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#cod mwf2
aethelwyneleigh27 · 2 days
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"your girl?" "My girl.."
Simon "Ghost" Riley x FEM!AFAB!Reader
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Synopsis: Your ex finds himself at your doorstep ready to beg you to take him back after he cheated on you, unfortunate for him, your "best friend" Simon was there on the look out for you..
Reader's body type was described as somewhat plump so yeah she's on the plus size/chubbier side but not specific, don't like that body type? Tf are you doing on my page then? This page is safe space for all body types (everyone for that matter) and I won't take discrimination against me or anyone else.
Hi lovelies! Lia here, is it just me or do drabbles do better than actual full length fics? I still cannot get over my last scenarios post not being recognized because it's been published but on private for more than three weeks, @connorsui lovie, I know you're there. I have both food for you here and on this post. Did I speed run this is 5 hours? Yes. This is coming out before the next scenarios fic 😭
If I told you guys this was inspired by a milkman bot session I had on c.ai, would you believe me? And yes it's the milkman, Francis from the game "that's not my neighbor", HE LOOKS TOO GOOD LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING??
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam
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Is it any different to have a label? You always thought of that question, with your ex and now with Simon. Sure there was a label but he never made you feel as if you are who he calls you but with Simon it's different, it felt more than what you both labeled yourselves to each other.
Yet you've felt everything from guilt to grieve, having doubts wasn't uncommon for such a high risk exchange. Risking your friendship for something more like the eliminated boundaries set for people who are just friends are now set to the standards of those of a couple.
"Friends with benefits" is what it's called, not exactly the kind of commitment you dreamed of but it was mutually beneficial. You agreed not to catch feelings, well.. you were fucked to begin with, why would you agree to have no romantic connection to someone you already had feelings for?
What happens, happens I guess. You don't feel low after a high like you always did, Simon next to you, in your bed, your sheets and just surrounded by all the items that were both of his possession and yours. Too domestic for it's own good, for yourself.
Getting up felt like a crime, you shouldn't have to pull away from the warmth and comfort of his arms right? As much as you wanted to stay, you have to make breakfast, you promised him the night before.
You hauled yourself out of bed and to the kitchen, after picking up his and your clothes from the night before and into the wash cycle anyway. Making yourself your favorite morning drink before getting started on Simon's request.
Little did you know that Simon just woke up, panicking a little when he first gained his consciousness when he saw that you weren't around. His rationality set it, feeling stupid, pathetic and like a lost child for how he overreacted.
Walls were thin, muffled shouting and rapid knocking from outside your door alarmed him. The clicks of the locks as he walked out your room, he found you talking to the bastard who made you cry in the lieutenant's arms more times than he can count on both hands.
Simon couldn't help himself, his blood running cold as he saw where the bastard's eyes were.. that son of a bitch was staring at your chest that was peeking from your silk nightdress while you were berating him for even showing his face to your apartment in the first place.
Your Simon could only do what he's wanted to do for a long time now..
You felt stiff and ridgid arms wrap around your plump waist and hips from behind, you know that musky cologne anywhere. Simon moved the strap of your silk nightdress just a bit off your shoulder to kiss the center, you felt his kisses slowly making it's way to your neck.
Your face felt the hottest it's ever been, it took everything in your body to not shudder or close your eyes at his touch. You let out the softest sigh but your bliss was interrupted by your ex who was currently failing to find the right words.
Simon stops his kisses but keeps his lips right on that spot just at the gap between your neck and shoulder, he stares up to the man he called bastard, prick, twat, fucker and all kinds of other things, gave him a look that may as well tell him that Simon was about to commit murder.
"You..!" The "mangled looking mutt" (Simon's previous description of your ex) said that almost in a threatening tone however he bites his tongue as soon as Simon raises a brow, daring him to continue. Your ex tried to step forward into your apartment but Simon beat him to it, quickly slamming the door to his face.
You bite your urge to laugh as you heard your ex's face actually hit the door with a thud and crack as it was closed on him accompanied by a loud curse, with his angry stomps fading you felt a sense of relief.
That was short lived when those same two arms that kept you warm and grounded spun you around, you stopped yourself from whining because of the sudden distance of your back on his warm bare chest to now facing him. He didn't pull you closer but your eyes begged him to.
"I didn't know we were broadcasting it now, thought you said we looked like friends in the eyes of the world?" You managed to say so boldly despite how much effect his touch has on you.
"M'sorry love, I couldn't help it.. he was— I can't let him continue to upset and borderline harrass my girl then continue to look at you as if you're.."
Everything started to be muffled.. did he just say what you think he said...? Brush it off, just brush it off, it's probably just a mistake or a caught in the moment thing right?
"Your girl?" You said almost in a whisper to test the waters, seeing as he had no problem putting your ex in his place and claiming you.
Simon's eyes widened.
Oh.
Oh..
It dawned on him how much it meant that he actually said those two words, those same two words he's been avoiding like the plague. The same two words that would make him lose all his sense of control and mindfulness of the agreement you two made together.
Your breath hitched, shit what if he says it was a mistake? Would that hurt you? Simon knew it wasn't something unintentional. Going back, he had held it back for so long, in his head you were his and he was yours to do what you pleased with.
Simon did the only thing he could think of.
"My girl" he pulls you in, closer than he has ever had, holding you like today was the last day you two would ever be together. He's wanted to hold you like that forever, he will.
You cupped his face, looking him in the eyes with that look, he knew that look of doubt, essentially asking him if he meant it. It hurt but he knew that it wasn't your intention to and you needed to know if he was serious.
He managed to calm your nerves and give you reassurance with just the way he nods with his warm lips finding your neck again. You felt enough adrenaline to kiss him, like actually kiss him on his lips.
Romantic, soft and sweet yet passionate, Simon couldn't help himself, guiding and backing you up on the kitchen countertop. He took it as an opportunity to hoist you up on it by your waist, squirming a bit as the marble was like ice underneath your thighs, your legs propped open with him comfortably in between.
Of all the things, the grey sweatpants and refusal to even come close to wearing a shirt, it surely didn't help to calm where your mind is running.
He pressed his forehead on yours, closing his eyes and basking in the feeling of this with you, his breath on your skin felt different now...
Part Two: "your girl?" "My girl" (NSFW)
Part two is in @blingblong55's hands now because this is a collab and yes it's nsfw, I'll place the link here at the top when she graces us with her work and presence.
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hecateslore · 2 days
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🐾❤️
Farmer!Price RAAAAAAAHHHHH
You stood outside with your arms crossed waiting for John to cross the street. He does a little jog towards your front yard, Beau running up to him and getting her dirty paws all over his work clothes.
"Beau, down!" You yell. "She's fine," He brushes you off, petting the big girls head. She eventually backs off and runs into the house, passing you making sure to bump your knee.
"You been good?" You ask watching him walk up your porch steps, small grunts leave his lips as he takes each step. "Could be better." He chuckles finally meeting you at the top.
"How're you?" He follows behind you into the older home, You let out a dramatic sigh, "Jackass stopped by, So I've seen better days." You roll your eyes at the mention of your ex-husband. John snorts at your reaction, "And your Dad?" he asks.
"He's in the living room, You can go say hey." You grin, heading into the kitchen to pull the lemon cake from the oven.
John walked into the Living room, Your father laying in the hospital bed facing the window, outlooking the backyard. A sad sight before him. He stands by the bed, looking at the older man who's body's now frail was once a tall cheery figure, A lot like you.
"The nurse stopped by Tuesday, said It's now a matter of waiting." you appear behind him, "That's why he's been so sleepy, and in and out of it ." You finish a sad look in your eyes as you glance over your fathers tired body. You place a hand on Johnny's shoulder, "Why don't you go eat some cake." You give it a light squeeze and walk out of the living room back into the kitchen.
You serve him a nice, thick, slice of the lemon glazed cake, sliding it over towards him. "Thank you," He lifts the fork, digging in.
"So what am I doing with the cinder block?" He says, mouth stuffed with the lemony goodness. "My dad's got this empty shed, and The block is just sitting in this one spot taking up all the grass, So I need them in there." You explain, "Whenever you want to get started let me know."
And when he does, boy do you have a show. His work shirt discarded after the 10th cinder block he moved. You watched him from the kitchen window, His buff arms glistening with sweat.
You grab a glass from the cabinet, filling it up with some water and Ice and walk out to the back yard, "You alright?" You yell, approaching him, "It's humid." He breathes, "Don't know how you do it." He takes the water from your hand, "It's cause you're not from here," You watch him suck down the water intently, his Adam's apple bobbing with each gulp. He hands you back the glass, thanking you. "Looks like you're almost done," You comment, shading your eyes from the sun that was setting.
You felt like a loser, lusting after your neighbor, who clearly has no interest in you. He's just being polite and you were peeking through the kitchen blinds crossing your fingers that he'll take his under shirt off. Insanity, it has to be.
Once he finishes you give him one of the "good plates" filled with slices of cake, you cover it with some tin foil and hand it off. Doping he'll take the hint, bringing back your fine china.
And maybe so he can see you again.
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blingblong55 · 2 days
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Isn't she lovely? -141
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Based on a request: simon riley who is a girls dad and his daughter comes home upset one day and very quiet. it goes on like this for the week but not only does he notice but his friends, the taskforce 141 as they are close with simon's family. they get super worried as she's usually happy and brings light into the room but now she's avoiding eye contact, speaking, and jokes. realize she's being bullied at school and they go to the school to "deal" with the situation and make this whole pink themed tea party to make her feel better. ---- No mentions of reader, dad!ghost, fluff, uncles!141 ----
Task Force 1-4-1 is not just a badass team on the field with all those cruel people but also dads and the best uncles any kid could ask for. It's funny, they always joked about those stupid dates they were set up on or the way one of them was getting married and as the years go by they all retire one by one, finding themselves becoming one big family.
Today, at their monthly family dinner, Simon and his lovely wife find themselves hosting the dinner. Their two youngest kids running around with their cousins and Soap's wife, the most energetic aunt of all. "Where's the little one?" Price asks as the oldest child of the group was nowhere in the home. Usually, she'd sit near her uncles and they'd pamper her for being the first and favourite of all kids…but don't tell that to the others.
"School, my missus is picking her up," Simon says before taking a sip from his drink.
And once his pretty wife arrives, his daughter follows along. Her greeting to her aunts and uncles was dry, with no usual jokes or funny comments towards Uncle Soap's long mohawk.
"Wow..stop there, kid, come back," Gaz says but the 8-year-old ignores him.
It's fascinating how these so-called cold-hearted men have turned soft for their loves and little loves. So, if one of them is hurt, the guns and bombs come back just for a moment.
"What happened to 'er?" Soap asks Simon's wife and she sighs. "A boy in her class made fun of her leather jacket and pink dress, she's been like this since I picked her up," she says and Simons sighs in frustration. "Who is the kid?" Simon asks and his wife gives him a knowing look. Headmasters kid, of course.
"I'm going after that little shit," Simon says and as he gets up from the sofa, the other men follow along.
"Simon, no, don't do that-" "My daughter is a cool kid, if she wants to wear a leather jacket like her dad and her pink dress then she will and that fuckin' kid won't make her question how cool she is," he says through gritted teeth.
The four men make their way to the school.
"Are they going to hurt a kid?" Price's wife asks. "Maybe the dad, but not a kid," Soap's wife says.
An hour later, more than they should've taken, the burly men come back. A small smile appears on the soft face of Simon's daughter. "Daddy!" She runs to him.
The four men wearing pink tiaras, pink fluffy tutus and even some pink shirt Soap found at the store. "Cool dads wear pink," the shirt says and although they were tight shirts, their wives have to admit, they look awesome wearing them.
Simon picks his daughter up, "Like my outfit princess?" he kisses her forehead. "It's like mine!" she smiles and Simon nods. "We were jealous that you had to outshine us this way, so…we had to outshine you," he smiles.
"Now, go get your hair up, we'll serve the boring people food and for us five…we'll hold a tea party before dinner," he smiles as he watches his precious daughter's face light up. There she is and her smile.
It was cute and funny, but beautiful enough to have pictures of this moment.
They were truly family men now and that's what anyone would wish for, even if it included tiaras and a sassy uncle.
At a small table, where their knees hit their chest, the four former SAS soldiers sat around, getting served tea and crumpets by a special little princess.
Tags: @liyanahelena @uniquecroissant
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fugitiveghost · 1 day
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ATE THIS UPPP, FIRST TIME SEWINGGG. would yall buyy?
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bejeweledblondie · 5 months
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When I tell you I was pissing my pants laughing at this.
“This wallpaper is so cute, we could live here” ME IN A NUTSHELL I have ADHD (I’m medicated for it) but when I’m off it this is me 😭
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simon 'ghost' riley x girly!innocent!reader..
when he fucks you you get so overwhelmed, ur body raising with goosebumps, ur nipples pert and sensitive as they brush against his scarred tattooed chest. u cry n whine, making small cute gasps everytime he bottoms out into you, drool leaking from ur mouth as ur mascara makes small streaks down ur face.
he alternates between slow n hard thrusts and fast and hard thrusts, his cock making ur tummy flutter as he manhandles u (sort of accidentally, he kind of forgets how much smaller than him u are), he'll stick his thumb in ur mouth, his other fingers grasping onto the side of ur face as he forces you to look up at him with doe eyes. its a sweaty, slippery mess between the two of u as u sniffle, digging ur light-pink polished manicured nails into his bulky biceps, rutting ur hips upward as u now have no control over what ur lower body does. ur swollen button rubbing gently against the dark curls of his lower region.
everything feels so good, ur eyes crossing n closing as u wrap ur arms around him, his scent intoxicating and surrounding you.
when u cum, ur cunt fluttering around his dick, ur hole stretched so wide u can feel him in ur tummy, ur whole body stiffens, and u havent realized that u have not taken a breath yet until simon shushes you through his grunts then runs his large hand along the side of ur torso as a means of trying to calm u--even though his hips are stuttering and hes pounding into you, using u. "breathe, sweet girl, breathe." his voice is strained as he fucks ur hole, ur cunt tightening around him. ur back arches off the mattress, ur breasts rubbing against his chest, furthering ur intense climax as u gasp for air, small sobs escaping ur throat as simon kisses ur neck then ur lips messily, his cock still driving inside of you. he holds u close to him as he teeters off of the edge, ur hips bucking wildly, ur cum dripping onto the sheets underneath you, ur eyebrows pinched upwards as u hug simon closer to ur body. u have never felt anything like this. not before him, at least.
"i got you, baby..I got you," he whispers gruffly, his accent more prominant as he comes, his seed warming ur pussy as he fucks it into u, choking on a moan as he grips ur body closer to his, ramming into u animalistically-- the act of him using u and his fingers bruising ur hips making another wave of ur orgasm rock through ur body, whines and moans leaving ur throat. "that's it..good girll." he whispers, slowing his hips. "did such a good job, didn't you sweet girl? such a good job. 's okay know it's alot.." u slump onto him as u come down from ur high, whining softly as ur drool gets on his shoulder, his rough hands roaming ur body as he gives u lots of kisses, praising u <333
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tobascoart · 20 days
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When you have different boundaries
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hxltic · 8 months
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bein yelled at by ghost. you’ve been in the army this long, been yelled at by sergeants and others alike, majority men—obviously—but none of them like this. The others you didn’t even flinch as they screamed directly into your ears, probably even worse than other men just to intimidate you as a woman.
You caught him in a bad mood and it seemed completely unrelated to work, but as his partner and soldier, he had to tell you things that you didn’t want to hear.
“Hey, I got your message Simon, didn’t mean for that to happen. Won’t let it happen again.” You place some things of yours down on the dresser as you enter his quarters. He’s standing there in thought, unreadable.
His mask is still on with his gear connected to his body.
“Damn right, you won’t.” He gruffs, heavy in his accent.
All you could do was question what this meant. Would he not let you do it again? Were you being thrown in a different squad?
“What does that mean?” You stop your moving for a direct answer. You almost took that personally.
He explains, “You made an impulsive decision that would have led to half our unit being taken out. The amount we sent to that building was more than usual.”
“I understand, and that was on me. In my defense though: it was a suggestion in the moment, one that the other members also formally agreed to. It wasn’t just me.” You giggle, even though you’re aware these aren’t giggling matters. You just needed to lighten the mood.
“There were 35 men in that building alone. Led by Gaz and König!”
He fully pronounced the words, turning to you aggressively. Had you known this was the severity of his mood, you never would’ve taunted him in any type of way. This was when he had to be your boss.
“I understand but-“
“It doesn’t matter who agreed! You are seen as a leader standing next to me and you introduced the idea. I cannot be there to stop you every time you do something stupid.” His eyes were laced with anger, an anger that arose out of the protection built for his squad over the years.
“Every time?”
He said that like you did something stupid every day. He’s had bad missions before too, and we should all just be happy everyone made it back safe. Well, maybe one or two. He quickly turns to you, but stays in his spot.
“Every bloody time. It’s the mission before that. Then that. You cannot keep jeopardizing this team.”
Despite the offense you took to his words, you understood him.
“I understand.” You speak. For the night, you split off into your own quarters, not wanting to anger him any more than you already have. You’ll just have to be better with your decisions. There’s more than just your life on the line now.
The next few days, you’ve been kind of stand off-ish, hoping he’d come to you when he was feeling so. Instead, you were all assigned a mission, one they’d put you in charge of. Naturally, you’d felt it best to prove yourself and win his attention back. He was still Simon, and you still loved him.
. .
You all returned back to base with a more than successful mission under your belt. This made you extremely happy, as it’s finally a good time to speak to him.
You approach his door, then knock. You never knock.
A deep, “Come in,” is all you get.
You walk in to him sitting at his desk, his back to the door.
“Hey,” is all you can muster. You’d had the balls to walk in, but Simon is still a scary man. Your hands come down from his shoulders to massage over his biceps.
“I’m sorry for the past few days. I hope I redeemed myself?” You try.
“Hm,” He grunts, standing from his desk and filing papers into the drawers. This made you a little wary.
“Are you feeling okay Simon?” You fiddle your fingers together as you watch him walk around to the other side of the table.
“Fuckin’ fabulous.”
Your hands drop. You’d expected something, or some type of praise. Instead, you got this.
“What’s wrong? I thought I did good this time?”
“Is there something you want?” He shoots back. You glance at him, then around the room, then the floor. “No? Alright then.” He continues on as if you aren’t there. You stand in disbelief.
“What has got you so upset Simon? You can talk to me.”
“Did ya come in my room with nothin to say? What are you here for?” he snaps back.
This was a knife in the heart. You’d been terrified of the business portion of your relationship engulfing the rest, but you didn’t want to believe it. Maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe it wasn’t you.
“Literally what is your problem?” You wanted to yell, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t in your nature. It didn’t feel right yelling at him.
You attempt to walk to his front, hoping that seeing your face would bring him some sense of calmness or bring him back down to Earth, but that was long gone. He’d lost all professionalism or softness.
Or maybe that was just it, and there was too much professionalism.
You reach him and plead, “Simon please, let me help y-“
“Fuckin’ hell, I don’t need your goddamn help!”
His head whips around, and that was all it took for you to realize the severity of everything going on. You’d physically retracted back and flinched. It’d been a long time since you’d done that.
“What do you want?” He throws the pen he’d held to the wall, and if you could see, you’d say there was a visible dent. That was your second step back, and you only took more as he came forward powerfully, his frame enlarging with each step.
“I-“
“Do you want me to praise you for your fuckin’ job? Now that you’ve decided to take it seriously?” He growls.
This was completely untrue, it wasn’t easy getting into 141, and it didn’t take anything but seriousness. Despite this, it didn’t take away from how his voice seemed to reverberate through your bones. You were retreating from him the best you could, but you didn’t want to look away, afraid it’d make him angrier.
Your hands felt around behind you as you got closer and closer to the wall, but not before detecting a small table that almost had you stumbling backwards when you knocked it over. Along with some more pens, a vase fell, shattering about and leaving tiny shards for your feet to step on the one day you decided not to wear the house slippers Gaz always made fun of you for.
He could literally take your breath away, but the piercing sensation under you couldn’t compare to the expression he wore that was dripping with malice. You felt like prey under a predator, caged to the wall with nowhere to go.
Your back hit with a thump, your hands flying back to the wall but close to your figure. You’d wanted to put them between you two, hoping it’d prevent him from coming closer, but it wouldn’t work. So now you search for separation by forcing your cheek against the wall, eyes frantically darting back and forth between nothing in particular and the raging man towering over you. You don’t think you could look at him anymore.
You whisper, “S-Simon. Please-”
He was so close his breath was to your ear as he leaned over. You were scared. In fact, you’d spoke it so lightly, you don’t even remember if you did or if it was just a thought.
“This,” he was referring to today, “is absolute bare minimum. Your job is to take orders, then get it done with the least. Casualties. Possible. Do you understand me?” He enunciates every part of the sentence, every word, so deep and low but strong that you had no choice but for it to be engraved in your brain. He was infuriated.
You didn’t want to breath too hard, afraid it’d also upset him, so your shortness of breath had you quickly nodding. The last words had you trembling.
“Do you fuckin’ understand me?” His words seem to shake the room, booming loud and clear enough to make you flinch again and your eyes squeeze shut. It was even worse than before—you were terrified.
He made you feel like a little girl again, answering to her father that she could never seem to impress no matter what she did. That’s why she joined the army. So she could be in charge.
But it didn’t stop because your eyes had to blink open to reality, and the time bomb called a response was ticking, just like his already gone patience. It also didn’t stop things from getting blurry, and before you knew or could stop it, there was a tear gathering that eventually released to your cheek.
“Y-yes sir,” you whimper on unsteady breath, Closing your eyes in prayer he would retreat. He was there for a little longer, but once you felt his presence leave back into the heart of his room, you still didn’t move an inch. You eventually shuffled uncomfortably to the door, not even feeling okay enough to close it behind you. You dashed as fast as one could go with millions of tiny glass in their feet, and before tending to it, you shut your door and fell to your butt with your back pressed against it and cried.
It’d been so long since you’ve cried over this specific issue; you thought you’d left it behind you. You technically had, but it was reawakened. The mission fatigued you, and you were so exhausted, but the only reason you didn’t lay your head down in the bed and fall asleep was the glass that would distribute painfully throughout your sheets.
You wrapped your feet and slipped into the night with the occasional sob.
. .
Sometime in the night, your locked room was intruded, assumingely by the one man graced with a key. Large hands scooped you up effortlessly, before bringing your head to one shoulder. You felt warm lips seep into your forehead.
He whispered things to you, things you couldn’t hear, but your head was held protectively with his strong hand over your ear. You’d been rested in another bed, one that smelled like him. He removed the tape from your feet and actually cleaned your wounds before tucking you in and sliding in beside you.
He felt like he didn’t deserve it, the guilt enough to bring him to tears, but he also felt like he didn’t deserve to cry. So instead, he tucks your head into his body closer, praying the sleeping version of you would recognize this as an apology until the morning.
©️ hxltic pt.2!
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hereisrachel · 5 months
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Sitting on their lap, 141 x reader headcanons ! (Realistic)
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- They get hard.
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I hope you enjoyed this!!
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sweetiecutie · 4 months
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dilf!konig who wants to teach you how to properly kiss, muttering about how all your past boyfriends could never kiss you like him ????
somethin along the lines of that... ❤️
Pairing: dilf! König x fem! Reader
Warnings: mdni, age gap, making out, grinding
- Just relax baby. Don’t do anything, - König murmured against your lips, his hot breath brushed against your flushed cheeks. His huge hand was cupping the angle of your jaw, long fingers tangled in your soft hair while the other one wandered up and down your way smaller body, caressing the dip of your waist and plumpness of your ass with heavy touches.
You let your mouth fall open slightly, doing as König told you to. Your hips seemed to live a life of their own, squirming and humping against prominent bulge in your daddy’s pants; back arching at the pleasure small friction provided, pushing your chest flush against König’s heaving one.
- That’s it, just do what your intuition tells you to, don’t follow some complicated scheme in your head, silly girl, - he chuckled, his lips brushing yours as he spoke so condescendingly. You whimpered small uh-huh to indicate that you understood, too eager to feel König’s chapped lips against yours once again.
Contented sigh escaped your lungs as König finally kissed you. Your eyelids fluttered closed, tickling his cheeks with long lashes. Your trembling hands raked up and down man’s shoulders and wrapped themselves around strong neck, small fingers tangling in short curly hairs on his nape. It started out as soft suckling and nibbling on each other’s lips, but soon König was licking his way into your mouth greedily, forcing his nimble tongue into your hot cavity.
Wanton moan tore through your chest as König’s hips thrusted upwards, his hard cock nudged your clit just right, even despite layers of fabric separating you two. You tentatively moved your tongue against König’s, swirling around and toying with it. He was actually kissing you, caressing your lips with his, muddling up your thoughts and turning your brain into sparkly mush, not just showing his tongue as deep as it would go into your mouth like those pathetic frat boys you hooked up with before meeting him.
- Mmmmhm, see? See how good I can make you feel just by kissing you? - König murmured, breaking your kiss; a silver string of shared saliva connected your lips still, breaking and falling onto your chin in cold strip. He licked it up, gathering cooled liquid on the tip of his tongue before nudging it back into your mouth for you to suck it off. - Now lay on your back Schatzi, I’ll show you what other things I can do with my mouth <3
Feedback is very appreciated! Askbox is open, feel free to send in requests<3
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konigs-left-pec · 6 months
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PostMission!Ghost is hard the second his feet hit the tarmac, brain swimming in a potent cocktail of adrenaline and testosterone from the fight. He follows you to the hangar with the rest of the team, throat tight and dry as he can't seem to stop staring, hypnotized by your ass and the sway of your hips.
He is practically on said ass the second you head into the unisex bathroom; locking the door and crowding you against the sink. He's still fully geared, can't even pull his tac pants down fast enough, catching on his holsters. You'd laugh at the absurdity of it if you weren't burning with the same desire that's taken him. He just barely gets free enough to let his cock out, so hard it's painful at this point. You aren't ready, but you don't care. The stretch burns, your hands fluttering helplessly on his shoulders as you're speared on his enormous length. His head is bowed, resting on your shoulder as he gasps brokenly into your ear like every thrust is agony.
Just like that...s'fuckin good f'me...
He's winding you up; the hunger in your belly coiling tighter and tighter with the way he's effectively biting at your neck, gloved hands clutching and pushing at your hips and ass demanding you meet his brutal pace. He's sucking in air through clenched teeth, praise pouring out past parted lips as his thrusts turn somehow even more erratic. He always comes hard and fast like this. You'd be upset if he didn't feel so damn good.
You're so close when he comes on a strangled groan, hips stuttering to a halt as he grinds into you as deeply as he can manage. He's panting while his head clears, cock still hard and flexing against that spot deep within you. Ghost fixes you with a boyish smile, brown eyes glazed over and warm like the flush coloring his cheeks as your eyes meet.
m'sorry, love. I couldn't help it.
The gloved hand not currently propping you against the sink presses suddenly against your lips, a coy invitation to bite. His smirk widened imperceptibly as he worked his hand free, sliding down between your bodies with practiced ease to circle your aching clit. He has you gasping wantonly into his mouth in record time, fingers clenched tight against his flak vest as your orgasm swells up like a tidal wave to decimate you, all while he's purring huskily into your ear with each sweet pulse...
Good girl.
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months
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Your Husband Simon "Ghost" Riley (Scenario)
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Credits to the creator of the photo @ave661, ugh the ghost pictures just keep getting me. She's too good at what she does. The photo is in this post.
(Chubby reader kinda???)
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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I've been thinking about what touch starved husband Simon "Ghost" Riley would be like;
Your husband Simon Riley who is always desperate to come home to you, every minute he spends in deployment is an eternity away from you.
Your husband Simon Riley who likes being held, him sprawled across the bed on top of you, head on your chest while you play with his hair. His muscular arms wrapped around you tightly, letting out soft moans at the feeling of your nails gently scratching his scalp. He taps on you whenever you stop so you could continue and groans when you giggle, knowing damn well you were teasing him.
"Lovie, stop teasing.."
"But Si.."
"Stop giggling-"
Your husband Simon Riley who loves it when you trace his tattoos with your nails, he's grown accustomed to the feeling. He doesn't even wait for you, he just asks you to do so. Rolling his sleeve up and letting out a short deep chuckle.
Your husband Simon Riley who's in love with the way you look at him, he doesn't notice it but his pupils dilate when looking at you.
Your husband Simon Riley who loves hugging you from behind, looking from over your shoulder to see what you were doing. "What are you up to lovie..?" He whispers, lips finding the top of your head.
Your husband Simon Riley who absolutely loves lifting you up to reach things, hoisting you up by your plump hips, so much so that he purposefully placing things high up on the shelves.
"Come on now Mrs. Riley, up you go"
"Simon..!"
Your husband Simon Riley who sometimes keeps the mask on, it melts your heart everytime you see his eyes squint from almost smiling ear to ear. He doesn't have to tell you that it's because of you, but you know.
Your husband Simon Riley who is still living in the honeymoon phase, definitely abusing his power to be able to call you his wife to almost anyone he talks to. Boasts about anything and everything about you, often makes jokes about how he loves you.
Your husband Simon Riley who finds any excuse to touch and hold you, everything feels so natural with him. Loves peppering kisses on your neck just to get a squeal and giggles from you. Especially in the bedroom, your pleasure is his priority.
Dad!Ghost x Wife!Reader drabble :)
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blingblong55 · 2 months
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Gorgeous soldier
R/N is giving out name tags for a meeting
Soap: I need my name-
R/N: *Pats his chest with the sticker* along you go
Gaz: hey, r/n-
R/N: *pats his chest and then squeezes it with the sticker* along you go, sexy
Price: kid, I need my name tag
R/N: I can give you more than a name tag *winks*
Price just takes the name tag from R/N's hand
Ghost comes by next
R/N: *stares, mesmerized*
Ghost: My name is Ghost, I need my name tag
R/N:....I know who you are, sorry, I just got lost in your eyes
From the other side of the room
Soap: and all I got was a "along you go"?
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roxy-writes · 8 months
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nsfw konig headcanons!!!
-virgin!konig doesn’t know shit about female anatomy before he gets with you. you have to guide him to where you wanna be touched, tell him how much pressure to apply, how fast to go, etc. he’s a very quick learner, though, and he easily picks up on what you like.
-this man cums so fast the first time you fuck. he can cum multiple times with barely any breaks in between, though. but due to his previous lack of action before you he’s really sensitive.
-he’s uncut and has the thickest cock ever. it’s a struggle to fit it inside of you even with prep. and the head of his cock is super sensitive because he’s uncircumcised, so he gets really worked up when you palm the tip.
-he begs. if you ride him and start going really slow to tease him he’ll be whimpering and whining for you to speed up so he can get that release he needs. if you keep trying to tease him, though, he’ll just grab you by the hips and force you to move at his pace.
-he can get really jealous at times. he trusts you completely, but sometimes he just ends up spiraling when he sees other men getting too touchy with you. if you’re in public, he often ends up pulling you into a restroom to fuck you in one of the stalls.
-he has godly stamina. he can go multiple rounds in every position you can think of.
-he’s so fucking horny all the time. he gets so desperate too, hanging around you like a lost puppy. he doesn’t really speak up when he wants to fuck, he just hopes you’ll notice the monster bulge in his pants(it’s impossible not to).
-he has a size kink and loves manhandling you. he likes to rub his dick against your pussy before he fucks you just to see how big his cock his compared to it.
-i did a bunch of stuff about this but DRY HUMPING. he’s weak for it. he loves just feeling your heat through your clothes and rutting against it until you both cum, and he loves when you offer to clean up the mess he made in his pants with your mouth.
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap
Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.
Word Count: 4k
Part 2: READ HERE
The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you. 
Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction. 
Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.
All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.  
Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly. 
“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”
As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”
To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”
Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”
Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.  
Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says. 
The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze. 
You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit. 
And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.
“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement. 
You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.
“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”
He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”
You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.
With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge. 
You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.  
The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore. 
The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”
He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?” 
Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”
“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.
“Yes,” you confirm. 
Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.
Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.
The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.
Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.  
It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”
Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.
Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.
Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together. 
How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?
The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.
You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth. 
That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him. 
The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth. 
And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.
You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.
The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand. 
Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his. 
Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment. 
Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed. 
Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.
“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”
It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready.  But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own. 
By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent. 
You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.
“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.
Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both. 
Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.
Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”  
You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie. 
“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”
You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case. 
“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.
You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back. 
“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”
The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.
Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up. 
You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken. 
Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.
The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it. 
Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed. 
This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.
And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.
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d0youc0py · 9 months
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Heyyy. This might b triggering so it’s okay if u don’t do it, but how would 141 + Konig react if reader was @ her friends house and got in the middle of an argument between friend + her bf and friends bf ended up hitting reader? (Kinda self indulgent 🫣)
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“You always do this Simon!” You growled, shoving some clothes into an overnight bag.
“Do what?” He snapped back. He stood in the doorway, trying to slow his breathing. He was upset- more than upset, but he refused to loose his patience with you. “Just want to keep you safe kid.” He reminded.
“You’re trying to isolate me!” You shouted, making your way towards the bathroom. “Every time I try to do anything you always tell me it’s not safe- or that I shouldn’t trust this person. Newsflash Simon I have been able to survive on this earth without you.”
“I don’t like him.” He held strong. He wouldn’t compromise with you if he felt you were at risk. Your friend had invited you to spend the night at her house for a sleepover, and when you broke the news to Simon his first question was: ‘will that slag of hers be there?’ To be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. Why did it matter if he was there? You knew Simon trusted you but his constant distrust of other people was starting to wear on you.
“That doesn’t really matter Simon.” You sighed. You stood in front of him expectantly, waiting for him to move out of the frame. “Besides what evidence to you have against him?”
“He’s a strange man.” He responded.
“He’s not a stranger Simon. We’ve been on like three double dates with them.” You huffed, taking it upon yourself to push past him when he refused to move. He growled to himself, following you around the flat. Suddenly his hands gripped your hips pulling you back towards him. His neck bent down and you instinctually made room for his head by tilting yours to the side.
“Just stay home with me tonight, yeah?” The anger left your body at his soft words and the small kisses placed against your neck. “Or at least say you can’t spend the night. No reason for you to be away for that long.” You turned in his arms, placing a kiss against his chin.
“Simon I’ll be fine, yeah?” You murmured, causing another huff to escape him.
•••
That turned out to be a fat lie.
“Do you think Simon’s going to propose anytime soon?” She asked causing you to flush. “You two have been together for what, three, four years?”
“Just two.” You corrected politely. “I don’t know honestly, haven’t really thought about it much.”
“Such a lie.” She snickered, wiggling her brows at you. You rolled your eyes waving her off.
“Keep it down in there!” You both jumped at the sudden boom from the living room.
“Sorry Rick!” Your friend shouted, seemingly unbothered by his nasty tone. A pit formed in your stomach.
“He always talk to you like that?” You asked, keeping your voice down. She looked at you with a small smile.
“Just when I’m bothering him. Surely Simon snaps at you.” She explained. How could she not realize how out of touch her statement was.
“Not like that.” You said.
“What’s that suppose to mean?” You winced as Ricks voice rung out from behind you. How the hell were you suppose to get out of this one? “You comin into my house, filling my girls head with shite?” He snarled. You quickly stood up.
“No, course not.” You smiled, making your way towards the door.
“I’m good to her.” He huffed, following your footsteps. You nodded your head in agreement.
“I’m sure you are.” You offered a weak smile, peaking behind you to make sure you didn’t trip over any furniture. His arm darted out gripping yours, tugging you close to him.
“You’re sure?” He pressed. You were a quivering mess at this point. Fear and adrenaline being to much for your body to process.
“Rick!” Your friend yelled. He threw a harsh ‘shut up’ over his shoulder. Your mind raced trying to remember even just one technique Simon had showed you. You wished you had payed more attention, instead of just staring at his arms the whole time.
“You’re sure?” He growled again giving you a shake.
“Stop!” You shouted. It was met with a harsh smack to your face.
“I’ve got neighbors you little”- His words were cut off as Simon’s words finally rang through your head:
“When in doubt, aim for the balls or the throat.”
You decided the first one was the most viable option. It had caught him off guard enough to loosen his grip and it was all you needed, slamming the front door shut behind you. You had made it down the flight of stairs, your hands searching your pockets for your phone only to realize you had left it inside.
“Fuck.” You whimpered, trying to make heads or tails of where you were. You weren’t overly familiar with this area. But you were familiar with the fast approaching figure heading towards you. “Simon.” You gasped, hurdling yourself towards him. You didn’t know why he was here but you sure as shit weren’t complaining.
Even through your own shakes you could feel him tremble against you. You let out a sob as he tried to pull away from you.
“He touch you?” He growled, none of it’s malice towards you. Your cheek burned and you could only imagine the mark it had left.
“I want to go home.” You sputtered, burying your face in the safety of his shoulder. He swallowed down his anger to the best of his ability.
“Alright, sweetheart.” He murmured against your head. He carried you to the truck, buckling you up. He continued to let you cling to him until you had calmed, and the loudest thing between you two was his pounding heartbeat. “Tell me what happened, yeah?” He hummed, trying his hardest to fake some calmness.
“He grabbed my arm.” You whispered. His chest heaved. “And”- you cut yourself off. Taking a small breath you pulled away from him, his heated eyes quickly falling on the bruise already spreading over half your face. His face flushed, but he was able to hold in the burning of his body.
“Sweetheart.” He said slowly. He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Give me the apartment number.”
“1G.” You said, with surprisingly little hesitation. Whatever Simon was about to do, it was deserved.
When Simon came back he was shockingly clean, and shockingly poised. He tossed your overnight bag into the back seat and handed you your phone when he got into the drivers seat.
“Simon”- he cut you off by tangling both your hands with one of his, pulling out of the parking garage. You didn’t need to know. You didn’t need to know that he had broken down a door- and almost every bone in that man’s body. That he had been waiting outside the apartment building for the past three hours, stewing in his own protectiveness. Your friend wasn’t even mad. She didn’t bat an eye when Simon asked to use her bathroom to clean himself up a bit- not wanting that man’s blood anywhere near your precious body.
He brought your hands up pressing a kiss against your knuckles, pulling into the grocery store parking lot for a bag of frozen peas and ice cream.
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He wasn’t suppose to be home yet. He had at least another week away- another week for your bruised face to heal. It had just began to look better, the harsh purple color fading to more of a greenish yellow color.
He opened the door, steadying himself for the only attack he actually enjoyed. Your pressing yourself as close to him as you could, tangling your limbs with any part of him, your lips suffocating any thought he had other than he was finally home with you. His stomach dropped when it never came, shutting to door behind him his bag thumping loud against the floor.
“Sweetheart?” His voice boomed, the worst running through his head. He reminded himself he wasn’t suppose to be home for another week and that you weren’t expecting him. Yet your car was in the driveway and there was still no sign of you.
“I’m here.” His shoulders relaxed, your voice melting his brain just right.
“Where are y”- he stopped himself. You were standing in front of him. The realization as to why you weren’t all over him right now crashing down on him harder than a bullet. You- his literal everything- adorned with a sickening brush on your cheek. The same cheek he would brush his beard against to make you laugh. The same cheek his fingers would stroke to self soothe when his brain was just too loud. The same cheek that would flush berry red when he mumbled certain things against you.
“I can explain.” You said quickly, allowing him to maneuver the two of you to the couch. You quickly found your designated spot on his lap, hoping your touch would cause the storm that was about to ensure lighten.
“I want a name.” His voice was calm. Too calm.
“It was an accident. Fell in the garden and hit myself on that big rock you keep telling me to look out for.”
He wasn’t buying it. His face stone cold, as his thumb traced over the healing brush gently.
“I’ll be good.” He assured. He couldn’t fathom why you wanted to protect this person. Must’ve been someone you knew. “Name, please.”
“John.” You whined, clawing at his shirt. He huffed and relaxed you against him, resting his cheek against the top of your head.
“You don’t want to tell me because you think I’ll overreact.” He couldn’t even blame you for that. The man would happily start a war over you. “I won’t touch ‘em, I promise.” He whispered. His hand rubbed up and down your back and you realized just how much you needed the comfort. His hand stopped at your neck, massaging the tense muscles. “Just need to know who hurt my love, hmm?”
“Promise you won’t hurt anyone?” You insisted using his chest to cover up a yawn. He hummed, nodding his head.
“Rick. Remember Kelsey’s boyfriend? I went over to her house and he showed up drunk yelling at her about some fight they had earlier. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and before I knew it he hit me.” You explained. The normally comfortable body under you had turned ridged, his heartbeat drumming against your ear. “John?”
“That wasn’t so hard was it?” He chuckled slowly against your temple. “Did you”-
“Put a frozen steak on it? Yeah.”
“I’m sorry that happened darling.” He sighed. His large hands gripped your sides pulling you away from him just for a moment. “If something like that ever happens again you call me, understand?” His eyebrow rose to show his seriousness.
“Yes sir.” You swore a small smile on your lips.
He had kept his promise- he didn’t hurt anyone. But he couldn’t allow someone who hurt you live a comfortable life. It would go against his oath to you if he did.
And besides, someone has to make the enemy afraid of the dark.
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He should’ve know better than to leave you alone. He thought that for just one moment while he went to the bathroom it would be safe. You had been tucked under his arm the whole evening, so everyone knew who you were there with. It was his fault for assuming his physique was enough to keep any unwanted advancements away. Time slowed as he came out of the bathroom, his trained eyes spotting you right where he had left you, except you were on the floor. Tears streaming down that perfect face of yours, your own hand cupping your cheek. He didn’t even need to see your best friend pulling at her boyfriends arm in shock- or the way his green eyes stared at his own hand like it had just appeared out of thin air to know what had happened.
Johnny was by your side in an instant, pulling your hazy body to its feet. He’d experienced this before on the field. Everything moving in slow motion- hyper focusing on the important things. Right now it was you.
“Mac.” You gasped, your fingers curling into his shirt sleeve. Like a shockwave he was pulled back into real time. The loud chatter of the bar. The smell of cigarettes and stale beer. The fear rolling off of you. It made his blood boil. He turned to look at Rick his mind going into autopilot. His hand shot out grabbing him by the shirt collar on flinging him backwards. The bar went dead silent the only sound was Ricks body slamming into the wall of liquor bottles behind the bar. Johnny took a few steps forward wanting to finish what he had just started. That wasn’t enough of a punishment. He wouldn’t be happy till he was unrecognizable. “Jo.” Your pleading voice snapped him out of it once more.
In that moment he realized how selfish he was. You were scared and needed assurance, not seeing your husband nearly kill someone. He wrapped a sturdy arm around you guiding you out of the disheveled bar. The cold felt good against your heated bodies.
“I don’t know what happened.” You sputtered, letting the Scot support your body weight. “Camilla was making a joke about how angry Rick gets when she folds his laundry wrong and I made a joke about how she still does his laundry and then he”-
You couldn’t even get through the story.
“Let me see.” Johnny hushed, gently removing your hand from your face. He leaned forward pressing a light kiss against the throbbing flesh. “How bad does it hurt?”
“Six out of ten.” You responded, nuzzling your way back into his strong chest. All you wanted was to be home in bed in the safety of his arms. The smell of pine tickled your brain enough for the tears to stop.
“Should go back there and”-
“No.” You huffed.
“That number is too damn high for me to let him off easy.”
“Easy? You threw the man across the room with one hand.” You reminded.
“Should make it so he only has one hand.”
“Johnny.” The use of his full name stopped the unintelligible Scottish rambling that was sure to ensue. “Can we go home please?”
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“Hey sweetheart, need me to come pick you up?” Kyle spoke into the phone that was resting between his shoulder and his cheek. When you sniffled into the phone he didn’t even bother to pause his game, his fingers gripping the device in his hand.
“Ky.” You mumbled. You mumbled in that specific tone that cracked his heart in such a wince worthy way. “I need help.” His blood ran cold.
“Stay on the phone with me, yeah.” He demanded, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes. “What happened?” The sound of his car starting settled you a little bit. “You still at your friends house?”
“No, I’m down the street, by the library.” You sniffed. “He hit me, Ky.”
A sound let Kyles throat- a mix of a growl and a whine. His foot pressed even harder against the accelerator, running straight through a red light. His body was shaking, adrenaline heightening his senses. He wished the two of you didn’t live in such a big city with so much fucking traffic.
“Who’s he?” Kyle snarled.
“Jess’s boyfriend.” You emphasized. “They got into a stupid fight about which Pizza to order for lunch and all I did was fucking agree with her.”
He felt sick. He’d seen a lot of gruesome shit in his life, but the thought of someone hurting you took the cake. He could imagine how scared you were- how scared you are. He can see the tears welling up in your eyes and he imagined your heart rate was about the same as his right now. He can imagine you scrambling to find a way out of there- away from the danger.
“After this we’re practicing those damn self dense moves.” He gritted. You mumbled an ‘okay’ before seeing a familiar sleek, black car pull up next to you.
“How’d you get here so fast?” You questioned, hanging up the phone as he got out of the car.
“Let me see.” He insisted, pressing the back of his palm against your heated cheek. You winced, shying away. “Let’s go get you some ice.” He said mostly to himself. He rested a hand on the back of your neck guiding you to the passenger side.
He kept his hand in your lap the whole drive to the grocery store. “What pizza did he want?”
“Pepperoni with mushrooms.” You replied. The rest of the ride was silent, Kyle went into the store without you.
“Hold this against your face.” He pressed a bag of frozen peas to your cheek. He unwrapped your favorite candy bar, placing it in your lap. Even with your swollen face you couldn’t stop a smile. “I need to make a quick stop before we go home.” His eyes flickered over to you, the same flash of anger striking through him as he took your appearance in. You didn’t think anything of it till he turned down your friends street.
“Kyle.” You mumbled. The last thing you wanted to do was be back here.
“I know baby, I know.” He tried his best to soothe, but he was so riled up. He needed to get this out of his system. Besides he couldn’t just let people hurt you and get away with it. “Stay here, I’ll only be a second.” He closed the door behind him, grabbing a frozen pizza that you didn’t even know he got out of the backseat. You watched anxiously as he made his way up the driveway ringing the doorbell.
The door opened to reveal Rick and Kyle wasted absolutely no time shoving the frozen pizza in his face. The strength of it sent Rick flying backwards and Kyle took the upmost pleasure in the loud crack of his nose breaking.
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“Traffic is bad mein Herz. I’m going to be a little late.” You huffed at his words.
“Drive safe I’ll see you soon.”
“He running late?” Your friend questioned as you made your way back into the kitchen.
“Yeah, should be here soon though.” She smiled, taking dinner out of the oven. “Help me set up?” She asked over her shoulder, making her way to the dinning room. You began grabbing the silverware out of the drawer.
“No, Konig?” Rick asked, sitting down at the kitchen island. You shook your head.
“He’ll be here soon.” You assured.
“That’s too bad.” His hand landing on your hip followed his slimy words.
“What are you doing?” You spat, backing away. He shushed you.
“Keep you’re voice down. Don’t want her to find us out, yeah?” He said, nodding his head towards the dinning room.
“There is nothing to find out!” You must’ve said it too loud, because Ricks hand flung forward connecting with your cheek. You dropped the spoons in your hand, then clattering loudly on the floor. You didn’t even have time to feel scared, catching sight of the colossal figure in the doorway.
Rick followed your gaze and it was almost laugh worthy at how quickly he lost all confidence.
“Schatz?” Konig held out his car keys to you. “Wait in the car, please.”
Gentle blue eyes watched you, almost chuckling at the way you skipped over to him. Konig reveled in the way you trusted him. Trusted him to take care of you- to protect you. Later he would wrap you up in his arms and hold a bag of ice to your face, but right now he had other things to deal with.
“And turn the music up. It might get loud in here.”
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