Would Stone Go To A Bar IF The 141 Went There Too?

Inspired by this post and @waves-against-a-cliff "Cbf!Johnny" comment. I present more of John Mactavish as the dog he is.

cw: dubcon(reader agrees but just covering my bases), f!reader, overstimulation

Living with Johnny was an easy decision. You've known him your whole life, and with his frequent deployments you usually have the flat to yourself. It's like living alone, except sometimes your best friend is around for "long term sleep overs" as he pitched them. He has his share of the bills on autopay and for the most part it's fun when he's around. You watch movies and throw popcorn at each other. You laugh at his stupid jokes in between complaining about your most recent attempt at dating.

"You know it wouldn't be so bad if any of them were halfway decent in bed," You tell Johnny absentmindedly. He's got his head in your lap, eyes focused on the TV screen as your fingers pet through his hair, barely paying attention.

"Hard getting practice in, not like you can ask a bird to play test dummy," He shrugs. You groan, leaning back against the couch. You guess that's fair, but it's not like you're asking for anything spectacular. An orgasm shouldn't be this hard to come by.

"The special service isn't training you to give head?" You tease.

"No that's just the navy." Johnny grins, finally turning his attention to you. His eyes dart over you, he's got that spark in his eyes that means he has a bad idea. "You know," He rolls the idea over his tongue, "I'm a little out of practice."

You push at his head with a laugh. Johnny sits up rather than be pushed off the couch and grabs your hips to drag you close. You shriek and feel his fingers pinching at your soft sides until you laugh.

"Good for both of us, yeah?" He asks, "I get to practice and you get off."

"You're not funny," You giggle out between fits of laughter. You twist in his grip to crawl away and he pulls you right back. His fingers tighten hard enough to bruise and you whine at the ache. "Ow, Johnny." You kick at him and he catches your ankle, flipping you onto your back.

"Lemme see your cunt." He says and the air rushes from your lungs. You stare up at him, his smile too wide. You've always found his toothy grin to be boyish, charming, but now it feels warning, predatory. You blink at him, feeling your cheeks starting to burn.

"Not funny," You tell him more firmly, turning to tug yourself out of his grip, your fingers twisting against the arm of the couch. You forget how strong military life has made him, too familiar with the scrawny kid you used to beat at footie. Johnny pulls you with a strength you've never felt, hauls you down the couch to lean over you. He's actually starting to scare you a little, the heat in his eyes is too close to burning and his teeth seem so dangerously promising.

"I'm not joking," His fingers drag from your hip, trail down to rest against the soft swell of your mons. He holds your legs open with the hand around your ankle and you struggle to take a breath. "Who else am I gonna practice on? You tell me what you like, yeah? And I'll show you what I can do with my tongue."

"Johnny I don't-"

"Ya were just sayin' you're in a dry spell," He reasons, his fingers rubbing teasingly between the waistband of your sleep shorts and just dipping too close to your clit, "can tell me exactly what you want as long as you want, know ple'ny of hens would love this opportunity."

Somehow that gets you. You wince at the mention of someone else, Johnny's never been one to date but he brings girls home sometimes. Or- no he usually goes to their place. Stays out late drinking with the boys and doesn't come home until late in the morning. You scrunch your brows together and he starts in on the begging.

"Please hen? Please," He pouts, dropping to rest his chin against your hip, "please? Please. Lemme do it. You gotta. Please. Ahm askin' nice an' everythin'. Please, please, please."

"Christ," you push at his face, just so you don't have to look at it anymore, "Fine, but just this once."

"Just this once tonight," Johnny agrees too quickly, already ripping your shorts down your legs.

You expected any sort of hesitation, but it feels like you've barely gotten your pants off before Johnny's pressed his mouth to your pussy. His tongue licks broad stripes, his head wiggles to try and push closer, lips kissing and sucking at your folds so eagerly it makes your head spin. You swallow, he's messy, unorganized, but the enthusiasm is there. Your fingers find his hair again and you swallow down your hesitation a second time. Johnny's your best friend, you can tell him anything, so you can tell him what you like.

"My clit," You start, tugging at his hair, "lick- lick it, um-" Johnny follows directions well, moving easily to flick his tongue against your clit. It's too gentle, maddeningly gentle, you can just barely feel it. "Harder," You suggest, "more pressure." Johnny presses his tongue harder against you, laves his tongue like a wave against your clit with firm pressure. You whine, feel him drag his mouth against you, his beard scratching your sensitive thighs. His tongue maintains its position, licking at your clit with varying degrees of intensity, testing the waters and listening to your soft panting whines.

You meet his baby blue eyes, his pupils blown wide, and he pulls back to let you see the way his tongue moves. Flat and pink, flicking against the sensitive bundle of nerves in teasing licks before he lowers down again. "You can s-suck too," You manage.

"Where hen?" He asks, lips closing around your clit and sucking hard. Your next words die on your tongue, your mind flooded with the sudden pleasure. His pulls back, and you try to come up with the words again, watching his thumbs spread your folds to further expose your clit to him. He sucks at it again, tongue working against it when his lips aren't pulling it. He only stops to work his tongue between your folds, dragging the tip around your hole to collect slick before pulling it towards your clit. "Gotta be specific or I won't know."

He's such a cheeky fucking bastard. He sucks at your folds, sucks at your thighs as his thumb rubs over your clit. Johnny's mouth is on your clit every time you open your mouth to give another direction. He works you up and then lets you drop back down, his lips kissing over your like he has all night.

"Fuck," You whine, hips following his mouth as he drags his tongue from your hole to your clit, "Johnny." He hums, lips around your clit, tongue fluttering against the sensitive bud. "Your tongue my-" He pulls off with a wet noise, and holds his tongue against your slit, waiting like a dog for your next order, "-my, uh-" fuck, having to ask for it out loud is embarrassing, and yet the heat on your cheeks has started to spread through your entire body, "-my hole. Please." You tack the politeness onto the end. You feel a little... guilty asking, but it's Johnny and he asked you to do this. (sort of)

"Look at you," Johnny coos, "such a good girl, so polite when ya want somethin'." You throw your arm over your eyes so you don't have to look at him. Your skin burns with embarrassment. You can't look at him right now.

"Shut up," You mumble. You feel his tongue prod at your clenching hole, the squirmy muscle wiggling it's way inside you to lap at your gummy walls. Johnny sucks your slick straight from the source and groans. The noises he makes, the wet slurping and sucking, make your blood run hot. His thumb rubs at your clit, his tongue stretching you out, the combination makes your cunt tingle with pleasure. Your whines sound more desperate than you'd hoped.

Johnny pulls back, dragging his tongue in broad strokes up your cunt. His licks are long and desperate, too eager to taste you, his eyes closed in bliss even as his ears twitch with your every moan. His mouth leaves you, and you pull your head up from where you'd been arching off the couch to see what he needs. Meeting his gaze is a mistake. As soon as your eyes touch his hand comes down hard on your clit. You yelp, as his fingers soothe over the sting. The sharp pain dissolves into heat, tingles over your skin like a rush of goosebumps. His fingers tap at your clit, and you whimper.

"You gotta keep talkin' hen," He presses, his fingers toying with your folds, "or I might start pullin' at the leash."

"You hit me," You whine. He pouts at you, imitating your own pout, and spanks you again. Your hips jump, your head dropping back against the couch. Two more sharp stinging spanks hit you and your stomach clenches. You can feel slick dripping off of your cunt and wetting the couch underneath you, which means Johnny can feel it too.

"Think you like it," Johnny grins, his fingers press into your cunt, two thick digits filling you without warning. You whine, clenching around the intrusion. "I thought you were helpin' me practice," His fingers twist in and out of you, and you grab for his wrist, "Where's my polite girl gone, hm?"

You squeeze his wrist, try to get him to stop fucking you with those delicious twisting jabs. It only makes him fuck his thick fingers into you faster. You gasp, your muscles tightening as he hits that delicious sweet spot you never seem able to find yourself. Moans drip from your lips, his fingers only slowing when Johnny lowers his mouth to suck at your clit again. You try to blink the stars from your eyes, your lashes fluttering until you can't keep your eyes open anymore. Your pleasure crashes into you with shaking legs, your pussy fluttering greedily around Johnny's fingers.

It's not good enough for him. His mouth leaves you, his breath heavy, and his fingers thrust into you hard. You writhe against the couch, your whines turning high and tight. The spring in your stomach coils and coils, holding you at an edge that doesn't seem to have an escape. The begging in your head falls out of your mouth.

"Please, please," You sob, your hips humping Johnny's fingers, "please Johnny, gonna come."

"Oh bonnie thing," He coos, his fingers picking up their pace, "you come as much as you want, my polite girl." His words split through you. Your back arches, your hips jump, the tightness turns into popping heat and wetness, and you come. Your slick squirting up his arm as he makes soft encouraging noises. Johnny's fingers never stop moving, your orgasm drawn up and released again and again until your hips hurt. Your insides ache, your cunt pushing at his fingers desperately for a break.

Your head is spinning, your vision blurry and your body heavy when you find enough energy to open your eyes. You glance down at Johnny, watch the way he rubs his cock against you. His tip is red and angry, drooling, the length is already coated in the slick it pulls from between your legs. You twitch when he nudges your clit, whimper at the sensitivity.

"Johnny?" He isn't looking at you, eyes glued on the mess between your legs, on the glaze of your come coating your pussy, dripping down your thighs. He wrenches his gaze from you only to shush you, leaning over your body to press his lips against your cheek.

"Just practice," He mumbles, "doesn't count, doesn't mean anythin', does it dummy?"

You feel his tip nudge against your entrance.

john making simon watch you get the pounding of your life because the two of you got into a nasty little argument, resulting in simon taking his anger out on johnny's ass.

he didn't even stop when you walked into your shared bedroom to see johnny getting his back blown out by your man. he only ordered you to sit and watch as johnny's moans and whines and the sounds of skin slapping filled the room, cum and drool staining your sheets.

simon had the audacity to groan when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, bottom lip quivering. he always did get off on making you cry.

now he sits with a hard, leaking cock, hands restrained behind the back of the chair as he's forced to watch you get fucked by his captain. despite the way he snarls and grits his teeth, he still twitches and drools in his pants when your cunt gushes around john's cock for the nth time, the desperation to join becoming unbearable. it doesn't help that you're making the prettiest noises, writhing as john folds you into full nelson, your body on full display. simon's seething, so pissed off because he can't touch himself, and he can't even lap at your sloppy pussy or suck on your pretty clit.

"dirty mutts like you get nothin'," john barks when simon pathetically demands to be allowed to touch you, his hips effortlessly working to bring you over the edge again. "you'll never fuckin' learn if i don't teach you how to play nice with your toys; what kind of captain would i be, eh?"

you're babbling incoherent nonsense, not a thought in your head as john's gravelly voice coos sweet things into your ear, calling you his perfect girl while he kisses away your tears. you feel like you're floating right up into the ether, another orgasm ripping through you when he rubs tight, firm circles over your sensitive clit, drool running down your chin at the immense pleasure tingling all over your body.

you aren't sure if you actually heard it before you passed out in john's arms at the end of it all, but you swear he grunted, "i fuckin' own you, so i own her. my pretty pussy, my pretty girl."

(meanwhile, kyle's sorting johnny out in another room, edging him nice and long for being such a slut. if he wanted a good fuck, kyle was right there, and he's feeling offended.

"is it cause i'm not taken?" kyle huffs, cruelly twisting his fist around the head of johnny's cock and grinning meanly at the broken sob he gets in return.)

18+ minors do not interact!

john price who's still a virgin at the age of 48. somehow sex never happened for him, sure he'd dated, he's kissed people but nothing more than that. his dates never calling him back or sending him messages that they don't see this going anywhere because of his work. always seems to be because of his work, it's almost like a curse.

then he meets you and it's different, you stick around for a second date that becomes a third then a fourth and a fifth and eventually you're a couple.

the first time time you bring up sex he goes quite, glancing away as he rubs his nape and softly admits he's still a virgin, pink flush across his cheeks as he waits for you to laugh and tease him. that never happens though, instead you ask why, listen to him as he talks, take his hand and kiss him as you ask him to let you be his first.

he almost cums the second he sinks into you, the heat around his cock, the feeling of you clenching around, the way your breath hitched and your eyes went glassy all too much for him. he doesn't though.

grits his teeth and sits back to take a breath before ever so slowly pulling almost all the way out before punching back in, a loud broken moan leaving his lips as you gasp and grip his biceps, eyes rolling back because you just feel so full. he's so big and stretches you out so much there's no room for anything else, you can feel all of him inside you, twitching and rubbing against you.

it only take a couple more thrusts before he's hunching over you "just feels too good" as he's caging you in his arms. "i'm sorry" leaving his lips like a chant as he jackhammers into you, panting and whining with his face buried in your neck as he starts to drool. your fingers gripping onto his back so hard they leave bruises and he cums, his whole body shuddering as he moans so loud it echos in the room.

he finally sits back on his legs, slowly pulling his twitching cock out of your hole and watching his cum leak out before he's pushing your legs to your chest and burying his face in your hole. lapping up his cum as he mumbles that he's going to make it up to you for not making you cum, his hands leaving your legs and wandering down your body and between your thighs.

Thinking about Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley who’s with a reader who’s never sucked dick before…and he’s a little too excited to stuff her mouth full of his fat cock.

“Simon, I’ve never— I’ve never done this,” You stuttered over your words, fingers digging indents into his thighs as you stared up at him on your knees.

His thumb in your mouth, nudged right up against the wet flesh of your cheek, staring up at him with dewy eyes and shallow breaths.

He knows.

Knows you’ve never had a cock in your mouth, so innocent, so sweet. And here he was, thick cock in hand, reddened, swollen, precum beading at the tip. Desperate, eager, throbbing in his massive palm because he was the first to ruin your innocence, defile your purity, take it as his fucking own. A cock too fat for your first time, he knows that much.

“I know, baby,” He murmured, smearing the fat of his cock head against your plump lips, “Let me show you, yeah?”

You nodded earnestly, precum glistening on your lips.

“Yeah?” He chuckled, but it was anything but remorseful, “Want me to teach you how t’suck cock, dove?”

✎ᝰ.ᐟ

gaz knows he’s pretty, but he loves it even more when you tell him so.

it was a perfect saturday morning, a rare occasion where you and kyle finally got days off of your professions. so that meant sleeping in ungodly amounts of hours tangled in each other’s limbs.

it was just a quarter to 11 am when you both finally stirred. he hummed, opening his eyes to find you already looking at him. his lips split into a gentle smile. “mornin’, lovie.”

your hands reach up to frame his face in your palms, and you mirror the smile he gave you. “good morning, pretty boy,” you murmur, peppering his face in the softest of smooches.

heat rose to his cheeks and spread to the tips of his ears, a slow sigh exiting his nostrils as he accepted your affection, eyes shutting so he could only think of your kisses. “your pretty boy.”

he listens as you snicker quietly, his smile widening. “mm. my pretty boy,” you correct yourself, before pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.

nudging his forehead against yours, he inhaled a nose full of your scent, and returned your kiss with his own. “can we have waffles today?”

“of course we can, handsome.” another rush of heat to his face. he pecks your lips once more, before you both roll out of bed to start brunch together.

but of course, it’s your day to treat him. after he pulls out the bacon and lays them out in strips on the baking sheet, he turns to you. “anything else i can do, sweet’art?”

“just sit there n’ look pretty f’me, love.”

so he hops onto the counter, looking to you with heart eyes as his legs dangled and kicked like a giddy child.

gaz masterlist

© clancycatears 2025. do not copy, steal, translate, or feed my works to ai.

(18+ MDNI)

As far as roommates go, Simon Riley isn’t a bad one to live with

Rarely in the flat, gone for weeks at a time, you sometimes forgot you even shared the rent with someone when you first moved in

And when he is around, he keeps out of your way, tidies up after himself, will offer to run to the shop when you’re running low on something for tonight’s dinner

All in all, you get along well

Especially after a few months go by, and he starts sinking his cock into you whenever he’s home

Every chance he gets, he’s got your ankles resting over his shoulders, or your legs locked around his waist, or your tits in his mouth, or your ass squeezed between his fingers or your hips against his as he bounces you or-

Once he’s had his first taste, Simon is insatiable, never not fucking you every opportunity he gets

He has you feeling like you’re on top of the world, while simultaneously about to tip over the edge of it at any moment

Your time spent together consists of bursts of pleasure and passion tangled together in a mess of limbs and lips, visions of scars and tattoos clouding your dreams at night

And while these rendezvous consist strictly of an outlet for stress, a means to an end that leaves you both more than satisfied, you can’t help the slowly blossoming feelings growing in your chest that whisper to you that you might mean something more to him, that you might just be something more to Simon

It’s on one such occasion, while Simon is balls deep inside you, about to put an end to his teasing and let you finally cum on his cock, when reality slaps you hard across the face

Your moans and whines, his grunts and gasps, combined with the sounds of skin slapping repeatedly, are nearly loud enough to drown out the ill-fated sound of his cell phone ringing from the pocket of his discarded jeans

“Simon, please! I- I’m so- Si, I’m close, I’m close! I’m gon-” You moan into his ear, ankles locked tight around his waist and fingernails scratching at the exposed skin of his back, pleading with him to deliver you the ecstasy you’ve been promised

Your begging comes to a stop however, when his own movements halt entirely, hips stilling against yours as pauses, looking back into your eyes though his mind is obviously suddenly elsewhere

“What are y-”

“Shh.” He shushes you all too quickly, just in time for the faint ring of his phone to reach both your ears

“Simon, wait. No! Can’t we-”

“That’s gonna be work.” He grunts out, sweaty palms slipping down your thighs towards your calves to try and disentangle himself from you

“So? It can’t wait 60 seconds? We were about to-”

“Doesn’ matter.”

“Are- are you serious right now?” You question, stunned by his reaction. In all the months you and Simon have been falling into bed together, he’s never told you what his work is, and you’ve learned not to ask him anymore

He pays his rent on time and contributes to the grocery runs, how he earns his money hasn’t been any of your business thus far, but it’s certainly never gotten in the way of your escapades before

Simon’s apparently decided he doesn’t need to entertain you with a response, because he’s pulling himself out or your embrace without a word, standing off the bed and pulling his cell out of his haphazardly thrown pants before the ringer ends

“Simon! What kind of job-”

“Alrigh’?” Is all he says into the phone, nodding along momentarily to whoever is on the other line, before he’s affirming something or another and hanging up, tugging his pants back on without so much as a glance back at your naked form sprawled out on the bed in shock

“Simon-”

“See ye when I’m back, birdie.”

And with that, Simon is out of your room, out of the flat, out of your life for who knows how long, a reoccurring event you should have grown used to by now, but never has he left you high and dry like this before

That was the day you learned, as special as you might feel when Simon is grinding against you, caressing your skin and grunting sweet nothings into your ear, you were not Simon’s priority

You would always come second

it’s late when he gets in, the flat dimly lit, the smell of something warm still lingering in the air. ghost kicks off his boots, rolling his shoulders, aching from the weight of the day. but when he sees you waiting for him—curled up in one of his jumpers, blinking at him all soft and sleepy from the couch—his chest does that thing again, that tight little squeeze that reminds him he’s home.

“you waited up,” he murmurs, voice lower now, rougher from exhaustion as he steps toward you.

you shrug, stretching a little, letting his jumper slide off your shoulder just enough to make his hands twitch. “had to make sure you ate.”

his gaze flickers to the coffee table where a plate sits, covered, waiting for him. he huffs, shaking his head, but there’s no real bite to it. “yer too good to me, love.”

“well you deserve it.”

that gets him. it always does. because deep down, there’s still a part of him that don’t quite believe that. but you do, and fuck, if he won’t let himself have that—have you.

you tug him down onto the couch, settling onto his lap with practiced ease, pressing the plate into his hands. “c’mon, si. eat please.”

he grumbles, halfhearted, but doesn’t argue. not when you’re so warm against him, not when your fingers brush over his jaw as you lift a bite to his lips. he pulls his mask up just enough, lets you feed him, eyes fluttering shut as he hums at the taste.

you watch him with that sweet little smile that turns him to mush.

“perfect,” he mutters, voice thick, arms tightening around you. “just like you.”

the match on telly plays in the background, but he doesn’t really watch it, too busy savoring the way you feel against him, the way you fuss over him, the way your free hand smooths over his chest absentmindedly.

and by the time he’s done, you’re barely keeping your eyes open, soft and warm against him. he shifts himself slightly, pressing his face into your neck, inhaling slow.

“y’fallin’ asleep on me, sweetheart?”

you hum softly in response, burrowing closer, and his lips twitch at the feeling.

“go on then,” he mutters, pulling the blanket over both of you. “i gotcha.”

and he does. he always does.

New continuation to this

I’m sitting on the idea of Ghoap x Reader AU where Reader is Simon’s best friend that’s been with him since childhood, through thick and thin.

They leave together when they graduate, start renting a flat before Simon leaves for army which initially changes nothing. He still comes whenever he can, calls them pretty often, he’s there for Christmases (if they get leaves for it).

And then something changes. It’s nothing noticeable, he is just a little more distant, he’s slipping their Christmas for the first time instead inviting Reader to come out somewhere in Scottish Highlands (you decline partially because you are upset that he just cancelled out on you all of a sudden and partially you and Simon are two socially inept people and the thought of spending Christmas with bunch of people you don’t know is…well, not alluring).

And then at some point Simon introduces the shiny John (“Johnny”, practically purrs Simon and you feel your blood pressure rising) “Soap” MacTavish who’s beautiful and joyful and whose smile is infectious.

And you are cordial, trying to be friendly, trying to push down the “oh, so that’s who you spent Christmas with in Scotland” because it’s not fair to Simon, because Simon doesn’t owe you anything, you aren’t together after all.

And Soap is incredibly friendly, grinning wide, touchy in a way that overwhelms you at some point, discomfort probably evident because Simon pulls Soap away by the nape of his neck, growling that he needs to let you breathe.

And it would be better if Soap instead didn’t drape his hand over Ghost’s shoulders and god, you never were one to be jealous but for some reason (yeah, why is that, i wonder) you want to hole up somewhere and hide.

Some old poly 141 art. i dont think i like this one too much but still. Eepy boys that were trying to watch a movie.

Rareship(?) I think Gaz x Graves would be interesting tbh