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captianprices40thson · 7 months

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Can you make a story for October, a male reader x soap. Where before the reader joined the 141 he was in a different military unit and one evening he got captured by the enemy and was murdered by dismemberment but some mad scientist there put him back together using the dismembered pieces. He came back by being hit by lighting. So now he kind of looks like frankenstein. he doesn't have all the bolts or dead skin, but he has one sliver gray eye. the other one is a light yellow, and he also has stitches on his face and his body. When he was finally rescued and back with his team, some were afraid of him and some belittled him. So he wears full body gear now so no one can fully see him. After joining the 141 he gets hurt really really REALLY badly and a some of his stitches rip, he tries to brush it off like it's nothing but soap refuses to believe him, so he kinda forcefully pulls male readers gear off and sees him body for the first time.

I'LL LEAVE THE REACTIONS OF SOAP TO YOU. Also can you do the reactions of the 141 too. Like maybe there in the room too when soap takes the gear off...

If you're not comfy with the dismemberment, you can just have it implied.

Happy early halloween, if you celebrate it🎃🎃🎃💖💖💖🙃🙃🙃

They took the credit for your second symphony, rewritten by machine and new technology.

Pairing: John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Male Reader

Requested: Yes

Word count: 5.4k

Pronouns used: You/Yourself. Reader referred to as Y/N and male titles/compliments.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, blood, gore, dismemberment to the best best of my ability, fluff, angst, so much death on god, brutal deaths, stitches, skin ripping, bad language.

Notes: Finished this at 1 in the morning and posting it during Japanese class at school, going to go over and review it soon, but I want to get this out soon as possible. I loved this request and just saying, my inbox is open! If you’re not sure on what I do and don’t write, check my page!

“Y/N?” “Huh? “Y/N, were you even listening?” Your commander asked, a stern look on her face. You didn’t even realise how zoned out you had been, oblivious to the fact that the vast majority of your team had already prepped up.

“Oh…Sorry, Captain.” You apologised, standing up from your seat on the bench and making way to go put on your gear. Of course you were going to be a bit freaked and zoned out, this was a deadly mission. You knew your Captain was going to need everyone to be in tip top shape for this mission to go smoothly, if you slipped up and did something wrong…it would cost lives.

“Come on, Y/N. I need my best man out there today, not distracted Y/N, okay?” Your Captain told you, giving you a small pat on the shoulder. Valencia was a nice woman, even let you call her ‘Val’ on the odd occasion. She was a good person, believed in the good of the world more than one person should. She believed in you as well, she knew you could be great.

You nodded, placing your helmet on and giving her a thumbs up. The rest of the team were just waiting for you to finish up before they would leave, an indicator that this mission was already unorganised. A bad feeling, like a black hole, had appeared in your stomach.

“Alright men! Let’s do this. You all know the plan. I want Oak and Close going in from the left, Wilson and Stampler on the right. O’Niel and Bennets are on standby back here and C/N will be heading in from behind as our sniper. We have MedVac ready for those who will need it. Remember, we are going after Andrei Kowalski and his men. This is capture or kill. All clear?” Valencia cut you from your thoughts of dread by announcing the mission was about to start. You’d all get into your helicopter and make your way there…then would come the warfare and violence. You had become null to it by now, the screams and bloodshed were all but nothing to you.

It was liked you had blinked and you were on the field. Time meant nothing to you as you ran through the warzone, the occasional screams of your team members were able to be heard from miles away, sometimes the radio would cackle and you’d catch them conversing with one another, but you were alone in your field…

Always alone.

“C/N? Do you have eyes on him?” Your Captain’s voice called in from the radio, bringing you back to the mission on hand.Your eyes adjusted to look through the scope aimed at the building the team was meant to be invadinging. The lack of your team members indicated they seemed to be receiving a little more resistance than expected.

“Not yet, Captain. I see some of his guards, but not him. I’ll try and get into a better position.” You responded, getting up from your spot on the floor. Your suit was heavier and harder to move in considering it was a camo sniper version, but it was better than being spotted and murdered because an enemy saw you.

You adjusted yourself and lay down on the wet ground. The mud helped cover parts of your gear that didn’t fit in with the terrain, but you still had that odd feeling. That sense of unease that you just couldn’t seem to shake. You had gotten this feeling before on other missions, but it never led to anything.

And it was never this bad.

“C/N. They’re breaching the building now. Mission’s been changed, we’re taking out Andrei at whatever cost. We won’t be able to capture him.” Valencia’s thick English accent came over your radio, startling you a bit. You were a trained sniper, but somehow you were always caught off guard by the one thing you can always expect. You radioed back, confirming you got the message and were proceeding with the instructions.

Your voice drowned out the sound of the footsteps behind you. The cackle of the radio concealed the heavy breathing of the soldier lurking just a few steps away from you. You moved your arms to push yourself up, the rustle of your clothing covering the sound of his body standing over yours, his feet either side of your torso.

“Boo.”

You knew that voice, that unmistakable voice that always seemed to have a smirk behind it. A witty tone that had no business being there. The stench of the cigarette that always seemed to follow the man standing above you. You quickly turned your body around, abandoning the sniper rifle you were holding and just focusing on the fact that he was standing above you. Your eyes snapped up to look at him, your pupils dilating as you processed that it was in fact him standing above you.

Creeper. You had given him that name. When you served as rookies together when you first joined the force, it had become a habit for him to appear out of the blue and scare the hell out of you. He was Creeper to you even after he betrayed your team and you’re fairly certain that's what he is to everyone else as well.

“Alons-” You whispered, but he cut you off, his gun whipping around from his side and now inches away from your eyes. Your breath hitched, knowing you were done for. You looked away from the gun and back up to him, his cold dark brown eye meeting yours. The other eye was a pure white, you cringed every time you thought of the incident which caused him to be blinded. You knew he blamed you…

Maybe that's what drove him to betrayal.

“It’s Creeper, Y/N. I don’t go by that name anymore.” He hissed, his finger on the trigger twitching as he spoke. He was serious, he was going to shoot you and have no mercy about it. This was it…you were going to die here.

“I’m not going to kill you with this gun, Y/N…” He began, lowering the gun a bit. You let go of the breath you were holding from relief, but that was met with a slap to the face that was what he did next. He placed the gun back into his hold and then reached for his back. His arm was up like he was stretching, but his hand quickly grasped the axe he attached to his back and brought it down so he could hold it in both his hands.

“I won’t regret this…at all.” He spat, bringing the axe up to his shoulder like he was about to swing a bat. Your eyes went wide and before you could say anything else, he swung. He swung right down to your neck.

You had heard alot about death. You had many ideas about it. You had heard it would be painful, you had heard it would be painless. You had heard you stayed conscious, you had heard it was over instantly. No matter what divine entity you did or didn’t believe in, it didn’t matter, death wasn’t the same for everyone. If you could still create thoughts after you died, yours would be praying this isn't what it was like for everyone who did. You didn’t want every kind soul to feel the red hot poker being pressed against your skin that was your death.

After the pain, there was silence. If you were able to think, you would be grateful for it. It would be comforting, calming to your soul to finally be at rest after an impossible amount of years without it. For once, your soul rested unbothered, ready to let go of the fraying rope that was your life.

Then you woke up.

The light was blinding, you would assume you were in heaven, but that would be entirely incorrect. Your ears rang with the most awful noise one could hear, an ear splitting ringing that would drive you insane if it was played for more than five minutes. What felt like a jolt of electricity slammed through your body like a hammer down on a nail. The blinding light disappeared as quick as a snap.

The first thing you noticed was the pain. It circled around all your main joints and connections between the body. Your wrists, knees, ankles, elbows, neck…everything ached. Then you felt the feeling of something pulling on all of your skin, like that time you received stitches in the webbing of your thumb, but everywhere else on your body that ached, along with across your face.

You tried to move your neck first, turn it and try to figure out where you were. The only thing you could see from your head being pointed directly up was a sort of dark blue hue that made the place seem depressing and creepy, like the only light was coming from the moon outside. You were able to move it, but it was stiff and harder than it would usually be. That was your first sign that something was off.

Your head looked down to inspect where you were, taking in the fact you were laying down on a cold metal table. You weren’t restrained or anything, but you were getting major creepy vibes. It felt cool on your back, it was clear that you probably hadn’t been laying there all that long, or the heat from your body would’ve warmed it up. Then you looked down at your hands as you tried to move them.

The stitches and ever so slightly discoloured skin was your second sign that something was off.

You sat up, your body rigid and hard like a doll being used for the first time. You weren’t in your normal clothes, just a simple robe that you’d wear in a hospital if surgery was performed on you, and by the looks of it, it had.

You were able to move your arm up and inspect it, cringing at the stitches and blood. Several questions ran through your mind, the main one being ‘How the hell am I alive?’ and the second being ‘What the hell happened to me?’ Everything hurts, especially your neck. Your bones felt like they had been removed and remoulded, it all felt too weird to you. Your skin didn’t feel like your own.

A cold and icy voice broke you out of your mesmerised trance of inspecting your body. It came from seemingly nowhere. It sounded…delighted. Your eyes flickered over to the shadows in the corner, one of them was moving towards you.

It was a man, probably around 6 feet with a stupid grin on his face. His skin was pale, paler than the moonlight shining in through the window above. He slowly walked over to you, hands behind his back like a villain.

“Finally…finally it fucking worked!” He grinned, shaking his head like he had seen something he couldn’t believe. You couldn’t blame him, what was happening was unbelievable. You quickly slid off the table, groaning as you moved for the first time in what would feel like to your body.

“What…the fuck did you do? W-What is this? What happened?!” You called out, your voice cracking as it was used for the first time in ages. You coughed, trying to make it not as itchy. It wasn’t working.

“Y/N…You’re still as animated as ever.” He grinned, gesturing to you and your stitched up body. You wanted to strangle him, clearly he had done something awful to you that you were going to get him to explain, regardless of whatever threats you had to make.

“Answer me right now you…you madman.” You hissed, walking towards him. Every step hurt, like it wasn’t meant to be taken. He smiled, taking a breath before speaking again.

“Y/N…Let me explain. Do you remember the night you went on the mission to kill my good friend Andrei Kowalski…do you remember being killed by your old friend Creeper? You should…you should remember being decapitated. Well…I was given your body…or what was left of it after Creeper chopped it up into a million pieces. Under strict orders from Andrei…to bring you back. So…I stitched you back up. Like you were my very own Frankenstien’s monster. The plan was to bring you back to life the same way Frankenstien had…and it worked.” The man smiled, seemingly okay with telling you his entire plan. You couldn’t decide whether he was stupid or just overly confident in himself that you wouldn’t escape and go find your team. “What now?” You asked, feeling the need to get into his head. After all, this man had literally just reanimated your dead body. He brought back a dead man and just stood there like an evil little Einstein.

“Now…I will bring you to him. So he can kill you over and over again…and you’ll come back every time.” He grinned and before you could react, he grabbed your hand and attempted to pull you closer to him in order to trap you. What he obviously didn’t anticipate was that your years of military training and work would stay with you and chime in when you needed it most.

You grabbed his arm, pulling him towards you and then placing your leg behind his so you could throw his balance off and keep him on the ground. You slammed him down and placed your foot on his chest, grabbing a metal rod just a few inches away from you and raising it high, just how Creeper had done.

“Y/N. Y/N WA-” He called out, extending a hand out to try and reason with you, but you brought it down on his head, instantly crushing his skull. You slammed it down over and over, making sure that if anyone even tried to bring this monster back from the dead, it would be impossible. You didn’t stop until you could see the brain sticking to the bat, that’s when you knew it was done.

You dropped the metal rod and stood there for a moment, huffing and puffing as you figured out what you had just done. You looked up from his body and to your horrible convenience, there was a mirror just in front of you. You stood in front of it, observing what you looked like.

There were clear and major differences that you could see so far. The first one being your eyes, they didn’t look the same as they had done before. One of them, the one on the left was a light yellow and the right one was a silver grey. It was creepy and inhuman, there was no pupil or iris either…just pure colour. You would question how you could still see, but you were too distracted by everything else and too high off of fear to question anything.

Your skin was neatly stitched together with a white thread, standing out against your skin tone. Most of the stitching wasn’t visible, but when it was it wasn’t too obvious, sort of the stitching you’d see on your friend’s hand when they’d get a deep cut or something. Just that, pulling your skin together. There was blood along most of the lines, the dried stuff was yours, the fresh belonged to Mr Crazy that you had never gotten the name of.

“Y/N?” A voice called out. Your eyes snapped over to the door in the corner or the room, the door was open. Standing in it, Valencia and the rest of your team. Valencia herself looked horrified as you stood over his dead body, his blood now mixing in with yours. The darkness in the lab made it look like you were a shadow, a ghost…a monster.

“Val-” You began, but were cut off by her running up to you and giving you a hug. You were caught off guard, she had never shown any affection to you, let alone physical. This was unlike her in so many ways.

“You idiot. We thought you died. We tracked your radio here but-” She spoke, cutting herself off as she made eye contact with you, or tried to. Your silver and yellow eyes had confused her, then she saw all the stitches. The one across your face concerned her the most.

“Y/N…what the hell happened to you?” She whispered, stepping back and raising her gun slightly. As the rest of the team looked over to you, they did the same. Placing their weapons in a hand that they’d be able to use in case you attacked them. You couldn’t explain yourself, you really couldn’t. Hell, even if you didn’t fully know what had happened to you, there was no way you could explain yourself.

“Captain…don’t…I-I’m not a threat.” You whispered, stepping forward and raising your hand. To your surprise, she took a further step back, some of the men even raised their shields. She clutched her gun, raising it further to her chest. That's when you realised, you were not a human to these people you called your friends…

You were a monster.

______________________

“Why’d you join the 141?”

“Huh?”

“Why’d you join us? You were a part of The Seekers, no? They’re a pretty elite team. Why’d you drop them for us?” Soap asked, shuffling a bit closer to you as you sat on the bench. It had been little over five months since you had joined the team and the connection between you and Soap had formed instantly. Unsurprisingly, the team members didn’t mind the fact your entire body was covered up. They had Ghost on the team, they weren’t going to judge you.

“Oh I…a mission went wrong. I didn’t feel like I could stay with them and neither did they.” You replied after a moment of thinking. For a minute, you had wanted to refrain from telling Soap the actual reason for it. Technically, it was the truth so that was going to lend a hand to your moral argument.

“Was it the same mission that…caused you to cover up?” He asked again. You thought about hitting him with the ‘that's enough’ that you had used before when he asked to see your face a while back, but you were close now. You felt he had a right to know now.

You gave a small nod, the glasses you wore over your balaclava covering your expression. You were glad he was respectful with his questions, never pushing you to answer anything you didn’t and never stepping over the line you had drawn. You didn’t want to get attached to this team as quickly as you had, but Mr MacTavish had broken down your walls quicker than you could put them up.

“C/N, Soap. We’re going to head out now, Gaz just got back with the all clear. Good to see you’re both in gear.” Ghost interrupted you two as he walked into the gear room. You were reminded that you were in fact, in the military and not some hangout session with Soap. You nodded, getting up and holding out your hand to pull the slightly shorter man up.

“Oooh, thank you M’lord.” He smiled as he took your hand, pulling himself up. You would roll your eyes if you could, so you just let out a small scoff. He chuckled as he walked with you to the deployment area, knowing they were in for a hell of a journey.

_____

“Y/N? You okay?” Soap’s voice cackled in over the radio as you made your way through the little abandoned city. The rest of the team were over in another section, leaving Soap and Gaz back at a small protected setup area. You were just so lucky to have Soap watching over you from the cameras that had been placed in all the buildings before it was abandoned. How your team had access to them, you had no clue. All you knew was that your man was here and you were to take him down.

“All good over here, Soap. Tell me if you see one of those fuckers hiding behind a corner.” You spoke back, pressing down on the radio with your gloved hand to respond to the man you were developing a small attraction to, whether you knew it or not.

“There’s a guy around the corner, knife him.” Soap informed you, shuffling from where he was laying in the safe room. You nodded, taking his advice and running round the corner, throwing and pinning the man to the wall, knifing the guy in the throat. You could practically hear the smirk in his tone when he came back.

“Nice kill. You should do that to me sometime.” He smirked, his Scottish accent only adding to his sassiness. You groaned at his painful attempt at flirting, firing back at him.

“You want me to kill you? Don’t worry, I'm already planning it.” You smiled, making your way through the destruction that was the ruined town of Norest.

“Do you have plans to kill every one of us?”

“Nope, just you.”

“I’m flattered. How’d ye do it?”

“If I tell you, I’d have to change my plan.”

“Fair play.” Soap smiled, checking the cameras to watch you move. He was so intrigued by you. He had never seen your face, never bothered to check your file. He respected you too much…along with the fact Gaz had caught him snooping around in the file area. But the respect came first.

Sometimes, he’d gaze at you and just wonder what it would be like to see what was under your gear. He wanted to see you, the real you. His sketchbooks were filled with a thousand pictures of what he imagined you looked like, each picture different from the last. Did you have bright blue eyes, ivory skin and wavy ginger hair, or did you have beautiful dark brown eyes, mahogany skin and medium length locs? Perhaps you had acne, perhaps you had a scar going across your left eyebrow. He didn’t have a clue what you looked like, but he knew you were handsome.

“MacTavish? Are you still with me?” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, not even realising he was kicking his feet like a schoolgirl (Gaz was utterly bewildered, but was unable to comment because he was actually doing his job and guiding his other teammates across the town in search of the man they had to find.) “Aye, I’m ‘ere.” “Good, thought I’d lost you. I need you to check around me. Pretty sure I heard our guy but I wanna make sure.” You told him, making sure to keep quiet. Your stitches were getting a bit itchy, but you could scratch them later when you were by yourself. It wouldn’t look natural for Soap to just see you scratch the middle of your face in a specific pattern and for him to not question it.

“Right, gimme a sec.”

There was a silence, what felt like an eternity of waiting before you got a response from the scott. It was like he was purposefully keeping you on your toes, wanting to see you squirm and hide for no apparent reason other than he was a chaotic man.

“Yeah, he’s there. I’ve informed Gaz and he’ll direct Ghost and Price over to you. He’s a few metres away, you could sneak up on him and take him down from behind.” Soap spoke, clearly moving as he did. He would be looking over at Gaz and getting his readings on Price and Ghost as he explained the situation to you.

You gave a nod, knowing he could see you. Peering round the corner, Soap wasn’t lying. The dark slicked back hair, tall physique and tanned skin let you know this was your guy. You slipped your hand into your

You ran up to the taller man, placing your gun to the back of his neck and kicking his knee so that he’d fall and you’d be able to kill him nice and swift with no hassle or fuss whatsoever. Unfortunately, the man had different plans.

He quickly turned around, grabbing your gun and throwing it to the side. You were unable to press down on the back of his knees, because he had turned around and was now facing you. You reached for your knife, but were stopped when you felt his foot on your chest. It took a second to register what was happening, but by the time it did you were shoved into an already cracked wall.

You took a moment, knowing you didn’t have one. You had most likely gotten a concussion from the hit, but you couldn’t focus on that now. Just as you were about to grab your gun which had been thrown aside, the man stopped you. He grabbed onto your mask, his nails digging in past the fabric and into the stitched skin below, and shoved your head down to the floor once more.

The screams of Soap came in through your radio, assorted word vomic that you couldn’t actually make out with everything spinning and your ears ringing. You’d hope he’d come to you and save you, but as soon as your mind stopped spinning, you realised you didn’t actually want him to save you. There was blood dripping and staining your mask. Your blood. It was an unnatural amount for something that shouldn’t have even drawn more than a drop of the red liquid, which could only mean one thing.

Your stitches ripped.

It seemed that your enemy had also been caught off by the amount of blood, giving you just a few seconds to grab the gun, aim it at his face and completely miss, hitting his shoulder instead. He grabbed it in pain and immediately resorted to grabbing out his own knife and stabbing it right into your stomach, ripping it through the skin and dragging a line down it. You cried in pain as your flesh was exposed and your stitches ripped, causing even further damage.

Why wasn’t he killing you? Why not put you out of your misery and shove that knife right into your face. Why make you suffer? There were so many questions and not enough time to answer them. Well, there was probably enough time, but that would require knowing what the actual fuck was going on.

“Y/N!” You breathed a sigh of relief as you heard the sound of your Captain running towards you, Ghost right behind. The unmistakable noise of a gunshot colliding with someone’s head put a smile on your face, watching as the man fell to the floor.

“Y/N, You alright?” Price asked, kneeling down beside you as you pushed yourself up against the wall. Your hand was on your chest, covering up any exposed skin or blood. You nodded, trying to pass it off as if you were just shaken up. You couldn’t let them see…you.

“Y/N! You idiot!” The familiar Scottish accent put a smile on your face, watching the Scottsman run towards you was a relieving sight at first…but then you remembered what happened.

“Y/N, you alright?”

“Don’t look.” “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“You won’t like what you see, just step away. All four of you.” “I have a right to know. Are you injured?”

“No-No just go.” “Y/N, Let me see-”

You would’ve liked to protest more, but you were losing too much blood to fight him. Soap had pulled your hands back, moving your shirt so he could see the heavy amount of blood loss. He looked up at your glasses, noticing the blood on your mask. He knew what he had to do, even if he didn’t like it.

When he removed your mask, your glasses came down with it. Gravity had decided to fuck you over more than you had already been fucked. There was a silence as the whole team looked over at you, the ripped stitching across your face…and your eyes. They were, if anything, the biggest indicator that something was different with you.

“S-Soap…” You began, but you couldn’t figure out how to finish what you were saying. You just wanted him to say something, say anything. Instead, he was just staring. You had no idea what he was thinking about, but you just knew he was horrified with you, along with the rest of the 141.

“Oh…oh Y/N…What…what the hell happened to you?” He whispered and to your surprise, he placed a hand on your bloodied cheek. He looked concerned…but he wasn’t scared of you like you’d expected. He got closer instead of backing away, that’s what made him different from your old team.

“Soap…I’m sorry for not telling you…or anyone else about…” You trailed off, using an arm to gesture to yourself. You had no idea what he was thinking about, you could only hope it was something good about you. He was clearly about to say something when Price butted in first.

“You two, we should go. We can all have a…chat after Y/N isn’t bleeding out infront of us.” Price’s rough British accent made him seem more serious in all situations he’s in. This one especially. Soap gave a nod and turned back to you, his eyes not full of fear or hatred…just sympathy.

_______ “Do you think I’m a freak, though?” You asked as Soap walked around your hospital bed. It had been a few days ever since the incident had happened. Soap kept a close eye on you and reported back on your condition to the rest of the team. When you had woken up, the questions were slow and boring…but now you were finally opening your walls and so was he.

“No…I don’t think you are. I mean-I’ve got no idea what exactly you are, but you’re not a freak. Just…different.” He responded, careful to not say anything that might upset you. You took note of this, feeling a bit hurt that he was censoring himself, but knowing why he was doing it helped a bit.

“You don’t have to filter yourself, John. Tell me…any questions that you have.” You practically begged him. The whole reason you covered yourself up was not to be seen as different, but now that it was useless, it was useless for Soap to cover his questions up. It took a while for him to gather up the courage to ask you something, but he did.

“What…what happened to you? I’m assuming you weren’t born like this.” He questioned, trying to add a little humour to the end of the message but failing miserably. You took a breath and told him everything. The mission, what death felt like, killing the man who brought you back to life, not belonging to your team anymore because of what had happened. By the end, you were sure Soap was tearing up. He was an emotional man, you couldn’t blame him.

“I…I’m gonna be honest, Y/N…that’s really fucking depressing.” He expressed, placing a hand on his mouth. You stared at him for a moment, his eyes staring back into yours. He was fascinated by you, what you looked like. He was sure he had a sketch in his book that looked exactly like you…minus the stitching and the eyes.

“The rest of the team…what do they think?” You asked, closing your eyes and looking up. You needed to know the reactions of everyone in the team, you couldn’t live with yourself not knowing their actual opinions on who and what you were.

“Ghost and Gaz are…surprisingly alright with it. Price was a bit shocked, he was only shown a photo of you before…all that happened. But mainly..they don’t mind. When you come back to active duty…I don’t think you’d need to cover up as much anymore. You still can, if you want. Not gonna force you.” Soap told you, sitting down next to your bed. You were grateful for him in times like these, where he reminded you that you were no longer alone. He was always there for you…you loved him for that.

You loved that he was kind to you.

You loved that Soap was so understanding and patient.

You loved…

You loved Soap.

“I will say though,” his words cut you out of your sudden very gay realisation, turning to face him as he sat next to your bed. “You are way more attractive than anything I could even imagine sketching up.” (Happy Halloween!)

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x male reader #john soap mactavish x male reader #writers on tumblr #Soap mactavish x male reader #soap x you #fanfiction #goretober #cw: gore #gore lover #angst #fluff #I am so gay for this man

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godesssiri · 1 year

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10 Thrifting tips the thrilling continuation

I am a dedicated thrifter and I have done a few thrifting tips posts, things to look for, how to find the best stuff. I had an excellent day thrifting today and decided it was a good day to polish up a draft I had and post it. So read more for tips to get the goodies.

If you buy fairly plain wooden furniture, it doesn’t take a whole lot of expertise to refinish it. You can get a cheap palm sander for less than 50 bucks, and a small tin of furniture wax goes a long, long, loooong way. Or you can get Danish oil if you want a satin finish or Teak oil for a gloss finish. Don’t let Youtube videos make you believe you have to test out 10 zillion different coloured stains unless you are aiming for a very specific look. Just make sure you slap something nourishing on the wood after you’ve sanded it. Also remember that whatever product you use; multiple light coats will come out better than one thick coat. There’s a huge amount of satisfaction in looking at a gorgeous chunk of wood you’ve bought back to life.

French milled/triple milled soap. Old ladies like to give soap as gifts and people tend to stick it in their drawer to scent their clothes and never actually use it, eventually they have a clean out and this unused soap goes to the thrift store still in it’s original paper wrapping. This soap is expensive. This soap is fantastic. The milling process creates a very different product than the bars you get at the supermarket. It doesn’t go goopy and melty even if you leave it sitting in a puddle in your shower, it’s not as drying to your skin, the scent stays on your skin for longer. These bars last for months, it’s well worth picking them up if you like the scent.

Blue Willow. Would you like to have a nice set of china but don’t want to drop a lot of money on something that might look dated in 10 years? Collect blue willow from thrift stores. Blue willow has been around for hundreds of years and it’s going to be around for hundreds more. It can be slotted in to almost any home style, classical, boho, maximalist, scandi, etc, etc. Because it’s been around for so long pretty much every manufacturer has done it, so you find it really often at thrift stores and it’s easy to pick up a couple of plates here and a serving bowl there. Also, because so many companies have done it over such a long period it’s possible to pick up modern dishwasher safe dinner plates that you can use alongside a lovely 100-year-old antique gravy boat.

Gifts. Never feel ashamed of buying gifts from thrift stores. The perfect vintage item is way more meaningful than any amount of new stuff. And if you’re buying for someone who doesn’t like vintage; if something looks new and undamaged how is the recipient going to know that it’s not new?

Get yourself a thrifting routine. You’re gonna find the best stuff if you go often so don’t just randomly go every now and then. People who say they never find anything are the ones who only call into a thrift store every couple of months and expect something amazing to just drop into their lap. Set a day once a week, or every other week or once a month, but make a commitment to go on a regular basis.

If you see something that you think you like but you’re not 100% sure, as long as you can afford it and have a place for it, get the thing. Take it home, live with it. Maybe you’ll decide you don’t really like it and take it back to the thrift store and consider the price you paid a charitable donation. But sometimes you bring something home that you kinda like and end up absolutely loving it. Some of my favourite things in my house are things I wasn’t completely sure about when I was in the thrift store. There’s nothing worse than the regret of leaving something behind because you weren’t sure about it, then deciding actually I do want that thing, but it’s gone, and you’ll never find another quite like it.

If possible, go with someone who knows your likes/tastes. It’s amazing the number of times I’ve been in a thrift store with my mother or best friend, and they’ve found something I love that I hadn’t even noticed. Plus they’ll be dirty rotten enablers and encourage you to buy the thing that you love but you’re not sure you can justify to yourself.

There are a bunch of Youtubers who do thrift flips. If there’s some décor item that’s in all the stores at the moment and you love it, but can’t justify spending money on it, then it might be worth looking up to see if anyone has done a thrift flip and can give you a tutorial on how to turn a thrifted item into the hot décor items of your dreams.

Keep the cycle going. If you have stuff in your home that you no longer use/love, then donate it. If you’ve traded up and found something better but your original thing still has life in it, donate. Even if you originally bought something from a thrift store no one is gonna be mad if you send it right on back (unless you’ve used it to death, and it really should be heading for landfill).

Don’t put yourself in a box. Don’t refuse to get something because it’s not ‘your style’. What is ‘your style’? Things that you love, that make you happy. Do you love this thing? Does it make you smile? Then it’s your style. Honestly style is something that evolves organically, that grows and expands as we’re exposed to new things. If you try to follow a certain style rigidly then you’ll end up with a home that looks boring and cookie-cutter. Throw in something unexpected that speaks to you. Then throw in another of those things and another and another and pretty soon you’ll end up with a home that actually is your style – maybe you just don’t know what your style really is yet. I think of myself as very confident in my style, but I’m constantly stumbling across new things that I didn’t know I needed in my life.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

#thrifting #thrift shopping #eco home #fuck capitalism #solarpunk #reduce reuse recycle #sustainability

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kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings · 10 months

Note

I’m but a simple human with nothing but gay thoughts! If possible I’m interested in what you think Mitsuri and Shinobu (separately) would be like with fem reader that has nipple piercings?

-Simple human!

Honestly women? Beautiful! Thank you for sending in your gay thoughts (＠＾▽＾＠) I'm always open for having more of 'em!

Alas I'm also queer - I'll leave my sexuality a mystery - so send me more queer/gay thoughts and requests whenever!

But anyway!

Thank you Simple human Anon for sending this in, I hope you don't mind me writing this in a bullet-point format for the headcanons + thoughts i have on this (ˊᗜˋﾉﾉ

I've also given you your own tag just incase you ever want to request again ☆ both as sh-anon and simple human anon.

Also I'll add abit more later when more stuff comes to mind (￣∀￣) which i hope you don't mind to much

Mitsuri Kanroji & Shinobu Kocho with a FEM! S/O with Nipple piercings - Headcanons:

I think that generically no matter what your appearance is - tall or short, chubby or thin, tattoos or not etc. - she'll absolutely adore you

In her eyes your perfect, even when you point out any flaws that you might have - or think you have - your still perfect in her eyes

Mitsuri loves all of you

That being said, Mitsuri is not prepared for your piercings

She goes beetroot red whenever you flash her your piercings, her voice catches in her throat and she starts stuttering out praises and noises of appreciation

She does tear up slightly cause she's kinda embarrassed how much you affect her - especially at the heat that curls in her tummy when she gets to feel and see your breasts + piercings

She's in awe of how beautiful you are and does get abit carried away with her groping

Doesn't matter what type of nipple jewelry you wear, she always see's beauty in it and it doesn't even matter if its as simple as a normal straight or curved barbell

Although she does like intricate, delicate or jeweled jewelry

Always makes sure that there's clothing that's airy for your piercings as she worries about you accidentally catching them on heavy or scratchy cloth

Gets matching piercings

You do have to help her the first couple of weeks in looking after them, especially with making sure the piercings don't heal to the metal of the nipple-ring

Absolutely loves them

Shinobu just gives me the vibes of someone who likes nipple piercings?? If that makes sense?

Like she finds them pretty and artistic

The piercings accentuate your breasts nicely and honestly her eyes are always drawn to them whenever your changing

She's a simple gal who's in love with you so obviously her eyes go to you - breathe catching in her chest as she blushes

Absolutely goes ape when you surprise her with beautifully intricate nipple shields that are in the shape of butterflies

Oh! Or pretty dangly ones

Cause she's a woman of medicine - and poisons which she'd never use on you of course - she helps look after your piercings (with your consent) and jewelry

Shinobu makes soft soaps so it doesn't irritate your skin when you have to wash your piercings + jewelry

And makes sure that the softest towels are ready for you to pat dry

While she loves your piercings shinobu's not confident enough to get nipple piercings herself, so she'll remain admiring you with yours

Will buy you pretty nipple rings that she thinks will suit you especially ones that only she's gonna be able to see

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cl00udyyanan · 1 year

Text

the scent of an angel

synopsis: genshin men are obsessed with how you smell after a warm bath

warnings: slightly suggestive but oua bit so minors dni, xiao is slightly possessive and spoilers for kaeyas background story

characters: diluc, xiao, kaeya

authors note: this was on my mind for a while and i didn't write it until like 6 am i have plans with friends today and haven't gotten any sleep but i kinda like how this came out so pls

if you like this send a request for possible characters or send a different ask!

⊱ ───── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.}───── ⊰

the darknight returned from his duties, battered and exhausted as every routine. it was normal for diluc to come home late, he insisted that you shouldn't stay up waiting for him after coming home to you collapsed on the sofa of the winery thinking he'd be back soon enough for you to greet him. seeing your face after he was finished with his work was a nice thought but he'd be selfish to keep your from the comfort of your shared bed. you had already made your nightly routine with a warm bath, vanilla and almond scented soap latherd over your skin and in your hair. it was your favorite as diluc gave it too you as gift. you headed to your bedroom, sleeping softly as you waited for you lover to return to you. the red haired man shredded off his coat and boots. he truged upstairs through the main stair case, slowly as he ascended he thought about you whilst unbuttoning his dress shirt. another night you slept alone without him, he pouted. he wish he could spend these nights with you, holding you as you slept, admiring your tenderness. those nights would have to wait. diluc would make his way to your bed, gently placing himself around your sleeping form. once he settled was when he got a whiff of you. the sweet vanilla echanted his senses, lulling him closer into you, oh he'd hate to get his grim over your soft and cleanself. he was not a selfish man, but maybe he could be this one time. he engulfed you in his arms, spooning you from behind. your loose sleep wear exposed your shoulder where diluc placed his chin, resting against his sweet partner, taking in all that was good about you. you were so soft against his rough skin he felt he would almost tarnish you. lest he put his insecurity aside he enjoyed this peace. you against him in the quiet of his treasured home. he'd fight every hillichurl, abyss mage and fatui harbinger if it meant you would rest peacfully with him.

xiao is a prideful man. he didn't endulge in small luxuries like fancy clothes, scented suds or extravagent jewlery. adepti have no need for such distractions, all those things were fantasies created by humans to feel special; he would say. you'd have to disagree with him on his stance, as every night when you decide to use the qinxin flower scented body soap xiao had hand made for uou, he can't help but cuddle your body as if you'd slip away. your scent was intoxicating, making xiao feel all his sins were cleansed like he was being blessed with your baby like skin and floral smell. what if other humans or adepti caught hint of your alluring aroma? he'd hold you closest as you two were intertwined in one of the bedrooms of wangshuu inn. it was hardly past evening, there were actually a few guest down still eatiing. you had planned to join them after your bath but were swiftly distracted by your possesive lover. "its dangerous to be out this late, you should come to our room..." he mumbled, gripping your hand tightly, you caught his cheeks were painted a pink tint and his amber eyes avoided yours. "xiao, the sun still is risen." you retorted lightly, already having caught onto his excusrs. xiao shook his head, "...so.. who cares just come to bed,,," he tugged your hand, taking a few steps forward, you let out a deep sigh and allowed him to guide you to yours room. there he wasted no time placing you on your spot under the white sheets, he walked around the other side of the bed and hopped in, curling into you as you craddled him. he seldom slept, either his dreams were too frightening or because he was not a human being it made, when he did lay next to you he opted to simply close his eyes and take in everything he could feel. he felt your fragile arms wrapped around him, your qinxin soap wafting off of you, your heart beating in your chest. it all brought him into a sort of autopilot mode. or maybe a dream, he seldom had nicr dreams but all of them consisted of you intertwined with him.

oh he was a sucker for you, especially when you smelled so sweet. it was a sailor to a sirens call and kaeya was going to fall deep for you. the aroma of your strawberry shampoo put him in a trance as he gingerly walked to you. you were dressed in your sleep wear, rolling the covers back ready to get in when yous topped suddenly. "...what are you doing?" you asked as kaeya placed his hands on your shoulders. he chuckled gruffly and kissed your neck, you tingled and laxed into his chest as he wrapped you. "loving you." he answered. you had something witty you wanted to say but held your tongue. it was rare kaeya was truly at peace, but with you in his arms, he could pretend everything was okay. pretend his past wasn't creeping up on him day after day, the one mission his life was meant for by his biological father. he could pretend he wasn't going to destroy monstadt tomorrow night. your home and the only home you've ever known. he could pretend he wouldn't ruin the life he fabricated for himself and the love that was ever so real to you, but was ever so temporary for him. just this moment with you languished in the sheets with im, gentle kisses littering your skin and hushed moans exchanged, could he take in your alluring strawberry fragrance and love it like he never has before. "i love you...." "i love you so much" "you smell so sweet for me baby" words that were so real for such an unreal realtionship. how could he love you like this when he'd soon ruin everything that you knew, he was a selfish man. yet with you tangled in him and your fruity savor enticing him. he'd enjoy his last moment with you. your taste forever on his tongue so soon before he'd demolish you completely.

⊱ ───── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.}───── ⊰

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mrzombielover · 11 months

Note

I’m begging for more alphabets yours are so good!! I’m still laughing at Soap being the “I’m in my girls ear like” meme

thank you anon im glad you enjoy them :)

here’s a gaz nsfw alphabet because i love him so very much and he is incredibly underrated (implied f reader)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

gives amazing aftercare, doesn’t hesitate to start cleaning you up, then he’ll jump right back in with you to cuddle

on the quieter side. not in a bad way, he still enjoys pillow talk but would prefer to listen to you ramble and occasionally add or react. likes holding you against his chest and absentmindedly tracing over your skin, placing kisses on your head or shoulder once in a while

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

pretty indifferent about himself, does like his chest and shoulders cause buff💪💪 military, also likes his back for the gains and goes crazy for love scratches down his biceps and back

on you? your eyes. classic and cheesy but he loves them and staring into them. LOVES when you two can have silent conversations and he can tell what you’re thinking just from the expression in your eyes

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

i imagine he eats a pretty balanced diet and he’s generally a healthy guy, so it tastes fine. cums a normal amount, too.

he is not tryna have kids right now so he always pulls out before he cums and he looovessss seeing it all over you, almost better than he likes cumming inside you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

likes watching/hearing you get aggressive and tell people off it gets him going. this isn’t that dirty but he would be embarrassed if you found out. one time while decently drunk you yelled at a girl that wouldn’t stop hitting on him and he was smiling the rest of the night. also likes when you’re protective of him. again he’s a bit embarrassed about it

since neither of these are dirty you get 2 secrets to make up for it lolol

he has a bunch of pictures of you that you don’t know about. like, a TON. candids and stuff that you would hate but he thinks you look nice in. also some dirty ones like he took while you were passed out after sex, not necessarily sexual but intimate in a way that you would murder him if he ever showed someone.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s not inexperienced, but he’s not really fucking a lot per se, like he’s not a big fan of one night stands so majority of his experience is with old partners.

he knows what he’s doing though. it takes a bit for him to learn exactly how you like it but after a few times he knows exactly how to make you melt

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he likes any position where you’re in his lap, loves the intimacy and it kinda makes him feel stronger/bigger in a way lol

he also likes experimenting with positions though which sometimes ends up with both of you crumpled and laughing because you lost balance or his leg gave out or smth

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he can be a tad silly as a treat…. similarly to how he likes to tease he also likes banter and is not opposed to a bit of joking around during the moment

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

his hairs curly so it doesn’t exactly get very long, but he keeps it trimmed close anyway. he is very clean and neat i will die on this hill

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he can be super cheesy when he wants to be, but with the kind of confidence that he can somehow pull it off like he’s corny but lovable. and likes to spoil you so sometimes he really pulls out all the stops to give you a romantic surprise

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

another thing he’s a bit embarrassed about but he does it quite frequently when you guys are separated.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

light bondage!!! like handcuffs drive him crazy he loves to see you squirm and reach to touch him but be physically held back. blindfolds too

temperature play is another good one, goes insane when ice is used on either of you.

food play too, he accidentally pavlov’d himself tho and now cannot eat whipped cream without getting hard

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

all the classic places ofc your bed is the most common, he likes the shower too but i think the couch is his ultimate fav

cause he likes to experiment with different positions the couch allows for a bit more weird leeway going on, like the handles and stuff

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

like i said before it totally gets him going to see you yell at someone for some reason. loves a scrappy girl LMAO i’m projecting

would separate you if you ever actually got in a fight to prevent you from being hurt but there would def be a moment where he’s conflicted

also kinda weird but your scent. smth sciencey abt pheromones probably…. he goes crazy when he can smell traces of you on his sheets or on a shirt and loves to smell your hair as he’s falling asleep

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anal stuff kinda freaks him out wouldn’t want you to touch his ass 💀💀💀 if you’re really insistent maybe for your birthday or smth but not ideal for him

something he absolutely would never do would be any like dark hard kinks, the idea of cnc or abuse or humiliation makes him go soft

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

so weak to blowjobs. loves giving, too, ofc but you can get him to do pretty much anything if you give him head. he doesn’t wanna like guilt you into giving it, it’s much sexier to him when it’s your idea

ok back to giving he loves it fs! sex is 50/50 to him and he loves pleasing

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

not that he goes slow, but tends to be on the softer side. v much prefers sensual sex, and hates feeling rushed

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

they have their time and place, but generally, he doesn’t prefer them. usually thinks it’s not worth the mess and clean up. does like the idea of picking up where you left off later, and you having to sit through the rest of work with ruined underwear.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

the idea makes him a bit nervous which makes him excited. probably wouldn’t initiate risky public stuff but also wouldn’t say no

with kinks, he’s pretty open, mostly just to make you happy. not unwilling to sub but prefers control. again he’ll try some stuff but isn’t really into heavy dom/dub dynamics or bdsm

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

quite a few depending on the night, but he does need a little break inbetween rounds he’s not superhuman lol. but usually y’all go 2-3 rounds if you don’t have some kinda time crunch

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i feel like he would enjoy using them on his partner, he’d looove to see the effect they have on you, especially a vibrator. is a bit shy about them being used on himself. not that he’d never let you use them on him, just maybe not all the time. like if he was in a particularly submissive mood he’d be game. uses them on you more often, see also in combination w blindfolding

also kinda related i feel like when he was a teenager his friends got him a fleshlight as a joke and he was too embarrassed to ever use it so he just kept it hidden in his sock drawer or something, and one time his mom found it and yelled at him. he was mortified and his friends never stopped making fun of him for it

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he can be a SMUG mf, likes to tease n make fun of you. it’s all light hearted, of course, but sometimes he’s so mean!!! totally unfair

he’s a good sport when you tease him, though. doesn’t let it bother him so much cause he knows he’ll make you pay for it, later

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

a little quieter but not silent, wouldn’t outright moan but he does grunt and whimper, voice getting shakier when he gets closer to cumming. lots of heavy, desperate breathing too, right in your ear. likes being quieter so he can hear the noises YOU make it drives him crazy

likes dirty talking a lot, too. like i said before, he can be a mean smug mf sometimes, which deffff transfers into his dirty talk. he lives for when you get so cockdrunk you can’t even respond to his questions as he teases you

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he has the HOTTEST VOICE EVER OMG IDK something about his accent and tone just DOES it for me fuck. anyway he’d be happy to indulge whatever voice kink you may have i need to hear him whimper bro

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

on the larger side, like 6.5 fully hard, and very very pretty. probably cut?

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

it’s pretty average for a young in shape high-testosterone guy. he won’t be like begging you 24/7 but like 90% of the time he’s ready whenever you are. gets intensely horny when drunk or high tho LOL so that’s when he’ll be more forward

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

would be fine not going to sleep, like he could get up and be functional, but he really does like holding you after and slowly drifting off. might take a little bit but he’s so comfortable he wouldn’t trade it for anything

#gaz is literally the most normal dude that i like/post abt #oh my god i need him so bad you guys #also sorry i disappeared for a while anyway i’m writing again!!#kyle gaz garrick #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #!my stuff #!headcanons #!not sfw #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #also his name is kyle LMFAOOOO #implied female reader #wrote some of this while high srry #if it makes no sense

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 10 months

Note

Hello!! I was wondering if I could sum it a request for the 1000 followers celebration post?!

It would be Mr. Opie Winston. And the prompt “you’re covered in motor oil, it’s kinda hot” with some good ol’ smut please and thank you?

Masterlist

Good Honest Work

Contains: Fluff, smut.

1.1K words

The average shower lasts about eight minutes and the average shower head has a water flow of 2.1 gallons per minute.

The sound of the Jazz playing in the kitchen as you cleaned somehow matched perfectly with the way the noise of Opie's power tools floated in from the garage.

He had been in there working on that old bike for weeks, his hands growing more calloused as time passed and you could see the pride written on his face as it came together.

The sound of the door opening pulled you away from the crumbs in the fridge, "Can you grab me a beer?"

You reached to the top shelf and spun around as you passed the beer to Opie, "How did you do today?"

He nodded, "Great, it's coming together really well."

You sighed as you took in his appearance, "I'm working hard to keep the house clean and you're dragging garage junk inside."

He looked over himself and frowned, "I can go change if you want?"

You nodded, "I mean, you're covered in motor oil, it's kinda hot but yes please." You held up a finger as an idea occurred to you, "I'm almost done here anyway. Let me finish wiping out the fridge and then we can shower together?"

He flopped down and the chair and sipped his beer, "Sure, can I help?"

You shook your head, "No, you're messy."

He chuckled, "You love it."

"Yes I do, but don't you dare spread your mess anymore. In fact, the prospect better be down here to make that garage spotless when you're done with that bike. I don't want to get motor oil all over me when I go in there for light blubs of some shit like that." If you knew Opie at all, it would be clean anyway.

Opie smiled slightly and gave you a nod, "Yes ma'am."

It only took a few more moments for Opie to finish his beer and you to finish the fridge. He placed his hand on your lower back as you made your way to the bathroom. You stopped in the middle of the room to strip him of his dirty clothes and Opie did the same for you, his hand drifting over your skin as he went.

You took his hand, walked him into the shower and made sure the water was perfect. Opie climbed in after you and you picked up the fancy olive oil soap and started by washing the motor oil off his hands and arms. You moved to his chest next and Opie's eyes closed as you gently scratched his skin.

He stopped you, taking your hands in his before spinning you around, grabbing your loofa and taking to soap off you, "It's no fun if you get don't get soapy too."

You sighed, "Yes, you're right." His fingers dug into your flesh as he rubbed out the knots in your muscles, "Oh boy that feels nice."

Opie chuckled, "I bet it does." He picked up the shower head and washed the lather off your back, "Turn around."

You did as he asked and a smile grew on his face as he suds up your breasts, "Did you just offer so you could touch my tits?"

He shook his head, "That wasn't the only reason."

He was half hard when you looked down and you met his eyes with a smirk, "Why don't we finish up here and pick it up where we won't end up with a head injury?"

Opie nodded, "Sure." The rest of the shower went by in a flash and then you stepped out as Opie wrapped a towel around your body.

Once you were both dry, Opie took your towels to the hamper and dropped them in before talking back towards you, "Have I told your you're pretty today?"

You nodded, "Yes, when we got up this morning, my hair was a mess and I had goop in my eye."

He stroked your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you, "Well I'm going to tell you again, you're very pretty." You craned your head and his lips met yours as he walked you towards the bed and Opie pulled back and licked his lips, "Let me show you."

You fell back on the bed and shifted your way up onto the pillows as Opie's lips met your neck, his bread scratched your skin as he kissed his way down your body, stopping to lick your nipples on his journey.

Opie lifted your legs over his substantial shoulders and pressed his lips to your inner thigh as he kissed his way towards your core. His lips were gentle as he kissed your slit and he groaned as as your hips twitched when he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit and back again.

You woved your hands into his hair and held him to your body as he moved one of his huge hands from your beasts to your entrance. His lips sealed around your clit as he slid two fingers inside you. He went slow as first, his fingertips searching until your breath caught in your throat, "Found it."

"It's in the same place it's always been Ope." He didn't give you the chance to quip further as he stroked your G-spot and used his free hand to pull you so close you wondered how he could breathe.

You started to flutter around him and Opie doubled down, pressing your G-spot firmly as his plump lips worked in your clit. His free hand moved from your thigh to over your hips to hold you down as you reached the edge and with one last brush of his fingers, you were clenching around them while you moaned out his name in an almost pained whimper.

You let out a shuddering breath as Opie pulled his fingers away then he was kissing back up your body to your mouth. His hand was gentle on your cheek as he kissed you and you could taste yourself on his lips as he deepened the kiss.

When you went to reach down Opie's body to grab his hard cock he stopped you with a head shake, "Hey, I didn't to do it because I wanted anything back. You've been working on the house all day, I did it to say thank you for how wonderful you've been."

You nodded softly, "Ok, thank you."

Opie smiled and brushed your nose with his as he pulled you into his arms, "How about we have a nap then I'll take us out from dinner?"

"That sounds really nice." His arms were so warm.

Opie sighed and pressed his lips to your temple, "I love you y/n."

You returned the gesture, then nestled into his strong arms, "I love you too Ope."

Fin

#opie winston #opie winston fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fluff #smacro #opie winston x reader #opie winston x you #opie winston fanfic #ryan hurst

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mrvlbimbo · 1 year

Text

Lust at first sight, or whatever they call it these days

a/n: heheh finally throwing my hat into the ring of Ghost fanfics, wish me luck!

content: Angst, sexual tension (like lots of it), male masturbation, emotional baggage, fake relationship (kinda), forced proximity, coworkers to lovers, so so much crying, happy ending!

7.7k words

ALSO my requests are SO TOTALLY open for Ghost requests If y'all have any of those for me (PLEASE IM BEGGING)

The first time he met her, Ghost thought he was dreaming or maybe that he had died and gone to heaven. Because she looked like an angel and for some reason she was standing right in front of him in one of the least hospitable places he could imagine.

She looked entirely out of her element, a head shorter than most of the men surrounding her and a small gentle grin gracing her face. She had a young look about her, probably mid 20s based on the roundness of her face. The first thing he noticed about her was how she made him feel, an instant wave of anxiety crept over him. She shouldn't be here, he thought.

She was notably devoid of the hard lines of muscle he would expect for someone in their line of work. She was all gentle curves laid over a small body negligently lacking strength. She looked soft, he wanted to see if she was.

He was almost shocked by how much he wanted her, not having felt so strongly in as long as he could remember. It was as if he was pulled by a magnet, he started walking over to her desk. He was of course outpaced by another member of his team, John MacTavish aka Soap, who had already arrived next to her with a larger than life grin on his face.

Jealousy burned under his skin when he saw her giggle at one of his squad member’s jokes.

He moved quickly and silently, standing beside the two of them before they even saw him. “Who is this?” he grumbled, coming off more aggressive than he would have liked to. He winced when her lovely smile turned down into a confused pout as she turned her attention to him.

“Intelligence,” she answered quickly, looking down at the ground instead of meeting his intense stare. He was used to it, the mask made only his intense eyes visible. Most people tried to avoid eye contact with him when they could.

“We can always use more of that.” He tried to elicit a laugh from her like Soap had managed to but he only came up with an awkward chuckle, it was an angelic sound nonetheless. No one else seemed to notice it, but the way he stuck his arm out to shake her hand felt fumbling and unnatural.

He took her small warm hand into his own gloved one, just barely able to feel the heat emanating from her touch. Against his better judgment, he ached to feel her soft skin against his. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

He cursed himself for the way he all but shivered when she addressed him with such timid respect. She wasn’t quite shy, just a bit new to things. Her eyes were wide, darting around to take in the new atmosphere.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to linger by her desk all day, coming up with excuse after excuse to keep himself in her company or if he wanted to all but sprint out of there and put as much space between them as possible so he could maybe get his breathing and heart rate back to normal.

When he got back to his bunk that night he was deathly quiet as he furiously shucked his pants and boxers down so he could finally pay some attention to his aching hard cock. He felt only the slightest tinge of guilt as he slowly stroked himself to the thought of her soft smile and how her laugh sounded.

He also thought of less innocent things, like how it would feel to press himself into every inch of her soft body. He imagined it was her much smaller hands gliding up and down his length, he knew they’d barely wrap around the girth of him and he shuddered and came at the thought.

That wasn't the last time he touched himself to the thought of her, it was just the first of many times. By the time he saw her again, it was almost a nightly occurrence. Seeing her in person was so different than the fleeting glimpses he saw of her in his mind, and so much better. Or worse, depending how you look at it.

Because he was down bad, and it was painfully obvious. She made him stutter, like actually stutter. His first embarrassing misstep was on comms for the whole team to hear.

“Ghost, is the room clear?” her voice was still soft over the garbled mess that was the comm system. He liked the way she said his name, even if it wasn’t his real name. He liked to imagine what she would sound like saying his real name, maybe in a different context.

“A-affirmative.” The room was clear, there was no doubt about it. He was just caught off guard by thoughts of her and it made him falter, something that Soap probably wouldn't let him forget until the end of time.

“What was that, sir?” He wanted to scream in frustration, his mistake being called out so boldly. But he couldn't seem to be even the slightest bit mad at her, she didn't mean anything by it, she was just trying to do her job. Such a good girl, he thought.

“Affirmative,” he repeated, hanging his head in shame even though there was no one else in the room to see him.

“He's blushing under that mask right now. I just know it.” Soap quipped, making the most of the situation for his own comedic purposes. If he knew the full extent of Ghost’s little crush, he would lay into him even harder.

He avoided conversation on the way back and all the way into the briefing room, he wasn't in the mood. Not that he ever really was in the mood.

She sat next to him during the debriefing, her knee accidentally sliding against his on more than one occasion made his breath catch in his chest everytime. She was wearing a gray skirt that rode up to expose all the way to the very tops of her thighs and a low cut pink blouse, it was like she was torturing him with the broad stretch of skin she was showing. His fingers splayed over his own thigh twitched with the urge to reach for her, place his large palm over the expanse of her squished together thighs and maybe even between them-

He stopped that thought before it could get away from him. Or more accurately he was pulled back to reality by a finger gently tapping on the back of his gloved hand. Out of instinct, he grabbed the hand, turning with a glare to the person beside him until he remembered it was her.

Her wrist lay limp in his hand, glossy lips hung open gaping at him as she waited for him to say something. Her eyes were wide like a deer in the headlights. He glanced at the contours of her hand, soft delicate fingers tipped with a jelly pink colored manicure.

“Sorry,” she all but whimpered, cringing away from his deadly stare. “Uh. Meetings over, by the way.” She offered a weak, unsure smile. He wasn't satisfied, it had been weeks since the first time he saw her and he was determined to see her real smile again. He needed it.

“Thanks.” He searched for something clever to say, something that would make her smile or maybe even laugh if he was lucky. “Your uh…nails are nice.”

“Oh yeah?” she giggled, her manicured finger tracing the bumps of his knuckles over the fabric of his thick gloves. Still, just like the first time she touched him, he could feel the warmth of her through the layers and it was intoxicating.

And just like that he was hard. She barely touched him and he was itching to get out of his pants. He needed to get under control, like now. But then her hand trailed its way up his arm and he about jumped five feet in the air. “You’re so tense, sugar.”

The name came out of her mouth so naturally that he assumed she used it with everyone. That forethought didn't help his body’s reaction to her, cock twitching at the pet name. He felt like a teenager, worse he felt like a virgin.

“Comes with the job,” he grumbled. That was half true, his job did cause tension but her sweet vanilla perfume pouring into his senses also caused tension. Of a different sort, a much more pressing sort.

“Oh you poor thing. I bet it's so stressful,” she cooed. If it was anyone else he would assume he was being mocked, but not her. She was genuine, wordlessly standing up and moving behind him. Her nimble fingers worked into the sore muscles of his shoulders. He just about melted right then and there.

“OooOh.” He tried to cover up the obvious moan as a sound of surprise but it was suspicious at best. She seemed understanding even if she noticed. “You don't have to.”

“Let me take care of my boys, yeah?” she lowered her voice, practically whispering in his ear as her thumb rubbed absentmindedly at the exposed skin at the bottom of his neck. He liked the idea of being her boy a lot, he didn't like the idea of being ‘one of her boys’ quite as much.

“You do this for all the guys on the team?” he asked with just a bit too much sincerity for it to be a joke anymore. He felt weird and gross about it, but he didn't want her doing this with any of the other guys. Especially if they would have the same reaction he was having now. Come to think of it, he doesn't like the idea of anyone thinking of her the way he does. Mostly because the way he thinks about her is downright perverted.

“If they need it. And you certainly do.” If he didn't know any better he’d think she was flirting with him. But he does know better. He knows enough about her to know she's just nice. She's just nice and kind and gentle and sweet and caring and pretty and-

He needed to stop. Like he really needed to stop. He was close to cumming in his pants from the gentle kneading of her fingers and her soft humming.

Maybe it was a curse, maybe it was a blessing. Or a little bit of both, but these after-mission massages became a schedule for them. He’d sit there, his shoulder’s ‘temptingly tense’ as she would always say. Once everyone else excused themselves she stood behind him and talked to him about his day while easing the knots out of his rippling muscles.

He got used to her touching him. Somewhat. After a while in their routine he was able to be in the same room as her without popping a boner, so that had to be some type of improvement.

Things were going well.

Until things went to shit.

The team was sitting around a table, screens in the room were lit with sprawling words detailing the mission. “You’re going deep cover. For a while,” Price announced, no use in beating around the bush. There had been a data leak and they were all compromised, they needed to disappear for a while. Live as civilians until things die down, who knows how long that could be.

Ghost just grumbled, per usual, sneaking a glance to the side to see how a certain someone was taking the news.

She was not taking it well.

His heart tensed when salty tears started to bead in her eyes and roll down her round cheeks. Despite the way her precious little face scrunched up in pain, he couldn't help thinking the slight blush dusting her face was just angelic.

The men in the room started to vacate, moving outside to discuss the terms of their new identities. Ghost stayed, he had to. He couldn't just leave her like this. He stood abruptly, pulling her out of her seat and into his arms the best he could.

It wasn't an embrace so much as he was holding her out in front of him like a ragdoll. She seemed comforted by it nonetheless.

Her fingers were limply tangled in the fabric of his sleeves, tugging at them frantically as she sobbed. He thinks it's probably ill advised for her to trust him enough to break down in front of him like this, but that doesn't matter because she trusts him.

“What's wrong?” he asked as gently as he could, which was still firm and commanding.

“I'm scared,” she whimpered, head dropping forward and just barely brushing his chest through his uniform. He fought the urge to wrap himself around her, crushing her to his chest fiercely, and never let her go. Sobs wracked her frame but his strong arms held her steady.

“You trust me?” somewhere in the blur of things he had taken his gloves off, bare hands coming up to cradle her jaw and tilt her head up to look at him. He could feel the way her body gave into his manhandling, muscles untensing so he could move her as he pleased.

“Yes sir.” She nodded as much as she could with his firm grip on her chin. Big doe eyes peering up into his, wet with tears and shiny in a way he couldn't begin to describe.

“Good girl,” he practically purred, fighting every urge to lean down just a bit and press his lips to her forehead. If he wasn't wearing a mask perhaps he would have. But he thinks if he kissed her forehead he would kiss her cheek next and before he knew it he’d be entrapped by her soft lips. “Stay here. I’ll figure it out,” he whispered.

He practically stomped out of the room, charging over to the group of men to give them a piece of his mind. “Look, Price. I know what we all signed up for, but you’ve seen her. You can't just send her out there alone, what if they find her?” He pleaded, thinking of her all on her own in danger made his heart squeeze in his chest.

“Well good thing she won't be alone. You’re going undercover together,” the other man corrected quickly.

Ghost freezed up at that realization. Sure, he knew she’d be safest with him but she’d also be a distraction. He was barely functioning around her as it was, seeing her briefly after missions. He didn't think he’d be able to handle living with her for one day.

Anything was better than her being alone. If he had to suffer the unrelenting (onesided) sexual tension for the rest of his life, that would be ok as long as she was safe.

--------------

Things moved fast after that, as soon as they were briefed on their new identities there were planes ready to take them away. There wasn't time to pack anything but the clothes on their back, hastily getting out of town before things went to shit.

The next time she saw him he was in civilian clothes, a stark contrast to how she usually saw him. Heavily armed and covered head to toe. He looked different, but it was undeniably him. She could tell by the way he stood.

He was tall, she already knew that. No amount of tactical gear could hide his hulking frame. But somehow the lack of equipment made him look bigger if that was possible, the natural muscle of him finally able to show through the shirt he had tight over his broad chest.

He was handsome too, she hadn’t expected that. She expected his face to be like everything about him, quiet and plain, a bit awkward if she was being honest. He was anything but plain, the strong contours of his jaw and cheeks were something she wanted to examine further. She would have plenty of time for that in the coming months.

She was quieter than usual, that was the first thing he noticed. She seemed timid, smaller if that was possible. She was scared, that much was obvious.

All he could offer her was slipping her hand in his, giving a gentle squeeze that brought a small but sincere smile to her face. He wanted to kiss the worry lines off her pouting face, soothe her furrowed brow, and bring back her bubbly grin. But he would settle for a weak smile if it meant she was feeling just a little bit better.

The house was fully stocked with anything they would need, clothes picked out meticulously to fit their new identities and a fridge full of food that needed to be restocked about once or twice a month. Only one bedroom was fit to live in, they were meant to be a married couple after all.

When they first arrived there was a long stretch of time where they sat at the kitchen table, staring across at each other in disbelief. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, curling in on herself, shrinking away from the man across from her.

“Come ‘ere,” he grumbled, not moving from his seat. She stood hesitantly and walked over to him. “We’re gonna be ok.” He took her hands in his and she visibly softened.

Before they left, they had changed into clothes that suited their new identity. For her this meant a delicate sundress, the flowy material wasn’t even halfway down to her knees, it made him sick to think any other man got to see this much of her.

Her standing barefoot in the kitchen of their new home, staring down at him with nothing but trust was a sight to behold. He almost forgot why they were here in the first place. He had half the mind to grab her by the hips and hoist her up onto the counter, spend the day between her supple thighs. He might as well, it's not like they had much else to do.

Her voice shook him out of his fantasy and back into reality. “What do you want for dinner?” she asked.

“Anything is fine.” He nodded, trying with great difficulty to soften his features.

“What do you want?” she repeated, a gentle hand coming out to caress his face without thinking. She was touchy, even more so now that they knew each other better. He wasn't sure if he liked it, he wasn't sure if he was allowed to.

You, he thought. Not able to put it into words despite how much he desperately did want her. Another person hadn’t touched his face in god knows how long. As for the last time someone touched him this delicately, he didn't think anyone ever had.

He shifted away from her touch, grumbling something noncommittal. She sighed and sulked over to the fridge, picking through the contents unenthusiastically to find something to eat. “Does lasagna sound good?” she spoke up after a while, a hopeful look in her eyes as she looked to him for an answer.

She looked so good like that, so passive and willing. He could tell, by the way she hung off his every word that she was waiting for his approval. He gritted his teeth, almost grinning if that was even possible. “That's fine,” he grunted, standing up from his seat abruptly and leaving to unpack his few items into an empty room.

He sat down on the carpet floor, staring ahead at the wall and cursing himself for being such an idiot. Sure, he didn't need to get too close to her. But that didn't mean he had to be an asshole. The way her lips dropped into a pitiful little frown when he rebuffed her affection made him sick to his stomach.

--------------

He didn't sleep with her, not that she expected him to. She wasn't sure if he ever slept. Seeing as he was already waiting in the kitchen when she woke, she didn't think that he had caught a wink of sleep.

He had never seen her in this state of undress, soft cotton shorts and a thin tank top were the only clothing gracing her frame. Her face was soft with sleep, puffy and slightly flushed. She smiled gently, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

Of course that was the first thing she asked, always wanting to take care of him. Her sweet morning voice just about knocked him over. If he closed his eyes he could imagine how he would like this morning to go.

He would have a cup of coffee ready for her when she woke. He would know just how she liked it and she would pick it up with a content sigh, alerting him of her presence. He would greet her with a soft grunt, hard at work in front of the stove making them pancakes.

Then she would wrap herself around his waist, her arms just barely able to circle the thick width of him. She’d be warm and soft, gently pressing against his back, swaying to music she was humming and mumbling sweetly into the fabric of the shirt stretched over his shoulders.

“Fine.” He finally answered her. He was lying. He hadn't slept.

She shuffled around the kitchen, barely brushing by him in the small space he all but dominated. Before he had anything to say about it, she was putting a plate of french toast in his hands and ushering him over to the table.

“How do you take your tea?” she mumbled through a mouthful of dry cereal, still padding around the kitchen sleepily.

“Coffee,” he corrected, not meaning to be stern with her.

“Hm. ok.” She hummed in recognition, taking quick note of that and starting the coffee maker for him. He didn't say how he took it but she assumed black with no sugars, and she would be right about that.

--------------

After a few weeks he realized the only thing that was going to make the monotony of suburban living tolerable is the fact that she was there playing housewife for him.

Their days dragged on, pacing around the house and keeping to themselves. He couldn't help but think things would be a lot less dreary if he just bit the bullet and accepted her companionship.

She had plenty of hobbies to keep her busy. His only hobby was watching her.

For a while he was content to be a ‘ghost’ in his own home so to speak. She didn't see him unless he wanted to be seen, which wasn’t often. She was lucky if he showed up for dinner because the rest of the day he was nowhere to be found.

She had taken to gardening, their yard was becoming an oasis of sorts. Rich shrubs circled in walkways around a stone lined koi pond in the back. The plot in front of the house was lined with perfectly trimmed roses, the grass a serene shade of green. Slightly overgrown due to the lawn mower’s lack of use as of late.

He watched her perfect lawn sullied by the overgrowth of grass, grimacing slightly as he watched her try and fail to start the lawnmower a few too many times to be a little slip up. She didn't have any clue how to use it, that much was clear.

He huffed, creeping out of his room for the first time in a while to assist her in the front yard. When he swung the door open he was met with her standing face to face with him. Or more like face to chest because she was about a foot shorter than him.

She scrambled to get out of his way, standing in quiet interest on the porch as he took a few long strides into the front yard.

The sizable lawnmower looks like a toy next to him. He starts it easily, one pull of the starter chord and the machine is roaring to life. She holds back a pleasured sigh at the way his muscles ripple as he maneuvers the lawnmower about the patch of grass.

Not being of any use to him just watching, she decides to head to the kitchen and grab him a glass of lemonade. When she returns he’s decided to strip off his shirt to maybe keep the spring heat at bay.

His torso is littered with scars and tattoos, body perfectly toned as she had come to expect. She resented his large biceps, embarrassed that she couldn't even begin to do the tasks he made look so easy. Luckily he was there to do them for her.

The unbearable heat was a double edged sword as far as he was concerned. On one hand, it was torture. On the other hand, the heat made for a lovely sight when it came to his female companion.

Barely there sundresses were the majority of her wardrobe. Exposing the soft plush of her thighs and the swell of her chest. She looked flushed constantly, hair mussed from humidity. When he looked at her like that, he couldn’t help but think she looked like she had just been thoroughly fucked.

“Are you thirsty, honey?” she shouted from the porch, distracting him from his fantasy, much to his chagrin.

He smiled at the sweet nickname, knowing it wasn’t something anyone else would dare call him. “Yes ma’am.”

She bounded up to him, a girlish smile on her face. She wore an air of proudness to her when he grumbled appreciatively at the glass she handed him.

He didn't miss the way her lips fell open, jaw slack as she examined his figure with intrigue. He was already flushed from the sun, or else he would have been visibly blushing. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, wide doe eyes blinking furiously as she tried to make sense of how large he is. It was adorable, the way she looked at his form in awe made him want to show her just what his large frame could do when given her compliance and an uninterrupted night in bed.

As the silence started to become awkward he finally found something to say but he was interrupted by an unknown voice. “Hey neighbors.”

He turned a scowl to the man on the other side of the fence, not offering him any greeting in reply. He continued nonetheless “I’m Scott, noticed you guys moving in a couple weeks ago, just wanted to say hi.”

She smiled wide, bouncing over to the fence to greet him, Ghost followed behind somberly. “Hi, Scott. It’s so nice to finally meet some of the neighbors. Nice place you’ve got, I love the garden” She fiddled with her wedding ring as she introduced herself and her ‘husband’

“You’re gonna love the neighborhood, it's a great place for kids if you’re planning on having any.” The man rambled, quite obviously trying to get a read on the couple.

Ghost had been silent up until now, looming behind his partner and staring down the man in front of him in a way that couldn't be more intimidating if he tried. “We’re tryin’ real hard, isn't that right babydoll?” He teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squishing her against his sweaty chest.

“Babe!” she giggled, slapping her hand against his bicep until he loosened his hold on her, opting instead to keep a firm hand on the small of her back. He was shocked at how real it felt, how easily they fell into the role of a newlywed couple. It was nice to pretend, if only for a second.

Scott gave a sour look at the joke that she didn't seem to notice. “Well, I just wanted to invite you two. I’m having a pool party with the whole neighborhood next week if you want to come.”

“We’d love to!”

“We’ll see.”

They spoke at the same time, conflicting answers.

--------------

He feels like THE man strolling down the street with her at his side. Every man that passes them is staring at her soft thighs and wishing they could have a taste of her. He knows because it's the same thing he wishes for. But at least he gets to entwine his hand with hers as they walk to the grocery store, her small delicate fingers dwarfed by his large thick ones.

He didn't really need to accompany her to the grocery store. As far as anyone knew they were perfectly safe in their new location, no reason to be on alert. But she didn't feel that way, lingering around him for the past few days and repeating something along the lines of ‘I really need to get groceries one of these days.’

If he was a bit smarter maybe he would notice she was trying to get him to come with her.

Finally, the last straw was when he ran out of cereal. He grumbled something incoherent, throwing on a light jacket to combat the fall air and hurrying out the door with her hot on his heels. “Grocery day?” she questioned, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

“Mhm,” he hummed, slowing his pace just a little. He was just about to tell her he could get the groceries alone, like he did most of the time, when she took his hand in hers. It made him flinch, breath taken from his lungs by the warm weight of her in his hand.

“Well, let's get going!” her voice was chipper, seemingly ecstatic at the promise of simply going to the grocery store.

She meandered about the store, her eyebrows crinkling in concern as she inspected the products. He liked to imagine for a second that this was real, that he was a simple man with a simple domestic life and he was shopping for groceries with his wife.

If any of this was real he would get real close behind her and reach up to grab something off the top shelf, one hand on her hip to pull her against his chest. He’d press the bulge in his jeans against her ass and groan in her ear. “Feel that, babydoll?” He’d ask rhetorically.

“Mhm yeah,” she’d giggle, arching back to just barely grind against him. He had no reason to believe it was true but he liked to imagine her as the teasing type, sending him flirting glances across the length of a grocery aisle, just begging him to take her right there. Knowing he would have to wait until he got home.

But it wasn't real, so he just watched her slip a pair of glasses out of her purse and glare at a box of cereal accusingly. He took a step forward, effectively pinning her against the shelves of food. He figured he was looking down at her a bit too intensely because he doesn't miss the way she shrinks under his gaze. “What’re ya lookin at, angel?” he asked, gently prying the box from her grasp.

“Just checking the sugar content. You eat this cereal every morning, and you already have high blood sugar. It's just something to be aware of,” she answered simply, reaching past him to place the box in their cart.

“How?” He shook his head, confusion lining his face. What excuse did she have to be privy to his medical history. He felt distrust creep into the corner of his mind, despite himself he glared at her.

“I read your file.” He cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. She was the team’s analyst, of course she knew what was hiding on the inside of the heavily redacted stack of papers that told the story of his life.

But surely, she hadn’t paid that much attention to them. “You’re bluffing,” he grumbled, starting to turn away but her hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks.

She had to get on her tippy toes to speak to him, fingers curling into the shoulders of his shirt to steady herself. “Maybe I am, Simon Riley,” She whispered against the skin of his neck right below his ear. He felt a shiver run through his whole body.

She pulled back with a coy giggle, ignoring the dropped jaw expression on his face for the remainder of their trip. The only acknowledgement she made of him was a brief blushing ‘thank you’ when he grabbed a month's worth of groceries like they were air and toted them all the way back to the house.

He went home that night and pumped his cock raw to the memory of her saying his name. His hand was shoved in his mouth to muffle the animalistic groans that were slipping from his lips. His teeth broke skin from how hard he had to bite down.

The next morning when she asked why there was a bandage on his hand he said he got burnt on the stove. Without thinking twice, she took his hand and gave the bandage a gentle kiss. His

heart fluttered, he felt sick.

--------------

Holidays were weird. They had moved in during the end of the spring and by now the year was coming to a close, which meant it was time for thanksgiving and christmas.

She looked so in her element, prancing around the kitchen with soft holiday music playing from the speakers. Her hair was up and she wore an apron that probably had some corny joke on it. He felt like his heart grew six sizes when he saw the proud smile on her face when she finally set it all up.

The table was set decadently. He remembers sitting in the dining room while she flipped through a home catalog until she found something of interest. “Oh Simon, look!” she squealed, jumping up from her place on the couch to bring him the magazine. She pointed one sparkling red nail at the dining room set displayed on the page and whined until he agreed to buy it.

He never should have doubted her because it looked perfect. She had set the table with every side and entree he could have dreamed up, all homemade for him by his wife. Well, not really his wife. But he sure felt like it sometimes.

Then she sat him down and poured his drink and served his plate, her fingers twitching by her sides when she was done because she clearly wanted to reach out and touch him. Maybe take one of his hands in hers or brush her thumb over his cheek. She hadn't touched anyone in so long, she was starting to forget what real warmth felt like.

“Soooo, what are you thankful for?” she jested, trying to get him to show any emotion other than the utter disinterest she usually was able to find on his face.

“Jackshit,” he rumbled, trying to get a rise out of her. Or atleast a scoff of agreement. Instead she glared at him. As much as she could at least, he didn't think her face was capable of an unpleasant expression.

She looked over the large table of food and then back at him again, deep disappointment showing in her face even if she had tried to hide it. She spent hours in the kitchen toiling away at this meal, no one had ever done something like that for him. For me, he thought. Oh shit, she did this for me. “Oh- I didn't mean,” he started, but she quickly cut him off.

The corners of her eyes started to well with tears and she stood. “No! It's ok, eat. I’ll be back in one second.” She rushed to the bathroom, frantic breaths ripping through her lungs until she reached the bathroom and slammed the door, sliding to the floor once she was alone.

He really wanted to spend the holidays together. Not just in the same house, but really together. Like a regular couple. He ached to hold her from behind while she fussed over the vegetables on the stove, leaning over to kiss her forehead intermittently and soak in the little giggle she would let out at his random act of affection. As far as he was concerned the chance of all of that was slim to none, so he pushed her away like always.

He ate silently, waiting for her to return. When she didn't come back in the next 30 minutes he decided he had waited long enough. He couldn't just sit there and feel sorry for himself, he needed to clear the air. And by clearing the air, he actually meant go on a walk to get out of the house for a while so the air could clear itself.

Maybe by the time he got back he’d be able to act like a normal person around her, but he seriously doubted it.

About two miles down the road, he heard a soft sound, a distressed whine from some sort of animal. Against his better judgment, he followed after the sound. The loud mewls were easy to track, leading him right to the culprit. It was a kitten. A tiny ball of fur, no bigger than his fist. He was about to leave to go home and then he remembered what was waiting for him there and he really wasn't in the mood for conflict at the moment.

So instead he sat down, laying his palm out for the small cat to climb onto it and scooping the animal up into his lap. “I bet everyone likes you, little guy,” he grumbled, scratching the cat behind the ear with his other free hand.

For some reason the cat reminded him of her. Maybe because it was small and cute and frightened and he didn't have the slightest clue how to care for it but for some reason he desperately wanted to.

When he got home she was waiting on the porch, jumping up from her seat when she saw him coming down the road. They met halfway down the driveway, now that he was closer he could see she was burning with rage.

He had never seen her mad before, it was like a force of nature. Her eyes were fiery, unrelenting spite flowing off of her in waves. There were tears rolling down her cheeks, her grief only made her fury hit that much harder.

She didn't yell. He didn't think he had ever heard her yell and he wasn't going to start today. “I thought you were dead. I thought they got you and they were coming for me next.” Despite the tears falling down her face her voice was stern, deathly so.

“I got you a cat.” He stuck his arm out, a small animal on display for her. He settled his jaw into what could have been considered a smile if she was being generous. And with him it seemed like she always was.

“Thanks,” she sighed, shoulders drooping now that the adrenaline of anger was gone from her. She cradled the small cat against her chest, giving him a look of understanding. She wasn’t mad, she didn't know what was going on with him but she knew he was doing his best.

When they got back inside, it was deathly quiet. The only remnants of the festive air from earlier was the faint scent of apple pie lingering. She sat on the couch, curled into a sad lump under a fluffy throw blanket she had purchased a couple weeks back. She cradled the small animal like it was her only lifeline, tears still falling down her face.

He stalked over to her quietly, only alerting her to his presence when he sat down and pulled her huddled form into his lap. One of her hands tangled in the fabric of his sweater, gripping him like he’d evaporate if she let go. “I’m sorry,” he grumbled, awkwardly patting down her ruffled hair as she cried into his chest.

--------------

Eventually they stopped keeping track of the days, they were friendly with their neighbors but they kept to themselves mostly. The freedom of having nothing to do soon became suffocating. He thought about settling into a schedule, what it would be like if he stopped waiting for the call for him to come back. What if he just let himself live the rest of his life here in hiding with his girl.

It was convenient if nothing else, there's no way she would have chosen him otherwise.

He could tell it was taking a toll on her too, the naive optimism he used to see in her eyes was gone. She always seemed tired, pouting like a kicked puppy. She looked pathetic, he wanted to make everything better for her but he didn't have any idea how to.

“Simon, can I talk to you?” She had come into his room that evening, dressed to leave the house. He was instantly on edge because they didn't have a grocery trip planned for a while so where would she be going.

“What?” He didn't mean to snap, he felt something sting inside of him when she flinched away from his sharp tone.

“Is this forever?” she asked, obviously referring to them being stuck in deep cover limbo. The bags under her eyes were pronounced, her hands shook with stress. She looked worse for wear, still gorgeous as ever in his eyes. But she was in pain, and it hurt him as well.

“Pretty sure.” He wasn’t going to lie to her. As much as he wanted to promise her that things would go back to normal soon he knew it wasn’t true. They were going to be stuck in this purgatory in the form of a safe-house for the rest of their miserable lives.

“Fuck-” A broken sob fell from her lips, padding over to the cot he had settled in the corner and slumping down into the firm pillows.

He started to try and calm her but it was a lost cause. “It’s ok-”

He was interrupted by her shrill screech, he flinched at the pained tone. “It's not ok. It's not! I don't want to be alone forever!” Her voice cracked when she raised it above a quiet whine, pleading with him desperately to do anything that would make things better.

“I’m here,” he grumbled under his breath, below a whisper. He didn't think there would be a chance of her hearing him.

“Then be here. I’m so lonely, it's killing me.” She was louder than normal, still not quite yelling but her vocal chords were strained, not worn in with harsh shouts like his were. She was in uncharted territory.

“What can I do?” he pleaded, voice pitching up a bit despite himself.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m sorry, I’ll go.” She stood abruptly, trying to hold back tears.

“Stay,” he barked, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to stand between his parted legs. His hands stayed on her hips, holding her there so she had no hope of escaping. “Tell me what you need.”

He could feel his already weakened walls breaking down. “This is our life now. Try living it with me, yeah?” she offered, shaking hands reaching down to cup his face. He couldn't bear to look at her like this, broken and defeated. She was begging him to care for her just a little bit, and he almost laughed at the irony of it because he cared for her more than he had ever cared for anything in his life.

Without thinking, he pulled her closer. His hands on her hips winding around to clutch the small of her back, tugging her chest to chest with him. Their foreheads are pressed together, noses and lips brushing. “Please,” she whimpered.

He could see what she needed. He had been blind to it for so long but it was starting to make sense. The poor thing was aching for him, she probably hadn’t been properly cared for since far before they even went undercover. It’s like the whole scenario was set up to tease her, living in close quarters with a handsome hulking mass of a man who wouldn't dare touch her. She needed him badly, she was finally too desperate to be coy.

Her breathing hitched delicately and that was all the encouragement he needed to press their lips together. She was just as soft as he had imagined, her lips perfectly plush under his own. As soon as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she let out a series of gasps and sighs that threatened to make him cry from arousal.

She was so receptive, back arching to press farther into his chest. Her fingers tangled in his hair and her nails scraped against his scalp, giving a sharp tug to his hair and whining when he bit her lip as a reply.

“Yeah? That's it?” he breathes out against her lips. He can feel the friction of her tits rubbing against him through her thin tank top from the way her chest is heaving. He knows he should shut things down for the night, seeing as things are getting pretty heated pretty quickly. The selfish part of his brain wants to take her right there, fuck her through the late hours of the night and into the morning but he desperately tries to ignore that urge.

They’re engaged in somewhat of a staring contest, both of them ready to lean back into the kiss but waiting for the other to make the first move. He never thought he’d be this close to examine her face like this, her eyes are a darkened color pupils wide from arousal. Her lips are turned up into a giddy smile, unable to hide her joy.

He's pulled away from his thoughts when he finally hears something from her, it's a light giggle. Airy and sweet, he thinks that sound must be his own personal heroine because he would do anything to hear it again.

Her face is alight with a dreamy grin, flush growing rampant over her the apples of her cheeks. “I feel silly asking, but would you stay in my room tonight?”

#ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley #ghost smut #simon riley smut

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kikheda · 1 year

Text

Part 2 FLUFF/ANGST Oneshot

Alfie Solomons x (Female)OC (I-perspective) / kinda y/n

This is Part 2 to the SMUT Oneshot, with a bit of aftercare and a lot of angst, I'm sorry in advance.

Warnings: mentions of Alfie's skin condition / skin cancer, consensual relationship, verbal fighting, a lot of drama

Words: 1618

“Let’s get you cleaned up, eh?” Alfie mumbled and let his hands slide down my waist, his fingers trailing down to my pussy that leaked our mixture. I looked up at him with sleepy eyes and took his hand to let his coated fingers slide into my mouth. He chuckled lovingly into my face and kissed me one more time before he decided to bring me into his bathroom.

The cold air of the night crawled through the walls and let me shiver in the bathroom, the lightbulb was dimmed and made Alfie’s features shine in a golden shade. He noticed my shivering and lost no time preparing the bathtub and turned on the water tap. After checking the temperature with determination, he turned to me again. “Mm, sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to let you freeze here like a forgotten fruit. Come here.” he enveloped me into his arms again, even though he was naked as well, his body was still warm. I tried to wrap my arms around him as close as I could to be able to let the comforting warmth his chest radiated caress my cold skin. Alfie enjoyed it so much, when I just tried to touch and feel him everywhere but he made a little sound and let go of me. He turned to the mirror shelf above the sink and opened it to take a clean cloth. He rinsed it under some water and kneeled in front of me to gently clean my pussy. When my hand went through his hair, he looked up at me, smiling in contentment.

After he thought he cleaned me up enough, he tossed the cloth into the sink, but remained where he was. His mouth wandered to my thigh and he started to kiss and softly bite my flesh, his other hand kneading my ass. My hand stayed on his head and when he looked up at me again, I smiled at him. “You fucking goddess of a woman, you’re going to be the death of me.” he said and got up to face me. I laughed and immediately touched his body again. Just any kind of skin-to-skin contact was obligatory. Alfie turned to the bathtub to check the temperature once again. “It wouldn’t be a painful death though” he said while taking my hand and leading me into the bathtub. My feet standing in the warm water already made me feel better. “It would be the sweetest and most delicious death there is.” he continued, and I rolled my eyes at him. “I want you alive, Alfie.” “Well, I’m all yours, angel.”

“Come in as well.” I said as I realised that Alfie didn’t plan to take the bath with me. His face drew a declining expression “No, angel, it doesn’t fit the both of us anyway.” We both knew it was just an excuse. The bathtub was broad enough to have us both laying in it. “Let me get you a cup of tea anyway.” Alfie tried to get away, but I gripped his wrist and made him look at me. “What is it, Alfie?” I asked, even though this side of him wasn’t new to me. As long as we had sex, he didn’t care about anything at all, but whenever we were done, he tends to want to get away from me, like he didn’t want me to look at him anymore. Only if he made sure I’m alright and cleaned up of course.

“The bloody water is getting cold, if you keep bitching around.” he said. I tossed his hand away and scoffed. “I’m just going to keep standing here, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” “Bloody hell, woman, just take a fucking bath now.” his voice got louder but his demeanour still remained soft. He left the bathroom and closed the door. Suddenly I felt like an idiot. Only a minute before, we shared the loveliest touches of affection, and now I destroyed the mood for the rest of the night. I stood there in silence, and decided to sit down, after all I was still freezing, and the warm water was a nice comfort. I took the soap from the edge of the bathtub and absentmindedly let it wash over my arms. When I had enough foam on my skin, I let my hands stroke over my whole body and remembered every touch of Alfie’s hands from a while ago. I leaned back to close my eyes.

All I heard was the water resisting to my movements and Alfie cluttering in the kitchen. I loved him, very much. I didn’t just come to him in the middle of the night for his body, I longed for him. If I could make a wish, I would wish for him to live in serenity and peace, I would want to do whatever it takes to give him a safe and content life. But as long as he decides to live the way he does, I cannot do much about it.

Slow and quiet like a deer, the door was opened, I opened my eyes and saw a grumpy face holding a teacup. He already had his clothes back on. I was angry at him, but I smiled and nodded so he knew he was welcomed. He took the wooden stool, that stood in front of the window and placed next to the bathtub. After putting the tea on the edge of the bathtub, he sat down and looked at me. I took his hand into mine and kissed his knuckles. “I’m sorry, pet.” he mumbled and looked away from me. I caressed the inside of his wrist, my fingers trailed along his veins and then I felt it, one of many little psoriasis patches that were part of his skin. Suddenly, I realised, what his behaviour was about.

We had fights about this before. Whenever I would tell him to marry me, he always jokingly replied that he’s too ugly for me. Whenever I would look at the patches on his face or touch the parts of his skin that made him feel so ugly for too long, he would turn his back to me. It was a paradox. Everyone who knows Alfie, friends and enemies, all of them would never think, that Alfie could be insecure. He is the most feared man in London, how could he think of himself so poorly when he was with me?

“I fucking love you.” I said firmly and looked at him “I love every inch of you.” Now he looked at me and his eyes looked like they wanted to kill me for my words. “Shut up about it. There’s nothing to talk about.” Alfie mumbled.

“No, Alfie.” I raised my voice and turned to him, grabbing for his wrist and hold his arm with a tight grip. “I’m not letting you get away with it this time. Fuck, look at me. You treat me so lovely, your hands are like gentle whispers to my skin, why can I not do the same to you?” I sound frustrated. “Don’t be so grotesque, love…” he starts but I am way too upset to have a clear conversation, “No, Alfie. Listen to me. It kills me. Right?” “Right.” he turns his head to the side and mocks me.

I can’t believe that even now he doesn’t take me seriously, so I get up, the water splashing beneath me. He looks me up and down and grins. I grab for his white shirt and try to unbutton it, but he holds my wrists and looks at me, expressing a serious pleading. “Please don’t do this, pet.” he whispered. Still holding his hands, I stepped out of the bathtub and Alfie lost no time, getting a towel to wrap it around me. I looked at him with angry eyes and put my hands on the sides of his face. He stared right back at me, holding the towel around my torso.

“Let me take care of you too.” I whispered and only now Alfie started blinking, “You said you’re all mine, alive.” I continued, my fingers went through his curls, and I started kissing the ugly parts of his face, they were not really ugly, but for him they were. I sighed: “You don’t give a shit about any of these idiots you fuck with, why are you so scared about my judgement?”

I took hold of the towel myself and tried to dry my skin, while I listened to Alfie sighing as well and then answering: “Because ya’ ain’t none of these idiots, You are the only good and holy and pure thing in my life, treacle. And you don’t see it, because my charming and genius mind lures you in, like siren lure in pirates, but you should be with someone who’s as innocent and kind as a saint themselves.” “You are kind, Alfie,” “No, no, I’m not.” “You’re kind to me, and that’s enough for me. And right, your pretty words and your handsome body lure me in, so now you have to deal with your prey. I’m not going anywhere.” Alfie kissed me, my towel accidentally falling to the ground. “I’m tired.” he says. “Me too.” I say and take his hand, “Let’s get some sleep.”.

In the bedroom I take off his pants and let him lay down on the mattress, then I take the duvet and shake it back into place, because it was still crumpled up from our love making before. I softly place the cover over him, and kiss him on the forehead, then lied down next to him, my head resting on his shoulder.

“Good night, love.”

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 months

Text

Let's Not Talk About It

Gator Tillman x Kirby Rivers (OC)

[ Kirby's Bio ] [ part one ]

♤ Summary: Gator gets his arm broken, shows up at Kirby's the next morning. Both of them are bad at talking about their pain.

♤ Warnings: canon × oc pairing, nonbinary/trans oc, oc uses he/they pronouns, drug use, angst, mentions of past abuse

♤ A/N: just gonna keep mentioning @jozstankovich because they're my little cheerleader and i love them so! Suprise! Have another chapter! There might be oooonnnee more after this! 🤭 Reblogs and comments are cherished and loved! 💖🍒💖

♤♤♤♤

Kirby had just slid underneath Mrs. Abernathy's blue Honda when he heard Gator's truck pull in. He slid the oil bucket under, popped the canister out and let it drain before sliding back out as Gator's footsteps approached, too slow. And far too early in the morning.

Kirby squinted up at him, ignoring the little swoop in their stomach at seeing him so early in the day, squinting against the barely risen sun, his eyes land on the cast on his arm, then the cirlces under his eyes. He lays there, on his back looking up as Gator stops near his feet.

"Well you look like shit." Kirby says, one eye squinted shut as the sun shines down around Gator's shoulders.

"Gee thanks." Is all Gator says. Kirby nods, takes a deep breath.

"Lemme get this changed real quick. There's coffee inside if you want some." Kirby slides back under the car as Gator heads for the house. They do their best to not get oil all over themselves. Doesn't work. Kirby rolls back out from under the car, job done, oil covering his hands and dripping down his arms.

"Fucks sake." He mutters as Gator walks back out, two mugs in his hands. He takes one look at Kirby and sets their cup on the workbench before taking a careful sip of his own.

"Wasn't this car just here?" Gator nods to the Honda, eyes moving over it like he thinks it's gonna jump at him or something. Or maybe he's just focusing on it so he doesn't have to look at Kirby. Either way, his eyes stay glued to the car, and away from Kirby.

"Yeah. It's Mrs. Abernathy's. I guess her husband used to tinker all the time. Just everyday. He used to be doing something to it." He grabs a rag, starts wiping at his arms.

"He passed away about six months ago. So she keeps bringin' in to me. I think it makes her feel better to have somebody workin on it." Kirby shakes his head, grabs the bottle of orange scub soap off the work bench and squirts a pool of it into his palm.

"There's not really much needs done to it. But I like to check the simple stuff, windshield wipers, plugs, oil changes, tire pressure. All that kinda stuff." He walks over to the faucet on the side of the garage, turns it on and rubs the soap over his hands all the way up to his elbows.

"You charge her for all'a that?" Gator asks, eyebrows raised as he glances Kirby's way, watches him lather his arms, scrubbing the oil off his skin.

"Huh? Naw. She buys weed too, on her way out, I just let that cover it." They shove their hands under the water, wincing at the cold.

"And don't be tellin anybody else that. I don't wanna hear about one of you deputies charging that nice old lady with drug possession or some shit." He points his finger accusingly at Gator. He raises his free hand, the one sporting the nice new cast, moves his fingers over his lips and mimes tossing the key over his shoulder.

"Mhm. You better." Kirby wipes his wet arms and hands on his clean-ish coveralls, he'd actually had the sense to not wipe the oil there today.

"So what happened to your arm?" They lean back against the work bench, pick up the mug of coffee and take a sip. Gator's eyes hit the ground immediately, his shoulder jumping once.

"Broke it." Is all he says.

"Oh yeah? Is that why they put casts on people? I just thought people were trying to spice up their lives. Do you like the spice girls?" Kirby asks, head tilted to the side. Gator just blinks at him, frowning.

"Yeah. They don't really seem like your type of music. Though I mean you never know. Some people like all kinda stuff. Maybe you should give'em a try." Kirby shrugs, looks Gator pointedly up and down.

"Might spice up your mood at least." Kirby smiles when Gator looks at him, levels him with a bitchy scowl.

"Funny." Gator says, voice dry. Kirby snorts at him, gives him a toothy grin and a little eyebrow wiggle, takes another sip of coffee, and lets the quiet of the morning settle over them for a minute. Gator keeps his eyes away, looking out over the junkyard, the sun hitting his face turning his skin gold. Kirby looks him up and down again, no Sheriff's vest today, and no Sheriff's hat. Just his white and green cap, backwards, sunglasses on the back, doing him no good as he squints into the sun.

He's got his carhart on, jeans, boots. He looks different this way, holds himself different. Kirby watches him switch his coffee mug to his good hand with a grimace.

"You wanna talk about it?" Kirby tries, leaning forward a bit, his butt still against the workbench. Gator glances his way, eyes dark, and takes a drink, says nothing. Kirby nods.

"Got it. Fair enough." They scratch at their hair, look at their nails for a minute, noticing all the dirt they missed. Kirby chews as some loose skin on his thumb, eyes moving over Gator again. His shoulders are tense, his legs too, he hasn't kicked at the dirt in the yard once this morning.

"You wannaaaaa ...smoke about it?" Kirby offers, waiting for Gator to turn to him before he dips two fingers into the big front pocket of his overalls and drags a joint out, wiggling his hand. Gator takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing a bit, and nods, looking tired, but Kirby sees a small smile there too..

"Cool. Let's go inside. Way more comfortable. And there's food in there. Which we will need, obviously." Kirby tucks the joint behind his ear and heads for the door. Gator falls in line next to him, his steps in synch, his shoulder bumping into Kirby's and staying pressed there as they walk to the house. Warmth blooms through Kirby at the contact, he shakes his head, tells himself it's just the morning sun.

~°~

"You need any pain meds?" Kirby asks, their feet kicked up next to Gator's as they both melt into his couch, pressed together from knee to shoulder, the tv playing some old black and white movie.

"I got some. Just the regular shit. Like Tylenol or whatever." Gator shakes his head slowly, takes a drag, passes it back to Kirby.

"If you need somethin stronger let me know." Kirby takes a drag, taking care not to burn his fingers as the blunt shrinks down, and drops the last little bit into the ashtray on the table between their feet.

"You sell stronger shit?" Gator asks, head turning in their direction, resting on the back of the couch. Kirby turns too, shakes his head.

"No. I bought stronger shit. For me. And I'm offering to share one or two with you. Different thing." Kirby corrects, patting Gator's knee, he contemplates leaving his hand there, just resting on Gator. But they don't wanna push, don't wanna chance that it'll freak him out, make him run, so he pulls back, drops his hand on his stomach and closes his eyes.

"Maybe one." Gator sighs, Kirby opens their eyes to see him wincing, clenching and unclenching his casted hand. Kirby nods.

"If you wanna like... take a nap or something too, you can. Won't bother me none. I gotta get back to work soon." Kirby leans up, pulling himself from the couch, is about to stand up when Gator's hand touches his back. Kirby freezes, their breath catching in their throat as Gator's warm fingertips move over the skin across his shoulder blades, exposed under his overalls cuz he never puts on a shirt underneath.

"Why do you need strong pain meds?" Gator practically whispers it, his voice so low Kirby leans toward him, hears Gator hum when they don't answer, his fingers moving in slow circles across his skin making Kirby's head feel a little fuzzy.

"Um... it's- well cuz I'm in pain. A lot." Kirby stumbles over the words, when Gator presses his palm flat against his back, right over his spine, between his shoulder blades. Kirby can't help the shiver. Isn't used to such gentle touches. Especially not from Gator. He swallows roughly, looks over his shoulder to see Gator looking at him, his eyes hooded, but on him.

"Pain from what?" Gator moves his hand, over to Kirby's shoulder, and back across, his fingers tickling the base of Kirby's neck.

"Just pain. Chronic. From working on cars. My hands. My- my back. Sometimes my hips but that's- from somethin else." Kirby shakes his head, rolls his eyes at himself a bit, looks back to Gator and finds a small smile on his lips.

"From what?" He asks, his fingers trailing down Kirby's arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Oh just, stupid kid shit. Ya know, jumpin off shit I shouldn't have. Bein friends with the wrong people. Normal shit." They shrug, their eyes not able to meet Gator's now. His fingers dance down their wrist and then smooth over the back of his hand where it's resting on his thigh. Gator's hand is warm where it covers his. And it does, cover his. Though that's not much of a feat, Kirby's got small fucking hands, small like the rest of him. He stares, watches Gator curl his fingers around and under, holding his hand like it's something precious.

"Wrong people. Did somebody hurt you?" Gator asks, leaning up himself now, his shoulder pressed to Kirby's back. Kirby swallows, feels how dry his throat is and tries not to cough.

"I mean. Yeah. Lotta people have hurt me." He shrugs, his shoulder moving against Gator, jostling him the smallest amount. Gator drops his head to Kirby's shoulder, his eyes falling shut as he nods against him.

"Who hurt you?" Kirby asks, turning his hand under Gator's, he'd tried so hard not too, to keep still, but they had to, had to touch him, to hold his hand. Gator's fingers lace between his, his head still on Kirby's shoulder.

"Some asshole. Got the jump on me. Snapped both bones with one hand. How fuckin crazy is that?" Gator mumbles, not lifting his head. A pang of worry, and fear, shoots through Kirby's chest.

"Yeah. Crazy." He breathes, his thumb soothing over Gator's.

"Might take you up on the nap Kirb." Gator sighs, nuzzling against their shoulder, his head moving back, til his nose is nearly pressed to Kirby's neck.

"Okay. You want the couch or the bed?" Kirby asks, can feel himself trembling now, Gator pulls his hand free, his arm snaking around behind Kirby, resting against his waist, but not holding him, not yet.

"Couch is pretty comfy." Gator mumbles, his nose brushing Kirby's ear as he moves.

"Bed's even better. I got all kinda pillows and blankets in there. Not to mention the insense. Nice and relaxing." Kirby bites his lip, his fingers moving over Gator's knee genlty. Gator snorts into his shoulder, his arm jumping against Kirby's waist, hand curling over his hip.

"You're such a fuckin hippy." Gator scoffs, genlty, into the skin of their shoulder, his hand giving Kirby's hip a squeeze before he leans back, eyes moving over Kirby's face slowly.

"But that does sound nice." He nods. Kirby nods back.

"Bed then." He says, forcing himself to stand, to pull himself away from Gator's warmth. It almost works. But Gator stands with him, his arm not moving from Kirby's waist.

"Bed." Gator nods, leans forward, ducks his head low and presses his lips to Kirby's naked shoulder, moves them across the skin there and then turns and walks away, his hand dragging over Kirby's back genlty as he pulls away.

"Bedrooms on the left right?" Gator asks, not turning back.

"Yep. Yeah. It's- yeah." Kirby sighs, watches Gator duck into his room and moves himself. He grabs a pain pill from the kitchen cabinet, and a glass of water, and follows him into the room.

Gator's alread settling down into the bed, his jacket thrown over the foot of it. Kirby hands him the pill, watches him take it, and sets the water on the nightstand.

"Get cozy. I'm gonna go change a tire and then investigate a mysterious 'click click' sound coming from Mr. Guthery's old ford." Kirby jerks their thumb over their shoulder toward the garage.

"You need to be up at certain time? Or can I just let you sleep?" Kirby rubs his hand over his arm, watching as Gator nods off in front of him.

"Gotta be home before dinner." Gator slurs, his face snuggling into Kirby's pillow.

"Kay. I'll wake you up at four if you're still sleeping. That okay?" Kirby's not expecting an answer. But Gator nods, hums low in his throat.

"Mhm. S'good." He sighs, his body visibly relaxing as he falls alseep. Kirby smiles down at him, shakes his head. He drags his finger over the blue cast on his arm, his stomach twisting with worry again. They trace their fingers tips over the frown lines between his brows, soothing them out til he looks peaceful.

Kirby brings his fingertips to his lips, presses a kiss there, then presses his fingers to Gator's temple, just a soft touch, Gator hums in his sleep, his lips twitching up into a small smile. Kirby smiles down at him, watches his chest rise and fall for a few more moment's, and then leaves him there to rest.

~°~

Kirby's making a sandwich around three when he hears Gator get up. He shuffles into the bathroom and Kirby smiles when he hears him stub his toe on the wonky sink vanity, curses echoing down the hall. They're grabbing for a tomato when they feel him.

Gator steps up behind them, presses himself against their back. Kirby's breath catches again, he drops the tomato and Gator snorts a laugh into his neck. His arms wrap around them, pull them close.

"How'd the 'click click' noise turn out?" Gator asks, chin resting on their shoulder. Kirby smiled, picked the tomato back up and started slicing.

"Turned out to be more of a 'clunk clunk' sound. And it was just an old muffler that needed replacing. Not too shabby for a days work." Kirby shrugged, making sure to move the shoulder Gator was on extra high. He made a strangled noise and poked at Kirby's side, they squirmed in his arms, plopping a slice of tomato onto their sandwich.

"You want one?" Kirby asks, glancing to the side, trying to see Gator's face. He tucks his chin down, pressing his lips to Kirby's sun warmed skin and shakes his head.

"Naw. I gotta go." He says, words muffled. Kirby hums, laughs when Gator reaches out, picks up a peice of turkey and shoves it in his mouth.

"I'll come back soon though." He says through his mouthful, hands moving to Kirby's hips.

"When I can." He shrugs, voice gone quiet. He tucks his face into Kirby's neck, his nose nuzzling right behind his ear. Kirby bites his lip to hold in the whine that threatens to crawl up his throat.

"Okay. Be- be careful." Kirby whispers, knows he sounds breathless, and worried. Gator's arms wrap back around him, pulling him close. Kirby feels his lips press to their neck, soft and warm.

"I'm always careful." Gator breathes the words against his neck, squeezes Kirby in his arms and then he's gone again. Shrugging his jacket on as Kirby watches him leave. He looks over his shoulder once as he goes, Kirby standing at the door, arms crossed, watching as Gator smiles at him before climbing into his truck and driving away with a little one finger salute.

Kirby watches him go, and tries to ignore the sense of worry blooming in chest. Tries to ignore the fact that it feels more like dread curling around his heart. Tries to ignore the sinking feeling that whatever it is, it's heading straight for Gator, and there's nothing he can do to stop it, or keep him safe from it.

He goes back inside, eats his lunch and smokes another half a joint. Then shuffles down the hall to his room. Kirby falls into their bed, pulls their pillow close, and sighs when they smell Gator's hair gel, the scent lingering on his pillow case. He holds it close, breathes Gator in, and drifts off to sleep hoping, and absently praying to a god he doesn't believe in, that Gator will be okay. That he'll be safe.

The nasty little voice that comes out to play when he's alone, and worried, or scared, whispers that he won't be, and there's nothing Kirby can do to change what's coming. He falls asleep frowning. Falls into the dark, and dreams of Gator screaming for help that won't come.

#my writing #my fic #gator tillman #gator tillamn x kirby rivers #gator x kirby #oc: kirby rivers #my ocs #gator x oc

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captain-mj · 1 year

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What do I have to do for more Warrior! Ghost and Spoil! Soap???

I am but a little Fella obsessed with you cod AU's so please begging on my hands and knees for a part 3 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️

Heyo! This is actually pt 4 now! Crazy how fast we got here! Part 3

Ghost stared at the ceiling after he woke up.

Bonnie.

He had heard the term before of course. Multiple times from other Scots. Usually not directed at him.

His skin tingled slightly.

Soap was an idiot. Whatever game he was playing at, Ghost wasn’t interested. Even if he did look good in his clothing.

Ghost bit the inside of his cheek until blood started to fil his mouth. He had to remember Soap was trying to survive. Doing his best to not be killed. He didn’t punish him for trying to escape. Wouldn’t punish him if he tried again, despite the vague threats he made.

With a small sigh, he dragged himself from bed. Price needed to talk to him, he was pretty sure. Or maybe it was Alejandro… One of them anyway.

He felt Soap’s hand on him, light and searching, still mostly asleep. Ghost looked at it for a minute before picking it up and slowly setting it

Ghost flushed, thinking about last night. The way Soap said called him pretty and leaned in. His soft mouth, inches away from Ghost.

Ghost was a glorious sinner, but the way Soap had said that.

He got up and cleaned himself in a nearby river so he didn’t have to worry about Soap. He redressed and went to look for his coworkers.

Alejandro was sparring with someone, trying to teach them how to sword fight more effectively. Their technique was terrible but he was a good teacher.

The student fell flat on their ass.

Most of the time.

“Hey, Ghost!” Alejandro put the blade to the person’s chest. “Need something?”

“Just out. Anything I can help with?” Ghost looked around, noticing Rodolfo trying to train someone else. The other guy was just as bad. This is exactly why he doesn’t train people.

“Mind telling this person where they went wrong?”

Ghost hummed and calmly told the person the long laundry list of what they did wrong. Their stance, their posture, the lack of center of gravity, even critiqued the way they held their blade.

“Eh, I think that’s enough, Ghost.” Alejandro was clearly laughing, even though the kid looked close to tears. “Now get up and try again with Smith.” He walked away from him, leaning against the fence.

“So. What state is MacTavish in this morning?” He grinned and leaned in close to Ghost, like they were whispering secrets to each other.

“I left him passed out in my bed.” Ghost answered, technically it was true.

“Damn. Stone cold Ghost.” Alejandro looked at him, something right behind his eyes. Some thought or emotion Ghost couldn’t quite pin down. “Price just got back from raiding a village. Had a bottle of bourbon he was saving for you.”

“Thanks, Ale. Good luck with these guys. They look hopeless.” Ghost pulled away. As he walked away, he could hear Alejandro laughing.

Price never locked his door so Ghost just slipped in. It smelled nice, like someone was baking. He could hear someone in the kitchen, so he looked for him there.

Ghost froze when he saw someone who was clearly not Price. Kinda short, blond hair, definitely not Price.

“Oh. Hi.” The person looked up at him. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Ghost stared down at him, but they didn’t shrink back.

“If you’re looking for the Captain, he’s in his office.” They said after a moment. “Graves by the way.”

Ghost just stalked past him and went straight to Price’s office. “Who the fuck is that?”

“Uh. Long story, don’t feel like explaining. Why are you here?” Price was already sliding the bottle over to him and Ghost took it.

“Bored. Wanted to know when my next raid would be?”

“I think Shepherd has you grounded. Next one is Alejandro’s.”

“Fucking hell. I don’t like sitting still.”

“And Shepherd doesn’t like losing. Come on. Be honest with me, I know you. I know how you are. So I know for a fact, you aren’t doing anything to MacTavish.”

Ghost sighed. The scars on his body itch. “I didn’t… He said…”

“I know, son. But you painted a target on your back. You’re going to have to deal with the consequences until Shepherd gets over it. And that means being on basics for now. Stay home, protect the village, strike fear into people’s hearts. You know. You’re least favorite things to do.” Price smiled at him and Ghost groaned.

“Keep the booze coming. I’m going to be in a drunken stupor for the next few weeks.”

“Will do, Simon.”

Simon.

“It suits you.”

Ghost blushed under his mask and nodded. “Keep me updated on his moods. And the guy in there… It serious?”

“Working on it.” Price grinned at him. “Look, enjoy your vacation.”

“Absolutely not.” Ghost shook his head.

Price laughed. “Come on, Simon. It might be good for you. Get rested. What do you normally do between missions?”

“Hide in my home. I can’t exactly do that right now.”

Price was clearly trying to not laugh more. “Look, just… I think there’s a festival tonight. Go to that.”

“Where?”

“Near the church.”

“I’ll be on the opposite side of the city. Thanks.” Ghost stood up. “See you later, Captain.”

Price nodded and followed him out of the office, heading towards the kitchen. Ghost decided he didn’t want to stick around any longer, being in so many buildings lately was starting to grate on him.

He went by his home and put the bourbon on the table. Before Soap could notice him, he left again. The festival was one of the ones for the seasons. For once, all of his mind was in agreement that that was not something he wanted to do.

Ghost ended up perched on a building most of the day, standing like a gargoyle. His presence seemed to be enough to scare most people away. He sighed, watching a bird flit closer to him and sit nearby.

“What, am I not as scary as a scarecrow?”

The bird cocked its head but didn’t move.

“Guess not.”

Soap. It felt like all his thoughts lately were dedicated to the man. He had moved closer again in the night. Ghost knew he should stop him. Should’ve shove him off or make him sleep in the floor. But he didn’t.

Soap’s hands had gotten so close to his mask. Ghost tried not to compare him to… anyone really. It was difficult. Especially when he said things like that.

Ghost carefully put his hands over his ears, not wanting to scare the birds near him. He was perfectly in control of himself. He knew that. It would be a terrible idea for him to be anything other than that.

Ghost was a sinner. An awful one. Sin permeated his being. Scars lacing his skin from it.

But he lusted. He wanted to hear Soap call him pretty.

Maybe not pretty.

They could find a better word.

Would those lips be that soft against his skin?

Soap had looked stunning in his clothing. Even better when he was asleep in his bed.

Sex wasn’t all he wanted. Greed. He wanted more. Wanted Soap’s attention. To make Soap his. Intimacy. Devotion.

He wouldn’t act on it. Wouldn’t be… Wouldn’t be Roba.��

Ghost sighed. “You’re a terrible conversationalist.”

The bird chirped.

Ghost shook his head. “Talk to you later.” He hopped down, landing rather hard. His feet ached, but it was a good pain.

The walk home was quiet. At some point while he had been up there, the sun had disappeared and the air had gotten chilly enough for him to see his own breaths.

Ghost, after kicking off his shoes because they were slightly muddy, went straight to the- his room. He stopped quickly at the door.

Soap laid out on his bed, clearly drunk. He had undressed but the blanket had been draped over him. Ghost remembered seeing paintings of people as a kid. Beautiful women and men in lovely portraits. Soap just happened to be missing the wings.

“You’re home.” Soap said softly, like he barely noticed Ghost was there. HIs head tilted back and Ghost could see all the way down to where the v of his hips were. Could count the scars on his torso. The blanket just barely kept him from seeing more and for once he was thankful for it.

“I am. Waiting for me?”

“Getting even. Fixing each other’s problems.”

“What’s my problem?”

“The mask. Take it off.”

“No.” Ghost mumbled to the air. Soap was too sincere which meant he wouldn’t hide his reaction. Ghost couldn’t fathom what would be worse. A look of disgust? Indifference? A comment about how pretty he was? The only thing he knew was he couldn’t handle any of it.

“You said you didn’t look. You’re looking now.”

“I suppose I am.” Ghost stared to move closer. He could see Soap was afraid, though not as much as he probably should be.

“Is this what you wanted from me?” Ghost’s hand gently cupped Soap’s jaw, his thumb pressed lightly against his mouth. They would be just as a soft.

He chose not to answer the question.

The bottle of bourbon, now half empty, sat on the floor by their bed.

“You’re drunk.” Ghost tried to keep his voice neutral.

“A little. Got nervous.”

“Why?”

Soap just stared at him and Ghost could see now. The glazed look in his eye, the redness of his face. He could smell the booze rolling off of him.

“I think I scared you. Just a little. I don’t understand how.”

“You didn’t scare me.”

“I did.” Soap grabbed his mask but Ghost caught his wrist.

“You’re drunk.”

“Exactly. Won’t remember in the morning.” It felt like bait. Ghost just couldn’t figure out what for.

He withdrew from him.

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” He grabbed the covers and roughly pulled them up, covering Soap’s figure as he looked away. “You’re drunk.”

“Why would you care about something like that?” Soap stared up at him. It wasn’t judgemental. That was the worst part. It was just calm curiosity.

“You won’t remember anything in the morning, right?”

“Not a thing.”

Ghost nodded. “I kinda liked when you called me pretty.” He shoved him down so he was flat on his back and left him.

He made sure to grab the bottle.

It was empty before the morning came.

#Johnny Soap Mactavish #Simon Ghost Riley #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2 #spoils of war

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