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briefalpacashark · 2 months

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~Ghost of the Past~

=Part Two=

Warning: Violence, death, graphic scenes.

Cleared area your ass. You saw three of your former team. Jamie was standing out in the open. He was dazed stumbling around while holding his gut. He didn't see the enemy, but you did. You crash tackled the poor lad behind a piece of felled debris as bullets rained down upon you. You felt a hot pain travers up your arm. You checked to see only a bullet graze. Jamie on the other hand.

“Fuck,” You whispered seeing his spitting shoulder hit. And the hole in his lower stomach. Readjusting you gun you peeked over your cover taking out a few of the advancing enemies. At your returned fire they all moved for cover. It gave you a really short amount of time to bind Jamie shoulder with a pressure bandage. You checked in the bullet had gone straight though his stomach only to see it hadn't. You returned fire again before stuffing gaze into the hole. All the while Jamies head rolled around with disoriented pained grunts.

“This is Doc. Requesting medevac,” you spoke into the coms. What greeted you was static.

"It's gonna be ok Jamie, I got you mate," you said.

“This is doc, is anyone there?” you spoke again. Your eyes widened when the click of metal got you attention. A grenade had landed beside you. Faster than your brain could comprehend you grabbed it chucking it back over, throwing your body on Jamie. The blast rocked you slightly, throwing all manner of barbies and dust over you.

“THIS IS DOC! IS ANYONE THERE OVER!?” You yelled into the comm. Across the way you saw your other old team members pinned behind a building.

“I NEED assistance. Im pinned down,” you spoke again.

“Well, this sounds familiar,” Adam's cold voice invaded your ears. Turning the swirling storm of panic into a sharped edged blade. He had cut your comms of from everyone else's. Set up a line just for the two of you.

“The fuck is happening Adam. You said this area was cleared,” you hissed.

“Oh did I. Must have been my mistake,” he muttered.

“I need assistance. Jamies down,” you hated him, you wanted to kill him. but you hoped that he still had some good in him. if not for you then for Jamie.

“Pity, sorry can't help you. It looks mighty dangerous over there,” your eyes wafted over the battlefield. You found Adam standing a way away. With a shit eating grin on his face. Half of your team was with him. They were moving away from the action, towards the exit. the panic stabbed right through your heart at the all to familiar sight.

“What the fuck are you doing Adam?” you asked. They were leaving you.

“We got orders to retreat. But it seems like they have a comm blocker. Can't get into touch with team bravo,” your blood ran cold, panic sweeping the breath from you lungs. Bravo team. The boys.

“Looks like our intel was wrong to. Seems to be a lot more bogies than originally thought,” he stated a cackling chuckle leaving his lips.

“Good luck Maddog,” he smiled giving you a mock salute before turning and leaving. If it was any other situation you would have taken a moment to let the situation sink in. But this was battle, one moment could mean the difference between life and death.

“GET OVER HERE!” You yelled across the way your old team members grateful for the sanctuary of orders in their blind panic. Rising up you provided covered as they rushed towards you.

“Mad dog,” Anna greeted your briefly. She swallowed unsure of what you were about to do. She was surprised when you placed you hand on her shoulder.

"You hit?" you still wore the same concerned frown you always had. She didn't understand why you still cared for her. Not after what she did. She numbly shock her head the other doing so as well.

“Take him and get your asses out of here,” you ordered nodding down to Jamie.

“Yes ma'am,” she nodded. You pulled a pin of a grenade and threw it.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you sprinted down the hallways. Everybody you passed you searched for familiar features. Soap's mohawk. Ghosts mask. Prices hat. Gaz cap. It was a brutal game of tag between dread and relief. Then you saw them. Standing around a group of captured soldiers like it was a Tuesday lunch.

“Comms are on the fritz,” Gaz announced.

“Anyone got Doc's location?” Price asked.

“I'm here!” You announced. They all turned to you taking in your appearance. you were covered in dust. Sweat lines dragging through it like art.

“You look like shite,” Price grinned at you. Relife, utter relief filled you. They were ok. They were alive.

“Your hit,” Soap took notice of the blood first as they moved towards you.

“Just a scratch. We've got orders to retreat,” you stated. The boys frowned.

“But we completed the mission?” Gaz stated. They had. Lucky bastards cleared out the whole base themselves.

“Those are the orders. Comms are being blocked,” you stated.

“Alright, let's get going lads,” Price announced. You quickly made your way from the base and back to the transport. As you drove back you couldn't help but stare at the boys. Your heart was still pounding. The boys were joking about something or other. You looked down to Ghost hand that rested against his thigh. You were suddenly overcome by the need to see if it was real. If they were real. To make sure it wasn't some fantasies you had conjured up in your head. Ever so slightly your fingertips took ahold of the lose fabric. A deep breath left your lips as you held it tightly. He was there. They all were. Throwing you head back you rested it against the side of the truck tears glistening between your lashes. Ghost looked down at your hand, at your spaced breathing pattern. At the slight pinch of your brows as you finger clung so desperately onto his sleeve. Feeling pressure on you left side you opened your eyes to see Ghost had pressed himself against you. Your relished in the warmth and reassurance it gave you. It was subtle, unnoticed by the other boys. But it grounded you. Pulling your head out of the 'what ifs' to the now.

When you got back to base your eyes locked in on Adam. He was laughing with his team. When they noticed you guys, they seemed shocked. Understandable, not many could do what your boys could.

“So, they weren't joking when they said you guys meant business. Gotta say I'm impressed,” Adam stated with a wide blown smile. Your team stopped in front of them.

You didn't.

It took three large strides to close the distance between you. And only a second for you to pull your knife from its holster and shove it against Adams neck, your other hand gripping his collar to hold him stead.

“THE FUCK YOU PLAYING AT HUH!?” You screamed.

“Whoah hey hehehe,” he held his hands up in surrender.

“DOC STAND DOWN!” Price's order went over your head.

“I swear to god, anyone touches me, and I'll cut his throat,” you threat was real. You wanted them to give you an excuse to do it.

“Its alright Maddog. The fights over. Your safe,” Adam went to put a hand on your shoulder. His movements only stopped when you pushed the knife flush against his neck slicing the skin ever so slightly.

“How fucked up in the head are you? What makes you think you can get away with this huh?” you asked. The sly smile pulled over his lips.

“I dont know what you mean,” he said innocently. Fury, utter fury raged within you. You could feel you hand wanting to move. Wanting to slice his neck open and watching him bleed out infront of you.

“Y/N,” Price called softly. You were breathing erratically as you hand shock. Most thought you would actually do it. You flinched lightly as a hand encompassed your own. You looked to the side to see Ghost. His gaze soft.

“Its alright. We got you,” he whispered softly. His hand trailed up your arm. to your hand which he gave a soft squeeze before pulling it back. He gently took the knife from your grasp. And you let him.

“Good choice,” Adam swallowed. Your fist snapped out cracking into his face sending him on his ass. Ghost wrapped his arms around you pulling you back where Soap took the other side of you.

“Enough!” Price yelled stepping between you two.

“I don't give a fuck what you do to me. But the next time you throw my boys under the bus like that again it will be a bullet I put though your face. Not my fucking fist,” you seethed glaring dagger at him. He chuckled whipping the blood from his broken nose.

“And that's why she's called mad dog,” he uttered getting to his feet with the help of his men. Some which held guilty looks.

“Keep that one on a short leash captain. She can tend to wander,” you tried to get a second hit in, but the boys held you back.

“Walk it off sargent!” Price deamned pointing you in the opposite direction.

“Yeah, walk it off,” Adam tainted. Price turned to glare at him.

“You stay the fuck away from her you understand boy," Price got into his face talking to his as if he would scold a child. And Adam hated that. Ripping yourself form the boys grasp you turned on you heel and stomped away.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You were all informed that another mission would take place the day after. After the whole ordeal the boys had looked for you. They were worried about you. You had completely disappeared. Nobody knew where you were. You hadn't signed out of the base. So, Gaze tracked your phone.

So there you stood hidden in the bushes as you stared at a certain grave not to far from you. You heard the boys walk up to your side. You were wearing a hood an a medical mask to cover your features.

“Visiting an old friend?” Price asked. They had all lost someone special to them. Whether it be a fellow soldier or family. You had hardly talked about your past, so they didn't know who you lost.

“You guys shouldn't be here,” you whispered softly. Then from the hill emerged two people. And older man in his late fifties. Under his arm sat a bottle of whiskey. He had lanky legs and a beer belly. With a kind old smile on his face.

“Come on. You know how she gets when were late,” he called behind him.

“Coming dad,” a teenage ran up to him. He had tosseled brown hair and stood just about as tall as his dad.

“Who are they?” Gaz asked.

“My family,” you whispered.

“You sure lass. Height dosent really add up,” Soap joked softly.

“What can I say. I lost the gene lottery,” you shrugged.

“You gonna go say hi?” Price asked.

“No,” you whispered solemnly. Getting the message that you wanted to be quiet they all slipped into silence.

“Still ordering me around huh?” A woman with olive skin and black hair walked up to them. A steak of silver shone in her perfect updo.

“We were married for eighteen years. I think I deserve some penance for my sentence,” the two smiled at each other. The divorce had been amicable, and they had become good friends after it.

“Goodmorning sweetheart,” you father called softly a solemn smile gracing his features as they approached the grave.

“Sup cunt,” Your brother stated earning a slap from your mother.

“Dont be mean. Go on tell her what you did,” she encouraged him.

“So rember when you said I had a knack for engine and stuff. And I laughed and said I was just gonna become a millionaire,” he trailed o scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I got a scholarship to this really good school. Everything paid for. Dad was really happy about that,” the joke had your family smiling.

“It turns out you were right. I'm doing well. Really well. Skipped a grade. And I'm really enjoying it,” he stated.

“Got his cherry popped to,” you father said earning a blush from you brother.

"Her names Ella. Sweet little thing. Shes got him by the balls," your mother stated.

"Mum," he groaned with a heavy blush.

“I meet a man. His name is Greg. I think I'll being him next time,” your mother said.

“He's a cunt,” you father stated.

“He's better in bed than your father,” she stated. You smiled as they slipped into their usual banter. The insults having the weight of jack shit.

“Found this hidden in your little secret compartment,” you dad tapped his nose with a knowing look. The boys watched on as they talked to the grave like it was an actual person.

“Have a drink with your old man yeah?” he suggested. The drink was passed around as they all poured some in their cups. An extra cup was set atop the grave.

“To our little girl. Shortest little shit I've ever meet,” they cheer.

"Happy birthday darling," you mother said. It was silent after that. Your family moved to hold each other as they mourned. Tears falling to the freshly cut grass.

“She would have been so proud of you,” you mother whispered running her hand through your brothers hair.

“She would have been proud of us all. Thats just how she is,” he whispered back. You watched as they drank and talked about there lives. What they had been up to. The sun had begun to set when they decided to leave. Your bother lingered slightly tears rushing down his face.

“I miss you bitch,” he mumbled knocking his knuckles on the edge of the grave. The boys knew that move. You would do that to them wherever they went in for a fist bump. He turned and walked away. With a heavy heart you watched them leave. “Why didn't you say hello?” Soap asked. You didn't answer, instead you walked up to the grave and took the drink in hand. You swirled it around watching the car pull away. The boys slowly walked up to you examining the grave.

Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.

Beloved daughter, friend and soldier.

“The fuck is this?” Soap asked in shock. They were all shocked, but they quickly put two and two together.

“It was part of the deal,” you rolled the words on your touge.

“What deal?” Price asked. You wanted to tell them. No, you needed to tell them. You couldn't go on another mission with the bloody hells. You had gotten lucky. Extremely lucky. Sure, telling them the truth might put you in a dangerous situation, but you would do it to protect them. And you trusted them.

“Way back there was a mission. Things went south. Adam got his hands on some valuable information. I stayed behind to make sure everyone was safe. And when I went to regroup with them,” you trailed off your throat becoming tight.

“They didn't wait for me. They left. Leaving me in a deep hole of shit. I was captured. Tortured for the information Adam had stolen. When they realized I wouldn't break they proposed a deal. The information for me. Adam didn't agree,” you recalled the events.

“The information wasn't intergyral, but it did make him rich. I don't know what he did with it. Probably sold it to a third party. When I realized, nobody was coming to save me, I got myself out. Came back here only to find out that they had all given reports that they had seen me gunned down. That they confirmed I was dead. Head office chucked it up to some bull shit Mirical. Having escaped I had a lot of heat on me. I had fucked around with some pretty important people. Friendly and otherwise. Turns out a lot of important people had their hands all over that mission. They went after my family. I made a deal with the military. In exchange for my families safely I would become there lacky,” you said nodding to the grave. “If I stayed quiet about it all,” you added.

“By all official records I am dead. Only a few choices military know otherwise. They thought I was a nifty little card to hold. Someone they could send where every they want to do whatever they wanted. No red strings attached. Someone that technically didn't exist. A ghost,” you chuckled bitterly.

"I was actually doing their dirty work when we first meet. I was surprised when they gave the green light to join the 141," you took a sip of the drink.

“In the end I was supposed to die on that mission. They used my family as leverage to insure I had,” you whispered looking deep into the dark liquid.

“Why are you telling us now? Wy not before?” Price asked solemnly.

“He threated you guys, told me to behave,” you admitted.

“So why tell us?” Ghost asked.

“Because I'm scared,” you admitted honestly. Your breath shock as you turned to them your eyes welling with tears.

“On that mission. He cut the comms. He lied bout the numbers. He sent you guys into a trap and he fucking smirked at me while he did it,” your hands trembled as they gripped the drink.

“I was so scared I had lost you guys,” you said.

“I was scared to lose another family,” you cried. It meant a lot to the boys to hear that. That word. Family. That exactly what they were to you. And that's exactly what you were to them.

"But were here love. Were all alright,” Gaz tried to lighten you up.

“By sheer dumb luck!” you snapped.

“I know I might lose you one day. I've known that for a long time. Were soldiers. That comes with the uniform, but I'll be dammed if I let that fucker be the one that does it,” you huffed. Silence washed over you as you looked each of them in the eye stopping at Ghost. “You guys mean too much to me,’" you added. "So please. Don't send us on another mission with him,” you begged turning to Price.

“He can't know I told you about it ither,” you added. Price walked up to you his expression deathly serious.

“Then why would he risk you coming back here?” he asked. You shrugged frustrated with it all.

“I-I don't know. I don't know if he's goanna hurt my family. If he's gonna hurt, you. If he wants to finish the job he started?” you gestured to him. There it was again. That anxiety. Seeing the start of your panic Price stepped forward again.

“Come er,” you were slightly surprised when he pulled you into his chest. He held you firmly as he tucked you head under his chin.

“It's gonna be alright love. You've done well,” he whispered. It felt like the hugs your father used to give. You reached up gripping the back of his shirt and hugging him tightly the tears free falling.

“We got you,” he whispered.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On the drive back you were sandwiched in the back with Ghost and Soap. You had been silent since the graveyard. Which wasn't like you.

“Can we get hungry jacks?” You asked. It was a relief to the boys to hear that. At least you were still hungry.

“Yeah, we can do that,” Price nodded. It was quite funny watching price try and order for the whole car. Especially because the drive thru guy couldn't understand there accents half the time. And Soap yelling from the back just made it worse. After getting the food you picked away at it happily as you drove back to base. Ghost paused as he felt a wight drop against his shoulder. He looked down at you to see you fast asleep. You mouth open mid chew. A burger in one hand and a drink in the other. Soap smiled when he noticed taking a quick picture before taking the food from your hands. When the car stopped, they all piled out, except Ghost and you.

“Coming?” Soap asked bending down through the door.

“I'll stay a little bit,” Ghost whispered. Soap smiled knowingly giving a nod and silently closing the door.

It was two hours before you stirred awake.

“We here?” you asked finishing chewing the remnants of the burger.

“Yeah,” Ghost murmured getting out of the car. You followed after him frowning when you saw a wet patch on his shoulder. Whipping the dribbled form the corner of your lips you shrugged.

"You got a wet patch there," you stated.

"No I don't," he stated.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next day you and the boys sat down decided on what to do. When you explained in more detail about what went down in the mission the boys were furious.

And lets just say that the 141 gets even.

The mission involved clearing out a safe house of sorts. A back up base. During the next mission you walked into a room, gun raised with Gaz on point. You were right behind him. Everything was going perfectly. Till it wasn't.

The movement was so quick you only saw what had happened when you turned. Gaz stood, with Adam behind him. A gun pressed against his temple. Terror took ahold of you as you mad eye contact with Gazs own fear filled pupils. You paused in the doorway. Adam didn't know the other two were there.

“Let him go Adam, lower the gun” you demanded. Price and Ghost pressed themselves against the wall.

“Come on Maddog. You know I can't do that,” he stated. You glanced out the doorway as Price held up five fingers. He was asking how many were in the room. You glanced around. It was only Adam.

“Looking for your friends?” he asked. Price had told him the team would split in two. It was part of your plan. Price slowly put his fingers down.

“Of course,” You answered when Price got to one. Price turned to Ghost giving him hand signs before nodding him off. He looked back at you tapping his watch.

Buy some time. They were your orders. The comms was open so you could hear Ghost rapid footsteps.

“Unlike you I know they have my back,” you said.

“Cute. Drop the gun,” he ordered.

“Or I can shoot you,” You suggested.

“I know you're a good shoot but that's cutting it a bit close huh?” he asked sliding further behind Gaz. He was right. You ran the risk of hitting Gaz.

“Get him Doc,” Gaz encouraged you. Your face scrunched up as Adam shock him slightly pressing the barrel painfully further into his skull. Chucking you gun to the side you glared.

“Good girl. Now on your knees,” he demanded. You obeyed.

“Put those on,” he kicked forward a pair of zip ties.

“What are you doing Adam? Whats your plan this time huh?” you asked.

“Well, this plan is a little more brutal than my last. After all I tried so hard to make it look like an accident. I knew you bleeding heart wouldn't leave that kid. I even told then to target you as well. But no, you just won't die huh? You should have just died Y/N,” he hissed. You stared at him.

Adam was more than just your former commander. He was your best friends since diapers. You had grown up together. Your bond used to be the strongest in the world. You had entered the military together, built up your carrers and skills side by side.

“What happened to you Adam?” You asked. The man before you was a shadow of the one you once loved so dearly.

“I got smart, that's what happened,” he spat.

“This isn't like you. The Adam I knew would have never sold me out for a lousy paycheck,” you were buying time. But you were also trying to reason with your friend.

“Would you just quit it. I've always been on the bottom run. Always poor. Do you know how differently they looked at me with my raggy shoes?” he asked.

“So you sold me out to get rich then?” you asked.

"Wow. Smart you are. And no, I didn't sell you out. You were just a chess piece. A tool to get what I wanted” he said.

“You know that's not true,” you murmered. You could see it, the conflict inside him, however small it was it was still there.

“Please, just put down the gun,” you begged. For a second he saw you, only a younger you. And instead of begging to put his gun down you were begging him to stop shooting you with a water gun. You wore such a bright smile. Perhaps he had loved you once. Along time ago. But that side of him had died a long time ago.

"I really should have killed you that day," he admitted.

"Then why didn't you?" you asked.

"Because I was weak. I let you live because I didn't have the guts to kill you myself," he hissed.

"Thats not a problem now," Your eye's widened as the gun turned to you. The window shattered as Ghost emerged from it having sung down from the higher level. The distraction allowing Gaz to shove Adam back. All the while you pulled your handgun from its hoister and pulled the trigger.

Two shots' still rung out.

Pain split through your left chest as the bullet cleaved through you.

“GAH!” you hit the ground. Adam body following shortly after a bullet hole sizzling between his eyes, his brains splattered over the wall.

“DOC!” Your vision blurred with tears as you hand was forced away from your wound.

“Fuck,” Ghost grunted as he ripped you vest from you. With your luck the bullet had just missed the vest. Since you were still gasping for breath, you gathered it hadn't hit your lungs or vital organs, but it stung like a bitch. You were jostled up into a seated position. Where your sanity somewhat returned to you.

“Theres and exit wound,” Ghost stated.

“FUCKING HELL!” you yelled as they started to shove gauz into the hole.

“Gaz?” you blindly searched for him.

“Right here Doc,” he said giving your leg a squeeze. You gaze focused to see them crowded around you. Price standing guard while Soap tended to the wound and Ghost held you up.

“That really hurts,” you chuckled a laugh before grunting again.

“You are one lucky little fucker,” Price huffed.

“Who me?” you asked.

“Can you walk?” he asked as Soap finished tying off the bandage. His eyes glanced down at the bandages that quickly became soaked in blood. He didn't like how fast it had happened.

“Walk? I fell like a running a marathon,” you joked.

“Ghost,” he nodded to Ghost who nodded back.

“Let's move,” he said. With Ghost taking most of your weight you started making you way from the base. With a fleeting look to the dead corps, you felt your eyes close.

You had passed out somewhere between leaving the room and getting back to the transport.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

While you were unconscious Price made some bullshit excuse for Adams death. The excuse worked well. Nobody questioned anything. After all missions go south all the time. He was simply listed as a casualty. That was all the respect he deserved.

When it was time to go home you at in the plane your shoulder in a sling. You were on strict orders not to use it for a bit. Your mind reeled with Adam dead gaze. At the moment you took aim and pulled the trigger. Did you want to kill him. Never. Would you have done it save on of your boys. Defiantly, without a moment's hesitation.

“Y/N,” you stood as you saw Jamie run towards you stopping at the plane ramp. Well waddle as best he could in his state.

“What's up kid?” you asked.

“Thankyou, for everything,” he yelled as the plane started up. He was a good kid.

You gave him one of your signature smiles. The one you always gave him before everything went to shit.

“Look after yourself alright,” you yelled.

“You have friends here Y/N. Whenever you need. We owe you that much!” he called. You nodded.

“Goodby Jamie,” you called as the ramp lifted. Silently you walked over to your seat struggling with your buckle.

“Need help?” Ghost asked. You nodded. Reaching over he quickly buckled you in pulling the strap tight.

“You know I've been wondering. Why Maddog?” Soap asked. A melancholy smile graced your lips.

“I bit the finger off the doctor that was giving me a shot. Adam was there for it. The doc called me a mad dog. Name kinda stuck,” you shrugged.

“So you did bight his finger off?” Ghost asked.

“I did. Rember that next time you fuckers try and give e a shoot,” you said clacking your teeth together in a biting motion.

“God help your future partner,” Soap shock his head. You all chuckle.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you were back at base you sat out on the little patio a beer in hand. You were simply thinking. about it all. You wondered if you had done something different if it would have changed everything.

Ghost silently walked out stopping by your side to offer a cigarette. You shock your head.

"He was more than a team leader to you, wasn't he?" Ghost asked.

"How did you know?" you asked.

"The look of regret you had when you saw his corps," he stated simply.

"We grew up together. Thought I was gonna marry him for a bit," you whispered.

"You did what needed to be done," was he trying to reassure you?

"Doesn't make it any less painful," you whispered.

"I faced something similar. Had to end two of my teammates. Their brains had been corrupted. They had changed," he began telling his story.

"Did you ever forgive yourself?" you asked.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly.

"Well, I have no regrets," you stated.

"Really?" he asked.

"I'll never forgive myself for killing him. But I'll never regret it," You stated standing up and finishing your drink.

"Whys that?" he asked.

"Because no one messes with my boys and gets away with it," you stated with a cheeky smile patting his should.

"Thats for trying to reassure me. Ya big softy," you smiled brightly.

"I'm not soft," he grunted.

"Yaha of course you're not," You cooed in a baby voice.

"I will end you," he threated making you laugh.

That night you and Ghost would drink till the early hours of the morning, simply talking.

"We should get to bed Ghost," you stated standing upon your wobbly legs.

"It's Simon," you head snapped around to him.

"What?" you asked.

"My name. Its Simon. You can call me that if you like. But not in front of anyone that's not the team," he said.

"Well Simon. Its officially nice to meet you. My names Y/N," you said holding you hand out for him to shake. He shook took you hand covering it completely from view.

"Big ass hand mother fucker," you grumbled drunkenly before trotting off. Simon following after you making sure you didn't run into anything.

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--COD Master List Here--

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#141 x reader #141 x you #cod ghost #cod 141 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #tf 141 #task force 141 #simon riley x reader #mw fics #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #ghost mw2 #cod

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angelatsumu · 16 days

Text

secrecy. [j. price]

in which captain price denies his love for you publicly, and that doesn't go over well.

cw: angst (a tiny bit...like it's a little hurtful), SMUT, minors kick rocks DNI, price called daddy but is very switch/sub here, knife play, afab!reader, sorta toxic behavior (don't deny your spouse for a bit of approval with your friends bro), blood play a tiny bit, riding, overstimulation, not proofread

“there’s simply nothing worth settling down for lads. end of discussion.” your teeth met the inside of your cheek to stave off the grimace that fought to surface. your lover, the man you called your husband, had the audacity to allow such foolishly indignant words slip from his liquor laced tongue. the gall of the man who’d insisted you make him the happiest man on earth, the one who’d spent hours practicing his speech in the mirror, was something you’d found quite unexpected. to allow such insanity slip from those precious lips you kissed every morning was far more than an insult to your heart; it broke your pride. you’d pridefully and proudly called yourself the captain’s wife, head held higher than it had been before the silly ring on your finger. it was one thing to keep your marriage a secret—that you two had agreed upon—but to admonish your place in his heart? that was unmistakably cruel. your eyes met your lover’s as the men seemed to light-up at his words, applauding him for his dedication to the taskforce and military business. the display only made you want to revolt even more.

the drive home was quiet. normally you’d pretend to be a bit too drunk so that price could pretend to chivalrously take you to your apartment, but tonight you felt no need for such a foolish charade. there was simply no scent for your fellow task force members to follow because john had snuffed out that flame with his foolish banter. you sat bitterly brewing in your misery, flames of wicked jealousy licking at your heels with each passing moment. john could feel it radiating from you, the air too thick for him to swallow as he pridefully refused to concede and beg for forgiveness. the sheer thought of your husband standing by his bravado-littered statements covered you in a figurative sheen of vengeance. you were desperate for the opportunity to right him, to make him eat every little word he’d muttered. you had half the mind roll out of the moving car right this moment, but you decided against such reckless antics. instead, you’d decided to kickstart his own descent into delirium. there was nothing more tantalizing to your husband than making love to you, and perhaps that is where your edge lied.

the sight below you was gloriously sinful. your lover with flushed cheeks and tear-speckled eyes, precious blade of your combat knife nestled just beneath his jaw. your hand could slip and it would bring scarlet red droplets to the surface, giving him a closer shave than he’d bargained for. he knew this, and the thought made his cock stir inside your velvety walls. with each teasing roll of your hips a whimper fled john’s lips, soft pleas for your mercy. his eyes glistened at you as though you hung the stars, just as they were designed to. pressing the knife’s blade ever-so-lightly, you lifted your hips high enough that only the tip remained encased in your plush cunt. the action causes your husband’s brows to knit together as you hover there with the cruelest scowl you can manage. “please, love. ‘m sorry, daddy’s sorry,” he all but whimpers, hips stirring before halting at the feel liquid running down the side of his neck. you scoff at him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer to the object of your affection. your lips hover above his, breath fanning over his skin. “yeah? daddy’s sorry, hm?” he nods eagerly, knicking himself again in dumb desire to please you. you dip your head into the crook of his neck, deft tongue licking a stripe along the path of the stray droplet of blood. the action of ownership leaves your husband dizzy as an uncontrolled whimper leaves his lips. you hum, wicked grin pulling at your lips as you plop yourself down onto him. the fat of your ass claps against his thighs, and your head falls back at the feeling of being so full. you groan, rolling your hips forward just enough to catch your clit on the ridge of his pelvis. john’s hands instinctively move to clutch your hips, and you tut at him amusedly.

your cunt was driving john to insanity, and you weren’t too far behind him. the pace you’d set was increasingly tiring, but your abdomen continued to be set aflame with carnal desire. the clap of your ass against your husband’s lap resounded through the room as you fucked yourself—and him—stupid on his girthy length. orgasm after orgasm had rushed over the two of you, yet your desire for more never wavered. your grip on your beloved knife had since loosened enough that there was no true threat, though the thrill remained. your husband was beautifully fucked beneath you, lip quivering as his eyes struggled to stay open. your tight heat felt torturous, the sensation of your walls griping him like a vice bringing him to tears. your eyes intently glared down at your man, as much as you could while being fucked open. “can’t take anymore, love,” your husband whimpers, hands gripping your hips harshly as he weakly attempted to slow your movements. you huffed at him, hand moving to grip his jaw and force his gaze to yours. your gaze made his cock stir inside your plushy cunt. “you can take it,” you spat at him, squeezing his jaw at the hinges to force his mouth open. without thought you spat into your lover’s mouth, riding him with more tenacity as you felt your high approaching. “oh fuck,” he whined, head falling back from your gasp as you milked him for his last orgasm of the night. “you look at me when I fucking cum, and you remember who you settled down with, john,” you scold him, tugging on his dog tags to force him to meet your view again. the sight before you was picture worthy, pitiful fucked out captain gazing at you like you hung the stars in the sky; to him, you did. your orgasm swept you in a vicious wave of euphoria, thighs trembling as you moaned softly over your lover. the cant of your hips slows as you ride out your high, sweat-coated body leaning to press flush against his. john sighs, arms wrapping around you as he babbles apologies into your chest and neck. “never mean’ it, never say it again” he babbles softly, and you’re certain some of his brain oozed out from his ears with how thoroughly you’ve fucked him. with a sigh you untangle yourself from him, peering softly into his beautiful eyes before leaning to pepper kisses along his face. “i love you, John. thank you for letting me have this,” you hum softly. truly he could’ve called off the whole encounter, but he allowed you this relief. oh, what a lover you have.

likes + coments + rbs always appreciated <3 thx

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a66-1 · 7 days

Note

yo what about grumpy simon meets somehow grumpier reader !! maybe at a pub with the lads and she’s with her girls!! just two intimidating idiots <3

Yes!! this is so me as a human lmao..

Grumpy!Simon x Grumpy!Reader

a/n: yay!! second ask!! sorry it took so long, writers block and finals are kicking my ass rn.

You take a seat at the crowded pub, grumbling into a glass of wine. You've downed two drinks in, what, a couple minutes? Christ, how you're friends have more self control than you blows your mind.

Your friends sit around you, sipping from an assortment of drinks, laughing and talking about. Being the quiet friend definitely has its perks when your friend group is chatty, you get all the tea.

Danny's boyfriend cheated. Again.

Lauren's family is arguing two months too early already for the holidays.

Kadence's dogs are being the death of her and her small apartment.

You were never one to drop how you feel to your whole friend group, or even share more than what happened a couple hours ago. I mean, that's already too much information.

A natural grump. The grinch, Lauren called you. I mean come on, not to be one of those guys, but, your smile is so pretty!

You stand to excuse yourself, to grab another drink. I mean, technically, you should be getting water, but another bourbon sounds real fucking nice..

"Hey can I get..." You trail off when you notice a tall man come up next to you, and order exactly what you were ordering. Rude.

"Bourbon. On the rocks." The guy muttered, throwing down cash to pay for the drink. I rolled my eyes and glanced to the bartender.

"Bourbon too, please. On the rocks." You gave the guy a snide look, and sat down to wait for your drink. The guy cranes his neck up to watch whatever football game was going on, enamored with a bunch of men getting handsy on a flagged play.

"You could've been nicer and waited your turn, asshat." You grumbled, sorta for yourself, and a little for him. He chuckled, turning.

"Me? An asshat? Okay, Ms. I'm-Nice-To-Everyone, get some balls." He shrugged you off, and kept his eyes glued to the TV.

"I didn't say- Jesus, you're a fucking grump." You scoff, before realizing you sound just like Lauren right now.. The guy huffs, and turns to you, and lowers his head to be level with yours.

"I'm the grump? You're the one groveling over a little shove." He rolled his eyes. You mutter under your breath and move a seat away, waiting for your drink with a hand under your chin. You grab you drink when it came, and you moved back to your table.

"Lauren?" You mumble, sipping your drink. She curiously turns to you.

"Yeah?"

"Am I an asshole?" You ask, shoulders slumping.

Lauren stifles a laugh, and nods slightly. "When you're in one of your moods, yeah. Why?"

You groan, rubbing your eyes. "I think I met my match.."

anndddd yeah. a little dabble. inspo has been down. Please request more!

thanks babes...

-a661

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon fluff #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost #ghost cod #ghost x y/n

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the-californicationist · 1 month

Text

Four Winds

AO3 was down and I panicked.

NSFW MDNI

"Fuck, Johnny. Your tight hole feels so bloody good. Takin' me so well. Good boy," Price groaned, slipping his rod into his sergeant's hole in quick, pounding thrusts, encouraging him as he straddled the captain's hips, his nose buried in his lieutenant's dense pubic hair, "Suck Riley's cock like that. Just like that."

Gaz was fucking Simon, and every time he thrust forward, Ghost's cock would slip deeper into the Scot's throat.

"You like watchin' Si getting fucked by Gaz's huge rod, don't you, Johnny? Yeah? You want me to fuck you like that, boy?" Price grunted as he pulled Johnny's hips down onto his shaft, spearing him over and over from below.

Johnny whimpered, his cries quieted by Ghost's fat dick, choking him with every throbbing pulse.

As Johnny rode Price's cock, the captain pressed him forward, bending him away, forcing him to show how his stretched hole was taking him. Then, just to make him whine again, Price fit his thumbs in on either side of his cock, pushing Soap past the point of his girth, making him feel so damn full.

Suddenly, as if spurred on by Johnny's muffled high-pitched screams of pleasure, Simon gripped him by his mohawk and held his mouth down on him, burying himself deeper, making his lover writhe for air. Price could feel his asshole clenching against him as he choked, struggling for a breath, whining and pleading for mercy.

Then, Price knew the lieutenant must have been filling the Scot's belly with warm come because Johnny stopped fighting, and his eyes gleamed with shining tears as he looked up at his tall, blond lover, swallowing his orgasm with each and every writhing squeeze.

Price didn't know how much more he could take. Gaz's thrusting rhythm was making Ghost rock forward, forcing Johnny to suck him down his throat, pressing him down onto Price's length deeper and deeper. It was heaven. He wanted to pump his pretty little Scottish sergeant so full it would be dripping out of him all night. He wanted to taste his gaping hole.

"Oh, fuck, Ghost! I'm gonna fuckin' blow," Gaz confessed, grabbing Simon by the neck and forcing his head to bend forward, hunching him over, giving his lengthy cock more access to his warm hole.

"Do it. Come in me, Garrick. Right fuckin' now," his lieutenant commanded, his eyes rolling white from the forcefulness of his sex.

Johnny fell back away from Simon's cock, drool shining on his lips, laying his back on Price's chest languidly, rubbing his own nipples and pinching them cruelly.

After coming all over his spread hole, Gaz knelt down beside Ghost, and they both began to lick Johnny's bouncing shaft, making him cry out in bright, loud shouts.

"Fuck! Oh, fuckin' hell. Dinnae stop, lads. Please! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph… Yer… yer gonna make me come. Oh, my God. Oh --"

Price watched as Johnny's cock bobbed up and down, flagging wildly from how the captain was fucking him, spraying his creamy, thick load all over his belly. Gaz and Ghost started licking it off of him. Price called down,

"Oi, Gaz. Give us a taste, yeah?"

Garrick did as he was told, swiping his hand up and down Soap's softening dick, collecting his liquid joy and brought it to his captain's mouth, letting him lap up the Scot's come from his wide palm.

"Cap'n… please," Johnny whispered, turning his head towards Price, "I wanna feel it… I wanna feel yer come in me, sir. Please…"

"Alright, mate," Price gripped Johnny around his throat and jaw, his big hand covering his mouth, "I'd say you've bloody well earned it."

Filling Soap with his dripping seed was so sweet. The sergeant took it so well, like he was made for it. And the noises that came from Price's throat were otherworldly. He was blinded by his pleasure, and he had never come so hard in his whole life. Everything was wet, and he wanted to drown in it.

After he was finished pulsing, Price shuddered as he slid out of Johnny's limp body, and his men joined him in a twisted, panting, cuddled pile of limbs and torsos, kissing and licking whatever skin they could find.

They could deal with the mess in the morning.

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #captain john price #cod mwii #john price #cod #captain price #call of duty #poly tf141 #tf 141 #tf141 smut

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year

Text

when the trains a-rocking don’t come a-knocking

PARING: Tangerine x Fem!Reader (assassins)

WC: 2818

SUMMARY: taking a job in Japan collecting a briefcase from a train sounds easy, right? But not when you meet a pair of brother assassins from your past.

readers alias name is ‘slater’, but not crucial to the story and only mentioned once

TAGS/WARNINGS: 18+ only. tan and reader physically fight, mentions of blood, fingering, semi public stuff. minors DNI. no mentions of ‘y/n’

rewritten 25/04/24 - no change to the plot, just made it less crap and got rid of the sex (sorry)

You stand at the edge of the train station platform, mentally reassuring yourself. "Silver briefcase... silver briefcase. In, out, easy," you mutter quietly, not wanting to catch the attention of the other patrons around you.

This was your first mission since your injury a while back - an accident so bad, that it almost made you want to quit for good. This job was labelled as an easy assignment, and you only hoped it would stay that way.

The overhead speaker announces the bullet train's arrival and you give yourself a final prep talk before heading towards the approaching vessel. You get on and immediately get to work, wanting to find the case before Tokyo station --the one in two stops-- so you make quick haste searching.

You visibly filter through the bags in the luggage area, looking for a silver case with a blue sticker on the handle, should be easy enough, you thought. But you have no luck, so you head into the next carriage and then the next, until you find it tucked away at the back - the blue sticker acting like a bright, flashing, LED arrow.

You check your surroundings before sneaking it into your travel bag, readjusting the clothes to cover the shiny case - trying to hide it further by placing underwear and sanitary products over the top, hoping that if someone were to look inside, they'd be too embarrassed and leave you be.

By the time you had finished stashing the case, the train had stopped at the next station, and with more passengers entering, you blend in and grab a seat in the quiet car - not bringing any attention to yourself while you wait for your stop. You find an empty table seat and head right for it, hiding the bag on the floor between your feet, using the table as a shield.

You visually survey the area, eyes darting around to see a group of three sitting at the table next to you. You silently scold yourself and adjust the hood of your jacket, trying to hide yourself. You would have changed seats, but again you didn't want to bring attention to yourself, and standing would give you exactly what you didn't want.

The men beside you were pretty loud despite the rules of the quiet car, and because of their loud, albeit obnoxious voices, you began to think - your mind picking up on the familiarity of them. So you use your window as a mirror, using the glass to see the faces of the men.

And that's when you see them. Two extremely recognisable faces. Typical.

You roll your neck to get a better view of the group, confirming your theory when you see Lemon and Tangerine sitting beside some young lad. You and The Twins go way back, often fulfilling many assignments on the opposing side of them, and despite the contrasting teams, you'd usually remain civil with them.

They had cost you a few jobs, in the same way you would them, and over the years of just missing one another, you'd like to think there was a sense of loyalty between you and them.

Eavesdropping on them almost proved to be pointless until you heard the word 'briefcase' pop up and that's when you connect the dots. The twins had to be the owners of the case, right? Why else would they be in Japan? They're not the vacation type. And the thought of having to go up against them again began to knock the little confidence you had.

You keep your attention on them, sporadically eyeing them when you see Lemon stand, heading through the doors - presumably to the luggage area. And then your mind started to race.

You thought back on the story you overheard Tangerine tell, the one about The White Death, and that's when the angel and devil appeared on your shoulders. The debate of morals stepping in. You've always been on the opposite side as them but you were never against them - you liked them.

An argument arose in your brain: one part saying that you found the case fair and square and that you should keep it. The other part saying that your selfishness could get them killed, and in the graphic, brutal ways described in the story.

Tangerine stood up to take a call, his voice momentarily putting a hold on the internal conflict in your brain. He was so close that you could hear the demanding voice on the receiver, but then it goes quiet - Tan walking away to meet his brother by the luggage.

They both return promptly after to discuss something in the middle of the walkway, the brothers talking about the direction each of them should take in order to find the lost case.

It was your 'chance to escape,' you thought.

Tangerine strides past muttering curses under his breath, accidentally brushing your shoulder in the process. "Sorry, love. Didn't mean to hit ya," he nods courteously, brows pulling together for a brief moment. "Don't suppose you've seen a silver case? Can't seem to find it."

You shake your head and turn in to face the window, pulling up the sides of your hood to hide.

Instead, his head follows your movement, obviously picking up on something. "You," he states, an almost irritated crease forming above his brows.

You shake your head again, trying to avoid his gaze, but it fails.

"Slater?" he questions shortly - his tone knowing.

"No, sorry," you lie, twisting to look out the window again, trying to cut the conversation short.

"Not amused," he scoffs, crossing his arms. "You got my case. I'm gonna need it back."

"What case?"

"Give me my case," he repeats, resting his hands on the table, leaning in to appear more threatening. It's an empty threat, he won't hurt you.

"I uh--" you stall, shrugging your shoulders. "I'm at a loss. I think you have me confused. Are you okay?" you ask, adjusting the bag between your feet - clutching them on either side of the bag and picking it up so you can grab it easier.

His tone sharpens and his eyes narrow. "I ain't messing around. Give me fuckin' case. I won't ask again."

You reach for the handles under the table and grab them with one hand while you use your other to overpower him - slamming your elbow down onto his hands. You kick the insides of his knees to buckle his balance and run away, bag in hand as you rush down the aisle for the door.

But your headstart only lasts so long before you fall flat to the floor, his foot tripping you over. You hastily crawl back up, but he does it again, this time, his weight jumping on you from behind, sending you both to the ground.

"Give me back my fuckin' case," he grunts, holding you down - his weight anchoring you.

"You said you weren't going to ask again," you retaliate, trying to free from his grasp, pulling yourself along the floor.

"Piss off," he snarks, adjusting his hold to roll you over. "Where is it?" he asks, voice quiet, face mere inches from yours.

"I don't know," you breathe out, eyes flicking over his face. "I haven't seen it," you lie.

You attempt to free one of your arms, hustling it between your bodies to get a hit in, but he catches your arm, holding it tight. So you try with one of your legs, bending it to hit him in the thigh, but again, he blocks it - using his body to counteract your attempts.

So instead, you use your head --literally-- hitting your forehead into his nose to free yourself, hearing a slight crack at the contact. You push him off you and rush to your feet, picking up your bag as you head to the door - pounding on the open button.

You begin to panic at the delay, and before you know it Tangerine is behind you, nose dripping blood.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," you ramble, continuing to hit the button. "I'm sorry."

His stare is chilling as he cocks his head to the side - his stance almost scary. And then he takes a step forward, closing the distance.

"I'm sorry," you try again.

"Whatever."

The door finally opens and you stumble through, falling backwards and onto the floor once again. You squirm, scuffling backwards when he stalks towards you - his height now far more intimidating.

"Where is it?" he repeats, his voice far more composed but still chilling.

"In the toilets," you lie. "I stashed it in a vent. I'll show you."

You know there is no way to physically beat him, so you try your luck at tricking him - thinking you can deceive him instead. And it works. He extends a hand for you to take and helps you back up.

He holds a firm grip around your arm as you lead him through the next carriage and towards the toilets, both of you stopping once you reach the door. You open it and point to the vent, steering clear of the door as you let him enter the space.

"Attagirl," he nods, tapping the side of your face as he walks past.

He stands on the toilet seat lid as he undoes the screws - trying to get into the vent. And while his back is to you and his attention is off you, you duck back, grabbing your bag as you head through the carriage you came - heading for the next W/C.

You think you've got away scot-free, but then you hear him chase after you from behind, his footsteps getting closer. You make it to the toilets and lock yourself inside, barricading the door with your body - bag held to your chest as you catch your breath.

He pounds on the flimsy door, fists balled heavy and angry.

"Occupied."

"You dirty fuckin' liar," he scolds, continuing to hit at the door.

The banging suddenly stops and then you hear the sound of jingling, and your heartbeat in your ears. Unbeknownst to you, he was jimmying the lock with his necklace.

He lets the door swing open and he steps inside, tutting at you as he joins you inside the small space.

He locks the door behind himself. "That was stupid," he taunts, walking you backwards and into the wall behind. He holds your face with his single hand, fingers digging into your cheeks, eyes darting over your face in the same way yours are. "You relentless little bitch."

Your breathing grows heavy, the pounding in your chest almost bursting in your ears. You were so close to each other.

He picks up on your silent signal --those repeated glances down to his mouth-- and then he leans in, meeting your lips hard and heavy. The kiss grows raunchy quickly: tongues brushing over one another's, moans muffled between, each of you becoming handsy - all of your prior feelings finally being released and poured into something physical.

He deepens the kiss, using his hands either side of your face to control the movements - his cock chubbing up against you as he pushes further into the wall.

You reach for his hair and slide your fingers into his curls, keeping him close as you continue to make out, hushing whines into his mouth. And with your other hand, you reach between your bodies - fingers heading for the buckle on his trousers.

He breaks the kiss and shakes his head. "No time for that," he mutters, his voice hoarse. "Another time."

He leans back in, kissing you with that same fervour as he slips his hand between you like you did a moment before, fingers reaching for the zip on your jeans. He snakes into the front, his palm gliding under your underwear and over your pubic bone - fingers itching down towards your clit.

"Another time," he muffles against the corner of your mouth - trailing kisses across your cheek and along your jaw. "Promise."

With his hand down your underwear, finger toying at your clit, he uses his other to help you out of your jeans - the shimmying you were doing proved to not be enough. You pull one leg out and rest your foot on the toilet lid, opening more of yourself for him and allowing more access.

He presses his lips back to yours, his hips winding into you, his clothed-cock knocking up against the insides of your thighs. The sheer weight and shape of it nearly knocked the air out of your lungs, and all you could do is make a noise - a small, muffled, blissed sound against his lips.

He hums approvingly at your noise, his own vibrating on your tongue. His free hand cups the side of your face, keeping your lips connected as his occupied hand continues his teasing - the pads of his two middle fingers dancing over your clit.

The kiss grows messy as he starts to circle your entrance, his fingers beginning to ease their way inside. He swallows your wavering moans as he fills you.

"I know it's not my dick, but it'll have to do for now," he murmurs, hooking his fingers inside - knuckles bending. "When this is all done. I'll take you out, yeah?" he starts, his voice breathy as he pulls away to look you in the eye. "Get you dressed all nice, wine, fancy restaurant, hm? I'll drive you, look after you all night-- take good care of you. And then when I take you home," he pauses to kiss you. "You'll invite me in, I say no because I'm a gentleman--"

"You're not," you add, brows knitting and eyes softening when you feel him hit that spot repeatedly.

"I am," he nods, thumbing over your cheek. "So I say no, but you pull me in anyway. We talk, we make out. You're all over me and you want me so bad-- always reaching for my dick, teasing me with those tits of yours. Giving me those 'fuck-me eyes' you always give."

"Not true," you smile faintly, shaking your head. "And if anything, you're all over me."

"Not true," he repeats, pressing a string of kisses into your lips.

"And then what happens?" you ask, intrigued by the hypothetical promise.

"I dunno, we've never made it that far," he teases.

You bring your hand to your face and lick the pad of your thumb, guiding it towards Tan. You run it carefully around his nose and wipe away the flakes of dried crusty blood - cleaning him despite how much hotter it made him look.

His eyes remain half-lidded as he focuses on you, his features softening from your quick act of care. It was like those little glimpses he sometimes saw of you in the field. His fingers continue to pump into you, the grinding, fluid motion making it clear that he knew what he was doing.

"Will we ever make it that far?" you ask, swiping your thumb along his stache - eyes concentrated on his lips.

"Yeah, I think so," he hums.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You feel that pit tighten in your lower tummy, your breathing growing strained with every passing second and then it finally loosens, your climax rushing in hard and heavy til you're creaming all over his fingers. Your head drops back and your eyes screw closed, trying not to forget about being in public.

Once you come back down, only then do you notice the attentive look on Tangerine's face - his expression almost enamoured as he watches you. He eases himself from you and readjusts your underwear, stepping back to allow you a moment to sort yourself out and dress back up.

You bend and reach into your bag on the floor, sifting through to reach for the briefcase. "Think this belongs to you," you hold back a laugh, handing the case over.

He glares at you playfully, taking it by the handle. "Right," he nods, holding it loosely at his side.

You extend a hand for the door and turn back to face him. "You're not getting it back because of that, by the way," you clarify, gesturing to those lewd moments before. "I just don't really want you getting chopped up into a million little bits."

"You're too good to me," he teases. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

You nod, walking through the doorway. "Yeah."

----

#tangerine x reader #tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x you #tangerine smut

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lipglossanon · 10 months

Text

And Now For Something Completely Different

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The Merchant x fem!reader (one shot)

Such a random thought I had and quickly wrote out while I made coffee lmao so have this total and complete one off from my normal 🫣 please don’t expect more from me 🤣 also have a screenshot I took cause I thought he looked cute 😉

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, unprotected sex, creampie, slight dirty talk? 😆

not proofread or even looked over lmao ✌️

Title pulled from Monty Python 😜

part ii

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“I’ve got something that might interest ya,” the strange man murmurs as you step up to the rickety table.

The purple flame‘s the only light source in the area casting strange shadows on the walls and across the man calling himself the merchant.

You pull out the few rubies you were able to scrounge out of some old barrel and hold them out to him, “Is this enough to get an upgrade and a first aid spray?”

His dark eyes look down at your palm and back up to your face, “Well no stranga, I can do one or the other, but I’m afraid it’s not enough cash for both.”

You slump in on yourself, exhaustion writ all over your features as you sigh, “I’ll take the first aid then.”

He hands you the aerosol can with one hand as you drop the rubies in his other.

“Thank you,” you smile at him, genuine and warm, “next time hopefully I can swing that handgun upgrade.”

He hums at you, watching underneath the hood as you pocket the first aid and double check your pockets to see if there’s anything else worth trading.

“I wonder if you might be interested in less acceptable means of trade?”

You attention moves from your pockets up to him leaning against the table, shadow looming into your space.

“Sure, I need all the help I can get.”

⊰❀⊱

“Oh oh my god,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as his cock bullies its way into your fluttering walls.

He has you pinned down, back on the table he set up, and legs parted as he fucks into your wet and willing pussy.

“What a lovely cunt,” he chuckles down at you, face still covered making you clamp down harder on his dick, “haven’t felt something this warm in a long time, stranger.”

“Mmm it s’good,” you whine, letting him push your knees up to your chest so he can plunge his cock in your pussy even deeper, “gonna make me cum so fast.”

“It’d be such a shame to end our fun so soon, love,” he groans, slowly rutting his fat cock into your clenching pussy and grinding against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt.

Your eyes flutter shut and he smacks your swollen clit with his hand making you writhe under him.

“W-what’re you—“ a keening mewl leaves your lips as he slaps your pudgy clit again.

“Behave, let me take my fill and I’ll give you what you need,” he laughs, “not a bad deal eh?”

You shake your head no as you gasp and moan. He rocks himself in and out of your pussy, never fully pulling out so you’re constantly stretched around his thick cock. The tip knocks against your cervix every time he bottoms out making you claw at his chest weakly, powerless as a kitten, too overwhelmed with pleasure to do anything but take it.

“Bigger is better or so they say. At least I thought so as a lad,” he huffs with a laugh, burying himself so deep that his tip is grinding against your womb making you wail and thrash under his heavy body.

“Shh, shh, you must take it, love,” he grits out, holding you down as he bruises your cervix, “let me give you what you need.”

“I-I need your mouth,” you gasp out, eyes wet with tears, “kiss me, please, sir, I—“

He yanks his mask down but before you get a good look a wet hungry mouth is kissing your greedily. One of his hands comes up to cover your eyes once he pulls back to catch his breath.

“Such a sweet little thing,” he noses at your cheek and you can feel the grin on his mouth, “calling me sir like I’m some posh gent.”

He licks across your jaw and his tongue feels—odd, tapered but before you can process anything else he’s licking into your mouth again.

You whine and suck on his tongue eagerly, rocking your hips down into his slow, punishing thrusts. You whimper when he pulls away and only quiet when he kisses you again, pressing his tongue deep into your mouth making you moan.

You can feel how different his tongue is compared to yours and it makes your pussy gush slick around his thrusting cock.

He pulls away with a hum of amusement, “You sure do enjoy that. Like my tongue, stranger? Like imagining it in other hot wet little holes?”

Your spine arches as you cry out, “O-oh god.”

He finally uncovers your eyes but his mask is back firmly in place. You look into his eyes and see the corners are crinkled as he laughs at you.

“Sorry to disappoint,” his hands shift down to your hips to pull you tighter to him, “but I’m pretty close to filling your lovely little cunt full.”

“Please,” you whine, hands scratching at the rough material of his cloak, “want it, please cum inside me.”

“Hell,” he groans, hips rabbiting into your squelching cunt making the table slide with his movements.

“Touch yourself,” he directs you, “play with that slippery clit for me, love.”

You quickly listen to him, fingers moving to circle the swollen bud until your thighs are tensing and toes curling as the band of arousal snaps in your belly.

“Fuck, I’m cumming oh—“ your back bows as you moan loudly, pussy milking his cock as he keeps fucking into your clenching walls.

“That’s it,” he grunts, snapping his hips even harder against you until he burrows himself deep in your pussy.

You feel the warmth of his hot cum paint your walls white as his dick fills you with rope after rope of sticky jizz. He yanks you even closer somehow as his cock kicks and throbs against your pulsing walls, tip spurting the last of his cum inside of you. You watch as he slowly pulls out, creamy slick and cum oozing from his drippy tip as it spills from your well used hole.

“I’d say that’s a deal well struck,” his eyes seem to gleam down at you as he helps you up to redress.

His cum is still oozing inside the gusset of your panties as you watch him quickly tinker with your handgun before giving you back your now upgraded weapon.

He winks at you, “See you soon, stranger.”

#lipglossanon #the merchant #the merchant x fem!reader #merchant x fem!reader #the merchant x fem!reader smut #merchant x fem!reader smut #the merchant smut #re4 remake #the merchant re4 remake #lipglossmasterlist

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Text

✰ 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 - 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 ‘𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓’ 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

↳ summary: prompt: “You make me so wet." — A night at the pub with the 141 lads leads to a mortifying misunderstanding.

↳ pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader (Delta)

↳ [1k] content: 18+ MDNI. Alcohol, drunkenness, Soap being a loveable dick, Simon ‘eyefucking’ you, sexual tension 4 days, masturbation (f), exhibitionism, light dirty talk.

ghost masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

The apples of your cheeks buzz, pins and needles crinkling the warm skin there. Your tongue feels numb and dry in your mouth like somebody layered cotton wool over your tastebuds. You wish you could blame your impotence entirely on the alcohol, but Ghost's hazel eyes stick firmly to your face, and you melt beneath their intense gaze.

A knowing chuckle sounds to your left, a solid shoulder nudging your own to wrench your attention away from the Mancunian skull face that filled your vision.

"Yer pished, aren't you, love?" Soap smirks, snapping you from your haze. Your meek smile does little to dull his laughter as he stands from the chair, the wooden legs scraping on the tiled floor of the pub. "I'm turnin' your tap off before yer absolutely rat-arsed."

"You're no fun, Johnny," you whine after him, but he waves his index finger in your face-- you can't even follow it with your eyes.

"Don't you start with yer 'Johnny' bullshit. It ain't gonna work on me!"

Scowling, you watch after him as he approaches the bar, Gaz in tow as he shoots you a playful smirk. The cheeky bastard has the nerve to mouth 'sorry'.

Resigning to a glass of water, you settle back in your seat and cross your arms over your chest in indignation. 141 always watched your six, even if that meant them being a little too overprotective of you. You pout your lips in frustration, gazing at the alcohol-glazed oak tabletop before flicking your gaze to Simon from under your lashes.

You're startled, jolting in your seat. Simon's hazel eyes gaze at you shamelessly, unmoving as they focus on your face. Heat prickles at your cheeks when he fails to remove them once you've caught him staring, unabashed in his observation of your features.

The throbbing sensation of your pulse in your cunt slams back into the forefront of your mind. It simmers deep in your abdomen, coiling and swirling so adamantly that you're desperate for friction. You feel yourself clench at the intensity of Ghost's stare, swallowing back the need that creeps up your throat in the form of a whine.

Blinking slowly, you can barely help yourself as the alcohol grips your logical mind. You can hear the raucous laughter of Soap and Gaz as they banter with the barman, no doubt attempting to tease their way into some free drinks, but they're mostly drowned out by the thudding of your heart echoing in the shells of your ears.

Tension builds between your thighs, and your stomach flips when he takes a deep breath in, his chest expanding with the oxygen in his lungs. Before you're even thinking about how lewd it is, your hips rock forward on the oak chair seat, chasing just enough friction to ease the intensity of your arousal. It doesn't work-- if anything, it makes it worse, and Simon continues to observe your struggle with indifferent eyes.

'Ghost'. You mouth his name, lips struggling to make the right shapes as your jaw goes slack. The burning arousal between your thighs surges as you roll your hips just right, clit catching on the seam of your cargoes.

You're getting antsy under his stare, gripping the tabletop with a white knuckle hold as you attempt to chase the arcing pleasure that curls around the base of your spine. You don't even care about the bars' other patrons, couldn't care less about the return of Gaz and Soap; they could tease you all you like- you need this. Working yourself up, you shove your free hand between your thighs, rocking your clit up against your wrist.

"Fuck," you pant weakly, the singular vowel catching in your throat, "You make me so wet."

"Mhm?" Ghost's eyes flicker slightly to the left- to your face. Your hips stall under his true gaze, and your heart plummets to the pit of your stomach once you realise... He'd been looking over your shoulder at your teammates at the bar the whole time.

"Oh-" you choke out, embarrassment churning in your stomach and rising up your throat like bile, "N-Nothing, I'm so fucking stupid--"

"You heard me. Repeat yourself," Ghost's gruff voice rumbles in his chest. He's in no mood for games, his heavy-lidded eyes wholly settled on your face as he attempts to pry the information out of you.

"N-Noth-"

"Don't make me pull rank on you, Delta." Ghost speak. Directly, that translates to Don't fuck me around.

You swallow thickly, letting your eyelids slip closed as you try to urge the words from your lips. It takes a second, every atom in your body screaming not to tell Simon. Don't tell him, don't- "Y-You make me so wet..."

"S'What I thought you said," he rumbles, those amber irises swallowed by the blackness of his pupils as he glances down to your wrist, observing how it stays firmly pressed against your core.

"I'm sorry-" you whimper, but Ghost just cants his head slightly in a vague shake. His chest heaves with a heavier breath pattern, and the overhead lights cast shadows on his ski mask, revealing that he's parted his lips as he watches you.

"You're not. You're sorry you got caught, love," Ghost points out, but his tone has no accusatory edge. Instead, he's enjoying you like this, hot-faced and shy. You nod feebly and nearly jolt out of your seat when a pint glass of tap water crashes against the tabletop.

"Ye look scared. Did Simon show ye his face?" Soap smirks, settling down in his seat beside you. He's got a glass of scotch in his hand, and if you weren't inebriated and horny as fuck you might have been able to string together a stupid joke, like one you'd hear Soap say over the coms.

"N-No," you mumble weakly, eyes glued to the countertop. Gaz's eyebrow raises, seeing your obvious discomfort.

"What did you do to her, L.t.?"

"Didn't do anything," the gruff Mancunian accent crawls up your arms, running a chill down your spine, "Just told her she'll be gettin' punished when we get back to base for getting hammered."

Something tells you that your sentence wont be 100 press-ups.

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