#he just made a mistake and is now working through it with Johnny
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Random Johnny and Marcus Headcanons for the Human AU
Marcus and Johnny would cook together a lot when Johnny was young, mainly with Johnny sitting on the counter holding the recipe book for his dad to read.
Marcus’s nicknames for Johnny are John-song and John-bird, which come from his wife’s nickname for their son, songbird.
When Johnny gets night terrors, he will go sit with his dad til he’s calmed down enough to go back to sleep. He typically ends up falling asleep where-ever that turned out to be and Marcus still carries him to bed.
Marcus still carries an inhaler in case Johnny has a really bad panic attack again, even though the last one that severe was years ago. He also brings noise cancelling headphones everywhere in case Johnny gets sensory overload.
Johnny inherited his dad’s tendency to get awkward in suddenly emotional or intense situations.
They both are very dramatic in the reactions to things.
Marcus called Johnny duck as a nickname when he was really little and now he does it in really intense situations to calm him down.
Marcus does still remember a bit of piano from his wife and will help Johnny out when he’s struggling.
Johnny helped his dad and uncles set up social media soon after they got out of jail. The first person Marcus followed was Johnny and he immediately went through and liked all his posts.
Marcus has a ton of books on parenting and raising/being supportive of your kids that he reads constantly.
Johnny tells his dad pretty much everything, including set gossip.
Marcus is in a groupchat with the other parents in the New Moon Theatre Troupe.
Marcus and Johnny both are fluent in Hindi and use it as a way to just talk to each other one on one in public without other people listening in.
Marcus is constantly hugging his son and tells him that he loves hims and is proud of him every chance he gets after the disaster that happened in Sing 1.
They started family therapy together after the whole disowning issue and are doing so much better that it’s surprised even their therapist.
Marcus has an alert set on his phone for every time Johnny is mentioned in a web article and he reads every single one. He even hangs his favourites around the garage and will show off videos of Johnny to customers.
#sing#sing 2#sing johnny#sing marcus#sing big daddy#Marcus is a good dad y'all#he just made a mistake and is now working through it with Johnny#my favorite father son duo#theyre perfect#*holds gently*#just look at the babies#and the hug thing is essentially canon at this point#marcus pretends to not really care about the set gossip but he looks forward to hearing whats new#johnny calls his dad everyday#marcus swears his mother is where he got his flair of dramatics from. johnny does not believe him#the parent groupchat is mainly *who's picking up the kids today* or *WHAT THE HELL IS MOON DRAGGING OUR CHILDREN INTO NOW?!?!?!*#theyre in therapy#theyre healing#johnny has a panic disorder#autistic johnny
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Nurse!Reader
Merry Christmas everyone 🎄 had this stuck in my head for a little while and it's took even longer to write. Slightly jealous ghost if you squint.
All the nurses knew as soon as they saw Ghost enter the Medics station on base that there was only one nurse he'd see. Some of the long term staff who treated his injuries before she'd arrived on base were thankful they didn't have to work through the glowering stare, the gruff grunts and all-around hardship he'd made there job of tending to him. In fact it was a hardship in itself just convincing him to see a base nurse.
With her though he was different, he sat willing while she tended to his wounds and they've even seen him sit for an hour after arriving back from one deployment so that she was the one to see to him despite other nurses being free.
No one knew why he favoured her and if anyone asked him he would never admit the real reason he took a liking to her was because she snapped at him on their first meeting. He was so used to the other nurses tip toeing around his large form and intimidating presence but she was different, becoming annoyed with his constant squirming as she tried to stitch the cut along his shoulder, that she didn't ever care to ask how he'd gotten.
"Stop moving so I can finish this and get you out of my sight"
If anyone else had said it, he'd have had something to say about it but with her stood there, tiny form next to him with teeth gritted and eyebrows set into a deep frown then he knew that she was different to the other nurses and that he liked. Hence the reason she'd become the only one he'd see.
Since that first meeting though he'd become a lot easier to handle and she hadn't had to snap at him anymore. In fact there was a little more joking around between the two of them.
"You're hurt, why are you always hurt?" She fussed coming back to her station to find him sat on the bed.
"S'my job" he grumbles, surrendering to her soft touch as she inspects his arm.
With a sigh, she turns her head to look up at him, "If it was your job, then wouldn't I see the rest of your unit just as much as I see you?" She phrases it as a question but they both know it doesn't require an answer. "Hell I don't even seen Johnny as much as I see you" She adds, as Johnny maybe a soldier but he's a clumsy fucker sometimes.
At the mention of Johnny's name, Simon tenses, he's a little hurt even though he knows he shouldn't be, but she's never once called him Simon. It's always Ghost or Lt. Yet she's casually dropping Johnny's name as though she always calls him that instead of Soap or sergeant.
She mistakes his tensing for pain in his arm instead of what it is and she let's go of him as he grumbles out, "Simon"
"Sorry?" She replies not sure if she'd quite heard what he said correctly.
"Call me Simon" his voice is as gruff as usual but she could be mistaken when she hears the hint of pleading in his tone.
"Okay but you gotta do one thing for me in return" she's teasing, she'll call him Simon if that's what he wants regardless, but this constantly getting hurt has to stop so maybe she's going to abuse the power she has over him in this moment but it's with his best interest at heart. Simon nods once, slowly before she continues, "You have to stop being so reckless, I know you have a dangerous job, but at least try not to get injured"
Simon sits and stares at her for a minute or so as if considering her words, he is really because not getting injured means he can't come down to medical and that means he won't get to see her as often but getting to hear her call his name is the desire that's currently outweighing everything else. "Fine" he huffs as if she's asking the hardest thing in the world from him.
"Good, now, let's get this arm sorted." She smiles, turning away from him to gather the equipment she needs. It takes her practiced hands barely anytime at all to complete the task at hand and Simon almost resents her for how quickly she works as now he has to leave her.
He thanks her with a grunt as he stands from the medical bed but she stops him before he leaves, "Simon" his name finally drips from her lips like honey and he's putty in her hands, he's very thankful for the mask right now so that she can't see the colour spreading across his cheeks. "You know you don't have to get hurt to come see me, I do enjoy your company" she reveals and he nods, unable to speak.
Oh but when he thinks about it later on when he's alone in his bunk, he realises she doesn't know what she's let herself in for as he plans to be by her side whenever he gets any free time on base.
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Part 12 SpecGru reader!!
No content warnings for this chapter.
You mull over your captain’s words in the hours before dinner. Sitting behind Nova in her temporary room, Doctor Who’s opening theme warbling from your laptop’s speakers. You gently work oil into her scalp, following the precise alleys formed by her braids.
It’s a soothing ritual, not just for her, but for you. An act of care for a woman who’s been so kind and patient with you. Who always stood her ground on your worst days, and never allowed herself to be goaded into a useless argument. She’s warm beneath your fingers, soft against your chest, the scent of coconut and cinnamon sweet in your nose.
Slowly, you begin to card through memories you put great care into neglecting.
The day you left the hospital, feeling more pathetic than you ever had in your life. A packet of care instructions folded over in one hand. You remember the way Gaz hadn’t quite looked you in the eye, mouth tight and regretful at the corners. Almost guilty. Even when he handed over a bag of fresh clothes, saying he was glad to see you on your feet.
Did you know then? Was there some twinge of foreshadowing in your gut? Did you hear a foreboding whisper in your mind, of how the following twenty-four hours would devolve?
Maybe you did or maybe hindsight is a liar.
What really stands out, even after all this time, is how betrayed you felt (still feel) when you reflect on that interaction with Gaz. That the best he offered was a weak warning that Ghost and Price were pissed off at you. The hurt that he didn’t even ask how you felt before disappearing for the rest of that awful day. You never saw him after your initial discharge, he might as well have borrowed his lieutenant’s namesake.
And then there was Johnny.
Soap, who made himself perfectly visible, if only to express how pissed off he was. He never bothered to ask how you were doing either – didn’t even seem relieved to see you conscious and in one piece. He was tight-jawed and tense; the few times he deigned to speak to you was clipped and terse.
When you finally left, you remember how your chest ached, knowing (intending) you’d never see his thousand-watt smile again. A fair few of your tears on that flight had been in self-deprecation for expecting anything but his total, unwavering loyalty to Simon. It stung that for all his crowing about being a team, looking out for each other, no one left behind – he couldn’t spare you a crumb of forgiveness for a mistake in the field.
Price and Ghost had almost made sense, really. But Gaz and Soap had been a peculiar sort of pain. Your fellow sergeants, who had made you feel welcome and comfortable in the beginning – who had been the bridge and buffer between you and your intimidating superiors. And maybe it wasn’t their fault that you never quite felt like you had a seat at their table, but they’d tried.
Still… at least you can look at them. You can’t imagine opening your mouth to face Price or Ghost and anything but acid pouring out.
“What’s on your mind, babes?”
You blink, palms automatically cradling Nova’s head as she tilts it back to peer at you. On autopilot, you dip down to kiss her forehead, then the gentle curve of her lips.
“Hmm?”
“Don’t get me wrong, the massage is nice,” she teases, “but you’ve gone over my whole head at least twice now.”
“Oh,” you intone, swiping your thumb behind her ear. “Just thinkin’ is all.”
“I can tell,” she giggles, “there’s practically smoke comin’ outta your ears.”
You grimace a bit, arms lowering down to circle her shoulders in a hug. She curls her clever, slender fingers around your forearm, tracing soft patterns with her blunt nails.
“Sorry, love,” you mumble, flicking your eyes to the screen. Realize you’ve only got a vague idea of what’s going on. “I’m being a bad date.”
“You’re not,” she insists, squeezing your wrist. “This s’all been a lot, yeah? I just don’ want you being on your own in there.”
She taps two fingers against your temple. You used to spend all your time alone in your own head. Not because it was safe – it wasn’t – but it was familiar. It took her and the rest of the team concerted effort to pry anything of value from you.
Now, you muster up an appreciative smile as you nuzzle into her hand.
“I’ve just been trying to decide…”
She pauses the show and wriggles to get a better look at your face, hums for you to continue.
“If I should try talking to the 141,” you continue. “Cap said I should consider it. See if we can put all that old shit to rest.”
“Do you want to put it to rest?”
“I should.”
“But do you want to?”
The question brings you up a bit short. Being mad is easy. You’ve been mad at them for so long, one step short of loathing, that you’ve settled into the feeling. Dug your heels in. It’s an easy way to put a stopper on all the complicated hurt lying beneath.
“I want to talk to them the same way I want to go to the dentist,” you muse.
She picks up what you aren’t saying.
“You don’t want to, but you know it’s healthier if you do.”
You grunt, still too proud to admit it outright.
“The wound closed over, but it never healed properly,” she says. “Maybe you’ve got to reset it, yeah?”
You sigh. “Yeah. Just not sure where to start.”
She shrugs. “Wherever you want to. Do it on your own terms. Only way you’ll be able to stomach them.”
You chuckle. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“’Course I am,” she chirps. “I’m used to navigating bad weather.”
You nip at her fingers, prompting a bright peel of laughter as she tries to squirm away. As you wrestle her back into your lap, your nerves soften and settle.
Even if you excise this wound, you know you won’t be left bleeding alone. Not ever again.
You haven’t come to any concrete decision after dinner. Not that anyone asks. Nova isn’t one to push and your captain has already said his piece. You haven’t told Nikto or Keegan about your dilemma yet, and you’re not sure if you will.
Nikto’s take on the situation isn’t obvious – though if you had to guess, it would be similar to Nova’s. But Keegan? You already know what his answer would be.
Of anyone in SpecGru, he had to work the hardest to earn even an iota of warmth from you. He reminded you too much of Ghost – and how could he not? The perpetual mask, the sharp one-liners. Gruff and closed off, frighteningly capable, and a crack shot with a sniper rifle to boot.
It used to take everything in you to pull your punches during spars. The rare instances that you would agree to eat with your new team were never if Keegan was present. And more than once, you walked into the rec room, saw his looming figure, and turned right back around.
The only time you could stand to look at him was during missions, but your captain was always sure to receive a killer glare if he paired the two of you together.
Keegan was your partner on the mission that changed things.
It had been a week straight of shit sleep and bad memories, sick on loneliness and anger. When boots hit the ground, you stormed right in, eager to prove to yourself (but really, to them) that you were valuable. Didn’t wait for Keegan, but that had never stopped him from keeping pace with you before.
You didn’t clear your corners, got sloppy and hasty.
Took two stab wounds before Keegan shot the hostile in the temple. When he tried to call the others, you demanded that he finish the mission first. Would have rather bled out than be the reason another mission failed.
The pain and blood loss dragged you under as soon as you choked out the demand.
Then, Keegan’s face was the first thing you saw in the hospital room. Not the mask, him.
Even with dirt and black paint smudging his face, you could see the dark, worried circles beneath his eyes. Could read regret in his angular jaw, relief in the slant of his scarred mouth. For the first time, you looked in his eyes and saw more than an echo of your former lieutenant.
You saw your teammate. The partner you’d left to fend for himself because you’d been handicapped by your own pride. You saw Keegan.
“Did you finish the mission?” you rasped.
He frowned, but your captain stepped forward. “He did – once we were there to stop the bleeding.”
You never saw Ghost in the weave of his mask again.
And soon after, Keegan was the first person you opened up to about the 141.
It was that very same week. You’d been sick on shame and embarrassment, using your injuries to nurse your wounded ego. Skipping meals in exchange for raiding your snack drawers and moping in your cot.
Keegan hadn’t made himself scarce after your discharge. None of your team had, really – but he’d made a point of checking on you. And lacking your usual sharpness, he hadn’t been deterred by your comparatively mild standoffishness either.
Which was how you found yourself stubbornly tucked into the corner of your cot one night, while Keegan sewed the holes in your shirt. He kept shooting you amused looks – probably because you hadn’t taken your eyes off him once. Half wondering why he was there, half waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“You gonna say something, or you just glare all night?” he drawled eventually.
You narrowed your eyes. “Do you plan to stay all night?”
He shrugged, but his eyes flicked to yours, the corner of his mouth ticking up. (No mask. He hadn’t worn one around you since the hospital. Not unless people outside your team were around.)
“If you’ll have me. Been meaning to get you caught up on the show we’ve been watching.”
You huffed, frustrated. “Why?”
He arched his brows at you, needle paused. “Because I like you, despite your best efforts.”
You stared, a little appalled, a little touched. Keegan just chuckled and went right back to mending your shirt. You drew your knees up tighter and hid your quivering mouth with your arms.
“Cap says your last team was shit to you,” he said into your sullen silence.
You scowled. He put a hand up as if in surrender.
“He hasn’t said more’n that, don’t worry,” he continued, “I’m just sayin’… I don’t take any of it personal. You’re a good teammate, I trust you with more than my six.”
Why, you wanted to demand, flabbergasted and all the guiltier because you knew you didn’t deserve it. Why did he trust you? Why was he so patient? Why was he there at all?
You sniffled, but he just kept talking.
“I want to return the favor, ya know? I’m not askin’ you to trust me after the mission, but you don’t gotta be on your own either.”
You were crying quietly by that point, face so hot that your tears felt cold, stomach aching from more than stab wounds. He finally looked up, saw how you were falling apart. But he didn’t shy away, didn’t close himself off. It wasn’t pity or sympathy that softened his eyes.
“The shit you and I carry, we’re not meant to do it alone, sweets.”
And what else could you do, but spill your sorry guts?
You remember the expression on his face when you got to the part about Ghost. Remember how tightly he held you on your cot, all the distance (emotional and physical) closed between you two. Remember waking up the next morning, Netflix still open on your laptop and flopped gracelessly over Keegan’s stomach like a childhood sleepover.
You couldn’t have iced him out again even if you wanted to, after that.
No, there’s no question what Keegan would tell you, if you asked about talking to the 141. He would say there’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of them.
So, you don’t ask.
You climb into his lap in your temporary room that evening, peeling his mask up and off with slow hands. His eyes are already half-lidded, the corner of his mouth curved fondly. His hands spread across your thighs, warm and rough. The scar twisting across his left palm is sweetly familiar when he draws it along your skin.
“I’m going to try talking to the 141,” you admit.
His jaw twitches, eyes flickering. “Now why the hell would you do that?”
You sigh, curl your fingers into the brassy crop of hair he’s been growing out. He’s got a quick temper, and a habit of misplacing it when it’s been triggered by something out of his control. You don’t take it personally, you never have – it’s gratifying to see how much he cares.
“There’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of ‘em,” he growls.
“There might be.”
He sits back, skeptical but waiting.
You continue, “I’ve got a lot of shit to say to them, and they seem eager to hear it.”
“Why give ‘em the satisfaction?” he asks.
“Maybe it’ll help with the nightmares.” That gives him pause. You draw your thumb soothingly across his temple – a bullet graze from saving your life. “We’ve got too much shit to carry, you and me. Unloading some of it is as good a reason as any.”
His hand drifts up your side, grazes the tattoo coiling down your arm. (The second you ever got – a big piece that took hours, Keegan never leaving your side. Nikto, Nova, and your captain periodically dropping in to provide snacks and water.)
He cups your jaw, guides your face down until your foreheads touch. You stay there, breathing him in. He smells like yours.
“What if they make it worse, huh?” His thumb caresses over your cheekbone the way it has a dozen times before, wiping away tears. “I’ll have to kill ‘em.”
You huff softly, amused. “Then kill ‘em. But I’m stronger than I was, Kee. There’s nothing they can weigh me down with that I can’t carry.”
“I know,” he whispers, tilting his chin to drop a sweet, aching kiss on your lips.
“Besides, I wouldn’t be carrying it alone anymore.”
His expression lightens, pride shining from his eyes. “Damn right.”
It’s nearly midnight when you wake from a light doze. Keegan is snoring softly, an arm and leg each hanging over the side of the bed. Your mouth is dry, but you realize it’s your stomach that woke you – pangs of hunger from picking at your dinner earlier. You need to eat.
Quiet and careful, you crawl out from beneath the sheets. Keegan is a heavy sleeper compared to the nearly supernatural senses of Nikto; he hardly stirs as you pad for the door. The hall lights are dim, but you only open it a crack to slip out.
The hall is quiet, no lights on beneath any of the other doors. You hope that means the rest of your team is sleeping peacefully. If you remember right, Nikto and Nova crawled in with your captain this evening. They’re all in good company if nightmares creep in; you pray Keegan doesn’t have any while you’re up.
Thankfully, the rec room is only two halls away. Light is spilling out as you turn the corner – there’s a sensor that shuts them off if no movement is detected for a while. Someone is either in there now or was recently. You half hope it’s the latter, but that doesn’t deter you from entering.
Your surprised to find Soap leaning against the kitchenette counter, a steaming mug in hand. His expression is flat, grim. Tired. You pause just inside the doorway.
“Might as well come in,” he says, voice low and rough. “I’ll clear out in a mo’.”
Even from where you’re standing, you can see that his cup is mostly full.
You exhale and shake your head. “Don’t have to.”
“How gracious,” he rasps, brows twitching like he wants to scowl. Like he can’t quite commit to being as bitter as he should be.
You’re too tired for your usual acid, as well. Just sigh and reach for the fridge door.
“Is that how you want this conversation to go?” you ask.
“Is this a conversation?” he replies.
You pluck out a yogurt cup. “It can be.”
He’s glaring into his coffee now, index finger tapping at the ceramic. Thinking. Or maybe just leashing all the things he wants to say but knows will drive you right back out.
“Why now?” he says finally.
You shrug. “Because I’m ready now.”
A tendon in his jaw twitches. “That’s not fair.”
A hot flicker of anger ignites in your chest. You tamp it down with a spoonful of yogurt, measuring out your words and tone.
“How do you reckon?” you inquire.
“You left,” he says. It’s been a while, but you can detect the hurt underlying the accusation. You suspect it’s something he’s wanted to say for a long time. “You left us behind.”
You click your teeth off your spoon, take a deep breath. It’s factually true. You are the one that left but—
“I wasn’t going to wait for you all to kick me out officially.”
He finally raises his eyes, a dark storm of emotion swirling within them.
“We wouldnae have.”
You tilt your head, cynicism in the flat line of your mouth. “Didn’t seem that way to me.”
“I ken you and Simon were—”
“Don’t.”
His mouth snaps shut, brows furrowed. You point at him with your spoon warningly but bite back the sharp remark on your tongue. Arguing isn’t the point here.
Settle instead to say, “Don’t speak for the others.”
There’s a beat of silence as he digests that, then finally nods. “Alright. Just you ‘n me then.”
You turn back to your yogurt, swipe up another spoonful as you reorganize your thoughts.
“I didn’t leave because of Ghost,” you begin. “Not entirely. I left because I was never part of the team. And what happened after that mission just… made it all very clear.”
Soap frowns, opens his mouth like he wants to deny it, but you hold up a finger to stop him. He takes a long sip of coffee and waits.
“You didn’t check on me at all. You weren’t there when I woke up. You never asked if I was okay,” you continue. “You were too busy being angry on Ghost’s behalf.”
“You almost got the both of you killed,” he argues.
“But you cared more about Ghost almost being hurt than the fact that I was,” you say. And dammit, you feel your sinuses burning, but your eyes stay blessedly dry. The anger disappears from his face all at once as realization sinks in. “I mattered to you less than Ghost.”
His hand tightens around his mug, knuckles blanching. “No. No, lass, tha’s no’… you were always… you survived.”
“I felt the worst I ever had in my life, but you didn’t care because I crossed the almighty Ghost,” you insist.
“I cared about you,” he denies.
“But not more than you did about Ghost.” You drag your gaze up to his. Even his eyes look a little wet now. “And that… that wasn’t enough for me.”
You suck in a shuddering breath, trying to loosen the tightness in your chest. Clear your throat once you feel the threatening prick of tears subside.
“I didn’t… it wasnae that,” he rasps. “I ken you think I’m full of shite, but ‘s true.”
You do think he’s full of shit. Maybe not on purpose, maybe he really does think he cared about you as much as Ghost, but you know better.
“I was just… so angry wi’ you,” he explains. “You could have died. Nearly got Simon killed, all because you thought you knew better.”
You exhale hard. “You’ve never made a bad call?” you challenge.
“It wasnae your call to make. You should have listened to Ghost. Instead, you—”
“I what?”
Your fingers tingle, numb. Can’t even feel the spoon, or the chill of the yogurt cup anymore.
“You disobeyed orders, it was so—”
“I didn’t.”
He stops. Stares. “What?”
You stare right back, “I didn’t disobey orders.”
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motive | lee donghyuck (haechan)
synopsis — in which after donghyuck joins jeno on a gym day he finds himself infatuated with his friend’s occasional gym buddy, you.
genre — non-idol!au, fem!reader, comedy, fluff, and strangers to friends to lovers (?)
content — swearing, reader is mentioned to be a gym trainer + nurse tech, also is pretty direct (i won’t her) while hyuck is a loser, a bit more centered on hyuck’s pov than reader’s, jeno is unintentionally playing cupid, hyuck makes one (1) joke about jumping, and featuring jaemin and johnny for like a split second
word count — 4k
playing — motive by ariana grande ft. doja cat
author’s note — ik this is an act of terrorism but: do we all remember hyuck’s gym phase (fact check era)? … yeah. need that. also happy new year omg :D what better way to welcome it than with silly lovestruck hyuck!
i. baby tell me what’s your motive?
“Just five more minutes…”
“Tuh. That’s what you said five minutes ago, c’mon, get up,” Jeno tugs Donghyuck by his ankles, effectively yanking his full-grown roommate from his bed and to land on the ground below him.
“No!” Donghyuck spits, scrambling back to the comfort of his covers before Jeno can stop him.
“You’re the one who asked me to help you get back in the gym, remember?” Jeno sighs exasperatedly, continuing his mission of excavating his stubborn friend from his bed. This time, Donghyuck holds onto his bed’s post to anchor himself.
Donghyuck angles his head to the side as if he’s in thought, “Did I? I don’t seem to recall…”
It was, in fact, his idea. It took a while to break down Jeno’s resolve for the past few weeks and convince him to help him with training with the welcoming of the new year, but it happened. Now, being woken up at dawn just to be surrounded by sweaty bodies was starting to be an idea he regretted having.
Jeno rolls his eyes, “Well I do, now let go.”
“Never!”
“Donghyuck, I’m telling you now if you don’t get up, I will do it myself.”
A habitual snarky snicker ripples through the younger’s chest, “Is that not what you’ve been struggling to do for the past hour?”
Silence hangs in the man’s room as he registers the grave mistake he’s made: making a jab at Jeno. As the seconds tick by like stomach-churning hours, Donghyuck tosses a quick glance backwards to get a grasp of his roommate’s reaction.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Donghyuck pathetically pleads for his life when he meets Jeno’s.
Jeno nods, quietly rolling his shoulders before his bruising grip returns to pull at Donghyuck’s lower half, “Mhm.”
“Wait, agh!”
“Do we really have to do this?”
Jeno inhaled deeply, he wasn’t sure why he thought his friend’s whining would cease once they stepped foot into his usual gym. He thinks back to the many missed opportunities he had at stop lights where he could’ve pushed Donghyuck out the car, but alas it was now a regret he would just have to live with.
“Listen, you don’t have to whatsoever, but I for one will be gladly working out.”
“I—" Donghyuck prepares himself to shoot back at his roommate but his retort fizzles out on his tongue when he catches you in his peripheral sauntering towards him and Jeno.
“Hi, Jeno!” A delicate voice trills, drawing both men’s attention to you.
Jeno’s eyes crease almost on command, a puppy-like smile stretching across his face. “Hey, I didn’t know you trained on Wednesday’s?”
“I don’t usually but I switched shifts with a coworker.” You shrug with your explanation, quickly adjusting your focus to the rigid man that stood beside Jeno.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m ___!” You jut out your glove-clad hand for him to shake.
Donghyuck takes a moment to grasp that you are in fact speaking to him, a winsome smile gracing his features and ridding him of his dazed expression before he meshes his hand with yours to shake. “Hi, Donghyuck, Jeno’s roommate…”
Your grip in the handshake falters to a stop as it dawns on you who exactly has just been introduced to you, “Ah! You’re Donghyuck?”
Said man’s eyebrows jump for a moment, his smirk growing deeper. “So you’ve heard of me?”
“Well, Jeno mentioned in passing that he’d start bringing you around,” you pause as you draw your hand from his grasp to rest both on your hips, giving the comfortably dressed man a quick once over. “And that you might need a little assistance.”
The manner in which you finish your sentence is controlled, expertly hiding your amusement but Jeno does little to shield his humored snickering. Donghyuck’s face falls flat and stoic, immediately shooting Jeno with an intense glare. But it only takes a beat before Donghyuck’s attention returns to you, quickly turning his suave back on.
“Hmm. You’d be the one helping though, right?”
His charm stuns you for a bit, an amused laugh easing from your nostrils, “I would. If I’m available, of course. I tend to train others whenever I’m here,” your thumb gestures backwards towards a middle-aged woman who is stretching across the gym.
Donghyuck peaks around you for a moment, his mouth forming into an ‘o’ shape, “Oh, you’re a trainer?”
“Yep!” you chirp proudly.
“And a nurse.” Jeno chimes, getting an flustered eye roll out of you.
“Nurse tech,” you correct. “I’m in school to be a physical therapist.”
“Wow. And how exactly do you know Jeno here?” Donghyuck furrows his brows, apparently finding it unbelievable that someone like you would be associated with his friend. It’s Jeno’s turn to glare, and you can’t help but giggle at their exchanges.
“Just from around. Embarrassingly he corrected my form when I was working out one day, and we’ve been buddies ever since.” You affirm, gently bumping Jeno’s exposed shoulder with your first.
Wordlessly Jeno nods, supporting your story. Before Donghyuck can probe you any longer, you throw a quick glance over your shoulder.
“Ah, I’ll catch up with you guys later, yeah?” You ask, already walking away from the interaction and back to your client.
“Uh huh.” Donghyuck responds airily, almost as if he’s in a trance. You smile at his antics, delivering a final wave their way before trotting away.
Donghyuck’s eyes linger on you for a moment before dreamily sighing.
“Could you be a little less pathetic?” Jeno grumbles, shaking his head as his friend practically falls over himself over you.
Donghyuck scoffs, completely tuning out Jeno’s insult with his eyes still focused on your figure across the room, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you knew such pretty people here, Jeno?”
“Because that’s not the point, now is it?" Jeno roughly pats Donghyuck's shoulder, hoping it would deter him from staring holes into your toned back.
Surprisingly it manages to work and Donghyuck peels his gaze from you to focus on his friend who begins stretching his muscular limbs, “Pfft. It is now. What other days is she here?”
Jeno stills for a moment, an exaggerated, scandalized look on his face, “There’s absolutely no way I’m giving you that information.”
Donghyuck pouts, “Will she be here tomorrow?”
“Doesn’t matter. We won’t be.”
“And why not?” The whiny tone in Donghyuck's voice would almost be endearing to Jeno if he hadn't been subjected to it for the past decade and a half. Instead, it makes the grown man sigh deeply before continuing his routine.
“It’ll be a recovery day,” Jeno murmurs dismissively.
This makes Donghyuck ponder for a moment before a wicked expression graces his face, “Hmm. So, if we work out today, we'll have to recover tomorrow?”
“Precisely.”
“So, if we don’t work out today, can we come tomorrow?” Donghyuck quirks a mischievous eyebrow.
Jeno huffs, “Precisely…”
“Cool. I’m going home!”
Before Donghyuck can even make progress toward the gym exit, a strong grip is placed on the neckline of his t-shirt. Comically, the grown man is pulled back into the exact same stop he once stood in by his roommate.
“Never mind.” Donghyuck recedes sadly, setting down his sad excuse for a gym bag on the ground.
ii. might have to curve you if you just can’t talk straight
To say Donghyuck was on a mission would be an understatement. Today was nothing like it compared to his first (forced) official gym day. He had woken up with no problems, no Jeno to tug him out of bed. He slipped on his foreign-feeling gym shoes and drove here on his own. Not because he had a sudden desire to fulfill his promise to himself, no. Not because Jeno’s threats finally and genuinely reached his ears, never that. But because of you.
“Oh hey, where’s Jeno?” You come bounding over after several minutes of Donghyuck glancing your way as unsuspectingly as he could muster (spoiler: he did a terrible job).
“Ah, he had a last minute meeting,” Donghyuck waves his hand dismissively in the air. ”I didn’t want to miss out on a chance to get in here,”
You laugh at the way Donghyuck pumps up his obviously flat chest, nodding along despite his antics. “Oh? What are you doing today?”
Donghyuck’s features drop at lightning speed, the cogs turning in his head in real time.
“…uh… I was just gonna… y’know… freestyle a bit. Maybe hit legs—” His slender hands fumble around as he wracks his mind for even a slightly plausible answer to give you.
The giggle you were biting back finally spills past your lips, deciding to end Donghyuck’ suffering, “You have no clue what you’re doing, do you?”
“Absolutely no idea.” He sighs, dropping his head forward shamefully.
You nod, finding the pout on his face incredibly endearing, “Hah. Well, I’m on my own today if you’d like to join me?”
Donghyuck physically perks up at this, his quick change in expression almost sending you spinning. The fond that graces his pink lips leave a ticklish feeling stirring in the base of your stomach, “I’d like that.”
You smirk, forcing yourself to push away the burdensome sensation. “Cool. Fair warning, I’m not gonna take it easy on you just because you’re a friend of a friend.”
A glint that you can only recognize as mischief twinkles in Donghyuck’s deep brown eyes, almost challenging you, “I wouldn’t want you to, anyway.”
Turns out Donghyuck wasn’t much one for a challenge as you had initially thought.
“Ah, god. Okay, are we done yet?” Donghyuck clumsily tumbles out of seat for the hack squat machine. Not even taking into account the state of the floor that meets him when he braces himself on his hands and knees.
You snort, watching as Donghyuck�� now a glistening, drenched mess— crawls around under he lands on his back, nursing his water bottle.
“We’re literally on the second exercise.” You remind slowly.
Donghyuck cranes his neck up from the ground, a horrified look on his face, “What? I feel like I’ve been at this for ages.”
“Do you complain this much with Jeno?” You playfully roll your eyes, tossing him a spare towel from your gym bag.
“Yes.” Donghyuck allows the cloth to cover his face, too drained to even attempt to block it.
“Hm. Tapping out on me already?”
“What? No! I— just give me a minute,” Donghyuck desperately shoots up from his position but clearly moves too fast for the rest of his body to process, having to slump to hoisting himself up by his elbows. You laugh at him, though he was obviously not the gym type you did find him to be incredibly entertaining. He peels an eye open at the sound of your laughter, a handsome smile gracing his face.
Trying to shake the flutter in your stomach from the look in his eyes, you flutter your eyes elsewhere in the gym. Just like his humor, it was undeniable that Donghyuck was attractive.
Donghyuck’s tired smirk deepens the more you avoid his pointed gaze-- almost as if he could sense the line of dialogue in your mind you were actively trying to dismiss, “You good?”
You clear your throat, finally forcing your eyes down to meet Donghyuck’s, “Hm? Are you good is the real question?”
It's Donghyuck's turn to be amused by your behavior, huffing out a breathy laugh before managing to sit up fully, “I’m feeling fine now.”
“Oh?" You quirked an eyebrow, stepping out of the way so he could return to the machine behind you. "Ready for your next set?”
Donghyuck basically shudders at the implication that he would have to put his body through that torture again, grimacing up at you, “On second thought, give me another minute.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Why does the gym hurt this bad?” Donghyuck groans, his cries muffled into the plush of his friend’s couch.
“I’m still tryna figure out why you just randomly went?” Jaemin voices confusedly from his kitchen.
Jeno snorts, attention half-heartedly with the assignment he’s supposed to be completing alongside Jaemin. A session that Donghyuck commonly crashes to prevent him from being quote on quote left out, “‘Cause he has a crush.”
For the first time since the man had successfully wobbled his weight onto Jaemin’s couch, his head darted up, “Ah, I just don’t have a crush, Jeno. We’re in love.”
“Did she tell you that?” Jeno peels his eyes in his roommate’s direction.
“Right by the weight rack, actually.” Donghyuck falsely recounts, head now propped by one of his recently overworked arms.
“Sure.”
“Who knew all it took to get you in the gym was an infatuation?” Jaemin strolls back into the living room, placing down the ice bag Donghyuck had incessantly requested upon first arriving on the coffee table.
Jeno scoffs, “I think everyone would have assumed that was all it took but whatever— it makes my life easier.”
“So, Romeo,” Jaemin deliberately plops down on the lower half of Donghyuck’s sore body.
“Ack!” Donghyuck yelps, his pain so severe from his friend's weight that a bright white flash blinds him momentarily.
“When are we seeing the love of your life again?”
Now that he thinks about it, Donghyuck doesn’t know the answer to this question himself (maybe if he had paid more attention to the workout split schedule Jeno had forwarded him— damn), throwing a hopeful (pitiful) look toward Jeno. The recipient sighs, lolling his head to the side in annoyance.
“She doesn’t work out on Sunday’s.”
“Monday it is!”
iii. tell me everything that’s on your mind
“Who the hell is that?”
“I would assume a fellow gym goer?” Jeno says slowly, fumbling around in his gym bag and not paying Donghyuck a slither of his attention.
“But he’s muscular!” Despite the desperate projection in his friend’s voice, Jeno continues to expertly tune him out.
“Very likely in a place like this…” he hums.
Donghyuck huffs, urgently extending his arms out towards the scene unfolding ahead of him, “Jeno, he’s stealing my wife!”
Jeno rolls his eyes, choosing to spare Donghyuck with a look over his shoulder, “What are— oh, that’s just Johnny.”
Donghyuck looks around bewildered like he isn’t the sole person in the gym throwing a fit, “Am I supposed to know who that bulky fuck is?”
“Dude, he’s like her gym dad— everyone’s actually, nothing to be concerned about…” Jeno shakes his head, completely unsympathetic to his friend’s breakdown.
Donghyuck desperately whips his attention back to you, you and Johnny.
Who the hell is above 30 and named Johnny these days, anyway?
“Look at how hard she’s laughing, I’m gonna jump.”
Jeno bites back an encouraging remark, instead choosing peace, “Why don’t you just— I dunno— do something about it—“ Jeno pans his head back to Donghyuck, mouth gaping to advise him further. “And you’re gone.”
Determined, Donghyuck struts over to you and your interaction. But the closer he gets, the more he truly realizes just how badly this guy could kick his ass— arguably worse than Jeno (and that was saying something).
“Stop it— hey! Oh, Johnny you have to meet Donghyuck,” you gesture towards the man, ignoring how he hilariously ogles up at Johnny like a house mouse. “He’s a close friend of Jeno’s!”
“Hey, nice to meet you.” Johnny warmly extends his hand to be shook, and Donghyuck obediently places his obviously smaller one in his.
Through a tight-lipped smile, Donghyuck replies,“Same here.”
You’re positive that if Johnny didn’t get the cue to recede from the interaction that Donghyuck would still be standing here slowly, but surely further subjecting the older man to a prolonged handshake.
“Did you need something, ‘Hyuck?” The foreign sound of his familiar nickname from your mouth leaves air caught in his throat.
Donghyuck shakes his head profusely, scratching the back of his nape as a vice in this cramped situation he’s found himself in, “Uh, no, no. Just wanted to say hi.”
“Oh, okay,” your lips press into a thin line, bordering a frown.
Johnny smacks his teeth, marking his departure from the interaction, “Well, I’ll leave you kids to it!”
You perk up to bid your friend farewell, “See you next week?”
“Unfortunately!” Johnny waves backwards at you both, delivering goodbyes to fellow gym-goers until he’s officially left the building.
“Hey, you okay?” You return your attention to stiff man adjacent of you.
Donghyuck clears his throat, nodding as he stuffs his hand into the pockets of his sweats, “I’m good. I should probably be getting back to Jen’… he starts getting a little impatient—“
“Donghyuck.” You call out for him before he can even gather up the motivation to inch away from you.
His head pops up and toward you like a puppy, “Hm?”
The resemblance you spot— down to his wide, wet brown eyes— forces you to swallow down a laugh, “I don’t know if you noticed, but I like consistency.”
“… I’m lost.” Donghyuck bats a few long blinks your way.
You sigh, shifting on your feet to lean towards him, “Meaning, if you’re gonna put the moves on me one day, I’d rather you not leave me hanging the next… that is your intention, right?”
Donghyuck looks between both of your eyes as he processes what you’ve just said, you almost think he’ll explode if he continues to think so hard.
“Oh… oh. I didn’t know if you were— are you into me?” He adorably fumbles around, it makes the Donghyuck you remember from his first day in the gym seem like a far stranger.
“Hm. Guess I haven’t made it all that obvious either.” You swing your foot coyly.
Donghyuck gulps, “Heh, yeah. Sorry, I did not think I would get this far,” the tail-end of his sentence sounds as if he’s speaking more to himself. Obviously your admittance still settling in for him.
You giggle at Donghyuck’s endearing deer-like expression, “So, do you wanna go out sometime? Somewhere that preferably doesn’t reek of sweat?” You propose, ruffling through your gym bag while Donghyuck follows your every movement intently.
“God yes—” Donghyuck practically melts at the invitation, earning an amused giggle from you. He clears his throat, shuffling to cross his arms and hopefully hide his swelling embarrassment. “I mean, yeah, that’d be great.”
“Cool. I’ll be expecting your call.” You hand him a small card with your number on it. Donghyuck accepts the card as if he were to hold it too tightly, it’ll shatter into pieces.
“See you around?” You effectively draw his attention back to you before he can trace his eyes over your contact information once more.
Donghyuck nods before he can control it, “You can count on it.” He affirms.
“Good.” You sling your bag over your shoulder, sashaying past Donghyuck with a coquettish wave. Just like you had grown used to, he tracks your every movement until you’ve finally left the gym, daydreamingly sighing to himself before his sweet reverie is interrupted by Jeno’s disgruntled face entering his line of vision.
“Genuinely how?”
“I could teach you a thing or two if you want, Jeno. Lucky for you we’re close enough so it’d come at a discounted price— ouf!”
Jeno tosses a deft kettlebell into Donghyuck’s hold which leads him to crumble forward like a ragdoll, “Play nice before I sick Johnny on you.”
© jigueminunbich 2025
#જ⁀➴ mads’ writes to:#lee haechan x reader#haechan x reader#donghyuck x reader#lee donghyuck x reader#nct dream x y/n#nct dream x reader#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 x you#nct dream x you#nct 127 x y/n#haechan x you#haechan x y/n
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Haunted
Simon Riley X Fem! Reader
Tw: angst(?), smut, unprotected sex, body descriptions(especially Simon's body🫠), threats mentioned, break up.
Summary: Meeting with your ex after a sudden break-up, what could go wrong?
Wc: 5.4k
A/n:Sorry that this took so long😭 Uni and work are biting my ass recently. Again, sorry for mistakes, it's late, and I'm sleepy but wanted to post. Hope y'all like it.
Simon was a man who always seemed to be grieving, so serious, too stoic, he hardly spoke. But that changed with you, he was gentle, soft, loving, that was just you, just you.
You certainly made a change in his life, in such a good way that Simon wondered if he really deserved someone like you.
But that's Simon Riley's life, where everything he cared about died or left him.
Where nothing he wanted turned out right.And his relationship with you was perfect, you were someone who understood him so well, for some reason you always managed to calm him down when he was in the worst of moods. You were definitely for him.
Everything changed after a mission, it was supposed to be just another terrorist group that he had to stop, but it was different this time. At the time of the mission, everything went smoothly, according to the plan Price had drawn up, almost without a flaw.
The problems began to appear as soon as they got back to base, and after the mission was completed, the team members began to receive threats. Several at once, with no specific address or format.It could be a cell phone message, a piece of paper with something strange written on it, a call that as soon as you answered the phone went silent, just a breath on the other end. Any kind of thing.
Given the kind of job Simon had, this was a fairly normal occurrence, he had enemies left and right, he probably had more enemies than friends at that point. Most of the time these threats were nothing more than bluffs by someone who had been upset by the death of a criminal, friend or family member.
But as every rule has its exception, this time the threats weren't empty.One day at the base, Johnny arrived distressed, saying that his sister had received a threat to her life, and it hadn't been over the phone. The poor girl woke up to a rock being thrown through her window, almost hitting her.
No one knew how they had found Johnny's family, how they had managed to find his confidential information, but they had, and now it wasn't just the boys who were in some kind of danger.
And the situation got worse as the days went by, the next event was with Price, and Gaz soon followed. In the same way, it affected people close to them.Simon was the only one who came out of all this 'unscathed', because before they could find the only important person in his life, you, he made sure to send you as far away from his life as possible.
No matter how painful it was.As much as he hated the decision, there was no way he could go back on it, because that would be putting your safety at risk.
And he certainly couldn't take any chances, he'd seen Johnny's family threatened to be killed, Price's children almost kidnapped, and Kyle's partner stalked. This didn't happen without reason, or by pure coincidence. Simon had been in this line of work for a long time, long enough to know that this was revenge, and there was a good chance that the enemies would only stop when they managed to hurt someone. And he wouldn't risk your life for the world. Not ever.
So it was easier to get away from you, to end the relationship in the most stupid way possible, to make you angry with him, and it was easier to get away from him.Because he knew that if for some reason he told you the real reason for that reaction, there was no way you would agree to break up with him. No way.
In the worst-case scenario, he knew what had to be done, and he did it.He's felt like shit ever since, just remembering the way you started crying and sobbing when he told you he wanted to break up with you was enough to put a lump in his throat.It had been three weeks since he'd done that to you, and even then the feeling didn't go away, if anything, it got worse.
These last few days he'd been drinking more than usual, smoking as many cigarettes a day as Price. It wouldn't be surprising if he had black lung before he was fifty.It was something that eased some of the anguish he was carrying, even if only for a moment.
So today was another Saturday, a day off he'd gotten after working all week, and just like last week, he found himself in the same place, the pub he always came to.He'd already lost count of how many shots he'd had, at which point the bourbon didn't even burn as it went down his throat. Maybe he was a bit tipsy, but not drunk, Simon had a high resistance to such things.
But even the amount of cigarettes and booze he'd consumed that night wasn't enough to inhibit his vision of the silhouette that appeared in the corner of his eye.In any case, at first he thought they had put something strange in his drink, perhaps causing some delirium.But no, it was you, in person.
You looked so beautiful, like a vision of paradise. If he was being honest, seeing you showing off all those curves in a tight dress was enough to make his mind go to dirty places.
Despite this, you didn't seem to see him, too excited about your friends to pay attention to what was around you. Not that he cared, since a small part of him was grateful that you hadn't noticed him, he didn't know if he could bear to see your sad eyes one more time.
So he took on the role of silent observer, standing in the corner as he watched your movements. And, it was eerie, unsubtle, but it was the only way he could see you up close after so long.Simon knew it might be better to leave, because the more time he spent in your presence, the more he wanted to go up to you and grab you, but he controlled himself.
Well, he didn't know until when.
A long time passed, and you still didn't notice him there, until one of your friends whispered something to you, causing you to look at Simon almost immediately. He was without that skull mask that he only wore for work, outside the field the piece of cloth was locked in a drawer.
His eyes were fixed on you, he didn't even bother to disguise it. And you felt like you could map his face just by looking at him, the small scruff of hair growing on his face, the scars he had here and there. One of these was large, running from his cheek to his mouth.But that's what made him unique, the Simon you knew and loved like crazy.
When he broke up with you, it was all so fast, you couldn't understand it. For days you wondered if it was something you had done, because Simon was certainly an enigmatic man, but you knew he would tell you if you had done anything wrong.
The relationship ended with gaps, gaps that you desperately wanted to understand.Simon knew how to avoid you, and he did so over the last few weeks, you went to his apartment several times, you texted him, it was humiliating, but you wanted to understand why he made that decision.
But after a few weeks with no results, you gave up, and now you're here facing him again.Not that you're much of a believer in such things, but you'd like to think that this meeting wasn't in vain, not a coincidence of fate. Maybe this was your last chance to get along with him, and you were going to make it count.
Well, not in the cleanest way in the world, not least because you doubted very much that Simon would talk to you out of sheer will. But that's what friends are for, isn't it? Surely they could help you get the lieutenant's attention.
With that in mind, you and your friend put on a little show, pretending that he'd knocked you down and that you'd hurt your foot in the process. Not that it was difficult, given the heels you were wearing.
After faking the little fall, you saw Simon's expression change for a few seconds, and you knew for sure that he had fallen for your trick. The moment you fell, he almost got up from the stool he was sitting on, almost going to rescue you from the fall.Almost.
And you even said out loud that you were going to the restroom to check, denying your friends' help and pretending to be tough, something Simon hated. Little by little, he fell for your little story.
Maybe you were just a good actress, or Simon was too concerned about everything that involved you. Go on, probably both.
You made your way limply to the restroom, doing your best to pretend you were in pain, as if it were the worst pain you were feeling at the moment. You stayed in the restroom for a good few minutes, hoping and praying that he would come after you.
As you leaned on a stall in the restroom, you didn't hear the door opening, because you were fixated on looking at your cell phone, waiting for a message from him.To your surprise, you only felt strong arms pulling you into the stall, locking you and the person inside.
You were about to scream because you thought it was a stranger, but as soon as you saw those brown eyes you loved so much, all that appeared on your face was a smile.
“You scared me...” You whispered, your voice without any bite or malicious tone, probably all that was in your tone was affection.
He scoffed, looking you up and down, “Apparently your foot is better now.”
You bit your lip, trying to contain the mischievous smile that threatened to appear on your lips.
Even though he treated you like an asshole, you could still feel his love for you in his gaze.
And, oh God, seeing you smile like that made his heart beat faster.When you moved, he looked down and saw that you were back in your high heels, making him frown.
It wasn't long before he put two and two together.
“Little minx.” He mutters, narrowing his eyes at you.
“I think it's sore...” You say, trying to keep up the act that your foot really was hurt. Did you really think you could make a fool of him?
By this point Simon should be used to your antics, or maybe he was playing dumb as an excuse to see you. In any case, he knelt down in front of you, picked up your foot and examined it.
His calloused hands gave you goose bumps, and it didn't get any better when he gently removed your shoe to get a better look at your heel.
And to confirm his suspicion, there was no swelling, it was just you pretending to be hurt.He wrinkled his eyebrows, looking at you, and just when you thought he was going to complain to you, the softest of smiles appeared on his lips, along with a shake of his head.
“Bloody pest...” He said under his breath, his tone betraying the lightness his voice carried, without any bite.
“Ah...Well...I guess I was wrong...” You say back, your voice as weak as that of a child who's just been caught up in something stupid.
Silence fell around you both, the only sound being your breathing in that cramped space.
“Are you all right?” You ask softly, looking at him with nothing but tenderness.It was hard to keep your composure when he was this close, making you sure you were far from getting over him.
And he wasn't too different from you, since it was hard not to remember everything he'd been through with you, all the sweet memories you'd both built up.
“Going.” He murmurs, letting instinct take him as he gently tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, taking a moment to look at you.
To really look at you.
“I wanted to talk to you...” You begin, seeing his expression change to a stoic one as soon as you've uttered the phrase.
You knew it wouldn't be easy to have this conversation with him. Simon knew how to hide his feelings very well when he wanted to.
“We've talked before... There's no need for that now.” His voice was now more serious, harsh.
“No. You talked! I didn't have a chance to respond!” You protested, gripping his arms tightly, as if you could hold that man down if you wanted to.
He grunted, narrowing his eyes at you as he took a deep breath. He wasn't ready to see you sad again, he couldn't take it this time.Simon was definitely a softie when he was with you.
You had him wrapped around your finger.
"Did I... did I do something?” You asked, your voice shaking from the nervousness you were beginning to feel.
He denied it with his head, not elaborating much on his answer.
“What was it then? Was it something that happened? Or... Or is there someone else?” You ask once again, your voice low and small in the face of the possibilities.
What if he had someone else? What if he broke up with you because of this other person?
Simon almost laughed at the absurdity of your question, he couldn't even think of anyone else, after you, there was no one else. No one.
“Nothing like that.” He retorted, looking at you with a certain estrangement. It wasn't possible that you were thinking so lowly of him.Not that he'd given you the best impression in the world recently.
You even asked him other questions, which honestly fell on deaf ears, as he could only watch the way your lips moved, your gloss gleaming in the dim light of the restroom. You were just as perfect as he remembered, if not more so.
No one was ironclad, and he was no different, so he silenced your chatter by bringing his face close to yours, his nose touching yours, his forehead to yours.
“I... Can you kiss me?” You whisper, giving him the best pleading eyes you can manage.
And fuck, looking at your sly little face, your pouty lips, he can't say no.
He couldn't deny you in a million years.Hearing you say please, in such a sweet voice, was enough to get his blood pumping.
When you felt his lips on yours, it was like a little taste of heaven. As soon as his lips moved against yours, it was as if a lever had turned on the two of you, and something gentle and innocent turned into a hot, languid kiss.His hands soon found their way to your hips, pulling you to him as he deepened the kiss even more.
His tongue almost invaded your mouth, roughly exploring every corner inside your mouth. You knew Simon, when he wanted it, he got it. Just as he could be the kindest man in the world to you, he could also be the devil on earth if he wanted to.
When his lips parted from yours, almost painfully, Simon felt a warmth run through his body as he looked at you.
Lips swollen from the kiss, face reddened, your mouth hanging open as you looked on with the slyest eyes you could muster.
Simon knew full well that he should leave, his mind screaming one thing and his heart another, it would be better if he cut off all contact, but he couldn't force himself to do it.
So since he was going to stay, he decided to make a decision. He turned you around, making your back face him.He pushed you against the door, gluing his body to yours, leaving no space between you.
It was better if he didn't see your face while he was taking you, because if he did, he wouldn't be so sure not to take you home.
Of not picking you up and hugging you while the two of you snuggled in his bed, under his covers. In his house. If he really saw your expressions at that moment, all the strength he had would go down the drain.
You felt your body shiver when he started kissing your neck, his warm breath hitting your sensitive skin.
The feel of his tongue on your skin, the way he nibbled and licked your neck, everything he did was enough to make your knees buckle.
“You smell so good...” He purrs, pressing his nose into the crease of your neck, taking a deep inhale.
“Fucking good...” He adds, his voice gradually getting huskier, making your body hair rise at the sensation of the vibration of his voice on your skin.
He simply loved your smell, it was something uniquely yours, he couldn't find it anywhere else. It made him feel at home, feel alive. It drove him crazy.
By now he was hard, feeling his cock throbbing inside his pants, almost begging Simon to get him out of the confines of his clothes.
And well, he was sure you were already wet by then, he could feel your wet panties brushing against him, not that that little dress did much to hide you, especially when you were leaning over like that.
“Did you miss me?” he asked in a purr, making you roll your eyes at his husky voice in your ear.
" A lot... A lot...” You murmured breathlessly, not caring that you looked like a bitch in heat for him.You heard him chuckle behind you, one of his hands going down to your mound, cupping it in his hand.His other hand went to your breast, feeling your hard nipple against the thin fabric of your dress.
“Lower your dress for me, sweet thing...” He murmured, tugging at the straps of your dress, encouraging you to expose yourself to him.
And you did, pulling your dress down to your waist, then letting it fall to your heels.Behind you, he took a deep breath and stepped back, looking at your naked body, covered only by your panties.
No bra, the sight that made him growl, literally. His hands were quick to go to your breasts, taking them in his hands, squeezing and playing with your nipples.
“Nice tits, eh? You wanted to show off for me? Walking around without a bra like that?” He asked, giving your breasts a firm squeeze that made you moan, feeling pain and pleasure at the same time, just the right amount.
“For you... Just for you...” You said under your breath, your hands hovering over his.
Before you could think of anything to say, he leaned into you, holding you tightly and preventing any way you could come up with to get away from him, not that you were even thinking of doing that.
“Pretty little thing...” He grunted, pressing his erection into the middle of your ass, rubbing against you hard, as if he were some animal in heat, out of control, feral. He kissed your jaw, open-mouthed, his breath on your face, his face so close to yours.
You could already feel your mind fogging up, unable to form anything coherent.
He was so focused on it, he didn't even see that you were wetting his jeans, soaking wet, already making a mess of his pants.
“Fucking hell....” He almost hissed behind you, before you could protest he lowered two fingers to your wet surface, teasing you.In a matter of seconds you had two thick fingers hovering over your entrance.
Simon was such a bastard that he knew what you wanted, so he began to tease you slowly, just putting his fingertips into your entrance, only to withdraw them later.
“Si-” you whimper, turning your head a little to look at him in a sly way.And well done, those little eyes sent a wave of warmth straight to his cock.
With your little moan you managed to get him to start massaging your clit in circles, your pussy getting even wetter.
The next thing you felt were his lips trailing down your back, leaving hot, wet kisses, completely sloppy. His hot, uneven breathing on your skin was enough to make your pussy clench into nothing, you wouldn't doubt that you could cum for him for so little.
“You're so beautiful....So beautiful...” He whispered, leaving a trail of hot kisses all over your back, going down and down, leaving a trail of goosebumps everywhere his lips touched.
He was aching, hard as a rock, but he was damned if he wasn't going to taste you before he did anything else.
From kiss to kiss he made his way to your pussy, kneeling behind you as he stared at your glistening hole.
Your legs trembled as he gave your cunt a lingering kiss, the direct contact of his lips with your bottom lips was enough to make your knees shake.The feeling increased even more when he put his tongue on your clit, caressing the sensitive little bud with his wet muscle.
You arched your hips, whimpering as he began to eat you out, in a way that only he knew how to do, not least because he knew every one of your weak points. He was too observant for that.
He took this as an incentive to continue, he began to lap you up like an animal, an animal that hadn't been dined for months.His hands spread your ass cheeks, opening you up in an obscene way, not that you minded. You were in heaven with his every lick, your cunt clenching around his tongue, your mind going a mile a minute as he pleasured you.
With every stroke he grunted behind you, the sounds coming from the back of his throat vibrating in your folds every time he produced them.Simon was a messy eater, your juices glistening on his chin as he fucked you, he kissed, sucked, licked, his mouth worked untold wonders on you.
He knew well enough when you were close, your tight pussy clenching and you whimpering even more, the sweet little moans that were better than anything he'd ever heard.
When you arched your hips once more, his nose going even deeper into your folds, his tongue darting in and out of your cunt, fucking you deliciously.
“Mh-T-Too close.” You stutter, feeling your legs begin to tremble at the sensation of your approaching orgasm.
“Cum.” He murmurs against your flesh, giving your pussy a long lick, only to start lapping at it again.And you obeyed like a puppy, squirting your juices into his mouth without any shame.
And he, even more shamelessly, swallowed it all, without spilling a drop. He literally licked you clean, keeping you nice and open to lick up everything you had to offer.His slurping sounds echoed in your ears, making you wet once again, as if you were a fucking well full of water, always leaking.
“Nice and clean.” Simon murmured, leaning back a little to see the work he'd done, his lips were all wet with your juices, but for him it was a more than delicious sensation.
Well, yeah, you were clean, just for him to get you dirty one more time. His to mess up.
Behind you, the sound of him undoing his pants echoed in the bathroom, making you shiver in anticipation. In fact, you hadn't even been able to stop your legs from shaking after your orgasm.
The soft 'thump' of his belt made you turn your body back a little, watching him undress.He smiled in a cheeky way, not at all ashamed to show off his big, muscular body.
The bastard was cocky enough to know that he had you salivating.And it was no lie.You got all hot and bothered when his jeans fell down, along with his boxers. It was quite a sight. His defined, muscular thighs, and they were so fucking thick.
Not to mention the sign of his cock, all hard and aroused, already leaking pre-cum. It had a pink tip, it was big, large and veiny. Sometimes you wondered how you could handle it.Simon was a big man in every way.
“Don't make me wait...” You whispered, feeling your cunt tighten just looking at him.
If it were any other man, you'd be disgusted at the sight of a full bush, but with Simon you'd get so wet, just remembering the friction you felt when he rubbed against you.
“Don't worry your pretty little head.” He said, patting your pussy, turning you forward once more.Behind you, you could feel the movements of his hand, the strokes he gave his own member, slowly and lazily, all he wanted to do was sink into you.
After a few strokes, he placed the tip of his cock at your entrance, rubbing against you. His pre-cum mixed with your fluids, making a delicious mess that he loved so much.
“Gonna put in, yeah?” he said softly, wrapping an arm around you, his hand gripping your throat and forcing you backwards.His hand was so big it could cover your entire throat, his fingers lifting your chin and forcing your gaze to his, making you even wetter somehow.
His other hand held his hard length in his hands, gently but surely guiding it into you, the tip of it entering you and stretching you, the delicious stretching you did to accommodate him.He pushed in as far as he could, as deep as he could until he was buried deep inside you.
Once he was all the way inside you, he stopped, giving you time to get used to his size as he always did.But today, you don't know what the hell came over you, you couldn't wait, your body and mind begging and pleading for him to move.
“Si....Please?Please...” You beg like a slut with no self-respect, acting exactly like one.
Fuck. To hell with everything.
When he heard you begging so nicely like that, how could he be capable of saying no?His answer was a sharp thrust, drawing out the sweetest of moans, making your eyes roll into the back of your head as he hit all your sweet spots at once.
“Tight as fuck, never changes.” He growls, using the hand that was previously holding his cock to curl around your hips.
Soon you had his fingers on your clit, making small circles, just the right size for you to see stars every time he thrust and massaged you all at once.Your already jumbled mind couldn't think of anything else, all you knew was that your pussy was being deliciously filled, in a way that only he knew how to do. No one else.
Your mouth was hanging open, letting out the most filthy moans, your arms holding on to the wall of the stall, trying to keep yourself upright as he pounded into you, hard.His balls slamming into you was such a dirty, impure sound.
You didn't even want to think what anyone would think if they heard what was happening in that stall.His cock slipped in and out of you, several times Simon took his entire length out of you, just to shove it in all at once. To have the opportunity to see your pussy swallow his cock in one go.
“You're going to get my cock wet, yeah? Are you going to be a good girl and do that?” He asks in your ear, rubbing his nose against your ear.
You tightened around him, letting out another whimper. He gave you a little grin, pulling your hair with his hand, and as soon as he was face to face with you, he kissed you hard.It was a hot kiss, with everything involved, Simon was a completely different man when he was aroused, and he showed it very well.
With the searing kiss, you felt the familiar excitement building in the pit of your stomach. Simon didn't feel much different, at least not with the sensation of your walls nestling him, keeping him comfortable and warm.
It wouldn't take him long to fill you, but you came first.Then his hand slid down to your clit, not leaving you quiet for a second, massaging hard on your swollen bud, making you go to heaven and hell at the same time.
Your gasps were swallowed up by his mouth, his tongue invading your mouth as he slammed into you. His rhythm was brutal, he moved back and forth with no mercy for you, the sloppy thrusts leaving you without a ground.
His fingers on your clit, the hot fucking kisses he was giving you right now, the way he was fucking you, all of it was leading you down one path. And you couldn't help it, there you were, cumming for him once again.You creamed on his cock, wetting his length as you moaned his name like a prayer.
“Good girl.” He purred into your lips, biting back a moan of his own as you tightened around him.
He followed right behind, cumming inside you without any warning, spurting his seed inside you, filling you up.Your legs went wobbly and you almost lost your balance, but he was quick to hold you up, giving you all the support you needed.
“You did good, sweet girl... So good.” He whispers tenderly, kissing you all over your face.
It was so domestic, him whispering and reassuring you softly, saying sweet nothings to you. It would be cute if you didn't have your cunt dripping with his cum, making his eyes darken every time he looked down.
The minutes seemed to pass slowly as the two of you stood like that, holding each other, relaxing as the high subsided.
And you held back so as not to say anything you'd regret later, and he bit his lip so as not to let out a simple, but true 'I love you'.But nothing lasts forever, and you knew you were going to have to leave.
He didn't want to be a jerk, and he wasn't going to leave you alone after having sex with you. That would be completely stupid. But it caused Simon to change from water to wine.
So he helped you clean up and put your clothes back on, waiting for you to say goodbye to your friends so he could take you home. At this point it was every person for themselves, Simon was clearly trying to keep his distance, and he was succeeding.However much it hurt.
The ride to your apartment was silent, nothing but the sound of his motorcycle going back and forth in the city, it was boring, but at least he was with you.
He was even a gentleman, taking you to the door of your apartment, hoping that you were inside, safe and sound. As you should have been.
“Aren't you coming in?” You ask quietly, looking at him almost shyly.
There was no pride in you that was greater than the desire to spend a night with him. Hugging each other, holding each other as if it were the last time.
He looked at you, those dead eyes that carried so many emotions at that moment. But he wasn't going to weaken, not now, no matter how much his heart begged him to accept the offer.
“I just came to bring you home.” He repeated, his fingers itching to caress your cheeks, cup your face and shower you with kisses.But he couldn't.
And that hurt more than any bullet.
He doesn't give you a chance to say anything, he just walks away and takes one last look at you over his shoulder.In the blink of an eye he was already in the elevator, leaving once again.
After that you knew for sure that Simon was an incognito, but something was wrong. He wouldn't act like that, it wasn't like him.
Maybe he'd really had enough of you, and you're too proud to admit defeat. But if he's got something, you'll find out.Even if it means pestering his work colleagues.
But really, not that Simon has noticed, but you're sure he wouldn't do much without his wallet for long.
Oh, and you kind of took it as an excuse to have something to see him.
He'd probably be on your doorstep the next day.
#ghost smut#ghost x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#fem!reader#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#ghost call of duty#cod x reader#cod smut#simon smut#simon ghost x you#simon ghost smut
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All Hands on Deck- Part 2
Pairings: Poly!141 X Wife!Reader.
Warnings: Smut, this whole things is filth, some angst and fluff thrown in.
A/N: I had no intentions of this Poly141 one shot i wrote turning into a series, but i couldnt get their family out of my head so i started writing and now look at us. 9k words into a part 2. Ooopssss. This is also not beta read, all mistakes are mine.
Word Count: 9713
Part 1
“It’s really not that complicated, Johnny,” Simon sighs, resting his head in his hands, his fingers pushing through the unkempt blonde locks.
“Sod Off,” the scotsman huffs as he grabs the three strands of hair on Kira's head again. You watch over the top of your mug. Two of your husbands are sitting on the couch, your oldest twin Kira sitting on the floor between her Da’s legs. One of your middle children, Isla sat between Simons. Johnny had been trying to learn to braid her hair, something you or Simon did most days.
“Left, over middle, right, over middle, and just repeat,” Simon coaches him, showing him once again on Islas long brown hair.
“Yeah yeah,” Soap grumbles as he tries again, earning a yelp from Kira.
“Ouch! You pulled my hair!” her hands on top of her head as she turns to glare up at her father.
“Sorry hen, didn't mean ta,” Soap apologizes leaning down to kiss her forehead. Simon finishes the braids in Islas hair, the 6 year old leaning back against his shins.
“Daddy i’m bored, can i go play with Theo and Joseph now?” She whines, batting her lashes at him. Simon gives her a small nod, and her smile grows. “Thank you Daddy, good luck Da!” she calls as she scrambles to her feet and flees from the room.
“Isla lets play cops and robbers!” Joseph yells as he meets her in the hallway, he peeks into the room giving you and the others a small wave before he bounds off after his sister.
You take a small sip of your caffeinated beverage, the warm liquid warming your stomach as you drink. John had made you a cup and promptly deposited it into your hands as you walked down the stairs this morning,you were still in your sleep clothes. He had murmured about having to go finish some papers in the office on the 3rd floor before he disappeared.
“Aye! Look at that!” Johnny exclaims as he ties the hair band around the end of the horribly loose and uneven braid going down Kira’s back. Kira’s hands go to the braid, small fingers running over it, she looks over at Simon, a frown on her face.
“Well you tried,” Simon laughs, before motioning for Kira to sit in front of him. His large hands carefully pulled the hair band from her hair. He runs his fingers through it and quickly re braids it into a neat french braid.
“You make it look so easy,” Johnny sighs, looking over at you, “both you and Si can work some witchcraft on their hair that I just can't get the hang of.”
“It’s alright love,” You smile as you walk over, sitting on the couch next to him. Satisfied with her braid Kira slips from the room, off to join her siblings in their games.
“I just want ta help,” Johnny mumbles, his arm slipping around your waist as he pulls you into his side.
“I know, but hair is not your thing, and that's okay, you help in many other ways,” you press your lips to his cheek, earning a small smile from him. “It took Simon a while to learn too.”
“Really?” Johnny murmurs his lip brushing across your cheek.
“Oh yeah, after we found out about the twins, and that we were having a girl, I think he spent every night until they were born practicing on my hair. Don't let him tell you he’s just good at it, there were lots of terrible braids and my hair being pulled,” you narrow your eyes at Simon and he gives you a small smirk.
Simon had spent almost every night braiding your hair, or well, trying to braid your hair. The first few weeks he mainly just yanked your hair out while you tried to explain the process to him. Once he made such a huge knot in your hair you were afraid you were going to have to cut it out. Kyle had found you sitting on the bathroom counter, sobbing because you couldn't get the snarls out. Thankfully after an hour of you and Kyle working on the knots you were able to get it out.
Simon had felt terrible about it, and didn't touch your hair for a week after that. It took you begging him to try again for the man to even brush your hair for you. Eventually he got good at the basic braid and you taught him how to do a french braid and a few other hairstyles.
“Does that mean i can practice on ye?” Johnny's big blue eyes flutter at you, earning a harsh roll of your own.
“Maybe, if you're good.”
Simon stands from the couch, stretching his large body, black tee shirt pulling taught against his chest. “I’m gonna go shower, Lovie, do you need anything?” He looks down at you in Johnny arms, your head resting on his shoulder.
“No, thank you,” you flash him one of your signature smiles, his own lips curling up slightly at the edges. Simon leans down, his large hands cupping your face as he presses a long slow kiss to your lips. Love, adoration and happiness poured into the kiss, he nips your bottom lip gently as he pulls away. Johnny letting out a low groan at the display.
“Steamin’ Jesus..” the Scotsman groans, his head flopping back against the couch as Simon walks away, your cheeks flushed.
“Such a perv Mactavish,” You laugh, and he lifts his head, narrowing those baby blues at you.
“Can’t help it Mo Chridhe, watching you kiss the others does something to me,” he whispers, large calloused hands gripping your waist as he hauls you into his lap. Your knees settle on either side of his muscular thighs. Your hands resting on his shoulders as he blatantly stares at your breasts. “Shame, Hope’s weaning, I fuckin’ love your tits like this.”
Air rushes from your lungs, your eyes fluttering shut as Johnny nips at the sensitive skin of your breasts. Your forehead rests on top of his head as his lips tease at the tops of your breasts, “Johnny…” you breathe.
“Miss you hen,” Johnny’s breath tickles your skin as he trails kisses up your chest to your neck. His hands knead the flesh of your waist as he pulls you down against his lap, his cock pressing against you through the fabric of his jeans.
“The kids…” You breathe, your breath coming out in small pants as his lips sucks on the curve of your neck and shoulder.
“The others can watch em’ they got their turn with you last night,” He mumbles.
He wasn't wrong, last night Kyle and John ravaged your body like it was lost treasure, the pair of them having cornered you in the kitchen after the kids had gone to bed. Simon was trapped in Theo’s room with the toddler sleeping against his chest, Theo had a cold and had been right miserable all day. Needing to be held by you or one of his dads. Johnny was putting Hope to bed, the now 14 month old going through a sleep regression, needing to be rocked to sleep. You werent exactly quiet as John and Kyle fucked you over the kitchen counter. Taking turns slamming into you, your screams and moans floating up the stairs. You know Simon and Johnny heard you, and it only added to your pleasure.
A startled squeak leaves your lips and Johnny shifts you, tossing you over his shoulder as he stands from the couch. His hand coming down on your ass with a sharp crack. He carried you through the house, you slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You passed the kids in the playroom, Kyle sitting in a chair in the corner, his eyes lifting from his book as you pass.
“Da? Why is Mama up there? Was she naughty? Is she going to time out?” Isla wonders, coming to stand in the doorway of the playroom. Her big blue eyes gazing up at you, although your view is mostly upside down you still see Kyle's smug smirk from the chair.
“Aye Bonnie, She needs a time out,” Soap ruffles her hair with the hand that isn't hooked around your knees. “I’m just bringing her to her room, go play with your siblings. Maybe Dad will bring the lot of you downstairs into the basement for a movie in the theater.”
“Can we watch Encanto?!?! Please Dad!!” Isla yells, bounding over to her Dad. Kyle glares at Johnny, as your children swarm him all calling out different movies they want to watch. Even hope babbles happily at his feet. You give a small wave as Johnny carries you up the stairs towards the master bedroom.
He flops you down in the middle of the giant bed you had custom made for all of you. You bounce slightly on the light green duvet, a laugh floating through the air. Johnny kicks the door closed, his hands finding the hem of his light blue shirt as he drags it off him. His toned stomach and chest are on display. He stalks towards you, like a lion hunting prey, his blue eyes dark with desire.
Your cheeks flame, heart pounding against your ribs. Johnny cage's you against the bed, strong arms locking your wrists above your head. His lips brush against yours as he slots his knee in between your thighs.
“Mmm.. want me all to yourself Johnny?” You whisper, looking at his face through half lidded eyes.
“For now.. Haven't had you all alone for a while. Not that I mind sharing you with the others��� I love watching them work you up, making you moan, bring you to the edge with their fingers, tongue and cocks…” His soft pink lips brush against your skin with each word. A shiver shudders through your body at his words.
He shifts to hold your wrists with one of his hands, his other coming to squeeze at your breast. He kneads the soft flesh there, a moan dragging from your lips. A small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
“Steamin’ Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he groans, pressing his face into the side of your neck. Your hips lift to brush against his, earning another small moan your Scottish husband. Johnny kisses up your neck to your mouth, his tongue invading your mouth. Your tongue tangles with his, your breath mingling. Heat sweeps through your body as you grind yourself on Johnny knee between your legs.
“Need you Johnny…” You whine softly as he slips his hand under your shirt. His cool fingers toying with your nipple. You’ve never been so glad you didn't wear a bra in your life. Your hands are numb from the tight grip he has on your wrists. Body trembling as he kisses you senseless.
Johnny wasn't always gentle with you in bed, he loved to overstimulate you, pushing you to the edge. He’d love to watch tears roll down your cheeks as you begged him to let you cum. He was probably the worst when it came to edging you, he would go for hours if one of the others didn't step in and save you. He was too impatient for that today, his large hands travel down your body, over the curve of your hips. Fingers slip into the waistband of your sleep short as he harshly tugs them down your legs.
“So wet for me already, want me to stuff you with my cock? Make you cum all over it?” His voice is raspy as he slides a finger into your slick heat. God those fingers were something else. He always knew exactly where to touch you to make you squirm.
“Please…” you pant, cheeks flushed, chest heaving.
He curls his fingers inside you before adding 2 more. Your legs tremble as you peek up at him from the mattress. His blue eyes burn into you, white teeth flashing behind his pink lips as he smiles at you.
“‘M gonna fill you up, put another baby in you just so i can watch your gorgeous tits grow again,” he shifts letting go of your wrists. Your hands tingle and burn as blood rushes back into them. The sound of a belt hitting the floor, the bed dips under his weight as he climbs back over you. His calloused hand grabs the puffy flesh of your thigh, hooking it over his hip.
Johnny moans softly as his hand glides over his thick cock a few times, the tip red and swollen. Precum leaking onto the bed between your thighs. You swore each of your men were hand carved by gods. Your cheeks burn as Johnny looks down at you, your shirt bunched up over your breasts, pupils blown wide.
“Can’t wait anymore Hen, I gotta be inside ya,” Johnny moans, leaning over you once again, his chest brushing yours. The smooth skin of his chest sends tiny jolts of pleasure through you as it drags across your sensitive nipples. You gasp as he slips through your wet folds, a low groan pulled from his lips as he thrusts into you.
“Fuck, harder,” you moan out, eyes rolling back into your head as he stretches you open.
You didn't have to tell him twice, he picks up speed, sitting back on his legs as he grips your hips in his large hands. He uses his hands to pull you up his thighs, pounding into you mercilessly. Red hot desire burns in your core, your walls fluttering around his cock. Each thrust brings you closer and closer to your release. He pushes one of your knees to your chest, changing the angle to hit deeper. His right hand leaves your hip so he can use his fingers to circle your swollen clit.
“You’re like a vice grip on me, dinnae if i can last long Mo Chridhe, you feel too good wrapped around me,” he breathes, his pace brutal.
“Cum for me baby,” You whimper, your own high teetering on the edge.
His expert fingers circle your clit faster, adding more pressure as he slams his hips into yours. It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re tumbling over the edge, Johnny groaning his release as falls forward. Shaky arms on either side of your head as his face dips into the curve of your neck.
You both lay there on the bed, Johnny half hard cock still nestled inside you, your chests heaving as you both catch your breath. You trail your hands up his back, fingers sliding into the hair of his mohawk. The damp strands catch on the diamond of your ring.
“You alright?” you laugh slightly, Johnny's entire body weight resting on you. His large form crushing you, but in the best way.
“Think i died and ended up in heaven, must be my guardian angel,” his lips brush against your neck, his stubble tickling you.
“Get off my wife, MacTavish,” Price's voice breaks through your post orgasm haze. The older man stands in the doorway, his back against the white wood door. His arms crossed over his chest, a teasing smile on his lips as he looked over your half naked state and Soaps bare ass.
“Sorry Cap’n, something about this vixen makes me wild,” Soap laughs as he gently pulls out of you, and rolls off you. He flops over on his back, lower stomach glistening with your mess. John rolls his eyes, and leans down plucking a towel from the half full laundry basket by the door and tosses it at Soap.
“Clean yourself up, Kyle’s stuck in the theater with the kids watching some princess film, and Hope needs a nap.” John walks to the bed, his thighs hitting the edge of the mattress as he wraps a hand around your ankle and yanks you down the bed to him. His light blue eyes trail over your body, his gaze settling on the glistening apex of your thighs. A flare of desire passes over his face before he meets your gaze again.
“I’ll rescue him, need me some baby cuddles anyways,” Johnny laughs as he pulls on his clothes. He leans over the edge of the bed and presses a chaste kiss to your lips, giving you a wink. “I love you Mo Chridhe,” he smiles, his hand ghosting over your lower stomach as he stands.
You blink a few times, head still fuzzy from your activities with Johnny. The bedroom door closes with a soft click, leaving you alone with John. His rough fingers trail up the smooth skin of your calf to your thigh. Skimming over the curve of your hip and settling on the side of your ribcage. His palm rising and falling with each of your breaths.
“Johnny take care of you Darlin?” He murmurs, thumb brushing over the side of your breast.
“He did, are you here to have your way with me too?” You breathe, teeth sinking into your plush bottom lip as you blink up at him.
“I wish I could Darling, I want nothing more than to make you scream my name, have my cum dripping out of you. But I have to get to base, Laswell called and said she had something for me to look at, but couldn't discuss it on the phone.” He sighs, his fingers trailing to your hands and he gently pulls you up.
God he hates the way your brows furrow, a small frown on your beautiful lips. He hates that he has to go, but they’ve been home for almost 5 months now. It was only a matter of time before something like this came up. He wished he could retire, the entire task force. But they were needed. He knew it. The rest of them knew it. You knew it. But it didn't make it any easier, knowing that one day your perfect bubble would pop. That your men would have to rush out the door at some ungodly hour to run headfirst into danger. It seemed to get harder and harder as each kid grew to understand what their dads did. How they might not come back.
You let out a long breath, and force a smile onto your face. “I understand, can I entice you into a shower with me before you leave?”
The look on your face was enough to make any man fold, let alone one as hopelessly in love with you as John was. He couldn't resist your big wide eyes blinking up at him, thick long lashes fluttering. He couldn't say no to you, even if he would get his ass chewed out by Laswell for being late.
“Simon better make room,” He chuckles, hands gripping your waist as he hauls you into his arms. Not caring that your bare cunt is leaking cum all over his shirt and jeans. He tosses his boonie hat onto the bed, your legs wrapping around his waist as you press your face into the side of his neck. His beard tickles your skin, as he shoves open the bathroom door.
Simon glances up in the mirror, a light gray towel slung low on his hips. Board chest and back on full display as he watches his captain carry you into the steam filled bathroom. His brown eyes track you in the mirror until Price sets you down on the cool quartz countertop next to him.
“Hi Lovie, you look thoroughly fucked, did John do this to you?” Simon muses, his chapped lips brushing your temple.
“No,” you chirp, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Johnny got his hands on me, John’s going to shower with me. Care to take another?” You muse, earning a small chuckle from the tall blonde next to you.
“Wish i could Lovie, but I promised a very persistent 7 year old I would take her and her twin to the library so they can get a new book,” he roughly towel dries his hair with a smaller towel before he hangs it on a hook.
Yu jut out your lower lip, “okay, fine,” you pout.
“Don’t pout, your mouth is far too pretty for that. I’d much rather it be wrapped around my dick tonight,” Simon practically purrs in your ear. His teeth nipping your earlobe in promise. Price returns, and shares a look with Simon in the mirror before he stacks a fresh set of clothes for the both of you on the counter.
“Be a good girl, I love you,” Simon kisses your lips softly before he leaves the bathroom.
“Love you,” You call after him as steam starts to billow out of the large walk-in shower, hot water cascading from the multiple shower heads. John settles between your thighs and grips the hem of your pajama top, pulling it over your head in one swift motion. Your own hands travel to the buckle of his belt as you quickly unlatch it, yanking it from the waist of his jeans and letting it tumble to the floor with a metallic clink.
Your deft fingers quickly undo the button and fly, one hand slipping into the opening to palm his half hard cock through his boxers. Your tongue darts out as you notice the wet spot on the front of his jeans from your and Johnny's mixed releases. John inhales sharply, large hands wrapping around your wrist.
“Darling,” he warns, his voice low and tight.
“What?” You blink up at him, feigning innocence.
“We have to shower now if you want me to join you, can’t keep Laswell waiting all day..” He warns, but you don't stop. His cock growing under your tender touches.
“We can shower…” You purr, leaning forward your lips gently grazing the top of his boxers. John's abs contract as your breath tickles his happy trail, the smattering of dark hair that disappears under his boxers. Your tongue pokes out, licking a small wet line over his boxers, his now hard cock jumping as your warm tongue flicks over the tip through the fabric.
The growl that leaves John's lips is almost feral as he grabs your hips and yanks you off the bathroom counter. He spins you, your hip bones hitting the edge of the counter, a delicious sting as they bite into the corner. John's gaze meets your in the mirror, his jaw set in a hard line, one hand pressing into the space between your shoulder blades. He forces you to bend over the counter, his gaze never leaving yours.
“You spoiled brat, you want to be fucked is that it?” He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back. “Want me to fuck you into the bathroom counter like the slut you are?” He tugs sharply on your hair, a gasp forcing itself from you.
“Yes, god, yes,” You moan, nipples hardening as they slide against the cold counter.
“I won't be gentle with you, I have things to do, I'm a busy man,” he warns, but it does nothing but excite you. It wasn't often you pushed John, you usually understood when he said he had things to do. But a part of you craved it when he was rough with you. John was most always gentle with you. As if he was afraid to break you, treating you like something to be savored. It was Simon who you often turned to when you needed someone to throw you around, leaving bruises on your skin. But there was a side to Price only you could draw out, when you knew he was stuck in his head of the things he needed to do. Lost in the responsibility of being Captain to the others, the one who inevitably makes the call for them to leave your home and storm into a warzone.
It didn't take much sometimes, just a little bratty behavior when you knew he was in a hurry. If you had been a good girl like Simon suggested you would have climbed into the shower without protest. Let John wash you tenderly under the stream of the shower and kiss you goodbye as you blow dried your hair. But instead you had pressed him, edging the line of his control by palming him through his boxers. The kitten lick through the thin fabric was the final straw for him.
Now as he pulled his shirt off, and shoved his jeans and boxers down to the floor you can't help but pant. You never take your eyes off him as he glares at you through the fogging mirror. One hand gripped in your hair, the other wrapped around his throbbing cock.
“This what you wanted? Getting me all worked up when you know I have to leave?” He asks, giving himself a few harsh strokes. Your eyes trail over his hand, your brain short circuiting as you watch him jerk his cock.
A sharp sting across your ass makes you yelp, johns palm cracking across the silky smooth flesh. “Asked you a question, I expect an answer,” he grinds out.
Y-yes sir,” your words tumble from your dry lips, tongue feeling stuck as he lines himself up with your still wet pussy. He nudges your entrance, and your eyes flutter shut. The tip of his cock slipping between your wet folds.
“Eyes on me,” he demands, and your eyes fly open at the exact moment he slams his hips home. A loud moan falling from your lips as he pounds into you. His hand is still gripping your hair. Your hip bones bite into the rounded edge of the sink. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the bathroom along with the water in the shower. The mirror starts to fog with your breath and the steam from the hot water. The mix of John’s cock driving into you and the humid air of the bathroom makes you dizzy. Your fingers dig into the smooth sink, grasping for purchase. John's cheeks flush as he continues his harsh assault on your body.
“You take my cock so well, such a good little cum slut,” He rasps. Your eyes roll back into your head as he releases your hair. His hands wrap around the curve of your hips so he can thrust into you harder. You were definitely going to be bruised later. But you didn't care, the sight of John losing himself in you was everything to you.
His fingers dig into your hip bones, short nails leaving small crescent shapes on the delicate flesh. “You like it don't you? Huh? Like the feel of my cock filling you up, want my cum to drip from your tight cunt like Johnnys, huh Darling? Want us to fuck another baby into you?’ his hand comes down on your already red ass cheek, a biting sting, he doesn't bother to soothe the red skin. His smile grows as his hand print leaves a raised welt, if there was one thing in common between all of your husbands was they loved marking you.
Whether it was Kyle leaving tiny love bites across your stomach and thighs. Simon's finger prints bruised into your waist. John's handprints on your ass. Or Johnny's teeth marks across the plains of your breasts. They all had their subtle or well not so subtle ways of letting the others know they were there.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum already, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” John pants, his thrusts becoming erratic as he gets closer to the edge. “Touch yourself, make yourself cum all over my cock like the good little slut you are.”
Your eyes watch his face in the mirror as you slide a hand between your thighs and rub fast, tight circles on your clit. Your fingers gliding effortlessly over the swollen nub, the mix of you and Johnny making the perfect lubricant. It only takes you moments to work yourself to the edge, your body practically humming already.
John shifts his hips slightly, hitting that spot inside you that drives you crazy. You both fall over the edge with a shout. John's hips slamming into yours with one last rough thrust as he stills inside you. His cock twitching, your walls milking him. You collapse forward, gasping breaths wracking your body.
John reaches forward, brushing the hair from your cheek. His fingers tuck the loose strands behind your ear. “Didn't hurt you, right?”
Your other cheek is pressed firmly against the smooth bathroom counter, the overhead lighting reflecting off the mica embedded in the white quartz. You give a small shake of your head. “No, I knew what I was getting myself into,” You push yourself up on shaky arms as John slips from between your legs. The mixture of his and Johnny's cum dripping down your thighs.
A harsh knock on the bathroom door breaks the moment.
“Price? Laswell called again, said she couldn't get ahold of you, asked me to tell you she needs you on base Asap,” Kyle's voice drifts through the bathroom door and you groan, turning to face John.
“Rain check on the shower, Darling?” Price’s fingers grab your chin softly.
“Rain check,” You agree leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his mouth. He pulls away all too soon for your liking, wiping himself off with a towel before pulling on his clothes. Pulling open the shower door you step into the hot stream, your body shaky and numb from the mind blowing orgasms. You tip your head back allowing the hot water to wet your hair, your eyes closed.
A soft hand slips around your waist, your eyes popping open to see Kyle. His short black hair is dotted with water that bounces off you. A smile forms on your lips as he gently pulls you toward him. The hard expanse of his chest is a welcome home for your head. He doesn't say anything for a few minutes, just holds you under the hot stream. His fingers absentmindedly stroking your soft skin.
“It sounds to me like you had a very eventful morning,” Kyle teases, his lips brushing your forehead.
“Oh? What makes you say that?”
“You know how Johnny is after he gets his way with you, he's like a kid in a candy store. He’s put Hope down for her nap and then proceeded to offer to bake cookies with Isla and Theo. Knowing full well he was going to have to clean the kitchen after that fiasco.” Kyle laughs, “and you weren't exactly quiet with John a moment ago.”
Your cheeks grow hot, even after all this time you still couldn't help but feel shy when the other men knew what happened without them. It's not that you were ashamed, it was more to do with your upbringing. Your parents were strict, sex was a taboo subject, you didn't even know the basics until they taught you in health class. Your parents weren't a huge part of your life, they chose to put distance between you and your family when they found out you were dating 4 men.
They showed face at your wedding though, playing the doting parents of the bride. But the cold shoulder your mother gave you when you told her you were expecting her first grandchildren told you everything you needed to know. They weren’t okay with how you chose to live your life, they just cared more about their image.
“Where did you just go?” Kyle asks, his fingers under your chin tipping your face up to his.
“Hmm?” you hum, brows furrowed.
“You got stuck in your head, where did you go?” His own brows furrow as he studies you. His long fingers brushing a drop of water from your cheek.
“I was just thinking about my parents…” you shrug halfheartedly. You tried not to let them bother you, telling yourself that you were better off without them. That your kids didn't need that in their life, they had 2 sets of wonderful grandparents who loved them more than anything. Johnny and Kyle's parents would find a way to give the kids all the stars in the sky if they could.
“Baby,” Kyle breathes, his face coming closer to yours. “You don't need them, don't get lost in their ignorance.”
“I know.. Just.. I don't know,” You mumble, biting the inside of your cheek hard, the coppery tang of blood distracting you.
“Let me make it better,” he whispers, lips skimming yours. Kyle's kisses were always soft and sweet, just like him. His lips are as smooth as butter, as soft as cotton candy. He always took his time with you. Each movement is carefully thought out to bring you the most pleasure. His hands tangle in your wet hair, but unlike John there's no sharp sting. Just tender touches along your scalp as he slips his tongue into your mouth.
The low moan that vibrates through your chest is enough to encourage him to continue. Kyle's fingers trail down your neck and spine to the curve of your ass. His fingers knead the soft flesh there, soothing the raised handprints left by Price. His fingers grip your thigh softly as he hikes it up over his hip, allowing his hard cock to brush against you.
“Kyle… please,” You whisper, rolling your hips into him.
“I’ve got you, Baby,” he whispers against your mouth. He turns you slowly, your back hitting the cool tile wall of the shower. He captures your swollen lips in another searing kiss, as one arm lips behind your back, causing you to arch into him. His other hand wraps around his thick cock as he slides into you. You moan into his mouth, your kiss becoming more clashing teeth and harsh breathing than before. Your hand grip his muscular shoulders, your nails biting into the smooth brown skin. You can feel his muscles flex and contract under your fingers as he languidly slides in and out of you.
“You’re so good to us,” he whispers against your skin, ‘always taking care of us, take such good care of our babies when we're away. You’re ethereal, a true goddess on earth just for us.”
Kyle's praise brings tears to your eyes, what did you possibly do to deserve him? Or any of them? Kyle drags his hips along yours, and your legs begin to shake. Your body was spent, between Soap and Price, you weren't sure if you had any more in you. But it doesn't stop Gaz, he just picks up his pace slightly. Nothing compared to either of the men before him, but enough that the coil in your stomach is now twisting tighter, and it’ll only be a matter of moments before you shatter in his arms.
Gaz’z lips trail down your jaw and neck as he sucks along the smooth skin there. Quiet pants being coaxed out of you with each one. His lips seal around your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity skittering across your skin.
“Fuck, Ky- I cant,” you whine, the burning in your core too much, as he drags his cock out of you before pushing back in at an agonizingly slow pace. His teeth graze your nipple as he pulls away. His mouth peppering your chest with wet open mouth kisses. His saliva mixes with the warm water leaving your chest shiny under the bathroom lights.
“Yes you can Baby, I know you can. Just one more, for me,” he coaxes, his hand slipping between you, to rub your overly sensitive clit. His fingers tapping with the lightest of touches, and you break. Your walls are clamping down on him. Tears roll down your cheeks as you come with his name on your lips.
His hips stutter as he follows you over the cliff, his own orgasm ripping through him as he lets your leg fall. Both your feet now firmly on the ground as he presses his forehead to yours. You both pants, the air between you becoming stifling with the humidity from the shower. You wrap your arms around his chest, allowing your head to lay over his rapidly beating heart. Your hair clinging to his skin as he adjusts the shower head above you, allowing more hot water to pour over the both of you.
You stay like that until you're both able to breathe normally, and Kyle begins to gently wash you. He brushes the plush washcloth that's lathered in vanilla scented body wash over your body. He kneels in front of you, gliding the cloth up your legs to your thighs and ass. He's gentle where prices hands have left a mark.
He presses small kisses to the bruises that are forming on your hips from the countertop. Before he stands, pouring some strawberry scented shampoo into his hands and working a rich lather into your hair.You both enjoy the quiet, neither one talking much except for when giving instructions to rinse off.
After you return the favor of washing Gaz, he gets out of the shower, pulling two towels from the warming rack and wrapping one around his waist. The other he secures around yours. He spends the next 30 minutes lathering you with lotions and blow drying your hair. He glances at you through the bathroom mirror as he pushes up the sleeves of his shirt. His white teeth flashing at you as he smiles.
“You alright baby?”
You nod, pulling on one of Simon's oversized black hoodies. It falls to the tops of your thighs, and you have to roll the cuffs of the sleeves up so you can use your hands. Kyle presses a kiss to your cheek, his warm lips lingering on your cheek for a moment.
“You look tired. Why don't you lay down for a nap?” he suggests, his fingers twirling a piece of your hair.
You could use a nap, but you have things to do. Anxiety gnaws at you, you know that they’ll be leaving soon. It's not hard to interpret the messages behind Kate wanting to see John on base. That's how it normally went, she would ask him to come to base to discuss something. John would disappear for a few hours, sometimes late into the night before he came home. He would talk to the others first, usually Simon, then Kyle or Johnny whoever he could find first. Then he would seek you out. He’d pull you into him, his beard tickling your cheeks as he peppered your face with kisses.
Then he’d lay it on you, tell you that they were shipping out, either in the morning or in the next few days. You always tried to be strong, to put on a brave face especially if the children were still awake. Then you would watch as he told each of the children what was going on. Kira and Joseph would hold their younger siblings as they cried, begging their fathers not to go. Your heart shattering in your chest as you watch the four men in your life try to reassure them that they would be back. Eventually the younger kids would settle, the twins distracting them with games or snacks.
It wasn't until they had left, and the kids were all in bed that you allowed yourself to fall apart. Huddled alone in your giant bed, surrounded by their pillows that you would let the tears fall. Sometimes one of the kids would climb into bed with you, their own attempts at comforting themselves. The time where your husbands were gone felt like wading through chest high mud. Each action needs twice the amount of effort than normal. You didn't have enough hands it seemed, there was always someone needing something. Someone had practice or a project they needed done. A baby was sick or going through a milestone. A faucet would leak or you’d forget entire meals when grocery shopping. You chew your bottom lip, spinning your engagement ring and wedding band around your ring finger.
“No i'm okay, I’m gonna go see if Johnny needs any help with Theo and Isla,” you smile softly pressing a quick kiss to Kyle’s cheek before slipping out of the bathroom.
You can hear Johnny talking with Isla and Theo, his accented voice easy to pick out. You pad down the hallway to the kitchen. From the large archway you see Johnny standing behind Isla and Theo who stand on little helper stools. Theos light brown skin is dusted with flour, and his brown curls are pushed out of his face with a pair of bright purple bunny ears. Isla peers over the bowl, her finger dipping into the dough. A glob of cookie dough makes it way into her mouth, a sly smirk on her lips as she thinks Johnny didn’t see her.
But the demolition expert did see it, you can tell by the way his mouth slants upwards, the slight shake of his head. Theo reaches into the bowl, his little fist gripping the chocolate chip cookie dough like it was a life line. But instead of shoving it into his mouth he uses his other hand, attempting to roll the dough into a ball. It squishes through his fingers and lands with a wet plop on the counter. His big brown eyes look up in panic as the sticky dough clings to his hands.
“Oi lad made a fine mess of yerself don’t ya?” Johnny laughs, scraping the excess dough from Theos outstretched hands.
“Da, do you think mama will like the cookies?” Isla wonders, using a dough scoop to scoop out portions of cookie dough, she plops them on a baking sheet. A little too close together but Johnny just moves the small mounds over a bit.
“I think she’ll love em, your mama loves everything you make for her,” he ruffled her hair with his clean hands. Coming to stand behind Theo as he helps him scoop out his own dough with another scoop.
“Sometimes when all of you leave, I can hear Mama crying… Papa left to go see aunt Kate.. that means you’ll leave again soon…” Isla looks down at the cookie sheet, her bottom lip between her teeth. You can see her shoulders rise as she takes a deep breath.
“It’s okay to be sad when we leave, lala girl. Sometimes Mama’s get sad too,” he crouches down next to her, his finger hooking up her chin as he looks at her.
“Why do you leave if it makes Mama and us sad?” She leans into his hand, her smaller hands coming to rest on his cheeks. Theo jams the cookie scoop into the bowl too young to understand the conversation.
“Well, papa, Daddy, Dad and I have really important jobs. And those jobs sometimes make it so we have to go far away to capture bad people, and stop them from hurtin others. Like how Batman stops the joker, and police officers catch bad guys.”
“Olice Officer! Wee woo wee woo!” Theo yells, the scoop clattering to the counter, as he claps.
“That’s right, “ Johnny laughs, “but we’ll always come back to you, you guys and your Mama are the most important things in the world to us. So we try our hardest to always come back. Can you do me a favor tho Lala girl?” He asks, and Isla nods eagerly.
“The next time you hear your Mama cryin’ I want you to give her the biggest hug ever okay? And don’t be afraid to tell her it’s okay to be sad too. I think sometimes Mama forgets she can be sad, because she’s so busy trying to make sure none of you bairns are sad.” Johnny gives her a soft smile.
“I can do that Da, can we finish the cookies now?” She grabs the scoop again and looks at Theo and Soap.
“Of course,” he smiles again and you duck out of the archway, just out of sight. Your eyes burn, but you blink back the tears and take a moment to compose yourself. You didn’t realize that Isla had heard you crying. You tried desperately to be quiet, but Islas' room was across the hall and she must've heard you while she went to the bathroom.
You take another deep breath and step out into the kitchen with a smile on your face as you walk to the large kitchen island.
“Mama! Mama!” Theo yells, “We are making you cookies!”
“Cookies? For me? Thank you baby,” You lean down pressing a kiss to his messy curls, the purple bunny ears poking you in the face. You look over the 4 large cookie sheets that are dotted with cookie dough.
“Wow it looks like you guys made enough for everyone, huh?” You smile at Isla and she nods.
“Yeah! Da said we had to triple the recipe because there are soooo many of us,” She explains, scooping another ball of dough from the large metal bowl.
“That's true, there are a lot of people in our house. Do you know how many?” You slip into a bar stool, your eyes catching Soaps above Theos head. He gives you a panty dropping smile and a wink.
“Uh,” Isla thinks hard for a moment, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “Theres Me, Theo, Kira, Joseph and Hope, that's 5… Mama, Papa, Dad, Daddy and Da. That's 5 too… and 5 plus 5 makes 10!” She beams. “There's 10 people who live in our house. Right Da?” She looks over her shoulder.
“That's right Lass, 10 people so far,” he raises his eyebrows suggestively at you.
“So far? What does that mean? Why are Mama’s cheeks so red?” She scrunched her brows looking between you and Johnny.
“Nothing baby, Da is just being silly,” you roll your eyes. Isla shrugs and goes back to her job. Between her and Theo it doesn't take long for the cookie dough to be laid out on every cookie sheet you own. You help Johnny by putting them in the large commercial size stove, even with your giant oven you can only fit 4 cookie sheets at a time. After Johnny cleans up Theo and Isla he starts to work on the dishes, you perch yourself on a bar stool and watch as he methodically washes each dish.
The sounds of Theo and Isla playing floats through the house as they play in the large playroom at the front of the house. Kyle comes into the kitchen and places his hands on your hips, dropping a kiss to the top of your head.
“The cookies smell good, good to know Johnny didn't mess them up,” he teases. Johnny looks over his shoulder narrowing his eyes at Gaz.
“Oi, it was one time, and it wasn't even my fault!” He huffs.
“No you’re right you just decided to let the twins measure everything out and they put half a cup of salt instead of a teaspoon,” Kyle laughs.
“Shall we talk about your lasagna, then?” You look up at Kyle and his smile drops.
“You said you wouldn't bring that up,” he grumbles, his hands squeezing your waist softly.
“Did i?” You feign innocence, batting your lashes at him.
“Cheeky woman,” Kyle mutters, peppering your face with feather light kisses.
“Keep that up and I might have to steal you for round 2..” Soap's voice is rough and low as he looks at you and Kyle.
Your cheeks blush for what feels like the millionth time today, and you shake your head. “You’re insatiable,” you roll your eyes, slipping from the stool and walking towards the door. “Don't let the cookies burn!” You call over your shoulder.
“Ah Steamin’ Jesus!” Johnny curses.
You walk down the hall, peeking your head into the playroom, to see Isla and Theo sitting in a large bean bag chair, Theo peering over the edge of the learning tablet Isla is playing with. A smile plays at the corner of your lips as you walk towards the staircase. You slowly climb the stairs, pausing briefly at Hope's bedroom door to look in. The 14 month old lays on her stomach, her bum up in the air, stuffed bunny tucked in her arms as she sleeps. You quietly close the door and climb the second staircase up to the 3rd floor of your house. There were 3 rooms up here, a small half bath, John’s office, and a guest room used only when Kyle or Johnny's parents came to visit.
You pull open the french doors to John’s office, stepping into the warm room. The hunter green walls lined with heavy oak bookshelves, his large desk sat in the middle of the room facing the floor to ceiling window. An old leather couch sits along one wall and you sink into the soft brown leather. Your fingers brushing across the cracked and worn material. You pull the fluffy green blanket off the back and wrap it around yourself. Your knees pulled up to your chest, your chin resting on top of them as you stare at the landscape outside the window.
Your fingers picking at the loose threads on the blankets. You came up here to get some alone time. No one usually ventures into John's office when he isn't home. Your mind drifts as you watch the fluffy white clouds roll by. Your eyes grow heavy as you enjoy the quiet.
You must've dozed off, your body jolting awake when a hand touches your shoulder. Your head whips up, eyes meeting a pair of dark brown ones.
Simon. Those eyes belonged to Simon.
The tension leaves your shoulders as he crouches next to the couch, his broad shoulders block the light from the window. His blonde eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. Those dark eyes studying every part of your face.
“Hi,” you whisper, voice still thick with sleep.
“Hi Lovie, you alright?” He asks, his large hand taking your much smaller ones.
“I’m okay, tired,” you shrug, your fingers wiggling against his palm. “How was the library?”
“Good, Kira and Joseph got 2 books each, and they brought home a few for the younger kids. They’re all in the kitchen eating cookies with Kyle and Johnny. Are you sure you’re okay?” He squeezes your hands again.
You sigh, Simon had a way of seeing right through you. Your other husbands did too, but they often erred on the side of caution when it came to confronting you about it. At some point or another they had pushed just a little too hard when you were having a bad day and you snapped. Basically chewing their heads off before you burst into tears. The other 3 had panicked, not sure what to do, their efforts to comfort you had ended with you hitting their chest as you told them to go away. Cursing at them for pushing you on things you weren't ready to talk about. They had quickly learnt that you would come to them when you were ready. But Simon on the other hand didn't care. He welcomed your outburst, taking each emotion with stride. He’d let you beat on his chest until your arms hurt. Until your anger gave way to your true emotions.
“No.. im not okay,” you relent. Simon just looks at you, waiting for you to explain.
“I know you're going to be leaving soon, and I know at this point I should be used to it. It's been 8 years of deployments. But it doesn't get any easier.. And now the kids are starting to get to the age where they ask questions, wanting to know what you guys do while you're gone. They're starting to understand that what you're doing is dangerous. I don't know how I'm supposed to explain to them what happens if one of you doesn't come home…” you trail off, feeling a weight settle on your chest.
“I can't promise we’ll come home, I won't lie to you and tell you that we will. I’ve never sugar coated that. But you’re stronger than you think Lovie, I know that you can handle everything here. You’re an amazing Mum to our kids. You’re so kind to them, so patient. I know it's hard when we're away. But I promise we won't be doing as many missions as before. Price has had a few meetings with Kate about us stepping back, training a new team to take our place. We don't want to lose any more time with you and the kids. Besides, I've heard through the grapevine that we have a more important mission here.” He brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Oh? What's that?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Something about knocking you up again,” he smiles like a cat who got the canary. He shifts forward on his knees. Large hands pawing at your sides as he drags you down the couch. His hand flicking open the button of your jeans. Your chest heaves as he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to the skin below your navel. Goosebumps erupt on your skin Simon flicks his tongue out, wetting your skin.
“Simon…” You breathe, your hands tangling in his soft blonde hair.
“I know Love,” he murmurs against your skin, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your jeans and panties, tugging them down in one swift motion. You reach for his own waistband, undoing his belt in one swift motion. His brown eyes burn into you as he slides his hand up the inside of your thighs and drags them through the wetness that pools between them.
“Such a good girl for me, always so ready for me,” Simon praises, his eyes straying to the bruise marks on your hips from when John fucked you into the bathroom counter. “Looks like someone already played rough with you today. How did that to you Love? Those weren't there when i left you in the bathroom this morning, tell me was it Kyle or John who bruised that pretty skin of yours.” He slips a finger into you, and you groan, your inner walls fluttering around his thick digits.
“John..” you moan as he curls his fingers into you hitting that spot that makes you see stars.
“Did Kyle fuck you too?” He asks, his other hand palming his hard cock through his boxers.
“Mmmm, yes..” you pant, your hands wrapping around his wrist as he fucks you with his fingers.
“Must be my turn then, huh,” he kisses you softly, his lips slanting over yours for a moment, stealing your breath away. “Want me to fill you up? Stuff you full of my cum like the others? Fuck a baby into you?”
“Ahh- yes, Si.. Please,” you gasp and pant. Back arching off the couch as you press your hips into his hand. Grinding your clit against the heel of his palm.
“Fuckin’ hell, such a good girl,” Simon groans as he pulls his hand from your dripping pussy. Shoving his jeans down his thick thighs, he grabs your ankles spinning you on the couch so your back presses into the cushions. Your thighs spread, ass hanging off the seat. He leans up on his knees, his cock nudging your tight entrance. One hand grips the flesh of your thigh as he holds you from falling off the couch. The other wraps around the column of your throat. He gives it a gentle squeeze, not enough to cut off oxygen just enough to restrict it as he bullies his cock into you.
Your vision blurs as he thrusts into you, his pace steady and even as he fucks you into the couch. Loud moans tear from your throat as he pounds into you. Your body trembles as his cock rubs against your walls.
“Cum for me beautiful,” He grunts, applying more pressure to your throat. Tiny black pin pricks dance in your vision as he picks up his pace. Your legs trembling, Simon's brown eyes stare into you, his hips faltering as he gets closer to the edge. You moan loudly, air flooding your lungs as he releases your throat, and rubs tight fast circles on your clit. Your body tingles from head to toe as your orgasm rips through you.
“Fuck!” Simon shouts as he stills inside you, his release painting your walls with thick white ropes of cum. He leans down pressing his forehead to yours as he breathes heavily. You stay like that for a moment, catching your breath as your legs stop trembling.
“I love you,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his once more.
“I love you too,” he whispers back.
You and Simon change into your clothes, and he settles you in his lap, big arms wrapped around your waist as you snuggle into him. Your quiet moment doesn't last long, the tell tale sound of boots on the stairs causes both of you to look over at the glass doors. John stands just outside of them, Hope resting on his hip, a small smile on his face as he takes in the sight of you and Simon on the couch. Hope babbles happily in his arms, her chubby fingers grabbing at the brim of his Boonie hat. He pulls open the doors and steps into the room. Hope clapping her hands as she sees you.
“Mamamamama” She babbles, reaching out to you, and you open your arms for her. John carefully puts her in your lap and brushes his fingers along your cheek. You glance up your eyes meeting his own, and that's when you see it, the hard lines around his eyes, the rigid set of his jaw as he watches you.
“When do you leave?” You ask softly, focusing your attention on the baby in your arms as she yanks on your shirt.
“Later tonight, after the kids are in bed,” he sighs, “I'm sorry Darling, I tried to get out of it. But Laswell needs us.”
Simon presses his face into your shoulder. There goes your bubble. Popped.
Next: Part 3
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare 2#polyamory#poly!141 x reader#poly tf141#cod modern warfare#cod mw3#cod#call of duty modern warfare#smut#141 smut
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Best friend Johnny who's first instinct when you get a boyfriend is to go down on you/finger you till you're squirmy and crying. Maybe edges you until you agree to break up with the guy.
and if he's TOXIC sends a small video of himself going down on reader or fingering her open. Most of reader is strategically covered by either johnnys hands (or mouth lmao) but based on her voice and Johnny's 'she was mine first' message - the now ex figures it out lmao.
oh I'm screaming at this, anon
Best friend Johnny who finds out that you have a boyfriend (maybe you only just started dating or just made it official or something) and it flips a switch in him.
He's been passively interested in you for awhile now, but because you rarely date, he'd been lazy about it. Content to tease you and leave you on edge, making you sit in his lap when you'd go out with friends, talking on the phone until you fall asleep, licking sauce off the corner of your mouth like the gross degenerate that he is instead of using a napkin - anything to get you worked up and squirming in your chair.
Didn't think he'd have to rush into a relationship or sleeping together just yet because the chase is half the fun for him.
He didn't think you'd actually be desperate enough to go out on a date with someone else, never mind get a boyfriend. At first he feels a bit betrayed, maybe even panicked. You aren't dating but it feels a bit like you're replacing him with another guy. Another man who doesn't feel an iota of what Johnny feels for you, who's only there because Johnny's been taking his sweet time instead of locking you down.
It's okay though; he won't make the same mistake twice.
I have a recurring terrible daydream of you losing your job and Johnny manipulating you into doing porn with him :(( and he promises that no one else will see - it'll just be a couple amateur videos that you'll hide behind a paywall and once you've saved up a nice little nest egg, that'll be it. Except he doesn't make a huge effort to hide your faces from the camera or keep himself from saying your name. In fact, he spends a lot of time filming the two of you just making out, always sloppy and heated.
And he wants to film every single day! It doesn't feel like a proper job where there's a separation between work life and personal life. When you aren't filming, he still wants to 'practice' - eating you out in the back of his car after going to the movies, making you blow him on the couch after you come back from a date. Monopolizing so much of your time that you barely have the energy to go out with your actual boyfriend. But when he makes you sit on his cock while you look over how much you made that month, you can't deny how nice it is to not feel stressed about your finances for a change.
It's horrifically embarrassing the day your boyfriend stumbles across one of your videos, but Johnny's the best at comforting you when you come crying to him. Says all the right things. Has every argument in the world about why it wasn't cheating. Gets mad at your ex on your behalf for scrolling through porn accounts in the first place. He says all of this while not so subtly ushering you into your bedroom.
#cod mw2#ceil writing#cod x reader#soap mw2#soap mactavish#soap call of duty#john soap mactavish#soap cod#soap x reader#soap x you#soap/reader
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A fool for you
Words: ~1.9k
Pairing: Soap x Ghost
Tags: fluff, confession, simon feels unworthy of love, johnny proves him the opposite
Warnings: None apply
Artist: @evisen
"A bloody flirt, that’s what you are." Ghost shook his head, a smirk hidden away behind his mask. The scot laughed heartily, bumping his shoulder against the other. Not minding it any attention. He was kind of used to bodily contact with Ghost, after all their missions together. It felt natural, comfortable. On both sides. "Could teach ya somethin here 'n there. Push yer luck with the lasses.”
The taller man chuckled lowly, his gaze intense as he studied Soap. He raised a brow, a flicker of amusement sparking in his eyes. "Is that so?" He mused. "Should I take notes, or do you prefer a more hands-on approach, Johnny?”
Soap smirked, a snicker rolling through his body. "Seriously though, Si... You never let anyone close. I'm worried about you." His voice got quieter as his tone got serious. Simon’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing at those words. He hated it when the sergeant expressed concern for him. It made him feel weak. Vulnerable. "I don't need your worry, Soap. I'm fine." He muttered, his voice gruff and defensive.
Johnny simply looked at him, staying quiet but not less observant of the building tension. The silence between them was deafening. Ghost could feel Soap's eyes on him, studying him, analyzing his every move. It made his skin crawl. He didn't like being seen, being understood, being exposed. Normally wasn’t one to simply back out of situations. But here he was. Staring up at the ceiling, avoiding that sky blue gaze.
After what felt like an eternity, he spoke up, his voice quieter than before. "You don't understand, Johnny.”
"Then explain it to me... I like to think I'm your best mate. So you can trust me. Not just on the battlefield." The sergeant smiled, brows furrowed. It was a funny display and Ghost's expression softened marginally at his words. He closed his eyes, letting out a weary sigh. He knew Soap was right. He trusted him more than he trusted himself, sometimes. When he opened his eyes again they were met with an intense and searching gaze.
"It's...complicated." The lieutenant grumbled, his voice sounding tired.
"I'm sure I can follow."
Ghost exhaled slowly, his eyes focused on a spot on the wall. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease a bit. "I don't let people in, Johnny. Because I can't afford to. Not in this job." He paused, his voice getting quieter. "We lose people constantly. I've lost people...people I cared about. Letting someone in means letting yourself care about them. And when you care about someone in this line of work...it's a liability. It distracts you. Leaves you open to weakness.”
It made sense, of course it did. Soap battled those thoughts way more often than he'd like to admit too. But in the long run, it was a mistake. After all, one cares about their teammates too, no? He shifted a little. "...You let me in.”
Simon's gaze snapped to the scot at his words, his expression flickering with a hint of surprise. As if that was something he had to point out. "That's...different." He muttered, voice growing quieter. His eyes trailed over Johnny's face, taking in his features, his expression, his eyes, the way his eyebrows furrowed together, the scar on one of them. He was silent for a moment, wrestling with his thoughts, his feelings. Then he spoke again, his voice a near whisper. "You're the exception, Johnny.”
"Am I now?”
"You know you are."
The taller man shifted in his position again. The proximity was both comforting and overwhelming at the same time. He could feel the warmth radiating off Soap, spreading through his body wherever they touched.
"No one else gets under my skin like you do. No one else understands me like you do. It's...dangerous.”
"Dangerous for who?" Soap was quick to ask back. A lopsided grin playing on his lips, not quite grasping the emotions this conversation held for Simon. What it meant for him to admit these things. He was so used to being close to the lieutenant that sometimes he forgot just how isolated the man usually kept himself. That he barely exchanged words with most, let alone hold a conversation. That hands would be broken so fast if anyone just so much as tried to touch the soldier with the skull mask. And then there was him.
Whiskey brown eyes stared at Soap. Ghost felt exposed, vulnerable. He hated it. Every single second. "For both of us, Johnny." He muttered, his voice a rough growl. "You think I don't have nightmares about losing you out there, one day? About seeing you get shot, or blown to bits, or captured and tortured?" A shaky breath was exhaled. "I care about you. More than I should."
A pause.
"You make me weak, Johnny.”
"And you make me strong." The stubborn sergeant flatly replied, standing his ground, looking into the eyes behind the mask. Eyes searching Soap’s face, accompanied by a bitter chuckle. "You think so? You're the one who's always charging into danger, throwing caution to the wind. You have no regard for your own safety. You're reckless and stubborn and careless." And loyal, creative, funny, a sight for sore eyes… His mind silently added the thoughts he would never dare to voice. Bloody hell, he could list a thousand things more.
Soap chuckled lowly. "I can afford to do that because I know yer always got my back..." He averted his gaze. "And I need to get back to you at the end of the day. That's outta the question.”
Simon's expression softened at the sergeant's words. The warmth now also spread through his chest. He reached out, grabbing Soap's chin and forcing his eyes back up at him. "You're bloody suicidal, Johnny. That's my job." His tone was a mix of frustration and fondness.
The scotsman smirked. It was his dumb, naive, lopsided grin that made something in Ghost stir every time. "As if I'll let you have all the fun alone.”
Ghost exhaled a low growl, a mixture of annoyance and amusement. He had half a mind to shake Soap by his shoulders, knock some sense into him. But there was something about that stupid grin that made his heart flutter. He hated it. "You're impossible."
"Been called worse before." The grin was just widening. Especially as he leaned a bit closer to the other man. His eyes studying the mask. Ghost tensed slightly as Soap leaned closer, his heart skipping a beat. The scent of him filling his nostrils. He wanted to pull away, to maintain his usual aloof demeanor, but he found himself frozen in place. His grip on Soap's chin loosening, finger tracing along his bottom lip. "You're playing with fire, Johnny." He muttered.
At that, the sergeant laughed, shaking his head slightly. "Ye saw me blowin up more stuff than fireworks going off at new years. Yer really think I'd be afraid of some heat?”
"One day that fire's gonna burn you alive." Simon exhaled a rough breath, his knuckles grazing against Soap's jawline.
"As long as that fire is called Simon Riley..." The shorter man whispered, looking up at Ghost through half lidded eyes, voice quiet. Almost... Vulnerable.
Ghost's heart was on the verge of just combusting, eyes snapping to the scot, his breath hitching in his throat. He felt his walls crumble, his carefully guarded facade slipping away. Hearing Soap say his name like that, so soft and earnest… It shook him to his core. Swallowing hard, his eyes searched Soap's face, looking for any hint of mockery or jest. But he saw nothing but vulnerability, a rawness in Soap's expression that mirrored his own.
"Johnny..." He whispered, his voice ragged. "You can't say things like that. Not when I'm trying to keep myself together."
He paused, his thumb brushing over Soap's lip.
"Why ye have to be so stubborn?" Johnny leaned closer to him, his lips parting slightly when the thumb brushed over them once more.
"I'm not the stubborn one here. You're the one who never backs down, the one who never listens. Always charging into danger like a bloody madman."
"So you saying this time the danger's you?"
Ghost huffed out a soft, gruff chuckle. He couldn't deny the truth in Soap's words. He was dangerous, a ticking time bomb, a man consumed by his own inner demons. "Yeah, Johnny. Sometimes I think you're safer out there in the field than you are with me."
He paused, his voice quieter now.
"You make me lose control. You make me want things I shouldn't want."
The sergeant didn't back down. His expression getting softer. "Such as?" The question was barely above a whisper.
The lieutenant felt his resolve crumbling further under the others' gaze. He could feel himself getting pulled in, drawn to Soap like a moth to a flame. He let out a ragged breath, his pulse quickening in his ears. "Things I could never have, Johnny."
He paused, his eyes flicking down to Soap's lips for a split second.
"Things I don't deserve."
"And who decided on that bullshit?"
A bitter chuckle rumbled in his chest. "You think I don't know I'm a mess? That I'm damaged goods? I'm not exactly the kind of person you bring home to mum and dad." His voice growing rougher as he went on. "I've done things, been through things… I've got scars, both inside and out that would scare the livin' daylights out of anyone."
"...That's not the Simon I see." The scotsman spoke up. "While those things are a part of you, they don't define you. That's not all there is to you. Despite what you think of yourself..." Looking down at the space between them, his hand found the others. Fingers delicately brushing over the back of the glove.
"...Loving you is easy."
Ghost felt his chest tightening. He felt raw, vulnerable, exposed. No one had ever seen him like this, had ever looked past his gruff exterior and seen the mess underneath. Not like that. He wanted to argue, to push Soap away, to protect himself from the vulnerability. But he couldn't. Johnny was like a drug and he was hopelessly addicted.
"You're a bloody fool, Soap."
Soap chuckled softly, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and affection. His thumb tracing comforting circles on Ghost's hand. "Maybe I am." He admitted. "But I've never been one to back down from a challenge, especially when it comes to you, Si. I'd rather be a fool for you than anyone else." His gaze held steady on Simon's masked face, unwavering in its sincerity. Ghost met that gaze, the intensity of their connection palpable in the quiet space between them.
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Johnny." The taller man warned softly, though the corners of his mouth tugged upward in a faint, hesitant smile.
"I know enough." Johnny replied softly. "And I'm not going anywhere."
#soap x ghost#ghost x soap#ghostsoap#ghoap#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#soap cod#john soap mactavish#cod mw2#cod#mw2#ficlet#watcher writes
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Gang x reader who is latina that talked Spanish in front of them for the first time. For example, the reader asked them to bring them something in Spanish and they didn't understand?? Also I love your works
Summary: The reader speaking spanish with the gang for the first time. Warnings: none Author's Note: short today, something bugging out w tumblr... oops PONYBOY CURTIS Pony actually asked you to speak spanish with him before he heard you saying it naturally. He needs to study for his spanish test and asked you to help him with pronounciation. Because of this you're now helping him everyday and testing his knowledge by asking him random questions. He thinks its super cool that you can speak more than one language and finds it really attractive because he really values intelligence. JOHNNY CADE Johnny isn't all that smart when it comes to different languages. He'll pick up on the basics like "hello," and "i love you" (which he never says in spanish because he feels like his american accent might make embarrassing) But everything else that you've tried to teach him just flew over his head. One day, you were completely zoned out and thought you were talking to your parents and asked him for a glass of water in spanish. He looked so confused and you had to explain it to him. he made more of an effort to learn your language after that. SODAPOP CURTIS
Soda took spanish in school too, but he has the most god-awful accent and he rarely uses it so he's lost most of his knowledge. He refrained from speaking spanish with you because he thought he'd mess up and say something wrong or embarrassing. He only started after you initiated it. He vaguely understood what you were saying and completed your task accordingly. You praised him for his understanding and he really enjoyed having you proud of him. he started learning just so you could smile and say that he was doing good. STEVE RANDLE Steve also took spanish with Soda, and he didnt goof off in class, he actually paid attention!! He's pretty good at spanish, he can hold a conversation on his own, which is technically how he met you. But he hasn't heard you speak spanish in a while, so when he does hear you ask for something in your native language he's so happy that you're comfortable speaking with him. He tries to initiate more conversations in spanish and also gets you to teach him a lot more. TWO BIT MATHEWS Two Bit took spanish but he was always goofing off in class and crumpled and threw more papers than he wrote on. He knows the most basic of the basic words, but other than that he's totally clueless. Especially when you talked to him in spanish because you can speak kind of quickly. He's a little ashamed that he cant understand you, and he's afraid to admit it, but you understood and just repeated yourself in english. He made it his goal to learn a little more basic phrases and actually understand you a little bit. DARRY CURTIS Darry's grades had always been at the top, that includes his spanish class. He was really good and could understand a lot. He was pretty keen on trying to be fluent but those plans fell through. He's not kept up his practice so he thought you would help him once and a while, but he's too shy to ask you to start speaking your native language with him. He waits for you to say something in spanish by mistake to respond and make it known that he's actually pretty damn good at spanish. After that, he's always trying to talk to you in your mother tongue! DALLAS WINSTON This man doesnt know shit and you know it. He never showed up to his spanish class, and when ever he did he'd just write obscenities on the chalkboard. The only spanish words he knows are "hola, chica" which he uses to very crudely pick up girls with that DAMN NEW YORK ACCENT. and cuss words, he knows a lot of spanish cuss words. Just to get on his nerves he'll just spew random cuss words in spanish when he feels like it. He once got you soooo pissed that you just started yelling at him in spanish. (do you guys remember that one clip of the goth girl yelling at this white boy in spanish at school or is it just me) he thinks its lowkey really cute and he'll rub it in your face that you don't 'scare' him. HES SUCH A DICKHEAD WHY IS HE SO CUTE RAHH
#shroomsroom#the outsiders x reader#clara'sroom#dallas winston x reader#steve randle x reader#dally winston x reader#johnny cade x reader#sodapop curtis x reader#darrel curtis x reader#darry curtis x reader#ponyboy x reader#ponyboy curtis x reader#pony curtis x reader#two bit matthews x reader#two bit x reader#two bit mathews x reader#sodapop and reader#sodapop x reader#soda curtis x reader
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He Canceled Hot Girl Summer 🔥
Series master list 18+ MDNI
The pregnancy test incident...|
Aaliyah had come storming into your apartment with another bag of pregnancy tests. She was like a bat out of hell as she pushed Jay away from you, who was slumped over the toilet, giving up your salmon. Rosette was busy pacing back and forth as she was hastily going through your period tracker app.
You were late late, and it was freaking all four of you out. “Ugh what's the verdict, Rose?”
“Who cares!? Piss on these sticks next. They all can't be loud and wrong!” Aaliyah shouted as she helped you off the floor. She tore open the box and shoved the pregnancy test into your hands.
Jay rolled her eyes, “she's already taken seven different tests. Face it she's done for.”
“I'm counting the days and weeks, and I keep coming up with the start of summer.” Rosette says, she's in tears, “who were you with?”
“I hope it wasn't that jack ass who could barely hold his liquor. His poor hair dye job barely made up for the wort on his nose.” Aaliyah snears.
“No, I didn't let him hit. His breath smelt too bad, and I wasn't drunk enough. I've only been with that guy with the mohawk.” You're sighing in relief as you pee on the stick.
“You're fucking with me!” Aaliyah shouts, “You let that fuck boy hit raw!”
“To be fair.” Jay said, “She's got an implant. We all keep plan Bs on hand.” she's the only one not freaking out.
“What are you gonna do?” Rosette says through her tears.
“Get an abortion is the only right answer.” Aaliyah folds her arms across her chest.
“I can't afford that, I just started working!” You whine, “I don't wanna take the pill and be done for a week!”
“Ask Autumn for the cash.” Jay suggested.
“He will murder me.” You cry thrashing about just being dramatic. “I can see it now ‘You said you were careful damn it!’”
All four of you sigh in defeat at the reality of you asking Autumn for help or risk putting your summer on hold.
Chapter 3: Brunch with a side of almost Tyler Perry Drama.🥐
Sunday brunch-day, a tradition as old as time for a woman like you. Brunch on Sunday was always something you and your friends did after a Saturday night full of sin. When you lived back in the States, Sunday brunch was Sunday Service and after Sunday dinner, and each time, you had a throbbing headache. So when you finally moved out of your parent's home, Sunday service became brunch, and with the help of mimosas, the hangover headache faded to a comfortable buzz.
Now, though, since the cancellation of what was supposed to be your hottest girl summer ever, your Saturdays were spent nursing Omari and your Sundays spent with Autumn and his boyfriend or girlfriend of the week. Today, though, there would be no third wheeling with Autumn and his newest hunch buddy. Instead, you were meeting the father of your baby.
“So” Autumn said as he pulled out a chair for you to sit in, “You got any idea on how we're doing this?” He took up his spot next to you, leaving the seat across from you both open for Johnny. “I was thinking good cop bad cop?”
“We” you readjust the blanket on Omari, he was still sleeping in his little pram, “are going to be nice.”
“Hm, you can be nice, this is still the fuck who ran out on you.” Autumn crosses his arms.
“He was a one night stand, gone wrong.” You sigh in exasperation, “besides it's not like he knew.”
“Yeah yeah whatever. I'm still confused on how I gave you the money for the abortion, sent Rossette with you and you both ended up spending that money at fucking Tesco.” He grumbled.
“Mistake one, you sent Rosette. She heard Omari's heartbeat and started crying, and then I started crying, and the nurse was confused, thinking we were a couple. If you wanted him returned to sender, you should have had Aaliyah go with me.” You shrug and pick up the menu and start reading over it. “Aaliyah would have performed it herself with only me and a set fucking steps, still would have taken the money to go shoe shopping after.”
“She had to work.” He leaned over you to check on his nephew, “but I'm glad he's here, couldn't imagine life without him.” There's a soft smile on his face.
In the beginning, he, like your father and eldest brother, had been angry. When Omari came into the world kicking and screaming, they all nodded their heads and said he was gonna be strong and a handful. Your mom, while hurt that the baby came before marriage, got over herself quickly the moment she saw the ultrasounds and proudly started calling herself ‘Mimi’ because she was too fly to be a ‘Granny' or a ‘Nana’ and her own mother had already taken the name ‘Gigi’.
“Bonnie lass.” That thick Scottish accent rang through the air above the quiet chatter of the patrons of the café.
You looked up to see the hostess showing Johnny to your table. He was exactly as you remembered him, broad shoulders, muscled body, lopsided grin, and that stupid mohawk that refused to be tamed. His gorgeous blue eyes lured you in, and you're reminded of exactly how he managed to ensnare you to begin with. Slowly, you stand up and step around the pram and hug him, just to be polite and definitely not to secretly feel him up. He hugged you back tightly, almost like he didn't want to let you go.
“Johnny, it's good to see you.” You stand back to get a good look at him.
“An’ ye still look as gorgeous as ever.” He smiles even wider, and he glances down at Omari, who is starting to wake up.
There's a cough, and you realize that he didn't come alone. The pretty boy from a year ago is with him, and he's holding a pastel baby blue bag. “We weren't sure what to get him, so we got him a bit of everything.” He offers the bag to you, and you take it with a smile.
“Kyle right?” You say as you all get situated around the table.
“Yeah, that's me.” He rubs the side of his neck and glances at Autumn, who is frowning.
It's a little awkward as the waitress comes by and takes everyone's order. You suddenly find messing with Omari's blanket more interesting than breaking the ice as Autumn orders the strongest drink on the menu. You roll your eyes, wishing that you weren't breastfeeding and could partake in some liquid courage. After the waitress leaves (no doubt is she gonna be watching this real-time Tyler Perry drama), you clear your throat and pull your son out of his pram.
“So.” You look at Johnny, and for a moment, you feel bad that this incredibly intimate moment is being held in public. The man is fighting back tears, “This is Omari Malachi Knights.” You're careful as you turn your large 99th percentile baby to face his dad. “Oma baby, this is your father, John.”
Omari is, of course, more interested in grabbing your hair and trying to yank it into his mouth. He only gurgles and coos, taking in his surroundings. You can feel your wig slipping at his little tugs, and you do your best not to let him embarrass you.
“Bairn looks jus like me.” Johnny says with a slight laugh.
“Unfortunate.” You manage to pry his little fist from your hair, “The audacity to look like you and I carried him for nine months.”
“He seem ta hav’ a penchant fa hair pulling, but he gets tha from ye.” Johnny laughs and tips his head back as he does so.
You gasp and laugh, too. The joke is a stark reminder of the fact that the father of your child is a clown. Him being funny is what led to Omari being here in the first place. Kyle only sighs and sinks into his seat. Autumn only frowns even more.
“Ain't shit sweet, my guy.” Autumn says, bringing your laughter abruptly to an end. He hasn't smiled or laughed yet, and you both know that joke was funny.
Johnny furrows his brows and looks at Autumn. The uncomfortable tension is starting to creep back. “Ach, jussa joke mate.”
“Pay him no mind. He's grumpy before he gets liquored up.” You shoot your brother a look to say ‘be nice’.
“I just don't want us to forget the main issue, we handle that then we can ah kee kee and hah hah.” He shrugs and leans back, “John, do you plan on doing right by my sister and nephew?”
Johnny genuinely looks offended at the idea of not doing right by you both. He looks Autumn square in the face and nods, “Yea, plan to, if my Bonnie lemme, I'd make a honest woman out ‘f her and her and Omari would have mah last name.”
Kyle chokes in shock and looks at Johnny with wide eyes. He is practically willing his friend to stay on script. You can tell they probably had talking points practiced for this meeting and Johnny really said ‘Fuck it. We ball.’
You stare at Johnny and absently bounce Omari in your arms. You were sure it was just him posturing against your brother, not wanting to be cowed. Your eyes slide over to Autumn, who has an unreadable look on his face, jaw clenched. The waitress chooses this time to come back to the table and silently give everyone their drinks. She takes your food order, compliments Omari sweet little toothless grin and hurries the fuck on (probably to tell her coworkers the drama she's been spying on).
Finally, Autumn sips his drink and nods his head, “That’s what's up.” He smiles, like Johnny passed some test that only men were able to give and pass. “Oma is a real handful, and I can't always help my sister out with him.”
You watch as Johnny visibly deflates and breaks into a grin, “Bairn is a MacTavish, he ain't s’posed to be easy.”
You raise an eyebrow at him calling Omari a MacTavish but make no comment on it. Instead, you check Omari over to make sure he doesn’t need a change, “You wanna hold him, Johnny?” You move to stand up, but he's already moving to help you out of the chair. His hand rests low on your back, and you have to suppress a shiver that wants to shake you. “I'm not letting you hold him standing up, and I can sit and stand on my own.” You pout.
“I ken tha, but ye cannae be tae careful.” He says.
You shoo him back to his seat and placed the baby rag on his shoulder. You're acutely aware that there are eyes on you as you do everything one handed. You look at Omari, and his little blue eyes are staring back before he gets to making his little baby noises, “Be good yea, no fussing.” You whisper, and then slowly, you show Johnny how Omari prefers to be held. He likes to sit up so he can see and still needs his back and head supported.
“Oh, he'sa big'un.” Johnny is all smiles as he watches his son. Omari looks up at him and immediately starts cooing and clutching to his shirt.
Kyle snorts, “I'm surprised your ugly mug hasn't scared him yet.” But he too is also smiling.
“Nah, tha would be his uncle Si tha scares him. Ach an’ wot ye mean mah ugly mug!?” He playfully glares back, “we all cannae be a pretty boy.”
You watch as the two of them trade barbs back and forth in between gushing over Omari. “Hm strange, he doesn't do well with new people.” You sip your drink.
“That's the boy's dad, of course he knows.” Autumn teases.
“He's four months old, don't tell me you're starting to be superstitious like mom.” You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Hmm” Autumn hums, “Your stomach sat low the entire pregnancy, and you had to return all that pink, so yeah.”
“How was the pregnancy if you don't mind me asking.” Kyle says, “It wasn't too difficult was it?”
At this, Johnny stops talking in some strange language to his son and looks up. He's a bit worried, “Yeah was it okay?” And the sincerity in his voice makes your heart melt.
“He was a fine pregnancy to carry, but pushing him out took forever and a day and by the time ten hours of labor had come the doctor was saying that if he didn't come out by sunrise, he was getting cut out.” You laugh, “Omari must have heard the threat because he was here at the crack of dawn the next day.”
“ ‘m glad ye had a safe delivery, Bonnie.” Johnny is looking at you, and he looks down at Omari. There are words he wants to say, but it's obvious he won't say them in front of Kyle and Autumn.
Taking pity on him, you stand up and grab the baby bag, “I gotta feed Oma, mind coming with me to keep me company?”
“Uh yea.” He stands and follows you to the little family room that the café has. It's got a changing table and a couch for breastfeeding purposes.
You close the door, lock it, and unbutton your shirt, “hand him here.” You say, and he does. It always takes a second for Omari to settle down to eat, but when he does, he latches and digs his little gummy mouth right into your nipple.
It's quiet as the two of you sit there, not awkward like earlier, and he is watching you closely. At once, you both try to speak.
“Johnny-”
“I'm sorry.”
You both stare at each other, and his blue eyes have unshed tears in them. You avert your gaze and sigh. “You first.”
“I'm sorry ah wasn't here chuilein.” He whispers. “Ye shouldnae had ta do it alone.”
“I was not alone, Johnny.”
“Ye ken wot I mean.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “despite tha alternative look tha mohawk gives me, I'mma family man at heart, and I wan’ us to be one.”
You nod your head once, “I'd rather us try co-parenting first Johnny. And if you're gonna do this, you can't half ass it.” You look him dead on with squinted eyes.
“I wouldnae dream of it.” He says, “What exactly do you need and what does Omari need, and I'll get it for ye.”
“I don't need anything.” You laugh, but he isn't laughing.
“Chuilein, I'm serious. I know you have your brother and friends, and they help but he's mah bairn, and rather you acknowledge it or not ye’re mah hen and I want to do everything for you both an’ make sure he has his mum an’ da in the picture.”
You sit there quietly and sigh, “we will give it a trial run. I'll let you come to my house on days I work from home so you can watch him while I work. And as we get more comfortable, we can talk about custody arrangements.” You nod your head, already knowing your people aren't gonna be happy about you diving head first into this. But Johnny has a point, you yourself didn't grow up in a single parent household, and you wouldn't subject Omari to that. Besides, your friends and brother couldn't always help, and daycare ate a hole in your finances, not to mention your lack of alone time and just time to be yourself.
You were feeling less like a bad bitch and more like a sad bitch these days. You didn't look like you were going through it, but gots 2 be glued, lace fronts (with half way melted lace), and concealer could only do so much. It would be nice to be even close to who you were before you dropped your baby and your world became about him. You didn't mind, but there was only so much you could take and as quiet as it's kept the first two months of motherhood you almost caved and went back stateside.
You wince as Omari starts gumming at your nipple and you switch him to the other breast. “Don't make him get attached just for you to decide you don't wanna do this.” You sigh.
“I won't do tha ta ye or him.” He gives you a reassuring smile. “are ye okay wit me tellin’ mah folks?” He asks, his cheeks are little red, and he won't look at you completely.
“Are you choosing now to be shy, John?” You nudge him slightly in the side.
“Nae, jus’ don' want ye tae freak out the moment mah mum and sisters demand fa me ta bring ye both home.” He’s pouting now, and his cheeks are really blushed.
“Sure. But as far as going to see them, let's give it a minute.” You agree.
After brunch, Kyle says that he's got plans to meet up with a friend and wishes Johnny good luck with the rest of his Sunday. You're not dumb, as the hot bitch group chat is going off and Rosette is saying that she's about to get her back blown out by that pretty boy. Autumn kisses you on the cheek and makes you promise that you'll call tonight, it's his way of reminding you to not sleep with your baby daddy or you'll end up with ghetto twins. And just like that you find yourself at your apartment watching Johnny get peed on because he was too slow to change a diaper.
In the end, you both decided to post a picture of Omari and Johnny on his private Facebook. He tagged the post with his mom and sisters. And put the caption as
‘Meet my twin. Omari M. MacTavish’
(You decide not to kick up a fuss about the MacTavish part.)
It wasn't even thirty minutes before his phone was blowing up with FaceTime calls from his mum and sisters.
Johnny decides to take the call in the nursery. He's got Omari in his arms, and he carefully sits down in the rocking chair. He checks on his little mini me and then answers the call. It's his mom and one of his oldest sisters. Both of their faces were in pure shock.
“Hey mum.” He whispered shyly, “can't be too loud. I'm trying to get him to nap.” At this point, Omari makes it his mission to start fussing and fighting sleep like it's an mma match. His little cries and whines are the only thing on the call.
“A bairn! A wee wean! Johnny, how did ye hide this from us?” His mum is in tears.
“Long story mum.” He really doesn't want to explain to her that her grandson is the product of a wild one night stand. His sister Davina only gives him a knowing look.
“Ach, f'course ye get wrapped intae this.” Davina frowns, “where's his mum?”
“Takin’ a shower. Mah, poor chuilein been doing it on her own if her brother and friends cannae help.” He looks down at Omari. He clearly has no interest in taking a nap. So he turns the camera to face him and his mom coos immediately.
“Oh Johnny, he looks jus like ya da with those eyes.” She sniffles “are ye on leave? When will we get tae see him and his mum?”
“I am, an' we're workin on it.” He sighs, “she wants ta do co-parenting and-”
“John MacTavish ye do plan on marry'n the girl!” Davina scolds, “Mum didnae raise you tha way.”
“It's not that simple. She wants to take things slow. ‘m jus happy she wants to let me ‘round.” He explained.
“Well,” his mum smiles, “be sure ta send me plenty ‘f pictures of mah newest grand bairn, an' ye make sure ye do everything she says.”
“Yes mum.” He turns the camera back to himself and smiles, “Gotta go, it's nap time an’ he really is kickin uppa fuss.”
They say their ‘I love yous’ and there is a promise to call as soon as he gets a moment to himself. Johnny looks down at Omari and grins as his son fights sleep. He is positive that things are gonna work out. And he adores the feeling that he gets holding his son.
There's no way things could go left…right?
Tag list: @evergreenlake @royalty-cashinout @leahnicole1219 @gxuxhdjdu @daft-queen
#black!reader#john soap mactavish#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#Johnny soap mactavish x black!reader#Johnny MacTavish x y/n#reader is female#reader is black
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Uhh bsky seemed to like this thread when I posted it, so thought I might put it here too.
It's the only smut I've written (and man am I in awe of people who can just write smut all the time, I was in struggle town lads)
Top!Ghost, Bottom!Soap. Little hint of praise kink, I just want Ghost to call Soap a good boy and have Soap's brain melt over it.
Good Boy
In Soap’s defence, it had never happened before. He’d been praised for his work.
A clap on the back and a ‘Good work, son’ from Price.
A cheeky grin and a ‘There’s a good lad.’ from Gaz
It felt good to have his work recognised. It left a warm, comforting sense of pride in his chest.
But when Ghost rested a heavy hand on his shoulder, leaning over with hot breath against his ear to say: “Good boy, Johnny.”
It nearly takes him out at the knees. The blood rushes south so fast, he nearly blacks out. As he walks away he can feel Ghosts eyes on him, face hot as the stumbles the first few steps.
The prick looks amused. Fucker.
It could have been fine, though, a one-off oddity that he can safely ignore until he’s in the privacy of his bunk.
But it wasn’t just once.
He swears Ghost is doing it just to fuck with him now.
He's sly about it, never saying when it's obvious or going to draw attention.
It's almost like he waits until Soap feels like he's back on solid footing before he casually drops it into conversation.
It was a quick murmur as they leave the helo after a mission, the sound of the chopper blades drowning out everything else as the hand on Soap's shoulder sears him like a brand.
Or an offhand comment when they've gone for a smoke, the words cheeky as Soap hands over the rolled cigarette.
The others don’t notice, too used to tuning out their banter by now. The addition of the occassional 'Good Boy' blending in with all the other colourful commentary they normally keep up.
Which is probably why Ghost feels ballsy enough to pull that shit during a mission.
After Soap has a frantic few seconds disarming a tangle of trips rigged to blow the building out from under them.
"Building safe, copy." he radios out, hands still shaking from how close that call had been.
“There’s a good boy, Johnny.” comes the heavy rasp crackling over the speaker.
On comms for fucks sake! Soap wants to fuckin throttle him.
Ghost is doing it just to get a rise out of him. And he hates that it's working.
Even when they’re at mess afterwards, hail and hearty with a successful mission right behind them, he can't seem to help teasing Soap.
“Nice job on that last one, Tav.” Gaz slaps him on the shoulder as he takes his seat.
“Youngest in the SAS for a reason.” Soap says around a mouthful of food, winking as Gaz pulls a face.
“Was well handled, nicely done, Soap." Price murmurs behind his mug.
"Proper good boy aren't you, Johnny?" comes the rumble at the end of the table.
His cheeks burn as Gaz and Price laugh. They don’t mean anything by it, they figure it's just being lads and taking the piss.
Soap risks a glance at Ghost and sees his eyes trained on him, a glint of something burning and dangerous peeking through the mask.
Christ he was so fucked.
-
It’s later on, past midnight, when he decides that something has to be done about it.
His can't focus when they’re on mission, either fuzzy with lust or trying to walk in a way that doesn't give away he’s hard enough to punch through wood.
He's not putting his squad at risk just because he's tenting his shorts like some hormonal teenager.
The sound of his knuckles rapping against the door feels louder in the late night air. There's no answer at first, and he wonders if he's made a mistake, should just go back to his bunk.
But then the door opens, Ghost blinking languidly at him.
“Took you long enough.” he rasps.
“Piss off, ye feckin reprobate.” Soap shoulders his way past the door into Ghost's room and throws himself into a chair and feeling a little pissy he’ll admit.
Across the room, Ghost leans against the door, arms crossed and looking at Soap expectantly.
This was going to be like pulling teeth, and he can tell the bastard is amused by it all; eyes seeming to brighten under the mask.
“So, what's your reason, then?” he finally gets out.
“For?” Ghost asks, tilting his head.
Of course, the cunt was gonna make him say it. Part of Soap wants to just give up, storm out. Just go to his room, wank himself unconscious to be done with it.
But Ghost was blocking the door. On purpose, Soap would bet.
“Why do ye keep callin' me a fuckin good boy, eh?” he presses
Ghost holds his gaze and blinks slowly, “Morale”
Fuck it, Soap is leaving, he’s not playing this fuckin game. Even if he has to wrestle the man out of the door. He shoves at the big bastard to move.
“Telling me you didn’t like it, Johnny?” Ghost asks, barely moving from the force of the push Soap gave him.
Soap growls, frustrated, “No’ about that, is it? You dinnae call Gaz or feckin Price that. Is only me you do that to.”
“S’right. Only you.” Ghost counters.
He looks up at Ghost to find that gaze burning into him. This feels dangerous.
“Feelin a bit singled out is all, LT.” he mumbles, hand coming up to awkwardly rub at his neck.
He feels like he's on the wrong foot now, not sure where's safe to step in this minefield of a conversation.
Ghost pushes off the door and moves toward him. It feels like being hunted, and Soap is very quickly learning that apparently he likes that.
He stumbles as the back of his knees hit the bunk and suddenly Ghost is looming above him.
His blood feels molten, too close to his skin and rushing through him. There’s a buzz in his ears and his throat clicks when he swallows.
This close, he can feel Ghost chuckle, feel the hot wet breath on his neck when he leans down.
"D'you want this?" he asks, voice low.
Soap's tongue seems to stick to his mouth, unable to form words.
The prospect of finally getting to have the thing he'd been obsessing over for weeks.
The thing he'd spent the dead of night fucking his fist too, face hot with the shame of it.
It left his head spinning.
Eventually he manages to choke out,
"Yes. Fuckin' yes, Ghost, pleas—"
He cuts off as Ghost grabs him by his hair, pulling just enough for his scalp to prickle as he growls in his ear.
"Good boy."
The whine that comes out of Soap should be embarrassing, but he's too gagging for it to care.
Ghost lets go of Soap's hair and stands back, just out of reach.
"Get your kit off then, or do I have to do all the work?"
“Shoulda known you’d be a nasty bastard.” Soap snarks as he pulls his shirt over his head.
“Reckon you like that, Johnny.” comes the smug reply.
Soap ignores him, fumbling for his belt, shoving his pants down to his knees.
His head falls back, groaning lowly as the pressure on his cock finally lets. He goes to take a moment to collect himself. But instead there's rough hands tugging them the rest of the way, boots yanked off and tossed into the corner of the room.
"Impatient aren't we LT?" he jokes weakly, heart hammering in his chest.
The words die out as the bed dips. Ghost straddles him, settling on his chest heavily.
Soap feels like nothing exists beyond him, the way Ghost fills his vision. Calm and collected as he casually unzips and takes himself in hand.
"Done this before, Johnny boy?" he asks lightly, as if he wants to know the weather and not whether Soap's sucked cock before.
"Dinnae flatter yersel' Ghost. No' my first." Soap eventually rasps out, eyeing the thick length in Ghost's hand. "I can take ye."
Ghost chuckles at that, "We'll see about that."
He taps the heavy head of his cock on Soap’s lips.
“Open up.” he orders.
God fuckin help him, Soap does, and tries to ignore the way his blood fucking sings at the single huff of approval out of the man over him
His head swims at the scent of hot skin and musk, mouth flooding with saliva at the taste of salty skin on his tongue as Ghost steadily feeds him his cock.
Part of him wants to drag his teeth against the tender flesh, just to be a brat, but there are strong hands in his hair and his eyes fall half closed.
Ghost hasn’t even taken his gloves off, still practically dressed.
At the realisation, Soap feels himself moan around the length in his mouth, Ghost's hands tightening in his hair.
“Knew you’d be good for me.” Ghost says, his voice is dark, and eyes bright in the dim light of the room
Soap can feel the sticky pool on his stomach from his cock, already angry red and steadily leaking.
“With me, Johnny.” Ghost demands.
Soap tears his eyes back to the man above him, the lighting making it seem like Ghost's eyes are molten gold.
He can tell under the mask he's smiling.
“There you are sweet'eart.”
He can’t stop the groan that comes out of him, stomach clenching at the petname.
Ghost adjusts his grip on Soap's hair, testing how much he can take before adjusting and rocking his hips forward.
“Just take it, there you go. There’s my good boy, eh?”
He relaxes his throat and breathes deep until his eyes start to water and his head swims with it. He’s already so close and he hasn’t even been touched yet, cock twitching each time Ghost bottoms out.
There's a moment, which his nose buried in the coarse hair at the root of Ghost's cock that he looks up and locks eyes with him. It's like staring at glowing coals, flickering embers held in the dark with a smouldering heat that scalds his blood.
Soap's feels his cock twitch in warning, he's so fucking close, he feels his eyes start to roll back.
But then Ghost smoothly pulls out of his mouth, leaving Soap gasping and blinking away the tears. Lightheaded and dizzy from the sudden rush of oxygen into his lungs.
“Not bad. Reckon there's room for improvement.” Ghost says, chuckling at the frustrated sob Soap lets out against his thigh. There's the soft touch of a hand through his hair, before Ghost moves away, sitting at the side of the bed. Soap throws an arm over his eyes, chest heaving with each breath.
There's the feeling of a gloved hand trailing over his stomach, making him jump.
“Nearly made a mess of yourself, though.” he hears Ghost tease.
“Fuck off” Soap's voice cracks, Christ he sounds wrecked
He looks at Ghost from under his arm, seeing his eyes trace the same path as his fingers had.
“Ye could get more comfortable, ye know?” he grumbles, causing Ghost to look over at him. As much as it had been exciting, he's starting to feel awkward completely starkers while Ghost could zip up and be ready for the tarmac.
“I look uncomfortable to you?”
The bastard is grinning, Soap can tell.
“Ye look like yer dressed for a fuckin funeral.” Soap quips, looking at the ceiling, heart still beating too fast.
“Can’t have you dying before I’ve had my fun.” Ghost teases as he gest to his feet and strips off. The pale flesh and scars are devoured by Soap’s hungry gaze as his eyes are drawn back, like a moth to a flame.
As he drops the last piece of clothing to the floor, he looks over to Soap on the bed.
“Mask stays on.” he says, the rest of him bare.
“I dinnae care.” Soap lies.
Both of their eyes tracking how his cock jumped at the idea.
Ghost laughs, not unkindly, “Slag.”
The bed shifts under him as Ghost settles at the end of it. Soap sits up on his elbows, suddenly nervous.
He's no stranger to casual dalliance, to a quick and dirty release stolen in a pub bathroom or if he's lucky someone's flat if they're generous.
But it's Ghost.
It matters. It's not something he leaves in the early hours, hidden in cigarette smoke and strangers mouths. What if it ruins everything?
"Johnny?" Ghost is looking at him, a hand circled around Soap's ankle.
"M'fine," he says without thinking, scrambling for an excuse for his sudden silence, "was jus' wondering how ye want me?"
He goes to roll over, but there's a sudden fierce grip on his hips as Ghost tugs him down the bed, keeping him on his back.
"Wanna see you." is all Ghost says.
Soap feels like his heart is lodged in his throat, as Ghost rummages around in the bedside table.
"You've done this part before, haven't you?" it's a genuine question. But there's that teasing tone to it that has Soap rolling his eyes, falling back into the rhythm of their banter.
"Oh aye, I'm a fuckin blushin virgin." he jokes, kicking out and catching Ghost in the side. "Chaste as a priest, I am."
Ghost glances up at him, the heat still in his eyes.
“Better start praying then Johnny. Won’t be after I’m done with you.“
Soap feels his breath catch at the threat. “That a promise, LT?”
Ghost doesn’t respond, instead just clicks the bottle of lube open, pouring some onto his fingers and pressing two into Soap. There's an intensity to his focus as he presses deeper until they brush against the spot that punches a groan out of Soap.
"There we are."
"Hurry it up will ye?" Soap growls. He'd been trying to ignore the dull ache of being stretched open. But now there was a steady building at the base of his spine, his breath coming in shallow, cock filling out again after flagging.
"Patience is a virtue, Johnny." Ghost murmurs.
Soap winces at the feeling of Ghost removing his fingers, looking down as there’s a pause.
“Ye alright?”
He can't help but ask.
He gets a nod in response.
“Well, come on then. Show me how nasty ye are.” he wiggles his eyebrows and revels in the small huff of a laugh from Ghost as he lines himself up.
“Might regret that, Johnny.” Ghost says, locking eyes with him.
“Regret you takin yer fuckin tim-” he cuts off in a groan as Ghost smoothly presses the head of his cock in, his other hand tightly gripping Soap's waist.
“Fuckin hell, coulda warned me.” he says to Ghost's shoulder.
Ghost hums. "Could’ve.”
“Prick.” Soap lets his head fall back. He relaxes into the feeling, letting his body adjust. Ghost waits until Soap gives him a nod before slowly sheathing himself to the root.
That lightheaded feeling is back as Soap rests his head against Ghost's sternum. That languid bloodwarm feeling of being full trickling up his spine.
“You solid?” he hears from above him.
Soap shifts a bit, feeling the ache of how stretched he was. “Aye.”
“Good.” is all the warning he gets before the first thrust knocks the breath out of Soap’s lungs. His hands come up to grasp at Ghost's biceps, groaning at the drag of skin on skin, wet heat and rushing blood.
It's not gentle, he’s sure he’ll have bruises on his hips to hide for weeks from the whiteknuckle grip Ghost has. But he could tell the bastard was holding back.
“I’m no’ made of glass, Ghost, I can take it.” he bites out.
Ghost laughs in his ear. “Careful Johnny, or I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”
The response is automatic.
“Ye already have.”
Ghost stills and Soap feels immediate panic he’d overstepped.
They hadn’t spoken about what this was.
Whether it was just a bit fun to left off steam or something more that they'd been dancing around for years.
Before he can scramble to come up with an apology, a joke to lessen the seriousness of what he’s just let fall out of his mouth, Ghost gives a snarl.
He snaps his hips forwards and Soap can swear he feels it in his throat.
The grip on his hips tightens so hard it nearly hurts as Ghost drives into him. It feels primal and possessive, heady and addicting as he rakes his nails down pale flesh, urging for more.
Ghost grabs the back of his neck, pulls him forward so he can growl in his ear.
“Made for this aren’t you, made for me.”
It isn’t a question, though Soap thinks he’s nodding. He feels dizzy with it, how much he wants this, how much Ghost wants him.
“Gonna be a good boy for me, Johnny?”
Ghost voice sounds raw, eyes burning as the meet Soap's.
“Fuck.” Soap sobs, it sounds more like a plea than an answer.
“There you are, sweet'eart, show me how well you take me.”
Soap falls back on the bed, Ghost's hand drifting from the back of his neck down to his thighs. He can feel the rough calluses on his skin, feel his teeth nearly rattle as Ghost slams into him.
It’s too much, just on this side of painful and he never wants it to end.
There's a dizzying feeling every time he feels Ghosts cock drag against him in just the right way. There's bruises blooming on his hips under the near deathgrip Ghost has on him.
“Thought about this a lot. How good you'd be for me.”
Soap doesn't have it in him to respond, he feels like he’s sinking deeper into a calm. His body goes lax and boneless, mind buzzing at the pleased growl from Ghost when his body just submits.
“Love seeing you like this Johnny, fucked brainless and still fuckin desperate for me.”
That pulls a whine out him, clenching down around the cock still driving deeper into him. He thought Ghost would be quiet, but each word of praise fills him like warm honey, mind swimming.
“Show me you can come like this, sweet'eart.”
Soap can already feel himself hurtling towards the edge, wrapping an arm around the back of Ghost's neck and pulling him close.
"Fuck, Ghost, please." he pleads.
He hears Ghost's voice in his ear, raw and rough, “That's it love, be pretty for me.”
That does it.
Soap's entire body seems to lock up for a moment, pleasure sparking through him and settling into the base of his skull with a blistering heat. His cock pulses, untouched and painting his stomach.
“There’s a good boy.” he hears Ghost murmur. He bites down on the meat of Ghost's shoulder to muffle the whine that threatens to make its way out, hearing those words.
As he comes down, dizzy still, his head lolls forward, like his strings have been cut. He dimly registers the twitch of Ghost’s cock inside him, and softly groans at the feeling of it slipping out of him spent.
Soap slumps on the bed without Ghost’s grip holding him, body heavy and lax after the orgasm that was wrung out of him. He should get up, he knows the routine. He should leave so he isn't intruding.
Instead, his eyelids grow heavy and he drifts into darkness.
When he comes back to himself, he's been cleaned up, blanket pulled over him to keep out the chill. There’s a solid weight beside him.
“Back with me?” Ghost asks.
“Solid.” his words sound slurred, but the laugh from Ghost isn’t cruel. Soap pushes himself up so he's sitting, before Ghost speaks again.
"Didn't hurt you, did I?" There is a weight to his words, even though he's clearly trying to keep the tone light.
"Reckon me hips'll have a few bruises. I dinnae mind that though." he glances down at the purple on his side. It's not quite a handprint but enough of a suggestion of one. Showers were going to be fun.
He jumps as Ghost trails a finger over one, gentle and completely at odds with what had caused them.
"I'll keep that in mind." Ghost says. There's something about his voice that's off, doesn't feel like it's hitting Soap's ears like it normally does. He looks over to ask him if he's alright. It takes Soap a moment to realise what’s different.
“Ye weren’t lyin. Yer a bonnie bastard beneath the mask.”
He gets a smirk in response, and his heart fuckin clenches with it. He still hadn’t asked what this meant, for them. He suddenly feels vulnerable, naked and tucked into the covers of Ghost’s bunk.
"Eh, sorry for passing out on ye at the end there," Soap mumbles, his ears burning.
Ghost shrugs, "S'fine. Don't mind."
Thre's a quiet, but the buzzing unease under Soap's skin doesn't settle. Just like before, he doesn't know where to put his feet, worried he'll detonate whatever this is between them.
"Do ye want me to leave?" he asks like an idiot.
“Got somewhere to be?” Ghost raises an eyebrow.
"You reckon there's somewhere I should be?" he counters with another question. It's the same dance they've done for years, always toeing the line but neither crossing. Strange to have the feeling after they've fucked like they'd die without it.
Ghost sighs after a moment, and Soap readies himself for the pushback. The return to status quo.
Instead, Ghost grabs him by his chin, holding his gaze steady.
"If I wanted a quick fuck I've got more than enough offers, Johnny. Wouldn't have risked this."
He rests his forehead against Soap's.
Their breaths merge in the space between them,
"Fucking said before, didn't I? Only you." he says softer this time, thumb absently running along Soap's jawline.
It feels like the minefields behind them. Throwing caution to the wind, Soap moves forward and kisses him.
Something in him settles when Ghost's hand shifts from his chin to cup his face, a warm feeling in his chest that burns brighter than pride as he drags his teeth and gets a nip back in retaliation.
It feels just like the normal back and forth in a strange way that makes him laugh, Ghost grumbling a bit.
"Was enjoying that." he murmurs into the crook of Soap's neck.
"Was enjoying not doing missions half mast, but ye ruined that ye fuckin bastard," Soap counters, frowning as he feels Ghost smile against his skin. He shoves him.
"Ye can't be calling me fuckin good boy in front of the others." he says seriously. As much as his blood sings with how good this all feels, he doesn't want it to effect the team, or his ability to do his job.
"I won't." Ghost says, and actually sounds like he means it.
He pulls Soap close to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing his face into his neck. Sleep doesn't make them wait long.
#ghostsoap#hexx fics#smut is scary af to write#and i can't write anything below 4K anymore apparently#uhh also this is the first and only smut i've written so theres room for improvement#i was reading one of jack's nikprice ones earlier and i am in fucking awe of how people write good smut#hexx threads
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Tied Bonds
✩ Poly141 x f!reader (Yandere Universe)
Being a cafe worker was easy. You start to become friendly with the bar owners across the street, but they've become a little too obsessive. Would your friendliness become your worst mistake or your best decision yet?
ᥫ᭡ Main Masterlist
✮ Part 1 - A Cup of Ale and a Raspberry Scone
TW: Hint of stalking. If that triggers you. PLEASE LEAVE
MDNI
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The smell of coffee and caramel. The small chatter of people with chairs scraping the ground. The sound of buttons being pushed and machines running. That's all you hear as you enter the cafe, from the back. Wrapping your apron around you and tying it you walk behind the counter, getting ready to start helping the customers.
You love your job. From making the drinks to talking to new people. You have favorite customers from either great tips or them helping with bad days. So, pleasing your customers has always been your top priority when coming to work. You just want to make them happy, always have been a people-pleaser.
You began working with your other co-workers. Putting a smile on as you talked with them or asking a customers order. You moved quick on your feet, always have. You knew the orders by heart, working here for 6 years. You made the drinks with ease and gave them to the customer with a 'goodbye' and 'have a good day!'
You remember the first time you started working here. Being a nineteen-year old, you knew about nothing to making coffee. You we're a scared, tiny girl. Anything and everything made you jump. Now being almost 27, you knew your way around this place like the back of your hand. You could move around here blindfolded with one arm. Maybe a bit extreme? But true! As time grew on, you began helping the newbies, you loved helping them, it made your day.
As you kept moving, your lunch break came around, you walked to your car to retrieve your lunchbox. However, there was a note on your car with flowers on the window:
"You may not know us or see us, but we see you. Hope these flowers bring you warmth like your smile brings us."
So sweet! Right? That isn't weird at all!! Just, someone being friendly and giving.
That's what you told yourself as you smelled the flowers and retrieved your lunchbox and went inside to the back to eat. Was he weird someone gave you flowers? Maybe a little..But, it was sweet! Plus, it was your favorite flowers! How could you be mad when someone went through all that trouble to get you it! Plus, it might just be a customer returning a sweet gesture.
Lunch wrapped up and you began working again in sync with your other co-workers. It was around around lunch so it was getting pretty busy. But that was great, busy times meant a great pay check! And money kept food in your belly and a roof over your head (which you still need to pay the rent..).
The bell continued to ring and someone walked up to your counter:
"Evenin' bonnie!"
You knew that voice! It was that flirty but sweet Scottish lad from across the street. He runs it with those other three men. He's been coming here for every lunch about a year ago. You always enjoy when he's here. He's quite the flirt but his conversations always brighten even your worse days.
"Hi Johnny! The regular today or something new?"
The short chuckle and he's pulling out his wallet.
"The usual. You always make it the best. Become my favorite thing."
You smile and take his money and putting it into the register before starting to make his drink. A Flat White with a Turkey, Provolone & Pesto on Ciabatta. He never once failed to order it. "How's the day goin' bonnie? No lads or ladies bothern' you, nah?" He tapped against the counter
"Course' not. I have your strong arms to protect me. Why would they mess with me when they know you're just across?" You teased, you loved the back and forth game you two had, made life a bit less bland.
"Oh for sure. Are the bows new lass?"
You look down. Oh right. You added bows to your apron. Cute pink bows to make it less bland.
"Mhm! Thought it made it cute and stuck out!"
He mused, eyes trailing you up and down. You missed it of course, too busy making his drink.
"It fit's ya lass."
You finished his drink and and walked over, sliding his sandwich and drink over, fingers brushing together as you handed it off.
"That so?"
He nods and winks at ya before walking off, leaving you smiling like a dork.
As the day goes on, customers coming and going, smiling and laughter filling the cafe before eventually everyone is gone and home for the night.
Later that evening, you're wiping the tables down and as you're wiping one of them, you catch a note on one of the tables. Being a curious sue, you open it:
"Thought you'd fine it. Been chatty for a while with you now but I'd like to talk to ya more than just one day occurrence bonnie. Here's my number. ***-***-****. Call me lass or I'll come lookin' for ya. ;)" -Johnny
From outside, staring from his car, he sees you stifle a giggle. And he grips his steering wheel tighter. How long are ya gonna make the lad wait lass? Maybe he needs to talk to his cap and lieutenant..they've already seen how truly bonnie you are. Sharing would only be caring..and he cares for his mates'.
Author note here: I really hope people like this. Trying out fic and if this turns out shite I'mma go overboard. Would love recommendations and comments!! <3
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Im currently watching brave and it’s given me brain worms hehe
It’s to do with the will o’ the wisp!
Either soaps been seeing them his whole life guiding him to the task force or after a rough mission, totally lost/injured and with no way to contact anyone they guide his way back to ghost :D
Thanks for everything you write it genuinely makes my day to read all your works!!
ooh i really like this. also- apparently will o' the wisps are actually Not good in folklore so i wrote a little twist to fix that ;)
-
Throughout his life, Soap's nan had always liked to tell him stories about the many malevolent creatures he should hope to never have the misfortune of encountering—kelpies, redcaps, sluaghs; just about everything that existed in his homeland's folklore.
A little cruel in retrospect, Soap thinks, but for a while he'd just understood it as his nan's way of ensuring her grandson was to behave. They were myths, old tales and explanations for the unexplainable, and he can appreciate the determination to share tradition.
But now, as Soap is stranded in thick woods after an operation gone awry, blood sticky on his temple and a bullet stuck in his leg, he's not so sure they were just stories. Not as he's currently staring down an unnatural wisp of light in the darkness, hovering just a few feet away from where he'd collapsed against the thick, gnarled trunk of a tree.
Will o' the wisp, his mind supplies. Omens of death, his nan had told him, like many other creatures and spirits. They appear to the weary and lost like himself, flickers of glowing blue light almost hopeful as they guide one along a seemingly nonsensical path—but instead of leading someone to safety, they lure people to their doom.
The wisp just floats, unmoving, as Soap sits frozen. He tries his radio to no avail, and realizes with a great dread that he only has two options: attempt to find his own way back to his team, to anyone, anywhere, with the great risk of only getting more lost—or follow the wisp in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, it may actually lead him somewhere useful, no matter how bad the destination. Soap could only hope that doom is something he can fend off with a gun.
His decision is made rather easily because... he supposes it doesn't really make a difference, does it?
So he pushes himself away from the tree and toward the light—it vanishes as soon as he steps toward it, but with another step forward, another wisp appears.
Soap limps along, following the wisps. They weave him through trees and take sharp, sudden turns, disappearing and reappearing endlessly as Soap pursues the trail they leave. His head is on a swivel with every sound that isn't the crunch of branches beneath his own boots, with every flash of movement in his periphery.
He feels like he’d been walking forever by the time the forest has grown less dense and the wisps fade away for good—and that's when Soap sees it.
The large, imposing silhouette. The hulking figure cloaked in black. The glimpse of a skull in the sliver of moonlight that had managed to break through the forest's canopy.
Soap swallows a laugh. The will o' the wisps must have led him to Ghost, not realizing doom would have only been certain for Soap had he been the enemy.
Funny.
Ghost spots him and raises his gun, pauses, then after a moment lowers the barrel.
"Johnny?" Ghost grunts. "Where the fuck've you been?"
Soap shrugs a shoulder, wincing as he steps closer. "Lost my way running from the facility. Comms were dead." He flashes a crooked grin. "Worked out though, aye?"
Ghost snorts. "Aye," he echoes. "C'mon, then. Exfil's waiting. Save your explanations 'til then."
Soap gladly follows, relief nearly exalting.
But as they walk shoulder-to-shoulder, Soap can’t help but cast one last glance back at the trees from where he had emerged.
He wonders if the wisps had really made a mistake. He wonders if maybe they hadn't been done leading him, but Ghost had gotten in the way.
Questions he'll likely never find the answers for.
But regardless, now in safe hands—Soap thinks he had better refresh himself on his nan's stories as soon as he gets the chance.
He doesn't know now, whenever they might come in handy.
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mary on a cross - hero of the day
-simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader
-warnings: violence, death, smut (mdni), unprotected p-in-v, oral (fem rec), creampie, simon has a dirty mouth, mentions of alcohol, mentions of domestic violence (nothing graphic)
-word count: 6k
-summary: as you and simons relationship grows, outside forces conspire to reveal his secret, leading to him having to protect you by any means necessary. mercenary au
prev chapter fic masterlist next chapter
a/n: ok so I finally got around to playing mw 2019 and I fear a Price phase is coming on so... we'll see what happens. Not proofread, sorry for any grammatical errors
The mornings you and Simon woke up to were very different, yours was filled with a warm breeze from the window and a sense of comfort, not only from your bed but from your current life. You were happy, finally, it took years for you to gain the strength to leave but now that you’ve created the life you wanted, you felt content, secure. Simon’s morning was filled with dread, he barely slept that night, deciding to rather spend his time pacing his bedroom after he hung up the phone with Johnny, the two of them had worked together a few years prior, before Simon’s retirement and they had grown rather close, even using the term friends sometimes (though Johnny used it far more liberally than Simon). But it had been years since the two talked, not for any specific reason, just that Johnny had remained in the force and Simon grew used to living a life of solitude, not bothering to call Johnny over the years. He didn’t have Johnny’s number saved in his phone, but he wouldn’t mistake that voice anywhere, that obnoxious Scottish accent that he swears pierces his skull. It was a shock for Simon, being so cautious with his past time having everyone including the local police confused, but Johnny knew him, they had been through war together, he knew all of his moves, his favourite weapons, the only thing he didn’t know was the why.
“What are you doing going about killing civvies?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about MacTavish” Simon responds, trying to keep his breathing regular as to know alert Johnny
“Bullshit LT, it’s you, I've seen you kill enough men to know what it looks like” He takes a beat, “I’m not gonna turn you in”
Simon almost sighs in relief.
“I just want to know why, you left the force years ago, I’d thought your violent years were behind you, hell if you wanted to kill you should’ve stayed”
“They’re bad people Johnny”
“They always are”
“They’re not innocent, I just wanted people- innocent people to be safe”
“Alright”
The two men sit on the phone in silence for a few minutes, neither one daring to speak.
“I’ll see you in the morning LT,” Johnny says before hanging up.
Simon sat in his bed, his heartbeat in his ears, fuck he’ll ask more questions, he gets up and begins pacing slowly back and forth, you’ll ask questions. He never wanted to tell you about his past, he didn’t want to scare you, he knew you’d look at him differently if you knew what his military file had in it, he knew you’d run far away if you knew what his current past-time was, he couldn’t have Johnny talking to you it would ruin everything, he needed a way to get rid of Johnny without him giving away his secret, and without raising your suspicions.
Rather than sit anxiously in bed all morning Simon had gone to the gym beside the pub, it wasn't a large commercial gym by any means, but it had punching bags, and that was more than he could ask for, reposting to work out some of his stress on the large bags he threw punch after punch till his already sore knuckles were swollen and red. Deciding that he had inflicted enough pain on himself for the day he grabbed his bag and made his way back to the pub, going to turn the key in the lock before realizing it was already open. Immediately Simon went into fight mode, prepared to attack whoever decided to trespass onto the property, his trance only broken by the sound of laughter, your laughter, his shoulders untensed as he pushed the door open to find you, head thrown back in laughter, smile wide and bright, and him, next to you.
You turn your attention from Johnny towards the door, eyes locking on the large looming figure advancing towards you.
“Good morning,” you say, smiling as wide as ever. Simon's gaze shifts between you and Johnny.
“Mornin”
“Sleep well?” Johnny asks, a smirk on his face as he sips his coffee, Simon ignores his questions.
“Johnny said he knew you from the force, figured I’d let him in before we open so he could say hi”
Simon spares a tight-lipped smile in your direction, “Yea we um, worked together for a bit”
Johnny fakes insult, “Just wanted to check in LT, finally got leave so I’m back for a bit”
Simon gives a curt nod as he busies himself cleaning glasses, you sense the tension in the air.
“I’m gonna go get some coffee, did either of you want anything”
“No” “I’ll take a tea lass” both of the men respond, you smile and make your way out the door.
“You shouldn’t be here Johnny”
“She’s sweet”
Simon turns his gaze to stare daggers at Johnny as a smirk creeps up on his face
“You like her” Johny asks, though it’s not a question
“She’s not a part of this”
“So she doesn’t know?”
“No one does”
Johnny nods his head looking around the room before continuing.
“Are you going it for money?”
“No”
“Then what?”
Simon sighs, “When I got back, I spent a week just sitting in my flat, watching the news, trying to catch up on whatever I’d missed. The people, the children that were being harmed, I couldn’t just watch it happen.”
“So it’s about your family”
Before Simon can respond you walk back in, tray of drinks in your hand.
“I know you said you didn’t want anything but I figured I’d get you some anyway”
Johnny watches as Simon's body untenses at the mere sight of you, glancing at his eyes that are practically heart-shaped. You place the drinks atop the bar and both men reach to grab theirs, Simon mumbling a soft thank you in your direction.
“Oi doll, could you grab some extra glasses from the back,” Simon asks, you nod at him and turn to walk towards the backroom.
“Let me help you,” Johnny says, Simon furrows his brows.
“I don’t need your help, Johnny”
“Right, what happens if you get caught?”
“I won’t”
“You don’t even exist technically, you get caught an the whole team gets investigated”
“I won’t get caught” Simon stands stern as Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. “You should go”
“Right” Johnny gives him a sad look, “I’m off lass!” he shouts to you. You poke your head around the corner.
“Already? Well alright, don’t be a stranger” you say with a smile as Johnny gives you a wave turning away to exit.
“I’ll be in town,” he says to Simon, it’s more of a warning.
Simon feels his mind flush with a million thoughts at once as soon as Johnny leaves.
“So, the weirdest thing happened last night,” you say, moving back into your seat at the bar, Simon gives a hmm in acknowledgement, keeping his attention on cleaning the bar.
“News said they found two bodies on a street close to here, just freaked me out cause I take that street home”
“Strange”
“Right, and remember how I was telling you about those guys following me” You wait for his nod, “It was the same street, can’t be a coincidence”
Simon feels his pulse start to race, there’s no way she thinks it’s me. You shake your head
“I don’t know, just weird. Guess I have to find a new route home”
“I can take you home,” Simon says a little too quickly
“No I don’t want to be a burden, I don’t live far anyway���
“You could never be a burden”
You feel your cheeks flush a little, looking toward your feet.
“Alright”
The two of you enter a comfortable silence, going about your tasks individually, but always within reach of each other. The day was slow, with a handful of people coming in once and a while to get a few drinks, by midnight it was dead quiet, you and Simon occupying yourselves with quiet conversation that was mostly one-sided.
“Top five books,” you say
“What?” Simon responds with a raised brow
“What are your top five books, I’ve noticed you reading in the mornings”
He gives a small nod, “Not sure, maybe dorian gray, hell’s angels, jekyll and hyde, moby dick, and jane eyre.
“You’ve read jane eyre”
“A few times yeah”
“Cute, no books about war?”
“Feels strange to read about it when you’ve lived through them”
“Them? Like multiple”
“What are yours” He changes the topic quickly
“Doesn’t matter” you say and he smirks.
He looks outside to the dark street, “We should probably get you home”
You nod and gather your bag, Simon walks beside you, locking the pub before the two of you make your way to the street, he places a soft hand on your waist to guide you in a different direction, and you feel heat flush your body from the contact. The two of you turn a corner and walk to a small alley beside the pub where a motorcycle is sitting.
“You ride a motorcycle,” you ask almost amused. He huffs a laugh at the question urging you closer as he turns the key in the ignition, you hear the bike roar to life as Simon turns to place a helmet on your head, securing it before sitting on the bike, he waits for you to get on the back. You nervously place your hands on his shoulders, unaware of how to sit, he reaches back for your arms, pulling them tight over his stomach and forcing your chest to press against his back. You try to stop yourself from feeling over the strong muscles of his stomach, he turns the bike to make his way down the alley onto the street, speeding up as he enters onto the road. You cling to him and he can’t fight the smile that creeps up on his lips, he revels in your touch no matter the circumstances, he liked that you were holding on to him so tightly seeking safety. The ride to your flat was short but exciting, Simon driving more cautiously than he normally would. He parks the bike outside your building as you remove the helmet passing it to him, you smooth your hair from your face before thanking him and making your way to your door.
You close the door behind you and fall against the wall trying to come to terms with what you were feeling, you didn’t want to take your hands off him, you wanted to press further into his flesh and let your hands roam all over him. You think about exploring his body, feeling his muscles under your palms, his fingers digging into your hips and heat pools in your lower stomach, you bite your lip and in a surge of confidence you open your door again to see him leaning against the bike, smoking a cigarette. You lock eyes and he quirks his head.
“Did you want to come in?” you ask sheepishly and without a second thought he throws his cigarette to the pavement and closes the space between you. It happened so quickly, the door was pushed open and he grabbed your face with both hands, not wasting a minute in attaching his lips to yours, his kisses are feverish, and tongue and teeth and he closes the door with a kick of his leg and moves you back against the wall, he leaves your lips to plant wet kisses down your neck and collarbone as your hands roam over his shoulders, chest, back, any part of him you could reach. You feel his weight press against you as he lifts you up against the wall, lips returning to yours as his tongue begs entry and you oblige. The two of you are a mess of gasps and moans, trying to catch any breath between the kisses, he begins walking you down the small hallway as you direct him to the bedroom in between kisses.
He drops you onto the mattress, lips never leaving yours as you arch your back to lift your shirt and he does the same giving your hands full access to paw at his skin, you feel your fingers over his littered scars you’ll ask later. He reaches down the hem of your pants, looking to you for permission, you nod and attach your lips to his neck as he undresses you, your arms reaching behind your back to remove your bra. You’re left in just your panties, laying on the bed, lips swollen and eyes blown wide in lust while Simon takes a step back to admire you muttering curses under his breath that bring a rosy tint to your cheeks. He kneels down and places a trail of kisses across your bare stomach as your fingers find their way to his scalp, raking through his hair, his fingers come to curl around your underwear before peeling them down your legs as he looks over your dripping pussy.
“Christ, so wet already”
You blush and he smirks before diving in, licking thick stripes up your slit, lapping up every drip he can, teasing it with his fingers before pushing them into you, he’d take his time later, he wanted you, needed to feel you come apart on him. Your head is thrown back, slurs of moans leaving your lips as your fingers grip his hair in an attempt to ground yourself. The combination of his fingers and expert tongue bring you to your peak quickly, your chest tightening as your high builds.
“That’s right pretty girl, cum for me, cum on my fingers”
You let out a loud gasp of his name as you reach your climax, he licks you through it, replacing his fingers with his tongue in order to swallow every last bit of your high. He places a few more kitten licks to your swollen pussy before moving up to entrap you between his arms, reaching down to kiss you.
“Taste so sweet,” he says reaching down to unbutton his pants before taking them off. You glance at his throbbing cock through his boxers, it’s big, bigger than you’ve taken before. He reads your eyes,
“S’alright doll, I’ll be gentle”
“No,” you say but it comes out as a whimper, “want you to fuck me, hard”
A smirk creeps onto his face as he grips your waist, flipping you onto all fours, you’ve barely caught your breath, limbs weak as you try to hold yourself up. He grabs a handful of your ass, placing kisses down your spine before bending to bit lightly at the meat of your ass, you let out a small yelp and he kisses over the skin, teasing the head of his cock through your puffy lips. He plants a firm grip at your hip before pushing into you, letting out a moan. You let out a curt fuck as he pushes in, leaning down to encase you, planting a palm next to your shoulder before he begins slowly pumping into you inch by inch.
“Doing so well love, just a little more”
You can’t help the breathless moans that escape your lips. He bottoms out with a large breath that you feel fanning over your cheek, your arms give out as your face falls in contact with the bed. He pulls himself back up to trace his palm between your shoulder blades as he continues pumping into you. As your pussy adjusts to the size of him you begin moving your body back against him in time with his thrusts, feeling the tip of his cock prodding at your cervix. He brings both hands to knead at the flesh of your ass, spreading the cheeks apart to get a clear view of him fucking you.
“Fucking hell, feel so good love”
He picks up his pace and you hear your headboard colliding with the wall behind it, drool pooling on the sheets under your mouth as you cry out his name.
“That’s right baby, say my name”
“Si- Simon fuck”
He reaches a hand around to toy with your clit and you feel your muscles constrict around his length.
“Fuck squeezin' me so tight”
He reaches a hand around your throat and pulls you upright, your back arched and flush with his chest as he holds you against him, your hands coming to grab at his thick forearm in an attempt to keep yourself upright. You can’t think, your mind clouded with only him, his scent is intoxicating, all you can feel is him. He brings you to your peak, sucking at your neck hard enough that it was sure to leave a mark as you moan into his ear.
“Yes fuck, right there, please Simon”
“Yea, that feel good love”
You nod.
“Words baby”
“Yes God please”
He continues thrusting into you, fingers circling your clit faster as that familiar coil burns in your lower abdomen.
“Shit I’m gonna cum”
“Yea? Fuck cum on me, wanna feel you squeeze my cock”
And you do, you come undone in his arms, your pussy soaking his cock and he fucks you through your second high, never slowing his pace. When you finally come down you’ve lost all control of your body, your thoughts are fuzzy as he flips you onto your back and pushes back into you, bringing your knees to your chest and holding them there. You can’t form words, body overstimulated from your orgasms.
“Not gonna last, where do you want me”
“Inside please, need to feel you,” you say but it comes out as a whisper.
He can’t deny you, not when he has you under him, completely lost in him, begging for his cum, his muscles tense as he slows his thrusts, spilling his hot seed deep into you with a deep grunt. He releases your legs but keeps himself inside, leaning down to kiss your glistening neck, he stays there for a while, both of you catching your breath, basking in the warmth of him.
He removes his softening cock from you and watches as the mixture of both your orgasms spills out before leaving to grab you a warm towel. He runs it over your body, careful to not hit your overstimulated clit before tossing it to the laundry bin and settling down next to you, you reach for him nuzzling into his broad chest as his arm moves to hold you close to him, lips pressed to the crown of your head.
“Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that” he says and you giggle into his chest, hands roaming to feel over his scars.
“They’re old, wounds from when I served,” he says as you glance up at him, “knew you were gonna ask at some point”
You smile, reaching up to kiss him, head falling back against the pillow as he brings his hands the push your hair out of your face, you stare into his eyes, his face gives nothing away but his eyes, they’re full of emotion, he looks at you like you hold the world. You feel yourself growing tired as you cuddle back into him,
“Stay here,” you say
“Okay”, you feel the deep rumble of his voice through his chest as you close your eyes letting the warmth of him comfort you into sleep.
The two of you are woken to the loud noise of banging at your door, you open your eyes slowly, your limbs are tangled between Simon’s as his arms hold you close, cursing to yourself that you’d have to leave him. You move from his chest and throw on some pants and his shirt, making your way to the door, opening it your heart falls to the floor.
“Alex” your chest feels empty, why was he here, how did he find you?
“Hey babe”
You shake your head trying to close the door but he places his foot in the way.
“Can we just talk”
“No - I left for a reason” You glance back at Simon in your bed, still asleep. “You need to leave”
He follows your eyes, “Is someone here” The tone in his voice grows angrier as he pushes the door to let himself in, you stumble back.
“Alex please, go home I don’t want you here” you beg as tears prick your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him and here he was in your apartment.
“Who the fuck is that” he yells turning back to you, invading your space and forcing your body to move back against the wall as your arms come up to plead defence.
“You leave me and move here to fuck some other guy, you fucking slut”
“Alex please”
His hand makes firm contact with the wall beside your head, making you flinch as your tears start to flow down your cheeks.
“What is wrong with you, I gave you everything”
Before you can object a deep voice calls from the other side of the room.
“I’d back off if I were you”
You look up, eyes locking on Simon’s and you can see the anger that's burning it’s way to the surface
“Seriously, hey just fuck off man this doesn’t concern you,” your ex says, turning his attention towards the large man.
“It concerns me plenty,” Simon says crossing the room to tower over Alex
“Simon please” you beg, he can see in your eyes that you don’t want him to hurt Alex, but every fibre of his being wants to kill him, slit his throat and throw his body into some alley for the rats to feed on. Alex puffs his chest and pushes at Simon with his hands, he doesn’t move an inch, tilting his head down to glare at your ex's face.
“You need to leave”
“You fucking leave, she’s my girlfriend”
Simon feels his anger come to a tipping point as he grabs Alex’s neck and shoves him against a wall, your quiet pleas lost in his fit of rage. Alex brushes him off, sparing you a final glance.
“This isn’t over, I’ll be back,” he says before leaving, slamming the door behind him hard enough that you jump. You sink backwards against the wall.
“Are you alright?” Simon asks scanning your body for any evidence that you were hurt.
You shake your head, “You shouldn’t have done that”
“He was hurting you-”
“No Simon, you don’t understand, he’s not going to stop, he followed me here” Your cheeks are stained with tears, your breath heavy.
“Then I’ll deal with him,” he says slowly bringing his hands to hold your face as you stare up at him. God help any man who tried to hurt you in his presence, “I promise, he’s never going to touch you again”
You sniffle, trying to catch your breath as he wraps his arms to hold you, this was just another person he’d have to take care of, he’d kill everyone if it meant keeping you safe. The two of you stand in the living room, not a word shared between you as he just continues to hold you, shushing your quiet sobs, placing tender kisses on the crown of your head. You felt safe in his arms, your anxiety settling as his palms caress over your spine.
“I’ll kill ‘em if I have to”
You release a giggle, as Simon smiles but he’s being serious. After a few minutes, the two of you continue your morning, Simon making tea as he doesn’t trust you to do it properly while you stand in the shower, letting the warm water ease your tense muscles.
You jump as the curtain pulls back, Simon’s head popping in, eyes lingering on your naked form.
“Take a picture why don’t you”
“Don’t tempt me”
You laugh at his remark.
“I’ve gotta head over to the pub” his eyes full of lust, every bit of him trying hard to not jump in the shower with you, “I’ll see you over there in a bit yea?”
You nod leaning over to kiss him, biting lightly at his lower lip.
“Minx,” he says and splashes some of the water at you.
Simon leaves and you continue with your morning, drying off from the shower and getting dressed for work. You weren’t sure how the new dynamic would work, you had always found Simon attractive but this was new, you’d never slept with someone you had to see every day. You didn’t know if this was a one-time thing, you hoped it wasn’t but Simon wasn’t the best about vocalizing his emotions, you didn’t want to just come out and ask, so you’d have to wait, test the waters, see how he felt about you.
By noon you had made your way to the pub, the cool air inside a welcome sensation after your walk in the warm air outside, you settle your things, peeking around the corner to try and find him.
“Simon?”
No response, maybe he was upstairs, you’d never been to his flat and it felt strange to just invite yourself in so you stayed in the pub, finding tasks to complete while you waited for him. A few minutes pass and you hear a loud crash from upstairs.
“Si?” you yell, hoping it’s him upstairs and not some robber, silence fills the next minute before you see him emerge from the back door looking a little dishevelled.
“Hey love, make it here okay?” he asks placing a kiss on your lips. You’re a little taken aback at his quick pace.
“Yeah fine, what was that noise”
He looks over to you taking a beat, “Knocked a chair over, was rushing around too quick I guess”
You nod, not fully believing him but trusting him enough that you didn’t pry further. The two of you fell into routine, pouring drinks for regulars, restocking liquor, cleaning glasses, having small conversations between customers.
“I’ve gotta check something in the flat, I’ll be back quick,” he says rushing up the back stairs.
You occupy yourself cleaning as you hear more noise from upstairs, deciding you needed to check it out for yourself. You make your way up the back stairs, slowly opening the door to the flat peering inside. It wasn’t anything spectacular, essentially just one large room, a bed at the far wall in front of a window, there was a small kitchen tucked against another wall, everything was very clean, it looked like he never used the furniture. You look around for him as you step into the room, following the sound of his heavy breaths around a corner, he’s standing at a large window looking out, a creak in the floor alerts him to your presence.
“Hey, sorry not as quick as I thought”
You look around, nothing is out of place so what was all the noise?
“It’s alright, just heard banging, didn’t know if you needed help with something”
“Huh? Oh- no was just looking for something, forgot where I’d placed it”
“Placed what”
He looks at you, jaw slack as he tries to think of a response.
“My tags, dog tags, wanted to throw them in with the rest of my stuff just couldn’t remember where they were”
You glance over, eyes locking on his bedside table, you flick your head in their direction.
“Found ‘em”
He huffs a laugh, crossing the room to pick them up, toying with them in his hands before moving over to you. He glances down at you, raising his arms to place the chain around your neck, you stare up at him, quirking your brow.
“Look better on you” he says, leaning to kiss your forehead.
Your fingers come up to fiddle with the tags, eyeing them over, Lt. Simon Riley, well at least you knew his last name now.
“Did you close up”
You shake your head.
“Right well, meet you outside in 5. I’ll drive you home”
He begins walking away,
“Why don’t we stay here tonight,” you ask and he stops in his tracks, “Easier that way, don’t have to wake up any earlier to get to work”
He thinks it through in his head, he’s never had anyone in his flat, let alone stay the night, but it’s you.
“Yea alright, just give me a minute to close downstairs”
You nod, taking the time to further explore the space. Lots of books, a guitar sat in the corner, no pictures, he had barely anything on the shelves, it looked like he only used the space to sleep if that, the bed was perfectly made, not a single wrinkle in the sheets. You strip your body of your clothes, rummaging through his drawers to find a shirt, throwing it over your form as you settle into the bed, senses overtaken by his scent that lingers on the pillows. Simon steps back into the room, eyes landing on your half-naked form,
“Comfy”
“Very,” you say, stretching your limbs over the mattress as you feel it dip from his weight. He lays back and you crawl over him, legs caging his hips as his arms secure themselves around your back, chin nuzzled into your neck.
You revel in his warmth as he places light kisses over the skin not covered by his shirt, making his way to nip at your neck eliciting a small moan from you. You crane your neck to bring your lips to his, kissing him softly as his hands move down to grab at your ass. Your kisses become feverish as you feel yourself grow needier, light pushing your lips against him, Simon moves to kiss along your jaw, lips settling under your ear.
“What do you want pretty girl”
“You, need you,” you say through gasps, grinding yourself down onto his hardening cock
“Need me to what”
“Need to feel you, need to feel your cock inside me”
“Atta girl” He grips your hips with bruising strength as he grinds you back and forth against him, your hands moving to plant on his chest as your clit catches on the fabric of his boxers.
He moves you at a brutal pace and you can feel the arousal pooling in your lower stomach.
“Soakin’ me already baby, you gonna cum just from grinding on me”
You bite your lip, nodding as the sensation takes over your body, your legs tensing as you dig your nails into his flesh, your slick leaking from your orgasm, soaking through your panties onto his hard length.
He lifts you off him, pulling his boxers down, his throbbing length slapping at the skin of his lower abdomen.
“Wanna ride you” you say breathlessly as Simon smirks.
You push yourself up, lining his cock up with your weeping cunt before settling down on him, taking him slowly, gasping at the stretch. His hands grab at your shirt, lifting it over your head before his lips move to kiss at your breasts, tongue teasing over your hard nipple as your fingers rest on his shoulders stabilizing you. Once you settled you begin bouncing slowly up and down his cock, your juices leaking down pooling at the base, and coating his pubic hair. He leans back, hands on your hips encouraging you to continue, he thrusts up abruptly, forcing your body forward, hands planting on his firm chest and you continue to ride him, the friction from his pubes hitting just the right spot that you’re able to grind your clit against him
“That’s right pretty girl, use me, make yourself cum on my cock”
You lean down to kiss him and his arms wrap around your back, holding you to him as he plants his feet against the mattress and begins thrusting up into you at a brutal pace, your head falls to his neck as choked sobs escape your lips. You bite down on the meat of his shoulder, hands grasping at the sheets as he continues to fuck you.
“Fuck - look at me, wanna see you when you make a mess all over my cock”
You arch your back, head coming to rest against his forehead as you stare down at him, your jaw’s fallen open, strings of moans escaping as he reaches to kiss you, forcing his tongue into your mouth as he continues his assault on your pussy.
“Fuck, m’gonna cum”
“That’s right, good girl, wanna feel you squeeze me”
He latches his lips to yours, swallowing the moans that come from your orgasm, fucking you through it at a brutal pace as he chases his own high.
“Fuck you feel so good, so tight” He groans eyes locking onto where your bodies meet, mesmerized at the sight of your pussy swallowing his large cock. You dig your nails into his shoulders as he grips tightly around you, thrusting a few more times until he lets out a loud moan and you feel your pussy being filled by his warm seed, pumping a few more times, letting you milk him dry as your foreheads come into contact again, the two of you rest against each other trying to catch your breath, he places a kiss to your lips before slowly rolling you over onto your side, holding you tight to his chest where you plant kisses over his scars.
You fall asleep quickly, your body tired and mind quiet at the sensation of Simon's breaths against your cheek, he listens to your breathing, his own mind racing with thoughts. He had followed your ex from your flat, conveniently walking down the street near the pub as Simon invited him in for a drink and a chat, Alex had obliged entering the doors before Simon locked them and wrapped his arms around his neck effectively incapacitating Alex, he wasn’t thinking, all he could feel was his anger, he hated him for hurting you, hating the fact that he had even been able to touch you even more, you were his, no one would touch you except him. He had dragged Alex’s body up the short flight of stairs into his flat, positioning him near the bathroom, giving him time to wake up before continuing his assault, he wanted him to feel every hit, every bruise and ache that would remind him not to go near you, Simon landed blow after blow to his body, blood spitting from his mouth pooling under his head. He didn’t mean to kill him, but somewhere along the way, his sight turned black, his fists moving on their own accord coming into contact with Alex’s head.
Simon stood back, catching his breath now fully aware of what he had done, ignorant to your presence downstairs he grabbed the body leaving it in the bathtub, he would come back later when his head was clear to clean up.
When he finally returned upstairs later he knew he had to be quick, wrapping the body and tossing it out the window into the alley behind, he knew the routine of the sanitation workers, he had enough time to take you home and come back to responsibly dispose of your ex so that no one would know it was him. What he didn’t account for was you, standing in his flat as his hands were wet with soapy water from cleaning the blood off the floor, he panicked, he couldn’t lie to you, he wanted you to trust him, but his instinct to protect you from who he really was took over.
He never planned on giving you his tags, but seeing the smile on your face after he put them on you he can’t picture you without them, a chain around your neck with his name, a visible marker to let him know that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.
He couldn’t sleep, even with the comfort of your body next to his, he had to clean up before you noticed anything. Carefully he removed himself from your arms, watching the way you tucked into yourself at the loss of warmth, he made his way over to the window to look upon the corpse, devising a plan that would allow him to get rid of it only for his eyes to focus on an empty alley.
The body was gone?
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley x you#ghost fluff#ghost smut#ghost cod#ghost x reader#cod mw2#ghost mw2#mw2022#call of duty mwii#cod mw x reader#ghost simon riley#simon ghost riley angst#simon ghost riley x you#call of duty#ghost angst#simon riley angst
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Never Just Two
Ghoap / Reader
(Wheelchair User Reader)
Chap1, Chap2, Chap3
"Liquid Courage"
Word Count: 1.7k
CW: Ghoap kinda being assholes
They thought it would be easy. Maybe you would go away in just a couple weeks, either done with your task, or hell- maybe you weren't that good and they'd get a replacement. Seems Ghost and Soap weren't so lucky. You were good at your job, damn good. You got the information they needed barely in a couple days. Laswell and the captain agreed to sign you onto the next mission, then the next.. now they were even considering making you a full fledged member of the task force.
Not only were you good at your designated tasks. But fuck. You were already acclimating well on the base, on the team. Already knowing Laswell, you came in with a good respect for eachother. You and Gaz bonded fairly quickly, apparently you briefly lived in his hometown around highschool. Not that you knew eachother deeply, just passed eachother in the halls. And Price, damn those paternal instincts, had done well taking you under his wing. Making sure things were accessible for you, making sure you didn't question your role here. You were soft spoken, he'd be damned if he let anyone on base walk over you.
You got along with everyone. Everyone except them. You definitely strayed away from the couple, slipping out of the room when they came in. If you couldn't leave you'd at least quiet down. You could meet Johnny's eyes if he asked something directly, with some brief glances away. But Simon definitely intimidated you the most, you didn't even look him in the eyes. But you were civil, speaking when spoken to, still handing them their designated information for missions. Wishing them luck just as you do the captain and Gaz. You were simply distant, as far as you knew, it was for your own good.
They couldn't deny their part in it. Simon directly threatened your life, Johnny did too- just having the slightest bit of subtlety about it. At first, with your growing kinship with the team, they were sure you were going to give them away. Not to mention, you saw Simons face. God did it make his spine itch, those he trusted saw him unmasked, he certainly didn't trust you. Simon is ashamed to say he tampered lightly with your computer in the first week, with little hope that you'd fuck up and be transferred. He knows it's low. He knows it's a bastard move. But you were a threat, a threat of losing Johnny. This little stunt didn't work, you completed your task without a hitch. Not even mentioning the clear tampering, you never reported it.
It was the second week that they stopped any sabotage towards you. The fact that you surprised them was an understatement. They made a mistake, one of the recruits saw them wander out of a room in the barracks together- looking.. out of breath to put it lightly. They were sure this was it, caught red handed, they'd be pressed on the subject and eventually the truth would come out. But you, just as Price questioned them, lifted your head and piped up.
"They were just helping me-"
Both Gaz and the captain blinked at you. You barely spoke to the pair, so you asking them for help was news to them.
"You? .. With what?"
Price questions with a raised brow, hand rising to paw at his own beard lazily. You shrugged.
"..I uh.. Had to move some furniture in my room in the barracks.. I can't push the dresser by myself sir."
All that day guilt swarmed in the two men's stomachs. Maybe they were being too harsh. So far you kept your promise, more than that really. Johnny's lips pursed once it was just him and Simon in his room.
"We cannae keep doin' this. Felt bad 'bout it before, now it's damn right cruel."
He mutters, dragging his nails over his scalp through the thick fur of his mowhawk.
Simon stayed silent but nodded in agreement, leaning up against the wall.
"Can't get rid of her now."
He mumbles in confirmation. Johnny scritches at his stubble slightly, which earned a light push on the wrist from Simon- Johnny had a habit of nervous ticks. Whether bouncing his knee or lightly scratching, either way the Lieutenant was trying to break him of it.
"Maybe we shouldn' have tried t' all."
Johnny grumbles. Regret weighing on him. They jumped to conclusions. Now feeling like a right arse. They quite literally were picking on a disabled woman in the workplace, looking like fucking idiots while doing so too. Especially considering that woman just helped them stay out of prying eyes.
Tonight the group was going out to celebrate, it took you some convincing from Gaz to come along with them. Teasing that you had to come since the mission wouldn't have gone well without you. Now you didn't believe him in the slightest, but praise had always been your weakness. So here you were, trailing beside them as they entered the old building. Price walking behind you, despite you saying you didn't need his help pushing the chair, he liked to remain close just in case you changed your mind.
The bar was nice, Gaz had told you it was the groups favorite. Cheap liquor, good music, and fairly empty most of the time besides regulars. You didn't mind the place either, the warm lighting soothed your nerves. Sinking a little into your seat comfortably. Heading over to the table with the rest of the guys. Gaz slides away a bar stool, letting you pull up your chair in the spot instead.
"Thanks Kyle."
You smile warmly, crossing your arms and leaning your elbows on the tabletop. The group moves to sit down. Gaz on your left, Ghost and Soap across from you, Price at the head of the table. Purposely sitting in the back so the bartender couldn't catch him lighting up a cigar as they waited on their usual drinks.
"Damn lucky this time boys."
The captain mumbles. Soap gives a cheeky grin and bumps shoulders with his Lieutenant beside him.
"Y'know I'd prefer ta call it skill Captain."
While idly chatting about the mission, drinks were slid onto the table by the bartender. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh into your hand as Price was being scolded for the smoke in his hand. Gaz however openly chuckles. Ghost huffs in amusement under his balaclava. Soap grinning ear to ear.
"No captain here Price, that lass is tellin' you off like hir own bairn-"
"Shut it.."
The older man groaned, tossing his hat on the table.
Sipping on the bourbon in your glass you watch with a quiet smile as the four bicker playfully between eachother. You sunk willingly into their background, not minding it at all. Honestly, you found comfort in it. So when Gaz proposed a game of pool over to the middle of the bar, you politely decline, deciding to nurse your drink at the table. However you swallow thickly as all four leave. Except one.
Simon stays seated across from you, making you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Looking down at the liquid in the glass, tracing your fingertips along the rim. You wanted to say something. Anything. Frustrated wasn't quite the word you felt with this man. Well, both of them. You open your mouth, glancing up you find the masked brute is staring right back at you. Closing your lips, jaw clenching. You notice him take a breath, before lifting his glass- slipping out his words right before taking a drink.
"You're awfully quiet."
The words come out of him, as if he isn't one of the reasons. You blink at him, brows furrowing. At first you wonder if he's fucking with you, being sarcastic. But it doesn't matter for your answer. You look down at your cup again, picking it up.
"Not really. We just don't talk much.."
You mumble in return. He's still watching you. You can't help but glance towards the other three, well mostly the two you feel comfortable with. But you find that Price is focused on the game and Gaz is most definitely busy teasing him for it.
There's another long moment of silence. You're glaring at the wood of the table. You both want to speak now, but the words are difficult to find. Hiding instead in frequent glances of distrust. You throw back the glass and down your drink, letting the liquid burn down your throat. Looking Simon straight in the eyes you say sternly.
"I know you have an issue with me. The both of you."
It's Simons turn to blink at you. He's not going to deny it. He's showed it rather clearly in his opinion. But. He does feel the urge to explain. It wasn't personal. He wants to say. He just can't lose Johnny. You were a risk. You were a risk he just wasn't willing to take.
"I don't care."
These are the words that catch him off guard. You stare at him in defiance. You're gripping your glass tightly with both hands.
"You don't have to like me. You can hate me if you want too. But I'm not going anywhere."
You say sharply. Simon hasn't heard you speak like this before. Usually you can be rather meek.
He shifts, opening his mouth to speak.
"We-"
"I know you were on my computer too."
Simon swallows his words instantly. His eyes were cold, he's gripping his glass just as hard as you are. Taking a long drink. You continue, he doesn't interrupt.
"I care about this team. I care about Price. I care about Gaz."
He expects that to be the end of it, but by the look of determination and the flush on your face, he's wrong.
"And whether you like it or not. I care about whether you and Soap get back from each mission too."
You take a deep long breath, your shoulders sinking slightly. You just wanted it off your chest, your eyes soften and you glance away again.
"You can be as terrifying as you want. You're not going to take this job away from me."
You say. Looking up at him slowly.
"So if you excuse me- .. I'm going to go lose horribly at pool."
You say with an unreasonable amount of confidence. Pushing back from the table to roll towards the group of three. Leaving Simon at the table with your outburst and a half full drink.
He can't help but stare holes into the back of your head. Downing his drink in one gulp. He underestimated you.
{ugh! Feels good to be writing again! Apologies this series will have chapters around this length, not too much longer than 2k at the most. This is kinda a mini fic for now. However! ♥️ Will be taking requests! And if anyone wants on the tag list for this, lemme know!}
#cod x reader#disabled reader#call of duty x reader#cod mw x reader#johnny mactavish#john soap mactavish#johnny mactavish x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#soap x reader#ghoap x reader#ghostsoap x reader
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god bless rhonda hurley. for @spnficrecfest
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FRAGILE by dragonspell sam/dean, 3.4k, nc-17 Dean likes to pretend he's the stronger one. But Sam knows just how fragile Dean can be on the inside. Now he just wants the outside to match.
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