juvenillia

[juvenillia]

~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 21: broken

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: peeking around the corner, ehrm hey i am kinda back? sorry for my very long radio silence, as a lil excuse i got an extra long chapter for you guys, i hope you're still interested in this story. and dont worry i'll finish it, updates will just take me longer but they'll come! just leave a comment if you wanne be add to the taglist to not miss an updte, well let me know what you think! lots of loves jules

CW/TW: fluff, longing, teasing, mentions of angst, trauma, nightmares, suicide, rape, enslavery, loss of loved ones, torture

wordcount: 6.6k

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It was still early when Simon woke from what appeared to be some sort of clicking noise. Usually his eyes would've snapped open, but something was different. This wasn't the usual situation he found himself in the morning. He felt utterly relaxed and secure. His sleepy eyes went through the area. Though upon closer inspection of the room, he couldn’t identify the source of the sound. The common room was empty, the sound of your steady breaths filtering into his ears. He didn't dare to look up, fearing that it’d be one of those damn dreams.

But it wasn't. Your hand was still placed flat on his back, the other was nearly trapped in between his gloved ones. Closing his eyes once again, he allowed himself some more time to enjoy the moment, his head rising and falling with your soft breaths. You were still fast asleep, the situation causing a smile to tug at the corner of his lips for a few seconds before his face fell back to its usual resting stoic manner. Reminding himself, he couldn’t stay like this, especially not in this place, that's why he slowly pushed himself up, trying not to wake you during the process. 

Sitting at your feet, he tugged you back under the blanket, causing you to shift and grimace in discomfort before relaxing once more. The corner of his lips twitching upwards again at the sight. It was the same peaceful face he saw so often before, when you fell asleep around the team and he'd carry you back to your bunks. How often did he have to pull himself out of your room, when he actually just wanted to stay in your company. And now, he was here, in your embrace. He shook his head, somehow in amusement and somehow in disbelief, and made his way to the other side of the room.

Quietly preparing some tea in the little kitchen corner, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what a normal morning could feel like? His eyes occasionally dart back to your sleeping figure. He let himself dream for just another moment. Imagining how the mornings in his small apartment in Manchester with you by his side could feel like. Images of you wearing his shirt, sharing a bed instead of this stinky couch, laughing while enjoying your favorite tea. It appeared like one of the most peaceful thoughts he had in a long time. Just like last night was one of the most peaceful sleeps he ever had. He wasn't even sure if he ever thought of something like this. Not after Ghost came into his life, that was for sure. Almost all domestic thoughts flooded his mind and a smile clung to his lips, well hidden behind his mask. Everything about the possibility of a different life. A life he could and wanted to share with you, although he was quick to shake those thoughts aside. He hadn’t a different life, so he’d allow himself to cherish the little moments the world - you - could give him.

“What a beautiful…” Johnny's voice boomed through the common room, but got immediately interrupted. Simon signaled him to lower his voice, an open palm stretched out to him before pointing to your sleeping figure on the couch. Johnny’s eyes were filled with concern as he took your figure in. “Did she sleep here again?” You often escaped your room in the last weeks. Always explained it with noisy neighbors.

Simon only nodded, concealing the fact that you’d slept in each other's embrace and suppressing a smile behind the mask. He couldn’t let the Sergeant win this. Johnny started to make himself some coffee as Simon moved over to the couch, sitting down next to you in his usual spot. The cushions shifted beneath his weight as the scent of your favorite tea flooded your nostrils and you slowly woke from your sweet slumber. That was a little perk of being a light sleeper.

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you looked up at him, nodding sleepily when he held out the cup of tea for you. The smile that adorned your face was grateful, cheeks flushed with heat when your fingers brushed his as you accepted the offering. Looking into his gaze now in the morning light you froze. There was something lighter in his eyes now, a softness permeating through the usual coldness. Beneath the warpaint, the chaos of high stress missions and the stoicism he always hid his emotion behind, something had been allowed to shine through. Something that looked an awful lot like hope.

“Thank you, Simon.” You sleepily said with a genuine and nearly shy smile on your lips. Soap watched on with mixed feelings while sitting in the armchair across from you. He was annoyed his Lieutenant still hadn't asked you out despite encouragement, and overwhelmed by the obvious pining. Still, he somehow enjoyed this show. He thought it was adorable how helpless the behemoth of a man became when it came to you. Even if Simon thought to conceal all those things, Johnny knew fairly well and in his opinion he already had won. 

It was a lazy morning, you and the boys went separate ways, after sharing the preferred morning drinks, to complete the day's work. Stopping by the office to drop off Simon’s hoodie at his desk (again), you noticed a package sitting on yours. 

“What’s in there?” Kyle skipped all polite morning phrases and just asked directly, coming to stand behind you as you opened the box. He hovered over your shoulder trying to get a better look. Was it still awkward how close you grew to all of them in such a short period of time? Eventually? Did you mind? Not anymore.

“You know Kyle, curiosity killed the cat.” You smiled smugly and closed the box again. “Need any help, mate?” Your glance wandered to the wall, at the map you produced over the last few days. Kyle shook his head no, still that usual soft smile on his lips. “Call me if you change your mind,” you said simply while patting his shoulder, before you turned on your heel, taking the box from your desk and one from your drawer, to bring them back to your room. 

The day continued peacefully. The usual drills like working out with Johnny, taking a run with Kyle, looking after some recruits. Nothing too thrilling. But somehow, you felt uneasy around the recruits. Usually Simon would’ve kept you company but today you were on your own. Nothing you were afraid of, but you had a bad feeling in your stomach and you learned to trust that by now. So you stayed cautious, and you shouldn’t be disappointed in your feelings. The hour was late when you were called in to see Price in his office, your curiosity only growing when you met the familiar brown eyes of your Lieutenant. He held a little envelope in his hand, that he immediately shoved into his pocket as you walked up to them.

“Perfect. Just the two I wanted to see.” Price announced facing you, as you stood next to Simon. John’s usual soft features were serious and stern. You swallowed, fearing that he might have taken notice of your unprofessional behavior. Maybe some of the recruits had seen both of you this morning. Maybe that’s why you felt so uneasy around them, because they did report it to Price.  Nothing so uncommon, nothing you haven’t seen before. Especially as part of a special ops unit. Price handed a file to his first mate before he continued and pulled you out of your thoughts. “Thanks to all our hard work, we tracked down the main center of actions and transactions. If we can get access to the bank accounts, we are as good as finished with the job. I want you two to go get it,” he explained while his gaze switched between both of you. “Skadi you’re the expert when it comes to hacking and Ghost is best at slinking about in the shadows.” Your shoulders loosened in relief as you realized it was just a regular briefing. But somehow you were sure that you weren’t off the hook. Price was way too observant. He knew his team too well to ignore the changes you brought.

“When are we heading out?” Simon handed you the file, and your eyes instantly started to read through the lines. His voice was calm as always.

“Early. 0300. Laswell will await you on the other side. Any more questions?” Price looked at both of you.

“Negative,” you said with ease, looking up at your Captain, whose glance switched the slightest. His eyes darted between both of you. It crossed your mind again, that he definitely knew and you would be totally damned. 

“You got each other’s back. Right?” His open palms stretched out in front of him. Both of you nodded simultaneously, which made a smile appear on Price’s face. A well known smile. “Good. Dismissed.”

Heading out was easy as always. You bid your goodbyes to Johnny and Kyle who were heading out themselves later, trying to get rid of the next weapon delivery from the warehouses. Same task for Price and König. The mission was simple. Maybe it was because you and Ghost were able to work perfectly in tandem, a well oiled machine also in silence. Even after splitting up, it was no big deal. He was your missing piece and you knew that fairly well.

Staying in contact, you quickly found the room you needed. Thanks to Ghost taking care of anything coming your way, you could easily log into the computers and fight your way through the security softwares. You could watch Ghost over the monitor and warn him if any uninvited guests would cross his way while he made sure to have a way out ready. 

“Skadi,” some time later Ghost’s voice echoed through the comms as you browsed through the various files, your eyes darting to the monitor. He didn’t need an affirmation that you watched him, he simply knew. He always did. “Look at that.” His head pointed onto different huge containers, the latest order of weapons you supposed.

Your eyes widened as you noticed the flag of the United States of America all over the containers. “What the hell.” Your eyes found his, as he looked directly into the camera. Even over the distance you had this special connection and an unsettling feeling spread over both of you.

An alarm setting off in the distance pulled you back and gave the sign to leave. “We need to leave.” Ghost’s voice was stern, as he immediately made his way back to your position.

“Give me one second.” Your eyes scanned through the files to get more information about the possible supplier. You needed to dig deeper. Russians and Mexican cartel working together was one thing, but what did god damn America have to do with it now? Was it just a cover for the deliveries? Or was something more behind it? You needed to find out.

“Skadi. Now!” It was a clear order as he stood in front of the door which separated you. You pulled the hard drive out and ran after Ghost, trailing close behind and trying to not gain any more attention. “Laswell sent coordinates of a safe house. 4 clicks away.” He already sent all the new intel her direction, to make sure she could find something out. Bursting through a door you spilled out onto the rooftop, frantically looking for an exit that wasn’t through the horde of enemies which flooded your original way out.

“How did the alarm even go off?” You pushed the door closed again while Simon barricaded it with a thick metal pipe. Afterwards you searched for a possible escape route.

“Doesn’t matter now, ’st need a way out of here.” Ghost joined your search for a safe way out, gaze scanning your surroundings until he found a pipe connecting to what looked like the sewerage system.

“It could lead into the lake.” You voiced, having remembered seeing one on the opposite side of the safe house as you entered. Not exactly ideal, but far better than shooting your way out, not to mention the added benefit of washing away your tracks. “We could give it a go.” You shrugged, watching as your Lieutenant already opened the pipe.

“So, a midnight swim?” He looked at you while placing the seal of the pipe onto the floor.

“How romantic.” The words crossed your lips before you could stop them. An awkward silence settled over the two of you as you screamed internally, slapping yourself for the unprofessionalism. While you had accepted the complicated bundle of emotions you held for him didn’t mean you had to shove them into his face. Hoping he’d take it as your usual teasing jokes. Especially after neither of you had talked about the night in the common room. But the sweet chuckle of your kneeling Lieutenant eased your mind a bit, and at the same time you cursed him for that same reason.

What you didn’t know was that your comment somehow struck a nerve deep down in him. He promised himself to not waste any more time and still he did nothing to help the situation to even make some progress. Something he really had to change. Nobody could know how much time you’d had left with your career paths, and still he couldn’t bring himself to take the first big step. “Ladies first.” He held out a hand to guide you into the huge pipe.

“What a gentleman.” You took his hand, gave him a sweet smile before sliding down the pipe, clutching to your rifle to not lose it. Simon waited a bit before following. Making sure to close the pipe before and to be sure that he wouldn’t directly bump into you during the process. To your fortune the pipe actually led into the lake, so both of you quickly made your way back to the shore. Completely soaked with the cold water. “Jesus. H Christ…Kate really owes me a hot bath,” you said while checking the hard drive while the cold crawled into your system. 

Simon only laughed while he checked the coordinates. “6 clicks. Yer gonna make it?” His voice held a bit of concern, but his eyes were still stoic as he looked at you. Putting his rifle back in its usual position. He was still in survival mode.

“Well, it’s either that or dying out here in the cold.” Your voice was slightly sarcastic. Even as you were a year-long trained soldier who had been through hell and back, you still hated the cold. It was your greatest weakness, besides the inner demons you kind of summoned yourself. “Could be worse.” You added softly while putting the hardware away and pulling your own rifle back in position.

“’t least we ‘ave each other.” His accent grew thicker as his eyes burned themselves into you with that sentence. A sentence that held a deeper meaning that you knew right there and then. You blinked at him in confusion about the sudden change in his tone. “Well…” He cleared his throat. “...imagine havin’ Soap whinin’ the whole time.” He cleared his throat once more and averted his gaze into the direction of the safehouse. Johnny could get whiny when he had enough and the mission was as good as over, but he merely did it to annoy his teammates rather than to be actually complaining. It was his way to ease the mood after a long and draining mission. With a sweet laugh of yours you started following Simon’s lead, which would bring you to the safehouse. Waiting for your pick-up after another successful mission.

It took you a good amount of time to arrive at the little cabin. It was nothing special, but well hidden. So, you actually could get some rest and maybe a bit of warmth into your soaked bodies. Simon held the door open for you to step in, after that he locked it and made sure to barricade it. The cabin itself was small, only two rooms. Something like a living room with an old couch in it, which you moved so it faced the door. A little kitchen corner, smaller than the one in the common room back at base and it was definitely out of order. And a small bathroom. Only a sink and a toilet that didn’t seem to work either. “Cozy.” You exhaled while stripping out of your tactical vest and placing it onto the little wooden shelf Simon used as a barricade for the door.

“Could be worse,” he repeated your sentence from earlier while he also pulled himself out of the vest and jacket. Slowly slipping out of his complete survival mode. “Seems like Watcher was prepared though.” He pointed at a duffle bag sitting on the ancient looking couch. Simon leaned against the shelf while you opened the bag.

“Hell yeah!” You pulled out some more civilian, but more important dry clothes. “Prepared as always. Even packed a spare one for you.” You pulled a casual black balaclava out of the bag. You smiled at him while handing him the soft and dry fabric. Nobody followed you here, nobody knew you were here besides Laswell and the driver who’d pick you up. So why not change into dry and warm clothes before the next life or death situation awaits you?

“Maybe we'll find some towels as well,” he said calmly while taking the black mask out of your hand. His gloved fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. Before he went to the bathroom to look for said utensils, taking the bigger shirt and pants out of the duffle bag and with him. 

“Well, no luck therefore.” You could hear his voice with ease from the other room, followed by a shuffling of clothes. You decided to take that time to quickly change out of the soaked bodice and exchange it with the simple shirt Kate packed for you. As well as you switched the wet cargo pants against the ones out of the bag. Getting out of the soaked fabric wasn’t that easy as it clung to your skin. It took you a moment longer than usual, a moment that granted Simon a view he’d never forget. Standing back in the room, the wet clothes in his hands, as he gulped at the sight of your ass in nothing more than the wet panties that fitted you like a second skin. His hands clutching tight at the fabric in his hand. He had to force his eyes away. It wasn’t appropriate, he knew that, but he couldn’t suppress the burning in his abdomen. A feeling that was quite unfamiliar for him. 

“Lieutenant?” Your innocent voice dragged his attention back to you, while you couldn’t even imagine that he might peek. “You broken?” It was a teasing comment as you sat down on that stinky old couch after. A place most people would’ve been disgusted by, but you rested on worse things.

“’m good.” His answer was almost shy as he walked over and leant against the wooden shelf in front of the door. Placing the clothes down. You nodded as answer and rolled your shoulders back. Why did you suddenly feel so uneasy, almost nervous? Still you couldn’t help but take in the sight in front of you. It was rarely that Simon wore a plain shirt and jeans around you. Kate made sure to pack some very casual clothes in case you had to take cover. So it really was an unusual choice of clothing for the man in front of you. Most of the time on base he’d still wear some tac trousers and a hoodie. Still you could get used to this sight. Your eyes stopped at his arm. Or better said at his tattoo, staring at it a moment too long.

Simon chuckled, what immediately brought your eyes up to his masked face. “But ‘m the one with a staring problem, hm?” He laughed while crossing his arms in front of his chest. His teasing comment made you smile while leaning a bit further into the couch.

“Maybe I’m just a fan of tattoos?” It wasn’t a complete lie, more of a half-assed excuse. You’ve never seen his sleeve complete. He preferred to wear concealing clothes rather than revealing. Having his beefy arms so clearly on display did something to you, but his tattoo indeed caught your interest. “Never saw yours completely, that’s all…” Before you could continue the sentence, you could hear a deep exhale from him, followed by Simon pushing himself up from that shelf and sitting down next to you on the couch. Knees and body facing towards you. Both of your rifles were leaned against the couch on each side, giving easy access just in case.

“Go on ‘en. Take a look.” His voice contained that challenging undertone again, while he held his arm into your direction. It made you sit up straighter. Your eyes looking into his eyes before averting down to his arm. Taking in the different images, which built the whole piece of art together. He was so close next to you, and still it felt like you were worlds apart. You could feel his gaze burning on yourself, as your own eyes got hooked onto a specific part of his tattoo. A pair of dog tags. Your fingers twitched and before your brain could stop them, your hand reached out to his arm to twist it a bit to take a closer look. He tensed at your sudden touch, but he didn’t interrupt it. Too curious what you’d do again and where it’d lead you. Your fingers brushed gently over that spot on his arms, your brows furrowed slightly as you took the symbol for a fallen soldier in, asking yourself who he had lost on his way that was worth the daily reminder.

Simon observed every move you made, every twitch of your fingers and eyes. He took in the concerned features of your face and another deep breath left his lungs. C’mon Riley, she’s fuckin’ worth it. He mentally punched himself, before he found his voice again. “’ey’re mine.” It was only a whisper, something so uncommon for him, but it was enough that your head tilted in his direction. Instantly meeting his piercing and unreadable gaze. The teasing fractures lingering in between completely vanished. There was nothing more but sorrow and regret in them, but also trust. You couldn’t make out what he really wanted to tell. “Reminder for ‘e day Simon died.” 

Your eyes darted between his, processing what he just said. There were so many questions circling your mind, but you couldn’t say anything. It was like your tongue was tied and you didn’t want to dig deeper into that, to push him even more. The statement alone was more than you thought he'd ever tell you. Your fingers lingered on his forearm, gaze turning back to them and your face relaxed a bit. Simon literally was your calming spot. Even with the storm of thoughts in your mind, you felt relaxed with him next to you. Not to mention the warmth his body provided.

His eyes trailed from your soft features to your hand lingering on him, over to this daily reminder. It was a part of him, of his past. The day Simon Riley died, and Ghost was born. It took him plenty of therapists, and a lot of effort to become Simon again. But here, alone with you, it wasn’t hard at all. The feeling of your somehow calloused and still soft hands on his skin. The sound of your calm breaths. It was like Ghost didn’t need to exist. Did it scare him? Eventually. But he needed that. He wanted it for himself more than anything. His hand found yours, as his eyes lingered on your knuckles. A deep scar was sitting right between the first two digits. It was a shame how much you already had to endure, he thought. The scar didn’t look old. Not as old as he supposed it to be. 

“What?” Your voice was calm, but his sudden movement surprised you. Never before did Simon initiate contact with you, if not for work purposes of course. His bare thumb brushed over your knuckles, over the damaged skin. It was a different sensation to feel his skin onto yours. You thought his hands to be rougher, but you felt nothing but a soothing tingle. His thumb stopped over the deepest part of the pointy scar. 

Before he could even ask, you responded. “Oh…” A desperate chuckle left your throat but got stuck. “It’s … It’s nothing. It was after a nightmare…”, you paused for a moment. Why did everything feel so natural when it came to Simon Riley? You didn't know, but you knew that it was so easy to open yourself up around him, even if he never demanded it or insisted for you to tell him about your past. It just felt easy. “... of Randy’s death…” The chuckle was completely gone, but the softness remained in your tone. “I was mad at myself, again… and I punched a mirror because I hated what I saw. A shard got stuck.” You explained while he pulled your hand closer, to take a better look. His eyes were soft as they looked back at you. He didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t need to. His eyes told you everything you needed to know. It was the same one thing you always saw in those brown orbs: 

I understand. You're not alone.

He slowly let go of your hand, to push the sleeve of his shirt a bit up. Hesitant first, but nevertheless he revealed a weirdly shaped scar. Two dots, they looked way too small on his thick arm. “My… father…” He started to be hesitant. He took his time while his chest felt heavy. Simon had never told anyone else besides Price, but he knew that you deserved this. “He had some weird…hobbies…” Simon’s eyes were pinned onto the wounded skin. “Brought fuckin’ snakes into our home… wanted us to become brave…” You absently reached out to the spot. Your thumb circled around it while your hand couldn’t reach around his whole arm. “Said that’s how we’d become real men.” 

Brows furrowed, as your brain processed all the information. Your eyes found those dark ones again. Just like him you didn’t respond to his words. He didn’t need any pity. The look in your eyes was enough for him. A glance full of understanding, of empathy and at the same time adoration. Something he always found in your eyes. Even after the darkest moment, they brought a light into his life. A warm feeling did spread in his chest. That was something he couldn't let go off.

You swallowed the lump back in your throat while pulling your hand back. Somehow this became the time you reveal your lifes to each other. This was the turning point you never thought could happen. Simon let you in, he let you see his soul. So the only thing you could do was repay the amount of trust. Aiming for the hem of your shirt, you slowly pulled it up. “Back when I became Lieutenant,” you started slowly, but it was so natural to talk about it. Completely different sensation to talking to a therapist.”, they sent me out to take care of some hostages. I took König with me. It is his specialty.” You pulled the hem higher up, revealing a huge burn mark beneath. From the left side of your abdomen to way higher was nothing but burned skin. “It was a trap… a set up. I miscalculated the whole thing. König saved my life, and in the process, he burned nearly half of his face and upper body. Still feel fucking guilty about it when everything I got was… this.” 

Simon slowly reached out to let his hand stroke over the burned skin. Your tense shoulders relaxed as his hand stroked over your flesh, while your heart started pounding against your chest.. His hands were much softer than you ever expected and his touch so warm. They came to a halt. But not on that injury you told him about, it was a bit lower, a scar he was too familiar with. His hand took the grip of your waist, gently but destined. His warm hand lingering over the scar you got back in the chem factory. The scar he caused, the one he felt immense guilt for. He pulled you a bit closer, his forearm resting on your thigh by now, he didn't dare to let go of your waist. You only shook your head knowing about his internal fight, signaling to him that it is fine. Even if he wanted to apologize another time; he didn’t. But he decided something different.

Simon’s head hung low for a second, you could see how the wheels in his head kept turning and working, before he took his free hand to pull up his shirt. Mentally he was having a fight. Simon vs. Ghost. The familiar fight he always had when it came to you. His other hand stayed on your waist, glued onto that spot even when your shirt was already down again. His hand felt like it belonged there and you couldn’t mind after all. 

His free hand revealed his bare stomach and part of his chest while pulling the shirt up. If this were a normal situation between civilians, then you’d be already on another. But this was anything but normal. You both open to another in a way that was more intimate than anything you have ever witnessed. It made your heart ache. There were several scars planted onto his perfect body, but one stood out. 

It was just below his chest, above his rips. His free hand pointed it out before he looked into your eyes. His glance held nothing but trust as your hand already reached out and you placed your flat palm onto his rib cage. You could feel his muscles flex beneath your touch. You could feel how his chest heaved to let go of a deep breath. A breath he didn't notice to hold in. “I…I once was captured.” He started slowly; his voice was so low and nearly trembled. You just knew that this was hard for him to talk about. “They tortured me. Tried to break me.” 

He still faced you but his eyes shifted into the distance. Another deep breath followed while you listened carefully, keeping track of every word. “Raped me. Hung me from a hook which they put through my ribs.” Your eyes went back to the spot your hand was placed on, your thumb slowly brushing over the spot said hook left. Simon knew that even after all those years he could still feel the pain within these scarred skin. But suddenly here, in this decrepit cabin, with your soft touch it felt okay. “They even buried me alive. They…he took everything from me.” A pathetic chuckle left his throat, while his eyes focused onto your figure again. “But Ghost came back.” 

The hand on your waist gently squeezed you, while the slightest smile tugged at the corner of your lips and suddenly you realized the real meaning of his tattoo. Suppressing the need to say something, it became an unspoken deal. Telling each other about those things without any commentary. Because it was easier that way. Because you literally knew what the other would say about it anyways, because you did understand. You always understood each other. You were his missing piece and he was yours. That’s what you really needed to say to each other and still, neither of you could.

Maybe those emotions were misplaced in this very moment, but he trusted you enough to tell you all of that and you trusted him. You withdrew your hand and went for the strains of your hair sitting on your shoulder. You tilted your head to the right side to reveal your throat. A deep scar just sitting at the side of it. A scar Simon already had seen during the time you were unconscious in the infirmary. His hand immediately reached out to lay soft over it. It made your breath hitch for a moment. “I once…” You started but could feel how the air left your lungs. Simon squeezed your waist once more. Just a sign of comfort, of reassurance to take your time. One hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder. “Before the 141… before the Wolves… there was someone.” 

You averted your glance from his. Staring down to your lap where your hands found each other. “He … I … “Simon’s hand wandered from your shoulder to your cheek. Taking a firm grip and you instantly leaned into his touch. Closing your eyes at the comfort he brought you, the strength to go on. “… we made a promise. We’d rather see the end together or we’ll go down below with each other.” Biting the inside of your cheek he didn’t hold, you looked back at him. “He did go… and I couldn’t keep my promise.” A burning sensation spread through your throat and you could feel tears building up in the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t remember the last time you cried in front of a person that wasn’t Randy nor König. “I didn’t succeed.” 

Your words let his stomach turn. The vicious look in your  watery eyes, a look he knew too well. He pulled you a bit closer, your knees now trapped between his thighs, while his thumb caressed your cheek. In this moment he wanted to break the silence, to tell you so much, he wanted to thank god that you couldn’t keep that promise. That he got the chance to meet you. That you had changed his life and point of view. His masked forehead tilting down to rest against yours by now. His eyes closed while your hands were still clutching on another. The tears stopped. His touch sent shivers down your spine, the coldness was completely gone as you leaned more into him. Your heart was pounding in your chest and still you felt nothing but save.

Before you could start to enjoy this closeness, he pulled back. His hand leaving your face, he didn’t want to force you to look at him, as his thumb hooked under the hem of his mask. He didn’t want to pressure you to do anything. “’ose folks.” He slowly pulled the black fabric up, revealing his chin covered in a blonde stubble, something you had seen often before during your night smokes. But he kept pulling the fabric and with every inch he pulled up, he knew that Ghost had finally lost this fight. “They didn’t stop. For nothing.” 

Your heart was nearly exploding as the mask slipped past his lips, past the tip of his nose. You couldn’t help but stare. His upper lip was parted through a huge scar that reached his cheek. It was on his right side, the side that was always hidden when he sat next to you. His nose crooked. Your hands let go of each other as you reached out to let your thumb hover over the scar, over his lip. Not daring to touch it. 

“Wanted to mark me in every way possible…” His thumb let go of the mask to let it sit halfway on his face. Already revealing some of the warpaint on his cheeks. He tilted his head slightly so one of your hands cupped his cheek, just like he did with you before, and he nearly melted under your delicate touch. 

Your free hand reached for the mask, pulling it the slightest to see if he’d intervene. But he didn’t, he only closed his eyes, and you pulled the mask completely off his face. Revealing his messy blonde hair underneath. Some more scars all over his face, mostly covered by the black paint. He opened his eyes once more as you didn’t move any further. Breath caught in his throat, bracing himself to find any sort of disgust or regret, as his glance were pinned onto yours but he found nothing but adoration. 

As you took in all the features of his face, you couldn't help but trace some of his scars with your finger. Soft and carefully. Like he could break any second under your touch, but he did nothing but absorb even the slightest touch. Simon Riley was nothing less than perfect to you. He was equally handsome as pretty and every part of his damaged skin told a story. A story you were a part of now and you couldn’t wait to write the next chapters.

You were sitting closer together than before, the hand that held onto the black fabric lingering on his thigh as you leaned just a bit more into him. Your lips brushing only the slightest over the scar on his cheek. So close to his lips, but still not there yet. Still enough to make him squeeze your waist another time. Your thumb caressing his cheek afterwards. A moment so short that Simon asked him if that really happened. He wasn’t the person to grow nervous or lightheaded, but right now he felt as helpless as a kid again, but for the first time in a good way. Somehow awkward and still so hopeful. His free hand found your other waist, as his now bare forehead was pressed against yours. 

Nobody said anything anymore. You just stayed in that moment. Both found more than you could’ve ever wished for. Both of you were broken, shattered into pieces. But Randy once told you that even a broken piece could become a whole. Maybe he was right. Because right here, in that cabin in god knows which forest, both of you found some peace. Some solace. You found an intimacy stronger than anything you could’ve imagined. You found something neither of you thought could ever happen to you.

His hands held you firm by your waist, while you clung to his cheek. Foreheads pressed against each other. No words were needed anymore. Nothing left to say, as he pulled away. Only the slightest. Only to be able to look into your eyes again. By now you were sure, that the thing you slightly witnessed in his glance was hope. Something you thought yourself had lost. 

The slightest smile tugging at his lips, causing you to do the same, as his eyes darted between yours and your lips. You could feel your heart exploding beneath your ribs as he leaned in again. Different than before. His head slightly tilted, his nose only merely millimeters away from yours. You could feel his hot breath brushing over your skin and you closed your eyes, entrusting him with whatever he’d do. And Simon acted. He didn’t listen to the internal screams of Ghost. He didn’t think with his brain. He did something he thought he had forgotten: He listened to his heart. It would only take one more second till… 

taglist: open

@yyiikes @saffronimagines @originaldeerhottub @illuminwtesz @killergoddess97 @kaelaiscool @spiritndrain @zhodie @anothersimpsblog @backupgal @hungryhungariann @victoriazynui @ohworm-writes @kmbrlyy444 @just-pure-trash @shadowtfpcod

#simon ghost riley #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #dopom #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x female reader #cod mw x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost mw2 #task force 141 #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #john soap mactavish #cod mw ghost #ghost cod #cod fanfic #ghost x you

[juvenillia]

Hey, chums!🤍

It's been a long time... but the new chapter is almost ready for publication.

I just need to proofread everything, so expect an extra-long chapter by the start of next week. 🤍

#dopom #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #jules tea talk #story update #ghost x reader #cod mw x reader #simon ghost x reader

[juvenillia]

I might have been absent for longer than intended (which I'm genuinely sorry for!), but I'm cooking atm and the next dopom chapter will be the longest ever to make it up to yall still interested in the story 🩶

#jules speaks #story update #dopom #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader

[juvenillia]

happy holidays ❄️✨

#i have many inappropriate things to say #this artist is a blessing for the community

[juvenillia]

Actually, I wanted to take some good quality pictures to share with yall. Well, this is all I got. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate.

I'm very grateful for everyone on my blog and for this amazing community. I joined the fandom pretty late, but it gifted me so many amazing humans and passion (which I thought I lost a long time ago).

I love yall, stay frosty my chums.🩶

I'll be back with writing on the 27th, and DoPoM will finally get the next (extra long) chapter.

#jules cosplay #merry christmas #merry xmas #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost cosplay #cod cosplay #cod mw ghost #ghost call of duty

[juvenillia]

All I want for Christmas

For my lovely wife @juvenillia as a part of the secret Santa exchange. I'm sorry it took so long love

Simon Riley x f! reader

Summary: Your holiday plans are thwarted when the task force is abruptly called away for a mission.

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: reader celebrates Christmas.

You’d always been ambivalent towards the holidays, especially the christmas season. The wonder that had illuminated your childhood at the lights, the decorated trees and the general spirit people exuded had long since faded. While you didn’t hate the holiday season, it was hard to muster up the same level of excitement and magic that children seemed to naturally conjure. 

When it came down to it, you supposed the issue in truth was your family, or rather the lack thereof, most of the remaining members of your jagged family being low, to no contact completely. Atleast, that was the case until your old lieutenant, John Price, had dragged you into his new off the books task force. Sergeants Kyle Garrick and John Mactavish were hard people to hate, not that you’d tried, and both had very quickly wormed their way into your heart through the high stress situations you’d endured together over the years. 

Though given the way Soap had seemingly latched on with both hands and refused to let you go, dragging you to his concernigly empty home in Scotland to spend the holidays together a few years back let you know that he was likely just as lonely. Kyle had hosted the next, Captain Price had been bullied into opening his apartment for the third, and then when it became apparent this would be a 141 tradition, surprisingly Laswell and her wife had welcomed you all with open arms into their home. 

It was through your team, your family, that you started to once again regain that childlike wonder for the holidays. Even Simon, grinch that he seemed to be was always present, glass of Eggnog in his hand as he watched his teammates engage in childlike behaviour from the corner. Soap had tried to pester the large man into wearing the matching pajamas that you, Kyle and him all now proudly wore but that was apparently a step too far. 

You weren’t fooled by his nonchalant persona though, not when you could still so clearly picture the shock and vulnerability that had settled over his pretty unmasked face the first time you’d handed him a full stocking decorated painstakingly with his name in silver thread. The stockings you’d made for your team were incredibly shoddy, a labour of love not skill. Yet even two years later, frayed and chunky, they were still in use. Johnny had been genuinely aghast when you’d tried to take them back, to buy them new, better quality ones. 

With the way your eyes seemed to naturally gravitate towards Simon it would have been impossible not to notice the way he had flinched slightly at your suggestion, hands protectively clutching his stocking. Nor could it escape your notice that every year as the stocking frayed more and more, Simon’s still seemed to be in immaculate shape. Somedays you could swear it seemed to be better off than when you’d first gifted it, though that was probably wishful thinking.  

Your fifth Christmas with the team was rapidly approaching, a fact Johnny wouldnt let you forget, practically vibrating out of his skin at the exciting prospect of celebrating Christmas at your place. As you and Simon were the only remaining members who hadn’t hosted the onus had fallen on you even if you hadn’t volunteered. It seemed the entire squad had silently assumed it would be you, not the paranoidly private Simon, yourself included. 

The apartment you lived in was small but comfortable, and with two weeks until Christmas it was already decked out with lights, tinsel and a small tree covered in garish ornaments. You’d received some odd looks from people in the shopping centre but you were too excited to care. Presents had been bought, multiple for each of your teammates in fact when you kept finding better gifts. Or rather, you’d gathered an assortment of gifts for everyone but Simon. Nothing seemed to quite fit. Sure, there had been a few bits and bobs that you could have settled for, but in your mind nothing had been good enough for him, his gift needed to be perfect. An announcement that the centre was closing ringing through the stores PA system had you dejectedly walking back to your car, the determined promise of tomorrow for sure ringing through your mind. 

Tomorrow is thwarted when the phone you keep in the bedside drawer rings urgently at 3am, rousing you from the light slumber that was characteristic of all your nights sleep. It only takes a few minutes for the gorgginess to exit your system as Price’s grim voice filters through the speaker as you roll out of bed with a less than professional whine. Couldn’t the terrorists or whoever have waited until after the holiday season? Until March even?

Johnny’s just as pouty as you and though the two of you form a coalition to turn your best puppy dog eyes on Price to try and convince him to pawn whatever bullshit mission you’ve been called on to another squad, the captain apparently doesn’t find the act cute enough. Simon jokes that Soap’s ugly mug probably hindered more than anything and thus you were stuck between the two as a sacrificial lamb before things escalated. 

Between the early wake up call and the prospect of being called out so close to Christmas tensions were running a little high. The lack of decent intel further fraying the nerves of everyone bar the ever unflappable Ghost who sat rigid and alert as ever even when you slumped down in the seat next to him on the helo. You’d barely been given a few hours to prep before you were already getting shipped off to Chechnya where the team was then tasked with entering the country very illegally and covertly. In otherwords the whole thing was a shit show and a half and it was felt through the silent tension that thrummed in the air. 

Simon’s large muscled frame pressed lightly against your side, something you were increasingly aware of as the flight droned on. Heat emanating from his body and sinking into your skin. Pressed so closely, you could smell him before he was marred by sweat, dirt and blood, a rarity. He didn’t wear a nice cologne, smelling like simple soap and washing detergent, but it was nice nonetheless. It was nice because it was just so Simon. 

Exhausted already both physically and mentally, you quickly fall asleep to the lull of the whirring blades and warm pillow of muscle sitting to your left, head lolling to slump against his arm. Lost in your slumber as you are, you completely miss the way he tenses minutely at the sensation before quickly relaxing, shuffling just a little to ensure your maximum comfort. He spends far too long staring at your sleeping face, warm eyes committing every little detail to memory. It’s not until he reluctantly tears his gaze away from your peaceful visage that he sees Captain Price’s amused look, brow raised pointedly as he stares at his two subordinates. Not for the first time in his life Simon is thankful for the mask, leaving none of the pink blush marring his skin visible. 

The mission goes totally fubar almost immediately, because of course it does, the whole thing was fucked from the start. Somewhere in the back of the alarms whirring in your mind as you ran through the dense woodlands you recognise that maybe Kyle’s theory of foul play wasn’t so farfetched. 

Price is barking something over the gunfire that you don’t hear over the chaos and deafening ringing  in your ears, Johnny’s swearing over the comms as he switches between sniping and hightailing it down from overwatch to the exfil location. You’re half dragging, half carrying Kyle along as he mumbles deliriously, head slumped into the crook of your neck and left leg hanging nearly limply as you both blindly stumble. 

You’re fucked. You and Kyle are so unbelievably fucked it’s a little funny, and if it weren’t for the fact your lungs were burning and working overtime to expand and provide you with desperately needed oxygen you’d probably be laughing. 

You’re fucked. You’re probably going to die. You and Kyle, who’s useless without you, who’s relying on you to get him to safety. That’s the part that stings the most, that causes your lower lip to wobble traitorously and tears of panic to build in your lashline. Not the fact that you’ll die, forgotten and buried in a cover up orchestrated by your government, but the fact that you’ll take Kyle with you. Sweet, loyal, driven Kyle who wormed his way into your life and into your damn heart. Your confidante. The only person who knew how you really felt about… Simon. 

Simon Riley. The goddamned smug, cocky, bastard that had taken it a step further than the rest of your teammates when he smashed his way into your life. The man you eventually came to realise was nothing like the fear tinged rumours. Sure, the Ghost was scary and more than a little rough around the edges but Simon was kind, generous, gentle, funny, and looking back on it you suppose you’d been doomed from the start. 

You were going to die and he was all you could think about. Where was he? Was he hurt? Was he safe? What if he didn’t make it out? Would he die alone, bleeding out in the snow, not knowing that you loved him?

Moving on a cocktail of adrenaline, muscle memory and desperation you finally burst out of the treeline and towards the road where the exfil vehicles were already roaring to life. A quick head count has you sagging in relief despite the situation. Johnny. Price. Simon. They’re all waiting for you and Kyle, and though it’s impossible to gauge any injuries just yet, it seems that you and Kyle are the worst off by far. 

The relief abruptly leaves your body with a yelp as you take one step down the small hill towards the road only to immediately trip, legs giving way as you and subsequently Kyle fall forwards and tumble down through the slush. Between one blink and the next the shouting starts up again and you’re ceremoniously pulled up from the ground and tugged into a vehicle in a mess of confusion and limbs. 

When your vision finally focuses it’s to the sight of brown eyes crinkled with more concern than you’d ever seen surrounded by a signature skull mask. Trying to sit up, the world tilts precariously once more as a large hand pushes your sternum back down against the seats and a gravelly accent barks something at you. Any other time you’d be elated at the touch but right now you couldn’t even begin to think to appreciate it.

Simon’s yelling something that sounds vaguely like your name, as if trying to get your attention between whatever he’s screaming at who’s driving. Your head lolls to the side in an attempt to better gauge your surroundings but the movement does nothing but send your vision spinning, a sudden sharp burning pain radiating from near your collarbone. Clumsily one of your hands attempts to clutch the aching site, attempting to locate the problem. You end up missing in spectacular fashion, blinking in confusion at your sudden lack of motor skills until there’s a hand on your chin, tilting your face back up to look into uncharacteristically alarmed eyes. 

Simon’s other hand pushes down on your shoulder harshly and pain anew lights your nerves on fire as you scream, tears streaming down your cheeks as you thrash. All you achieve is further agitating your injuries and expending the very little adrenaline fuelled energy you still had. 

“-me. Look at me!” Your hearing suddenly kicks back just in time to hear the tinge of desperation in the Lieutenant’s voice, the black spots in your vision clearing just a little to allow you one last look into Simon’s eyes. Even when they’re wide with terror you can’t help but think how pretty his eyes are, the sentiment might even slip past your tingling lips though you can’t be sure as you abruptly lose the battle and your body shuts down into unconsciousness.  

It’s a steady, consistent beeping that your mind registers first, before your eyelids that feel like they’re weighed down with glue even open. Your lack of vision quickly becomes second on the list of priorities when you try to breathe, only to find yourself gagging and choking on an obtrusion in your throat. You struggle blindly for what feels like an eternity, panic mounting as you fight for oxygen and to get your leaden, useless limbs to cooperate. 

Suddenly hands are grabbing at you, firm voice speaking over the now rapid beeping of what’s probably the heart monitor. Your eyes burst open at the same instant the trachael tube is pulled out, leaving you to gasp and cough for air as a warm hand cups your cheek tenderly whilst helping you sit up. It takes a few more seconds for the blur in your vision to completely clear but when it does it’s to the visage of Simon’s soft brown eyes once again. 

He’s not wearing his mask, giving you the perfect view of his deep purple eye bags and greasy, dishevelled hair. “You look like shit,” your voice is a croaky rasp, throat like sandpaper and Simon’s handing you a styrofoam cup of water before you can even ask. You take small sips of the cool liquid, savouring the soothing nature. 

“Pot meet kettle” he grunted, slumping down into the far too small chair that had been pulled to your bedside. You watch in appreciate silence as he brings one arm up to rub the back of his neck, the muscles in his biceps flexing beneath the sleeve of his shirt. Though after a few more seconds of observation the corners of your lips dip into a frown, he seemed far too used to the room, almost as if he was used to it. Had he been watching over you? Waiting for you to wake up?

You don’t comment on it though, a sudden panic smacking you square in the chest as you sit up instinctively once more, ignoring the pain that shoots up the left side of your body once more as you suddenly remember, “Oh god Kyle-” 

“Garrick’s fine, already discharged. We’ve just been waiting for you to get your lazy ass up sleeping beauty.” You hate the way your traitorous heart skips a beat at his words, the monitor betraying your emotions and given the way Simon smirks at you it’s clear he noticed. 

Though the embarrassment is quickly flushed away by a second round of panic, “wait, what’s the date today? What happened? How long have I been out?” the questions fly out rapid fire. He answers all your questions calmly and with patience, not at all angry. You’d been shot, which certainly explained the fierce ache in your chest and arm even through whatever drugs they’d doped you up on. That made sense you supposed, but it was hardly as alarming as when the date registered in your mind. 

“Wait it’s the 26th?” devastation coloured your tone, “I missed Christmas?” It was such a silly, trivial thing to get upset over. You’d almost died, but that was nothing in the face of missing getting to celebrate with your team. Your lower lip starts to wobble dangerously before you can stop it as Simon’s eyes widen in alarm, standing so quickly the chair falls over with a clang that gets ignored as he hovers anxiously, taking your clenched hands in his own and rubbing calming circles over your pulse point in your wrist. 

“It’s ok lass, nobody’s upest with you. We’ll celebrate when you get discharged yeah?” Looking back on the memory you’ll laugh, but right now you’re too emotional to react logically. 

“S’not just that, I didn’t have time to get you a present! Everything was s’posed to be perfect and now it’s all ruined” you exclaim. The two of you must make quite the sight from an outsiders perspective, a near hysterical woman more upset over the prospect of missing Christmas than the fact she’d been shot and a hulking man in black hovering somehwat frantically in an attempt to soothe. 

“You waking up is the best present I could’ve asked for darlin’” he finally murmurs, so quietly that you almost don’t hear. His long, calloused fingers entwined with yours as he sat on the edge of the mattress, having finally disengaged the finnicky railing. 

“That doesn’t count” you weakly protest, once again cursing the heart monitor for giving away your internal struggle, “‘sides, Johnny and Kyle got three things.” Some of the humour has returned to the situation for Simon, and your pout only deepens when he smirks at you. 

“Did they now? You playing favourites?” You know he’s teasing but you still can’t help but squawk of indignation. “You’ll have to make it up to me,” he continues on, completely unphased even as you smack him on the arm like a child throwing a temper tantrum, “How bout a kiss? That should be enough yeah?” The heart monitor blares like thunder in the background in a way you’ll know will probably alarm the nurses but you can’t think about that. Can’t think about anything other than Simon. The baritone lilt of his voice that had trailed off as he dipped his head towards you, leaving enough of a gap for you to pull away if you wanted though the warmth of his breath still fans across your face. 

His lips are rough, chapped and the scruff of his unshaven face is uncomfortable against your skin but the kiss is perfect nonetheless. Even with the blaring monitor and the burning fire that consumes the left side of your body in agitation from your sudden movement you don’t pull back just yet. Both hands cupping his cheeks reverently as you all but threw yourself at him. Despite the pain and slight embarrassment, it’s perfect. 

When your lips part neither of you pull away, and Simon rests his forehead against your own as you hum contentedly, the both of you leaning desperately into each other’s touch. It’s not until you hear a whooping holler and a series of whistles that you both startle and jerk away from each other in alarm. Kyle’s clapping and jeering alongside Soap whilst your captain simply sighs in exasperation at the scene, though there’s amusement detectable in his smile. 

“And here I was thinking ye’d need this” Johnny grinned mischievoulsy, waving around what you quickly realise is a bushel of mistletoe, causing you to roll your eyes at his theatrics as Simon huffed. 

“Just cause you need an excuse to get kisses doen’t mean I do Johnny” Simon quips and it’s your turn to laugh at the blatant offense that covers the Scotsmans face. The four of you are then promptly made subject to unintelligible Scottish blathering as Simon presumably gets cussed out. Your laughter is briefly interrupted when you feel fingers entwine with yours and you briefly shoot Simon a look from the corner of your eye before you squeeze his hand, face beaming as you turn back to look at Soap. 

It may have been a day late, but as you sat surrounded by your team, with Simon by your side, thumb stroking circles over your wrist you had to admit that it was the best Christmas to date. 

Taglist: @ghostslillady @bunnyreaper @tokusho@ohworm-writes @kmi-02 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jumpofmyclif @tiredmetalenthusiast @Chibijustuff @cooliofango @101crows

#jules reblogs #secret santa #dont mind me actually crying over here #i love you so fuckin much kat #let me kiss you rn #simon riley is my man #kat mein sonnenschein

[juvenillia]

~ not so bad ~ John 'Soap' MacTavish x fem!reader [fluff/secret santa]

a/n: as some of you might know, @bunnyreaper did organise a secret santa, and she did so much for this lil project, and for me in general over the past weeks that I just wanted to write her a lil' thing myself. So this is my way to say thank you for everything to my favourite Sergeant. I love you🩶 (and yes I had to include myself somehow, I'm sorry)

wordcount: 1.5k

》Master Post《

It was too noisy. Literally too cheerful. Everyone's chatting, reddened cheeks from either the alcohol or from the bitter cold outside. The door swung open many times letting breezes of said cold cool the area for mere seconds. The small place was flooded by people. Cheesy Christmas songs were blasting through the speakers and everyone in that God damn pub screamed their lyrics at the top of their lungs. Everyone except you.

You were seated in one of the separate loungings, an already empty glass sitting in front of you. You didn't want to be here, but your friend literally dragged you out of your apartment. How could you even deny her that wish? It was a pub near the local military base, a pub she frequented for the past months very often and you knew there was only one reason: A guy, who she had mentioned a few times before and was completely smitten by.

So how could you decline when she literally begged you to go with her on Christmas eve? You were too curious to catch a glimpse of the man that stole your friend’s heart. Unfortunately, this curiosity now led you to sitting on a couch in that overfilled pub, while your friend was shamelessly flirting with said man. Of course, you were a bit annoyed because she left you all on yourself, but seeing her beaming with happiness made your heart melt again. You couldn’t stay mad at her for too long.

“It's Christmas, you can't stay at home for yourself, bun! And who knows, maybe there’s a Christmas miracle going to happen.” You recall the voice from your friend Florence as she literally talked you into joining her, and for the sunshine nature she was, you gave in. It wasn't as annoying as you imagined it, at least a good amount of alcohol was already running through your veins while watching one of your closest friends having the time of her life. But you couldn't help it and wished you stayed at home. Well she tried to pull you onto the dance floor a few times, tried to invite you in their circle introducing you to Simon, tried everything to keep you entertained, but you had no interest in it. You rather stayed seated here, a glass of your favorite drink in one hand and your eyes pinned onto your friend trying to push the ongoing fling to the next level, and of course making sure this Simon guy treated her properly.

“Nae a holiday person. Eh?” A husky voice caught your attention and a man took the place across from you, a glass of whiskey in his hand which was now settled on the table. He wore one of the ugliest Christmas sweaters you’ve ever seen, but the smile on his lips made up to it.

“You could say so.” Usually you wouldn't be interested in a conversation with a random guy that dared to infiltrate your space like him, spreading his legs out beneath the table and almost bumping his feet into yours. But something about this stranger caught your interest.

“Aye, tell me lass, Scrooge or Grinch?” He raised his brows in a teasing manner while leaning his ellbow onto the table and placing his head into his huge calloused palm. You couldn't help it and star at the scar at his chin before your eyes trailed upwards to this mischievous grin, further upwards to his crystal blue eyes. They held a glimpse of coquetry but also genius interest.

You couldn't suppress a sweet smile at his question, while your hand tried to cover it in a polite manner. The man in front of you was faster. Catching your hand before you could even hide your smile. “Dinnea that, hen. Yer laugh is bonnie.” The teasing tone in his voice was replaced with a sincere and honest intention.

“Both hated humans rather than Christmas.” Your own voice held a smug tone while your eyes were pinned on his. You haven't even noticed that he scooted closer, while still keeping your hand in his. “But both are close, though.”

He pulled your hand up to place a slight kiss onto your knuckles. You could've missed it by the way you were still mesmerized by his baby blues. “Hope ‘m nae one of those then.” His thumb brushed over the spot his lips just left. “‘m John, but friends call me Johnny.”

“Olivia, but friends call me bunny.” You could've sworn that there were way too many people in here, the room temperature got way too high by now. But in reality it was just the alcohol in your system. Definitely not the hot Scotsman next to you, who's thigh was now leaned against yours. You could witness your friend leaving the pub with the behemoth of a man from the side view of your eyes, but you couldn't care less. She Was old enough to decide what's best for her, and right now you decided it was best for you to ignore it. Keeping all of your focus on the charming man.

“Mind if I call ye bonnie instead?” He leaned a bit further into the couch while he eyed you up from top to bottom, well as much as the table allowed him to. As a response you just nodded your head, not able to respond to him properly. Eventually, the heat on your cheeks wasn't from the alcohol nor from the crowded place. Maybe it was indeed because of Johnny. His hand stroked a strain of curly hair behind your ear. “Let me buy ye another drink, bonnie.” It wasn't a request as before, he was already on his way to the bar to get you the same drink as before again. So you decided to follow him through the crowd, not minding anyone that bumped into you. You just wanted to stay close to him, what he immediately noticed. One of the biggest grin you've seen him wore on his lips. “Missin’ me already lass, eh?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows.” You teased him while taking the glass out of his hands and bringing it to your lips. Maybe Florence was right, maybe it wasn't that bad to go out tonight.

“I see.” He smiled while taking some sips from his drink. He averted his eyes from your figure for a blink of an eye, catching something of his interest. If you thought his grin couldn't turn more smug, you were damn wrong. He placed the glass onto the wooden counter, and used his free hand to pull you closer to him by your waist.

You shrieked out of the sudden impact and your hands found his chest, leaning flush against the tight muscles. You could literally feel him flex beneath your touch, even through the wool of the sweater. “What the…” You couldn't even end your sentence as his other hand pointed just to the spot above your heads. Your eyes followed his index fingers to the little mistletoe above, and the realization hit you right now. His hand moved to cup your cheek while he bent himself over to close the slight gap that was left. Brushing his lips over yours just so gently and polite, it didn't feel like any of the kisses you had experienced so far.

After some time - way to short amount for your liking - you parted again, hands still staying at their previous places. “Christmas traditions…” He placed another quick peck onto the crown of your head. “Nae so bad after all, eh?” His smile grew into a big grin, something you wanted to see even more often.

You heard another familiar voice before you could even respond to Johnny. “Fuckin hell. We missed it, Si.” It was your friend who just walked back into the pub, a beefy arm slung over her shoulder while both approached you.

“Wait…What did you miss?” You blinked in confusion at your friend, who only laughed.

“Your Christmas miracle, silly bun.” She laughed while intervening her finger with his.

That was the second time you realized something tonight. It hit you like a ton of bricks and your brows furrowed. “You fuckin’ minx.” You tried to keep a scolding tone, but you couldn't suppress the happiness in your voice.

“Better say thank you.” She teased, while Simon placed his chin onto her head.

“We should leave them alone, love.” He placed a soft kiss onto her head, while closing his eyes and she nodded.

“Alright.” Johnny picked you up in one motion and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing, which forced a scream out of your throat. Laughing was the only thing you were surrounded by as your cheeks completely turned red. “Yer comin’ hame with me, bonnie.”

“Treat ma girl right, Johnny!” She yelled after the Scot while he already carried you outside.

And it really shouldn't be a secret that he indeed treated you right. From this day on, it became a cheesy tradition to spend the Christmas eve in that specific pub. Johnny at your side, one of his hands always on you, while he kept bragging to Simon about something that happened on the last mission which made Florence laugh way too hard. From this day on, Christmas was not so bad anymore.

#john soap mactavish x reader #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x reader #task force 141 #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #simon riley #secret santa #call of duty x reader #soap call of duty #call of duty fluff #soap fluff #call of duty

[juvenillia]

~ habits ~ König x fem!reader [fluff/secret santa]

a/n: @bunnyreaper did organise a secret santa, and I had the big honour to write for @piecesofcain and one of the options I could choose from was König, so ofc I had to! Christmas in Germany can be so freakin beautiful!!! Alright, I hope you like it angel. 🩶

[Also this will be like my slow come back to writing! Things are figured out, and I'm back at working on my stories. Stay tuned chums]

wordcount: 2.4k

》Master Post《

A repeating tapping of a heavy boot. A bobbing knee, which his huge sweaty hand tried to force into halt again. He was used to life-or-death situations. Calculating everything in the back of his head to make it out alive and achieve the desired outcome. Nervous was never a word you would think of when looking at the behemoth of a man König was. Maybe respected or even feared, but definitely not as anxious as he felt right now. He was deployed in Berlin for more than three months now. Working together with the KSK. Nothing he wasn’t used to. Nothing that would leave him sleepless. Still, he didn’t find much sleep for the last three days. Three days ago, was the day when you made the decision to fly over to Germany to visit him.

You had a phone call, rambling about your day when he nearly fell asleep because of the difference in time zones. He loved to stay awake listening to your voice anyway. It quickly became a habit for him. It felt like your voice was stuck in his life forever. Maybe it was simply because he believed his life just really started with the day he met you. Your voice was the needed comfort after a stressful day for him. A comfort that lulled him deeper into a slumber, imagining you would be by his side. Only your recent question brought him back to reality.

“Entschuldige. What were you saying?” [Excuse me] A yawn followed the thick German accent as he rubbed his forehead. His phone rested on his brawn chest.

“Silly.” You laughed while repositioning the laptop in front of you. The screen showed a website with different flight options. “I asked you, if you’d like me to come over for your days off.” It was a genuine question, eventually a bit shyer than the first time you asked him.

Suddenly, he was broad awake. Sitting up in his bed, the phone slid off his chest. He barely could catch it before it would’ve fallen to the floor. “Let me buy you the ticket.” All exhaustion in his voice was replaced with determination.

“Kö…”

“Not negotiable, Engel.” [angel] No sooner said than done, the plane tickets were bought.

A decision that led him to the Berlin airport, waiting for your arrival. A single rose resting on the seat next to him. Why was he so nervous when a good friend came over? Simple: Because you were already so much more to him. The two of you often spent the holidays together, when his job allowed it of course. Just two good friends sharing some quality time, but this time felt different. König had made up his mind some time ago. A night when he was sure not to see the rising sun again, and everything that clung to his mind was your smile. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of returning to you. He knew back then that he was screwed, too scared to risk the friendship you shared. He wanted to keep everything normal between both of you. Not sure how he’d manage, but he would try his best.

Just a few more minutes passed and then you walked along the corridor, wearing the mesmerizing smile he loved so much. Suitcase in one of your hands and the other already reaching out to him, while he pulled you in a tight hug. Bending down to embrace you fully, while you let go of your suitcase to do the same. He inhaled your scent as he buried his masked face into your hair. It was like all the anxiety had left his body. “Du hast mir echt gefehlt.”

“König.” You laughed while pulling away, searching for his crystal blue eyes. Eventually you found his habit of switching back to his mother tongue cute, even if you often had troubles understanding him.

“Sorry.” He squeezed your shoulders before redrawing his hand to massage his nape. “I’ve missed you… a lot." You could notice the smile, even when half of his face was covered by a black cotton mask he wore often when both of you were out. Before you could say something else, he held the flower up in front of you for you to take. No words, just a small gesture while he averted his eyes from yours.

“There was no need to.” You took the rose out of his hand, your fingers brushing amongst his for the blink of an eye. “Thank you.” Your tone became a bit shyer, while your cheeks were stained in a slight rose. Something he missed as the floor became so much more interesting. There was never a need to be honest, but he still managed to give you little things. Just little gifts to show how much he cared.

Without hesitation he took your suitcase and held out his arm for you to take. A polite gesture, something that became a habit whenever you two walked somewhere. He would lead you to wherever needed while you wrapped your hand around his beefy upper arm. He always needed to slow his steps to match your pace. This time he led you to his car. Holding the passenger door open for you to take your seat. Just then he stored your luggage in the trunk and took his own seat.

“Where are you taking me?” It took you some time before you asked him. Your eyes taking in the different views of Berlin’s streets. It was your first time being here, so literally everything seemed to catch your interest. König made sure to take a longer route to your place of destination. Driving past the Tempelhofer Feld which looked so out of place. Nothing but huge snowy fields in the middle of the city. Making sure to take an extra turn in the roundabout by the Siegessäule. Leading you all the way back to Alexanderplatz. The whole city was covered in adorable lights, little Christmas Trees and lanterns. But in his opinion none of their lights could compete with the shining in your eyes. He told you more or less stupid facts about the places you drove past till he parked the car in one of the underground garages near the huge shopping center called Alexa, which was completely flooded in decorations and humans running the last errands for the holidays.

A shopping center you tried to fight your way out. It was way too crowded, and made you feel kind of anxious. Your hand clinging tight onto his upper arm while he led you through the mass of people. To his advantage he could overlook most of the customers around. He slid his arm around your shoulder to keep you closer to him. Granting you a feeling of safety. “Just a little while longer, mein Engel, just a little bit,” he said calmly, hoping his voice and touch could bring you the same comfort as you brought him all the time, while leading you out of the center and onto a bigger place. The space itself was covered in little wooden booths where you could buy many different kinds of food, drinks or little presents. It was one of the various Christmas markets which are dispersed all over the city.

Even if you could easily breath and most people granted you some space for yourself out here, you were still tugged into his side. Not daring to let go, until you stood in front of a huge field of ice. It was formed like a ring, and in the middle was a water fontaine - the Neptunbrunnen - decorated in some cozy lights. The air was filled with laughter and screams by children sliding over the icey floor. “Engel, you mentioned some time ago that you’d like to go ice skating.” He patted your head slightly, while adjusting the cotton cap you wore. “And how nobody would join..so I thought…”

Without waiting for him to finish and without hesitation you wrapped your arms around him. “Kö, I love you.”

He also wrapped his arms around you, while his heart felt heavy, still, you could feel the vibrations of his chest as some chuckles left his throat. He had heard those words millions of times. Something that was such a routine, while he knew how you meant it, he would love to hear it with different intentions. “Ich hab dich auch lieb.” [I love you too.(used for friends)]

Within the next twenty minutes you were on the ice, skates laced onto your feet while holding König’s hands to help stabilize himself. He may be an ace when it comes to rescuing hostages and invading enemy terrain, but standing on the thin metal beneath his huge feet, it was difficult for him. But you couldn’t help it and find it really adorable. Little children were faster on the ice than him. But you didn’t mind. Any minute you spent with him was just pure entertainment. After some time, when he finally grew more confident on the skates, he told you to take some rounds on your own. Just so you could fully enjoy it, while he made little steps to even fulfil one round on the rink.

The next thing you could remember was a bit blurry. The white floor stained red. You just assumed that he fell. As someone explained later to you, there were some careless kids, they didn’t take notice of the nearly two meter man lying on the cold floor. Unfortunately they literally ran over him, the skid running a deep wound through his jacket and into the flesh of his arm. You were freaking out, yelling at the kids while there were already two people helping him up and taking care of him, calling an ambulance. Better safe than sorry, they told him as he declined the offer. It really wasn’t a big deal for König, but for you.

The whole thing led to the two of you sitting in the emergency room, where a nurse took care of the injury. Just a few stitches and everything was fine. Well, not for you. As you walked into the hotel room he booked for you, you still kept ranting about those brats that hurt him. That hurt your König. He couldn’t do anything but laugh about your rambling. “You’re adorable like that.” The words slipped faster out of his mouth than he could’ve blinked. Sitting at the edge of your bed, mask long forgotten and staring once more at the floor. There weren't many things that would make the Austrian nervous, but knowing to say something inappropriate for the sake of your friendship indeed did make him nervous. Maybe even more as you didn’t answer the man now searching for your eyes. You stood in front of him, even in this position you barely were on eye level due to his height.

His eyes kept scanning your face, every twitching of your brows or blinking of your eyes. He observed it before he exhaled deeply. Took your hands in his to pull you a bit closer. You let him do so, still not saying anything. Too curious what was happening in his head.

“Ich liebe dich.” He looked directly in your eyes while keeping a stern face. Unsure of what he was doing.

You just nodded while turning your head away now. “Yeah… love you too.” It was the usual answer, something so casual for you to say. An old habit.

“Nein, mein Engel.” [No, my angel.] He shook his head and brushed his thumbs over your knuckles, before pulling them up to his mouth to place a slight kiss onto them. “Hab dich lieb and Ich liebe dich, those are two different things." His eyes held a bit of fear, but also so much adoration as his hands couldn’t let go of yours.

His words made something click inside your head. This wasn’t like the empty phrase he used so often. Not like the words you used to say. It wasn’t by habit. It was a confession, something you could have missed easily, if it wasn't for him to clarify it right here. Besides all the promises he made to himself, to keep it on the casual and friendly bases you had, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He wanted to be honest with you. He never wanted to lie to you. Those words often died on his tongue before, but not this time.

Your lips parted while one of his hands reached out to cup your cheek and your throat ran dry. “You mean it?” It was nearly pathetic asking for reassurance, but he got it. Pulling you once more closer to him, his nose touched yours now. Your noses brushing amongst each other as he slowly nodded. So you took the initiative and closed the last gap separating both of you. Placing your lips gently onto his while closing your eyes. His hands let go of yours, to take hold onto your waist while pulling you impossible closer. You nearly tripped over, but your hands found his shoulders to gain a bit of stability while the kiss grew deeper. Neither of you wanted to let go first, but the air escaping your lungs let you pull away sooner or later.

With a raising and falling chest you looked into each other's eyes and a smile tugged at his lips. “This becoming our new habit?” you teased him with the same genuine smile.

“Ich hoffe doch.” [I hope so] With those words he threw himself onto his back, pulling you immediately on top of him and wrapping his arms around your figure, listening to your little giggles in doing so.

“Kö, your wound!” You scolded him, but he didn't care, not when he finally could fall asleep the way he always wanted to. You tugged onto his chest, beefy arms keeping you close to him while you could listen to his heartbeat, which slowed more and more after the confession.

The whole situation led you to spending most of the days of this year’s holidays in the cozy hotel room, taking good care of the wound that would now become a scar. An addition to the ones he already had, but this one would always hold a special meaning to him. Reminding him on the day you became fully his.

#konig x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig x you #konig cod #konig call of duty #secret santa #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #cod mw2 #kortac #könig fluff

[juvenillia]

Real life sucks atm. Many things are happening, and I just don't find the time to write properly.

Sorry to the two anons. Please know I saw your requests, and I love it, and I am working on them!

I have like a few brainrots sitting in my docs, two new chapters waiting for editing, and two started one shots.

I just hope that during the upcoming week, things gonna get easier, and I'll be able to post regularly again. I miss writing a lot...

But hey, also good news, I'm going to see one of the bands, which is one of my greatest inspirations for writing live tomorrow. Sleep Token🩶

#jules tea talk #jules speaks #service tweet #i cant wait to see sleep token #story update

[juvenillia]

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘

𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝖕𝖙 5 — 𝖕𝖙 4 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

wc - 7.6k

warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom/sub dynamic, petplay (as always), thigh reading, pussy eating, johnny gives reader a piggyback ride.

notes - it's here! and my life and health is worse for it, but it's here! please don't expect the next part any time soon, but thank you to those patiently waiting ♥ also on ao3! ♥

"Told you, pet, this mouth is mine now."

Johnny's mouth continues its loving assault on yours, overwhelming you with his kisses. It's filled with the same passion as the first time, but now Johnny's heat seeps straight from his bones and into you. 

His hands fall to your wrists, his touch warm and caressing and pinning you ever so slightly in place—just enough to keep you still, not enough to really restrict you. 

It's Johnny who pulls away from you, an exhaled fuck falling from his lips—your eyes flutter open to meet his, the baby blues flooded with lust. 

His gaze flickers to your lips before he whispers. "I dinnae want to stop kissing ye." 

He steals your breath with both the words and the feeling of his lips when they return to yours, each slide against you as if he's stealing them, afraid he won't get another for too long. Though with Johnny, you get the feeling any second your lips aren't connected to his are ones he wishes for nothing else. 

"Yeah, fuck..." You sigh as Johnny pulls away, his grip loosening as his forehead settles against yours. 

Neither of you can fight the smiles on your faces, as you both bask in each other's joy, and the rush of endorphins and arousal running through you. 

Johnny always makes you feel electric.

He laughs breathlessly, eyes sparkling with mirth as you can see him try to restrain himself. "'Spose I should let ye get settled first before I ravage ye." 

"I have no complaints if you don't." You giggle in return, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before willing yourself to pull away too. "But yeah, probably a good idea."

If both of you had less self-control, you had no doubts the tension could have pushed you into rutting in the entryway like rabid dogs, only managing to bare yourselves just enough to have Johnny sink inside you. From the look in his eyes and the feeling of his hardness pressed against you, he wants to take you here and now—but he's nothing if not a gentleman. 

You have no doubt that your own glassy eyes and soaked panties betray your need just the same, and there's a desperate, animalistic part of your brain that wants to drag him inside by the belt so that you can fall to your knees before him. 

Johnny straightens himself up, taking ahold of your hand and preparing to head into the flat proper. "Want the tour of the place?" 

You nod eagerly. "Of course." 

You pull your hand free for just a moment to abandon your shoes by the door-—leaving them amongst the existing pile of boots, which Johnny only adds to with his own.

With your hands reconnected and fingers intertwined, he guides you into the warmth of the flat. 

"I mean, the place is tiny, so it won't take long." He jokes, as he pulls you in further and throws his keys on the countertop. "Tada, living room and kitchen all in one." 

You take in the open space around you—the room flooded with moonlight and a faint glow from under the kitchen cupboards, as well as a lamp that's lit in the corner. The ceilings are high, and the floors are wooden—the kitchen and living room combined to create a large, albeit cosy room.

"Nice and spacious! I like that it's open plan." You coo, as Johnny paces forward, and you allow him to guide you. Your eyes rove over everything, from the well-worn couch to the framed photos of him and his squad, or the pictures of wild-eyed kids that can only be Johnny's nieces and nephews. 

"Aye. Can have ye curled up on the couch while am cooking, terribly, mind ye." Johnny nudges you playfully with his hip, drawing your attention back to the radiant smile on his face.

You follow him down a small corridor with doors on both sides. The door to the left opens into a bathroom with a large, walk-in, waterfall shower, illuminated with soft lighting when Johnny flicks the switch.

"Bathroom, with no bath." He explains, before his expression flickers to something briefly resembling a kicked puppy. "Bit sad about tha'." 

"Are you a bath man?" You ask, your mind visualising the muscular man indulging in rich aromas and piles of bubbles—it serves as quite the entertaining mental image. And then your mind flickers to him in the shower, water cascading down his toned body, knots in his shoulders just begging for relaxation...

"Absolutely. And if yer not into baths, I think I know just the way to convert ye." His hand squeezes yours playfully as he throws you a wink, and you're left wondering if he could somehow sense that your thoughts have turned dirty.

"I like the sound of that." 

Finally, you cross the hallway into the bedroom—a room filled with a mixture of earth tones and navy blues, the place is clean and tidy, beside the pile of clothes and various other things piled onto the chair in the corner. 

"And where we'll be staying, unless you'd prefer I sleep on the couch." 

You don't miss the sheepish look on his face, the look that tells you that sleeping apart from you is the last thing he'd rather do tonight—but you know that he'd do it in a heartbeat if you asked. 

Stepping closer into his space, you lace your other hand in his and sway them back and forth, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I will be falling asleep on your chest. That's non-negotiable, Johnny." 

"I'm glad tae hear." He pushes himself forward to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment after. "Can be ma little blanket for the night." 

"... But aye, that's about it." He gestures to the room with one of your intertwined hands.

"It's cosy here, I like it." You comment with a smile, taking in the welcoming atmosphere of the room—the hints that the place is lived in. 

Johnny comments as he moves closer to your ear—his breath warm as it flutters over your skin. "Hopefully, the first visit of many." 

"I hope so too. I'll be leaving my toothbrush here before you know it." 

You pull yourself from Johnny's hold, falling back onto the mattress and allowing your dress to ride up your legs as you prop yourself up on your elbows and stare at Johnny temptingly.

Your eyes trail over his body, savouring every delicious inch that is John MacTavish. His eyes chart a similar path, following up your exposed thighs. 

"Anyway, I think I'm all settled in now." You purr, trying to coax him back into kissing you like he was earlier. 

"Steamin' jesus." He all but growls as he comes closer, crawling over you and leaning down near to your lips as his arms cage you in. "Someone's a needy pup." 

With his face hovering inches from yours, you relish the opportunity to drink him all in. His baby blues sparkle with lust and fondness as they peer down at you, slightly hidden behind hooded lids. His eyelashes flutter so prettily, bouncing off his sweet, stubbled cheeks. 

Your eyes fall to his soft lips, the scar underlining them that you want to trace your thumb and tongue across—learn the story of. 

"Kiss me again, Johnny, please." You whisper softly, as one of his hands begins to stroke the top of your head. 

"Askin' so nicely, how can I say no?" He smirks one last time before closing the gap, both of your eyes fluttering shut as your lips finally reconnect. 

There's never a moment when Johnny's lips don't feel heavenly—he kisses you like a man starved and allows his hips to falter and press against your core. His clothed erection rubs against your centre, the denim pushing across your thin panties and sending your brain spinning. 

It's instinct when you buck your hips up into his, chasing more contact from his throbbing length. The more time you spend around Johnny, the more intoxicated you become on his presence—your hesitations melt away, replaced by an overwhelming need that's only sated when Johnny is pressed against you. 

The moan that leaves your throat is entirely accidental, but causes Johnny to buck against you and groan right back at you—after the moment of slipped control, he stills.  

"Bonnie..." Johnny pulls away, a soft, hesitant look in his eyes as he tries his hardest to hold back. "I meant what I said about not expecting anything." 

For a moment, you feel awful, like a temptress pushing him to the limits of his self-restraint—but your own desires swirl inside you dangerously, with every moment with Johnny only adding fuel to the fire. 

The fact Johnny can want you so passionately and still remain firmly in charge of the both of you only reinforces the disgustingly puppylike crush you have on him.

"I know. I'm just enjoying kissing you properly." You sigh before taking a deep breath to release some of your pent-up arousal. 

"Aye, me too." He continues to stroke at the top of your head as his thumb brushes across your warm cheek, making you shiver. "Hard to keep ma hands to myself." 

"Yeah, tell me about it." Your hands rake down his chest, slowing once you feel the hardness of his abs beneath the cotton.

Johnny's hand falls to clutch your wrists, stilling your exploration of his body. The look in his eyes is all cheek and charm. "I should get you fed." 

"Boo."

The look turns ever so slightly warning. "Pup, Johnny knows best, aye?" 

"To the kitchen!" You announce cheerfully, breaking through the tension of the moment and redirecting the both of you before you end up wrapping your legs around Johnny and refusing to let go until he's spilled himself inside you.

With a breathy laugh, Johnny stands from the bed, turning around and offering his back for you to climb upon. When he finally has you safely stowed on him, his fingers gripping at your thighs as your arms wrap around his neck, he carries you to the kitchen.

Johnny doesn't let you back down to the floor immediately, instead heading to the fridge with you still clinging to him like a koala.

"Probably should've asked ye what toppings you wanted, but I just grabbed a bit of everything." He explains as he opens the door and reveals a shelf bursting with cheeses, vegetables, and meats. 

You quickly scan the shelf for any nasty surprises like the anchovies or olives Johnny had mentioned on the way over, and find yourself relieved that everything on offer is delicious—with some of your favourite pizza toppings even there. "So much choice, and nothing disgusting, I'm surprised, Johnny." 

"Hey now, I do have taste... sometimes." The pout in his voice is evident as he shuffles you further up his back before removing the hold of one of his hands to start removing the dough, sauce, and toppings so he can set them atop the counter. 

Your eyes fall to the rest of the shelves, with the vast majority of them being stacked with the same plastic poultry liners. "Johnny, your fridge is 90% plain chicken breast, I'm not sure that I trust that." 

"Well, actually, some of that is turkey." He smirks, until you lean forward into his sight-line with a grumpy look on your face. "Dinnae go glaring at me, bonnie girl." 

"Clearly I need to be fed so I have less of an attitude." You huff, playfully teasing him about his earlier interruption to your fun.

Johnny finally lowers you to the ground, setting you beside him before he grabs the final few ingredients. "I'm working on it!"

With everything ready and set out, you start to plan out the deliciousness that will be your creation. Everything Johnny picked out is fresh and delicious, and almost calling out to you to be a part of your meal. You rush to wash your hands so you can get started. 

"I feel like I'm gonna pick too many toppings and my pizza will just be a mess." You explain as you start to open a few packets while Johnny moves to the sink. "What are you having?" 

"Lil bit of everything, why no'?" He shrugs, the smile on his face wide and infectious.

"I'm so excited!" You giggle, already thoroughly enjoying your little pizza party with Johnny. As you watch Johnny dry his hands and then begin to work the dough, a mischievous thought pops into your head. "It's a shame we didn't make the dough from scratch, though." 

As soon as Johnny looks at you, he knows exactly where your thoughts have headed, and his face splits with an amused grin. "So ye could throw flour at me?"

"Flour fight, exactly." You nod. 

Johnny sets down the dough, moving into your space and grabbing you by the hips to spin you to face him. He looms over you— grin now devilish, eyes sharp and tone teasing. "I'd win, hen, dinnae think otherwise." 

You bite your lip, staring up at Johnny and shivering under his touch. "Hmm, you'd be covered in flour and looking so good, so I think I'd really be the winner."

"Next time, then." He purrs as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. He pulls away after a few moments, yet lingers in your space and sends heat rushing through your veins.

"I suppose I could still smear sauce all over you." You tease, your arousal making you even more daring and flirtatious.

"Just askin' fer trouble with tha'." He growls, pulling you flush against his body as he pulls his lip between his teeth.

"Oh no... how terrible." 

One hand moves in a flash, slapping lightly and groping at your ass as Johnny rubs himself against you. "Ye won't be saying that when yer arse is red raw." He groans in your ear. 

"You wouldn't be spanking me when I'm too busy licking the sauce off your face." You giggle, squirming under his touch. Brattiness isn't your usual go-to around Johnny, but sometimes he just inspires it.

"Dirty fuckin' pup." He growls, his voice almost feral and animalistic in the way it rips from his throat.

He holds your gaze, commanding you with just a look as he removes his hands and leans to the counter. He returns with the jar, popping open the lid with ease before offering it to you. 

"Go awn then." He commands, his expression serious as he urges the jar closer to you. 

You glance between him and the jar, uncertain of what he's asking for a moment before the realisation hits—he's making you cover him in the sauce.  

The moment stretches on in the heavy silence, as Johnny stares you down with an expectant look, waiting for you to comply. You timidly dip your finger into the sauce, hand trembling as you move to swipe it across Johnny's cheek. You assume he's going to messily return the favour, but he just continues to hold your gaze. 

"Now lick it." He whispers, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

You can't help but comply, pushing yourself up close to his face and darting out your tongue just enough to clean his stubbled cheek. 

It's then he grips you again, stilling you in place as you're draped across his body. "Good fucking girl." He purrs, and then returns the favour—gripping your cheek with one hand and smearing your face with sauce with the other. 

Then he licks you, long tongue trailing slowly up your cheek and leaving you wet and squirming. 

"Johnny, ew!" You giggle wildly, almost feeling tickled by his tongue against your skin. 

"Ew? Really, lass? Won't be saying tha' later when it's my tongue in yer cunt." He makes sure his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he continues to tease you with his words. "Won't be sayin' tha' later when I have ye slobbering all over my cock."

He punctuates the last sentence by pulling you tight against him once more, making you feel the weight of his throbbing cock against you. You find your self-control rapidly slipping once more, especially when his lips dip to press kisses to the bare expense of your neck.

"Mercy, please." You squeal, attempting to wiggle free from his hold. "Otherwise, we might have to abandon the pizzas."

Luckily, Johnny is feeling kind as he pulls away and gives you space—yet the glint in his eye remains. 

"Mercy, for now."

You and Johnny try your best to focus on making the pizzas without further incident—listening to early 2000s pop punk and exchanging little bits and pieces of conversation. He informs you that his Captain's house is more in the countryside and has a proper brick pizza oven in the garden that gets used precisely once a year when he throws a birthday party for Gaz.  

It makes you chuckle how Johnny seems to enthuse about how much better the pizzas are when they aren't made in his "shitty little electric oven". It also makes your heart swell when Johnny mentions how Gaz's birthday is just around the corner, and that you have to come with him to the party. 

When Johnny pulls your pizzas from the oven, you're surprised to see they both managed to cook well despite the pile of toppings and cheese.

The two of you eat your gooey pizzas as you curl up on the couch and watch an episode of Midsomer Murders. Admittedly, you'd been sceptical at first, and a little confused as to why a man in his late 20s was so into a show you watched growing up with your aunt. Then you heard his enthusiasm for solving the cases, and couldn't bring yourself to care about the slightly amateurish acting or the way the theme tune reminded you of the smell of her house. 

When you realise halfway through that you're pretty sure Johnny's guesswork about the case is wrong, you feel your puppy love grow at least ten sizes, and say nothing as you watch the misguided enthusiasm and smugness sparkle in his eyes.

After a second episode finishes, you ready yourself to head back to the kitchen with the plates but find yourself stilled as Johnny grabs your wrist.

"Do you not want help with the dishes?" You ask, head tilted slightly in confusion.

"Maybe later." Johnny pulls you back down onto the couch before fixing you with a look that makes your cheeks flush. His hand finds its way to your face, cupping your burning skin as his thumb traces over your lips with intent.

"Oh, later, I see." You can't help but smile, and Johnny's thumb chases the newfound curve of your lips. 

A lustful fire ignites in the pit of your stomach as you watch Johnny's eyes fixate on your lips, and you notice his pupils are blooming with arousal. 

It's instinctual and automatic, the way you feel your body call out to connect with Johnny's once more, and you give in to the magnetic pull as you climb into his lap and settle atop him. Your hands curl around the thick column of the back of his neck, steadying yourself as you squirm around to get comfortable.

Johnny's large hands cling to your hips—a warning grip stilling you as his cock stirs to life underneath your core and pushes harsh denim against the soft cotton of your panties. 

"Bonnie." The word is growled, yet wrapped in playfulness, as his eyes flare with warning and his fingers continue to dig into the plush of your hips.

"Yes?" You coo innocently. 

"Careful now." 

"I just want to kiss you." You whine, while resisting the urge to grind down on Johnny's length. Instead, your lips fall to kiss his stubbled jaw, and the protruding veins on the side of his neck. "Can't get enough of you." 

Your own words break the dam of your self-restraint, as you give in to your urges and chase the bolts of pleasure that course through you, nudging your clit back and forth against the cock you crave so badly. 

"Neither can I." He whispers brusquely, the words sounding throatier as you continue to kiss him and writhe against him. His hands guide your hips along your path, each thrust earning you a growl from deep within his chest. "Ye drive me mad, steamin' fuckin' jesus." 

Your hips continue to writhe on instinct, addicted to the feeling of rocking on Johnny's bulge and the way the sensation ebbs at consciousness and makes your brain cottony around the edges. You nuzzle into Johnny's neck, seeking comfort and closeness as you continue to slip deeper and deeper.

"Johnny, I'm going crazy, I need you." Your words are whined against his skin, desperate pleas appealing to his baser instincts, practically begging him to just give in and take you already. The impulsive voice in the back of your head chants his name over and over again, as it always does. 

This time it's stronger, overwhelmingly so, as you're wrapped in his arms and able to melt into his touch. 

"Ya have me, pet." He whispers—holding you close, nuzzling you back, and pressing the gentlest of kisses to the top of your head. "'m all yours." 

Johnny continues working his hips up into your core, meeting you thrust for thrust and grind for grind. The sensation of your bodies meeting draws groans from his throat, each erratic connection making you both tremble.

Your eyes meet, an intense connection as Johnny's eyes search yours—him seeming to read every little flicker of emotion within them. Whatever he sees there spurs him into action, as he repositions his grip and redirects you—widening his legs before he pushes you down against his thick, denim-clad thigh.

"Tha's better." He sighs, immediately moving your hips again for you, rubbing your pussy across his muscle and giving you much-needed contact.

You find your rhythm quickly, working with Johnny to build delicious friction—the heightened sensations and connection have you overly sensitive, your blood fizzing all over your body just at being able to grind against Johnny. You know he's going to ruin you when things really start to escalate. You also know you're not going to last long at all.

"Humping my thigh like a good pup." Johnny groans as he buries himself into the crook of your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your skin—you tilt your head to accommodate him getting access to wherever his mouth pleases. 

"Gonna leave a wet spot." You feel the way your wet panties are clinging to your folds and know some of your arousal is leaking through to the denim beneath. 

Johnny growls, his thigh pushing up to meet you more firmly, as if begging to be soiled further. "Go awn, soak ma jeans." 

"Johnny..." 

"Sound so pretty whinin' fer me, whimperin'." He purrs straight into your ear, making your back arch as your skin tingles all over. "Gonna bark for me?" 

You quickly shake your head before hiding in Johnny's chest, cheeks ablaze. "'m shy." You whisper, hoping said reservedness won't disappoint him. 

One of Johnny's hands makes its way up your body, stopping to stroke the top of your head soothingly. "It's okay, pup, it'll come." He reassures you, not let down in the slightest. "Jus' keep grinding."

Your hips move with renewed fervour, chasing the rapidly building high that twists and coils in your stomach. Pleasure radiates out from your core, flowing through your veins and clouding your brain—refocusing yourself entirely on being good for Johnny.

"Feels good?" Johnny asks in response to your escalating whines and moans. "Use yer words for me."

Words are hard to form when your throat is so tightened and your mind so blissed out, but you have to obey. Each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge, closer to your reward. The tension between you and Johnny has been building for so long, with your need rapidly spiralling from the moment the two of you first started talking.

You need the release, need to cum under Johnny's touch and command—finally let him into your mind where his commands will make their home. As your thighs tremble around Johnny's, you force yourself to summon the strength to lift your head, to use your words just like Johnny had asked. 

"Feels good, so close." You admit, voice not above a whisper as you get hypnotised by the sparkling blue eyes that are hidden by hooded lids. 

Johnny is looking at you like he's going to devour you, and all you've done so far is rub your slick cunt all over his thigh. You shiver with the thought of just how much more intensity can build between you—you wonder how you're going to survive it.  

"Needy pup, want ye tae cum fer me. Jus' fer me." One of Johnny's hands now cups your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes locked onto his as you continue to writhe wildly against him.

His words push you so much closer, your brain waiting for his word as you try your hardest to not cum even a second before he tells you too. 

"Can ye do that, pet?" 

You nod mindlessly as your body goes into overdrive, the pressure making your body coil tighter as your brain finally fizzles out of any coherent thought. All you can do is keep your eyes fixed on Johnny, as you replay his words over and over in your head. 

Pet. Pup. Hump. Whine. 

Operating entirely on instinct, your mouth falls open, tongue lolling out as you pant and whine—right on the edge, waiting. As if in your thoughts, Johnny senses that you're right at the edge, as his thigh tenses to be the perfect surface for you to rub against, and his hand forces your cunt down even more snugly before. 

"Pretty pup, tha's it." He coos, voice dripping with sweet, gentle authority. "Cum fer me."

With his command finally whispered, you buck one more and fly over the edge, straight into the ecstasy of a blinding orgasm—one that's weeks in the making. 

Johnny continues to coax you through it, whispered praise and encouragement accompanying every little aftershock until you practically collapse against his chest. 

"Oh my god, that was..." You struggle to breathe, still struggle to think as you sink into Johnny's embrace. "I needed that, thank you."

Soft touches adorn every inch of your body, Johnny petting you sweetly and embracing the sensitivity of your skin in the afterglow. "My pleasure. Ye were such a good girl fer me." 

"Sorry about your jeans. And you not—"

Johnny doesn't let you finish your unnecessary apologies. "Dinnae be." 

He pulls you even closer, arms wrapping around your waist and back and holding you in a tight, reassuring embrace as the both of you come back down to normalcy. You can practically feel the smile on Johnny's lips with every kiss against your forehead, and his unbridled joy is still radiating off of him when you finally lean up to reconnect your lips with his. 

After a few sweet pecks, you find yourself burrowing back into his chest as you try to suppress a yawn. 

"Tired, bonnie?" Johnny asks, voice quiet. 

You respond simply with a gentle nod.

"Let's get you to bed, then." He chuckles, tapping the backs of your thighs to encourage you to stand. 

You can't help but whine just a little, entirely resistant to moving even if Johnny's bed is only a short walk away. "It's too early to sleep." You try to reason, even if you have no clue of the time.

Johnny presses another kiss to your forehead—his smirk cheeky and eyes bright. "Who said we'd be sleeping?" 

With assistance from Johnny, you sleepily stumble to his bedroom and immediately plop yourself down on the edge of the mattress while Johnny fetches your forgotten bags from the entryway. 

Your orgasm has left you a little boneless and ignited an even stronger craving for connection with Johnny. He parts from you for even a moment, and your body calls out to be cuddled up with him again.

Luckily, he returns quickly, setting the bag down beside you so you can sleepily rifle through the bag for your pyjamas.

When you finally locate the silky set, you urge yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom. Johnny stops you by the wrists before you can reach the door. 

"Where are ye going?" He asks, an adorable look of confusion on his face. 

"To get changed." You explain, trying to stop your voice from trembling with nerves. Despite just cumming on this man's thigh, there's something startling about the vulnerability of changing before him that makes your walls shoot up and your body stiffen. 

Johnny's thumb runs over your wrist, as his expression softens, and he releases his hold.

"'s okay." He nods, turning to grab his own pyjama bottoms and beating you out of the door to the bathroom, leaving you in the comfort of his room. "Shout me when yer done, aye?"

The door clicks shut behind Johnny, as your heart fills with warmth at his easy and sweet accommodation of you. 

You slip off your dress first, folding it semi-neatly and slipping into the bag before you opt to slip off your panties too—they're still soaked through from your earlier activities and were clinging to your folds almost uncomfortably. You quickly shimmy on the matching silk set—cute shorts with a cami top, as you try to remember the confidence you felt when trying the set on.

You call out to Johnny, beckoning him back into the room and hoping his reaction to your outfit is everything you could hope for.

When Johnny slips round the door, his eyes almost jump out of his head—though you're sure yours are doing the same. "Fuckin' christ, bonnie." 

Your eyes rake down Johnny's body just as he does you—his chest is bare, and his plaid pyjama bottoms are slung low on his hips. You can't tear your eyes away, as they dart around taking in every little feature—the broad muscles, slight dusting of hair, or constellation of scars and freckles all down his torso. It's hard to decide which part of him is the most delicious, the most deserving of your eyes' attention. 

"Christ yourself." You whisper, completely in awe. 

Johnny steps forward, taking your hands in his and pulling you into his warmth. His smile is adoring, his eyes showing nothing but reverence as he takes in every detail of you—you wonder if he's recognised just what you've done. 

"You look so good, I wanna eat you." His words are purred into your neck as he presses kisses along your skin, and his hands slip all over your silky skin and barely-there clothes. His hands find their way to the hem of your top, pausing slightly as if asking for consent. 

"Johnny..." You whine as you turn your head nervously, shielding your embarrassed expression from view and desperately hoping you don't have to explain yourself further. 

He cups your jaw tenderly, without any intention of turning you to face him. His voice is just as considerate. "Nervous?" 

"I know it's silly, but..." You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. 

I'm scared you won't like what you see. 

I'm scared you'll leave once you get what you want. 

I'm scared I won't compare to what you imagined, to what you deserve. 

Johnny can sense it all, or at least some of it—as his eyes briefly flare with intense worry. He pulls away before you can ask, flicking the light switch and plunging you both into inky darkness—the room only illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. 

"How's this, hen?" He asks, finding his way back to you.

Somehow, the barely-there lighting of the room feels like a safety blanket—a joyous hiding-in-the-pillow fort feeling, instead of being subjected to a spotlight that seems to amplify all your insecurities.

"Better." Your smile is genuine as you reposition atop the bed, pulling Johnny with you gently as you seek comfort. The two of you scramble up the bed, laying over the covers and facing each other—just inside each other's embrace. 

Johnny's handsome features are visible enough in the dim, with his easy smile still lighting up the room. "Will just have to feel ma way around... if tha's okay." 

"Touch but don't look, instead of the other way around." You laugh, the act releasing some of your pent-up worry. Your hand chases Johnny's, moving it from the bed to your body and encouraging him to touch you. "Sounds good to me." 

"That's ma girl. Ye feel fucking divine." He sighs his words into your skin, leaning forward for a kiss as his hand dips under the fabric of your top and rests on the curve of your waist. His thumb still appreciatively strokes across the satin of your pyjamas.

"I bought these just for you." You admit, voice a soft whisper. 

"Did ye pick the colour of my eyes on purpose, pet?" 

So he had noticed, you think. "Yeah..."

Johnny's easy expression falters for a moment, his usual confidence wavering in the face of such a heartfelt act. 

"Fuckin' christ." His hand squeezes at your side as he lets out a shaky sigh. "And as if I wasn't hard enough."

"Oh?" Your hand reaches out to rest on Johnny's chest, fingers raking down slightly on your path of exploration, headed straight for the waistband of his bottoms where your ignited curiosity is focused. 

Your fingers itch to feel his cock again, remembering how deliciously hard and huge he had felt under your touch in the café. This time, you could feel him without reservation, and experience exactly the effect you have on him without any barriers of material or propriety. 

His eyebrow arches at the action, and his eyes sparkle interest. "Bonnie, where's tha' hand going?"

"I wanna feel it, please." You whisper, accompanying your words with a teasing touch as you slip your thumb under the waistband and tug at the elastic. 

Another tremulous exhale passes his lips before he pulls the lower one between his teeth. "When ye beg like tha’, how can I say no?"

Your hand dives below his waistband as you eagerly wrap your hand around the satiny smooth skin of his cock—feeling the bulging veins and the way the tip leaks with sticky pre.

“Fuck.” You continue to explore his length, stroking slowly and reverently as you watch his face for his reactions—relishing in each quiver of his brows or flutter of his lashes. “Honestly, I don't know how I got this far without begging you to show it to me.”

He chuckles as his hips buck slightly to meet your touch, frenetic energy building inside of him. “Guess for now you’ll just have to keep feelin’. Make up fer lost time.”

“Johnny…” 

“Yes, puppy?”

You stroke down to the base, gripping it firmly for a moment as you speak. "There's no way you're fitting that inside me—" 

Johnny's eyes flare with ravenous need, his smile turning delightfully sinful before he devours your protests with a messy kiss—a hand gripping at your chin. 

"Shhh, I know that pretty cunny can take me." He purrs his words into your mouth, forcing you to practically swallow them and all of their intensity. "When the time comes, we'll go slow. I'll take care of ye, train my puppy to take me."

Your body squirms involuntarily, arousal and surrender washing over you in waves as Johnny's authoritative tone melts you back into a submissive headspace. 

"Your mouth is evil, Johnny." You whine and shiver. "You know what you do to me, right?" 

"I have an idea." He smirks, as the hand gripping your down trails down your neck and over your body before stopping at your waistband for permission. "Wouldnae mind more of one, though, if tha's okay." 

"Please."

It's impossible to hold back your gasp as Johnny's thick fingers finally slide in between your soaked folds and make contact with your sensitive clit. 

He swipes through your wetness repeatedly, dipping down to tease at your entrance before pulling more slick over your clit and swirling it easily with his fingers. You curl into him slightly, forehead falling against his as your legs fall apart, and you surrender to his touch. 

Each stroke feels electric, and your hips rise and fall to chase every little sensation you get from the way he explores you. You find your eyes drifting shut from the pleasure, and the need to shield yourself from the intensity of his hungry stare. 

"Fuck, drippin' fer me." His voice is lower, coming from deeper in his chest, as you feel his dick throb. He's stopped rutting into your hand, instead focused entirely on you.

"... When I got home after our date, I was soaked right through." You admit, voice shaky and unsteady and wracked with pleasure. The glow radiates outwards from your core, coiling in your stomach. Despite your earlier release, your need is still overwhelming—Johnny's touch feeling better than anything you've felt in so long.

"Always makin' a mess. Making a mess on ma fingers right now."

"I can't help it." You whimper helplessly, and even more so when Johnny's fingers withdraw from your folds and leave your cunt aching for him. 

Your eyes fly open in time to watch him take the soaked digits in his mouth, cleaning your mess off of them with his tongue as he gives you an intense, unwavering look that makes your cheeks blaze.

"Taste heavenly, bonnie. Think I need more of a taste, though." He grins, his eyes raging with a hunger that makes your stomach flip.

"Fuck," You sigh, wanting his mouth on you and yet feeling a sense of guilt for even thinking about letting him. "I... I should get you off first." 

You return to stroking his length, your movements having stilled as he had focused on you, but his hand moves to grip your wrist—stilling it in its tracks. 

"Lass, if you give me the word, there's nothin' coming between me and eating tha' kitty of yours. Not even my own cock." 

The certainty in his tone and his look almost have you convinced, but that niggle of insecurity and worry still lingers in the back of your mind, urging you to deny yourself of the pleasures Johnny can give you.

"I don't usually..." You trail off, struggling to finish your sentence. Part of you wants to say you don't let guys go down on you, but it's not like the last one even cared to offer.

You haven't even told Johnny any details, yet he seems enthusiastic enough to compensate for any of the experiences you've had in the past. 

His expression cycles through a myriad of emotions—confusion, sadness, and anger, before he settles on a soft yet determined look.

"Do you want me to go down on ye?" 

"Yes." Your answer slips out far too quickly, but the thought of his mouth on your cunt makes your head spin.

His hand returns to cup your cheek, stroking reassuringly as his eyes plead with you. "Then please, bonnie." 

You swallow, pushing away the voices in the back of your head as you nod, and Johnny scrambles down the bed. 

He pulls down your shorts and tosses them aside, before his arms wrap around your thighs to pull them apart. His lips quickly find their way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, kissing and licking and biting ever so slightly as you squirm helplessly beneath him. 

His muscular arms keep your lower body exactly where he wants you, as his kisses move higher and higher before they press the outside of your folds and make you cry out. 

"Poor little neglected kitty." He coos, before pressing more kisses to your lips. 

"Johnny—"

"Shh." He interrupts you sharply yet playfully, looking up from between your legs and fixing you with a light-hearted glare. "Am making introductions." 

He refocuses his attention back on your cunt, a hand moving so he can stroke his thumb back and forth over your sensitive nub while he coos sweet nothings into your centre.

"Need someone to take care of ye? I'm a good owner, promise." He dives in and captures your clit in an open-mouthed kiss, sucking slightly before pulling off with a pop. "Know how tae play with ye just right."

It's overwhelming, the way he talks and the fact he's talking to your cunt like it's separate from you, and yet something he's just enamoured with. 

He starts eating you in earnest, tongue swiping up and down your folds, stubble rubbing against your skin—sweet, hot pleasure trickles through you with every little sensation, and you know you're not going to last long under Johnny's mouth.

"Fuck, can't wait to see ye properly. Pretty pussy, all fer me." 

He dives back in, all tongue and lips and slick, wet heat as he makes love to your clit and folds with his mouth—drawing out every whine and whimper you're capable of making. 

"Oh my god," You gasp, hand falling to his head so your fingers can tangle in his hair. "You're so good fucking with your tongue." 

When he pulls back to talk, his lips glisten with your arousal. "'m not just talk, bonnie. Think ye can take my fingers too?"

"Please, please." You beg, almost urging him back to your core as his fingers circle your entrance before slowly sinking in. 

The two digits stretch you slowly, getting you accustomed to the assault before his tongue is on your clit again, all of him working in tandem to make you shiver and squirm. Your cunt squelches with each thrust and lick, Johnny forcing more arousal to leak from your pretty hole as he lavishes you with attention and pleasure. 

"Such pretty sounds." He mumbles, though his eyes don't meet yours.

"Do you mean me or..." You swallow nervously, shyness overtaking you as you summon the words to address yourself. "...her?" 

"Both of ye." He growls, before feasting with renewed fervour. 

You've never had a man eat you like this in your life, as Johnny drinks your nectar like he needs it to survive, and caresses your insides with the most reverent touch. His has you completely undone beneath him, moaning loud enough to disturb the neighbours and racing towards your peak in record time.

Your legs shake against his hold, your hips naturally rising to meet his mouth as your pleasure builds and builds, pushing you ever further toward ecstasy. 

"I'm close." You whimper when the precipice arrives, and Johnny doesn't hold back in the slightest.

"Cum fer me." He mumbles, before sucking you over the edge. Your thighs squeeze and tremble around his head as you explode under his tongue and clench around his thick fingers. 

His attention doesn't wane until he's wrung every little bit of pleasure out of your quivering body. "Mhmmm. Good girl."

He presses one last kiss to your clit, bidding her goodbye before he gently slides your shorts back up your legs and joins you at the head of the bed.

"Fuck..."

The afterglow flows through you like lava in your veins, filling you with a warmth that only grows as Johnny strokes your face. 

"Can I kiss ye?" He asks, his lips hovering just a fraction from your own. 

"I need you to. I'll just ignore the taste of myself."

"Your loss."

He closes the distance, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, one so achingly sweet you pay no mind to the taste of yourself on your tongue. 

Johnny continues to caress your face as he deepens the kiss, making you breathless once more.

You find yourself having to turn away from the kiss to bury your head into the pillow as you stifle an overwhelming yawn. 

"Tired fer real now, sweetheart?" Johnny whispers, chasing you to press kisses to the side of your head. 

You turn back to face Johnny, noses almost brushing together as you give the slightest confirmatory nod. "'m a little sleepy." 

Johnny rushes to slide off the bed, throw back the covers, and position himself on his back. He pats his chest in invitation, smiling at you ever so sweetly. "Your pillow awaits. Non-negotiable, aye?" 

It takes a little bit of shuffling on both behalves to get you settled under the covers and snuggled up to the warmth and comfort that is Johnny's chest. Your cheek is pressed to his pec as your arm settles across his torso—he loops an arm around your back and pulls the other one over his body, holding the thigh that rests over his hips.

You cuddle in closer, relishing the way your bodies fit together, and the way his chest cradles your head so perfectly. "Mhm. Comfy pillow." 

"I'm glad—"

You interrupt him immediately, your hand coming up to smooth over his chest and squeeze appreciatively. 

"Shh." You whisper condescendingly, imitating Johnny's tone from earlier when he was between your legs. "I'm making introductions."

His chest rumbles with a laugh, as he lets you get well acquainted with his pecs. "Brat." 

Your eyes quickly slip shut, your hand stilling of any further movement. Johnny's voice is a sweet whisper from above you as you drift out of consciousness. 

"Sweet dreams, bonnie."

taglist:

@cooliofango@ramadiiiisme @pterodactyal @simonrillleyyysss @hexqueensupreme @ivymarquis @oilfics @ghosts-cyphera@msdrpreist @collmemabi @ysljoon@kmi-02 @mockerycrow @nakedcrackers @cassiecasluciluce @xcup1d @cloudsovercoffee @lovewithasideoflust @abbiesxox @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @bubuslutty @under-the-dirt @spicyspicyliving @fruitysnackysmain@dangerkitten1705@darkmornings-sweetnights @evivarys @bootboob @ninman82 @mxshpitmom@lovefromjazzy @mommymilkers-01 @liidiaaag @sharksausages @sesh-goth @astraluminaaa @alittlejudgemental @commonm1stake

want to be tagged? click here! want to be untagged? dm me or comment, i won’t be offended ♥

#where is my fuckin john mctavish #i am horny and crying at the same time #bun the things you let me feel #how can something be THAT hot and soft at the same time #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader

[juvenillia]

I finally finished the next chapter for DoPoM, and it's a bit longer to make it up to you guys.🩶

Just need to go through it again, so it's definitely coming this week!

#jules tea talk #story update #service tweet #simon ghost riley #death of peace of mind #dopom

[juvenillia]

Situationships with Ghost would absolutely destroy you. This man is way too detached from anything that isn't related to his job, the only times he's not at base is during leaves, opting to go see you and blow off some steam. Sex with Ghost is rough, putting you in all fours and absolutely destroying your cunt in a way that has you coming undone underneath his gloved hands.

He's never forceful or hurtful with the way he handles you, but he's rough. One of his hands holds onto your waist while the other one is busy delivering spank after spank on your reddening ass as he fucks into you, words of praise mixing in with the pure degrading filth that comes out of his mouth, barely managing to pull out of you and cum all over your bare back, marking you as his. It doesn't matter if you had any FWBs before you met him— he completely ruined you for anyone else. No one else is quite like him, and no one can make you cum half as hard.

He never stays long after cumming for the first few months, yet around December, he's more... open, in a way. He stays in your house for longer, his back against the headboard while his balaclava is pulled up halfway, a cigarette hanging from his lips as his now bare hands absentmindedly dare to play with your hair. It took him months to even remove any of his clothes let alone his gloves, secretly afraid his touch would tarnish your soul, tainting you forever until inevitably one of his enemies puts a bullet through your skull.

The day never comes, though. No matter how many times he touches you with his bare hands, you're still alive every single time he comes back from deployment. He comes to you a few days before Christmas, unsure on how to ask if he can stay with you until you suggest it. It's the first time ever since his family died that he dares celebrate the holiday, buying you a pretty silver necklace that he saw you eyeing during one of the times he went out with you.

That night he fucked you good and slow, clothes and balaclava completely off and his dog tags on you along with the new necklace, watching them disappear on your pretty tits as he made love to you for the first time.

#is this too much to ask for #simon ghost riley #still waiting for my simon to show up #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader

[juvenillia]

~ tangled series ~ part 3

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

a/n: Welcome back to part 3 of the tangled series. By now I decided that this series will become also a bit longer. Let's see where it'll lead us. Also I am sorry for the lack of updates atm, but I'm trying my best.

worcount: 3.6k

》Masterlist《 》 Read on AO3 《 》Master Post《

It seemed like you were the only one relaxed in the whole situation. Simon was tense as a rock, he didn’t dare to move, his eyes still subtle pinned on every movement you made trying to put the pieces together. He didn’t even dare to remove his mask, it stayed stern in place, only tugged up to sip on his drink occasionally. Johnny on the other hand was avoiding eye contact with everyone. His eyes stared down at his still empty plate. Kyle was the one trying to ease the whole vibe while chatting with his captain and getting some comments out of you as well. Humming along the conversation while sipping on your water in peace. John on the other hand was stressed as well. To be honest he was already on edge because of his medical leave, but seeing how his team, his boys behaved around you made him kind of nervous.

A ringing of the timer on your phone broke the vibe a bit. “Kyle? Mind me helpin’?” You stood up from John’s right side and requested man followed you to the kitchen, a genuine smile on his lips. It gave John a second to get a grip on the whole situation.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell. What’s wrong with you boys?” His voice had this authorial tone he used often as their captain. Still there was a worried undertone in. And a glimpse of regret not being able to be the captain they deserved right now.

“Bein’ a bit on edge lately. Sorry cap.” It was Johnny who answered, his voice full of regret. His partner looked at him with a concerned glance. Eyeing him up from toe to head before his hand found his nape. Squeezing it just so slightly. Simon didn’t know why this whole situation affected the Scot so much. Maybe it was seeing a happy couple so at ease. It wasn’t something self-evident for people with their career to have a partner waiting at home for them. Something the Scot wished often for but was now somehow stuck with his comrade and kind-of lover. It made Simon himself feel somehow guilty. But at least it helped him to ease his own mind, knowing that Johnny needed him now. Little did both know.

“Alright. Pull yourself together just for the few hours.” Price scolded them quiet, still an understanding tune in it as the door from the kitchen swung once more open. Revealing Kyle with two plates of baked pasta, holding the door with his body open for you to walk up to table with three plates yourself.

“Thank you.” Johnny mumbled as you handed him a plate, Simon only nodded.

“Anytime.” The sing-song voice that once made him excited and flustered gave him now a nauseous feeling down his guts. He couldn’t look at you, his mind flooding with thoughts of what-ifs and questions he had no answer for. All of you started to eat in silence.

“Lovely as al…” Just as John wanted to praise your cooking, an alarm set off. Not an alarm per se, but it sounded like on. It was the ringtone of your on-call phone. “You said no work, sunny.” Now it was Price’s voice that was filled with a certain sadness.

You pulled the napkin from your lap and placed it on the table. You gave him an apologetic look before walking over the shelf next to the dining table, pulling your phone from it and flicking the green button. “Price,” you answered quick and left the open living room area. John eyes followed your figure.

The room felt with anticipation, mostly because of the behavior of John. It was contagious for the others. It took you about 10 minutes to return to the room. A bag slipped over your shoulder, and a hoodie already thrown over your statue. A soft smile playing on your lips as you walked up to John. “Connor could draft in someone else…” His eyes met yours and you nodded.

“It’s better off in my hands, we both know that.” You assured him, shoving your phone into the pocket.

“How bad is it?” John reached his right hand that wasn’t caught in a cast out to you. It was the first time this evening Johnny dared to look at you again.

You stood closer, his hand placed onto your back, as you leaned over to him. “It’s not Piccadilly.” You laughed and John rolled his eyes at your statement. Kyle’s brows furrowed with confusion.

“He really needs to learn how to sort out priorities…” That made you roll your eyes. It was an inside joke you shared with him since the terror attack at Piccadilly Circus. Your coworker Connor and boss always referred to any incident as ‘not as was worse as piccadilly’, because nothing could be nearly worse than this day. You worked for more than two days straight. Five minutes naps were the only rest you got in between two patients and coffee became your best friend and somehow worst nightmare. “Call me. Alright?”

“Sure, Johnny.” You reassured him with your soft and still teasing voice before turning to your guests. The Scots stomach took some twists about the nickname. The name you cried out while he went down on you months ago. “Was a pleasure.” Did you intend the double meaning? Johnny couldn’t tell. You forced a half-hearted smile onto your lips, while the men around just nodded their goodbyes. And soon you were gone through the front door.

As soon as your car pulled off, Kyle looked at his captain. “Due to all respect. What was she dealing with at Piccadilly?” Kyle did remember that day like the back of his hand. It was the day he and Price met, and his life took a sudden turn.

Price exhaled; his brows furrowed in regret. “She is a trauma surgeon and had to deal with the aftermaths of our mistakes.” His voice was an octave deeper than usual and full of guilt.  

Kyle’s eyes widen in shock, and a certain guilty vibe clung over the table. All for different reasons. A vibe nobody of them could really ease. So, they ate in silence, shared some more thoughts about the latest operations and how Price would make sure to get some assistance for the time he couldn’t be at base. Just like that the evening ended and the three men found themselves back in Simon’s car. The trip back to the base was filled with nothing than silence. Everyone caught up in their thoughts. Not daring to speak those out aloud.

Just as they pulled into the garage Johnny couldn’t bare it anymore. He knew that Simon could read him like an open book. Something that came with their work, what made their relationship a bit easier. But therefor he also assumed that his partner already knew that the Scot felt more than uncomfortable this evening. He didn’t even wait for Kyle to leave the car, because he fairly well knew himself as he was Johnny’s wingman back then. “So… I think we need to talk…” Johnny’s voice was full of pity. He didn’t even dare to look at Simon, who only hummed in approval, own eyes pinned onto his fist clenching around the steering wheel. The Brit assumed that Johnny caught something of his weird behavior tonight.

It stayed calm for another minute. One that felt unbearable. “I fucked the Captains wife.” Both said at the same time and immediately looked at each other in completely shock.

“Ye dae what?” It was Johnny whose sorrow turned into completely shock. He knew they agreed on having an open situationship. Especially for times when separated to blow off some steam. But he didn’t know that Simon actually had someone since their agreement.

“Wait, you both had the same bloody bird?” Kyle’s voice was somehow filled with amusement but also with disbelief. He shook his head. “You really need to sort things out mates. Cheers.” He left the car and made up his own mind. As much as he loved to get into the gossip deeper, he respected the boundaries his three teammates now had to take care of.

The when’s and how’s were cleared fast. Stating the facts and sharing it with each other as they found themselves in Simon’s room, sitting on his bed. “I mean… something must be wrong if lass actually cheats on him, eh?” Johnny tried to find a reason to blame your behavior and not theirs. Trying to somehow ease his mind. “And ye said ye met her while she was working in a bar? But Cap said she’s a surgeon? Dinnea make any sense…” His hands found some loose strands at the end of his mohawk as he slightly pulled at them.

Simon’s huge, calloused hands found his. As he pulled them away and interlaced his fingers with his. “Do we know for sure…that they’re married?” The question was only above a whisper. Johnny looked in disbelief at him. “They don’t wear a ring.” Simon went through his mind, all the way back to when he met you. To the dinner, to all the times he saw Price’s hands bare in front of him. Never did he saw a ring on the left hand. Not even something like a tan line was imprinted in his brain.

“Maybe they dinnea wear it because of their jobs… I dinnea ken.” He exhaled deeply. Leaning into the side of his partner for comfort.

“Maybe we should ‘st forget about it all… it happened, it’s in the past and now we should draw our distance from her. Strictly.” Simon’s voice was firm, but somehow gentle as his hand ran up and down of Johnny’s spine. Johnny nodded and both were sure, that it wouldn’t be that hard. They haven’t seen you all the years before, so why should that change now?

Well for the next day’s nothing indeed changed. They were going after their choirs on base and prepared everything for the next deployment. Trying to suppress any feelings turning in their stomachs and minds. In the meantime, it was Alex Keller who took a temporally place in their office, trying to get a grip on everything that was happening around. A familiar and friendly face around the base to help when their Captain was still on medical leave. They were just gathered around a table in a briefing room, discussing over some intel they gathered on the last operation when they could hear a knock on the door. Simon’s head snapped into the direction. “C’mon in.”

The door opened and revealed nothing different than your soft features. Johnny’s stomach instantly twisting as he saw your face. It hurt him to see you, how he still had the urge to be close to you. Dreams of the last nights all circling around you, and the things his partner and you did together. Imaging how pretty you’d have to look beneath Simon’s frame. He had dreams about you before, but now it was worse. He couldn’t shake the hot thoughts away when imagine himself and his partner sharing the same woman. And still he knew how all that was way too inappropriate.

“Hello there. John sends his regards. Said you could need that.” You walked over and handed a file to Simon, which eyes stared down at you. Right now, he wasn’t Simon, he was the Ghost. Not letting his emotions and thoughts getting in the way of his job.

“Sunny.” It was Alex’ voice that was heard before Ghost even could say something. He rounded the table to give you a quick and friendly hug. One that lasted a bit longer than Johnny thought was appropriate.

“Don’t let him hear that.” You laughed. While crossing your arms in front of your chest. You knew Alex from before. He was one of the rare mates of John you ever actual met. Even if it was a coincidence, you rather wanted to forget.

Alex let out a quiet chuckle. “Still the same, hm? And I wanted to ask you out for dinner. What a shame.” He gave you a coquettish smirk. The action confused the other members of the 141 even more. “How’s he doing?”

“You’d wish.” Winking at him with a sweet smile. “Better. Nearly ready to go again. Need to keep his arse taped down though.” You laughed, and that was the first time the vibe relaxed a bit. All of them could easily imagine how Price would try to do anything but rest. The thought of you chasing after him to get him to actual rest.

Your glance switched to the clock on your wrist. “Busy as ever?” Alex’s smile dropped a bit. He was always so tender and flirtatious without any further intentions though.

 “You know me too well Keller.” A smile on your lips before you waved them goodbye and went after your business. Even after all those hours after your leaving, Johnny’s thoughts were always pinned to his partners words. And he couldn’t help himself but imagining how you’d feel pressed between both of their sweaty bodies. You were like a drug, and he couldn’t get away, while Simon tried to ditch everything that even had to deal with you. You were a forbidden fruit. Something he didn’t only not deserved but was completely not allowed to even think about. And he managed pretty well. Still, he found himself late at nights, with a naked Scot curled up at his side imagine how you were there with him, with them. How you were pinned on his chest while his mind so hard to chase those thoughts away.

It was four weeks later, when everything changed, and things started to make a bit more sense. The 141 including Alex and John just came back from a mission. It was the first one after Price went back to duty. Everything went well so far, and they found themselves in a nearby pub to celebrate their success and return of their captain. Kyle was the assigned driver for the night while everyone else toasted to their accomplishments. John was already quiet drunk, his medication still wearing on him, mixed with the whiskey rushing through his blood. Alex decided it would be for the best to send him home early. But nobody wanted to leave already. Everyone was into a way to good mood to let the night end already. Especially Johnny, as Simon was found to be a bit more touchy-feely with him. Something that happened very rarely in public, and he was too down for it. Maybe it was because this bar gave him a few memories. Some of them he tried to keep locked in the very last corner of his brain.

That way, Alex tried to be the most reasonable and called you, just as John and Johnny sung along the melody in the pub. Johnny already needed to steady his captain with his own arm while Simon had his hand on the Scots thigh.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice sounded worried as you picked up Alex’ call.

“Why should something be wrong?” Alex tried to calm his voice, trying to sober up just a little bit.

“Alex Keller. You do not just call me in the night when you are on deployment.” You had a scolding tone in your voice. Something he was familiar with. It was the same tone John himself hold all so often.

“We’re already back. It’s just… John…”

“Spit it out.” Your shoulders tensed as you feared the worst.

“He overdid it. I think he needs rest. Maybe you can come get him?” Alex rubbed his neck while his eyes fell onto the statue of Price. He almost clung to Johnny to keep him up. For a soldier that has been through a lot, the mixture of alcohol, pain meds and the last days of operation had grown its toll on him.

“Bloody ‘ell… y’all are drunk, aren’t ya? Stevie’s?” Your accent grew a bit thicker, as you already throw a jacket over your shoulders and took the keys of your car.

“Yeah and thank you.”

It took you about half an hour to arrive at the bar. A bar that belonged to a close friend of John’s. A friend that was a former soldier but retired because of a chronical hearing disability, caused through his job as a demolition expert back then. A bar where Steve now often offered soldiers as a safe space to calm their thoughts. A place you sometimes lend a helping hand when the pain and PTSD got the best of him. This man had risked his own life to save John’s. How could you not help him when he needed a day off? This was only possible when you had your days off of course. Otherwise, you were too occupied to save lives in your own way.

You made your way up to the bar fast, greeting some of the regulars, like Marcus. Bit your greetings to Stevie and get a glass of water. Kyle nearly choked on his drink as he found your figure approaching your table. “Sunshine?” John’s voice was drained as he noticed you, but he tried to stand up. Alex was faster on his feet, pushing him down into his seat again.

“Drink.” Your voice was stern as you pushed the glass into his hand. He followed your order without hesitation. “Things should never have been allowed to come to this pass.” You looked at Alex with a scolding hint in your eyes. The others of the 141 watched the whole scenery with mixed feelings. The grip on the Scots thigh tightened as Simons eyes were pinned onto your figure. The same excitement washing over him as he watched you handling those assholes when he first met you.

Alex stood up and placed his hands on your shoulders. His eyes an unspoken apology, before his mouth accomplished the words. “I am sorry, sunny.”

These words flipped a switch in John’s brain. He was quicker on his feet than anybody could even blink. His statue standing between the both of you and literally ripping Alex’ hands of you. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare, soldier.” Alex stepped back a bit, his hands up in defense. He had seen the captain’s fury before.

That when you forcefully turned him around. “John.” He just wanted to turn back to Alex. That’s when your voice became that same demanding tone as John’s. “Jonathan Price.” It somehow snapped him back, his clouded thoughts sobering up a bit. “Get in the car.” Your tone sent shivers down his spine. Bot not only to John’s. The Scot found himself a bit too aroused by the tone in your voice as he shifted a bit further into the male next to him.

“Sunny…” John’s voice was pleading as he tried to reach out to you. His eyes full of regret.

“Weren’t my words clear enough?” You literal hissed at him. And he shook his head no before walking sloppy out of the pub. Kyle was quick to steady him and help him out. Simon saw Price often with regret clinging to his body, but never with this kind of defeat. You punched the bridge of your nose with a deep exhale. “Next time call earlier.” You looked at Alex and nodded. “Sorry for the interruptions. Enjoy the rest of the night.” You apologized and smiled genuine at the remaining members on the table, who looked at you with a certain understanding, while everything in their eyes screamed to take you somewhere else. Somewhere behind closed doors to go after those inappropriate fantasies that were haunting their dreams. But they could do nothing to stare after you while you left. Still eyes pinned on the door you walked through minutes later as Kyle just returned, a wide grin on his lips, that somehow didn’t make any sense to Simon nor Johnny.

“What’s ‘e face about?” Simon’s voice was a low grumble. Trying to process everything that just happened.

“You’ll see soon enough.” Kyle laughed while Alex took the place next to him again.

This revelation came sooner than everyone expected. It was at the next day. The men already gathered for some breakfast as their captain returned to base. His head a bit lower than usual. “I wanted to apologize.” He looked at all his team members, but mostly at Alex who only nodded. But before Alex could answer John continued. “I stepped a line.” Simon looked at him in disbelief. Never did he noticed such an undertone lingering in between his words. It was nearly hurt.

taglist: open just leave a comment

“Sir, due to all respect, but if my sister would’ve been through the same… I wouldn’t have act any different.” Alex’ hand found the shoulder of the older man. A reassuring smile on his lips as Price only nodded. The rumbling inside John’s heart settling more and more. While this whole situation only established a deep longing in Johnny’s stomach. Sister…you weren’t his wife. You were his little sister. Neither him nor Simon had broken into your relationship. Johnny shoved all the thoughts of the eventual reaction of their captain aside. Maybe there was still hope for the dreams he had. Maybe he could reach them somehow. His eyes found those of his partner, who already stared at back at him and Johnny could’ve sworn to see some of the same kind of desire in those brown orbs.

@cooliofango @ghostslillady @anothersimpsblog

#cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #soap x reader #soap x ghost #soap x reader x ghost #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #john price cod #kyle gaz garrick

[juvenillia]

well i am not suprised by mine

reblog with your spotify wrapped!

#jules tea talk #spotify wrapped 2023

[juvenillia]

I finally finished tangled part 3 and hope to finish the new DoPoM chapter for Thursday 🙏🏻🩶

#jules tea talk #story update #service tweet #simon riley x reader #soap x reader x ghost

[juvenillia]

okay, simon x higher ranked reader is the blueprint, but price x higher ranked reader?

shepherd gave you to task force 141 just to be an observer of john price's decisions since he suspects that he doesn't quite listen to him. you're higher ranked, a few years more into the field.

you're infuriating for price, always calm and collected, but he can't act like this around you. he's like a ticking bomb when you're bossy, ordering everyone, even him. the captain. someone that you should be afraid of, and you don't even give a shit.

"with all due respect, captain," you say through gritted teeth, when he covers the door of his your shared office. like a child that doesn't want to share his room with their sibling. "i have authority to be here. just because you were the first one, doesn't mean that i can't be here."

"and i have authority to lead you to different office. not mine."

and you just know it's gonna be a long road with him.

(all brainrot thanks to @juvenillia)

#jules reblogs #jules brainrot #couldnt be happier to help with mapping out new stuff #captain john price #price x reader #higher ranked reader is chefs kiss

[juvenillia]

reworked part 1 now and part 3 is nearly finished. stay tuned!

~ tangled series~ part 1

John 'Soap' MacTavish x fem!reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley

summary: Johnny needs release, when he got denied from his usual partner he searches out for someone new. A casual ons, but he found something different and things become...complicated.

a/n: Had a spontanous idea and that is the product of it. Let me know what you think. [I don't have much experience writing so smut so I'm thankful for every criticism]

cw/tw: suggestive content, pure smut , bi!Soap, Ghoap, flirting, petnames, piv, unprotected sex, fingering, drinking, open relationship/situationship

worcount: 2.4k

》Masterlist《 》 Read on AO3 《 》Master Post《

„Are ya so desperate? “Kyle laughed out, gulping on his beer while eyeing the frustrated face of the Scot.

“Dinnea yer’ve needs?” he exhaled while sipping halfhearted on his whiskey.

“Looks like not as strong as yours.” He smiled and bit back the smug grin. Trying to show a bit more empathy. They had a few days off, still deployed at the end of the world in a small town, before heading back to base. Some days to rest and blow off some steam. John and Simon mostly stayed in the hotel, just relaxing, and catching up to some sleep. Sometimes all of them would head out, but this time both were more reserved. Johnny visited the same bar for the second day now, just to find a cute girl to get laid. He was already needy, but after such a mission, he needed to get some things out of his system. But somehow his charisma didn’t seem to work. So, Kyle agreed to play wingman for him, but just now another local beauty ditched him.

“I think ‘m gonna explode by the end of the night.” Johnny sunk into the seat, legs fully stretched out under the table.

“Why don’t ya just visit Lt again?” Kyle suggested with a smug grin and Johnny shrugged.

“’s complicated right now…”

“And still, he’s fine with you searching for a woman?” Johnny nodded while pushing the edge of his glass against his lips. “Really don’t get ya two.” Kyle exhaled while patting the shoulder of his teammate. “Okay, the next woman walking through that door…” He pointed at the entry. “…will be your company for the night.” Johnny rolled with his eyes, but still those were pinned on the wooden door.

“Bad cop, good cop.” Kyle stated while walking over to the already crowded bar before Johnny could even say something.

It only took mere minutes before it opened again, and Kyle immediately clapped in his hands. Johnny even raised his brows at the sight in front of him.

You just made your way up to the bar, all alone, in nothing more than a sweet summer dress hugging your curves just perfectly, hair still dump from the late-night swim in the ocean next to the bar. Prettier than every woman Johnny had witnessed through the whole days. To be honest, he couldn’t remember seeing such a pretty thing in a very long time. The sheer thought of you and him made his pants grew a bit tighter.

“Wait…” His words met deaf ears as Kyle already bumped into you and spilled his beer all over you. Making your dress clung to your chest even more than before.

“Woah can’t ya be damn careful.” He fake-drunken cried out, while steading himself next to you at the bar. You literally glared at him.

“Excuse me?!”

“Spilled…my bloody beer all over those...” He let his hands hover over your breasts, and you had the urge to slap him right into his face. Just then he got shoved away. “Damn, pal…” Kyle cried out while Johnny stood between him and you. You raised a brow at the scenery.

“Fuck off and leave the lass alone.”

“Who do ya think ya…” Kyle couldn’t complete his sentence as Johnny pushed him forcefully back once more and he trailed away.

Now the Scot faced you with a nearly shy smile. “Yer alright?” His voice was deep but still soft. A small smile appearing on your lips, and you nodded.

“Kinda used to something like this.” You exhaled while taking a napkin he handed you. Carefully taping it over your cleavage and Johnny couldn’t help but stare.

He had to shake his mind clear before speaking again. “Then I owe yer an apology in the name of all those blaigeards. Let me buy yer a drink.” [bastards] He smiled, and you rose a brow at him at the accent, but you didn’t push it any further.  Just from the corner of his eyes he could see a simple thumbs up from Gaz before the Brit left the bar himself, leaving you to it.

“Why not.” You extended your hand, and he took it and placed a quick peck onto the back of your hand.

Eventually that’s the reason you found yourself in a hotel elevator, pressed against the wooden wall, straddling the man as he pushed his tongue past your lips. His hands roaming all over your body and staying firmly at your thighs, while pushing you up against the wall even more. Your hands took grip of the strains of hair while your kisses grew more heated. Both of your heads empty and light. Just the little ring of the elevator announcing your arrival of the destinated floor let you part for mere seconds.

“I’m Johnny.” He beamed at you and mirrored his smile. You told him your common nickname and he repeated it sweetly before ordering you your preferred drink.

You spent some more time talking and drinking when he once in while placed his calloused hand not so decently on your thigh or on top of your hand. Always keeping eye contact that nearly made you get lost in it. But you couldn’t care, as you enjoyed his company a bit too much.

He didn’t let go of your hand while dragging you after him. He just stopped in front of his door to place a deep kiss onto your lips. He stroked a loose strain of hair behind your ear. “So damn beautiful.” He then pushed the door open and lifted you up with ease. Your legs wrapping around his torso as he carried you in, kicking the door shut before throwing you on the bed. He didn’t even waste another second and yanked his shirt over his head away before crawling on bed to you. The sight of him made you grin, while you felt the heat between your legs rise.

“Come here,” you demanded with a smug smile, and he gladly obeyed, placing himself on top of you before his mouth crashed down on yours again. More passionate and wet than before. Your hands found his nape to pull him closer into you while you kept his pace. His hands wandering down your body, slowly lifting the hem of your dress and slipping beneath. His palm found your nearly bare ass, only covered in such a small piece of fabric and he let out a deep groan. His voice sent shivers down your spine as you slowly parted your legs to feel more of him and you did. You could intensely feel his hardened member grinding over your still clothed crotch, and it let fall some delicate moans out of your mouth. Just before he started kissing you again.

He planted kiss after kiss down your jawline to your neck. Biting on your soft flesh as another moan brushed over your lips and you tried to muffle it. “Dinnea hold back, bonnie. Let me hear yer.” His breath against your skin was such an added sensation when his hand wandered from your ass to your front. Rubbing lazy circles over your still clothed cunt. He slowly sat back, pushing your dress just above your hips to gain him better access. He let his fingers push past your panties while a finger run through your slit. “Hmm, already so fuckin’ wet. Only for me,” he chimed while his other hand wandered to the tent in his pants. Rubbing above the fabric of his trousers while his other hand started to explore your sensitive regions. Earning him another row of moans. Just when he pushed two digits inside of you, you arched your back at the sudden sensation.

“More.”, you only begged as he curled them inside you, and he groaned at your demand.

 “Fuck, bonnie,” he said while biting his lower lip. His hands were pinned on you, staring in your already lust drunken face. Usually, he would take his time with his hook up. Making his partner for the night completely cock drunk before even pushing him inside of them, letting them cum on his mouth, then his fingers until they were a brabbling mess, but he couldn’t hold himself back. Not when you were so delicate placed for him, and his cock was already throbbing and twitching at all the sweet sounds you gave him. He needed you right now. No time for any regrets or second thoughts. “Yer look so fuckin’ good beneath me,” he said while unbuckling his belt and the sight in front of you gave you weak knees. Johnny was an average man, but still so handsome. As he took the time to free himself from the last clothes you did the same with your dress. Leaving you only in your panties.

He moved down to plant some more kisses along your stomach before tearing your soaked panties down with his mouth, mind already completely feral as he got a taste of you. “Spread them legs wider for me lass,” he said while squeezing your thighs and placing him between them. His hand sloppy stroking his hard member a few times, smearing precum over his length. His eyes find yours again. “Tell me, when something feels wrong,” he said with a smug smile while lining himself up with your entry and pushing slowly in.

“Fuck, Johnny,” you cried out while arching your back. He shamelessly pushed deeper and deeper until bottomed out. Grunts left his throat, while his hands took grip of your hips to keep you in place as he began to thrust into you in an unforgivable pace.

“Takin’ me so damn well. Tell me how it feels,” he demanded while his hips slam against your body. One of his hands finding your leg to drab it over his shoulder, gaining him better and deeper access and it made you cry out. Tears of pure joy running down your cheeks as your hands cling onto the sheets.

“Doin’ so good pup. Keep going’, darlin’ “ You cried out while your back arched even more.

“Steamin’ jesus…” The petnames completely sending him into abyss. He could feel how your walls clenched around him and all that made it hard for him. Hard to contain himself as he was balls deep inside you. And you could feel how close he was, how sloppy his movements grew. You reached out to his neck to pull him down with you. Taking grip of his neck while his cock kept pushing against that sweet spongy spot inside of you. Tears started to roll down your face again and you could feel the tingle inside of you grow.

God, you were close, non-stop clenching around his hard member. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting on your neck, trying to hold him back a bite more. “I want ya cum inside…ya hear me pup.” Your tone was so different to earlier. So, demanding and he could do nothing than obey. His thrusts grew harder, as your fingers claw on his back. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t care, not when you felt so perfectly made for him. Your tight cunt soaking him in while he chased his release.

Just with some more thrusts he completely spilled his seed inside of you. “Christ yes,” you cried out while your hips bucked forward to meet his and you could feel his orgasm triggering your own. You panted while he placed kiss after kiss onto your exposed skin, and you kept him tight to you.

“Did so good for me, lass.” He gently said while cleaning you up. He definitely didn’t want to let go of you. Besides some experimental experiences with Ghost, this was by far the best sex he had, and he would totally annoy the shit out of Gaz and his Lieutenant about it. After cleaning everything up, pulling some underwear on you both, he gave you an olive shirt of his. It was a usual military one and it made you giggle the slightest. Even more when he pulled you onto his chest. “Stay,” he plead while placing a kiss onto the crown of your head. You pulled him down to you for another deep and passionate kiss. If Johnny only knew it would’ve been the last time, he would feel your lips onto him. For now…

He woke up early in the morning just to find out that you were already gone. No note, no number. Nothing was left, only a sheer memory and a frustration settled in his guts. Right now, the thought of him being nothing more than a one night stand made him feel utilized. Usually nothing was wrong about it because that’s how those things worked out. But you awakened something in him that made him want more. It felt so different to anything he had experienced before. But sadly, he didn’t know much more than your nickname, and the way you felt around him when pleasure took the best of both of you.

Weeks passed and he could finally sort things out with Simon, as their situationship grew to something more constant. Still, he couldn’t forget about that one night that still left him breathless. A night he got off to so many times when alone in his room. Always wondering what your favorite color might be, or which music you preferred on long roads. If you were a morning or an evening person. If you preferred dogs over cats. There were so many things he wanted to know about you. It kind of made him feel empty. He found solace in your fateful meeting, as much as he found peace next to Ghost. And even when sleeping curled up against Simon, he couldn’t forget the feeling of you tugged up his chest in his shirt. If he only knew what he got himself into…

#ghoap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #simon riley #soap smut #cod smut #soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader x soap