#but IF there is i need him to come back as the ship’s ghost fucking with everyone lmao
Note
Hi, I just found your blog, and I love your Simon's fics! I was wondering if i could please request something where Reader and Simon had broken up bc he thought he put her in danger. After a few months, he comes to her after a mission and they spend the night but he leaves before she wakes up thinking hes doing whats best (and all that angsty jazz 🥲🤭) . A few weeks after she finds out shes pregnant and decides to take on her own, as reader thinks simon wouldnt care. But maybe one of the guys see her heavy preggo and tell simon, and hes fuming and super protective mode is on.
Sorry if it is too specific and for the terrible english. I just have this idea, and i dont think i can picture it right. Anyway, thanks for reading this and for your good work on your fics 💗 hope you have a lovely day
—Digging Gaze
⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞
You knew it was the effects of a less-than-gentle breakup, but you should have at least cursed him out before you let him have his way with you on the living room couch. You’d woken up back in bed, alone, and had gotten dropped back to where you had been weeks earlier—stuck in the throws of confusion and hurt.
Simon had left you, and he never gave you a reason.
A part of you was heated; pissed off and feeling betrayed by the insult, yet, the rest of you knew that Simon needed to have his reasons—he always did. Even if you didn’t agree with them, and you knew he tended to look at life with a glass-half-empty type of glance.
So that left you here.
You were pregnant.
You’d found out two weeks after you’d slept together for that last time, your cheeks still hot from the memory and your fingers clutching the plastic of a test.
Pregnant.
It had been a shock, a deep panic. The both of you had been reckless. Stupid. And while you had stared at those two pink lines, you felt a sinking in your gut akin to a drowning ship. Should you tell him? It would be proper, of course.
But you don’t think you can face him again after you’d awaken to an empty bed—as if your entire relationship had only been about sex and not the deep nights of confessions and soft brushes of skin. You knew Simon Riley better than he probably knew himself.
And you wouldn’t put this on him.
At seven months, you couldn’t walk as much as you could before—and you would huff for breath as you went up the stairs to change the sheets—but who else could do it but you? Shopping also fell to you, and so, you pushed a large cart around and packed the metal basket with cravings and necessities. That was when you fell to a familiar face.
“Johnny?” You ask, blinking.
The Scot pauses, turning. His brows furrowed for a moment before a kind smile peeled his lips back.
“Hen!” He comes closer, laughing. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a good minute, then. What have you been up to in all—”
The man freezes at the sight of your stomach, jaw going slack as you fight an internal war with yourself to say pleasantries and leave.
“Hell,” Johnny clears his throat. “I guess you’ve been doin’ a great deal.”
You sigh, shaking your head softly. “Thanks, Johnny.”
“I’m just joking, Little Lady.” The man laughs and waves a hand. “Who’s the lucky man then? I’ll have to meet him one of these days.”
Your face blanks and your lips snap shut in an instant.
Blue eyes wait for an answer as the silence laps over itself. Slowly but surely, the realization dawns on his face in a tight pull of horror.
“You can’t tell him,” you interrupt his tight gasp. “Not a peep, MacTavish, you hear?”
“What the fuck,” he breathes at you, hand coming up to his mouth as he glances down at your swelling bump. “Holy hell.”
“Johnny,” you snap, his eyes jerk back to you.
“It’s bloody Ghost’s—”
“You can’t,” you growl, coming closer, “tell him.”
“What do you mean I can’t tell him,” Johnny hisses under his breath, looking at the people passing by and lowering his tone. “You’re pregnant and he doesn’t know!”
“That’s the point,” you ease out, exasperated and feeling drained already. Jesus, you needed to go lay down—your back was killing you. “Johnny,” you breathe, growing softer as you reach out a hand and put it to his arm. He grips it and holds on, looking incredibly concerned. “He doesn’t need to know, okay? That’s a lot of stress on him, and you know what he does for work. Even worrying about me was hard on him, what do you think a child would do?”
“You can’t think like that,” the Scot mutters. “He can help—what, you mean to tell me you plan to do this by yourself?” It isn’t malicious how he says it; Johnny’s worried about you. Incredibly. “Hen, no,” he shakes his head. “No, you can’t.”
“I can, Johnny,” you frown, dread filling your heart. “And I will.”
In the future, you really had to take into account Johnny’s flapping lips when under the spell of alcohol. Maybe you had enough faith in him to watch himself for the last little while of your pregnancy as he had into the latter half of the eighth month.
And then three firm knocks were at your door, and when you opened it, you were face to face with a painted balaclava and frazzled brown eyes.
Those eyes immediately snap down, and not even a word is uttered to your face until then.
The both of you are stone-still. Frozen. Dead to all else.
You swear it was hours of this—standing in the doorway with Simon’s fingers stiff in his pockets and his chest not even moving in a pulse or flare of his lungs. He doesn’t even blink.
“How far along?” His voice is monotone. A low drone in the ringing of your ears.
Damn that Scot.
“Eight and a half,” you say quietly.
Brown eyes shift up to yours. Simon stares, and you see his jaw clench under his balaclava, his shoulders moving. Again a long pause.
“When’s the next appointment—”
“It’s a girl.” You see his eyelids peel back and halt there, watching you. “In case you care to stick around and see her.”
Cruel perhaps, but it was nothing short of how he acted while leaving you.
Simon’s hidden face is slack, stuttering silently for a moment as the light fades outside.
“Didn’t…didn’t know,” he grunts out, blinking quickly.
“I know you didn’t,” you utter. “That was the point, Simon.”
“Johnny told me ‘bout it, didn’t believe him.” His brown eyes swirl, breaking. “Thought you’d mention it if you were.”
“You left,” you breathe. “Why would I reach out to someone that did that to me.”
“M’sorry, I-I don’t…” Simon clears his throat, looking away. His eyes are glossy, fingers moving out of his pockets so his twitching hands can splay out. “Could have explained, but I didn’t know how, Love. I’m not…this isn’t…”
Words fail him just like his ability to explain his emotions. Part of him was angry—angry that you’d gone all this time without reaching out when he could have helped.
A daughter.
But he was afraid, as well. Terrified. You were in the right and he knew it. Simon didn’t know the first thing about being a father…but then again, you didn’t know how to be a mother, either.
This was new territory.
“Marry me,” Simon pushes out with a quick force of breath.
“Wh—,” you choke on air. “What?”
“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Gloved hands move at his sides, eyes honest but still shiny. “Wasn’t thinking—my fault and I can’t go on if I don’t know you’re safe.” He licks at the corner of his mouth. “...Both of you. Thought leaving would make the best sense, but I was…fucking hell. M’sorry.”
“Simon, there are many more ways other than marriage.” Your anger wasn’t something that could be washed away that easily, even if your heart fluttered at the idea and his apology.
You had more self-respect than that.
“Let me fix this,” he whispers, leaning closer.
Your hand rests over your stomach, staying there as the minutes draw. Simon waits, nervous and his fingers tap on his thigh. You know he’s afraid. You know he’s nervous about what he could bring home from work, even if those are only his paranoia talking in his ear like a demon.
You frown.
You huff.
And you open the door wider.
“The sheets need changing in my room. Get on it.”
The man says nothing before he enters the house and slips off his boots; disappearing into the linen closet.
#tw sex mention#tw pregnancy#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty#cod mw22#x female reader#mw2#call of duty x you#mw2 2022#cod simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#cod simon riley#simon riley#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty x reader#ghost mw2#ghost cod#cod x female reader#x fem!reader#cod mw#cod mw2#cod ghost
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part 4. of toxic simon
a/n: got a few ideas from my requests on what to add for this part so thank you very much, ash loves you <3
cw: kidnapping, weapons, murder, angst, comfort, themes of smut
It had been a few weeks since simon had walked in on you and alex. since that night, there had been a dramatic shift in the price home. the once broody lieutenant was now just the pure embodiment of rage and misery.
he barely left the guest room for the whole of his leave. and when he did, he was causing problems. never in front of your father, however. he's not stupid. but he constantly felt the need to size up alex in front of you. looming over him with that fucking mask on, flexing his muscles.
alex never indulges in simon's desperate attempts to pull a viscous reaction from him. to make you see that your new man isn't that much nicer than him, darl'. so you might as well come back to what you know.
no, instead alex leads you out of the room. not without a soft mumble of 'let's go sugar. you don't need to be hearing this.' simon wonders if you've told alex about him. about how he smashed your heart into a million little pieces.
he's gotten low a couple of nights. resorting to snapping mirror picks in his tight black briefs after his shower. you there were no identifiers that it was ghost. no, only you knew it was simon.
he's a bastard. he knows he wont get a response from you. he will, however, get to listen to the hushed bickering coming from you and alex that night when he sees the photo.
alex got called away on duty after a big fight between the two of you. It was clear that you hadn't made up by the time he left, either. simon can tell by the way you moped around. barely speaking to anyone in the home. simon tried to speak to you, hoping to score back some points whilst things were rocky between you and your man. you just brushed him off, sulking back off to your room.
later that night when simon was laying in bed, his phone buzzed with a text from you.
'simon' was all it read
simon rolled his eyes, feeling like a kicked puppy after you ignored him, he decided to ignore your message. puts his phone down and rolls over to go to sleep, ignoring the constant buzzing of his phone from behind him.
simon was sure he got a few good hours of sleep before being violently woken up to a strong hand shaking his shoulder.
"simon. simon, get up." he recognises your father's panicked voice calling out to him. he's groggy for a few moments before your father says two words that hit him like a bucket of ice water,
"she's gone."
simon feels and ice cold chill run down his spine at your father's words.
"my daughter she's fucking gone. someone took my fucking daughter."
simon had to stop price from tearing the whole house up, grabbing his shoulders and promising him that they will find you.
simon and price are on base the very next morning. along with alex, gaz, and soap. everyone is deadly silent, standing tall and ready as their captain briefs them on how they're going to get you back. Alex has a tick in his jaw and simon is sure he's going to snap if anything goes wrong
10 minutes before they ship out and simon is having a cigarette, trying to ease his nerves. he hadn't even checked his phone yet and it only just clicked in his brain that you text him last night. those messages were still unopened on his phone. with a weight on his chest, simon unlocks his phone and feels his heart sink when he sees those texts,
'simon? is that you?'
'simon seriously I can hear noises downstairs'
'are you outside my door?'
'simon, please. i'm scared.'
you were calling him for help.
simon has been fighting down bile for the past 45 minutes. the helicopter ride certainly not helping ease the horrendous amount amount of guilt he's feeling. neither is watching alex bounce his leg nervously, or price chain smoke cigar after cigar.
it's a long trek from the drop-point to the abandoned warehouse where they suspect you're being kept. simon trudging through the mud behind everyone else, praying that no one says a word to him.
"if my intel is good, she's in that building there." alex says, pointing down to the building.
"this is a weapons free op, boys. shoot to kill. do what you need to do to get my girl back home safe." price commands out in his gruff voice, but you can hear a slight edge to his tone. a streak of nervousness that simon has never seen in his captain.
It's a clean sweep once they breach the entrance, bodies dropping in quick succession. room after room being swept and an anxious feeling hanging on everyone's shoulders each time they don't find you.
simon makes his way to the basement floor, taking out the hitmen guarding the heavy metal doors at the end of the dark hallway. he pushes the door open slowly, gun raised and ready to take out an immediate threats.
there were no threats in the room, simon quickly realised, just you. poor, terrified you huddled up in the corner with chains attached to your wrists and ankles. shaking violently like a feral cat. the fear in your eyes causes simon to immediately lower his gun and raise his hands in a 'I-mean-no-harm' way.
he takes a couple hesitant steps towards you, careful not to frighten you even more.
"hey..." he whispers, "it's just-"
"she's here!"
simon was cut off by the sound of alex alerting everyone to your safety. he immediately rushes past simon, knealing in front of you. the second you recognise him, you're reaching for him as sobs start to make their way from your throat.
"It's alright, baby. I'm here, I got you. You're safe now." alex coos to you as he scoops you into his arms, leaving simon to stand behind him like a ghost.
the sight of you reaching for alex instead of him makes simon feel as through someone is prying his rib cage open with a crowbar. he felt truly left in the dust. but he can't blame you, no. this was his fault.
he lost.
#mw2#ghost#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#captain john price#john price#toxic!simon#alex keller x reader#alex keller
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Just This Once
Kinktober Day 18: Squirting + Dacryphilia
Tags: Din Djarin x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it before you tap it irl), fingering (r!recieving), squirting, light dacryphilia, Din being feral but also emotionally stunted (w/c: 1.7K)
A/N: Guess who fell behind on Kinktober again, womp womp. I will not give up though!! I am determined to finish, so please enjoy this Din fic that I may or may not have gotten too invested in while writing it and stay tuned for some more filth coming (and cumming hahaha) soon!! (for Kinktober I have been using this list from flightlessangelwings!)
There’s something about the coldness of space, the loneliness of it, that makes you so desperate.
When the Crest is quiet, the baby asleep, all you can feel is the vastness of the universe around you, your body cold and needy for touch. And Maker, the Mandalorian notices immediately, the way you cross and uncross your legs in the seat behind him, curling your fingers into your thighs as the stars fly past the ship. You don’t mean to be obvious, but Din always notices.
He knows how to treat you when you get like this, all needy and desperate for his touch, even when you don’t want to admit it. Din is willing to admit that you are far more than just a friend to him, but you both narrowly avoid the strength of the feelings between you both, the bond that drags you together. But still, Din knows exactly what you need, and he has absolutely no problem giving it to you.
He has you splayed across his lap, your back pressed against his chestplate, your head lolling back onto his shoulder. He’d lost his gloves the moment you’d peeled off your pants, his hands the only skin he’ll allow himself to touch you with. It’s a wonderful loophole for you, but an exercise in torture for him. He wants to feel your back pressed against his bare chest, trace his lips down your neck. Wants to feel your heartbeat against his, quick and warm and alive.
This is the Way, he reminds himself, despite knowing, deep down, that he’s already broken something just by touching you without his gloves. But stars, how can he resist when your pretty, desperate little cunt pulses beneath his fingertips, begging for more, more, more.
He ghosts his fingers up the slick seam of your pussy, and has to hold back his own groan at the way you whine, pressing back against him as your hips twitch uncontrollably.
“Stars, you’re wet,” he grunts, pressing a thick finger into your entrance, already gaping with your need for something, anything to clutch onto. “Needed me this bad, cyar’ika?”
“‘M so- so empty, Din, fuck, it’s like,” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he starts fucking you with that one thick finger, feeling it drag across your walls. “It’s like I can’t fucking breathe without you touching me, Maker, I need it all the time, Din.”
And it’s true. When you’d first started traveling with Din and the baby, you’d barely even noticed the loneliness. You’d been lonely your whole life, eager to escape your desolate little planet and see the stars.
But then Din had done this for the first time, when tensions had run too high, when things had gone just a little too far.
“Just this once,” he’d muttered, “Can I touch you?” he’d asked, and you’d said yes without a thought.
He’d peeled off his glove, touching your face gently, so gently with those calloused fingers. He’d laid you out on his small mattress, pressing the front of his helmet to your forehead as he let his hand roam the expanse of your body, squeezing your skin over your clothes before brushing them over your clit through your pants. When you’d jerked up and moaned, he could only let out a shaky exhale through his visor as he rubbed tight circles into it, enraptured by the way you whimpered and squirmed beneath him.
“Just once,” he kept muttering, even as he worked one, two orgasms out of your body, “just once.”
Except it happened again. And again. And again.
And now you can barely sleep without wanting, needing Din to touch you. He hasn’t fucked you; there’s an unspoken rule that he’s broken enough of the Creed for you, telling you his name, touching you like he does. You don’t question it, not when you’re the one getting fucked on his fingers until you’re in tears, ravenous for his hands on your body.
It’s like it gets worse as time goes on, your need for him. Even now, pressed against his chest as his thick thighs spread you wide for his hands, it’s like the first time. You writhe against him as he works another finger into your hot cunt, your slick covering his hand. You hump forward into them without meaning to, and you turn your head to tuck it into his cowl as he works you over.
Din fucks his fingers furiously into you, using his other arm to brace across your hips, keeping you pinned to him. He’s practically growling as he pumps his hand between your legs, crooking his fingers up to press against the spot that makes you cry so beautiful for him. He keeps his fingers pressed deep for a moment, just grinding the tips of them into that spot relentlessly and relishing in the way you cry his name so prettily.
“Din, please- oh fuck! Stars, it’s too much, it’s too much oh my- ah-” you wine, feeling tears start to build in your eyes as you edge dangerously close to that peak you need so bad.
“C’mon, mesh’la, let go for me, squeeze my fingers with this little cunt,” he growls, and fuck, you can’t even breathe as you let him work you over, making you cum so hard that you can’t do anything but gasp for air.
And Din can’t fucking take it anymore.
“Fuck, I-” you hear him say, and you turn your head to look at him, even as aftershocks wrack your body, even as his fingers stay buried inside.
“What, Din?” you whisper, and Din nearly curses at the sight of you. Your lashes are wet with tears, stars, why do you have to look at him like that? It wears at his carefully honed control, and fuck, he can practically feel it snap at the sight of you, as the feeling of you.
“Can I fuck you?” he rasps, and you hear him suck in a breath, “please let me fuck you.” You can't hold back the keening whine that leaves your mouth, and Din shivers behind you at the sound of it.
“Please,” you breathe, and Din pulls his fingers out of you without missing a beat, reaching behind you, between your bodies to pull his cock out of his pants haphazardly. You feel the hardness of it press against your lower back, and resist the urge to look. You don’t want to cross any more lines than he’s given you.
“Just this once,” he mutters, pulling your hips back over him, notching the thick head of his cock to your entrance. “Just need to feel you, once, fuck, just once,” and he pulls you down, down, letting his cock stretch you so wide, so perfect.
Months in space, just weeks of having Din touch you, stars, it’s nothing compared to this. You eyes roll to the back of your head as he settles deep inside, so fucking deep that it makes your toes curl.
“Dank farrik, that’s fucking tight-” he grunts, the hot, wet heat of your cunt pulsing around him almost making him fill you up right then and there. He bites his tongue, praying to the Maker that the pain stops him from ending this far too fucking soon.
He uses his hard, strong grip on your hips to roll you into him, grinding you down hard onto his cock. You can only take it as he punches his hips up in aborted, desperate little thrusts that grind into your sweet spot.
“Fuck, Din, it’s so big, I can’t-” you whine, but Din only growls beneath his visor, fucking up into you harder, and your head falls back onto his shoulder plate at the feeling of it. It’s so perfect, it’s everything you’ve needed, stars, how will you survive without him filling you up like this?
“Give me another one, cyare,” he mutters, and he uses one of his hands to bring his fingers to your clit, just like he did that first night. Except this time, his cock is inside you, spreading you so wide and pressing up into your g-spot with every fucking thrust in. You gasp for air, little whines punching out of your throat every time Din shoves in all the way.
He’s a violent man, always has been, and fucking you is no exception. He fucks you like he hunts: fast, rough, fucking monstrous. Tears finally start to pour down your cheeks, and you hiccup through your moans.
“Look at you,” he rasps, “sobbing on my cock like the needy whore you are.” He doesn’t know what’s happened to him, he’s never talked like this, let alone to you. But stars, the way you moan for him has his head spinning, has words pouring out of his mouth like they’ve been trapped there all this time. “Mesh’la, squeezing me so perfect, never want to leave this perfect cunt.”
“Din, fuck, Din, I’m gonna- stars, I’m gonna-” you gasp, your hands scrabbling at the one hand he has rubbing at your swollen clit.
“C’mon, c’mon, let me feel it, need to fucking feel it-” he mutters, and oh-
You’re pretty sure you scream as you cum, but it’s hard to hear it over the ringing in your ears as you thrash in Din’s lap. You can feel him still inside you, his horrible fingers still rubbing dexterous circles into your clit as he floods your cunt with his cum. Your orgasm feels fucking endless, your thighs trying to close but still held wide by Din’s between them.
When you finally start to hear again, the blurriness fading from your vision, you can hear Din behind you, muttering, “fuck, so beautiful, didn’t- didn’t know you could do that.”
“Do- do what?” you slur, still groggy, but as you look in front of yourself, you can see the mess you’ve made. You’d fucking squirted, your wetness drenching his thighs and the floor of the hull. The sight makes your head spin, and you hide your face in his cowl as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you close to him. The coolness of his armor is soothing to your overly-heated body.
“So good, you did so good for me, cyar’ika,” he mumbles beneath the visor. “So pretty, can’t believe- you looked so beautiful.”
You let yourself relax into his hold, and he doesn’t let you go. “Didn’t know I could do that either,” you mumble, sleep already weighing down your eyelids, exhaustion flooding your body. “We’ll have to try again later,” you mumble. “Don’t think once is enough.”
“It will never be enough,” you hear him whisper, “not with you.”
#touch starved and feral din#love of my life#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin smut#din djarin x female reader#din djarin fic#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian smut#star wars smut
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Quite the stretch — luffy
drabble
cws; nsfw.(not again…), cunnilingus(oral) edging, hair pulling(giving& receiving), mirror sex, small power trip(not toxic), exhibitionism(on the ship), idk how to tag sorry yall.. post-timeskip, idk OP plot, tell me if I missed anything!
The room felt hot and sticky. The smell of sweat and sex was a perfect mix. You’ve been locked in this room with the ship's captain for hours, he was insatiable. It would've been sweet, the way he desired you like you were the only one made for him. Like you were all he ever needed. It would've been sweet. If it wasn't for the way he manhandled you;
Luffy grips your hair, pulling your hanging head back up to the pathetic sight of your ruined body in the mirror. Your vision is blurred but you can make out the appearance of your disheveled hair, dilated pupils, and… Was that drool running down your lips? You raise your gaze to the man who made you like this, a resemblance of a smile formed on his lips as he stared down at your fucked out form.
“Aww, don’t look away now. I want you to see how good I make you feel baby” he chuckles.
“Please don't– mmph- don't tease…” your words are slurred, practically drunk on the way he ruts into you. Luffy leans forward, his chest pressed up against your back while his lips ghost over your ear. You can hear every moan and whine that comes out of him, it makes your body shiver when he lets out a whimper.
His arm travels down, giving a quick squeeze to your breast before reaching your stomach. He slows down his relenting pace making you cry out; “nononono… please, d-don't stop… m’so close please luffy,” He can’t help but laugh at your endless babbling. You're so good to him, so soft and sweet. And your cunt always squeezes him in a way that leaves his head thrown back. You were perfect. And he was going to make sure you felt as good as you made him feel.
He pushes into you slightly, his hand pressing into your abdomen. “Can you feel me? So deep inside oh you ha- you feel so good wrapped around me,” you let out a faint whimper, eyes closing, not being able to stare at yourself like this. His other hand goes to grasp your chin, a silent order for you to keep your eyes open.
“Do I feel good too? Fuck– please, tell me, nghh need to hear you.” Luffy whines, his eyes bore into yours from the fogged mirror in front of the both of you. “Mhmm, m’so good, you feels’ good– fuck,” your eyes roll to the back of your head as he picks up his speed. He was pounding into you, hitting your cervix with each thrust. Fuck, you were so close.
But before you could cum he slowly slips his cock out of you, you let out a small whimper at the loss. Your eyes open, ready to beg him to keep going, that you were so close, that you need him to finish fucking you before you feel him flipping you onto your back in one swift movement. You're delirious, gaze unable to focus until you feel his head rest against your leg.
His arm is wrapped snugly around your thigh as he slides his fingers along your folds, playing with you before parting them, glancing up at you as your legs quiver against his broad shoulders. “So sensitive.” He mocks lightly. His lips ghost over your clit, and the laugh he lets out sends vibrations to your core.
Luffy is relentless when it comes to eating you out. His face stays pressed firmly between your quivering thighs, the tip of his tongue flicking and swirling around your clit before he leans in to press sloppy kisses to the sensitive area. “You taste as sweet as you look” Your hands start to tangle themselves into his hair, tugging and pulling as he keeps working his tongue into you.
“You're mmh ‘so mean” you whine, legs thrashing on the bed. Tears start to prick in the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation. It was too much, you couldn’t keep on going like this.
“Don’t cry pretty girl, just wanna make you feel good. Do you feel good baby?” Luffy paused, tilting his head to look at you. “So’so good, please– don't stop!” the octaves of your moans increase the closer you get. A sign that Luffy took for him to work on you faster. Your thighs clench around his head as you come undone. Your throat is dry and your voice is hoarse after moaning for hours on end.
Luffy continues to lick and prod at you for a while longer before removing his mouth from your clit with a pop. You’re both panting heavily, chests heaving, and heads dizzy. You’re so out of your mind that you barely register the words that leave his lips;
“Looks like we made a mess, let me clean it up”
This was going to be a long night.
this is based on an extremely old convo I had with @niangi; "yk how Luffy is like, really stretchy?"
"sure?"
"do you think he can stretch his-"
"stop."
not beta-read or edited
#x reader#luffy x reader#monkey d. luffy#one piece luffy#one piece#monkey d luffy x reader#straw hat luffy#luffy smut#luffy fanfic#one piece smut#one piece fanfiction#cocoswriting
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Spiral (Alessia Russo X MMA!R)
Request: Could you maybe do something where less isn’t around to help r through something and r is spiraling more and more while needing someone to bring her back. One of Alessia's teammates has to kind of shout at r and tell her to kneel or something for her to be grounded featuring Mary (and Lucy slightly)
Part of The come Down universe
Warming: D/s elements. Blood and violence (mentioned but nothing graphic- R punches a wall several times).
It was easy for people to believe that you had an easy life, filled with nothing more than champagne problems and affluenza.
All they saw were the press conferences and interviews after fights where you were riding high on your success. They didn’t see the weeks where you trained upwards of 18 hours a day and ate so strictly that even your water content was measured.
They didn’t see how difficult it was to balance your career and Alessia’s, and the weeks you sometimes went apart.
They didn’t see the nagging injuries that followed you like old ghosts.
And they thought the 1% of your life they saw was enough context for them to make assumptions about the rest of your life, including your relationship with your girlfriend.
You had never been big on social media, but that didn’t mean you were entirely shielded from it.
Especially not when the date for your title fight against Justin Gathje was announced.
Dana wanted you to hype the fight, to make a comment about how wild Justin was in the cage, and how your far more technical style would be a good match.
And you thought the spare moments you had sitting in Alessia’s national team cubby while she did her final lap around Wembley for the fans was the perfect moment.
But as you flicked through your Twitter app, you, realized very quickly that it was a terrible idea.
Justin had already commented on the fight and accompanied his post with pictures of you in the stands a Wembley dressed in your girlfriend's jersey and one of him sweating in the gym.
I think a championship contender should at least be putting in the work instead of fucking off with a bitch who deserves better. #gonnasilencethegolddigger
You knew that it was a stupid post. It made no sense because the fight was 20 weeks away, and starting training camp now, three days post-fight, would only lead to burnout and injuries.
You knew that it was completely untrue considering you had met Alessia at UNC where you had a nice wrestling scholarship and she had a soccer one. There had been no gold to dig.
But that didn’t stop the general public from hopping on the hate train.
There were thousands of replies, and mentions and posts clogging your feed about how undeserving you were.
About how awful of a fighter you were.
About how Alessia deserved someone who could support her.
But it wasn’t the comments from the general public that bothered you.
It was the ones from her former teammates that dug into your brain and stuck.
Her own family didn’t want her so much they shipped her off to America, so it’s sad she’s dragged a stand-up baller like Lessie into her mess. She didn’t deserve her state championship either. #alwaysridingcoattails.
Her own family didn’t want her
Dragged Lessie into her mess
The words burned into your mind, so you saw them every time you closed your eyes, getting more and more bold each time the number of interactions went up.
1000
15,000
300,000
2,000,000
You launched your phone across the room, uncaring how it smashed into a million pieces on the stone like it would smash the image on the screen.
Like it would shatter the tweet and the shots coming from people who had never met you.
Like it would change how right they were.
You breathed in deeply, trying to quell the growing ache in your chest and soothe the feelings bubbling in your stomach.
Alessia’s scent surrounded you, filling your lungs and coating all of your senses. It was normally like a balm on an open wound or ice for a burn, the remedy to your anxiety and a promise that she was there for you.
That she would always be there.
That promise was part of the reason your relationship took the dynamic it did.
Except this time, her scent didn’t loosen the knot in your chest.
It just reminded you how much you took from her. How much better off she would have been if you had never run into her at UNC.
You shoved yourself out of Alessia’s locker, you didn’t deserve to sit in it and paced the small room.
The walls felt like they were getting closer together, and the air felt too heavy.
You couldn’t breathe.
You needed release.
You paused at the far end of the room, staring at the white concrete.
Your fist hit the cold concrete before you even thought about it, and you relished in the pressure of the hard surface on your exposed knuckles. It was more than when you hit pads, more than when you hit someone else.
It was perfect.
You did it again.
You weren’t enough. You hadn’t been for your parents. You wouldn’t be enough for Alessia either.
Your fist hit the wall again.
That’s what everyone had been saying for months. That’s what your father told you when you tried to make amends.
You could see how right they were.
Stupid worthless
You hit the wall again.
How much better off they would be without you.
“Y/n?”
You didn’t even blink at Ella’s voice.
You weren’t good enough. How could you ever be?
You had been birthed by two drug addicts more interested in their own highs than in raising a child. Your neighborhood MMA gym was the only place you had ever found food and safety. How could you ever be enough for Alessia who had been raised by loving parents? Who didn’t have to scrape and claw for food scraps?
Who didn’t crave the freedom you found in total violence. In the destruction of a human.
In the destruction of herself.
“Y/n stop,”
Hands gripped your shoulder, trying to prevent your arm from moving as you launched it again at the slightly pink wall.
It didn’t work.
Your hand slammed into the wall again.
It wasn’t enough. It didn’t hurt enough to ease the volcano in your chest.
You needed more.
“Y/n please,”
Ella’s voice sounded very close to your ear and stinger arms wrapped around your stomach, trying to force you away.
A guttural sound left your lips as the arms were finally able to pull you away, and Lucy stepped between you and your only solace.
You needed it.
“Calm down,” Mary hissed, her arms tugging you again.
You were too out of it to wonder when she had gotten there.
“Go get Alessia,” Lucy said, looking over your shoulder towards who you assumed was Ella. “Now,”
You fought against the arms restraining you.
Keeping you from the only thing that would make the ripping feeling in your brain go quiet.
The door slammed shut and you were forced back another step by strong arms.
“Y/n you need to relax, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Lucy held her hands up as she took a step towards you like you were a wild animal.
And you supposed you were.
Wild and out of control. Spiraling into oblivion.
Lucy Met Mary’s eyes when you fought harder in the keeper's hold, your eyes wildly flickering as your limbs flailed.
This was well out of their ability to fix.
“We have to do it,” Lucy said, and Mary instantly knew what she meant.
Mary nodded once.
She knew you better than Lucy did, so she knew it had to be her if they wanted it to work.
It was the only thing she could think of to help you.
The thing that Alessia would do for you
They had only seen it happen once.
It was the only time the keeper had seen your dynamic's heavier side. The only time Alessia looked truly dominant, and you looked submissive.
Mary squared her shoulders, drawing up to her full height, picturing in her mind the way Alessia had touched you and the tone that she had used. Soft, but dripping in authority that had shocked Mary.
She tried to remember the words your girlfriend had used, the way her fingers pressed perfectly into your skin to make you melt.
She pulled away from you slightly, drawing her hand from your stomach to land heavily on the space where your shoulder met your neck.
“Y/n,” She said mimicking the sheer dominance that Alessia’s voice held that night. “I think that’s enough darling. Kneel for me,”
You froze.
A shiver ran the full length of your spine at the familiar words, and your shoulders rolled like a physical weight had been added to them.
You blinked as the order filtered through the fog in your brain, registering that though it was familiar, the voice that had given it was not.
Her arm loosened around your middle as all of the fight left you, but she kept the grounding hand on your neck.
You leaned into it, breathing in through your nose and very slowly releasing it through your clenched teeth.
You sagged with each exhale, sinking very slowly until you were kneeling at Mary’s feet.
Your head bowed, and you rested your hands palm up on your knees as another rattling breath left you, pressing back into the hand still on your neck like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away into oblivion.
Mary stood frozen, staring at you as you fixed your posture (Alessia hated it when you slouched) and all of the tension, her eyes darting up to meet Lucy’s.
She hadn’t been sure that it would work. That you would listen to it because she wasn’t Alessia. But now that it had, she wasn’t sure what to do.
She didn’t know what came next, or how to navigate it without crossing your boundaries.
“Good job Y/n,” Lucy said, keeping her voice as soft as Mary’s. “We’re just going to stay here and calm down, alright?”
You let out another shuddering breath, more ripples quaking down your spine, and Mary very gently ran her thumb in circles at the back of your neck, hoping it would help to keep you settled.
She knew it was the touch Alessia always took when you were anxious or nervous, but she was also very much aware that she was not Alessia.
“And then we’ll get one of the trainers to look at your hand after Lessie gets here,” The defender continued, her eyes trained on where your jeans were slowly turning red with the blood from your hand.
“But for now, we’re going to just stay right here,” Mary repeated, letting her thumb graze the nape of your neck.
*******
“Less,” Ella’s voice cut through the sounds of the fans calling for Alessia’s attention, the panic in it drawing the strikers eyes before the midfielder skidded to a stop beside her.
“What’s happened?” Alessia asked, passing the shirt she was signing back to the young girl who had handed it to her.
“Y/n,” Ella panted, her eyes wide, afraid despite the cameras pointed their way. “I’ve never seen her like that,”
Alessia frowned, turning away from the fans and wrapping an arm around Ella’s shoulder to give them some semblance of privacy.
“Seen her like what?” She asked, her tone low with something… darker lingering under the surface.
Ella shook her head, unable to describe it with words. “I need you to come, quickly,”
“Ok,” Alessia agreed, following after the midfielder with little question.
She knew that whatever had happened had to be bad to cause that look. To have Ella say it in front of the fans.
Ella sprinted back towards the tunnel with Alessia on her heels, weaving between equipment people, and players until they reached the locker room.
Leah stood outside the door, directing players to the other showers.
Alessia’s frown deepened. “What’s going on?”
“We thought a smaller audience would be better,” Leah murmured, stepping aside for them. “Looks pretty brutal mate,”
Ella patted her back and she stepped towards the door, steeling herself for whatever was inside as she pressed it open.
Her breath caught in her chest as she took in the scene in front of her.
It looked like something out of a slasher film.
Red covered one of the white stone walls, dripping onto the gray floor in dime-sized circles to where you were sitting. No kneeling between Mary and Lucy, a dark patch forming from where it had soaked into your jeans.
Her jaw clenched at your position.
It was hard for people to understand but kneeling was something… intimate between the two of you. It was a show of the trust that you had for her to take care of you. A way to reinforce the power dynamic in your relationship.
It had taken you a long time to feel comfortable enough to let yourself be vulnerable enough to kneel for her, and she treasured how willing you were now. How you seemed to… crave the position.
For someone else to put you there didn’t sit well with her.
Neither did the way Mary’s hand was holding the back of your neck.
“What happened?” She grit out, her eyes flitting between your form and the two women on your either side.
“we’re not entirely sure. We just caught the tail end,” Mary murmured, her thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your skin.
Your eyes were closed, but Alessia could see the tension in your posture. She could see how on edge you were.
How close you were to subspace.
She snooker her head. “And you thought that this was the solution?”
She wanted to scream at her friends. To give them a lecture about consent and safety and trust (even though you wouldn’t be kneeling for them if you didn’t trust them).
They didn’t know your boundaries. This hadn’t been discussed. What if it went wrong and they didn’t recognize the signs of you passing the point of consent?
She knew you often leaned into the dynamic you shared to calm down. To let go, but she knew your limits. She knew your safe word.
She knew all of the signs to look for, because you craved pain when you felt unstable (a habit that had lingered from your childhood), and you wouldn’t always vocalize your limits.
She worried how far backward you would slip after this.
“It was the only way I could think of to get her to calm down. She wasn’t responding to anything else Less,” Mary explained, her voice very soft and gentle. “I tried to do exactly what you do,”
“We also stayed away from honorifics,” Lucy added. “We knew we were overstepping a bit as it was and didn’t want to push further than we had to,”
Alessia wanted to snort that overstepping was an understatement, but she didn’t.
That wouldn’t help you.
Avoiding honorifics had been a very thoughtful touch.
That would have sent you careening into sub-space, and she doubted either of them could have handled that.
“Alright,” She said, taking a deep breath.
She would need to talk to them later, but right now, her priority was you.
And getting to the bottom of what happened.
Of what changed in the 10 minutes you had been left alone.
She settled herself on the bench, placing her sweatshirt on the ground near her feet to act as a cushion for you, and taking a deep calming breath before she let her eyes fall on you.
“Babygirl,” Her voice came out stern, but not angry, and for the first time, you raised your gaze from the floor to meet hers. “Come here,”
She gestured towards the spot at her feet, and without hesitating, you carefully pulled out of Mary’s grasp and crawled to her.
Her fingers weaved through your hair, and she guided you to rest your cheek on her thigh once you settled on the sweatshirt. “What’s going on sweet one? Talk to me,”
You nuzzled into the soft skin of her leg as her nails dragged against your scalp, trying to remember how to speak.
How to form words that would accurately describe the tearing feeling in your chest.
“Not enough,”
The words were horse as they left your lips, heavy and wet like they had been pulled from the depths of your soul.
Alessia hummed, her nails digging more deeply into your hair. “What’s not enough?”
Your breath rattled in your chest, shaking through you to your core.
At the depths of it, you were not enough.
You would never be enough.
“I’ll go get a doc,” Lucy murmured before you heard the sound of the door.
“What is not enough,” Alessia asked again, more insistent.
“I’m not enough, Miss,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Alessia tutted. “We both know that’s not true,”
You groaned.
It was true. The whole internet believed it.
“It is,” You insisted, pulling away from her warm hold to meet her eyes. “Everyone believes it,”
“Who is everyone?” Alessia pressed, staying calm and even. Being your stability.
“I think this has something to do with it,” Mary said, and your eyes snapped to her, where she was holding your demolished phone, the tweets still lighting up the screen.
You had forgotten she was still here.
“What is it?”
Alessia held her free hand out for it, using the other to settle you back against her thigh.
“Bullshit,” Mary answered, passing the phone to your dominant, moving slowly around you, like she was afraid to spook you.
Alessia hummed, flicking through the images on your cracked screen.
The room was silent as she read the words that had set you off, and you let your eyes slide closed, enjoying her closeness.
Enjoying the ability to let go, and trust that she would take care of it.
You ignored the sound of the door opening again, and feet approaching you and Alessia. You didn’t care if people saw you. You knew that she would defend you if you needed it.
“Sweet girl,” Alessia said, fingers tightening in your hair, and you opened your eyes to meet hers over the phone. “Let them look at your hands,”
Your eyes flickered towards the medics, kneeling in front of you, Lucy standing protectively behind them with Mary.
You hummed, slowly lifting your dominant hand and holding it out towards the medic.
He took it gently between his own and began to examine it with a frown.
“I think she needs x-rays,” He said, looking over you towards Alessia who was still scrolling through your feed. “And I can wrap it after that,”
“Alright,” She said, putting your phone down. “We’ll meet you in the training room in just a moment. Can you three give us a second?”
The medic nodded, retreating with Mary and Lucy.
“Take your time,” Mary paused in the doorway. “Me and Luce will get cleaned up and meet you,”
Alessia let out a sound of agreement.
She waited for the door to close before she very gently pulled you up from your knees and into her lap.
You rested your cheek on her chest, tucking your nose into her still-sweaty jersey.
This time her scent didn’t set you on edge. It joined the feeling of her warm arms wrapped around you and her chin on your head, making you feel safe and warm and cared for, even when you didn’t think you deserved it.
“You know all of those tweets are bullshit right?” She asked after your breathing had evened out. “They’re just trying to get under your skin,”
You made a low noise, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
“You are deserving because you are amazing. You are an incredible fighter, and a good human despite the shit hand you were dealt,” She continued. “I love you, and I will always be here for you. Whether you are the world champion, or we’re eating spam and crackers on my bedroom floor,”
Your eyes slid closed and you buried your face in her chest, your lips lifting just a bit at the mention of your favorite snack from college.
From when you were too broke to afford dinner on the weekends.
It didn’t entirely fix the crumbling feeling that accompanied each beat of your heart, but her words were like a tether holding you to reality.
She had loved you before you were a UFC star and she was England's Star Girl, and she would love you after.
That was all that mattered.
She squeezed you tightly and kissed your head. “Let’s go get your hands fixed and then we can go back to the hotel and watch Love Island before bed, alright?”
You hummed again.
You knew a talk about your coping mechanism, about the wall you had destroyed, would also be included after you had come down.
But you didn’t mind.
You and Alessia would get through it. Together.
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they help you practice
Team 141/Reader - Gangbang
TW: explicit consent given, polyamory, vaginal sex, anal sex, face-fucking, double penetration, spitting, come as lube, bulging, Ghoap sex, bukkake, degradation, orgasm control. Let me know if I missed one, I'm sorry. Proceed with caution, please.
You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate.
“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”
You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded.
Price continued,
“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”
“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into.
“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”
A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,
“What kind of bait, sir?”
“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”
“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.
The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job.
“Good. Let's brief the team.”
Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in.
“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”
You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position.
The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.
“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”
Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments.
“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”
“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room.
Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,
“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”
“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”
“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms.
“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly.
Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,
“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”
“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked.
“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”
Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return.
You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.
But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight.
Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,
“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”
Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.
You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back.
You smiled,
“Well, do I look the part?”
Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,
“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”
“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”
Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,
“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”
“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”
“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”
“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”
“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.
Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,
“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”
“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”
Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,
“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”
The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons.
Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,
“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “...or down?”
The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it.
“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone.
The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,
“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”
You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you.
Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,
“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin.
Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath.
“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”
“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.
He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts.
Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache.
Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,
“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”
You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,
“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”
You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew.
“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”
You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,
“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”
You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon.
He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths.
“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone.
The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe.
“You alright, babes?” He laughed.
You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner.
Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly.
“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.
He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you.
You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, and his cock was as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match.
Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning.
You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs.
Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time.
Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,
“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slag, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”
He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face,
“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”
You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you.
“He’s not allowed to come inside of you yet, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”
Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.
Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act.
Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain.
“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded.
You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide.
He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons,
“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”
You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate.
“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”
He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion.
“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.
Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched.
Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core.
Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,
“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”
Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole.
“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”
Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,
“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here. Breathe with me, lass.”
He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done.
It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in.
Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.
You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own.
He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,
“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”
“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.
Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,
“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”
He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony.
As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.
“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”
“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.”
Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out.
Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,
“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”
He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again.
“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price.
“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”
“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been.
Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant.
They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,
“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”
“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.
“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”
“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”
“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you.
He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again.
You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,
“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”
Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation.
“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”
“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”
“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added.
Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange.
Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.
“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval.
“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”
The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise.
Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,
“Missing your masked man already?”
You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,
“He’s a little…preoccupied.”
Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure.
Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole.
“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”
He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb.
When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return.
“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”
You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover.
Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale.
“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.
“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes.
“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him.
“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got yourself a new permanent assignment.”
Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,
“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”
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✯𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲✯
IN WHICH…We experience a toxic relationship between a drug dealer and his baby momma
WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! Toxic behaviors, slight domestic abuse (not really but I’m putting it as a warning anyway), drugs, sex, broken household
Words highlighted in orange is Chris and how he connects with the song. Pink highlighted words is Y/n (aka you) and how you connect with the song. Purple highlighted words is how both you and Chris (or others in the story) connect with the song.
Chris sighs as the beaten-up screen door squeaks open, the hot LA air immediately rushing past his face. He lets it close by itself as he walks along the porch, taking a seat in his chair. He sets down his cup and sparks his blunt, closing his eyes as he inhales the grape-flavored tobacco leaf and weed.
The sound of laughter catches his attention, making him open his eyes. He scans the lawn briefly before he lands on two bodies rolling around in the yard, one bigger than the other.
He whistles catching both of their attention, the younger one gasping in excitement.
"Mama! Daddy is awake!"
Chris catches the eye of the child's mother and sighs.
I know this ship is sailed and this is dead
I'm singin', "RIP," I'm singin', "RIP," yeah
He can see the irritation in her eyes, a feeling he has been all to familiar with for the last three years. He doesn’t know when it started but if he had to guess, it was a month after Kehlani was born, their relationship taking a turn for the worst.
The relationship was dead and he knew it, he knew from the beginning they wouldn't last. But he did it for her, he tried to make things work but it seemed like she was against him.
Kehlani runs as fast as her little legs can take her, diving right into Chris's lap. He laughs and quickly moves the blunt away so he won't burn the four-year-old, or get smoke in their face.
I know you gave up long time ago
Boy, I'm singin', "RIP," I'm singin', "RIP"
Y/n watches Kehlani and Chris giggle and play with each other on the porch, her heart sinking. She hates to admit it but she was envious of her daughter having all of Chris's attention.
It seemed like he hated her.
From the moment Chris laid eyes on the child, she was pushed back on the backburner. It was difficult to handle, especially going through postpartum.
She tried to do better, act better, hoping Chris would give her an ounce of attention, but he would just ignore her.
She knew Chris had given up on their relationship a long time ago, and it hurt. However, she has come to terms with it.
She stands up and brushes the grass and dirt off her pants, walking towards the home. She runs up the porch steps and frowns seeing the blunt near her child.
She snatches the four-year-old off of his lap and gives him a dirty look, “Momma I want to stay with Daddy!”
“No, it’s lunch time and then you need to nap.” She says getting ready to walk in the house.
She stops when she hears Chris’s voice, “Let her stay out here while you make us lunch.” She turns and sees Chris putting the blunt in his mouth, his eyes trained on her.
“I said no, Finish your blunt and come make your own food.”
She opens the screen door and steps foot into the house, only to freeze hearing Chris’s mumbling.
“Fucking bitch.”
All I need's some Loving,
"Daddy, do you love me?" Kehlani's words make Y/n chuckle to herself, a small smile ghosting her lips.
"Of course I do baby. I love you with my whole life and beyond."
The four-year-olds next words make Y/n stop in her tracks, "Do you love momma the same amount?"
She knows what Chris is going to say, he's going to mask it to the child but he's going to make it clear that he doesn't love her.
She grabs the plates of food and starts walking to the table.
"I love momma a lot, the same way I love you"
His words catch Y/n off guard and she trips and falls, the plates breaking and the food going everywhere. Chris quickly sets Lani on the couch, telling her not to move before he rushes into the kitchen.
"What the fuck happened?" He asks as he sees Y/n surrounded by broken plates and food. "I-Im sorry, I ju-" his eyes soften seeing her sniffling, her eyes glossy with salt water.
He inches forward, careful to avoid the sharp glass before kneeling in front of her. "Talk to me ma, what's wrong?"
"Y-you said you love me....you haven't said it in so long." She sobs out, her whole body shaking. He quickly pulls her into him, rubbing her back softly. "Shh, I know, and I'm sorry. You know I love you baby, I could never stop loving you."
She sobs even harder and grips Chris tightly,
That's all she ever wanted to hear.
"Why don't we order tonight?"
some fucking
"Shhh mama you don't wanna wake Lani up do you?" Chris asks, holding back a groan himself. Y/n moans quietly, her head thrown back in pleasure.
"Taking me so well mama's. Whose pussy is this?"
"Fuck! it's yours- all yours daddy!"
"That's right."
And you say this shit don't matter
But we always goin' at it, ain't no trustin
"Why do we always fight?" Chris asks holding the girl in his arms. He can see the gears turning in her head, thinking of multiple reason as to why they fight, but she tells him it doesn't matter.
"But it does matter...all we do is fight." He thinks to himself.
I need some lovin', good, good fuckin'
It's times like this that make Y/n despise the father of her child. He never wants to address anything, he always wants to leave shit in the air, causing more arguments.
She doesn't want argument, she hates arguing.
She wants love, but he has to settle for sex to 'cure' their problems.
And we fussin' and we fight, and you always wonder why
Y/n scoffs as Chris continues to yell at her, "You always do this stupid shit Y/n! You wanna love me one minute, then you accuse me of fucking cheating and hating you!"
"Because you fucking do!" She screams at the top of her lungs. Chris stares at her with no emotion, used to her raising her voice at him.
"You asked me the other night why we always fussin' and fighting and it's because of you!" She stabs her finger in his chest. "You treat me like shit! I hear you calling me out my fucking name, I catch you giving me dirty looks!"
"That doesn't mean I hate you! And it sure as hell doesn't mean I cheated on you!"
Y/n smiles with tears in her eyes, " But it does Chris...I'm not dumb, I've seen the texts in your phone, I've seen you come home with hickeys...and I won't forget the night you came home and told me you cheated on me, because my body changed after I gave birth to your child!"
Chris's stomach falls to his ass as he watches Y/n begin to pack a bag.
"W-Where are you going?"
And my mama told me, "None of this should come as a surprise"
"It hurts so much! I do my best and it's never enough!" Y/n sobs into her mother's arms. She had packed a bag and left with Kehlani after her and Chris's argument, not wanting to spend another second with him.
"Baby none of this should come as a surprise. I've been told you this when you were younger after your daddy." Y/n looks up at her mother in confusion, her brows furrowed.
"W-what did you tell me?"
" love don't come easy, it don't come easy"
Love don't come easy, yeah, givin' up easy
"Don't give up on it yet baby...I know you want it to be a plain and simple game but you have to work for it, the both of you."
Times get hard, but nothing's easy
Let's go out
Y/n approaches Chris in the kitchen who is currently measuring out weed. She sits across from him and waits for him to acknowledge her. "What do you want?" He sounds irritated, making Y/n nervous. She looks down and fiddles with her fingers.
"I was thinking we could go out...like a date... like we used to."
Let's try it out
Chris stops measuring the weed and looks at her, "it was just a th-ok." He shrugs, leaning back in his chair.
"Really?"
She smiles genuinely, something he hasn't seen her do in a long time. He stands up and walks over to her, rubbing a hand over her face. "Yeah, lets try it out." She breaks out into a wide grin and jumps up, planting a fat kiss on his cheek.
You don't hear me out,
Y/n sighs as Chris tells her to be quiet. They were in the car driving home when somehow, an argument started. All she said was that maybe he shouldn't sell as much so they could spend more time with each other.
That's why you always run your mouth,
"You always have shit to say! You never shut the fuck up! It's always complaints and trying to fucking act better than me, and I'm sick of this shit! Just shut your fucking mouth!"
We been talking 'bout our love's runnin' out
But you don't hear me out, yeah
"You don't fucking listen to me Chris! that's why I keep saying the same shit!" Y/n yells as they enter the house. She throws her heels in the corner and rushes towards the bedroom, grabbing a bag.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Chris asks, his eyes set on her frantic figure throwing clothes in the bag. She ignores him and goes to Kehlani's room, beginning to pack more clothes.
"I'm leaving you, that's what I'm doing. I'm taking Kehlani and leaving you!" She tries to move past Chris but he stands in her way. "You're not fucking leaving me Y/n, and you're not taking my child!" She ignores him and goes to step to the side but he moves with her. He grabs her making her jerk back, "Don't fucking touch me! Let me go Chri-YOU'RE NOT FUCKING LEAVING ME!" He slams her against the wall.
She winces as her head bounces off the wall, looking at Chris in fright.
That's why you always run your mouth
Chris's grip remains tight on her arms, his breathing heavy. "You're not leaving me, and you're not taking Lani either...J-just stop." His voice breaks as he stares into her eyes.
And all I need's some Lovin',
"You can't leave me, you c-can't take Lani away from me, please." His eyes begin to sting as tears blur his vision. "I'm tired of this Chris" Y/n croaks, her throat closing as she begins to cry as well. He nods, understanding her words. "I know ma, I know and I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry-" he wraps his arms around her waist and starts to kiss along her jawline.
some fuckin'
"Let me make it up to you...Let me show you how much I love you."
And the sex is still compatible
But I ain't got no manual for trustin'
She knows she shouldn't, she shouldn't crave his touch, she shouldn't crave to be intimate with him. She should put her foot down and stand ten toes on her threat of leaving, but she doesn't.
Chris sees her hesitancy and continues to convince her, promising he will change, promising he will be more loving.
She doesn't know if she believes him, but she gives in anyway.
I need some lovin', good, good fuckin'
Y/n's head is pushed into the pillows as Chris slams into her repeatedly.
"Fuck, I love you so much Ma. Say it, say you love me."
"Fuck! I love you!" She reaches back, holding Chris's hand as his dick slides in and out of her dripping cunt.
You say something isn't right, only fuckin', gettin' high
"This feels weird" Y/n mumbles as she and Chris sit on the couch. They had put Lani to bed around an hour ago, and now they are on the couch watching TV. Chris looks down at the girl snuggled into his side, "What are you talking about Ma?"
She sits up and crosses her legs, playing with the fraying couch, "I mean...It seems like all we do is have sex and get high. We never sit with each other all cuddled up and relaxed, we're always arguing." Chris sighs and pulls the girl onto his lap, "Is that what you want to do? You want to only argue, have sex, and get high with me?" Y/n shakes her head, begging to play with his chain.
"Good, because I don't want to either."
And my daddy told me, "Hold your heart in order to survive"
"You have to do better son. For yourself, and your family." Chris sighs as he listens to his father's words. "I'm trying pops, I really am it's just hard."
"I know it is, but you have to hold your heart in order to survive. What I mean by that is that, your heart is your lifeline, without it you would die. Y/n is your lifeline son. Without her, you would destroy yourself. Hold her close, cherish her, water her like a flower so both you and your family can grow."
'Cause love don't come easy, it don't come easy
Love don't come easy, yeah, givin' up easy
Y/n couldn't do it anymore.
She was fed up with the toxic relationship, so she left. She left while Chris was out dealing, throwing bags in her car and fleeing to her mothers house with Lani.
When Chris came home and saw the note on the fridge, he broke down. Vases being broken, and tables being flipped over as well.
He couldn't believe she gave up this easily on them, on what they could be.
Love don't come easy, it don't come easy (No, no)
It don't come easy
Chris bangs on the door, waiting for someone to answer. eventually, it does open and he sees the girl who has been avoiding him for a month now.
"Chris?" She questions in confusion. She never told him she was staying at her mother's home, so to see him was a surprise. She crosses her arms and looks down at her shoes, "what do you want?"
"I want you back."
"Chris I do-"
Times get hard, but nothing's easy
tears form in her eyes as she looks at the ring in the box.
"I-I know I haven't been the best to you. I've said some horrible things to and about you, I-I cheated, and all in all, I treated you like shit. I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry. I-I want- no- I need you in my life. You're my heart, my lifeline, my everything. I don't know what I would do without you."
"I'll do better I promise! Things won't be easy, but I'm going to try... Just please don't leave me...Don't take my family away from me, don't give up on me."
Tell your man you trust him
Y/n accepted the proposal, allowing Chris to put the ring on her finger. She quickly brings him into a hug, sobbing softly. "I'll do better, I promise. You just have to trust me Ma. I'll give you the whole world if you just trust me."
"I trust you"
Tell your girl you love her
"I love you so much Ma, I love you so much." He whispers as he rubs her back.
Tell your dad you miss him
"Daddy you're back!" Lani shouts as she runs up and hugs his leg. Chris sniffles and picks her up, wrapping one arm around her and the other around Y/n.
"I missed you so much!"
And call your mom and thank her
Y/n walks away from the father and daughter duo, calling her mother to thank her for being a good guide and letting her and Lani stay with her for the month.
Tell your daughter you love her
"I love you so much Lani, with my whole life." Chris expresses as he holds her close, grateful to have the child back in his arms.
Tell yourself you got this
It's unknown to both adults that their minds are reeling as they drive home, both of them giving themselves a mental pep talk.
"You got this, it will be different this time. everything will be better."
'Cause these times get hard, but nothing's easy
They come to a red light and Chris looks over to Y/n who is staring down at her engagement ring.
"I love you," he expresses as he takes hold of her hand.
"I love you too Chris."
idk how i feel about this so if yall don't like it, ion blame you 😭
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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 4
⬅ch. 3
➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓
➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER
➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. forced proximity. blood, war, and death. wc 5.3k.
➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | this one was fun to write!! it's a bit longer than previous chapters too. thank you for all the messages and ideas for this fic, i hope i do it justice! and as usual, feedback is appreciated <3
𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
...al mazrah…
you sat trembling on board the razor-1, your bag tucked between your legs, wedged nervously between two insanely muscled marines that made you feel minuscule in comparison. ghost stood as the aircraft began to land and soap gave you a reassuring look from across the terminal.
you undid your seatbelt and you felt your fingertips vibrate as they clung to your tactical vest, all of your adrenaline was starting to make you feel sick.
“this is capture or kill,” soap had said to you. “but we need him alive.”
“that’s where i come in,” you mumbled under your breath.
soap nudged you on the shoulder. “don’t worry so much. you’ll hang back while we infiltrate the base hassan is camped up in. then you can swoop in to save the day when i have him bleeding out on the floor.” you rolled your eyes at soap’s confidence. “easy.”
“right,” you mocked, trying to hide the terror that was slowly seeping into your bones.
ghost began rambling off orders, the aircraft shaking as it made contact with the ground, and you tried to instill it in your brain that you had nothing to be so fearful about; this was just another mission for the guys. they did things like this all the time for the sake of their country. but the fact that you had never been on the frontline before kept niggling your mind. you began to wonder if you were really made for this kind of shit.
it wasn’t that long ago you had wanted nothing more than to join the military to help wounded soldiers when you realized you had nothing left for you back home. after your friend died in combat, an injury that could have been mended if they had enough medics in their arsenal, you decided to put on a brave face and save soldiers just like him. regardless of what you thought about war, you wanted to be a medic, meaning neutral ground. you were there to mend the fallen, it didn’t matter to you what side they were on.
and as much as you didn’t like to brag or be filled with a sense of pride–it always made you uncomfortable–it was just a technicality to say you were at the top of your class. the best of the best , as price had said.
“keep up,” ghost grunted to you as he turned to exit the craft, walking down the ramp. you shook yourself out of your head-pounding thoughts and quickly followed the group of men out of the ship, leaving team alpha behind.
you stumbled onto the ground, the strays of your hair that stuck out from under your beanie beneath your helmet fluttered in the wind as the ship took off to take team alpha downrange.
“razor-1, all bravo deployed. moving to secondary hlz,” the pilot said over the comms for everyone to hear.
your eyes locked onto soap’s, his gun at the ready. he nodded his head, urging you to follow him. you both made your descent with the rest of bravo, willing your hands not to shake as you held your gun up, your night vision goggles set over your eyes.
“all stations- razor-1 is bracketed, we’re getting lit!” the pilot’s anxious voice echoed in your ears. “incoming- flares! flares!”
you watched as the horizon lit up in front of you, hustling to stay beside soap.
“shit that was close!” another voice spoke.
and then, an urgent “second missile!”
you tensed, scurrying after the group of men who crept down the small incline. things were picking up fast. you had barely been out of the ship–it was certainly less than two minutes–and explosions and gunfire were already filling the air.
“oh fuck…!”
“razor-1 going down! we’re going down!”
your teeth clenched as you switched into a run, all your gear slowing you down and making you huff your breaths.
“stay close!” you heard soap yell in your ear.
you nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see you. the smell of ash began to fill your senses.
“hold up,” ghost commanded. the team stopped, a small explosion erupting at the bottom of the hill where building 1 was located.
“alpha, what’s your status?”
coughing and wheezing breaths harrowingly echoed on the comms.
“alpha, how copy…?” ghost said with a bit more urgency.
“bravo- alpha is immoblie. multiple critical!” a brief pause sounded between the man’s reply. “oh, shit! we’re taking effective fire!”
you clenched your gun. what if you, or soap, or ghost had been assigned alpha? you sucked in a breath of air and tried to calm your racing heart.
“alpha, we’re moving to building 1. hold tight.” ghost’s voice was so smooth as he spoke like this type of shit was a regular occurrence to him. the same candace as someone who was greeting a friend in a coffee shop. his nonchalance sent shivers up your spine.
“ghost, we need to secure that crash site now,” soap spoke.
“first, we clear for hassan, that takes the heat off alpha. then we secure the crash site. clear?”
“roger that.”
“let’s move.”
ghost, hustling towards the rocky house, swept into your line of sight. soap turned his head and when he saw you were close behind him, he took off after ghost.
“force up to the house.” ghost whispered.
you stumbled over the uneven terrain, the weight of all your gear and the obstruction the goggles caused was making it difficult to see.
the sound of shuffling pants, boots crunching the pebbled earth, and the slight hum of machinery was the only sound in your ears when no one was speaking. you felt your chest tighten with nerves.
suddenly, with your body realizing the height of the situation, you began to steady. you were good under pressure. exceptionally good. this is why you were here , you told yourself. you could do this .
you heard an enemy soldier shouting something in the distance that you couldn’t quite make out–he must have been speaking arabic.
the group rounded up outside the house and ghost scaled the edge of the building. a man handed him a sledgehammer. “breacher up,” he said faintly before he slammed it into the wooden door. you felt a chill catch along the hairs of your arms as he broke open the door in one swift motion, you could see his muscles taut even through his thick layers of clothes.
“sweep through,” ghost called. soap was at the doorway and began shooting.
you tried to pay attention to your surroundings as you waited for soap and ghost to clear the way. the blazing fire in the distance sent eerie shadows along the buildings and barren trees.
“first deck clear! negative on hassan,” a bravo said.
another replied, “copy that, second deck’s clear!”
“rog,” ghost grunted.
you slipped into the building behind the men, watching as they scanned their surroundings and made themselves safe behind barriers.
“contact! building 2!” a voice shouted.
you stumbled back against a storage cabinet as gunfire ricocheted off the walls.
“they know we’re here!” ghost shouted. in a startling motion, he turned to you, spying you immediately as you shifted your weight. “stay down!”
you nodded and huddled behind a workbench. the men began shooting rounds at the men in building 2. the sharp metallic clank of a bullet hitting a metal desk off to your right made you jump, the shell clinking on the floor like a fallen coin. you felt your eyes widen slightly.
“all bravo, move on building 2!” ghost stated, his voice a welcoming sound through your headset. you tried to focus on his voice instead of the shouts of men and blasting echoes of weapons.
ghost and someone from alpha spoke to each other as the men started their way towards building 2. soap appeared beside you and helped you up. “you alright, lass?”
you nodded, “m’good.” you brushed yourself off and followed soap as he led you out of the building and towards another that was roughly 100 feet before your squad. you could see ghost already approaching the second building, his feet shuffling as he stayed out of the line of sight of the open doorway.
shouts in arabic made you stagger as you walked. gunshots in the distance followed by the occasional explosion filled the otherwise gorgeous night. you slid your goggles up and glanced at the starry sky. if it wasn’t for the bloodshed unfolding before you, you could easily see yourself laying out on one of these hills, the cool night air ruffling your hair as you watched the stars–they were so bright without all the light pollution.
soap slid up to one of the open doors and motioned for you to huddle beside another fellow sergeant. soap was bundled in his uniform, his sleeves rolled up, and his night vision goggles on–same as you. you wondered if you looked as intimidating as he did.
“prep for breach,” ghost said.
“7-1 moving interior,” soap responded.
he quickly shot down three enemy soldiers before disappearing inside the building. you followed in pursuit, your heart hurting as you saw slouched bodies pool with blood, even if you knew they were the enemy. you hurried after soap and caught a glimpse of ghost using his knife to slice into a man with barely any effort. blood began to coat his gloves.
you crept behind soap as he slowly moved up the stairs to the second floor. gunshots repeatedly fired in front of the two of you.
“i’m hit!” a bravo shouted.
you dashed up the stairs but soap pulled you back before you reached the top, gripping your utility vest to bring you into him. “hey! wait till i clear it!”
“okay, then hurry up!” you huffed as soap went ahead of you and leaned around the corner, taking out the men in the other room.
you used that time to scurry off behind him and out onto the terrace where the injured soldier had crawled in order to get out of firing range.
you crouched beside him and slung your bag off your shoulder. “here,” you said as you pressed a cloth to his bullet wound. “hold pressure!”
a loud shotgun in the next room made you jump. you turned to look, your hands deep in your bag. you spotted soap and let out a breath of relief knowing it wasn’t him at the end of the barrel.
you heard soap’s footsteps return out onto the deck. “one’s in the hallway,” the soldier said to soap.
you worked deftly to pack and wrap the wound as soap slid off down the hall and you heard a strangled cry as he knifed someone.
“ghost, enemy rockets down,” soap said in your ear.
“thanks,” the man before you mumbled as his hand replaced yours where he began to hold the bandage. you heard soap speaking in the next room.
“the house is clear. time to go,” ghost muttered in your ear.
“it just grazed you,” you said to the sergeant. “you should be alright as long as we limit the bleeding.”
soap appeared beside you moments later, helping the man up as he limped. “you good to walk?”
the man nodded.
“all bravo circle up outside,” ghost commanded.
“let’s go,” soap said down to you.
you ran after soap down the steps and out into the field. you spotted the crash site not too far ahead and you felt your ears ring seeing the formidable tower of flames in the backdrop.
it didn’t take long to approach the ship and you followed soap and ghost as they entered the terminal.
“we got five k.i.a., one wounded. it’s just my gun and i’m low on ammo.”
you slid past soap and rushed to the man on the ground. the sergeant was knocked out cold and you quickly tried to make a mental note of his vitals. you tried to remember his name, but with everything that was occupying your brain right now, it eluded you.
you knew the others were talking, but you didn’t hear them as you honed in on the man bleeding out before you.
“get your gun on that tree line,” you finally deciphered through your hazy thoughts as ghost spoke.
you looked over your shoulder as loud explosions went off and shook the craft.
“fuck, man! fuck,” the alpha said.
“you called it, lt.!” soap said as he aimed his gun out the ship’s window.
as you bandaged the man, ghost and soap began firing rapidly.
“they’re getting close. secure the ramp!”
your heart felt like it was in your throat. another bomb went off and the craft shook violently. you yelped, falling sideways.
“sergeant!” ghost called. you pushed yourself up and tried to orient yourself. ghost shouted your name when you wouldn’t reply. you looked up at him. “you alright?”
you stared at him before your eyes flickered to soap who was shooting his gun out the window.
“are you alright?” ghost said more forcefully, his frame bending in half, his face now in your direct line of sight to grab your attention. it hadn’t registered that ghost was talking to you. you were only frazzled from the rocking of the craft, the explosions ringing in your ear, but you were otherwise safe behind ghost and soap, so you weren’t sure why he was so set on making sure you were okay.
however, ghost seemed to not be able to accept that you were okay until you verbally told him.
“yes,” you said faintly. ghost turned back to aiming his gun out the window without a second thought.
after another minute of gunfire, there was a lull.
“we clear?” soap asked.
“for now…” ghost replied.
you finished wrapping the arm of the bleeding soldier, and assessed that he had hit his head and had knocked himself out.
“alpha, you’re with us.” ghost commanded as he took off out of the ship. you and the men followed. you spoke over the comms to let the others know you left a soldier back in the crash site. he was wounded, but would be okay.
“those fuckers used us as bait, didn’t they?” alpha 0-2 said.
“they’re well supplied and fighting relentlessly. thanks to hassan,” ghost said unhappily.
soap looked back at you. “keep up. we’re gonna need ya.”
you hustled behind him, your pistol at the ready.
the lot of you ran a wide berth, sprinting towards building 3, hoping hassan was inside. the sharp whistle of a bullet spiraled past you.
“a.q. sniper on the roof! get down!” ghost shouted to everyone. before you even had a chance to move, ghost was pushing you down into the grass. you gasped as you were squashed beneath him, laid out on the dirt. he held his gun up and aimed at the roof as he lay beside you.
“soap, take out the shooter. rest o’ ya stay low until we’re all clear!” ghost said, not acknowledging the fact that he had just pressed you flat to the ground, his body half covering yours.
soap shot a bullet. “sniper down!”
ghost rolled off of you and stood up, giving you a quick hand as he heaved you upright. he didn’t even look at you before he took off running towards building 3. your entire body was tingling.
it looked like a gallant eruption of fireworks above the building as enemy bullets fired toward you. air support lighting up the sky. soap was a few feet behind you and picked off the snipers one by one. you followed close behind the others as you approached the building.
soap was quick to follow, coming up from behind and going up the stairs and into the decrepit house. “7-1, moving interior,” he said.
glass exploding rippled in the building and you peeked inside to see soap shooting someone down.
“check the bodies, we need positive i.d. on hassan,” ghost said as he slid off to go in the right-side entrance.
you hunched over slightly as you followed behind him, looking down at ghost’s trail of corpses as you did, checking for hassan.
“anyone have eyes on hassan?” ghost asked after a minute.
“negative on hassan,” soap replied.
you tripped over rubble and fell to your knees with a huff. “shit,” you muttered to yourself. your foot was lodged in the concrete chunks. you tried to pull it free but that just shifted the rubble further, a large piece falling over your ankle. it was too heavy for you to move yourself. the house shook.
“sergeant,” ghost said, making you look up. he had backtracked when he realized you were no longer behind him.
“i can’t get my foot loose,” you said.
arabic echoed down the hall making your head snap up in alert. ghost began moving faster, squatting down as he approached you and heaving the rubble aside to get your foot out in one easy motion.
“ow, fuck,” you said, biting your lip to try and muffle your sounds.
ghost’s eyes flickered to yours before he moved the last piece that set your foot free.
the rest of bravo had already moved to the antithetical end of the house when the voices began to close the distance.
“shit,” ghost mumbled, pulling you up. he did so with such force that you collided into him, your hands landing against his chest with a gasp.
the men sounded close and you counted at least four different voices. their candace rose as they edged closer, like they were right around the corner when you were moved by ghost and suddenly faced with darkness.
“wha–”
ghost’s hand covered your mouth to silence you, pushing you against a wall. your eyes adjusted and you saw a sliver of light pour in through the slats of the door. ghost had pulled you into a closet. a very tiny closet at that.
your chest was pressed flesh against ghost’s, the room far too small to hold yourself and ghost–who was already too big to fit in a closet on his own, let alone one with you.
you could feel his chest move up and down as he steadied his breathing. your hands were on his utility vest. the voices of the men were now right outside the door. your fingers gripped tight on his vest as you tried to be as quiet as possible. he slowly let his hand fall to his side when he could trust you to be silent.
why wasn’t ghost attacking them? you’ve seen him take down trained men in less than two seconds. so why did he decide to hide now? was four too many for him? you doubted it, but you also tried not to think of the logistics because all that swam through your mind was how close ghost was to you. there was almost no space between your bodies, his front flesh against yours as he pushed you against the wall.
a rectangle of light slid across ghost’s face, illuminating his eyes which were visible now that his goggles were turned up on his helmet, making the brown in them gleam. like he could feel you staring, he looked down at you and you felt your face heat. you shifted your stance, trying to widen the distance between your bodies but your back was already flat against the wall. there was nowhere to go.
“what’re you doin’?” he said quietly.
you glared at him in response as you continued to slightly shift your body, wanting to at least have it so your side was pressed against him and not your front. you tried to shuffle your feet, wanting to turn, to push him back a bit, but you ended up just rubbing against him instead.
“quit squirming!” he finally hissed, his hands coming out to rest on either side of your head.
well now you were just stuck in an awkward stance so you tried to move your hips a bit, wanting to pull them away from ghost and back to how you were originally standing, but with the limited space, you were essentially just moving your hips against his own.
ghost growled in his throat and you stopped moving and let your breathing steady. you felt something hard press against your stomach and your eyes widened as you stared at ghost’s chest.
oh my god, you thought.
you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes flickered to his own, his eyes already pouring into you. your breath got caught in your throat. “i told ya to quit fuckin’ wiggling ‘round,” he said as if that made things more appropriate.
a flash of heat ebbed through your core. you told yourself that this was purely a physical thing– men could get turned on by a goddamn gust of wind if it hit them the right way. this had nothing to do with the fact that it was you pressed against him. this kind of bodily response would have happened no matter who it was against him.
you went to clench your thighs together in nerves and heat but you were stopped by ghost’s thigh. you realized the ceiling in there was too short for him and he had to hunch over, his knees bending and leaning on the wall between your own legs. oh my god , you thought again.
your face went red hot. fuck, of course you were stuck with ghost in the world’s smallest closest.
ghost’s eyes traced your face when he felt your legs press against his own, a sudden flare igniting in them.
oh no, did he think you were… you quickly worried. you wondered if ghost could tell you had been squeezing your legs together to subdue the quick sweeping sensation of arousal you got–this was not the time or place!
ghost’s head shifted ever so slightly closer to your own and his eyes were now disguised by the shadows of the closet. you could feel his warm breath against your face as he panted through his mask. you were trapped. he had you pinned, his large arms encasing your head, his leg between your own, his face inching closer to yours.
you felt your breath get lost in your throat, your mind suddenly going blank.
“ghost! ghost, where are you?” soap’s voice broke through both of your ears.
ghost halted any and all movement, his eyes flickering between your own. you realized you no longer heard iranian voices and wondered how long the men had been out of range.
it was as if ghost realized that at the same time you did because he pushed away from you and slid out the door, into the dusty and war-torn living room. now that he was away from you and not clogging your brain, you thought you might have imagined the way he had been edging toward you.
“deck one secure. any i.d. on hassan?” ghost spoke, his voice strained.
you slid out of the closet behind him. “negative, lt.” soap replied.
ghost turned to you as you stumbled into him, your ankle giving out at the most opportune time.
“ shit ,” you grunted. ghost turned his head to look at you, his eyes glowing in the flames that brewed inside the building. “sorry,” you muttered.
“keep close,” he said to you. you felt your chest ignite. you had to control your eyes from shifting to his waist to see what you felt moments earlier. you were surprised your willpower was strong enough.
ghost led you around the bend and up a set of stairs, soap appearing beside you both. “pushing second deck.”
you slid on your night vision goggles and watched as ghost scurried to the side of a door when he made it to the top of the steps. a man opened it and walked through, ghost grabbing him and slamming him against the wall, the man’s gun pressed to his chest. in two swift motions, ghost shot his abdomen then his head, letting the body sink down.
jesus . you always knew ghost was a ruthless killer, but that was more so knowledge in theory. it was another thing entirely to watch it unfold before your own eyes.
you followed the men as they stealthed into the next room. you heard soap’s gun go off, and then ghost’s voice. “clear. hassan’s everywhere…”
you could hear hassan’s voice as it played in the distance, seemingly from every room. a video on loop of him speaking nonsense sat in the shadows like a horror movie. you felt a chill run down your legs realizing that no matter which way you turned, hassan’s voice was not far off.
“everywhere but here,” you mumbled. ghost’s eyes scanned you up and down before trailing on into the next room. you swore every hair on your body stood on its ends.
“the perpetrators of general ghorbrani’s execution must be sentenced to the death penalty and the world must witness the death of those responsible!” hassan’s iranian accent sang through a crackling radio.
you and soap poked around, not finding anything of use, apart from soap spotting hassan’s uniform, meaning he had recently been here.
“so he was here,” you muttered.
“lost him when we secured the crash site,” ghost spoke, looking between you and soap.
“are you sayin’ we shouldn’t have helped?” soap asked.
ghost averted his eyes on his next words as if he didn’t like what he was about to say. “choices have consequences…” his eyes gazed over to yours, burning holes through his skull mask. you could see the disappointment and guilt that was attached to his statement. you were surprised at how much emotion he was able to exude through just his eyes. you wondered if he knew that.
“all bravo- we got movement out here,” someone said over the comms.
ghost reached up to click his receiver, his eyes still on yours, “on the way.”
you followed behind the two men as the continued to speak. as you made it out behind the house, ghost spoke, “what do we got?”
“a warehouse. roll up doors open. heard somethin’ inside.”
ghost spoke with a sense of assuredness, “copy, let’s clear it.”
you trailed the men as they all took off towards the large warehouse, ghost and soap hoping that hassan was nestled inside.
you rested your back against the building as the men started inside, gunshots and smoke bombs going off as they fought the enemy planted in the warehouse.
“all alone?” a husky voice with a thick iranian accent spoke. you looked to your right, your hands grabbing your gun, startled, when a man disarmed you in a quick, fluid motion.
you yelped as his hand wrapped around your neck, pressing you forcefully to the exterior wall. you saw static stars begin to spread across your vision.
shit, shit, shit.
your legs flailed as you tried to kick and squirm your way out of his grip. his hand held you tighter. you swore your feet began to lift off the ground. recalling all the training you had done the last two weeks, you propped your knee up, bending it as much as you could against your chest, then shot it out with all the strength you could manage. the man stumbled, releasing you, as he collapsed onto the ground.
“eahira” bitch . he scrambled to get up and you panicked, trying to get your knife out of it’s sheath.
before the man could grab you again, his body just a hair from your own, a bullet pierced his skull. flecks of his blood squirted across your exposed face like red freckles. you stood in complete shock, the man sinking to the ground with a thump.
it was ghost that replaced the dead man, his hands resting on your shoulder, his deep voice saying your name repeatedly.
you finally looked up at him. “are you okay?” you swear you could see a bit of pride in his eyes as he took you in.
you nodded weakly, wincing as your neck muscles throbbed in pain from the small movement.
ghost yanked your mask up to look at your neck, already beginning to bruise.
his eyes darkened as they met yours again. “if that fucker wasn’t already dead, i’d tie him up and rip off his limbs one by one for that.”
you couldn’t help the astonished laugh from escaping your lips at the exorbitant threat. then a pang of heat surfaced when you realized ghost had made no such threats as his other men were picked off. he also didn’t seem to rush to their aid immediately. yet here he was… with you.
“hassan,” you said meekly.
ghost’s hands left your shoulders as he straightened. you felt a bit of sadness at the loss of contact.
“not here. found an arsenal of ballistic missiles. american missiles.”
your eyes widened at the information. “and shepperd…”
“already alerted.”
you nodded. “so that’s it then?” you asked, referring to the war trail you and your men left behind with nothing to show for it.
ghost gave a nod back. “we’re one step closer. we’ll find him.”
you don’t know why you took his word with such ease, but you knew he meant what he said. ghost wouldn’t rest until he had hassan in his clutches.
day broke by the time a humvee arrived to carry you all back to base. the injured men were loaded on one, the rest of bravo and alpha on another. there were significantly fewer men than when you started this hours ago. you felt a heavy feeling swarm your chest.
you were busy making sure your bag was closed and that you had all your things in it when you looked up and saw ghost step into the back of the vehicle.
you scurried to catch up, the last one as you climbed into the back. as you went to stand, the humvee took off, making you stumble and lose balance.
fuck , was the last thought you had as you felt yourself falling backward out of the vehicle. your arms flailed, trying to grab onto something, when a hand gripped your vest, yanking you forward and onto the humvee.
you looked up in relief to find ghost glaring at you. his hand was still tight around your tactical vest, the other men closest to the back were out of their seats in an effort to grab you. but of course, ghost got there first.
his eyes bore into your own, an odd wave of spite in them.
you knew it was your fault for dilly-dallying, but was he really going to be upset at you for almost falling out of the vehicle? it should cause more annoyance than anger, really.
you gulped and ghost released you, moving back to his seat. you stared after him until you felt soap touch your wrist. “sit,” he mumbled.
you focused on him instead of your lieutenant and sat in the empty seat beside soap.
you shifted your bag so it was on your lap, the men around you silent, all of them exhibiting a mix of disappointment in their mission and exhaustion.
you felt his eyes on you–something that seemed to happen a lot lately. you tried to resist, but you looked in his direction and met his gaze. you thought he’d look away, but he held you in a challenge across the truck. he still had all his gear on when most others had stripped some of theirs off.
he sat a bit forward, resting his arms on his knees as he glared at you.
you felt your heartbeat race and you felt like you might be sick with all the adrenaline running through you today–it couldn’t be healthy.
you finally coward away and looked down at your bag. a looming feeling coursed through your body. for whatever reason, the moment he pulled you into the truck felt like it was a breaking point for him. he was right back to hating you. despising everything you did. you felt yourself shrink in on yourself.
you never felt his eyes leave you the entire way back.
chapter 5 ➡
#ghost#simon riley#smut#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#ghost smut#simon riley smut#cod#ghost fanfic#simon riley fanfic#ghost call of duty#ghost angst#cod mw2#cod fic#call of duty fanfic#mw2 fanfic#beneath the mask
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Don't Be Shy | Konig x Reader
Kӧnig x TF141 x AFAB!Reader
PART ONE
Summary: Transferred against your will to a new task force to calm a troubled soldier, you felt way in over your head - especially when you came face to face with a 6'10" mountain of Austria.
18+ MINORS DNI!
t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, human trafficking, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).
2 / 3 / 4 / 5
You'd been the new kid on the block, over and over again.
Late to training, late into the 141, and now, late into Task Force KorTac with a very special, and very specific mission.
A mission that was built for you.
A mission that required the utmost professionalism.
A mission that required somehow pulling a 6’10” brick shithouse out of his own head and into a team - but you didn’t know that, yet.
Oh, and fuck, did you protest it. Over and over and over again. It had taken you months to settle with the 141 boys, and now you were being shipped off, away from your family.
“You’re really good at that, uh, the empathy shit.” Price had said, placing a warming hand on your shoulder.
“I’m a soldier, Price. And you know how much I struggle around new people.” You spoke, the latter half of the sentence said in a hushed tone.
“Yes, but you’re good at, ya know, feeling." He replied, fingers lifted to place air quotes around the word, "You got Ghost to come out of his shell!”
At that moment, your lieutenant entered the room, making his way over at the mention of his callsign.
You rolled your eyes, “Okay, so send him! Lord knows he needs the practise.”
“Watch ya mouth, little one.” Ghost said, stepping next to you.
“Just because you’re a foot taller than me does not mean you get to bully me for it, Simon.”
Despite what people thought about the giant, skull-mask-wearing man, he was soft and caring; the relationship you had built together was that of siblings, and he had your back more than any ordinary brother would.
Ghost’s eyes were dark under his mask, but you knew he was smirking, “Not my fault you’re a short arse.”
“Yet I’m still a better sniper than you.”
“No, you bloody well aren’t-”
“Children! Please…” Price interrupted the sibling-like bickering; fingers pinched on the bridge of his nose. “If we could focus on the task at hand?”
Ghost poked your side, mumbling, “Yeah, (Y/L/N), focus on your task.”
“Go have Soap suck your dick some more, sounds like you need to relax.” You mumbled back.
Your retort had Ghost choking, the sharp intake of air he made as his head whipped to look at you causing him to cough relentlessly. Price shook his head, waving him off to sort himself out.
It wasn’t exactly a secret within the team that there was something a little less savoury going on with your lieutenant and Sergeant MacTavish, especially when the latter would constantly confide in you about his crush.
Especially, after what had happened with Hassan and the missiles.
But, thanks to your meddling, you had been able to get Ghost to open up, and it seemed like the two were much happier.
Not that you’d dare make a comment about it in front of anyone but Price and Ghost himself.
You valued your life, thank you very much.
And as much as Ghost loved you like a sister; he would absolutely kill you.
As Ghost walked away, you shot him the sweetest smile you could muster, resulting in him throwing you the finger.
“Look, you’re the only one I think can get through to him, kid. The task force needs you.” Price continued.
“I applied to be here, sir. I worked damn hard to make it onto the 141.”
He sat you down, taking your hands in his, “This isn’t permanent. I promise, we’ll be here waiting when ya get back, because I want to work with this guy. He’s bloody good, so I need you to make sure he can play well with others."
You sighed heavily, the weight of responsibility and leaving your family crushing your shoulders, "And you are my best sniper., Karma.”
Price had whispered that last part, for your ears only, a smirk across his bearded lips. You smiled widely, a giggle falling from your mouth.
It felt good to get that recognition from your superior.
He wasn’t wrong; the reason you made it onto the 141 in the first place was your incredible skill as a marksman…well, markswoman. You’d earned the call sign Karma from Soap, who watched you in a training drill he ran.
You’d been perched up high, completely hidden, and any enemy that your team missed in combat, you cleaned up, never missing a shot. Like the saying goes, if you can’t get ‘em, karma will.
It was also suitable for those who underestimated you. Every person you’d gone up against in hand-to-hand training doubted your abilities due to your smaller frame, but fuck, did you prove them wrong every time.
Broken noses here.
Fractured limbs there.
You were Karma, and no one messed with you.
“So, think you can do this for me?” Price said.
“Affirmative, sir.”
“That’s my girl.”
With that, you walked, albeit with a little sadness, back to your quarters, packing a duffle of your things. Price had said you’d only be away for a couple of months tops, depending on how the mission went.
At the car, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and the rest of the 141 were there to say goodbye, all of them giving you a squeeze as they wrapped you in their arms.
“You be good, alright?” Ghost had whispered in your ear, “See you when ya come home.”
“It almost sounds like you’re gonna miss me, Lt.” You quipped, and he rolled his eyes.
“I’m sure you’d like to believe that.”
“He’ll miss ye, bonnie.” Soap cut in, lifting you off the ground, “As will I. Don’t forget me in the excitement of the big bad KorTac boys, will ya?”
“I could never, Soap. You’re my number one!”
With one final wave and various counts of love you’s, you were stuffed into the car with Price and Laswell, the two of them escorting you personally.
Your heart hung low as your team got smaller and smaller behind you, but you were honoured to have been sought out by another team.
KorTac.
Didn’t quite have the same ring to it as 141, but it’d do.
The journey was short from the training camp in London, as you were dropped off at Heathrow, where a private chopper awaited you. From there, you were shipped off to a covert facility in the mountains of Hungary.
The scenery was beautiful, but your nerves bubbled up inside you.
With a silent nudge from the pilot, you were shoved out of the chopper, greeted by several members of your new team.
“Sergeant (Y/L/N), yes?” the man said, a heavy Hungarian accent lacing his words.
“Uh, yeah, that’s me. Sergeant (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” You stuck your hand out, “But you can call me Karma, whatever suits.”
“Fender.” the man said, shaking your hand, “I run things here at KorTac. This is my second in command, Roze.”
A woman stepped forward from behind him, also taking your hand in hers, “We’re honoured to have you here, Karma. Heard a lot about you.”
“Well, I’m honoured that you guys wanted me.”
The pleasantries continued until you were being guided to their facilities, being allowed to drop off your bags before rushing to the tactical room, where the rest of the team was waiting for your arrival.
You were introduced swiftly, barely remembering anyone’s names before you were guided once again to another place, ending up in Fender’s office. He offered you a seat, sitting opposite at his desk.
“So, what exactly did Captain Price tell you of your purpose here?”
“Not a lot, really. He mentioned that I was needed because you have a soldier here that needs…help? And that there was a mission coming that required my particular skill.”
“Ahh, yes. That would be Kӧnig…” he sighed, pulling out a file and dropping it in front of you.
You opened the file, to find a picture of a man, a sniper hood that you recognised adorning his face. Scanning the information, you found that he was Austrian, joining the task force here through the KSK, basically being used as a front man for the teams on-ground.
“Kӧnig has…issues. He came here wanting to be a sniper, but, as you’ll see when you meet him, his physical attributes do not allow it. He didn’t take that well, but he excels as part of the contact team.”
“So, what exactly is the problem?”
Fender sighed, leaning forward in his chair, “He seems to have some problems with anxiety. I was informed that you used to suffer with such issues but were able to overcome them.”
You scoffed a little, “So, I’m here to be a glorified babysitter?”
You felt bad for this Kӧnig.
You couldn’t imagine wanting nothing more than to be a sniper and then have it taken away from you because of your physicality.
That would fucking suck.
“We just need someone to calm him, teach him control. A lot of the other team members are so scared of him they can barely stand being in the same room.”
“Arseholes…” you whispered under your breath, “That’s hardly fair, sir. By the looks of things, he is an essential member of this team.”
“That maybe so, but I can’t have my soldiers acting that way off the field. Unfortunately, if you cannot help him, he will no longer be welcome on any task force.”
You shook your head in disbelief.
How fucking unfair.
Before you could say anything, the office door opened. You stood to greet Roze but gasped slightly at the giant shadow behind her.
Stood in front of you, was a complete mountain of a man.
He had to duck down considerably to make it through the doorframe. Every single inch of him was huge. Ghost used to make you feel intimidated and tiny, but this…this was fucking ridiculous. Kӧnig had to have been at least 6’10”, and the size of his muscles would put both Ghost and Soap to shame.
Truly, this was a big, big man.
Oh, you thought, the sniper hood stayed on?
“Ah, Kӧnig, there you are. Thank you, Roze, you may go.”
“Sir.” She nodded, smiling to you before leaving the room and shutting it behind her.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Kӧnig spoke, barely sparing you a glance as he addressed his superior. A thick accent tainted his English, but he was well-spoken.
Fender stood, moving around the desk to the two of you, “Yes. This is Karma, she’s the new addition to the team, and will be your new…partner, as such.”
“Uh, p-partner, sir?”
Fender nodded.
“Hi.” You spoke, a soft smile on your features as you stuck out your hand for him to shake. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you can call me (Y/N/N), or Karma, whatever you like really.”
Your hands shook from nervousness as you rambled on.
New people always made you anxious, but this…this was intense.
Was it the accent?
The sheer size of him?
You couldn’t tell if you were intimidated, anxious, or frankly, maybe even a little turned on.
“Kӧnig.” He grunted but refused to meet your hand.
It hung in the air for an embarrassing amount of time, causing you to clear your throat as you lowered it, heat rising to your cheeks.
Yeah, this guy’s people skills were shite.
“Uh, right. Pleasure to meet you.” You finally said in an effort to shake off the awkwardness.
With that, Fender led the two of you back out, and towards the training centre. As you passed various soldiers, many of them looked to you, whispering.
By now, stares and such were just water off a duck’s back for you. Being part of the infamous 141 always brought a lot of unwanted attention. But that didn’t mean it didn’t make you uncomfortable, nonetheless.
Kӧnig, on the other hand, walked slightly behind you and Fender, his eyes not leaving the back of your body. He was used to the stares and whispers, the team never failing to make him feel like a freak of nature on the daily.
But he didn’t care at this moment.
He was fascinated by you.
The bright pink slivers of colour that peaked out from beneath the rest of your hair intrigued him; he was sure that went against regulation. You were also so sweet and tiny, the sniper rifle strapped to your back was almost as big as you were.
So, you were a sniper.
Why the fuck would Fender pair him with a sniper? Like he didn’t get mocked enough!
And now here you were, walking around with your head held high, like you fucking owned the place.
His own personal fucking babysitter.
The more he looked at you, the more his heart filled with rage, gloved fists balling at his sides.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#task force 141#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost fanart#call of duty#cod mw oc#cod mw2#cod mwf2#callofduty#gaming#cod mw19#captain price#john mactavish#phillip graves#ghost x reader#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig x reader#cod konig#konig modern warfare
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A snippet from my Codywan Bodyswap!AU that I’m working on:
Obi-Wan grunts, blinking as he comes to. His vision swims before it snaps to a sudden clarity. All at once, he realizes three things that are very, very wrong.
First, and most worryingly, he cannot feel the Force as he normally does. He’s not completely cut off, but only just.
Second, he’s certain he was in his quarters when he dozed off. Now he finds himself in a rarely-used storage room deep in the Negotiator’s sublevels, where the men keep their homebrew that Obi-Wan definitely doesn’t know about. He’s slumped against a wall, with the majority of Ghost Company peering down at him in various states of confusion.
Third, is that he’s certain his men just called him Cody.
“What… ?” he starts, staring down at his cuisse-clad thighs. Frowning, he moves to trace a finger across the stripe of gold paint running across the right, only to blink down at a hand that isn’t his own.
Ah, Sith hells.
“I think you should come to medical,” he hears Scabs say, and Obi-Wan agrees, but first they’ll have to go find—
“Oh, Force, Cody— ”
He ignores the odd looks the troopers give him, the reality of the situation suddenly gripping him like a vice. Cody, thrust into his body, but his mind untrained and unused to sensing the living Force that surrounds them—
“Scabs, I need you to get a sedative and meet me at— at the General’s room,” he states as he fully gathers himself upright, adjusting for his new center of gravity.
His CMO blinks at him. “What— the General? What are you— ?”
“I’ll meet you there and explain, just, please. A sedative,” he manages, already opening the doors. He looks back for a split-second to see Scabs nod in affirmative, before rushing out of the storage room.
Unfortunately, his own quarters are entirely on the other side of the venator. He runs past a few troopers, who startle at his haste, but he just calls back an all clear and doesn’t stop running, he needs to get to Cody—
After what feels like a tenday on a blessedly empty turbo-lift, Obi-Wan finally makes it to his quarters. He punches in the override and the door slides open, revealing the exact sight he feared— his own body, hunched over on the floor, clutching his head as he shakes—
“Cody,” Obi-Wan says, kneeling beside him, and Cody jolts, staring up at him with trembling eyes.
“Vod?” he asks in Obi-Wan’s voice, before his eyes widen impossibly further when they land on the scar at his temple, his own scar. “What is— augh!”
Obi-Wan curses under his breath, catching Cody as his eyes roll back, body slacking. He pulls him into his lap, resting his head as gently as he can against his armored thighs.
“Cody, my dear, it’s me, it’s Obi-Wan,” he says, holding Cody’s quavering form as still as he can. “Just focus on me, focus on my voice, just my voice, right here, with you.”
“Can’t— ” Cody spits out, head shaking. “It’s too much, I can’t— ”
“Shh, I know, I know. I’m so sorry, just try for me, please? Just try, it’s just me and you here together, no one else, just us… ”
Obi-Wan keeps muttering what’s probably nonsense, but he needs to give Cody some sort of anchor, something to focus on instead of the thousands of living souls he can suddenly sense aboard the ship, something present and definite in the entirety of the Force that he’s now privy to.
Cody groans, pressing himself further into Obi-Wan’s lap. “Please, make it stop, make it stop— ”
“Cody— what happened to the General?!”
Obi-Wan looks up and sees Scabs in the doorway, and bites back a sigh of relief. He’s about to explain when his medic is suddenly kneeling by his side, shaking his head.
“Fuck— that machine, it worked, didn’t it?” he says, opening his supply bag.
“Yes, it did.” Why the effects were so delayed, Obi-Wan has no idea, but right now it doesn’t matter. “And Cody— he’s not used to how my body senses the Force, it’s too much for him all at once.”
“I understand,” Scabs states, prepping the sedative. “Hold him steady, please. Bare his neck.”
Obi-Wan does as he’s told, chest clenching as he stares at Cody’s unseeing eyes. It’s a terrible solace when Scabs injects the needle and seconds later, they fall shut.
#codywan#commander cody#obi wan kenobi#star wars#the clone wars#tcw#codywan fic#my fic#bodyswap au#scabs is my medic oc#meebles writes
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I really hope this isn't too weird... I saw a tweet recently talking about a trope of "Just the tip" porn where they promise they won't put it all the way in and then do.
Completely understand if this isn't something you're comfortable with! But I'd love a SoapGhost version (if you are cool, I might ask for other ships too)
Consent is dubious. Consent is shy. Consent is in the other room but they can kinda hear it.
Ghost was just fine with their current sex life. He gave Soap a blowjob or a handjob anytime Soap got hard. He'd think he'd would be happy about that. Unlimited pleasure with no need to give anything back.
But Soap was not. He was constantly begging Ghost to let him please him too. Ghost always brushed it off or insisted not right now.
Ghost was well aware if he actually told Soap no, he'd stop. He'd be upset, maybe a tiny bit of pouting, but he'd stop. Still, he let the little game continue.
Soap stopped mentioning it for a while. Funnily enough, he never sought Ghost out. If he really thought about it, all of their sexual encounters were initiated and started by Ghost. Ghost just didn't get off.
Soap had his fingers dug into Ghost's hair, panting and whimpering as he tried not to come yet while Ghost mused. His fingers were working him open.
In all honestly, he hadn't had sex in years. After Roba, he barely had a will to touch himself, let alone allow anyone else to touch him and see him so vulnerable. It took him this long to be able to do this. In his opinion Soap should be grateful instead of greedy.
Though, that wasn't fair. Soap hadn't even seen Ghost fully undressed.
Johnny sobbed as he came, throwing his head back. Ghost kept his legs open so he could keep going for another minute before puling away.
Soap groaned softly and his hips jerked. He looked down just fast enough to watch Ghost swallow.
"Fuck, Simon. Finally going to let me return the favor?"
"Nah." Ghost stood up.
Soap looked a tiny bit defeated before looking at the bulge in Ghost's pants. Quietly, he leaned forward, mouthing at him. "Don't you want something?"
Ghost felt his cock twitch. It was a pretty picture. But he grabbed his mohawk and yanked his head away. "Maybe later."
Soap made a sinful fucking sound. He ran his tongue along the bulge in Ghost's pants. "Thank you so much, Si." Ghost wanted to think it was his excellent head giving that he was thinking him for but it was instead the idea of later.
He just didn't get the big deal.
Ghost finally gave in though. As he always did when it was something Soap wanted. He found himself surprisingly less comfortable than he expected, but he only gave off confidence, refusing to have Soap seeing him anything but. The idea of Soap finding him weak was nauseating. He didn't want to mess up.
Soap didn't know yet that Ghost was going to give in that, so he started up on it. "If we did fuck, who would top and who would bottom?"
"Don't know."
"Guess we'll have to go by dick size. You know, its completely fine if you're smaller than me. Won't think any less of you." Ghost could tell it was supposed to be a joke but also reassurance. He rolled his eyes as he looked through his drawers for new boxers for Soap.
Soap sighed. "Simon, come on. It's not fair."
"To me?" Ghost unzipped his pants, being silent so he wouldn't know.
"To me! I like helping. I don't get why you're...." Soap trailed off. "ah..."
Ghost was big. He was well aware. Judging by the look on Soap's face, Johnny hadn't thought of that yet. "There. I'd top."
Soap nodded. "I can... use my hand?"
"Where did all that bravado go? Huh? Suddenly get nervous?"
Soap laughed nervously, proving Ghost's words. "Listen.... sure I can't top?"
"Your rules." Ghost started to fix his pants again, going back to his original idea of finger Soap until he came from that. He could let Soap think about it for a few da-
"Wait... I could blow you?"
"Soap, need you speaking the next few days. I've seen the way you handle fingers." Ghost rolled his shoulders. "We don't have to do this."
Soap groaned. "You have too much self control when it comes to sex."
"I get you off and then we can move on."
Soap swallowed and looked at Ghost's cock again. Ghost could see the wheels in his brain moving. He chewed his lip and it was already clear he wouldn't let this go until he got Ghost off.
"What if I promise to just put the tip in?" Ghost asked, curious on if he'd even go for it.
Soap thought about it. He wanted to please Ghost so much. "Yeah. Just the tip. Promise just the tip?"
Ghost laughed. "Yes. Just the tip. I promise." He doubted he'd have that big of an issue with it.
Soap was already prepped which is perfect. He laid back down and let Ghost get on top of him. Slowly, Ghost positioned himself. At this point, he was praying to himself that he wouldn't come immediately. It was definitely a possibility. Gently, he started to push in, feeling the tight walls around his cock.
Ghost hear the whine that came out of him and his eyes rolled back. It felt so good. He forgot how good it felt.
Soap groaned and clenched hard. "Fuck. You're so big. Feel nice?"
Ghost bit his lip to try to shut up and just nodded. This was so much better than he remembered. Soap always wanted more... It wouldn't hurt.
"Ghost? Wha-"
Ghost pushed in more, moaning properly. He whimpered. "Don't make me pull out, fuck, please don't make me pull out."
Soap panted. "Fuck, fucking hell. You're so big. How do you even...." He clenched hard and gasped for air. "I don't think I can fit it."
Ghost started to rock his hips. This is what he had been telling Soap no over? He started to work himself in deeper as Soap continued making sinful noises.
"Si, Simon, Simon." Soap bit his pillow and let Ghost keep going. He started to thrust in with no abandon, hearing Soap's noises being swallowed.
Ghost kept pushing. He knew Soap would tell him to stop if he actually wanted to. That's how they worked.
Ghost moaned when he finally bottomed out. "Fucking hell, Johnny." He panted softly as he started to fuck him. He never wanted to pull out. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
Soap arched his back and let him keep going. Ghost heard, and felt, him come around him. He finished and came inside him.
Soap fell into the sheets and whimpered as Ghost pulled out. His hole gaped and Ghost groaned.
"Sorry."
Soap panted softly. "Don't worry about it. You can do it again, any time. I promise."
Ghost nodded and groped his ass. "I didn't mean to be so rough with you."
Soap moaned and pushed back against him. "Felt so good. So good." He relaxed into the pillows. "You got off right?"
"Yes, Johnny. Sorry for not asking."
"I loved it. Don't even worry."
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#call of duty modern warfare ii#cod mw2#ghostsoap#cod#soapghost#ghoap
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So a couple more half asleep random thoughts on my latest DP AU where Danny accidentally calls CW dad and then no one believes he’s not actually his dad (Link here)
Mainly Fright Knight. He hears Phantom called CW father and he starts thinking about kid running into fights with the odds stacked against him, ridiculously stubborn and noble, completely protective over the land he’s claimed to protect and winning through determination and force of will and suddenly is remembering what Pariah was like when he was younger and before the madness took hold and is 1000% sure Danny is Pariah and CW’s biological kid no one will convince him otherwise and after his mini breakdown that he literally tried to kill his prince he decides it is his duty to protect Phantom at all costs. He shows up and swears fealty to him and Danny is just like ‘wtf wtf wtf’ and tries explaining that he called Clockwork dad on accident and oh god he’s embarrassed enough about calling his sort of mentor dad but
Danny: Look Clockwork is not my dad and Pariah definitely isn’t
Fright Knight: Yes they are
Danny:...I-what no no they are not
Fright Knight: They most definitely are my prince
Danny:...
It’s a lost cause trying to explain they’re not Clockwork has shown the ancients the actual timeline they still don’t believe him.
Fright knight is not only super protective of Danny, Dash literally doesn't know what him but he ended up though a wall last time he tried to mess with Danny (Danny is torn between fuck you almost killed him and fuck that was amazing) but also very concerned about the future ghost kings education he finds out Danny is struggling and goes apeshit in the ghost zone like ‘ALL OF YOU WILL STAY ON THIS SIDE OF THE PORTAL OUR FUTURE KING NEEDS TO DO CALCULUS’ he also is deeply concerned his prince does not know about ghost zone lore so Danny ends up getting ghost history lessons....Jazz gatecrashes them, she is taking all the notes (She’s also heard about Pariah and CW relationship and is very invested)
Also he starts teaching Danny more fighting and Danny wants to argue and should be trying to convince everyone he’s not the ghost zone prince...but he’s sword lessons and it’s super cool.
He’s kinda just getting used to that when the ancients show up with presents to see their Nephew. Danny feels super awkward and is just very glad Jack and Maddie are still in the basement having an existential crisis and looking over all their life's work to busy to come upstairs and see all of the most powerful ancient ghosts of the infinite realms having tea around the table.... at least he gets to hear embarrassing stories about Pariah and Clockwork.
Clockwork shows up as well Danny is awkward as hell around him at first because haven’t really interacted since he pulled the ultimate accidentally calling your teacher dad move.
CW: I wouldn’t bother trying to keep explaining it to them Daniel just accept fate
Danny:...uh why is it for the best timeline
CW:No. They’re just to stubborn to accept anything else.
CW: In all timelines all trying to explain does is lead to a headache
He also not so subtly says that well he also sees Danny as a son and that he wouldn’t mind having that bond... it’s the weirdest most roundabout way to adopt someone.
Pariah shows up and instead of the dramatic reunion he and CW slide just into how they were before Pariah went crazy aka the most mushy romantic couple of all time, like able to kill you with a thought but to busy getting lost in each others eyes to think about it.
The observants are actually super happy Pariah is back because they totally shipped it they spent centuries observing these twos ridiculous pinning and romance and then Pariah went crazy and sunk their ship and so they are super happy to have their ship back they are sitting back watching eating popcorn watching this surprise child plot twist gasping and with their own cork board of conspiracies like ‘OMG THAT’S WHY CLOCKWORK SAVED HIM YES DOTS CONNECTED’
Bonus: Vlad bursts in to do evil plan he’s been plotting and... there is the fight Knight all the ancients, Clockwork and Pariah all just sitting there...he just very slowly walks backwards out of the house...Fright Knight still tracks him down and kicks his ass.
Bonus bouns: Dani. The zones find about Dani and lose their minds more nobody even questions how they could have 2 kids of different ages at all, they’re all like you control time weird shit happens but for sure that’s your kid.
Vlad: I made them that’s a clone of Daniel
Ghost Zone: ha right nah that’s Pariah and Clockworks kid
Vlad*Eye twitching*
Dani finds herself scooped up by Fight knight calling her the princess of the ghost zone and that her fathers have been looking for her and she’s confused but also like...ok and just rolls with it.
#danny phantom#dp#dp au#au#fic prompt#dad clockwork#dp dark ages#dark ages#dp lost time#lost time#danny fenton#clockwork#fright knight#pariah dark#pariah dark x clockwork#dani phantom#dp royal family#humor#dp ancients#i am just amusing myself at this point
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FWB!Ghost x GN Reader x pastHookup!Konig
Tags: Hookup,semi public sex, regret, angst, yelling, ginger konig, konig doesn't wear his mask constantly like ghost (Only on the field), vulnerability , crying, arguments,no beta we die like men
Part: 1 - 2
A/n: I finally finished this on two days of no sleep and a missing beta reader. Hope guys enjoy the tad bit of spice at the beginning and as needed 18+.
Seeing the head of ginger hair standing out not only cause of its color but because it belonged to the tallest person in the room, filled your stomach with stones.
The memory of the familiar face shot through your mind like a bolt of lighting igniting your nerves as you tensed next to your teammates.
You were all shipped up and sent to a warehouse a couple of weeks after finding out you’d be working with kortac.
Having arrived days before they had you were granted time to stop for a drink with johnny and kyle. Price didnt join claiming he wanted to be prepared and if price isn't coming neither did ghost much to your benefit.
Maybe if he had come you would be piss drunk with the team probably getting dragged back to the warehouse by the man himself, instead you were barely tipsy with your cheek pressed into the leather seating of a stranger's car.
His broad chest rubbing against your back with each harsh thrust, the car surely visibly shaking on the outside.
You dont even have to guess how fucked you would be if he remembered you and decided to ope his mouth.
You cross your arms over your chest and lean against one of the metal support beams that the building had an abundance of.
Despite your wishful thinking the red headed man's eyes fell on you and you knew he knew.
You were quick to notice the slight quirk in his lip before going stoned face once more.
He introduced himself as “konig” before introducing the rest of his team, his eyes occasionally flicking over to you.
“Fuck sake, this guys huge.” Kyle whispered to you coming around to your side.
Kyle had no idea how true his words were, the phantom feeling of being filled by Konig's thick cock.
You nod in acknowledgement to what Kyle says letting out a sigh, “Laswell described him as a battering ram, yeah” you say.
You don't fail to notice the way Konig eyes you up every chance he gets like he had done in the bar nights prior. When you saw him in the bar he was far more blatant with his staring, his interest apparent as he shifted his stance debating on whether to approach you or not.
Rubbing the sweat built from nervousness off his palms and onto the tight cargo pants he wore he finally came over when the boys were getting another round of drinks to approach you.
The conversation between you two was short as you both seemed to have the same goal in mind: get laid.
After Simon you hadn't slept with anyone else but it was a welcomed gift to feel wanted again.
Konig was definitely someone you found attractive, you wouldn't have had breathy moans pulled from your throat in the back of his car if he wasn't.
But he wasn't simon.
A small piece of you felt guilty while the rest was saying fuck it, ghost ditched you not the other way around.
You mentally return to the conversation when you hear your name being said, you realize price is introducing the team and you give a small acknowledgement, your fingers twitching at your hip.
“Oh, I’m familiar.” König responds to your introduction with quick ease causing your teammates eyes to fall on you. Johnny gave you a knowing look of mischief, his bright blues having seen you with the man before you disappeared from the group.
“Just a brief meeting in a bar, unfortunately I did not stay long enough to meet the rest of you.” He clarifies noticing your subtle glare.
The encounter was anything but brief, you thought to yourself as the conversation was then drawn off of you.
It’s wasn’t until later that you bumped into the behemoth of a man.
“You were so vocal a few nights ago now you walk around quiet as a mouse.” He comments a smirk playing on his uncovered lips.
“You pester all your random hookups?” You retort your lips stretching into a thin line as you looked up at him.
“Just the ones I have to work with, mein Freundin.“ he chuckles ignoring your unamused expression.
“Well if that’s all I’ll be going.” You sigh not wanting to get involved any further.
But as you pass his hand grips your wrist and suddenly your back in front of him with his other hand at your chin.
He forces your head to the side and a smirk comes to his lips as he looks at the newly exposed skin .
“So schön, sie sind wie eine Blume .” And then he’s gone and already halfway down the hallway by the time you gather yourself.
Ghost walking down the opposite side of the hallway having seen the interaction from a distance. His eyes arrow on you and then the retreating redhead.
You let out a huff of frustration when you see him and reluctantly start walking in his direction.
“You two seem close, got anything you want to share?” He questioned you his tone accusatory. After weeks of barely speaking to you he breaks the silence to ask about a personal situation.
“It doesn’t concern you lieutenant.” Your quick to respond but he doesn’t want to take that answer.
“It’s concerns me when it’s involves an enemy and You.” He grumbled crossing his arms over his chest.
“Why do I concern you Ghost? I’m just someone you used to use so fuck off cause I already know what your thinking.” The words come out harsher and more bitter than what you intended. Your frustration and resentment to the man you wish you didn’t love coming out almost full force.
Ghost stiffened at your words, his jaw and fists clenching as you brushed past him.
Once he could no longer hear your steps his entire body deflated his shoulders feeling heavy with shame.
He was being unfair to you and he hated himself for it but he felt so selfishly it was hard to stop.
Ghost adjusted his mask and shook off the guilty feeling that loomed over him before continuing down his path.
You could feel your skin buzzing with irritation, your palms stinging from being squeezed into tight fists. Why did he have to make everything in your life harder every time?
No matter how many steps you take away, ghost manages to still be right on your tail. You found yourself spacing for the rest of the day until your sat across from the same person you didn't want to see again that day.
Ghost sat across from you staring you down as you ate the unappetizing food served in mess.
His gaze was unrelenting; he looked as if he was aching to say something but stopped himself instead opting to tap his finger on the edge of his empty plate idley.
“Y’think Lt’s mad at ye?” Johnny questions quietly from his place beside you. You narrow your eyes at the sergeant, “Why would he be?”
Johnny had this look on his face like he did something he wasn't supposed to as he clicked his teeth and shifted awkwardly in his seat.
“He asked aboot whit we were up to at the pub, an i think i might ‘ave talked ye into some trouble.” he confessed glancing over at simon who was still boring holes into the side of your head.
You didn't have time to retaliate against your teammate for his loose lips before simon was standing from his seat arms crossed. “We need to talk, now.” His tone was sharp, his words spoken in that usual gruff manchester accent.
You sucked your teeth and agreed not wanting to make a scene in the mess hall, mentally you vowed to eventually get johnny back for damning you.
After leaving mess ghost lead you to an unoccupied meeting room shutting the door behind the both of you.
“Looks like you got a type.” Ghost started leaning against the door with his arms crossed.
“Don’t fucking start with me ghost, what i do outside of work is none of your damn business.” you hiss plopping down on one of the many chairs in the room.
“Don't tell me it's not my business when you have a drawer of shit at my apartment.” he retorted, his eyes narrowing on you. His body was tense and his shoulders squared like he needed to move but wouldn't allow himself to.
You could feel your eyes burn as your frustration grew, your fists clenching and unclenching.
“You can throw all the shit away, i don't even know why you still even have it.” you mutter looking down at ghost’s shoes avoiding his glare.
“I kept them because i ca-” you cut ghost off before he could say anymore, “Dont you dare fucking do that to me simon!” you snap meeting his glare with glazed eyes.
Standing from the seat you approached Simon's further tensing figure. “You're a jackass, Simon, y’know why? Because i told you how i fucking felt and you fucking left. Now im living my adult life and you want to act like im your fucking girlfriend or something, let me move on!” you were borderline shouting the frustration bleeding out of your eyes and into your voice.
Simon couldnt hold your gaze anymore he couldn't stand that look in your eyes or the dampness of your cheeks. He could feel the words crawling into the back of his throat but none of them were the right thing.
What could he say to fix this, what could he do when your fury spoke so loudly that he wanted to shrink away.
“I…” he took a breath “Im sorry” his arms hung loosely by his side, fingers tapping rapidly at his palm.
“Sorry doesnt change the fact that you left, then treated me like nothing, and ar now trying to grill me about my sex life when you removed yourself from all of my personal life.”
You wiped your face as your tone came down, the short burst of aggression dying down with it.
“I'm tired simon, I devoted so much to you for so long for it all to end because you cant figure yourself out.” You bring your eye’s down to the ground again before back up at simon.
“You’ve had years of us playing this cat and mouse game, if your still confused, if your still unsure, if you don't want…” Your eyebrows pinch together as you clench your jaw.
“If you don't want me, then why are you here? Why are we even having this conversation if your actions speak your truth, because that's all I have to go off of?” Your question struck Simon and his breath caught in his throat.
He rubbed his face over the mask, the feeling of the fabric suddenly becoming so suffocating.
The rough material rubbed uncomfortably on his skin as he pulled it off his chapped lips parting for a heavy breath.
He disheveled with his messy blonde hair and eye bags that seemed deeper than usual.
“You’ve ruined everything for me…” he starts your eyebrows furrowing at his words.
“Everything in my life is so fucking mixed with yours and i can let it go. I thought avoiding you would help make you leave every piece of my being but it just made it worse. You know what happened to my family, and i dont want to use that as an excuse but im fucking terrified of seeing you in my nightmares.” Simon's lips are drawn into a thin line and his body slumps into the wall, his shoulders dropping.
“I know im an arse and big fucking mess and selfish as all hell, but i feel different for you and i dont know what to do with it.” his shaky hands clasped together in front of him.
“You have no idea how many times we’ve been together and i just wanted to have all of you, how many futures that have lingered in my mind over our years together. I want you for the rest of my life but I don't know how long that life will even be.” simon looks to you with a tired sigh.
You feel frozen in your spot the bitterness and frustration in your chest deflating into an equal exhaustion.
“Where do we go from here simon? I love you and I've loved you for over a decade but I can't keep going if you’re going to take years to tell me what you want.” You say stuffing your hands into your pockets unsure what to do with them.
“I like who i am around you, and i dont want to loose one of the only good things left in my life cause im being fucking daft. Am I too late?” his tone was soft almost a whisper. It felt so uncharacteristic for a man like simon ‘ghost’ riley to say something like this, to speak so softly and seem so nervous. You almost felt unsure about how genuine his words were but his glazed eyes had crushed your doubt.
Bringing your hands from your pockets you hesitantly grabbed simons hands before pulling them around you. He immediately melted into the hug, his hands gripping at you as if you'd disappear if he didn't hold you so tightly.
You could feel his relief as you held onto him his shaky breath evening out and his muscles going almost lax.
“We can try again.”
[Good ending] :)
#call of duty#cod mw2#call of duty fanfic#fanfic#call of duty modern warfare#john soap mactavish#cod angst#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley#john price cod#konig cod#konig x reader#call of duty smut#no beta we die like men#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x gender neutral reader#simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader#simon ghost x you#konig smut#konig call of duty#konig mw2#call of duty angst#angst with a happy ending#good ending#john price call of duty#call of dooty#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader
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based on the addition of this because i think it’s silly
-
It didn’t look my different from the other tapes, and that’s about as far as Ghost’s defence goes.
Dated and labelled accordingly as is every other tape in the box Ghost had unearthed while digging through his old things, he hardly thinks to be deterred by something titled Tommy’s wedding—it sounds perfectly normal, a happy glimpse into a life Ghost misses dearly from time to time, and he doesn’t see why he shouldn’t show Soap what had been recorded of a great memory.
The tapes were the only way Soap would ever get to know the Riley family, and Ghost supposes the wedding would be the perfect captured moment.
Except, whoever penned the label on the VHS thought it’d be real funny to betray the organization system just to play some practical joke on whoever decided to put the tape into the player more than a decade down the line.
Normally, Ghost might blame Tommy—but once the incriminating footage begins to play, the fault is obviously on Beth, because no one else would have ever had the need to see this tape in particular.
Soap immediately curls back into Ghost’s side as he returns to the couch, content to watch as he had all the other tapes Ghost had decided to show—a gentle fondness is inscribed into his expression as grainy chatter fills the space, a soft smile on his lips as a camera is shakily—and stealthily—set up in one of Tommy’s old mate’s living rooms.
Ghost frowns. Because distantly he recognizes the scene as Tommy’s stag, and not at all the wedding.
Though, he supposes, to lend credit—the precursor, ceremony, and reception could very well all just be mashed onto one tape. It’s what Ghost presumes, anyway, until he hears playful jeering and the clunky click of someone pressing play on a CD player.
It happens too fast, and realization comes much too slow as Tommy and a younger Simon appear just off-centre of the screen, entirely unaware of the camera pointed at them. Simon hears the first notes of the song and scrambles for the remote—only to find that Soap is holding it out of his reach, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he seems to come to some sort of revelation, too.
Ghost narrows his eyes. Commands, voice low, “Pause it, Johnny.”
Soap grins. “Don’t think so.”
It’s too late, anyhow.
Ghost is well and truly fucked as the Spice Girls’ Wannabe filters through his TV’s speakers. He’s never been so mortified.
He wishes he could melt into the couch along with his shame, watching his brother and younger self dance to the song in the same way they’d choreographed when the thing first came out. As stupidly drunk as they were at the time of the video playing on screen, Ghost is surprised they remembered any of it at all.
Any being too much, of course.
Soap only pauses when the song comes to an end, looking to Ghost expectantly, biting his cheek to surely keep from bursting into laughter then and there.
Ghost refuses to look him in the eye.
“We were pissed,” Ghost grumbles. “Bachelor party.”
“You still remember the dance?” Soap goads.
Ghost turns to glare at him. “Johnny.”
“What?” Soap’s face twitches. “Just a question. Of which you didn’t answer.”
Ghost folds his arms petulantly across his chest. How he wishes Beth were still around so he could get revenge for this embarrassing incident. Beyond embarrassing, really.
“No, I don’t.” Yes, he does. “A word of this to anyone and you’re dead, Tav.”
“Aw.” Soap folds back into Ghost’s side, and Ghost could never deny the way he softens, even if just a bit. Soap trails a palm from Ghost’s bicep to his forearm, almost soothing if his only intention wasn’t to tease. “You don’t mean tha’.”
“I do,” Ghost insists, but really, he’s always been a bad liar.
Soap shakes his head. “Nah,” he sighs. “But… I won’t tell anyone, swear. So long as I get to see you do that dance—otherwise this tape is getting rewound and shipped to Gaz with the VCR.”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
“Mhm,” Soap hums. “But only out of love, see.”
Ghost rolls his eyes. He plucks the remote from Soap’s hand and presses stop, not wanting to risk any more condemning footage appear. Perhaps he’ll have to start going through these tapes by himself first, from now on.
“Well, out of love I’ll let you live. How’s that?”
Soap smiles up at him, reaching up an arm to pat Ghost’s cheek twice. “Might be able to convince me.”
Ghost huffs. Convince he must, then.
He knows Beth and Tommy would’ve found this hilarious, the pricks.
In another life, he supposes.
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Top Gun: Fenton - Chpt 1 (Teaser)
Bout time I put this one out here. Will be up on Ao3 in the next 2 weeks!
The thing about plummeting 20,000ft through the air in the middle of the night – if you realise it's a bad idea halfway down, it's already too late.
“Holy sh*t!”
Admittedly, not one of Danny’s favourite ways to wake up.
He could barely right himself as he plummeted through the dark sky in a mess of flailing limbs and flapping NASA pyjama pants. Obviously not his best look, but it wasn’t like he was prepared to wake up falling out of the sky. In fact, it wasn’t something he’d ever had to actually deal with considering he tended to defy gravity majority of the time anyway.
Convenient, when it works, he thought saltily, still trying and failing to trigger any reciprocation from his core. Since when was he having power malfunctions? It was like he was fourteen all over again, turning his pants intangible in the school hallway. Puberty, ew.
Danny’s lanky body flipped and folded uncontrollably like a sheet in the wind, while compressed air screamed past his ears and pulled at the skin of his face, drying out his mouth and grabbing at his eyelids painfully. How could anyone do this for fun, ever?
Honestly, he’d pretty much accepted at this point that whatever was going on, this wasn't his fault. The last thing he remembered was falling into bed next to Sam post online doom sesh with Tucker and completely checking out of the world of consciousness – because yes he could do that now, three cheers for retirement! So, unless he could somehow teleport in his sleep, this was completely out of his control. Which was unsettling, but at least it was some comfort that he could blame someone else for once.
A chill nipped at his arms as he plunged through more cloud cover, only this time, instead of more dark and gloom, he broke through to come face to face with perhaps the most menacing skyline he’d ever seen.
Brutal skyscrapers stood like gods, towering over a city swathed in smog and pollution. Plumes of smoke drifted skywards, drifting past keeling cranes and breathing onto low flying aircraft weaving dangerously between high rises.
Oh he was so not in Washington anymore.
His eyes followed smatterings of dim light that illuminated bustling roads and jagged bridges, stooping down into a shadowy harbour, dotted with resting ships bobbing in dark water. The very same water which loomed ominously below him. Danny’s eyes widened as the still, murky harbour water rushed at him, and he tried uselessly to grasp any part of his half dead self. Head-on collision in ten, nine, eight….
He managed to swivel feet first, throwing his legs out like a spring to displace the water. Not that it helped. It was like hitting fucking concrete. His legs cracked sickeningly on impact and the icy harbour water engulfed him.
As he sunk down, a horrible scenario flashed through his mind; his body filled with water, sinking to the bottom of this strange harbour in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, never to be found again. His only memory; a segment on buzzfeed unsolved.
Naturally, Danny panicked. He floundered on the surface, splashing around with only arms to keep him afloat and the dreaded possibility that he’d just broken both legs. He sucked in salty water through his nose, and choked it down his throat as the dead-weight of his legs dragged him under.
Sam, the house and the $20 in my wallet are yours. The console goes to Tucker – but I’ll never forgive you if you don’t put him through the blazing trials of hell to earn it.
Miraculously, it was then that he felt that familiar weightlessness settle over him, and without a second thought, he launched himself skyward blindly – just far enough to miss the rest of the harbour and crash ragdoll style onto the wooden jetty.
Rolling to a stop on his back, Danny groaned, chest heaving for oxygen he didn't need. His legs were on fire, but at least that was better than numb – c’mon freaky ghost powers do your thing already. All he wanted was to lie there and pass out. But that would just be too convenient.
The red and blue lights of justice flashed against the white undersides of the expensive moored boats lining the jetting, and the squeal of rubber tires on tarmac had Danny cursing under his breath. Too fucking perfect.
Car doors slammed, two of them, and the hurried thumping of boots on the flimsy wooden jetty vibrated against his back. Closest he’d get to a massage probably.
“Hey!”
Danny sighed and closed his eyes, so it begins.
The first cop was by his side in seconds, sliding to his knees at Danny’s shoulder. “Please, please don't be dead,” The guy mumbled to himself, clearly young by the tone, fiddling with his utility belt for what Danny could only guess was a pair of gloves. “Not another one. Not more paperwork.”
“Your lucky day” Danny wheezed out a laugh, forcing his eyes back open enough to give the poor traumatised dude some clarity. “Still kicking.”
“Crap!” The cop startled, falling back on his heels, probably having already convinced himself that Danny was dead. He couldn't blame the guy, good intuition. “You scared the socks off me dude!” He put a hand to his chest, “But thank god for that.”
“Ha.” Danny exhaled exhaustedly. The Officers silver name badge read ‘Det. Grayson’, but his face was young, a year or two older than Danny, he guessed, somewhere around twenty three or four – definitely too young to be a detective. Black hair peaked out from underneath Detective Graysons cap, hanging above blue eyes eerily similar to his own. They roved over Danny’s beaten face and body with the same critical gaze Jazz had been giving him for years. Oh yeah, oldest sibling for sure – out in the wild.
The assessment halted at his legs, “God, your…”
The second cop, Graysons partner, sidled up then, measly first aid kit in one hand and a flashlight in the other. He was an older man, stubby, with a crooked moustache, wide face and a badge that read ‘Const. Marshall’. “What’ve we got Grayson? Another body – holy christ!”
Constable Marshall staggered a few steps, when his flashlight illuminated Danny’s tattered legs. “Oh hell no. That’s bone! I see bone!”
“Marshall!” Grayson scolded in a harsh whisper, ripping away the first aid kit.
Danny cringed. So much for being calm in front of a patient. His legs must be pretty gruesome then. It wasn’t worrying, not when he could already feel the burning sensation of his ectoplasm trying to cinch them back together. Except, that was just the problem.
He gritted his teeth. Please stop healing.
“Sorry about him,” Grayson mumbled, calmly reaching into the first aid kit for some intense looking bandages, “I’m Detective Grayson, and that’s Constable Marshall. We’re with Bluhaven PD, but we’re working with Gotham City at the moment. What’s your name?”
Danny’s stomach dropped. “We’re in Gotham?”
“Gotham harbour specifically.” Detective Graysons brow furrowed. “Did you hit your head at all?”
“No–I, um…” What in the hell was going on? “– sorry, I’m Danny.”
The Detective's eyes were wary, but he hid it well with an awkward smile. “Well it’s nice to meet you Danny. Although, not the best circumstances, I’m sure.”
Danny chuckled breathily, mind spinning. “Tell me about it.”
“What in the hell happened?” Constable Marshall asked, white as a sheet and looking all the more like he was about to regurgitate his dinner into the harbour. “I’m calling an ambulance.”
Danny’s heart jumped to his throat. “Oh no really – you don't have to, I’m fine, I’ll just–”
“No time. We’ll take him with us” Grayson interrupted, tying off bandages around Danny’s legs to stem the bleeding. “Marshall, help me get him up”
Danny let out a very manly whine as both men gripped him under the arms and carefully lifted his battered body to a standing position. His vision spun, and he wobbled dangerously, because obviously standing on two broken legs wasn’t going to provide much stability. The younger of the two cops was quick to duck under his shoulders and lift the weight off, whilst the Constable on the other side took a second longer to follow his example. So much for seniority.
“Danny, how are you going buddy? You with us?” Grayson asked, the epitome of calm, but Danny really couldn't give him an answer right now. He continued, “We’re going to get you over to the car okay? And then we’ll go straight to the hospital.”
“No hospitals.” Danny moaned amidst spinning vision and pounding head.
“Yeah, I’m afraid you don’t really have a choice my dude, sorry.” Grayson smirked. “Nice pants by the way. NASA, very spacey"
Danny died a little more.
---
Whoop! Bit vague, but all the more fun to come!
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