#i think that price likes quiet more than he likes music | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marcsburnerphone · 4 months

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And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: angsty (minimal), john being slightly troubled, alcohol, reader being slightly embarrassing.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5!! -part 6

—————-

You wake up to the sun softly beaming in your room. Limbs stretching beyond the covers. You look around a little confused as to when you got back in your bedroom. Then it all came together. John, John leaves today.

You get out of the covers leaving your bedroom hoping he’s still there but of course to your disappointment he’s gone. You head to the kitchen knowing at least there will be a note.

Good morning doll, I thought of waking you but decided against it, though I might regret it. The movie was good, you seemed to really be enjoying it also:) Here's the phone number of a friend in case any problems arise. Next time I’m back I hope to see another painting - John

(xxx-xxx-xxxx) - nick

You stare at it trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. So you fold it and put it in the kitchen drawer. Although John was an awfully quiet roommate you could feel the weight of his absence. The cold floor beneath your feet has grown warm for how long you’ve stood there. You make your way towards the front door deciding that an iced coffee and a long drive with music will rid you of this feeling you can’t decipher it feels like want but in a way it’s also need but what is it you want and need? Not even you could answer that question.

Long story short you think it made the feeling intensify.

————-

1 month in

You’ve booked your schedule full leaving not an ounce of time for yourself. From the morning till night you had clients which were good for money but really it was a distraction for your mind. That same feeling felt like it was running into new veins every day seemingly consuming you.

You tried to start a new painting but something was off about the color scheme and it was a waste not only of time but material and energy. You wonder how John is.

————-

2 months in

No problems have arisen since he’s been gone. It's like the house knows you’ll call the expensive plumber instead of John’s friend.

However you have started a painting you are beginning to like. It’s a mix of hues you’ve never used before blues and oranges, a flame. You don’t know where or why the idea came to you but it’s what you wanted so you started it. A single candle is the outline, and the surrounding of it is the orange yellowish aura of a flame. You tried making ratatouille the other day and although it was good you wished it was made out of pepperonis like your childhood mind had imagined. You forgot there was no longer anyone to finish left overs so you ate it for three days straight.

Also you bought a new rug.

————-

3 months in

You’ve begun putting the final laminate on the painting. It’s taken you far longer than it would’ve if you hadn’t accepted 15 new clients. Not that you mind anyways.

You’re also a little ambivalent to the idea of John paying for 6 months of rent when he doesn’t even live here during it.

Besides that life seems stagnant and you’ve begun to lock your bedroom door at night again.

————

4 months in

The painting now hangs a foot away from where the other one in front of John’s door does. It’s a beautiful contrast and really you were overjoyed at the outcome. You also randomly decided it’d be a good idea one night after too much wine to order new furniture for the outside deck. When it arrived you were one in disbelief of all the building pieces and and two excited to have something more to do.

You should've stayed up the night John left.

————

5 months in

Redecorating the deck wasn’t enough change. You needed a makeover physically but couldn’t decide how. Maybe a tattoo? No. New makeup? No. How about a haircut? Fuck it, yes.

So you did just that, you got a few almost unnoticeable highlights and chopped a good amount off. After the fact you were obsessed. Was it impulsive and could it have gone so horribly wrong, yes. But did it? No.

———

6 months in

John’s still not back and it’s all you could think about. What if something happened to him? What if he wasn’t coming back? You worried yourself sick so much so you physically became sick.

You waited week by week for anything, maybe he’s back on base but just hasn’t come back home yet. But something was telling you it was more than that.

———-

7 months in

At this point worrying wasn’t going to make him appear. Your hobbies have now turned into distractions. So tonight you sit in the living room with a glass of wine and watch another rom com. You’re as comfy as can be in this cold brutal weather. It stays below 30 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year and the snow bites at any unclothed skin.

You fall asleep to the small hum of the heater while on the couch. Thick blanket thrown across you and tv playing as background chatter.

You don’t know when you wake but it’s still dark outside when you hear someone that sounds distressed. Your groggy mind isn’t processing that the sound is coming from inside the house. But when it does you're up in a second looking around as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness.

“Fuck!” You hear from down the hall. John’s room.

You walk quietly towards it as he continues to chant that word. Suddenly it falls silent and you just hear what sounds to be deep breaths. You don’t know what wills you to knock, but you do.

“John, are you okay?” You ask softly from behind the closed door. He doesn’t respond but you know he’s in there from the quiet but quick breathing.

“No.” He says with that familiar deep drawl.

You open the door slowly to see him sitting on the floor near the corner of his bed clearly distressed. You take notice of the mess wondering how you slept through the making of it. There’s glass from somewhere on the floor and clothes strewn but when you look at him your heart breaks. He’s in full uniform, vest on, belt with equipment on, as if he didn’t stop anywhere. Just came straight here. His hair has grown out to an odd length and his beard has grown longer.

“I can’t get this fucking vest off.” He interrupts your thoughts looking at you with a sense of sorrow. You kneel to where he is careful to avoid glass. His eyes don’t glance up to meet yours; they stay fixated on his hands that are covered in dirt.

“May I?” You gesture towards the plastic buckles on the vest. He nods and you start with the two at his shoulders. Then you reach down his chest to undo the two near his belt buckle. You realize it must be connected somewhere in the back when it doesn’t come off. He leans forwards as you look trying to avoid the bloodstains that taint the once green vest and sure enough the tiniest but mightiest buckle is on the center of his lower back. He shrugs it off with a sigh.

“Better?” You ask softly.

“Yeah, Thankyou.” He slowly tilts his head back to lean on the comforter and you don’t move an inch.

“What can I do?” Truthfully you’ve never been in a situation so unbearably awkward but so unwilling to just leave.

“Just sit here with me.” So you do. You scoot right next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t admit it but the nights he slept in cold frost biting weather the thought of returning to your warm presence got him through.

“He almost died.” His voice gives out at the end of that sentence.

“Who?”

“Johnny, it would’ve been my fault. One second later and they would’ve put a bullet through his skull.”

“But he’s okay?” You know John loves his team even though he doesn’t outwardly say it.

“He’s perfectly fine.”

“Worrying about what could’ve been will kill you.”

“Sometimes I feel like that’s what I deserve for some of the things I’ve done.”

“If not you it would be someone else making the world a better place.”

“I know.”

You sit there with him for a while in silence. He can barely believe he made it back alive but right now the battle feels worth it. He hears soft snores not too long later and realizes you’ve fallen back to sleep. His head leans to rest above yours as he closes his eyes. He knows sleep won’t come to him but he’s never had you this close and for now he’ll cherish it.

————-

When you woke up again the sun had risen and a golden glow lit John’s room.

“John.” You whisper trying not to move your head in case he’s sleeping.

“Yeah doll.” He lifts his head to look at you.

“I’m so sorry.” You feel slightly embarrassed and bad that you just fell asleep on him.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sighs before standing on his feet with a groan then offering you hand to help you up.

“I’m going to shower.” He says as you dust yourself off.

“After can I give you a haircut?” He laughs a little at your not so subtle realization of his long hair..

“If you’d like.”

“I’d love.” You say before leaving, assuring him you’d be back when he's done.

You pick up your mess from the previous night. Folding your blanket and putting it back in the basket near the couch. Taking your wine glass to the sink and rinsing it out. You go to your room and change into an outfit for the day and do your morning routine. After you grab your shears, clippers and cape. By the time you're done doing all of this you no longer hear the water running meaning John’s done with his shower. You knock on his door lightly.

“Come in.” You walk in to see him sweeping up his mess with the small house broom and can’t help but smile at the sight.

“Come on, let's cut your hair in the bathroom, better lighting and you can see what I’m doing.” You say heading straight there. You sit him on the little bathroom bar stool that’s been in there since your ex moved out. Once he’s sitting the only cape you have is pink so you throw it on him begging yourself to not laugh which you fail causing him to smirk.

“Okay so I’m just gonna clean it up, fade the sides a very little, cut the top with shears and what not.” You let him know.

“You cut your hair?” He replies, staring at you through the mirror.

“Yeah so?” You smile.

“I like it, it looks good.” You feel that feeling only johns been able to provoke.

“Thankyou.” You begin the cut, slowly combing out sections making sure to be precise. He seems far more relaxed than you’d imagined as you just freely cut at the top. After the matter once you're satisfied you shave the sides a little just enough to where it looks cleaner.

“Can I do your beard and mustache?”

“You're the hairstylist, not me?” Is all he says.

So you do, very carefully, mere inches away from his face your hands hold one side of his jaw softly to trim the other side. He watches your expression intently. The way when you’re focused there’s a crease that forms between your eyebrows and your pupils blow a little wide.

“All done.” You say pulling him from his trance. You move his face with your hands really checking to make sure all is well.

“Very handsome.” You compliment before turning around to rinse your shears and put them away.

“Thank You doll.” He says examining it himself in the mirror thoroughly pleased with how well you did even though he knows you don’t cut men’s hair. He doesn’t notice you grab his beard oil from the cabinet till you're smoothing it between your hands and asking him to face you so you can rub it through the coarse brown hair. Ever the nurturer.

It feels like time apart only made you two feel closer somehow. Or maybe it’s because you wanted to be close and those feelings were equally reciprocated.

The rest of that day John had loads of paperwork to file, sign and report. So he did that, he sat in his office for long hours going through the process. The only thing that slightly lightened this burden was your voice humming in the kitchen as you cooked something. You’d stopped by and offered him some which he gladly accepted from your giving hands. Hours later you bid him a goodnight and went to bed and even then he had so much more left.

—————

The next day you catch John in the kitchen and tell him there’s something you must show him.

“So you built it all yourself?” He says as you show him your little project you did outside. There’s a thick coat wrapped around you as you don’t fully step outside to avoid slipping on the icy ground. Him though, he stands on it with no problem in what looks like military issued boots.

“Yes I did.” You say proudly despite his clear disdain.

“I missed you, even your stubbornness.” After the months John’s been through there was no point in hiding the way he was feeling.

“I missed you too.” You smile while clearly avoiding his gaze.

How had he missed this all along?

“Would you like to go out for drinks?”

“What?” You turn around to meet his eyes.

“Can I take you out for drinks?” What being mere inches away from death does to a man.

“Yeah.”

You both silently walk away trying to break the bounds of the tense pull that makes you want to gravitate towards each other. You put on something cute but also warm and slip on some brown doc martens as your choice of shoe. You do light makeup as you give yourself a pep talk.

“Only two drinks, only two drinks.” You have to tell yourself cause after two your too you.

You hear John putting his shoes on by the hallway and take in the sight of him, brown leather jacket and beanie. You’re not sure how he’s going to stay warm in that but something tells you he will.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod nervously.

“Okay, hold on, I have to do this really slow or I’ll fall.” You say stepping slowly out onto the ground below the porch stairs.

“Well come here I’ll help you.” He offers his hand. You grab it softly, swooning at the way it encompasses your own. There’s something inside of him that doesn’t even want you to risk walking on this floor but of course he also doesn’t want to push.

“Okay nice and slow.” You’re not even taking full steps, just small slides. You clutch his hand for dear life and he loves it.

“Good girl.” He says once you reach the door of his truck which he opens for you. He doesn’t let go till you sit inside then only does he slip his hand from your warm one and closes the door.

“Which pub?” You ask as he turns on the heater only for your sake.

“The one downtown near the little Italian grocer.” You know exactly which one he’s talking about. Its dim light atmosphere is cozy but fun but usually full of mainly couples.

“Mkay.” You say looking out the window at the gloomy sky realizing it just might rain.

He glances your way during the small drive, your scent of your floral perfume mixed with his of cardamom and musk is quite perfect.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, just comfy, you?” He grins at your response.

“Never been better.”

He pulls into one of the street parking spots and despite the weather the streets are full, he gets out to put coins inside the slot for time before heading to your side of the car.

“Wait, I'm scared.” You say realizing that the distance to the bar doesn’t seem to be a survivable one.

“Come on, I'll hold your hand.”

“I’ll fall regardless.”

“Want me to carry you?” He genuinely offers.

“What?” You laugh.

“Doll I’m very serious I will carry you, just get on my back.”

“What if we both fall?”

“I’m not falling, trust me.” He says turning around motions for you to get on his back.

“Okay then.” You hook your legs around his upper waist and his arms reach to tuck themselves firmly beneath your knees.

“Comfortable?” He asks. He’s sure you can hear his heart racing from the proximity you’re in.

“Very.” All your dreams of climbing this man have come true.

You shut the door as he steps onto the sidewalk. You tuck your chin in by his neck for warmth. He smells woodsy with a hint of musk, it makes your head spin.

“How are you not slipping?” You say very suspicious.

“Doll I could run on this floor with these boots on.” He answers looking slightly over his shoulder at you.

“Well don’t.” You say seriously and he laughs as he approaches the bar, opening the door and setting you softly on the floor.

He finds you both a booth in the corner and sits on the side where he can see the entire bar, very John of John.

“What do you drink?” He asks, trying to make conversation. Suddenly the air feels very intimate, almost too intimate for what he considers his old man heart.

“When I’m out, martinis.”

“Espresso?”

“Mhmm.” You’re trying your hardest to hold the eye contact he’s giving you but something about the blue in his eyes and creases on the side of them has you breaking it quicker than it started.

“I’ll be back then.” He says sliding out of the booth feeling slightly accomplished.

You sit there looking at the lively pub, how many romances are at their peak here, how many friends are having the best night of their lives, how you amongst them are finally feeling like you again.

“Here we are.” He says returning with two glasses, his is a classic bourbon with a square ice cube in the glass.

“Thankyou.” You say as he slides it over to you.

“So what’d you do while I was gone, other than be reckless and build furniture.” He asks as you sip from your glass.

“I did lots of hair, painted a bit, found new color schemes for decor and that’s kinda it, I’d ask you the same question but I fear you can’t answer.”

“Your fears are true.”

“That Kate woman, she's very pretty.” Are you a little jealous?

“Yeah she’s also very married.” He says it like he doesn’t know what you're on about.

“And also not into men.” You nearly choke on your drink and swallow hard to get it down.

“Well I was just saying.” Sure you were.

You two have small chatter as you go through drinks. You tried to offer the second round but John said no for you to just stay in your seat. He came back with thirds and you definitely were starting to feel the effects of the previous two, him though not at all.

“So you’re telling me John you as very um good looking as you are haven’t had a girlfriend in how long?”

“Eight years.” He says while being very amused with your light hearted, open attitude.

“That’s just not right.”

“No?”

“No, personally, well never mind.” You’re not drunk enough to say what you were about too.

“What about you, why no boyfriends?”

“I’m very, I would say needy I guess clingy even, I’m a double texter, someone who worries and loves too much and I think that can be overwhelming for a lot of people.” You admit.

“Don’t believe that.” He says, sounding a little annoyed.

“For the right person you could never be overwhelming.” He says looking at you intensely and this time you can’t seem to look away.

Once your third drink is finished it’s raining outside and you’re words away from trouble.

“John?”

“Yeah doll.”

“You make me feel alive again.” You admit, the alcohol has casted a pretty shade of pink on your cheeks as you lean your head on your hand and John doesn’t think he’s ever been more entranced.

“You and me both, here drink some water.” He slides it to you. You’re sweet, too sweet. He feels like if he touches you physically or emotionally he’d be tainting art.

“Has anyone told you you're very climbable?”

“It’s time for us to get going, you're quite the light weight.” He laughs offering you a hand as you slide off the booth.

He leaves a tip on the table before walking with you to the door. He has to bend far more than he normally would for you to secure yourself on his back before he’s walking outside. This time he’s walking faster because of the rain droplets that are falling hard. He seats you in the car and reaches across you to buckle you in before heading to his side.

The drive home is pretty quiet, he drives extra slowly because of the precious cargo he carries. Once he pulls back into the gravelly drive way you unbuckle and open the door as he puts the car in park.

“You don’t want to wait for me.” He asks, a little concerned.

“I got this.” You hop out of the elevated truck immediately slipping and having to grab onto the door. He walks quickly to your side laughing at the expression on your face.

“You sure do.” He says as he grabs your arm

“Oh stop it.” You say accepting the help, sliding your feet on the ice again till you get to the door. Once you get inside you groan into the toasty air.

“Thankyou for tonight John.” You say facing him once you kick your boots off. You hadn’t realized how close you were till you turned around and could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the bourbon on his breath.

“No, thank you.” He says feeling awfully captivated, hanging onto your every move. You cup his face and stand on your tippy toes, boldly yet slowly placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

He’s starstruck. Absolutely dazed at the look of mischief in your eyes, something that tells him you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

“Goodnight John.” You say patting his chest and walking down towards your room.

—————

I couldn't wait till tommorrow i'm sorry.

comments and reposts are greatly appreciated:)

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#angst #captain price x female reader #john price #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley

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ivysoul · 1 year

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♱ PROTECTOR. — simon "ghost" riley

when a random guy tries to hit on you at the bar, you’re thankful simon was there to help you.

warnings. — drunk creepo at the bar, harassment, price and gaz are oblivious but don’t get mad at them!, reader is a medic at the company but it wasn’t really mentioned.

notes. — based off of this request! thank you, lovely :) i’m not too confident in this one but whatever.

photo creds. — yumethefrostypanda.

This wasn’t usually your crowd; bar’s weren’t somewhere you spent your time at. You only really went when there was a successful mission. And it just so happened that the boys had done just that, once again. So of course, when they invited you to a bar that a few of them were well acquainted with, you couldn’t possibly say no.

That’s how you found yourself here—playing pool with Gaz and Price as the others chatted away somewhere nearby.

“Ha! I told you, Price: never fuck with me and pool. I’ll smoke you every time,” you boasted, making a dramatic bowing motion in Price’s direction.

Price rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth tugging up into an amused smirk as he brought his cue stick up on the pool table. “Okay, okay. Don’t get cocky, now.”

You stayed quiet as you watched Price line up the cue stick, silently praying on his downfall. Gaz walked up beside Price, sticking his head in his line of sight, smirking. “I dunno, Captain. Think that’s a miss, right there.”

You giggled as you watched Price straighten his back a bit before shoving Gaz to the side. “Sick of people doubting my skills,” he groaned playfully. “See who’s gonna be laughing after this.”

Just before Price takes the shot, a man walks up beside you. He stood awfully close to you, brushing his shoulder flush against yours and then putting a hand on your lower back. You look up at him, noticing the hazy look in his eyes as his gaze bore down on you. He was obviously drunk, and that added with the strange proximity made you want to move away from him, fast. Though you found yourself unable to look away from him, much less move. It was like your body was stuck. And not willingly.

As soon as the white ball collided with one of the other pool balls, you snapped out of whatever moment you were stuck in. You looked at Gaz and Price, who were too busy having a squabble about Price not making the shot to notice this man who walked up to you like he knew you.

Moving your hand to reach behind your back, you pried the man’s hand off of you, stepping back a significant amount to create distance between you two.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you spat, immediately getting a feeling of fear when his disturbing smile stayed plastered on his face. He took a step towards you and you took one more back. But when your back hit a chair, you stopped moving. “Fuck off, dude.”

He fake pouted at you. “Oh, come on… I’m much more interesting than some game of pool.”

You looked around the room to hopefully find someone who would help you. Your brain wasn’t really all there in the moment to just yell at him, instead, you were searching for someone. Someone who you didn’t even realize you were looking for specifically, until your eyes landed on him walking out of the bathrooms hallway.

“Ghost!” Within a second, Ghost’s eyes were on yours. And then on the man. You let out a relieved breath when he started making his way over to you, walking so fast you felt out of breath just watching him.

He pushed his way between you and the man and shoved him back roughly. “You okay?” he asked you. All you could do was nod.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man? We were havin’ a conversation!”

All you saw was Ghost’s fist collide with the man’s face before he was on the ground. The sharp sound of bone cracking and a loud thud as he hit the ground alerted everyone nearby, including Price, Gaz, and the others. Their eyes widened as they took in the scene, the surrounding area going far too quiet, save for the music still playing over the speakers.

It seemed like Ghost took notice of the staring eyes just as you did, as he turned and grabbed your arm to move you in front of him. He placed his hand on the small of your back, but this time you didn’t move it. He guided you two out of the bar and into the cool, night air.

“Ghost—”

“—The hell was that?” Soap asked, rushing out of the bar after you two barely a few seconds later. The others came out after him, the same look of confusion written on their faces.

Ghost looked at you, noticing the look you were giving him that pleaded for him not to say anything. He sighed, but complied. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he said, turning to the others.

“Didn’t look like nothing,” Alejandro poked.

“It was nothing.”

He furrowed his brows, obviously knowing something was wrong. They all knew something was wrong, but they didn’t push any further when Ghost thankfully shut them down.

“I’m gonna take her home,” you nodded along to what Ghost said. You weren’t sure why, honestly. But you trusted him. “I was gonna call it a night for myself anyway.”

With quick goodbyes and worried glances, you and Ghost left the bar. You made it a point to let them know that bar was now completely off limits for mission celebrations when you were in a cleaner headspace.

☆ — © saintlulls, 2023 - don’t repost, translate, or copy.

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 📁 ꒰ simon ghost riley ! ⊹˚. ♡ ꒱#this is kinda bad ??#look away if it is oml #i’m a smut writer ok this isn’t my strong suit #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #saintlulls

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cordeliawhohung · 4 months

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Hiii! I've just binged mafia Price again, as one would, and now I desperately wanna know their first time together 😍 Was it after dating some time, ot much longer or maybe right away? How did they felt? Nervous I bet, but what was anticipation like? Did he make it a planned occasion, or was it casual? Was it quick rough, or slow and sensual, or something else? Like 🤯🤯🤯 My mind's gonna blow thinking about all these. Give this girl some insight, pretty please 👉🏻👈🏻

ugh i answered an ask a few weeks ago that was sort of similar to this but about them dating and i was trying to find it to link with this post but alas, tumblr search is dog water lmfao. anyway it's been a bit since i've written something proper for him so enjoy a drabble to answer your question (:

mafia!141 masterlist

cw: alcohol, smut, mutually possessive sex, (maybe slight technical dub-con due to the alcohol but both parties are awake and aware i'm just putting this here just in case)

When John got home, he found you in the kitchen.

Quiet music hummed through the speaker on your phone as you worked on serving two big plates of food like you had predicted his arrival. You greeted him with a grin as you gestured to the food in front of you on the island, proud of your work. Its fragrant aroma was mouth watering, almost to the point he found it difficult to think about anything other than eating. Your smile was contagious and John found himself chuckling as he approached the other side of the island.

"What's all this?" he asked.

"Dinner, of course," you replied.

John scoffed slightly at his rather poorly worded question and your cheeky response. "Alright, well what's the occasion?"

"No occasion," you said. "You've been at work all day, and I felt like cooking, so..." You paused to pick up one of the plates and held it out for him to take. "Dinner!"

In the last few months that you had been staying with him, you had cooked plenty of times, but never anything quite like that. A part of you felt a little guilty for not being able to show your appreciation as much as you wanted to, for taking you in and keeping a roof over your head, but more often than not he wouldn't allow it. There were few chores he would allow you to do as a guest in his home, and if you wanted to cook or clean for him, you often had to do it under his nose when he wasn't home.

And still, instead of telling you how you didn't have to do all that, how you didn't have to waste your evening cooking a lavish meal, he took it without complaint and allowed you to lead him into the living room. That evening was full of good food, a very expensive wine that you attempted to convince John not to open but he did anyway, and an old slasher film that was more humorous than it was unsettling.

Something was different about that night. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was something else, but you seemed to smile and laugh more than you had for the last few weeks. And you were beautiful. The way the dim glow of the TV illuminated your face as you took a sip of wine, the way you laughed and pointed at the screen when one of the characters died; you were perfect.

"Thank you. For taking care of me," you suddenly spoke up.

John had stared at you for so long he didn't even realize that the movie was over, but you didn't seem to mind his unwavering gaze. Yet he was a bit confused by your sudden comment. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the truth, but he felt like he didn't deserve it.

"Your gratitude is wasted on someone like me," he muttered, eyes refusing to leave your face.

"What makes you say that?" you asked.

"I'm not a good man."

"I know."

While it wasn't the answer he expected, John was glad you knew that much about him at least. He gave you a breathy laugh as he looked down at the remaining wine left in his glass. The dark red liquid swirled around as he leaned forward to place it on the coffee table.

"How do you know?" he questioned, hoping you would indulge him.

"I've always known," you said as if it was obvious. "If you were a good man, you'd be dead by now. Good men don't live long in your line of work."

"So you've known I'm a bad man this whole time?"

The expression on your face contorted and it wasn't long before your hand rested on his arm. He didn't dare look down to where your fingers brushed against his skin because he feared you would retract if he did, like someone who didn't want to get bitten by a dog.

"You're not a bad man," you retorted as if the very thought had offended you.

"How do you know?" John challenged.

"Because you are kind."

In that moment, John swore he had always known you, and maybe he did. He had known you as the chief's daughter when he was a child. He had known you and your laughter as you sat next to him in maths as a teen. You had always been there, lingering in the back of his mind, finding him when he least expected it.

So when you leaned into him, he didn't stop you. And he didn't stop you when your hands rested on his chest, or when your lips pressed against his. In fact, he savored every moment of it. Your skin on his, your teeth sinking into his flesh; it all felt so familiar like your body was the only one he had ever held that way.

It all happened so fast he felt dizzy, but all John knew was that when he saw you laid out naked on his bed there was nothing in the world that would ever take you from him. He couldn't stop the way his lips were drawn to your chest where he kissed a gentle trail between your breasts and down to your navel. He couldn't stop the way his mouth latched onto your cunt like it was the only sustenance he would need for the rest of his life.

And it was the most love you had felt in your entire life. The way he gently pawed at your body not in greed, but because he needed you to be closer, to feel every inch of you. Every moan that left your lips was carefully fished for, and if one thing didn't work he would try another. The way he crooked his fingers inside of you and swiped his tongue over your clit was all done so carefully, only aiming to please you.

When he eventually pulled away from you, got you so worked up that your legs quaked, you wanted to return the favor. Wanted to thank him for taking you in, for treating you as well as he had, but when you tried to sit up his hand firmly kept you pinned against the mattress. He reminded you that you were under his roof. You were his to take care of.

He continued to remind you of that fact with every pump of his cock inside of you. Each thrust had you repeating his words back to him with pitched moans, how he would take care of you, how good he was to you, how you were his to take care of, you were his, you were his. By the time he emptied himself into you with a heavy grunt and a needy kiss, you knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

After that night, you only slept in his bed, and eventually it wasn't just his bed, but yours too. It happened slowly, and all at once, that he had become yours and you had become his, and yet at the same time, it was like it was never any other way to begin with.

#john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price smut #john price x reader smut #captain price smut #captain price x reader smut #mafia!141 #mafia!price #f!reader

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andrastepls · 3 months

Text

A/SMR.

synop: reader lost her hearing after an explosion, simon has an idea to help her ‘hear’ him again

warnings: none i think ? canon typical violence & loss of hearing maybe knda spicy

not proofread we die like men

Adjusting to life without sound had been a trial on its own. It was something no-one really prepared for — silly as it seemed, now. Bombs and guns going off right next to a person for any amount of time was bound to cause damage at one point or another. Or, maybe, she just had shit luck.

The blast had come and gone so quickly, she had no time to react. No one did. It missed anything vital, but it had sent her rocketing into a wall; promptly breaking her arm, a few ribs, and rupturing her eardrums all in one fell swoop. If nothing else, recovery went relatively smoothly. As smoothly as it could have, at any rate, what with Soap and Gaz being absolutely glued to the chairs in the infirmary. Even getting kicked out a few times — luckily, Price and the Lt. were a little less chaotic. Be it because the medic on-site had a soft spot, or because Simon had intimidated the poor guy, he had been allowed to spend the first two nights in the infirm with her.

Being tucked away in his arms did wonders for her anxiety, but the cot was a bit small for him alone, let alone the pair of them. Blessedly, she had been given the okay to return to her own quarters after that.

A few months later, and her bones were good and well healed, but her ears were another story. The specialist kind. The off-duty kind. The waitlist was long, and going home, alone, in the quiet, sounded like her own personal hell. So, she stayed on base to wait it out.

The silence was her enemy, deafening in its lack of any and everything. She swore she could forget the music the world made in a moment without it. It was cold, void and lonely. Missing out on jokes, not ever hearing the booming shouts and laughter of the boys. Sounds she never thought she’d miss.

It didn’t go unnoticed. For all his grumbling and brooding, Ghost was terribly good at being good company. She was thankful for him, at least. Perhaps now more than ever. He was . . . oddly tentative of her. Making a point to brush a hand against her when he was near, what was previously a hovering palm near her back was now an open-handed reminder someone was there.

He made learning to sign feel so much easier. Subbing out some signs for military signals. A natural transition, when the other person knew how to speak it — even when he didn’t need to.

It was a kindness done solely for her benefit; a fact in which he would never admit, but she knew it to be true nevertheless.

• • •

She felt out of practice. Clumsy and uncertain of herself when he touched her, nothing like herself, and he noticed. He pulls back from her, hands curving through the space between their chests to say, “You okay?”

She swallows, looking away. Embarrassment flushes her cheeks a shade of maroon, the heat of it crawling up her neck.

“It’s not you.” she signs back after a beat, eyes finding his with nothing short of pleading in her irises, “I miss you. But the sound - ”

Lithe hands flop into her lap. She feels . . . inadequate. Incomplete. Hateful, to herself, knowing that she can’t be who he loved first anymore, “I miss hearing you.” it was a cruel thing for the universe to do to her; give her a man to fall in love with, a voice that lulled her to sleep, filled her heart, tightened her legs — and then take it away from her. Leaving her in this muffled prison.

He makes a face at that - not one of ill intent or anything of the sort - rather, one of confusion. She missed hearing him?

He never thought his voice to be something worth missing; though, he quickly understands when his mind wonders what never hearing her again would be like. His girl is quieter now, to be sure. But he can still hear her - the little noises she makes, when she hums to herself without noticing . . . among other noises . . .

There’s a moment where he stays still, only his eyes moving between the two. She’s about to lift her hands so say something else, but he promptly cuts her off by taking one of her wrists between his fingers. Encouraging her to open her hand and bringing her palm up to rest around his throat.

She pauses, wide eyes blinking between their hands and his face — that frustrating little smirk of his curling his lips upward at the corners. She can’t make sense of what he’s doing at first, canting her head to the side like a confused dog, and then, he hums. The sound vibrating against her fingers. Her jaws drops open slightly in shock, eyes locked between her hand and his mouth, wanting to say ‘again’.

Alas, he was a step ahead of her, and mumbles out her name in a breath. Feeling her name in his throat before reading it on his lips.

Hm.

A/N: i dont know its 1am !!

#drabble #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x oc #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod #ghost cod #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod imagine

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chrissv4mp · 3 months

Text

bf!matt sturniolo hcs🤍

ONLY SFW!

author's note: was a little obsessed with the chris one, so.... here's some bf!matt hcs

warnings: none!

edit: i couldn't wait a whole week to post this, so it's a little present 4 u guys🫶🏼🫶🏼

_______________

🤍- HUGEEE hug guy over here!! especially hugs from behind omgg🤭 (and just any type of physical touch)

🦈- whenever his hands aren't occupied, then they're all over you / intertwined with yours.

🦈- loves whenever he has free time to cuddle with you / just spend even a minute with you. he loves your presence☹️

🤍- buys you flowers every time you come with him to the store, no matter the price of them. (even if he thinks $9.97 is entirely too much for a bouquet of roses..)

🤍- adores seeing you in his clothes.

🦈- like, you walk into the living room in one of his hoodies, "matt, do you know where my phone is?"

🦈- matt doesn't even give an answer to your question, he just continues to sit on the couch and gawk over you.

🤍- HE'S YOUR BIGGEST FAN !!

🦈- you're having an argument with a random girl from your college? he's on his way to back you up.

🦈- you're involved in sports and have an important game? he's already on the bleachers!!

🤍- he shares his airpods with you!! (best bf award goes to matthew sturniolo!!)

🤍- matt loves driving late at night and just listening to slow, quiet music with you.

🦈- he'll quite literally drive to a beach that's more than an hour away & just lay on the front of the car to watch the stars with you.

🦈- big astronomy guy over here as well! he loves the space and just stars in general. he'd geek out whenever he'd see a constellation.

🤍- the biggest sucker for forehead and neck kisses and is constantly showering you in them.

🤍- (speaking of showering....) matt loves warm showers/baths with you and will offer to help wash your hair bc he knows you hate whenever you feel a knot in it.

🦈- just imagine him running his fingers through your hair super gently & carefully untangling the little knots in your hair AGHH

🤍- whispers little 'i love you's' & praises in your ear whenever you guys are laying in bed together ☹️☹️🫶🏼

_______________

author's note: I LOVE THIS SMSMSM this might be my favorite thing i've written so far ahhhhh

#the sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #hes so babygirl #cutie patootie

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ficmashup · 3 months

Text

Gardening

Summary: Ghost is moving into a new apartment and you just so happen to be the building's owner.

A/N: First dip into writing second person (I think that's the right term?) and I'm not sure if I don't like it or if it was just difficult for me. People who've read my Price fic in first person, please weigh in here. I need to know if this sounds weird or if it's just me. I might rewrite the whole thing in first person and see which feels better.

Warnings: Not much here...overworking? Slight fainting. Not edited.

Word Count: 3k+

Masterlist

The first time he sees you, your hands are elbow-deep in dirt and there’s more smeared over your face. It’s late afternoon and he’s heaving a duffel over his shoulder to head into his new apartment. It’s been a long time since he spent long in an apartment at all and by the time he came back to his old one, the building was being foreclosed. He’d never been one to couch surf and he wasn’t about to start now. Certainly not for a month. Jump to seeing you covered in dirt in front of his new apartment building.

He hesitates on the steps, watching you a moment longer while you grumble to yourself. You’re on your knees digging through a flowerbed as if digging for diamonds. “You alright?” He surprises himself by asking and almost keeps walking with the expectation that you won’t even answer, but you turn your face up to him in an instant. Your arm raises to block out the sun and you don’t even flinch as dirt rains down on you.

“Fine, thanks. Just a few roots being stubborn.” You give him a warm, welcoming smile that keeps him still a few moments longer. Long enough for you to scan the duffel on his back and the few boxes set on the ground by his truck. “Moving in?” He hesitates a moment before answering. He’s not in the habit of giving away information freely, but the conclusion is obvious enough. He nods once.

“Then you’re Simon Riley.” You pull your hands from the dirt as if they’re the ones who have taken root and wipe them off on your jeans while getting onto your feet. Trepidation begins creeping into his chest and he grips the strap of his bag over his shoulder a little tighter. “I’m the building’s owner. Nice to meet you in person.” You offer your dirt-smudged hand as you give him your name and he laxes slightly. He takes your hand, seeing approval flash through your eyes. He wonders briefly if offering your dirty hand was a test that he just passed.

“I’ll walk you to your place and make sure you have your keys. Need help carrying anything?” You offer and it’s clear you mean it.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He replies evenly and you nod before leading the way and expecting him to follow.

“I run a tight ship. Hope you read the rules about staying here because if you break any, I’ll throw you out on your ass.” You move around the entrance easily, clearly knowing where everything is without having to look. A little glance over your shoulder is all you give him to make sure he’s listening and you catch the slight upward tilt of his lips.

“Yes, ma’am. Read over things twice.” He answers honestly and you hum with approval before guiding him up the stairs. Something about the way you hold yourself, the easy confidence, the way you say orders and expect them to be followed, reminds him of Price and puts him a little more at ease.

“You’re on the edge of the building, so only one neighbor on the north side and another across the hall. Delaney is quiet and keeps to herself more often than not, but I let her play music on the roof with friends on Saturdays.” Your voice fills the halls and he notes that the place is very well-kept and clean. Even the windows are clear and gleaming. You go on, “Mr. Cruz across the hall can be a bit miserly, but other than mumbling about the newspaper and the state of the world, he’s harmless. His wife, on the other hand, is a shameless gossip. So I hope you’re not too bothered if you come home and see her peeking at you from her door.”

Simon hums a small laugh. “Don’t mind it. I’m not that interesting.”

“Pity. She’s been dying for a salacious neighbor since Beck moved out because her husband caught her with the nanny.” You quip instantly and amusement flits through Simon as you finally come to a stop in front of a dark green door. It’s quick work to unlock it and you push the door open, but don’t step inside. He likes that. It’s as if the second he signed the lease, this became his space and you won’t enter it until invited. “If you’d like to do me a favor and need some furniture, I have some in the basement from past tenants that I’d be glad to be rid of. Tell me if you’d like to look and I’ll take you. You have my number if you need anything else, but I’m usually around anyway.”

He enters the apartment and looks around at the empty space with a small sigh. It’s a good space with plenty of room and a view of the street below, but being in a new place feels like starting over. It’s a discomforting feeling given that nothing in his life has actually changed except for his address. But he turns towards you all the same and gives you another nod. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

You nod back and spare another moment to look him over. He’s not the first stray soldier that’s wandered into your building, but each one has been different. This one…this one might take quite a bit of coaxing. You give him another smile and see his body shift towards it just like he did the last time, as if your smile is sunlight he’s basking in. “Welcome home.”

* * *

The next time he sees you, you’re crouched on the stairs in front of a kid no more than eight-years-old. “It…hurts…” The little boy says between sobs with red smeared over his right knee. Probably from a nasty fall. Simon pauses on the next flight of stairs, looking down at you through the railing.

“Aw, yeah, I know it does. You’re being brave for me though.” Your voice is soft and gentle as you clean the blood away. “Bet that wimp Eric would be wailing this whole time, huh? Remember when he stubbed his toe and screamed for a minute straight?” There’s a little giggle and his heart squeezes at the sound.

The kid sniffles. “Yeah, I remember. He fell on the ground like he broke it or something.”

“That’s right.” You approve, smiling at him and reaching to the side where a first aid kit sits. “But I saw you play baseball and you didn’t even flinch when that pitcher hit you with the ball.”

“Yeah, that’s true. And that hurt!” The kid leans back a bit, relaxing as you distract him and I idly think about how many medics I’ve seen use the same tactic on wounded soldiers.

You finish cleaning up his knee and press a large band-aid to the ripped skin. “But you were so tough then and you were tough now. All done.” You muss his hair a bit and he giggles, slapping your hand away. “Now, what are we not going to do?”

The kid’s head droops. “Sprint up the stairs.”

“Smart kid. Now, wear that scrape with honor.” You tilt his chin up and he grins, sniffling again before leaning forward and giving you a hug.

“Thanks.” He squeezes tight before getting up and heading down the stairs at a slightly slower pace than running. A wait a moment as you pack up the things from your kit before heading down. Your head lifts and you smile at me, the same as the other day, and it strikes me just like it did then.

I clear my throat and tilt my head to where the kid went. “You seem to know everyone in this place.”

You hum and stand with the first aid kit in hand. “It’s my job to know everything that happens in this building.”

He quirks a brow at you. “That’s not a position taken by most owners.”

“You should have easily learned by now that I’m not like most owners.” You quip instantly and are rewarded with a little upward twitch of his mouth.

“I was hoping you might have time to show me some of the furniture you mentioned?” He asks, unassuming and polite despite his size and clear musculature. It makes you like him a little more.

You nod and take a breath in the face of another task. “Sure. Let’s go.” You turn on your heel and start moving, Simon trailing behind with surprisingly soft footfalls. You jingle slightly with each step from the keys on your hip and he can’t help but think of a cat with a bell.

The basement is dark until you pull a heavy switch and illuminate a surprisingly large space littered with furniture. “Pick whatever you like and I’ll help you carry it up.”

“You ever stop working?” He asks and you can hear the amusement in his voice. You shrug a shoulder and lean against the wall beside the stairs as he slowly walks through the room.

“There’s always something to be done and no one else is going to do it.”

“You could hire people.”

You immediately roll your eyes. “Then I’d have to fix whatever they screw up. Better to do it myself and get it right the first time.” He exhales softly and you swear that it’s almost a soft laugh.

“You remind me of someone.” He says and pauses next to a little kitchen table with two chairs in pretty good condition.

Your head tilts and you give him a little smile as he glances over. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

This time, you get an actual chuckle. “From me, it’s a compliment.”

“Hm. Then thank you.” You’re not sure you want to know why it would be an insult coming from someone else. He knocks on the table and the wood makes a dull, solid clunk noise. He nods and apparently that means it’s passed inspection. He lifts it up into his arms with a grunt and surprise widens your eyes as he carries it towards the stairs. You clear the way, grabbing the two chairs and staring at him as he bypasses the elevator in favor of more stairs without making a sound. It’s not exactly professional the way your eyes linger on his muscular arms, the shifting of his back under his t-shirt, and especially not how his thighs fit his jeans oh-so-well.

He grunts again as he sets the table down in his apartment and you sidle in to set the chairs on either side. There’s almost nothing else in the apartment. There are a few blankets and books in the bedroom along with a few cushions on the floor of the living room facing a tv. That’s it. He certainly isn’t one to overdecorate. “Anything else?” You offer with a hand on you hip.

He nods once. “Mind another trip?”

You smile and start walking to the door. “I’d be glad to empty out my entire basement if you like. Seems like you need it anyway.” The corner of his mouth lifts.

“I suppose that’s true. I appreciate the help.” He says and his voice is deep, but gentle. You only grow more curious about him and during the few more trips up and down the stairs, you realize that this guy might need a bit more than a little help with living.

* * *

It starts slow.

A few neighbors start bringing him some food throughout the week. Leftovers, baked goods, all under the guise of welcoming him to the building. Then there’s a small flyer set outside his door for an estate sale nearby where he finds a few more things to make his apartment less sparse. It’s a tad overbearing, but in an amusing way and he finds he doesn’t mind. Something about being aggressively looked after reminds him of Soap’s family and any thought of the Scot is a welcome one. He has little doubt that the interference is due to your instruction. You run this building better than most people in charge of the military.

His favorite spot in the apartment becomes the little window seat in the living room. It has a good view of the street and without fail, he gets a glimpse of you working in the flowerbeds in the front of the building. On the nicer days, he’ll even crack the window to hear you cussing at your rosebushes. But you’re a little quiet one day, moving slow, still working amongst the thorns in jean shorts and a tank-top dark with sweat. When you stand and wobble in place, he puts down the book he was pretending to read.

You heave a breath and wipe sweat off your brow before grabbing onto the railing leading into the building. Ugh, it’s hot. The sun is beating down like a physical weight and your sunhat is currently somewhere in Delaney’s apartment after her girlfriend borrowed it. Best to just bear the expense and get another one. “You run yourself ragged.” That deep voice disturbs your thoughts and your head lifts to see Simon standing there with a water bottle held out to you.

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you gratefully accept the water and settle on the steps. “Too much to do to stop. Thank you for this.” The bottle is blissfully cold as you press it to your neck and take a deep breath of relief.

Simon moves across from you and leans on the railing, looking you over. Something you’ve noticed is how careful he is to give you space. He never comes too close. “I’ve seen you running around the building at least three times today. Once unclogging the garbage chute, the second time greasing the hinges of a door down the hall, and the third—” He gestures to rosebushes you were just digging in.

You finish drinking half the water and raise a brow at him with a teasing glint in your eye. “Keeping track of me?”

His lips part, but he’s interrupted before he can say a word. “Sweetie, my air conditioner is on the fritz again.” An older woman peeks out of the front door and Simon recognizes Mrs. Cruz from across the hall. She scrutinizes him through her big glasses before blinking innocently back at you.

You sigh, but nod. “Alright, Mrs. Cruz. I’ll be there right away.” She shuffles back into the building while you heave yourself up onto your feet and your vision immediately goes black. It almost feels like you’re outside your body as you feel it sway backward before a large hand slides onto your lower back and another grips your arm. Your hand tightens on the railing as your eyes snap open, the world swimming in front of you.

“Steady, now.” A pair of concerned eyes are the first thing you see as your vision clears. “Let’s get you inside.” He moves closer and begins to stoop, but you grab his shirt in a fist.

“You are not picking me up.” You grind out, every word a command. Not in front of your building, not by a tenant, not with Mrs. Cruz waiting inside who would assuredly spread every type of rumor she could about the scene. “Just…walk inside with me.” He hesitates a beat before straightening and letting you use his arm and the railing to get back into the building. You shoot a smile towards Mrs. Cruz waiting exactly where you expected her. “I need my tools, but I’ll be along in just a minute.”

Her eyes squint, but she nods a moment later before vanishing into the elevator. “Slowly and steadily, then.” Simon murmurs with his hands gentle and sure as he moves you towards your office in the back. You hold your tongue despite the desire to insist that you do not need help because you very clearly do. Still, you can’t hold back your heavy sigh as you both slowly walk back and he helps you settle into your office chair.

“Thank you.” You murmur, pride a little wounded but ultimately grateful you didn’t have to crawl in here. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Then I’ll head up to help Mrs. Cruz.” Your head shakes as you make yourself drink the rest of your water while taking some steadying breaths.

“Unfortunate we’re not closer to my apartment. I’d give you something one of my neighbors gifted me earlier this week.” Simon comments with amusement lacing his tone. Maybe you weren’t as subtle about filling his pantry as you thought you were.

“I ate today. Just pushed a little too hard in the heat. That’s all.”

“Mm.” He hums, watching you from the doorway with the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “A habit of yours?”

You can’t resist returning his near smile. “Practically my occupation.”

He huffs a small laugh before clearing his throat as if trying to hide it. The fact makes you smile a little wider. “I’ll get you another water, then walk with you up the stairs.”

“Oh, there’s really no need—” But he’s already walked out. You sigh again, relaxing back into the chair and closing your eyes for a few moments. Time passes, a bit too long than it should have taken, but when you open your eyes there’s another water in front of you and no Simon. You feel a bit better and rise from your seat with a groan, grabbing your toolkit and heading up to Mrs. Cruz. But it’s an utter surprise when you get to her apartment to find the usual whir of her air conditioning uninterrupted.

“That handsome man across the hall had it fixed in a few minutes. Didn’t complain or say much other than asking what the problem was.” Mrs. Cruz reports with rare approval in her voice. Mr. Cruz grumbles quietly from his usual seat in his favorite armchair. You sigh and glance out the door towards Simon’s apartment with a hand on your hip and a half-smile. Seems you’re not the only one keen to help. Whether it’s asked for or not.

(Lmk if you want to be tagged in future installments of this!)

#call of duty #cod #fluff #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x oc #f!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #my works #f!oc

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jimmy-j-james · 1 year

Text

REPLACEMENT

- M!reader x TF!141 (more so reader x Soap, platonic style)

- Proofread: Nope (Will be soon)

- Genre: Angst/Comfort (Originally wasn’t gonna be comfort, I was in an angsty mood and it shows)

- Synopsis: M!reader had to come to terms with the fact that new was better than old. Being tossed aside like an older dog when a family gets a puppy. Kicked to the curb and left alone. Of course, a certain ‘puppy’ just wanted the other’s attention and respect..

- Pt. 2

════════════════

It wasn’t uncommon for people to turn back to their roots. Of course not. But.. for a whole group to regress to the mindset of a child? “Out of sight, out of mind.”, that’s what they say, right?

How stupid did he have to be to not notice? He noticed the first day it started. Soap was happily welcomed to the team, treated with such care and love despite his recent joining. And, much to his disliking, he was left alone.

No one was checking in on him anymore, instead all attention went to the new guy. ‘He wasn’t special’, he’d bitterly think, ‘I was alone too’. Not that anyone cared though, of course not, he was perfectly able to handle himself after all. Instead, they paid mind to their new young and foolish sergeant.

It didn’t end there either. His daily encounters with Ghost were stolen, being replaced with Soap. Training with Gaz? Soap was there instead of him. Smoking with Price? He was there too.

It never ended. And the breaking point, as foolish as it was, was the moment he headed to the mess hall for lunch. The teams regular booth was filled, only his spot taken by the rookie.

He knew it was childish. He could have easily dragged a seat over, but it seemed that no one noticed his lack of appearance anyways. He took it as a word from above. He was better off alone.

He didn’t need them anyways. He was perfectly fine with this new routine. Perfectly capable of fending for himself.

He started avoiding them. Removing himself from their lives as if he’d never been there. His schedules shifted, eating within his room, and locking himself away. He trained late at night to avoid others, slept during his moments of free time.

His new habits proved awful for his mind and body, but they worked. Seemingly so, no one even noticed he was gone. They lived their lives with the new guy. Replaced and forgot him with so much ease it hurt.

It felt suffocating. Knowing the people he thought of as family, felt nothing of similarity. It had him wondering so many things. Thoughts he wouldn’t wish upon his greatest enemies.

It never ended. And irregular habits went to unhealthy in a matter of days. He stopped eating as much. Barely slept. Trained until failure in all aspects.

He took everything out on himself. A shell of a man that used to be. It got to the point that he was without care. Life didn’t seem to matter in the case of ‘life or death’.

In his eyes, death had never seemed so welcoming. Like the arms of a loving parent. Coaxing the words of admiration in a tempting manner.

In a blind sighted manner, he craved the release his demise promised. The satisfaction of feeling wanted, no matter what called upon him.

Perhaps, this is the fate he was meant for? He proved his worth, and was denied any sense of reward. But maybe, maybe death was rewarding enough.

Awaiting his chance of freedom, he lied on his bedroom floor. His phone lied idly, playing music he chose to ignore over his own taunting beliefs.

“Sergeant (l/n)?” That voice, one he’s grown to mindlessly hate, calls through the door. It’s followed by a hesitant knock. “Team’s goin’ out drinkin’, thought ya would wanna come..”

It’s clear by his tone that he’s hesitant, or at most anxious. Likely forced down here by the pity of the other’s.

Perhaps if he remained silent the Scotsman would leave him alone. Lowering the volume of his phone and keeping quiet.

“I.. I know yer in there, if it’s worth anythin’ to ya..” The moment is awkward, but he refuses to give up his moments of peace for a pity party. “Ya don��t have to.. just thought it might be awfully lonely in there.”

“Rather not.” He doesn’t even remember allowing himself to speak, body against mind as he shuffles up to sit.

“Oh..” Another awkward minute of silence. “Is it ‘cause o’ me? I didn’t mean to upset you, however I did so..”

“Don’t you have a ‘party’ to get to?” His tone is bitter in reply, though his truth is sorrowful.

“Ay… can I,” He pauses to hesitate “can I come in?”

The man pauses his self pitying, turning to face the door behind himself. He’s sure the boy would have left by now, though he’s proven determined.

Soap feels awkward, shifting weight between legs as he stands on the other side. The door opens, slowly, but surely, revealing the mess of a man before him.

It’s hard to hide his grimace, scanning over his mutual sergeant with concern. He’s thinner, and paler, with heavy bags beneath his eyes. No expression is shown on his face. A hollow show of what used to be.

“You…” Soap cuts himself before he can speak, though it’s clear the other understood.

A frown tugs lightly at his lips, biting against the skin of his cheek as he avoids the Scots eyes. “Yeah.. whatever…”

“Do.. do ya want to watch a movie?” The request is simple, but proves to be shocking as the other snaps his eyes to Soap’s.

“Aren’t you meant to be drinking tonight?” He muses, expecting the sergeant to remember and run along.

Instead, Soap pushes his way into the room and breathily chuckles. “They ‘on’t need me.” He replies, taking a seat on the messy bed.

There’s a smile on his face as he watches Soap, whether he knows it or not, he’s happy. For once more in his life, he feels wanted. Soap chose his presence over the team’s.

“Can.. can we watch Ratatouille? It’s dumb.. but I always watch it when ‘m upset..” He’d mutter, shutting the door before dropping himself down on the bed.

Soap’s smile grows soft, something he’d yet to seen in the boisterous Scot. “O’ course we can. I’ll get us some snacks, fancy anything specific?”

“Anything works..” He mumbles softly, rubbing against tired eyes as he sets up the movie on his laptop. Soap nods, leaving for the commons room before returning.

Within his arms he carried varieties between chips, candies, and beverages. A goofy smile on his face as he sits himself back beside the other.

With the movie started, and a share of snacks between them, he grows rather exhausted. His eyelids droop and his attention shifts blank. Without thought his head drops against Soap’s shoulder.

The Scot welcomes the other, smiling softly as he shifts them both to lie more comfortably. He was glad. Glad to see that his newly favourited comrade was growing relaxed in his presence.

Like a new puppy and an older dog. Soap worked to grow close to the man he looked up to, and the other worked to better accept the Scot’s company. But, despite their differences, they grew to form a pack, in a sense.

════════════════

do not copy/paste, claim as your own, post on different sites, or translate without prior consent from me

#cod x male reader #john mactavish #soap x male reader #john mactavish x male reader #soap mw2

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unreliablesnake · 1 year

Text

Animals (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)

Summary: Ghost hates you. But he's also slightly obsessed with you. This duality leads to an encounter that satisfies his needs, but only releases the beast inside.

Note: Based on this poll and Maroon 5's song Animals. I hope you'll like this. Tell me what you think.

Part 2

Warnings: toxic!Ghost, afab!reader, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroat, unprotected sex, etc. MINORS DNI!!!

You ending up in the 141 was a punishment. Well, at least it felt like it. Every time you moved, you felt Ghost's darkened eyes following you suspiciously, making sure you didn't do anything stupid, anything that could compromise the task force.

You had worked together in the past, before this team was even assembled, and you went against his order on that mission. He was fucking pissed, refusing to talk to you because otherwise he would have yelled at you without stopping. He didn't tell you why exactly he was mad, after all the mission was a success despite your disobedience.

And now he held a grudge, making you uncomfortable with the heavy silence whenever you were left alone somewhere. You tried to avoid him, desperately clinging to the other members of the team to be saved, but somehow he always found a way to make you feel like shit.

"Behave out there," he once barked as he looked over at you gearing up before leaving the base.

That was all he said. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Price give him a disapproving look, but that didn't seem to bother him. He just returned his attention to his vest, checking if everything was in place. Soap asked him why he was so mad, but Ghost ignored him.

Under the quiet surface the lieutenant was fuming from anger, feeling desperate now that he had to babysit you on the field. He had tried to convince Price to let you work with him and Gaz, hoping this way he would have to spend as little time with you as it was absolutely necessary. But it didn't work and he was stuck with you.

You were annoying, and reckless, and disobedient, but god damn it, you were so hard to resist. A deeply hidden part of his brain was craving you, flashing images of you being naked in his bed, whimpering pathetically as he fucked you.

It was excruciating, having these opposite feelings for you. One half hated you and would have given everything to be able to cut you out of his life entirely, while his other half wanted to own every inch of you.

When the mission was over, things returned to normal. You went home, relieved to be able to spend some time away from his judging eyes. You went to a beauty salon to have your hair done, you did some grocery shopping, and once you got back to your apartment, you cooked yourself a delicious meal.

It was such a nice change, just sitting at the dining table with the plate in front of you, a glass of wine waiting for you to drink it, and your favorite playlist playing in the background. Nights like this you considered quitting, giving up your current lifestyle to have a relatively normal life. Maybe you could finally have a stable relationship, something more meaningful than a string of one-night stands.

Later you poured yourself another glass of wine and went to the living room, getting lost in the rhythm of the music your body swayed to without thinking. You were having fun on your own, for the first time in months feeling good in your skin. No evil glares, no rude comments. Only the safety of your home.

What you couldn't know was that you weren't completely alone. From down the street, Ghost was watching you, his phone's camera focusing on you before snapping some photos. Photos he would store on a safe drive at home, hidden in secret folders along with the hundreds if not thousands of pictures he had taken of you in secret.

He wondered if you knew everyone could see you in nothing but your lingerie, a piece of clothing that wrapped around your skin so perfectly that the sight made his mouth water under the mask.

Ghost was the predator and you were his prey, the innocent little animal having no idea that a beast like him was stalking her. If you knew, you would probably run and hide, but he would find you, after all he could smell your scent from miles.

When you turned off the lights and probably went to bed finally, he went home as well and spent the rest of the night lying awake in bed, thinking about you with his hand tightly wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly as he imagined finally having you the way he wanted.

The next day he was in front of your apartment again, knowing perfectly well you had only gone to a bakery across the street to get something for breakfast. While on a mission about a year ago, around the same time his twisted obsession with you had begun, he stole your phone and installed a software to keep track of your whereabouts.

He hated himself for feeling this way about you, he despised this primal need to have you pinned under his body. It was all so vulgar, so obscene that he tried not to think about it when he was on a mission. But when he was home? Then he would let his needs loose, which usually ended up with him following you around.

Today was shopping day. You went to buy some clothes apparently, and while he waited for you outside the stores, Ghost couldn't help but imagine the way you undressed in the fitting room. He wished he could see you strip for him, slowly getting rid of your clothes, taking them off one by one before throwing them into a corner.

You met a friend for lunch, the two of you chatting casually about their relationship issues, even gossiping about friends you both knew. Who dated who, who had a new job, plastic surgery, family issues, and so on. It was all so normal that you couldn't thank them enough for their time.

What you didn't talk about was work. Your job, specifically. The tiring months away from home, the constant sense of danger, the sleepless nights in uncomfortable cots and beds, and the disappointed looks you constantly got from your superior.

Because Ghost was always in the back of your mind, the look he gave you whenever his eyes landed on you engraved in your brain. It was suffocating you, giving you barely enough time to fully relax. Alcohol could help, but you didn't want to turn yourself into an alcoholic just to get through the day.

After you got home you began to binge-watch rom-coms from the early 2000s, completely forgetting about time along the way. You were only snapped out of this sweet haze when your doorbell rang, reminding you that people outside this apartment existed.

Your good mood evaporated the moment you opened the door and found yourself looking at Ghost's tall frame, his tattooed forearm resting on the doorframe as he looked down at you. You opened your mouth to say something, to find out what in the hell he was doing there, but no sound left your throat.

The lieutenant had enough of waiting and simply let himself in, pushing you out of the way to enter. As he had sat in the cafe across the street about an hour ago, keeping an eye on the main entrance of the building, Ghost thought about what to do with you.

"We need to sort things out," he announced when you closed the door and slowly dragged yourself closer to him.

You froze like a deer in the headlights, your big beautiful eyes slowly blinking at him as if you didn't understand a word he said. Then he noticed a glint in your eyes, as if you'd just woken up from a dream.

"Get the fuck out of my place. We'll sort this out when we're on a mission," you said angrily, your voice surprisingly stern as you spoke.

You were confident now, okay. He could handle that. He could sure as hell fuck this confidence out of you. Without hesitation he pushed off his mask then put a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into a messy and hungry kiss. You tried to resist, to push him away, but he only used his free hand to stop you from squirming around.

In a matter of short minutes you stopped resisting him, giving up your common sense and giving in to the need he knew you also felt. It had to end this way, there was no other ending to your story. When he gently bit your lower lip, a deep moan escaped your throat, a sound that only made it harder to behave.

"I hate you," you breathed between kisses.

It was okay. He didn't need you to love him or even like him. What he felt wasn't love. It was lust with a hint of some dangerous obsession, something he simply couldn't control. "The feeling's mutual, love. But let's be honest, you're enjoying it just as much as I do."

And damn it, he was right. His kiss, his touch was intoxicating, making you feel so good in such a short amount of time. When he asked you where the bedroom was, you immediately told him, this time obeying him without thinking.

He undressed you, taking away each piece of clothing with care, his fingers exploring the skin they had been hiding all along. When you were standing in front of him completely naked, he ordered you to lie down on the bed with your head hanging down over the edge. Deep down you knew what he wanted to do, and it made you excited.

As you got into position, he quickly undressed himself, revealing his hard, throbbing cock that made your mouth water. You were a little worried, having no idea if his length would fit into your mouth, and already knowing your jaw would hurt after this. But you wanted to do it, you wanted him to use your mouth and throat like a fleshlight.

And Ghost was more than happy to give you what you were waiting for, he also needed this to ease the excitement that was slowly killing him. He took his cock in his hand, stroking it a few times to cover it with his pre-cum before reaching out with his free hand to pry your pretty mouth open. "Open up, baby," he told you.

You obediently did what he ordered, and he slowly pushed the head between your lips, at first just warming you up with small thrusts. But then he dived in deeper, going until the tip reached your throat, making you gag a little.

That didn't stop him, though, he kept fucking your mouth without hesitation. "Fuck, you're such a good little slut, taking my cock like this," he groaned, his hand stroking your cheek. Once he knew you relaxed enough to take him so well, he reached out to tease your cunt, brushing it with his palm, enjoying the wetness that covered his hand.

You could feel the tears form in your eyes as he kept going, wondering how long you would be able to have him in you without feeling your jaw being too sore for it. But when he touched you, all of your doubt disappeared, giving space to the need to have his long fingers inside you, fucking you on both sides.

When he finally began to pump his fingers inside you, you moaned against his cock, a sound that made him groan. "You like it? I can do this all day to you, sweetheart," he said, out of breath. He was close, you could feel it, but you weren't too far behind thanks to his experienced fingers.

It was embarrassing to even think about this happening to you. It wasn't the sex that bothered you, more that it was him from all people. Ghost hated you, you knew he had been honest when he told you that, and you weren't lying either. But this was different, this was so dirty and primal, something you definitely wouldn't tell anyone.

Something that shouldn't happen again.

But now you enjoyed it. You loved to feel his cum on your face when he came, while your juices were dripping out of you, covering his fingers that kept fucking you through your orgasm.

When he was done, he went to the bathroom to get a towel so he could clean your face, an act that was surprisingly tender. He kept telling you what a good girl you'd been, how much he enjoyed having you like this. "It's probably the tension between us. Hate sex suits us," he offered a possible explanation with the hint of a smile.

It didn't take him long to get hard again, and he picked you up like a ragdoll and tossed you into the position he wanted you to be in for him. Ass in the air, resting your weight on your forearms. That's what he wanted, admiring the view of your cunt that was still glistering from the remains of your high.

He couldn't hold himself back, he simply couldn't wait to let you get used to his girth, to slowly and carefully stretch you for himself. Instead he pushed all of length inside with one thrust, the tip reaching your cervix and drawing a pathetic cry out of you. He loved this sound, it only made him go on harder, soon picking up a steady pace.

His hands were gripping your hips so tightly that you just knew it would leave a bruise behind, but you didn't mind, not as long as he made you feel this good. He was pushing you close to your limit, testing how much you could take without breaking.

Your forehead hit the mattress, teeth sinking into your hand to bite back your moans, for some reason thinking you had to be quiet because of your neighbors. But Ghost wasn't fond of the muffled noises apparently, because he reached out to pull your head away from your hand. "I wanna hear you, love," he said quietly.

His breathing suddenly changed, a telltale sign that he was close to his own climax. He put one hand on your stomach, and another arm around your neck to pull you up against his chest, his pace never slowing, his thrusts just as deep as before.

You were lost in the sensation, your brain not functioning properly anymore as you let him use you as some filthy fucktoy. Ghost knew what he was doing, and he could certainly read your body language perfectly well to know what you did and didn't like. Whenever he got too rough, the chokehold he had you in becoming too tight for you liking, he eased up.

But when he came, filling you with his cum in the company of a series of deep growls and groans, he reached down to rub your clit, making sure you climaxed as well. You threw your head back against his shoulder, looking him in the eye as you came down from your high.

Your body went limp, and if he hadn't held you tightly, you would've fallen face first into the mattress. "Are you okay?" he asked you quietly, placing a kiss on your head.

You mumbled something under your breath, but it didn't make any sense. You couldn't speak, not yet. This was more intense than anything you'd ever experienced, your brain definitely needed time to catch up with your body.

"Hey, are you listening?" When you didn't answer, he began to laugh. "Damn, I really fucked you brainless, didn't I?"

Ghost couldn't hide his smile, satisfied to see you in this state, feeling proud that he could achieve his goal. You weren't cocky or confident anymore, you were just a brainless meat sack, with no coherent thoughts in your brain.

Not long after this you fell asleep, and Ghost used this time to take a look around your apartment. He checked your clothes, surprised to find so many beautiful dresses in your closet, along with some sexy lace bras that you definitely didn't wear on missions. Then he went to the living room where he found photos on the shelves, probably ones with your family on them.

Your phone was on the coffee table so he checked that as well, glad to know your password. He went through your emails and instant messages to see who you were talking to, and he became furious when he saw your Tinder dates messaging you, asking for another meeting.

That was more than enough for him, he simply gathered his things and left without waking you or leaving a note behind. He needed time to calm down, preferably far from you. While he still hated you, still wished he could get rid of you forever, that stupid obsessed part of him was still there in the back of his mind, making him feel jealous.

When he returned home, he connected his secret drive to his laptop to go through the photos and videos he stored on it. Fucking you wasn't enough apparently, his mind kept returning to you, the need to keep an eye on you coming back without a warning.

With a sigh he checked the app on his phone the next evening, noting that you were in some bar near your apartment. You probably went there with a friend, but something told him it could just as well be some guy that was sending messages to you. He had to go there and see it for himself. If he didn't, he wouldn't be able to sleep that night.

Weeks passed without you hearing from Ghost. You still thought about him, feeling disgusted that you actually liked the way he fucked you that day. But now that you were going on another mission, you began to wonder what things would be like between you now. Would he be nicer to you finally? Would he at least give you some credit?

In the end none of this happened. When you met again, you were greeted by his cold, dead eyes, his words sounding harsher than ever before. You overheard Soap telling about this to Gaz, and the two men began to wonder how long it would be before Price stepped in. They were right. The captain wasn't fond of this kind of behavior, especially not when it was a lieutenant treating his own sergeant like this.

"You stay put," Ghost told you when you began to get out of the car.

You looked over at Soap with a questioning look, but he only shrugged in response, having no idea what was happening. "Why?" you asked your superior.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly with closed eyes to calm himself. "Because I said so. Stay in the car and don't move."

"Lt., we need all the help we can get out there," Soap tried as he walked around the car and stopped next to the other man. "Just let her come with us."

But he didn't listen, only shut the door in your face and signaled the Scot to follow him. You didn't know why he had to be like this with you. Apart from that one time you had disobeyed him, you never gave him a reason to treat you like this.

Ghost's blood pressure had to be off the charts as he walked away from the car. Soap kept talking, trying to convince him to let you join them, but he didn't give in. He couldn't give in. His mixed feelings for you couldn't cloud his judgment. He was your higher up, he had every right to tell you what to do.

Even if that need probably came from the frustration he felt whenever he followed you around outside of missions. There he couldn't talk to you, couldn't tell you what to do, where to go, who to talk to. Nothing. He had absolutely no control over your life.

Fuck. So his decision really did come from those mixed feelings. Price had noticed something was wrong between the two of you a long time ago, and he warned him before leaving the base that day. "Treat her right. I don't want unnecessary tension in the team," he said.

Letting out a sigh, he turned to the sergeant. "Soap, go back for her. I hope she won't fuck this up for us this time," he said, hoping he would pass this message on.

"Aye, sir," the Scot said with a smile. "I'll be right back with her."

Ghost truly hoped he wouldn't regret this. You were distracting him, especially since he finally had to chance to sleep with you. He had withdrawal symptoms that were getting worse by each day, reminding him that you were like a fucking drug that he couldn't get out of his mind.

No. Focus. He had to focus. Shit. Why was this so hard all of a sudden?

"What changed your mind? Suddenly remembered that I'm part of the team?" you asked when you and Soap caught up with him.

Turning to you, the lieutenant gave you a sharp look. If he ever had the chance to fuck you again, you would definitely pay for this question. Just one chance. That's all he wanted to correct your behavior.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #modern warfare ii #modern warfare #mw2 #call of duty #ghost smut #simon riley smut

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soggyriceee · 8 months

Note

Hey girlie!! So I saw the “I’m fine” one you did with Captain price and I absolute loved! (u’re so creative, it’s impressive) anyway I wanted to ask if you could do something similar for König maybe?

Like how it went after “strawberry” please 🫶🏻

im fine | Konig

summary: request

lowkey sub Konig but like.. he’s topping??? oral(f!recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v, both of you guys are some horny desperate fucks

Konig hadn't touched you for a while. it was becoming more he was scared of you than just not interested in having sex. he wouldn't cuddle you, not unless you explicitly asked. even then he was always tense and sort of standoffish about it. he rarely kissed you, scared he'd grab you for a kiss a way that scared you or made you uncomfortable. he was genuinely scared of you and scared of hurting you.

but you hated that. it made you feel like had you not passed out and said that word, you guys would be good now. but it was too late. the trauma from that night sticking with both of you. and Konig wasn't trying to make it that way. he did often kiss you but very quickly, he would hold your hand but very loosely. hugs were spread thin. he was so upset with himself still, he hadn't realized his distance was disturbing you.

so tonight you had decided to have a sit down conversation with him about it. because you needed more than what you were getting. it was affecting the relationship and your own anxiety tremendously. you needed his touch, romantically ad sexually. it had literally been three months.

you had been on the phone with your friend about this for a while, shopping for dinner tonight. " I think its good to open up about that to him. in my opinion sex plays a major role in a healthy long lasting relationship." she said as you stepped up to the self checkout POS. "I know.. im making a really nice dinner tonight hopefully it will get him to listen more. do you think that'd work?" you asked, tapping your, well his, card.

your friend was extremely supportive of your communication with him about your sex life. she didnt understand the concept of being with one lover. often times she blamed it on her parental issues. but despite her lack of understanding for that, she always tried to give you the best, most logical advice she could. "I think whatever you do, this man will listen to you. I dont think you need to cook a whole meal, but it could help. but hold on, one of my hookups are calling." and quickly the call ended.

the drive home was silent for you. your usual music now paused. you were too caught up in thinking the night over, you were manually driving at this point. you hadn't even fully processed that you were pulling into your driveway until you saw your neighbor wave at you. you smiled, giving a small wave back as you put the car in break.

as you stepped into the house, bags in hand, the house was pretty quiet. Konig was awake when you left, cleaning the kitchen since you had done the shopping. you placed the bags on the kitchen floor, looking around the spacious house for your tall boyfriend. but he wasn't in sight.

instead of putting the groceries away, risking the ice cream melting in the bag, you made your way upstairs, looking at the photos of you an Konig on different vacations you took together. as you reached the bedroom, you heard what would usually turn you on, but this time made you panic. you heard Konigs moans. and another woman.

now, of course, this is a heart stopping moment for anyone. whether it was just porn and physically another woman, he was getting off to another woman. and maybe thats just the thoughts forming from how distant Konig's been recently. but you felt like throwing up in that instant.

but when you softly pushed the door open, your anxiety somewhat smoothed out. the more you opened the door, the more it sounded like you. as the door opened enough for you to see Konig, you were meet with one of the most unholy sights.

on the bed, Konig had his head thrown back, whimpers leaving his slightly parted lips. as you moved down his body, you took into mind the sweat on his neck, his slightly shaking legs and curled toes. and while all of the was hot to you, what was most appealing about this scene was what was in his hands. in his left held his phone, an old video of him pounding into you missionary, focusing on your boobs bouncing up and down as he thrusted into you. in his right h however, was a pair of your red laced panties, his hand moving them up and down his cock.

you let out a quiet whimper at the scene, watching as his hand picked up speed as your voice in the phone cried out "im cumming". it was a bit embarrassing to hear yourself play back, but you didnt care about that. you were too focused on Konig. "m-me too like.. cum with me" he groaned out in response to you in the video, his hips bucking up. as soon as you came in the video, he came too. his hand dropped his phone, gripping onto the sheets instead as his cum covered your panties, some of it seeping through the thin cloth and onto his chest or thighs.

his breath was shaky, eyes slowly opening from the high. he hadn’t realized you in the door yet, so this was your time to escape. but of course, with your luck and horrible timing, your alarm for your birth control went off. you both jumped, your body shifting backwards to leave the room but tripping over your self in the hurry, falling to the floor. “i-i’m so sorry i j-just heard something and wanted to see what it was i -“

Konig quickly stood from the bed, pulling his pajama pants up and walking over to you. “no i’m sorry i shouldn’t have- i should have heard the car.” he lifted you up, walking you to the bed. “is your foot okay? did you land on it weird?” he asked softly, kneeling down to take your shoes off and examine your ankle. “no.. i’m okay.” you replied.

it was silent for a moment, his hand wrapped around your ankle even though he was done checking on you. but after a bit it got uncomfortable and you decided to talk first.

“do i not satisfy you anymore?” you blurted out, swallowing the tears and lump in your throat. his head shot up, shaking it quickly. “no no i just.. i don’t know. everytime i imagine me making a move i get scared you’ll push me away or remember what happened last time and.. i don’t know.” he said, looking down.

again silence filled the room. “i wouldn’t push you away, Konig. it was an accident. and we talked it out the same night. but don’t you see the effect it’s had on us? we barely even kiss now.” you said, looking at his lowered head. “i know.. im sorry libe. i just don’t want to hurt you again.”

he finally looked up at you, head resting on your thigh. his fingers danced up your opposite inner thigh, maintaining eye contact. a blush spread across your face, looking away from him. “what?” he asked softly, stopping right before your clothes pussy. you looked back at him, swallowing. “j-just been a while since you touched me like that. a bit nervous.” you chuckled.

he hummed softly before shifting, his head raising from your thigh. “lay back for me.” he said, raising the dress up your body to your hips. before you could respond, you were gently pushed down, Konigs other hand on your hip. “this is me apologizing.” he said before disappearing between your thighs.

his fingers curled around your panties, pulling them down to your ankles. grabbing either one, he rested them on his shoulder before leaning down, connecting his lips to your pussy. gasping, you closed your eyes.

his tongue ran up and down your slit slowly, circling gently at the clit every time. he moaned into your pussy, hands finding your hips and gripping them firmly. he pulled your clit between his lips, sucking gently as he mixed his saliva and your wetness together. “f-fuck Koni~” you whined, fingers finding his hair.

he groaned at that, using it as motivation to keep fucking your pussy onto his face. “missed this pussy so much mien libe.. tastes so fucking good.” he groaned, moving your hips against his face. his tongue moved around to spell his own name over and over, claiming your pussy as his. but that was a given.

while his tongue abused your swollen clit, his hand snuck under your thigh, allowing two of his long, slim fingers to slide into your cunt. gasping, your back arched slightly off the bed. “y-yes Koni just like that.” you cried out, pulling him deeper into your pussy.

his fingers moved in a “come here” motion in your warm pussy, his tongue still spelling his own name on your clit. your legs slightly raised from off his shoulders, toes curled as he fucked his fingers in you faster.

Konig was so painfully hard at this point, his tip leaking pre cum all over. he was breathing heavy in your pussy, motivated to keep going more and more. “keep going baby.. i’m so close.” you cried, opening your eyes finally to look down at him. he heard you, just was too lost in your pussy to even respond.

your slick covered his fingers, making a light sloppy sound as he pushed them in and out. “hear that libe? pussy is so wet for me. my poor baby needed this so bad didn’t she?” he cooed, opening his eyes to look up at your face, your mouth slightly opened and eyes rolled back. you couldn’t even respond to him, you were too focused on the orgasm coming quick and fast.

your stomach twisted and your pussy clenched around his fingers and he knew you were close. your legs shook a bit more, hands moving to the sheets. “coming Koni i-i’m coming.” you cried, feeling your orgasm shake your whole body.

now since you and Konig hadn’t had much of a sexual life, this orgasm shook your whole body anew. your eyes rolled back, his name rolling off your tongue loudly as your orgasm sprayed on his face. he chuckled, dragging his tongue flat against your pussy. “yea libe that’s it. keep coming for me such a good fucking girl.” he groaned, slowing his fingers down inside your pussy.

your body rested flat on the mattress, legs still shaking gently as you came down from your orgasm. Konig stayed between your legs, licking up the last bit of cum around your pussy. “you taste so good maus.. wanna sample?” he smirked, raising his body to press his lips against yours.

as you both made out, his hands gripped the back of your thighs, pushing them up. his hips humped against yours, feeling his cock press against your pussy. the kiss was deep, passionate. his hand snuck around the side of your neck, gripping it firmly as his tongue danced with yours.

“please Koni.. need you.” you whimpered, thrusting your hips up to meet his. he smirked, pulling away from your lips as a line of saliva connected you both. “i know libe.. need you too.”

he stood, pulling his sweats down to reveal his fully hard cock, tip bright red as pre cum leaked from the tip. his hand gripped it, pumping it while he looked at your shiny pussy. “think it’s ready for me libe? think this tight cunt can take it?” he asked, rubbing his leaking tip against your already wet pussy. you whined, moving up to try and get him to slide even the tip in.

he looked down at you, slapping his cock against your pussy. “want it that bad libe? take it. go on.” he said, repositioning the way he was standing, resting his hands on your knees as your legs were already on either side of his waist.

your hand reached down, pulling him gently into your pussy. he huffed out, gripping your knees as a small gasp left your lips. “oh fuck.” he groaned, closing his eyes as he bottomed out in you. your hips connected, his tip hitting your womb entrance. “come on then.. fuck me.” you said confidently, looking up at him.

he chuckled, looking down to you as his hands slid down your legs to your hips. he slid all the way out your pussy before pushing back in, both of you letting out a whimper. “are you okay?” he asked, sliding back out. you gave him a quick nod, looking up at him. “don’t be a pussy.. come on. fuck me.” you demanded.

he grinned , pushing back in before finding a steady deep pace. your hands found his forearms, gripping them tightly as he plundered into your pussy, sliding in and out with ease. his head threw back, mouth falling open. “missed this pussy so much libe.. takes my cock so well doesn’t it.” he moaned, nails digging into your skin.

“yea? y-you love this pussy h-huh?” yoh moaned, clenching around him. he whimpered a yes, looking down at you. “so much libe.” he whined, picking up the pace slightly. his tip brushed against your womb, making your eyes roll back. konig raised one of his legs, resting his knee on the mattress as he lifted your hips up slightly. of course, this new angle only made the both of you louder.

“fuck it’s so good Koni” you whined, your fingers moving down your body to your swollen clit again. he was so lost in your pussy once again, he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

in fact, his mind was so full of your pussy, he hadn’t even realized how close he actually was to filling you up. “s-so close.. gonna fill this tight pussy up.” he moaned, looking down at you. you both made eye contact, only adding to the sexiness of the moment.

from impulse, your hand reached up to his throat. and this surprisingly got a positive reaction from Konig. “fuck libe.. your so fucking hot. g-gonna make me cum.” he moaned, pounding into you faster. as his hips moved faster against yours, you both felt your orgasms taking over.

“come in me Koni.. please.” you whined, gripping his throat harder. as you did so, his legs shook slightly, feeling all his come shoot out into you. “fuck come on me libe.. c-cum on me please.” he whined, body collapsing over your. his hips kept the pace just enough for you to cum over him as well, body shaking beneath him as your grip on his throat loosened.

both of you laid their peacefully, panting as your orgasms came and went. your eyes shut closed and the last thing you were able to hear from Konig was

“i love you more than i can express.”

aghhhh i hope you all liked this one xoxoxoxoxo

#cod #call of duty fan fiction #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #konig #konig fanfiction #konig smut #konig x reader

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skelnexswriting · 1 year

Text

Always Come Back to You

Pairing | John Price x reader

Warnings: Fluff, Price coming home, Fem reader, civilian reader, slightly shorter story, no use of y/n.

Summary: After being away from home for months, price finally got some time off. He decides to surprise you, not telling you he’s coming.

A/n: Hope you enjoy!

Some relationships were hard. Especially when your lover was off someone across the country or even the world.

It was difficult rarely seeing John. Especially when the line of work he does is so dangerous. The thought of him being killed lingered in the back of your mind.

You knew he could take care of himself but you still couldn’t help to worry.

Communication was also hard since the both of you were busy. You having to work and him half the time fighting.

It was definitely hard, but the two of you made it work.

Little did you know, price was already on his way home. The task force was blessed with some time off after the recent mission.

Price was more than happy. The team even teased him about it.

…

After Laswell informed the 141 price practically jumped out his seat. Soap wad the first to tease gim

“Woah there price, excited to see the missus?”

“You have no idea sergeant. Now if you excuse me, ill be gathering my things.”

Before anyone could say anything price wad already out the room and across the hall.

…

He’d been waiting for something like this for a while. Its been about two months since he was home. He always felt guilty for leaving you alone for that long but he was also grateful for how well you always took it.

Price had to stop himself from calling you to tell you as he wanted to surprise you.

And now that he was only 20 minutes away from home was like a dream. He almost felt nervous like he was driving to take you on that first date all over again.

…

The drive to the house seemed faster than usual. (probably because he was speeding…) Once your shared house came into view he felt his heart swell.

This was home. He was actually home.

He quickly parked the car, trying to be as quiet as possible. He didn’t want to ruin the surprise just yet. He got to the door, slowly unlocking and opening it.

Soft music filled the house, along with a soft hum coming from your lips. The house was the same as when he left. Clean with the smell of you. He’d become so used to the loud, busy base he almost forgot how tranquil his actual home was.

He gently set down his bags and continued making his way into the home. You weren’t in the kitchen nor the living room. So he figured you were probably in your office.

And just as he figured there you were.

The sight before him took his breath away.

There you were in all your beauty. Hair lazily put out your face, with the exception of the front pieces. His shirt, much too large, swallowing your figure with some bright pajama pants to pull it all together.

He couldn’t be happier than right now. You could be covered in dirt and mud and you’d still be the loveliest woman he’s ever laid eyes on.

You had you back turned to him as you we’re tidying up a few things on the shelf.

John carefully creeped over, wrapping his arms around your waist once he did. He heard you gasp softly before you realized it was him and relaxed.

But suddenly you stepped away, seemingly realizing it was him!

“John!!”

You practically jumped in his arms, tightly wrapping your arms around his neck. In return he wrapped his arms around you, stuffing his face in your neck.

He was here with you. He was home.

You slightly pulled away, holding his face in your hands staring into those bright blue eyes that you fell in love with.

“I can’t believe it you here. You’re actually here.”

He gave you that soft smile you’ve always love. He put a hand over yours.

“ i’m all yours love. I get two months off.”

He saw the way your face practically lit up and it made his heart flutter. Instead of a reply, you connected your lips in a much needed kiss,

The way he carefully held you would’ve made you think you were made of glass.

The kiss wasn’t desperate or needy. It was love and adoration.

Moments like these made all the time away absolutely worth it. It was you and him. It was always gonna be you and him. And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

He pulled away resting his forehead against yours. Both your faces held smiles, basking in each others presence.

“I’m glad your back love”

“I’ll always come back to you.”

#cod mw2 #modern warfare #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you #captain price #captain john price #john price x reader #john price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #john price x y/n #john price x you #cpt price #mw2 price #price x reader #price x you

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ghostswoman · 8 months

Note

I'd love if like 141 goes out to the bar and gaz being a pretty boy of course he's gonna get hit on, and so s/o is insecure. But when I'm insecure I don't storm up and demand the girl leaves my man.. No I go quiet and watch it play out, then hate myself for hours on end after so some angst to fluff would be nice with my unappreciated boy gaz❤️

Definitely I find it unbalanced and unappreciated that our sunny boy Gaz gets nothin not even crumbs that why I’m here <3

Only you.

After the huge mission in Texas and after some health checkups from the 141 members everyone went to the local bar near the base in the tiny town. Holding hands with your boyfriend Gaz you were happy he didn’t got hit by any stray bullets or ironically fell out of a helicopter,that already happened once you don’t need that adrenaline shock again. Walking to your usual place directly at the bar as you sat down and as Gaz sat down besides you putting his interlocked hands on the bar counter and smiles lovingly at you with his beautiful toothy smile.

Sending a loving smile his way as well as you order your local cocktail/beverage of your liking. Speaking a bit about the mission as you didn’t went on it as you got transferred from different task force 9 months ago so you still were in your rookie position but that would definitely change someday as Price already told you he appreciates your hawk like eyes on the battlefield. As Ghost dropped that Soap almost fell over his own feet after he heard a loud thumbing in the hallway all of them including you started laughing.

As the local band came as they started playing some cool music as you turned around in your chair and sipped on your drink looking around the bar it was a bit more full this time,maybe it got more popular over the 2 months you didn’t went here. Well they definitely have delicious cocktails it’s time they got some credit for that,tasting the soft lemon soda mixed with the vodka and fresh strawberries was just a perfect highlight for this evening.

After sometime some little groups mixed together Soap and Gaz were speaking and Ghost and Price we’re talking as well you didn’t felt like speaking as you enjoyed the music and the drinks a bit more. Gaz and Soap were standing. Gaz was leaning against the deep wood bar as he was holding his beer in his hand as he spoke to Soap,god how you loved that man. How could he be so sexy with just simply standing ugh.

Well you definitely weren’t the only one thinking that your man was smoking hot. Around 9pm a woman group came in they were damn loud probably some girls from the college or something but they just got on your nerves with their loud laughs and these laughs were fake as hell. Especially the girl with the fake blond hair she was starring no practically taking Gaz’s clothes off with her eyes.

You hated that so much your blood started boiling but also your insecurities called themselves in. She was definitely 2-3 years younger than you and even though she looked like she got hit in the face with a clown makeup,she still looked better than you. Well you thought that. You were wearing your normal military uniform with you hair up in a sleek bun,no makeup because that mostly distracted you when you were working.

How she talked with Gaz was just making you want to cry right on the spot. Caressing his arm with her hands that were clawed with cheap press on’s that you just needed to blink at and they could chip of her nails in milliseconds. Twirling her blond hair with her point finger while disgustingly chewing a bubblegum.

Turning your back to them as you just rubbed through your face as you sighed and rubbed your temples but did you know Gaz was as annoyed from the girl as much as you. Soap already was gone he had enough of her fake high pitched voice.

Gaz just sighed as he smiles politely at the girl “Sorry but I’m not interested you are not my type. And I’m happily taken by my beautiful woman Y/n.” his voice left no doubt that he meant it. The Blondie scoffed and just walked back to her girls as Gaz just rolled his eyes but he saw how you just started into your empty glass looking at the ice melting inside as he sighed as walked over to you.

Softly putting his glass down as he softly kisses your temple and whispered softly “hey gorgeous,got a boyfriend?” softly giggling at his joke as you met his beautiful brown eyes and nodded as he pouted “ah okay well I hope he is handsome at least.” You laughed softly and nodded again “very handsome.”

Softly he wraps his arms around your waist as he softly kisses your forehead as you just sighed and leaned against his strong chest. Wrapping your own arms around his body. “You are the kind of woman I always wanted,it will only be you for the rest of my life, understood?” As he softly kisses your lips. “Only you.”

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fic-heaven · 1 month

Text

Nutella Doughnut (Soap x Witty! Reader)

🐥Short af. If this goes well I'll make a second part.

⚠️a very Scottish Soap

"You are smokin' sexy, lass..." Soap said casually.

You were smoking, leaning on your car's side near the wheel, arm perched around Gaz's shoulder who, after hearing Soap's comment, chuckled lowly before kissing your cheek in a quick goodbye to let his brother in arms work his magic at wooing you. You laughed at Johnny's boldness after waving Gaz goodbye.

"Keep talkin'. I love when you bathe me in flattery." You lean back, one elbow supported your stance as you lifted the cigar back to your lips, puffed some smoke and continued. "But don't make it too corny, or the next person leavin' will be me."

"Naw, don't say that. Gaz is jus' jealous of my skills, that's why he threw the smoke bomb." Johnny winks. "B'sides I know you love it when a' get corny."

"Hmm, you caught me there. Maybe Gaz thinks that if he stays here too long he'd end up falling for you."

Soap laughed a bit walking to your side resting his back right against the driver's door with both hands on his pockets. His grey eyes shot your way in a teasing side glance that made you walk up to him facing his profile with a giddy little smile that made Soap chuckle once more, you mirrored the chuckle pinching the cigar out of your mouth. You two looked like two teenagers in love and frankly you didn't care, because that's how Johnny always made you feel and you'd die before you try having this connection with anyone else.

There was some silence then as you two stare to one another, Soap repositions his stance to fully face you with this relaxed expression, like he was in bliss just by sharing a quiet moment with you. You two are standing closer than before playing oblivious of the growing tension as you begun bantering lowly about anything and everything. The night was at your favor, gracing your ears with little sounds, amongst them the crickets and the muffled music from inside the bar where Gaz had rejoined his captain and lieutenant and surely was gossiping about the two missing sargents.

"What was that about me being smokin' hot?"

"Smokin' sexy." Soap quickly corrects feigning offense.

"Oh, pardon me."

Johnny just smiles at you, his silver eyes eating every detail of your face as if he was imprinting it on his mind, he reaches a hand out of his pocket to your face and for a moment you slightly close your eyes basking on the feeling of his rough fingers delicately putting a few strands of hair behind your ear to later brush your cheek and then he unexpectedly snatches your cigar straight from your lips. The Scott makes a show giving a small lick to the white butt before putting it on his lips, an indirect kiss. Your jaw drops letting out a surprised crackle, Soap wiggles his brows with your cig between his lips before he responds your previous question.

"Was jus' repeating what Price said before. Tho' he was drunk as a Dane, he could have been referring to tha' pint he was holding, that fucken' weapon."

Price?

"Y' think our captain has the hots for me?" You smirk. "Does that mean you've got competition?"

Soap smirks "Nah, I know i ain' got no one standing between me n' you." His confidence made you smile softly.

Your face will be aching by the end of the night with how much Soap makes you smile, and you'd embrace the ache and seek for more anytime.

With the years you noticed a huge change in the way Soap spoke to you. Because every time you two bantered up for long he'd end up recovering his Scottish accent to a point where the first few times you spoke after you formally met it was hard to get what he said, but the flow of time and the book of Scottish slangs that Johnny gifted you made you an expert Soap-ologist. You knew when he was sad, mad, hungry or lost in thought, and most importantly you understood his hard accent, often being used by Ghost as a translator when you three were together. In conclusion, you felt flattered that Johnny was so comfortable with you that he graced you with his Scottish accent.

The moment Johnny had placed the half-finished cig back on your mouth swiftly and without a warning your lashes fluttered rapidly breaking from your thoughts trying to focus on his current rambling.

"Jus' got five drinks for y'guys before comin' here at the drive thru n' that guy asked 'do ye want a cupholder?' and a' go 'why obviously, do ya foken' reprobate I'm no a fucking octopus, y'dick head' " He was referring to a few hours ago when he offered to have lunch together before going to the bar and drink yourselves silly. But of course only Price ended up getting so wasted all of you decided to slow down as not to encourage your drunken captain. But going bar after bar one couldn't keep watch on Price forever, the weight of his last divorce always took a tool on the poor man around these dates.

"Wait! Is that why you've got that giant stain on your fancy shirt?" You laughed pointing a manicured nail to a big stain in Soap's blue shirt right underneath his left pectoral that he was clearly trying to hide with his black and white varsity jacket. Soap took your hand and directed it to his mouth as if he was going to bite your finger off, you two crackled in unison as you struggled to tug it out of his grip.

"Fuuuck! When did ya notice it!?" He asked pulling your body forwards making you bump against his toned chest. The smell of his cologne and the hint of aftershave invaded your senses but you managed to speak even if your brain felt like it was melting.

"You've got yer jacket wide open! And you are like a sardine moving here and there, it's obvious the stain would peek from its hidden spot, Johnny."

Soap groaned throwing his arms around your form caging you, your lips pursed with your cig still hanging limply in between them until you spat it out to the side and stomped on it with the heel of your boot, your eyes were firmly fixed on Soap's. You two went quiet then, your hands were occupied massaging his soft sides as he didn't leave them much liberty of movement with the way his heavy arms trapped your body in a strong embrace. You slowly planted your forehead on Johnny's clavicle, he moved his head a little inhaling your shampoo before he planted a short peck near your hairline.

"You comfy there, lil' lizard?" He purred amused.

"Lizard!?" You giggle on his neck, Soap almost shivered at the feeling of your mouth near his sensitive skin. "That the best nickname you can come up with?"

Soap hums delighted by this question "Actually, y'know how I usually call ya?" You tilted your head up to look at his eyes resting your chin to his chest.

"A secret nickname. Care to share?"

"Doughnut'." He blurts.

You grinned, your brows raising surprised "Oh! What kind?"

"I'll let ya choose." Johnny half-whispers looking down at you, grey eyes filled with amusement at this stupid conversation.

Your eyes look to the side still not moving your chin from his chest, biting at the tip of your tongue in thought. "How 'bout Nutella?"

He hums and nods before you continue as if you hadn't notice his agreement "Hmm... Do ya have any nut allergies?" Soap barks out a laugh "Aye, love. I'm planning suicide by donut!"

Your loud laughter filled the air as you abruptly broke out of his embrace only to smack his chest playfully with the back of your right hand while you covered your laughing mouth with your left one. Soap was marveled at the sight laughing along, his eyes crescent moons that reflected the blue neon light of the bar's sign. He looked so handsome.

Johnny's hands were on you as soon as he felt you were moving too far from him. But instead of taking your hands or your waist they went to squeeze your face until your lips were peeking out of your mushed cheeks while you were still grinning, prolonging the sweet melody of your laughter. The Scott promised himself right then and there that he'd be the only one able to make you laugh like this. He'd be the only one who'd get to hear your uncontrolled laughter, to witness your face lit at his stupidity, to kiss those beautiful lips he's dying to taste.

He was thinking too loud, so loud that he didn't realize you had gone quiet looking up at him mirroring his look of awe, his big hands no longer squeezed the soft plush of your cheeks, they were holding you lovingly. You lean to his touch with a delighted hum as your hands cup his in your face and Soap swore he would faint at the sight.

"How can you be so fuckin' beautiful...? It should be a crime to look the way you do..." He whispers, heavy accent present, the grey in his eyes melted in a sea of black, his pupils dilated swallowing the image before him.

"Johnny..." Your lips whisper sensually.

"Johnny." Someone loudly calls right behind you.

Soap let's out a high pitch scream that could have very well broken the sound barrier, his hands shooting back from your face at the fright he got thanks to his giant and quiet Lieutenant standing behind you looking at the two of you like one would to dog shit sitting on their path. Your ears bled but you laughed with so much force at his reaction you threw your body forwards to Johnny's right side and accidentally hit your forehead against your car's side-view mirror.

"Pull up yer pants, you two. You'll have plenty of time ta' fuck around when we get back, for now we gotta go get some dinner." Ghost sighs crossing his arms as Gaz approached with a very drunk Price loudly singing 'Country Roads' until he heard what Ghost said, then he begun complaining about his lack of hunger.

"At two in tha' morning? Is there any place open at this time?" You said, Soap was cooing at you gently massaging your aching forehead with his thumb inspecting the damage ignoring your quiet "I'm fine, no worries, I've taken worse."

Price then shagged forwards falling literally to your arms, you gripped your captain like vice so he wouldn't eat the concrete. "M' house..." He managed to grunt out.

A little later, you drove the crew to Price's block. Or more like, his auntie's. When your captain divorced his second wife (who lasted a year and a half married to him until she unexpectedly ran off with the next economically stable guy she found.) he moved with his aunt to her big apartment, luckily she was out of town visiting other relatives of hers so all of you had the house for yourselves.

The big saint Bernard lazily greeted Price the moment he managed to open the door letting all of you in, Gaz instantly fell to his knees amazed by the beauty of Price's pet. "Name's Lucy... Watch yer boots, she loves to drool on 'em." Soap was about to go in next until he saw the giant dog and like a gentleman, he offered you to go fist. You knew your Johnny well, so you guided Lucy out of the way with Gaz following after her like a lost puppy. It seems they all had forgotten Soap's phobia after seeing the Scott bravely face any danger your tedious job threw your way.

You all feasted upon the takeout Price had bought hours back before your little outing. The old man planned ahead, it seemed. A thousand small containers of asian food decorated the living room's table as all of you ate sharing stories and laughing at the new recruits' gossip Gaz managed to overhear. You loved every second Johnny laughed, his bubbly laughter making him bump shoulders with you constantly until you threw your arm around him pressing your bodies together, his big hand landed on your thigh in response. It was hard to eat like this but it didn't bother you one bit as long as you could keep touching Johnny.

You two didn't miss the looks shared between Ghost and Gaz. But you did miss Price's proud, drunken smile. He was delighted seeing how close the two of you had gotten over the years, he couldn't help but raise up his water glass (because you all forbid him from drinking one more drop of alcohol).

"To you two. I dedicate this... H2O, may your hearts entwine stronger than my ex-wife legs around that fokin' medic she met on Facebook. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" All of you chanted.

You two smiled dumbly to one another swallowing your respective sodas in one gulp as if it was Champaign. Was Price giving you his blessings?

Soap thought the same giving you a soft look hiding his big dumb smile behind the rim of his glass. He leaned his face your way resting his cheek against yours with a sigh nodding Gaz to continue sharing his succulent gossip. Your hands entwined underneath the table, your hearts beating fast.

After dinner, you'll ask Soap if he truly wants to taste your doughnut.

#soap call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod soap #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #john mactavish #witty reader #short fic

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vidalinav · 6 months

Text

Part 2 of the Nesta gets sick, acofas re-write thing

This is not my best work honestly. It's more of my quick writing. But you know what? It is what it is. Not everything can be a masterpiece and I should post things even when I don't think it's perfect. Keeps me humble and keeps me brave. This was a pep talk for me.

Part 1

The icy wind scars his face, but it's a small form of torture. Her name sits on his tongue, but he has yet to see if the mountains will hear him or if the people of Velaris will point the way.

Which tavern? Which music hall? Which book store? Which person's bedroom will he find her in?

How drunk will she be?

Cassian wishes he was drunk right now, but...

Has he ever been sober since he's seen her face?

Cassian sees her and the words spill out his mouth. Nothing honest--no. If he were telling the truth, he'd have sunk to his knees. Human, fae, or... death.

She breathed life back into him.

Now Nesta's being haunted by her thoughts, drinking them away, so they may be silenced, so the ice on his face--the piercing slice of winter, is a small price to pay. A small sacrifice. A small revenge for he deserves more than this.

"Nesta!" he yells, but Cassian's sure the wind swallows his call, howling like a wolf to the moon.

Cassian doesn't like the thought of her traveling in this. The city is bright, but he's unsurprised that many of the businesses are closed. It is a holiday after all. Thankfully, the taverns are alight with patrons and noise. He's almost glad it's open if only to offer Nesta reprieve.

Because she isn't at home when he knocks on her door. He can't sense her at all. Cauldron knows her apartment must not have good heating, or at least the door felt as cold as ice. Quiet and mocking. For that alone, Cassian's sure she'd be somewhere here.

So which tavern will it be?

He clenches his fist, but he tells himself it's to warm them and not because the thought of her uncared for goads on his nerves. Not because the thought of her cared for in another's bed makes him want to gut someone brutally.

"We haven't seen her, my lord," the barkeeper says.

"Cassian," he quickly corrects, though he knows none of the workers will do as he asks, formality running heavy throughout town.

"We haven't seen her in a couple of days actually," a younger fae, who offers to pour him a drink, notes. "She usually sits right over there, nearest to the musicians. They've been traveling, you see, so perhaps she's tried another tavern."

"We hope she comes back, my lord. Our high lady's sister is always welcome."

Cassian is sure she is, since he's seen the bills collected on her behalf. "Do you know where she might be?"

The barkeeper shrugs, "maybe Blue Mill? Have you tried the Wolf's den?"

"She's not there," he says, though Cassian offers his thanks and moves on to another tavern down the way, much tamer than the last.

Nesta's not at that one either. The snow sprinkles down and it packs the ground in deep white. He can feel it in his boots.

Where can Nesta be?

Perhaps, he should have told Azriel to send his shadows, but he does what he knows, so he shoots to the sky, not bothering to think about how much his wings will ache from this weather.

He doesn't know how long he searches, before something starts eating at his gut. Something pokes and prods at his chest. Something is not right.

Something is terribly wrong, and it is not this storm or the sting against his wings. It's not the fact that the city sings even from above, as if nothing but him can sense this.

Nesta is nowhere in sight.

She's not at the bridge, the taverns, the trail to her house, the walk to the bookstores, along the Sidra. There is nothing that says that Nesta lives here, all he sees is white.

White is the color of death, he finds, and something morbid calls him forth.

Nesta. Nesta. Nesta.

He thinks the wind calls her name, an echo of his voice. A chant. Cassian thinks of death gods. Of monsters. Of villainous people.

What is happening to her?

Why can't he find her?

Cassian circles the mountain, pulling at his hair.

There.

A scarf circles around a lamp post and it looks like the one Elain gifts to Nesta for her birthday last spring. Light blue and waving hello, come find me, I need you. When he grasps it, Cassian can catch the slightest whiff of her scent.

"Nesta," he calls, peering at the space as if she'll come out of hiding. He sees piles of snow, no footprints in sight. All he can smell is wind and winter and cold. "Nesta!"

He finds a shroud near the stairs, her head lying against the stone. Touches of brass and pale skin. Snow has already begun to pile on her body. A blanket of white. A funeral.

"Nesta," he gasps. "Nesta. Nesta!"

She is so perfectly silent, it fills him with dread.

"Talk to me, Nesta," he demands as he grasps her shoulders, and then her hands, blowing into them as if that my warm her from the inside out.

Her cheeks are a budding pink and her lips are tinged in blue. Cassian thinks of death, corpses, and pale flesh. He can't help it. Nesta lays so still, he wants to throw up.

Her heart beat is faint, but Cassian thinks it might just be the wind drowning out any noise. At least he keeps repeating that to himself, because pulling out his own won't help hers beat louder or stronger.

"I'm going to take you to the house," he says, though she doesn't make a sound. Nesta's head lulls into his neck as he holds her to his chest. Cassian's surprised to find a touch of warmth at her skin and for that he sends a thousand thanks to the Mother.

"I've got you Nesta," he says, kissing at the top of her head without thinking. "I've got you."

I'm never leaving you alone, again.

You see I have a very good memory, so I had this book series memorized like the back of my mind. But then I went into a PhD program, and brain dumped it all. SO I cannot remember some details or at least I can't remember which things happened in what book... just like SJM ( LOL ). So if this is not bookly accurate, just ignore it. Nothing about this is bookly accurate anyway.

Also this is hella dramatic. I should have really just started off with... he found her with no explanation... which is what I usually do. But I tried to give explanation. And... it's dramatic. But whateva.

You'll see her actually sick in the next part.

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian sick fic #vidalinav

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butwhyduh · 2 years

Text

At the Car Shop

Dick Grayson x reader

Summary: okay but what if he was a car mechanic for a job?

Warning: smut

Finding a good apartment in Gotham was like finding a thousand dollars on the street. It just didn’t happen and the few times it did? Everyone wondered why they deserved it more than them. And after weeks of searching, you found practically the holy grail.

It was a one bedroom, one bath, on the second floor walk up with a parking spot in front of the building that was only a 10 minute drive to work. It was basically a dream.

That was until you came home from work a few days later to find a truck in your spot. Not just any truck but a shiny old truck that was clearly heavily fixed up. Cherry red two door Chevy with tan leather interior. It put your poor car to shame. And even worse was that you had to park blocks down the street and walk home in Gotham after dark.

It happened again the next night. You huffed angrily as you put out your trash in the bins.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Asked your elderly neighbor you hadn’t seen as you walked down glaring at the truck. She was sweet and loved with her adult son and tiny dog and had been a pretty quiet neighbor so far.

“Someone has been parking in my spot and I don’t even know who it is,” you said, pointing to the truck that was back again.

“Oh that’s Dickie’s,” she said. “Dick Grayson. He owns the car shop down the street. That one,” she pointed to a rather plain car garage. It didn’t have any advertisements and you hadn’t noticed it yet. “He probably doesn’t even know that someone is living here and using the spot. Just let him know. He’s a nice guy.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure,” she replied before going in. You wiped your hands on your shorts and walked toward the shop. It might have a plain outside but you could hear music playing loudly. Classic rock from the sound of it. You knocked loudly. Could anyone hear over all that music?

After a few minutes and a few knocks, you determined that no one could hear anything but music. From the window you could see shop service prices so it was clearly a business. If it was locked, oh well, but if it wasn’t, you could just go in. Right?

You pushed open the door to the customer waiting area side of the shop. “Hello?” You called. You followed the music to a shop with at least 4 or 5 cars in various states of work. “Hello?” You called again.

You heard a bang followed by a “goddamn!” A man slid on a cart from under a car while rubbing his head and the music turned down. “Shop’s closed. How did you get in here?” He asked.

“Oh the door was open and I just walked in. Sorry. I’m not here for service,” you said and you couldn’t help but notice how absolutely hot he was in a dirty white tank top and jeans. He wiped greasy hands on a rag before walking over.

“Okay, why are you here?” He asked with a semi confused and amused look on his face. He had the dreamiest blue eyes framed by black hair falling in his face. He wasn’t just hot. He was pretty.

“Uhh, so well,” you said, stumbling on your words. You didn’t think about the fact it was a confrontation basically. “Do you own a red kinda old truck? Because Myrtle, my neighbor says you do but if you don’t then nevermind.”

“I do. Why? It’s not for sale.”

“No. It’s uh, parked in my spot that I pay for and I can’t park my car there and I was wondering if you could move- actually you need to move your truck. Because I’ve been parking blocks away and Gotham is sketchy at night,” you rambled. He rubbed the back of his neck with a guilty look.

“Ah, I’ve been stealing your spot. Sorry about that. I didn’t know there was a new tenant in the building. I’d say welcome neighbor but you probably don’t have the best thoughts about me stealing your spot,” he said. “My kid brother leaves his car in mine so I’ve been parking in yours. I’ll move it. Sorry again.”

“That’s okay. You live in the building too?” You asked.

“Uh, yeah, 4th floor,” he replied. “407. Can I make up for stealing your spot with a cup of coffee or something sometime?”

“Uhh,” your brain froze. Was the hottest guy you’ve ever seen asking you out?? “Yeah, that'd be good.”

Dick grinned and nodded. “Tomorrow breakfast?”

“I have to be at work at 9,” you warned.

“I can get up early,” he replied, causing you to huff out a laugh. “What do you like?”

—————————-

The next morning you were pleasantly surprised to him bringing your favorite breakfast over at the time you talked about. You sat on the couch, eating, and talking about nothing in particular until you had to leave. You walked him to your door with keys in hand.

“See you around sometime?” He asked while standing in the doorway with a hand on the frame practically hanging over you.

“Yeah I’d like that,” you said, standing far too close. He grinned and bent towards you. You closed your eyes only to be surprised by a cheek kiss.

“See you around,” he said with a wink before leaving.

—————————-

Over the next few weeks you saw Dick Grayson multiple times for lunch or coffee or to see a movie. It felt like proper dating rather than the confusing label-less dancing most guys would try.

You met him at his shop after hours. He was always at his shop working with rock music playing in the background. It was his passion. The smell of car oil and leather were starting to remind you of Dick’s usual smell. He was currently standing in the engine block of an old sports car with the engine hanging up across the room. He looked up with a grin as you walked in.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” you replied while walking to him. You leaned across and kissed him chastely on the lips. He pouted.

“That’s all I get?”

“Don’t be greedy,” you teased but already leaned towards him again. His lips met yours and it wasn’t long before his tongue licked across your bottom lip and into your mouth. Dick planted a hand on the car to better reach over to you and his other hand cupped your jaw when he sensed you might pull back. You giggled in his mouth at this and let Dick kiss you thoroughly.

You kissed like this for a minute before finally pulling back. Dick kissed you again and clambered out of the engine block causing the kiss to be very messy. He pulled you tight to his body with a hand around your waist and the other leading up your back.

“I love sundresses,” he muttered between kisses. “You look super hot in them,” he added before kissing down your throat. Your fingers threaded in his thick hair as you pushed your head back to give him more room.

You gasped when his hand started pulling the dress up as his leg slotted between yours. He moved his head up questioningly and you pushed him back against your skin where he nipped and sucked even more aggressively. He finally got under your dress and grabbed at your ass. His fingers pulled your panties down and you slipped them off your legs while pulling at the belt on his jeans.

You unzipped his pants and pushed them down off his hips as he reached his hand so low on your ass that he was actually rubbing your folds. He nibbled on your collarbone, pulling soft moans from you. Dick could barely reach it from his angle but he managed to dip a few fingers in your core while you jerked him off. His cock was just as pretty as he was.

“Condom?” You asked breathlessly. He nodded and reached in a drawer to grab some. “In the shop?”

“Always wanted to and never could before but I wanted to be ready just in case,” he admitted. “Can I bend you over a car?” He asked.

“Fuck yeah,” you replied and he turned you over the hood and pushed the skirt of your dress over your hips. Dick pulled his shirt off. His hands kneaded the skin of your ass before he bent down to his knees. Before you could turn around to question him, he pushed your legs open and licked at your pussy.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped as he ate you out while you were bent over the car. It wasn’t long before you were grateful for his continuous music playing to hide any sounds you made that night. He pushed one leg up the car while sucking on your clit. If he wouldn’t have held you up, you would have fallen with the way your legs fell out as you came on his tongue. “Oh Dick!”

He wasted no time at all, kissing up your ass as he stood before putting the condom on. “You ready,” he asked with his cock pressed against your folds.

“Yeah,” you breathed and he pushed in. It felt so good when he started thrusting. His fingers made quick work of the top of your dress and soon the fabric only hung around your waist. His fingers pinched and kneaded at your breasts. “Don’t stop,” you whined. His fingers found your clit and rubbed circles. He nodded roughly and you could feel his cock twitching in need to cum too.

It didn’t take long for you to clench around him as you came. Dick joined you immediately. His fingers clenched around your breast while pulling you close to his chest. His hips thrusted messily as he came deep.

He kissed the back of your neck as he came down from his high, muttering sweet nothings in your ear. His fingers caressed your skin. “You’re so beautiful. So good. You feel amazing.” He pulled out to throw away the condom.

You awkwardly pulled the dress back over your shoulders and down to cover yourself as he slipped his jeans back up. You weren’t sure where this was going. Was this just sex? Were you staying the night?

“Come upstairs?” Dick asked. “There’s a little bedroom that I only use when I work too late and need to crash.”

“Yeah,” you replied and let him lead you up to the tiny bedroom. Dick tossed you a shirt and you changed into that before climbing in bed with him. He spooned behind you with his arm around your waist. He rubbed meaningless circles on your hip until you fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up to sun streaming in the window and the bed empty. You sat up and moved to find your clothes only to realize 2 things. Your thighs were very sore and you left your panties downstairs. There was a soft knock on the door and it opened. Dick carried in a bag of breakfast and 2 coffees from the shop down the street.

“Morning cutie,” he said, handing you a coffee. You smiled at him.

“Hey handsome.”

“I brought breakfast. Did you have fun last night,” he asked. You took a sip and pretended to contemplate the answer.

“Hmm can’t really remember. Care to show me again?” You teased. Dick grabbed your coffee and set both his and yours on the table.

“I can definitely try to jog your memory,” he said while pulling you down to the mattress. You laughed into a squeal as he licked up your throat.

#friday night smut #dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick Grayson smut #nightwing smut #dc fanfics

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