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heard-nsfw-is-back · 1 year

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When the 141 + König try to get your attention.

They'll have extra bandaids, hair scrunchies, socks, and ammo for your favorite guns. Anything you could possibly need as an emergency that you might not get easily. They carry around hygiene products for you too if you need. "Dammit I need." Bam immediately in your hand. "Oh I should have taken extra." Don't worry about it they gave enough for a month. Have an illness or need medication they have the supplies you need on hand always. You're tired and can't sleep because you have watch? Oops your shift has been covered, go get some rest.

Ghost:

You've noticed it eventually. He's always got whatever you need and soon it becomes so regular that you're just subconsciously turning to him when you need something. He's always got it too. Without fail. It's not till Price, smug as fly shit, tells you Ghost is covering your night shift that you make the decision to confront him. In the military a man doing you favors could mean anything positive or negative but it could definitely be used against you. You find him and sidled up next to his side. "What are you doing?" You ask eventually. He grunts, pretending to be confused. "You're always doing me favors on the field and now you're taking my watch. What do you want?" He looks down at you. "Don't want anything." His sentence feels incomplete and you just glare up at him. A sigh and then, "Alright I do want something." Ice crawls through your stomach. You had hoped it was just him trying to make you feel comfortable in the group but no, there was a string. You look out to the range and track in your base. "Name it." You bite the words, trying to shove as much terror as you can in to your sentence. "Go to dinner with me." A beat, you inhale, another beat and you decide whether or not this counts as harassment. "You've been doing this to...get me to go on a date?" Trying to make the situation clear from your perspective. "Can't really flirt to save your life, the only way I knew what to do. I'll still do it. I just want you. You're a damn good soldier and an asset to the team. And you leave your work out of the base. The team likes you." He tilts your head back to him, as gently as anything. "I like you."

You loved your dinner and plan more date nights.

Soap

With Johnny it was harder to figure out if something was going on. He was always carrying extra things for the team. Ammo, meds, clothes, whatever. It's not until you get a smoke grenade to the face and you have to rip your contacts out to flush your face properly that you don't have extra, and your goggles that have your prescription is in your room. Keeping the pillows company. "Fuck all this." You're basically blind without them and there's no way you can fake it till you're back to base. It was stupid and careless. Price was going to have a field day with this after he reams you for an hour at least. "You alright?" Soap slumped down next to your still prone body. "No it's dumb I left my glasses and contacts. I'm going to have to evac. Or just wait." Soap laughs and you're about to get mad before he pulls out goggles for you. It's your old script but it's not too bad. You make it back to base with nothing more than a headache from your aching eyes. There's no reason he should have your old glasses. In fact, it's made you start to question how he always knows where you leave your things. He's genuinely nice and not in a bad way, even Ghost is gentle around him. Still, you need to talk, cause that's weird. Looking around you find him and you ask him to follow you in to the conference room. He does, glancing at you in confusion. You keep your face neutral and when the two of you sit down he's relaxed but nervous. "Everything alright?" "No not really, why do you have my old glasses? Pretty sure I threw those out, plus it's weird that you always know where I lose things." You lay out your concerns and his shoulders drop. "One, yes I notice where you lose things but you're always losing things and it makes you frustrated. So I've just been making sure to pay attention when you put something down or when you drop something. Two, you did throw them out but I had an extra from when your glasses once on a mission. So I've always kept one just in case. I'm sorry I made you unsettled. I really meant no harm. Plus I, wait no, sorry not the time." He waves his hand. "No no go on it's ok." You feel comfortable again and willing to go back to how it was before and hopefully set boundaries better for yourself. He leans forward. "I like you. I've been trying to get you to look at me, actually look at me." You feel your face go hot. "Dinner, maybe? Or something?" He continues, trying not to laugh at your agape expression.

You have dinner and a movie and happily wonder what your next date will be

Gaz

You were so focused on getting your exercise this morning done before it got too busy that you missed the breakfast call. 'Dammit!' There was no way it wasn't packed with people now. All the good food would be taken and you are not going to touch those breakfast bars, more crumb than food honestly. You make your way to your room, hoping that you would have something in your stash of snacks. As you comb through your drawers you find a single bag of popcorn. You had been meaning to go up to the shops and restock but you've been so busy or do tired lately. And now your stomach was growling. Great. You finished your popcorn on the way to the mess hall. The line was long but you slide in and wait. "Hey morning." Gaz bumps your shoulder friendly. "Hey!" You smile, he was always nice to you, and welcomed you to the group easily. "Got your favorites already don't worry about the line." He points over where the 141 was sat and a plate in front of an empty chair. You frown, "Yeah those are my favorites? How did you?" Gaz scoffs. "You eat like the same 6 things it's not hard to remember." Actually now that you think about it, he always makes sure you had your favorite food. Even if he for sure had to go out of his way. He looks over to your concerned face. "Hey you ok?" "No that's really weird. But thank you I think." You pick up your plate and go back to your room. It's too loud and the sound of other people chewing makes you want to scream today. Gaz followed you. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you." You sigh and stop. "I'm good at what I do except this. Let me start over. You, me, dinner?" He asks and you look over to him. Before you can stop it a smile creeps over your face. "You were flirting?" He laughs, sheepish. "Badly, obviously." You shake your head, still smiling. "Ok you know what? Dinner sounds nice."

You both enjoy dinner so much that you end up taking all your meals alone together. It becomes so commonplace that Price sends those fold away tables to your rooms.

Price

You were new and the transition from your old squad to the 141 was strange. The base was private, secluded and unfortunately for you the nearest stores were about 15 miles away. It made shopping for hygiene products so annoying so you had to stock up. Until you had been gone for two months on a mission and you came back smelling awful and you had been run ragged and all you wanted was a shower and maybe a two week nap. You walked up to the base and Price walked out. "Good to see you, welcome back." "Good to be back Sir. I'll feel better after I get settled." He laughed and walked you in. "We had a bit of a move around. Your room was moved." Nervous now you followed him. "Something happen?" Shaking his head, Price lead you to a new door. "I should have had this done before but it turns out there's no real way to get plumbing to where your room was so we moved you here." You walked in and your things had been carefully moved. Wait. "Plumbing?" "Built you your own bathroom. Little bit of your own space." "I don't understand. I was fine with the one we already had." You looked under the sink and there was one more box of pads and tampons you absolutely were sure you didn't buy. That was creepy. "Let me know when you need new ones by the way I'll put in the order." Your head was screaming danger. No man in his position of power would just do that for no reason. Danger. No one would build a bathroom for one person and get the exact private things you would usually get. Danger. Slowly you stood up. Option One, get a hold of someone above Price and get out of here quickly and quietly Option Two be nice and grateful, (which you are Ghost and Soap are big fans of bathroom sex and any chance to not see that again was fantastic), but see if you can get out of this room without him noticing you freaking out. "What's wrong?" He asked, noticing your tension. Fuck, option one then. "It's kind of weird you know my order and the things I get. You also built me this. Captain, you have to know how this looks." You turn and face him. He looks at you and the gears start to turn. "Oh shit. No it's not like that I completely understand. I'm just trying to make you feel at ease. Give you your own space. Also your products are coming out of the squad budget so it's not any string I had to pull. I only noticed what they were when it was being packed away." You really think about it. Mull it over and over and slowly nod. "Then.. thank you Captain. I do appreciate it. It's so nice." Your own bathroom. You would have killed for this in your old squad. "Just want to take off my favorite girl." There he goes again. The easy banter. "I thought it was no big deal." You tease. "If I wasn't your favorite girl then you wouldn't do this?" He chuckles. "No I would. I wouldn't have any ideas about what goes on in this shower but I would still make it happen." "What kind of ideas?" You lean on the doorframe and he takes a few steps to you. "Let me show you."

You must have been in there a while because when you both make your way to the kitchen Ghost and Johnny are sitting around looking vaguely impatient. "Thank fuck." Ghost sighs and Johnny laughs. "Finally done? Thought you'd never finish."

König

You and König are good friends coming in at the same time, the two of you bond over trying to figure out your place in the squad. He's got your back and you've got his. When you get stuck in rain or fall in to water puddles too deep and they seep through your boots, he always has an extra pair of socks with him. Or a shirt when you need to rip one for an impromptu bandage. But it's especially odd when he happens to have a belt that is your size that you use to hold up a gun you swipped off an enemy body. "We're gonna talk about this when we get back." You tell him, matter of factly. And you do. You come up to his room and he let's you in. His body language is tense and he's actively making himself look as small and non-threatening as is physically impossible. "You always have spare clothes for me. You always have a hair tie or like today with a belt that I checked and is my size. It certainly isn't yours. So what's going on?" He slumps, and admits that he just wants to take care of you. "I'm not sure why I picked that but. For me it's strange I have to order my clothes or make them so I always like to make sure that you have clothes? I think. I'm not sure what I mean." He stands up and your eyes follow his. "I'm sorry my dear for upsetting you." You scoff and wave him off. "It's not weird you didn't upset me. Besides I think it's kind of cute that's how you show you care." König runs his hand over yours. "I do care. A lot. So much it drives me mad sometimes." He leans down, your head straining back, baring your neck to him. "Show me." You plead. "Not yet. I'm told I need to wine and dine before indulging, no?" You can see his eyes crinkle in mirth and damn if that isn't cute and hot at the same time.

"Ok I'm dined, I'm wined. Can we indulge now?" His laugh, deep and warm, is a balm and a flame at the same time.

Can you tell König is my favorite? None of this is healthy btw. I'm walking through the factory where they make the red flags and I'm asking for the gift shop and menu anyway. I need an exorcism.

Edit: can't believe I forgot Kyle. Ugh. Sorry for the late addition folx

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #könig #könig x y/n #ghost x reader #soap x reader #könig x reader #price x reader #ghost x y/n #kyle gaz garrick #kyle x reader

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ohbo-ohno · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 12 - Somnophilia

Soap x Reader - 5.5k (on ao3)

summary: Your doctor offers to help you get home after your lasik eye surgery. (Reader POV & Johnny POV)

cw: noncon sex, drugging, kidnapping, briefly mentioned lasik eye surgery (no description past one mention of a scalpel)

note: tysm to ceil for giving me this idea <3 i did a few google searches on lasik eye surgery and tried to mention the actual feelings as little as possible, and also the drug johnny uses is probably literally impossible but its fic so who cares lol

“And… how long did you say I have to wear these?” You ask, tentatively touching the glasses resting over your eyes.

“Och, not long at all. Just until tonight, then you come in for a check-up tomorrow afternoon and I’ll let you know what other care you’ll need.” Dr. MacTavish replies, big hands adjusting the frames and pushing them up your nose.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are they usually painted like this?” You’d hardly been able to see post lasik-surgery - mostly just big swaths of color - but you feel far more vulnerable with the sunglasses on, their blacked out lenses leaving you entirely in the dark except for the blurry light around the rims.

Your doctor’s laugh is low and comforting, his hand patting you on the shoulder before you hear him moving away. “Of course. Not all optometrists use them, but I’ve found for patients like you they have the best results.”

“Like me?”

“Yes,” another chuckle, and the sounds of what you assume are tools being put away. “Patients who struggle to be good and sit still during their surgery.”

“Ah.” You feel your cheeks go hot in embarrassment. “I really am sorry about that…”

“No need,” he reassures, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. You can’t help but jerk a little, the glasses slipping down your nose. “Oops, don’t be losin’ those, bonnie.”

Your cheeks go hot and you have to fight the urge not to reach up and fix them yourself since his hand gets their first. He rights them quickly, then taps the tip of your nose with a finger. “There you go. Let’s keep those where they should be, hm?” He gives the nape of your neck a squeeze, his palm warm and rough, and you do your best to nod without awkwardly dislodging him.

“Now, do you have a ride home?”

You suck your teeth a little at that. You hadn’t known you’d be wearing the dark glasses after - the care plan you and Dr. MacTavish had discussed beforehand had made it seem like you’d be able to ride the bus home, but you’re not comfortable doing that in your blinded state.

“Ah, not right now,” you start, tangling your fingers together in your lap to avoid rubbing at your itchy eyes. “But I can probably call a friend-”

“Nonsense,” Dr. MacTavish dismisses, moving away from you and back to whatever he’d been moving before. “You’re my last patient of the day, how about I give you a ride home?”

“Oh,” you start, startled at his offer. “Oh, that’s… no, that’s alright, Doctor. I’m sure one of my friends could-”

He interrupts you with a tsk, and suddenly there’s a hand at your elbows guiding you up, then just one as he walks you out of the office. “No, that won’t do. We need to get you home and in bed as soon as possible - it’s not good for you to be keeping your eyes open so much after surgery, you know.”

“Oh, really?” You gasp a little, letting him guide you. “Should I be keeping them closed? I don’t want to make anything worse…”

“You’re doing just fine, bonnie, no worries.” The hand on your elbow squeezes as you come to a stop, and you hear the sound of something being written on. “I’ll take good care of you now. C’mon.” What must be a pen is dropped onto what you can only assume is the front counter, and you’re guided forward again. “We’ll have you safe at home in no time.”

Dr. MacTavish’s car is nice - the seats aren’t cracking at all, the air conditioning works to cool the interior quickly, there’s a faint minty smell - but it disconcerts you more than you might’ve expected to be left completely blind in an unfamiliar environment, and with someone you don’t know past a professional relationship.

You give him your address after he buckles you in (you swear his hand brushes your chest, but it doesn’t linger and you don’t want to accuse him of something unfounded just because of a slight touch) and he doesn’t bother to input it into the GPS, tells you he already knows where the neighborhood is.

You haven’t felt so vulnerable in a long time. Even around the edge of the glasses, all you can see are blurs of color, and you feel oddly exposed without the ability to see. Your eyes itch and sting, and it takes conscious effort not to rub the feeling away.

You lift a hand to rub them without even thinking but before it’s even halfway to your face Dr. MacTavish grabs it, pinning it to your thigh and making a low noise of dissent. “No rubbing now, lass, you know the rules.”

The heat creeping up your neck is entirely involuntary, and you tuck your free hand beneath your leg to resist the urge to squirm. “Right, of course, I’m sorry Dr. MacTavish.”

“Johnny, lass, no need for titles off the clock.”

You try to make a vague noise of understanding but end up sounding a bit like a bird, your hand clammy beneath his. He gives you a squeeze, but doesn’t let go. You’d ask him to move but… well, you don’t want to make things awkward when he’s your only way home at the moment and you figure he’s just helping. So you try to relax your fingers, and zone out to the sound of him humming along to the radio.

“Here we are,” he announces eventually, the car slowing to a stop before he turns into your driveway. “Nice neighborhood, hen. Very safe.”

You try to laugh casually and cringe when it just comes off as awkward - you’re unsure how to naviagte small-talk when all you really want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. “I just moved here recently, but it seems to be a pleasant area. I certainly don’t have any complaints.”

Dr. MacTavish - Johnny - hums in response, turning the car off and getting out to come to your side. He unbuckles you quickly and again there’s a little voice in the back of your head that says his hand lingered by your waist for just a few beats too long. But his fingers don’t venture anywhere appropriate, and you tell yourself that you’re seeing something that isn’t really there.

He keeps a hold of your elbow as he guides you up the stairs and into your building. He pauses and then a moment later you hear a ding, and the clear familiar sound of an elevator opening.

“Oh,” you say, shocked as he tugs you forward. “I had no idea the elevator was fixed - it’s been out of order since I moved in.”

“Really?” You hear press a button.

You stand there in silence for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, before you feel the elevator start to move.

“Um, Dr Ma- Johnny, what floor did you pick?”

There’s a pause before he answers, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Och, silly me,” Johnny laughs, the sound echoing in the metal walls. “Force of habit, bonnie, I picked my floor in my building. What’s yours?”

You try to laugh it off, but the way his fingers tighten almost imperceptiably against the crook of your elbow has you sounding a bit too stiff. “Four, please.”

“Four,” he hums, and you hear him press another button.

The ride up is a bit awkward, at least from your perspective. Johnny makes no attempt at conversation past the occasional hum along to the music, and you’re a little too on edge to worry about small-talk right now.

Calm down, you insist to yourself. He’s just being polite. Making sure you get home safe. You’ve got to stop seeing the worst in people.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to relax.

There’s a slightly uncomfortable silence when the door opens for the first time, both you and Johnny just waiting for it to close and take you to the proper floor.

The doors are much quicker to open the third time, and you figure Johnny must live on the third or fifth floor in his own building for you to have gotten to your floor so quickly.

“What’s your apartment number, lass?”

You tell him, and his hold loosens slightly against your arm. There’s a part of you - the part still a little cautious for reasons you can’t quite name - that relaxes when the path he takes is familiar. Only a few steps, apartment on the right side of the hall.

“Let me get my keys,” you mumble, tugging your arm away from his and pulling your keychain out of your pocket. You’d opted not to bring a purse to your surgery, thinking you’d be riding the bus home mostly blind, so you’ve got virtually nothing to dig through before offering your keyring up.

They’re taken, you hear the familiar jungling soun, and then you’re being guided into your apartment by a firm hand placed at the small of your back. You can’t help but sigh deeply in relief, the familiarity of your home a comfort when you still feel so unachored without your sight.

“Very cute place you’ve got,” Johnny compliments, a smile audible in his voice.

“Thank you.” You hesitate just a moment before going on, unsure of how to phrase your next sentence. “And thank you for all the help getting home, Doctor, I really do appreciate it.”

A.k.a., I’m safe, you can leave.

“Aye, of course!” Johnny says, sounding almost offended like you were implying he wouldn’t usually take his patients home. Another part of you relaxes - he probably does this for every patient he sees at the end of a workday, you’re certainly nothing special. “Now, let’s get you settled nice and snug in bed, and then I’ll be on my merry way.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to-”

“Nonsense!” You’re cut off as he drops a heavy hand onto the nape of your neck, ignoring your slightly dramatic flinch and guiding you forward. “I’ve gotten you this far, would be a shame if I left you now and you took a tumble, hm?”

“I think I can get around my own apartment well enough, “ you try to protest, a little huff of offense escaping without your permission.

“Well, now we won’t have to test that theory.”

He moves quickly and just seconds later you’re sort of shoved onto your bed - almost oddly high off the ground, but you chalk it up to the way you stumble onto it.

Johnny scoops your feet up, laughs a little at your yelp and lays you out on the bed. You blink up into the dark glasses, a little gobsmacked at the sudden shift and odd amount of manhandling from the doctor.

“Do you have any pain meds, love? We wouldn’t want you wakin’ up in the middle of the night, all uncomfortable and hurt. Something light, like Advil or Tylenol?”

“Um, yes,” you stutter a bit, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and glancing up at where you hear his voice. “In my bathroom, on the counter. But Dr. MacTav-”

A hand presses into the center of your chest, forcing you back to the bed with a little oof before your hear him walk away. “Johnny, lass! What’ll I have to do to get you to call me the proper name, hm?”

His voice is almost jovial, and you hear him muttering to himself a bit through the open door of your bathroom before he returns. You hear water running for a moment, and then his shoes on the carpet of your bedroom as he comes back.

“Here,” he says as he grasps your hand, holding it palm open and dropping two pills into it. “And you had a spare cup in the bathroom, so you won’t have to swallow dry.”

“Thank… thank you, Doc- Johnny, truly, I appreciate it.”

You swallow dryly, suddenly thankful for the glass of water. The pills are small in your palm, familiar but there’s something in the back of your head screaming at you. You run your fingers over them absentmindidly, the stinging itch in your eyes growing.

Johnny scoops an arm around your shoulders, helping you sit up a bit and guiding the glass to your lips. “Here you are, lass, quick sip.”

You listen, then pop the pills into your mouth and swallow them with the water.

“Good girl,” Johnny hums, his voice vibrating through your side. His hand squeezes the shoulder in his grasp, and you shudder out a breath at the odd… intimacy? That doesn’t quite feel like the right word, but affection feels too distant for how close he holds himself.

You’re guided back down, head resting on a somewhat-flat pillow, and Johnny moves down to the end of the bed to take off your shoes.

Now that you’re resting in bed, it hits you how exhausted you are. The past few days of worrying over your procedure, the actual stress of the surgery itself, and the odd tension you’ve carried since all leave you feeling drained entirely once your head hits the pillow.

“We’ll get these shoes off so you’re nice and comfortable,” you hear Johnny say, his voice a little muffled now that you’re nearly half-asleep already. “Tired, lass?”

You only hum a bit, curling onto your side once both of your shoes are off, the sound of them thudding on the carpet almost silent. Your nose scrunches a bit as you get your first scent of the pillow. It doesn’t quite smell right, the lingering air of shampoo is definitely not one you’re familiar with.

There’s a shift of weight against your back, then a hand stroking over your head.

“Just sleep, bonnie. I’ll watch out for you.”

There’s a part of you, still awake enough, that thinks that isn’t right. But the more major part of you is already asleep.

———————————————————————

Johnny can’t help but smile as he watches you sleep. The little trail of drool dripping from your lips onto his pillow, the soft sounds of your breathing, the twitches to your expression as you dream.

You’re truly adorable. He’d known it as soon as you came for a consultation about the surgery, and every moment spent after has only cemented that in his head. Even the way you tensed and squirmed in his chair while he was working was cute, your desperation to be good and listen overpowering your fear of what he was doing.

He reflects on the day as he gets undressed, folding his clothes on your dresser. You’d been very nervous, and even his most soothing tone and friendly conversation topics hadn’t done much to help. It’s natural - nobody’s ever at ease with a scalpel held over their eye - but he’d still felt a little dissapointed that his presense wasn’t of much help calming you down.

But it’s alright. You’ll learn very soon that you can trust him.

It was easier than he’d expected to get you back to his home. You’re far too trusting, apparently - another reason it’s for the best if he keeps an eye on you - and past some clear tension in your stance, you hadn’t fought him once or even tried to make sure he had taken you to the right place.

Johnny’s certainly not going to complain, though. His plan had been half-baked at best. Honestly if you’d even put up a slight bit of resistance, he probably would have taken you back home - your home - and gone back to the drawing board.

He can’t help but smile a bit. The fact that you hadn’t fought at all is just more proof that this was meant to be.

He climbs over your body, his naked skin brushing against your clothes. You don’t shift at all as he rolls you to your back, your face still relaxed in sleep. His smile grows.

“Pretty girl,” he coos, brushing a hand over your face. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

It’s easy to push your shirt up your stomach. He doesn’t take it off, not quite willing to risk that much movement while the drugs could still be settling in.

God, the way you’d just taken his pills with no hesitation, with just complete and total trust in him to do right by you. It makes his cock stifen against your stomach, the way you’d just listened and trusted him.

He moans as he finally pushes your shirt up to your collarbones, the sight of your tits bringing him to full hardness almost immediately. You’d dressed up for him, soft white lace wrapped around your beautiful chest.

He ducks down to suck a peak into his mouth, tonguing at a nipple through the fabric. He groans a bit at the taste of your skin, muted as it is, and quickly tugs down the cup of the bra to get a real bite of you.

He could lay there at your tits for hours, he just knows it. He kisses his way across your chest, gives your other nipple some love and thumbing at the first with a free hand. He forces his movements to stay soft and slow, resists the urge to bite and leave a ring of teeth marks around your areola.

“Taste so good, baby,” he whispers as he pushes himself up, admiring the shiny spit across your skin. He rubs it in a little, spreading himself across any place his lips hadn’t touched. “Gonna let me get a taste of your pussy too?”

Obviously you don’t respond. Still, Johnny smiles down at you and moves to pet your stomach.

“Yeah, I know you will. Just wanna be a good girl for me, hm?”

Of course you do, he already knows you’ll be good to him - be good for him.

It’s easy to wrap his hands around your waist and flip you gently to your stomach. He guides your head to the side and pulls your hair away to make sure he can get a good view of your pretty face, leans down to give you a soft kiss on the cheek and breathes in the scent of your bodywash and shampoo.

Your pants are easy enough to get off, and he forces himself to tug them all the way off both legs before even looking at your sweet little ass. He’d been staring at any chance he could all day, had kept his eyes glued to your backside for the entire elevator ride up to his apartment when he was sure you couldn’t see his leering.

Now he can’t help but groan aloud when he kneels over your thighs, the sight of you vulnerable and limp beneath him almost too much to handle.

“C’mon, spread your knees for me, lass,” he mutters, slowly moving your legs to the side and moving between them. He’s careful as he props you up onto your knees, folding them beneath you and making sure to balance you with one hand on your hip so you don’t fall to the side.

He’s nearly drooling as he gets his first sight of your core - lips just slightly spread, pretty pink pussy peeking out at him. It’s almost too much, he has to give himself a few quick jerks just to lessen the ache building in his cock.

“Look at you,” he says on a sigh, dipping his head low enough to breathe in your scent. He hikes your hips up a little higher to keep you at the right angle, quickly shushes your little noise of discontent at the shift.

“It’s alright, you’re ok,” he reassures, petting over your hip a few times to calm your unconscious mind. “Just wanna make you feel good, pretty thing. You got nothin’ to worry about.”

He licks you, from clit to ass, to help you calm down a bit more. It works - your body goes a little more limp in his hold, your back arching more easily into the position he wants. He licks you several more times, groaning as he tries to cover every inch of your cunt, tasting every piece of skin he can. He lays his tongue flat at first, then uses the tip to make sure he doesn’t miss a spot.

“So good,” he moans, burying his face into your center and just breathing there for a moment. There’s a little bit of slick beginning to drip from your hole, but not much. He licks it up anyway, savoring the taste and promising to feast later.

He stays glued to your clit for a bit, taking the little bud between his lips and running the tip of his tongue over it again and again until he finds the exact spot that makes your thighs twitch, the pattern that has you whining every other breath.

Johnny moves back up, laps at the sweet nectar dripping steadily from you now. Every little flick of his tongue arouses you more, and no matter how long he keeps his mouth on you he knows he’d never run out of your taste.

It’s with only a bit of reluctance that he pulls away. He spreads both of your cheeks with his palms, admiring your two tight little holes and the sheen covering your most sensitive spots. He’d like to give your ass a few smacks, paint it red and watch you squirm, but he’s not sure how much sensation he can give you without pulling you from the drugs’ hold.

Which is also why he tucks a few fingers into your cunt, just to stretch you out. He’d like to fuck into you without any prep at all, watch your pretty face scrunch up as you’re spread on the thickest cock you’d ever taken (and he knows he’s the biggest you’ve had). Maybe you would even cry a little, blink teary eyes up at him and ask him to slow down.

He groans at the image, scissoring his fingers inside of you to prepare you as quickly as he can.

It’s easy to ease himself forward and line his cockhead up with your little hole. He knows another finger would’ve been a kindness, but with how his cock throbs between his legs he’s not sure he’ll make it very long once he’s finally inside of you.

So he taps the tip against your leaking hole, snorts quietly when the thought pops into his head that he’s almost knocking on a door, then slowly lets himself sink inside of your heat. He’s stares transfixed at the way your body opens for him so easily, a smooth coming together that he wishes he never had to look away from.

He keeps a secure grip on your hips, letting gravity do most of the work as his hips push forward steadily. His head rolls back on his neck, mouth hanging open and grunts spilling from his lips as your tight heat envelops him further and further.

He pauses halfway in to take a breather, just so he doesn’t come before his balls even meet your clit. Your body’s grip on him is unlike anything he’s ever felt, and he knos he made the right choice in bringing you home with him.

It’s hard, but Johnny manages to control himself and keep from fucking you too roughly. His thrusts are long and slow if a little extra harsh, and he stares down at your scrunched up little face and imagines all the filthy ways he’ll have you in the coming weeks.

You shift on your knees when he hits a particularly nice spot, little whines pouring from your throat on exhales. His thrusts nearly punch the air from your body, and he finds himself breathing in sync with you as he loses himself more and more to the pleasure.

He slips a hand from your waist to your clit as he gets closer. It would be awfully selfish of him to leave you needy after getting himself off, and he’s not about to deny himself the tight clench of your body as he brings you to climax.

It takes a little bit of trial and error to figure out what feels good for you - he can’t quite discern the difference between a nose scrunch of frustration and one of pleasure - but the steady pumps of his hips and the constant motions against your clit quickly bring you to the edge.

Your cunt tightens deliciously around him as you finally come, but the true beauty is in the way you go absolutely boneless beneath him. He has to firm up his grip on your waist just to keep you from sinking flat on the bed, huffing a laugh as he thrusts just a bit faster, just enough to get himself there too.

He lets his head fall beside yours as the two of you ride out your climaxes together, staring wide-eyed at the way your face relaxes into the pleasure. He leans forward enough to mesh your lips together, messily forcing your mouth open and licking at your tongue.

It’s not the best kiss - he has to do all the work, and he ends up soaking both of your chins in spit - but he relishes in it anyway. Your first kiss together is something he knows he’ll want to remember for years to come.

He hardly notices as he slips from your body, tingles shooting through every nerve leaving him mostly unaware of his body’s functions. He hardly has the energy to make sure he doesn’t crush you beneath him, instead laying beside you and tucking you into his chest.

“Thank you, bonnie,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “That was fantastic. Can’t wait to do it again, maybe you’ll do a bit more next time, yeah?” He laughs a little at his own joke, snuggling you close to him and letting his eyes shut slowly.

———————————————————————

You’re not sure how long it’s been when you wake up next, but you can tell immediately that something isn’t right.

First of all, you’re half naked. And you can tell you’re half naked because your legs are being cradled by someone else’s naked legs. And you know for a fact that you didn’t bring anyone home with you.

Except… it occurs to you slowly as you finally blink stinging eyes open, except you did. Dr. MacTavish brought you home.

And you let him into your apartment. You just handed your keys over to a man you hardly knew, let him guide you right to bed without any sort of fight.

Your head pounds with a vengeance, right behind your already hurting eyes.

You let him give you pills, too. You remember that, though it’s the last thing you remember. He asked where your pain meds were and you didn’t even bother to check that he’d given you what you expected. You just swallowed them with water, like this was a man you could trust.

The slight soreness between your thighs tells you that you couldn’t.

The tears that begin to gather in your eyes hurt, which makes you want to cry even more. You can’t hold back a sniffle, then a hiccup, then what sounds more like sobs than anything else.

You bring your hands up to cover your mouth, briefly recoil and the weight over your torso.

You can’t bring yourself to look, but you know who’s in bed with you.

Johnny wakes up just minutes later, shifting and making a soft sound of confusion. It must not take him long to put the pieces together because it only takes him a few seconds to start cooing, his rough palm cupping your face over your own hands.

“Lass?” He hums, and from your peripheral you see his brows furrow. It’s only a slight comfort that you even can see. “What’s wrong?”

That almost gets a laugh out of you. You nearly choke on the sound, spit catching in your throat. “What’s- what’s wrong?”

He sighs, like he already knows. Of course he knows. He has to know.

“Don’t be upset.” He leans a little closer, and to your horror you feel him press his lips against your forehead. “You can be awake next time, yeah? Then you won’t feel so left out.”

“Left out,” you echo, a strain of horror making its way into your voice.

“But only if you can be good,” he clarifies. “No fighting me now. Just keep being good for me and you can stay awake, alright?”

“Good…” You feel like a robot, but the combination of your headache and the absurdity of your situation leaves you unable to process what’s happening.

It processes much faster when you feel one of his hands slide up the shirt you’re - by some miracle - still wearing. It’s instinctual to jerk up the bed and away when he goes straight for one of your breasts.

“Get- get off me!” Your voice is nearly a shriek, the pitch sending a shock of pain up your skull.

You don’t make it very far in your tiny escape attempt, Johnny quickly hefting himself above you and pinning you down with his weight.

“Now, lass,” he scolds, face set in a frown that you can’t tell is sarcastic or serious. “What did I just say?”

You can’t make yourself speak, fingers trembling beside your head as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“C’mon,” he goads, dropping his weight a little lower. “Just gotta do one thing for me to stay awake, tell me what it was.”

“I’m not-” you gasp a big breath, blinking up at the man above you. “I’m not fucking calming down! Get off of me, you freak, how dare you-”

“Alright!” He nearly shouts, drowning you out. “That’s enough of that. Back to sleep with you, I think. We’ll see if you can handle participating next time.”

He’s leaned to the side before you can really register what he’s said, scooping two little white pills into his palm and coming back over you.

“Open wide,” he taunts, lips curled into a small smirk as he holds his closed fist above your mouth.

Every instinct in you says to scream and shout, to fight back. But he’s got you pinned with your arms stuck between the two of you, unable to lift your hands and cover your mouth, so you clamp your lips as tightly shut as you can to keep him out.

Johnny only sighs, like you’re making his drugging terribly inconvenient. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out his face, praying that you’ll open them and this will all just be a terrible nightmare.

“Really, lass?” He complains, his free hand reaching up to pinch your nose. Without anything to hold him up, you’re nearly crushed beneath his body weight. “Very mature. I can pinch far longer than you can hold your breath, y’know. You’re making this difficult for no good reason.”

Your eyes fly open at that, glaring up at him with what you hope is a scathing look.

He only laughs.

“Very cute,” he hums, rubbing his nose against your cheek. Your chest burns from the lack of air. “I think you’ll be just perfect to keep around the house. You’ll brighten this place in all the right ways, won’t you?”

Your eyes well with tears as black stars begin to dance across your vision. Completely against your own will, your lips part and you suck in a deep breath.

Johnny doesn’t waste any time - you nearly choke on the pills as they fly down your throat with the air you desperately inhale. You nearly choke, hacking with tears streaming from your eyes, but Johnny just holds a hand over your mouth and brings you both up enough to harshly pat your back.

“There you go, you’re ok,” he mumbles in your ear, rubbing the place he’d slapped as your chest heaves with desperate breaths. The pills leave an uncomfortable lump in your throat, and you reach up to rub at it as if that will make it any better.

He stays like that, holding you close, for several long heartbeats.

“Good girl,” he hums, lips pressing to your temple and the sound rumbling through the contact. “I hope you won’t make me do that next time, I’d much rather you be awake for this next part.”

He lays you back slowly, and you distantly wonder what on Earth he’s given you to knock you out so quickly. Already your eyes feel heavier and you’ve hardly swallowed. You try to keep your eyes open as long as possible, which leaves you staring up at Johnny as he hovers above you.

“It’s not the worst thing, though,” he whispers, hand cupping your cheek and thumb passing your undereye. “I don’t mind having you like this, soft and sweet for me.”

Your eyes finally flutter shut just as you feel your legs being nudged apart.

#im not 12 hours late you're 12 hours late. and what about it?#john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap cod #soap smut #john mactavish smut #johnny mactavish smut #bo writes #kinktober day 12 #soap mactavish smut #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #kinktober 2023 #soap x reader #kinktober #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #dark fic

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holycryptid · 1 month

Text

Tears of Blood

König x AFAB!reader (no pronouns/gendered language).

Explicit content (18+)

Word count: 3.0k

Tags/warnings: unprotected sex, light choking, mentions of murder/blood (look who we’re working with), mentions of ghostsoap (yay!), explicit language, some fluff, dry humping, friends with benefits…? (let me know if anything was missed!)

Summary: König reveals a very compelling detail about himself while you prepare him for tomorrow's deployment—also inspired by this post/ask and bluegiragi’s art <3

Notes: this has been posted on AO3 for over a year and i just straight up forgot to post it here, too…oops

The barracks are eerily quiet after curfew. So quiet, in fact, that a ghost couldn’t even float around without being heard. Sometimes there is one, he’s just not of the conventional sort.

You’ve learned that Soap gladly let’s his room be haunted most nights.

König never says a word about it. If he did, he’d be a hypocrite. Especially now, as he drifts to the door of your room: after curfew.

By now, you know to leave it unlocked for him. You don’t know when it started becoming habit, but it did. A mindless gesture that makes his lips quirk under the hood when he turns the knob and feels the door give in with no resistance.

You’ve grown used to seeing his figure loom in the doorway, but sometimes your brain forgets it’s just him, and your heart instinctually stutters a beat out of fear as you see the shadows from the dim lighting hug around his broad, towering form—just as imposing and threatening even without the gear.

You’ve mentally noted that not everyone that casts their gaze, usually a fearful and watery one, upon him lives to do so again. But you are fortunate. You never let yourself forget what he’s been trained to do—what he does. He doesn’t like to indulge in it much, if at all, and his hesitance to do so makes you think it’s better if you don’t know the complicated details anyway.

KorTac has quite a different reputation than the 141. König helped make sure of that.

You finish folding the rest of your civvies, tucking them away in their small drawer, and toss a look over your shoulder to the man lingering in the doorway. “See any ghosts?” you muse, prompting König to step in and lock the door behind him.

A breathy chuckle fills the room. “Didn’t see anything, but I wish these rooms were soundproof.”

“Oh, no.” You hold a cackle, hand slapped over your mouth as you meet his amused eyes through the rough-edged holes of his hood.

“Well, that’s just Soap for you. Not even Ghost can shut him up, I guess.” You plop onto your bed with a sigh to compose yourself.

You know Soap will indulge you later.

“So, how may I be of service to the king?” You offer a playful smile as he stands at the foot of your bed. The unexpected nickname making him more interested in the flooring.

He brings a finger up to the black hood, hooking it in by his jaw and pulling to reveal a sizeable gash in the fabric. A close call with a knife if you ever saw one. “Needle and thread.”

He unhooks his finger and drags the worn material off of his head, then the plain black balaclava that hides him further under it follows. He drops both onto your clean sheets in front of him, rounding the corner of the bed and joining you.

Dark red hair flops over his forehead and hangs in thick, wavy strands. It hasn’t quite reached his shoulders yet, but it’s long enough to have a mind of its own. It’s a colour you don’t come across too often; maybe comparable to a chestnut, or old leaves in autumn before they disappear under a blanket of snow.

“Jeez, you ever gonna cut this?” You turn to face him and run a hand up the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in the dense locks and lightly scratching his scalp on the way down.

Soft blue eyes glance to you, still outlined in black from earlier. “Probably not. Can’t find the time.” His accent gently rounds out the vowels as he leans into your touch.

“Let me braid it for you, then. To hold it back. I know you deploy again tomorrow.” You tuck a strand behind his ear, following with a fleeting kiss right above his cheekbone. A faint blush creeps over his temples and the barely-there freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks.

“I promise it won’t be the worst thing ever,” you gently plead. “You can mend your hood in peace while I do it?”

You’ve definitely done worse together. But worse always seems to be easier.

“Okay.”

Usually these nights don’t go like this.

3 days ago

“Oh, that’s good—right there. Yeah. Yeah,” you nearly sob. König holds you against him, left arm reaching across your chest and hand comfortably gripping your throat as you try to roll your hips back against him harder.

His other hand is between your thighs—on your clit—which are dangling over his own to keep you spread. You’re trapped there; under his arms and over his legs as he jerks his hips up to meet your disjointed riding on the rickety office chair.

An empty briefing room. Not really smart, but Soap passed on that it was “out of service” until next week, not knowing that you’d end up in there sat on König’s cock later that afternoon.

The fabric of König’s hood rubs uncomfortably against your cheek, making you drop your head back onto his shoulder to escape it.

A breathy moan rushes past his lips as you arch your back. “No, no. You’re staying right here.” He tightens and corrects the grip he has across your chest, sliding his gloved fingers up under your jaw to keep you locked in place.

His cock slides itself in and out of you with little resistance, which would usually be slightly embarrassing if it was anyone else inside you, but the way he’s been massaging your clit with such attentiveness and grinding his hips into yours makes you forget anything you could be worried about.

The only thing you can think of right now is how good this orgasm is going to be.

Your hands snake themselves up his arm that’s pinned to your front to grip his wrist, holding on for dear life as his small thrusts become rougher. “You get much, much wetter when you’re close,” he observes. His index finger holds a steady rhythm on your clit as it works counterclockwise over you. “Fuck, I can hear it…can you?”

A whine bubbles in your throat. The zipper of his cargo pants bites against your ass on every downstroke, and you can feel how wet you’ve made the front of his pants. That’s what he gets for only caring enough to pull his cock out while he ripped your cargos off entirely.

“I—fuck. Yes, I’m close, yes,” you choke out, daring to cast your gaze upon where your bodies are connected.

You’re swollen and slick and you can hear it, too. The quick, sharp slaps of his hips against your ass does little to hide the hungry squelching of your cunt. You’ve probably dripped all down his balls at this point. He’s always happier with a big mess in the end anyway.

“Cum when you’ve had enough, Schatzi,” he chirps in your ear, breathless and lost in the wet, suffocating warmth of you—all his doing, of course. The result of far too many minutes spent with his thick cock gently sliding between your folds and nudging itself over your throbbing clit, just to be annoying, before he moved you both to the chair.

You drag in a heavy breath, focusing on the stretch of his cock deep inside your walls as the chair creaks with every desperate drop onto him.

Schatzi. “W-what does that mean?”

You’ve naturally picked up a few German words and phrases here and there from time spent with him, but this one was new. A term of endearment? A degrading nickname? Either could be possible in this moment. The sound and pronunciation couldn’t be more ambiguous to you.

“König?” It came out as a whisper, quickly silenced by the release of your orgasm throughout your body as he forces you down to the base of his cock.

—

You haven’t brought it up since. Neither has he.

Even now it sits in the back of your mind as you divide his hair down the middle into two parts. You remain on your bed, he sits on the floor between your knees with a needle and black thread in hand that he retrieved from the bedside table (stashed there specifically for him).

He lays the hood over his left arm and begins to stitch it quietly as you wind three generous strands of his hair between your fingers at the front of his scalp, pulling taught at the root. You carefully thread more hair in from the sides to have it lay perfectly against the top of his skull when finished. You’ll do a matching one on the right side.

“Let me know if it hurts at all,” you warn as you begin tugging more hair into place.

“Ha, I’ve faced adversaries far worse than your little hands,” he laughs, adjusting the hood in his hand as he pokes the needle in again.

The long vermillion markings under the eye sockets stare back at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, I don’t doubt that.”

It’s hard to not be curious about all of the parts that make up “König”. The mask is one of them.

“Why the tears?” you ask confidently while you establish the first braid.

“Hm?” He quirks his head to follow your voice, pausing the followthrough with the thread as you give an accidental yank to his hair.

“Your mask…under the eyes. Why tears?” You figured it was either something symbolic or just his personal taste. Everyone’s got a gimmick.

It seems like every aspect of his existence is a test of one’s curiosity, and you may have just failed.

He focuses his attention back on the stitch he was occupied with. “Fear tactic.” Oh.

Short and sweet. Simple and straightforward. It makes sense—

“I make them with the blood of my targets.” Oh.

Your fingers lose their rhythm for a moment, caught off-guard by the admission. Not so much surprised by the fact that he would do something like that, but rather that he confessed such a thing…to you.

“So you do that…presently?” How could you resist following up about that? It’s the perfect snare. This is the most you’ve gotten from him in weeks.

A beat of measured silence, yet it’s not uncomfortable. He likes to think about what to say, how to say it, before speaking his thoughts spontaneously.

“Only if I believe it’s truly deserved,” he explains. His tone doesn’t reveal if he’s displeased with the topic of work. “The blood actually doesn’t hold up against the black on its own, so Horangi suggested using bleach underneath so it will show better. If needed.” He runs a finger over a washed-out tear track. “Less maintenance with the chemical.”

It’s…it’s morbid, obviously, but you’re not sure if you expected anything less from someone in this line of work. And, of course, leave it to Horangi to feed the fantasy. They are nearly inseparable, besides the times that König’s with you.

Sometimes it’s hard to imagine him as murderous or malevolent—König, who has the most gentle, innocent blue eyes that have offered nothing but kindness to you, even in moments of fierce, consuming pleasure. König, who you’ve never seen, or heard, raise his voice at anyone in anger. König, who despises small talk because he can’t stand the awkwardness.

König, who enjoys the vibrant red sunsets on base and thunderstorms. König, who prefers blueberries over strawberries. König, who is obsessed with entomology books.

But there’s still another part of him that can take out entire platoons of enemies and have no more than a rip in his beloved hood afterwards.

The man under the facade of a callsign and reputation is someone who you may never truly meet, no matter how much he reveals. It feels like you’ve only met half of him despite knowing as much as you do about him, and that fact has settled as an ache in your chest.

“I see…I know it’s not really my place to ask about that stuff, but it’s hard to not wonder about you sometimes.” You’ve reached the end of the first braid, leaving the tail to sit at the crown of his head amongst the uneven layers he has going on.

You tie it off with a small black elastic. It’s a little messy considering the awkward length of his hair, but it looks like it’s meant to be there.

“It’s fine. I’m a big boy, I think I can handle it.” He gives a comforting laugh, amused at your timidness.

In every facet, he’s right. You can’t help but nod your head in agreement with a small smile, despite the fact that he can’t see your expression. “Well, I can’t disagree with you there.”

You begin the start of the second, and final, braid, grabbing the three strands at the front and twisting them into place as he speaks again. “I know it was my size that drew you to me in the first place,” he states confidently, shoulders shaking in amusement at the tease.

Your mouth gapes in feigned offence. “Wow, okay. Is that a crime?”

“No, not in my eyes. Look, look,” he brushes past the sarcasm, holding and stretching the now intact hood out in front of him to see the effectiveness of his handiwork. The seam is near invisible in the sea of black fabric (a ratty t-shirt).

It’s definitely better than the last one he did a few weeks ago. “Damn, that’s pretty fucking impressive. I’m almost done, hold on.” You hurry to tie off the hair, gently holding the sides of his head to see how even they came out. “Looks good, from up here at least. Come sit, let me see the front.” You pat one of his shoulders, freeing him from the cage of your legs and scooting further onto your bed.

“Danke. My spine didn’t love that, though,” he says with a theatric exhale.

He folds the hood in his lap, setting it on the bedside table with the needle and roll of thread. He all but tumbles back onto the soft sheets, groaning as he stretches his neck and shoulders out and lays comfortably on his back, long legs hanging over the side of the mattress.

His eyes flutter shut from the homely feeling of being in—or on—your bed. “Mm, I think I’ll stay here tonight.”

You acknowledge his thought with a small hum as you lean over his restful form to quickly assess his hair, dragging your fingertips along each side lightly. The shaggy hair will always suit him. It frames his cheekbones and jaw perfectly.

König opens his eyes at your touch. “So how does it look, doc? Will I survive deployment now?”

Another smile from you with a slight roll of your eyes. “I think it’ll do the job. Now go clean the black off your eyes if you’re staying. I don’t want it all over my pillows again.”

—

Soap saw the braids in König’s hair the next day before they deployed. An accident or purposefully, you’re not sure yet.

And now, two days later, he still won’t shut the fuck up about it.

“Would ye do that for me?” he asks, playfully quirking a thick brow.

“Probably not, no.”

An arm shoots out accusingly at you in disbelief. “That’s my point! I—”

“Wouldn’t be able to anyway with that fucking landing strip you call a mohawk.” You poorly stifle a laugh with a tight-lipped smirk.

“Away n’ bile yer heid, I’m just trying to help!” He rubs a hand over his eyes, trying to stave off his laughter too. It’s hard to be in his presence and not be overcome with a state of lively energy.

You’re in Soap’s—and sometimes Ghost’s—room, for no real reason other than company while König is at a (delayed) briefing.

Soap’s sitting on his—and sometimes Ghost’s—bed hounding you about the complex being that is König just because he can. You move about the room, finding things to tidy and organize to busy your mind.

“Have ye gone to town on each other yet?”

“Dude!?” You rip a pillow from under him and whack his head. Hard. His infectious cackling now muffled through the thick pillow.

“You’re insufferable. How the fuck does Ghost put up with you?” You try to suppress your giggling as you drop the pillow and join him on the bed in defeat.

A mischievous grin lines his lips at the question. “Well, he t—”

“No! No. Nope. I don’t need to know. It was rhetorical.” You hold up a hand to silence him, bringing it to cover his mouth. His day-old scruff pricks your palm as he tries to talk through your hand.

“Whatever you say next better be insightful or profound or else I’m gonna suffocate you with your own pillow.”

Soap, in fact, didn’t have anything insightful or profound to say about the situation.

—

König wanders into your room again that night, and he’s filled with a gluttonous desire to consume you in any way that he can.

It’s the least he can do for you. It’s the most you can do for him.

You rut against his clothed cock, straddling his hips tightly while your hands keep a death-grip on his hair. Once again, you find yourself on your bed with him under you, the clock on the bedside table glaring the angry red 12:56am.

His large hands have found their home on your ass, encouraging your pussy—still covered by your underwear—to rock harder over his length, which is still trapped in his briefs.

He breaks away from your mouth when you give a rather forceful roll over him, a surprised gasp slipping through his now rosy lips. His grip on your ass slides down to your quivering thighs, rubbing over them soothingly as you work.

A harmony of softs whines and rough groans dance around the room as your pliant bodies move together. “This is somehow better than sex,” König mumbles, mostly to himself. “I don’t want to admit it, but I can cum like this if you don’t stop,” he adds with an overwhelmed huff. “Fuck, I will cum like this if you don’t stop,” he moans.

You let him, and he holds you tight as if you were something other than casual.

#konig x reader #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig smut #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #call of duty fic #könig imagine #konig smut #konig cod #konig imagine #konig x you #konig x reader smut #konig x you smut

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l0v3tast3 · 1 year

Note

AHH Hello!!! I absolutely love your writing, it’s so good!!!!

I was wondering…

Y/n always wear a mask to conceal her identity, in hopes the 141 doesn’t find out that Makarov is her father!!

141 had captured Makarov for interrogation, and y/n is there. As the interrogation continues, they start to notice that y/n and Makarov know each other, by the subtle little informality they spoke to one another. And the truth starts to come out, little by little!!!!

✎ tysm i love you :(( i absolutely love this idea the angst potential is just *chef's kiss* i'm sorry this one took like over a month to make oops, also i tried to keep personal details abt the reader as vague as possible, pls let me know if there's something i can fix!!

✎ tags: female reader, military reader, major daddy issues, violence, mentions of blood, hurt/barely any comfort if at all, not proofread im too cool for that,

✎ word count: 2,704

the silence in the cold, gray interrogation room was so thick that you were choking on it. you knew you had just fucked up, badly.

you had done so well so far, too. you're fabricated identity had fooled everyone. the name you had chosen stuck, and no one ever noticed your old one threatening to jump from your mouth when you introduced yourself. you always kept the childhood memories and little anecdotes vague. you stuck to your rehearsed lines better than a world-famous actor. you did every single thing right.

and now, here he was, your own blood, fucking it all up for you, again.

technically, he had made you fuck it up for yourself. it was just how makarov worked; he was a spider weaving a web in the corner, watching, waiting. this man, your supposed father, didn't know anything real about you. he didn't know you as a father should know his daughter. but he knew which buttons to press.

he only knew what to say to you when it would allow him the opportunity of watching you fall a little deeper towards rock bottom.

you knew that the room had cameras covering every square inch, and the microphones ensured that you're accidental admission to your heritage was heard by your entire task force.

there was a red hot pit opening inside of you, caving your insides in like a black hole and threatening to consume your entire being. it was rage, you realized. something you only ever seemed to feel in the presence of one person.

you briefly considered killing him, right there and then. was this really the straw that broke your back? it truly was just another thing to add to the list. you had known he would do this.

no, you were angry at yourself.

on the other side of the door, the four men of the 141 task force were all stood still in shock. what the hell did you just say?

none of them wanted to believe it. they especially didn't want to admit that it made sense. you had done a fucking fantastic job of hiding it, they'll admit that, but even you couldn't hide everything.

price saw the way you tensed when you were passed laswell's photo of makarov in the bar, after you had all put an end to hassan's plan. he saw the way you dropped it and slid it to the next person quickly, as if touching the picture had burned your fingertips.

soap had asked you if you were okay more than once during the plane ride to russia. you were so restless, so different from your usual grounded self. you just said you were having some flying anxiety. he felt stupid now for writing it off so easily.

and kyle, the first one to trust you (and to even really talk to you), he had seen the anger sparking off of you while you shot your way through the tower to get to makarov. floor after floor, bullet after bullet, you had paved a path of blood through the mercenaries. he wondered if someone else had taken your mask and gear and was pretending to be you.

simon saw the fear in you when you all got to the last door. you had been so quick in your endeavor to get here, but he saw you hesitate to follow them in. he saw how you never took your wide eyes off of him, and how you stayed a few steps back, moving far out of the way when price began to escort him out in handcuffs.

and when they had asked you to go into the interrogation room, they all saw how you stopped breathing, and the sweat collecting on what little skin they could see above your mask. you had stuttered when you quietly agreed.

when you stepped into the room, makarov took one look at your eyes, and you knew he recognized you. no, he recognized the hatred. and it made him smile.

now, sitting in the cold metal chair, you realized that it wasn't just one mistake, but a series of them; you had let him unravel you, again. you understood, finally, that he saw you as he did everyone else. he saw you as someone that held him back.

part of you had always known, ever since you were young, still single-digits, and he would only visit you once every few months, if that. you had elected to ignore it. now you couldn't.

you couldn't move. behind you was the door that would lead you to the consequences of your actions. in front of you was the reason for those actions.

this is what you had wanted, wasn't it? it was like something snapped back into place, and you suddenly remembered that everything you had done up until now, every time you put the mask on before leaving your room, every lie you had told and every person you had killed had been to get you here. in front of your father. you remembered that the image of him with a bullet between his eyes was what kept you going.

if you killed him, would it finally absolve you? the gun on your hip felt twenty pounds heavier now. your fingers, folded together in your lap with a white-knuckle grip, felt like lead. would this sin make all the other wrongs right?

a tiny voice was telling you to just walk away, let the team's wrath come down on you and let them deal with makarov, but you had already thrown the table between you towards the wall, he was already on the ground with your hands wrapped around his throat.

you were yelling, no, screaming at him. all the compacted feelings from years and years of being as quiet as possible came up like vomit, spewing out in a mess that could never be cleaned up.

there were more than just makarov's hands on you, pushing and pulling you away from him and dragging you out of the room, kicking and screeching to let you just finally kill him, while two other blurry shapes hauled him back into his own chair.

the heavy metal door shut behind the two people practically carrying you, and they finally let you go. you stumbled a few steps away, whirling around for the next target of your fury.

your captain and lieutenant were standing in front of you, both tensed, waiting for you to do something. you couldn't exactly make out their faces- were you crying?

"what in the bloody hell just happened in there?" price snarled. it was the voice he used when he was face to face with his enemy.

"let me back in there." it was a demand. you needed to kill him.

"that's not gonna happen," simon barked. john and kyle had come out from the interrogation room to stand behind the other two men. "you need to explain, now."

they all stared at you with varying looks of anger and hurt. it wasn't the first time you'd ever had it directed at you, but this was somehow worse than all the others.

every cell in your body was shrieking at you to just run for the door, to somehow get through all four of these men, your teammates, your friends, and kill makarov. but their glares glued you to your spot.

"please-" your voice was trembling, years of grief and agony dripping from every word, "please, just let me kill him. you have to let me kill him." you spoke slowly and quietly, focusing on just trying to get the words out. you took a shaky breath and focused your eyes on a muddy bootprint on the floor. you didn't want to see the looks on their faces.

"you don't understand, you just- just let me back in there, please, i'll get whatever you need out of him, but he needs to die!" your voice was getting louder, and you briefly wondered if your father could hear you. "his men are probably already on their way here. don't you get it? if i don't kill him now, he will get out."

the men in front of you were more shocked now than anything at the change in your demeanor. you had been coined the "second ghost" throughout the units, partly for the mask, but also because of your detachment. you were kind, but you always held logic above emotion.

in front of them now was nothing short of a nervous wreck.

despite not moving, you were frantic. you were wringing your hands together, pressed tight against your stomach. your eyes darted from side to side, person to person, between them and the door to makarov.

price took a step forward and you took a step back. he was slow, bringing his hand up as if he were approaching a wild animal. if he was still angry, he was hiding it now.

"come on, kid, let's just get out of 'ere, eh? go somewhere away from him," he said lowly. the other three men watched tensely, not moving, but their hands still close to their guns. just in case.

"no, no- just let me- price, you need to let me back in there!" you were a broken record, you knew it, but there was nothing else to say, nothing else you could think about. this was what you had been waiting for, you were right where you had wanted to be for the past- how many years now? how long has he tormented you for now?

you could feel your father's presence in the next room like bugs crawling across your body. it made your head feel fuzzy and your hands shake. was it from rage or fear? you couldn't tell, so you chose the rage.

it was like bile stuck in your throat, all the pain makarov had caused you finally being unearthed. you wanted to throw it all up and spit it out onto him, lay your organs and hatred alike out on the table in front of him so he could see the decay. you wanted him to rot from the inside out like you had.

your eyes glanced at the door one last time before focusing on price. he was watching you, just a couple of steps in front of you now.

"let me back in there, john." it was a whisper, but still the steadiest thing you had spoken since they had dragged you out.

"no." he said your name quietly, and you heard it as the plea it was, but you're head decided it was done listening.

your body threw itself at him, swinging underneath his arms and onto his back to try and get him on the ground. the room exploded into yelling, and multiple pairs of hands were on you in an instant, hauling you off of price and forcing you face-down onto the ground with your hands behind your back.

cold metal latching around your wrists didn't stop your screaming and kicking, lashing out at the air around you. it didn't work well, because you were being hauled back to your feet and pushed into a separate interrogation room.

whoever was carrying you didn't bother with trying to attach your handcuffs to the table, basically throwing you in and slamming the door shut before you could get back on your feet.

outside the cell, the four men stood in silent shock. what was there to say, where would they even start? would they really be able to hear each other over your muffled screams to let you out?

you didn't know how long you had been in there once the door finally opens again, but you had stopped screaming and struggling to get out of the room. you had sat down at the table, your hands folded in front of you on the cold surface. you stared down at the blood beading and smearing around the handcuffs.

kyle squeezed in through the tiny amount he'd let the door open before he shut it quickly, keeping his eyes on you. you didn't look up, your red eyes staying fixed on one point even as he slowly moved closer. he followed them to see the red rings underneath the steel, and a pang of guilt squeezed his heart tight.

he sat down across from you, folding his hands in front of him on the table, mirroring you. you still hadn't looked up at him, or done anything to acknowledge his presence; you hadn't even moved.

"are you alright?" kyle implored. he kept his voice soft, bending over a little to try to look you in the eye.

it took you a few moments to respond; he almost started to think you didn't hear him before you opened your mouth slowly.

"is he dead?" you croaked.

kyle let out an audible sigh while he leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands up to drag them down his face.

"no, we still need him. you know that."

you didn't say anything after that.

after sitting in silence for two full minutes, he spoke up. "you realize not telling us about this makes you look really bad, yeah?"

"you don't trust me anymore?" you whispered it, like you didn't want him to hear and answer. you knew what he would say.

"you aren't making it very easy."

kyle wanted to trust you still. part of him was angry and confused as to why you had kept something like this from them. the other part, the bigger part of him, knew that you were on still on the same side of it all. and he knew the other three men felt the same, but they couldn't just dismiss this.

"we can work this out, ya' know. you just have to be honest with us," he added after you once again stayed silent.

"be honest?" you echoed. you finally looked up at him. "about what? you heard me. makarov is my father. i want him dead. that's all there is to say."

kyle took his turn to not speak, weighing your words, figuring out where to go from there.

"why didn't you tell us?" he finally asked.

you looked back down at your wrists. "if i had told you i was makarov's daughter before i joined the team, then all i would have ever been is makarov's daughter." you paused to take a deep, shaky breath. it was uncomfortable with your mask still on, wet with tears, but you refused to take it off, to give away the last piece of your identity that was still yours at the moment.

"it's something we should have known," he contended quickly. "we could have used the information you have-"

you cut him off, your eyes snapping back up to glare daggers at him. "you think i know anything more than you?" you barked. something between a laugh and a sob escaped your throat before you could continue. "i was eight years old the last time i saw him in person. i was raised by live-in nannies. he only visited, what, maybe twice a year? and i don't know why he even bothered, either."

your hands were clenched into tight fists, and the same sting that circled your wrists was appearing in your palms. you kept going though; you didn't know if you could stop now.

"every time i get somewhere, every time i start making a life for myself again, he fucks it all up. never showed his damn face, but it was him, it was always-" you finally cut yourself off, not wanting to drag more memories out from the dark.

"makarov may be my father, but i am not his daughter. i swear, kyle, i fucking swear it." you were pleading with him to believe you now. you needed them to understand.

you could see it in the way his eyebrows creased that he wanted to take your words as the truth. but he didn't say anything (what could he have said?).

the door opened once again, and price half-entered the room to wave kyle back out. he avoided your gaze, something he'd never done before. then you were alone again.

1K notes · View notes

thefloorisbalaclava · 1 year

Text

a first time for everything

▸pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader x john 'soap' mactavish ▸words: 3,841 ▸warnings: threesome, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, slight choking, oral sex (f receiving), spit as lube, anal play, anal sex, double penetration ▸summary: you, ghost, and soap have a small celebration that leads to confessions and so much more. ▸a/n: this has been on my mind for a while. i don't particularly like how this turned out, but hopefully someone out there does. sorry if either of our boys seem ooc. i tried my best.

👻[masterlist]👻

You sat quietly between the two large men that were practically sandwiching you. They did it on purpose. These two always knew what they were doing when it came to you.

It only took one slip-up to make your size kink known to them; since then, they have found ways to tease you here and there. You weren’t really shocked by Johnny; he was always the prankster. But Simon—he completely took you by surprise.

You looked at him from the corner of your eye, and he was already looking back. It frustrated you that you could never tell what was going on under that balaclava—was he smirking, pouting, biting his lip?

Biting his lip…

He nudged you with his large thigh, and you looked at him fully. Was he purposely manspreading even more just to get a rise out of you?

When you turned to Soap, he was beaming. You were wearing some of the bulkiest gear, yet he still found a way to trail his eyes up and down your body that made you feel naked.

“Pervert!” you said over the com, and he chuckled.

“Takes one to know one, lass. Don’t it, Lt?”

Simon looked at Soap, then at you. “No comment.”

That low rasp had you fidgeting in your seat. “I’m gonna stand,” you told them before pulling yourself up and looking out the helicopter’s open door. It made your head spin, but you needed the air.

“You okay?” Ghost asked. Both he and Soap knew about your fear of flying.

“Yup. Gotta be,” you responded over the comms so you wouldn’t have to turn your head to speak.

“Almost there. Hang in there for us, yeah?”

You nodded and hoped he saw it.

You couldn’t step off the helo fast enough. You closed your eyes, took a few deep breaths, and thanked whoever was listening for the feeling of the ground beneath your feet.

Both men joined you, once again taking their positions on either side of you.

“Here.” Soap offered you some of his water. You were about to point out that you had your own, but you didn’t want to turn him down.

“Thanks.”

He watched as you drank, noticing the drop that escaped your lips and dripped down your chin.

“Oops,” you said before gingerly wiping it away innocently. If you could read minds, you would know that innocence was the last thing on Johnny’s mind.

“Stop gawkin’ at her, mate,” Ghost scolded, punching Soap on the shoulder.

“I wasn’t gawkin’.” He rolled his eyes and took his canteen back.

“Don’t start, boys,” you said before leaving them behind.

“What say we celebrate tonight,” Soap suggested, and you immediately shook your head.

“No,” Ghost said with finality.

“What? Why?” Soap asked.

“We all know that your way of celebrating ends in you drinking too much and embarrassing yourself, then one of us has to take care of you the next morning,” you reminded him.

“If I promise not to drink…too much,” he added, “Can we please just have a little fun?”

You looked at Ghost, and he gave you one nod. “Fine,” you sighed.

“If you pass out, I’m leavin’ you where you lie. I’m tired of carryin’ you,” Ghost said.

“I really need to get out of this gear. It’s starting to get heavy,” you said, already working on the buckles of your tac vest.

“What a tease,” Soap mumbled.

“Whatever. I’ll see you guys later.” You waved and walked off, feeling their eyes on you with every step.

“Who’s gawkin’ now?” Soap asked Ghost with a chuckle.

You all met up in Soap’s room. You lounged on his bed, resting against the headboard while he sat down by your feet. Ghost sat on a chair that he moved closer to the bed.

Soap made you laugh non-stop, and you even heard Ghost chuckle once or twice. You looked over at him, and he seemed a little different. Maybe it was because he had removed the other mask he wore and changed into his balaclava. It was softer, and you could see more of his features.

“Are you listening to me?” Soap asked, grabbing your leg. “Or are you just looking at our dreamy Lieutenant?”

“Shut up,” both you and Ghost said.

“Hey, I got an idea. Simon…take off the mask,” Soap said, and you shook your head.

“Negative,” he said. You figured.

“Come on, mate. The lass wants to see ya.” Soap patted your bottom, and you swatted his hand away.

“Don’t pin this on me. I am fine with just seeing his eyes,” you said, looking back at Ghost.

“Boringggg,” Soap complained.

“Hey, eyes can tell you a lot about a person.”

“She’s right,” Simon agreed, and you smiled smugly at Soap.

“Besides, they might just be my favorite part of the body,” you added.

“Bullshit. Eyes? Really?” Soap scoffed.

“Yes! I can only imagine your favorite body part,” you snapped.

“Ass. Lt. likes boobs,” Soap tattled.

“What?” you giggled.

“Yeah. That time we went to that titty bar….”

Your eyes widened as you looked at Ghost amusedly. He shook his head.

“That’s not…” he started.

“Most of them were afraid of him because of that thing.” Soap pointed at Ghost’s mask.

“Afraid?” You looked at him.

“You ain’t afraid of me, are you?” he asked playfully.

“Never, sir.” You continued looking at him, tilting your head. “How do you kiss while wearing the balaclava?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I just…pull it up,” he told you, “…Not that I’ve been kissing much lately. Just…” His words trailed off.

“Oooo…someone wants to kiss Simon,” Soap teased.

You only shrugged, and Ghost looked at you. “I’m sure he has some kissable lips under there.”

“Show her, Simon. Go on,” Soap urged.

“Leave it—” you started, then froze when you realized Ghost was reaching up. “You don’t have to, Simon….”

But he didn’t stop, and the balaclava began to reveal his neck… chin…and lips.

“Close your mouth before a fly gets in there, doll,” Soap teased.

“What?” You were still staring at Ghost.

“I think you broke her, Simon,” Soap snickered.

“Nah, she can take a lot more than that,” he said.

“Fuck,” you said quietly. “I mean…um…” You needed to look away, but you couldn’t.

You could finally pull your eyes away from Simon, only to turn to Johnny, meeting his eye. His gorgeous eyes.

“You both…are troublemakers.” It was all you could think of saying.

“What? I didn’t do anything…this time,” Johnny said. “Blame Simon every once in a while.”

You looked at one of them and then at the other. “Would you both call yourselves good kissers?” you asked.

“I sure hope I am,” Soap said.

Ghost only shrugged, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Let her tell you if you are,” Soap suggested. “Kiss her, Lt.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, MacTavish,” you scoffed.

“She has to come over here for me to do that,” Ghost said, taking you by surprise.

“Oh, um…you serious?” you asked.

“Come over here, and I’ll show you if I am or not.” There was a sort of amused tone in his voice.

You stood and cleared your throat before making your way to the chair he was sitting in.

“Holy shit,” Soap said excitedly.

You stood between Ghost’s legs and looked down at him. This would probably be the only time looking down at him would be possible. You leaned in, hesitated as your noses touched, and kissed him. Immediately, it felt like the air was knocked out of your lungs. It was a gentle and cautious kiss.

He knew what he was doing.

When you pulled away, your eyes stayed on him, and he licked his lips.

“Well, is he a good kisser?” Soap asked, pulling you from your daze.

“Y-Yeah,” you stammered.

“What about me?” he asked.

“How would I know?” you teased.

Ghost was still looking at you, your kiss lingering on his lips.

“You could kiss me too, you know,” Soap said.

“Are you two always like this?” you wondered.

“Don’t change the subject. I want a kiss, too,” Soap whined.

“You’re such a brat,” you joked.

“He is,” Ghost added. “Go on. Give him his kiss,” he said. You looked at him, and he nodded before adding, “That’s an order, love.”

Your knees almost gave out at that, but you stood steadily and then walked over to Soap, who had sat up excitedly. He looked at you with puppy dog eyes, although you knew he was nowhere near innocent.

“Get over here, lass.” He yanked you closer, and you giggled before his lips touched yours. “Damn,” he whispered against your lips before deepening the kiss.

“Easy now, Johnny. Don’t suck her face off,” Ghost joked.

Soap pulled away. “If I do, we’ll just get her a cool-lookin’ mask like yours.”

“I…can’t believe I just did that,” you said, bringing a hand to your mouth.

“What?” Ghost asked.

“Kissed both of you…does that make things weird?” you pondered.

“Why would it?” Soap asked. “Hell, I say it’s about fuckin’ time.”

“Really?” You sat on the bed again, both men still looking at you.

“We’re all adults here, and I can admit that I’ve imagined doing more than just kissin’ you,” Soap confessed.

You looked at Ghost, who scratched at his chin. You never expect many words from him. “I know it’s wrong,” Simon started, “But doin’ what’s right ain’t always the solution.”

“Wait…why is it wrong?” Soap asked.

“He’s our superior, Johnny,” you told him before looking at Ghost again. “But all choices have consequences.”

He looked at you, eyes full of awe and something else. “Someone’s been listenin’.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I guess the question is, are we all willin’ to face those consequences if they happen to arise.”

“You know I am,” Soap answered without hesitation.

You shrugged. “Yeah, I mean….”

“You gotta be sure, love,” Ghost prompted.

“It’s truly not the consequences from higher-ups I’m worried about,” you told them. “I’m more concerned about how you two will see me when and if this does happen. I like our friendship and how close we all are. I don’t want it to get all fucked up just because we’re horny.”

“You don’t think it’ll bring us…closer?” Soap asked, and both you and Ghost threw him a look. “What?”

“Okay, well, I’m just gonna flat out ask you both: have you always wanted to fuck me?” You waited for an answer.

“Johnny talked about wantin’ to get in your pants about a week after getting to know you,” Ghost said.

“Simon! That was supposed to stay between us,” he scolded. You giggled, then turned to Ghost.

“And you?”

“Lass, you should see how he looks at you when you’re not looking,” Soap blurted. “The man wants to eat you alive…in a good way.”

“I could’ve told her that myself,” Ghost growled.

“You started it,” Soap retorted.

“Okay, okay, boys. Down.” Surprisingly, they both stopped and looked at you. “Have either ever done something like this before?”

“Sex?” Soap asked, and you rolled your eyes.

“You know what I mean. You boys don’t mind…sharing?”

“I don’t if you don’t mind being shared,” Ghost said quietly.

“Simon.” You looked at him, shocked.

“The man is quiet, but I swear he’s filthier than me,” Soap said. “Now, I’m gonna ask you, lass, do you want both of us?”

“Honestly? I’ve dreamt about it,” you confessed.

“Ha! You hear that, Lt.? She’s been havin’ dreams about us,” Soap said proudly.

Both men watched as you poured yourself a shot and downed it quickly.

“So…we doing this?” you asked.

“Up to you,” Ghost said. “One request, though.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“I want you to take your clothes off. Nice and slow,” he said, pulling the balaclava back down over his lips. You missed them already.

“Is that an order, sir?” you asked innocently.

“It is.”

Soap could hardly contain his excitement while Ghost, well, it was hard to tell. You wish you could because it would be such a turn-on to know that he was just as turned on by you.

You were sure to look him in the eye as you began undressing. Soap stood and walked over to where Ghost was sitting.

“What a fuckin’ treat,” Soap murmured but was quickly hushed by Ghost.

“Shut the fuck up, Johnny. Just use your eyes.” Ghost leaned forward again, and you swear his eyes could burn a hole in you. It made you feel sexy.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Soap whispered as you let your jeans fall to your ankles.

Ghost stood suddenly, and you looked up at him as he walked over to you. You loved the way he towered over you.

“Lie down for us, love,” he said, and you slowly backed up towards the bed as he followed.

When you were finally lying down, both men climbed onto the bed—Ghost on the left, Soap on the right.

“Wait…” you gasped, and both men froze in place. “I don’t have to call you Ghost and Soap, do I?”

“Call me Simon, love. Or sir, if you prefer.”

“And I’m just John or Johnny. Scream it if you need to, lass.”

“Okay,” you breathed. Then John kissed you as Simon surveyed your body with his big hands. You could feel him pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders. You were going to sit up so he could unclasp it, but at the speed of light, he had yanked it off you like it was made of paper. You gasped into John’s mouth but didn’t stop kissing him.

Simon’s hands continued moving down your body, stopping at your panties. This time, he waited for you to lift your hips so he could pull them off slowly.

John finally pulled himself away from your lips and noticed that you were completely naked, thanks to Simon.

“Good lord in heaven. You can’t be real,” he said, his Scottish brogue like music to your ears.

Simon was silent, staring down at you, and you realized he had pushed his balaclava up over his nose again. He wanted to kiss you again. He leaned in close, his nose touching yours as you looked into each other’s eyes.

When he finally kissed you, you moaned into it, and he did too. The sound of his moan sent pleasant chills through your body. His tongue dipped into your mouth just as John’s tongue lathed at your nipple. You arched off the bed and whimpered against Simon’s lips. These men were already sending you into a feeling of overstimulation, and you loved every moment.

One of your hands found the back of Simon’s neck, and the other found John’s mohawk. You held both men in place—one against your lips and one against your breasts.

John pulled away eventually, pulling your face away from Simon’s kiss so he could claim your lips. The men traded places, and now Simon’s lips were wrapped around your nipple.

Somehow, both men had the same idea—moving their hands between your legs, fighting for a place to put their fingers. You couldn’t tell whose fingers were whose; you just knew that someone was rubbing your clit and someone’s fingers were prodding at your entrance.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, and someone’s fingers were stretching you on cue. When John finally pulled away from your lips, you could look down and find both men had their fingers inside you. You cried out and looked at both men as they fucked you with their fingers.

“You want more than our fingers, don’t you?” John asked, and you nodded. “Let us taste you first, hm?”

“Yeah,” you whined. You thought that meant John would be going first, but Simon kissed his way down your body and found his way between your legs. As Simon slowly dragged his tongue against your clit, John's fingers were still inside you.

“Fuck…you guys…” you moaned.

“I think Lt. wants you to cum,” Soap said before sucking on your nipple. “Think you can do that for him?”

“Yeah,” you cried. You couldn’t believe this was happening. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“D-Don’t stop! Ah, fuck. Just like that!”

John captured your lips again, and you had no choice but to cry out into the kiss. For a man who kept his lips covered most of the time, he sure had no trouble using them.

“Hey, Lt, she’s gettin’ there. I can feel it.”

They both worked you into one of the best orgasms you had ever had. Your body trembled and jerked as Simon drank you down, and John kept his fingers slipping in and out of you.

“All right, Simon, my turn for a taste,” John said, and Simon finally pulled away.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Tell me, love, anyone ever fuck your ass?”

“No,” you whined.

“Well, I’m about to,” he said, lying down and helping you straddle him with your back facing him. He pushed you forward so that you were bent over on him. You could hear him wetting his fingers and then spitting on them before slipping them up and down your ass, spreading the cheeks for better access.

He slid one finger into you slowly, easing his way in. The tight muscle pulsed around his finger, wanting to push against it.

“Relax,” he said, placing a comforting hand on your lower back. “There you are.”

He kept a careful and slow pace for now, only adding a finger when he was sure you were ready for another. You nearly begged him to put them back when he pulled them out.

“You stay relaxed for me, all right, love?” he cooed in a voice you had never heard him use before. Then you felt something prodding at your ass, and it was certainly more than a finger this time. He had slicked himself up with spit and his precum.

“Mmm, Simon…” you whimpered, looking back at him. The tip of his cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle, and you gasped.

“The hardest part is done, love,” he reassured you, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “You’re so good. Doin’ so well.”

John cupped your face and used his thumbs to caress your cheeks. “So good for us,” he seconded.

Before you knew it, Simon was buried to the hilt in your ass. The burn from the stretch gave way to a pleasant sting as he moved slowly in and out of you. Then he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down to lie against him, your back to his chest.

His breath caressed the shell of your ear as he tried his best not to fuck up into your ass the way he truly wanted to.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Such a tight little thing….”

John bent between yours and Simon’s legs to taste you as Simon fucked your ass.

“Ohhhh,” you moaned.

“We’ve got you,” Simon said, sliding a hand up your neck. “You can take it, can’t you? We know you can. Our good girl.” He squeezed your neck lightly, and your eyes rolled back.

“Harder,” you said.

“What was that, love?”

“Harder. Fuck my ass harder, sir.”

“That’s better.” He held you tighter and began pumping up into you faster. John had a hard time keeping his mouth on you, but he found a way. You could hear him slurping against you even as Simon’s hips slapped against your ass.

When you came, both men praised you.

“That’s it. Let go.”

“That a girl. Look at you.”

“So beautiful when you cum.”

You had relaxed against Simon. They gave you a slight reprieve before you heard him say, “We’re not done quite yet.” He grabbed your legs from behind your knee and spread you wide open. When you were able to focus, you saw that John was there. You smiled.

“Oh, Simon, our girl’s enjoyin’ this,” John said proudly before looking down at your pussy. “Let’s see if it feels as good as it tastes, hm?” You nodded weakly, and he chuckled.

“Our girl’s a greedy little thing, ain’t she, John?” Simon said beneath you.

“She is.” John was touching himself now, getting himself ready for you.

“But she’s so good for us, so we’ll give her whatever she wants.” Simon was pumping into you slowly, trying to keep you as still as possible as John lined himself up. He began pushing into you, and you swear you went cross-eyed.

“Stay with us,” John teased, tapping your cheek lightly.

You were beyond full, and still, you wanted more. You needed them to move. You squirmed impatiently between them.

“Let’s not keep the lady waiting,” Simon said in a strained voice.

Both men moved in unison, keeping a pace that kept you on the edge. Their grunts and moans mixed with yours, and you thought you had never heard such a wonderful sound.

You would have never guessed that Simon was so vocal, but he was louder than you and John.

“You feel so good, Simon,” you moaned, and he grabbed your face gently.

“Tell John he feels good, too.”

“You feel so fucking good, John.” With that, he began fucking you harder.

“That’s our girl.” Simon matched John’s pace, and soon you were a mumbling mess sandwiched between these two glorious men.

Never in a million years did you think something like this would happen to you. You would almost say it wasn’t real if it wasn’t for the fact that you were being stretched and pulled in ways you had never been before.

Both men were getting close, their thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. John was the first to let go, nearly collapsing on top of you as his thrusts stuttered to a stop as he filled you. He pulled out and watched his cum drip out of you, down your ass, and onto Simon’s dick which was still pumping into you.

Simon was not far behind, but before he came, he held you close and turned you onto your side. He grabbed one of your legs and lifted it as he fucked you while spooning you. After a few more thrusts in that position, he cried out in your ear as he filled you. He pressed himself against you as if he couldn’t get close enough.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathed. “You all right, love?”

“Mm hm,” you answered weakly.

John lay beside you, and you were again sandwiched between the two men.

“I don’t think I can move,” you said.

“There’s no need,” Simon said. “We’ll take care of you.”

“Rest. You deserve it,” John said, cupping your face. “We’ll be here when you wake up, won’t we, Lt.?”

“O’ course we will.” He kept his arm wrapped around you.

You knew they were both men of their word, so you let your eyes close, knowing that you were enveloped by their warmth and would wake up with the same feeling.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader

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writeforfandoms · 11 months

Text

Listening In 1

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Soap has to work undercover at a restaurant to get info on a target, and meets a waitress he enjoys flustering. He immediately decides he wants to share her with Ghost. Four part mini series, porn then feelings.

Welcome to probably my most unhinged work to date. Don't look too hard at the plot, it's shy. Basically what it says on the label. Re: the minor voyeurism tag/warning... There's a reason this one is called "Listening In".

This probably has Vegas vibes because I started writing it while I was in Vegas. Oops.

Warnings: Swearing, brief skeezy guy (not Soap), probable overuse of nicknames, eventual threesome in a later chapter, dry humping, vaginal sex, protected vaginal sex, dirty talk, praise kink.

Word count: 5.5k

In his defense, this assignment was supposed to be easy. So Soap had already decided to have some fun. He knew he looked damn good in the bartender outfit - white shirt, black slacks, vest a dark purple with the thinnest shiny silver pinstripes. It was a showy outfit for a showy place. And unfortunately Price had vetoed his idea of just sitting at the bar drinking until their mark came in and they could get the information they needed.

So he got to be a bartender for a few nights instead.

Thus, he was going to have fun.

He’d already flirted with a few of the waitresses, shamelessly letting his eyes linger. The waitresses all wore white blouses and skirts, but their skirts were the purple and silver fabric. It certainly worked to draw the eye to certain assets.

He set a drink in front of a customer with a wink and a smile, enjoying the titter it got him. But then he stepped back to keep working, subtly checking around for their mark. So far, still no sign of him.

A new waitress stopped next to the bar, and Soap couldn’t look away for a few long moments. There was something different about her, and he was determined to find out what it was.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he greeted with a wink, watching her. “Waiting on me for something?”

She lowered her gaze, shifting her weight. Shy, he realized with delight. “The beer for table 23,” she answered, fingers toying with the edge of her tray.

“Got it.” A quick check and Soap poured the beer. He presented it with a flourish, grinning. “You just let me know what else you need tonight, gorgeous.”

To his absolute delight, she ducked her head, clearly flustered. She muttered something that might have been thanks and carried the beer over to the table. She was adorable.

More than that, Soap wanted to see how else he could get her flustered.

“Focus, sergeant.” Ghost did not sound amused in his earpiece.

Soap huffed but didn’t reply, instead busying himself by cleaning a glass. Everyone at the bar was taken care of, things were fine. Still no sign of the target. Of course not.

Price had mentioned it might take a few days.

That was alright. Soap could be patient. …Well. He could entertain himself while he waited, anyway.

And if he decided he wanted to entertain himself by flustering a pretty waitress, well… Ghost could deal with it.

It was almost half an hour before he got to continue playing, though he did absently track her progress around the room. Finally, she came up to the bar, though her expression was too blank. He must have missed something.

“What can I get for you, gorgeous?” He leaned one hip against the bar, smiling at her.

“Lemon drop.” The answer was a bit more curt than he expected, but he nodded amiably anyway.

“Can do.” He folded the towel in his hands and noticed her gaze drop to the towel. Or rather to his hands. Hiding his smirk, he turned to get down the ingredients, making a bit of a show of it. Casually flipping a bottle. Spreading his shoulders further than he really needed to. In short, showing off.

And he was rewarded with wide eyes and parted lips. She’d been watching, exactly as he hoped.

“Here you are, gorgeous.” He let his smile edge into openly flirty territory, enjoying her fluster.

“Thanks.” Her smile was shy, and really he should not find that as adorable as he did. But she took the drink and walked away again.

“Quit flirting and get back to work,” Ghost grunted in his ear.

Soap turned towards the back of the bar, tidying up so he could mutter to his earpiece without rousing suspicion. “I’m multitasking, LT.”

Ghost just huffed, but Soap knew that huff. That one meant something like “cheeky brat”. It was one of his favorites.

The night was admittedly slow, but Soap got his entertainment where he could. Partially in getting better tips. (It was not against dress code to roll his sleeves up to his elbows, and he certainly caught more than one person eyeing him speculatively. That was the kind of attention he enjoyed.)

It was near the end of the night before he finally got a chance to do more than just flirt with the pretty waitress, though.

She stopped at the side of the bar with a soft sigh, rolling her shoulders. She looked a little tired. Not that he blamed her - she’d been running around for hours.

“Almost done for the night, gorgeous?” The bar was quiet, so he let himself stop next to her.

“Almost.” She blew out a breath, her cheeks puffing out briefly. Soap tried hard not to let his mind wander. “You?”

“Got another hour.” He didn’t even have to look at the clock. He’d been keeping track. Especially as it got later and the likelihood of the mark coming in grew smaller.

“Not bad.” Her smile was a tad sympathetic. She hesitated then, biting the corner of her lip. “Dunno if anyone warned you, but careful of the back door. It swings in hard.”

Soap blinked at her, oddly touched by the little show of care. “Thank you, gorgeous. I didn’t know.”

She smiled, a little less shy but no less gorgeous, and nodded. “Of course.”

He returned the smile and then took a calculated risk. He put his hand on her arm, just above her elbow. A safe enough location, harmless. There wasn’t even any skin contact, since her shirt sleeves were primly buttoned at her wrists. “Have a safe trip home, aye?”

Her eyes widened and she blinked at him, adorably doe-eyed. Her smile softened and she nodded. “You, too.” She lingered a moment more before she slipped away.

And Soap felt his heart lurch. Just a bit. Steamin’ Jesus he was in trouble.

He finished out the shift without a single sign of their mark. Not that he was entirely surprised.

It did mean he’d be back the next night, though.

It was late when he got back to the apartment he was using for the moment, and he was not surprised to find the lights on. Simon, undoubtedly.

“When did you get bored?” he called into the apartment, double-checking the locks before walking further in.

“When you stopped flirting.” Simon was waiting in the bedroom for him, dressed down for the night.

Johnny toed his boots off before he started on the vest. “Anyone catch your eye?”

Simon rolled his eyes. “If you found someone you want to fuck, you know you can.” This was not a new conversation - their relationship was pretty open. They both had eyes and they both enjoyed other partners. Occasionally, they even enjoyed sharing.

“Might do.” Johnny hung up the vest and started on the shirt. “Did you see that pretty little waitress?”

“The one you were playing with?”

“That’s the one.” Johnny grinned to himself.

Simon snorted. “Have fun.” It was tacit permission. Even though it wasn’t needed, it still warmed Johnny to hear.

Johnny just grinned. He fully intended to.

–

The handsome bartender was in again. Johnny, if you remembered his nametag right.

You looked away from the bar, checking on your tables again. You were not going to hope he kept up the flirting tonight. He was just the new guy, flirting was probably how he got comfortable.

You didn’t have a chance to get up to the bar for a couple hours. And when you did, you had a list. This table, you could tell, was there for the long haul.

“Hello again gorgeous,” Johnny purred, gaze sweeping over you. “Doin’ alright?”

“So far,” you quipped, trying to hide how warm that tone got you. “I think this table is going to keep us busy.” You handed over the list to him, fingers tapping against your tray.

He scanned the list quickly and nodded once. “Be right up.” He winked before he turned to get to work. His shoulders pulled the material of his shirt tight, and you swallowed hard, telling yourself to look away even as you kept watching him. He moved quickly and efficiently, leaving drinks on your tray as he finished each one. The last one he set down with a flourish and a grin.

“Thanks.” You picked up the tray carefully and made your way back to your table, serving the drinks easily. You also made a mental note to keep an eye on them - the table was all men, late 20s and early 30s. Exactly the type you expected trouble from after a few drinks.

The night was busy at least, which helped time to go by. It didn’t help your feet. But you were used to that.

You barely had time for Johnny to wink at you between your tables, which admittedly helped your morale. He was handsome in the extreme, and flirting with you. That didn’t happen often. You were allowed to enjoy it.

The half hour of your break was quiet… for you. Two of the other girls were busy gossiping on a smoke break, giving you perfect intel.

“How long do you think new guy will last?” Liza asked, voice rough from years of smoking.

“The bartender?” Erica asked, flicking ash off her cigarette. Neither of them paid you any attention. “I hope he lasts. He’s hot.”

Liza chuckled, blowing out a plume of smoke. “He’s too handsome,” she said, shaking her head. “He’ll be trouble, mark my words. I give him a month.”

“Oh come on, he’s sweet enough. He’ll last longer than that.”

“We’ll see about that.” Liza stubbed out her cigarette. “Don’t get too attached.” She adjusted her bra and tugged down her top, ensuring the best cleavage for tips, and sauntered back inside.

You leaned your head back against the wall, thinking over what she’d said. Don’t get too attached. Well, you’d certainly seen people come and go before.

But there was something different about Johnny.

Going back into the dining room was a little bit like marching once more into battle. Your feet hurt and you still had a few hours to go until you were done - you had a closing shift tonight. The table of rowdy men was still there, still rowdy, still drinking. But not rowdy enough to be asked to leave.

But you did your job, and you smiled politely at everyone, and you made sure your work was the best it could be. Because tips were life saving, and management liked you. You wanted management to like you.

At least until something better came along.

The group of men finally settled up near closing time. Things had wound down again, and you were one of the few left. Three of the guys got up after they paid, heading outside. Nobody fell in the restaurant, making them officially no longer your problem.

But the fourth waved you over, smirking. Your heart sank. He was going to be a dick, you could tell. But you still went, because he was a customer, and you didn’t want him to start mouthing off to your manager.

“Here, sweetheart.” He held up a folded bill. “For all your attention.”

“I appreciate it,” you said carefully.

Instead of handing you the cash like a sane person, he stood, crowding your space too quickly, and tucked it under the neckline of your shirt. You burned with embarrassed rage, taking a step back. But he just grinned and winked at you before walking away.

“You alright?” The soft question behind you made you jump and turn, and Johnny held his hands up. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m fine.” You rolled your shoulders, huffing. “It happens. Who else is left?”

“He was the last customer,” Johnny told you, giving you a quick once-over. But it registered to you as concerned, rather than ill-intentioned. “Just us and the boss.”

“Got it.” You blew out a slow breath. “Right, let’s finish up so we can go.”

“Rog.” Johnny hesitated for a moment longer before he turned away and headed back to the bar. You finished your cleanup as quickly as you could, eager to get home.

“How far away are you?” Johnny asked as the two of you grabbed your coats. You wrapped a scarf around your neck as well - nights were still cold here, even though spring was technically on the way.

“Oh, not too far,” you answered, a little evasive. “I’ll be fine. Have a good night, Johnny.”

The cold air was expected but you still shivered once you were outside, setting a brisk pace back to your apartment. The streets were not quiet, still full of revelers and gamblers out late, but you ignored and dodged them with the ease of long practice.

As you locked your front door, you found yourself hoping Johnny lasted a little while. He was sweet.

–

“Surprised you didn’t punch that arsehole.”

“Almost did, LT. Price would’ve had my head.”

“Nah. He’d just be disappointed.”

“That’s worse.”

–

Two nights later you were back at work, and once again Johnny was behind the bar. He still smiled and flirted with you, but tonight he seemed a bit distracted.

“You alright?” you asked him in a quiet reversal from the other night.

“Hmm? Oh, aye, gorgeous.” He smiled, touching your hand briefly. Even that little touch sent warmth up your skin.

“Good.” You smiled a little at him. “Let me know if you need anything.” You took the beer you’d come over for and walked away.

He was distracted the rest of the night, working as efficiently as ever, but with markedly less flirting and conversation. You didn’t take it personally. There was clearly something else going on there.

He left around midnight, which you only knew because one of the others complained about having to stay late to cover. Honestly, you kind of missed him when you helped close. He was good company, holding onto his cheer even into the early hours.

Your walk home was quiet and cold.

He wasn’t at the bar the next night, and you kind of missed him. Especially when another asshole got handsy and left a tip stuck in the waistband of your skirt. That warranted a very hot shower.

But Johnny was back the next night, and it was a quieter night. You made your way over with a smile.

"How late do they have you here?" You leaned against the bar, giving him a quick once-over. He had his sleeves rolled up again, showing off his frankly impressive forearms. The vest somehow only emphasized his size and how fit he was.

"Closing," he answered with a smile. "And you, gorgeous?"

"Same." You couldn't help the little smile at that.

"Guess it'll be you and me, then." He winked.

You laughed quietly. "You sweet-talk all the waitresses like this?"

"Nah, this is all you." His smile widened when your lips parted, eyes going wide in surprise. "Suits you, gorgeous." He winked at you and left you floundering as someone called him for a drink.

Feeling like all the blood in your body must be in your face, you bustled off to do actual work.

Your shift flew past, partially because of easy customers and partially because of Johnny's unrelenting flirting. By the time the last customer left, you were beginning to think the blood would never leave your cheeks.

"Gorgeous," Johnny started, looking at you as the two of you finished closing chores, "can I walk you home?"

You paused, considering. He looked so hopeful, like an eager puppy. You knew what he wanted. He hadn't been subtle, not with his flirting. You normally would say no to any coworker. But… there was something about him, something different, something genuine. Sure, there was a good chance that you'd get hurt when he left, or make work awkward.

"Yes."

He flat out beamed. "Great! You ready, gorgeous?"

You laughed a little. "Need my stuff first," you chided him, grinning.

He huffed but his cheer didn't flag at all. "Grab your things," he said, waving a hand at you. "I've got this."

Giggling a little, you let him finish up and grabbed your coat and things. Were you really going to do this? Have your coworker over for a hookup? You never did this. Never.

But this could be fun, with Johnny.

"All set," Johnny said as he joined you. "Lead on."

You hesitated for a moment, looking at him. You wanted to hold his hand, but this wasn't that kind of night. Your heart was really too soft for this.

That was a problem for later you.

The walk was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Johnny walked close to you, your arms brushing as you walked.

"This one's mine," you said, nodding to the building ahead. "Do you want to come up?" You couldn't quite make the question confident, still a little too shy for that.

"Only if you're comfortable with that." His hand landed at your waist, still in perfectly respectable territory. You had the vague feeling that you'd never find someone this respectful again.

"Yeah." You smiled at him, pulling out your keys. "It's a bit messy, but I live alone."

"Good." Johnny followed you inside and to the elevator, his hand sliding down just slightly to land on your hip. The elevator doors closed, and he shuffled in close to you. "Been hoping you'd say yes, been thinking about it since that first night."

"No way." You eyed him suspiciously.

"I swear," he promised, gaze open and honest. "Since you got all flustered."

Which, of course, only got you more flustered. The elevator door opened, and Johnny pulled you out and down the hall. You were laughing when you finally opened your door, letting him inside.

"Can I kiss you?" Johnny closed the door and locked it without letting go of you.

"Yes." The word was barely out of your mouth before Johnny was on you, his free hand cupping your cheek, lips insistent on yours. Somehow, he got your scarf and jacket off, leaving them on the floor.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, pupils already blown wide. "Just as sweet as I thought."

Which sent heat flaring through you. "Stop flustering me," you grumbled half-heartedly, tugging his coat off.

"But you're adorable when you're flustered." He grinned, leaning in again to nip playfully at your lips, swallowing down your gasp.

"Shoes," you managed to gasp when his kisses traveled down to your throat.

He huffed, warm breath fanning over damp skin, but pulled back enough to comply. He tossed his shoes behind him carelessly, making you laugh again.

"Let me help you." With a smoldering look, he knelt in front of you. Your mouth went very dry at the sight of him on his knees, lifting one foot to pull off your shoe for you. It shouldn't have been so sexy. It really shouldn't.

But it was.

You balanced one hand against his shoulder as he divested you of your other shoe, his hands sliding up and down your calves.

"Do you have, uh." You trailed off, once again flustered.

"Condoms?" He grinned up at you, apparently amused. "Sure do, gorgeous." His hands slid up to your knees and stopped there, waiting.

You bit your lip, looking down at him. "Shall we, um…?" You motioned vaguely behind you to your bedroom.

"Fuckin' hell you're cute." He surged up to his feet, his hands landing on your hips instead, and kissed you again. You shivered, winding one hand into his hair carefully. The buzzed side was soft and fuzzy, and you detoured to rub his head there. "Oh aye, do that. And pull. I like that." A quick wink and he was back to kissing the breath out of you.

Somehow he guided you backwards into your bedroom all while kissing you. If you’d had the mental capacity, you would have been impressed. As it was, you were too busy hanging on for dear life to him, one hand holding tight to his shoulder and the other still playing with his hair.

He turned the two of you suddenly and you yipped in surprise as you both fell, although it was apparently intentional. Johnny ended up sitting on your bed and you ended up sprawled on top of him, face dangerously hot, unsure if you should move away or get comfortable.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, hands settling on your hips to gently guide you to a more comfortable position. “Could keep kissing you all night.”

You smiled a little, somehow still bashful even with your lips still tingling from his kisses. “I’d be okay with that,” you agreed, looping both arms around his shoulders and combing your fingers through the downy hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Would you be okay with more?” His fingers stroked along your hips and sides, as if he just couldn’t hold still.

“Yes.” That was an easy one. He was making it easy. He was making you want more, want things you didn’t normally think about.

His grin was bright and flirty and infectious, right up until he dipped his head to nip the corner of your jaw. Your gasp spurred him on to start unbuttoning your shirt, eager to get at more skin. He worked fast, pushing your shirt back and briefly getting both of you tangled up before tossing the shirt to the floor somewhere.

He looked good like this, far too good, with kiss-swollen lips and pupils blown huge with desire, hair mussed from your fingers.

“You’re a bloody vision, gorgeous.” He licked his lips, gaze darting over all your newly-exposed skin, as if deciding where to start. Then he dove in, kissing from your neck down past your collarbone, hands big and warm smoothing across your belly and up your sides.

You managed to fumble between the two of you, briefly cursing the tiny buttons on the vest before you got it open and started on his shirt. You wanted to see more of him, wanted to feel skin under your hands. The warmth in you was quickly pooling between your legs, insistent and throbbing.

“Can I…?” You started, hesitant even with your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.

“Anything,” he agreed instantly, hands tugging you closer eagerly. “Anything you want, gorgeous.”

You might have whimpered. Just a little. You absolutely did scratch your nails through his hair again, enjoying his soft moan against the skin of your collarbone, and then worked his shirt open. Finally, your hands splayed against warm skin dusted with hair, and you pulled back a little to look.

He was, frankly, gorgeous. He was extremely fit, scars dotting his skin, shoulders broad and firm under your touch. You licked your lips as you watched him practically tear his shirt and vest off, tossing them away, watching the play of muscle under his skin. Briefly, you wondered what the hell someone like him was doing with someone like you.

He didn’t give you time to linger on that question, kissing you again with renewed fervor as his hands went to your bra. In moments, it was off and sailing through the air.

“What can I do, gorgeous?” he purred. His hands were practically everywhere - smoothing up your spine, holding your hip, rubbing against your side, cupping your breast. “What d’you want me to do?”

You gasped, shivering, overwhelmed. “I don’t…” You struggled for a moment to find words, quickly tipping from embarrassed to frustrated.

“How ‘bout you tell me if I go too fast?” he murmured, thumb rubbing lazy circles around your nipple. That worked wonderfully well as a distraction, and you relaxed again. “Tell me if you don’t like something.”

“Okay.” You held onto his shoulders as he dipped his head. One hand on your back encouraged you to arch up for him, and his lips found your neglected nipple. Your gasps and quiet whines only spurred him on, your nails digging into his shoulders making him moan. When you started squirming, aching for more, he grabbed both your hips and pulled you into a slow rolling grind against the bulge in his pants. Your head tipped back with a sharp noise of pleasure, thighs trembling.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Johnny groaned, grip tightening on your hips. “You make the prettiest noises, gorgeous.” He bucked his hips up into you and you squeaked, thighs tightening around him. “That’s the way, gorgeous, atta girl. Just like that.”

You held tighter to his shoulders, unable to do anything but comply. It felt too good - he felt too good under you, guiding you along and watching you with lust-blown eyes. Too good and too much. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to try and regain some semblance of control.

“Wanna hear you, gorgeous,” he murmured, leaning in to nip your chin. “Just us here, yeah? Lemme hear you.” He nipped the shell of your ear next, breath hot and damp against your skin.

You were helpless to hold back after that, your lips parting on a low moan. Johnny nearly purred, moving you both faster, his hands briefly detouring to pull your skirt up to your waist so he could look down between you.

“Getting close?” he murmured, one hand solid on your hip, his other wandering. “Gonna come for me, just like this? Come on, I wanna see you, see how gorgeous you are, aye?”

And that did it. Something about that accent and those words tipped you over the edge with a high whine, your hips jerking as you clenched around nothing.

Johnny groaned, his own hips jerking up into you once. “Knew you’d be so beautiful,” he murmured, nuzzling your cheek. “Bet you’ll look even prettier under me. Can I? Let me do all the work, lemme take care of you.” He kissed you again before you even had a chance to respond, a little wild.

You pulled back from him, just a little, one hand wound into his hair and tugging gently when he tried to follow you. “Yes, Johnny,” you agreed breathlessly, meeting his wide-eyed gaze. “You can.”

Johnny grinned and kissed you again. And then he did something unexpected.

He lifted his hips and twisted his body and somehow turned the two of you into a controlled roll until you were flat on your back on the bed with him kneeling above you.

“Want help with these?” His fingers teased the waistband of your panties and skirt.

Feeling a bit like you might combust on the spot, you nodded and lifted your hips for him. Much smoother than you would have thought possible, he had both garments down, off, and tossed elsewhere. You were torn between being impressed and turned on.

Johnny fished around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a little foil wrapper. “Hold this for me, gorgeous.” He winked as he set it on your tummy, fingers grazing over your skin in a very deliberate tease before he got off the bed. You watched, eyes wide and hungry, as he shimmied his slacks and boxers off in one go, leaving them in a crumpled mess on the floor.

“And you call me gorgeous,” you breathed, swallowing hard. Because he really was - even the scars added to his looks. As did the blush rapidly spreading across his cheeks.

“Well, lookit you, sweet-talkin’ me.” He grinned, apparently recovering. But you made note of that. Genuine admiration got a good reaction.

“Does it count as sweet talking if it’s the truth?”

His blush darkened, much to your delight. He huffed. “Nuh uh, sweet girl.” He knelt on the bed again, reaching for the condom and deliberately grazing his fingers over your thighs. “Not distracting me, gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help but watch as he rolled the condom on, because, well… He was right there. And shameless about it. And you were maybe a bit nervous - he was at least as big as some of your toys.

“Ready for me?” He rubbed his hands up and down your thighs, watching you closely.

“Just… go slow?” You sounded small and uncertain to yourself, but you didn’t shy away. Not this time. You wanted this, wanted him.

“Rog.” He smoothed his hands up the insides of your thighs, gently encouraging you to spread them more as he shifted into place. One hand landed on the bed next to your head, bracing him as he hovered over you. “Tell me if you need to pause, gorgeous. I mean it.” He waited until you nodded to start pushing into you, taking it slow.

But it didn’t hurt at all. Just felt… good. Damn good. You tipped your head back, squirming a little.

“Easy, gorgeous.” Johnny squeezed your hip gently, biting his lip. “Need me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare.” You lifted your head just enough to look up at him, feeling a little wild yourself.

He huffed out an almost laugh. “Yes, ma’am.” He kept moving, not fast but steady. It took only moments for you to hook one leg up over his hip, wanting more, wanting him deeper. He moaned, dropping his head briefly to press a kiss between your breasts. “Fuckin’ love it when you ask for what you want. With your words or like this.” His hand rubbed down your thigh, hitching it up a little higher. “Bloody gorgeous, sweet girl.”

You were going to tell him how good he felt, you really were. Except then he started moving again, and all thoughts flew out the window. Everything that wasn’t Johnny flew out of your head, really.

As did any semblance of volume control.

Fortunately, Johnny seemed to like you loud, going by the heartfelt moan he barely muffled against your skin.

“Fuckin’ perfect, gorgeous,” he cooed in your ear, hips snapping against yours with more force now. “So fuckin’ good for me. Makes me wanna do this again.”

You just gasped, clinging to him as much as you could, nails digging briefly into his shoulders. Which only spurred him on - he lifted your other leg up over his hip, tilting you into a slightly different angle. The first thrust had him brushing up against a spot that had you nearly seeing stars, and he swore.

“Felt that,” he rumbled, planting both hands on the bed to get more force into his thrusts. “Feel good, gorgeous? Gonna come for me again? Show me how sweet you are, aye?”

“I need…” You trailed off, looking up at him, legs tightening around his hips.

“I’ve gotcha, sweet girl.” He leaned down to kiss you, hard and open-mouthed, and one hand slipped between you to finger your clit.

You shouted into his mouth, arching and going tense as your orgasm crashed through you, leaving you a shaking mess. Johnny wasn’t much better off, holding your lip between his teeth until he stilled in you, quivering.

And then he relaxed, leaning most of his weight to one side so he didn’t crush you. You closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath, idly smoothing one hand up and down his forearm.

“Fuck,” he finally breathed after a minute or so of quiet. “Please tell me we can do that again, gorgeous.”

You laughed a little, tipping your head to look at him. “Let’s see how work goes,” you said. “If it’s not awkward, we’ll revisit the topic.”

He grinned at you, something soft in his eyes even as he cupped your cheek. “Dunno the meaning of the word,” he teased, making you laugh again. “Swear down.”

“I’m sure,” you agreed. The yawn caught you off-guard and left you blinking owlishly.

“Should let you sleep.” Johnny moved with a little grimace, rolling off the bed and landing on his feet like a cat.

You swallowed back the urge to ask him to stay. To beg him, if need be. This wasn’t that kind of movie, you reminded yourself sternly. “Bathroom is the door on the left.”

“Thanks, gorgeous.” The door closed quietly after him.

Rather reluctantly, you rose and gathered up your clothes, actually putting things away properly. An over-big t-shirt counted as your nightshirt, and fell to mid-thigh. Good enough to see him out.

Johnny, on the other hand, shamelessly pulled on his now-wrinkled clothes. He’d slicked his hair back with water, but he definitely still was rocking a “walk of shame” look.

“I’ll see you soon, gorgeous,” he promised. Before you could open the door, he leaned in, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

And then he was gone before you could properly recover, the door swinging shut after him.

–

“Did you forget something, Johnny boy?”

The dangerous edge to Simon’s voice made Johnny shiver, though he was still grinning like the cat that got the canary. “Forget, LT? Nah. Didn’t forget.”

“You wanted me to listen in.” Simon lost the dangerous edge, though his voice was a little too even. Covering up his surprise, probably.

“Had a feeling she’d make the most beautiful noises. Wasn’t wrong, was I?” Johnny couldn’t keep his smug grin to himself.

“No,” Simon agreed, thoughtful now. That tone sent goosebumps down Johnny’s back. “Not wrong at all.” Silence for a few more moments, then, “Hurry it up.”

“Rog.” Johnny sped up, eager to see what Simon wanted. This was absolutely going to end well.

#listening in #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader x johnny soap mactavish #18+#minors begone

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ebaylee422 · 9 months

Text

Landside

Billy X GF!Reader

Authors Note: We want a scared Dad Billy? Yeah we’re gonna get one.

AU Summary - This is if Billy didn’t ‘actually' die during Season 3. He’s been with the group for a year, even aiding them against Vecna Season 4. Everyone who fell victim to Vecna was trapped in the Upside Down, including but not limited to Barb, Billy (ofc), Bob, Chrissy, Eddie, Jason, etc You get the idea. They all still bear the weight of what happened to all of them. It’s like they were raised from the dead if you will. This fic takes place maybe five years later? So 1990-91 ish

Warnings/Tags: Smut, Unplanned pregnancy, family trauma, name-calling between friends. Fixing everything and any death post season 4, lots of Steddie and Ronance, Talk of body issues, pregnancy fears, fear of not being good enough, Physical violence in the form of threats or thrown objects.

Word Count: 7.8k

I come up from doing a few laps in the pool, stepping up the stairs. Billy walked towards me with a towel in hand.

“Looking good out there Ms. Y/L/N.” I smirk, taking the towel from his hands, dabbing at the water on my face and hairline.

“Thank you,”

“Perfect form, and that suit is marvelous.” he winks.

“Well your form is marvelous,” I say making him blush, “I mean, you are a great teacher, teaching lessons to the kids-”

“You know, I could uh. I could teach you if you like?”

“Oh?”

“Yes, well, I know all the styles.” he looked me up and down, opening a piece of gum. Setting his free hand to follow the strap of the bikini dangerously close to cupping my breast. “Free style, um Butterfly, and Breast stroke.” I watch him breach his soft lips slipping the gum into his mouth, accidentally dropping the towel in my hands.

“Oops.” I bend over, picking up the towel slowly. So he can see the arch of my back and the space between my bathing suit and breasts. “I didn’t know you offered adult lessons.”

“Well you know, I offer advanced lessons to a select clientele. Come to think of it, there's a good pool out at uh, Motel 6 on Cornwallis. Very quiet, you know, very private. Should we say tonight, 8 o’clock.”

“Wouldn’t this be the 4th time this week Mr. Hargrove? I don’t think there’s anything left to teach me.” I brush my hands on his chest toying with the whistle around his neck.

“Oh you see that’s where you're wrong I think there are plenty of things left to do. I just don’t think I’ve pushed you hard enough.” leaning into the tease, brushing up my arm leaving goosebumps even in the damp heat of summer.

“Well I need to-”

“It will be the workout of your life.” he cut me off,

“I will need your help deciding what to wear, you have such impeccable taste.” I ran my hand down my side over the hem of the swim bottoms, knowing it drove him crazy looking at the light trail of hair disappearing into my swim bottoms along my pelvis.

“A tease you are,” he pulls my waist to him, kissing me deeply for everyone at the pool to see how taken we are with each other. My fingertips dip into his waistband, distracting him while my tongue dips into his mouth, snatching the gum and pulling back quickly. "Oh a thief too, I see your game." I blow a bubble, smacking the gum and twisting out of his arms to hold his hands.

“Gotta hit the showers, California, perhaps a rain check? I’ll find you before I leave!” winking and popping the gum one last time, skipping to cool off from the hot sun in the women's locker room.

Grabbing a fresh towel and some soap from my locker I pull the curtain taut. Letting the water run over my suit, unsticking it with all the chlorine and sunscreen. Hanging it on the hook, tying my hair up and washing my body. Just when there’s suds' coating my eyes I hear someone pull the curtain open,

“This one’s taken!” I hide my body against the wall, trying to wash out the soap when the curtain closes again. Getting frustrated I vigorously put water in my eyes, hearing wet steps. A hand covers my mouth so I can’t scream, turning me around quickly to the haughty chuckle. Billy stands smiling wildly, “What do you think you're doing!” I smack at his chest, he shushes my protest, kissing down my throat creating a bee-line to my chest. Instinctively I hook my arms around his neck, looking down to see he’s also completely naked. “You're supposed to be working, go away.” I hum as he kisses the tops of my breasts.

“But your breasts are so amazing and all soapy. God, have they gotten bigger? My girls, all pretty and sensitive.” he whines on my neck, “and I know you didn’t just buy a suit I wanted, tease me with it. Not wanting me to fuck you, oh not my doll! What have you done with her?!” I laugh as he shakes me, hands on the middle of my spine.

“Okay well then it worked better than I thought, I guess actions speak louder-” he was hammering the spot on my neck that gives my stomach butterflies, “Billy-” I whine.

“Yes? Anything for you.” he looked up, with those gorgeous blue eyes pupils of black onyx swallowing the ocean with lust.

“B, I don’t feel too good...” I pout,

“Well then, let me make you feel so much better, huh? Let Billy take care of you. I'll make you feel better, and damn you smell so good, Indiana.” He doesn’t push my limits by forcing himself on me, just showering me with love in his way of physical contact.

"Billy-..."

"What hurts baby?"

"My back, and I'm nauseous." I hold onto him, playing with his St. Christopher’s necklace under the cool water.

"Well I could blow your back out for ya and buy you dinner afterwards. A nice corn dog and push pop from concessions?"

"You're not helping. You corn dog."

"Correction, it's horn dog." He blows a raspberry along my neck, correcting me.

“Billy! Someone will hear us!” I laugh, running my hand through his wet locks.

“Nope paid that one kid five bucks to scare anyone off, think his name is Ben. Maybe Benson?”

“There’s a teenager outside the woman’s shower room scaring people away so you can fuck me?”

“No, I locked the door and put one of the shower chairs under the handle!”

“Hmm, might take me a little more convincing.” I tease, pushing his shoulders down for him to kneel in front of me. He winks holding onto the backs of my thighs.

“God damn, doll.” He nuzzles his nose along the seam of my cunt, lifting one of my legs to hook over his shoulder. “So fucking wet f’ me, huh?”

“Yes...” I moan when he licks a trail from my entrance to my clit sucking the button into his mouth to roll it over his tongue. He looks up at me as two of his fingers split my folds curling them inside me.

“Shit Billy, ‘M close.” I pant holding the back of his head as he licks my cunt like his favorite ice cream flavor. He pulls off suddenly standing, retreating his fingers from my cunt to circle my clit.

“Want to feel you cum on my cock, doll. Get me there.” He commands, thrusting his swollen and leaky cock against my thigh. I grasp him, rolling in matching circles with my thumb along the tip.

My head thumps the tile wall and we giggle at the noise.

“You okay?” He holds me cheek in his free hand then threading his fingers into my soaked hair.

“Yeah, want you.” I whisper, kissing his lips with bruising passion. He takes himself from my hand lining up with my entrance. Holding my other leg against his hip now so I’m spread open for him. He puts my hand between our bodies above my clit,

“Rub your clit for me, not gonna last long in your pretty pussy.” I whimper at the thought, he kisses me deeply as he pushes inside. My walls have to re-stretch around his girth every time. My free hand accidentally scratches along his back as he pounds into me. He pants into my mouth as he picks up speed, I squeeze around him cumming with a soft cry of his name. That sends him over the edge. I can feel the first wave of his hot load as he pushes himself deeper inside.

Billy drops my leg, rubbing at my hip and holding me upright as we come down from our high. He kisses along my collarbone as he reaches for my body wash. We spend a few minutes in peaceful post orgasm, treasuring each other’s bodies before he speaks.

“Feel better, doll?” Billy whispers like an unspoken confession.

“A little, thank you honey.” I turn off the water after we clean ourselves off, he dries off by shaking out his hair like a dog. Pelting me with water droplets in the process.

“What?” He acts innocent as I dry my arms and legs, “I’m going back to the pool anyway.” He hands me a towel allowing me to dress moderately dry. Giving up his water after his guided workout, I take one sip before being hauled over his shoulder.

“Billy!” I yell as he grabs my bag from the hook, moving the chair from the door.

“What? I promised my girl some dinner!” He smacks my ass when he walks down the hall to concessions.

“Billy put me down, I’m too heavy!” I groan, getting nauseous from the pressure on my abdomen. He sets me down on the counter cutting the line completely, getting one of his close friends Heather’s attention in the process.

“Horseshit, you’re fucking light if anything and beautiful no matter what. You could turn green and I’d still do ya.” Heather and I audibly cringe at him.

“Regular for both of you?” she asks leaning over the counter

“Yeah, three corn dogs and a large coke with-”

“With mustard I know!” She goes to the single fryer, dropping them in.

“Have you tipped her today?” I ask him, pinching his waist.

“Ow, hey we both work here. I might as well give her some of my paycheck with the amount of food we trade.”

“Trade?” I raise my eyebrow in disbelief “Billy it is your responsibility as the straight white man to empower the women in your life. Be better.”

“Yeah ass-wipe, be a good civil servant and pay me.” Heather leans over handing me a paper cup of Coke with a straw.

“Stuff it dyke.” I gasp smacking him in the chest, “Ow!”

“Bite me lunkhead.” She fires back at him, they flip each other off like children.

“You two are terrible to each other.” I groan, sliding off the counter when she sets the bag down next to us.

“Hey Y/N, are you coming to the tailgate tonight with everyone?” She asks, tearing a twister with her teeth.

“Um, I don’t know yet. We’ll call you tonight if we can’t make it. Right Bills?” I look at him looking for a way out of it.

“No babe we gotta. We’re hosting the after party at our place with everyone. So I can keep an eye on Max.”

“Don’t go all psycho big brother on her, she’s in high school Billy.” They start to argue about what they were exposed to at young ages and with Max’s condition Billy argues she could be taken advantage of. I feel dizzy as they argue, leaning onto Billy’s shoulder for support.

“You can’t say shit because you are an only child, huh?” Billy pulls me closer by my waist, trying to have me side with him. “Doll, you okay?”

“Huh? Just got really sleepy, I think I should nap and pick up the apartment before we have a bunch of our friends and family over.” I kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you at home?”

“Yeah of course, you want me to walk you to the car?” Billy asks worriedly, pressing a kiss to my temple and hugging me tightly goodbye.

“No it’s okay, have a good shift guys. I’ll see you tonight!” I wave leaving the food and cola with Billy. I drive home quickly and pass out on the couch immediately blaming it on the Hawkins heatwave.

I woke up a couple hours later to dishes clanking together and whispered song lyrics. Stretching my aching muscles, I stand seeing a blanket thrown over my lap. Smiling, I walk into our kitchenette to see Billy with his Walkman on full blast, before he can see me. My stomach gurgles and I race to the bathroom, throwing up an empty stomach of Water and Cola. I sit on the floor for a moment dizzy, dry heaving a few times. Noticing I’d knocked over a box of tampons that were unopened. My heart drops as I try to piece together when I’d had my last period.

“Shit...” I scramble off the bathroom floor going into the bedroom with my purse with my planner and address book. By the book it could’ve been anywhere from 7 to 9 weeks ago. It’s not like Billy and I’s sex life isn’t consistent, and birth control wasn’t something I could feel good about. We agreed to use condoms and suffer any consequences if that happened. Last time this happened was in Highschool, Billy took me to the clinic and they gave me something called Danazol or something like that. Everything turned out okay then, but we were older now this really had consequences now if I was truly pregnant.

“Y/N? Where are you at doll?” Billy yells down the hallway, dragging his feet and hitting his hip on the hall table like always. I look at myself in my vanity mirror and quickly wipe my eyes clean. Running into the closet before he steps inside the room.

“Picking out my outfit for tonight!” I answer back, clearing my throat.

“Oh yeah?” Billy comes around the corner, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Does that mean my girl is gonna give me a little show?” He chuckles.

“Unless you wanna be late to the tailgate? Not again, hot stuff.” I turn out of his arms, looking in our shared dresser for pants.

“Ooo you should wear those black Levi’s your butt looks good in.” He thinks, always having the more trendy style out of the two of us.

“Okay what shirt? I don't want to get too hot.” I add taking the high waisted Levi’s out, with a tired huff.

“I’d say none because you’re already smoking-” Billy teases

“Billy please, you are the one who got me into this mess. Please help me.”

“Okay, I’m sorry for finding you the best thing in my life so violently attractive.” He pleads and pouts “Forgive me, and definitely that solid red crop you wear to the bars.”

“I wear that to show off my boobs and get us free drinks.”

“Exactly, you look great in it.” I scoff, grabbing the clothes and some fresh under clothes.

“Are you ready to go?” I asked him from the bathroom, happy he didn’t look too closely at my facial expressions. Billy has a way with prying things out of people, part of the endless Casanova charm.

“Hell yeah got and eight pack and Munson and that other tall dude are bringing the dobie. We are all set.” He goes on about the plans tonight as I get ready in the bathroom. Looking under the sink after I change my clothes I look for a spare test. Always having some cheap ones lying around for myself or friends. Hitting a particular box with my hand I take it out and go to pee. Setting it on the counter while adding a hint of makeup and volume to my hair.

“Almost ready, Bills.” I call out, waiting longer than three minutes. I close my eyes and flip over the test on the counter. Taking a deep steadying breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. My neck sweats as I slowly open my eyes, looking down. I gasp, loud enough it worries Billy.

“Babe?”

“Sorry accidentally stabbed my eye with the mascara wand!” I say the first thing that comes to mind, cringing as I hold my hand over my mouth.

“Okay we let's get going Indiana, we can’t keep my fans waiting.” He laughs, starting to open the bathroom door. I scramble throwing the test into the medicine cabinet and shutting the mirror.

“Yeah, let’s go!” Billy dips in for a kiss,

“You look beautiful.”

“I look like a sl-”

“No, do you like it?” He asks honestly, I nod my head. He’s matched with cut offs and a Def Leppard muscle tee. “Then you're perfect. Grab your purse doll. I’ll go start the car.”

I smile sighing in relief, wrapping the test in toilet paper and burying it in the trash. Locking the door behind us, Billy already has his new muscle car running. A 1985 Camaro IROC-Z in his signature blue color. The drive to the large run down lot where Star Court had burned down. Gives you shivers thinking about when I lost him for nearly a whole year. He has a hand on my thigh as he pulls up next to Steve’s burgundy BMW. Robin and Nancy immediately separate us, taking me away to get each of us a drink.

“Girls, Jesus hang on a second!” I laugh barely able to get my seat belt off before I’m dragged to Argyle’s Van.

“Hey there pretty ladies Johnny boy has the drinkies in the front seats.” He says as him and Jonathan’s head hang off the side of the out back doors. They are already toasted.

“Got any Coke?” I ask

“Which kind?” I hear a scruffy voice behind me, turning to see Eddie. I hug him tightly,

“Eddie!” I shriek, swallowing down tears in my eyes as Steve stands awkwardly next to him. I pull him into my next hug “Stevie! When did you morons get home?”

“Couple hours ago, Eddie just sold a few songs to a up and coming band in Texas?”

“Yeah, Pantera? Plus another to Warrant again, they should release their new album sometime this fall.” Eddie confirms a little smug,

“Wow good for you, babes.” I smack Eddie’s bare shoulder, feeling someone’s hands wrap around my waist and sniff my hair obnoxiously. “Billy...” I squirm feeling cold beverages in his hands.

“Hello gentlemen, see you’ve reunited with my lover.” His breath reeks of cheap beer already making my stomach turn upside-down.

“Sure have, wanna bum me a smoke like old times?” Eddie shakes Billy’s hand, Steve and Billy share a nod, still not fully healing their relationship quite yet.

“Go hang out with the guys, the girls and I are gonna mingle with some distant friends.” I encourage him, he gives me the ice cold coke he got for me before heading off with them.

“Okay Y/N,” Robin slurs a little, holding onto Nancy’s hand “now I wouldn’t say I’m an expert on breasts more a connoisseur.”

“Because you like judging people” Nancy laughs,

“Shush, baby. We’re all friends here but babes what are you doing differently? You look so hot, right now!” Robin holds her hands out like she’s trying to convince Nancy and I.

“Just a-” I freeze watching Nancy’s eyes narrow, like she does when she is trying to solve a puzzle. Damn Nancy Drew acting Wheeler.

“Just... What?” Robin asks a little loud, we both shush her.

“I’m late.”

“Late?” Robin looks at her girlfriend quizzically,

“How late?” Nancy’s eyes nearly burst out of her skull, Robin nods along with her eyes squinted.

“The positive kind.” You try to hint to both of them, Robin now bobbing along to the music as she drinks from her solo cup.

“Shit, does Billy know?”

“I took the test before we left, I don’t know what to do.”

“Does he want kids?”

“Yes, no? Shit maybe? We’re just in a really good place right now so I’m nervous.” I shrug, and Nancy hugs me. Robin turns around randomly and then runs towards Steve as he goes to get another beer.

“Everything will be okay, we’re here for you.” She takes my arm and we walk around mingling and chasing Robin away from the trunks with beer pong set up on them after she talks to Steve.

He walks back over to the guys, Billy is catching up with Heather when Steve whispers something into Eddie’s ear.

“Yeah right, I’m gonna school your ass when we get to my place.” Billy yells at Heather as she walks towards you and the other girls.

Steve clears his throat, Eddie looks at him oddly. Steve nods towards Billy, Eddie’s brows furrow as he sighs.

“Hey, Billy you're okay with Y/N dressing like that?” Eddie lowly wolf whistles, at the sight of her. Steve knocks on his head with his beer bottle.

“Um hello? I’m right here.” Steve rolls his eyes, Eddie knocks his shoulder, spilling his beer a little on his shirt. Billy laughs when Steve glares back, taking a long drag of his smoke and blowing it in the opposite direction of his friends.

“I picked out her outfit, I know how to fight. Y/N can wear whatever she wants.” Billy says, simply through his exhale.

“Okay man but... Stevie over here did win in ‘84. Just saying.” Eddie says critically, through his teeth, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Hey fuck off Scarface.” Billy scoffs as Steve interjects, wrapping an arm around his very not sober boyfriend's waist.

“Look Hargrove, Eds is just saying Y/N/N has filled out a bit this summer and is getting a little unwarranted attention.” Steve points the neck of his beer bottle to the ex-basketball team, all a bunch of high school rejects still living in their parents basement as they get fatter and older.

“Oh come on, they’re too scared of me to mess with my girl. I came back from the dead remember?” Billy wiggles his spare fingers while oooing and ahhing like a ghost. Eddie laughs at that, knocking their beers together while Steve’s headaches at the idiocracy.

The sun sets and a majority of the adults who have to work in the morning leave. While a majority of the high schoolers stay together drinking the now warm beer, most of our group also sticking close together about starting college or jobs in the fall. Billy and I reunited shortly after to head over to the apartment first, Lucas and Max sat in the back seat of the car as I drove, being the only sober one.

“I totally could’ve driven, I only had a few beers.”

“And smoked a joint with the guys.” I add turning down the music,

“What can't I bond with my little sister's boyfriend?”

“I had one puff, I doubt I’ll even feel anything.”

“One puff was enough, you already drank tonight Lucas.” Max says kindly,

“Pfft you girls worry too much, right Sinclair?” Billy holds out his fist for Lucas to bump it. He laughs a little too hard when Billy tries to yank him forward.

“Don’t gang up on the only two women that enjoy your company.” Max scoffs at her brother.

“Whatever, you're up for some ball tomorrow Sinclair?”

“He can’t-” She’s cut off my Lucas explaining their plans

“Sorry Billy, it’s Max and I’s anniversary. We’re staying in Indianapolis for the night.”

“Aw how cute, please take pictures.” You fawn over them, you know exactly what Lucas has been through. That pain of losing your first love, knowing at a young age it was your last. Taking this second chance for all it’s worth every moment no matter how insignificant it is to others, is precious.

“Better wear protection Sinclair, or I’ll have to kick your ass for knocking up my sister.”

“Billy!” Max punches him hard in the shoulder.

“What Billy means is we want you to be smart about your choices, but we can’t tell you what to do anymore-”

“Just want what’s best for you, you’re good kids. We don’t need more children running around right now, we’re all still kids.” Billy cuts you off,

“Um, Y/N are you on birth control?” Lucas asks politely, We’d agreed when Lucas and Max got serious their junior year they could ask me and Billy anything. I didn’t want them to feel odd for their feelings or idiots for the things that aren’t taught.

“I didn't enjoy it, I use a diaphragm sometimes which is like a cup that prevents the sperm from going up into the cervix. Yet we mainly use condoms because the latter makes us both uncomfortable.” I put simply, shrugging. I look in the back mirror. Lucas is leaning his head on Max’s shoulder as she plays with his shirt cuff.

“It feels like your jamming your penis into plastic Tupperware surrounded by warm-”

“EW! Ew stop Billy.” Max covers her ears and starts singing to the radio. I turn it up for her, we pull up to our assigned parking. Others start filling up the parking lot shortly after making a b-line straight to Billy and I’s apartment.

“No, we had to pull off to the side of the road because we were lost, and exhausted!” Billy exasperates,

“If Billy didn’t finally just pull over, I probably would've strangled him over the armrest.” I add to the story of Billy’s and I’s recent across-country road trip to California.

“So what happened after you figured out where you were?” Will asks

“Not exactly we-”

“We were in the backseat when a Sheriff drove by. We couldn’t even get our pants you all the way before he knocked on the window.” Billy laughs, Eddie and Argyle join him.

“I pulled down my dress while Billy collected himself enough to ask the man, old enough to be my grandfather for directions.” I rolled my eyes, leaning against Billy. He wrapped his arm around me as he finished the story.

“He handed me a handkerchief and slapped me on the back because her lipstick was smeared on my neck.” He pointed right under his jaw,

“Yeah I’m the slut and he was the stud.” I scoff,

“It’s okay baby. He probably keeled over jerking it to the image of you in that sundress when he got home that night.”

“Ew.” I cringe, “Want another babe?” I ask taking his empty beer can away.

“No, I'm good doll.”

“Hey did you hear Carol Perkins and Tommy H. are expecting?” Steve nods, sharing to Billy and I, I stiffen in Billy’s arms thankfully his too tipsy to notice.

“Yeah no shit, I never really gave a shit about them after graduation. They were the kind of people you know in school and then end it. Figures they are one of the firsts to get knocked up.” Billy continues to blabber about how he doesn’t think anyone should have kids until they’re married or at least financially stable among other things. In front of all our friends, who Buckley has told everyone closest to Billy and I.

My stomach turns as I make eye contact with Steve. Him and Billy did work things out, my friendship with Steve and Steve’s serious partnership with Billy’s closet friend Eddie made a huge difference.

“I’ll be back..” I walk down the hallway past my spare bedroom where Robin is passed out as Elle and Max read a Cosmo next to her. I go into the bathroom and sit on the toilet trying to collect myself. There’s a knock and a call of my name. “Almost done.” I call out,

“It’s just me doll, are you okay?” Billy talks quietly, I open the door and he swoops me into his arms, “What’s going on? You’ve been weird all night.”

“I’m sorry.” I mumble in his shoulder

“Don’t apologize, I know you haven’t been feeling good lately. Maybe we should make an appointment or something?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” He kisses me once, then twice.

“Do you want kids?”

“Is that why your acting strange, because of the pressure of having babies outta high school?”

“You didn’t answer my question...” I whisper looking at the ground trying to will tears out of my eyes

“No, I don’t think I do. My Dad was a shitty father to say the least, he thought having me would save his marriage but the abuse he gave to my mom only got worse afterwards. That’s too much responsibility.” He answers so assured and honest it breaks my heart.

Maybe a dog, someday but fuck kids. We’d be great Aunt ‘n Uncle to Max’s kids and anyone else who decides to baby-make.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Why do you ask?” Billy asks nervous

“I heard about Carol at the grocery store and wasn’t sure how’d you react.”

“Oh Y/N I don’t give a crap about them. Not when I have you guys.”

“Hey, I think I’m going to say goodnight to everyone and lay down early.”

“Yeah? I can end the party if you need.”

“No, no. I can sleep through anything.”

“Okay doll, whatever you need.”

I go back out into the living room and slowly say goodnight to everyone, Steve, my best friend next to Billy, hugs me a little longer and a little tighter.

“Good night, honey. We’re here for you.”

“Yeah, always Y/N.”

“Thanks guys, love you.” I blow Eddie and Steve a kiss, Eddie dramatically falls backwards and Steve catches it to place over his heart.

Everyone else bids me goodnight as well, I run into Nancy and she’s waking a very grumpy very sleepy Robin.

“You leaving?” I ask her, Robin is practically curled around Nancy’s small frame leaning on her for support.

“Yeah Robs doesn’t feel good obviously.” Nancy shakes her head, placing a kiss on her partner's cheek.

“I’m never drinking again...” Robin groans

“Get home safe girls, call the house when you get there?” I hug both of them,

“Mike is driving us home since he’s sober, we’ll be okay.” She assures me, small towns were definitely non-conforming but we’d heard of other violence acts committed on same-sex couples in the bigger cities. No one ever deserved that.

Call me, if you need anything. We’re here for you too.” Nancy adds, saying goodbye to everyone as her, Robin and Mike leave.

I go into my bedroom and close the door, putting on my pajamas and removing my makeup. My stomach turns but I go to sleep anyway, a couple hours later I feel the bed dip and a warm arm wrap around my waist. It disappears a few hours later as Billy gets ready for work. Like always, I slowly wake up before he leaves, giving him a goodbye kiss. When he’s out the door, I race to the bathroom and puke my guts out. It’s like that enough of the morning I call out of work. Laying sadly in bed most of the day, until just before Billy gets home around 6. I wash my face and take another test, once again it’s overwhelmingly showing positive. I took this one and the other I hid in the trash last night and put them in my pocket. I conjured a plan on how to tell him, Billy Hargrove. My Billy, he comes home as I’m finishing the only dinner that sounded and smelled appetizing.

“Hey Indiana! I’m home.”

“Hi California.” I call back from the kitchen, plating the chicken and pesto for two. Well three...

How was work?” He kisses me on the cheek, smelling of coconut sunscreen and chlorine.

“It was okay, I had lots of lessons today. The boss is having me take a course on training babies how to swim. Guess it’s in high demand, and extremely important. Almost 45% if not more babies from birth to age four.” He tells me wide eyed, helping me bring the plates to the table as I grab him and beer and the ginger ale I’d been nursing for a couple of hours.

“That’s horrible.”

“Yeah but it means they’re moving me to nearly full-time since those lessons are more important than just the summer. I start working at the Hawkins Rec Center in a few weeks.” He says with a smile hidden by pesto

“Wait, you got a promotion?!”

“Yep, don’t have to go back to the shop this year. I can just teach lessons and couch at the high school.”

“Billy, that's amazing!” I reach out and take his hand,

“I can’t wait, but I’m a little nervous about teaching kiddos so young.”

“You're great with kids Billy.”

“I wasn’t-”

“You’ve changed, you and Max had a lot of unresolved issues. Things have gotten a lot better the past couple years. For christ’s sake she is here for dinner at least once a week if not more. Not even Susan can say she sees her daughter as much.”

“Thanks, how was your day?” He kisses the top of my hand all suave and romantic,

“Haven’t been feeling to good but I think I’ll get better in a couple months...”

“You go to the doctor?”

“No, I took a test yesterday and today.” I swallow the bile rising in my stomach

“If you didn’t go to the doctors-” I cut Billy off, running to the bathroom and clutching the toilet bowl. He follows, then helps by holding my hair and rubbing my back. “We should go to the ER, you didn’t even drink yesterday.”

“It’s okay-”

“No the hell it’s not Y/N! You’re throwing you guts up and you’ve-”

“Billy...” I hold out my hand for him to help me up, flushing the toilet before washing my hands. Tears fall down my cheeks,

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell...”

“It’s not that.” I strain to find the two words, hiding my face in my hands.

“What’s going on?”

“Promise we can talk about this?” I turn to him dizzy, I take his hand in mine and go to sit down on our bed.

“We can talk about anything, Y/N.” He pushes my hair out of my face. I reach into my sweatshirt pocket and turn over the pregnancy tests. Tears continue to cascade down my cheeks as Billy freezes his expression is unreadable. He swallows hard taking the tests.

“I’m pregnant.” I tell him wetly, wiping away tears so I can see him better. He stands, throwing the tests down the hall with a clatter. Hard enough I jump at the sudden action. Hands running through his hair, irritation now bursting through the seams.

“What?” He scoffs

“I’m pregnant, Billy.”

“Fuck, Y/N.” He paces the foot of the bed, working himself up “How long? How long did you keep this shit from me?”

“I-I found out last night.” I explained standing close to him.

“Yeah? Is that why you’ve been all weird and shit around me? You were hiding this?”

“Nooo, no Billy. Please.” I try and reach for him,

“Don’t ‘No, Billy’ me. Is this why you don’t want to go on birth control? Just trying to trap me?” His voice gets elevated as the questions continue, he pushes off my hand like he’s been scolded with hot water.

“No, I love you.” I cry, holding onto myself

“Do you? You know I don’t want kids, Y/N!” He gets in my face words booming through the house and my ears and I gasp. “What the fuck?” He storms out the room, hearing him knock into the table in the hall with a groan before there’s a crash and bang. I run out, he’s thrown it across the hallway creating a dent in the drywall and breaking the legs of anything that was on top flung or stepped on.

“Please don’t push me away!” I raise my voice, trying to walk over the mess in my bare feet.

“Did you even think, to consider how I felt?”

“I am trying to understand but you're yelling and throwing things around. Are you blaming me for this?”

“You’ve got some nerve, it takes two Y/N. You won’t make me do shit, now move.” I find him in the living room collecting his wallet and keys.

“Billy, please-” I beg him standing in front of the door, he moves me aside with a strong hand.

“No, I’m leaving. I can’t do this, this is the one thing.” He spits at me, fire exploding behind his eyes.

“If you leave, I’ll never forgive you!” I call to him, my voice raw and overwhelmed with emotion.

My mind begging and pleading for him to shut the door and engulf me in his arms. Tell me everything will be okay, that he loves me and we’ll get through this.

“It’s too much.” He fums, the door slams shut behind him, shaking a picture off the wall.

I hobble over to it, defeated, it’s one from the California trip. Billy had given the camera he borrowed from Jonathan to an older surfer to take a photo of us at the beach in our wetsuits. My hair is tied back, smiling at the camera with a teeth filled grin. While Billy looks at me and smiles, eyes dopey with exhaustion but something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Joy. The glass from the frame has shattered and scratched it, splitting the two of us by our hands. I hold it close as I dial the only people I can trust,

“Yello, Munsington household or Harrinuson if you like that better.” Eddie answers the phone, with his infectious bravoto.

“Hi Eds.” I sob out in relief.

“Y/N, honey. What’s-” His voice deepens immediately in concern,

“I-I told him, he left. He left me.” I weep into the receiver, trying to collect my thoughts.

“Okay, hey do me a favor unlock the door and turn on the TV? Distract yourself while Steve and I get there.” Eddie tells me calmly, ‘What’s going on?’ I hear Steve interrupts.

“Okay. I’ll try, I’m so sick Eddie.”

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Eddie asks, ‘Is that Y/N/N?’ Steve interrogates still faint on the line.

“No, I’m just puking.”

“Is there blood or anything strange about it?”

“No...” I cry louder

“Hey-hey,” Eddie gets my attention again, “that’s good. Remember what I said, Steve and I are getting in the car right after I hang up.”

“Okay Eds.”

“We’ll be there soon, Sweet Girl.” Steve takes the phone from Eddie who barks ‘Steve where are my keys?!’

Hang tight, I’ll be right there. Everything's gonna be fine.” Steve assures both of us.

“Yeah...”

“We’re on our way.” Steve hangs up the phone, staring at his metal head boyfriend with a single shoe on untied and the other in his hands as he tears up the entire living room looking for his keys.

“Eds?” Steve stands by the landline hands on his hips.

“Hold on Steve, I gotta find my keys!” Eddie holds out his shoe pointing it at his boyfriend as he moves to the kitchen table.

“Eddie.” He scolds in a boisterous manner enough to make Eddie look at him

“What?!” Eddie yells, looking at his boyfriend to find him jiggling Eddie’s car keys in his hand,

“Get in the van-.” He motions him to the door,

“Why’d you let me tear up the apartment?”

“It was kinda funny, give me a reason to make you help me clean it when we get home.” Steve throws the keys to Eddie going to the passenger side.

“I haven’t even put my shoes on.”

“I doubt your shoes will have any impact on us kicking Billy’s ass.”

I hear a single knock at the door before a flurry of dark curls and onyx eyes enters the apartment, behind him a tanned honey colored pompadour with equally syrup eyes enters. I suck in a breath, watching them look around. Steve goes to where I’m crouched in the living room, cleaning up the glass from the picture frame. He immediately engulfs me in his arms, not saying a word as I squeeze him a little too tight.

“Hey, shhh. I’m here, Sweet Girl. I got you.” He holds me tight, his caress of my hair like an affirmation he’s molding to my skin with each rub.

“Shit Steve where is she, he tore up the hallway-” Eddie walks with untied shoes to Steve practically hoisting me in his lap as I cry, he holds one of the positive tests.

Hey, Y/N...” Eddie accidentally steps in the pile of glass swept together, he finishes the job with a broom and dustpan. My breathing steadies a bit more with them here, I’m not alone.

“I'm sorry, I don’t have anyone else to call.”

“Hey now, none of that. Don’t apologize, you’d do the same thing if Eddie knocked me up.” I chuckle at Steve pinching his bicep, feeling relieved by the minute.

“You’d make a great mom.” I breathe deep trying to make the joke back,

“So are you.” Steve kisses my temple, swaying us in the living room. His words sink deep as I hide my wet cheeks and snotty-nose into his shoulder.

“Um, I don't know if you want your pee stick but I found it in the entryway.” Eddie sits criss-crossed in front of us, setting the test down like an offering in front of me. Taking a minute to finally tie his shoes, as if he hasn't tripped a billion times since leaving the apartment.

“Gross Eddie, it’s just called a pregnancy test.” Steve chortles straightening out his leg to kick the other in the thigh.

“Ow! You’ve hurt me deeply Stevie, I twas trying to lighten the mood. Also that pasta is the freaking bomb.” He swats Steve’s foot away when he nudges him again. Noticing a change in mood again, instead of sadness it’s anger.

“It made me sick, that’s how the conversation started...” I mumble against Steve,

“Wait am I going to get sick from eating some?” Eddie asks alarmed

“No stupid she’s having morning sickness, keep up.” He squints at his boyfriend as if to say ‘read the room’.

“Are you PMS-ing babe? You’ve been awfully mean-” The metal head pouts,

“Shush this is about Y/N.” The King with no crown points his finger angry,

“No, I love it when you two bicker like you’ve been married for 50 years.”

“One day with this one is a whole year’s worth of irritation.” Steve sticks out his tongue playfully at Eddie shaking his head.

“I wonder what 5 minutes of pleasure with me is then.” Eddie blows a kiss and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ew stop being in love in front of my unborn child.” the silence is a pregnant as you are.

“So Robin wasn’t just drunk blabbering last night?” Steve rubs his warm hand along my back,

“Nope.” I pop the ‘p’, the silence overwhelms all of us until Eddie gets uncomfortable enough to speak.

“You don’t have to right this second but, you wanna tell us what’s going on?” He fumblingly asks with a concerned smile. I relay all of what happened tonight along with a few more tidbits.

“Billy hasn’t ever explicitly told me he didn’t want kids. So I wasn't expecting him to be excited and have everything figured out but he just left me.”

“Jesus Christ, you talk to anyone else?” Eddie wipes a hand over his forehead, I shake my head. Steve has been tense since I started talking about what Billy said.

“He say where he went?” Steve asks with deathly calm, I shake my head twirling the test in my hands.

“I know where he is, and I’m gonna kill ‘im.” Eddie stands up, taking out his car keys.

“No Eddie!” I whine,

“Munson, where the hell are you going?” Steve stands beside me,

“To talk some sense into this asshole, I love you I’ll be back-” He kisses Steve before running out of the complex.

“Don’t get arrested!” Steve yells out, turning back around to me. “How about you get cleaned up? I’ll clean up out here and we can watch a movie together on the couch like old times.” He offers, holding my arms and massaging my biceps to encourage laughter.

“What about the drywall? And the kitchen-”

“Y/N/N. I’ll call Wayne in the morning, I’m sure he’s got the tools from patching up the trailer. And I’ll clean the kitchen so you don’t get sick again because of the food aversion.”

“You’re stubborn...” I pout, moving over the broken pieces of wall and furniture in the hallway.

“Nah just enough to not take shit from you and Henderson.” He laughs, picking up the trashed things in the hall as I enter the bathroom.

Turning on the shower to warm up a few seconds allows the room to fill with steam. The first thing I see in the mirror is me, hazy and weak. Too weak to handle side effects a a little blue pill, to weak to stick up for myself and yell back, too weak to fix things. The mirror fills with steam as quickly as I fill with dread. I start undressing only able to see my body from a upper preview. For weeks I thought I was bloated, stressed out from my job and not working out. The normal protective pudge of my stomach has a small softball size curve that doesn’t move like the rest of me. It’s hard to suck in, and more prominent when I full relax. I don’t feel scared for myself, but scared of what I can offer. Alone, I’m barely able to remember to drink water but always remember to do the dishes before bed to make breakfast easier to have.

Lamenting through my own thoughts, I shake them away. There’s doctors to talk about this kind of thing, that’s what they’re there for. Support groups for mothers who don’t know what to do. The kids have taught me a lot but none of them except Erica were even under ten when we’d first met. When it’s your own child, it’s a whole different ball game. There will still be a team surrounding me even as the opponents team boo’s and hollers. Now it’s a waiting game to see if my pitcher is with me.

I like to think Billy is a good man, not by any means by himself. Repaired as many relationships as he could, hate who he was before. He thinks before acting but I’d seen that look before, anger is normally a response to a much deeper and complex feeling. Fear, frustration, sadness. He’s been taught his whole life that the answer is to push those other things away, make room for hate, bigotry and self preservation. While I grew up in a different way, in a different world. Built for me to fail, built for me to resent motherhood as the only outcome for my life. The only thing a woman is good at, but doesn’t receive the credit for only the blame and the hard work it takes. To be loved by the things you can create but not the person you are. Billy is just as scared as I am, but I will not be the one to fix this. I will not be alone.

Masterlist

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x reader #dad!billy x mom!reader #billy hargrove x gf!reader #stranger things #stranger things smut #Fix it fanfiction

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insomniakisses · 1 year

Text

Her Little Stark

Character: Cersei Lannister (GOT)

Requested?: Yes

Warnings/Notes: 18+ Content, MINORS DNI, Omegaverse universe, slightly au timeline / events. Tommen and Joffrey r both killed before the wedding, Tywin is the hand of queen Cersei.

You knew it was wrong. Oh how wrong and corrupt it was, the thoughts that flooded your mind about her. Cersei Lannister the queen herself. Your captor, a woman belonging to the family that had torn yours apart and killed multiple of the people you loves. And yet you cant help the throbbing between your legs whenever you see her.

You blamed her, for the way she released her scent around you or for how she always seemed to press her bulge into you as she walked past. The lingering looks and the way shed lean to whisper ungodly vulgar things into your ear about everything she wanted to do with you. It was all too much and had you head over heels for her, weather it was love or lust you weren't sure.

Today like no other you awoke to her shooing out your hand maiden demanding that she tend to your sister instead. Shooting her a look she left without complaint, leaving you staring up at your queen she smiles and reaches her hand out indication for you to take it.

She leads you to the next room, where a the tub is filled with bot water and there's an array of expensive soaps on a table beside it. You turn to her about to protest but she's already ridding you of your night dress, she chuckles almost meanly when you gasp at her palming your ass. Pushing her off and sinking into the tub as a way to hide your naked form from her.

She pays no mind however, sauntering over and sinking to the floor by the tub grabbing the soup she likes the scent of best before dipping it into the tub by you leg. Now wet she glides it across your skin, smiling to herself when you relax and allow her access to your body.

Your calmness fades when you here a quiet “oops” next to your ear, acting as if she had accidentally dropped the bar of soap that had landed by your leg. She acts as if she is about to reach it and you relax slightly, hoping you had simply misjudged her actions letting your eyes close again when you feel her bring her hand back up.

Its only when you feel her fingers rub at your clit that you jolt, attempting to push her off but she simply shushes you, kissing at your neck as her other hand moves to your breasts squeezing and tugging at them as she wishes.

“Its alright my little wolf,” kissing along your neck she moves to nip at your back and shoulders making sure all the marks can be coverable as she relishes in your soft gasps and whines your resolve disappearing as you let her have her way with you. Feeling her push two fingers into you, you cant help lean further into her hold allowing her mouth more area to kiss and mark.

“Quiet now, wouldn't want anyone to hear you sinful little mouth would you, hmm?” she hums against your neck as you plea for your release, which she gladly gives you capturing your lips with her own to silence your moans.

She smiles at your wide eyes when she pulls away, simply continuing to bathe you as if she hadn’t jus touched you in such a sinful way. She helps you dry off and dress, placing soft kisses along your bare skin as she does so, reminding you of how fond she is of her good little wolf and how soon she will have you as her little wife all hers to ruin and fill with her lion cubs.

Now dressed, you feel her arms wrap around you that sweet soft Cersei only you get to see resting against you. “You okay?” she chuckles bitterly the anger returning “I keep you captive here, Your family slaughtered by my own, Your sister tortured by my late son her previously betrothed and both of you needlessly reminded of your own fathers death by my father yet you ask me if I am okay?” She turns you to face her before sinking to her knees in front of you, face resting against your stomach. “Gods I don't deserve you”

Your silent then, hand running through her hair as she holds you to her burying her face deeper into your dress. “I'm sorry I shouldn't have brought it up-” you cut her off by kneeling next to her placing a soft kiss to her own lips. “Its okay” you whisper softly wiping away her tears when you here a knock at the door and are both notified of the council meeting Cersei is to attend immediately.

That night you return to your champers to find a note from Cersei, a request that you should go to her chambers tonight. You knew the connotations if you where to accept she means to bed you, clearly having settled the arrangement that you are to marry her and now needing to begin making heirs for her throne having non as it stands now.

You make quick work of undressing, wrapping one of your cloaks around your bare form and heading to her champers. When you enter you are greeted with the sight of her naked form laying atop the grand rug by her bed. Her hand stroking her cock gently, hand speeding up once she realises your there.

You body moves of its own accord and you find yourself kneeling against her, watching her hand glide up and down before she speaks, “Go on. Suck.”

Your cheeks flush as you move to take the tip into you mouth sucking gently and moaning at the salty taste of her pre-cum. Moving her hand to your hair she pushes you further down, her cock being forced down your throat as she groans. She holds you there while you gag, until you slap at her thigh to let go.

She growls at you, pulling you on top of her as her hand wraps around your throat. You whine in protest when you feel her tip brush against your hole almost slipping in, not wanting your first time to be forceful. As if sensing this she releases your neck, moving her hands to your thighs thumbs brushing the skin gently.

“Now, are you going to behave or act like a spoilt slut?” she taunts moving you against her cock moaning at your wetness coating her cock. “Behave” you whimper and she smirks, nodding in approval as she pulls you into a kiss as she pushes into you softly.

She swallows your moans, guiding you along her cock in a soft pace allowing you to get used to her cock. You surprise her when you grab her hands, pinning her hands above her head and moving to kiss at her neck. You pick up the speed of your hips, bouncing on her cock fast and hard.

A soft gasp escapes her when your lips reach her jaw, cock twitching rapidly and a gush of cum filling landing on your ass when u pull off of her jus before she cums. She groans and thrashes under you in protest as you smirk, “Think i found your weakness baby” you coo in faux sympathy.

Reaching behind you you sink back onto her cock, the tip red and throbbing from her ruined orgasm she groans moving to push you off but you simply grab her face pulling her into a kiss as you you ride her.

You smirk against her lips when she begins cumming again, going to pull off of her once more but she growls deep. Flipping you into a mating press with ease, satisfied smirk on her face as you try and fail to regain control.

“Now you said you would behave, and while i would love to let you have your fun i can’t very well put a baby in you when you wont take my cum” she nips your neck then, placing a kiss on it before biting there again deeper, mate marking you as hers.

She uses this as a distraction to fuck you properly, hard fast thrusts as she nears her next orgasm keeping this pace until her cock shoots hot cum deep into you. She pushes her knot in then her tip kissing your cervix as it shoots her load. Your walls milking her as your orgasm takes over once more.

Your both breathing heavily when she rolls onto her back bringing u with her so your laying on her front her arm rubbing your back. Kissing her neck you smile against her calling her your soft golden lion feeling her start rumbling in response eliciting soft purrs from you.

#game of thrones imagines #got #got x reader #got imagines #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #cersei #lannister #cersei lannister #cersei x reader #cersei imagines #got smut #game of thrones smut #cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister imagines

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captain-mj · 11 days

Note

Pray tell us those streamer au thoughts?

I realized in retrospect that the word I was looking for was youtuber, not necessarily streamer... oops? I hope this is still fine! I explained what I think they'd cover and how they meet

Ghost: He's a cryptid/urban legend youtuber. He often goes to these places and take the most ominous videos known to man. Often includes him perching in places he shouldn't be while in full tac gear. He openly talks about being in the military but is super cagey about further details. Plays some horror games and he starts talking to Soap and Roach through Dead By Daylight

Soap: A gaming youtuber. Actually does stream. Mostly does super long games in one go because he knows if he sets it down he'll never pick it back up. Plays a ton of multiplayer with friends which is how he started talking to Ghost. Openly thirsts after him but in a fun way for the audience. Ghost can't tell if it's real or not.

Roach: Silent youtuber. Mostly posts his own bugs and stays in his lane. Speed runs Terraria whenever his views drop. Has a running bit about having an onlyfans.

Price: Teaches basic self defense. Is the chilliest of all of them. Since he's canonically a stoner now, he's stoned in half of them. Will occasionally join Ghost on his adventures cause they knew each other in the military. Is Simply Built Better.

Gaz: A commentary youtuber, but the kind that is mostly just explaining what's going on, not the kind to fill it with his own opinions. Occasionally features Alex for the ones over the CIA.

Graves: Is a commentary youtuber that does fill it with his own opinions. Has pulled a gun out on screen before Moist Critical style.

Alex: Critics and debunks conspiracy theories. Especially one's connected with certain pipelines. Ghost and him have worked together multiple times and there is ship content of both of them.

Laswell: Doesn't have a youtube channel.

Alejandro: Plays horror games and dating sims. Has a super long series over boyfriend dungeon. Openly talks about his husband constantly.

Rodolfo: Cozy video games. Is stupidly organized about everything. Will not mention he's married.

Valeria: True Crime. She talks about certain female criminals with a little too much love.

Núñez: Valeria's Ryan.

Farah: The obvious answer is over her cause but I never want to go with the obvious answer. She's a ghost hunter. Get fucked.

Oz: Posts coding videos and is very funny. Lowkey like code bullet (god I hope he never sees this)

Velikan: Long think pieces that leave viewers and fundamentally changed.

Mila: Parkour and sight seeing. Breaks into abandoned places. No one knows her, Graves and Oz are friends until they found out they're platonically all living together.

Reyes: Work out youtuber. Shamelessly posts thirst traps.

Chuy: Another cryptid/urban legend youtuber. He focuses more on Mexican culture than Ghost. Refuses to play video games on stream.

#Johnny “Soap” Mactavish #Simon “Ghost” Riley #Rodolfo Parra #Alejandro Vargas #John Price #Kyle “Gaz” Garrick #Phillip Graves #Valeria Garza #Farah Karim #Alex Keller #Kate Laswell #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare II #Call of Duty #Gary Roach Sanderson

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ceilidho · 9 months

Note

Now I cant stop thinking about when Ghost eventually brings Soap over for dinner:

Gf all dolled up, looking at him all pretty, greeting him with the sweetest smile and he can’t stop his mind from wandering to the filthy pictures he has seen of you.

She cooked up something really good (babbling something about keeping her boys strong and healthy, she likes them well fed), it's A5 Wagyu steak (the best cut the butcher had to offer) obviously payed with Ghost's money. He rarely splurges on himself but when it comes to his gf and Soap he doesn’t hold back.

The dinner can go two ways:

1.Lovie seated next to Soap, across from him Ghost. Halfway through his steak he notices a slight touch to his knee, but he brushes it off not acknowledging it further. When that touch gets firmer and starts to wander up his thigh he definitely notices. His body shudders and he almost chokes on the food in his mouth (much to Ghost's enjoyment), his eyes fall on you shooting him a lazy smile and oh my god are your eyes seductive like in the pics.

2.You sitting next to Ghost with Soap across from him. Both men engaged in a conversation about their last Op. When you play the oldest trick written in the books: oops I dropped my fork let me get it from under the table. It helps that Soap is still not fully used to Ghost's unmasked face, so he doesn’t notice you diving under the table. What he does notice is something heavy on his thigh and two hands ghosting over his belt buckle. He visibly jumps a little, his gaze falling into his lap, where you look up at him all doe-eyed, head resting on his right leg, waiting for permission.

In either scenario, a gruff voice brings Soap to snap his eyes back up holding eye-contact with his Lieutenant(who’s completely ignoring your antics):

"Enjoying yourself, Sergeant?"

Anyway it ends with cream pie for dessert <3

(Please tell me off, if i ever cross your boundaries or make you feel uncomfortable it’s the last thing i want to do when sending in nasty thoughts)

you're very sweet to check in about my boundaries!!! don't worry though - as long as the comments aren't aimed towards me (which maybe would be a bit off putting) and they're just related to stuff I'm writing ahah, I don't really care. I probably should think about and then clarify if I have any boundaries on my pinned post, but rn you're totally good!

(nsfw below)

Oh my god that last option has my brain melting out of my ears. Especially if Soap's still half-unsure if they're fucking with him or not, or if this is a one time thing that they're including him on. He obviously doesn't want to blow his only shot if this is the only time he'll ever get to fuck you.

Also there's something so surreal to him about you being on your knees in front of him after he's been literally jerked off in the middle of the desert by the man sitting across the table from him. To photos of you. In any other circumstance, if Soap had met you first and this was just a dinner between the two of you, he wouldn't be half as nervous; he'd be so comfortable and needy while you fit his length down your throat, palming the back of your head and maybe trying to fit more than you can manage before backing off and apologizing 😔

With Ghost sitting there though, just staring at him (and Soap has a fairly good understanding of Ghost as a person, but even he has trouble really getting a read on the guy), he's not sure if he should just sit there motionlessly as you undo his jeans and pull his dick out or if he should touch you. He can't stop looking from your face pressed up against the bulge in his briefs back to Ghost's (no mask now that they're at home away from everyone, but his real face is so much more intimidating somehow in this context).

Ghost at one point going, "Not gonna thank her for all her hard work?" and Soap can only whine and pat the back of your head shakily after coming down your throat, your lips still a bit wet with him when you pull away.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #ghost x soap x reader

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callofdudes · 10 months

Note

Not the one that requested, but I think for the ace reader request’s wording, they meant the reader views the guys romantically but doesn’t confess as they are ace(not aroace) in fear of future rejection

Ooooh, oh that makes sense. Oops.... Well I might just write it all over again 🫣😬 that's my bad folks. That's my bad. So I'll just rewrite the prompt here and figure it out?? Same thing with the right prompt this time. I think I've got it this time.

It's literally almost the same writing of course I changed things, I just wasn't feeling trying to get creative all over again I'm sorry-

Telling them you love them... (Again)

Summary: Ace!Reader struggling to confess to the boys out of fear of not being sexually attracted to them.

Ghost 💀

You knew Ghost wasn't keen on love. He wasn't really keen on anything. So attempting to tell him you loved and appreciated him without being given a glare and a smack in the face was hard.

You usually kept to buying him gifts on the occasion, aiming to finish the paperwork he gave you early. But it all never felt like real appreciation.

You didn't want Ghost thinking that you were into him sexually. Yes you could admit he was attractive but it wasn't like that. That's where the struggles of your confessions lay... You were into him, so romantically swooned over him. And yet you wouldn't see him sexually if you were paid a million bucks. Because that just wasn't it.

It was easier just to write him a note, put down all your complicated emotions on paper and hope he would understand. And you dropped it in his office, worried he would freak out and yell at you for everything you said.

You were looking at documents on your computer when Ghost came into your office, completely unannounced.

"Sergeant."

"Oh- lieutenant!"

He holds up the note, placing it gently on your desk. You look down, immediately feeling ashamed of what you wrote. You wanted to cower away, not knowing how he would react. Would he be mad?? He obviously thought you liked him by the way he came in.

"I'm not mad, I'd just like to talk."

You flick your eyes back up, still feeling ashamed of the things you'd written.

"But I don't... Well, y'know."

"It's not like that..." You mutter, suddenly afraid to look up at him. Ghost's stance softens, voice getting a bit calmer.

"I hope it's not." He steps forward.

You frown, looking up at him. "I love you... Just romantically. I just didn't know how to tell you..."

He nods a little, piecing everything together again.

"And don't think its because of you, no no, I just-" Ghost stepped forward, his eyes locking with yours and he nodded. " I think I understand."

You smile, feeling relief fill you. "You gonna say it back??"

He huffs. "Maybe one day."

"I'll take that." You smiled and squeezed his hand.

The man hummed and nodded, squeezing your hand back. "Thank you I guess... You're not too bad yourself."

You chuckle and stand, eagerly embracing him. "I love you, Simon."

He tensed, but patted your back gently. "I know." He smiled softly. Embracing you firmer than before, resting the fabric of his mask against your forehead where you could feel the warm breaths against your skin. You knew this would work out. You weren't scared anymore.

Gaz 🧢

Gaz was quiet and reserved. Not like Ghost, but he was a private person. He preferred most of his time alone and you often wondered how Soap managed to drag him into such a tight knit friendship.

But you'd also grown close to Gaz. He wasn't as good with expressing his feelings in words he thought fit, so he just tried not to.

But you knew him for him. The music he liked, the movies and the bands. You two would spend hours just laughing and talking together in the quietness of the base, the best of friends.

You have wanted to express to Gaz how much you love him for a while now. Because you truly had fallen in love with him. But considering both of you couldn't get a grasp for proper words, you were afraid he would misunderstand.

Especially since you only saw him romantically. Funny little thing, but all you wanted was that soft, gentle affection and to finally be able to wrap your arms around him without fear. And yet you could never say it.

You were waiting by the cargo station, knee bouncing as you waited for the plane to open. Their mission had been met with problems and there was a slim chance they'd all come back alive.

When you saw Gaz you immediately ran to him, pulling him into your arms and hugging him tightly. "Oh thank goodness."

Gaz was a little surprised but hugged you back. You both stood there like that for a bit until you said it, you didn't care. You'd bottled it in in fear for so long, and you'd almost lost him. You almost lost your best friend. "I love you so much."

Gaz didn't question it. Didn't dig into it. He only held you tighter, reassuring you he loved you back, and he wasn't going anywhere. There wasn't any need for clarification, there just was. You pulled away enough to look into his eyes, and the relief filled you both to the brim, you'd sort it out later, go through the details later. For now, you were here and he was alive.

"You should get cleaned up. I'll make you some tea as well."

Gaz smiles. "You're awesome, thank you." He leans forward and presses a soft, almost feather light kiss to your cheek.

"Don't worry, I know." He whispered, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. You didn't have to worry, he knew about your sexuality. And he was perfectly ok with it.

And without a second thought you both parted ways for a time.

Sure, you'd sort the fine details out later, but right now there wasn't a question about where this was headed.

Price 🥃

Price was a warm yet harsh soul. You'd known him for a couple years and he'd been amazing guidance for you. Always a light you could follow. In the darkest of times you could always reach for his hand and be assured you'd find it.

You'd recently found yourself swooning over him. You wanted to be in his embrace, feel those reassuring and firm hugs. His beard against your forehead when he kissed your head while talking softly.

And yet. Because of your ranks the scandelousness of a relationship was a bit tedious in the work forece. Sexual or not. But you didn't have sexual feelings for him. You were swimming in the ocean of love. But that was it.

After a recent mission you'd come back a little scratched up. You thought you were going to die and were in tears when you walked over to Price, feeling his arms wrap around you to comfort you.

He hadn't been there with you that time. But you were relieved to be back. Even when he pulled you into his office to clean your face you were still softly crying.

"It's alright sergeant, I've got you..." Price reassured as he pressed the alcohol pad to your chin.

You sniffled, wiping a tear from your cheek. "Price??"

"Yes sergeant. I'm right here."

You sniffle. "You know I love you right?"

He looks deep into your eyes, taking a moment to process your body language and fully understand. "I love you too sergeant. I'm glad you're ok."

You nodded a little. "You... You know it's not sexual right? I'm sorry if..." You said weakly. The earlier regret of the mission had made you slip your tongue, and now you felt more anxiety.

"I know kid, I know." He patted your shoulder. "Come here, you're still a little shaken up aren'tcha?"

You nod and crawl into his arms, feeling him hug you tightly. "It's alright. I'm here." He runs his hand up to the your nape of your neck, reassuring you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "This alright?"

You nod, clinging to him.

"Alright. We'll sort all these feelings out together in the morning ok? But I understand, and its ok."

"I love you Price." You choked out again. He softly shushed you, keeping you in his arms. "I know Y/n, I know."

Soap 🧼

Johnny was not unfamiliar with your secrets. He knew you very well and had come to learn of your lack of sexual attraction to others. Didn't change how he saw you, you were still his bestie.

He himself was conflicted in if he should tell you that he loves you. He didn't know how you might take it and wanted to remain respectful of you and your boundaries.

You laid on his bed with him, listening and joking as he told you a story about setting off a small bomb near the recruit bathrooms.

He was laughing so hard his face turned red, smiling wide as his hand brushed across yours while trying to find air.

You smiled back, gently taking his hand in yours. You watched his cheeks tint red and it makes your heart flutter. You were so in love with him. But knowing Soap... You were so scared to confess to him. Especially with your lack of sexual attracion and knowing he wanted kids in he future.

You'd bothed talked about your ideal future relatonship, and though you were almot perfect for each other, the differences were staggering to say the least.

But the way he was looking at you. With tha lost look of utter happiness as he talked to you...

"Soap??" You look up at him with a slightly less whimsy gaze, contemplating the heaviness of your next words.

"Soap, I just want you to know... You're my best friend and.." you squeeze his hand. "I love you."

He slowly calmed down and looked at you. "Oh... you do?" He could see the look in your eye and shuffled closer, getting slightly into your bubble without realizing.

You felt comfortable with him. So incredibly comfortable. All those years fretting and worrying what he'd think. All you saw right now was the smile of your best friend and how much you were in love with him...

Soap is a little quiet for a moment. "Not sexual right?"

His frown makes you worry as you rush to explain as best you could all over again. You just really love him and everything about him. Just not sexually.

It makes a smile spread across his face. He takes your hand and places it against his chest. "You are the most amazing person in the whole world y/n. I don't know what I'd ever do without you. I love you too."

"You're sure... but, our futures?"

He leaned in, cupping your chin. "We'll figure it out, promise?''

You smile softly, happy to have said it. He leaned in, warm breath drifting over your lips. "Can I kiss you?" He asked. You nod, and before you know it, his lips are sinking against yours.

König 🐙

You sighed, bouncing your knee in agitation. The thought of your first solo mission... You'd be lying if you said it wasn't daunting. You'd always gone on missions with König or different members from KorTac. But you'd never been assigned your own mission.

You started to question if you'd be good enough and could get home ok. It made you worry, if you'd ever come back.

You were wrapped up in your thoughts, not noticing the large figure who sat down next to you, leaning over to look at your face. "What has you looking like that y/n?"

You looked up at the sound of his voice and sighed. "I'm just nervous about the mission..."

He nodded understandingly and took your hand in his. "You'll be alright. I do not doubt your abilities one bit you know. You'll do it."

You chuckle softly. "You say that now but... What if I get hurt??"

"Then I'll come find you." He squeezes your hand. "But you will be alright."

Your heart clenches hearing him say that. You'd found yourself falling in love with Konig after a bit of time working with him. And now you were contemplating telling him. The only thing keeping you nack was well... You weren't sexually attracted to him. And you didn't want Koing to take it the wrong way.

You squeeze his hand a little tighter.

"König? You know... You've really been a good friend. And you've helped me grow so much since I've been here... I really don't know what I'd do without you here with me."

He tutted softly. "Do not start writing the words for your obituary, y/n."

You sigh, leaning against his shoulder, relishing the last hours you have with him before you'll be sent off. "I... I love you König... You know that? You're everything to me. I know it hasn't been two years but-"

"Shh" he squeezes your hand. "Take some deep breaths." He smiles softly. "I love you too, but do not expect you to be going anywhere soon. Ok?"

You relax, seeing how it wasn't a big deal. "It's not... sexual though, but It doesn't mean I dont love you, I'm very attracted to you, but it's not... Like that."

He hummed again. "We'll talk about all this in detail when you get back. And you will return, alright?''

You nod once more. "Thank you König. Thank you."

He squeezes your hand again gently. For reassurance. To tell you no matter what he was there. No matter what.

Alejandro & Rudy.

Alejandro sighed loudly, flopping down on the couch next to you and Rodolfo.

"Well well, welcome back Mr. Vargas." You chuckle, putting down your phone to see his tired expression. "How did it go?" Rodolfo asked lazily, eyes still trained on his book, curled up on the couch, his thigh against yours.

"I'm so glad to be off my feet." Alejandro sighed, grabbing the tv remote and turned it on, flipping through the shows before finding something to play.

He gets back up again and wanders into the kitchen, grabbing three ice cold drinks, tossing the other two to you guys who eagerly catch them and crack them open.

Alejandro huffs when he sits back down, taking a swig and finally relaxing. "Glad to be back with my two favorite people."

You and the boys were close enough and comfortable enough that you were ok with their physical touch, so you were used to Alejandro wrapping a respectful arm around your shoulder and you'd usually end up snuggled up, giving Rodolfo the room to join when he wanted.

Today was no different as you snuggled up to his side and felt his warmth. "Geez, maybe you need a bath. And you smell fuckin' awful." You snort.

Rodolfo chuckles and nods. "I can smell you from here Ale."

The man only rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Ya both better appreciate my presence. It's a gift."

"We do appreicate you Ale."

Considering how romantically fallen down the stairs you were for these two you were surprised you hadn't confessed yet. Always relishing the times you got loving physical contact with them. But knowing Ale as the flirt you always hesitate confessing your romantic attraction. Especially as it wasn't backed by sexual attraction.

You snuggled closer. "You work really hard for us Alejandro. You deserve all the rest today." You smile and hug his waist. You really did appreciate him. The fear and the worry of what he might think, of how he'd feel if you ever expressed it... But you went for it. You wanted him to know how much you appreciated him. You really did.

"You know... I love you, Ale. Like I said, you're amazing and you support us so much. Working your butt off like this just so we get a few hours off."

But they both were aware of your sexual preferences. That being none, so hearing this from you, they knew it was nothing but soft affection you had in your heart for them...

Alejandro smiled softly, his arm wrapping a little tighter around you. "Is that so??" He chuckled. "Not even you could resist falling in love with this eh?"

You roll your eyes playfully as he pulls you closer by the shoulder and kisses the top of your head. "I love you too y/n."

You stick out your foot, bumping your feet against Rodolfo's. "You too mister!" He looks up and smiles. "You are good y/n, it's a blessing to have you with us."

"Then come here you, get in on the cuddles."

Rodolfo huffs and puts down his book, but curls up with you two as you all watch the show. He leans in and nuzzles his nose against your neck, kissing your jaw briefly. Soft affection. Nothing better than spending time with your two favorite people.

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