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thegnomelord · 6 months ago

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This awakened something in my lil gay soul; NSFW MDNI: dp, Johnny/Simon/Kyle, humiliation kink, bathroom sex, dom/sub undertones, 90's standard homophobia, dub-con/CnC cause simon doesn't outright agree but he's into it.

Now I'm thinking of cop Simon going to the gay bar 'undercover' to 'get evidence'. Spoiler alert: he's shit at subterfuge and stands out like a sore thumb, everyone can tell he's a cop but don't do shit because they can all smell the gay in denial on him.

He ends up being lured to the fucking booth bathroom by Kyle who's in drag. Kyle's pretty brown eyes and sweet smile eases down Simon's defences — it's not gay if Kyle looks like a woman, right? A little kiss wouldn't hurt, Simon, you're still as straight as an arrow. Besides, it's not like you're actually kissing Kyle, right now he's Queen Claudia and what upstanding Manchester boy wouldn't want to have a few minutes of her attention?

Kyle's lips taste sweet like the fruity drinks he's had, but it's the sensation of calloused fingers caressing his stubbled jaw that makes Simon feel drunk. And it's Kyle's name that slips past his lips when Simon pulls back from the kiss to suck in a shallow breath, pupils wide and a blush across his face as bright as Kyle's lipstick.

Simon doesn't notice Johnny come up behind him. Well, he does notice him when Johnny locks Simon's hands behind him with the handcuffs Simon had left him the last time he was 'interrogating' Johnny.

"Look whaet we've hav here Claudia?" Johnny chuckles, chest as firm against Simon's back as his arousal that's poking Simon's rear. "A lil piggy came to play?" A rough hand over his mouth keeps Simon from snarling back at Johnny. Kyle's manicured fingers groping his emberassingly hard cock shuts down his brain enough for them to drag him into the dingy bathroom stall.

The stall's had many visitors, numbers, scratchy messages and dried cum stains dotting the walls. They ignore the hole sawn into the side of the stall — they'll make sure Simon properly apologises to the other bar goers for continuosly raiding the bar after they have their turn — instead they have him sitting in Johnny's lap, pants already down his ankles. They get a nice surprise as Simon's not wearing any underwear.

"Knew yae was a bigger fairy than us English." Johnny snorts, wide palm leaving a red stinging handprint on Simon's pasty ass. His kilt is already flipped up, rock hard cock leaking a few drops of pre against Simon's hole. "Lil pig just couldn't wait ta 'ave his stuffing?" His other hand is still holding Simon's jaw closed, but his black painted fingers dig into Simon's skin and forcefully nod his head. "'course yae couldn't, got so green eyed when yae'd see me take it up the arse."

"Caught yourself a fat one 'Tav." Kyle giggles behind Simon, spit lubed fingers circling around his dry hole. Automatically he clenches, but the tensing of his muscles isn't enough to keep Kyle from slowly pushing in. A half broken sound escapes past Johnny's palm as Kyle wiggles his fingers to force him to relax, thumb rubbing his rim in a soothing way. "Look how wet he already is."

His words draw Simon's extremely hard cock as it twitches between his and Johnny's bellies, not even the prickly shame in his stomach able to wilt his raging erection.

Johnny's rough hand spanks him again, calloused fingers sliding across his freckled skin to fist his cock. "Aye, wet and needy like a sow." The hand on his mouth moves down to grip his thick thigh, groping it before pressing down so Kyle's fingers are forced deeper into him. "Gonna be a good piggy and squeal fer us?"

Kyle pushes a second finger in and spreads them, the stretch punching a pained sound out of him. The preparation is quick and rough, they're showing him as much kindness as he shows Johnny. Shame continues to nibble on his system, but it's overshadowed by hungry twisted pleasure and need and before he knows it he's whimpering out a weak "Joh-Johnny-"

"Not good enough." Simon's punished by Johnny squeezing his fist. Pain races up his system, making him leak like a broken tap. "C'mon English, ah know yae can do better than that."

"Don't be mean." Kyle kisses Simon's shoulder, wiggling a third finger into him despite his body's best attempt to stop him. "Remember what Price said? We've got to be nice to the pigs." Without warning Kyle thrusts all three fingers in and out of Simon in a quick pace, knuckles dragging on his walls and occasionally bumping his prostate.

Simon shouts before he can help it, eyes screwing shut to keep the tears at bay. "There you go." Kyle coos, trying to see if he can wiggle in a fourth finger but to no avail. "You just needed a little encouragement." He pulls his fingers out, pulling a broken sob from Simon too, and throws MacTavish a grin. "He's ready for some fun,"

"Finally," Johnny growls, letting go of Simon's cock to shove two precum covered fingers into his mouth.

Simon bites down, desperate to get a bit of control back. It just makes something wild spark in Johnny's eyes. "Ooh, our wee piggy has some manner problems." Despite the pain he pushes deeper until Simon's choking, drool running down his chin.

He almost heaves when Johnny shows him a bit of mercy by pulling out. The shitty bathroom lights make the spit coating Johnny's fingers shine, and before it can dry he wets his cock with Simon's spit. Both hands grip his trembling thighs and lift him up enough to position Johnny's leaking head against his fluttering entrance. "Squeal for us piggy." Johnny orders, pulling him down.

Johnny's cock spears through him like a hot knife, forever carving a space in his untouched body just for Johnny. Pain races up his spine, turning to pleasure in his fucked up head. Simon throws his head back to heave a wet sob, insides clenching as his body struggles to figure out if it wants to push MacTavish out or draw him in deeper. It settles on the latter when a vein on his cock presses down on Simon's prostate, a weak vestige of a mewl leaping off his lips when Johnny fully settles inside him.

Johnny pauses to pant, looking at Simon's trembling body, feeling Simon leak against his stomach. He thought Simon looked hot in his policeman clothes, but he looks way better like this. "Got a pair o' lungs on yae piggy," Letting go of one thigh Johnny's hand settles on Simon's stomach; he can feel himself beneath the muscle, throbbing inside Simon's wet hot walls. "Can yae do that again?" With a wicket smirk Johnny snaps his hips up, fucking into Simon with the same rough pace as Simon does to him.

Kyle takes the time to appreciate the rough and broken sounds that leave Simon, before digging through his bag. "Try to hold him still Tav," Kyle says, pressing his front against Simon's back, grabbing his jaw to pull his face to the side.

"What fo-" Johnny pauses just long enough to see the lipstick and mascara in Kyle's hands. "-oh!" He laughs, slowing down until he's languidly grinding into Simon. "Yae want ta make 'im pretty for the rest of the lads?"

"Wouldn't be fair for him would it? Now hold still sweetie." Humiliation and arousal thrums though Simon's veins, made worse by the fact he tries his best to stay still as the mascara curler comes near his fluttering eyelids. He doesn't know why he feels proud when Kyle kisses him for getting his top lashes done, but the soft "Good sow," Kyle says has a light floaty feeling settling in his chest.

Kyle's done this so often he could apply the mascara blindfolded. Granted, he's never done it on someone who was being slowly bounced on Johnny's cock, but there's a first for everything and he's done pretty quickly. Then comes the lipstick, bright cherry red just like Simon's flushed face. "There you go," Kyle chuckles and pecks the corner of Simon's lip, smudging the lipstick he'd just applied.

"That's a pretty picture." Johnny whistles as he looks over Simon's makeup. A sharp buck of his hips ruins it as it forces a few tears to roll down Simon's cheeks and pull the mascara down with it. "Should send yae back to the precinct looking like that, you'd be a right hit." Not needing Simon to be still anymore Johnny grips his thighs and gets back to fucking into him like a bull. Despite how nice the sounds he tears from Simon are, he kisses him. Their kiss is sloppy and desperate, bright red lipstick smudging across Johnny's face as Simon's bounced on his cock.

"Or the bordello." Kyle suggests, stashing the makeup items back in his purse. "Did you know Simon? Your friends visit it often. Do you think they'd notice it was your piggy cunt they were fucking if we dressed you up all pretty?"

Simon clenches his teeth and shuts his eyes. Johnny flicks the crown of his cock and it forces him to focus. "N-no, no, no- they-" He tries to say, shaking his head as best he can with mascara running down his cheeks. "They wouldn't- wouldn't know."

"Yae sure?" Johnny laughs and cracks his palm down on Simon's ass, his palm starting to form a reddening imprint in Simon's skin. "Ah could put money they'd know, yae're too loose ta not have taken cock from one of yer buddies." Simon's hole clenches tightly; he wants to blame it on the stinging pain in his ass, but the pleasure of the stretch forces him to confront the idea he's had before — of being bent over the desk by his captain when he fucks up again and being forced to take it.

Kyle smirks as they both moan, stepping back just enough to start undoing the tuck. His outfit for that night didn't need him to be perfectly smooth, so it's an easy process, though it's made harder by his own erection and the sounds Simon makes. They're loose and desperate, bouncing off the shitty tiled walls, he's sure the people outside can hear how well they're treating the local pig.

Kyle gives his cock a few dry strokes to get him fully hard, before spitting on his hand.

Simon startles when Kyle presses against his back again, only now he can feel his cock poking his ass, the leaking head occasionally flicking against his stretched hole when Johnny draws back to thrust into him. "Wh-what-"

"You wouldn't want to leave me out of the fun would you?" Kyle teases, wet fingers slinking down to poke at his taut rim. "This is going to be a tight fit." He muses, putting just a bit of pressure while Johnny continues to thrust into him, trying to find an angle where his finger could slip in alongside Johnny's cock.

"Wait- wait- wait- wait-Hm!-" Simon yowls when his finger slips in, whole body shaking like a leaf. It's tight, he feels like like he will tear just from taking a breath too quickly. He whines, unable to string a sentence, insides clenching the best they can as Kyle wiggles his finger alongside Johnny's cock.

"Don't worry," Johnny smirks, fisting Simon's cock. "We'll teach yae how a proper sow ought to relax." He strokes him slowly, planting his feet firmly on the ground to grind into him, turning his attention on minutely shifting his hips until he can zero in on Simon's prostate. He knows when he finds it by the way a trickle of cum spurts from his tip, Simon's back arching as he moans like a whore. "This sloppy piggy hole will be taking more than just us after all. We need ta make sure yae can take them."

Simon bites his lip at the humiliating thought of taking more, of having his insides forced apart and molded to more than just Johnny's cock. Of being turned into a fucking fag whore he arrests on the street. His cock twitches.

"Careful Tav, he looks like he'll blow." Kyle laughs, both of them slowing so he can push a second finger alongside Johnny's cock.

They take their time stretching him out now; it's a maddening process reserved for the worst sinner in the deepest pit of Hell, stuck between them both and unable to do anything but take it, to just feel himself slowly stretch open more than he ever imagined he could, his muscles struggling to fight back yet burning with the need to be forced to submit. He tiptoes on the edge between absolute bliss and torture, so close to cumming but Johnny's clenched fist prevents him, his balls aching from how full the feel.

Finally he's deemed ready, by his own traitorous body no less. "Pl-please!" He cries like a child, head limply resting against Johnny's shoulder. "-pleas- fuck fuck fuck -I need-" He cuts himself off before the shame can devour him, but it's too late as the two sharks slowly pushing him to insanity smell blood.

"Look at that Kyle." Johnny laughs cruelly, biting a very obvious hickey high on Simon's neck. "One cock up his ass and the piggy's turned into a fuckin' slag." A few hickeys descend down his neck, Soap's teeth grinding down on his skin just as he grinds up to smush his cockhead against Simon's prostate. "Yae reckon the other pigs are so easy ta convert tae the Devil? Or did we just get our hands on a secret whore?"

Kyle ignores Simon's pathetic incoherent babbling, spitting on his palm to further lube his cock. "No clue Tav." He grins and presses his cockhead against the taught rim of Simon's ass. "But we can always find out."

Johnny stops to let Kyle slide in, holding Simon still as he clenches and writhes on his cock. The hardest part is getting Kyle's head in. Soap swallows down Simon's pained moans as Kyle continues to apply consistent pressure until Simon's taut muscles finally give in and his head pops inside. All of them hiss as Kyle slowly pushes in, taking numerous long breaks to kiss Simon's nape and let him get used to it before continuing, a hard battle fought against Simon's body for each agonizing inch.

Finally his balls rest against Simon's ass, all of them panting like race dogs.

Simon sobs against Johnny's shoulder with his whole chest. This feeling - the stretch to his limits, the fullness in his body, the pain, the pleasure - it's better than the highest high he's gotten with MacTavish bouncing on his cock. The raw feeling of them inside him gnaws on Simon, it chews him up and spits him out a pathetic desperate man who buries his head in Johnny's shoulder and tries his best to clench down on them.

He tries his best to feel more of that gluttonous pleasure, hips twitching weakly despite the pain sizzling his spine. "Look at you sweetheart, barely got in you and you already want more." Kyle coos, running a soothing hand down Simon's back.

Johnny moves first, thrusting up into Simon and drawing a wet moan from him. "Then what are ye waitin' for?" He grins, loosely stroking Simon as they both start to move. "Not going to get a better invitation than this."

Simon's incoherent by this point, drooling against Johnny's shoulder as the two men take their time ruining him for anyone else. Simon's swept up in the motions of one pulling out as the other thrusts into him, lungs stuttering in an attempt to draw precious breath needed to whine and moan. Johnny's hand rests flat on his stomach where both of their cocks have made a noticeable bump, the sight of it driving all of them madder with lust.

Simon comes first to no one's surprise, screaming with a hoarse throat and weakly spurting his arousal across Johnny's sheer shirt when both of their cocks slam into his prostate.

"Look at that, squealed like a little pig." Johnny laughs, his own voice ragged, skin wet with sweat. They cum soon after, slamming into him and filling him up with their cum. Simon can't help but groan, slumping forward to rest against Johnny, completely fucked out. His insides cramp painfully as every inch available space is filled by their collective cum, but there's so much of it that it trickles from out of him despite his hole's best attempt to squeeze down on them.

They take a moment to rest, sharing the same air. Johnny tilts his head to kiss Kyle, his mouth dry. "Not bad for a sow." He grins as they part, nibbling on Simon's ear. He's surprised how Simon hasn't passed out by now, his chest still trembling with half formed sobs, the pain and pleasure burning in his head so there's no ability for any thoughts to form.

They hear a man clear his throat in the stall next to theirs. "Hope you boys had your fun." It's Price, gruff voice made huskier by his obvious lust. There's a shuffling of clothing before his fat cock pushes through the hole made in the stall wall. His cockhead is an angry red color, veins bulging across his shaft and a little drop of pre beads at his tip — he's been edging for a while. "Care if I join?"

Simon lets out a drunk sound, turning his head enough to catch sight of the cock poking out through the glory hole. Both men feel him weakly clench around their softening cocks.

Johnny grins, "Not at all sir."

pins i think 80's/90's punk fag johnny mactavish would wear (from here, here)

#I need to lie down #this Johnny getting arrested by closeted power trip cop Simon #butch Kate runs the bar drag Kyle works at and scary bear John acts as the bouncer #he is obviously fucking cop Simon and so gets tipped off when they're due a raid #<-mhairi's ideas that im using #trinkets of the Hoard #bottom simon ghost riley #Ghoap #Simon ghost riley x John Soap MacTavish #Simon Ghost Riley x Kyle Gaz Garrick #Kyle gaz garrick x john soap Mactavish #john soap mactavish x kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #gay #im gay as fuck #gay smut #cod mlm #cod modern warfare #kyle garrick cod #kyle garrick #john soap mctavish smut #ghoap smut #ghoap x kyle gaz garrick #Gnome's Imagines #Listen idk how this happened #i just read cop simon and blacked out and when i woke up this was here #call of duty

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thegnomelord · 5 months ago

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This is a convo I had with Embry @embry-garrick about Soft Sub Gaz that I'll probably write a fic ab this after my exam ends. This is just my rambling

CW: Mentions of toxic relationships, Gaz experiencing a healthy relationship, slight NSFW at the end.

You meeting Gaz at a bar. Gaz had been freshly dumped by his ex, met the dude with some chick his ex was cheating on him with at the same party, and is just trying to get drunk. He has his standards so low he just wants to fuck and forget the night and his entire past relationship.

But also imagine being the bouncer who then gets flirted by drunk Gaz, saying how you two should go to his place as your shift is ending. You usually wouldn't fuck around with drunk people like this, but he looks like he needs someone to talk to so you take him back to his place as he's too drunk to get back on his own and you don't want him getting robbed or worse.

And Gaz in his drunken stupor tries to touch you up in the car, but you shoot him down. So Gaz is a bit hurt but still thinks he's gonna score some mindless bliss. So you lead him to the door and Gaz lets you in, thinking it's for sex, but you just sit him down on his bed and get him some water, telling him to offer again when he's sober and you're just there to listen if he needs it.

And Gaz ends up kinda crying about his relationship in his drunken stupor, probably passing out on top of you. Come morning he's waking up with the WORST hangover ever and only when he sees your phone number on a napkin on his bedside table next to a bottle of water and headache medication does he remember the fucking embarrassing night. He just lies in bed wanting it to swallow him whole at the thought of how he acted.

But then he calls you to meet up and apologize for the night. You two meet up at a coffee shop and what starts as a somewhat awkward conversation turns into like, you two spending 3-4 hours there just chatting. Gaz laughing at an unexpected joke and then wondering why his heart is beating so fast and feels like it's in his stomach.

Like it's not the frantic drumming his heart would do when he and his ex would fuck, that was similar to what it felt being in the battlefield. Being with you makes his heart beat in a fast but different way, like a bunch of cicadas are buzzing in his chest.

Him not used to them fancy dates without sex at the end looking at you weirdly when, after a date he prepared probably too long for, you walk him to his door and don't do more but a kiss on the cheek cause you can see how his body subconsciously gets more and more uncomfortable and tense with each step you two take towards the door.

But also, imagine soft sub Gaz getting ready to go back from his leave, feeling very uncomfortable thinking about leaving without telling you (Not to mention fearing getting cheated on while he's off shore) so you two meet up at the same coffee shop and he tells you that he's going back into duty. And his mind is kinda blown when, after another 3-4 hours of just random chatting, you end up driving him to the airport and kiss his forehead goodbye

Gaz accidentally telling the lads about you, and it only takes a few clever questions from Soap before Gaz is just full on gushing about you. But he vehemently states you two aren't together, you two are just... well he doesn't know what you two are, but you two aren't having sex, so it can't be boyfriends. Buuuuut he also spends too long of the time he has for sleep texting with you, and lowkey waits for the good morning text when you finally wake up.

Gaz periodically sending you sexy photos in his uniform (he's a good looking man, he knows it, and his exes all went wild for the soldier look and he won't admit it but he's scared of losing your interest) and you do say he looks hot but also ask him just to send you a selfie, just a picture of his face so you know he's still alive. And overtime he ends up sending more random selfies where he definitely doesn't look his best then those sexy photos he used to send his exes. Or you just send him some random things that remind you of him throughout his deployment.

Gaz being at that half giddy half scared stage where he wonders if you'll be waiting for him at the airport (He knows you said you would and you keep your word, but, again, his exes lied all the time) and him being surprised when you're there with those big signs with his name on it like some cliche romance movie.

And when you drive him home, you don't just drop him off and skip- no. You treat him like a kin; full five course meal of home cooked food, candlelight dinner and all, then a bubble bath that ends up with him giggling at the bath bombs shaped like donuts. And then when he's nice and relaxed you lay him down on the bed to give him a massage and shit you're good at it — Got him melting into the bed and dopey brained in minutes.

Oh and Gaz feels like he HAS to repay you with sex, it's not like his ex did anything for him for free without wanting something in return. But you're just comfortable laying down with him in the bed and watching the movie. I can definitely imagine him deciding to try this 'not toxic sex life' thing by just, while you two are cuddled up watching a movie, just lazily kissing you instead of trying to sneak a grope at your junk. Just Gaz kissing your temple or cheek and feeling light hearted when you turn your head to reciprocate.

Gaz wanting to try some lingerie for you but he's unsure - his ex always hated the idea, thought Gaz was supposed to be the dominant manly one cause he's the soldier. But he still tries it, even goes out to buy a nice pair of lingerie (says it's for his gf when he goes to buy it) and takes hours trying to decide if he should send the photo or nat. Chooses to send you one regardless and then turns his phone off cause he's kinda scared to see what you'll say. Then he's wonderfully surprised when he turns the phone on cause the curiosity is eating him alive, and finds all of your messages just complementing it.

Also Gaz who gets kinda bothered that you're not as demanding of sex as his ex was, that there's no 'passion' (in his eyes anyway, he's just not used to not being slapped around in the first five minutes of sex) in the bedroom so he thinks you're not into him or something. So he tries to purposely deny sex so you get pent up, like purposely sending you revealing pictures of himself but when you get home saying he's too tired or something

And he keeps getting more and more annoyed and has this tight bad feeling in his chest when you honor his words and don't engage after he says he's tired, in his mind it's like you don't find him attractive at all.

And like, imagine waking up in the middle of the night and he's slowly jerking off. You ask if he wants some help, but he acts a brat and says no but continues to stroke himself. You say you need to talk cause you don't understand why he keeps doing this and then not committing to have sex.

And it turns into a teary confession session but Kyle's so horny and pent up cause it didn't feel right jerking off without you there so you end up talking him through the masturbation session and when I say it's the hardest he's ever cum in his life (up to that point) I mean it.

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chelseeebe · 6 months ago

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too sweet (for me) p2

lines begin to blur between his two lives, eddie feels hopeless at any semblance of keeping you away from that side of him. how does he fair when murray drags you kicking and screaming into this world?

a/n: so perhaps this is a little dramatic and very soap opera-esque but it was so much fun to write! i have a little thing i’d like to write for a part 3 but it is very much domesticity and sadness so we’ll see hehe <3

read part one here.

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of drugs and crime references throughout. eddie munson x fem!reader

eddie lingers over your shoulder, catching glimpses of him in the mirror as you fluff your hair and pucker your lips. he likes to sit and watch you get ready, just like how he used to watch his mom when he was much younger.

“so where are you going tonight?” he queries, a hint of territoriality about his question.

you shrug, swiping the lipgloss over your lips, “probably ace’s.. i don’t know yet,” meeting his eyes through the mirror.

admittedly, it had been a tough few weeks. he shut down for a few days, restricted to his bed as you cleaned up the mess he brought home. you were just grateful to have eddie back, the colour slowly coming back to his face thanks to your gentle love.

“i’ll take you,” arms snaking around your waist, “unless you wanna stay?” peppering kisses to your neck, the sweet scents of your overzealous sprits of perfume overwhelming his nose.

you giggle, though you make zero effort to shake him off, “i’m going,” wrapping your hand around his arm to keep it from travelling any further up your dress.

a tiny sense of guilt hits your chest, he was still shaken by whatever had happened. you’d practically moved yourself into his apartment, taking care of him for weeks. he’d rarely been alone since the day he’d stumbled in here with bloody hands and a newfound stammer.

“okay,” he relents, “what time do you think you’ll be done? i’ll come and get you,” face nestled into the crook of your neck.

you wouldn’t put it past him to just wait outside for hours, ready and waiting to see you again.

“why don’t you just come? i’m sure the girls won’t mind.”

he shakes his head, planting one last kiss to your shoulder before letting go, “no no.. you have fun,” nodding, as if to assure himself that he’d be fine.

eddie drives you right to the door, ignoring the disgruntled bouncers trying to get him to move. “don’t do anything stupid, i’ll be here when you’re ready,” squeezing your knee as you gather your bag from the floor.

you lean over the leather console, pecking his lips, leaving a small smudge of glittery gloss as you go.

“yessir.. love you,” before clambering out of the car, knowing smile plastered across your face as the door shuts.

there had been a sense of uncertainty about saying it, though you’d felt it for a short while now. only solidified by the last couple of weeks and the newfound upset you felt to be leaving him. it was like all your feelings were merged into one, dread bundled together with excitement. a scary but otherwise comforting feeling.

he immediately rolls your window down, leaning forward to catch you properly, “what? what’d you say?”

you shrug, scampering off into the queue as he watches, mouth hung open in sheer shock.

what you didn’t know was that eddie had been toying with the same sentiment, adamant to not scare you away but otherwise desperate to tell you.

he pulls off, beaming from ear to ear, counting down the seconds until he sees you again.

you perch on the marble countertop, legs swinging as eddie accidentally brushes past for the thousandth time, hand lingering on your thigh for a few seconds too long. the pot threatening to boil over if he keeps neglecting it in lieu of you.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” he asks, resuming his position at the stovetop.

he’d carefully perfected his little chef routine, throwing god knows what into the pan as if he had any clue what he was doing.

“i just can’t believe that you’re cooking for me.. have you ever even used this kitchen before?” chuckling at him, wishing he had gone all out and worn an apron.

“what the hell are you talking about? i cook all the time,” smooth talking, attempting to distract you from the near burnt pan of food in front of him.

“i don’t believe you,” you tease, glancing wearily at your supposed dinner. knowing damn well that he’d be on his way to pick something up in the next half an hour.

he leaves his station, faux-angry stare on his face as he leans on your knees, “you won’t be having any of this if you’re gonna keep being rude.”

the buzzer interrupts before you can insult his skill, or lack thereof, any longer.

eddie frowns towards the door, “i’ll get it,” trying hard to palm the cooking onto you.

“no no,” you hop down from the counter, “you try not to burn anything else and i’ll get it,” already out of the kitchen before he can protest.

the door opens to a man you’ve never seen before, glasses and crazy hair accompanying his toothy grin. those two goons eddie has to babysit sometimes are stood behind, looking as foolish as ever with their hands over their chests.

“ah! just the woman i wanted to see,” he beams, pointing into the apartment, “can i come in?”

“i’m sorry- who are you?”

but before the maniacal man can answer, eddie begins from behind, “let him in,” voice full of regret, you had wished you’d never hear it again.

you open the door wider, watching as they file in to the apartment. dumb and dumber barely able to walk on their own two feet without tripping over each other.

your eyes meet eddie’s but you can’t place whatever it is he’s trying to say. a look of warning maybe, hesitance and slight fear in his usually soft eyes. you’d figured it was something to do with his work, maybe the scene you had walked into those few weeks ago.

“have a seat,” the man smiles, gesturing towards the sofa.

they sit strategically, boxing you into the empty seat in between those two idiots. forcing you apart, a twisted mind game you wanted no part of.

eddie looks wracked with worry, sitting in the empty seat next to the other man. you want to jump up, order them to leave and do this some other time.

“i’m murray,” the man announces, staring right into your soul, “i work with eddie here.. for.. what is it? seven years now?” thumping eddie on the back.

he nods, chewing on his lower lip, choosing to stare at the floorboards rather than you, which stings a little.

“anyway! i didn’t come to small talk, i’m sure you two are very busy with whatever it is you young people do in your free time,” murray scrunches his nose, returning his heavy gaze to you. “i have a problem, you see, i’m a salesman, i sell things and to sell things, i have to get my product to different places,” nodding along with his words.

your eyes flit between him and eddie, figuring out exactly what he was asking.

“so,” he begins again, leaning forward, elbows pressed to his knees, “i need you to take it there,” not looking at eddie or either of the two losers beside you.

you. he was looking at you.

eddie interjects, “no, absolutely not,” jaw clenched taut, his fists balled by his sides.

“i didn’t ask you,” murray spits back.

you can see eddie’s chest heaving, anger bubbling through his body.

“where?”

their eyes fall back to you, eddie blinking rapidly. it’s like he can’t believe you’d ever agree to something so stupid.

“well all you’d have to do is take.. a bag down to.. mexico.”

“-mexico?” eddie interrupts again, jumping forward in his seat.

murray’s face turns to confusion, “is that not what i said? jeff! is that not what i said?”

jeff nods along, “that’s what you said,” like a creepy puppet doll, obeying his master.

“she can’t.. mexico, murray? that’s too far-”

“and why can’t she, eddie?” turning to face your boyfriend, a stern glare plastered firmly on his face, “i’m not hearing any objections from her, so what’s your problem?”

eddie looks up, catching your eye, chewing on the inside of his cheek. he’s swallowing whatever objection he has contained on his tongue. but you’re not stupid.

you either do this or your life gets very complicated, you’d seen enough movies to know that men like murray don’t fuck around.

“okay,” you say meekly, holding eddie’s gaze in hope that he’ll understand, that he knows you well enough now to know that you’re agreeing for both of your sakes.

“great,” murray beams, “my cousin has an apartment down there, you can stay a few days.. enjoy the scenery, whatever i don’t care,” ignoring eddie’s huffs of defiance.

you don’t remember a lot of what he says next, talking about the drop and other insignificant details. eddie volunteers to head down before you, wait for you in mexico to ensure everything goes to plan, which you appreciate.

they get up to leave while you’re still sat weighing up your decision and how badly this could end. eddie walks them to the door, glad to see them gone.

murray yanks him out of the door, tight grip onto his arm, “you wanna buy her a nice shiny ring?” glowering directly into his face, “or a big house so you can knock her up a couple’a times before you give this all up? hmm?”

eddie swallows, adams apple bobbing nervously in his throat. but nods, because he does want that. it’s all he’s wanted since he met you.

“then you’ll do whatever i tell you to do, okay?” face only mere inches away, “this is how you get those things.”

eddie doesn’t say a word as he stomps back in, heading straight for his bedroom without so much as a glance toward you.

his cold shoulder cuts deep, wedging a lump into your throat. you did this for him, for both of you. it wasn’t as if you had much choice between going to mexico or losing eddie.

you creep into the silent room what felt like hours later, heart aching for just a hint of reassurance.

he’s sat on the bed, facing the window, back to the door. you don’t want to startle him but feel absolute desperation to talk to him.

“eddie?” speaking quietly into the room.

he sighs, shoulders relaxing at the sound of your voice.

“i’m sorry if i said the wrong thing.. i was just trying to help,” blinking away the sharp tears threatening to spill.

you linger in the doorway, wary of the thick cloud of tension that had settled over the apartment.

“i’m not.. angry at you,” standing at last, turning to face after an eternity apart. he slinks over, ashamed of his own actions, he had never wanted to make you feel like this. “i didn’t want you to get involved in all this shit,” shaking his head as he walks over, throwing his arms around your sunken shoulders, “i don’t wanna lose you.”

you rest your cheek on his chest, slinging your arms tight around his waist, “you’re not going to,” and you meant it.

- eddie’s pov -

eddie has nearly thrown up at least twenty times since he’d left you for the airport.

he was going to land in mexico a couple hours before you hopefully arrived.

the plane journey is long, his only thoughts being you. if you were safe. if you’d made it onto the plane or not. watching the clock, waiting to just land and be one step closer to knowing.

murray had swindled his friend into letting you stay at his place for a few days, a large villa not too far from the airport. it’s warm and he’s sweating through his clothes, dumping his bag on the floor without a care in the world.

stepping out onto the balcony and lighting a cigarette whilst simultaneously trying his hardest not to hyperventilate. you should be on the plane by now, somewhere 3000 miles above, safe and sound.

squishing all of the echoing thoughts of what if or the images of you in a cell somewhere in mexico. it does nothing for the churning in his stomach, tossing the half-finished cigarette off into the distance somewhere.

eddie is restless, buzzing around the house as he waits rather impatiently for you to waltz through the door.

you should be here by now. the blazing sun finally setting in the sky, though he’s still sweating.

the clock ticks loudly, as if it were taunting him. every second you’re not here, he descends further into his despair, heart pounding as he paces the creaking floorboards.

a short wrap at the door makes him jump but he wastes no time in answering it, throwing the door open to find a strangely docile and calm version of you. polar opposite to how he had spent the last few hours.

“oh my god,” breathing a sigh of relief, unable to stop himself from lifting you from the ground, spinning around the warm evening air as you shriek.

you’re still elevated when he puckers his lips, attacking any skin he could get ahold of. a chorus of high pitched squeals and giggles coming from above, sending his heart into a frenzy.

“put me down,” you order, whacking him on the back, right between the shoulder blades.

he does as he’s told, still clinging onto your waist, fearing you’ll just slip away again. he felt a thousand pounds lighter, to see you, hold you again after only a few hours.

“you’re okay? how was it? did anyone stop you?” going a million miles at once, keeping you at arms length as he examines your face.

“it was fine,” you chuckle, your nonchalance a little unsettling, “nobody even looked at me,” shrugging your shoulders as if you hadn’t just smuggled a kilo of cocaine over the border.

“jesus christ,” eddie exhales, cupping your cheek in his hand, “you’re not doing that again, i’ll kill him if he asks,” he thinks he might just kill him anyway. his heart had nearly given out a hundred times, hell would freeze over before he ever let murray do something so stupid again.

“okay okay,” you brush past eddie, fed up already of his incessant coddling, marvelling at the view outside the apartment.

he slings your bag over his shoulder, joining you at the window, “nice, isn’t it?” knocking his elbow gently into your side.

he’d already envisioned how he would have you bent over the balcony later.

“let’s go out tonight,” looking toward him with your sparkly eyes, “i want to celebrate not getting arrested.”

eddie’s head lulls to the side, trying to hide his disappointment. “do we have to?” grabbing your waist to pull you closer, brazenly attempting to get you to stay here.

“yes,” you order, palms flat on his chest, “if you love me, you’ll go.”

you’re squished into the tiny booth, legs draped over eddies thighs as people come and go all around. he’s not interested in anything else going on in the busy bar, just you.

sharing lazy kisses between drinks, his hand resting on your thigh, ever so slowly inching upwards.

eddie hadn’t even wanted to leave the house, hoping you’d spend three days fucking your way around the furniture.

instead, you’d somehow convinced him to go out. though he couldn’t resist when you stepped out with that tiny dress on, sitting perfectly on your hips.

your nose brushes against his, breathing in the thick air that sat between you. the room could very well be ablaze right now, but eddie wouldn’t even notice. too consumed with you, palming at the inside of your thigh as his eyes gaze into yours.

“‘m gonna get a drink,” he breathes, squeezing your thigh before shifting your legs back to the floor.

he dares to look back when he reaches the bar, eyes immediately drawn to the six foot something adonis now lingering by the booth.

eddie wasn’t particularly jealous or insecure, secure in the fact that you were his and nothing would change that. but he couldn’t help but let a little envy seep into his eyes.

a fire burning in his stomach at the sight of you chittering away to this stranger. you weren’t a stranger to attention, not one to shy away. so why should you now?

he grits his teeth on the walk back over, grip tightening around the glasses, prepared to smash them over this pricks head.

“who’s this?” painting on his fakest smile, sliding back into the booth next to you.

you glance at eddie, just long enough for him to see that terrible glint in your eye. preparing for trouble.

“this is..” reaching out for the strangers arm, “sorry, what was your name again?” batting your lashes, an act eddie was used to and yet, still detested.

“alejandro,” the man purrs, taking your hand in his.

eddie resists the urge to jump across the table and wring his neck. biting on his cheek rather than letting what he really wants to say out.

“alejandro,” you echo, all starry eyed.

he’s not going to play up to it, well aware that you don’t actually give a shit about the chiseled man. you just want a reaction from eddie, maybe throw his weight around a little so you could reward him later.

you look back at eddie, pouting a little when he doesn’t give you what you want. confusion plagues your expression before you quickly drop the man’s hand, displeased with the reaction, or lack thereof, you had been given so far.

“it was nice to meet you,” eddie nods, shooing him away without so much as a look at you.

he slinks away, leaving the two of you sat in uncomfortable silence. taking careful sips of his drink, calculating his next move as he was sure you would also be doing.

“d’you wanna go home?” you pry, attempting to snake your arm around his though he doesn’t budge.

“do you?”

your eyes flash with hurt only momentarily until a lightbulb flickers and you realise getting him home means one step closer to getting what you’re fiending after.

“yeah.”

eddie nods, standing from the booth, “lets go then,” more so barking his order rather than asking.

and you’d follow along like a dumb little dog because the result was always always worth the temporary wait.

eddie’s a smart man, at least sometimes.

he’s wise to your games and refuses to rise to it. flopping onto the bed, watching as you dance around the room, antsy and eager for his reaction.

his hands are itching to touch you, enjoying every last second of you flitting about, the anxious eye contact as you get ready for bed.

you’ve just about had enough when he doesn’t react to your new pyjamas. not even a nod of acknowledgement. nada. nothing.

“eds,” you huff, jutting your bottom lip out as far as it’ll go, “is that it? you’re not even gonna talk to me?”

he pulls his eyes from the window, containing his smirk. you’re putty in his hands and you don’t even know it, falling right into his trap.

“what? i’m talking to you right now?”

the mattress dips as you climb on top, “you’re being weird.”

“i’m not being weird?”

your nostrils flare, tired of his silly little act. taking matters into your own hands by clambering onto his lap, perching atop of his thighs.

“stop being a dick and touch me,” you pout, practically begging for an inch of his attention. your hands grab onto his, placing them on your waist in an attempt to make him do something.

eddie weighs up his options, deciding that pushing your buttons one last time would make everything all the more worthwhile.

he lets his arms flop back into the bed, sighing softly, “baby, i’m tired,” jutting his chin to the sky, urging himself to not just toss you onto the bed and pound you into the mattress.

he hadn’t anticipated your reaction, climbing from his legs to stand beside him, “maybe alejandro would touch me,” you spit, turning to stomp out of the room as if he wouldn’t chase you to the ends of the earth.

eddie jumps up, bounding after you to grab your waist, pulling you back toward the bed with a squeak.

“too fuckin’ bad he’s not going to then, isn’t it?” pinning you between his body and the mattress. “you gonna stop being a little bitch?”

he hates that you’re not even mad, wild eyes glinting in the dim light, as you nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

“huh? you gone shy on me all of a sudden?”

your head shakes, stars in your eyes and absolutely any thought drained from your pretty little head. “beg for it,” he barks, nose just barely brushing against yours.

“please,” you gulp, fire burning in your stomach, at mercy to his touch.

eddie stands up straight, pulling your body down the bed by the legs, hips banging against your heat, groaning at the contact.

“hmm,” he hums, manoeuvring your thighs onto his shoulders, “i can’t hear you sweetheart,” palming at the doughy skin as his hands trail upwards.

“please eddie,” you whine, guiding his hands back down, aching for them to slide between your legs. “i need you,” rutting your hips with every grope and grab he allows.

his boxers strain against your silky pyjama shorts, the utter desperation dripping from your throat makes him crazy, electricity buzzing through his bloodstream.

he’s addicted to you. the way you feel, the way you smell, the way your body keens and melts for him.

“fuck,” lips vibrating against your neck, “stop playing those stupid games with me,” though quite honestly, he did enjoy the little chase routine you guys had curated.

you nod, arching your hips to allow him to slip your shorts down, working them down and off onto the floor. his hands slithering back up over the soft skin until his hand rests comfortably on your thigh.

eddie would love to toy around with you a little bit longer but his dick was starting to ache against his boxers with every not-so-subtle move of your hips.

he stands up straight, tugging the cotton down his thighs, the elastic resting just beneath his heavy balls.

his fingers slide between your slick folds, disappearing inside your cunt, pulling the strangled moan from your lips with every dip of his fingers.

“look at you,” he purrs, though he knows you’ll make no effort to actually look, “so pretty for me,” admiring your pussy, pupils near enough heart shaped.

his knees dig into the mattress, hovering above as his fingers grip onto your hips, sinking in to your cunt with a hoarse groan.

you cry out, grateful for him giving you what you had begged for at long last. hands flailing about for something to grab, fingers twisting around the soft cotton blanket, pulling the sheets from the bed.

eddie’s hands roam all over, palming your breasts and then back down to your calves, keeping them firmly balanced on his chest.

“fuck baby,” he coos, forcing himself to go slow, savour the feeling. you’re insatiable like this, sprawled out on the mattress, head thrown back, full of nothing.

hand disappearing between your legs as his thumb circles your neglected clit, watchful eyes lapping up your every move your body makes in response to him.

he’d never believed in all that soulmate shit before meeting you but now he couldn’t fathom the idea of ever being with anyone other than you. two people made to fit together by some grace of god.

your thighs cramp around his wrist, keeping his hand firmly there while you writhe around.

your eyes squeeze shut, eddie can already feel you clench around him, “you gonna cum already?” he teases, what kind of boyfriend would he be if not to mock you.

“n-no,” you gasp, fingers intertwined with the white sheets surrounding your head.

the headboard knocks gently against the wall with every thrust of his hips, the cool midnight breeze seeping in through the open window though it does nothing to stop eddie’s brow from sweating.

you snap, coming undone all around him, melodic moans filling the room, somewhere tangled between his low grunts and the filthy sounds of your bodies meeting.

“good girl,” he coos, reaching up to hold your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look up at him.

your eyes glossy with tears, lips puffy and swollen when your hand wraps around his wrist, struggling to hold eye contact as his thrusts continue.

biting down on your bottom lip, becoming a puddle of nothingness right before his eyes.

“sh-shit,” you mewl, his thumb still circling your clit, pulling you straight back to orgasm.

eddie leans over, pressing his dripping chest to yours as his hand slinks down to your neck, loosely squeezing the skin all while your lips meet in a hazy, messy kiss.

“one more.. for me,” he pants into your mouth, burying himself inside of your cunt, filled to the hilt.

only responding with a drawn out wail, clinging onto his cheeks for a little levity. his cock nudging your sweet spot. tipping you closer and closer to the edge once more.

“fu-uck,” you pant, sucking on his bottom lip. he can feel you tighten around him, thighs drawing him in. “cum in me,” babbling nonsense into his mouth.

there’s no way he can think clearly, too utterly lovesick with your pussy for any critical thought to seep in. it was a bad idea, his gut told him as much.

but at the end of it all, he’d give you what you wanted. no matter what.

“you want that? hmm?” breathing through his teeth.

your head nods enthusiastically, bleary eyes meeting again, sweat mixing with your tears of overstimulation and exhaustion.

disgusting and erotic all at once.

eddie can feel your legs begin to quiver around him, pretty little mouth falling slack, threatening to swallow him whole.

“ohmygod,” you rush, chest heaving rapidly as your eyes flutter shut.

eddie near enough chokes on the thick air, a pitiful final few thrusts before filling your cunt. a decision he’d regret in the morning but made perfect sense for right now.

he grunts, the air knocked from his lungs at the immense, earth-shattering feel of you and your body enveloping him.

tendrils of his hair come loose from the haphazard bun he had thrown up, covering your pretty, dewy face.

“‘s that what you wanted?” balancing carefully on his elbows, carefully brushing your hair from your sticky forehead.

“yes,” grinning wearily, your hand gentle as it now lay on his cheek.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, y’know?”

“mhm,” you hum in agreement, fingers delicately weaving into his hair, “just don’t die before we get married.”

his smile fades, fingers poised as they tuck your hair behind your ear, “are you saying you wanna get married?” completely prepared to slide down onto one knee right here and now.

your nail traces carefully over the scar on his cheek, gazing lovingly into his eyes, “obviously,” pausing momentarily, “you still have to ask me properly though.”

eddie’s laugh bubbles over, burying his face into your chest, wondering how long after this conversation he’d have to wait to ask and just how much he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life right here, next to you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

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ghcstao3 · 10 months ago

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tough, grumpy, takes-no-shit bouncer ghost and charming, outgoing, generally cheerful bartender soap who flirts with everyone but only has eyes for the closed-off bouncer.

some girls and guys have tried flirting their way past ghost whenever they get in trouble with a fake i.d. or have been previously thrown out, but it never succeeds. he would never budge so easily.

but then there’s soap who, whenever on his way in for a shift, always stands on his tiptoes to kiss ghost on the cheek before going inside, leaving the usually-stoic bouncer speechless and praying no one notices his blush.

every shift they’re both working, it’s like clockwork. everyone wonders how ghost hasn’t wrung soap’s neck for it yet.

soap is just hopeful waiting on the day that ghost maybe, just maybe, starts to flirt back.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe

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tradgedyinwaves · 1 month ago

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i think an interesting idea is simon distancing himself from reader (wife, partner, spouse , etc) because of Soaps death and it just causing an absolute rift in their relationship. He doesn’t want to be hurt by being close to anyone, but your still try to keep your relationship and doing all the work until you just snap

LOVE YOUR FICS AND HEADCANONS BTW sending love 💕

AHHHHHHHH! My first ANON! Love and mushrooms to you, my dear!

I love this idea and it spoke to me on a personal level. Thank you for suggesting this. Also made me have to do some research on Scottish funeral traditions.

Simon had been the one to stand guard over Johnny’s body during the week long wake watching, only allowing someone else to take up the mantel when he needed to use the restroom. You brought him food and water, insisted he let someone else take over so he could get a little sleep, but he never let you sway him.

He didn’t cry or mourn. He just…shut down. He went through the motions. Kissing you when you left for work, a mumbled “love you too” at the end of a call, sharing your bed but never touching you.

You put in the work. Texting him know when you’d be late, cooking dinner, supplying him with endless whiskey, and letting him know you were there for him when he was ready. You even went so far as offering your body to use in an effort to get anything out of him, but it didn’t work. Nothing did.

When he starting sleeping on the couch most nights, you found yourself with wet pillows and the blanket curled around you in an effort to mimic the way his body would keep you warm at night. You missed your boyfriend and it never seemed to get better.

A year later and you finally hit your breaking point when he left on a deployment without telling you and wouldn’t answer your calls or texts. It required a call to Price to see what was going on. He confirmed that they were shipping out for a week, and you muttered a thanks before ending the call. Price’s eyes narrowed on his lieutenant before flipping back to his phone with a sigh.

When Simon returned and stepped over the threshold of your shared flat, he found it empty with a note on the table.

“Staying with Julia. Be back soon.”

No date. No signature. He tried your phone and you let it ring out to voicemail. Ignored his texts while you and Julia sipped girly drinks in the VIP section of a high class club that a friend of Julia’s had gotten you into. Maybe a little drinking would let you loosen up and forget your troubles for a while.

When Simon showed up halfway through your third cosmopolitan, you could hardly believe it. One, because he never showed up to anything outside of work. Two, this wasn’t a place you normally went to and you wondered how he managed to find you. Probably a tracker of some sort if you knew the man at all.

Even the bouncers didn’t stop him as he entered the VIP area and wrapped his gloved hand around your arm and hauled you from the seat, dragging you outside while you tried to escape his grasp and Julia yelled drunkenly for him to stop. He tossed you in the car and you fumed the entire way home, tears of anger silently slipping down your cheeks.

You tried to slam the door in his face as you entered the flat, his palm stopping the swinging wood from smacking him.

“How dare you? You think you can just show up and drag me out of there like I belong to you?!” “You do.” The audacity he had in even uttering those two words to you made you snap.

“The hell I do! It’s been a year of you ignoring me and treating me like I don’t matter! And you just come home from deployment and suddenly, you think you can lay any kind of claim to me?!”

You ripped open the closet door, pulling down your suitcase and began stuffing it with your clothes. The one suitcase wouldn’t be enough for all of your things, but it would be enough for a week.

“Luv, please. I’m sorry. I-I’ll do better.” His voice sounded raw, cracking with emotion he rarely showed. It almost made you falter in your rage. Almost.

“No, Simon. You don’t get to be sorry. I was there. You weren’t the only one who lost him, but you’re the only one who hasn’t moved on.” Your words were harsh, mean almost, but they rang true. Even Johnny’s sister had moved on, honoring him in naming her son after the boisterous Scot.

“I can’t keep waiting around for you to come back to me. I’m done, Simon.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #Simon ghost #simon riley angst #call of duty x reader #cod angst #ghost angst #cod x reader #tradgedyinwaves #tradgedyasks

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 9 months ago

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Open Mic Night

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Soldier Boy and the reader go to a bar on a double date with Hughie and Annie. This takes place beyond season three in alternate universe. Reader is a supe. This technically takes place in my series "Take A Chance On Me," after Soldier Boy and the reader have become a couple, but can be read as stand alone. (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Fluff, Age Difference, Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Established Relationship

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ just to be sure because this fic contains dude being super creepy and sleazy, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, references to past sex, and Soldier Boy. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. This is my first time writing for Soldier Boy, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Masterlist

Take A Chance On Me Series Masterlist

*********************************************************

Music swung low and heavy over the crowded bar from the band on the stage that dominated the central wall of the building. Speakers stood like stoic watchmen, thumping and blasting the haunting music on each side of the stage. Spotlights stung the air, spewing colors of orange, yellow, and green onto the figures that writhed on stage.

It was open mic night. That much was inferred from the collection of mismatched people swarming the edge of the stage where a bouncer stood holding a black clip board.

Each one pushed and shoved, trying to shout over the death march ballad flowing from the lead singers mouth and threatening one another with musical instruments clutched in their hands.

The song is an odd choice. You thought to yourself noting the outfit of the lead singer. He was wearing a bright red and yellow pinstriped suit that clashed with bright pink hair that fell past his waist and was braided away from his face.

How does it not get caught in his guitar?

You were still standing just inside the doorway, staring beyond Hughie to watch the lead singer gyrate and writhe against the standing microphone.

You glance over at Ben. He’s hovering by your right elbow, mouth turned down in disgust, but even frowning he looks just as handsome as ever. His dark hair lies in soft waves over his brow, he trimmed his beard so that it’s more of a dusting over his cheeks and chin, he’s wearing a black t-shirt that makes his eyes a dangerous bright green and a pair of jeans slung low on his hips. Even without his suit he looks flawless, every bit the hero that people believed him to be.

“I don’t understand music nowadays.” Ben continues to stare at the lead singer. "It used to make sense."

“Isn’t he talented?” You laugh elbowing Ben in the side. “Aren’t you glad we let Annie pick the place?”

“I definitely am.” Hughie responds. “I think my life has been enriched by watching that man hump the microphone.”

“Oh definitely.” Annie adds.

“Do you think he’d sign my butt?” You ask enthusiastically. “I carry a sharpie with me at all times just for this possibility.”

“Y/n-“ Annie snorts.

“What?” Ben snaps, turning to look down at you. His eyes are narrowed in jealousy and confusion.

“I’m only kidding Gramps.” Your hand entwines with his. “You’re the only one who gets to see it.”

He doesn’t look pleased, but the nickname you assigned him when you first met often makes him angry.

"Don't fucking call me that." Ben mutters.

“You know you love it.” You whisper back.

“Ew. So don’t need that image-“ Hughie makes a face.

“I don’t need to hear it from you. When we all lived in that safe house and you and Annie had ‘alone time’ I wanted to wash my ears out with soap. Y’all could at least have gone to a room on the other side of the apartment, not to mention Annie took out the power every time.”

“You have super hearing Y/n.” Annie’s face flushes. “And you and Ben weren't exactly quiet either.”

"I won't apologize for that." You shrug.

Someone comes in the double doors behind you and jostles past you. You stumble into Ben’s chest, who steadies you with a hand on your waist. The man doesn't turn around to apologize, instead he continues to walk towards the giant wooden bar on the left side of the room.

You ignore the urge to haul him back by the back of the shirt and make him apologize and one look up at Ben lets you know that he's thinking the exact same thing.

Ben watches the man’s retreating figure murderously and opens his mouth, but before he yells something, you squeeze his hand. Ben's gaze drops to you, anger burning behind his green eyes.

“It’s okay. It’s busy and there’s a lot of people. It happens.” You whisper trying to bring him some comfort.

He wasn’t exactly thrilled about the double date. It wasn’t that he hated Hughie or Annie, you think it was because after a long day he’d rather spend time with you than keep up appearances. When Annie suggested it, it had seemed like a good idea but now standing here in the overcrowded bar it was overwhelming. Ben and you had been on dates just the two of you in a bar before, but it wasn’t nearly as loud or as crowded as this one. You spent the night in one of the quiet booths in the corner, his arm wrapped around you while you listened to the music coming from the juke box, music that Ben actually recognized. Sometimes you think he liked quiet restaurants more, where he could breathe, and relax in a booth next to you. You think being around too many people activated his PTSD.

Ben frowns, but tightens his hand on your hip.

Sometimes you thought that you being there helped. As much as Ben didn't like to admit his feelings, you noticed that his actions spoke more. The way that he let you hold on to his arm or the way that his hand often drifted to your waist when in public made you believe that Ben did depend on having you with him. Plus he never seemed to want to let you go out of the apartment alone. Even with something as mundane as grocery shopping, Ben would come with you. And despite him sighing each time you walked down an aisle and complaining under his breath, Ben wouldn't stay at the apartment when you told him to.

Plus there were the mornings when you woke up before him and noticed how he pulled you to him in his sleep or the mornings when he woke up first and didn’t push you away, instead he liked having your head on his chest watching your gentle breath.

However, the look in his eyes as he gazed around the room at the crowd was not calm or collected, it was bordering on manic. He looked almost like he wanted to pick you up and move you to the corner, caging you in and fighting off anybody who tried to get close to you.

“Hey we are going to go get drinks. Why don’t you guys find us a place to sit?” You say to Annie.

Maybe I need to talk to him alone.

“Sure.” She doesn’t sense Ben’s discomfort and pulls Hughie in the direction of an empty booth that lines the wall opposite the bar.

You gently lead Ben through the crowds, past the bar to a small alcove where the restrooms are.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Yeah?" Ben raises his eyebrow and you can imagine his thoughts.

Probably revolving around the idea that he's not a pussy and that he's not afraid of anything.

Sometimes you hated that Ben was so guarded and that his usual emotions circled around borderline toxic masculinity, annoyance, and anger. Well, until you started dating. At the beginning Ben had been nicer to you than anyone else, which meant those three emotions appeared less when you were around. But now, you were slowly coaxing him out of his tough exterior to get him to open up more, difficult, but not impossible.

You knew it was only a matter of time until he opened up more to you. In the few months you had been dating he was already doing better than when you first met- when there was a constant parade of women through the apartment and he tried his upmost to get in your pants.

“Because if you’re not we can leave right now. I can tell Annie that I’m having bad cramps or something and we can go home. Get a pizza delivered or something? Watch one of your old films?” You look into his face, trying to read his expression, but Ben has mastered the art of hiding his emotions. An infuriating skill, because you prided yourself on being able to read people.

“I’m fine.”

“Ben-“

“I promise I’m fucking fine.” He snaps. His broad figure blocks the view of the singer on stage who has begun to gyrate again.

You hoped the song would be over soon.

Despite his tone, it didn't make you angry. You knew that he tended to slip into annoyance when he was afraid to tell you what he really thought.

He doesn’t look fine. His eyebrows are pulled down low over his eyes and his mouth is turned down in a frown.

“I’m serious. I won’t be mad if you just want to go home, just the two of us. Being out is supposed to be fun and if you’re not having fun-“

“I swear I’m having as much fucking fun as I can listening to terrible music.” He doesn’t smile.

You release his hand and your fingertips raise to brush back some of his dark locks that have fallen into his eyes. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I love you-“

He sighs leaning into your touch.

“I know you think that you have to do this for me, but I’m okay with just going. I know you don’t like crowds or people.” You smile at him, putting as much love and comfort as you can into your tone.

“I’m okay y/n.”

You search his gaze for the lie, trying to uncover how he feels, but you find nothing. “Okay.”

You arch upwards to kiss him hoping that it will relieve some of the tension he was holding in his muscular shoulders.

To say it works is an understatement. As soon as your lips touch his, he backs you against the wall and continues to kiss you feverishly, his hand finding your waist.

I guess that’s one way to channel all that nervous energy.

Ben’s hand begins to sweep lower along your back to grab your butt and bring your leg up over his hip, holding you up against him so you don't have to stretch as far to kiss him. It makes you smile into his mouth, knowing that he was doing that for you, that he cared enough to make sure you were comfortable.

“Ben-“ You breathe.

“What?” He smirks at you. “Didn’t you want me to have a good time?”

“Well yes but-“

“You aren’t having a good time?”

“Ben-"

“No? I think I can make you have a good time, a few times before Hughie and Annie notice we're gone.” He begins to nudge you backward in the direction of the bathroom.

“No.” You giggle pushing against his muscular chest, but he doesn’t move.

“Come on doll. Don’t you want me to enjoy myself?” Ben pouts, before bringing his lips down to your ear. "I definitely think you'd enjoy yourself." A shiver travels down your spine. "That's my girl." He smirks, as he begins to kiss your neck again.

“Ben, I do want you to enjoy yourself, but I also don't want to have a good time in the bathroom at a bar.”

“Didn’t stop us last time.” He arches a brow.

“That was much cleaner and we weren’t at a bar with two of our friends.”

Ben frowns at you.

“How about you get me a little drunk, we dance for a bit, and then you get to take me home.” You press a kiss just under his ear, tangling your hands in his hair.

“Or we go into the bathroom for 10 minutes then you get me drunk enough to dance and then you get to take me home.” His hand tightens just under your thigh, rubbing his thumb against your soft jeans.

“Ben.”

“You know you want to.” He grins wolfishly. “Have I told you how sexy you look?”

He didn’t have to say it. You were wearing a green top that showed a little more cleavage than usual and your best pair of jeans that hugged your curves. The same pair of jeans that usually made Ben handsy. You had also spent an inordinate amount of time curling your hair before you left the apartment. Plus the green was exactly the same color as his suit, something that Ben loved was when you wore his color or his clothes.

“You have, several times. And I do, but please I don’t want to when our friends are out there waiting for us.”

He sighs, knowing that he’s lost. “Fine.”

Ben reluctantly lowers your legs to the ground, but you kiss him gently on the mouth to kiss away the frown that replaces the seductive smirk he had moments ago.

“Go on. I’m going to go to the bathroom.” He steps around you.

“What?”

“I have to take a piss. Go on get the drinks. I’m gonna need a lot of them to get through that fucking music.”

“Beer?”

“Beer and a whiskey.” Ben winks as he closes the door behind him.

You take in a deep breath to cool down from whatever almost happened, but you saw your ability to say no as a personal victory. Ben was usually able to coax you into doing whatever he wanted.

You hate how easily he won.

You begin the slow trek back to the bar, weaving in and out of the people trying to get closer to the stage or just dancing along to the music. The previous band was gone, replaced by a man wearing a fedora and playing a saxophone. The melody was smooth, and reminded you of what you father used to listen to on long days after work.

Ben would like this song. You think to yourself. You suddenly wished that he was here so he could hold you and sway along to the music, but you knew that getting drinks was equally important.

It would probably take at least two glasses of whiskey to get him out on the dance floor.

You maneuver yourself between two people sitting on stools to talk directly to the bartender. “Hey can I get four bottles of beer and a whiskey.”

“What kind?” The bartender is a blonde girl, pretty, only a few years older than you, dressed in an electric green top and mini skirt.

“Do you have anything that’s really old?” You never got what kind of whiskey Ben liked, just that he often complained that the older stuff was better.

It was a common opinion he voiced.

“Yeah but it’s pricy.” She shrugs

“That’s fine.” You pull Ben’s debit card out of your pocket.

You thought it was weird to use his card, but he kept telling you to even though you didn’t have a shared bank account. One time you tried to pay him back, but he wouldn’t let you and said that it was the man's job to pay for everything.

Another time you tried to pay for dinner and he told you not to worry. But you still felt guilty.

Sometimes you felt like a sugar baby. Given the age difference, it was closer to reality than you would have liked.

You were living together, well, Ben lived in your apartment. He kept talking about moving to a nicer apartment and as much as you wanted to, one day you found him looking at apartments that were worth more than seven times the monthly rent that you were paying currently.

You were going to see one in a few days, but you still hadn’t admitted to him that you didn’t think you could afford it. The only thing that stopped you was how excited he got about going, about moving in officially together in a new apartment that you didn't want to say no. Seeing him excited about something so domestic warmed your heart.

You didn’t know how much money he had, you just knew it was more than you given the fact that he was such a big hero and that he used to be in movies.

You hadn’t had a solid job since you started working for Butcher, who would give you some money under the table but who knows where he got that. You had some money that you inherited from your parents when they died, but other than that, nothing. An unwelcome thought, given the indestructible nature of your powers, which meant there was the possibility you would live forever.

I’m gonna have to start budgeting better.

The bartender turns to look for the drinks, while you lean forward on the bar, closing your eyes to listen to the smooth jazz that floats over the crowd.

Someone’s hand slides down your back and grips your butt.

You snort, not opening your eyes. “Ben I thought I told you-“ You turn around to look at who you thought was Ben, but freeze when you realize it’s the pink haired singer from before.

“Hey baby.” The man smiles tightening his grip on your butt. “I saw you admiring me, thought I’d come say hello.”

“Um. Yeah. That didn’t happen, now can you please take your hand off my ass?” You ask forcing your voice into a cool collected tone.

“I think it did.” He doesn’t remove it, in fact he moves further into you, to pin you against the bar. “Did you like my song?”

“No.”

One word answers usually were a good way of telling people that you weren’t interested, but this man didn't seem to understand that.

“Aww that’s too bad. I’ve got a few others that I can show you. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?”

“We’ll see that’s the thing. I’m not alone and I’m going to ask you nicely one more time to fuck off before I break your arm.”

“A little thing like you do that? Come on baby let’s be serious.”

By now every time he said little your eye twitched aggressively. You did a good job of pretending you weren't a supe on your days off. You hid really well in a crowd, a skill that helped you evade Homelander and Vought more than once. Of course it had its annoyances as well. Case and point.

“Trust me. Me breaking your arm is much better than the alternative.”

I should get rid of him before Ben gets out here. That will definitely not end well if he sees this guy.

“What’s the alternative?” He oozes moving so close to your face that you can smell the stale alcohol on his breath.

“Well-“

The man is snapped upwards away from you and into the air.

Ben looks murderous. His usually bright green eyes have hardened into an emerald, his smile turned into a snarl. He’s holding the man by the front of his brightly striped suit, two feet off the ground, so close that Ben’s nose is almost brushing his.

“The alternative-“ Ben’s voice is a growl. “Is that I break your fucking face for touching my girlfriend.”

Why does he look so hot when he’s angry? You sigh to yourself, admiring the way his muscles tense under his black t-shirt as he holds the guy and how the shirt pulls up just enough for you to see the top of his hip where his low hanging blue jeans have fallen.

There’s something wrong with me.

“Whoa man I’m sorry I didn’t know she was yours.” The man stutters, holding on to Ben’s wrists where he still holds him in the air.

Ben is easily a foot taller than him and broader by a mile. Gazing down at him with enough hatred to make the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

As much as you liked Ben like this, you knew you had to do something before Ben killed him. Because as much as he deserved a good beating, the man didn’t deserve to die.

“Ben put him down.” You say.

“No.”

“Ben please.” You put your hand on his muscular shoulder, feeling the heat of his skin beneath the palm of your hand. “It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it.”

“But you are-“ His teeth are gritted together when he looks at you, green eyes blazing in fury. “He shouldn’t have touched you.”

“No he shouldn’t. But he doesn’t deserve to lose his life just because he felt up the wrong person in a bar.”

Ben’s jaw is locked together, nostrils flaring, but even you know that somewhere deep down he knows you're right. He turns his head to look back at the man. “You’re lucky that she’s more forgiving than I am.” Ben drops the man, who lands in a lump on the floor and turns to look at you.

Ben doesn’t look happy, but he still takes your hand, preparing to shuffle you towards where Annie and Hughie are watching in horror.

But before Ben can say anything the man on the ground rolls to his feet, more gracefully than you would have guessed and lunges at Ben a small knife gripped in his left hand.

He really doesn’t know when to quit.

Although you know that a small knife will do little to Ben other than piss him off, you react. Before he can reach Ben, your free hand flashes out, fastening around the man's left wrist and you pull his arm behind him at an unnatural angle. His arm jolts, the sharp snap of bone overshadows the jazz music, and the man falls to the ground clutching his ruined arm to his chest with a broken cry. All of this happens within five seconds, too fast for a normal person to see.

“Told you I would break your arm.” You say, pulling Ben away before he can do anything worse to him.

“What happened?” Annie asks eyes wide.

“Total jerk at the bar. I ordered drinks but I think it’ll be better if Ben and I leave.” You glance over at the bartender who is talking to the bouncer and gesturing over at you and Ben. “I already paid so y’all enjoy yourselves.”

“Wait y/n we’ll come with you-“ Hughie says. His arm is draped around Annie’s shoulders where they sit in the booth. You think about letting them come with you, but they look so comfortable and they should enjoy their day off.

“No it’s okay.” You squeeze Ben’s hand. “I’m kinda wiped from today anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Annie asks.

“Yeah.” You nod once, before smiling wide at Annie and Hughie. “Let me know if you find the next Billy Joel.”

“There can only be one!” Hughie shouts as Ben and you weave through the bar goers to avoid the bouncer.

When you finally get outside and start towards home, Ben finally speaks.

“We didn’t have to leave.” He’s still holding your hand tightly, but you can feel the heat of his anger stirring beneath the skin.

“Yes we did. The bouncer was coming.” You stop walking and turn to look up at him. “Plus. I thought it was incredibly hot that you went all Soldier Boy on that guy’s ass to defend my honor.” Your hand drags against his muscular chest, mouth turning up in a sexy smile.

“Oh did you? Because here I thought that you were angry. And that you were going to yell at me for not letting you handle it.” He tugs you forward so that your chests are pressed against one another.

“Nope. Why do you think we had to leave? I want to get you home asap.”

He runs his free hand through your hair, fastening it behind your head, to pull you against him for a searing kiss. “You know, I also thought it was pretty hot when you broke that guy's arm.” Ben whispers against your lips.

“Wouldn’t have expected anything less. Now let’s go home so I can thank you properly.”

****************************************

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for the Take A Chance On Me Series, please let me know :)

If you liked this fic, be sure to try out my other series You Call It Madness But I Call It Love!

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fluff #the boys #the boys fanfic #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys tv #the boys amazon #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy/ben

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kitkatscabinet · 1 year ago

Text

Whumptober - 07: Drugged

John Mactavish x f! reader

A/N: For @bunnyreaper here's the whump version, sorry it took so long, hope you like it <3

Soap knows that something’s wrong the moment you call him. You drunk calling him wasn’t exactly out of the norm, in fact, it was weird if you didn’t spam him with texts and tik toks letting him know how much you loved him.

His team often sledged him jokingly for how whipped he was for you, but it was that adoration and care that let him know within seconds that you weren’t okay. There was no excited shout of his name, no blaring music that you were drunkenly singing along to and none of your friends were yelling at him for interrupting girl's night.

There’s just silence, a terribly concerning silence only accentuated by the shuffling of clothes and shuddering breaths. He’s on his feet and crashing into the wall on his quest for the keys in three seconds flat. His shoes aren’t even on properly and he’s already in the car when he finally gets a response to his barrage of questions.

“Johnny?” Your voice is slurred and confused in a way that has his blood freezing. You very rarely got so sloshed you couldn’t function anymore but Soap knew what you were like even then, and this was not it.

When the phone connects to the car's Bluetooth he’s throwing his phone into the passenger seat and reversing so quickly the tyres screech in protest. He knows where you are, you were always good at updating him if you moved venues but it doesn’t stop him from double-checking.

He has to ask the question three times before you eventually confirm that you haven’t gone anywhere, his heart rate increasing frantically with each second that passes and he’s not by your side yet.

“Johnny? Wh’re you? I think somethin’s wrong. Don’t feel so good.” Your whimpers fill the car and Soap starts to drive even faster, blowing through two red lights and a stop sign with little concern over the inevitable tickets and demerits he’ll get.

“I know baby. Am almost there, just hold on a little longer.” He commanded as firmly and gently as possible. “Ye in the bathroom? Locked the door?”

Once again it takes a while for you to understand and respond to his question but when you do he allows himself to relax a little. He tries to ascertain where your friend has gone and not for the first time he wants to kill her when you tell him you have no idea where she’s gone.

“Johnny?” you call for him a few more times as if forgetting you’ve already gotten on the line.

He throws the car into park when he arrives, not bothering with the handbrake and not caring that he’s just stopped in the middle of the road. Cars are honking and people are yelling but he doesn’t give a single fuck, his mind is on a one-track mission.

He’s even left his phone on the seat in his haste and the door open. Undoubtedly, you’ll yell at him when he relays the details later but he’s willing to cop all of your anger if it means he gets to you in time.

He runs past the bouncer, outpacing the shouting man and ducking past various security members as he beelines towards the bathroom. Vaguely he recognises that he’s being chased but it doesn’t matter because he makes it to the ladies' bathroom well before they catch up.

It doesn’t even register that the bathroom door isn’t locked like you’d said it was when he bursts into the grimy space because his attention and fury are quickly dragged elsewhere. Namely to the motherfucker that was sticking his hand down your pants as you sobbed and tried to get away with your body’s sluggish movement.

He’s letting out a furious roar and when the man turns with wide eyes at the commotion behind him Johnny’s fist smacks into his nose with a sickening crack that sends him stumbling backwards bleeding and onto the tile floor.

It’s only the fact that your legs give out without someone supporting you that stops him from beating the man to death as he grabs you and pulls you against him.

You’re so out of it that you protest, pushing against his chest as you cry because you don’t recognise him straight away.

It takes a bit of cajoling and pressing soft kisses into your hairline before you recognise him but when you do you completely devolve into a crying, sobbing mess, collapsing against him even further as you finally allow yourself to feel all of the overwhelming panic you’d been trying to hold off.

Security’s caught up and the commotion they make as they barge into the bathroom sets you off even further and Soap simply shoots them a heated glare before shouldering past them with you safe in his arms.

Perhaps miraculously, both the car and his phone are still where he’d left him and Johnny gently deposits you in the passenger seat, clipping your seatbelt in. His heart shatters a little further when you start to beg him not to leave you.

“M not leaving ye bonnie, just need to get myself strapped in.”

“Promise?” you sound so small and Soap is now certain that once you’re safe and looked after he’d going to hunt down the scumbag that dared lay a finger on you. For now though,

“I promise love.” When he slips into the driver's seat you’re reaching blearily for his hand immediately and he takes it just as quickly, pulling away and driving far slower than he’d gone to get to you.

“I promise.” The words are so soft that they’re more for himself than you. They’re an oath that he’ll keep even if it kills him.

#x reader #cod mw x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #cod john mactavish #cod soap #cod mw

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