#officer or captains belongings
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A small private ship's medicine chest used by an Officer or Captain. England, early 19th century
#naval artifacts#medicine chest#naval#private use#officer or captains belongings#early 19th century#age of sail
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SWEARING LIKE A SAILOR.
AUGUST VAN DE HOEK. @criticalfai1ure said: “that's bullshit and you know it.” auggie @ gore
❛❛ A MATCH BENEATH EACH FINGERNAIL. haven't you heard the story ? numbs the hands for murder, Captain. ❜❜
WITH A SIDEWAYS SMILE, the captain places a few callused fingertips over their table's open flame –– as if to prove his point. blue, blue eyes never waver from August's face as the pain blisters and flesh reddens and he shows his teeth in something between a wince and a smile. and then it fades away. a few moments of suffering and strife for a world of pleasure. ( at least, that is what he has been telling himself for the last forty years. ) satisfied with the show of endurance, Gore flexes his fingers, the old knuckles creaking like storm-stressed wood, scar tissue rippling. who's to say if he strengthened himself with SPELLS AND INCANTATIONS ? for a captain liked to a demon from the mouth of hell, it would hardly be the strangest accusation.
with his left hand, he reaches now for his tankard of gin and swigs until the fire within sparks a heat fit to quell the fire without. whether it works or not is of no consequence. his hands, his heart, and the rest of him, are all LONG NUMBED.
❛❛ they take such rituals to heart in New France. Vaudou priestesses, and the like. ❜❜
#he belongs in a hot topic regional manager's office not a pirate ship.#criticalfai1ure#criticalfai1ure: august van de hoek#answered.#ic: captain gore.#meme response.
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You burst into the office and slam the door behind you. Ghost jumps from his seat and looks up from the paperwork he’s been filling out. His eyes widen as you sprint towards him.
“What the f-”
“Just play along,” you interject, dragging a chair and plopping down. You grab two sheets of paper from the pile next to him and snatch the first pen within reach.
He keeps staring at you dumbfounded before managing to utter something.
“Can you at least-”
“Nope,” you cut him off while focusing on the papers and nibbling on the pen. “No, can’t do. You need to trust me on this one.”
“Define what ‘this one’ is.” He demands.
“Shhhh,” you hush him, waving your hand dismissively and glancing over your shoulder at the door. “He’s coming.”
“Who’s com-”
The door swings open, and footsteps approach. They settle beside you, and a hand slams on the desk. Ghost looks at the hand, then upward.
“Captain,” he says. “What brings you in-”
“For the love of everything you hold dear, Simon, you better not be involved in any of this,” Price warns. He slams his hand on the desk again and looks at you. “Why were you running away from me?” He asks.
You stare at him with furrowed eyebrows before removing the pen from your mouth.
“I wasn’t running away from you, sir,” you reply, pointing the pen at Ghost. “I was late for my meeting with the lieutenant.”
Price turns towards Ghost, seeking for an appropriate answer. The lieutenant sits up straight on his chair, clasps his hands together and motions with his head towards you.
“Very punctual, this one.” He says.
“Cut the crap, Simon,” Price orders and turns to you. “What were you doing inside Bravo Unit’s barracks last night?”
“Bravo Unit has barracks?” You ask Ghost. He shoots you a side-eye and raises one eyebrow.
“Stop playing dump and answer the question,” Price warns and points at Ghost. “And don’t look at him—he’s not covering for you this time.”
“How about you start from the beginning, boss,” Ghost interjects. “What happened?”
“Someone broke into Bravo Unit’s barracks last night and stole every inch of toilet paper they had,” Price says, looking at you, then turning to Ghost. “And not just toilet paper, mind you! Kitchen rolls and tissues are gone as well.”
“Tsk tsk tsk,” Ghost murmurs, shaking his head. “Such an inconvenience.”
“Inconvenience, Simon?” Price whispers, leaning on the desk. “The entirety of Bravo Unit had to wipe their ass with parchment paper this morning.”
Ghost brings his hand to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. He lowers his head and takes deep, laboured breaths. Price is already fuming, so you decide to intervene.
“I was never inside Bravo Unit’s barracks, sir,” You state. “I just happened to walk through it once.”
“Oh, I see, I see—you walked through it once,” Price repeats, nodding. He removes something from his pocket and slams it on the desk.
“The instigator left this behind,” he states, looking back and forth between the two of you.
You and Ghost look at the garment on the desk—it’s a skull balaclava that once belonged to the lieutenant. He gave it to you last Winter since your ears and nose tend to get cold during patrol.
“Now,” Price states, “would you care to brief me on who this belongs to?”
“Hm,” you murmur, setting the pen and papers on the desk. You pick up the mask and start examining it. You look at Ghost, who stares at the mask with his eyeballs threatening to pop out of his face. He shoots you a deathly stare, and you redirect your attention to Price.
“That looks like it must be the lieutenant’s,” you reply, lifting the balaclava next to Ghost’s masked face. “With the skull and all—it’s a perfect match, actually.”
You both turn to Ghost, whose expression has transformed from utter disbelief to an inexplicable calmness.
“Indeed, that looks exactly like the one I lost,” Ghost confirms, taking the mask from you.
“Is it now?” Price asks in a high-pitched voice, tilting his head to the side. “Do me a favour and smell it for me, Riley.”
Ghost does exactly as he’s told. He brings the mask close to his nose, sniffs it, and nods. “Yup,” he confirms. “Smells exactly like me, too.”
Price sighs, takes a bottle from the pocket of his cargo pants and slams it on the desk. “So you want me to believe you use ‘Magnolia Blossom with Moroccan oil’ as a shampoo?” he asks.
“I’ve got dry hair.” Ghost shrugs.
“You should try coconut oil instead,” you suggest to Ghost, “it’s cheaper.”
Price kicks the chair next to you, and you both turn to look at him. He presses his lips together, and a red flush creeps on his neck, threatening to reach his head. He opens his mouth to say something, but you stop him.
“Why did you go through peoples’ stuff without their permission, sir?”
“Oh, I wasn’t going through anyone’s stuff,” Price explains. “You just were dumb enough to ditch the balaclava right behind the barracks. The detection dog picked up on the smell and led us to your stuff—it was a perfect match, just like you said.”
“You had sniffer dogs involved in this?” Ghost asks.
“I had to.” Price replies. “Pair the parchment paper with a day full of training, and Bravo Unit developed the worst rash they had since wearing diapers.”
A chuckle escapes Ghost, and he tries to silence it with his hand. He takes quick gasps of air, and you try to retain your laughter, too.
“Please tell me you’re not laughing!” Price shouts.
“No, boss,” Ghost says and wipes his tears, “It’s just so-”
“-sad,” you say and wipe your eyes as well. “It’s so sad.”
Price looks at you, then at the lieutenant. Now defeated, he sighs and throws his head back, shutting his eyes.
“I’m done with both of you.” He says, lifting his arms and dropping them to his sides. “I expect all toilet papers to be returned today. And as for you, you are responsible for cleaning Bravo’s toilets for the entire month.”
“For the whole month?!” You shout and wince at the idea.
“Be glad I didn’t make you wipe their asses as well.” He shouts as he walks to the door and slams it behind him.
Ghost recovers from the laugh and directs his attention to you. He tries to be serious but his teary eyes betray him.
“That was a hazardous operation you did back there,” he says.
“I didn’t do anything.” You reply, still vouching for your innocence. “But whoever did it taught Bravo Unit not to mess with our thermostats again.”
Ghost shakes his head. “I just happened to walk through the barracks once,” he says, repeating your earlier statement. “What were you thinking? Who walks through barracks?”
“I don’t know,” you reply, shrugging. “Ghosts would be my guess.”
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x f!reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley crackfic#modern warfare 2#call of duty#cod mwii#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#ghost cod#simon ghost riley fic#simon ghost riley fanfiction
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And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: none yet
Part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4
———————
“John Price, military captain, heavily decorated, and unmarried.” you read off of a printed sheet of paper. He’s the third person you’ve seen today that wants to rent the room available. You were praying this one would be a success. You weren’t looking to house the married couples or the rowdy in love teenagers you’d seen earlier on today.
“Yes ma’am that is me.” He says looking down at you, not metaphorically but physically he’s inches above you. You’re far younger than he imagined, beautiful and so awfully well spoken that he’d assumed you’d be either his age or older.
“If this is your job and you’re not married and don't have kids I’m sure you get paid well. Why do you need a roommate?” You say hoping you don’t sound rude but with a job like that this man could afford much better.
“I’m not home much and basically live on base but for the times I do briefly return home id like it to be in a place like your home, beautiful, deserted, quiet.” The last few places he stayed in were apartments and he wanted to settle into something he actually cared to return to, not just someplace that could hold some belongings.
“Well then Mr.Price let me show you the rooms and house, follow me.” You lead him into your home through the halls and the living room simply showing him around making small talk about your job and hobbies.
“If you don’t mind me asking why is it you need a roommate?” He later returns the question, you halt in your tracks and stand still for a second making John hope he hadn’t overstepped.
“I was in a long term relationship that ended two years ago and when we broke up he left me the house or I technically demanded I keep it and um bills have been hard to keep up with.” You Look him in the eyes and smile softly, relieving him of the anxious feeling he’s holding.
“Sorry for asking.” He sincerely apologizes.
“Don’t worry about it, I think it's better you did because this will lead us to the next thing.” You reassure him and continue walking through a pair of French doors.
“This will be your office, I’m sorry about the boxes, they're a little too heavy for me to carry through this house and throw away.” You point to a fair amount of them pushed into a corner.
“No, don't worry about it, I'll get them out.” He replies kindly.
“And then right through here would be your bedroom.” It's exactly to the right of his office, a huge room which must be the master. He wonders if this had been the room you shared with your ex and by the look that covers your gorgeous features, he’s right.
“It has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. If you want to live here, I’d like the home to be treated as if we both own it, not like you just rent a room, especially for the price.” You explain and truly that is your hope. He’s the perfect tenant and on his submission form he’s looking for a long term place which would mean less worry about the future bills on your behalf.
“When can I start moving in?” He turns to look in your hopeful eyes.
“Immediately if you want it of course.” You say with excitement. The mortgage payments have been a burden and this was a huge relief.
“Is it okay if I have some of my mates help me take these boxes out?” You nod enthusiastically with a quiet
‘of course’.
“I'll be back here early in the morning, Thankyou for inviting me into your home.” He says turning to make way back down the path you took to the room.
“Thankyou Mr.Price.” You offer your hand as a settlement.
“Call me John please.” He shakes it politely.
“I'll see you tomorrow john.” You say walking him to the door and bidding him a goodbye.
—————-
“Be honest captain, is she cute?” John had the unfortunate situation of having to haul soap with him in his car while the two other men drove the moving truck that he only rented to get rid of the boxes you had.
“She’s nearly a decade younger than me.” He answers hoping that’ll lay it to rest.
‘That doesn’t answer my question.” Soap never chooses peace.
“Yeah she’s stunning.” And really you were.
—————————-
“Hi good morning, come in.” You say opening the door letting the cold air sweep into your warm home. Eyeing the huge men that stood in the doorway.
“Good morning this is soap, gaz, and that's ghost if you couldn’t tell. This is my task force and certainly my best mates.” John replies quickly giving them an introduction.
“Nice to meet you all.” You say trying your hardest to not sound intimidated.
“And you as well, gorgeous.” Soap says gripping your small hand in his own.
“He’s a flirt, don't worry about him.” Gaz says, shaking your hand next.
“Nice to meet you.” Ghost offers you his gloved hand giving you the softest handshake he thinks he’s ever given in his life.
“Well you boys can get too it there is pastries on the counter and drinks in the fridge if you need anything i'll be in my room that’s down this hall.” You say smiling at all of them then reaching into the pocket on your paint stained overalls fishing out a pair of keys.
“Oh and before I can forget John these are yours, this one is too your office and bedroom door and this one is too the house door.” You say handing them over on the pink keychain you’ve kept them on all this time.
“Thank you.” He says before you walk away.
————————
“That little lady does not know how to pack these. They are insanely heavy, how'd she ever expect to get them out.” Soap says picking up a box from the office room that’s filled with papers.
“I don’t think that was her main concern.” John says as he also picks one up walking them outside and into the U-Haul he rented.
“She’s a true stunner though, how will John Price be able to resist?” He teases his captain.
“I’m with soap on that one.” Ghost surprisingly grumbles throwing a box down on the gravel.
“Should’ve seen the way she was looking at you captain.” Gaz enters this pointless conversation out of breath gently setting down more boxes.
“I actually think you're the only one here whose age is appropriate for her gaz.” Gaz makes a sound of disagreement.
“Captain 8 years isn’t what you’re making it seem, don't you remember when soap had a girlfriend like 13 years older than him.” The memory flashes through all their minds and ghost has to keep himself from giggling.
“And don’t you remember how it ended.” It was ugly, soap found that when time passes people get older and being 37 with a 50 year old wasn’t what he thought it’d be.
“All I’m saying is I think some romance with a pretty lady like that could do you some good. I mean your living in a home together tension will get to you at some point.” John rolls his shoulders back and sighs.
“Shut up and get back to work, all of you.” The captain says demanding as they all hurry back inside.
But what if?
——————-
“Wow, I don't know when’s the last time I've seen these rooms empty.” You say walking into the office.
“Was it all his?” John says giving you a one up at the change in clothes. You're wearing your pajamas which consist of shorts and a big shirt.
“Yeah it was, when will you be bringing in your own stuff?” You reply quickly changing the topic.
“I actually have all my stuff in my truck, only three boxes, I’m not a man of many possessions.” He laughs Gruffly swiping a hand over his mouth.
“I have clean sheets in my closet if you’ll be needing some.” You offer politely.
“Please.” He says and you nod, turning to go get them.
“I’ll just be bringing in the rest of my belongings.” He says walking down the opposite end of the hallway.
He brings the boxes in one by one, setting them in the office not paying mind to where you could have gone till he brings the last one in and hears you humming in the bedroom putting what were to be his pillows inside pillow cases.
“Oh love you didn’t have too. I've been making my own bed on base for longer than my memory goes back.” His deep voice slightly startles you.
“Sorry, it's just a habit.” You apologize softly and he wonders if it came off the wrong way.
“No, Thankyou is what I really mean.” He says slightly smiling at the floral print sheets that now adorn his bed.
“Sorry these are actually the least feminine looking ones I have.” You smile realizing how silly it looks for a man as manly as the one who stands before you to have blue and pink flower sheets.
“No worries love.” He nods to you.
“Well I'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You say giving him a small pat on the shoulder and leaving to what he could only assume to be your bedroom.
He got changed for the night, ready to settle into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows the scent of lavender and a perfume that had to solely be you was invading his senses. Something so feminine and warm and good, god was it good. He turned his head slightly more into the pillow taking a deep breath in and out enjoying it. The more he focused on it the easier the sleep had come and before he knew it he was sleeping like a bear in hibernation.
—————————————-
I’m ready for a new story.
Comments and reposts and greatly appreciated<3
If anyone has thoughts or ideas on how this should go please send them in.
#captain price x female reader#john price#barry sloane#captain john price#john price x reader#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#task force 141#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod modern warfare
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CALLING THEM MY LOVE + ONE PIECE MEN
characters: rosinante, doflamingo, shanks, marco, crocodile
warnings: heavily self indulgent in like... 90% of those, not proofread
donquixote rosinante always uses soft nicknames for you, so you thought you could use them with him too. "my love, is law okay?" you expected his back to turn to you, but the man simply stayed like that. "rosi?", you approached him and he let you wrap your arms around his waist. he turned around and you felt something wet fall on your face. 'you never called me your love before.' his voice sounded so soft, he wrapped his arms around you too and placed a kiss on the top of your head. 'i love you.'
donquixote doflamingo is unpredictable; you always wanted to use pet names with him, but you don't know how he would react to it. one day, he walked in your shared bedroom looking absolutely tired and mad. "doffy? are you okay, my love?" his shoulders visibly relaxed and his usual wide grin creeped up on his face. 'oh?' he cooed and motioned with his hand for you to come closer. 'your love? baby, you flatter me.' his hand came up to hold your chin and he chuckled.
shanks and you aren't exactly official. everyone in the crew knows that you "belong" to their captain, but neither shanks nor you made things official. that's why you completely caught him off guard when you murmured: "shanks, my love, where did you put your dirty clothes?". he looked at you shocked, but he soon smiled widely at you. 'darling, ya know you don' have to wash my stuff. c'mere.' with his only arm, he pulled you closer and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. 'love ya'. the crew around both of you started cheering and cooing. shanks started laughing loudly and tried to dismiss them, but you felt him give your hand a tight squeeze.
you had injuried yourself a little during a battle, but marco immediately pulled you to the ship's infirmary when you two got back. you knew it was useless to say you didn't need it, so you just let him tend to your wounds. when he was over, he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and you murmured, "thanks, love". he chuckled loudly and messed up your hair. 'no problem, sweetheart.'
crocodile was feared by so many people, even among his "friends"; but you, you know you are on his soft and sweet side. "my love!" you exclaimed, entering his office with a dish you just prepared, "can you taste this for me?". his eyes went from rough and cold to slightly softer when you stopped right by his side, holding out a piece of the meat you made for him to bite. he bit it and groaned softly. 'it's delicious, angel.' you smiled at him and kissed his cheek, making him smile for a second, before turning back to his papers.
2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!
#rosinante x reader#doflamingo x reader#shanks x reader#marco x reader#crocodile x reader#donquixote rosinante x reader#donquixote doflamingo x reader#shanks x you#marco x you#crocodile x you#rosinante x you#doflamingo x you#one piece x reader#one piece x reader fluff#donquixote rosinante#marco#crocodile#donquixote doflamingo#red hair shanks
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You belong to me. (Ghost x Reader.)
!reader is a Virgin, virginity loss, p in v sex, unprotected sex, Ghost is a little possessive, this is age gap smut and you’ve been warned. Ghost is like 40 in this. Absolutely NO minors!
This is not edited so sorry for any mistakes
He doesn’t know what did it.
He doesn’t know which part of you started this… obsession.
Maybe it was your smile. Or your personality. How lively you were for being in the military. It was a cruel job and you still managed to be so happy.
Maybe it was just that you were not his normal type in women. A young virgin. Who despite being exposed to some of the toughest situations out there was still so innocent.
But something caused it, made him have that one dream. He was tucked away in his bed, sound asleep. He seen your face as he fell into a deeper sleep. You were laughing and smiling. Turning to him to acknowledge him as he walked into a room. Greeted him with a kiss.
Ghost woke in a hurry, where on earth it had come from. He doesn’t know. He had never had these feelings for you before this. They came out of nowhere. And it started fast. Like he got sucked into a black hole and could no longer figure a way out. He was gone- done for. Every second he spent around you after that, he dreaded. Because Ghost didn’t do this. He didn’t have feelings for people. But your smile. Your laugh and how it could pierce his ears from what felt like miles away. How when you spoke to him, like you were talking to a friend made his brain foggy as he watched your lips move. Lost in a daze. Most of the time you had to repeat yourself because he was so spaced out he heard none of it.
He knew he was in too deep when he started looking into you.
Finding all of your social media accounts. Coming across every single post you’d ever been featured or tagged in. He knew who your parents and grandparents were and how close you were with some. He even snuck into Price’s office once and stole any file that contained you. He knew everything there was to know about you, down to your shower routine at night.
Ghost knows he’s got to be sick for how obsessed he’d become but he just couldn’t help himself.
When he came to the conclusion that you must be a virgin, he was by your side always.
If anyone else found out that you were a virgin- it would be bad. Especially some of the men who they called enemies. They were cruel and dangerous to women. During any missions at all, Ghost was right with you.
When it started, you didn’t understand it. Why he was all over you all of a sudden but you didn’t mind. You liked Simon. If he wanted to be friends, that’s okay. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t until he was killing for you that he knew he had a problem.
When an enemy had put their hands on you, he was merciless. He could be brutal, violent. But never to you. Not ever. It ate him alive that he liked you so much and he couldn’t have you. You weren’t his. You didn’t have to listen to him, you didn’t have to consider what he said. You had no ties to him whatsoever and it drove him mad. Ghost was bothered deeply by his infatuation with you. You would never go for someone like him, not when he’s old enough to be your dad. Some nights, when it’s especially cold. He can barely stand it. He wants you close to him, by his side at all times. He wants you. He wants it all.
“Alright. let’s have a chat, shall we?” Captain Price’s voice snags Ghost out of his thoughts.
He’s sitting off to one side of the large oak table sat in the middle of the conference room. Everyone else is inside as well. You’re next to him because he chose to sit down next to you. “Obviously, we’re going to go on a break for a few weeks, I wanted you all home for a while to relax before we started up on these next few missions. If you didn’t want to go, I can still find you guys something to do on base. There will still be other commanding officers and some other new recruits keeping it up and running. If you wanted to stay on base I need to know by tomorrow.”
Ghost will always respect Price. Always.
“I’d like to stay on base, Captain.”
Ghost respected him, and right now he almost wanted to give the old man a kiss once you’ve spoken up.
“Okay, Y/N. Anyone else?”
“Me, always.” Ghost mumbles. “Right, obviously.” Captain Price nudges him. “Workaholic.” Price mumbles, making Simon smile underneath his balaclava.
Ghost doesn’t hear another word of the meeting. You don’t say anything else and that’s all he wanted to hear. Although he wondered why you were choosing to stay on base when you had a family.
Once the day came when everyone else left, Ghost was going to miss them. He always did during breaks. Especially on the few he’s been left alone. He missed Price’s lectures. Soaps banter, Gaz’s pranks. He missed them all, they were the only family he had of course. But he didn’t mind this time, not since you’d be around. You keep him company until they came back, if you liked it or not. Ghost was getting soft as he got older, he knew it. But he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t really want to anymore. He liked to be close with people even if he knew it would kill him if he lost any of them.
It takes a few days before Ghost finishes up what he usually does. Cleaning up his room, getting rid of some things. He likes to reset completely when he has the time. When he’s done, he finally decides to seek you out.
It seems as if you’re doing the same, your door is propped open and he walks right inside. “Hey.” You’re reaching for a book on a bookshelf. “Oh, hey Ghost.” You smile at him. You turn back to the bookshelf, turning back to him in a hurry. The book topples over onto you and you step away as the rest follow suit. He can’t help but laugh. “You’re.. not wearing a mask.” You blush. “No, I’m not.” He laughs. “You need help?”
“No I just didn’t expect you to come in here with your face out like that!” You laugh, picking up the books and setting them on your bed. “I mean.. I can put it back on.” He laughs. “No! No- I just. You caught me off guard that’s all.” You blush, avoiding his gaze as you stumble over his words. “You can’t walk in here practically naked, I mean you’re showing so much skin.” You joke. You can actually see his lips turn up in a smile and it makes your chest ache just how handsome he is. “Yeah, I know it’s a lot of handsome to just throw around like this.” He smirks, hearing you laugh. He loves it.
If he could only hear that for the rest of his life, he’d never complain again.
You roll your eyes.
“I see we had the same idea, bit of a reset.”
“Yeah, I just wanted it to all be set up and clean for when we go back out. Swear I’m still cleaning up sand from our trip to Iran.” You laugh. “Oh god me too.” Simon laughs. He sits down on the edge of your bed, watching you as you replace the books. He offers you help of course but you deny it. “I was wondering why you chose to stay, I thought you had mentioned visiting your parents?” Ghost doesn’t miss the way you stiffen.
“Uh.. well.” You turn to him. “It’s.. kind’ve… personal I guess.” You mumble. “Oh, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He looks up at you. “It’s just this.. family friend we have.” You start, looking at the cover of the book in your hands. “He’s been my dad’s friend since I was in my early teens.” Ghosts hair stands up, worried at where you’re going with this. You sit down at the small desk you have in your room. “He always acted really weird when I was around and when I was home last… he tried.” You pause. “He tried making a pass at me, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It turned into this whole thing. My dad got involved and him and my mum didn’t believe me. They believed him. So yeah, they planned this big party for me to come back. But I found out they invited him so I lied and said I was stuck here. But.. I think you needed some company anyways.” You smile. You’re trying to make light of what you’ve just told him.
“I’m sorry to hear that. He didn’t touch you did he?”
Ghost knows he’ll track him down. Torture him for laying a finger on you.
“He tried.”
Ghost nods. “He left with a bloody nose.” You laugh. “You know, if he ever does anything to you. This entire base will have his head on a pike.” He looks up at you. The way he looks at you has chills rising on your body. He’s deadly serious. You smile. “I appreciate it, but I don’t plan on going back. Not when they sided with him so easily.” You laugh. “Ah, you get to missing them too much, just take me with you. I’ll be your body guard.” He laughs. Inside, Ghost is seething. How dare he. How dare he try to hurt you.
“I appreciate it, but I’m not putting you through that. They’re hard to get along with. Besides that if I brought him a guy twice my age I’d probably give my dad a heart attack.” Ghost laughs at this. “What the man doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” He winks, seeing the pink rise to your cheeks has you turning away from him.
“You’re funny.” You giggle.
———
For the next couple of weeks, you spend nearly every second of every day with Ghost. He helps you with your chores, you help him with his. You get done faster and get to spend even more time doing practically nothing together. You aid on a couple of spare missions, he shows you a little bit of mechanic work, he even rents a rental car in the town you’re in so that he could show you around. It’s by far some of the most fun you’ve ever had and you like being so close to Ghost. But there’s been something nagging at you in the back of your mind.
And that’s your growing feelings for him.
Your parents have nonstop harassed you to come home, even if it’s for a couple days. You ended up folding but the thought of leaving Ghost here alone drives you crazy. You never thought you’d be so close to the Lieutenant.
You’re sitting at the edge of your bed when he knocks at your door. Right about now, the two of you would be going down to have dinner. But this time, he shows up with trays in his hands. You smile as you open the door. “Mess hall is full, thought I’d bring you something before there’s nothing left.” He laughs. “Thanks Ghost.” You smile. “Is something going on?” He asks.
“Ah… I just.. thought I’d ask you something.” You say nervously. “What’s up?” He asks. “Well.. my parents have been nagging me to go home.” You sigh. He nods his head, sitting down at your desk. “And.. I told them I’d go home for just a couple days, no longer than a week.” You shrug. He nods his head. “Yeah? Are you going to be okay?”
“See that’s the thing. I.. was wondering.” You laugh. “If you’d go as like.. my.. I don’t know.” You pause. “Pretend boyfriend?” You laugh. He turns to you. “Yeah, no problem.” He looks up at you. “Wait really?” You ask.
“Course, not like I got anything better to do. Besides, if that bastard puts his hands on you it gives me an excuse to hurt him.” He shrugs. You laugh. “Hey. I really appreciate it. You have no idea.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. “My dad is probably going to give you a lot of grief for how old you are though.” Ghost laughs. “Love, I’m in the military. I’ll be just fine.” You smile. Thank god.
———
You sigh, which makes Ghost turn his head to you. “What’s going on?” He asks. He’s pulling into the driveway. “That’s.. his car.” You sigh. “Hey.” He places his hand on your thigh to reassure you. “He’s not going to do anything. I swear I won’t leave your side.” You smile. “Thank you Ghost.”
Captain Price was surprised to hear that the two of you had left together, but after speaking to Simon in private he understood why. Simon felt a little bad for spilling your business but he was your Captain after all. You still had another few weeks before you were due back anyways, you had time to kill. Ghost helps you unload your bags. Carrying them up to the front door with you. Once you reach the door, your mum opens it up.
She’s shocked to see that you aren’t alone.
“Hi Y/N!” She smiles. Bringing you into a hug. “Hey.” You mumble. “Who is your friend?” She asks. “Oh uh.. this is Simon.” You nod. Simon reached his hand out. You can tell your mum is slightly intimidated by the sheer size of him. She takes his hand anyways.
“My boyfriend.”
Your mums eyes nearly bulge out of her head when those words leave your lips but she smiles nonetheless. “It’s nice to meet you, Simon.” She stands to the side. Allowing the both of you inside. “Your dad and Mike are in the back.” She smiles. Ghost can see you go stiff.
So his name is Mike.
“Simon I can show you Y/N’s room. So that you can go see your dad.” She turns to you. “That’s alright, Y/N said she wanted to show me her old room.” He smiles, rejecting her offer. You mentally thanked him. “Oh alright than. Well. I’m just finishing up dinner.” She smiles. “You know where to find us.”
You nod your head, leading Simon up to your old bedroom. “You are literally a life saver Simon.” You mumble the moment the door is closed. He laughs. “So.. am I staying in here with you. They got any strict rules?” He laughs. “No weird rules but there’s only one bed.” You blush. “That’s alright. Just don’t be a blanket hog.” He nudges you. “Let’s go meet Mike.” He grasps your wrist, tugging you along. You groan out. “I know you wanna bite his head off Simon but you can’t.”
“Says who?”
You can’t help but laugh. “Definitely not me.” You mumble. You lead Simon out to the back door to the back yard where everyone now sits. He opens up the door for you, your mum notices how kind he is to you immediately. She didn’t say anything to your dad yet, unsure of how this would go. It’s quiet the moment the both of you move closer. “Uh.. hey honey.” your dad smiles. He’s skeptical. “Who’s this?” He stands up. Ghost sees the man that’s made you uncomfortable. Staring him down from the moment they lock eyes. Only looking away to shake your dad’s hand. “I’m Simon.” He smiles.
“My boyfriend.” You finish for him. Your dad nods. “Nice to meet you Simon. You seem a little old.”
“Ah, to be honest I thought Y/N was older, she’s pretty mature for her age.” He nods. “Yeah, that’s true. She’s a good girl. Smart too.”
“Absolutely.” Simon agrees. Simon can see that Mike is uncomfortable upon hearing that you’ve got a boyfriend. It only makes Simon want to tear him to shreds even more. “Oh uh. Simon. This is Mike, he’s a family friend.”
Simon is sure to grip his hand extra hard as he shakes it. Towering over him. He wants him to feel small.
“Let’s sit for dinner yeah?” Your mum breaks the awkward silence.
It was nice enough outside to be able to sit outside to eat. Everyone keeps asking about Simon. How the two of you met and how you came to be. Simon made up something cute on the spot and you couldn’t deny the butterflies it gave you. Simon is a great man, and it sucks that you have to fake this.
“Hey Y/N. You mind helping me get some stuff out of my car?” Mike speaks up.
“Nonsense, no reason she should do it when I’m around. I’ll help you.” Simon Stands up from the bench. Mike stiffens up. It’s clear that there he had an ulterior motive. He’ll most likely have to come up with something in the spot. Simon expects him to say “oh I forgot.”
He leads Simon to his trunk.
Simon quickly notices that it’s empty. “Oh shoot. Maybe I forgot to put it in here after all.” Simon lets out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s not that you wanted to get Y/N alone so you could be a fucking creep toward her some more.”
“Excuse me?”
Simon grasps hold of the man, slamming into the back of the car. His hands gripping his lapels.
“She told me about you. And I’m not gonna let her be alone around you because you’re a fucking freak. If you even so much as look at her wrong I’ll bury you. And nobody will ever know where to find you. Do I make myself clear?”
Mike nods his head eagerly. “Yes I understand.” He flinches. “Great. Don’t come around again while she’s here. If I see your face again we’re going to have a problem. And if you tell her dad about this conversation we had, I’ll be sure to make the bullshit worth my while. Now go back in there and let them know you’ve forgotten about something and that you have to go.” He nods his head, and finally Simon lets him go. They both walk back into the house and Simon returns to his spot next to you. “I must’ve forgotten it at home, but my boss called me and asked me to come in for some last minute questions, so unfortunately I’ll have to get going.”
He looks pale. You know immediately something has happened. “Aw, sorry to hear that Mike. You have a good day alright?” Your mum smiles. Simon wants to scowl at her but knows he can’t.
It’s getting late. Both you and Simon are tired from the time zones and your parents are going to go play Bingo, Mike invited them out.
Unusual when you were home. Simon must’ve really scared him. “You two get some rest, we’ll be home later tonight.” Your mum smiles. Once they’ve left, the weight leaves your shoulders. “Fuck me, thank god.” You laugh. You start up the stairs and Simon follows you. “What did you say to him?”
“What are you talking about?” He asks. “Mike looked like he’d seen a damn ghost, you know exactly what I’m talking about. What’d you do to him?”
“Me? Say something to Mike? No way.” He smirks. He stretches back and his jacket raises and you can see his toned stomach, you have to turn away. Swallowing hard. “Liar.”
“I’m the Ghost he seen, darling. But you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Alright?” He forces you to look at him. Nodding your head. “Thank you Simon.”
“Nothing to it sweetheart.” He laughs. “Your parents probably think you’re going through a crisis. Did you see the way they looked at me all day?”
“Yeah. It’s just because you’re older.” You giggle, laying down on the bed. Simon throws himself down beside you. “First guy I’ve ever brought home and you’re almost as old as my dad.” You laugh. You freeze up as the words leave your mouth. “I- I mean-“
“No worries, your secret is safe with me.” He turns to look at you. “What?”
Simon chuckles. “I know that you’re a virgin Y/N.” You can feel your blood run cold. “What? How do you know that?”
Ghost laughs. “I can just tell.” You look down, blushing.
“Hey. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He rolls onto his side, resting on his hand. “It’s actually kind’ve impressive. As pretty as you are I’m surprised nobody has scooped you up and married you yet.” He laughs.
“You think I’m pretty?” You look up at him.
He laughs. “Of course I do. What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.. I guess I just never thought that much into it. I didn’t think I was that pretty.”
“So clearly you’ve never looked to a mirror.” He rolls his eyes. “Tough talk coming from you. I had no idea how handsome you were until you surprised me without a mask on.” You roll your eyes. “Oh? Handsome? Don’t let your panties get too wet.” he winks. Crimson creeps up your cheeks and you shake your head at him. “Shut up. You’re so full of yourself.” You roll your eyes. He laughs. “I’m kidding.”
Once the conversation has died down, you’ve nuzzled closer to him unintentionally.
“Y/N.” He speaks up out of the blue.
“Yeah?” You look at him. “There’s a way to make this easier yknow.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean.. we’re faking it. Right?”
“Yeah?”
“What if we didn’t?”
You sit up, looking at him in confusion. The way your hair falls perfectly as you look at him, so beautiful when you’re confused. “I don’t think I understand.” You laugh. “What if we didn’t fake it?”
“Are.. are you saying that-“
“I want you to be my girlfriend.”
You didn’t understand metaphors in person until those words left his lips and the earth stopped spinning. It feels like your blood freezes over in your veins. “I-“ you freeze up. He sits up. Taking your hand in his. “I know I’m throwing a lot at you right now. But I’ve felt this way about you for some time. I mean you had to have noticed me coming around you more right?”
“I.. I guess so. I just thought it was because… well I don’t know.” You blush, looking down. “I know a little bit more about you than I should.. and I know it’s wrong of me. You’re so young and I can’t ask you to give up your life for me.” He breathes. “How?”
“I did a little snooping. Through your social media. And.. your file.”
“My file? Like the one in our Captain’s office?”
He shrugs.
Heat pools between your legs, you’ve never been so attracted to anyone in your entire life. “You.. stole files to get to know me?” You look up at him. “Well when you put it that way it sounds like I’m a creep.”
“You are a creep. If you wanted to know you could’ve asked me.” You smirk. You’re clearly poking fun at him. “Yeah, doesn’t take a genius to see how perfectly innocent you are. You n your perfect unfucked pussy.”
Your mouth drops open and you shove him back. “I’m kidding- I’m kidding.” He laughs. “Watch your mouth, Riley. I might be a girl but I’ll still kick your ass.”
“I believe it. I’ll be on my best behavior.” He laughs.
“So what do you say?”
“You really want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask. He nods. “You’re not just saying that?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not going to have sex with me and than dump me are you?”
He looks stunned by your question. “I might be an asshole but jeez. Have some faith in me.” He mumbles.
“Fine.” You laugh. “Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“Good, god I’ve been waiting for this.” He sits up, pressing his lips to yours immediately.
He pulls you back beside him, his lips not moving from yours until he feels he’s had enough. He pulls you closer into his side, tugging the blanket up over the both of you.
Simon almost never sleeps well. He spends most of his time awake, seeing nothing but darkness. But with the bedside lamp on, he can see you clearly. And he thinks you’re even more beautiful asleep.
He knows how stressful this has been for you. You never stopped tapping your foot once you left the airport. You never noticed him making an attempt to soothe you. Holding it still so that you would relax a little more. You briefly feel his fingertips gliding through your hair. You’re peaceful when you’re asleep. Nothing bad. You’re safe here, so long as Simon is around.
He only hopes you’ll want him around forever.
———
“Honey… is everything okay?” Your mum asks. Simon is still asleep, it’s early. You’re sitting down across from her at your table.
“What? Why?”
“Because.. Simon is so much older than you honey. You.. you don’t really expect this to go anywhere do you?”
You pause, looking up at her. “Excuse me?” You cross your arms. “Y/N… I’m not trying to be mean okay. It’s just.. men like Simon don’t want a relationship. They just want-“
You raise your hand up, stopping her.
“Don’t you dare categorize Simon.”
She sighs. “Y/N. You know that’s not what I mean. I just mean that men like Simon only have one thing on their mind.”
“Yeah? And that is?”
“You know exactly what I mean Y/N.”
“Sex? You think he’s only with me for sex?”
“Y/N… lower your voice.” She seethes.
“Yeah well if he only wanted me for sex he’d be long gone by now.” Her eyes widen.
“You’ve already slept with him? How long have you been together?”
“Couple weeks.” You shrug. She shakes her head. “I thought we raised you better than this.” You freeze, looking up at her and laughing. “I don’t even want to hear any of that considering you wouldn’t even side with your own daughter after Mike made a pass at me.”
“Not this again Y/N.”
“Yeah, not anymore. Because if he touches me again Simon is going to break his hand.”
She shakes her head. “What has gotten into you?”
“I’m not a kid anymore. I can make my own decisions. I mean for christ’s sake, I kill people for a living.” You scoff. “And for the record. Simon isn’t like other guys. I’ve watched him kill people for trying to hurt me.” You laugh, standing up. “I think we’ll probably be heading out first thing in the morning, this was clearly a mistake.” You make your way upstairs. “Maybe we won’t be here when you change your mind, when he hurts you.”
“You wouldn’t be there anyways.” You roll your eyes. You hear her leave through the front door. Her car starting.
You make your way upstairs. Simon sitting at the edge of the bed. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Did you hear that?”
Simon nods his head. “I’m sorry Y/N.” He breathes. “Mike is a fucking creep and they’re fucked up for not believing you.”
“What? No. That’s- no.” You laugh. “I could care less about them believing me about Mike. It’s her shit talking you that drives me crazy. You’ve always been good to me and that’s wrong of her to say.”
Simon laughs. “I don’t exactly have the best rep Y/N. You should’ve known that before you started dating me.”
You turn to look at him, and the look in your eyes has his smile fading. “I… I’m sorry.” He scratches the back of his head nervously.
“Don’t be.” You mumble the words under your breath. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to offend you-“ you start toward him, kissing him hard. You push him back into the bed. “Woah- Y/N.” He pushes you up. “What are you doing?” He breathes. A gasp leaving his lips when you climb on top of him to straddle him. “Shit.” He grits his teeth. “Hey- listen. You aren’t thinking straight.” You look up at him, eyes dripping lust. “I’m thinking just fine.”
He grits his teeth as you rock your hips down into him. He quickly flips you over. “Y/N. You’re not ready for this.”
“Simon.” You’re breathless as you look up at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for this, to be honest.”
He stares down at you. God he wants this, of course he does. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. That’s not him. He lowers himself down again, locking his lips with yours. Your heart is thumping in your chest and he can hear it. “Is this really where you want to do this?” He pulls away. You look around. Biting back a smirk. “I’ll take that as a yeah.” He shakes his head, standing up. The door doesn’t have a lock, so he puts a chair up in front of it. When he turns back you’ve already shed your shirt, and you’re working on your pants. He’s still wearing sweatpants.
“I don’t have anything..” he sighs. “It’s okay.” You nod.
He pushes you back, moving himself between your legs. “You trust me?” He asks. You nod your head. Looking up at him. “M’gonna try not to hurt you.” He breathes. “I want you to know that I’d never take advantage of you. If you don’t like anything at all, you tell me.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I know.”
He slides down the soft pajama pants you’ve got on. He tried so hard not to smother you the night before. He wants it all with you but knows not to move too fast, he doesn’t want to scare you off. He kisses you, moving lower down your body. Scattering kisses over your soft skin. Hearing you whine out as he moves down your chest. Over your stomach and onto your thighs. You lift your head, looking him in the eyes as he glides his tongue through your folds for the first time. The first time you’ve ever been touched by a man. Your eyes grow heavy, and you gasp. He sucks at your clit and watches you squirm as he tongues your clit. You try to clamp your thighs shut but he forces them open. Wanting you to get used to him touching you, relax you a little bit. He’s going to need you relaxed for when he enters you for the first time. He keeps it up for a few minutes until your thighs are shivering. You’re right on the edge but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.
Pulling away just as he’s got you to the edge. Hearing you whine out.
You’re already sweaty and your legs are jello.
“Relax. You’re ready for me sweetheart.” He moves himself between your legs, kissing back up your stomach and chest. “You are so beautiful like this. So beautiful.” He shakes his head. “I’m gonna fuck you now. Do you think you can handle it?” He asks. “Yes.” You answer fast. He pushes his sweats down to his mid thigh.
Just then, you hear the door close downstairs. “Shh. It’s alright.” He spits in his hand, gliding it over his cock. Slicking himself up as much as he can. Not wanting to hurt you any more than he has to. He holds your thighs open. Lining himself up with your entrance. He starts to slip between the folds of your pussy, your mouth popping open. He knows you’re about to cry out, clamping a hand over your mouth and burying himself the rest of the way inside of you. Sealing the deal.
This isn’t just casual anymore. You’re his now.
He lowers himself down. Still halted.
“You belong to me.”
You cry into his hand but he muffles it. He slides himself out of you and rocks his hips back into you. Feeling the wetness of your tears on his hand. “My god you are tight.” He breathes. Clenching his eyes shut. He rocks into you at a steady pace. A knock at the door has you going stiff and he rests his hand on your stomach. The other around your mouth still. He draws his hand away from your stomach, pressing his index finger over his lips. Shushing you.
“Y/N. We need to talk.”
It’s your dad.
Simon slowly draws his hand away from your mouth. Making sure you’ll be quiet. But he doesn’t stop his thrusts.
“Okay- I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Mike is here.”
Simon grits his teeth, shaking his head. “I said I’ll be down in a minute.”
Your dad sighs at the other end of the door. His footsteps disappearing down the stairs.
“Focus on me. M’gonna make you feel good baby.” He breathes.
He adjusts himself to be angled just right. Holding you still as he starts to rock himself into that one spot. Your mouth falls open the first time he brushes up against it. That spongy spot that’s so sensitive. “Cover your mouth darling. S’alright. Just relax.” He’s whispering. His voice so low you can barely hear it. You clamp your own hand on your mouth as he holds your hips steady, rocking into you. You’re barely keeping it together and that’s what he wants. He wants you to fall apart. He wants you on him. Clamping down around him. He wants to draw you in closer. You’re his and he wants to show you that. He holds you steady, keeping the same pace. He wants to be more rough but knows you aren’t quite ready for that. He moves your hand away from your mouth to kiss you. His lips move against yours sloppily and you notice his thrusts are a little sloppy as well. He’s getting close, but so are you. The unfamiliar feelings of a knot builds in your lower belly.
His teeth latch onto your bottom lip. Pulling it between his teeth and sucking at it. Your whines egg him on. Pulling him into you. He’s addicted.
“Simon… I’m really close.” You whine. Your voice is low and he knows nobody can hear you. Thank god, they don’t deserve to hear such angelic noises. You’re good. You’re the perfect amount of good Simon needs in his dark life. You make him better. His cock throbs hard inside of you. He grits his teeth. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be so gentle with me. I can take it.” You breathe, looking up at him. He laughs. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into baby.”
“I think I do.”
Simon lifts you up, laying you down on the floor, if they’re downstairs, they’ll hear the bed creaking. He pushes your legs up, and starts his bruising pace. Fucking into you like it’ll be the last time. Your eyes widen, but he clamps a hand over your mouth. “You wanted this. You can take it.” He growls. Your eyes roll back and you fall apart. Throbbing around him as you reach your high. You’re clamping down around him tightly and he can barely keep himself together. Of all of the people you thought you might lost your virginity to, Ghost was never one of them.
He takes one last hard thrust, jawline clenching up as he grits his teeth. His eyes screw shut and you realize that’s he’s just finished inside of you. Your eyes widen as you feel his warmth filling you.
He relaxes himself into you.
“Fuck- m’sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking I just couldn’t stop myself.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You look up at him. You’re mesmerized by him.
He laughs, letting his head hang. “You can’t look at me like that. I won’t let you walk away.” He laughs.
You let your head rest against the floor. “You have to go with me.”
“I wouldn’t let you go down there alone. Not with that prick down there.” Simon growls. Sliding out of you. You gasp out as he does.
You redress yourselves, Simon letting you borrow one of his hoodies. A way to assert dominance, but you didn’t need to know that.
You make your way downstairs and he follows close behind. “What’s going on?” You ask.
“Mike wanted to apologize.”
Simon grips your hand in his. Pulling you closer. “What?”
“I shouldn’t have done what I did and I’m sorry Y/N.” You swallow hard. Your mum and dad look guilty. “We have to apologize too. For not believing you.” Your dad speaks up. “I don’t forgive you. Not any of you.” You breathe. “We’re heading out first thing in the morning and I won’t be back until I’m ready to.”
You pull Simon along, out the front door.
“How about I show you around? Where I grew up.” He smiles. “Course.” He smiles. Following you down the drive of your parents’ house. “You’ll have to show me where you grew up sometime.” You smile. “Yeah, of course. I’d love to darling.” He laughs. “You’re a strong girl you know that?” He opens up the car door for you. “I don’t know.”
“M’serious. You’re brave and strong. They don’t deserve a girl like you.”
You smile.
“So what does that tell you?” You ask. He moves closer. “I don’t know.” His lips ghost over yours.
“Don’t fuck it up, Riley.”
#call of duty mw2#cod mw2#ghost mw2#mw2 smut#ghost smut#ghost call of duty#ghost fanfiction#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley
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MESMERIZED ✦ KEEGAN P. RUSS
✦ about: keegan is mesmerized with you since he first met you ♡
✦ content: NSFW +18, virgin!reader, afab reader, blood, guns & death mentions, panic attacks, misogyny
✦ a.n: the boots i kinda imagined are the moonboots!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
in the sun-kissed landscapes of italy, you, with your captivating charm and surprising intelligence, was dealing with a meeting with very higher ups in the politic world, things were going so far so good.
that was until your boss, a figure whom you trusted very much, revealed to you the news. a deployment to russia as a military translator.
nervous feelings ran down your spine, not from the revelation of a new challenge, but from the anticipation of russia’s frigid embrace. most of the time, you were assigned to help translate in missions involving trafficking, drugs, dark stuff like that. and having to translate for the “bad guys” involved them being not so nice to you. mostly because they don’t like a woman all up on their dark buisness.
nevertheless, you knew you were going to be protected, and the military people have never treated you wrong.
you prepared your clothes, having to use a bigger backpack due to all the puffy jackets, scarfs, you know, all cold related things. which you do not protest! the colder the weather, the better you can dress.
right now you had a puffy black jacket, warm leggings with a thick skirt attached! it was 100x more comfortable because now your ass didn’t have to feel all the cold seats anymore. and of course your puffy boots, thick beige fur covering the boots. one thing about you is your feet were always cold, making you use like 3 layers of socks!
you arrived late night, making the cold even worse but you managed to cover the lower half of your face with your scarf, seriously the cold was so bad in here. as you disembarked from the helicopter, the biting russian cold embraced you, making you shiver involuntarily.
you were greeted warmly by your captain “nice to see you again over here” he smiled warmly “i’m glad too, really missed the artic” he laughed at that, how could he be out here with only a small jacekt?!
he noticed your shivering frame, you thought you were hiding it well, making him start leading you through the snow-covered landscape over to base.
upon entering, all eyes turned towards you – a mix of amazement and curiosity danced in the gaze of your new colleagues, you knew your boots were quite attention catching, probably why everyone kept staring at you.
to say you were pretty was little, it was obvious everyone in the room found you beautiful, but you didn’t pay it any mind, again thinking maybe your boots were standing out a bit too much, not the way your thighs looked so good with the skirt on top, but! they would need to get used to see your babies, they were your go-to in cold weather.
however, one pair of eyes stood out, belonging to keegan. he almost looked mesmerized with you. he watched you stride with an unyielding confidence, almost model like, the skirt making your hips move so so pretty, that it was making it hard for him to stop staring at you.
somehow your eyes found his, thanking the heavens you had your scarf covering your cheeks because you were blushing so hard rn, his gaze lingered, an admiring intensity in his eyes that you almost tripped.
only his eyes, a window to the unspoken thoughts within, were visible, making you curious. as his fellow soldier spoke, keegan’s attention remained freezed on you, his focus unyielding, and the words of his comrade fading into the background of his silent admiration.
the spell was broken as soon as the captain opened the door to his office, inviting you in to debrief the mission with you. you were going with keegan’s team to help them gather intel, they were trying to find a very big drug dealer, and you translating, would help them find him faster.
tomorrow morning would be your first mission with them, yet you still didn’t know who keegan was, making it intriguing whom you’d be working with.
captain showed you your room, it was a basic military room, a twin sized bed in the middle, small vanity to your left, a desk in the other size to the room, and a small window, last but not least, your own bathroom.
you pleaded your boss to give you your own bathroom, there was enough experiences a girl can have in a shared bathroom used by men.
you started investigating about who you were translating for tomorrow, loosing the track of time. by the time you finished it was 3 am, making you worry a little, you were leaving tomorrow at 6 am.
you were almost going to bed when your stomach rumbled, making you internally groan, you knew that if you didn’t sleep, insomnia would make its way to you.
rolling your eyes you went to the kitchen, you thought everyone was asleep rn, so you paid no mind yo your outfit, a small cropped sweatshirt, leggings and fluffy slippers.
you were about to eat your slice of bread with jam when a sudden voice made you drop it to the washer “can’t sleep?” “jesus fuck!” you swore you felt your heart stop for a second, you never saw anyone in here!
you turned around to see the same guy from before, keegan, who just stared at you, seated in a chair with a book in his hands, it almost looked like he was trying to contain his laugh.
“what’s wrong with you!” you said with a smile laughing, he probably saw your bread jump to the washer “me? nothing, was just asking” he said it so proud of himself “how do you even read with all the lights off?” by now you had turned to him, still by the counter “i wasn’t reading, i was drinking tea” “oh” you never saw the cup of tea beside the book silly you.
“just know you ruined my dinner” you said pouting “and you asked my what’s wrong with me” he said scoffing “oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t eat late at night” “no i do princess, just not a bread with jam at 3 in the morning” his nickname made you stop your breath for a second, deciding to pay no mind to it “but you do you princess” he was by your side now, putting his cup of tea in the washer, until you saw him freeze next to you, there was small light coming from outside, oh yea, you had no bra on.
he could see see your breasts, your nipples to be precise, under your sweatshirt, practically begging to be touched, your sweatshirt was so small it had ridden up just a tiny bit when you were making your dinner, making keegan see a small part of your under breast.
“princess” keegan suddenly moved closer to you, making you see his eyes better, revealing a captivating shade of blue, a mesmerizing hue that held a subtle warmth within its cool depths, caught your attention.
his gaze, unwavering in its intensity, sent a gentle warmth through you, leaving a blush on your cheeks again, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection forged in that shared moment.
“you still don’t know my name” which was true making you ask for it, when he said it, he saw the realization in your eyes “oh! i’m working with you in the next mission” you said a bit breathlessly “glad to have you with us” you could see the deep appreciation for you in his eyes.
keegan had heard about you, he knew of your well-regarded reputation as a translator, held a silent acknowledgment of the confidentiality that shrouded your professional endeavors.
in the subtle lines of his expression, you could see respect for the enigma that surrounded you, a recognition that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. “thank you” you said, he just nodded to you, he was so close to you now you could feel his chest, and his chest could feel your nipples. you just held your breath keeping eye contact with him “well, princess, you must get your sleep, i won’t keep you up” you were in a trance when he moved, snapping you out of it “goodnight keegan” you said in a small voice. keegan smiled behind his mask.
ever since then, a connection quietly unfolded between you and keegan. it initially started as him being a distant observer, he always kept his eyes on you everywhere you went, even more when you were speaking russian towards the males, you held such confidence with you he was deeply allured with you.
his presence evolved into a silent shield, a comforting assurance amidst the unfamiliarity of a foreign land. he may couldn’t understand russian, but he sure as hell could see the body language and the tones they were speaking to you.
everytime he could sense any sort of verbal assault at you, his steely gaze fixed upon the adversaries with an intensity that spoke volumes, as well as his hidden raised gun;), sensing the weight of his silent threat, they found themselves silenced. even though you had no idea he was threatening them behind you.
you always knew keegan had your back, and silently thanked him for it. as the time passed, you felt keegan more protective of you, and you more attentive of him, you two were almost all the time together.
there were moments, a shared smile in the midst of icy winds, or a wordless understanding in the chaos of a mission, that spoke louder than words. in these instances, his protective instinct manifested – a steady hand guiding you through the challenges, a silent assurance that you were not alone. metaphorically as well as physically.
his interactions evolved into a touch that carried a warmth beyond mere protection. his gestures, once purely professional, became tinged with an affectionate familiarity.
a guiding hand on the small of your back during a mission briefing or a reassuring touch on your shoulder in moments of uncertainty, each contact seemed to convey a connection that lingered beyond the realm of your relationship.
these touches carried a feeling of something more, a silent language of shared emotions between you and him. in the hushed moments when his hand lingered a second longer than necessary or the gentle squeeze that accompanied a reassuring smile.
in the dim glow of the base's common area, keegan’s touches continued to weave a tapestry of unspoken connection. a shared moment over a map had his fingers brushing against yours, the contact lingering for a heartbeat longer than required, it was practically normal for you to be blushing around him now.
during a particularly challenging mission, his arm found its way around your shoulders, a protective embrace in the face of caos. in that moment you just wanted to be beside him all the time, you felt safe around him.
there was also a time in which keegan was behind you, listening to what you would be doing, until he felt rather not okay with what you were supposed to do. he suddenly put his hand discreetly on your waist, and the other arm in front of your chest, his hand subtly telling “no”
“she’s with us, meaning we protect her, what you’re saying is risky for her, she won’t do it” you felt warmth on your chest. you have never experienced this, the other teams you had been were never this attentive with you. it was a weird emotion for you, you were used to always seek for yourself.
in the quiet of the nights, a shared gaze held more than words could express. keegan’s hand, a reassuring presence, sought yours across the table, fingers intertwining with yours, squeezing your fingers every now and then. he did that more times than you could count.
the line between friendship and something deeper became increasingly blurred, leaving both of you suspended in the uncharted territory of unspoken emotions.
the endearing term "princess" slipped from his lips almost all the time, a word you loved hearing from him even though you never tell him. it became a private language, whether in the midst of a mission or during quiet evenings, the endearment echoed, making you warm inside all the time.
keegan’s feelings had transcended the boundaries of friendship, evolving into a profound connection that bordered into almost being in love with you.
his gaze, once intense, now carried a softness that showed a deep admiration, a mesmerizing allure that held him captivated in your presence.
his eyes just seemed to follow you everywhere, absorbing every detail of you, every facet of your being, as if etching your essence into his soul.
the desire to be with you became a palpable force, an unspoken longing that lingered in the spaces between conversations. the way his fingers sought yours, the way he leaned in, just a fraction closer than necessary – each action seemed to fluster you more and more.
you too couldn’t deny it, you felt drawn to him, but even with the warmth of his company and shared moments, there was a bit of confusion.
your feelings were kind of mixed up, wanting to connect with him but also feeling unsure about it. it’s like a struggle between what your heart wants and what your head is thinking.
you just don’t know how to respond to him :(
figuring out your own feelings became a bit like wandering through a maze, with no clear destination.
being close to keegan made you feel good, but accepting his love brought its own set of uncertainties. you tried taking things one step at a time, trying to make sense of your own heart and the budding feelings between you two.
until you just couldn’t anymore
you were in a very heated meeting with keegan, as always, behind you, talking to a very dangerous person, in a very dangerous place, at any moment now something could happen, making you feel on edge all the time there. you felt keegan’s hand hold your shoulder softly, reminding you he is here with you.
in the middle of the conversation, you saw in less than a second the man’s eyes change, from angry, to weirdly happy, like he was going to be free from all this interrogation. you were confused, until you heard it.
bullets and bullets and more bullets echoed in the building, as well as some passing through the windows in the small office you were. in a second keegan had moved you, shielding you from any possible damage
you heard him speak to the captain, the captain said they were under attack, making difficult to get out of there. you were alone inside with keegan and the man, he was tied to the table though, so you weren’t worried he would escape.
keegan held you behind his back, opening the door and checking if it was safe to go out. he made a clear sign and went to the right side. you were shaking of fear, you could hear explosions all over the place, the shaking of the floor, bullets everywhere, it was crazy.
suddenly a man spawned out of nowhere pulling keegan and tried stabbing him.
the military gave you a gun before you left, you had basic military training, knew how to use a gun, yet never needed to. but seeing keegan almost being stabbed made you react on instinct, you pulled your gun in less than a second and shoot the bastard. keegan’s was free from the man’s arm and shot another bullet between his head.
you just stood there, the adrenaline was making it hard to process what just happened, but you could feel your body trembling with fear, you may have possibly just killed a man. you’ve never done that in your life.
keegan saw the fear in your eyes “princess, hey, i need you to focus on me” keegan’s grabbed your face, you stared at him, worry clear in your eyes “you saved me and you’re a fucking badass for that” keegan’s appreciation words dragged you out of the dark thoughts you were falling to.
you both heard footsteps approaching you, making keegan grab your hand, tight, and walked to the other direction, you moved faster than him, adrenaline was making you rushed now, until you were about to move to the other corner of the hallway and saw armed men looking for, you supposed, keegan and you.
you pushed keegan back, startling him for a second, until he could hear the voices. you had a door next to you, keegan opened it and dragged you both inside. it was small, very small, yet enough for hiding. keegan turned you so his back was to the door, always protecting you first.
you on the other hand, was shaking shitless again, you could understand what they were saying, they were here for you, obviously not happy at all that you knew about what they were doing.
keegan once again tried dragging you out of your starting panic attack, he said your name twice trying to get your attention. you looked at him, you were very much fucking scared.
“hey, you’re with me, i won’t let anything happen to you okay?” you felt one of keegan’s hand hold your head softly, the other went to your back. you then realized he was hugging you, you were so close to each other he didn’t even need to moved you closer. you moved your hands to hold his back too, resting your head on his shoulder.
in the middle of the chaotic circumstances, keegan emerged as your anchor, his presence became the grounding point that helped you survive this.
it was then when it hit you, the realization, the profound connection that resonated beyond words. attempting to utter his name, you found your voice stifled by anxiety, your very core trembling with fear.
keegan, ever perceptive, tightened his hold around you, a silent reassurance.
as the threat passed by your door, keeping your mouth shut became a necessity, not just for the mission at hand but also to guard the burgeoning emotions inside you.
after a few minutes, you could hear them muffled, meaning they were far. keegan opened the door, still holding you, and looked out, he saw that it was clear “let’s go princess”
the next few minutes was you and keegan trying to get out of here, it was almost like a maze, the explosions seemed to calm down as well as the bullets. but there was still people looking for you.
you were about to turn to your left when a hand grabbed you from your neck, choking you, you tried to scream, but the man was fast, he suddenly pushed you to the wall, punching you in the face, almost breaking your nose, but you moved just in time your face, hitting you in the cheek.
you suddenly remembered you had a gun, you pulled it out, raising it fast to the middle of his head and shot him quick.
it was ugly, scary, and it glued you to your spot, all his blood soaked you, yet his hold on you loosened, making the man fall to your shoulder, surely staining your coat.
you were so fucking scared you thanked the lord keegan grabbed the man and lunched him to the wall behind.
you were again almost in shock, but keegan was in front of you fast “come on baby, we need to leave this hell” keegan kept dragging you, your body fully trusting him, because you were going into shock now.
you saw light, and finally you were out, a few dead people scattered on the ground, not helping you at all.
it until you saw the familiar humvee you felt slight ease. everyone saw your state, blood soaking all your face, dripping all over your coat. quite a sight. keegan just shakes his head to his teammates, silently telling them that you needed space now.
the soldiers admired you, even cared for you after all this time, it was clear seeing you like this worried them, but they trusted keegan, and they know you trust keegan too.
keegan helped you up the humvee, sitting next to you, you felt him whispering beside you “you okay?” you just nodded taking a small ragged breath, wiping your nose. you felt disgusting, you could feel the man’s blood dripping down your nose, the need to shower was strong right now.
keegan just softly held your hand, squeezing it to help you ground yourself, but you just couldn’t, you were so bloody anxious right now you couldn’t stop moving your leg up and down.
keegan felt it, slightly worried about you, he knew you’ve never been in combat before, let alone kill someone. you felt his hand slowly let go of yours, and put it on top of your thigh, making you halt your movements.
he kept it there slightly above your knee, massaging a little, not daring to move his hand up higher.
the ride to base was just the captain talking to someone on the radio, other than that, it was silent.
as soon as you arrived to base, you hurried out of the humvee, and fast towards the barracks, feeling the weight of the mission on your shoulders. you desperately needed the shower.
keegan stayed by the humvee, not following you right away. he stood there, giving you room. he could understand the impact of what just happened, and knew letting you calm down first was a good idea.
the letting you calm down time meant maybe you would come out of your room later, but now, it was 11:45 pm, and keegan was more than worried about you now. he had no idea you were still in the shower, living the past event over and over in your head.
you just couldn’t erase the image from your brain, just seeing the man’s eyes go lifeless in front of you, it was such a crazy thing to look at, and you weren’t dealing with it very okay.
you felt dirty, even though you cleaned your body more than twice. you had lost the track of time, you were so inside your brain you forgot to eat something. your stomach begging for food now, making you feel nauseous.
you just put on a brown long sleeve sweatshirt with some random leggings. you knew it was last midnight now, making it easier for you, you didn’t want to see anyone right now.
keegan, on the verge of heading to your room, noticed you entering the kitchen. your eyes were red, and your nose was puffy – the signs of tears evident. the concern on his face deepened as he observed the aftermath of emotions that had washed over you. he paused, recognizing the fragility in your demeanor, reconsidering whether to approach and offer comfort in this vulnerable moment.
spotting keegan in the kitchen, you froze in place. your hair, still damp, added a chill to the atmosphere, and a subtle shiver ran through you. keegan stood there, his worry evident in his eyes. the unspoken concern made you feel a twinge of guilt for disappearing, realizing the impact it had on him.
feeling the wave of emotions crash over you once again, tears welled up, and sobs escaped despite your efforts. a whispered "i'm sorry" escaped your lips, muffled by your trembling hand pressed against your mouth. the vulnerability laid bare.
in an instant, keegan was by your side. dressed in a simple black sweatshirt and cargo pants, he became your anchor once again.
his chest against your trembling form, you held him tight, as if seeking solace in the warmth of his presence. his hands gently cradled your head and waist, offering a silent reassurance, “nothin’ to be sorry about princess” you could feel his deep voice rumble in his chest “it’s okay”
his hand now gently petting your hair as you clung to him. between sobs, you began to express the guilt weighing on your chest. "i feel so bad for leaving like that" you admitted, the words punctuated by shaky breaths.
the shock of your actions you did a while ago lingered, casting a shadow on your thoughts. the vulnerability in sharing your feelings with keegan felt both liberating and daunting. it was a bad habit of yours, disappear whenever you felt any emotion that wasn’t happiness. it was normal to you:( even if it’s been more than 12 hours since you last emerged from your room.
keegan’s voice, calm and reassuring, cut through the heaviness of the moment. "it's okay," he whispered, his hand still tenderly stroking your hair. "you're here now, and that's what matters."
a flicker of strength ignited within you, and you stood a little taller, you pressed a tender kiss on keegan’s cheek, your hand lingering on his face for a heartbeat. his eyes held an unspoken love, you could see it clearly now.
keegan’s question for the kiss hung in the air, a gentle curiosity evident in his gaze. you felt his mask close and his breaths deepen, you took a moment, meeting his intense eyes. "it’s a thank you," you said softly, "for always protecting me."
his response was a tightening of the embrace, bringing you even closer. his face, now near yours, held an intensity matched by the deep breaths he took. in a rough voice deep with emotion, he confessed, "you driving me fucking crazy." the admission hung in the air, your cheeks flushing furiously.
a playful challenge danced in your eyes as you maintained intense eye contact. "what if you show me how much I drive you crazy?" you suggested, your doe eyes locked onto his.
a groan escaped him as he dropped his head to your shoulder. laughter bubbled from you, but your breath hitched as keegan shifted, causing your sweatshirt to ride up slightly. the short length and absence of a bra made you almost flash him your right breast.
keegan could feel it, in fact, he could feel your nipples pressed on him since he hugged you, making his pants feel tighter.
you felt keegan’s hand move up, near your breast, starting to massage there, making you blush furiously “may i remind you were are still in public keegan” you didn’t want anyone walk in on keegan almost touching your breasts, in the middle of the kitchen.
startling you in a swift motion, he lifted you off the ground, his strong hold on your bum leaving you feeling both surprised and strangely like jelly inside, and before you could voice your concerns, he began walking towards your room.
you were silently screaming at him about the possibility of getting caught, but keegan just tightened his hold on you more like squeezing your booty, effectively silencing you.
the situation didn't seem to faze him as he navigated the corridors, your protests muted in the intensity of the moment. the world outside seemed to fade away as keegan carried you and opened your door, leaving behind a trail of laughter and a flutter of unspoken excitement.
you thought he was going to drop you now, but no! he just went to your bed, and dropped you, making you bounce and laugh at what he just did “such a romantic” keegan just held the back of your legs and dragged you near his cock.
that motion made your shirt roll up, now showing him your bare breasts. you widened your eyes a little, but keegan looked like he was more enamored by you now “what a fucking sight i have” he couldn't help but revel in the intimate view of you beneath him. your eyes, filled with affection, locked onto his, radiating a warmth that mirrored the depth of your connection.
the air thickened with tension, and keegan couldn't ignore the tightening in his pants, a physical response to the emotional intimacy and the allure of the moment. “look how you make me feel princess” you could feel it, near your cunt, his big cock, making a big tent in his pants.
you just couldn’t anymore, you rolled your hips up a little, the sensation almost made you cum on the spot, but keegan just made a noise of disapproval “nuh uh, let me have my time with my princess yeah?” you blushed even more when keegan took a hold of your hips, and slowly moved his hands up, dying to touch your breasts.
when his hands finally felt them, he was on cloud 9. they were so soft and moldeable in his hands he could feel precum leaking from his cock. keegan lowered himself close your breasts, rolled his mask up, and licked your nipple making you moan.
he started sucking on your nipple like a man starved, while the other hand groped your other breast, pinching your nipple and rolling it between his fingers. you were panting, his hands were god sent, as well as his mouth.
that’s when you felt the sudden urge to kiss him. and you couldn’t wait anymore. feeling the magnetic pull, you took charge, gently dragging his face upward to meet yours. in a bold move, your lips crashed against his, a collision of desire and longing.
a sound of contentment escaped keegan, emotions flowing between you like an electric current. the world outside the moment ceased to exist as the intensity of the kiss spoke volumes, an unspoken exchange of emotions and desires woven into the fabric of that stolen, passionate embrace.
keegan deepened the kiss even more, angling your head better, he was heaven sent. in the heat of the kiss, your hands, seemingly of their own accord, found their way to his mask. it became an unconscious exploration, a touch laden with curiosity. unexpectedly, keegan broke the kiss, startling you, and swiftly snatched away his mask.
in the soft glow of the small light, his face was revealed, and you found yourself enraptured by the sight of him.
"you’re so beautiful" the words slipped from your lips almost involuntarily. a deep resonance of satisfaction echoed in keegan’s chest, and without a moment's hesitation, he dragged you up. seated on his knees, you found yourself straddling him, his hands on your waist and bum, fondling with it making you whine, as your lips met again in a deep, intoxicating kiss, yet you felt needy.
involuntarily you moved your hips, grinding right on his cock, making him groan deeply “fuck baby, you’re going to make me cum” knowing he was as aroused as you made you feel even more needy, making you grind your hips even more.
keegan’s hand took a hold of your hips, making you stop your movements. you whined again, even surprising you, you’ve never met this side of you, so needy of someone.
keegan's touch on your face was soft, almost reverent. he spoke with a gentle intensity, "i want to worship you. let me." the request hung in the air, and you, captivated by the depth of his gaze, agreed with a simple nod.
with deliberate tenderness, keegan laid you back onto the bed, his hands moving to the fabric of your clothes. He began with your sweatshirt, each movement deliberate and unhurried, as if unraveling the layers of vulnerability and desire between you two. as he raised your sweatshirt up, his hands once again touched your breasts, making you moan lowly.
keegan just smirked, having removed your sweatshirt, he then proceeded to shed his own shirt. the unveiling of his toned body drew an involuntary blush to your cheeks. his eyes caught yours, and a playful smile graced his lips.
"like what you see?" he teased, the husky timbre of his voice adding a layer of seduction to the moment. the air hung heavy with anticipation as you met his gaze, your response a silent affirmation that echoed in the space between you two.
keegan, still holding your gaze with an intensity that spoke volumes, continued his deliberate exploration. his hands, deft and unhurried, moved to your leggings.
with tenderness, he peeled them away, revealing more of your vulnerability. the room seemed to pulse with shared desire as each layer of clothing fell away, creating an intimate tapestry of connection between you and Keegan.
you were only with your panties on now, and keegan with his grey boxers, not hiding anything, making you slightly anxious, he looked very big, and you’ve never done this before.
a sudden realization gripped you, and you couldn't help but say, "wait" keegan, on the verge of sliding your panties off, halted immediately, his expression shifting to one of concern.
nervously, you confessed, "i’ve never done this before." the vulnerability in your admission hung in the air, an unspoken plea for understanding and patience. the room, once charged with desire, now held a new layer of intimacy.
keegan, surprised by your revelation, felt a renewed sense of responsibility. he looked into your eyes, the desire tempered with understanding, and reassured you, "i’ll go slow. we’ll take it at your pace."
his words carried a gentle promise, a commitment to make you feel at ease in this intimate moment. keegan then slowly slide your panties off, your cunt now bare and displayed in front of him. keegan just stared at it for a second, absolutely beautiful he thought; all shiny with your slick, begging for some attention. and who was he to deny it.
one thing about keegan, he loved foreplay, and you, you liked it too, but he’s made you cum twice! fingers and tongue involved, you weren’t complaining, but you really wanted his cock now.
from where you were, you could see his boxer stained with precum, making you whine, you were past needy now “i need you keegan, please” keegan heard the whiny tone from you, making his cock even more hard.
“such a needy princess aren’t you” keegan swiftly removed his boxers down, his cock sprang free on his stomach. your mouth was watering just seeing it. it was big, veiny and thick.
you didn’t think it, you were on all 4s now, keegan was looking behind dropping his boxer when he felt your mouth on his cock, making him hiss loud as well as whined “fuck princess, what are you doing?” you could hear his voice strained, like he was containing himself.
you didn’t answer, it was your first time doing this, yet you felt confident when you swallowed almost his whole cock down your throat, making keegan’s hands grab your head, pushing you deeper, making his eyes roll back.
“who taught you this?” he was a panting mess now, you kept bobbing your head up and down, using your angelic hands to grab his balls, swollen with his cum, massaging them, making keegan go all over the edge.
he didn’t warn you, just grabbed your head dragging it all the way down, thrusting his big cock down your throat, moaning loud. you decided to look at him then, giving your best puppy eyes you could, making keegan mesmerized with you, you could see all his reactions from here, his stomach clenching, his mouth panting, and his eyes full of love.
“i’m gonna cum love” you felt keegan trying to move his cock out of your mouth, but you just grabbed his hips, pushed them to you, and moving your tongue around his veiny cock.
keegan cummed on the spot, thick white ropes of cum going all the way down your throat, you as the princess you are, swallowed it whole, keeping your hand on his balls, feeling them clench everytime he cummed.
you were sure keegan was about to pass out now, that was the hardest orgasm he’s ever felt.
his desire was evident in the intensity of his gaze, deciding to take charge. his hands gently grasped your head, lifting you slightly making you put your hands on his big muscular chest. a deep, intense kiss ensued, each meeting of your lips sending a shiver through your body.
keegan murmured a sweet praise, "you’re such a beautiful good girl aren’t you?" he was still in his post orgasmic state, making you laugh a little, but this man had a very strong stamina.
you could feel his cock hard again in between your stomach making you put your hand on top of his slit. he bucked his hips a little “come on now” he said with a strained voice “let me make you feel good” desire evident in his voice.
keegan laid you down on the bed, moving your thighs open, letting your cunt once open to him. keegan not waisting a second now, aligned his cock with your cunt, dragging it up and down your folds “stop teasing keegan” you said pouting.
it took you by surprise when you felt his tip in your entrance, making you stop your breath for a second, keegan was smirking now, how easy it was to shut your needy ass up.
“i’ll go slow yeah? you tell me if it too much princess” keegan started sliding his thick cock insided your virgin cunt, it felt weird, a slight burn everytime he slide deeper.
keegan on the other hand was in awe, he saw your cunt swallowing his cock inside, inch by inch, your puffy clit at view too. in a second keegan had his hand on your clit, slowly circling it, making you moan, allowing his cock to slide further.
once he bottomed, he stayed there, he was still on his knees, allowing him a beautiful view. you had your knees next to your breasts, his cock swallowed by your cunt, your face flushed.
he couldn’t wait anymore, keegan dropped his forearms next to your head, and started grinding his cock inside your cunt. you felt so full, and him grinding was almost hitting your womb, making you moan loudly. “keegan you’re so deep” you said frowning from pleasure, your nails were on his big muscular biceps, hanging on for dear life.
“does it feel good?” “very fucking good” you said moaning the last word, keegan had his head hidden on your neck, his pace now a bit faster, balls hitting your ass everytime he thrusted, the skin to skin slapping sound resonating all over your room, creating such an erotic scene.
keegan then raised his head and kissed you deeply, his hand holding your head softly, you could feel him even deeper now. he had you on a mating press, his chest squeezing your breasts making your nipples stand out even more “you feel so fucking good princess” “this cunt belongs to me yeah” “you’re all fucking mine”
keegan kept saying this small praises everytime he thrusted, but what made your orgasm come quick was when he said you were his. yes you were. you were his since you met him. he was there for you ever since then, always by his side, always his.
“y-yes i am” keegan’s intense gaze was on you now “i’m yours keegan, all yours” he hit a particular spot inside you that you saw stars, moaning loud “say that again princess” “i’m yours” keegan was about to cum just from hearing you say that.
“and you’re all mine” you kissed him hard when you said that. keegan never thought you were the possessive type, yet when he heard you say that, you could say he fell in love even deeper “you’re all fucking mine keegan” you started meeting his thrusts with your hips, your clit rubbing with his stomach making your orgasm come fast.
keegan could feel it, you were clenching stronger now, almost making him stop his movements “you cumming princess?” that goddamn nickname was going to be the death of you “i want to cum with you”
your needy voice made keegan tighten his hold on you, and thrust deeper, and slower. keegan grabbed your face and kissed you, his other hand rubbing your clit. making you cum hard.
keegan cummed in an instant too, feeling your cunt clenching around his cock too, your orgasm so hard you closed your eyes. he cummed inside you, sliding even further, letting all his cum coat your walls with him. only him.
he stayed there for a while, letting you come down from the high. you were breathing hard, his cock now softening inside you, yet you didn’t want him to come out yet.
you used your feet to hit him on the hips, making him slide a bit more “stay here for a while” keegan caught the message, you wanted to cuddle. with him still inside you.
you were a sucker for cuddles, and touch starved. so when keegan laid down, still inside you, and dragged you almost on top of him, you felt shivers down your spine.
as keegan’s arms enveloped you in a tender embrace, a warmth spread through you, reaching the neglected corners of your soul. the gentle cradle of his arms was a stark contrast to the void you hadn’t realized existed, a reminder of the absence of such intimate touch in your life.
his arms forming a protective cocoon around you, fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. the rise and fall of his chest against your back mirrored the rhythm of shared breaths, creating a serene melody.
it wasn't just the physical closeness; it was the profound sense of being seen and held, a silent promise that in his arms, you were cherished and safe.
a few minutes had passed when you felt keegan sitting up, you as well on his lap, making you pout “don’t make that face” he said condescending “i need to clean you up yeah?”
keegan carried you all the way down your bathroom, again, still inside you, and seated you on the counter. he took a really long look to your breasts. such beautiful breasts just sitting there, making him want to hold them again.
“enjoying the view” you said in a proud tone, keegan just moved his eyes to your face and laid a small kiss to your cheek. you started feeling how keegan slid his now soft cock out your cunt, once it was all out, he just stayed there, looking at both your cunt and his cock “look at the mess you made love”
his cock was full of his cum, and yours, you felt all his cum slide out of your cunt, now on the counter, the sight making keegan’s cock start hardening again, and you saw that as well.
you just stared at him, beautiful doe eyes, and grabbed his cock. “can’t get tired of this cock huh?” you just smiled, stood up, and dragged him to the shower. that was the best shower sex you’ve ever had.
after the shower, keegan was behind you like a lost puppy, just wanting to be near you, touching your waist, squishing it, as well as your bum, all while you were doing your small skin care.
and on bed? keegan was even more cuddly than you! he said, scratch that, obliged you to be the little spoon. now you had his beautiful face right next to you, his hand drawing small circles in your waist, going near your breasts to tease you, your legs tangled beneath the sheets. you could get used to this.
“so, for how long have i driven you crazy?” keegan heard the cheekiness in your voice, you probably knew keegan was head over heels for you, acting all dumb to torture him, making keegan groan behind you “i’m going to keep it with for a while”
you laughed, putting your hands on top of the one that was on your waist, dragging it near your lips, planting a soft kiss there. when you kissed his hand, an unexpected tenderness surged within him, like a flood of warmth.
in response, he hid his face against your neck, as if to shield himself from the cascade of emotions, laying a few kisses here and there. you really could get used to this.
♡
AHHHHHH the end ;’[ i love fluff, was deciding if splitting this into chapters but i got carried away and made it a one shot jiji
hope u liked it!
#keegan p russ#keegan russ x reader#keegan russ x you#call of duty keegan#keegan russ smut#cod keegan#cod smut#call of duty#call of duty fic#keegan russ#keegan russ fic#keegan russ fluff#cod#call of duty smut#simon ghost riley#keegan smut#keegan russ x fic#keegan x reader
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The only thing you want to do is... [Price x fem!Reader]
Price broke his hand on the last mission. Fortunately for him, his caretaker is just as adorable as she is eager to help him in every way.
CW and tags: Legal age gap, power imbalance, daddy kink, pervert!Price, obsessive!Price, coercion into sex, handjob (m!receiving)
Word count: 3246
This work on AO3
You’re such a sunshine, it hurts.
John Price never considered himself to be a good man. He did what he had to do to protect his country, to ensure that big bad terrorists are kept at bay, and foreign militaries are ending up where they belong – somewhere in the ditch, with reports stating KIA an anonymous bullet drugged out of their skulls.
His job was just that – a job, something that had to be done because he knew that someone else, someone worse, would gladly take his place in case of retirement. The captain can be considered a fucking angel compared to some people he is working with – no one would ever dare call him evil when people like Graves still exist out there, hunting for innocents.
But you’re so fucking sweet to him, he simply can’t handle it.
When his arm got injured, and he was forced to get on leave for at least a month – he tried to argue for something less, but Lasswell silently pointed out that he hadn’t had a break in the past five years, and she would kick him out of his own Task Force if he’d continue to refuse – he got assigned a caretaker by Kate recommendation.
John was fully expecting some old lady, probably a retired officer or field medic. Maybe some burly man with too much time on his hands and the ability to give really nice massages under flights of bullets. Perhaps, worst case scenario, he would be assigned an actual; nurse that wouldn’t buy any of his shit – that amount of whiskey he drinks is prescribed by his therapist, smoking cigars in the apartment is a nice form of relaxation, and he actually doesn’t need help and can go in service back again less than in two weeks.
But, the Captain got wee ol’ you, all nice and warm, and adorable, and too fucking young to have anything to do with his apartment.
You’re nice, warm, fresh out of college, where you got some recommendations about rehabilitating veterans back into normal lives. Probably was writing a Thesis about something as dumb as “Healing PTSD through flower crowns and little touches”. You chirp your way into his heart and refuse to go out – just like Kate promised to him, you really didn’t allow him to do anything on his own.
God, it was infuriating – how much he wanted to simply grab your shoulders and kiss you. Or kick you out and find someone else to take care of him, someone boring, someone of appropriate age. Without dumb, bright eyes and cute smiles, without enthusiasm, that can only be seen in unpaid interns and college graduates who still believe that the world is fair and nice.
You cook his dinners and clean up his apartment – as small as it is, never having a family or any other reason to make it even slightly bigger – and you do this with such a wide smile on your face it actually makes Price question basically everything he knows about young ladies doing charity work. You must be paid triple because you fold his underwear in neat little cubes and refuse to accept his help. Always chirped something about his hand like he can’t kill a man with his teeth only.
— I can fold my own pants, love.
He presses his body against the doorframe of the small bathroom – looks at your ass so shamelessly bent over the washing machine. You’re folding his dried clothes, and he can only pray that you aren’t slowly resenting him for being such a disgusting old man. He knew he looked good for his age, 37 years in this world molded him into something that many young women would consider hot – even though his beard is unkept and his hair grew a bit longer since he couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it, and his dominant hand is broken.
— We don’t want to sprain your hand even more, right?
— Everythin’ is alright with my bloody hand…
— Lady Lasswell said I shouldn’t listen to you like this, sir. Sorry.
— Little minx.
— Me or Lady Lasswell?
John looks at you, so eager and cheerful, and he just wants to…he can’t, of course, he stops himself before he even forms the thought because it’s dirty and you don’t deserve this, and your shy smile as you laugh softly and push the last of the laundry in the neat pile on the washing machine.
You look too eager to please, and he has an idea – the one he will never act upon. Maybe will entertain himself later, stroking himself in some abandoned base deep in the snowy tundra, trying to remember your warmth as if a sinner like him can even comprehend your light.
God, you got him so bad, he starts thinking about good ol’ Jesus again. You really are a side to behold, aren’t ya.
He looks at you again – you’re so easy to please. You cook for him, the smell of home cooking that he almost forgot, all the ingredients you invited yourself to buy when he left his card for you. You didn’t think it was weird, not a single mischievous bone in your body – if anything, he was casually prompting you to go and buy yourself something nice, something as compensation for all the trouble you endured for him.
Instead, you went out of your way to cook for him, to make him tea like he wanted it – without sugar, but with a small amount of milk poured into a cup that is probably the most expensive thing in this whole place except for his weapons.
The problem is – John Price doesn’t really like it when people are taking care of him. Not because he is shy or insecure, god forbid, but because he knows that if a pretty young thing like you is going to show him kindness, he will take a fucking mile and make you run from him as fast as you can. He has desires, he has needs, something that pretty good girls like you should know nothing about.
You’re so eager to please that you’ll probably jerk him off if he were to whine about his arm being broken and his inability to get himself off because of it. Which, in turn, gives him an…idea.
Price was never a good person – he isn’t the worst guy either. He sees your reactions, that adorable heat of your face when he brushes his knuckles over your cheek in an affectionate manner. How you are biting your lips every time you have to fold his underwear, when you cook for him, and he presses his body against yours, rocking his hips just gently enough to not make his arousal obvious. John knows you like him in more ways than just one – he doubts that such a lovegirl like you would ever agree to take care of a grumpy military man like him.
He wonders where your father is – probably out of the picture if his precious daughter is almost crying from a desire to please a guy like him. He wonders if you have a boyfriend or if you’re seeing someone else – if you’re a virgin or you already had a series of disappointing sessions with blokes that have no idea how to behave with an angel like you.
Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be taking care of a SAS captain – did your superiors forget to tell you just how girl-hungry men like him are? That he didn’t even bother to find a wife, and the loneliness of a single life will make him fucking explode if a girl as pretty as you were in the vicinity of that perverted old dog. You must be stupid – or so insanely naive, it’s not even funny.
He licks his lips, staring at you again. He is certainly isn’t a good guy – not the worst either, but it’s up for debate. He wants to hold you close and say all of those pretty good things he knows you want to hear. He also wants to push you as close to him as possible and just fuck that pretty girl until you’re begging for him to make you his wife. He’d always laugh at the thought of other military commanders and higher rank soldiers having sugar babies – especially the mercs and their fucking inability to keep a girl who isn’t tied to their paychecks. But now…he might just pay for your adorable pout and eagerness.
Might make a call to that one masked arsehole and ask how the hell he keeps his questionably young wife around without breaking her legs. Visibly, at least.
— Sir? Planet calls for Captain Price.
You giggle when you are waving your hand around him. Shit – looks like he zoned out for a hot minute, leaving you free to stare at his face, the fantom red spreading across his skin as if he is actually embarrassed to be caught like this. He isn’t, of course, he is stronger than some girl trying to get a rise out of him. He thinks he is stronger, at least.
You wave your hand in front of his face again, and the insects are kicking in – captain grabs your hand, not even caring that his supposed helplessness stems from the fact his dominant hand is still broken. He has no problems keeping you in place with just his left hand – and you almost look scared when you understand that you literally can’t move.
Your innocent smile turns into a pathetic whimper when he squeezes you even more. Bruises, no doubt, are starting to form already – well, it should be your fault. Good girls are usually smarter than teasing an old dog like him, even if you’re trying to play innocence. He knows what you are.
His future special girl that is. A wife, if he plays his cards right…and the captain was always good at poker.
— Shite, love. Sorry.
His smile mirrors yours – an innocent display like he didn’t almost break your wrist in his hold. He is still squeezing your hand, but not he slowly presses his lips against your knuckles – thin, dry lips gently caressing your skin in a gesture that you should never accept from a guy who kills people as a job. Who saves people, too – but a good guy with a gun is barely an upgrade from a bad one.
He kisses your fingers and finds heaven in the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. You are certainly embarrassed, and this is exactly what he wants – an old pervert trying to get in the pants of a cute girl who just wants to take care of him without any strings attached. He just has to make this whale thing complicated, isn’t he?
— It’s okay, sir. Just thought I lost you for a second.
— Not a chance.
Your smile looks a tad bit mischievous – that is, or he is simply hallucinating from painkillers he is forced to drink every morning because you refuse to let him feel pain even though he is used to it. You are acting like he is a soft doll made out of pink ribbons and soft plushes, not a seasoned soldier with his own thoughts and ideas about what he can do about your desire to please him. He might just use your eagerness – his cock has been pitching for too long without female attention, and he usually doesn’t indulge in shitty one-night stands in some sketchy pubs, but he can make an exception for now. For you.
You smile awkwardly, still trying to get your hand out of his grasp. Little minx, teasing him like he can’t just push you on this exact washing machine and fuck you like a slut you are. Poor girl, you probably don’t even know what kind of thoughts he has in his head – even though your eyes tell him something your lips cannot articulate.
John acts on his instincts, and they usually don’t deceive him.
— If you want to help so badly, I can think of another way.
— Is that so, sir?
You’re going to get him in so much shit with Lasswell, he doesn’t even know how he is going to get out of it after fucking her best little protege. Would have to marry you – like it’s not his end goal, like he doesn’t want to make your care for him a tad bit more permanent. He has done so many good things for humanity, why can’t he be a bit selfish and get himself a little something to make this place feel more like home?
He thinks of a pretty thing like you, heavy with his kids, cooking something nice and hearty in his house – not this crappy apartment, of course, he’d buy you something in the countryside, away from terrorists and public squares, with good schools and greenery all around.
You lick your lips and tilt your head to the side. He is daydreaming again.
— If you want to make me relax so badly, love, there is something I need help with…
Beating around the bush like this isn’t in his character – but he knows that you’re a good girl, maybe way too good and proper. He can’t just shove his dick in your hand, it would be too unpolite.
He has to prepare you, it’s a slow sniper mission where he needs to approach you as gently and quietly as possible – he still holds your hand in his, a phantom of his lips tucked away on the softness of your skin.
Then he places his hand on his growing erection – as awkwardly as he can operate with only using his left arm as a helper.
Price might not be the master of espionage, but he also didn’t get his rank for not being able to do cover missions under pressuring circumstances and lie in the faces of people who trust him. Not be the best person, of course, but he gives you a choice. You have all the power now – even with his weapons safely stashed in his bedroom, he knows he won’t ever try to force you. He won’t have to.
— Help your captain, eh?
You’re embarrassed, shy, scared even – your hands are trembling, fingers tracing the outline of his cock with morbid curiosity he never thought he’d find this adorable. You don’t stop and don’t try to fight him – like a little animal, nervous and terrified somewhat, you’re slowly indulging yourself in something that you actually shouldn’t.
He lets go of your hand and allows you to continue on your own – like a good girl, you only nod and slowly duck your palm in his boxers. He’d say that the way he is rock-solid just from looking at your ass and pouting on your face is weak, but he can afford to be a bit pathetic after so many weeks without the ability to jerk off. With your watchful gaze, he just couldn’t find it in his heart – or the only remaining working hand – to do something to help with his raging crush on this adorable social worker who comes to help him.
John is many things – a war hero, war criminal, the captain, and the butcher of many who may deem his actions irredeemable. He made peace with not being the poster good guy and often dirtying his hands just to keep the world clean – and he knows that, in the end, he deserves a pretty young thing to jerk him off while he kisses your hairline and whispers sweet nothing with that beautiful accent of his.
— This is not very… appropriate, sir.
— Bullocks, love. You’re helpin’, that’s why you’re here.
You’re nervous when your hand, squeezing his shaft firmly, goes up and down on his cock. You’re trying to find the rhythm in his quiet grunts and little moans, not having too much experience with pleasuring men who you like this much. It’s fear of disappointing him that makes you go wild, that approving gaze of his every time you press your soft fingers against the head of his cock and squeeze a little.
He is throbbing in your palm, pre-cum leaking on the small of your fingers – naturally, you lick it as slowly as possible, not breaking the eye contact.
Price moans.
— Bloody hell, luv…so good for daddy.
The name makes your ears burn, the desire growing in your stomach – you fight the urge to drop on your knees and take him fully in your mouth. This isn’t what he wants, you think, so you just continue to squeeze him more, making sure he is satisfied with every little movement your hand makes. You lick your lips and continue, feeble attempts at containing the rhythm with shaky fingers.
— I just wanted to help you with your life, not…this.
He chuckles, unharmed hand presses on the small of your back to fix you in place. You lick your lips, understanding that he is not going to let you go this easily – you don’t want to behave like this, of course, it’s against the terms of your contract and your agreement to help him without feelings attached, but he moans so deeply for you, hips are buckling to fuck the firmness of your hand like he is ready to use your moist, prepared pussy.
God, what are you even thinking about?
You don’t know if you should be doing this, but the captain is not letting you go – and you can’t even do anything against his wishes, can you?
— We really shouldn’t be doing this.
— Quiet. I’ll help you out after my hand is healed, eh?
— This isn’t what I’m talking about, sir.
— Now, let’s not use that here. I’m sir in the field, not here.
He is manipulating you as hard as he can – he can feel the tension in your eyes and the way you’re squeezing his cock, and he wants nothing more but to simply push you harder, make you fall apart in his hold like a precious porcelain vase. You’re sensitive and shy, just perfect for a bastard like him – his only regret is that the dumb cast on his right hand won’t really allow him to relax to have sex with you properly.
He will pay you back later – on your back, on your knees, on your tummy, moaning his name as he plunges his seed deep into you. It was about time he’d settle down with a pretty wife of his own – he can afford you, certainly.
— I can’t call you daddy, it’s embarrassing…
Your shy words are what send him over the edge. John Price was never a good guy to begin with, but your little pleas are enough to make him cum – and it’s certainly one of the biggest sins he has ever committed. Cute girl like you shouldn’t be so embarrassed about jerking him off, but here you are.
Your hands are covered in cum as he continues to release his seed, only sad because he wasn’t able to breed you properly – that’s the agenda for the time when he finally is freed from this dumb cast. Might just ask Lasswell for extended leave.
— You’ll just have to get used to this, love. Not letting you go after this.
You can only whimper when he kisses you – possessive and tender at the same time. A silent promise of making you his dumb little wife.
#cod#yandere price#price x reader#captain price#john price#captain john price#yandere cod#call of duty#cod imagine#cod fanfic
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merrier the more
pairing - john price x f!reader x john mactavish
wc - 3.2k
warnings - 18+/nsfw, double vaginal penetration, wife sharing, unprotected sex
notes - after a million years i've finally gotten this out of my brain and written out! underrated threesome imo, lets goooo!! proofread but definitely not enough ♥
Thursdays were date nights, almost every week without fail, unless John was on a mission. Even when paperwork keeps him tied to his desk into the dark of the night, you join him in his office with takeout and a good book, content to enjoy his company in silence.
It was one of the keys to your marriage being as successful as it is, and both you and John agreed—quality time was a must.
This Thursday was a break in routine—John's energy has been decidedly different since you stepped foot in his office. He's always a little on edge when you see him at work, his jaw and shoulders tight, but tonight there's a hint of determination in his eyes.
Captain Price is present, rather than your husband, John.
The second difference comes in the form of a knock on the door, usually, the two of you go undisturbed as your standing date is known among the 141, and none of the men dare interrupt and draw their captain's ire. On the rare occasion that a knock would come, words would be exchanged quickly before being dismissed.
Tonight, John invites the guest inside.
"Sit, Soap." John commands, his voice low and dripping with authority in a way that draws your attention.
The younger man complies, seemingly not on edge—his usual cocky confidence is still in full swing, in defiance of your expectations of the situation. Whatever Johnny is here for, he's not to be reprimanded or to report something grim.
Both men's eyes are firmly fixed on you, gazes roaming over the way you lounge in your pretty dress on John's shitty office couch, your legs exposed to both of them.
"C'mere love," John speaks, rolling back his office chair and patting his thigh temptingly. "Need your help with something."
You rise uncertainty, leaving your book behind as you make your way over to your husband, your eyes darting between him and his subordinate. Neither man says a word, just continuing to watch you as you move closer to them.
Your mind starts to race, thinking of just what John could possibly need your help with. Occasionally, he asks you to read one of his men's imperceptible handwriting or gets into a debate with you about whether his own reports make grammatical sense.
Something tells you neither is the case this time.
When you make your way around the desk, you fall into John's lap obediently, facing away from him and watching Johnny watch you.
The look in his eyes is not something you're blind to, not now, not ever. John MacTavish has always wanted you. John Price has never let you forget it—he's teased you multiple times about his soldier's crush, and made you admit while being fucked mindless to being attracted to the younger man too.
Your husband got off on knowing his power, knowing that you belong to him regardless of Johnny or any other man's wishes, and knowing that while your eyes can still appreciate other men, they'll never be enough compared to Price himself.
You sit patiently and wait, deferring to John and his air of authority as you wait for him to speak whenever he is good and ready. The silence is thick, John's paw trailing across your thigh, up to your waist where he holds you still, his grip insistent.
"Sergeant MacTavish here is about to become a Lieutenant." He begins again, graveled voice now right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "If Soap is getting a promotion, I need to know he can get the job done."
John snaps his fingers at the Sergeant, beckoning him around the desk as John spins you both to face where Johnny is now standing. His hands move back down your body to your thighs, parting your legs slightly by opening his own so that you sit spread.
You know exactly where this is headed. Johnny's azure eyes burn into you as they spectate every single one of John's slow, luxurious movements—touches that slowly begin to undo you. The air in the room thickens, and your skin burns under John's fingers.
Johnny's eyes flicker away, and you can tell the captain is holding his gaze.
"Need to know I can depend on him, and that he can do what he needs." He purrs, his tone filled with intent. "That he'll take what he wants, yeah?"
John pulls up the hem of your dress, exposing your now-soaked panties to his sergeant and delighting in the way you both shiver in response—you from being exposed, Johnny from finally getting to lay eyes on intimate parts he'd only dreamed of.
You stay obediently frozen as John teases you further—the whiskers of his beard tickling at your neck as he smirks, his fingers stroking so softly up your inner thighs.
When you look back and catch Johnny looking you right in the eye, you swear you can feel yourself gush—he looks like he wants to devour you whole.
"He's always wanted you, love. Isn't that right, sergeant?"
"Yes, sir." Johnny agrees so eagerly, but the look he sends your way is anything but submissive. His grin is almost predatory, his anticipation and arousal clear after years of lusting after you from afar.
Johnny finally comes closer, his hands settling on the arms of John's chair as his face stops inches away from your face—hot breath sweeping over your features. One hand moves to clutch at your jaw, demanding your attention as if it wasn't already entirely focused on him. "Tonight, you're mine."
He growls the words before diving in for a searing kiss, his actions rough and hungry, bordering on violently enthusiastic. His stubble is so different from John's softer brush, nipping at your sensitive skin.
"Only for tonight, MacTavish." Your husband growls from behind you, pulling your hips back into his hard cock as a reminder. He might be sharing you, but it's just this once. You'll always be his.
As Johnny kisses you fervently, his hands begin to wander too, groping at your tits as John continues to hold you steady as he works his erection into your ass. While the sergeant occupies your mouth, John sucks kisses into your neck, humming at the feel of you falling apart under both men's touches.
You gather just enough strength to surface for breath—panting and shaken under their joint attention. Neither of them shows signs of stopping. While your husband was offering you to another man, he wasn't going to sit back and watch either.
"Both of you?" You gasp, words unsteady and breathless. Handling John under normal circumstances was hard enough, throwing Johnny into the mix might just break you.
You shiver with need as the men share a laugh, and John's hand slips up to embrace the column of your neck. "Someone has to show him how to do it, love."
The two men dive back into making you fall apart, a flurry of lips and hands tearing you apart at the seams and driving you mindless with each touch.
"Fuuuck." Johnny practically whines, his hands falling to grope at your tits and pull them free out of the top of your dress.
His hands are calloused and warm in a familiar way, but his movements are quick and rough and make you squirm under his touch. The two sets of hands on you are almost too much already, as well as John's erection rubbing against your core.
A quick flicker of your gaze to the sergeant's jeans shows he's similarly affected, and the sight of his hard cock straining against the denim has you wanting.
It's hard to think straight with every sensation you feel, every thought consumed by the two men ravaging you—yet your mind flickers back to the conversation you and John had months ago now, the one where he mentioned sharing you.
You turn your head to the side, snuggling into your husband's cheek as you whisper to him. "I always thought it'd be—"
He interrupts you with a greedy kiss, before freeing you to continue speaking. "—Simon, if you ever actually went through with this..."
You sigh through your words, Johnny almost biting at you when he hears the other man's name fall from your lips.
The truth is, you had thought it'd be Simon that John invited into the bedroom first, as his trusted right hand and someone he knew would be discreet. Clearly, though, your husband had been paying more attention to your soft spot for the sergeant than you thought.
How long had he been concocting this plan? Waiting for the opportunity to have you at Johnny's mercy too.
Said man's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back to the smirk on his face and the sparkle in his eyes. "Don't tell me yer disappointed, bonnie."
You can tell from the way his voice drips with amusement that he knows you're anything but. The easy confidence has always been part of his charm, but as he toys with your breasts and stares down at you expectantly, knowing exactly what he's doing to you—that confidence feels like lightning down your spine.
"Far from it, Johnny." You whisper, finally taking an action of your own and pulling the man in for another kiss. It's sloppy and messy, more teeth and tongue than lips, but Johnny's mouth tastes so good, and his need is evident in every single brush of him against you.
His hands climb to cup your jaw, holding you exactly as he wants you as his tongue explores your mouth and dances with yours—it's dirty the way he kisses, the way he groans into your mouth as you thread your fingers into his mohawk, the way he swallows your own moans as John bucks up from below you.
Johnny pulls away, his chest heaving as he presses his forehead against yours and holds you in a tender moment. "Ye must have a thing for blue eyes, aye?" He smirks once more, and you wish you could protest, but the sparkling blues had been what captured your attention first about both men.
One set belonging to the man that you married, one set belonging to the man you'll now get to fuck.
The blue eyes before you flicker down, breaking the connection as his hands wander lower—down past your breasts, brushing past your husband's on their way to your thighs. He grasps greedily at your softness, kneading his touch into your skin as he parts your thighs, exposing your soaked panties to his burning gaze.
"'m gonna touch that little kitty of yours now." He purrs, his curled finger brushing across your sensitive inner thighs in a way that makes your legs squirm—even more so when he traces up the hem of your panties.
"Didn't say you could, MacTavish." Your husband all but growls, his usual authority bursting through him.
Johnny ignores his captain entirely, his fingers pushing your panties aside to plunge deep into your weeping cunt—he curls them against your walls, a wolfish smirk directed at you, watching you flail as he continues to disregard John's words in favour of driving you crazy.
"Don't remember asking, captain." He snarls in response, taking control.
The sound of your cunt getting ravished by Johnny's fingers fills the room, drawing sweet whines out of you. One hand works to find the best angle to scrape against your spongy walls, his other coming to replace John's as he holds your neck and stares you down.
You feel a shift, a moment where Johnny's attitude changes from cocky confidence to earned authority, him taking encouragement from the way you fall apart under his touch and writhe in the lap of your husband who isn't currently the cause of your pleasure. It has Johnny soaring, and you can tell he's falling into the new headspace with ease.
"He's a quick study, John." You whisper.
"Clothes off, yeah, lass?" Johnny tugs you to your feet, holding you steady in his arms for a moment before he eagerly strips you off your clothes.
Your dress comes off first, revealing your tits hanging out of the cups of your bra, and the way your panties settle on your hips, digging into your skin. Johnny's hands move to roam over each piece of your exposed body, kneading and admiring, his eyes ablaze like the hottest part of a flame.
Then he works to rip off your underwear, leaving you bare before both men. "Fuckin' hell don't know how you tear yerself away from her."
"Feels impossible some days." John purrs as he stands from his chair, paws falling to your waist once more.
Both men grope at you—Soap pulling you in for another kiss, John nibbling at your neck. Your legs almost give out from beneath you, and you know you'd be so unsteady were it not for being pinned between the two men's bodies.
It's overwhelming. John on his own is enough to bring you to your knees, but him and Johnny, with his blessing? Each touch, each kiss has you whining—high-pitched and almost brainless as your mind fizzles with pleasure.
Johnny holds you close, pressing his solid body against yours—rough fabric and a hard cock against soft skin. He watches your expression as his fingers dip back into your soaked folds, as your husband's fingers roam over your ass and into your hole. The two men work in tandem to reduce you to a quivering mess, vicious fingers making you drip down their hands and your own thighs.
Johnny flicks your clit absentmindedly as his other hand moves to work on freeing himself from his jeans, pushing his boxers aside to reveal a long, slender, leaking cock.
"Wow, bonnie girl. Yer that excited for me? Or dae ye just really like yer husband sharing ye?" He purrs as he strokes his length languidly, teasing you with the sight of his pre-cum leaking down the head, as well as the way he squeezes his member.
You laugh breathlessly, unable to summon a real response until the men's fingers still inside you. "We'll see... how you fuck first, sergeant. Don't let me down."
Both men share a chuckle, but Johnny is the first to act, with strong hands wrapping around your thighs and hoisting you into the air.
Johnny gives you a devilish smirk as he hovers you inches away from his cock. "I never back down from a challenge, lass."
He eases into you slowly, lowering you down and stretching you on his length, each delicious inch pushing its way inside in an almost torturous way. He’s not as thick as your husband, but he might just be longer, as he finally seats himself inside and the tip of his cock bullies your cervix.
"Fuck, fuck." The sigh that releases from you is beyond shaky, betraying the deep effect Johnny’s cock has on you. "So deep."
"He feel good, love?" John asks, stepping up behind you, his voice close to your ear and his hands guiding you up and down the other man’s cock.
"Y-yeah."
He clicks his tongue in approval, speaking again with honeyed words that make you keen. "Good girl, keep taking him for me."
John mostly watches, his hands remaining on you, yet passive, as Johnny starts to move. The younger man thrusts with fervour, bouncing you onto his dick over and over and over again, not satisfied until he has you crying out for more and babbling.
Johnny certainly knows how to move his hips, knows how to fuck—he eases off the second you show any discomfort, and is quick to learn the exact pace and motion that makes you moan the loudest. If you could think straight, you’d wonder if John had already given him strict instructions on exactly how to fuck you. Of course, he’d have planned this to a T.
Your nails scrape up Johnny’s muscled back, clinging to him desperately as he continues to shove his cock into your wet hole, as John’s hand snakes around your waist to toy with your clit. Both men are clearly intent on ruining you. Your insides twist, your head falling back into your husband's chest as you just feel.
Johnny’s hips abruptly stop, buried deep inside you in a way that blanks out all your thoughts. "Need your help, captain." He grumbles over your shoulder.
"What with?"
"Think she needs her husband's cock inside her too. Stuff tha' pretty cunt completely full, yeah, bonnie?" Johnny raises a brow at his captain, waiting for the man to make a move.
Each second drags as your husband considers the situation and you're left needy and waiting, Johnny's hips entirely still—John's hands on you inactive too.
The idea of being stretched by both of them at the same time sends you wild, two gorgeous cocks stuffing your hole full.
"Please, John." You start to babble, unable to control your own pleas. "Need you both, need you both, need—"
John's cock slides between your ass, nudging forward until he knocks against where Johnny is buried inside you. The sensation on its own has both you and Johnny bucking.
"That kind of thinking'll take you far, sergeant," John whispers before his fingers crawl down your skin to where you and Johnny are connected, and he starts to guide the head of his cock into your hole. "Shhh, nice and slow, gotta stretch you out for both of us, love."
“Gonna be a tight squeeze, bonnie.” Johnny mutters, his voice showing signs of further strain as his captain’s cock rubs against him.
The stretch is painful, John’s girthy cock bullying its way inside and forcing you to accommodate him alongside the sergeant—you know you won’t be sitting right anytime soon, and you couldn’t be happier.
Your hole burns with each inch your husband slides in, pleasure only beginning to come when his head brushes against your g-spot—after that, he slips right in, your cunt reshaping itself in acceptance and swallowing his cock.
"Fuck.” You pant, barely able to catch your breath, and no one has even moved yet. You can’t think straight, can’t breathe right, can’t even really contemplate the way your body is being overwhelmed by the two men. All you can do is whine and moan and cry out. "It's too much!"
John holds your hips steady as he presses kisses to your shoulder, and Johnny runs a hand through your hair—both men cooing reassurances at you.
"Ye can take it, fer me and the captain. I know ya can."
“You can do the work, sergeant, make her feel good, yeah?”
Johnny nods once before springing into action, his cock gliding out of your pussy before forcing its way back in, squelching against John’s length as it goes and drawing groans from both men.
It doesn’t take long Johnny's pace to escalate, as he shoves in repeatedly and thrusts both his own and John’s cock deeper inside you. You feel your brain slip into a haze of pleasure, all thoughts becoming incoherent as moan after moan makes its way from your throat.
"There we go, love. Stuffed full of two cocks, how'd you like it?" Your husband asks before turning your head to face him, and then devouring your lips in a passionate, loving kiss.
"Love it, love it so much." You whisper against him. "Fuck me, John, Johnny, please."
The two men thrust together momentarily, forcing you to the limit of what you can take from both of them—smirks dance across their faces, both beyond pleased to have you pinned between them.
"Cannae wait until we're both filling ye with our cum." Johnny purrs as he buries himself deep.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you, gorgeous girl?"
#soap mactavish x reader#john price x reader#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader x john mactavish#soap x reader#soap mactavish#price x reader#call of duty x reader#call of duty fanfiction#captain john price#john price#bunny writes#god i want them both SO bad
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do you think there is tension between the pack and her after her heat stops? I can only imagine she's extremely flustered
Oh Absolutely-
Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons
(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)
(Part Five: Interest)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Omega discrimination, Slow burn
Masterlist
You wake on the final day of your heat alone
You fell asleep on Gaz's chest, panting into his neck with fever, and it was only once he scruffed you, kneaded your gland with his thumb and whispered husky little affirmations in your ear that you finally calmed
It doesn't take you long to figure out that you're finally (mostly) back to normal. You're no longer feverish, your head feels clear, and though your body is exhausted, your joints no longer hurt, your head doesn't throb
By some mercy, you aren't devastatingly horny anymore either
Your bed is littered with clothes that aren't yours, and you can tell by the scent alone who they belong to. Your body remembers the press of Ghost and Price inside you, hovering over you in the desert heat as they tried to calm the horrific sickness inside you, flush your system free of toxins
You've never held it against them. They saved your life, even if it was through means out of your control. Yet now your legs clench at the memory, the distant wish that somehow they might do it again.
It's awkward as hell, and by the next day when you're back to duties you do your best to avoid all of them, head ducked and skittering out of sight in a mixture of shame and bashfulness at the desire carving it's way inside you
It's wrong. Their your commanding officers. Your superiors. What they did was simply a favor, making sure you weren't horrifically sick and or dying. Nothing more than that
When Soap calls for you in the mess hall, when Gaz tries to sidle up to you at the firing range, when Ghost postures behind you after drills to ward off other alphas, when Price pulls you aside- you find ways to slink out of sight, face too warm and eyes turned down
You know they notice, you know they're confused, maybe even hurt, but you try to tell yourself it's for the best. You just need to tough it out for a few more weeks before you're back on suppressants again
You can't avoid them forever though, and eventually you're summoned on another mission with them
Price catches you by the arm before you load up, eyes you and forces you to meet his gaze before inquiring softly about you, and you tremble under his scrutiny, insist "I'm fine, captain."
You can see in the tight draw of his lips he doesn't believe you, and you can't blame him. Yet he releases you, strides past you onto the plane
You're in Al-Mazrah, hunting down an ex-pat who defected to AQ, one who holds valuable intel that you can't allow to fall into the wrong hands
It's a simple mission. Capture, do not kill. A hunting expedition
One that turns wrong too quickly
You're clearing a building when you see a shadow out of the corner of your eye. It moves too fast to trace, and before you can aim at it a arm wraps around your chest, a hand moving to your face too late to silence your scream
Your attacker hisses in a language you don't understand, but between the words you can make out a single one that is all too familiar
"Omega."
You freeze, feel dread wash icy through your veins before thrashing violently, trying to reach for the blade tucked in your tac vest
You don't get the chance, because the rush of your heart beat is deafened by a feral, roaring growl that echoes deep in the chest of a familiar form
Ghost.
The alpha rips the man from you, all but throws him against a wall so hard you hear something crack- unsure if it's bone or plaster
You tremble where you stand, shaken, forcing yourself to reach for your blade, when a hand settles gently on yours
"Stay."
The word is growled in a low, gruff order, one that reeks of alpha authority, and you look up to see Price's teeth bared in a sneer, watching as the alpha before he towers over the crumpled form of your attacker
Something inside you withers away gently, and in your shaken state you press into Price's side instinctively, watching your other alpha raise his weapon and fire once into the man's skull
Price's arm wraps around you reflexively, tucking you further into his side protectively
It shouldn't shake you, this. You've had far worse encounters than this one, but the echo of the man's voice in your ears, purring a low, threatening growl resounds endlessly in your thoughts. "Omega."
He was going to hurt you
He never got the chance
Ghost strides over to you, long steps quickly closing the distance, and in any other context you'd retreat from him, his towering posture indicative of a threat
Now, however, you lean up into his hands as they cup the sides of your face, turn it back and forth to look for wounds. One finger grazes across your scent gland with intoxicating, familiar smell, and your knees wobble
"Solid?" Price asks you, and you force yourself to nod in reassurance
"S-solid." You answer despite the waver of your voice, and though both of them nod, they seem reluctant to release their hold on you
There's a distant part of your brain that slinks velvety across your thoughts, and you're unable for a moment to ignore the overwhelming instinct of warmth, safety, protection, shelter, Alpha-
"Easy, omega." Price soothes, and it snaps you back to yourself, realizing your want has somehow bled into your scent. You look to the captain, aghast, but there's only a fond amusement there that makes your heart flutter deep beneath your stomach
The rest of the mission goes smoothly, and you notice Price and Ghost sticking closer to you than usual. It's only once you get back to base, wash their scents from you that you realize
You're already theirs
#poly 141 x reader#modern warfare 2#cod mw2#omegaverse tf 141#omegaverse cod#omegaverse dynamics#omegaverse#drabbles#headcanons
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Chest of Drawers owned by Captain W.P. Marcham Royal Navy - H.M.S. Lion 1839-42 - repaint in the early 20th century
#naval artifacts#chest of drawers#captain w.p. marchan#royal navy#officers belongings#early 19th century#repaint early 20th century#age of sail#age of steam
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super short price nsfw because i am his girlie til the day i die. he’s a bit of a meanie in this one tho so read with caution!!
“Again,” he orders.
You take a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to somewhat ground yourself, but it’s a difficult feat when you're being held down on your surperior’s hard lap by his big arm splayed over your hips. A thick, dusty book on the desk in front of you, flipped to the page that entirely covers the military-workplace regulations he was scolding you for until tears began to bead at your waterline. You don’t think you’ve ever been this humiliated.
Your vision is blurry, and it’s at that point where your memory serves you better than what you’ve been ordered to do, which is to read until you can’t. He’s broken you down to a writhing mess atop his thigh as both of yours can only drape over one of his huge ones. Back flush against his chest with his palm rubbing your pussy in all the right ways; you swallow thickly, wondering if you can even go on any longer in this state.
“Fifty-nine, oh-one: ‘Service personnel are to wear-” you pause to breathe, fighting back a stutter, “…appropriate regulation uniform on duty—”
A bashful whimper cuts you off mid-recitement as he somehow manages to shove his two fingers even deeper into your cunt, nudging against your nerves rather harshly. Your legs squeeze around his thigh and your hands twitch in their place wrapped around to your sides. All the willpower in your body being used to keep yourself from bucking your hips forward and earning another half-hour of degrading names and treatment.
“Did you hear me tellin’ you to stop?” he barks, but it’s in that calmer manner that spins your mind around until you can’t decipher the difference between anger and sympathy. You shake your head, and you don’t need to have a visual on his face to feel the disapproval teetering off his bitten tongue and firm expression. “Then why don’t I hear you reading, eh?”
Your voice trembles, almost enough for him to take pity on you; “Sir, please- I’m trying.”
You weren’t even on duty today, for fuck’s sake. You had stopped by to pick up a personal belonging, only to be reminded how your captain views you as his own the second you step foot through the base’s front gate. And you were never good at avoiding his stalking gaze, especially when he’s got access to eyes stationed at every nook and corner.
“Christ, y’need me to spell it out for you? Is that it?” he scoffs. “How many times’ve we been over this?”
The way he berates and babies you has your cheeks stained and glistening with tears, and your mind all jumbled considering how easily he switches back and forth from mean to soft. Soft like how his fingers pull out and away from your cunt and hold themselves just far enough to make you shift your hips forward in search of them, only to be held back by his arm’s weight. Mean like his spat words and the grip with which he grabs your jaw, squeezing tight and puffing your cheeks out a bit in an attempt to get you to focus; to knock some sense into that strained, precious little brain of yours.
“Pretty fuckin’ simple task for a soldier, if y’ask me.”
Because deep down, he truly cares about your well-being. He only wants the best for his girl, and the dynamic between you.
And you wouldn’t want to disappoint your superior even more than you already have, now, would you?
He lets go of your face to allow you to finish, a nervous and newfound quietness croaking in your throat in addition to your already shy voice after his display of aggression; “—except when otherwise ordered by a Commanding Officer…’”
“Good girl,” he drags upon your completion, along with his hand that sneaks back into your panties. You jump from the coldness of his skin but he barely pays any mind to it. “Keep going for me, now, pretty. Go ‘head and skip some.”
It’s a repeated process; you recite what you know, mess up due to his cruel ways of sadistic teasing, and watch on from the outside as your self-respect crumbles so easily. You acknowledge it, you feel it, and you willingly ignore it because you know that whatever he plans on giving you afterwards will far surpass any other means to pleasure.
His time, his teachings and guidance, his own pleasure. They’re better than gifts, really.
“‘No item of uniform which has not been authorized is to be worn.’” You mumble for the entirety of the final sentence, now expecting him to get on you for not speaking clearly enough.
Instead, his middle finger delves between your folds and dips into your cunt at last, ripping a hiss and another whine from high in your throat from his rough treatment.
“And who authorizes your uniform?” he finally asks.
He adds his ring finger and the fullness in your cunt would be uncomfortable if the heel of his palm wasn’t digging into your clit at the particular angle. It numbs the stretch and your worries, so much so you nearly forget what he had asked you.
You gasp, eyes shooting open to meet cold, empty office in stark contrast to the warm, staggering frame pressed up against your back. Every muscle and every flex beneath the cotton material of his shirt being embedded into your mind.
“You do, Sir—mph!—it’s only you.”
An approving rumble from his chest vibrates against your back, and you lean into him with a soft moan when he curls his fingers upward in that way he knows you respond to the best. Head leant back on his shoulder, you hold onto his arm to stabilize your spinning mind once he begins slipping his rough fingers in and out of your sensitive pussy more firmly.
“So you show up to base in this pretty, little dress on your off-day, and expect to leave here without any punishment?”
His words exceed intimidating to a great extent, but the way he coos them so gently right by your ear leads directly to you scrambling them into nothing more than sweet blurbs and mumbles. He continues his short scolding as if he doesn’t know how dumb he’s got you already, ready to make you bite the consequences for your inability to respond to him later.
“Distractin’ me ‘nd all the other men here while we work, like you don’t know what your body does to them. What you’re worth around here, to the lot of bastards falling asleep with their dicks in their hands to the pretty image of you dressed like this,” he emphasizes with the tug of your dress’s ending hem.
“Sir,” you whine, not paying a single nod to his language because your numbed mind can simply no longer compute it. Muffled and unclear, though the mean and deep drawl that bleeds through pushes you all the much closer to bliss.
“Feels good, I—please… ’m so, so close, Sir—!”
You whine and clasp your hand down on his arm for some sort of spiritual stabilization, and he only picks up the pace. He works you up so quickly after edging you for what felt like hours, as this time he gives absolutely no notion to relenting.
“That right?” Of course, you can’t respond with much more than a whimper as you rock your hips back and forth on his hard thigh, his skilled fingers working you up to ecstasy.
“Yes, yes ‘m gonna—it’s too much, Sir, ‘m gonna come—!”
He chuckles, his arm around your waist pulling you impossibly closer into him. You convulse around his fingers and moan through your high as he militantly, yet somehow so expertly, turns your vision to stars and your limbs into a limp mess atop him. It’s like he knows your body better than you do yourself, making you come harder with his fingers alone than anyone has ever. You thank him profusely, soft words of mantra like music to his ears as he decides what to do with you next.
He gives you no time to recover before he’s wrapping both his hefty arms around you and hauling you up in front of him, big palm instantly meeting with your shoulder blade to shove you down on the wooden desk and ripping a gasp from high in your lungs. He leans over you, caging you in as he soothes his hand across your forehead; his version of intimacy, and whatnot.
You’re panting, utterly exasperated, but simply can’t help the way you wiggle your hips back against his to chase that good friction. He laughs at your display of neediness for his cock, knowing it’ll be a much longer while before he’ll let you have it.
“My stupid fuckin’ toy,” he mutters softly against your skin, and it sounds just as good as any flattering compliment would.
He takes the hem of your dress and hikes it up to reveal your ass, humming at the sight before leaning back in to kiss your temple. Facial hair tickling and invading your senses, nearly feeling like a sweet treat to shush the way you whine out with his hard bulge pressed up against where you’re most sensitive.
Thoughts of what he could do to you right now running rampant through both of your minds, none differing from each other nor unwanted from either party.
“You’re gonna let me use this body however I like, until you learn to behave yourself ‘round your coworkers. Till you learn a fuckin’ lesson for once. Sound quite alright, sweetheart?”
#cod mw2#john price#captain john price#captain price#john price x reader#john price x female reader#john price smut
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Price would put his cigar out on your ass while balls deep :(
of course, he would. he has to mark you up and leave scars along your pretty body so everybody on base sees and understands that you belong to him... 🚬
it's his signature, pretty much. the captain with a very obvious and noticeable smoking addiction. he's the type to brush it off, excusing himself and saying it soothes his anxiety and the pain of lost soldiers, and that he could quit if he really wanted to. it's a complete lie; everyone knows it.
so when captain price has the new recruit bent over his office table, he feels that it's right for him to mark you up, to put his cigar out on your tight rear while he's stuffing your sticky asshole with his meaty girth. you sucked in a sharp breath, holding back tears at the burning, nipping feeling of his cigar against your cheek. you don't want to seem weak and pathetic, especially in front of your captain. you're a soldier for crying out loud! you have to appeal to him and meet his standards.
his rough and scarred hand grasps at your hip tightly, his blunt fingernails leaving indents as he digs his fingertips into your flesh. he slowly drags himself out of your pulsating, gummy hole before sinking back inside, his head thrown back, the cigar causing the room to stink of smoke, tobacco, sweat, and sex. your hole burns with his pace quickening, your thighs trembling as you fight tears, forcing them to sink back into your eyes and not spill down your cheeks.
captain price will tell you to keep quiet, to prove yourself as brave, strong, and worthy of the military, as he quickens his pace, the sounds of his skin clashing against yours filling the gaps between your cries for more.
#orla speaks#price cod#captain price#price call of duty#captain john price#captain price x reader#captain price cod#mw2 price#john price mw2#price mw3#price x reader#price x you#price x y/n#john price x reader#price mw2#price modern warfare
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Part 6 of SpecGru (former 141) reader; Simon’s perspective again.
Content: brief implication/mention of reader having idle suicidal ideation. In the way of “I don’t care if something happens to me” kind of way. Happens during a phone call between Price and reader’s new captain.
Please be careful and safe. If someone needs this part summarized, let me know. I love you all very much <3
Here’s the truth of it: Simon never meant for you to leave.
You were too close, that was true. He did everything short of actually hurting you to drive you away. Treated you like a plaything, took your kindness and patience and feelings for him for granted. Left you cold and alone in a hospital bed — unable to see you pale and half-dead all because you were so goddamn headstrong…
That had put it all in vicious perspective. That he couldn’t keep you safe; knowing him, following him, would surely end with you on a metal table rather than a clean hospital bed.
In hindsight, he knows it was as much for his own sake as yours, trying to force that emotional distance between you two. But he just… he can’t do it. Not again. Not you. You’d break him.
But he never meant for you to leave. Not really.
Maybe take an extended solo mission. Or just break off the romance of it all. Maybe you’d stay away for a while, give him time to sort out his feelings and shove the useless ones back into the pit they belong in.
He didn’t expect you to be gone as soon as you could stand.
“You said yourself, Simon, she’s too young and reckless. The 141 can’t afford to babysit her,” Price explained.
“She nearly got you killed, LT,” Soap pointed out. That was before he found out that you were gone for good, not just on disciplinary leave.
And when he did…
“No. No, she dinnae…” he wiped a hand down his face, eyes going a bit glassy. “Why? Why would she… didn’t we mean anythin’ to her? I know we were all a bit on the rocks but ‘s just cos she gave us a scare…”
Gaz took it the hardest, showing up most morning with red-rimmed, puffy eyes. He tried texting you a hundred times; they never went through.
He and Soap begged Price to reconsider, saying that he had no right to kick you out without consulting the rest of the squad.
“I just told her that she should consider transfer,” Price corrected, steely.
“Same fuckin’ thing, ain’t it?” Soap raged. “What else ‘s she gonna do when it’s her captain sayin’ it?”
And Price had finally crumbled, his stubbornness giving way to a clearer head and regret in the aftermath. Simon knew how he felt; had been haunted with the same gut-wrenching feeling for two weeks by that point.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have…” he wiped a hand down his face. “I’ll call Laswell, see if she can put us through.”
As it turned out, your new team had deployed you almost immediately. You were gone, relying on teammates you barely knew, and there was no guarantee when (or even if) you’d be reachable again.
When Laswell put Price through to your new captain instead, he scoffed down the line.
“That how the great John Price sends off his own?” He gruffed.
“I take care of my own,” Price replied, narrow-eyed.
“That’s explains it then, doesn’t it?” A shifting on the other end. “Well, she’s one of mine now, at least; better off that way I think.”
He was on speaker phone with the SpecGru captain. Shouldn’t have been, but it wasn’t a confidential call. So the rest of the 141 was there, vibrating with the effort to stay quiet.
Simon balled his hands into fists, arms crossed. He didn’t trust anyone with one of theirs. No, you belonged right there with the rest of the 141. They could keep you safe, keep you alive.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Price growled.
“Let me just ask you this, Price. And only because I need to know how to take care of her.” A pause, shuffling of papers. Something heavy and almost… hesitant in the silence before- “Did she always have this DNR order?”
Price’s office turned to ice. Simon’s entire shuddered, cored out. The arm of the chair Soap was occupying cracked. Gaz’s hand was covering his mouth, blood draining from his face.
“No,” Price answered, voice little more than rust.
A grunt on the other end.
“Thanks for the insight,” your new captain replied, sounding nonplussed. “At least you were good for something.”
The line droned, dead.
—
You’re standing with the rest of SpecGru, beaming like each and every one of them hung a star just for you. They orbit like you’re the sun, even Nikto, holding you in his arms, letting you lean back against him.
(You used to look at Simon like that. Used to let him hug you like that on the occasion he was weak and gave into the temptation to hold you.)
Every time he looks at you, it’s like a stranger with your face all over again.
You hold your shoulders differently. Tilt your head different. Have a certain control over your facial features better than any mask Simon’s donned.
Today you’re dressed down from your tac uniform. Specifically, your long-sleeve thermal has been replaced by a sleeveless gym shirt. It reveals that tattoo he caught only a glimpse of before — a big, intricate thing from your shoulder down your wrist.
(He and Johnny were going to go with you for your first tattoo. You asked them for all sort of recommendations. Enjoyed tracing Simon’s sleeve when he let you.)
There are more scars too. Burns, bullet grazes, jagged knife marks and patches from bad scrapes.
Nova is finishing up the wrapping on your hand, the other already done. You’re listening to something Russ is spouting off about, whatever it is making you laugh loud enough to be heard where Simon is lurking.
“C’mon,” Johnny says, bumping shoulders with Simon. “Know we fucked up yesterday, but we can try again. Maybe letting her beat the shite out of us will help clear the air, aye?”
Simon forces himself to look away. He already knows you won’t be glancing over.
“Yeah,” he replies. “Maybe.”
#thoughts™️#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#sad fic#angst#former 141 reader#specgru reader#simon ghost riley
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Tim Testing
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader
Summary: After transferring to the Mid-Wilshire division because of toxic male officers harassing you, you find yourself partnered with Tim Bradford. When you are injured during a Tim Test, you hide the injury so he doesn't think less of you.
Warnings: angst to fluff, misogynistic comments and actions toward reader (from police officers), reader is injured and passes out, Tim is a softie
Word Count: 2.5k+ words
A/N: This was such an amazing request!! Tim (and everyone at Mid-Wilshire) would be so welcoming after dealing with something like this, so I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to let me know what you think!🤍
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
Picture from Pinterest
You knew from the beginning that it would be different for you, that being a female cop would have its pros, cons, and tough moments. What you didn’t expect was the men who were supposed to be your equals harassing you and making each moment far worse than it should have been.
Between the crass comments about how your uniform fit, questioning whether it was your time of the month whenever you tried to stand up for yourself, and their inability to trust you in the field, you learn your place quickly.
“I’d like to request a transfer to a different station,” you tell your commanding officer.
“Why?” he asks.
“Because there is no respect, no trust in this station. Looking over my shoulder while I’m trying to work, and having to defend myself against the very people who are supposed to have my back is exhausting and it makes me unable to do my job.”
He sighs, rolling his eyes as he slides a form to you. “Your decision. Though showing how weak you are by moving around every time things get hard, or your feelings get hurt isn’t plausible.”
“And you had to ask why,” you mutter, snatching the paper off his desk and walking out to fill it out in private.
“Hey, princess, before we leave on patrol I need to know you don’t have your gun at the front of your belt,” someone calls. “Don’t want to risk getting killed by your poor aim.”
You remain silent, which makes them quit or spurs them on to push you further. As if your day isn’t going poorly already, they take your silence as a weakness.
“Just her gun? You should be more worried about how her attitude changes if her bra rides up or her hormones spike,” a second voice adds.
“You’re on your own today,” you reply. “I’m on desk duty.”
“Finally, someone put you where you belong.”
The men laugh as they walk toward their shops, and you take a deep breath as the quiet settles over the station. Once your paperwork is complete, you take it to the captain. You can only hope it goes through quickly before you get fed up and quit forever.
✯✯✯✯✯
Your commanding officer yells your name as you walk in, intercepting you on your way to the locker room.
“Your transfer just came through, you’re expected at the Mid-Wilshire division for roll call first thing in the morning; today’s PTO while we complete the paperwork,” he informs.
You accept the paper he hands you and pretend not to hear as he adds, “I hope they know what they’re getting into and have the patience to deal with you.”
Smiling as you empty your locker, you hope things are looking up. Although, you know it will be hard to open up to new people and trust new cops, even if they are different than your previous team.
✯✯✯✯✯
Entering the Mid-Wilshire station, you cross your fingers that transferring was the right decision. Sergeant Wade Grey is your new commanding officer, and your day (and your future) relies on this meeting going well.
“Sergeant Grey?” you ask, knocking on his open door.
He looks up, smiling as he beckons you inside. Saying your name, he opens a folder and compliments your arrest record. “I was surprised to hear you asked for a transfer, it seemed like you were doing well at your previous station.”
“The environment was making it difficult to do as well as I know I can, sir,” you answer.
Grey nods. “I can understand that. Our people are good, though, so I expect you will fit in well and succeed in all you do here.”
“I appreciate that, sir.”
“And you can drop the ‘sir,’ we’re not as formal as some other stations.”
Blinking in surprise, you look away from Wade when another cop enters the small office.
“Sergeant Bradford, I’d like to introduce you to your new partner. I will warn both of you this is likely a temporary partnership, but one I trust will do you both some good.”
You smile at Bradford, who tilts his head to the side as he looks you over. It’s clear that he isn’t thrilled about having a partner, having grown used to working alone since becoming a sergeant. As long as he doesn’t treat you like a boot, or worse, like a girl who doesn’t have what it takes to be a cop, you can survive working with him for a few weeks.
What you don’t see, though, is that Tim can look at you and tell you’re a good cop. He reviewed your paperwork and arrest record with Wade yesterday, and he’s impressed by you. You’re good, but you have the potential to be better with the right help. And, for some reason, Wade is convinced that Tim can give you the push you need to be your best.
“Okay, let’s go,” Tim says, turning away as Wade tells you to have a good day.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim acknowledges that you’re not a rookie but warns you from the beginning that you still have something to prove.
“I know you’ve been a cop for a while, but I haven’t seen you in action. Your records are admirable, but I need to see proof that you’re still that good,” he explains. “So, I will test you and challenge you while we’re riding together, but don’t view it as starting over, more like proving grounds than qualifications.”
You nod, remembering something Wade muttered about “Tim Tests,” which you’re sure are unique to Bradford.
“I understand. I’ll do my best, and I want to learn to be better.”
Tim doesn’t reply, and you raise your guard, unimpressed with how shut off he is with you. In general, your past has made you wary around men; after Tim’s insistence that you have something to prove, you are determined to hide everything that could be taken as a sign of weakness. You will do whatever it takes to show you are a good cop, worthy of respect.
Slamming on the brakes, Tim yells, “We’re being ambushed; what do you do?”
“Radio for backup, stay in the shop, stay low, and fire only if necessary,” you answer, nearly robotically, as he catches you off guard.
Tim eases back onto the road, ignoring you once again.
✯✯✯✯✯
Just before your scheduled lunch break, something which you haven’t actually enjoyed in far too long, Tim parks between two old warehouses.
“There’s a suspicious package in the gray building, you’re riding alone and need to check it out,” he explains. “Radio any information as you find it.”
You switch your radio to a private channel with Tim, accepting the call as you exit the shop and enter the building. It’s dark and wet, but you refuse to accept any comments or disdainful looks from Tim if you fail this test, so you will find the package and impress him as quickly as possible.
“7-Adam-9, located suspicious package: brown paper bag situated between steel beams,” you radio.
“Dispatch, requesting additional information,” Tim replies.
You sigh, moving forward to look at the bag because you can’t touch it. When you move, the beams sitting upright in the warehouse shift. Stepping back a second too late, one side of the heavy structure hits the back of your shoulder, shoving you forward into the crate holding the package.
Pain radiates through your shoulder as you move to the side, pulling yourself away from the mess you made with a sharp inhale.
“7-Adam-9, false alarm. Suspicious package is empty. Code 4.”
“Copy 7-Adam-9.”
Taking a step toward the door, you hiss in pain as the pain moves from your shoulder around to your ribs, where you fell against the crate. It seems likely that you broke something or at least got a deep bruise, but telling Tim would be like admitting that you’re weak. So, as you level your expression and cover your pain by walking normally, you decide to hide your pain.
Being labeled weak or incapable, or as before, giving Tim a reason to view you as less than is not an option anymore. Buckling your seatbelt, you press your lips together to keep your pained sounds muted, and the feeling of the seat on your shoulder makes you count down the minutes until you can get out of the shop.
✯✯✯✯✯
As the day goes on, your pain grows in intensity. Each breath causes immeasurable pain, and your stomach turns when you move your shoulder in any direction.
“Wade’s going to ask me, so how’s your first day going?” Tim asks, turning down a residential street to respond to a noise disturbance.
“Fine,” you answer quickly, clenching your jaw to stay quiet.
“Good,” he replies, though his voice sounds different. “Glad you found a station that works for you.”
You can’t tell if his comment is passive-aggressive, implying that you are the issue rather than the station you transferred from. The overbearing pain you’re feeling makes it nearly impossible to care.
“You take point on this one,” Tim offers as he parks by the curb.
“Yes, sir.”
Asking questions and explaining the city’s noise ordinances to the tenant, you’re momentarily distracted from your pain. The moment you turn to return to the shop, though, you’re reminded that your new position isn’t quite as enjoyable as you were expecting.
“Take us back to the station,” Tim says, tossing the shop keys to you.
When you raise your hand to catch the keys, your shoulder screams in protest, and you close your eyes momentarily to hide the pain.
“You alright?” Tim asks.
Nodding, you release a sigh when Tim climbs into the passenger seat, too easily convinced by your answer.
✯✯✯✯✯
After a quick meeting with Wade, discussing your new role, and signing a few documents, you head for the locker room. When you pull your shirt off, you glance in the mirror, surprised to see the size and color of the bruise; your entire shoulder, over to your neck and down around the front of your ribs, is a sickening purple. The yellowish tint around the edges is a sign that it will only worsen before it begins to heal. Attempting to raise your arm again, you feel something shift under your skin and step into one of the bathroom stalls, kneeling as you try to keep yourself from being sick. When you lean your head against the metal wall, the coolness is soothing, and as you finally let yourself acknowledge the pain, it becomes all you can feel.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim opens Wade’s door, furrowing his brows when he sees you’re not there.
“She left a few minutes ago,” Wade answers.
“Her car’s still here.”
“Must be in the locker room then.”
“Why’d she transfer?” Tim asks, stepping inside to close the door.
“I don’t know, Bradford. You’re going to have to ask her.”
Tim nods, turning away to search for you. He knocks on the locker room door, and when no one answers, he opens it and says your name. Once again met with silence, he steps inside and looks around. Your locker is open, but you’re nowhere to be seen. As he rounds the last row of lockers, he sees someone sitting on the floor in one of the bathroom stalls.
Tim says your name, knocking on the door. It opens at his touch, and he catches it before it hits your arm. Kneeling beside you, he looks across your face, pressing his hand behind your neck as he tries to find the source of your unconsciousness. His hand dips to your upper shoulder, and you groan, opening your eyes.
Tim ignores you as you wake, gently leaning you forward as he surveys the bruise where it’s visible past your tank top.
“Stay awake,” he says, moving you again. “Just your shoulder?”
You nod, and he demands to know: “Home or hospital?”
“Home,” you whisper. “But I can-“
“Obviously you can’t,” Tim snaps, his arms gentler than his voice as he lifts you from the ground.
✯✯✯✯✯
You stay conscious, fighting against the pain as you give Tim directions to your home. After getting you inside and as comfortable as possible, he leaves your side to gather a few things before returning. He gives you a glass of water and a few pain reliever pills, waiting until you’ve taken them to lay an ice pack across your shoulder. You take a deep breath at the cold before catching yourself.
“What else hurts?” Tim asks.
“My ribs,” you admit.
He leans you back gently, pushing your tank top to your sternum as he surveys the darkening bruise across your lower ribcage. Gently moving his hand across your skin, he doesn’t feel anything obviously broken, apologizing as you whimper at the pressure. Pulling the first aid kit he brought from your kitchen to his side, he places several cooling packets over your ribs.
Satisfied that he’s done all he can do for you, Tim moves to sit across from you, making himself comfortable in your living room.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“I’m not leaving,” he answers quickly, “what if you collapse again?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Tim silences, closing his eyes as he leans back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
You’ve heard that question dozens of times, but previously, it was asked in a much different tone. Always an accusation that you hadn’t handled something correctly or that you should have let someone else do whatever it was that needed to be done.
When you look back at Tim, his eyes are on you, and you shrug. His eyes narrow as his gaze intensifies, demanding your answer.
“The last station that I worked at made me nervous to tell people things, especially other cops. All of the guys that I worked with harassed me constantly, and they tried to convince me that I wasn’t a good cop because I was a woman. So, I have trouble trusting other police officers with personal things. During your Tim Tests, I thought that if I acknowledged something had happened, you’d see me the same way.”
“Which way?”
“Weak, incapable,” you answer, trailing off.
“They were bad people,” Tim explains. “They may have been okay cops, but no one deserves to be treated like that.”
You nod, licking your lips as your gaze drops to the blanket across your lap.
“Want to tell me what happened today?” he pries.
“The steel beams around the bag?” Tim nods, so you continue, “They fell. One of them hit my shoulder and knocked me forward.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You couldn’t have known that would happen. Besides, you helped me. My last partner would have found a way to blame be.”
“Like I said, bad people. But you… you’re a good person and a good cop,” Tim continues. “I’ve known that since you walked in, but I needed to know that you knew. Getting hurt or being unable to do something on the first try doesn’t make you less of a person, or a cop. Being a woman doesn’t either. And if they didn’t see that, it’s their loss.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, looking into his eyes.
“And my gain.”
You furrow your brows at Tim, but he leans back and closes his eyes instead of elaborating.
#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford fluff#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford the rookie#tim bradford#requests#fem!reader#the rookie
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pairings: simon riley x f!reader
summary: reader suffers from a chronic illness and ghost finds out.
wc: 1.1k
tw: chronic pain, chronic illness, slight angst i think, comfort. not edited and not proofread. that's it.
a/n: sorry y'all i'm struggling a lot with writer's block lately so i'm writing these silly little things to help me out of it so don't mind me!
By the moment Ghost enters his shared office he's frowning so hard that he fears it might leave a permanent mark on his forehead. The first day wasn't unusual as it was normal for soldiers, technicians and federal agents to come and go. Gaz is humming under his breath and greets him with a slight nod when he spots him but he barely returns the gesture. His desk is full of reports waiting to be filled some labeled 'Urgent' in big red letters.
Sitting down he manages to get done the first stack of papers but his mind was lost elsewhere barely paying attention to the work he never had trouble getting done in no time. Part of him wonders if Kyle will tease him if he asked about her. But better asking him than Johnny. As he leans back in his chair, fidgeting with the pen in his hands. Gaz barely pays attention, too enraptured by whatever he's watching on his own computer.
"Where's the girl?"
The Sergeant startles at the sudden sound of his deep voice. Hard and demanding.
"Sir?" He half chuckles when brown eyes meet each other.
"Have you seen her? She's supposed to report back to me and she hasn't." It was only half a truth. She did have to report to him every progress made for future missions, give him the intel so he can report to the Captain. The thing was, there were no missions taking place soon. No black ops, nothing. But Kyle didn't know that.
Gaz lifts his brows, trying to figure out who his Lieutenant was talking about, until it hits him.
"Oh." He murmurs. "The tech girl, Lt?" He shrugs. "Haven't seen her in a few days, have you tried calling her or you know... going to the women's barracks?"
Ghost scoffs as if the mere idea was ridiculous.
"No. Guess she'll show up."
She has to.
Standing up he exits the office under Gaz's questioning look. The hallways feel endless the more he walks to the tech wing, he knows if he passes down that specific hallway he'd be able to see through the glass that serves as walls if she's there or not.
Much to his already building annoyance she's not there.
-
Rolling onto your back you squeeze your eyes shut once more. An unyielding pain throbbing in the back of your skull shoots yet another wave of nausea making you feel more miserable than ever.
It's been two days since the whole ordeal started. It began with a subtle pain that couldn't recognize the symptoms at first, merely blinking away the black dors that started to blurred your vision one afternoon when you were trying to fill the reports for Ghost, pages and pages of new intel recovered from long lost contacts online.
Saying it was hard to dig in all those dark places was an understatement. You had tried to push the symptoms of uneasiness to the back of your mind, typing and decoding algorithms for what could be days. Days without sleep or proper and much needed rest.
So, when the first wave hit you had ran to the bathroom, throwing up what little you had eaten that day. Oh how you hated it. Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and the terror began, everything went down hill from there.
Shutting the computer off you gathered your belongings. The corridors were in complete silence, abandoned hours ago when everyone went to their dorms.
You remembered picking up some of your things from the women's barracks and retreating to your personal dorm where no one would bother you. As a member of the task force you had a place for you alone —just as the rest of the team— and you're grateful because the next days were a nightmare.
The curtains were tightly closed. Not the tiniest bit of light could pass even if the sun burned brighter. The earplugs helped but they didn't do much to alleviate the external noises. Fuck why were the soldiers so loud? You asked to yourself, jaw tight in an effort to soothe the pulsing on your forehead.
After laying in the same position for another hour you decide to get up, dragging your feet in an enormous attempt to get to the bathroom. With the lights turned off you undress as quickly as you can; standing on your feet is hard enough already but you wait nonetheless for the bath to fill with cool water.
With numb extremities you step in and lower yourself, it's almost soothing and calming the way the water swallows your body and then your head. Ever since these headaches —these migraines— started to interfere, you learned that cool water could help to ease the symptoms. Time passes by and when you emerge your teeth chatter, lips turned purple but it was worth it. God was it worth it.
You're exhausted, this has taken a toll on you. Fitting your pajamas feels like an impossible task. Your head throbs with the slightest of movement. And then the door opens just a tad, reveling the dark shadow of the man you'd recognize anywhere.
"Ghost," you murmur acknowledging his presence, half shocked half embarrassed that he's right here in your bedroom. Your bathroom.
"Why is everything dark?" His voice is too loud and it makes you flinch; he's quick to notice even in the sheer darkness. He notices the whimper in your voice when he speaks too loud. He notices the way your body sags, and when he takes a step close you lean on him. Forehead pressing down on his broad chest. "Hey." He calls you, voice lowering this time. "Let me take you to the bed."
And you almost want to say something it. Make a comment about it being inappropriate but you're too sick to even do it so you let him guide you. You let him lay you down and surprises you when he follows.
Bodies curling against the other. You rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes so hard until the pain soothes. "You never told me about it."
"Never had the chance. Thought you hated me, remember?"
Ghost sighs. He had never intended for you to feel like that around him, he just wasn't accustomed to having such a nice person around him. You were so different from everything he knew.
"Forgive me, love." He mutters. "They're gonna start asking questions."
"What do you mean?" You grab him by the shirt when a sudden wave of nausea hits you. He caresses your hair in a calming manner.
"I asked Garrick about you." Before you can fight it a smile spreads on your face.
"Johnny..." you snort, regretting it the moment the laugh rattles in your brain. The Scot is about to have a field day when he finds out. "Ow..."
"Will never hear the end of it." His thumb presses down on your temple massaging the spot. "Better?"
"Yeah." There's a moment of brief silence where all you can hear is the sound of feet outside your dorm. People carrying on with their lives. "Would you stay with me tonight Lt.?"
"Thought you'd never ask."
#cod#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod x reader#cod mwii#cod mw2#call of duty#simon ghost riley#cod mw22#simon riley x reader#cod ghost#simon ghost x reader#call of duty ghost simon riley#cod simon ghost riley#cod simon riley#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon ghost x you#simon riley x you#ghost modern warfare#ghost riley#ghost call of duty#ghost mw2
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