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other-fandoms-reblogs · 17 hours ago

Text

Worth all the reading

IRL Plug and Play || Poly!141 x Fem!Reader

Summary: Third part of my Search History series (based on Penelope Garcia from Criminal minds) , the dinner party. The culmination of a month of knowing the boy's browser histories. Not much of a summary, it's pretty much dirty from start to finish.

18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Warning: Fem pronouns and genitals, alcohol consumption, alcohol used during sex, porn, emulating porn, group sex, unprotected sex, tagging dub con just to be on the safe side but not really if you read the other parts you get it, Oral (M & F recieiving), fingering, penetration (F receiving) , allusions to penetration (male recieving), inappropriate use of cigar ashes. Genuinely this is just me being gross about these men for almost 12,000 words, proceed with caution. Say it with me one more time- irl this would be workplace harassment and NOT sexy. However, these are fictional war criminals who ARE sexy so we’re forgiving it.

Original Idea First Prev My Masterlist

made a lil header for the first time these are the vibes of reader and 141 :) (not Penelope's psychical description just her vibes)

pssst see how they're all on their mics in the pics?? its cuz your the voice in their ears :)

When you pulled into a parking spot on John Price’s street thirty minutes early, you automatically feel squirmy and a little foolish. Foolish because you’d convinced yourself that you were reading too much into things. So much so, that, somehow, the boys seeking out your porn twin had circled back around to you feeling like the unprofessional one. Squirming because you’d found the video they’d all watched more than once (more than three times) in the last days of their assignment. Barrack’s Bunny Get’s Gang Banged!

(Of course it was a military inspired orgy video, with four men and one woman that looked almost identical to you. Because, JFC, why wouldn’t it be? Was this actress in on the torment? Was she taking requests or was this some sort of cosmic joke where the punchline was your own sexual frustration?)

Ok, how the hell were you not supposed to read into that?

You hadn’t been able to watch it all the way through yet, having to pause and take breaks to calm yourself down. The thumbnail alone of your doppelgänger with four sets of hands and… other extremities... was enough to tempt you put your car back in drive and go back home. Because you weren’t sure you could look any of them in the eyes, and also for the third time in the last hour, you were second guessing your outfit.

Because what the hell does one wear to the porn-party with their boss and superiors? (Ok, maybe you should start by stop calling it the ‘porn-party’, because outside of your own finding in their browser histories, they’d yet to mention any actual porn to you in real life, but what else were you supposed to call this?)

After leaving work, you’d spent a long time debating if you needed to change and, if so, into what, and would it be delusional to put on a matching set? Johnny did say he liked seeing something soft… And were your work clothes too stiff? Was the skirt too presumptuous after that video Kyle liked titled Easy Access ? And was it just you or did your work blouse look slightly too much like the one from the office-scene Price had bookmarked? And why the hell was this all you could think about? Strewing your clothes around your bedroom like a teenager before a party, different combinations and options littering your bed and dresser until you got frustrated with yourself and your closet. With a what the hell moment of ambivalence, you’d settled on something comfortable, but switched into a lacy bralette, lying to yourself that it was more comfortable than the one you’d worn to work, and if the lacy strap happened to coquettishly accent your shoulder when your sweater sleeve slipped down your arm? Well, if it wasn’t a Porn Party, then no one would notice, and if it was, well it’d be sure to draw some appreciative eyes.

Your car was still cranked as you sat slightly down the block from Price’s house in your casual sweater and hidden matching set, anxiously killing time by alternating between tik tok, instagram, tumblr, and oh yes, the Barracks Bunny Gets Gang Banged video that you’d been working through thirty seconds at a time because any longer had your overheating and threatening to leave a snail trail on your upholstery. So enthralled and flustered, you’d barely thought of the fact you were quietly playing porn over your car’s bluetooth system, you’d made it to the official halfway mark, and each time you’d switched out to a different app, the ‘break’ was short lived as you went back for more, one hand white knuckling your steering wheel as if this was a particularly good movie with a plot twist you just couldn’t miss.

So enthralled, that a sudden knocking on your window startled you so bad that you half-tossed-half-dropped your phone with a sound that could only be described as a ’squawk’ as you slammed the mute button to your car’s stereo. It was as you were turning towards the knocker, that you realized you could 100% catch a public indecency charge for this, and somehow were still only half relieved to find Johnny leaning slightly down so he could meet your gaze through your driver-side window. He had his raincoat on, and a lit cigarette pinched between his thumb and pointer as he looked in on you with a cheeky smile and raised brows. When you just stared up at him like a deer in headlights, mentally trying to figure out just how long he’d been there and if from that angle he could’ve seen your screen and how good was the sound proofing on your car…. As you ran those mental calculations, Johnny simply knocked again and this time added a downwards motion with his cigarette, requesting you to roll down the window.

You’d never noticed how slow your windows descended as the two of you held eye contact (awkward on your side, delighted on his), until there was no longer a pane of glass between you. The cool, damp night breeze carried the scent of tobacco and some kind of Old Spice fragrance into your little car as you looked up at the Scotsman. He seem amused, but happy to see you, "Coming?"

Your brain short circuited for a moment. Were you… cumming? You stared at him wide eyed, convinced you’d misheard him.

"What?" Was all you managed to respond with, your brain still trying to scrub filthy, lewd images from between its lobes, like a community service volunteer cleaning graffiti off subway walls. Johnny’s eyebrows only raised higher with his signature, Can’t wait to tell Ghost about this look, as he took another deep puff of his cig.

"Are ye coming inside, hen?" He clarified slowly with that shit eating grin after blowing his smoke away form you- what a gentleman, "Or are’ye planning to sit out here all night?"

"Oh, right." You mumbled, resisting the urge to scrub your hands across your face to physically redirect your thoughts. Instead, you nodded and started gathering your things, "Yeah, yeah, I’m coming inside."

"Good, Si was getting impatient." Johnny grinned, stepping back so you could open your car door after you fished your phone from the passenger floorboards and cut the engine. Si? You hadn’t head that nickname for Ghost before, hell, you still excusively called him Ghost to his face, because you’d not received permission for anything else. Simon was personal, Si… was intimate... He watched you expectantly, snapping you out of your thoughts, and when you only responded in silent confusion, he reached inside the still open vehicle and tapped the buttons, "Window, bonnie, s'raining."

Cheeks heating in mild embarrassment, you quickly cut the battery back on so you roll up the window and then get out. You’d always been a little scatter-brained, prone to being in your own little world, but this was getting excessive. Maybe all the porn really was melting your brain… With the windows up and double checking the car was off, you finally got out of the car. Johnny immediately took the plate of brownies out of your hand in the guise of gentlemanly conduct, but actually snuck one from under the plastic wrap before you could scold him.

"Why so grim? Y’look like yer marching off to war." Johnny seemed pretty pleased with his own little joke, his free arm resting in the small of your back to guide you up Price’s porch step and into the house like you might run off down the street without his guidance. You were considering it anyways.

"I don’t look grim." You shot him a look but didn’t shake off his arm, nor could you prevent the smile that was fighting at the corners of your mouth, snatching the brownies back from him before he could snag another, happy to have something to fidget with as you smoothed the plastic wrap back into place.

"No, you most definitely do not." And there was the other sergeant, Kyle, holding the door open for the two of you. Smiling as charmingly as ever, Kyle was already taking the dish out of your hands only to hand the dessert back to Johnny to carry off somewhere else. Then, he was on you, "Glad you could make it, love. Don’t listen to Soap, you look beautiful.” “Hey! Dinnae say she couldn’t be grim and beautiful.” Soap called back, already on his way deeper into the house.

"Such a shameless flirt." You scoffed just loud enough to drown out Johnny with your own teasing smile, a more usual routine amongst all the overthinking you’d been doing, as Gaz helped you out of your coat. Maybe you were imagining the sensuality, but you were not imagining how his touch lingered, and how his fingers grazed the fabric of your sweater as it was exposed. Hell, he was basically unwrapping your raincoat like it was the gift wrap on a present, "Don’t look half bad yourself, though."

All the boys looked good in their civilian clothes, hell they’d all look good in anything (or nothing… Focus. Focus.). But Kyle? In his stylish and tailored clothes? He always looked he’d walked off a J. Crew magazine cover when he wasn’t on base. His burgundy sweater looked like something you wanted to rub your cheek against, soft and warm and it fit him like a glove. Gaz grinned at your little praise, not speeding up his maddeningly slow pace of peeling off your raincoat and adjusting your hair for you afterwards, which distracted you just enough that you didn’t notice the others watching his little show. One of his lingering fingers seemed to all together abandon it’s mission, instead tracing the arced lace strap of your (meticulously chosen) lace bralette strap that had fallen off your shoulder. You watched Kyle’s finger follow the flowery lace pattern for a moment before fixing back on your shoulder with an audible snap! that made you jump a little from the sting.

This time you did see Johnny’s amused grin and slightly devious eyes as your own went wide and you let out a little yelp, snapping your eyes over your soldier at the sergeant. Gaz was quick to soothe the ouch, humming at you before you could get disgruntled while his warm palm cupped the curve of your shoulder and rubbed the slightly stinging skin softly. And if you were still reading into things (you were) you could swear it was just for him to have a reason to touch you more.

"Sorry, love, had to fix it, was bothering me." Was the only explanation offered for his actions. Once your jacket was off, Gaz hung it on the foyer hooks, it looking comically small and feminine between all four of theirs. You knew your brain was melted from all the porn when the visual immediately reminded you of the stupid video’s thumbnail picuture… the pretty, feminine actress with four huge actors surrounding her… Fortunately, Kyle tugging you further into the house pulled you out of your dirty-thought spiral.

In the kitchen, John Price was waiting, marinating a platter of steaks. You couldn’t help the amused quirk of a smile at seeing the apron tied over his civilian clothes, an unlit cigar in the chest pocket for easy access. The captain smiled first to Gaz with an approving nod, and then to you with a teasing smirk, "Thought you’d sit out in your car all night."

"I’m early." You defended yourself, cheeks now must be permanently stained into a flush with how easily they managed to fluster you. Gaz parked himself right beside you, leaning on the counter but standing so close that his shoulder was slotted slightly behind you, half his chest pressed to your back, distractingly proving your early guess that his sweater was, in fact, very soft. It took the steam out of your vehement defense, "You said, eight. It’s 7:50."

"Yeah, but you’ve been sitting out there since 7:30, love." Kyle chided. You wondered if it was the whiskey he was sipping that gave him the courage to puncuate his teasings with a slight pinch to your hip that made you squirm. His closeness kept you from slipping away as he shifted his attention to his captain, that easy going smile still on his face, "She brought brownies."

"I know. Johnny’s already had two." Price smiled, slathering another steak with marinade and massaging it into the meat with tender but deliberate ministrations of his long fingers that, for a moment, made you jealous of a dead slab of beef. His eyes caught yours staring at his hands, chuckling as he cleared his throat, "We had something else in mind for dessert. Very sweet of you though."

Something Price said made Kyle chuckle like it was some kind of inside joke, his fingers still on your hip, tracing little circles that were almost as distracting as… whatever the hell it was that Price was doing to the steaks.

"Now, go off and relax. I’m about to cut onions and we don’t want to mess up that pretty make up." Price ordered, shooing you off towards his stocked bar cart, before adding quietly enough you thought you might have hallucinated it, "Not yet, anyways."

Later, after you’d been supplied a drink and deposited on the couch with Ghost to watch what you were pretty sure was a rugby match (you were a little distracted by his warm arm draped over your shoulder, fingers tracing the same floral lace Gaz had).

"Gonna have to make some more room, love." Kyle grinned, looking down at you, holding his drink in one hand and one of your brownies in the other. You looked around yourself, already sandwhiched between the armrest of the sofa and Ghost who hadn’t closed his legs even a fraction when Johnny’d led you to the couch originally. Wasn’t much room to make room with.

"Oh, I can just-" you started, standing carefully as to not spill the drink Kyle had made for you. Before you could step away to claim the plush arm chair by the mantle (a safe distance from Simon’s thigh against yours and Kyle’s lingering touches), a strong arm wrapped around your middle and tugged you right back down. Instead of your original seat, however, it was Ghost who had pulled you side saddle into his lap, his other hand steadying the drink in yours. Gaz chuckled, taking the spot you had been sitting in, both men unbothered by your startled yelp.

Despite the fact that Simon had forecully and silently pulled you onto his lap, when you gave him a bewildered look, he seemed not to even notice the fact you were sitting on him, his amber eyes focused on the fame playing even as his finger’s kneaded distracting little circles into the plushest part of your waist, his arm still wrapped around you like you might try and escape. And when you just blinked at him, his only offering was, "Tha’s Price’s chair."

"Ye look comfy." Soap chided as he came around the corner with a beer and a lo-ball glass of some sort of whiskey, beer for himself and the (presumably) bourbon was given to Simon, both however, were offered to Simon, "Crack that for me, Si?"

You watched, wide eyed and enamored, as he lifted his mask over his nose and used his teeth to crack the bottle open before taking a long swig and then handing it back to Johnny in exchange for the whiskey. You had a front row seat to the bob of his Adam’s apple, and the way a scar split the top corner of his lip vertically (you wondered if you would feel the scar if he was kissing you, focus, damnit, focus). Soap noticed your expression and the blush in your cheeks with a twinkle in his eyes, " ’s not nice to stare, bonnie."

You stared a moment longer before forefully shaking yourself out of the stupor and taking a swig of your own drink, thankfully ice cold. The momentary pause allowed you to dip back into your usual well of sarcastic wit, offering the Scot a raised eyebrow, "You’re just jealous I’m not staring at you."

Johnny only shrugged, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa, making his broad chest only seem broader, his grin showing just enough teeth to appear wolfish as his thigh pressed into Ghost’s and therefore the round of your ass, "Aye, maybe I am."

"Ignore him, he’s been watching too much…" Simon started swirling then sipping his bourbon before tugging his mask down again afterwards. You knew the answer to his trail off and your internal body temp went up five degrees, alarm bells ringing in your brain. Johnny elbowed the taller man, so Simon only shrugged and finished lamely with, "stuff."

Porn. He’s been watching a lot of porn. You all have. I know that. You know that. We all know that. You brain chanting in time with those stupid circles he was rubbing on your hip as Johnny took the liberty of adjusting the hair off your shoulder, his voice a challenging chide, "What’s that look for, bonnie? What’d you think he was gonna say?"

Your mouth opened, and then closed, and you were saved from answering by Price coming into the living room, declaring the steaks were marinating so they had a while to just hang out. He gave Kyle a shoulder squeeze in passing, and offered you a warm smile before settling in his chair by the mantle. The chair you’d tried to escape to earlier.

For a get-together planned around watching the game, it occurred to you that not a single eye was on the TV at the moment. Instead, you realized they were all on… you. Price in his chair, smoothing his beard. Simon still had you on his lap, amber eyes carefully scrutinizing your expression as you flicked your eyes over to Gaz, who was watching you- or rather the rise and fall of your chest as he pulled your legs into his lap- with a slightly cocked head, a small smile on his lips. And finally, Johnny, who’d not stopped fidgeting with your hair and the neckline of your sweater.

Once again, you were uncharacteristically at a loss for words, squirming a bit on Simon’s lap as you tried to figure out what to say or if to say anything at all, because all that was coming to mind right now were two options. Are y’all trying to fuck me? and How’s the weather?. Both options made you want to crawl in a hole and stay there.

"You’re quiet tonight, sweet, something on your mind?" Price raised his eyebrows, still smirking, knuckles tapping against the armrest, "Something you wanted to tell the boys, right? What we talked about in my office?"

How were you supposed to broach the topic of their internet history, essentially admit to knowing about your XXX twin, while sitting on your superior's lap, having your hair played with, and your calves massaged through your leggings…

"No, no. Just… enjoying my drink." You muttered, draining the rest of the beverage before leaning over to place the empty glass on the side table, which was a mistake because it just had you practically sprawled over the three men on the couch, "What game are we supposed to be watching tonight?"

"Never mind that, hen." Johnny shrugged, clicking the TV off before tossing the remote to Price, "We’ve been into a… different form of entertainment lately."

Yeah. I know. The problem is that I know. You thought to yourself, now not even able to pretend to watch the screen, forced to focus on all the hands and eyes on you.

"Let’s stop dancing around it." Simon gruffed, resting his head against the back of the couch, his fingers trailing from your hip to the top of your thigh, "She’s not daft."

"Lieutenant Riley, always the subtle one." Gaz rolled his eyes before sliding his eyes over to Price who gave him an affirmative nod, not unlike they would do in the field, and then his eyes were back on you, "So, we know you aren’t blind, love, sure you noticed something going on here."

You weren’t sure if he was talking about what you’d dubbed the porn party or if he was just talking about the general bond between the men that went deeper than just elite squad, so you just nodded, hoping he would proceed with some more context clues… any keep rubbing his thumbs around your calf. It was not helping you focus. Kyle just grinned, his hands gently roaming up your shins to your knees and then back down, "Well, we’ve noticed something, too, love. You."

"Me?" You parroted, half sincere half forced faux shock, that sent you further back into Johnny’s chest, the Scot who was still fiddling with your hair had also pressed his nose into the crown of your hair to smell whatever products you used. "Don’t sound so surprised, bonnie." He murmured into your hair before leaning past you to Simon, planting an open-mouthed,

wet kiss against the larger man’s mask right beside your own face. Your mouth dried out despite just finishing your drink, tongue seeming too big for your mouth, eyes flicking rapidly between them and Gaz. You were beyond flustered, your stomach twisting in a both nerve wracking and enticing way. You didn’t know where to look, or if you should look, or look away. You didn’t want to look away, seeing Soap’s tongue find Simon’s mouth even through the cotton. Did they want the illusion of privacy and if so, how were you supposed to give them that when Simon was half groping you at the same time Johnny was lapping at his tongue

through the balaclava? Johnny slid his eyes to you, barely breaking from Ghost, "S’alright, hen, don’t mind you watching us. After all, s’only fair."

Your eyes widened, owlishly turning to Gaz though Simon kept you from slipping off his lap. Was that them telling you that they knew you knew? Was this some confession about finding your doppelgänger and watching enough of her content to pay off her car? He rolled his eyes at the other sergeant, his easy going smile returning when his eyes came back to you.

"They’re so impatient." He chuckled with a what can you do shrug, as if they’d simply skipped to dessert (innuendo intended) instead of started sloppily making out with you in their lap. He quit massaging at your calves, instead using his middle and pointer fingers to trace patterns (you could swear it was a mimic of the lace pattern he’d traced earlier). Your eyes flicked over to Price, who was still just watching, leaned back in his chair, jutting his chin back to Gaz as if telling you to pay attention. Sheepishly, you turned back to Kyle, "So, we’ve… discovered this person online, and she looks… so much like you. Genuinely, love, it’s uncanny. And there’s this video she made that really caught our attention-"

"She knows the one." "Aye, She’s seen it."

Both Price and Johnny answered at the same time. Price, because you’d brought up the issue to him in his office. And Johnny… had apparently been standing outside your car longer than you thought and could see your screen. Your cheeks had to be glowing by now. Kyle’s smile just grew, flashing perfect white teeth at you as he leaned in closer, "Perfect, then we can skip that explanation. But once we saw it… well, it kind of got under our skin. You’ve gotten under our skin, love."

Johnny and Simon hadn’t stopped though they had shifted and suddenly there lips were back and forth on each other, and also over your neck and shoulders as you tried fervently to keep your eyes on Gaz as he leaned closer, pulling the sleeve of your sweater off your shoulder to expose that lace strap again, "And, judging by how you’ve been acting lately, we’ve gotten under yours too."

"Yeah. Yeah. That’s one way to put it." You admitted in a released breath, eyes flicked down to Simon who’d been kissing and sucking right at the curve of your shoulder for several long seconds, like if he wasn’t already under your skin, he’d supplant himself there personally. Johnny wasn’t going under your clothes, but his hands were tracing the line of your spine, finding the waistband of your leggings, nosing into your hair so he could kiss the shell of your ear. All while Kyle just kept that pretty grin on you, somehow putting you at ease and twisting your nerves even more.

"And, truthfully, we could sit here talking about it all night, Or…" And Kyle Garrick, with that unfairly, stupidly charming smile of his, made a veritable orgy sound as commonplace and sensible as going to the pub afterwork, and you found yourself dumbly nodding along to his easy words before you anxieties, logical and/or otherwise, could convince you that group sex with your coworkers was probably not the most professional way to spend a Friday night. But, damn, the sparkle in those pretty hazel-brown eyes was doing a good job of easing any worries that charming smile had missed…

Price finally spoke up again, but stayed in his chair, "You're nodding, sweet, but we gotta hear it. Out loud. Do you want this?"

When you looked over again, John Price was looking wholly the Captain he was. If you thought he was making a point to manspread in his office earlier in the day, now… Now he was just showing off. He looked like he was posing on a throne, legs spread, elbows resting on the arms of the chair as he settled in, watching the three soldiers and you on the couch. Seemingly completely nonplussed by his subordinate employees’ heavy petting on his couch.

Your internal reflection was swift. You were already getting felt up. If going into the office was going to be awkward on Monday, it was going to be awkward regardless of whether or not you cut it off at groping. You might as well let them relieve the nagging itch in the back of your mind while you were at it. So after another dumb nod, you found your voice again, "Yes. Yes. I want it. Please."

"So polite." Johnny murmured, taking you verbal confirmation as permission to slip his hands underneath your clothes, mapping your bare skin, "And you’ll say something if it’s too much?"

"Yeah, yeah." You nodded fervently, turning your head to try and catch one of their lips, the sweater had been stifling for the past hour, but now it was itching at your feverish skin. Johnny just smiled, helping you out of the thing.

"Good girl." Simon nodded before his amber eyes lit up a bit, "Well, would you look at tha’."

His fingers dipped under the lacy band of the bralette you were wearing. Johnny had already run his hands over the fabric while Kyle just whistled lowly. Price was the one who spoke up about it, "Did you put that on just for us, sweet?"

"Just in… just in case." You nodded in a breath, leaning back into Johnny as he started rolling your leggings down, exposing the complimentary lace waistband of your panties. Another round of appreciative comments and touches, Simon’s teeth nipping at the curve of your neck again.

"Too good to us, love." Gaz shook his head, helping his fellow sergeant get your leggings all the way off and tossing them somewhere out of sight, pressing kisses to the top of your thighs, then your knees, and finally one too the inside of your ankle. " So you suspected all along. How’d you see the video?"

"Go on, sweet, fill him in." Price prompted with that stupid little smirk, the one that tugged the corners of his beard up. The one that made you want to get on your knees and do anything to earn one of those approving nods.

"I-I can see the websites y’all visit." You admitted breathlessly, watching as Kyle kissed his way back up your legs, how those eyes never broke contact with yours, "I have to clear them for security purposes. I’ve.. I’ve seen all the videos y’all’ve been sharing with each other." “

All of them. So

that’s why you’ve been so quiet, bonnie?" Johnny hummed, a smile pressed into the base of your neck, watching Simon nip at your neck, teeth digging in harder every time, making you whimper which seemed to only egg Ghost on.

"Flattered or offended?" Kyle asked, but his smile told you he already knew the answer. Because, with you sprawled over the laps of three men, if you were offended you had a funny way of showing it.

"I should’ve been." You gulped after breaking off Johnny’s lips for a moment, adding on, "Offended."

"But you’re not?" Price prompted, head cocking to the side as he fiddled with lighting his cigar.

No. For better or for worse, this roundabout workplace harassment approach had really worked on you. So you just shook your head, opening your mouth as Simon pulled his mask up and caught your lips, tongue domineering itself into your mouth almost instantly.

"So cooperative, nice change of pace." One of them hummed, but you couldn’t place it, too focussed on the fingers kneading at your inner thighs, slowly working your legs open into a spread so your knee’s were hooked over each side of Simon’s wide spread legs, which exposed the dampened gusset of the deliberately chosen panties.

"All right, deal’s a deal, Garrick," Simon all but growled into your mouth, your eyes fluttering open to see his amber eyes watching Kyle who was smirking like he’d just gotten away with something, "You get first taste. Warm ‘er up for us."

Oh. Oh. Just diving right in. Though Gaz was ever the gentleman, charming through and through.

"May I?" He asked softly, waiting with his fingers hooked in the lacy waistband as he sunk to his knees in front of you. Your breath picked up just from the sight, and it was only Simon holding you to him that kept you from leaning down and catching a kiss from Kyle as well. Since that wasn't an option, you jerked your head in a clumsy nod, punctuating with the cant of your hips towards him that just made him chuckle as your panties were discarded towards the same direction as your pants.

"Please." You whined, the tone making all of the men snap their eyes up to you, the expressions all reading make her do it again. You didn’t even have time to adjust to the cold air on your exposed bits before Gaz’s hot mouth was covering the sensitive flesh, drawing a gasp as you threw yourself back into Simon’s chest. Ghost only hooked his chin over your shoulder, lazily watching as Gaz licked a flat stripe, first dipping into your entrance, teasing a bit as deep as he could get. Your clit got a little attention from his nose bumping it, make you breathe sharp breaths with little clipped moans. But when he withdrew and traced his tongue back up, finding your clit and slipping under the hood, your attempts at demure noises were nixed by a sudden and echoing moan.

"That good? Yeah, Gaz’s pretty skilled with ‘is tongue." Johnny nodded, nuzzling at your other shoulder as he watched on too, palming himself through his jeans, "Meticulous thing he is."

"How’s she taste, sergeant?" Price asked, adjusting himself as well. Kyle surfaced for only a moment, replacing his tongue with his fingers when you whined in disappointment.

"Better than the bloody brownies, that’s for certain." He hummed, his corners of his mouth glistening, eyes flicking up to you as he rested a cheek against the inside of your thigh. You tried to be offended at the diss to your baking skills, but as Kyle dove back in, a skillful swirl and lewd slurp killed any smart comment on your tongue, or rather on his. You weren’t sure if it was even possible to actually decipher, but you were certain he was spelling barrack’s bunny over your clit with his tongue, letter by unraveling letter. All four men seemed to delight in how your breathing sped up, how your head seemed so heavy to hold up that it flopped backwards into Simon’s shoulder. Kyle tolerated your hips rolling twice, but his chivalry ended the third time, reaching up and placing Simon’s hand at your waist to hold you still for him, while his hands kept your thighs from closing around his head. The message was clear. Anything you were getting would come from him and only him. You recalled how so many of his preferred videos revolved around control, pleasure dom, a term you had had to google. All you could do was stare down between your legs and watch him devour you.

"If she tastes half as good as she looks…" Johnny trailed off, catching the corner of your mouth for a short kiss, his fingers tracing the lace pattern right over your perked nipples, at least Simon was lenient enough to let you arch your chest into the touch, "Right treat you are, hen."

Your first climax was a quick thing, a full body clench and vulgar moan clawing its way out of your throat, your thighs trembling around Kyle as he licked and slurped his way through your high, collected anything you put out for him. His movements only slowing when your body relaxed back against Ghost. He gave your pussy a comedically sweet kiss before sitting up, and it was only then that he pulled you down to him for your first real kiss from him. It was tender and sweet, with the appropriate amount of tongue, almost the kind of kiss you’d give on a really good first date, if it wasn’t for the fact you could taste your essence on him, your cum making his lips slippery against yours.

"Called dibs on that weeks ago." He grinned, breaking the kiss to watch his fingers to dip between your legs, collect some more of your wetness and pop it in his mouth, eyes closing like he was savoring a fine wine. You watched him with mouth agape and eyes half lidded, "Alright then, Tav, surprised you held yourself back this long, go on then."

Johnny’s smile was all teeth as he descended upon you, kissing any of your slick off your mouth that Kyle’d left behind like he was getting a sneak preview. Though, for someone so often ridiculed for being impatient, he was anal about this kiss. Making sure to try every angle of his mouth against yours, then repeating his tests with tongue, and then once more splitting your attention with Simon. Ghost played along for a while, letting his sergeant explore your lips and your chest before he nodded down to the floor when Kyle’d been.

"Keep yourself busy, Johnny." Was the clipped order, as he took over kissing you, one large hand splayed along your face to keep you drawn to him, as if you might try to get away. He had nothing to worry about, the whiplash of switching partners and desires had you craving attention anywhere you could find it. You were already putty on his lap with Johnny taking over Kyle’s place between you legs. While it was still overwhelmingly pleasurable, his actions were more sloppy than Kyle’s. His strategy was to barrage your nerves as opposed to Kyle’s precision attacks. It still had you whining and squirming, which was enough to short circuit your focus. Johnny didn’t seem to mind you instinctively grinding into his face, in fact it only seemed to encourage him. Simon’s job was to keep you from melting off his lap, which he did while his kisses became harder and harder, sometimes biting at your bottom lip, "Now you just taste like his shitty beer, you’ll lemme fix that, won’t you, lovie?"

When you nodded, he smiled, tugging the balaclava all the way off. You didn’t even have time to properly admire how handsome he was under the thing, didn’t have time to pepper those scars with kisses or wax poetic about how all his unconventional features played together harmoniously to make him exceedingly handsome. Before you could do any of that, he’d taken a sip of his bourbon, swallowing as he watched you watch him.

"Open." He directed, nodding when you obediently dropped your mouth open. He tipped your head back at the same time as he took a longer draw of his bourbon, holding it in his mouth for a moment before pulling your lips up to his and kissing the liquor straight onto your tongue, burning off anything and anyone else. When he’d given you every last drop, he pulled back and manually shut your mouth, "Go on and swallow for me, don’t waste it. ’s hard to get this stuff ‘round here."

Bourbon wasn’t often in your rotation for drinks, the taste smoky and sharp just like the man that had kissed it into your mouth, but one look into Simon’s eyes had you nodding again. As you forced yourself to swallow it, the burn going all the way into stomach, stoking the fires the men had started in you. After he watched your throat bob, he nodded approvingly.

"Good fuckin’ girl." He praised which made the burning sting worth it, catching your lips in another punishing kiss when you moaned from Johnny’s sloppy slurping. Simon hummed, finding that your mouth now tasted like his preferred pour, "Much better."

After kissing the taste of his bourbon off you, he pulled back for a moment just to watch you whine and grind against the sergeant between both sets of your legs. After a moment of appreciation for the garment against your skin, the bralette they’d all liked so much was roughly yanked down, the straps down your shoulders while the cups and band bunched up under your now exposed breasts. Johnny was watching from the floor, his big blue eyes crinkling and lips pulling into a smile against you, while Simon ran his hands over your bare chest, stopping to squeeze and pinch when he pleased. “Johnny-

Ghost-" You almost shrieked not sure who to call too or thank for the electric static in your nervous system, arching your chest up into his hands, and when the movement moved your hips away from Johnny, he just took your legs off Simon’s knees and hooked them over his shoulders, keeping you firmly in place, "

Shit."

"Language, sweet." Price teasingly scolded from his chair, still stroking his beard from his arm chair. Gaz and Simon just chuckled when you pouted through another throaty moan. Simon was nudging your cheek with his nose, skimming his teeth across you jawline between kisses that trailed fown your neck, sucking marks that would stay for weeks, always finding his way back to what seemed to be his favorite spot in the curve of your neck. “Should’ve seen the Sergeants when they first found that video, acting like they’d won the fuckin' lottery. Been wanting you for months but tha’ really sealed the deal, lovie, couldn’t even get through the first quarter before this one was panting and rutting. Like it was the first time they’d ever seen a dirty video. Ain’t that right, Johny?” It was the most you’d ever heard Simon talk in one go, every couple of words grunted and groaned out between kisses across any skin he could reach with you sitting back against him, breath hotly fanning along your neck as he went. And when he finished the thought, he reached down between your legs and fished the sergeant up by his mohawk, leaving both you and Johnny whine at the loss of contact. Simon just laughed coldly and gave Johnny a prompting jerk, much rougher than he’d been touching you, “You gonna answer us, Johnny?” “Aye. Aye. Knew I had to get ma’ hands on ye.” Was all he managed before diving in for another taste of you, surfacing briefly again to relay a message up to Simon, half moaned half growled,

"This cunt's like fucking silk, I’ll tell you, Lt.” Strong hands clenching into the plushest parts your thighs holding them around his face like he was

hoping he’d suffocate down there, "Ye gotta get in here, ain’t nothing like it."

"You want that, sweetheart?" Simon hummed, moving from your lips to your jaw and down your neck, "Want me in you?"

"Fuck. Yes, fuck me." You rambled which just made them chuckle at you as one of your hands when into Johnny’s mohawk and the other palmed at your breasts. Johnny moaned when you tugged at his hair, sending subtle vibrations up with his tongue that almost sent you undone again. Simon easily pushed you down his legs, still supporting you with one hand as Johnny kept going, and freeing his erection with the other. Gaz and Johnny had worked hard to warm you up, to break you in for them, but Simon’s dick threatened to break you, period. He was just as thick as John, but almost as long as Kyle, cut, veiny, with a pretty pink tip. Como se dice, how you say… hung like a fucking horse.

He must’ve seen your wide eyes, the subtle fear in your eyes that was chased away when Johnny drug his teeth over your clit with just enough pressure to make you choke on your own spit. Ghost reached down intermingling his fingers with your folds and Johnny’s tongue, "We’ll start easy. Just the tip, lovie. Johnny’ll handle the rest for now."

They did just that. He held his hand out to Johnny, letting the man on his knees spit into his palm and then rubbed it against his dick, before pulling you back against him once more. Before he even attempted any sort of penetration, he slid his erection through your folds a couple of times just to collect some more slick, "You are just like silk, Johnny was right."

He grunted into your neck with another few slippery passes before reaching down as easing the tip into you. He was thick, enough so that it stung a bit as you tried to adjust. Despite his soft voice and unusually soft eyes, Simon’s control slipped, rutting a bit before you were ready. At you uncomfortable whine, Johnny mirrored the sound in disapproval of your upset, immediately going to remedy the hurt with his tongue, servicing both you and Simon with a flat lick up Simon’s exposed length and then up to your clit to help you relax.

"Breathe for me, lovie." The Liutenant ordered, like he was trying to be gentle with you but his jaw was gritted, trying even harder not to snap his hips against yours and bully his too-big dick into your hole, "Try to relax for me."

You were panting, cheeks puffing with your breaths, not sure if Johnny’s tongue was helping or just tensing you up more, but God, it felt good and you weren’t going to be the one to tell him to stop. Not yet at least. You got another inch in, which earned a kiss to your neck.

" s’all I can take right now." You breathed, reaching back to support yourself against him.

"Better than I did on my first go, eh, LT?" Johnny grinned up before kissing up the length of Simon’s cock that wasn't inside of you, flicking his tongue over the stretched rim of your entrance that was still trying to clench around the sudden intrusion, "She’s tryin’ so hard."

By the look in his eyes, he wasn’t talking about you. The She in question was just your pussy. Simon nodded along, hissing curses into your hair.

"Alright, lovie, alright, no more for now." He gritted out, " ‘m gonna move now, just try and stay loose as you can for me."

Humming in agreement, you tried to let yourself be pliant against him, feeling his hips rock, the in and out of his movements pleasurable enough to draw out a keening moan despite the less than comfortable stretch. His lips were at your neck again as he continued his thrusts, slightly steadier, growing more confident. And then it was his teeth, nipping between sucks, though his words were still growled, "That’s it, doing so good for me, for us."

Your mistake was losing yourself in the feeling, letting your hips rock because it shattered what little control Ghost had at the moment. He sunk in another few inches, teetering between painful and pleasurable, making you cry out, nails digging into his forearms as a tear slipped down your cheek. The dig of your nails only urged him on, the nip of your teeth turning into a full bite, enough to break skin just slightly. However, the moment your cry was one of actual discomfort instead of pleasure, he withdrew completely, kissing over where he’d bitten, "Sorry, sorry, lovie, got too rough, too quick with you."

He slowly eased you off of him, nudging Johnny off as well, still kissing at the spot he’d bitten too harshly, fingers kneading comfort into your hips and then your thigh, "Y'alright? Need to stop?"

You took a breath, let the initial shock of the stretch and the bite fade away, let him swipe the rogue tear off your cheek, let your body readjust…. and then shook your head, signalling you wanted to keep going, pulling him by the back of the neck down to you again for a kiss. Johnny was still at your knees, massaging your thighs, watching Simon deepen the kiss as much as you’d let him, and then pushing a little further, his fingers flexing hard into you again making you wince just a little. Honestly, you could’ve endured that, hell with another couple of kisses, you could’ve enjoyed it. But this time, he cut himself off, pulling back with a slew of curses that’d send a sailor to confession.

"Fuck, ‘m sorry, sweetheart, I’ve never been good at taking it slow." Simon growled, jaw still clenched so hard you were afraid he’d crack a tooth., thumbs easing the irritated skin he’d clenched just slightly too hard, "You’re just too perfect, can’t keep my head on straight."

Ghost stopped to think for a moment, breathing hot and heaving against you skin, before flicking his eyes down to Soap who’d stopped massaging your thighs in favor of featherlight kisses where his stubble had chafed you. You’d seen this before, the internet called it cuteness aggression.

"Price." He called, nodding to his Captain, a signal to take over. John nodded, and after meeting your still lust glazed expression, ascertaining you were alright, seemed rather amused by the tag-in. It seemed, despite the civilian clothes and whatever intimacy was shared amongst the group, rank hierarchy was still firmly present, because when Captain Price finally rose from his arm chair, the sergeants and Lieutenant wordlessly moved out of his way, presenting you along the way for him as his belt buckle jingled being loosened and discarded.

Still, despite his evident imposition, his strength was gentle as he peeled you off his lieutenant who stood, manhandling Johnny off with him to the chair. Half dazed and panting, you were grateful for his patience as he asked with only a little teasing, "Can you stand for me, Sweet, just a little?"

And when your legs were still jelly and trembling, he just chuckled, leaking cigar smoke into your mussed hair, "That’s alright, Sweet, you just let me lay you out all pretty."

With that, you were bent over the arm of your boss’s sofa, callous hands traced slowly down your spine and then paused at your hips, massaging your flanks much as he had his cuts of steak. Price massaged his way from your hips, over and around your ass, and then worked from outwards to the inner most part of your thighs. Finally, he dragged a flat palm up your exposed sex, and when you looked over your shoulder, he was licking his tongue across that same hand, a deep rumbling growl shaking you to your core as you watched him taste not only you, but also notes of his boys, "Sweeter than fuckin’ sugar, love. Fuckin’ perfect."

You just stared at him with wide eyes, limply spread over the arm rest, hips instinctively pressing back into him to find more touch, more friction, more him. Words failed, only high pitched whines made it out. Which made Johnny, off to the side, chuckle.

"Think this is the longest I’ve ever seen her quiet." The scot chided, watching with great interest as Price took another swipe through your folds, coating his cock in whatever (whoever’s) bodily fluids he collected there.

"Maybe you should take some notes, mutt." Simon gruffed, taking a fistful of the sergeant’s Mohawk and tugging it rather harshly backwards, exposing Johnny’s throat that his teeth descended upon almost immediately. Some time between being between our legs and being in Simon’s lap, Johnny’s shirt had disappeared, his jeans still on but unbuckled and Simon was fishing his erection out.

"Ignore ‘em." Price chuckled down to you, physically redirecting your attention by giving your clit a bit of attention as he eased himself slowly in, all the way to his base, "Y’feel even better than you taste, sweet thing, y’know that?"

You didn’t know that, but you’d take the compliment, if you remembered it, or your own name by the end of… whatever this was. He gave one slow and steady thrust, almost like an experiment, one hand holding your hips in place, the other holding his cigar up to his lips.

"Dessert before dinner, how about that, lads?"

There was a moment of recall to his earlier words, "Already had something else in mind for dessert" echoed with what he just said in your fuzzy mind. You had been dessert all along, and judging by the ravenous eyes with varying degrees of satiation, the 141 intended to eat their fill, your online look-a-like was simply a taste test. A momentary taste of vindication on your tongue- you hadn’t been reading too far into things or fluffing your own ego, this was premeditated, and your matching set wasn’t presumptuous. Still, that only lasted a singular breath, the smug vindication was phsycially forced out of you with a rough snap of his hips, the first of many from the demanding, almost brutal, pace John set for himself.

"There’s a girl, you just take it for me," He grunted between thrusts, seemingly pleased with your little cries and moans, "Just like that, sweet, you’ll be taking Simon’s cock in no time."

John Price’s couch was not picked out with ‘being bent over the side’ in mind. Or perhaps, you were just a bit softer than the other’s that had had the pleasure of being bent over the arm like John had you at that moment. Taking mercy upon your ribs, or perhaps just for his own selfish purposes, Kyle slotted himself underneath your front and sat you up against his chest, throwing your arms over his shoulders. While John still had your hips over the couch arm, Gaz had pulled you chest up to his, his lips finding your lips, your cheek, jaw, and breasts as he went.

"Poor sweet thing" Kyle cooed, his perfect pearly teeth nipping at your ear while is chest steadied you against Price’s onslaught that pushed a thought our of your mind with each quick, but deep, thrust, "Didn’t know what you were walking into, did you? And now look at what a mess we made you?"

You couldn’t tell if Kyle was mocking you or praising you, kind words and little digs were both dipped in that sugary sweet tone that just made you nod up at him with wide eyes and a pouted lip. One of this thumbs reached up and swiped a mascara laden tear out from under your eye, the same thumb dipping into your mouth and holding it open in the pornographic O-shape after Price drew a vulgar moan out with a particularly deep thrust that also managed to scoot the sofa a couple of inches. Gaz didn’t even waver, just laughed a bit as he held you steady, "Mean, innit he?"

Another moan blocked the chance at a snappy reply, not that you had the current brain power to make one. The sergeant just took the chance to swallow your noises with his mouth over yours, kissing you and biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. With what little fortitude you had, you grabbed the collar of that soft sweater and hauled him right back up to your mouth. It was aggressive kissing. Tongue and teeth and nails, sloppy and dirty, your noses bumping together from the force of Price’s thrusting.

When Price adjusted your hips, it forced you onto your tip toes to maintain the angle. And while the new angle provided incentive and reward in the way of relentless pounding of that delicious spongy spot inside you, that fact only made it harder for your already shaking legs to support you.

"Hold her fast, Sergeant." Was the grunted order as he gave your ass a smack, like he was punishing you for the indiscretion of already having you legs fucked out from under your from the other men in his living room. Honestly, How dare you? Kyle took orders beautifully. The best multitasker on the squad, as he not only, held you at that perfect angle for his Captain, but also, trailed wet, hot kisses down to your chest, locking onto one of your nipples with devious precision, only sucking harder when you cried out.

" ‘m gonna cum-!" It was strangled and whined into Kyle’s shoulder still fisting the collar of his shirt while your other hand posed serious risk of shredding the upholstery.

"You gonna cum on me, sweet? Go ahead, but I’m not stopping." Price chuckled through his warning, leaning over your head and pulling Gaz in by the back of his neck for a sloppy kiss of his own.

"Go on then. Give it to him." Kule urged in that sickly sweet tone, "The captain’s working so hard back there for you, least you could do is let ‘im feel how pretty you fall apart."

Another moan, a garbled cry of both of their names mashed together when they pushed you over the edge in tandem with a well timed deep thrust and light smack to your clit from Price at the same time that Gaz tweaked both of your nipples..

"You feel that Cap? That flutter?" Gaz called, talking (literally) over your head as you sagged, twitching against him, unlatching from the hickey he was sucking into your collarbone, "That’s fuckin’ magic, that is."

"Flutter? She’s wringing me dry in there." Price groaned, his pace only slowed by the vice like grip your core had as your eyes rolled back, "Sweet’s cunt’s practically swallowing me, bloody hell, greedy thing, aren’t you?"

The only reprieve you had was Price leaning forward so his warm chest pressed to your back, his big hands circling your clit like it might encourage you loosen back up for him so he could resume his movements, "C’mon, love, you gonna answer me?"

"Yes…" You drawled, flopping your head over so you could meet his eyes over your shoulder, that signature mirthful smile twitching the corners of his beard of as he tweaked the little bundle of nerves to correct you. With a little cry, you answered once more, "Yes, sir."

"Atta girl." Price nodded approvingly as he took a long draw of his cigar his pinkie shaking off little bits of ash onto your raised posterior (which should’ve made you feel degraded, or maybe it did which is why it made your eyes flutter again), both at the answer and at the relaxing of your muscles allowing him to build his pace back up.

"Hear that, love?" Kyle’s attention returned down to you when your face dropped back down into the curve of his shoulder, "what a good pussy, taking us all so well, and she just keeps wanting more."

"More?" You croaked out through another moan, panting and trying to count the stars dotting your vision, not sure if you were requesting or parroting in disbelief. Though with a clearer mind, you wouldn’t have been so shocked. Price had barely stuttered in getting his rhythm back up to it’s pace, riding you all the way through your orgasm.

"Told you, ‘m not fucking stopping." Price growled with another smack to the round of your ass. Something between a moan and a cry crawled out of your throat, but tapping our hadn’t once occurred to you.

"You can take it, love, bet you can even give us another big finish, yeah?" Kyle encouraged. It occurred to you the Gaz had now coaxed you through two orgasms, and really hadn’t even asked for anything in return from you. And while you were sure, between the four of you, someone would throw him a bone(r), you decided to take that cross upon yourself, reaching down between him and yourself and wrapping around his dick. From what you could tell, he was on the leaner side, but he was the longest in the group, slightly curved. Which gave you plenty of room to rub and squeeze, from base to his tip where you thumbed the slit, spreading the precum back down as you followed the vein on the underside. Kyle tried to chuckle through a moan, "Bloody hell, love."

Jerking off took on a new meaning as your movements, meant to be languid and smooth, turned jerky and choppy with the force of Price’s increasing speed, his rythym stuttering as he chased his own release. Kyle leaned down using one of his free hands to roll a nipple in his fingers, catching the other in his mouth as you continued to pump him. Between the two of them, it didn’t take long to come close to the edge once more, and you didn’t even have time to be proud of bring both of them over with you in tandem as your third orgasm tore through you, leaving all three of you dazed and breathless. You were vaguely aware of Gaz’s cum on you chest, kind of feeling the warm, sticky trail it left as it leaked down your front while John gave a few more lazy strokes as he softened inside of you. Though Gaz twitched hard again just watching your eyes roll back, and when Price was finally done, he gave your thighs a gentle, almost proud squeeze, watching his spend leak out for a moment before gently collecting you upright once more. With a sweet forehead kiss that contrasted so heavily from the cigar ashes and ass slaps, he gave your cheek a little pat, "Still with me, sweet?"

"Mmmhm." You nodded, eyes only half opned as Gaz sat up behind you and sucked kisses across the back of your shoulders. You’d be wearing turtle necks for weeks. John’s attention shifted over to Simon, who you now realized had been watching the show with the darkest eyes you’d ever seen with poor Johnny taking the brunt of whatever storm Ghost had brewing. Your eyes fluttered watching the liutenant’s hand tighten around Johnny’s throat. Despite the tears on the Scot’s face, he didn’t appear to be too upset with his current predicament, in fact giving you a groan through a watery smile as Simon’s other hand tightened even more around Johnny’s leaking dick.

"Got it all out of your system, Lieutenant?" Price asked with a raised brow, both him and Gaz still keeping you upright with gently roaming hands. Simon gave both his hands another squeeze making Johnny pant.

"I’m solid." He nodded, surprisingly tender as he released Johnny, the sergeant stumbling off his lap. Simon rose behind him, both men approaching the couch. You weren’t positive what ‘it’ was or why it needed to be out of Simon’s system, but Gaz nodded and pressed one last sweet kiss to the curve of you shoulder before letting Simon slide into his place. The largest of the men simply laid down on the couch, taking up most of the three-seater, efficently pulling you backwards so you straddled his lap facing away from him.

"Nice and slow for me, lovie." Simon directed, lining himself up with your entrance after bumping your clit with his tip. Thank god for his strong hands guiding your hips down at the pace he set. Though Price had thoroughly broken you in, and you’d already partially taken Simon once, you still tensed up nervously but set your jaw with determination to do it again and get all of it from this new angle. With your back to his face, you had a front row set to the others watching hungrily. Kyle was leaning back against Price’s chest, the older man reaching around to palm the sergeant’s erection as Gaz pressed his back to Price’s front, grinding backwards. But Johnny, poor Johnny, with his cock almost purpled by Simon’s earlier teasing, rocking on his heels like he was just waiting for permission to join in, sapphire eyes bouncing between Simon’s face, your face, and the stretch of you pussy around Simon’s cock- like he couldn’t decide who was most jealous of.

Inch after deliciously painful inch, Simon helped you ease yourself down until your ass was flush with his hips. From this angle, though Simon could still rut up against you, the pace was all your decision, making it harder for him to lose control again. With your hands braced against his tree-trunk thighs. Simon gave you a minute to adjust, to pant and try to focus your eyes. The soldier underneath you grunted, fingers flexing on your waist as he adjusted himself making you whimper and almost fall forward.

"Si-" Johnny whined, his hands twitching forward like he wanted to help you, or maybe just touch you, his cock leaking down his leg. Simon’s voice was not as gentle to his sergeant, a gruff order.

"No’ yet." Before returning his attention to you, voice softening slightly, "Take your time, sweetheart, move when you want, I want you to feel good."

Giving a jerky nod, you gave an experimental wiggle that nestled him somehow even deeper. Your moan was lodged in your throat as your eyes shut, but the movement earned a deep groan and hiss from Simon. With a deep breath, you managed to move past the acclimation stage so the actual pleasure started building again, which felt like crossing the finish line of a marathon. Next, a roll of your hips that genuinely blurred out your vision, feeling so good that our body instinctively did it again to chase the feeling. And then again, and again- head falling forward and then rolling back.

"That’s it, lovie, find your rhythm." Simon tried to prain but it sounded more like a growl as his hands flexed again into the softest parts of your waist, his long fingers spanning so far that they kneaded into the plushness of your stomach, "Fuckin' hell."

"Si-" Johnny whined again, drawing the clipped nickname into two syllables, this time his twitching fingers finding purchase in the arm of the sofa you’d been bent over earlier. If you weren’t so focused on Simon’s cock rearranging your internal organs, you might’ve heard the ominous creak of the fabric under his strength. When your eyes fluttered open, they locked onto Johnny’s bright blues, darkened to a stormy hue with impatient want. His Scottish brogue thickening deeply, "Ah keened you’d be better than the lass in the fuckin’ videos, so fuckin’ sweet and pretty-"

"Alright." Simon gruffed before his voice softened down again, "Go on, sweetheart, show the mutt some love, won’t you? He won’t shut up until you do."

Even though the permission had been given to you, Johnny was immediately upon you. Much like Gaz, Johnny took up the job of supporting your upper body as Simon had your hips firmly in his grasp. With one knee pressed into the couch cushion, he hugged your chest to his, his hands groping and feel any part of you he could get his hands on like it was the first time he’d touched you or any other soft and pretty thing. Unlike Gaz, his mouth on your started out aggressive and when you would moan, he’d mirror the noises, groaning them right back onto your tongue.

"And soft. Ye sound better too." Johnny groaned when Simon suddenly rutted against your rocking, leaving you crying out and digging your nails into Johnny’s shoulders. With strong but surprisingly gentle grip, your fingers were removed from his shoulders. Johnny led one of your hands in an exploratory trail down his chest, following the path of thick, dark body hair, past his abs, until he wrapped your hand around his cock which twitched even at your slightest touch.

"So fucking soft, bonnie," he breathed, coaxing your hand into movement while kissing your other palm, before looking over to Simon, "Not a callous on her hands, Lt, dinnae even think about that."

Simon merely grunted in acknowledgement of Johnny’s discovery, seeing as his focus was an entirely different part of your anatomy. The larger man seemed content letting his sergeant be the vocal one, sometimes rewarding you with a hiss or a strangled groan. He’d given up on letting you control the pace now that you were acclimated and half bouncing against him, rutting and grinding against you in time with your own rolling and rocking as you sped up. It was only natural for your hand on Johnny’s cock to speed up as well.

"Sweetheart, why don’t you show him something even softer than your hands? He went through a lot for you, after all." He didn’t give you time to ask what that was supposed to mean, but you figured it had something to do the vicious series of bites and hickies on the man’s neck. You could tell Simon was moving because his cock was shifting angle inside of you, making you gasp. One of his large hands splayed against the small of your back, pressing you firmly forward and down. A sudden thrust as he applied pressure to your back made you go boneless, letting the men push your cheek first into Johnny’s stomach and then down to where your hand was still pumping Johnny’s cock.

"Look at that, a multitasker. ’s why she’s such a good analyst for us." Gaz chided from the sidelines like he was commentating on a sports match, watching as you were stroking Johnny, holding your cheek against him while trying to catch your breath from Simon’s thrusts. Johnny helped guide himself into your mouth. It wasn’t so much length as the girth, even thicker than Price, that stretched your jaw uncomfortably. But the way that Johnny moaned sinfully above you when your nose pressed into the dark curls at his base, the way he all but melted over you like butter, encouraged to breathe through your nose and keep going.

"Steaming Jesus, Si, I cannae last like this-" Johnny moaned, seemingly not even noticing how loud he was. Simon only laughed lowly, reaching around your thighs to dip between them, circling your clit. Your thighs were trembling, moans getting louder and less restrained, nothing about this was restrained anymore.

"That’s alright, Johnny, neither will she, will you, lovie?" He asked with another deep thrust, "feel ��ow she’s shaking?"

You were shaking your head still with a mouthful of Johnny’s cock, because you weren’t going to last much longer, eyes rolling and fluttering, landing on the arm chair again where Gaz being treated as well, both him and John watching appreciatevly as Ghost and Soap had you in lopsided Eiffel tower. You were pulling out any trick for Johnny that you managed to remember between Simon’s thrusts, swirling tongue and bobbing heads. But what did him in was actually Simon’s doing. When Simon rolled his hips into you just right, hitting every good spot and giving your clit a swipe, your eyes crossed and you moaned, practically screaming around Johnny’s member, the vibrations and look on your face enough to finish him. His hand tightened in your hair, hips snapping, pushing your nose into his pelvis, and holding you there as he came with what some might call a battle cry. After everything Simon had put him through earlier, he was pent up, leaving him cumming. and cumming, and cumming, until you had to swat at his thigh because you couldn’t take anymore.

You swallowed what you could, taking a couple more spurts to your face and chest before Johnny crumbled onto the couch against you, kissing the taste of himself right off your tongue as Simon continued his thrusts, getting incrementally faster and harder as you proved you could handle it. The scot took over the praising and encouragement as his superior fell back into the quiet grunting and groaning against you, though you could barely make out any of the words as you approached your fourth finish. For the first time in your life you understood the phrase "fucked stupid". You were somewhat sure you were rambling gibberish accolades to the men, cries of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ’thank you’ intermingled with moans and curses that put your over the top XXX twin’s to shame.

"C’mon, sweetheart, one more f’ me." Simon growled out, switching positions so quickly and effeciently that you didn’t even realize it until you body was pressed face down into the couch cushion, Simon still behind you, drilling into you with a pace that put mechanized machinery to shame. You weren’t even sure how you were taking it just that you were and if he stopped you might start crying, "I know you’re close, just lemme have it-"

Johnny was back on his knees in front of the couch, catching your nipple in his mouth. And you turned your head towards John and Kyle, locked in their own encounter, and then it just snapped. Your orgasm not just washing over you, but a tidal wave crashing over you and frying every nerve a long the way. For a moment your vision whited out, the only thing you were aware of was Simon’s strokes slowing and working you through it. With your body practically vibrating with overstimulation, you let your unseeing eyes roam to to the cieling fan and let your mind wander as you floated somewhere above reality for a bit, enjoying the electric feelings between each neuron firing. Every noise and sight becoming background information as overstimulation fuzzed it all out except the aftershocks and twinges in your core.

You weren’t sure how long it was before you came back to yourself, but you heard Johnny’s voice first, "C’mon, bonnie, float back down to us."

"There she is." Kyle cooed in tandem with the other sergeant while your cheek, "Lost you for a bit there. Alright?"

You were more than alright, body more sated than it’d been in years, still thrumming and twitching with the aftershocks, so you just nodded slowly, trying to focus your eyes in on one thing at a time, voice slightly slurred with nothing to do with the drinks, " ‘m alright."

"Was worried I broke you." That was Simon, who’s lap your head was in. You only offered a dopey smile and a lazily blink.

"You might’ve, but I’m ok, more than ok." You sighed with a dry laugh, turning your head so your cheek pressed to his thigh, though you noticed he’d slipped his sweats back on.

"Si’s gotta work on being gentle, we don’t make him practice enough." Johnny teased, running soothing hands along your sides. Suddenly, a cup of water with a straw was placed in front of your face, and when you looked up it was Price holding it down to you before Kyle took it and held it steady for you.

"Never see you complaining about it, McTavish." John teased right back, trading off the cup so he could smooth hair off your sweaty forehead, "Take as long as you need, sweet, y’did good for us. So good."

His praise nestled deeply, right between your ribs, making you smile softly as Kyle coaxed the straw into your mouth, letting you sip on the water as he ran a caring thumb over the apple of your cheek.

—

You must’ve dozed off, because when you woke up, you were still on the couch, but everyone else had moved around you liked you simply always been nestled amongst them. The thought made your lips curl in a dopey grin as you looked around them. Half upright and wrapped in someone’s hoodie, you were laying against Price’s chest, head tipped back into his shoulder as he worked around a plate filled for two, the atmosphere was cozy now, the electric frantic tension from earlier had morphed into something warm and intimate.

“Evening. Hungry?” His chest rumbled as he held the plate closer to your field of view. Two very juicy ribeyes, baked potatoes, green vegetable- the stereotypical macho man plate. John seemed all too proud of himself when you opened your mouth to accept a fork of perfectly cut bite-size steak, laughing when you hummed in approval, “There we go, sweet, worked up an appetite, yeah?”

“Really? Thought we already stuffed ‘er pretty good.” Kyle teased, still gently swiping warm rags over your body, wiping away any evidence that wasn’t etched or sucked semipermanently into your skin, occasionally following his ministrations with gentle kisses and soft praises, “Feel ok, love? Need anything?”

When you shook your head, gently squeezing his wrist in gratitude, he only smiled, giving you a tender kiss to the forehead before retrieving his own plate and sitting on the opposite side of Price, claiming the captain’s other shoulder for his own head.

Johnny was in the same boat as you, though whatever the hell Simon had done to him made his attention to you look like princess treatment, having obviously reigned himself in with you. Was that what Ghost was getting out of his system before coming back to you? Still, the scot didn’t seem to have many complaints after Simon sat him down between your legs on the couch, letting the sergeant lay facedown against the softest part of your stomach, where he’d nuzzled the hoodie out of the way so he could rest against your bare skin. It was then you noticed that you and Johnny were the only ones still in a state of undress which if your mind wasn’t moving at a snail’s pace, you might’ve tried to read into.

Like you, he seemed half asleep and fucked out, a couple more bites around his neck that hadn’t been there the last time he’d been touching you. Soap’s mohawk gave you something to gently fidget with as Price nudged another bite against your lips. Simon took his seat on the floor, leaned back against the base of the couch with his head tipped back against the curve of your hip. One of his arms wrapped around the leg that Johnny had dangling off the couch, massaging gentle circles into the mans calf muscle. His other other arm was propped on his knee so he could catch your wrist where it flopped down on his shoulder. He was tender as he ran his ungloved hand over yours, massaging your fingers and comparing them to his much larger hands, murmuring himself, “No callouses.”

“Told you, Si.” Johnny sighed almost dreamily into your bare stomach, leaning into your fingers in his hair. With the rest of the men doting on you and Johnny, Simon didn’t even retaliate or tease something back, just snickering quietly and fondly, offering straw topped water bottle to the sergeant.

Another bite of food was offered to you, along with water, and something struck you funny, drawing a quiet chuckle out of you as you turned your face into Price’s neck to stifle the noise. It drew the group’s eyes, clearly waiting for you to divulge. “C’mon, hen, share with the class.” Johnny prompted with grin, always down for a laugh, propping his chin up on your belly so he could look at you through the valley of your cleavage, eyes shining like you’d hung the moon.

“What’s on that pretty mind of yours?” Price rose his eyebrows, cutting another bite of meat for you.

“Nothing, it’s dumb.” You snicker a little more, earning a expectant but amiable tug to your fingers from Simon, “It’s just all a little backwards, s’all.”

“Backwards?” The liutenant parroted in that deep Manc accent, making you giggle a bit more, nodding against Price.

“I let y’all fuck me every which way from Tuesday, and you didn’t even buy me dinner first.” You mused, ironically before taking another bite of one of the best steaks you’d ever had, which could be an effect of the post-sex endorphin rush, or maybe John was just a grill master. “Our apologies, sweet thing.” John rolled his eyes playfully, his apology deeply sarcastic as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“In our defense, dinner and a very nice bottle of wine were on the agenda before, but some people,” Gaz’s eyes flicked over to Johnny and Simon who didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Simon was stone faced as usual, still playing with and kissing at your fingers while Johnny just smiled into your belly, “got impatient.”

“Hey, the first time Simon fucked me all I got was the drink mix and wet nap from his MRE.” Johnny whined which only made you laugh harder.

“Y’didn’t ask for anything else.” Simon shrugged tilting his head to press an uncharacteristically romantic kiss to the curve of the Scot’s knee. “ ’sides, I got your mouth on her didn’t I? think I made up for it.” And before you could question if Simon was really the one to orchestrate all of this, Price quieted you with a bite of potato while Gaz leaned over to distract you with his lips on your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, love.”

And for the first time since you’d seen their search histories, you weren’t worried about much of anything other than when this might happen again.

____

me, who doesn’t ever really write smut: yes i will enjoy writing a fivesome with at least ten hands, five mouths, ten arms, and four penises to keep up with.

Y’all should see the notesapp where I had to like draw out stick figures to see if what I was writing was anatomically possible. I feel like this has gotten me on some kind of watchlist.

Taglist in Comments because there were too many of y'all!! Thanks to anyone who has commented, liked, and reblogged! Whenever I'm feeling uninspired, I just scroll through y'alls comments and they make me smile so so much!!!

#call of duty modern warfare x reader #ghost x reader #codmw x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #141 x reader #cod mwii x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #poly!141 x reader #Kyle Gaz Garrick x reader #hacker afab reader #poly 141 #poly ship #smut

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miwsolovely · 1 year ago

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CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST.

darkfics* will be stated as such / reader’s gender varies

SIMON GHOST RILEY

to be loved, for real. ONESHOT. SOFT HURT / COMFORT. HYBRID!READER. 0.7K.

“ I don’t love. ” “ that’s okay, i’ll do it for you. ” or: simon riley doesn’t love. thats okay; because you, you have enough love to fill the entire globe twice. scratch that, thrice.

good days. SERIES. UPCOMING. ANGSTY. EX-MILITARY!NANNY!READER.

“ protect her. can you do tha’? ” “ with my life. ” or: you need a job, a friend of a friend of a friend needs a nanny. military, nanny, synonymous words no?

JOHNNY SOAP MACTAVIST

frozen leaves. ONESHOT. FLUFF. 2K.

“ marry me. ” “ take me on a date first mr. mactavish. ” or: the monster in your chest won’t stop. its him, his dog, and you. love at first sight.

JOHN BRAVO SIX PRICE

magnolia in may. SHORT SERIES. UPCOMING. SAD THEMES.

“ well aren’t you just as pretty as a magnolia in may. ” or: you almost freeze to death. not to worry, the resident cowboy nurses you back to health. not your fault he’s handsome though.

↳ CHAPTERS: part one. / part two. / part three.

an old symphony. CHARACTER X CHARACTER. SICKFIC. PINCH OF ANGST.

“ You’re strong, John, . . . But even the strongest men need someone to hold them up. ‘S what I’m here for. ” or: John gets sick after a mission in Siberia, never been one for the cold, that one. Good thing he has a sweetheart for a lover.

pretty girl. ONESHOT. UPCOMING. FLUFF. 2K.

“ you make me forget the rules, dove. ” or: the king’s son takes a liking to you. the rules say no but your hearts scream yes.

when your need grows teeth. SERIES. UPCOMING. DARKFIC.

“ I am yours, but most importantly you are mine. ” or: you wake up after a bad accident with no recollection of who you are. no worries, the man claiming to be your husband will fix you right up.

KYLE GAZ GARRICK

loverboy. HC FORMAT. FLUFF. 1K. FIGURE SKATER!READER.

“ i love you. seeing you makes me smile ” or: you have a loving boyfriend. who supports you in everything you do. especially sports.

broken piano keys. ONESHOT. HEAVY ANGST. 2K

“ there was nothin’ you could’ve done, doe. ” or: your lifeline dies. and everyone is suffocating in their own sorrow.

↳ IN THE SAME VERSE: MIDNIGHT BLUES

calming tea. ONESHOT. UPCOMING. FLUFF. 2K.

“ comin’ after my own heart aren’t ya doll? ” or: you like drinking chamomile tea with a little snack while reading. not your fault the barista at your favorite cafe knows your order inside out. not your fault hes a sight for sore eyes either.

VALERIA GARZA

your teeth in my neck. SERIES. UPCOMING. ANGST. DARK.

“ i hate you. ” “ you can’t leave. i won’t let you. ”

MULTI / POLY

impurities. 141. SERIES. ONGOING. ANGSTY. MILDLY DARK.

“ how can you be an outsider, in a team full of them? ” or: they make your chaos make sense

ichor. 141. SERIES. ONGOING. DARKFIC.

“ you always have a place with us. ” or: the four farmers have a house. A big house. And that house, needs a housekeeper.

the bird that got away. GHOAP. SHORT SERIES. UPCOMING. DARKFIC.

“ shoulda known you’d run, bird. ” or: you think you learned your lesson

the riley’s. GHOAP. ANTHOLOGY. MILD ANGST. TEACHER!READER.

“ we want ye, bonnie lass. no one else. ” or: you fall in love with your neighbor and their daughter who’s also your student. what can go wrong?

* when i say ‘darkfics’, i DO NOT mean “this character will cnc, rape etc. this character.” no. topics like abuse or rape are/may be MENTIONED in my work but NEVER EXPLICITLY shown. if its not your cup of tea i COMPLETELY understand, i will also LIMIT the amount of ‘darkfics’ i write. i will also ALWAYS add warnings on my works if it’s needed.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

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biggestxsimps · 2 years ago

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Last Embrace

A/N: I am so sorry for not posting the last couple of months, I've had the worst bloody writers block. I know how much y'all like the Ghost fics so I hope you guys enjoy this! This one's a bit sad, even though angst isn't my strong suit, I really liked writing this and I think it turned out okay.

Just a disclaimer, I know nothing about the military and even less about dying so just let me know of any inaccuracies and I'll fix em.

WARNINGS: blood, mentions of guns and bullet wounds, normal war shenanigans, death (Let me know if I'm missing anything.)

During a mission, everything took a turn for the worse. Ghost urgently gave the order for everyone to evacuate, swiftly conducting a head count, only to realize that Y/N was missing. Filled with concern, he called out for him over the radio. "C/S? C/S, how copy?" Ghost's grip tightened on the radio at the lack of a response. "C/S?! Y/N, what's your position?"

Worry builds deep in Ghost's stomach, an almost nausea-like feeling coursing through him as he speaks through the radio once more. "Y/N. Y/N! I need your location!"

Y/N groans as he hears a loud ringing in his ears, one that fills his mind and brings an ache to his head. His eyes remain shut as he tries to ground himself, though the sound of a familiar voice in his left ear makes his lids slowly blink open.

Though his vision is blurry and everything feels fuzzy, Y/N places a hand on his shoulder and clicks the button on the radio. "Ghost? That you?" Y/N's strained and weak voice makes Ghost sigh in relief. "Ah fuck. Thank god, Y/N." Ghost's voice calms down as he speaks again, his voice stern as he tries to get an answer out of the other man.

"Where are you, Y/N?"

Y/N groans as he tries to look around, his vision still blurred enough to not be able to see anything in detail, he had little to no memory of what he'd been doing before, and the visible bright white walls and floor made him want to close his eyes again. Y/N speaks up once more, his voice holding a slight amusement. "Don't know.. I can't see properly. I'm inside a building, though."

Ghost seems to feel slightly more at ease once he hears Y/N speak, he was glad the man was okay enough to be able to smile through his pain. "Can you see anything? Anything at all?" Ghost looks around at the buildings in the area, Y/N could be anywhere.

"White walls and floors.. I can't make out anything else, though... That help at all?"

Y/N lets his body press against the cold wall behind him, relishing in the relaxing chill shooting through his body. He starts to take a few deep breaths as he tries to keep himself stable, slowly looking around the bare walls, the paint cracked and peeling. His vision gets torn away though, the bright lights starting to flicker, the hall flashing from eerily dark to painfully bright.

An annoying buzz was audible as the light stopped blinking, remaining on. Y/N could see debris on the ground, he wasn't surprised, this was a warzone after all. Y/N slowly closes his eyes, letting himself relax.

Though the feeling of a sharp pain makes his eyes shoot open, a pained noise escapes the man as he looks down at his body. His eyes widened as his gaze trailed down; the only thing he could make out was blood–blood covering his abdomen, blood covering his hands, and blood covering the floor.

Shit.

"Yeah, that helps, Y/N. I'll be there soon, you stay there, alright?" Ghost's voice was gentle, like he was trying to keep the man at ease. But Y/N wasn't listening, his eyes were too focused on the bloody mess in front of him. Y/N's throat starts to close up, the intense smell of the blood making him feel sick.

He brings his hands to the wound, pulling his warm, sticky, blood-soaked shirt up as he tries his best to judge the severity of it. His heart drops as he sees multiple bullet holes piercing his skin, cringing at the amount of blood still escaping him. He was hit with a sudden realization.

"Y/N, you still with me? I'm not far, just stay alive f'me, okay?"

"Ghost.. I don't think I'm gonna make it.."

Ghost's body fills with dread, his heart aching at the sound of Y/N's discouraged and afraid voice. Ghost shakes his head, trying to sprint even faster, his breathing ragged as he speaks through the radio. "Shut it. You're gonna be alright. I'm gonna make it to you, and then we're gonna get you out of here. Alive."

Ghost tries to keep his tone confident, but the shake in his voice shows just how worried he was. He knew that he had to make it there quickly if he wanted the best chance at saving Y/N. His words were rushed as he repeated himself, wanting to hear that Y/N believed him. "Do I make myself clear? I'm getting you out of here alive."

Y/N can't help but slowly shake his head to himself, he could see his wound, he could see how quickly he was losing blood, he could feel the way his body was slowly going numb. His breaths escape him at an uneven pace, his heart racing as he comes to terms with the situation. "Ghost.. I'm losing too much blood. I can't.."

"Yes, yes, you can. You will survive Y/N, I know you will. You have to.."

Ghost ran, ran like he's never done before. He couldn't lose Y/N, not now, not like this. The building was in sight, he was so close to being with Y/N, being able to help him, save him. Ghost could feel the burn in his legs and his lungs and the hard thumping of his pulsing heart. The dry feeling in his throat makes him want to take a breath, but he doesn't stop running, not for a second.

As Ghost ran into the building, Y/N could hear him, his loud footsteps echoing against the bare halls. "I'm here, can you tell me exactly where you are?" Y/N could hear Ghost's urgent yet puffed out voice from both the radio and from the right side of the building, the sound not too far away.

"I can hear you, Ghost.. You're to my right." Y/N's voice was the opposite of Ghost's, he tried to keep his voice as calm as he could, and the strain already being put on his body by the wound, made it impossible to speak any louder without putting himself in even more pain.

"Okay, just.. Just stay there. I'm nearly there, you're gonna be okay."

Y/N's eyes drift to the right side of the building, hearing Ghost's heavy footsteps hitting against the ground. A small and pained smile forms on Y/N's face as he sees the masked man come into sight, watching as he quickly rushes towards him.

A feeling of relief swarms through Ghost's body as he sees Y/N sitting against one of the walls, though the condition the other man was in made his worry come right back. He quickly makes it to Y/N, dropping to his knees as he brings his hands to Y/N's body. "Y/N.. Fuck..." He can't help but take a second to look into Y/N's eyes, his own brown ones showing extreme vulnerability, a look of pure fear.

Y/N lets out a dry and painful sounding chuckle, trying to ease Ghost a little. "Mhm.. it's me." Y/N brings one of his shaky and bloodied hands up, letting it just hover over Ghost's covered cheek, not wanting to get his blood all over Ghost's mask. Ghost doesn't seem to care though, letting his face gently push into Y/N's hand.

Ghost lets out a shaky breath as he feels Y/N's hand against his face. "You're.. You're gonna be okay.. I'm gonna get you out of here, alright? I promise." Y/N gently shakes his head, his small smile faltering as he pulls his other arm away from his wound.

Ghost's eyebrows furrow as he sees Y/N's reaction to his words, but before he can speak, his eyes move down to where Y/N had moved his arm from. Ghost feels his heart shatter as the sight, multiple bullet wounds scattered across his abdomen, blood slowly seeping from each one.

Ghost shakes his head, almost frantically as he brings both hands to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding with his gloved palms. All he manages to achieve though is flooding Y/N's body in pain, evident by the startled cries leaving the injured man.

"Fuck.. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Just let me stop the bleeding, let me.."

Ghost's panicky voice trails off as he sees Y/N's wounds only bleeding more aggressively at his touch. He shakes his head, looking down at the other man's body as he keeps his hands on the wound. The blood soaks through Ghost's gloves, the warm and gory liquid uncomfortably sticking to his skin.

Y/N's hands instinctively reach Ghost's wrists, pulling the other man's hands away. "Fuck! Stop.. stop, Ghost." Y/N's grip was weak and his body had little to no strength now. Ghost slowly pulls his own shaky hands away. "I'm sorry.. I just.. you're gonna be okay, I'm gonna find some way to stop the bleeding, and then we'll.. we'll go back home. We're gonna-".

"Simon."

Ghost's mouth shuts at the use of his real name, an audible gulp being heard. His eyes trail back up to look into Y/N's, the look the other man gave him only made his heart sink, he felt like his world was falling apart. "Please.. we both know I'm not making it out of here.. just-"

"You are. You're going to make it out of here. Shut up with that nonsense." Ghost doesn't want to hear it, he refuses to hear it, to acknowledge it.. to accept it. He tried to keep his voice stern but the tremble that grew with each word made it obvious he wasn't all too hopeful either.

He slowly pulls his hands out of Y/N's grasp, bringing them back down to the surrounding area of the wound, his quivering fingers gently trailed over the scarred skin. He pulled off his gloves, using his bare hands to touch Y/N.

"You.. you can't... You're all I have left.."

Ghost's voice softened, his words paining him as they left his mouth. Y/N rests his hand back onto Ghost's mask, sliding it slightly down as he slips a couple fingers underneath the mask. The injured man remains silent, afraid of the emotion that'll leave him if he dared to speak up.

Ghost feels Y/N's fingers slide underneath the mask, a warm feeling bubbling in his stomach. He brings one of his bare palms to Y/N's hand, holding it in place before slowly, cautiously, pulling his mask over and off his head.

The sight of the rugged man made Y/N meekly smile, his heart fluttering at the long-awaited reveal of the subject of his attraction. He had been into Ghost for quite a while, and he always had a suspicion that Ghost felt the same. It was almost a silent understanding between both men, never outwardly speaking of their true feelings yet knowing they felt them.

Ghost looks down, his eyes falling shut as his grip on the other man's hand tightens, holding him closer against his now bare face. He didn't care for the blood the other man's hand was rubbing onto his skin, he needed this, he needed the Y/N's gentle touch.

"Thank you.." Ghost slowly opened his eyes at the other man's pained voice, watching as Y/N slumps further down the wall, groaning at the pressure it relieved from his wounds.

Y/N lets out a small hum at the feeling of the cold floor pressing against his back, a stark contrast to the warm liquid pouring out the front of him.

Ghost slightly shakes his head, a small smile on his face as he questions the other man. "What are you doing?" The other man signals for Ghost to come closer, his voice strained but trying to keep it sounding as optimistic as he could despite the situation.

"Getting comfortable.. Come here."

Ghost does just that, shuffling closer to the man that was now laying flat on the ground, looking down at him, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes in the man's appearance. One of Y/N's weak hands moves to Ghost's arm, gently pulling him even closer.

"Sit down, relax." Y/N was oddly calm despite the situation, despite knowing his undeniable fate. "Relax? How am I supposed to-" Y/N tugs at Ghost's arm, interrupting him. "Please." The desperation in Y/N's voice made Ghost's stomach wrench, he silently sat beside him, bringing his hands to hold onto Y/N's.

Y/N gratefully hums, his eyes looking over the other man before making a request, pleading evident in his tone. "Think you could hold me..? Jus' for a bit?" Ghost nodded, carefully wrapping his arms around Y/N's shoulders, gently pulling him into his arms.

His senses were heightened, he could feel everything, the warm blood starting to soak through his own shirt and the shake in Y/N's body. The rough and cold hands of the other man, weakly wrapped over whatever part of Ghost he could reach. Y/N lays in his arms, weak and helpless, his skin losing colour and his body shaking more rapidly...

For the first time that evening, Ghost came to terms with what was going to happen, he couldn't deny it any longer, not when it was so obvious. His eyes tear up, his heart thumping louder as all he can do is pull Y/N closer, hold the injured man in his arms as he wishes for this to just be some twisted nightmare.

He couldn't keep himself calm anymore, waves of emotions crashing onto him, flooding his mind and filling his body with unease. His grip tightened, the fabric of Y/N's clothes balling up in his fists, he just pulled him closer, not wanting to let him go, not now, not ever.

"Hey.. Simon."

Y/N looks up at the man holding him, watching as he struggles to hold in the tears his body so desperately wants to let fall. Y/N's cold fingers trace along Ghost's cheek, pulling his face a little closer, his voice quieter and more strained than before. "It's gonna be okay.."

Though the injured man was smiling in a way to comfort Ghost, his true feelings were obvious. His eyes held fear, a fear Ghost had never seen on the usually optimistic man before.

He knew he had to be strong, he knew that whatever fear he felt right now, Y/N was feeling tenfold. He took deep breaths, trying to gather himself. He felt his throat close up, he couldn't speak, not without breaking down completely, he could only nod in reply. He brought a trembling hand down to Y/N's face, his rough fingers caressing the skin with a softness Ghost didn't know he was capable of.

Y/N closed his eyes, humming at the gentle touch, and the contrasting feeling of Ghost's warm hand pressing against his chilled cheek. His presence was comforting, it almost felt like he was cuddled up against a cosy fireplace, like the flames were crackling in front of him and leaving warm kisses on his cheek.

It was a nice thought, a nice feeling, but it seemed like the pain in his abdomen did anything it could to bring Y/N out of his calming mindset. It felt like his body was on fire, but also like he had been out in the cold for days. His feet were numb now and he could feel the way his legs and fingertips also started to lose their senses.

He looked up at Ghost, tears had started to form in his own eyes, ones that were impossible to hide. "I'm scared.. you'll be here.. right? Please.. don't let me go, not yet.." His voice was faint, filled with an uneasy panic. Ghost started to nod, bringing his face closer down, letting his lips press against Y/N's cold forehead.

"..yes, yes.. I'll be r-right here. I'm not moving.. I'm not letting you go..."

Y/N closes his eyes, his head falling to the side slightly as he sighs. "Y'know.. I always looked up to you, Simon.." He leans his head deep into Ghost's chest, his tears slowly falling as he feels his body go numb. He had lost all feeling in his arms and legs, even the ache in his abdomen had started to ease. Ghost shakes his head slowly, biting his lower lip in an attempt to hold in the sobs he so desperately wanted to let go.

"I love you, Simon."

Ghost pulled Y/N closer, letting out quiet, choked sounds. He felt Y/N's body start to go limp in his arms, his hands desperately pulling at the other man's body to hold him in a comforting embrace. "I.. I love you too... Fuck.. don't do this to me.."

"I'm sorry.." Y/N moves his head, digging his face further into the other man's chest. All he could smell and hear was Ghost, the man he had grown so attached to. It brought him some comfort, knowing he would be dying in Ghost's arms, not alone. "Forgive me.."

"Always, Y/N.. always.."

Y/N lets out a weak hum, slightly nodding his head as his body relaxes in Ghost's arms, his head now starting to fall limp, being too heavy for Y/N to move. "..thank you..." Y/N's voice was barely audible, his mumble causing Ghost's heart to shatter.

"Always.. a-always... I-I'm here.. always..."

Ghost cradled the dying man in his arms, soothingly whispering as he slowly swayed his body side to side. "It's okay.. It's okay... You're safe.. you're safe with me.." Y/N's voice was practically inaudible as he tried to mumble back to the other man, his incoherent slurs trailing off into silence.

Ghost felt as if his whole world was crashing down right before his eyes. He could only pull Y/N closer, continuing to cradle the fallen soldier. His movements became a little more frantic as he rocked their bodies, his fingers clawing at Y/N's cold skin.

"Shit- I'm so sorry... I-It's okay.. It's gonna be okay.. It's gonna be okay..."

He whispered into the other man's ear, his voice broken as he felt the tears he had been suppressing, finally fall freely. His words started as a means to comfort his dying partner, but it seemed like he was only trying to convince himself now. He mumbled a mantra of 'It's okay' and 'I love you', the words just tumbling out without his control.

His body trembled, his throat letting out more choked sobs now than it had in the last 10 years, his eyes were screwed shut, his head dug into Y/N's frozen neck. His hands tried their best to pull Y/N's limp head up, his tears pouring down his bloody cheeks as the other man's head just dropped back down.

If only he made it there sooner, if only he was there to protect him; none of this would've happened. He wouldn't be here, holding the corpse of the man that showed him what it was like to be alive, how to feel, how to love. The one person that had been able to break down his walls and make him feel human again.

It felt like hours, hours of cradling his deceased lover in his arms like a child, hours of sobbing and mourning the one person that brought light into this cruel world.

"Ghost? Do you copy?"

Ghost heard the static of his radio before the familiar voice of his Captain rung through his ears. "Ghost?" Ghost's teeth grit as he hesitantly brought his hand to the radio on his shoulder, forcefully composing himself before clicking the button. "I'm here." He looked down at the deceased man in his arms, hugging him close as his body threatened to break down once more.

"Evac's here, did you reach C/S?"

Ghost lets out a shaky breath, his fingers shaking as he grips the radio. "C/S's.. C/S's been KIA." His hand falls from the radio, his blood-stained fingers gently caressing Y/N's cold cheek, gently pulling his face closer. Ghost couldn't help but admire the other man, his eyes closed and his eyebrows relaxed. His lips were tugged into a small smile, his skin devoid of its usual colour. He looked.. peaceful.

There was a few seconds of silence from the other line before it was cut by Price's voice once more. "I'm sorry, Ghost." Ghost placed a soft kiss on Y/N's bloody forehead, speaking through the radio one last time, leaving no room for argument. "I'll be there in a few, I'm takin' him with me."

Ghost snatched his mask from the floor beside him, pulling it on before scooping Y/N into his arms. He lifted him up, holding his limp body against his chest as he whispered. "It's gonna be okay.. I've got you.." He held the man tightly, his eyes glancing down at Y/N's motionless figure every few steps he took.

"I've got you..."

A/N: Could you tell I struggled ending this? I won't lie, I teared up a couple times while writing this, I think this might be the saddest thing I've written. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated, especially since I'm still not too familiar with Ghost's personality. This is also my longest fic ever, about 3.4k words!

Also a big thank you for over 400 followers, we're so appreciative of all your support!

Masterlist

- Written by Owner 1

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redeyerhaenyra · 1 year ago

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Kyle Garrick relationship headcanons

Summary: Some sfw and nsfw headcanons for Gaz!!!

Warnings: Not too much this time, gn reader, some mild smut talk at the end, I will not have any gaz slander, if I've missed anything lmk!!!

Notes: Gaz my beloved ♥️

First of all

Enough! With the "Gaz is soooo nervous and shy" shit!!! He's not!!

Man's a soldier

Man's also really fucking witty and confident and hilarious

Makes me laugh every time I play the game

Anyway-

He's suave

He's got.. moxy

Knows just how to sweep reader off their feet!

Gaz is not shy about his love for you!!!! Don't get me wrong he shan't be snogging you in public but he shall:

Always be touching you. Some part of you

Just.. always keeping you close :)

Will let you take bites out of his subway sammich (I'm a subway truther)

He's so!!!!

Gaz is also.. not so much eager to please as much as he is certain of his abilities to please

Gets kinda cocky sometimes :p it's cos he knows he's good

Alot of people make the mistake of thinking that Gaz doesn't have the strength to haul you around like the other t141 guys

This is false

Sure he may be skinny but he got that core strength yknow

Has to hold really heavy guns and equipment and shit all day he's strong!!!

Will definitely pick you up and spin you around all romantic like when he sees you again on leave

Will definitely throw you across the bed ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He's flexible too... expect to try lots of new and interesting.. positions... >:)

Not only is he flexible in the physical sense, he's also very adaptable when it comes to sex

He's into loaaads of stuff, really depends on the mood, he can go either way!

He'd be lying tho if he denied that sometimes... he really prefers to just Fuck! You! Hard! And! Fast!!!

#gaz mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz smut #gaz x reader #codmw x reader #cod x reader #gaz smut #gaz headcanons #kyle garrick headcanon

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can-i-be-your-blue · 2 years ago

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Anybody think of cod men with a pilot reader (pilot as in a Titan fall monarch pilot) I think it be fun if they saw this huge talking ass robot come from the sky lmao. Either reader made the robot or she got teleported to another universe, iseksai type shit

#codmw x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #könig #roach cod

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ayyisasra · 4 months ago

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This riGhT HERE!!!!!! BROOO!!!! Love how you wrote this!!!! 🤤🤤 it’s the way I can see him in my head, gosh he’s so handsome l!

mmmm i'm thinking poolboy!gaz thoughts

you hear the sound of the gate creaking open, the faint scuff of shoes on concrete. you're stretched out on a lounge chair, barely covered by your stringy bikini, a popsicle between your lips, when a shadow moves into your peripheral vision.

you push your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose just enough to take him in. he's standing near the pool, hands on his hips, surveying the water with an air of quiet confidence. you'd be annoyed at the intrusion, if he weren't so damn easy to look at.

"who the hell are you?" you ask, voice lazy, syrup-slick from the cherry ice melting on your tongue.

he turns, honey eyes lingering on you as he flashes an easy smile. "i'm kyle. your parents hired me to take care of the pool."

you blink. they hadn’t mentioned that. but then again, they hardly mentioned anything these days, too busy hopping from one business trip to another. you shrug, taking another slow lick of your popsicle.

"knock yourself out."

and he does. he gets to work, and you watch. you shouldn't, but you do. because a few minutes in, his shirt comes off, and it's like the universe personally cursed you. he's built like sin, muscles flexing and skin gleaming under the relentless sun, beads of sweat trailing down the cut of his torso like something out of a fever dream.

you bite your straw instead of your lip, refusing to give yourself away. but it's useless. he notices. of course, he does.

for days, it’s a game. you, sprawled out under the sun, barely clothed, practically purring in satisfaction when a cool breeze ghosts over your skin. him, pretending not to notice, working diligently.

until the day you offer him a snack, something to keep him going for the rest of the time he's cleaning.

it's innocent enough, just a throwaway offer when he finishes skimming the pool, shoulders flushed from the heat. but when he steps inside, the air shifts.

he leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his broad chest as you rifle through the fridge. "you always this generous?"

you glance at him over your shoulder. "you always this nosy?"

he smirks. "only when i'm interested."

that does it. that one little confession flicks a switch in your brain. you turn, the fridge door swinging shut behind you, and before either of you can second-guess it, you're on him.

it’s reckless, desperate, the way your hands slide up his bare chest, nails digging into firm muscle. his mouth crashes against yours, all heat and hunger, and he hauls you onto the counter like you weigh nothing, pressing himself between your thighs.

"been teasing me for weeks," he mutters against your lips, hands dragging up your thighs, fingers toying with the thin strings holding your bikini together. " knew exactly what you were doing, hmm?"

and if his idea of a midday snack is his head between your legs, who are you to complain?

#kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #sergeant kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick #codmw x reader #cod gaz

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the-raindeer-king · 1 year ago

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Price and Simon are the type of guys to use their partner as an excuse to get out of social situations.

Like Johnny trying to convince Simon to go to the bar after work? Sorry, can't, he's got plans with his love.

Does he actually have plans with you? No, you're probably just at home watching TV. But Simon would much rather spend the evening with you, watching shitty TV.

Price will use you as an excuse to go home early. They just barely got to the pub an hour ago, and he's already over it. There's a rowdy group of guys at the bar, and Price already had a headache walking in.

So when he gets a text from you, asking how it's going, he takes it as a sign. He tells the others he's got to go, the missus/husband needs him at home.

And you're not going to question why he came home early with take out. A quiet night at home together is far more favorable anyway.

#cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #captain john price #john price x reader #codmw #captain john price x reader #my writing

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rose-constantine-wayne · 1 year ago

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♡ Someone tell me that they don't look the same.

♡it's literally him in animal form.

♡he's so adorable!!

#captain john price #john price #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #gaz kyle garrick #cod mw3 #codmw #john price x reader

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pr1cesgirl2 · 1 year ago

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Older!bf price headcannons

•Olderbf! Price who has gained weight since he left the military and is insecure about it. But you on the other hand love to worship his chubby body, so when you’re laying together you always lay on his man-boobs and softly caress the rolls of his stomach. John always gets very flustered by these acts.

•Olderbf! Price who comes home late from his new job to a very pouty girlfriend, he chuckles at your state as he tries to cuddle up in bed with you, repeating sorry over and over again until you’re both fully cuddled in bed

•Olderbf! Price who admires you anytime you do anything, like when you’re cooking and washing dishes when the golden sun shines through the white curtains, illuminating your hair and face or when you’re asleep in bed and the moon light is shining on your sleeping face, or when you’re holding your child in your arms or breastfeeding them.

•Olderbf! Price who - any chance he gets will do something nice with you. Wether it be going on a date to a restaurant or, going to the movies or, simply just going on a walk in a field together, he would gladly do that.

•Olderbf! Price who will listen and give advice whenever you feel down. Wether it be, you being overwhelmed or, the kids are giving you a hard time or, if your job is burning you out.

•Olderbf! Price who wouldnt pick anyone else to be the mother of his children. The way you care and can always make them calm is admirable, the way on a night when hes worked a very long shift you would get up and calm the kids down doing whatever it takes and taking your time with it.

•Olderbf! Price who, whenever you’re alone will start becoming quite sexual around you, making you all flustered. His eyes roaming you as you wear your tiny pyjamas with an apron on that points out your ass and breasts while making him breakfast makes his hard-on grow. Him, getting up and walking over to you, you’re hips swaying from the sound on the radio before gasping at him groping your cheeks.

•Olderbf! Price who will grope your ass and tits whenever he can, even when your breasts are sensitive just after a feeding. He loves hearing you whimper that you’re sensitive. His head buried between them before taking your large, sensitive and pulsin nipple into his mouth, lapping at it and sucking at it while grabbing the other one.

•Olderbf! Price who loves big booty and big tittied bitches, so basically just you. So when you send him a photo hes always drawn to the ones of you squeezing your tits or showing your ass out of your new little dress you bought

•Olderbf! Price who will lick at your needy pussy for hours, just wanting you to squirt all over his face, occasionally leaving hickeys on your thighs. Then raising his head he goes back up to your plush lips as he kisses you softly, one hand on your neck, the other shoving two fingers in your pussy

•Olderbf! Price who always praises you, when you squirt atleast 3 times. “Good girl” “Thats it love” “Fuck, you love me touching your little pussy, hm?” “This pussy belongs to me”. But occasionally you’re hit with some degrading “Such a slut, wanting more hm?” “Dont make a noise, brat”

•Olderbf! Price who when he first shoves it in you, lets out a groan and leans down to your ear whispering, “i want to get you pregnant again, you being all round and swollen and wanting to get fucked even more is what i like. And you’re tits becoming all sensitive and swollen just how i like them” he would groan into your ear. But he stayed there listening to your soft moans of approval.

•Olderbf! Price who when he starts pounding into your lets out another groan, but of discomfort this time and he stops, you look up at him and then down at his leg and realise hes got a cramp, you chuckle and pull yourself out of him, laying him down on the bed till the cramp goes away

•Olderbf! Price who when the cramp goes away, gives you the best aftercare, he runs you a bath and helps you wash all the sweat off of you and your hair. And after he helps you into bed, you both being still naked he buries his head into your breasts, falling asleep

#codmw #cod mw2 #john price smut #john price x reader #john price imagine #captain john price #john price #cod imagine #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod #cod smut

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decojellyfish · 5 months ago

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First. I love your work! Just the whole writing and stuff is so AAAAAAAA wonderful.

Second. Idk if its a gonna be a bother or something but i reread the Bonbon fanfic and thought if you could do a part 2. With the idea of because ghost is already a rescue price then brings another rescue home like gaz or soap.

I HOPE IM NOT BOTHERING YOU IM SORRYYYY

You're not a bother at all! In fact, I should be apologizing to you for taking so long with this! I hope it was worth the wait, enjoy! This is the official part 2 of Bonbon! (Go give it a read if you're interested :))

------

Boom! Boom!

Hybrid AU! TF141 (Retired) Guard Dog! Ghost x (Retired) Fight Dog! Soap x Kitten! Reader x Owner! Price Reader is only addressed as 'you' !!No Romance Towards Reader For Obvious Purposes!!

SFW ~ Fluff

Warnings: Occasional swearing? There’s barely any

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Cute Circus - Twintail Tsundere" 0:09 ━●────────── 2:47 ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

───♡───────────── Beginning It had been a year since you’d been adopted by Price and a few things have changed.

First of all, you had forgotten what it felt like to be starving or what you smelled like when they’d first found you. Bubble baths were a routine part of your week, and you loved playing with your toys and scratching posts. Sometimes, when you’d be mad, you would take it out on your scratching post, or if you were feeling rebellious, you would commit the cardinal sin of doing it on the couch. But you also loved snuggling. Whether it was Price or Ghost, you loved curling up on their lap under a blanket with one of your toys. Sometimes it would be the only thing that would get you to fall asleep.

Price enjoyed the extra company and finally had someone to accompany Ghost while he was gone. Price had never really taken on a father role in his life until you came into the picture. At points, he felt like the best father figure anyone could ask for; other times, he wondered if he knew anything at all about parenting. Sometimes, he felt like he was being too mean to you, snuggling with you after a small quarrel as an act of both apologizing and forgiving.

Ghost, on the other hand, felt as if you weren’t disciplined enough. He felt like you were a little brat, getting into trouble all the time with the blame usually falling on Ghost’s shoulders. You were a little angel in Price’s eyes, only to turn around and kick Ghost out of his usual spots around the house, running it like you owned the place. But only he was allowed to be your bully. Any time you, him, and Price were out and another hybrid tried to get smart with you, a kitten, Price would have to physically hold Ghost back as he barked up a storm about how he was gonna turn them into fish food by drowning them.

But all in all, things were nice.

Then came along the mutt from the forest.

You had been playing in the yard for about an hour, Ghost was supervising you to make sure you didn’t run off into the woods. He was bored, but still kept his ears perked for any sign of danger… which he quickly caught a whiff of. He stood up from his seated position in the grass and made his way over to where the mouth of the forest began.

There was a small forest that resided in the backyard of Price’s neighborhood. You were only ever allowed to go in there under the supervision of both Ghost and Price. So when you saw Ghost slowly venturing out into the woods, you knew something was up. Your little ears perked up, your fluffy tail swishing with childlike curiosity.

So naturally, as the little kitten you were, you did the sensible thing.

You silently followed behind Ghost, not alerting him of your presence. He was too focused on finding the danger and keeping it from coming any closer to his family.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ghost was following a certain scent, it seemed to belong to a burly one, built similarly to him. They smelled sweaty, musky, and… scared? No, angry. No, scared? A mix of both? It was a marbled mess of both emotions.

His ears twitched in one direction, sensing a rapidly approaching figure. He quickly turned his body to face the figure head-on, ready to attack. His guard dog instincts kicked in with a small snarl as he eyed the violent dog approaching. That’s when a little thing caught his attention in the corner of his eye.

It was you!

What the hell were you doing here?! How did you follow him so silently?? Probably because you were a cat, but that’s beside the point. He looked at your tiny form with wide eyes, “What are you doing here?! Get back to the house! Now-!” He was cut off when he suddenly got tackled.

The two bulky figures collided, rolling and flying across the rough ground, causing you to yelp in alarm.

Ghost let out a growl, grabbing the figure by their shoulders and forcing them away, ready to bark their arse off before something made him stop. His eyes were wide and his mouth awkwardly hanging open. The figure, another dog-hybrid, had also stopped and was now catching his breath as he stared down at Ghost with a similar expression.

It was silent for a few moments, just the two canines panting for air with their bewildered expressions. The mysterious pup was first to break the silence.

“Ghost?”

“Soap?” Ghost replied, just as astonished as Soap was.

“Ghost!” Soap rejoiced, pulling his brother from another mother close into a hug. “Oi, where’ve ya been?? How’s retirement goin’???” He had a giant smile on his face, his tail wagging so much that it was causing his hips to move side to side as well slightly.

“Eh, it’s been good. Eventful. Why the hell are you all roughed up? They kick you out or somethin’?” “Uhh, it’s complicated.” Soap chuckled. “Let’s jus’ say, I got roped into underground fightin’ and now I’m also retired.” He laughed a little more while Ghost looked at him slightly confusedly.

“Oh, hey! No mask!” Soap pointed out, now holding Ghost’s head and examining his face. “Aye, I knew you were a blondie!” “Yes, Soap, being retired means there’s no need to hide my identity.” Ghost sighed as he was forcefully examined by his old friend.

Soap smiled from dog-ear to dog-ear as he finally got to see the face of his good friend, looking at each scar, wrinkle, and bump his face had to offer. “You’re quite the looker, Ghost.” He smirked before he was abruptly attacked by a little thing.

You meowed and hissed as you latched onto the weird man who decided to attack the man who was like a big brother in your eyes. Your claws were tiny, but you spent a fair amount of time with your scratching posts so you knew how to hook them in. The man yowled and reached back, quickly plucking you off of him as his chipped ears pinned to the back of his head.

You kept hissing and scratching the air in his direction while he and Ghost looked at each other, Soap was obviously more confused while Ghost was trying to hold back a chuckle. “Who the hell is this??” “Uh… they’re with me, Soap.”

Soap looked at his best friend with eyes as wide and big as saucers, “...you had a kid?!” He looked at you again before looking back down, “...with a cat?!”

Ghost just had to stifle his chuckles, his head slightly shaking back and forth. He had to contain his laughter before finally telling Soap the whole story about you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price had finally returned home after a long, tiring shift at work. With a soft thud, he set his bag down near the front door and took his coat off.

“I’m home!” He called out, his gravelly voice laced with a hint of exhaustion. His eyes perked up at the muffled sound of you playing outside, with Ghost he assumed. Your happy giggles and squeals, an occasional shriek of surprise followed by more laughter. It made him smile knowing you were getting proper time outside despite the temperatures gradually decreasing as autumn approached.

Walking to the back door, Price opened it expecting to see two hybrids playing in the backyard but was surprised when he saw three, even after trying to recount them to make sure he wasn’t losing his mind. For a moment Price thought it was a feral hybrid who had planned on attacking his family, but realized you weren’t in any danger while Ghost was still supervising.

You were playing with the feral hybrid, and he was playing with you. He would chase you, you would chase him, ride on his back while he ran around, and laugh as he put on a show for you as he chased his tail in rapid, small circles. Still, Price was your father (in a sense) so he had to step in.

“Ghost,” he shouted at the blonde pup, “What’s all this?” Ghost looked over at the old man, offering a reassuring smirk. “Just an old work buddy, or friend. Can we keep ‘im?” He chided, his tail slightly wagging. Price only sighed, already knowing there was only one correct answer.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

So now, this is your current life. Ghost watching as you and Soap play around in the living room, lazily attempting to play with you on the couch, and Price shouting from the kitchen, as he’s making dinner, to be careful and not knock anything over.

Soap would always get this guilty look on his face when he was told this, knowing he was the culprit behind the murder of a few innocent standing vases and decor.

You loved playing with him, especially when he would play this game where he pretended you were a bomb that he had to drop (safely onto the couch, of course). He would do a dramatic countdown, “3…2…1!” and then plop you right onto the couch cushion then the two of you would chant, “Boom! Boom!”

Then, he would tickle you relentlessly until Ghost barked at him to stop because he didn’t like your little giggle-shriek sounds. Soap would stop, then make Ghost his next target by scratching behind his scarred ears. This caused Ghost to kick one of his legs uncontrollably, making you giggle.

There were times when you didn’t like Soap as much. Sometimes, he would take a bit of food from your plate without you noticing, making you through a small hissyfit when he finally took a noticeable amount. Other times, he would bark at you to stop scratching at the armrests of the couch before gesturing to all the other scratching posts you had.

In return, you would give him… the silent treatment.

Which lasted about 5 or 10 minutes until you asked him to play with you, which he happily agreed to with a small chuckle.

But the most enjoyable part of your days now was in the evenings after dinner. When you’d be curled up between Price and Ghost, your head in Price’s lap as he kept a hand scratching your head, and Ghost keeping a hand on your back or belly (depending on which position you were resting in) as he felt the subtle rise and fall of your lungs as you drifted off.

Soap usually sat on the floor, his head close to yours, so your relaxed purrs went directly into his ear. This made his tail wag with a repetitive soft thumping. All of you were probably settled down for a movie of some sort or just stayed in the living room for a small chat. Not like you were paying any attention though, you were just there to fall asleep.

However, other times, Price would read you a bedtime story instead. With Ghost and Soap sitting by you for extra security as you fell asleep that way, still loudly purring and making biscuits out of your blankie.

They would all wait for your purrs to fade out and biscuits to slow to an eventual stop, signaling that you had fallen asleep, and now was the tricky part of tiptoeing away from your little cat bed without waking you up.

Once they were successful, they would close the door, leaving it open with a small crack to allow a little light to pour in. They all snuck one last peek at you before leaving with a content sigh or grunt.

They loved how you took them on all sorts of adventures with occasional mischief.

They loved their lives

And they loved you. ───♡───────────── End

I hope you enjoyed it, everypony!! Thank you all so much for your patience. Feel free to leave a request! (I make no promises they'll be finished quickly though ;0; I still need to go to college and make art lol) ------ Taglist: @venavanup @draculauraspage @tf141gloryhole @obnoxiousbag @chanel-princess-world @ssc7514

If you would like to be added to the taglist so you can read my latest fics, let me know! Thank you :)

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supernova2205 · 4 months ago

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Keep an eye out for selener

Hi everyone! I wanted to let you know that I’m working on a little story for Simon, and I'm also creating some artwork on my patreon for my free members to go along with it. I can’t wait to share it with all of you! I do have a question, though.

Alrr Im gonna make a sketch for my free patreons then make a fully rendered version for my paying patreons

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notquitecanon · 23 hours ago

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Feeling, Sudden and New || Simon “Ghost” Riley x (John “Soap” MacTavish x F!reader)

It’s always freaky ghost this, freaky ghost that. Ok. Well how about freaky ghost and freakier Mr.&Mrs. MacTavish.

Summary: Simon meets his Johnny’s wife for the first time, and unlocks a new emotion. He has no fuckingmidea what to do about it. Meanwhile, Mr.&Mrs. MacTavish are on the same page, and nothing if not determined.

Trigger warning: alcohol consumption, established relationship (reader x Soap), Ghost’s inner emotions (dark themes). Not rating this 18+ but it’s teetering. Jealous Ghost

Ghost has never considered himself a complicated individual, not really. Or rather, he’d never had to spend hours agonizing over his inner complexities. Sure- he was different from the average man, darker, perhaps more twisted, maybe too possessive. But he knew these things. He always knew what he wanted, what he was feeling.

He knew what his anger felt like, a thick and tar-like oil slick over his insides, always with a match hovering too dangerously close, threatening to ignite it and consume everything he touched. He knew how fix his anger- bloody knuckles, the recoil of a rifle (practice range or target’s skull didn’t matter), a finger or two of bourbon, and a cigarette after a good fuck.

He knew what paranoia felt like, a pine box in a fresh dug grave, not enough oxygen and wet soil filling in around him. He knew how to resolve that too: (see above).

He knew what his want felt like- cavernous and void, the edge of a canyon with no safety rail, dark and beckoning, somehow a living thing. He was working on learning to resolve this one, (see above + ignore, repress, ignore, repress, go to pub for another drink and a fuck, slip out in the morning)

The point was that his own inner workings might be a mystery to everyone else, but not to him. He’d long since come to terms with himself as a machine, and a machine was nothing without known instructions and maintenance. He knew what he wanted, always.

So when a dark and ugly feeling licked the back of the teeth as Soap, his sergeant, his Johnny, introduced Mrs. MacTavish to him in a pub after some stupid chestcandy ceremony that Simon managed to ditch but Johnny hadn’t been so lucky. Or, maybe he had been, if the lacy impression on the satin that covered the round of your ass was any indication. Lingerie under that pretty dress, like the present under the wrapping paper.

The wife, of course you’d celebrate your husband who was probably well on his way to a promotion. Pretty dress, pretty nails, pretty gloss on pretty lips around a pretty smile. Ghost had to force his eyes off your mouth as you smiled at him, nodding in his usual sullen demeanor as a greeting as he went back to his bourbon.

He was busy, trying to figure out this new feeling. This dark and twisting feeling that coiled around his brain stem, trying to choke out the light, casual demeanor he was forcing. Green. Green like algae blooms in ponds, thick and blocking all the light that lets good things grow. No, this only harbored sick, twisted things under the surface. And yet it was warm as it sucked him down.

Envy. Possession. Jealousy. Those were the feelings. He could tell that much by the way his knuckles went white as Johnny helped you into the booth, stealing a kiss and biting your lip as he did. And yet, his own teeth met the inside of cheek hard enough to draw blood when you smacked your husband’s ass as he went to the bar for drinks.

“Thanks, honey.” You called after him. Simon wondered if you called him Johnny, and then decided probably not, you never needed to. He’d overheard Soap’s calls home, it was always soft honey, sugar, baby, sweetheart,’s crackling across the line. You didn’t need to call him Johnny, you called him yours. The green feeling twisted again, and yet something smug as well. Honey was yours, Johnny was his, only his.

Simon resisted the urge to physically shake the feeling loose. What had him in such a twist? He needed to resolve this feeling, and quick. He knew what happened when his feelings went unresolved. Blood, bullets, and blacked out sections of mission reports. He needed to resolve it because soon you’d expect him to actually talk to the both of you, and right now something heavy and hot was sitting on his chest.

He glanced back up at you in the booth, and you smiled at him, crossing your legs under the table in a way that made the toe of your pretty high heels graze his knee. The touch lingered, and then you took it away from him, almost like you were just gauging his reaction. Two things reared in him at the same time, the desire to recoil away and yet also the instinct to lean in, pull you closer, so there was no choice but to remain lingering.

He scoffed as Johnny brought another round to the table. Not bothering to clarify if it was at you or himself. An eyebrow quirked as his sergeant slipped into the booth, but not beside his pretty bird of a wife. No- Soap slid in on the other side, so he was caught between the two of you in the corner of the booth. Another scoff, his eyes on the new pour of bourbon, the glistening lump of clear of ice rapidly melting in the muggy heat of the pub. In the oppressive heat that radiated off both of you. No escape without going through one of you.

He wondered, idly, who he would choose. To go through, of course. Would he manhandle Johnny out of the way, rough and demanding as their dynamic usually was, with jokes and taunts that would send others running. A master yanking a leash. Or, would he lift you out of the booth as easily as Johnny had, satin dress soft as the plush of your hips under his fingers as he gently lifted you over his lap as he slipped away. Would either of you watch him leave? Would you follow? Did he want to be followed, and by who?

“Fuckin’ hell.” He mumbled, half aware that you and your husband had been chattering over him while his brain ran in circles. Johnny laughed heartily at the sudden interjection, one of his big arms slung over the back of the booth a finger hooked into the black hood of Simon’s sweatshirt. You giggled, leaning forward onto the sticky table, chin resting in your palm.

What he missed, as he stared down his drink once more, was the way your eyes sparked and then dilated as you took him in. The yin to your husband’s yang, the LT you’d heard so much about, the silence to John’s music, the shadows to his flames. And now you understood the way your husband talked about his superior. The way his eyes lit up and darkened all at once, why his touch was heavy on your skin when Ghost was mentioned.

Built like a tank, Ghost was tall, dark, and looked like the kind of man who could ruin whatever he touched and then would burn the world down to build it back up again. And you were wondering if he could suck a hickey on your collar without taking off the mask.

Johnny met your eyes with a knowing look. You were just as hooked as he was. And whatever wifey wants, wifey gets.

#part two?#ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mctavish x reader #call of duty modern warfare x reader #codmw x reader #soap x reader

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miwsolovely · 1 year ago

Text

—THE WEIGHT OF BLOOD.

pairing: outlaw!farmer!141 x fem!reader

series masterlist taglist (closed.) next prev

contains: pov change, graphic violence, gore, reader’s husband insults her, mentions + use of knives in this chapter, reader is called a whore, implications of kidnapping, drugs.

summary: slippery floors.

wc: 4.7k

a/n: oh…

You always felt as if you were walking on eggshells with him.

You missed how you used to feel with him. When the sun was barely shining on your life and peppering your face with light, guilty, kisses.

Now that the sun is hidden by the horizon, no longer are the kisses light and guilt ridden, but they are harsh and forceful. No more are the rays hitting your skin with a warm embrace, but its replaced with a chill so unforgiving it’s like a whip against your skin.

No longer are the eggshells digging into your skin, because glass shards are piercing into your feet, digging into the flesh and staying there so that every time your once delicate, soft feet hit the floor, a wave of pain and realization washes over you.

Every step is a reminder; you’re never going to be free of him.

You let out a shaky breath and wince at your husband’s booming voice. Pointing fingers and yelling curses.

Johnny and Simon are doing little to nothing to stop him, in fact, they seem to be holding back.

Why?

Why are they holding back when your husband, James Fitzroy, is insulting their mothers? Their sisters, brothers? Them?

“We didnae do nothin’ to ye,” Johnny starts, standing in front of Simon when James gets too close for his liking. “So back the hell off.”

James scoffs with a sick smile on his face. “You didn’t do anything to me?” He spits. “Of course not, you just came into my house, and fucked my wife, is that it? Hm? Had your fill already?” He taunts, his hair flying wild.

You always loved his hair. His golden, rich dark hair, suggestive of the precious metal, mimics the beauty and luxury of his picture perfect world; compared to you however, your soul hides what’s really behind closed doors.

You shake your head to rid your mind of those thoughts. He’s not shining gold anymore, the secrets in this house are slowly coming to light. He resembles something that seems kind, but hurts you when you actually expect it, when you know it can hurt you. Like the sun.

“We didn’t do anythin’ to your wife.” Simon defends. He steps forward so he’s now side by side next to Johnny, the kitchen looking too small for them. “We just came here to deliver the meat she ordered, is all.”

“Oh really?” James says. He shoves an accusing finger in Simons shoulder.

He’s going to hurt them. He’s going to hurt them and you’re just standing there.

Like the pliant little housewife he made you to be.

What are you doing just standing there?

When you let the heavy coat drop from your arms onto the floor and you take a singular step in their direction, you can feel the glass digging deeper into your skin.

Every step is a reminder.

As you near your husband, you shudder. His wrath is like a toxic air that’s slowly killing you from the inside out. Taking and taking until there’s nothing left of you to take.

You reach your James, scared to meet the questioning gazes of Johnny and Simon, and reach a trembling hand to touch his shoulder. “James—”

He whips his body around to face you. You can see, feel, his anger as it burns everything it touches. Hungry for more. He grabs your outstretched hand and squeezes. Ignoring the whimpers of pain that fall from your lips and the tears that blur your vision and fall down to meet at your chin.

“You.” He says it with so much, loathe dripping from his voice, painting his lips, his chin, neck, black with anger.

“You fucking whore, playing around with these, little boys, getting their dicks wet while I slave away at work and provide for you?”

His face is too close. So close, you can smell the stink of alcohol on his breath, recoil as you feel the spit flying out of his mouth land on your face. You feel your tears falling fatter and faster as you see the hickeys and lipstick prints on his neck.

“You let go of ‘er—”

Your free hand feels like lead as you raise it to bring it down with such force it leaves a red mark on his face the moment your skin touches his, his face forced to the side, facing the wall.

You feel your soul getting doused in gasoline and set on fire.

You see James’s body turning rigid and stiff as his face turns a canvas of anger.

You blink away your tears.

He stiffens as if he endures the horrors you have to watch him do at night. He stiffens as if his body is constantly being clawed, dragged, down by hands that burn. He stiffens as if he has glass stuck in the soles of his feet, spilling his blood onto the floor and staining the wood, the walls, you. You, you, you.

He turns his head back to its original position to at you, but he’s stopped. Stopped by a scared hand deep his hair wrenching back so his body topples to the floor with a reverberating thud. You almost fall with him with his tight grip on your wrist, but you feel Johnny’s hand pluck yours out of his and cradle it, cradle you, to his chest.

But you can’t focus. You see your vision blurring and a ringing, your soul screaming, in your ears is blocking out the noise of Simon’s fists connecting with James’s face.

You watch with horror gleaming in your eyes as you see your husband’s face and body grow more and more unrecognizable by the second.

Why are you just standing there?

“Get—” Simon’s fist interrupts his slurred cries. “—th’ fuck off ‘f me you d’rty bast’rd . . .”

Your husband is getting beaten, and you’re standing in the arms of another? A stranger?

Simon’s eyes. They’re burnt a charcoal black and only seemed to be getting darker by each blow he landed on your husband’s face. It scares you to no end.

“You stain your wife’s skin with that mouth?” A sharp sound, a slap echos throughout the room. Right where your hand hit his face. Right where your hand can be seen on his face as a bright red gone darker by Simon’s force.

Your eyes catch a gleam in the light, a gleam of something sharp, of something used to kill.

A pocket knife.

James struggles to fully pull it out of his pocket but when he does, he grips it with a shaking hand and stabs blindly at Simon’s arm.

You suck in a breath and can only watch as silence consumes the room with Johnnys arms tightening around you.

He didn’t even flinch as the knife was forced into his skin, didn’t even react as he gripped the handle and yanked the knife out of his arm, his blood following the knife like a lost dog before splattering on the ground like abstract art.

Noises of pain and fear escape the opened mouth of your husband, noises that you’ve never heard him make. Only noises of power and rage.

Simon rises to his full height and takes a handful of James’s hair, dragging him up with him.

“Simon—” You beg, but it’s too late. With the grip Simon has on James’s hair, he pulls his arm back and swings it, swings James, towards the kitchen counter at full force.

His head ricochets off of the counter and he lands back on the floor, right in front of your shaking form.

He lays there sideways and still as the long gash running straight across his forehead leaks blood onto his clothes and floor at a rapid pace. You stare at it as the blood slowly runs towards you.

You’re staring at your husband’s bleeding body.

Simon grabs James’s pant leg—pants that you remember buying for him with a smile— and yanks his body towards him to resume what he hadn’t finished.

When the blows continue, you find yourself wincing at each one, unconsciously sinking deeper into Johnny’s warm body.

You feel like cold water is raining down on your body.

“Stop—” Your cry escapes your lips broken. “stop, please! Simon please—you’re hurting him!”

You try to push Johnny off of you, try to yank your limbs out of his strong grip but that’s just it. His strong grip is like a snake that captured its prey, rolling its body around it and holding onto it until it dies, until it can’t feel anymore, until you can’t breathe anymore.

“Let me go—Johnny let me go!”

He shushes your cries and doesn’t even bat an eye when you turn to bang your fists on his chest and run your nails down his skin. He just cradles your head to his chest right where his heart is so you can hear his heartbeat and be soothed.

But how can you be soothed when—

“Simon.” You hear him say. “That’s enough.”

Like changing tides; Johnny’s voice sweeps into his mind and altered his landscape of emotions. Changing from the beast in a story to a soft bear.

A bear with blood dripping from its mouth.

Simon stops the torture that he inflicted upon your husband and keeps his back turned to you and Johnny as he stands. Blood, James’s blood, dripping from his clenched fists and escaping into the crevices in your tile floor.

He turns at the waist to you and Johnny. You, who’s still struggling to escape his arms, you whose tears are never ending on your damp cheeks, you who’s watching your husband struggle to breathe, blood exiting his mouth in bubbles, popping and splattering the red mess everywhere.

And Johnny, who watched with a satisfied smile growing on his face.

Bells were ringing in your ears, stars were dotting your vision, your hands were shaking, you can’t breathe. “James . .?” You whisper. Your voice coming out so broken that Johnny almost felt sorry.

He still has his arms around you, still feels your beating heart pound against the cage around it, against his chest, still feels the sting of the bruises and scratches you left on him, the latter leaving blood trailing down his arms, dripping and dripping until they bleed into your dress, bleed into you. He still feels, you.

“What . . . No . . . no, no!” Your wail runs deep and escapes raw from your soul. You wail and it breaks Johnny’s heart, breaks it into tiny pieces scattered all around this cruel world you all live in. This world filled with cruel people.

“You killed him! You killed him!” You struggle, and Johnny grunts out curses as you elbow his stomach, slipping in blood and failing to the floor, your dress pooling at your feet, shaking in the blood staining the floor and dying the front of your once blue dress red. You fall right in front of Simon. Right in front of your husband’s still warm body. Still bleeding. Still breathing.

You burn the part of you that feels disappointed in that fact.

“James,” You whisper, cradling his face, his broken face, his face that is broken and bleeding, in your hands. You know it will haunt you for life. “Please, please, wake up. . . wake up . . .”

Blood was everywhere.

Your cries are silent except for the horror filled gasps you let out in between breaths. Your hands shake and you feel as if the coldest of waters were dumped on you. Hoping there would want you up from this dream, this nightmare.

“Why . . ? Why did you do this . . ?”

Your face is drenched in your tears running down your face, some fleeing into your mouth, making you taste your own sweet nectar tears. A nectar that is sticky and leaves a bitter rather than sweet taste in your mouth, a nectar that clings to things that aren’t theirs and never lets go. A nectar like Simon and Johnny.

“He was hurtin’ ye lass,” Johnny says. “We couldnae let ‘im hurt ye like tha’” He walks towards you, the squelch sound coming from his boots walking on blood make you flinch and cover your mouth in terror with your shaking hands, spreading blood, your husband’s blood, all over your tear stained cheeks.

Johnny squats down next to you, his thighs brushing over yours as he watches you. Watches you process that your husband might as well be dead to you, and he’s not coming back no matter how hard you pray.

You feel Johnnys hand, his warm hand, his soft hand, his dry hand, guide your face to lock your eyes with his.

“Ye know we had to.” He says. His eyes aren’t bright anymore. Now they’re dark waves at night. Luring innocents into its waters and taking, drowning, keeping. “Right, love?”

Your eyes shift back to James’s body in your peripheral, still feeling the cold gaze of the two men on your face.

His eyes are swollen shut; but if they were open, you could imagine they’d be looking at you, piercing you with that gaze you used to love so much, The gaze you find yourself missing; back when things were good, not burnt and soaked in blood.

His skin is pale. It turns as white as the pure clouds that once blocked the heat of the sun. But now the clouds are dark, they’re dark and they obscure the warmth of the sun to let the cold chill of death sink its claws into the fertile earth.

His chest barely rises with the painful breaths he’s taking.

He’s still alive.

Your shaking eyes peel away from James and they lock with Johnny’s again.

And you know, with a heavy and pained heart, that he can see the tiny part of you that agrees with him.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your eyes burned and your head is pounding. All you can hear is ringing. Ringing, screaming, crying, all the same to you in this moment.

You hear someone call your name, you feel a wet hand touch your shoulder, you feel something sharp sink into the fragile skin of your neck.

You feel the cold shadow of darkness embrace you.

Your body feels heavy.

Heavy with guilt, fear, and an overwhelming sadness.

Heavy with whatever drug was forced into you.

In your milky haze, your eyes open slightly and the sun burns your eyes even through the thick curtains blocking it.

You think they’re curtains. They could very well be something else; but they move with such a fluidity in them that you can’t think otherwise.

This room you’re in moves as if it’s a vehicle on a bumpy road, your ears pick up the sound of an animal trotting on the rough road.

Someone moves, blocking the shining sun with their body as they move to learn towards you.

“Sh, Bonnie lass.” A voice coos at you, brushing their—his—hand over your temple to gently move the hair that rested there. “Yer alrigh’, we’re gonnae get ye someplace safe.”

When you let out a hoarse moan in protest to his action, another hand, a bigger hand, pets your hair and plants a chaste kiss on your sweating forehead.

You let out a dry cry and try to move your head in another direction, any direction, but the poison burning your veins and warming your skin is making you a limp doll.

Your lips are cracked and your throat is raw. When you try to speak, the sentence gets lost on the way out of your mouth and only one word escapes.

“. . . home . . .”

The soft voice, the first voice, shushes you again, moving your body and placing it sideways in a laying position so your head rests on his lap and your legs dangle on something else. Someone else.

“It’s gonnae be okay hen, don’ worry that pretty head. We’ll get ye home safe with us.”

You last see the curtains move after going over a particular bump in the road, revealing dancing trees and a large sign; though you only see the last part of it before your body succumbs to sleep:

—POPULATION: TWO HUNDRED SEVENTEEN.

In the murky shadows of the dimly illuminated room, wisps of smoke curled and danced around the man seated amidst the gloom like a dragon.

With each inhale, the ember of the cigar flared, casting fleeting glimpses of their features into the obscurity.

The apple of his cheeks, his beard shining auburn, his eyes that reflected an angry sea.

“She sleepin’?” He asks into the shadows. His voice is rough and deep, his words escape him in a cloud of smoke as dark as his eyes.

“Yes. Brought ‘er in an hour or so ago. A ripe peach she is.” The shadow answers, stepping away from the window that covered an entire wall adjacent to the grand desk. The shadow walks the length of the room to stand in front of the desk, he picks up a random trinket from the desk and starts twirling it between his fingers repeatedly.

“And the husband? Tell me the bastards’ gone.”

The smell of smoke and ash covered the room. But nothing could cover the smell of blood coating the shadows fingers, staining the trinket, the knife, in his hand.

“He’ll never hurt her again.”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

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