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boolger · 6 months ago

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A lapdog at a farm - chapter 2

<-former chapter ~ AO3 link ~ next chapter-> I will block any ageless blogs. Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 6181.

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

Author's note: reminder that reader is kinda a bitch at some points, thinking mean, unjustified things about our 141 once in a while. Unreliable narrators, my sinner. Apologies for any grammatical errors , the bad russian and such. So uh, this got waaay longer than intended so here you go. It will be a couple of days before the next chapter, so enjoy this snack for u all, my sinners.

chapter 2: Delivery from the Hybrid's Den!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I have a friend coming over for a while,” John softly said next morning, hand resting on your head, fingers stroking your long ears now and again,, “to help us with getting the boys settled.”

You were on the floor, half way beneath the kitchen table, snuggled up against Price’s leg, feeling much more needy, knowing the ‘boys’ as your owner called them, would be delivered later today or tomorrow. They needed to be chipped and Price had asked for a full health check from his vet, as well as vaccinations and dental care. John was a caring owner; the mere fact that he did this from the get go was proof of that. He had done the same when getting you, made sure that any recent wounds or scarring were taken care of - getting your teeth fixed and your nails checked.

You didn’t have much of your fangs left when he got you; your earlier owners had taken those, the memories still haunting you once in a while. They had done it without anesthesia, not even by professionals. Same with your claws, that wasn’t beneath your nails anymore, thanks to former owners as well. Price had gotten the wounds cleaned and fixed up; they had almost grown closed by now. For most of the time that you lived with John, he had made sure your nails were always done nicely, however you wanted them.

John was a good master. You loved him, more than you knew you should, desperate for his attention, acknowledgment and praise. You didn’t want to share him, not with these hounds he had decided to get…

… not with this apparent friend.

You didn’t answer with anything but a displeased sound, tightening your grip on Price’s pants; when he offered you another piece of sausage you were quick to eat it, licking at his fingers while he chuckled. For a moment your tail wagged, eating the food and pressing against his hand.

He couldn’t be serious - abruptly changing so many things? and you were just supposed to accept it? Finally, you replied.

“Do I know your friend?” You didn’t bother to seem excited in any way, your skepticism seeping into your voice like poison. Price took another sip of his tea, not commenting on it.

“You’ve met him before but it’s been years. First year I had you, I reckon. Remember Nikolai?”

Nikolai. Nikolai. Different faces flashed for your eyes, trying to pinpoint who you had met that bore that name.

“No,” you finally admitted.

“Can’t blame you, lass. You were a little mess when you met him.”

You let out a huff at his words, embarrassment making your toes curl. It was true, your mind was muddled when it came to the first half year or so together with Price. You had been wary of every single person, desperately acting out and having to wear a muzzle, slowly getting used to the gentleness and rules of John. How he was fair and didn’t change his rules, didn’t punish you without reason.

You heard the front door open, ears peeking up a little, a small bark leaving you on instinct.

“‘Morning,” Laswell called out, making you settle again with a huff. While Laswell was strict and sometimes a meanie, she wasn’t a threat. Only to you and John’s private time.

“Good morning,” John called out, “I’ve made coffee.”

“Ugh if I wasn’t a lesbian I would marry you,” Kate groaned happily, by now so comfortable with John that she simply moved to take a cup in the cupboard, helping herself to the coffee and some food. They had known each other when younger, that was all you knew. Their stories always changed when you asked.

“Morning puppy,” she greeted, leaning over to give you a small pat that you leaned into, tail wagging once more, “are you going to misbehave again today?”

“Hopefully not,” John hummed, picking up his tea cup once more, “Nikolai is arriving in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, your old crush,” Laswell mused happily as she sat down across the table, once again making you wonder how long they had known each other, “going to pull yourself together this time?”

Wait. Crush… crush? Your head whipped up to look at your owner and oh fucking hell, John fucking Price was blushing. You huffed, clearly not pleased at all with this new knowledge.

Wonderful, wasn’t that just fucking wonderful? Now he was going to abandon you fully, to run around being a lovesick puppy and playing with the new hybrids.

“Don’t tease me,” John answered, clearly embarrassed, a rare sight indeed, “that’s none of your business.”

Kate just laughed. You let out a grumble, trying to snuggle even closer to Price, practically clinging to his leg by now. Price returned his hand to your head, petting you once more, looking down at you. You returned his gaze, doing your best puppy eyes, letting out a little whine. He smiled at you, his other hand scratching you beneath your chin.

“It’s been years,” he mused and you were pretty sure that he wasn’t even talking to you, “he had to return to Russia. His mother passed away.”

Russia? A memory appeared in your mind. A small party. Champagne, treats. Praise from Price’s friends and colleagues, attention and love that you had basked in. Other hybrids that sent you longing and lustful looks. A tall, broad man with a loud laugh and a strong accent. Wearing a gold chain. Long hair, rough hands when he scratched you. He would almost make your owner shy with his teasing but he would shower you in love.

“Did I meet him at a party once?” You asked, “big guy, strong accent ? Wearing a gold chain?”

John laughed, “yes, that would indeed be Nikolai.”

Huh. It was not much you could remember about him. You remembered liking him, but despite that, you weren’t really interested in him getting here.

“He is going to help with Soap, Ghost and Gaz,” John then said, almost as if to convince himself that was why he was here. You rolled your eyes at their names. Not that you had any say, you were usually just called different pet names, but you no longer bore the name your mother had once given you. It wasn’t unusual for pets to get their names changed with every new owner. Your legal hybrid name, with John, was Daisy, even though the man rarely ever called you that. He called you so many other names, Princess, Darling, Sweetheart, Birdie and so on. But apparently he had decided not to change these working dogs’ names.

“Sure,” Kate answered with amusement in her voice, taking another sip of the coffee before adding, “whatever you say.”

Price didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed grumble.

“Those are stupid names,” you muttered. A sharp tug on your ear made you yelp, one of your hands grabbing onto his wrist to get him to let go of your furry ear.

“Be nice, Princess. You’re going to behave, am I understood?” You didn’t meet his eyes, a little whine merely escaped from you.

“She just needs to be shown her place,” Laswell carefully said, John not letting go of your ear, much to your dismay, but he didn’t tug on it - just kept it there as a warning, “maybe they’re better at that.”

“Hopefully they’ll be better at it than me,” he muttered and you whined - the grip didn’t loosen and he didn’t look down at you.

“Nikolai is going to help with that too?”

“He had ideas, at least.”

Fucking wonderful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nikolai was the first of the four men that you already hated, to arrive.

You stayed inside the house, watching John appear from one of the stables, almost lighting up at the sight of the man who exited the car.

He still looked like the old memory you had of him; big, long black hair and a grin on his face. He was taller than John but not by much, Almost seeming completely opposite to your owner. While John wore working clothes, a grey T-shirt beneath his blue flannel, dirt on his pants, Nikolai was wearing a pair of blue jeans, white T-shirt and leather jacket.

Even inside the house, you could hear the booming man that was Nikolai - he greeted your owner with a loud “John!”, before hugging him, even spinning him around. You couldn’t help but stare; John was far from small but the other man had swung him around like he had been a teenage girl.

John was blushing like one too. The sight made you curious - just like you wondered how he and Kate met, you wondered how this Nikolai met your owner.

You couldn’t help but wag your tail at how happy they looked. Despite how you hated the idea of the man staying here, even just for a little while, you liked seeing John happy like this.

Then two pairs of eyes suddenly looked directly into the window, both staring at you. It made your ears tip back a little. Your tail kept wagging, eating up the attention.

When they moved, you moved too - rushing towards the entrance, stopping in the doorframe to the living room.

“My my, if it isn’t the famous puppy,” Nikolai mused, his Russian accent strong, eyes almost twinkling as he looked you up and down, “up to trouble, da?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, though you felt your tail betray you by wagging a little, “I’m never up to trouble.”

Both of the men laughed, making you growl a little.

“Unruly - just like last time I met you!” Nikolai mused, looking over at John by his side, “you gave up on training?”

John shook his head, “don’t even get me started, mate.”

“You told enough over phone,” Nikolai answered, waving his hand at John while pushing his shoes off with his feet.

Ah. So he had talked about you with Nikolai already? The fact made you scrunch your nose a little. Maybe Nikolai was just as stupid as John when it came to realizing why you were upset.

Nikolai stepped into your personal sphere with no warning, almost backing you up against the door frame, making you panic and growl a little. Tail no longer wagging - you could see John tense up in the corner of your eye, but you were too distracted by the stranger.

“Nik—“

A part of you expected him to hit you - you had met plenty of strangers with your former owners, who didn’t even let you sniff their hand or anything. Some hurting you and —

He offered his hand. It didn’t hit you, but raised to your nose instead. You squinted at him, before taking a couple of sniffs, still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Don’t like you,” you growled in warning, showing your teeth a little, not even attempting to be polite.

“You don’t like farm life yet, puppy?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, voice demeaning, stupid smile still on his face. You wanted to slap it off his face. “Stupid little puppy.”

Instead you chomped down on his hand, Price instantly scolding out your name, moving to drag you away. But Nikolai didn’t even flinch - didn't move besides laughing again.

It made both you and John confused.

“If you want to hurt me, you would have to bite harder, Princess,” Nikolai crooned, “now let go.”

You wanted to piss in his shoes and rip his socks to pieces. Maybe scratch up that leather jacket of his. Yet you found yourself letting go of him, your teeth barely even having made a dent in his skin.

“Get your ass into your room,” John hissed, a redness in his skin that you weren’t sure came from embarrassment or anger from your action.

“No harm done, John,” Nikolai laughed; he scratched you behind your right ear, just a tad to the left and it was like your brain melted for a couple of seconds, your body reacted on its own, tail wagging and right leg moving as well, “she just attempt to be dangerous no?”

John let out a small sound that you weren’t sure what to make of before he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you away from Nikolai, “and that’s the kind of behaviour I don’t want.”

“He was being mean,” you whined in self defense, unable to not follow the hand dragging you into the living room, “he almost dared me to!”

Perhaps an overstatement, but you already knew what was going to happen the moment that Price pushed you over the armrest of the couch, “I bit him to defend myself!”

“You will not, and I repeat myself, not bite my guests,” he pulled up your skirt and down your panties with such a quick movement that you didn’t get to point out that you didn’t care, one hand grabbing your tail; his other hand collided with your ass cheeks, once, twice and then a third time, before he snapped out, “got it?”

A defiant bark left you, because while you knew it was bad behavior, you also wanted to prove that you weren’t afraid of this Nikolai. You twisted a little, knowing your ass and pussy was basically on display for both men.

The grip on your tail tightened making you cringe with pain, jaw tensing.

“Apologise.”

You shook your head in defiance, ears hitting your face. Price leant over you a little, hissing out, “I would advise you to apologize, princess. Now.”

A part of you knew he was upset because he liked Nikolai. If he actually had feelings for him, as Kate had pointed out and several things pointed towards, you knew he wouldn’t like being embarrassed too much. Your ass still stung a little.

You were the actual victim here, weren’t you? It wasn’t your fault he decided to change everything you loved and then accept that he had his lost love over, who immediately tried to push your buttons.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled after two seconds.

“Louder.” John demanded, straightening up, so that you were no longer hidden.

"I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment - then the sound of a lighter and as you dared to glance over at the bigger man, who was leaning against the door frame, you saw him staring right back at you, a lit cigarette now between his lips.

“Is okay, Lapochka.” He said, stupid smile still on his face.

With that John finally let go off your tail, pulling up your underwear and your skirt down, ignoring your whine. He didn’t even touch your pussy! Didn’t even give you some love!

You pouted as you looked over at them, sliding down from the armrest of the couch, hands going beneath your skirt to rest against your warm skin on your cheeks.

“Sorry Nik,” John once again apologized - as if it was him who John had just spanked! The audacity! You let out a little displeased bark.

“She usually doesn’t bite people,” he continued as he ushered Nikolai as if you weren’t right there, needing love and attention.

“Is okay,” Nikolai answered with a shrug, casting one last glance over at you, smirking for just a second, “some of it was my fault - wanted to see what she would do.”

Asshole.

“Room, princess - now.”

“But he literally ju—“

“I said now.”

“You’re being so fucking mea—“

“Crate then.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You might have slammed the door to your room, growling as you plopped down on your big fuzzy dog bed.

It was about 30 minutes later than you dared to wander from the room to the kitchen again, standing in the doorway, watching the two men talk. Eyes moved to watch you again, as you whined and got on your knees. crawling to the two men, shamefully settling between Price’s legs on your knees - tail carefully wagging, sending your owner a pitiful glance.

“‘m sorry,” you whimpered, knowing John was easy to sweeten up, “‘m sorry, sir.”

A hand moved down to scratch you, though it wasn’t John’s- you carefully licked his hand, a pleased rumble leaving the guest.

“Smart one,” he muttered, giving your cheek a little pinch, “knows how to be sweet, da?”

“Always,” John answered, looking down at you with his usual loving eyes, “soft lass is hard to stay mad at.”

“Perhaps you need some more company,” Nikolai pointed out, “I worked with military pets before, they’re much different than you, milaya.”

“We don’t need them,” you whined, having no idea what Nikolai had just called you, “John will forget about me, will be too busy, he –”

John’s foot ever so gently pushed against your stomach, “don’t start that again.”

“Just insecure,” Nikolai suggested, making you huff.

“Am not,” you argued, but you still nuzzled closer to John, starting to move your hands to his inner thighs, moving to look up the best you could, looking from under the edge of the table, sweetening your voice a little, “It’s just a mistake, that’s all.”

“Spoiled, that’s what you are, darling,” John pointed out, but he still reached out to gently pat your head, “however, the boys will be here in a couple of hours and there is nothing you can do about it.”

You whined pitifully at his words, upset that your clear dissatisfaction with them joining the farm wasn’t clear. It was like John didn’t want to realize at all that he didn’t need to stay out on this farm. He needed to go back to the city, to the fancy penthouse apartment, to the parties that lasted out to the late hours of the night, where you could gossip with all the other hybrids.

“Milaya,” Nikolai repeated again, rustling with something in his jacket that hung over the back of the chair he was currently sitting on, pulling a little package from it. You watched curiously, though trying to seem disinterested. That was until he opened it and the most wonderful, mouthwatering scent you had smelled in a while appeared and you instantly moved from between John’s legs to Nikolai’s, making your owner chuckle.

The piece of jerky looking meat that Nikolai held in between his thumb and pointer finger, looked simple but oh the smell of it made it known that it was good.

“You behave and let us look through papers now, da?”

“Yes,” you said, unable to look away or stop your tail from wagging, “I’ll behave.”

The moment Nikolai offered you the piece, you were on it, barely missing his fingers with your teeth as you stole it from his grip. Nikolai was chuckling, putting the bag back into his jacket, while you chewed, a pleased moan leaving you as you settled beneath the table.

Hopefully these mutts would prove themselves too difficult - so that John would send them away again. You would happily wave goodbye to them.

With the sweet aftertaste of the meat in your mouth and their soft voices discussing fences, you closed your eyes.

You weren’t going to help with the pack settling in - that was for sure.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You barely got used to your owner’s crush, before there were once again new things happening. Kate appeared, greeting Nikolai like an old friend as well. You hadn’t figured out much about the man, other than he had worked with a lot of hybrids throughout the years. And with helicopters. However that all fit together, you didn’t know… didn’t really care.

The big truck that arrived a couple of hours later, stood out against the farm houses; a colorful logo was painted on the otherwise steel gray vehicle.

THE HYBRID’S DEN! helping owners find their perfect hybrid pet since 1960!

You remembered seeing their logos everywhere when you were sold to the auction, years ago. The auction houses and facilities had often felt like an intermission from your former life to your new; never knowing what was going to happen, treated with the minimal care, but kept healthy enough for the auctions.

The staff wore the colorful logo on their black uniforms, exciting the truck a few moments later. You almost wanted to tell them to ‘get the fuck back into that truck and drive off’ again, but you figured it wouldn’t result in them actually doing so.

You kept your distance, standing on the steps of the front door - strategically keeping Nikolai between you and the closed metal crates that were inside the truck. There were nothing more than a few air holes in the boxes, from where some different sounds appeared. Barks and a growl or two, though they all sounded a little slurred. Nikolai moved, giving you a better look at them, as he joined John who was nodding along to some of the information, while looking through and signing some papers. Though you were mostly distracted by the crates, you could hear some of their conversation, catching words like sedated, muzzles, stressed. Your own trip hadn’t been nice either but a part of you wanted to point out to your owner that this only proved your point of this being a bad idea.

Some of the auction workers helped move the crates to one of the bigger empty sheds that Price had apparently been renovating without your knowledge. So apparently not so empty any longer. Not that it had been hard to do that, you ignored most of the different renovating and building jobs that both John and the helpers did.

Still… he could have told you. God, did your master tell you nothing anymore? It didn’t really help your mood, your growing annoyance clearly amusing for Nikolai if his smiles back at you were anything to go by.

Despite your repeated frustration with this entire situation and these new hybrids’ mere existence, you followed along inside the shed. It was nice… Isolated, with a tiny bathroom, an area padded with mattresses, which was clearly for them to sleep together, pillows, blankets… you wanted that too. Sure, you had loads, but this only made you want more, want more from Price, so that he could prove he still loved you.

There was a radiator, several windows, lamps and electricity outlets. You scrunch your nose with displeasure. They didn’t deserve that. At least they weren’t inside the main house.

There was a little notch in the other corner opposite the bed area, almost like a tiny expansion, another door next to it; it was almost like a small horse stall - a deep layer of hay covered the floor. You didn’t even step into the place, but you knew the hay would itch.

You wanted it. Not the itching of the hay, but the entire place, simply for the sake of having it, so that they couldn’t. Speaking of them, you watched from the main entrance as the metal boxes were opened.

The Belgian malinois and German Shepherd mix was the first one to stumble out of the box; he fell two steps later, directly into the hay, a deep sigh leaving him, eyes darting around. You could barely see him from the amount of people inside the stall.

“It’s alright, Gaz,” Price comforted, while you stayed in the door, keeping his distance to the hybrid, “You’re okay, boy.”

Gaz didn’t answer, just panted a little, ears tipped backwards - his eyes looked a little blown from what you could see.

“When will the sedatives wear off?” Laswell asked one of the workers, but you didn’t look at them, eyes instead at the other hybrid.

When you had arrived, you had been scared and angry, drugged as well. But you had been alone. While you grew up with your parents, in a nice enough place, you hadn’t seen them for years - and while you had befriended a lot of other hybrids throughout the years, you had never been a part of a “pack”. You were alone — but this Gaz wasn’t and a part of you envied him, even for that.

“In an hour or two,” the worker replied, pulling you from your deeper thoughts, “they weren’t too happy to settle down before we left. It was necessary.”

A small bark left the man in the hay. It was answered by the two other hybrids, who still hadn’t come out of their respective boxes. Nikolai gently tapped on the top of one of the boxes with a knuckle.

“Come join your friend,” the Russian suggested, voice not as loud as earlier.

A moment later the border collie mix, Soap, crawled out of his box, eyes instantly on Gaz, letting himself lay halfway on top of the other. A little growl leaving him, muffled from behind the mask. Not even a second later, Ghost got out of the last crate. The Great Pyrenees almost got on his legs, growling despite the muzzle and swaying from the drugs.

You watched the staff pull back the metal boxes, letting the hybrids get some space. Ghost didn’t stay on his legs for too long, eventually sitting down next to his pack mates, the lower half of his face hidden from view as he looked around the shed.

His gaze stopped at you; you were unable to sense the reaction from seeing you again, if there even was any.

“We’ll let you have some minutes, okay? Then we’ll take the muzzles off.” John gently offered, pulling the giant from the moment, so that he looked away, giving Price a small nod. Your owner was at the edge of the hay filled area but he didn’t step into it.

You stepped back, letting the staff members from the auction pull away the boxes, Laswell and another farm worker helping them. Nikolai looked from the pack, then over his shoulder at you, barely even trying to hide a smile.

Then he winked. You sent him an unimpressed look back, tipping your chin up a little, looking away from the three hybrids in the hay, pretending you weren’t curious about them.

Some more rustling in the hay and then a half croaked, “mah held hurts,” left Soap, voice a little slurred - you couldn’t help but look over at him. His accent was weird. His ears were tipped down, some hay already stuck in his hair. With the pathetic look on his face you didn’t understand how he was supposed to be a big bad soldier.

You weren’t being petty at all.

“It’s the sedatives,” John calmly answered the hybrid, who let out a big breath from behind the muzzle.

“If I take the muzzle off, will you behave?”

“We have water for you,” Nikolai added, keeping his distance - you kept him in between you and the dogs, not risking anything. You trusted the men to be able to defend themselves. But with no claws or fangs, you weren’t a fighter - more a runner. Even if you didn’t like running.

The two muzzled ones, Soap and Ghost, sent each other a look - but it was Gaz, half hidden beneath Soap, who let out a tired “please.”

Ghost gave a small nod then. John stepped into the hay, unhurried as to not spook them, and it was Ghost who tipped his head down first to let Price open the lock with a small key. The moment he was free, he smacked his cracked and dry looking lips.

Clearly, the man had never heard of chapstick.

Though, much more apparent, where the colony of scars on his lower half of the face. Trailing from around the lips, one over the nose as well - cheeks and chin. As he smacked his lips, you saw he had lost a fang in the bottom of his mouth. It wasn’t just sanded down like yours, the tooth was fully missing.

Price repeated the action with Soap, the hybrid instantly opening his mouth wide with a yawn, his jaw even making a popping wound.

Nikolai appeared with three bottles of water from a little cooler in the shed - you didn’t have your own cooler, which meant you would be demanding one… not that you needed it but still — giving the hybrids each one, that was always immediately opened. Gaz pushed Soap away and sat up too, while John backed away.

“My name is John Price -we met shortly at the auction. I’m the owner of the farm and you will all answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” For a moment you were impressed with the three hybrids’ synchronized answers. Only a short moment however. They were probably just beasts trained to answer like that. Yeah, yeah, you could do that too, if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“This is Nikolai, my friend, he will stay with me for a while, helping you all to settle in properly. You will follow his orders too - as well as a mean looking woman, Kate Laswell, who will appear at some point.” Humour tipped into the last part making Soap snort and Gaz give out a half-slurred giggle, while Ghost just let out a grunt.

“And this,” Price suddenly turned over to you, looking a little amused from the distance you kept between all of them, “is my pet, Daisy.”

“Well hellooo, bonnie lass,” Soap said, his tail immediately wagging, grinning at you, as he slurred, “aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes.”

Nikolai and John dared to laugh at his words, his rather pathetic attempt at being charming, while you growled, watching Soap get an elbow in the side from Gaz, while Simon just stared, almost differently than the scot, like a hungry beast. If you were fully inside the shed, you might be able to smell if they were turned on. Disgusting.

“Come’ere, sweetheart,” John crooned, clearly pleased with the reactions from the men, while you scrunch your nose, tipping your chin up a little - giving it a shake to reject the command.

“Do not be like that, milaya,” Nikolai suggested, “thought you were going to behave, no?”

You just growled a little again, unable to help your tail go between your legs a little; you didn’t really want to be spanked again, but you didn’t really want to become acquainted with these hybrids either.

“My princess isn’t too pleased with you lot being here,” John calmly explained without taking his eyes off you - they were still all staring at you - as John raised a hand, making a ‘come-hither’ motion that had you swallowing some spit, “but she isn’t going to chase away any wolves, are ye, pet?”

You huffed, crossing your arms before stepping inside the shed. The scent in there was nice and clean, even with the vague scent of the newcomers, and you walked to John, stopping halfway hidden by him.

However, as John’s arm snaked around your soft waist in a strong grip, you whimpered as you were pulled forward a little, unable to hide behind him. Both Gaz and Soap were wagging their tails at you, while you tried ignoring the scent of the room the best you can.

“I’m expecting you all to get along - and not hurt each other too badly, understood?”

While the others answered in agreement you just hid your face in his shoulder, twisting a little in his grip.

“No playin’ too rough,” Nikolai added, “Puppy isn’t used to other hybrids.”

“I am!” you snapped, “Just not…”

The shed was quiet for a moment as you mulled over your next words. What to call them. Military dogs. Strays. Mutts, un –

“Not what?” Nikolai almost seemed entertained by your declaration and you looked away, before finally mumbling.

“... working dogs.”

Simon huffed. You shot him a sharp look that he didn’t really seem to be affected by, in any way.

“I’m sure you all will get along,” John just mused, before looking down at his watch, “A certain princess has become too bored now we’re no longer in the city -” he ignored your mutter of ‘have not’, “- and I can’t entertain her all the time. Mentally or sexually.”

You whined with embarrassment, a little angry growl seeping into it, but Price didn’t really react, barely moved as you twisted in his grip, ignoring the grin of the several males in the house.

“ - Now, I will leave you three to get acclimated a little. But, there are a couple of rules that I expect you all to follow, if not there will be punishments.”

Synchronized nods. You still twisted, digging your fingers into his arm to no avail - then a hand snagged onto your collar from behind, choking you shortly as you were pulled back, Nikolai pressing against your back. Now free, Price pointed to a little map over the area, that you hadn’t noticed on the wall.

“Your jobs will essentially be to help keep the place safe. We have had problems with wolves and foxes, and so has the neighbors, since there lives a bunch in the area. You three will help keeping them away and Soap will help around my sheeps and goats in particular, given you’re a herding dog–”

Soap nodded, tail wagging, all three dogs staring at the map intensely.

“- I will find other things for the two of you to help with as well, but your main focus will be on keeping the animals - and the rest of us - safe. One of the neighbors got some horses stolen not too long ago. I would like to avoid that as well.”

You didn’t even know that. What you did know, however, was the heat of Nikolai’s body behind you, keeping you close and tethered so that you couldn’t run off.

“Most of the wildlife will go away if intimidated, but at times you might need to attack them. I am not going to give you any firearms yet though,” John looked over at them, his voice firmer than you usually heard it, “That will come along the way, if needed. We can discuss other weapons later on.”

The mere idea of John giving them any kinds of weapon made you want to throw up - or throw a fit. Had he gone fuckin’ mad?? giving them guns? They were going to shoot everyone, going to kill John and you. You really didn’t want to die.

“My farm includes these - and these fields. You will not and I repeat not, leave my land without a valid reason. There will be punishments if you do - you will all be given collars like another certain puppy–” all eyes watched you for a moment and though, you wanted to hide your face in your hands, you didn’t, merely crossed your arms, ignoring the low laughter from Nikolai behind you, “that are fitted with trackers, so I will know if you do.”

Great. So hoping for them to run off wasn’t a possibility for now.

“Biting or attacking my staff in any way will result in severe punishments. You will lose privileges if you don’t do as told, without a valid reason. Is that understood?”

“Yessir.”

“Good boys. Now, these upcoming days you will most likely be following me or Laswell around, while we get you in on all these. All dinners will be eaten in the main house and you will be given keys once I get them made one of these upcoming days. I will give you a couple of hours now –” Price looked down at his wrist watch, “Then call you in, an hour or two before dinner, so that you all can shower. Any injuries, allergies or anything that the Hybrids’ Den didn’t write down, that I need to know?”

They all shook their heads, behaving like synchronized swimmers in your opinion.

“Good. You’re all free to relax here or explore the farm if you wish so, when the drugs wear off.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As you entered the farm house, you shrugged off your jacket and abandoned your shoes in the entrance, not caring to clean up after you, ignoring John’s irked huff.

“Insane!” you declared, walking further into the house, “You’ve gone insane! You’re all going to forget about me and those horny knotted mutts will be all up in my business!”

You flopped down on the couch, face first, continuing your ranting into the fabric.

“I might as well barricade myself inside my room - Because I dont have a tiny house!! but guns! SURE ! give them guns!” Your voice was muffled, but you were, perhaps a tad dramatically, loud in your ranting. You could just make out whispering between the two men but you didn’t care… not until you were forced to, quite literally.

“Little puppy,” Nikolai’s accent was heavy - his body even heavier as he settled on the back of your thighs, a fist coming to rest next to your head, that kept his full body weight from you, “Throwing a fit again, da?”

You could feel the slight bulge against your fat ass, making you swallow - and tail wag, hitting Nikolai against the thighs, making the man chuckle. John as well, who settled down with a cigar in one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. You didn’t even need to look to know that he watched as Nikolai tugged at your skirt.

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1-ker0sene-1 · 1 year ago

Note

Your blog is like a buffet, thank you 🥺 I would like to maybe put in a wee little request of poly 141 with a reader that has arthritis with pain flare ups maybe, I'm kinda going through it rn with a bad flare

{Thank you for your lovely words and great request! I'm sorry about your flare, I hope it goes down soon!♥️ Take care of yourself pookie♥️ paraffin wax has helped some friends of mine :)}

John notices your flare first. The way you try to breathe through your pain and continue your tasks, eyes close and shudder for a second. His eyes soften and a frown etches on his face. Oh sweet thing, you've done enough. He just wants you to rest. He'll move closer to your side, a hand sliding warmly up your back before holding the nape of your neck. Authoritative, yet in a gentle manner.

"Darlin'?.. you doin' alright?"

He asks, he knows you're not. But whether you tell him you are or not gives him an inside to exactly how much pain you're in.

However no matter how you answer, he's sending you to go rest. Kissing your temple.

"Hm? How about you watch a movie with our boys? I'll take care of dinner.."

His arms wind around your waist, pulling your back into his chest. Kissing on your shoulder. He didn't want you to feel bad for needing a break. Besides the boys waiting on the couch would be more than willing to look after you.

"John you really don't have to worry about it-"

You can hear the creak in his knees as he bends to lift you up. An arm under your knees, and another behind your back. Kissing your cheek, his beard tickling your soft skin.

"We're home now. We can take care of you."

He mumbles. Glancing over as Kyle walks into the kitchen. Tilting his head at the scene.

"Something happen?"

He asks in a bit of alarm, raising his brows. John shakes his head coming over to stand in front of the younger man, holding you up between them. Mindlessly you reach up, skimming your fingers over Kyle's jaw. Who takes your hand gently and kisses your fingertips.

"I'm alright really-"

John sighs at your dismissal. Leaning to kiss Kyle's head just above the brow, explaining to him.

"Flare up.. darlin' will be up in no time. Just needs some rest and care is all."

Kyle hums in acknowledgement, taking you into his own arms. You groan at their dramatics, dolling you around like you can't move at all. But smile as Kyle peppers your cheek in kisses.

"Let's get you to the couch lovie.. I'm sure Johnny will be all too eager to give ya a massage while I get you an ice pack yeah?"

You sigh softly, leaning into his chest as he carries you into the living room. Despite your groaning earlier, it was nice to simply rest. Get the weight off your aching and stiff joints.

"Thank you sweetheart.."

You mumble into him, a smile spreading on his lips.

"Just loving you sweets, nothing any of us wouldn't wanna do."

Coming into the living room around to the couch, Simon sits up stiffly seeing you carried like that. Nearly throwing Johnny off on accident, earning a yelp from the scottsman. Seeing that look of pain threw the blonde man off.

"She alright?"

The question Simon asks makes Johnny blink and sit up as well. Kyle waves them off, slotting you carefully between the two men.

"Flare up."

Is the only words he needs to say. Before both Johnny and Simon envelop you in their arms.

"They're being dramatic- I'm not dying y'know-"

You giggle. Simon chuckles, an arm around Johnny's hips as you lay between them on his chest. Johnny laying almost on you, quite the effective soldier sandwich. Johnny kisses your collarbone. Leaning into the dramatics to cheer you up.

"Our wee lass. How are we ever gettin' by without you?"

He practically purrs. His hands warmly brush over you, serious for a couple seconds.

"Where does it hurt bonnie..?"

As you tell him, he caresses, massages, and feels over each area that you mention to him. Watching you with loving bright eyes. Occasionally leaning down to notch your lips together, swallowing up your groans of comfort. Simon licks his lips watching the both of you, gripping Johnny's mowhawk to pull him back a bit. Kissing him first, sloppy and rough.

You watch the two of them. Pressing a kiss to Johnny's throat from below him, your fingertips skim over Simons arm. When Si disconnects the kiss he leans down to kiss you next, gentle and soft. Moving slow and sweet with you. Now Johnny is watching with a lovestruck grin. Hands still kneading and massaging your aching joints.

Doesn't take long before Kyle walks back in with a couple of ice packs, kissing Simons cheek- which has the blonde pulling back. Just so Kyle can get the next kiss, cheekily pressing his tongue in to run over your mouth. You laugh and pull back when he's had his fun.

"Got your ice baby."

He hums, Simon takes the packs, resting them where Johnny is done massaging.

"Twenty minutes on and off!"

You can all hear John say sternly from the kitchen. Kyle smirks and nudges your shoulder.

"I'll go help the old man with dinner."

He says. You reach out before he can leave, bringing him into some drowning kisses from all three of you on the couch. Kyle finally slips away after a couple minutes of chasing eachothers mouths. Wiping his lips with a dazed smile as he heads back to the kitchen.

Johnny's cheek is on your chest now, cradling the back of his head close to you. Simon is kneading at your hips. Whispering into your hair.

".. We'll get you in a hot bath.. yeah doll? Warm you up.."

His Manchester accent purring in your ear.

"You won't have to move an inch. You take care of everything while we're deployed. Gotta do the same for our girl.."

#cod x reader #disabled reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #poly 141 x reader #taskforce 141 x reader #141 x reader #kero answers

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lay-z · 5 months ago

Text

stalker!simon who finds and uses your Tumblr blog to get to know you on a level no one else has ever gotten to know you –

18+ ONLY | MDNI

stalker!simon who has finally found a target of his desire and it happens to be you,

but you're sort of a little weirdo and as antisocial as him, so there's nothing much of intel he can work with, except a name and your pretty face.

oh, and he does happen to know one of your friends, because she kept flirting with his sergeants that one night at the pub; the night he first laid eyes on you.

he's a task force-141 lieutenant, though, and if he can't do something or doesn't know the answer to a problem, he definitely knows people he trusts, who will have a solution for him – one way or another.

so, he gathers all the intel he can and soon enough, the tidbits of information come together in a pretty mosaic of what turns out to be the perfect woman for him; you're just not aware of it yet.

the posts he finds on your blog are downright scandalous, filthy and yes, even funny, and – is that a bloody nude?!

yes, it is, because on your personal blog, you feel utterly free and safe behind the wall of anonymity and the whole aesthetic you've built around it.

no one who knows you personally, knows about your little Tumblr blog and in your posts, you do admit that you're desperate to keep it that way.

this is where you can be the most unapologetic version of yourself, after all.

Simon knows, though. he knows it's yours, because, even if you try to hide your identity in the selfies you posts, he recognizes you – easy.

the more time he spends on your blog, the more obsessed he becomes, and when he stumbles upon a more recent post of yours – about your mask kink and that masked man you saw at the pub the other night – Simon. is. reeling.

he knows your secrets, he knows your kinks, your turn-ons and your turn-offs, your ideal first date, your fears and worries and trauma. he knows what kind of love you crave but never seem to find; knows that you're as touch-starved as he is, but too afraid to let any man near you – physically and emotionally.

it's oh so perfect for him, because he can prepare himself before making his move, but he'll also have a serious talk with you about putting all your info on the internet like that for everyone to read; he can't have anyone else have a wank (or many) to your pictures like he has. no, no. absolutely not.

anyways –

and now you've mentioned him? basically given him a shoutout?

in your last post, you mention how you keep dreaming about this masked and very massive stranger; how you fantasize about him at night when you fuck your sopping cunny with the largest dildo you own, imagining it's him instead.

it's the last push he needs, really.

and one evening, while you're lazily toying with your puffy little clit again, scrolling Tumblr and reading the most shameless smut by your favorite writers, you suddenly get an anonymous ask –

If you beg me nicely, I might let you touch the mask when I fuck that sweet little cunt of yours, luv.

– 💀

Shall I turn this into a proper oneshot? :)

#stalker!simon #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #reader insert #stalker!ghost #fem reader #call of duty #cod:mw #task force 141 #ghost drabble

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hyewka · 1 year ago

Note

idk if this is allowed but,

threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu

⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐

⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au

⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.”

Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”

“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”

You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.

Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.

This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.

You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.

“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”

Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.

You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.

“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”

You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.

Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.

Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”

Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”

You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.

“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.

“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”

Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”

“Two people, still very little.” he counters.

Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.

“Jihyo, Miyeon—”

“I fucked Miyeon.”

“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”

He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.

“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.

“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.

“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.

You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.

“Just beer.” You reply.

He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.

You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”

He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.

“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.

“Aye aye captain.”

He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”

You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”

Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.

You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”

“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.

Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.

…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.

The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.

You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.

“I’m fucking her ass here.”

Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.

Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.

You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”

You shake your head, dismissing him.

Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.

“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.

“But not a liar.”

“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”

“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.

Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”

God, this again!

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.

“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”

“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”

“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”

Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”

“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.

“Had someone nut in your ass?”

You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”

You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.

“Have you done it without a condom?”

You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.

“Is this an interrogation?”

Yeonjun shrugs.

“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.

Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.

Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”

You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.

“Gotten fingered?”

“Well no shit.”

Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”

“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.

Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”

“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”

“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”

Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”

“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”

“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”

Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.

You shudder remembering the scene.

“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”

You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”

“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.

You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”

Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.

“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.

You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.

“But I want to.”

…What.

That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.

Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-

“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.

He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”

You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.

He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”

Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.

The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”

You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.

But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”

You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”

Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”

He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”

Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.

But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”

At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.

Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.

And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.

That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.

Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.

Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”

And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”

Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”

The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.

Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”

You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”

This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.

Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”

“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”

You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?

Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”

“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.

Fuck it.

You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.

Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”

You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.

The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”

Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.

“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.

You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”

You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.

"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.

"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.

Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"

You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.

Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.

You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.

“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.

Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”

“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.

His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.

Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.

You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”

You nod, humming.

“Words princess.”

“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”

He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.

You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.

And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.

“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”

You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.

“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.

You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.

Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.

“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”

Can you even take that in your mouth?

He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.

“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.

You think you might just faint.

“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.

But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.

You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.

“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”

Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”

You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.

It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.

He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.

Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.

“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”

You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.

To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt x reader #beomgyu hard thoughts #yeonjun hard thoughts #✶ ━━ rana ; answered

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cherie-doll · 3 months ago

Note

Love your blog! 🩷 Perhaps some x celeb reader headcanons?

ty anon for finding my blog <3 glad you enjoy it

★ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

COD Men x Celebrity!Reader

۶ৎ Price...

these newer celebrities have no true talent, they're all nepo babies and can't act nor sing not even if their life depended on it, everything is handed to them on a silver platter

but you... you're different, working from the bottom of the latter you've made your way up to where the spotlights are, right in the middle... where you belong

he knows true talent when he sees it, you've proved everyone else wrong and he's one of your biggest investors

you may not know where exactly the money flows in from, but you're building a path for yourself, and he hopes one day he can be as selfish as to imagine you recognize his contributions to your new status

that is until you find yourself noticing him in the background of every scene you are in, from lavish private parties to more business like meetings with your managers

little did you know your curiosity would make you to want to know more about him and enable becoming close with him, in this world of blinding lights that spins you dizzy you are able to find a safe, stable point in him

you like those moments filled with tranquil walks, or an intellectual conversation while sipping coffee and finding out you have more in common despite your circumstances being so different

maybe you like this unusual pairing and can't wait to see what it leads to

۶ৎ Simon...

probably the guy who you meet at a meet and greet with your fans and when it's his turn instead of being happy to see you he tells you your acting/music sucks, why is he even here then?

turns out one of his friends who is a huge fan had won an extra ticket and dragged him here despite his protests of staying home

for some reason this irks you and you can't get it out of your head so you got out of your way to looks for them around the city for the next couple of days since you got a concert coming up anyways so most fans are staying in the city until then

you spot them and imagine the scene of you running out of the still moving car, your personal driver is panicking and yelling at you to get back inside and your bodyguard isn't even there because you had said you didn't need them as you weren't planning on getting out

you run up to him and demand a proper explanation from, why doesn't he like you? everyone does, you're trending right now!

him seeing you raging in front of him amuses him and seeing that smug smile on his face just makes you want to slap him, he only counters back with saying that with how many fans you have and how fast you got popular you should be releasing better stuff

so you propose taking him along with you, literally everywhere, the recording studio, having him watch with the rest of the crew so he can witness how hard you really work for your fans to be satisfied, he surely can't say that you release mid stuff when you care this much

۶ৎ Johnny...

is perhaps your biggest fan, he enjoys kicking back and watching your shows, movies and interviews you appear in, he especially loves buying magazines you're on and displaying them all over his place

it almost looks like a shrine dedicated to you, it's a little concerning to be honest, he also happens to know almost everything about you because he remembers all the answers you give at interviews

he leaps at any chance of meeting you, whether that be concert tickets, tickets to one of your events, or just being out and around a location he figures you might be at from looking at the background of your videos

he's not a stalker... he's just a little obsessed and maybe it is a problem to make your life revolve around a person that you'll never form a personal relationship with, but somehow he's okay with that

he doesn't even try to contact you or send you letters, unless you're accepting fan mail then he likes to spend the money he has saved up to send you nice gifts he's either handmade or expensive ones that stand out from all the rest of things you receive by other fans

he gets a sense of pride when you open them on camera and see when you're actually impressed by gifts, and it's always the stuff he sends in

۶ৎ Kyle...

is perhaps the only guy you'd ever think of dating

while everyone else either treats you like you're an idol that needs to be pleased at all times or like some newbie who doesn't know what they're doing, he sees you for who you are and doesn't treat you according to your accomplishments or status

he focuses more on your persona and even if his honesty can sting it helps keep you grounded, you know there isn't anyone else you'd rather go to for comfort or advice

even if you call him late at night asking for him to come pick you up because you're a sobbing mess and sick of it all he'll come rushing to help you stand back up on your feet

and when the hate gets to you and the fame overwhelms you, you can still count on him to be there for you and help you see that eventually you'll be able to walk away from it with his help if you ever come to need it, just say the word and he'll do it

it often makes you wonder if he sees you as someone he's into and that's why he does all this or if you've tugged at his heartstrings and are a creature to be pitied and taken under his wing, either way you enjoy it

asking "what are we" after he's picked you up from some private party where you had too many drinks and he goes "i don't know, you tell me" but he almost whispers it with that leaning in his heart towards what he wants the answer to be

he just wants you to be the one to realize it and take the initiative for it, after all, he's done so much more for you and never asking for anything back than all those who have said to be close to you

۶ৎ Roach...

he has known you for a very long time; you were childhood friends but you grew apart through the years when you moved away

but after all these years he finally found you...

on tv, he actually almost fell out of his seat when he was watching the new series everyone had been talking about

he wonders if you even remember him, he's heard you'll be traveling close to where he lives for filming so he secretly hopes to run into you, perhaps there is something that you can recognize in him even after all these year

you're the one who recognizes him in fact, he hasn't even spotted you from across the street, but you follow after him, he still carries old canvas bag even you had made for him

you focus on getting back your old friendship, but it's so hard when you're busy trying to find the balance with your newfound fame

he's stuck on your waiting list while you first run around with your new celebrity friends and because he's so understanding he'll patiently wait like a dog for their owner

still, the few bits and pieces he gets from you he treasures dearly, knowing they're worth so much more than anything else

he can feel this relationship slowly but surely turn into something more one day, and until then he'll continue supporting you just like day one

۶ৎ Alejandro...

being an international actor that you met at an award show

and you got along exceptionally well, what started out as accidentally being assigned to sit in the wrong section lead to something more

the show was boring and long to sit through, yet he made you laugh the entire time, now...

how do you hide a relationship from the public eye if you're both famous?

but you find him charming and all too caring

no matter how packed his schedule is he's finding ways to see you, doesn't matter if he has to wait outside with a bouquet of flowers and a beautiful piece of jewelry

now and then he wishes you two could be more open about your relationship without fearing the backlash

just how stars can go up they can also come falling back down, when your careers start getting unstable it can be hard to remember what your priorities are and if they ever shifted

except he misses you and it's not enough seeing you on tv starring in another commercial that you're doing just to get by, he wants to hear your voice, to see your familiar form in person and be able to embrace you

۶ৎ Rudy...

probably that guy you bumped into when you're running away from the obsessive fans that spotted you out

he doesn't even know who you are and doesn't understand what's going on but he helps you out thinking someone is trying to hurt you, he offers you a ride and you hesitate but weighing your options decide to take the offer

he acts completely normal, as if he doesn't know who you are, when you ask him this he says "of course i don't know you, we're complete strangers", and that kind of humbles you but stuns you, you appreciate his kindness for helping you out back there despite him not knowing the entire situation, you offer to repay him somehow but he declines

a few days later he's scrolling on his phone an article of you appears on his recommended with a your picture on the cover, he didn't even know you were famous but now he regrets not asking for an autograph

you weren't able to thank him properly but you wish you could find him "by accident" again

۶ৎ Phillip...

you're both famous but in very different entertainment sectors, you're the stylish, always dressed up singer who never appears in any photo looking unfashionable, seriously any pic of you looks like you came out of a vogue magazine

so imagine the public's surprise and outcry when they found out you were dating the well known rodeo rider from texas??? (everyone when lana del ray married)

there is no relation at in all your professions yet you with the recent announcement of your relationship you two have been seen enjoying going out together, he travels to see you perform and you'll tag along with him when he's out in the ring kicking up all that dust and dirt

despite the initial reaction from fans they now love seeing your interactions as a couple and think your relationship is goals, he's actually so sweet and caring, not arrogant at all like they thought he'd be

you've almost seemed to have been inspired and are now writing songs that are hitting them charts and getting you streams on your new albums, it's a lot of support you're receiving on both sides and now everyone is asking when the wedding is

۶ৎ Makarov...

you're both actors on a set and don't exactly get along but have to forget that when the cameras turn on because you're playing the main leads in a romance film and have to create that chemistry for the connection to feel real

fans can't deny how palpable the scenes are and are making edits not only of your characters but as actors when you're at award shows or the movie premiere, they ship you both when in reality you can't stand being in the vicinity of one another

there's outlandish theories of you two possibly being in a romantic relationship, and what's worse is that the suspicions seem to line up, you're spotted attending the same party even after promotions for the film have wrapped up, going to the same events even if one you didn't have a role in it, wearing similar outfits or jewelry that makes it look like a matching couple thing

all things that to the public eye are dead giveaways for a secret relationship when really you're both rolling your eyes when you read the articles, still you can't help but try to think of what it'd be like to be in a romantic relationship with the other when you see them

which inevitable draws one to the other :))

۶ৎ Keegan...

you're his secret celebrity crush, he hasn't had many relationships and they almost never last long enough for him to get attached so having a celebrity crush you can't commit to sounds great

he knows the other guys would think it weird and out of characters for him, but he actively enjoys watching shows and movies you star in

you never star in a shitty or low-budget show and he respects that, which is why he's watched every one of them and awaits a new one

he doesn't have things like posters or merch of you because where would he even hang it up on?

he knows he might never have a chance to meet you in real life, you live on different sides of the world, you're the icons, starlets and hot celebrities while he's... well, doing a dirty job out in pockets of earth no one even knows about

until fate seems to prove him wrong? why did he just run into you here? turns out you used to live here, for a short amount of time because otherwise he would've seen you

such a small town only has so many people and for the amount of cute celebrities you've met he seems to catch your attention in that way

seriously, his looks alone could land him a modeling gig, but it's not for just how he looks that made you into him, maybe it was his low voice and striking eyes that made his demeanor all the more appealing

how have the tables turned...

۶ৎ König...

you used to be pretty big in his country until you mysteriously withdrew from the public eye, he was once a pretty big fan of you and was saddened to see you no longer were releasing music or films

it's been years yet one day when he's at the public library he thinks he caught a flash of you walk by him, he turns and follows, surely that can't be you, can it?

oh, but it is! what a surprise it is to see you at the self-help section... he also sees you glance at the biographies and memoirs where a book you published years ago when you were peak is still displayed

nervously he approaches you and asks for an autograph, you can't help but be caught off guard, you didn't expect to still be recognized, especially when you're wearing glasses, a cap and basically clothes that wouldn't give you away, still he was able to recognize you under all that

he hesitates to ask why you left the industry but you're so nice and sweet to him, not having interacted with fans for years made you appreciate this moment so you answer nicely, even when he asks if you're thinking about making a comeback

you shrug and only give him a smile, he's probably freaking out on the inside that he met a celebrity he thought he'd never have the chance of seeing ever again, you like his personality and ask for his number, you're curious about him

۶ৎ Horangi...

he's seen how toxic and deteriorating the celebrity culture is, as fun and fast-paced as your life can be he makes sure you have a moment to be grounded and slow down

often he'll book secluded places where nothing will disturb your peace as you rest for a few days, he talks to you and will listen to anything you have on your mind

he's the type of boyfriend to just kinda be in the behind of scenes of it all, he's got plenty of money himself and will let you know you can fall back on him and depend if you ever need to, you don't have to work excessively if it all becomes too much for you one day

when you come back late from a filming session he'll surprise you with jewelry and expensive things you might be wanting, he just loves showering you in gifts you can wear out in public to show off

the public knew you had a boyfriend but weren't too interested in unmasking his identity, until a picture taken by the paparazzi with him in it blew up and now everyone wants to know about your hot boyfriend

he didn't expect this and is stunned until you elbow him playfully joking about how he'll overshine you, he welcomes the polite public at first but draws a line not wanting to steal your spotlight

sometimes you ask him why he doesn't just go for the offers that are probably piling up in his email and on his social media he turned private now

he shrugs, "maybe one day, not right now"

۶ৎ Nikto...

your big, built bodyguard who doesn't even know you that well because you just recently blew up on the scene

all he focuses on is his task of protecting you everywhere you go, that's all, right? then why does he find himself caring for you a little more

sometimes when he's in the car accompanying you to your home, he'll be looking out the window and when the car arrives at the destination he looks over and you're asleep, instead of waking you up he watches you for a moment, your head resting back on the headrest and he can't bring himself to wake you up

so he carries you out and up to your apartment, all the way he's careful not to bump you into anything, he has the keys because you've given him a copy just in case and he enters and lays you in your bed, he only removes your shoes and covers you with a blanket

he thinks about leaving but then he sees the messy state your apartment is in, surely he can't leave it like this can he? now he feels compelled to clean it all up and by the time he's done it's daylight and when you groggily walk into the kitchen, attracted by the good smell of food cooking you see him already laying out a nice meal on the table

"for you" is all he says but you're ready to drop to your knees and propose

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danyasblogsblog · 2 months ago

Text

FIVE MONTHS SIMON RILEY

warnings : cheating, mentions of sex, lotsss of angst and yelling. implied reader is a female. toxic relationship

- simon riley is cheating on reader, over and over again, when they are just wishing for his love back.

ps. guyss if u like keegan p. russ smut read my last blog!! love u guys 💕

part 2 is not coming

being simon riley’s girlfriend in the beginning was a dream come true- it was all you ever dreamed of. a strong man who matched your personality and made you feel whole. first 4 months was perfect, going out together, meeting his friends and getting close with them, the most amazing dates and sleepovers at eachother’s apartments. it was a dream come true.

but once 5 months hit, something changed in him. he was out late after work. he wasnt home after deployments on the day he was supposed to come back. he went out late on the weekends you longed to be in his arms. he was cold and distant. why?

you knew he had been cheating. gaz told you- he was rubbing up against some other girl at a party and kissing her- practically shoving his tongue down her throat. and his idiotic ass posted it on his private story. it was like he wasnt even considerate about your feelings, not even trying to hide it.

everyone told you to leave him. even simon’s closest friends told you too- you were loyal, kind and so caring. he use to be the same, but now hes cold, carless and seemed pissed everytime he saw you.

7 times. he cheated 7 times. every time he did, you could feel more of your heart cracking like porcelain. tears spilled from your eyes everytime you got a message from gaz, or soap or random girls you barely knew. ‘simon is cheating again’. you got used to be message, but the ache in your heart burned more every time it happened.

simon didnt know why he did it- you were perfect for him. you made him feel right in everyway, your personality, your appearance and your love for him was everything he ever wanted. he just had to be a jerk. someone awful towards you, even though you treated him with love.

the 8th time was different. you had been having a hard week- work was tough, and one of your friends was really ill. all you wanted every day of the week was the come home and sit in simon’s arms, but he was never there. you just got the notification ‘ill be home tomorrow’. you knew what he was doing, and he knew you knew.

this specific saturday, after months of dealing with the heartache of having your boyfriend cheat on you so often, you snapped. you came to simon’s apartment tired- your feet aching so badly. ‘simon?’ you called out, praying he would be home. you were greeted with silence- all the lights in the house off. you sighed, tears already prickling in your eyes. you checked your phone- notifications from your friends, apps, but not simon. maybe he got tied up at work? you opened your contacts and called him, listening to the phone ring.

you looked at the profile picture you had his contact saved as, your first date as boyfriend/girlfriend. an unforgettable experience. even though you two were just getting to know eachother as a couple, that day felt different. you cooked for him, and you opened up to eachother over a bowl of macaroni and cheese. he said he felt safe with you. his words from that day echoed in your head as the vibrations from your phone ringing him made your hand shake. what happened to your sweet boy?

the phone line connected, and you put it on speaker- not bothered to press it against your ear. ‘simon? hello?’

you could hear grunts in the background, your heart cracked. a female voice answered the phone. your heart shattered. ‘oh… you’re his girlfriend, right?’ the girl snickered. ‘simon, its your girlfriend!!’ you heard her talking to him down the line, making sarcastic jokes about how you were calling him when he was having fun with her. ‘give me the phone, come on.’ you heard him say, although his voice was slightly incoherent due to his distance from the phone.

you hung up the call. the world went black and white. the silence around you rung in your ears. your heart thumped against your chest, the hot tears rolling down your cheeks. you couldn’t do anything but cry.

cry because you thought it would change. cry because you thought he would change.

the phone rang, simon’s name lighting up the screen. your back slid down the wall, your hand over your chest. your breathing got thick, and your nose filled with snot. more tears poked out of your eyes, and your eardrums felt like they were going to explode. god- you were such a dumbass. sitting around, thinking he’d stop his shit.

your hands covered your face, trying to hide your tears from the world around you. you couldnt do this. not for a 9th time. a 10th time. 11th. 12th. it was the worst. you had never felt worse.

he was the worst.

you just wished simon was with you, letting you cry in his arms. you thought, if you loved him enough he would stop. he’s not stopped. you wanted to stop loving him- but you knew you couldnt. god, simon, please stop it. stopitstopitstopitstopit.

you heard the front door unlock, and you remembered you were still in simon’s house. he ran over to you, his eyes full of concern. you looked up at him, apologies running out his mouth. he kneeled down to you, trying to get you to talk to him. ‘please talk to me, y/n. please, please im so sorry lovie m so sorry’ simon’s usually gruff voice was filled with concern. ‘talk to me darlin’ please im sorry’.

your tears of sadness became tears of anger. you tried so hard. you tried to be the best for him. you tried so hard. but he didnt care. he went out, and cheated. he went out, fucking other girls for 5 minutes of pleasure while you were at home, cooking for him. caring for him.

you stared up into his dark eyes that were filled with sorrow and regret. you stood up, backing away from him. ‘where are you going? y/n? talk to me, please.’ he followed you around his apartment as you took your purse and coat, looking around for your wallet and keys aswell. ‘y/n, please. im sorry. im so sorry lovie give me another chance.’ you stopped. ‘give you another chance?’ you said, staring at him with disbelief.

‘i gave you so many chances. you knew i knew. everyone told me to leave you, everyone told me about what was happening. but i thought you would change. i thought you would go back to how you used to be. i miss you, simon and i love you so much but why. why- how could you do this to me..’

tears uncontrollably fell from your eyes, and your knees felt as if they were giving out. you walked away from him, frantically looking for your keys and wallet. you needed to get out of here. away from him. he grabbed your wrist and turned you around the look at him.

‘i can’t convince you that im not a dickhead, baby but please. please im sorry- i cant explain it but i just-’

‘why don’t you love me anymore?’ you yelled, your anger practically radiating off as heat. (in the most love quinn style way btw, youre my bff if you understand)

‘why did you cheat on me? why did you ruin us, simon? you treat me as if i dont have feelings.’ ‘it was just a bit of fun, please lovie. i cant loose you, darlin’

you saw your keys and wallet on an end table. simon went around, following you with his half-assed apologies. you snatched the necessities up, and the feeling of finding them was a true relief. you turned and glared at simon, stopping his babbling- something you werent even listening too anymore.

‘we’re over.’

#cod #cod x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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lostintransist · 1 month ago

Text

Tears of Dreams and Memories | AU

For anyone who needed a happy ending instead of my gut punch of an original, I apparently can be "bullied" by my friends into "fixing" my issues.

After a close call with some creeps, you are put forth by Ghost as the liaison for the 141. A friendship blooms with the whole team and leads to a work visa and a job opportunity with the 141. A job turns into a live-in situation with Simon and a betting pool as to when one of you will crack and finally confess.

AO3 | Original | Original on AO3

Special shout out to an IRL friend and @demothers-empty-blog for helping me get past my slump on this one.

You shouldn’t be running down the halls of the base. You know you shouldn’t be running. But fuck all if they weren’t right on your heels. The men had come back on base drunk and the creepy ones had searched you out. You choked down the sobs that threatened to escape. If you could just get far enough away you might be ab—

You slam into something hard. You had taken the corner fast, a hand still behind you on the wall to help you pivot. You look up, and up, and up. A hard skull mask stares down at you. Blackout paint hides everything beyond the whites of his eyes.

Maniacal laughter starts up from behind you. You can’t stop the flinch that wracks your body. Shifting your aim for the pocket of space between the man and the wall, your socks shift ever so slightly against the inside of your boots. His hand shoots out, grasping your arm before you pass him.

“Wait.”

The tone reeked of a command. No one gave commands on a base like this unless they knew they had the authority to back up the demand. The thump of steps against the thin carpet have you letting out a high-pitched keen and pulling against the bear paw holding you in place.

“Please, please, please let me go.” You barely understand the words tripping off your tongue.

Barbed wire is wrapped around your spine, it pulls tight when two men appear at the end of the hall.

“Ho ho! You found her! Our friend here owes us a good time tonight for bailing on drinks off base.” The blond sways only in his eyes, shifting over your breasts and ass.

The man with the black hair just leers, it’s almost worse.

The man holding you makes no move to let you go or tell off the men who followed you over half of the base for their ‘fun’. A change in the air occurs, a pin of a grenade hitting the dirt.

The hand on your arm tightens. The British accent surprises you, the base had been briefed that a unit on loan from the UK would be joining them for a few months. The line repeated to every man and woman below a certain rank is to leave them alone and if you have any questions submit them to the liaisons.

“Get back to your rooms, you have two seconds to get out of my sight or I will be having a chat with your base commander in the morning.”

They gape at skull man, their drunk minds stumbling trying to catch up.

“What?” The blond questions.

“One.”

Both men start to back up, and the menace in that single word tightens around your throat. You escaped two predators only to land with a stronger one.

“Tw—”

The soldiers take off, the threat finally processes past the alcohol. You pinwheel your arm as their boots disappear behind the corner. You break free of the grip on your arm and start forward away from this new evil. One step is all you can take before arms wrap tight around your chest. He caught your arms too, fingers dangling by your thighs.

All the fight in your body leaves, and your brain decides that there is no escape. Your head rolls forward, you don’t even have the energy to blink.

When your position changes your mind starts recording new memories. Looking around you find yourself on a chair in the kitchen connected to the mess hall. The beast of a man stands in front of you slowly adding hot water to a cup. Your breaths pick up speed, fingers curling on the edge of the chair.

Skull face turns and drops a knee in front of you. He looms close but doesn’t touch any part of you.

“None of that now, I am not here to hurt you. We are just having some tea and then I will walk you to your room.” He speaks with a slow tone as if coaxing a feral cat from beneath a car.

You can’t tell where his accent is from, England for sure but not the common one associated with the country in your mind.

“I..I…I don’t..don’t…like tea.” You stutter at him.

You see his brows draw down despite the mask.

“Well, I will give you a warm cup to hold while I drink my tea then.” His voice is as deep as it should be with the breadth of his shoulders.

He stays on his knee, looking you over until at some point known only to him, he stands. He removes the tea bag from both cups. He adds a splash of milk to both cups and an ungodly amount of sugar. He gives both a quick mix and hands you one. He pops a hip on the stainless steel counter. He’s so damn tall he has his left foot flat on the floor and still comfortably sit on the counter his right foot swaying slightly.

“Can you even,” deep shuddering breath, “call that tea with how much sugar is in it?”

“Can’t call it anything if you don’t try it,” he slips a finger below his mask lifting it enough to fit the mug to his mouth. He wears gloves too.

Once the mask cleared the edge of his jaw you slam your head down. You stare at the tea, the milk slowly swirling into the water. You turn away and take a sip. The idea of milk and water as a drink still didn’t compute but the sugar masked any issues you might have had.

You sip at the drink finishing only about half when the sounds of movement bring your head back to the scary man in the room with you. His hand is stretched out to you. Glancing up and down it you slowly place your cup in his hand. You don’t feel so adrift after the quiet company.

You stand, awkwardly holding your elbows while he rinses the cups and spoon, leaving them in the empty sink. When he turns back to you he motions with his fingers for you to head out of the kitchen. You do as instructed. He picks up the chair on his way out. You hold open the swinging door, manners ingrained from childhood. He nods his thanks, tucking the chair just so below the table.

You don’t move until he looks at you. You let the door swing shut and begin to lead the way back to your room. Once you clear the doors of the mess hall he falls into step with you. You walk the brightly lit halls, walls dotted with darkness for windows. He remains a steady presence at your side until you stop in front of a door that looks exactly like the others.

“Thank you for your help,” you stare at your boots, curling your toes inside them.

“Lock your door tonight.”

With that final command, he turns and walks away. You don’t know where the UK team is staying but it is nowhere near the dorms you slept in. You do as instructed, locking the door behind you after you confirm that your roommate is already in bed, snoring lightly. Sleep comes slowly, a skull mask haunting you behind your eyelids.

✮✮✮

Price stares down at his tea, blinking slowly. He sat in an empty officer’s room. The base commander was courting the 141. He had yet to come out with the goal of this collaboration. He wonders absently if the tip of a flask would make the morning meetings easier to handle.

A file is slapped down on the table in front of him. Ghost sits down, a seat between them.

“I want this one.”

Price blinks at the file, his cup, and then finally his lieutenant.

“It is too early for this. Speak clearly. What do you want?”

In lieu of answering Ghost reaches over and flips open the folder. It’s a personnel file. A neutral-faced woman stares out at him from the small photo.

“I am not helping you get a girlfriend, Ghost.”

His joke doesn’t land. Ghost snatches the mug of tea from his hand.

“Don’t be crass, I hate the team the base commander has given us to work with. I want this one.”

“You want a soldier right out basic who knows next to nothing about this base and has probably never even met the commander to be our new point of contact?” Price can’t keep the exasperation out of his voice.

Ghost slurps at the tea. Price sighs and massages right above his eyebrows. This would be a hard sell to the base commander.

“I’ll see what I can do, now get the fuck out of my face. I don’t want to see you until lunch.”

✮✮✮

The wrinkles on the base commander’s face absorbed light like a black hole. Price stood before the man’s desk, face neutral.

“You want to change from the team of our hand-chosen soldiers to accommodate any need you have on base for a baby? Am I understanding that right?” He flipped through the file Ghost had dropped on the table just this morning.

“My lieutenant has a tendency to eat anyone he doesn’t tolerate.”

“He eats people?” the commander cut in.

“I have no confirmation of if he actually eats people, commander, only that he will chew through any team you give him until they all beg for reassignment. To avoid that strain on your teams I am asking that you give us this one soldier who has been requested.” Price lays the facts out reasonably, tone hinting that the commander would be an idiot to ignore this request.

“How did they even meet? We have strict orders for most of our people to not interact with your team at all,” he tossed down the file on this desk.

“I tend not to ask questions that will only result in a dead-eyed stare. He won’t tell me even if I asked, I’ve learned to roll with what he gives me.”

The commander steeples his fingers, elbows resting on the arms of his office chair. Price noted the power move but was more concerned about what the mess hall would be serving for lunch. He wondered if he could put in a request for a clam chowder, the warm creamy soup would hit the spot.

“Alright, I will reassign your current team and give you this one soldier. The paperwork should be done by dinner. I will have her also move to your section as she will need to be on hand for your team.” The commander leaned back in his chair, “Is there anything else your team needs right now, Captain Price?”

“No sir, everything has been satisfactory. I have a few things to finish up, I will see you at the 1100 meeting.” Price extracts himself from the commander’s office, closing the door behind him.

Soap pushed off the wall falling into step.

“So we getting a new aide? Because Ghost requested one?” He groused. “Ghost who would have bit the aide from the last base if it didn’t mean removing his mask?”

Price smirked, “In all fairness that man was an areshole.”

“Aye he was, but why the request?” Soap pushed open the door they had come to. They were near the training grounds.

“Don’t know Soap. Why don’t we find out?” Price aimed for someone who looked to be in charge.

✮✮✮

You pause, looking around. You were almost sure that someone had just called for you. You look around and see a man waving you down from the edge of the training area. You check that you are clear to cross before jogging over.

“Good, come with me.”

You follow. When you finally slow you are presented to two men. They had to be members of the 141 with skull face. One man, taller than you but not by much kept a trimmed beard, crow’s feet around his eyes. The other man towered over you, almost as tall as skull face, the mohawk added several inches to his height.

“This the recruit you were looking for?” The man who walked you over pointed a thumb in your direction.

“Think so,” the bearded man said. He stuck out his hand, “Nice to meet you, you can call me Price.”

You shake his hand, twice up and down with firm pressure. You had to learn to ‘shake like a man’.

Mohawk man sticks out his hand next, “Soap.”

You shake his hand and nod, turning back to the man who walked you over.

“Is that all, sir? All of us low-ranking members have standing orders to not speak to any of the 141,” you infuse your words with an ‘I’m just doing my job’ tone.

Soap snorts out a laugh, covering it poorly with a cough into his fist.

The man before you stutters before Price jumps in.

“Thank you, that will be all.” He can’t help but smile as you nod and turn on your heel heading back to your task.

As you are walking away you hear Soap’s comment.

“I can see why ‘e wants her, much more spunk there than anywhere else on this base.”

✮✮✮

The news comes down the line of your reassignment to become the sole attendant of the 141. You scarf down dinner, they wanted you presented to the team at 1800. You speed walk to your room, the clock showing a measly twenty minutes to pack your life up to move halfway across base.

You make it, squeaking through the door exactly the time you were requested. The base commander stands, hands tucked in one another behind his low back. He stands looking out the window over a group of training soldiers.

He ignores your presence for a moment before turning towards you.

“Ah, come in. We have a few things to discuss before I introduce you to the team. One question before we start, do you know why you were requested to be our liaison?”

You answer honestly, “Sir, I have not even a singular idea as to why.”

He hums, “We need this to go well. We need to borrow from the 141 from time to time and can only do that if they agree. Your job is to do whatever is needed to secure their agreement.”

Your stomach turns sour at the word choice, do whatever is needed. The military is no different than a pimp, only difference is one gets cheers and free meals at IHOP.

“Of course, sir, I will do my best.”

“Good, now here is what you need to know…”

The meeting takes another twenty minutes; your brain a bit fried when you lift your bag to follow the commander.

You take stock of the nicer flooring and art as you enter the building just beside the commanders. He lived on base since his wife passed nearly a year ago. You enter a room, you would still call it a living room despite all the time in the military.

Soap and a man you haven’t seen sit on the couch intently focused on their game of Mario Kart. They raced along the Rainbow Road. Price and skull face sat at a table near the wall. Price worked away on a laptop and skull face held an e-reader. A fifth man reclined in a chair near Soap, clearly asleep. Feet spread wide, head tipped across the back of the chair, an arm thrown over his eyes.

“This is where you will be staying. Captain Price will be in charge of you until they leave in a few months time. I will leave the introductions of the team to him.” The commander claps a hand on your shoulder, knocking you forward a step.

Price looks up at the motion, pulling a small headphone from his ear.

“Ah, Commander. Thank you for delivering our new aide, we will take good care of her.” He stood, striding over and offering a hand again.

You shake it again, focused on the retreating sounds of the commander. Once the door clicks behind him you feel the tension release slightly from your shoulders.

“Welcome, let’s get you introduced to everyone and then get you settled.” Price smiled at you warmly, the crow’s feet showing it to be a common state for him. “You’ve met Soap, next to him is Gaz.”

Neither man acknowledges their name, too focused on the game. They are on their third lap, neck, and neck for the lead. Gaz drops back slightly and throws a blue shell, effectively taking first. Soap jumps to his feet, shouting.

“You feckin’ cheatin’ son of a whore! Not even Mother Mary will save you after this!” His accent came out thick in his anger.

Gaz just laughed as he crossed the finish line. Soap rolled in at fifth. With their outburst done Price continues his introductions.

“The sleeping man is Roach, he doesn’t speak much so don’t worry if he doesn’t respond to you. And then we have our L.T., Ghost,” Price gestures to the masked man.

You can’t stop the words. They escape, your brain slowing down the embarrassment to exacerbate the stress.

“Ghosts don’t have bones.” Such a matter-of-fact tone. Fuck a duck, why are you like this?

Ghost stands. You swallow hard. He clears the space between you in three long strides. Mother-fucking giant of a man.

“What?”

He asks as if he hadn’t heard, not as if he were offended.

You roll your lips between your teeth, answering a bit louder despite his now closer position.

“Ghosts don’t have bones, so your mask is a bit of a silly choice.”

Every man awake busts into laughter except Ghost. You glance over and Gaz is hanging off Soap, struggling to breathe. Soap is curled forward hugging his stomach. Price smothers a chuckle next to you.

You look back at Ghost, his eyes squint slightly at you. You give an awkward smile.

“L.T. how has no one ever thought about that before?” Gaz is out of breath and falls back into laughter after his question.

Ghost blinks once at you.

“Follow me, I will show you to your room.”

You wince at his back, throwing a glance at Price.

“You’ll be okay, he won’t hold it against you,” the laughter in his voice didn’t reassure you.

You scurry after the man you insulted by accident, wincing at every sound you make. The only sound Ghost makes is the slight swish of his pants as they cross with each step. He leads you down a short hall, turning right at the first choice. There are two doors down this short hall. He taps the second one.

“This is your room. Mine is next door.”

“I am really sorry, I didn’t mean to make a joke of your mask,” you stumble over your words.

“Don’t apologize, it’s a funny thought and the men will take to you easier after the joke,” he replies evenly.

You wince again and look at the door.

“Is there anything I need to handle tonight?”

“No, other than we have a nightly debrief at 2000 in the main room.”

You blow out a short breath. “Okay, I can do that.”

Stepping into the room you are surprised at the single bed, dresser, and desk. Still all military issue but nicer. You drop your bag on the bed, looking over the space. You hadn’t truly been alone since you signed up, this might be an adjustment.

Turning back to the door you startle, Ghost is still standing in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes on you.

“Can I help you with something, lieutenant?” you ask, curious as to why he is still standing in the doorway.

“No. Feel free to join us when you are ready.” He turns away, the sound of his steps quickly fading.

You sit down on the chair at the desk. You put your head in your hands, elbows propped on your knees. How the hell did you end up here? Last night you were running for your life and now you are helping court a specialty group from the UK for the base commander. The only person from the team you spoke to last night had been Ghost. Did he have something to do with this change?

You eventually join the team back in the main room. The 2000 debrief had just been a fancy way of saying they all have a cup of tea before bed. Roach pulled out a deck of cards and you soon found yourself in a game of poker you would lose. You laugh more at the table with these men than you had in all the months you had been in the military. You fell asleep that night a soft smile on your face, the door locked tight.

✮✮✮

The months passed quickly, you became texting buddies with everyone on the team beyond Ghost. He watched you. You noticed but ignored it. He happened to be a grown man and if he had something to say he would have to buck up and use his words.

Roach comes alive through your text conversations, he is full of observations and quirky sayings. He is your favorite texting buddy.

As the time for the 141 to return come crept closer without a hard yes or no from Price about working with the base in the future the commander crept further up your ass. After a particularly unhelpful meeting where the commander ended up yelling at you, you stormed into your room. Throwing yourself face down on your bed, muttering curses.

“Can I help you?”

Your eyes blow wide in the darkness created by your face being compressed into the mattress.

Shit. Fuck. Dammit. You had missed your door and landed on Ghost’s bed. You pushed up from the mattress on your hands and one knee. The other foot already searched for the ground.

“Nope, sorry Ghost. I just had a bad meeting and missed my door,” you can’t help the blush overtaking your face.

One foot on the floor you pull your torso up, ready to turn and race out of the room once your second foot touches the carpet.

“Pause.”

You freeze finally looking up to see Ghost working at his desk. He has a soft balaclava on today, still a skull painted on but much more inviting than the hard mask. He has no darkening makeup on today, you can see dark brows and light, fair skin of England showing through the hole in the mask. You devour the peek into him.

“Sit,” he turns from you pulling open a drawer of his desk.

You shift to do as you are told. He has never been unkind to you, just the opposite actually. The two men who chased you across the base had been reassigned across the country shortly after you joined the team. Neither of you said it out loud but you know that only Ghost had been aware of what happened.

He spins his chair back towards you. He holds out his e-reader. This thing goes everywhere with him. Ghost could be called a voracious reader. You glance between the small device and his face, not touching the offering.

“Pick anything you like, feel free to stay until you feel better.”

You reach forward, fingers slow to grasp. Once you have a firm grip he lets go and turns back to his work. Starting the device a book opens halfway through. You back out to the main page and scroll through the options.

Several of the titles garner a raised brow.

“Didn’t take you for a smut reader, Ghost.”

The only response is a creaking of the chair as he shifts. Your lips twitch with a smile. You choose a title vaguely familiar and start from the beginning. You read sitting on Ghost’s bed until the nightly debrief. The next day you find yourself knocking at his closed door. You’re just going to ask to borrow his reader until you can finish the story.

When he opens the door what could be called a smile reaches his eyes. The edges of them shift together the barest hint.

“It’s on the bed, right where you left off.”

Bashfulness overcomes you, forcing your gaze to swing down to your boots. You slip past him, sitting against the wall feet dangling off the bed. Once the story has well and truly sucked you in you reach down and remove your boots, eyes not leaving the words as they thud to the floor. Ghost doesn’t say a single word as you end up stretching across his bed feet swinging through the air.

A knock at the door jolts you out of the story. Price’s voice comes after a knock slightly farther away.

“Debrief will be a bit late today, 2030.”

You lock eyes with Ghost, remaining silent. As Price’s footsteps walk away you flip to a sitting position and shove your toes back into your boots. You set the reader down, focused on getting the ties just right. Once they feel tight enough you stand.

“Thanks for letting me read, I guess I will come back when you have a moment you can spare it.” You can’t keep your fingers from digging into your pockets. You can’t believe you rolled yourself all over his bed while reading.

“You are welcome any time. If you are close why don’t you take it tonight and return it in the morning?” his head tilts ever so slightly.

“Really?” Your brows rise as does your voice with the question. “If you don’t mind. I can finish the book after debrief and return it before lights out.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he raised a brow as a challenge.

“I’m not saying you do,” you glare at him. “Confirming your level of seriousness is not doubting you.”

“If you say so.”

You stick your tongue out at him.

“Careful with that thing, some could take it as an invitation.” He turns back to his desk as you gape at him.

Did Ghost flirt with you?

You snap up the e-reader, holding it close to your chest as you leave the room. You let the door hang ajar, knowing it bothers him.

You wander into the main room, tucking the small tablet into your side pocket. Setting the kettle to boil you prepare a cup for each man, dropping a preferred tea bag in each. As everyone settles in around the table you finish adding milk and sugar to mugs and passing them out. Ghost sits last.

“Sugar with tea for you,” you place the cup down in front of him and take the seat to his right.

Soap chuckled, “Go’ta say L.T. she’s got you pegged.”

“Too bad we can’t throw her in our luggage for when we head home,” Gaz chimed in.

Price leaned back in his chair, “Well now there’s a thought. How long do you have left?”

You finish your sip of hot chocolate, “Only about a year, but I am not planning on re-upping.”

“Wanna come work for the 141?” Price lifts a brow at you.

“Put that offer in writing so I can get a visa and absolutely,” you grin. With how much Price griped about paperwork you doubted he would follow through on getting you a work visa.

He glared at you, “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Have you known me to do anything less?” you challenge.

“Do the paperwork Price, or I will.” Ghost dropped the statement like a smoking gun to a criminal case.

You smirk down into your cup, taking a sip to avoid a comment. Ghost hates paperwork more than Price and is so meticulous with it because he hates when he has to redo the ‘fucking devil’s work’.

The men leave the table as their tea is finished, rinsing the mugs before settling into the final activity of the night. You stay at the table and pull out the e-reader. The book sucks you back in.

“Is that Ghost’s reader?” Soap’s shocked voice rips you from the climax of the story.

“What? Uh, yeah.” You settle back into the battle, your main character taking a knife to the ribs.

“Did he let you borrow it or…” he lets the question hang, a noose swinging in the wind.

Irritated, you put the tablet down. Turning to look at Soap you reply.

“Of course he let me borrow it. I’ve been using it for a few days.”

Soap’s brows shoot up his forehead, nearly touching his mohawk.

“Really? Well, that’s an interesting development.”

“I guess? Now my character just got stabbed so if there is nothing else I am going to finish this before lights out so I can return it.” You turn back to the table and get absorbed back into reading.

You return the reader to Ghost before bed and only use it in behind the safety of his door until they leave.

✮✮✮

The anticipation of pain has never once made the pain hurt less.

They are leaving, your friends are heading home to the UK. Price is the one who sat you down and gave you the dates. Two days, in two days you would walk them to their plane and have to move on like you didn’t find family in some of the scariest men you have ever met. You hold it together until you get out of his sight.

Tears slip down your cheeks, a silent testament of the love that has grown for them. You slip into Ghost’s room. He should be out right now, off training with Roach. He isn’t.

Asleep with his boots on, Ghost is sprawled out across his bed. One hand dangles out over the edge. You sit against the bed, his arm draping over your shoulder. You hold his large hand in both of yours. You know he is probably awake, but he does you the kindness of staying still. He isn’t wearing his gloves today. Ghost had many healed scrapes and scars to explore. You let your fingers drift over his hand, bumping over every ridge.

You sniff as tears continue to flow down your cheeks, splattering against your shirt. It’s hard for you to believe that you can love these wacky guys to the point of pain at their departure. You slid right into the dynamic of the crew as if they had held a place for you. Cutting off arguments between the 141 and everyone else had become your primary job. You could talk down any member from retaliatory action for both minor and major slights. You toed the lines between both Price and the base commander to find common enough ground for their agreement to be settled. You still didn’t know why they were here, only that an agreement had been reached with you as a go-between more often than not. Now they were leaving. Leaving you behind. Knowing they have jobs waiting for them, for missions to be completed doesn’t ease the ache in your chest.

You stay like that, fingertips drifting over the skin of his hand until the storm in your chest has petered out and the only signs it ravaged your soul are the tracks on your cheeks and the tears drying on your shirt.

You sniff once, sliding your fingers to fit between his.

“I know you’re probably awake, but thank you for letting me use you for comfort.” You squeeze his fingers once before standing.

Scooting out and away from the bed you take care to not look at him. This private comfort you stole from his sleeping form could only be that, private. Seeing his eyes would shatter the flimsy barrier to your heart and you couldn’t afford to lose any more of that worn organ to men across the sea. Your fingers stayed locked with his as you stood, reaching, touching until at last the kiss of his fingerprints whispered their goodbyes.

You close the door softly behind you, heading for the bathroom. Standing before the mirror with the bright white light illuminating your blotchy face you tuck away your pain to deal with in the dark. You scrub your face with cool water and redo your hair. When a soldier with a job looks back at you instead of a woman losing her family you leave the bathroom.

✮✮✮

Two days later you say your goodbyes. Your number is entered into so many new phones and you are repeatedly asked which secure platform you will use to chat with them all. Their flight is scheduled to leave at 0320, at midnight you are scouring the rooms they used confirming everyone has packed everything.

Ghost finds you ass in the air while your hand stretches for a book Gaz had been missing for three weeks. It had fallen between his bed and the wall. When you snag it you pull back triumphant. You see his legs first, glancing all the way up at his face.

“Oh, hi, Ghost. I am just checking everyone got everything before you all leave,” you smile up at him.

He doesn’t respond, just offering a hand down to you. You take it gratefully, pulling yourself up. Taking a step back you look him over. He is wearing his soft balaclava today, he tends to wear them when he needs to be more comfortable than scary.

“All ready to go home? I bet you are going to be glad for an overcast day and a good cuppa,” the happiness in your voice isn’t faked. Ghost has complained to you a few times about the terrible tea here.

“Ready to be home, not looking forward to the flight.” He looks you over scouring your face, his gaze scrapes like steel wool over your nerves. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

The husky tone of his voice catches you off guard enough that you comply without thought. Gaz’s book is lifted from your hands, leaving them empty.

As you stand you hear the buzzing of the bright light above you, the sound of Velcro opening, and the quiet sounds of breaths, both yours and Ghosts. The fingers on your cheek are a surprise, the callouses marking your skin as they trail from your jaw to your eye.

You push your face into the touch, savoring the contact. His thumb brushes against your lips. You flick the tip of your tongue against it, tasting the ridges unique to that finger. He slides away from your mouth, thumb and fingers curling around your jaw and tipping your face up. He kisses you then. Riots start inside your body. Part of you yearns to open your eyes, devour him, touch the breadth of his flesh. The other, stronger part of you screws your eyes shut tighter, taking the gift as it is given and demanding nothing more.

He kisses as if he bottles his kindness and doles it out only for you. The press of his lips against yours will keep you going. He pulls back ever so slightly.

“I’ll see you in a year dove, stay safe,” he says the words against your lips, pressing them together once more. He puts something in your hands as he steps away, his fingers still on your face.

You keep your eyes closed, waiting for some sign it would be safe to open them again. His thumb taps your jaw before drifting away.

“Open your eyes already you silly bird,” the smile in his voice is unmistakable. His fingers slip away as your eyes open.

This mask is down again, you smirk up at him.

“Why am I a silly bird for respecting boundaries you big oaf? If you wanted me to see your face you wouldn’t have asked me to close my eyes.”

He shrugs, “Didn’t think you would let me kiss you if you saw it coming.”

You can’t stop the full belly laugh that erupts out of you. “I don’t know how to respond to that!”

Shaking your head you look down and pause. Your head snaps up.

“You’re giving me your e-reader? Why?” your brows draw together as you look at him.

He shrugs again, shoulders shifting just enough to indicate he didn’t have a real reason to share.

“It’s still logged in, feel free to buy any book that piques your interest.” His hands lift to your face, cupping your cheeks.

Your eyes flutter closed at the contact. His forehead connects with yours, his warm breath kissing your face as it filters through the mask.

“Don’t die before I get there okay?” You open your eyes, staring straight into his. This close you can see the variations of brown striping through them.

“Can’t promise nothin’, but I’ll do my best.” He sounds sincere.

You give in to the urge to hug him. He hesitates before returning the gesture. You stand with him, listening to his heartbeat until you have soaked in the pressure of his presence. You pull back first, wiping at your eyes.

“Let’s get you to your ride, Price will come looking for you soon.”

You grab Gaz’s book, tuck the e-reader in a side pocket, and walk with Ghost to the hanger. The silence between you is comfortable and tinged with the moments you have shared in silence before.

As you get close you wave the book at Gaz who jogs over.

“Where did you find it? I looked everywhere,” he takes the book gratefully.

“Everywhere but under your bed obviously.”

Ghost snorts, walking past you to join Price near the gangplank of the plane. You’ve said all your goodbyes at this point. You only stay to see them off. Everyone but Ghost gives you a hug or a pat on the back as they board the plane. You wave until the door shuts and watch until the dim lights of the wings are swallowed by the darkness.

You blow out a breath and speak into the darkness.

“One year, you can make it one more year.”

✮✮✮

Six months in you can tell things are getting bad for them. It takes longer and longer for replies to come into your messages and when Soap is willing to share what’s happening it is summed up in a single word.

Mole.

They go dark for another three months. Your days are filled with a background of worry and a foreground of doing what you are told.

Ghost is the one who breaks the silence.

>Your paperwork is through, your visa should arrive soon.

The cheer you give in the mess hall has every eye on you. Pinching your lips between your teeth you clean up your tray and slip outside.

>Anything special I should do after it arrives?

His reply comes quick.

>Pack.

You laugh. Some would miss the dry wit with which he pokes at you. You miss him, them.

>I have a few months left before I am out. Should I fly into Heathrow?

>Yes. Send Price your flight details and someone will come get you.

You send a kissy face emoji in response, imagining the eye roll that this would incite.

The final three months slip by like water. Your off time is filled with nailing down travel details and fighting with Price via email over the contract he sent you. He set up a fair contract, but he wanted you on his team so why not ask for a few extra vacation days?

✮✮✮

Soap is the one to pick you up when your flight lands. You drag your achy bones through customs, the clash of accents all around you weighing on your brain.

You set your bags down to hug him. He laughs.

“Miss me bonnie lass?”

You mumble your reply into his chest.

“I’m not anyone’s ‘bonnie lass’.” You nearly match his accent on the words.

“I donne believe you, but tis good to see you back. Let’s get you to HQ.” He looks down at your bags, “This all you have?”

You ignore the prick of judgment the question causes in you. There is nothing wrong with a transatlantic move that only has you bring a carry-on and a backpack.

“That’s it, I pack pretty light. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He gives you a heavy side-eye.

“Never said there was.”

Conversation falls back into familiar territory as Soap fights his way out of the airport, car inching forward until they are at last out of the city. You don’t fight the pull of your eyelids to meet in sleep as Soap sings along to the radio. A hand on your shoulder wakes you. Soap smirks at you from the other seat.

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty.”

You roll your eyes and focus beyond the windshield at an old barn. You glance at Soap, confused.

He chuckles as he replies, “England is old, we have to reuse what we can.”

“Alright, whatever you say.” You step out of the car, feeling odd to be leaving the left side as a passenger.

You leave your bags in the car. Soap wanted to introduce you to the full team before showing you to the shared flat you would be living in until you could secure your own lodgings.

He is talking about the area, waving his arms this way, and that pointing out the range and the picnic tables. He pulls open a person-sized door beside the massive barn doors.

“We’re home!” Soap calls into the large building.

You step through the door with a shiver, as if someone walked over your grave.

The building might have once been a barn, but industrial beams now held the roof aloft. To the right of the wide-open space a set of stairs led to a second level. A few small doors were scattered around the walls that did not hold the door you came through. The main space held a few long tables bracketed by chairs. Beyond them appeared to be an elevated platform where you could imagine staged fights occurred.

A stream of unfamiliar faces appears and greets you, all rising from the table where books and mugs lay scattered along the surface. Thankfully everyone returns to their task when done speaking with you. Roach catches your eye, he pulls you into a spinning hug.

You let out a squealing laugh as you pat at his shoulders.

“Put me down, Roach!”

He does settle your feet on the ground, hands settling on your waist as he bumps his forehead to yours.

Welcome home friend.

“I’m glad to see you again.” To break the tension, you ruffle his bright blond hair. Roach scrunches his nose and squeezes his hands once before stepping back.

Soap propels you deeper into the building with a hand on your back.

“Where is everyone else?” You glance at his profile, catching sight of a new bump along the ridge of his nose. “That’s new.”

He glances at you, “Price and Ghost will be in their offices, Gaz could be anywhere. And what’s new?”

You press a finger to his face. “This.”

Soap goes a tiny bit cross-eyed looking at the point you touched.

“Rookie caught me slacking.” He looks up and smiles at you. “Ready to see everyone else?”

“Lead on my lovely guide,” you gesture to the hallway before you.

The hallway must lead to a back building, though it sloped downward slightly. Several minutes pass with Soap pointing out bathrooms and kitchens and even your small office next to Price’s. He doesn’t knock as he pops the door open. Kyle is standing, finger-pointing at something on a desk while Price sits peering down at the same. Both men look up, dour expressions melting away when they catch sight of you.

“You made it!” Kyle pulls you into a tight hug that you happily return. “How was your flight?”

“My flights?” You emphasize the s on your last word as you step around Kyle to give Price a half hug along his shoulders. “All four of them were fine, some longer than others though.”

“Soap get you settled in yet?” Price asks as his arm snakes around you in return.

“Not yet, Cap. Figured she would want to say hello to everyone before I drop her off at the roulette flat,” Soap answers for you. You take the opportunity to step back into your own space.

“Roulette flat?” You glance between the three of them as they fight down smirks.

“We keep a flat for new transfers or men in hot waters with their birds who can’t go home. You’re welcome to stay there until you can secure lodgings you prefer.” Price shifts “Have you seen everyone?”

Shaking your head you reply, “Not yet. Still looking for Ghost.”

“Mmm, probably down in the shooting range. If you follow this hallway to the end you will find the range.” John pointed away from the direction you had already come from. “Soap would take you but I need his opinion on something.”

Taking the gentle dismissal you smile and nod, secretly grateful to be able to see Ghost without an audience. Pulling the door shut quietly you let gravity guide your steps further into the earth and this odd base John headed.

A thick metal door, wires encased in the single glass window near the top sat at the end of the long hall. The push bar chills your fingers as you step into the cool concrete room. Six little stalls, open above and below a rib-high counter lined the room. Ghost stood in the fourth one down, feet braced wide as he looked down at the shelf.

To avoid startling him you said something before the door shut fully.

“Hey there stranger.”

His shoulders stiffen as he turns, you watch his muscles relax as he takes in the sight of you. Searching him for changes you let the silence settle between you. He does the same.

You can’t bridge the gap. When tension layers the silence Ghost breaks it.

“How were your flights?”

“Long, my ass hurts from sitting,” you answer honestly.

Ghost nods. His thumbs settle in the top of his pockets.

“Misse—”

The door slams into you, flinging you forward as you fight to catch your balance.

“Bonnie? Aye, why are ye standing behind the door?” Soap looks at you around the door he threw into your back, perplexed.

“Because I like being assaulted with metal sheets,” you deadpanned.

Ghost let out a huff of a laugh. You shoot a glance at him.

“Ready to go lass?” Soap’s question pulls your gaze back to him.

“Where is she staying?” Ghost must not have meant to ask; his fingers tighten at his pants.

“Roulette flat,” Soap replies, happy to answer his L.T.

Ghost nods once and turns back to his shooting range. A series of metal clicks tell you he is readying another round.

You follow Soap from the room, eyes lingering on those broad shoulders until the door separates you. Several muffled bangs follow you to the surface.

✮✮✮

Roulette Flat lived up to its name. You had a new flatmate near every week; the time you came home to find a young member of the 141 having sex in your borrowed bed was the day you threw yourself into the chair opposite Price’s desk.

“I can’t keep living like this John!” You press the heels of your palms into your eyes as if that would wipe the vision of ass you had caught when trying to drop your bag after work.

You had fled the flat and spent the evening taking up a booth at the pub searching for a new flat. Nothing close enough had worked out when you sent off inquiries. Everyone had replied that any roommate positions had been filled or the landlord ‘conveniently’ had another call coming in when they heard your accent.

“My food getting eaten is annoying, but I can deal with that but this?” You sit forward arm flinging wide, “In my bed?!”

John looks sympathetic as you express your frustrations.

“What’s in your bed?” Ghost’s voice surprises you.

Glancing at him towering over you, you let out a huff and leaned back in the chair, defeated. He is wearing of soft balaclava sans eye black.

“Rookies having sex in the bed I am using at the flat.”

“You haven’t found a flat in the month you have been here?” One brow creeps up.

“No, by the time I get a response from any listing the spot is filled.” Frustrated you press hard on your cheekbones before rubbing out the pain.

John and Ghost had been having a silent conversation over your head. You can tell by the way Ghost sighs and folds his arms across his chest and John looks at him expectantly.

“I…Have a spare room.” Ghost drops his shoulders, forcing a face of calm, “If you wouldn’t mind staying with me.”

Smiling softly up at him you think over the offer.

“How about this, you give me a month. If, in a month, you still actually want to offer and not be bullied into it by Cap and I haven’t found a flat I will take you up on your offer.”

Ghost lets out a puff of air through his nose as he uncrosses his arms.

“Wanna go down to the range?” He tips his head to indicate the shooting range.

A deep sadness washes over you. It must show in your face from the way Ghost tightens slightly.

“I would love to do that, and if you aren’t busy tomorrow evening I would be happy to practice with you. Gaz, Soap, and Roach all asked me out for a drink tonight when I rolled in this morning. I would invite you, but I know you already told Soap you didn’t want to go out tonight.” The idea of missing time with him tugs your heart in your chest. You lock eyes with Ghost, warming in the subtle shades of brown in his irises.

Neither of you had found time or the gumption to start a conversation about how things were left a year ago. Frankly, you were worried and slightly devastated that he might not want to explore what might be between you.

John reminds you that you are in his office by a loud clearing of his throat.

Heat flashes through your chest as you snap your gaze to him.

“Much as I love these chats, was there anything either of you needed me for?”

“No,” you stand, pushing up from the chair. “I came by to bitch. Sorry.”

Ghost shakes his head. Both of you head for the door.

John watches the two of you leave his office, leaving a breath of space between bodies. When you clear the frame, you turn and look up with a smile for Ghost. It melts the poor bastard. He reaches out too slow, skeleton gloves barely miss catching your hand as you head for your own office.

Leaning forward John lets the creak of his office chair tell his lieutenant that he saw. Ghost steps back inside and shuts the door, leaning his head on the wood as his body curls around the hand still on the knob.

“Talking to her would resolve this tension for you, Simon,” John interlaces his fingers and rests his chin atop his touching thumbs.

By way of response, Simon slams his head repeatedly. A sharp whistle from John causes him to pause.

“Whatever messages you’ve been trying to send are being missed. If she moves in, then she will at least be close enough to let you have more than one chance at telling her.”

“You are more meddlesome than a matchmaking grandmother John,” Ghost growled to the door.

“Be that as it may, with the pace at which you are moving one of the rookies will try and put moves on her before you can say her name out loud,” John observed.

The hinges creaked under the force of Simon containing his emotions.

“Confirm shooting with her for tomorrow night. I will make that an order if it means you get out of my office and find yourself in hers.”

“Order it,” Simon growled.

John’s brows lifted but he gave the order. Simon moved the door as if its presence holding back the traffic from the hall had offended his entire bloodline. The knock from down the hall drifted followed by your surprised greeting.

God his lieutenant needed a kick in the ass sometimes. John saw how you watched Simon, the simmering feelings went both ways. Now if only someone would shift.

✮✮✮

Roach enjoyed spending time with you. The brightness you brought to the conversations and the way you always included him despite his low likelihood of responding left him feeling treasured. You had slipped away to grab another round of drinks for the table.

“Ah fuck,” Gaz pushed away roughly from the table. “Up, we need to save her.”

Soap and Roach stood, finding you quickly. You were in the face of a man, red in the face, who loomed over you. Your shouts could be heard across the bar.

“You wanna touch women? Real fucking classy of you. No. Don’t look at her. Look at me, the loud American who can happily kick your ass.”

Gaz is the first one able to cross the room and loop an arm around your waist, tugging you away from the confrontation.

They were nearly clear of the door when the man spat a nasty comment about one of the guys and you were gone. They forgot sometimes, that while you might not be SAS, you were a trained soldier. Two body shots, a forehead to the bigot’s nose, and a blow to his knee and he went down like a tree felled.

Spitting on the man who lay moaning on the ground you tossed £20 on the counter before stalking out of the pub muttering to yourself about assholes who needed to learn to keep their hands to themselves and pick up a fucking book.

Roach, Soap, and Gaz all shared a look before following you out the door.

Soap threw an arm over your shoulder as you stomped down the sidewalk.

“I don’t remember you being this feisty when we were in the States lass.”

“That? I had to do something while waiting out my last year. Used that time to work on standing up for women, and myself, more. I started taking more classes about, well everything really. Languages, more sparring, anything they would approve me for to keep me busy while you all dealt with your mole situation.” That brought your feet to a stop. “You did take care of that didn’t you?”

Roach nodded. He had been on that mission with Price, put down a few people who were telling tales that didn’t belong to them.

“Good. Can’t have someone hurt my guys,” you nodded firmly before setting off down the lane again.

“Your guys?” Gaz nudged you in the ribs with his elbow and a wink.

You roll your eyes and bump him back.

“You know what I mean.”

They did, they all knew. Claiming those in your care happened to everyone.

✮✮✮

You don’t wait at the door after knocking. Price had confirmed Ghost would be in his office filling out a shitload of paperwork he had been ignoring. The desk is facing the door, Ghost glancing up from his computer as you slam the door behind you.

No chairs other than the one he is using exist in the space. You sit on the floor with a huff, back against the wall nearest to him. Elbows on knees you focus on breathing and not murdering.

“Is your offer still open?”

The chair creaks as he turns to peer down at you.

“Yes.”

“Good. If it wasn’t I was going to end up playing Russian roulette when I got to the flat.”

“What happened?”

“My underwear have gone missing,” you force the words past clenched teeth. “I had to wash the pair I am wearing in the sink and go commando while they dried.”

He didn’t prevent the show of true emotion from flickering across his face. You caught the tail end of it as you glanced up at him. You might end up with more than you bargained for by letting that problem into the light.

“Would tonight after work be okay then? I need to pop by a shop and get new underwear,” you rest your head in your hands, utterly exhausted.

“I’ll get a bed there by tonight for you.”

He hesitates before resting a hand on your head.

“I bought that long romance series I have seen you slowly renting from the library,” his words are quiet.

His gloves catch on your hair as you look up at him.

“Why?”

A shrug drops his hand from you. He turns back to his computer.

“That’s all I get Lieutenant? A shrug?” You needle.

The side eye he gives you would have scared the recruits. You knew better. He would never hurt you. You send a wink up at him, smirking as he turns back to his computer.

✮✮✮

John took you to a pub for your employee check-in. You had been living with Ghost for nearly a month now. It worked out better than you expected. Ghost kept a clean space and there is a running list of groceries needed that you take turns picking up. On days when the timing allows you to ride into work with him you play DJ. He has a decent playlist on his cracked ancient phone.

You had asked about the phone once when you had been poking around his music.

“Why is your phone so old?”

“Still works,” he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“Yeah, but it’s so old they don’t even make this charger anymore!” You pointed to the butt of the phone, “And it still has an aux port!”

He grunted in acknowledgment.

“Red light,” you threw out as you glanced up before going back to your perusal of his artists.

Ghost had a hard time anticipating drivers, especially when they were directly ahead of him. You joked that he needed glasses or contacts in front of Soap who immediately took great pleasure in telling you how looking through Ghost’s scope left him with a headache behind the eye he used. The man in question had glared at both of you before stalking off. If he started to use cheater glasses at home and the text size on his Kindle shrunk there was no use mentioning it.

“Still liking the job?” John questions as the waiter drops both drinks on the table.

“Loving it actually. It got a lot easier when I got out of the roulette flat. I was this close,” you hold your fingers apart to the point of a single piece of paper making it through the space, “To killing someone.”

“You moved in with Ghost right?” John takes a sip of his beer, the foam clinging to his mustache.

You nod as you take a sip of your cocktail, “He’s been leagues better as a roommate. No real difference than when you were all back on the base with me.”

A boisterous group of young men draw your attention to the front door. Clocking the way they scope out the room and find the pretty young women and sidle up to the bar around them.

“Any complaints about the work then? Do you think you’re ready to be thrown on rotation for on-site management if we need it?”

John is looking at you but you can’t tear your eyes from the scene before you. One guy is getting all up in the space of a woman who is clearly uncomfortable. She excuses herself from the bar. The monster drops something in her drink smirking to himself as it sinks to the bottom of the glass.

Cutting your eyes back to John you ignore his previous questions.

“Did Ghost ever tell you how we met?”

Confused by the jump in conversation his brows pull together but he replies.

“No.”

“He saved me the night before the transfer from two would-be rapists on base. I took the year I had to wait for my service to be over to practice being bold. There is a man at the bar who put something in a woman’s drink. I need you to watch for a confused woman and tell her what happened. I am going to try and get a picture of his ID and if I have to drink her beer drop me off with Ghost. I should have anywhere from ten to thirty minutes until it takes full effect.”

Standing you don’t give him a chance to argue about your plan.

Simon stands from the couch due to the knock at his door. Checking the peephole he is concerned to see you draped over John’s shoulder. Unlocking the door he pulls it open. John hefts you in, you stumble further into his side giggling as you do.

“The hell happened John? Thought you were going for a quick drink,” Simon grabs your other arm and helps settle you into the couch you had insisted they needed.

“It was supposed to be!” John snaps at him.

“Hi Si,” you coo up at him.

“How do you know my name?” He growls down at you. He should be kinder, you are off your ass drunk.

“I don’t know your name,” you look up at him and put your fingers to your chest in an affronted manner, “The credit card company does. I put the mail on your bed.”

That makes more sense. Those fucking vultures could find him anywhere he moved for longer than three months. He had seen the offer on his pillow and had already shredded it.

“The fuck happened John? She knows her limits,” Simon growled at his captain.

“She saw a woman’s drink get spiked and ended up drinking it in a bid to get a picture of the rapist’s ID.” John crossed his arms, feet wide as he stared down at you. You blanched and went slightly green. Before either man could react you had spewed the contents of your stomach across the rug you had bought to go with the couch.

“Simon,” your voice came out small between coughs, “I don’t feel so good.”

He doesn’t think. Scooping you up from the couch, leaving your puddle of sick where it lay.

“John, grab a sweater from the hook. We are taking her to the hospital,” his words come out harshly from his tight throat.

A captain gave orders, but he also knew when to follow them. He grabbed one of Simon’s hoodies and locked the knob as he followed Simon’s long steps.

“I’ll drive,” John unlocks his car from the fob once it is in sight.

Simon sits in the back seat, clicking you and himself in. He holds you: when the nurse checks you out, when they draw blood, when you fall asleep wrapped in his hoodie an IV in your arm pumping you with fluids. He holds on tighter when you wake up with a soft smile and words of thanks for him.

“Thanks, Simon. I knew you would take care of me.”

“Why did you do that?” His jaw quivers behind his black medical mask.

“You saved me when we met, I figured that the least I could do is save someone else,” the soft doe eyes you point up at him will be his undoing.

He rests his chin on the top of your head before your eyes undo more of the stitches holding his soul in place.

✮✮✮

Simon, as he let you call him off the job, made the worst jokes when grocery shopping. As you were perusing the wine aisle he leaned over the bar of the cart staring at you. When you finally glanced at him like you knew he had been waiting for he hit you with a pun.

“Grape deal on wine today.”

The deadpan delivery causes your lips to quirk even as you fight it down.

“This is not helping me choose a box to take home.”

“Dill with it. We also need pickles.”

That one caused you to laugh out loud.

“Come one big guy, we still have half a store to get through,” You smile as you wave him on, grabbing a boxed wine that wasn’t terrible the last time you tried it.

He loomed behind you, even as he curled over the cart.

“Hey.”

Looking from the eggs you find Simon pointing a thumb to the butter section.

“Butter believe these prices are getting out of hand.”

Snorting, you roll your eyes.

“Butter believe your puns are getting worse.”

“Butter believe you’ll put up with them anyways,” he shot back.

“Oh, will I?” You lift a brow at him as you settle the eggs in the cart.

“You love them,” he winked at you.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s call it unless you plan on selling a leg at check out.”

Simon follows you to check out, paying despite your instance to split the cost, and takes the bulk of the groceries on the way home.

✮✮✮

Roach wouldn’t mention the bet, which is exactly why Gaz brought it up.

Dropping onto the couch next to Gary who played Tetris on an old gaming console Gaz waited.

When Roach finally lifted a brow Gaz launched into his story.

“Johnny and I have a bet going on how long it is going to take for Ghost to make a move on our little liaison. Want in?”

Switching his console for a phone Gary sent money to Gaz with the note ‘Ghost won’t make a move’.

Staring at the phone Gaz hummed as he mulled over the thought.

“You think she is going to make a move?”

Roach shrugged before signing.

I know Ghost won’t make a move, that man doesn’t move unless he is sure.

“And can’t really be sure of someone’s feelings unless they say. I see your point. Johnny said it would take six months and I said it would take nine and a half months. Anyone else I should ask?” Gaz added Roach’s vote to the note app where he kept a running tally of amounts and guesses.

You ask John yet?

“Should I?” Gaz quirked a brow.

Man’s a gossip.

“I’ll go ask him now then. And this should go without saying but I don’t want to run laps until I vomit so keep this to yourself.”

Roach mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. Gaz pushed on his head as both men laughed.

✮✮✮

When one year slipped by it started to look more and more likely that Roach would be correct.

After the second year tripped into the third everyone got their money back and the bet wasn’t mentioned again.

Everyone watched though, waiting for the seismic shift that would be visible from space.

Instead, the relationship changed by degrees; the frog being boiled when no one was watching.

✮✮✮

Simon poked your skincare bottles from his seat on the toilet. You had been telling him about your day when you stepped into the bathroom not pausing in your story.

Whack.

He glared up at you for smacking his hand.

“Keep touching my shit and I will make you wear it,” you send him a hard side-eyed glare as your fingers work the bubbles of your soap over your face.

Johnny had pissed him off today and the wanker had ducked out before Simon could force him to the training mat for a few rounds. He poked the bottle, the petty need satisfied as the small bottle fell with a sound.

You watch him for the count of seven before turning and rinsing both your hands and your face. Drying both you grab a package from the other side of the sink and bracket one of his knees. Unsure of your plan Simon watches as you peel it open and pull out what looks like a wet wipe. A cloying floral scent fills the room. Even through the mask, the scent is too much, Simon closes his eyes and scrunches his nose. That is when you strike.

A solid grip on his balaclava at the top of his head and one hard tug and his face is free. Exposed. Ugly.

Without a word you set about running the wet wipe over his face as if you hadn’t upended his world. The hand not wiping him holds his chin, tilting him to and fro. The firm pressure keeps him tethered to the reality of the bathroom.

“Damn Si, you need to wash your masks and your face more,” you mutter as you reach for a second wipe.

He searches your face, looking for fear, disgust, hate, anything more than concentration pulling at your brows as you study him.

“Close your eyes, this will take a bit since your eye black is ridiculously hard to get off sometimes.”

He does as requested, savoring the simple touches of your hands. You are gentle around his eyes. Each swipe of your fingers wipes away the darkness from his eyes and a bit from his soul.

Slowly, so slowly he wraps his large hands around your thighs, the give of the flesh before your muscles resistance solid and real under his fingers. He would remember this feeling as he palmed himself late in the night, thinking of you.

His breath caught when your lips brushed the bridge of his nose. Broken so many times it would take a surgeon and a miracle to straighten it out. His father had broken it first; he had been blackout drunk and mean that night. He had been mean every night. His mother set the bone as Simon had cried begging her to leave his father. The other times didn’t matter so much, men who died after they got one shot in.

Leaving his eyes closed Simon soaked up your ministrations, pretending each touch is filled with love and not only companionship.

✮✮✮

It was a known fact around the building that if you couldn’t find Ghost that he would be in the Liaison’s office. Some of the newer recruits whispered they must be together for how often they could be found on late nights sharing a blanket. Each used an armrest as a pillow and would wake the other to stumble home to their shared flat.

A new recruit who went by the name, Stevens, had the gumption, or the ignorance, to ask the liaison in the kitchen, in front of Ghost, if she was dating anyone.

“You got a man, Ms. Liaison?” Stevens swaggered over to the counter where you were preparing your lunch before turning and leaning against it.

You reply without looking up from your sandwich.

“Pretty sure I’ve got fifty-two of them right now.”

He leans into your vision, brow lifted.

“No, like a boyfriend.”

“Oh!” You laugh at your misunderstanding. You had counted the number of men you were in charge of in the group. “No. No boyfriend for me.”

Stevens glanced at Ghost who crumpled his canned drink, fluids spilling over his fist.

“Would you want to hit a pub tonight?”

“Mmm, I’d have to check my schedule to see what time I’m free. Can I get back to you?” You smile up at him. “Where can I find you later?”

Dragging his eyes from the promised death in Ghost’s face he smiled at you.

“I’ll be in the training room about three,” Stevens smiled brightly at you before pushing off the counter and sauntering from the room.

Three o’clock found you nearly getting run over by Stevens as he ran laps around the gym.

He holds onto both your shoulders as he slows down, mumbling breathless apologies.

Ghost’s voice ricochets off the wall behind you as he shouts

“Stevens! Keep running.”

The man winces and pounds his feet against the ground as he rounds the room again.

Understanding washes over you. Simon had seen Stevens ask you to the pub and had taken some kind of offense from it.

Stalking over to Simon you see a wince in his eyes as he catches sight of your face.

Years of living with the man informed your next decision. Reaching up you pinched his bottom lip between two fingers. The soft fabric of his mask did not stop you from pulling down from his towering height to be eye level with you.

Glaring hard into the brown of his irises you raise your voice.

“Stevens, get out of here and be in my office at six.”

Light disappears from behind Simon’s gaze as Stevens scurries from the room.

“He only wants to fuck you.” He struggled to speak around your hold on his lip.

“I’m glad someone wants to, I am really tired of finding orgasms alone in my room.”

Any emotion you could have divined from his face is wiped away at your words.

God if you weren’t so scared of losing the easy connection you had with him you would kiss him right now.

Simon lifts a hand slowly to your hand still holding his lip, pulling it away before gently letting your hand rest at your side. Without a word, he walks away—taking your bleeding heart with him.

✮✮✮

“John?”

He gives a hum of a response, not dragging his eyes away from the dense email on his screen.

“Do you think Simon would get the message that I would like to be more than friends if I climbed into his bed tonight?”

The words before his eyes stop looking like anything he can read.

Slowly lifting his fingers to the bridge of his nose he pinches, hoping to head off a migraine this conversation will most assuredly cause. He had watched the two of you dance around each other for years now. He had hoped that when you took Simon up on his offer of living together that something would have shifted. If anything the two idiots seemed to retreat further into their corners.

“I am not qualified to give you an answer on that.” He ends his sentence with a sigh.

Looking up John is startled to find tears in your eyes. Oh damn. You were serious.

Settling back in his chair John folds his arms across his chest.

“Simon is cautious by nature, approach him like you would a street cat. He trusts you right?”

You shift foot to foot, before nodding once.

“If he were a street cat I could feed him, and give him ear scritches, but he shies away from anything more.”

“Scooping him up and carrying him inside would be the answer now, but Simon has at least three stone on you. Is there something you can do to get him to sit still long enough to have a conversation?”

Whatever skitters through your head is something he doesn’t want to know.

“Yeah, I guess there is something I could do.”

“Alright. Now was there an actual work reason you came to my office?”

“Oh! Yes,” you pass him the file from your hand and launch back into safer topics.

✮✮✮

Stevens appeared in your office at six as requested.

“Why did you invite me out, Stevens?” You swivel side to side in your chair, staring at your keyboard.

“Well, everyone said you were Ghost’s girl, but you wouldn’t have said yes to a date in front of him if you were,” he shrugged as if that logic explained the rift that had opened in your soul.

Sucking in a deep breath and slowly letting it out you feel a plan form in your mind. Your fingers crack when you release them from the tight grip they had on the sleeves of your shirt.

Flicking your gaze up you pin Stevens to the wall with it.

“I am not a girl first off. I am a grown woman. Second, who I am to anyone is my decision to make, not yours. I am rescinding my offer to join you. Now get out of my office and don’t pull shit like this again,” you stand pulling your things together to head to the flat you shared with Simon.

✮✮✮

You found him there, on the couch like his boots had betrayed him and stolen the floor beneath them. One arm thrown over his eyes as his head rested on the back of the couch. Slipping off your shoes and setting down your work bag you walk across the floor, avoiding the creaky spots.

Simon doesn’t say anything when you touch his thigh, but his breathing doesn’t change so you know he is awake.

A singular fortifying breath is all you allow yourself before you set your left knee into the cushion next to his hip and swing your right leg to his other side. When your body moves funny you sit hard on him, hands on his chest for balance.

“Oof.”

Beyond the involuntary sound, Simon remains exactly as before. Sliding a finger below the collar of his shirt you edge up the bottom of his face mask. Your other hand joining in you work it up, gently folding and lifting.

“I thought you were going out with Stevens.” His voice rumbles through you from the bottom up.

“You said he only wanted to sleep with me, so why does it matter?” You keep your tone light, and unassuming as you fold the mask another time, exposing his Adam’s apple. It bobs as you trace a finger over it.

“Why are you here?” The whisper belied the harshness of his words.

“This is my home. Should I go somewhere else?”

The arm not across his eyes shifts, hand settling on the thickness of your hip, holding you in place.

“Home?”

You fold the mask over his lips now, watching as the scar pulls taut at the word.

“Yes. It has my bed, my clothes, the man that I love. What else would I call it but home?”

He stills, a statue of flesh.

“Please,” his voice breaks on the word. “I won’t survive this being a dream.”

The glacial pace lets you see the tears catching in his lower lashes as first one eye and then the other is revealed. His free hand settles on your other hip, the width of his palm firm against you.

He watches you as if a goddess had dropped into his lap, the answer to his prayers.

“Simon.” You cup his cheeks as the ache in your chest escapes in your tone. “Do good things only happen to you in your dreams?”

He closes his eyes tight as if waiting for a blow.

“No, only bad ones do.”

“Let me,” you kiss the bridge of his nose.

“Make this,” trailing kisses down the shape of it.

“The exception,” angling his face up you put your lips on his.

Eternities could have passed in the seconds it takes for him to crumble beneath you, meeting you with the strength of a drowning man.

✮✮✮

Everyone could tell something had shifted. Simon no longer glared at men who talked to their liaison, and you wore a soft smile even focused and ignoring the chaos that drifted past your door.

“I’m proud of you L.T.” Johnny slapped him on the back.

Simon glared at his friend.

“The fuck for?”

Johnny pointed with his chin to where you stood laughing at the punching bag with Gaz.

“Letting yourself be loved.”

Twisting Simon fired off a punch to Johnny’s stomach. The Scot laughed as he danced back, avoiding the hit.

He tsked at Simon, “Careful now or I will have to tell the missus you’re being mean to me.”

Flipping his friend off Simon made his way across the room to you.

Hmm. The missus. That had a nice ring to it.

You relaxed into the hand Simon settled on your back, smiling up at him with a love to eclipse the sun.

He would have never allowed love to grow in him, but it grew around him until a neat little home housed his heart and sheltered it from the storm.

Your place in his home, his bed, his heart told him that however this story ended it would be happier than how it began.

Bonus scene:

Gaz stopped next to Ghost, noticing the hand placement on the lovely little liaison.

“So L.T. she finally make a move on you?”

Ghost glances down at him before fixing his gaze on the distant wall.

“Yes, I did,” you reply.

Cupping his hands around his mouth Gaz yelled to Johnny across the room.

“Looks like Roach won the pot!”

“Canne fookin’ believe it!” The Scottish accent came out thick from the man as he cursed at the floor.

A chill ran up Gaz’s spine as he caught sight of the glower from his lieutenant.

“Give them at least a head start yeah?” You smile up at Ghost.

“Three.”

Gaz takes off running, pulling Johnny along as they tear through the base looking for somewhere to hide from their incensed commanding officer.

“Hey, Simon?”

He turns from glaring out the door his sergeants bolted through to looking at you.

The crook of your finger has him leaning closer until you rub your nose against his.

“Happy hunting.”

He cuffs out a laugh, before bumping your forehead with his own and striding after some men who needed a reminder of what he could do.

Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ao3 author #au #but this time make it happy

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