Julietta67

modern warfare 2: ghost (comic series)

🗲 issue #1 🗲 issue #2 🗲 issue #3

• your love is king🔥 ➣➣part II🔥 • body worship + praise kink • sub!könig🔥 • triumvirate [ft. simon 'ghost' riley]🔥 • butt stuff🔥

• i want you to want me🔥 • call me any, any time🔥 ➢➢johnny comes home🔥 • relationship headcanons (sfw and nsfw) ➢➢more (sfw and nsfw)

• the captain of my sea🔥 • magic fingers🔥

1K notes View Post

julietta67

2 years ago

Me? I need a vacation.

Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Summary- Hosea creates an opportunity for Arthur and the reader to go on a little trip.

A/N- It's Arthur Morgan lovin' hour y'all! I am probably going to make it into a mini series, with each story taking place in a different location. Our boy Arthur really does deserve a vacation.

Tags: Fluff and Smut, Slightly possessive Arthur Morgan, Cuddling, sharing a bath.

Rating/warning: Rated 18+ for smut. Smut is in between the ************** so it can be skipped if you're not feeling it.

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

You let out a long sigh as you see Dutch, once again, berating Arthur about something or another. You have half the mind to go over there and tell Dutch to shove it, but you know what Arthur would say. He’d tell you that ‘it's just Dutch’. Blessedly you are pulled out of your rising frustration by the sound of Hosea calling your name. You wave him over before turning back to watch the men talk.

“Hey Hosea,” you mumble as you rest your elbows on your knees. Hosea takes a seat next to you so that you both get a good look at Dutch and Arthur talking.

“Dutch never lets up on your husband, does he?” Hosea utters as he too watches the men.

“No, but I’d be damned if I didn’t say he oughta give Arthur a break.”

“Well, that’s precisely what I’ve been thinkin’," Hosea responds with a smile.

Now that caught your interest, you turn to look at Hosea prompting him to further explain.

“I think the both of you need a little break. Take some time off, go into a town, relax and get some rest for a while,” Hosea explains as he gives you a light pat on the back. The thought excites you a little. While in Saint-Denis you heard talk of something newlyweds were beginning to do called a ‘honeymoon’. During this time couples would go on a trip just for the sake of enjoying it. You and Arthur had been married for about a year and a half now, so you wouldn’t consider yourselves as ‘newlyweds’ but the idea sounded fun. However, your heart sank when the reality of the undertaking hit you.

“And how do you suppose we do that? Dutch probably already has another job for Arthur and Grimshaw will just about lose her mind if she thinks I’m going off for a leisure trip,” you sigh as you slump back down in your seat.

“I’ve got a plan that’ll solve that problem,” Hosea grins as he speaks.

” I’ll tell Dutch and Susan that I’ve got you doing a job for hmm,” Hosea asks as though he is thinking, but you know him better than that, he already has this planned down to the last detail,” a month.”

“A month! We can’t be gone for a whole month! We certainly don’t have the savings for that.”

You look at him with wide eyes. While both you and Arthur work your tails off for money, most of that goes to the gain. You tend to keep a larger cut for yourself than Arthur does, but that meager amount still doesn’t give you nearly enough.

“I’ve thought of that too,” Hosea says as he tries to keep the smile off of his face. Hosea lifts the strap of the bag he’s wearing and places it over your shoulder.

“What’s this?” you ask as he begins untying the front of the satchel. Hosea flips the top piece open to reveal stacks of cash. Your eyes widen at the sight. You’ve never seen so much cash in one place, except for maybe a bank.

“This is for the both of you. It’s 500 dollars.” Hosea announces.

“But we can’t just take your money….”

Your words trail off as you continue looking at the bag of money in your lap.

“There’s none I’d rather go to. You better believe me when I say Arthur does more for this gang than it deserves. Consider this a payment for the debt we owe him,” Hosea grins as he says the words.

“Thank you,” you utter, still too stunned to form full sentences.

“No you take that boy and make him get some rest,” Hosea exclaims as he closes the bag and ties it back up.

“Where’d you get all this anyways?” You ask playfully as you squint at him. Hosea takes a moment to laugh before offering you an explanation.

“I may be an old man, but that don’t mean I can still do a job on my own now,” Hosea remarks before standing and offering you a hand to help you stand as well,” now, let’s go tell the others that you and Arthur have a very important job to do.”

You smile as you take his hand and stand, before walking over with him to where Dutch and Arthur are.

“Now I’ve got this plan here—”

“Dutch, I need to talk to you for a second.”

Hosea interrupts Dutch and pulls him off to the side before throwing his arm over the other man’s shoulder. Hosea and Dutch speak quietly for a few moments, you can’t make out the words but you know the conversation is about the both of you as Dutch keeps raising his eyebrows in your direction every so often. As the two older men talk, Arthur gives you a questioning look expecting you to elaborate on the situation.

You lean in close to him before whispering,” I’ll explain later.” You watch as Dutch’s brow furrows and you fear that he won’t agree to the plan, but, as always, Hosea manages to ease Dutch’s worries, prompting him to give a little nod. The two men make their way back to you and Arthur.

“So it seems that my plan has to wait ‘cause Hosea already has a job for the both of you. Hosea already explained it to [y/n] here and she agreed,” Dutch states, and Arthur just cocks his eyebrows in response before Dutch continues,” It seems like this is going to involve a lot of travel and time so I guess we won't be seein’ the two of you for a month.”

Arthur’s eyes widen at the statement. He was used to being sent on long jobs, but never with you. At this moment he didn’t really care what the job entailed, he was just too excited at the idea of spending a whole month with you.

“When do we leave?” Arthur asks as he looks from Dutch to Hosea, you, too, were wondering the same thing.

“First thing in the morning,” Hosea explains, “that should give the two of you time to get your things together. Now, if you will excuse Dutch and me, we have to go talk to Susan.”

—-------------- “Alright,” Arthur announces as he pulls back the tent opening, ushering you inside,” You’ve gotta start explain’ some things. What’s this ‘job’ Hosea has us doing?”

You smile widely as you look up at Arthur.

“He told me that we should go on a trip, like a honeymoon.”

“A honey what?” Arthur questions as he flops down on the cot. Arthur lets out a tired groan at the feeling of finally being able to sit down.

“A honeymoon. It’s when a new couple takes a trip just to enjoy themselves. Heaven knows that you definitely deserve a vacation,” you exclaim, plopping down beside him.

“Right, so how does Hosea expect us to be able to afford all of this? I mean, we’re not exactly rolling in cash right now,” Arthur sighs.

“Hosea gave me this,” you announce as you untie the top flap of the satchel,” It’s $500.” Arthur’s eyes go wide in response to what he sees.

“But how? We can’t just accept this. What about the gang?”

Arthur rambles on for a bit before you stop him.

“Arthur Morgan,” you state sternly,” this gang has taken almost everything from you. Hell, they probably owe you more than this for all you have done. If you can’t accept the money or the trip for yourself, then just do it for me.”

Arthur nods as he lets the words sink in. You know he’d do anything for you. He’d leave everything and just walk away from the gang if you asked him to.

“Okay. For you. So where do you wanna go?” you ask. Arthur wraps an arm around your shoulder before pulling you closer to him.

“Anywhere as long as I’m with you, Mrs. Morgan.” —--------------------------------

The both of you decide to start your trip by heading out west. While its vast expanses and beautiful scenery are alluring, the lack of people also proves to be the bigger selling point. Fewer people mean there is less of a chance that you or Arthur would get recognized.

That evening, while Arthur is finishing up a couple of tasks around the camp, you work on packing all the essentials, which for this trip, is basically everything the both of you own, not there is that much. You hear someone cough outside of your tent and you turn to find Hosea leaning up against one of its posts.

“So you two make a decision on where yer going to go?” Hosea asks as he folds his arms across his chest.

“Yes, we are heading out West,” you explain as you step closer to him, offering him a wide grin. Hosea nods in approval.

“Good. Lots of space out there. Bess loved when we would go in the spring, she always enjoyed seeing the flowers,” Hosea sighs, a twinge of sadness creeping into his words. You give him a moment to reminisce before asking the question that is on your mind.

“Hosea, what happens when we get back and don’t have any money from the supposed job?”

Hosea just chuckles a little before he replies.

“Mrs. Morgan, do you really think that your husband would let the two of you come back empty-handed?” Hosea replies. He makes a good point. If you know Arthur, and you do, seeing as you are married to the man, always has some sort of plan brewing in the back of his mind at all times.

“Just don’t let him work too hard. This is a vacation for him after all,” Hosea smiles but his words are interrupted by a coughing fit. Sadness strikes you as you watch the man double over, and you move to help him take a seat but he just waves you off. After a moment, Hosea manages to get control over his lungs and stands back up. The exhaustion in his eyes is clear.

“Now if you just happen to find yourselves in the position that you can do so, why don’t the two of you scope out the area to see if there is any place that would be a good area for the gang in the future,” Hosea mentions as brings a hand up and rubs it against his chin,” I ain’t got much time left and I just wanna make sure the gang is in a good place before I go.”

You nod solemnly, understanding just how much this gang means to Hosea, Arthur would be the same way if he were to be in a similar position. You quickly push the thought of losing Arthur far from your mind as

“Oh, I forgot to ask. How did it go with Ms. Grimshaw?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“It wasn’t pretty but Dutch and I didn’t really give her a say in the matter,” Hosea chuckles. You have to smile to yourself, you know how stubborn the woman can be. However, you doubt the camp would even be able to make it without her.

“Everything alright?” Arthur asks as he approaches the two of you.

“Just finalizing the last details. You choose a great place to go, Arthur. Fresh mountain air, clear skies, a place to really relax,” Hosea announces as he pats the man on the back,” well I best get a move on and let you two finish your packing.”

Both you and Arthur say your goodbyes to Hosea before you turn around to resume gathering your things. Arthur walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you back against him.

“You happy?” Arthur hums before placing a kiss on your neck. You sigh a small ‘uh huh’ as you relax into the man’s touch.

“Good,” Arthur responds as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck,” I really need a vacation.”

The next morning the two of you get an early start, heading out of camp just as dawn is breaking. You had said your goodbyes to the others the previous evening, so there was no need to wait on them to wake up.

It was going to take you a couple of days to reach Colorado, so you had planned a couple of stops on the way. The first was in the town of Strawberry, and you were able to reach it by mid-day. You were already a little tired from the ride, so Arthur decided to go ahead and rent a room for the two of you. The plan was to rest for an hour or two before doing some supply shopping around the area, however, those plans quickly change when you see the hungry look in his eyes.

As Arthur is paying for the room, you look over to see his intense gaze upon you. Those icy blue eyes are almost predatory. He wants you. You feel the first hints of arousal gathering in your core as the two of you remain locked in a stare.

Arthur has no idea what got him going, but he sure as hell isn’t going to complain. Maybe it was the thought that he finally has some time alone with you, no chance of being interrupted by the gang, no responsibilities to uphold, just you and him with the freedom to do as you please.

You smirk at him as he strides over to you after receiving the key from the hotel staff. He grabs your wrist and has you follow him up the stairs to your room.

*****************************************************************

You barely have time to walk through the door to your room before Arthur slams it shut and locks it. Turning back you see the look in his eyes is wild and hungry. You know what that look means. He wants you and he’s going to have you.

Arthur drops the saddle bags to the floor before he crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is desperate, you feel his tongue explore your mouth as he backs you up against the bed. The both of you flop onto the bed when your knees hit the back of the frame. You let out a little squeak at the feeling of Arthur landing on top of you. Arthur pushes himself up onto his elbows so that he is holding his weight instead of you.

“Sorry darlin’,” Arthur murmurs as he pulls away from the kiss before beginning to place hot, open mouthed kisses along your jawline. A moan escapes your lips as you feel his hand wander over your body, as he fiddles with the buttons of your blouse.

“Damn it!” Arthur growls when he has to pull away from your jaw to focus on the buttons keeping him from feeling your soft skin in his hands. With all of his focus being on the blouse, Arthur quickly manages to remove the shirt. He feels his cock stir in his trousers at the sight of your bare skin before him. Arthur helps you to sit up as he finishes removing the blouse and your chemise. You gasp as you feel his calloused hands begin to caress your tender skin.

You feel the rough scratch of his stubble as he gently places kisses onto your breasts. As his mouth showers one breast in attention, his hand attends to the other, pinching your nipple in between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation has you moaning out his name and arching your back. You feel yourself grow even more damp with the action and you rub your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the ache there.

“Arthur,” you muse, causing Arthur to look up into your eyes,” I’m supposed to be takin’ care of you on this trip.”

You know Arthur gets off on giving you pleasure, but you still can’t help but feel a little guilty for just laying there under him, doing nothing.

“Oh darlin, you really wanna please me?”

You give an eager nod. A smile spreads across Arthur’s face as he brings one hand up to cup your cheek before he positions himself so that his mouth is right next to your ear. ,” if you really want to take care of me you’ll just lay and let me hear those moans while if fuck this sweet little pussy.”

Arthur emphasizes his words by rubbing his hand against your clothed core. The combination of his words and movements have you whining pitifully underneath him. His trousers are painfully tight, the feeling of his hard member pressed up against your thigh has him desperate. After his battle with your blouse, Arthur decides to forgo the removal of your skirt.

Arthur grunts as bunches up your skirt so that he can access your core. You let out a moan as you felt him sliding two fingers into you. Normally Arthur would take his time, slowly teasing you with fingers and mouth before finally giving you what you wanted, but today was different. Arthur was fucking you with his fingers roughtly as he nips at your collar bone. You can hear him fumbling around with his gun belt with one hand while his other continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. You have one hand fisted into the sheets while the other grasps as his shirt. Arthur tosses his gun belt off to the side of the bed before working to undo the front of his trousers.

A groan escapes his lips when he manages to free his hard cock. He gently removes his fingers from your center, causing you to whine a little at the loss. Arthur chuckles at the sound.

“Oh don’t you worry darlin’,” Arthur smirks as the words leave his mouth,” I’ve got something that I think you’re gonna like a lot more.”

You wiggle your hips to signal that you’re ready for him, but to your confusion, Arthur gets up off the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see what he is doing, before he grabs your calves, roughly pulling you to the edge of the bed. You hold your bunched up skirt out of the way as you watch Arthur position himself at your entrance.

“Alright, hold on,” Arthur instructs as he brings one of your hands up to wrap around his neck. What does he me by—

Your thoughts are interrupted by Arthur thrusting into as he wraps his arms around your back. He’s a big man and he knows it so he gives you a few moments to adjust to his size. The stretch of him has you closing your eyes and fisting both hands into the fabric of his shirt. Arthur’s thumb rubs soothing circles on your thigh as he coos praises at you. Telling you that you’re such a good girl and that you're his good girl. You squeak as he lifts you up into the air and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. Arthur doesn’t start slow. He starts railing up into you at a punishing pace. The feeling of the rough fabric of his shirt against your naked breasts adds to much sensation to the already overwhelming pleasure. The gasps and groans of the two of you can be heard echoing throughout the room. You are glad that it’s midday so not many people in the hotel can hear your love making. Arthur walks the both of you over to a wall and presses your back against it, this gives him the opportunity to move his hands down so that he is supporting you with one hand on your rear and the other tightly gripping your thigh.

The angle of his thrusts has him hitting your g-spot with every movement. Arthur can feel your slick leaking out onto his trousers as he continues to fuck you. You move your hand so that it is buried in his hair. You give it a little tug to indicate you want Arthur to lean in for a kiss. Arthur gently places his lips against yours. However, the kiss is anything but gently, you lightly bite at this lower lip, causing him to growl. He increases the ferocity of his thrusts as he continues to kiss you.

“Ah Arthur,” you moan as he continues to fill you.

“You like this. I know you do,” Arthur purrs in your ear. You can feel the tell tale signs of an orgasm approaching as the heat in your core begins to coil tighter. You attempt to give your clit some sort of friction by grinding yourself against Arthur, but it is impossible at this angle. However, Arthur must sense your frustration, he braces you against the wall before snaking one of his hands in between your bodies. It takes him a moment to weave himself under your skirt before his hand finds its way to where the both of you meet. You let out a long groan as you feel a calloused thumb beginning to rub a small circle against your clit.

Just as you are about to reach your peak, there is a knock at the door. “Damn it,” Arthur whispers, remembering that he had told the hotel staff to bring up some water for a bath. Arthur slows his thrusts but doesn’t stop, only pushing in about half way before pulling out and repeating the motion. You clamp your hand over your mouth to keep from moaning.

“Just a minute!” Arthur calls out as he begins rubbing your clits harder. This causes your orgasm to wash over you. Your legs shake in his grasp and you have to bite your lip to keep from making any noise. Arthur pulls out and quickly sets you down on the bed before throwing a blanket over you. He tucks himself back into his trousers as he walks over to the door. He opens it and takes the two large buckets of steaming water from the bellboy standing there. Arthur thanks him before setting the buckets inside of the room and closing the door behind him.

“Everything good?” Arthur smiles, watching you trying to catch your breath. He carries the water over and pours it into the small wooden tub in the corner of the room. You watch as steam begins to rise up from the water before you answer Arthur.

“Yes. What about you?” You question as you begin to throw the blanket off of yourself. Arthur makes a motion, indicating for you to remain in place. Arthur walks back over to stand next to the bed before cupping your cheek in his hand.

“He’s coming back with two more buckets of water. Don’t want him seein’ what’s mine,'' Arthur purrs as he lightly strokes your jaw with his thumb. Just as expected, there is another knock at the door. Arthur once again answers it and retrieves two more buckets of water along with some towels and soap. This time he locks the door when he closes it. While he adds the water to the tub, you stand and finish undressing yourself before walking over and stand behind Arthur.

“Now let me take care of my husband,” you coo as you run your hands down his back gently. Arthur groans at the touch,” whatever ya say darlin’. I’m all yours.”

You smirk as you walk around to the front of him, hand still trailing along on this body. Your hands begin undoing the buttons of his shirt as his hands message the meat of your outer thighs. Moving to his suspenders after you finish with his shirt, you manage to unbutton them quickly. You gently push him down until he is sitting on a small wooden stool. You sink to your knees to first pull off one boot and then the other. One of your hands brushes against his hard cock as you undo his trousers. He moans your name in response. He stands back up to allow you to remove his pants. You have to take a moment to admire his large thick cock before continuing.

“Hop in,” you say, gesturing to the tub.

“What about you? Aren’t ya gonna join me?” Arthur asks as he steps one foot into the warm water.

“Maybe but there’s something I want to do first,” you explain as you walk over to grab the soap and towel left sitting by the door. Arthur lets out a pleased sigh as he slowly sinks into the water. Arthur dunks his head under the water and comes back up, wiping away the dirt from his face. You move the wooden stool so that it is sitting beside the tub before having a seat on it. Arthur leans back and closes his eyes as he feels himself relax.

“Feel good?” you question as you lather up some soap in between your hands. Arthur just hums in response as he feels your fingers run through his wet hair. You begin to gently massage the soap into his hair, you can feel his muscles ease up as you begin to trail your hand down to his shoulders. You continue with your message as you knead the tension out of his biceps.

“Feels good,” Arthur mumbles as your hands continue to work on him.

“Good,” you coo in his ear as you get off the stool and onto your knees. This way you can reach deeper into the tub. Arthur groans as he feels one of your hands moving lower. You follow the hair on his chest down to where you were planning to go all along. Arthur gasps and opens his eyes as you gently wrap your fingers around his hard member. You just shush him and encourage him to close his eyes again.

“Let me take care of you.”

Arthur's eyes slide shut one more as you begin rubbing his cock with your hand. You make sure to give the sensitive head some extra attention by rubbing your thumb over it on every up stroke. Arthur’s hips begin lightly thrusting up to meet your movements.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts as he feels himself getting closer. You speed up your movements.

“Come on Arthur, be a good boy and cum for me,” you whisper. Arthur nearly doubles over as he cums hard. Ropes of thick, white cum land on his stomach as your name falls from his lips.

“I love ya darlin’,” Arthur pants and he tries to catch his breath after such an intense orgasm.

“I love you too,” You reply as you caress the stubble on his cheek before reaching over to grab a washcloth. Arthur smiles as he watches you wipe away the traces of his orgasm from his chest.

*****************************************

“You gonna join me?” Arthur chuckles as he offers you a hand to help you into the bath.

"Sure you won't be too cramped?" You ask, hesitating to take his hand.

"No. I'd actually be offended if you don't get in here."

With this you take his hand before you step into the tub. Arthur has a leg on either side of your body as he pulls you flush against his chest.

“Besides,” Arthur explains as he starts to massage soap into your hair,” this is your vacation too.”

The warm water eases the tension in your muscles and you allow your eyes to flutter closed as you lean your head back, resting it on Arthur.

“See, I was right. Now just relax,” Arthur coos in your ear. He hums as he continues to lather your body in soap.

The both of you remain seated in the water until it turns cold before deciding to get out. As you dry off your legs, you turn to find Arthur smiling at you.

“Do you mind?” you giggle as you continue to rub your body with the towel.

“Not at all,” Arthur smirks before walking over to you. He places a gentle kiss on your head before resuming the task of redressing.

Oh this will be a fun vacation.

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

Thanks for reading. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. As always feel free to comment or message me with any ideas for future works or just pop in to say hello.

354 notes View Post

julietta67

2 years ago

Harsh Directive

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Summary: Holy shit this Drabble took way too long to make.

Word Count: I don’t even know.

MASTERLIST | Simon “Ghost” Riley

WARNING [blindfold, fingering, orgasm denial, rough sex, doggy style, creampie, creaming, slight knife play, slight choking kink, long drabble]

Operation: Via was a success.

The harsh week of cold and rain had settled in your gear nicely, your firearms in desperate need of a cleaning, and your knives looking pitifully dull. Your skin felt dry, covered in a layer of grime from not having a shower in so long, and your hair was definitely greasy, and flatter than when you had left. You needed a wash, some food, and resting time to get yourself back in order. Sure, the carrier gave you two of those three things, but the comfort of base was calling your name and singeing itself well into your brain; your own bed, your own food, your own— well, semi your own, shower— were the only things that would satisfy you, and you were willing to wait the next 3 hours of flight to reach your gratification.

You silently sat with your arms crossed and legs spread, leaning back into the aisle chair while purposefully pressing your back into the buckle to keep yourself in discomfort. You were refraining yourself from dozing off, maintaining a kink-free neck and back from the horrid sleeping posture you would surely put yourself in; you refuse to go through that torture ever again — training with a sore spine was a bigger pain than what you had anticipated, and the aftercare was difficult to manage when it’s just you massaging the bolts out of your neck and back. You grimaced at the memory of barely being able to climb out of bed and slide your uniform on, slowly gazing up to the roof while holding in a chuckle from the next flashback of almost falling while shoving your pants on.

Your eyes fixated on the lights above that lit the fuselage in a dim glow, aircraft nets swinging gently with the plane and knocking on the walls with soft clatters. It was quiet, unusually quiet, until you heard a loud snore croak in front of you and being followed up with another. Quirking a brow, you turned your attention to your front and on Gaz and Soap, who were completely knocked out in the seating across from yours. Gaz’s arms slumped crossed, and had his head tilted down to his twined legs, while Soap was widely spread and fully tilted back towards the ceiling.

Had it been any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the sight of their drooling faces and horrible postures, but the overwhelming drowsiness took over your complete being and left you oddly calm and collected. Just the sight of them made you envious of their sleep, but you would rather be safe than sorry in the long run during one of Price’s excruciating trainings. You blinked slowly away from the sight and to the cockpit doors, fighting the urge to nod off and instead pinching yourself with your vest’s clasps.

“Arrival will be in two hours. Weather is gloomy with possible heavy rain, so prepare for a stroll, lads. Again, arrival will be in two hours. Out.”

Price’s voice disturbed you aware, leaving you a bit more alive and conscious from the startling overcom. The static undertone helped waken your eyes as you heard it go in and out, tired tears pearling into your lashes from the sudden energy surge to stay aware, and soon being wiped away by your scarf. You felt lightly gleeful that home was so close, only needing to remain awake for— counting the time it would take to walk, as well— 2 and a half hours. You could do that.

A small smile formed on your lips, a hand bringing your scarf up to cover it and allow the subtly present scent of your detergent to sink in through your nose. Home. You were going to be home. You wouldn’t have to smell like dried blood and muddy earth anymore, or have to wear it on display. Until your next mission, of course. Either way, you were just glad you’d be going to base soon, and get the well deserved rest you needed.

A rough shot of cognizance rattled through your spine, your hands stiffening and the smile you had deflating as your hairs stood at attention. Your left side felt completely vulnerable all of a sudden, and you felt deeply discomforted by the abrupt exposure, now shifting in your seat to gain some comfort back. Your whole side burned. You felt every layer of protection cease to exist under the blazing stir that set on what felt like your very skin. You were being watched, and definitely not with sweet eyes.

You didn’t need to guess where it was coming from, or who the unforgiving glower belonged to — Soap and Gaz were out, and Price was in the bridge, so that left one out of the four personnel that could be watching you like an angry hawk. And to think you would have a happy time home.

You knew you wouldn’t get away with the stunt you pulled, despite hoping he would brush it off eventually. How could he? He never neglects your wrongs. He never lets your blunders slip by. He never forgets.

You knew it all too well.

Let’s just hope you make it out alright this time.

You were in deep shit the moment you set foot into base. The way your name instantly shot through the room when Ghost snapped for you to come see him tensed the whole squad, already knowing what the issue pertained to. You didn’t need to look back to acknowledge they were all sending weary eyes your way.

“I’ll get your whiskey ready, Hops.”

“Thanks, Soap. I’m gonna need it.”

Taking your time to get to the door, you threw your gear into a room on the way and let your hair down from its bun. The tingling sensation of your relaxed scalp gave you a short peace of mind as you massaged the sore muscles and succumbed to a false happy place. You thought of all the nice things you’d partake in now that you were home — a nice shower, some cooked food, and your own bed to nap in now that there were no missions to fling yourself into. How you would all sit around the living room and converse about stories of the past, like how they got their scars, type of thing, as you drank the better-than-nothing whiskey for where you were. Ghost barked gratingly for the second time, his voice sharper, louder — filled with impatience, and knocked you straight out of your comforting haven. You felt your nerves pile onto the tip of your tongue, biting your lower lip to sooth the hard beating of your organs, and making your way to your superior.

You passed through the living quarters and down the long hall towards the debriefing room, quietly wishing you could turn around and pretend like you didn’t hear as you watched the comforting bedroom lights glow teasingly into the corridor. You had blinked, just once, and magically appeared in front of the open door that led straight to your doom. You were an anxious mess, fumbling with your gloves as you pulled them off and set them on the counter just beside the door. Taking a deep breath, you began to reason with yourself, mumbling incoherent encouragements to get you to go into the room and power your way through whatever he would yell at you for. Come on, White, you got this. At least you aren’t at Death’s door.. I hope.

The door slammed shut behind you when you had eventually entered, your heart stammering from the harsh snap of wood-on-wood. It felt like you had left reality and entered the dark dungeons of Hell from how drastic the atmosphere shifted. Not even the light felt the same as it blinked inside from the covered windows, nor the speckles of dust that would cascade down to the floor. You focused on your breathing despite your lungs want to collapse from the underlying fear that now set the scene. They practically did when you felt the looming presence of a ghost standing just a few feet away from your back, and deathly silent rage surrounding you like a cloud of toxin.

You need to relax.

You grazed your eyes over to the center table, signature black gear already laid across it with dissected guns and removed armor plates. They looked to have just been cleaned and reapplied with oil, but the finish looked rather rushed and almost careless from how he set every part across the counter. The sight made a cold shudder slither up your spine; Ghost always took care of his artillery, never using rushed hands and little thought when cleaning and placing pieces. You had gotten to him. Bad.

You tore your eyes away from the table and burned them straight ahead, the sound of heavy boots slowly prowling close catching your attention and flooding your veins with mixed apprehension. You recognize that gait, know those boots. Oh fuck..

There was a clipping sound paired with rustling fabric before you saw his vest get tossed by the table with a loud clatter. You flinched at the raucous noise, standing even firmer at attention despite the soft look you tried to portray and mitigate your angered superior.

“Would you like me to put your stuff away with mine?” You asked with a built sweetness. What good would this do? Dig your grave a little deeper? Might as well and try to knock two birds with one stone; ease the tension, ease the Lieutenant.

“You defied a direct order.” He uttered, the underlying reverb in his throat startling your overly aware nerves as his boots heaved on the floor with every step behind you. He had yelled at you, demanding that you fall back on him and not pursue the objective. “White Rabbit, if you take another bloody step into that building, I will personally suspend your ass for a full week. Do not engage.”

You grimaced at the failed attempt to improve the situation, your shoulders tightening and your hands becoming clammy. When you saw the back of his cotton warmer, his steps ceasing after appearing meters in front of you, you audibly sighed, “If we didn’t get those vials then, we would’ve never been able to ransack like that again.”

“I don’t give a bloody fuck,” His tone reached deep into his chest, his head snapping just barely to the side. It was a silent command to stand and shut the fuck up.

You snapped your mouth closed, watching as the Lieutenant peered down to a hand and flexed it out to rid the tension in his burly toned arm; he looked as if he would be flexing out claws, his large hands twitching from the urge to grab you and slam you against the wall to teach you a lesson. He was shaking, even just slightly, and was positively fuming for your disregard of his command and jumping straight into a no-coms zone. He had no clue if you’d come back to him either just as you were, or in a fucking casket. “If I see you dead, (Y/n), I swear to whatever bloody fuckin’ god is up there that I’ll be proper fuckin’ shit-pissed. Stay alive. Don’t you dare come back to me strung up in medals.”

He turned fully towards you, his broad frame blocking the incoming light from the window behind him. You looked two sizes smaller than Ghost — his body could fully cover you from view — the size difference enforcing intimidation without even mentioning his burning anger.

"I gave you an order, White." He stalked towards you, every agonizing step forcing you back on instinct, "You don't just ignore your superior's orders— especially not in this line of business."

You bumped into something solid and stopped, your eye contact with the black-suited soldier imposing on your soul and bleeding out with your incoming submission, "I'm sorry, Ghost, I really am. But if we didn't get those vials—"

His fist slammed right next to your head and into whatever you backed up against, your words hitching in your throat as a cracking noise came from the object behind you.

"This isn't about those fuckin' vials, Rabbit."

You felt your heart practically rip out of your chest with every beat, your eyes wide and your hands pressed flush against the now cracked wall with your back. Your mind screamed at you to run away, acting on your prey instincts from the threatening presence in the room. Yet, you remained silent, unmoving as the Lieutenant’s eyes bore into yours, daring you to take a step away like he knew what you were thinking.

“Do you remember what I asked of you,” Ghost pierced through your ears with an alarmingly rich sonorous hum, “when I had you flush against my door, right on your pretty little knees?”

You felt a boiling heat rush throughout your body, your eyes snapping open even wider in full awareness. The scent of cigarettes and husky cologne was more potent now that he was so close to your figure, a mixture of dirt and old blood evident in his musk.

It practically clouded your senses, a dazed look setting in your eye as the oh-so familiar scent plunged deep into your lungs, yet you still conjured up whatever shitty pride you had left against your dire situation, “Sir, please.. This isn’t the time.”

He grimaced down at your audacity, his accent flaring with obvious fire, “Fuckin’— Do you remember what I asked of you?”

You couldn’t hold eye contact any longer, your embarrassment overpowering your confidence and causing your head to turn away. Yes, you remembered. You remembered the whole ordeal.

The way he shakily purred your name as you bobbed your head up and down his length with soft teary eyes and a constantly bulging throat. How he forced a hand through your hair as he leaned all his built weight into the other, curling his body above you and into his skillfully tattooed arm as he stroked your locks carefully. This was different. This was sensual. He wasn’t rough, and his touches were all filled with the utmost delicate attention like he was handling one of his most precious weapons.

You let out a short, uneasy scoff, trying to divert the perverted memory, “What does that have to do with any of this?”

He flashed you a hard glare, your hope of him going along with your words disappearing instantaneously. When he knew you were firmly silenced, his voice cut through the quiet like a knife through butter, “I’m going to ask you one last time. Do you or do you not remember what I asked of you?”

“.. Of course I do,” You meekly gave in, your eyes scathing back up his body and to his gaze, “That was the last time we were alone together before Op: V.”

He gently combed his fingers through your hair as you continued to suck and lick, focusing on his veined v-line that kept going back and forth with every thrust of your head. He let out a rough groan as your tongue swept along the underside of his sex, his body visibly shuddering as he mumbled, “God damn it, love..” and gripping his supporting hand into a tight fist. He began to snarl incoherent praises, saying how good you were for him, and how he was so lucky to have you assigned under him as his rookie.

"Bun," He inquired, jaw clenching as his eyes gazed down at you with glints of abnormal longing, "Come back to me in one piece.. Stay alive, and play safe— bloody hell, please."

“Then why did you risk it?”

You curled your hands up behind you, looking at anything but him in an effort to ignore the question. You had no option, however, when Ghost called your name with a chilling rasp, your arms becoming littered with goosebumps as your hair stood on edge.

"It's.. It's just.."

You could feel his eyes spark with curiosity at your stutter, finding your nervous form a rare sight, and savoring it with every look over. Despite this, he remained firm with heavy superiority behind every word, "’s just what, White?"

".. I didn't want to get in trouble." You whispered, afraid the whole world would hear your confession.

The room went dead quiet, so much so you swore you could feel the air thicken and begin to choke you through each breath you took. Ghost had froze. He froze with a blank stare straight into your eyes, like he was processing word for word what you said. I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up, your mind repeated, never once breaking from his swirling gaze. You had no clue what he was thinking, what the subtle glints in his eyes meant as they showered around your body in tantalizingly slow look overs. You wanted him to say something, anything to keep you from basking in the silence and spiraling yourself into an overthinking mess.

You abruptly flinched as he pulled his head away from yours, his voice vibrating in a low pitch and deepening his accent, "What did you say?"

"I didn't want to get in trouble.." You repeated, gulping down a chunky lump in your throat.

He took another moment of pure silence before slowly peeling himself off you. You gawked after him as he went to trudge across the room towards his strewn about gear, looking through it with haste as you remained stuck to the wall. You stood in utter confusion, wondering what in the world was going to happen, until he snapped his fingers and pointed down by his side without giving you a single glance; "Here." You, of course, followed his instruction, and walked up quietly behind him to his side all the while picking at your fingers in nervous habit. You didn’t like not knowing what would happen next, and it seemed like everything he did was to play on your discomfort, taking his sweet yet rushed time to gather whatever he was seeking.

"Trying to get yourself out of trouble is what gets you in trouble. Fuckin' shit, White— you should know this by now."

You felt like a private all over again, being scolded by the second lieutenant during training for doing something slimly out of line, "I'm sorry, Ghost.."

He snapped his head towards you, giving you a scowl through his eyes like that was the last thing you should've said, "Sayin’ sorry won't fix anything when you're fuckin' dead."

You clamp your mouth shut as Ghost turned back to the table, pulling out one of his black cloths from a vest pocket. You were beyond anxious from each of his rushed actions, watching him flick the cloth out of its folds and holding it between his hands.

He turned to face you, watching you examine the black fabric in his hands with wide doe eyes, “Turn around.”

Without wanting to make matters worse, you comply and face your back towards him with a shaky turn. You hear his boots thud against the floor as he comes straight up to your behind, his close presence causing your back to feel oddly sensitive despite the zero contact. It worsened as you felt his firm chest graze your shoulder blades when he leaned forward, his breath seeping into your ear through his balaclava.

“Close your eyes.”

You felt a shiver creep nerve-by-nerve through your system, and how your whole spine became pleasurably tender from marinating in his close-up musk. Your eyes closed with the single flutter of your lids, your adrenaline accelerating from your lack of sight and creating a blissfully heavy sensation in your core.

You gently twitched when you felt what you assumed to be his arms graze past your shoulders, and place the black cloth over your eyes before tying it off securely behind your head. You didn’t dare remove it, and instead embraced the enhanced senses you were given, feeling every vein that split through and around his exposed forearms, and hear every low breath from behind his skull coverings.

“‘Only you were this well behaved on the mission. It’s really a shame, White.. qui-te the shame.”

You let your body tremble as his hands trailed painfully slow down your neck and to the dip in your back, his gloved fingertips grazing your quivering figure with rare delicacy. You relished in the rare attention, involuntarily leaning into his warmth with a soft, shaky sigh passing through your lips from the contact. You missed him. You missed all of him. His body was not something you could see yourself without, and that whole mission was absolute torture; running around to get the job done with little to no time with your ghost. The first night without him went fine, but after the second?

You were both aching for touch. It was becoming impossible to stay curled in your tents, and the overwhelming need for one another’s bodies burned your very cores with hot desire. One thing led to another and you both had your earbuds in, dialed on a private line, and letting yourselves confess your needy desires to the dark heavens above.

“Raise your arms above your head.”

You did as you were told, shakily lifting your arms straight up to the ceiling. His hands removed themselves from your sides and went for your wrists, bringing your arms behind your head and wrapping them around his neck. It stretched your body out nicely, his height forcing you on the balls of your feet and to the tips of your toes just to adjust with the position. Your fingers felt on something soft, something warm gliding under your tips as you stroked down the fabric material. The soft surface subtly rose with bumps as your nails lightly scratched what you remembered as his nape, feeling his locks peak out from under the balaclava, and gently feeling for it. A thick vein trailed up the side of his throat and caressed your exposed wrist, your pulse radiating with his at the sensation of his firm flesh. You were anxious, yet you could allow the Lieutenant to do as he pleased when he brought his palms down to your stomach.

You began dreading the blindfold, wanting to see everything he was doing to you, “Ghost.. Why do I have to wear this cloth?”

His tone reverberated along his throat in a growlish pitch, “So you can understand exactly what I saw when you went into that bloody building.”

“But I don’t see—”

His fingers dug into your v-line and forced a whimper from your chest, his voice burning low, violent, “That’s the fuckin’ point. I didn’t see anything, not a proper fuckin’ thing when you went into that warehouse.”

He leaned in close to your ear, his breath nipping against your shell with every hot exhale, “You’re going to feel exactly what I felt. You’re going to see exactly what I saw. Only you put yourself in this position, and you’re going to sit your ass through it just as I did.”

“Do I make myself clear, Sergeant?”

“Yes, Ghost—”

His grip tightened painfully through your warmers, a hiss falling with your sudden intake of air and shutting you up.

“It’s either yes Lieutenant, or yes sir.. You’ve forgotten your place, White, so you’re goin' to live in it until I see fit. So again, do I make myself fuckin’ clear, Sergeant?”

Had it not been for his leather gloves and your cotton warmer, you knew his nails would've punctured through your skin with how tight his grip on your body was. Did you wish that was the case? Abso-fucking-lutely.

You let his rough handling of you coax an answer from your lips as you finally gave in, your soft voice wavering in defeat, "Yes, Lieutenant.."

"Atta' girl.. Such a good obedient thing when you want ta’ be, ain't that right?"

Oh, if your insides weren't clenching before, they were definitely clenching now. It sounded so dirty, like he stripped you clean of any human title and dubbed you almost like a pet. The blindfold was tied snug against your eyes, unrelenting with how tight your heat was clinging to your insides, or how it made being called a good obedient thing by the predator behind you turn your mind into liquid. You could feel how his body encased your own, and how his skin was burning hot, muscles completely flexed and solid in restraint to keep himself together.

You sucked in a deep breath when you felt his big hands trail down to the buckle of your belt and slowly unclip it, "L—Lieutenant..?"

With a harsh tug, the belt came straight out of your pants and right to the floor, "'Won't be needin' this."

Picking up the bottom of your cotton shirt, he raised it up and over your chest, letting the hem rest messily along your collarbone as he pulled his hands fully off your body. You were stood right against his hard frame, your pants now unbuttoned and zipped down, and your pretty abdomen and covered tits on full display.

His gloved hands grazed down your neck and over your perking breasts, giving them little attention as he continued to trail his cold gloves along your warming skin. You wish he’d rip open your bra and pinch your nipples with unrelenting roughness, but when his leather palms glazed over your v-line, right over your panty line, you wiped that thought clean out of your head with a gentle sigh.

As if sensing your shifting emotions, he clicked his tongue and set his hands just on the hem of your cargo pants with a strict sneer, "Sergeant, keep yourself together."

You let out a shaky response, his firm command urging out a submission of acknowledgment, "Yes, sir."

“That’s my girl. My good, pretty little girl.. I think we should get started with your punishment."

His fingers made their way through your pants and straight to your clothed cunt, his gloves snagging gently against the silky fabric of your panties. His sudden assault caused a flinch to ripple through your body, your mind asking to any god above if this was truly what he said it would be right before he began his torture. You let out a soft squeak when you felt pressure begin to push against your covered slit, drawing small circles on the tip of your clit with his middle finger as it nestled right between your puffy cameltoe.

"Feels fuckin' good, doesn't it?" He murmured, keeping his other hand pinning your ass against his hips.

"Feelin' so right and perfect on my fingers.. Just how I felt when you followed and obeyed under my command like nothing could go wrong."

Noticing your pussy begin to grind against his fingers, he scoffed, settling his hardening arousal right against your ass, "Fuckin' hell..”

He let you continue to move your hips, his mask shifting right against the side of your cheek all the while he savored how your plump rear would shift and press against his thickening sex. He missed this. He missed you. How every morning you'd greet him with such warm eyes, and how every night you'd welcome him into your gushy insides with the most submissive pleas and cries. When you would whine and beg to be stuffed full of nothing but his thick cock, or when you’d put on something that begged for his instincts to grab you and taint your flesh and blood with nothing but him. It practically made him feral at just the remembrance.. But, as much as he wanted to indulge himself, Ghost knew he couldn't let you off the hook, not after firing him up and really showing how scary a tosser could be when it came to his woman.

"'s just like this, yeah? Seeing nothin', absolutely fuck all, and left with the pleasure of knowin' you're alright— knowin' you're in ear's length of coms."

With the increase of pressure on your hardened pearl, and the rougher grind of his large finger circling the pulsing nub, he began to push the little restraint you had on your voice, and forcing quiet groans and mewls past your trembling lips.

"'Felt so good— so fuckin' perfect, like nothin' could wrong me as long as you listened and stayed in contact."

All your mind could focus on was the overwhelming growth of slick and lust forming straight into your guts, and the death pulsing grip the Lieutenant had on your bruising skin. Your bucking hips became desperate, your need to feel your knot grow and snap intruding and releasing your lustful pheromones in the air like an animal searching for a mate— or better yet, to mate— and clinging to every little thing.

"And every single time you answered my call.. It was like music to my ears, Bun. 'Couldn't see you, yet could feel your hot breath right in my ear like you were fuckin' there, right stood next to me, just as it should've been."

You let out a strained gasp when you felt his finger push your panties away from your drooling cunt and forcing itself inside, the palm of his hand rubbing circles over your clit in his finger's stead. The grip you had on his balaclava disappeared, only for your fingers to run straight under the fabric and shakily grab at his hair to somewhat ground your slushing brain. His finger felt like it was stretching you out already, the leather glove aiding in the attack as his digit went in and out, curled and uncurled. You were getting drunk on just his hand, your back arching off Ghost's body as shocks of wrecking pleasure pulsed through your very bones.

A purr-like growl began to rumble inside his throat, his eyes never once leaving the sight of his hand stuffed down your trousers and finger fucking your weeping pussy, “It felt just like how you’re feeling now— so full and right. So euphoric to know you were right under the palm of my hand, and that nothing would come to stop us from getting home.”

You felt your tongue push past your lips when he injected another finger into your clenching hole, shoving right against your flexing cunt, “F—Fuck!”

His hand suddenly stopped moving, earning a needy whine from your pathetically crumbling body, “Watch your fuckin’ mouth, Sergeant. If I hear another swear out of you, I’ll leave you as the dumb mess you are right on that couch.”

You felt your eyes widen behind the black cloth, needy pleas and cries straining for his continuous touch, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll behave, I promise!”

With a cocky smirk, he gradually began to set his pace back into your sex, sloppy ‘thank you’s and ‘more’s croaking from your drying throat, “Good girl.”

Your hips began to spasm, the tight knot you’ve been craving for forming at a rapid pace as his fingers hit knuckles-deep into your cunt. Your eyes began to roll up and become half-lidded, drool seeping down the corner of your lip when you let out a short cry from your pussy suddenly quivering and gripping around Ghost’s fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, Bun— are you gonna cum already?” He mused, rubbing his palm harder against your hot clit.

You couldn’t even focus on what he was taunting over, being too caught up in the boiling heat that hit over and over against your insides. You were about to snap, your muscles contracting and retracting rapidly as your body convulsed. The hold you had on his hair was hard, your nails digging into his scalp with a vice grip, and the foggy look you gave to the blindfold screaming for release.

Ghost rubbed the hard edge of his mask right against your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your bruised hips in a forged comfort, “'Felt the same way when I heard you call in after my every order. How it felt so fuckin' warmin' to have you submit whenever I needed to hear your confirmation— without your daft tongue."

A harsh spike of snapping thread spread throughout your womb, flooding your lower half in fuzz and intense heat as your cervix quivered with every involuntary clench. You felt panic rise into your lungs, finding it harder and harder to keep your panting under control as you realized your ending point was being fucked out of you quicker than normal.

You slurred over every word, spreading your thighs out wider as your jaw began to tighten, "Cumming— Lieutenant, I'm gonna— no, I'm gonna—!”

His voice burled deep and rough, the accent you oh-so adored sounding like Satan’s damned temptation, “But then, oh then, did that comfort crumble right through my fingers.”

Just when you felt your eyes roll back into your head, your body fully prepared for your stuttering womb to snap, his touch disappeared in an instant, and the overflowing high that was soon to tip over washing away gruesomely fast. You were left empty, hollowed even, with how quick the change was as your body adjusted to being denied its pleasure. You were left in shock. What the hell just happened?

You could hear the devilish taunt of his voice as you glared into darkness with helpless teardrops forming in your eyes, “You really thought I’d let you burst, White? Bloody fuck, you’ve really been spoiled rotten.”

You sniffed as drops of your pearling tears fell from your eyes, “Th—That’s not fair..”

He couldn’t help the amused scoff that found its way through the mask, his hands grasping your luscious waist in a rough clutch, “'Didn’t tell you to talk.”

“I did what I had to do!”

He snapped, “Watch it, Sergeant.”

The commanding bark quieted your pleads, your sniffs and silent whimpers remaining as your only hope to get what you needed. You pressed your thighs back against his legs, trying to press more of your body into him as an offering, even going as far as to grind your ass against his dense arousal— you were acting like a bitch in heat, and it was getting to the point where even Ghost couldn’t see straight anymore from how slutty you were acting for his dick.

In one rapid moment, you could feel the leather covered fingertips hook around the front of your bra just milliseconds before it came ripping right off your torso. You gasped from his brute strength forcing your bra to come apart in his hands, the weight of your tits forcing out a small whimper of need before you felt the cool fabric of gloves cup the underside of your mounds in a firm hold.

"'Missed these slutty tits and how they fit into my hands just right. 'nd the way your nipples—" He finally brought his attention to your teats, giving them a painful pinch and pull, "— were always so excited to see me.."

You felt the hard skull covering press into the space between your neck and shoulder, listening to him take a deep inhale of your warm scent, "Damn proper perfection, and it's all for me to fuck and break."

You press further into his broad frame, your back flush against his snug fitted warmer. You couldn't get enough of him; you needed more with every passing second, and now with him practically milking your breasts with how he kept pulling and twisting your nipples, you were hopelessly in need of Ghost.

Your heart jarring to keep up with a healthy pace in spite of your embarrassment, you sputtered, "Please punish me more.."

A low chuckle vibrated through his chest, pulling his head back from your shoulder as one of his hands left your tit and grazed it up between your breasts to gently touch your neck, "Punishment isn't meant to be pleasurable, Sergeant."

You tilted your head to the side, allowing his fingers to brush against your pulse and lay comfortably around your throat, “I can’t help it when it’s you punishing me..”

He impulsively allowed his hand to wrap around your supple neck, that small ounce of control he had left finally splitting as his voice dropped down heavy octaves, "You're asking for it now, Bun.."

Swiftly, he released your throat and tore the blindfold right off your head, not giving your eyes a moment to adjust before grabbing onto the back of your bruising nape and pushing you towards the center of the room. You were tripping over your own feet to keep up with his large strides, your legs getting caught up with his in an intertwined mess. Your heart was beating in your ears and your mind was running wild with the varying scenarios that could play out right in this room like the many times before. You were practically dripping at the thought of being manhandled and fucked so stupid that you wouldn't be able to walk for the next few days— hopefully the next few weeks. You might even get your wish with how hasty he was being to get you into place just for him to abuse and litter with his crazed ardor. You brought your hands down to keep yourself steady when he finally got you into a comfortable spot; you were faced right in front of the coffee table, your eyes once again staring at his carelessly thrown about equipment.

Taking no more time to waste, he brutally shoved all his equipment off the table, and slammed your front onto the now clear countertop, breasts down, ass up. You gasped from suddenly being thrown around like a doll, hitting straight onto the wood with a slight bounce, and your pliable flesh rippling from the impact. You could feel the harsh coolness of the wood rub into your nipples, your breasts painfully aroused as your innocent nubs continued to tighten and perk.

In one jarring movement, Ghost had your pants down past your ankles, and your panties left disheveled on your blemished hips with heavy impatience. For the second time, he froze — even if it was only for a split second, you felt it. His hand flinched with a sudden stop against your naked thigh when he began to retract, and the hard breathing that echoed around the soldier had grown quiet for just that moment.

It was proper fucking magic. The way the straps of your underwear perfectly dipped into your glistening flesh, and how your puffy cameltoe was deliciously accentuated by the soft fabric of your cotton panties. It only made his mind spiral helplessly into a feral slop of what it once was, the remembrance of needing to punish you completely forgotten and thrown to the back of his mind. The hunger to ruin your full being was fucking with his brain to where even he was losing his cool.

Like countless times before, he retracted his knife from his chest holster and slammed the 11 inch MTECH right into the oak table, blistering up the surrounding wood layers. He engraved it right in front of your eyes, the brutal sound of the blade ripping straight into the countertop ringing in your ears as you watched his hand linger for just a moment to make sure you acknowledged it, before he let go of the tang with an agonizingly slow retraction — it was a warning.

An unclasping sound startled you out of your stare-off with his weapon, the noise of metal clinking together as his belt buckle laid lax against his thighs coaxing a noise out of you. You swore you were about to lose it when you heard him unbutton his pants, and the unzipping of zipper teeth graze painfully low behind your ass. He was drawing this out for as long as he could, and you knew it, too. From the amount of times he’s edged you, forced you to beg for what you wanted; to put it into perspective, you didn’t know how far gone you could go until you were once on the brink of passing out from the painful edging and needful crying, that’s how well you knew his tendencies.

The knife laid clattered with your torn lingerie, droplets of thick glossy honey dripping onto the long forgotten pile. Slapping of skin and squelching mush underlined heavy growls and sob-filled moans, the room filled with the damp smell of sex and pornish sounds of pleasure.

Through your broken cries, Ghost couldn’t help the snarl that rose from his throat when he felt your weeping cunt brutally hug onto his dick with need. He had lost himself the moment he sunk balls deep into your hole, letting his desire take full responsibility of fucking you till you were completely stuffed with all he could give. He became an animal, his only need being to shove you full with his cock in the most feral way possible. He needed to.

With a final harsh snap of his hips, the grip he had on your waist indented into your skin, and the hold that marked carnally around your neck dug even deeper into your pulse. He sloppily stilled with a small -plap- between your thighs, keeping flush against your raw sex as he took a moment to gather himself. Sweat lined your skins with a shear layer, heavily falling chests fueling the desperate pants for air that puffed against your exertions. You were on the brink of cumming, your pussy convulsing around his cock as you mewled quietly for him to let you release — this was the third time this round he stopped just before you could snap, and the many tears that drooled down your cheeks were evidence of such sin. You couldn’t even beg for it, you poor thing, that’s how far gone you were.

He shut you up with a violent slap on your plump thigh, earning a muffled cry as he made sure his pelvis pressed right into your clit insync.

“Ah ah ah, love— no whining for your fuckings, remember? You’ll take what I give you, and appreciate it like the proper sex whore you are.”

He drew out your orgasm for the next thirty minutes no matter how desperate you cried, or how fucked out you looked. He couldn’t bring himself to let you out of his room without making sure the only thing your body would remember was him and how he was the only one that could fuck you this good. No one could violently edge, or screw you dumb the way his dick could, and your body better fucking remember that.

You felt something hot glide right through your mounds, the moistened cotton of your panties dragging against your clit in slow, shuddering thrusts.

"Fuuckk.. Fuckin' Christ.." Ghost hissed through bared teeth, grinding himself firmly between your wettened thighs, "'Don't know how much longer I can take this.."

You could cry with how badly you needed him inside of you. It was becoming stressfully hard to keep back your curses and whines, and he was picking up on every little frustrated jolt your body made as he made it worse and worse. And it did worsen when you let out a choppy sob as you felt the warmth of his bulge pull away from your soiled underwear, your clit twitching in red searing need for his attention. It all washed away before you could start begging, when you felt a boiling hot heat prod against the very same bud, squealing out when you felt a warm substance smear across your panties up and down over the entrance to your insides.

His fingers hooked under your thin covering and pulled it to the side of your swollen lips, the cold air hitting your exposed inner flesh and causing it to spasm closed. You hiccuped with every passing breath, imagining what was waiting just mere inches away from your weeping hole; is it his fat cock, pulsing blue veins strapping up the underside of his painfully hard arousal? Or was it another teasing set of fingers to ready your cunt for his dick to bottom out inside you? He answered your question to the fullest when he pushed the bulb of his thick cock right between your folds, earning a shocked moan from your quivering lips.

Utterly pleased, he tilted his head back as he savored the way the tip of his aching dick began to slide back and forth against your sex, feeling every wettened, pulsing piece of your cunt. He ran a hand to the dip of your back as he carelessly hung the other at his side, pumping his happy trail with every slow, teasing roll of his hips against your ass.

A guttural sigh purred deep in his chest, one final 'Fuuck..' rumbling through his stitched balaclava before he stilled his hips, regaining some of his lost composure with every raspy breath.

"Time for the— hah..— main event, don't you think, Bun?"

You could only nod as an answer, your heart trying to steady itself while causing a lump to get caught in your throat. Your body was scorching, all too eager to get what you "deserved" and completely milk it for all you could. You were desperate for any friction, and it started showing as you settled your ass back on his twitching desire, small presses and shifting hips never once escaping his sharp eye.

He tutted his tongue in disapproval as he gave your ass a firm smack, letting his dense fingers sink into your plump rear and melt into your flesh, “Patience, little rabbit. All you have to do is say please, and I might consider giving you what you want."

You practically leapt at his offer, twisting your head back to face him with blown out eyes, "Please fuck me, Lieutenant! I can't take this anymore— it's been way too long since we've touched, and I need it! Please, please, please!"

Ghost couldn't help the chuckle that ran up his throat, pushing his glistening cockhead on your burning clit as he started to taunt your pathetic begging, "Who knew the stubborn White Rabbit could be taken down a few notches from just a bloody cock.. What would the team think?"

He slowly glides his fingertips up your spine, going straight from your Venus Dips to your delicate nape with taunting emotive trails of gentle leather kisses, “Not like that matters.. ‘Sides, if they even thought about my dangerous little bun all fucked out and sobbing.. Well, I can guarantee they’d rethink what Hell looked like.”

He leans down over your trembling figure, sliding a hand around to the front of your neck and keeping it in a snug grip, “I don’t give a fuck what the regulations say. You’re mine— all mine to adore..”

Your eyes began to blur with every word, ‘mine’ ringing through your ears like an angel’s love song. It sounded so comforting, so intoxicatingly beautiful that it would’ve brought you down on your knees to listen and hang over every lyric. It would’ve— should’ve been the case, except for the fact that in reality, it wasn’t a heavenly call, but was the Devil in disguise dangling your precious desires right in front of your face with every deep, luscious promise. Fucking Christ.. Who knew the Devil looked so good in black?

“Say it.. Say you’re mine, and I’ll give you my fucking cock to cry over just how you want.”

“I..”

You gathered your mush of a brain to at least spark some type of sense in you. You sputtered silent nonsense as you tried to please him, tried to give him an answer like the good girl you were. It felt impossible, but you managed with what little control you had over your dumbed-out mind, and responded with such a weak waver of song.

“I’m yours, Lieutenant..”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.”

In one violent push, his cock plunged to the root in your mush, a sickening smack of wet skin signifying your glistening pussy lips now trembling around his dense girth. Had it not been for his tight grip around your pulsing neck, you would’ve screamed— screamed in absolute pleasure of finally feeling him to the fullest context. Your attention remained glued to the knife, the shiny serrated edge glinting at you in mockery of your pathetic cry. But did you care? Absolutely not. Simon Ghost Riley was stuffing your cunt full of his dick for the millionth time this month, and you would never feel even the slightest bit of shame in taking him. You were infatuated. You were drunk on him. You were in love with him.

Just like how he was in love with you, his pretty little Sergeant.

Flexing his muscled back with a satisfied sigh, he ran his strong hands down your waist and held it in a deathly clutch, “You’re not allowed to cum unless I tell you to. Is that understood?”

You felt your lungs tighten as a breathy sigh passed through your lips, “Yes, sir..”

“Good fuck bunny. Such a lovely piece of fuck meat, just for me.”

Wrapping your hair around a knuckles-white grip, he slammed away at your gushing insides in pure animalistic rage, delicious feral fapping and squelching noises dragging him on to fuck you as he set off with no soft pace. You gasped out only to whine and moan against every hard slap of your hips, the weight of his dick pinning right up into your cervix tipping you over already— his cock was long enough to reach far inside your cunt and push delectably into that one weak spot that sent you reeling; thick enough to leave you molded, gapping the shape of his cock as a momento of who fucks— who owns your very being, inside and out. God, you were in pure bliss. Feeling this man every night in his bed has left this hole in your chest, something you couldn’t quite describe without thinking about him doing you in and touching every inch of your body. He’s left his mark on you, forever attached to a ghost that guarded from the shadows, yet a man that bedded you in nothing but his deep primal musk. The sensations of his carnal sin would never excrete; your body, mind, and soul would remember the way he tastes, feels, and fucks for the rest of your life. But was that really a problem?

He leaned his broad frame over your glittering body, making sure each thrust was passionate, invigorating as he intimately kissed your guts with wild heat. You felt his abdomen graze your back with every pull of your hips towards his exposed pelvis, the feeling of hot cotton and tightened muscles looming above your figure as he pressed you further into the table. You were small compared to his burly size, a single hand able to make home around your neck in a clasp that could still touch at the back of your throat. His thighs that kept yours spread were thick, thrusting against them in a firm stance to ensure they stayed apart and around his dense muscles. His torso.. don’t even get started on his torso. The tight fit of his black shirt perfectly accentuated every crisp line of his abdominal muscles, his strong ribs and sharply cut v-line pressing neatly into the fabric around every tensed ab. You were a lucky girl to experience such a deadly built predator like himself rubbing and fucking into your poor subordinate body. He was the size of an ox compared to you, a small bunny.

He growled lowly in your ear as he tugged your head back into his shoulder, “Don’t you ever disobey me again.. Don’t you ever— fuck— go under my authority again.”

Pulling you back on his dick, he slammed into you after every rough word, “Is.. -plap- that.. -plap- under.. -plap- stood?”

Your nails dug straight into the wood, pressing your reddening cheek into his stitched mask in an attempt to ground yourself, “Gnngh! Yes, sir!”

Without another word, he let go of your hair and allowed your head to rest on the cold wood, swiftly taking hold of your arms and pulling them back towards him in a single clasp. He released your bruised waist from his vice clutch, only to grab onto your shoulder and pull you back on his cock as he rashly snarled, “Take it.. Take this fucking cock.”

The tip of his dick deliciously fucked into your tight pussy, the feeling of his happy trail pounding possessively into your ass gushing out more of your stringy honey. He never let up on his assault, making sure you savored this just as much as he was; the way his cock relentlessly claimed every inch of your guts, and marked your pink in glossy white precum. And how with each passing second, your moans grew louder, unfiltered by anything to hold your pleasure back and overpowering his raspy curses and growls.

He starts coming back to himself, slowly but surely, as he drove his hips into yours in a constant state. He began to have the ability to appreciate how he sunk into your sex inch-by thick-inch with mild resistance of your clenching walls, and how your body would jitter perfectly against his when he thrusted just at the right angle. You were so delicious on his dick, trying to milk him for his worth with the vice-like clench you had on his pumping arousal. How he managed to survive the mission was beyond him, but the reward afterwards was all worth the wait as he could finally refill your hole with his veiny, heavy cock.

Tears prickled into your soft lashes, a small hiccup jolting through your ragged breaths, “Oh, God..!”

His hips slowed just enough to where your voice would calm down, taking your chin in a harsh grasp as he removed his hold on your shoulder and forced you to look over at him. His eyes burned holes into yours, clear utter possession and want flaring around his deep leather browns as he watched pearl after pearl streak down your cheeks from your cute butterfly wings.

“You know, it’s very fuckin’ rude to moan another man’s name as I’m bottomin’ out in you, even if you’re praying to God himself.”

With a low scoff, he whispered against your burning ear as he turned your head back to his knife, “Like he could do any better..”

Your stuttering apology slurred into nothing but noise, too fucked out to even try as your mind focused on how his dick twitched inside of you and dragged against your insides. The overwhelming heat of your sex piled and piled, getting far too scorching that you were on the brink of calling it quits. And yet, at the thought of having this end, you couldn’t bring yourself to tap out and return to your original home plan. You were drunk on his cock, the feeling of every pulsing vein and curve of his twitching sex throwing you further and further into the lustful fog at the back of your mind.

Your soppy cunt sucked and squeezed on his dick, your end drawing near with every slap of your coated thighs, and every desperate tug at your aching arms. Your womb burned with the need to snap, your legs shaking violently as your body begged for release, to reach that plain of ecstasy that would make you see fuzzy white. It was driving you mad, the denial to cum earlier ravaging your nerves like a powerful source as he continued to fuck you straight into the table. You were overwhelmed by all the cloudy sensations of sin— his smell, his dick, his chest, his mask— him. It was like biting into the forbidden fruit when you met him behind closed doors, your bodies colliding and dancing in the fires of your own desires as you gave in to your intrusive thoughts of the ghost.

It was likewise for the shadow himself, feeling the wrongs of behaving in such an inappropriate manner with his subordinate, yet being unable to look away from your innocent eyes as he passed by. To him, you were the temptation, the taboo. You were the forbidden fruit that God himself placed before him— a perfect little angel all for him to ruin and claim with every searing touch. He knew he was trapped the moment he gave in and took your body as his with a simple little graze of his fingers across your naked back. He didn’t mean to get attached. He didn’t mean to always come crawling back to your door that sat just across the hall. But he wasn’t dumb. He knew once that innocent little spark ignited in his cold chest, he had to have you. Call it fiction, but it was like fate for you to be his, just as it was his to be yours.

Sliding his hand away from your neck, Ghost pulled up his balaclava just above the tip of his nose before returning his grip to your blemished throat, “You’re going to— fuckin’ shit— cum all over my cock, and scream out my name like the good little fuck rabbit you are. Copy that.”

“Copied..” You moaned as your eyes scathed away from the knife, accentuating the 'e' with a short, fucked-out purr.

He groaned at your weak answer, shoving his clenching jaw into your neck as he looked up at your glistening face, “That’s— That’s my fuckin’ bun.”

As his need grew, he couldn’t hold back the feral upbringing of possession before he sunk his teeth into your flesh, only enough to leave a gruesome mark for your later discovery when you would clean yourself up in the showers. The possessiveness in his affirmation only made your heart flutter as your stomach did flips from how his voice thundered low in a lustful pitch before he laid needful claim on your neck. It didn’t stop there, either, as his teeth made your neck his personal canvas with deep love bites and purpling hickeys— you were his muse, and his muse alone to show off.

Pulling back from yet another hickey with a sickening pop, he placed his skull covered forehead right into your trapezius with a carnal snarl, “In or out, pet.”

You gasped out for a shaky breath of air against his rough thrusts, looking up into the ceiling as you arched your back in acceptance, “In!”

That was all he needed to hear, his pounding into your raw cunt becoming a feral mess of loud squelching and quickened slaps as his abdomen clenched and heavy balls tightened with the need to cum. You weren’t far behind, not in the slightest, as your mushy pussy began to spasm with your pulsing clit, your womb a burning fire that was ready to spread in an instant.

“Oh— cumming! Cumming, cumming, cumming!”

“Say it— say my fuckin’ name. Scream my bloody fucking name to whatever god is listening as you cum.”

That was it. You tipped right over the edge and screamed out his name, screamed out Simon. Your womb stuttered with each thread snapping and flushing throughout your core in convulsing heats, your hips bucking back into his as your eyes crossed up before fluttering shut. His arms quickly encased your body, wrapping around your waist and hugging you close as he fucked into you and coursed you right into overstimulation. With your arms caged under him, and your twitching figure forcing gurgled noises past your lips, he bottomed out inside of your cunt, sharp thrusts pushing every last drop straight into your womb and filling you to the brim.

Strained pants and groans puffed through the air as you came down from your highs, your legs shaking and possibly put out of commission from the restless fucking you had been given. The Lieutenant laid over your worn out body, resting his arms on the table to keep from piling too much weight on your small figure. He gazed at the mess of your spoiled skin from his markings, surging with pride over what he had done to his girl as his panting began to return to normalcy.

His attention snapped down to you, however, when he felt one of your soft fingers delicately trace along his tattooed sleeve, your eyes foggy while you looked over your shaky work. To keep his returning arousal down was a fucking war, but he managed when he noticed a gushing sensation ripple around his softening cock.

Ghost slowly sat up, running his hands over your sweaty skin to see what mess he had left between your quivering legs, and oh boy, did another war tear right through him when he saw that you had creamed all over his pelvis. His seed had began to spill out of your stretched hole, mixing with your own exertion as it traveled down your thighs and leaked straight from the source.

“Fuckin’ hell.. What a mess.”

You could only listen as he pulled out of your cunt, still keeping his form over your body in a protective stance just before he gently picked you up off the table and placed you on his lap when he sat in a chair. He pulled you close to him, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you finally managed to catch your breath and fill back with your lost sanity.

Stroking your back with a careful thumb, he peered down at you and spoke with a soft rasp, “You okay, love?”

You swallowed a forming saliva, wetting your dried throat before responding with a weak voice, “I’m okay.. I just hope they didn’t hear..”

Ghost couldn’t help the smirk that wiped onto his lips, “Oh, I’m sure they did. From the way you screamed my name, there’s no way they didn’t hear you creaming on my dick.”

You shook your head and nuzzled into his bunched shirt, sighing contently despite the sinful activity that just took place, in the debriefing room, no less, “God damn it..”

“Let’s go, MacTavish! You’re taking two minutes longer than last time!”

“Yes, sir!”

Price watched as Gaz and Soap wrestled around in the dirt, trying to overthrow one another as the spar continued. Ghost stood silent, arms crossed as he watched the two Sergeants have at each other, noting all their flawed advances and misses.

The Captain flashed his eyes towards his Lieutenant, gazing over his attentive posture before going back to the training, “Where is White?”

“I told her to sleep in for today.” He responded, eyes never once leaving the two men.

“I wonder why..” Price muttered, running a hand down his face with an amused scoff before returning it to his side, “You’re lucky I sent those two off to help with the luggage.”

Ghost just barely gave him a side glance, his own amusement underlying his blank stare before looking back at Soap tackling Gaz.

With a sigh of defeat, he shook his head as he crossed his own arms, “Your way of punishment astounds me, Simon.”

At this, he couldn’t help but let out his own thoughts, a subtle joking tone playing in his voice, “A little harsh directive time and again saves you the trouble, Price.”

“Yeah— saves me the trouble, grants you the pleasure.”

4K notes View Post

julietta67

2 years ago

Keep Going

Din Djarin x Reader (AFAB reader, no gendered terms used, just body parts)

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: The Mandalorian gets hurt while trying to capture a bounty. He comes back to the Razor Crest and you patch him up, making him feel better in more ways than one.

Can be found on ao3 here

A/N: I’m thinking this takes place before season 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Stop moving.” You tell Mando.

“It fucking hurts, Y/n.” He hisses as you clean the front of his wounded shoulder.

He wasn’t usually one to complain. Not like this, anyways. He’d just bite the bullet and suffer through the pain. But you could tell he was really hurting when he was verbal about it.

“I know. I’m sorry. Just let me take care of you.” You sigh, finishing cleaning his wound with alcohol before applying bacta spray.

He sighed with relief as the cool bacta met his skin, helping to numb the pain a little. You applied a gauze pad and taped it to him, standing back and looking at your work.

He was sat on the edge of his bed compartment, only in his helmet and pants at the moment. When he’d gotten back with his bounty, he was groaning as he put the criminal in carbonite.

You came down from the cockpit to see what was going on and saw how banged up he was. You helped remove his armor and boots and then turned away so he could quickly remove his helmet and shirt, turning back only when he told you it was okay.

You’ve been traveling with the Mandalorian roughly three weeks. He hired you as a maid of sorts. Doing all the menial tasks that were below his pay grade. Cleaning his weapons, armor, and ship. Keeping food stocked. Doing mechanical maintenance on the ship when needed, but he always liked to help with that part.

You put the med kit away and then turn back to him. You stare at his chest for a moment too long, then lift your eyes back up to his visor.

He was breathing hard, hands on his thighs, occasionally making a fist when a wave of pain washed over him. The bacta was fast. Just not that fast.

You step closer to him, now able to smell his woodsy scent. “Anything else I can do to help?”

There had been sexual tension between you and the Mandalorian from day one. That, you knew for sure. When he first interviewed you, to make sure you were the right person to hire, his handshakes lingered. He thought hard before each response to you. You’re pretty sure his helmet was tilted down just slightly towards your chest several times while he was questioning you.

“You’ve done plenty. Thank you.” Mando nods.

“A massage maybe?” You suggest quickly before he gets up.

He sighs. “It’s been years since I’ve had a massage. I would be grateful.”

“Alright, lay down on your stomach.” You smile at him and he does what you say, moving (slowly and carefully so he doesn’t hurt his shoulder worse) to lay down.

You admired his ass for a moment as he did so before climbing up into the compartment and straddling the back of his hips.

He lets out a long sigh as you do this, and you’re pretty sure he’s been touch-starved most of his life. In fact, based on what he’s told you about himself, you know it.

You start with his shoulders, careful not to press down on his injured one too much. You dig your thumbs in gently, repeatedly pressing them forward up the backs of his shoulders. He’s still breathing hard.

Your hands move down, gradually reaching his low back and moving back up.

He groans when you touch a particularly sensitive spot on his mid-back.

“Sorry. I can try and loosen it up. Or I’ll leave it alone if you want.” You offer.

“Please keep going.” He breathes.

You do as he asks, rubbing the spot in gentle circles to try and relax the muscle there.

You decide to dig a little deeper and you lean down, pressing your elbow into his back.

“Fuck.” He gasps.

“Shit, sorry.” You’re sure you’ve hurt him.

“Keep. Going.” He orders with a soft whine and you lean down once more.

You put your elbow against his back, pushing down and circling it. Mando’s breathing picks up, not harder, but faster. You watch as he fists his hands in the blankets by his head and it makes heat pool between your legs.

Once you feel the spot is relatively loosened up, you go back to using both hands to massage his back up and down. He lets out a shaky sigh.

“Don’t move.” He says quietly. Then he quickly turns over underneath you and-

Oh.

Mando is hard as a rock, pressed against your heat.

You gulp. “Are we doing this?”

He nods up at you, hands resting on your thighs for a moment before slowly moving them up over your hips.

You bite your lip and grind down against him, moaning softly. He lets out a low sound, gripping your hips. You rock them back and forth against his crotch, wishing there was less clothing on you both.

You pull your shirt and bra off and his hands come up to cup your breasts. He squeezes them lightly, kneading them and playing with them, making your eyes flutter shut.

His hands move down after a minute, unbuttoning and unzipping your pants. One of his hands goes down into your panties, quickly finding your clit and teasing it with his fingertip.

“Fuck, Mando.” You breathe out.

“My name is Din.” He says sweetly as he pushes a finger into your wetness.

“Din…” you moan, opening your eyes again, looking down at him.

“You look so good like this. Feel so good.” He groans, thrusting his thick finger in and out of you slowly. “So fucking wet for me.”

You nod frantically, grinding down against his hand. “All f- for you.” You whine.

“I know, sweetheart.” He hums and pushes a second digit into you.

You gasp and brace yourself, hands on his chest. If he keeps going like this, you’re going to cum on his fingers.

He starts thrusting them faster, making them dip deep inside of you each time. You dig your nails into his skin, “Oh, Maker, yes.”

Din growls up at you, his hips bucking once to remind you how aroused he was. He continues fucking you with his fingers, getting you closer.

“Gonna- I’m gonna cum.” You breathe out, jaw dropping.

“Cum for me, baby. Come on, you can do it.” He coos, encouraging you.

You squeeze around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, cumming hard and whining his name.

“Fuuuck.” He sighs, working you through your euphoric high.

After a few moments, his fingers slow down and eventually stop, pulling out of you.

His free hand lifts his helmet just enough for you to see his chin, then his fingers covered in your slick come up to his mouth. He sucks on them for a minute, moaning around them and rolling his hips against yours.

“Maker.” You gulp. He has fairly groomed facial hair. Not too much, not too little. You wondered if he’d ever take the helmet all the way off for you. But for now, you were satisfied with this.

He pulls his fingers away and lowers his helmet once more. “Knew you’d taste good.”

You bite your lip and smile softly.

“Take off the rest of your clothes, sweetheart.” He rubs your cloth covered thighs.

You nod and get up for a moment, quickly getting naked. You watch him as he pulls out his cock and strokes it a few times. You almost gasp at the sight of it. It’s a beautiful cock, you think.

Din pats his hips at you, “Come sit.” He hums.

You gulp and nod, climbing back on top of him. You hover for a moment as he lines up against your entrance. Then you sink down onto his hardness.

“Oh, fuck.” You let out a broken moan, lasting until you were fully seated on him.

“You’re so tight.” He’s panting, gripping your thighs as he watches you.

This was probably the most perfectly full you’ve ever felt. No other person or even toy could compare to how this felt right now. He was throbbing inside you as you lifted your hips and then pushed down once more.

His short nails managed to dig into your thighs as you did this, leaving little crescent moon shapes. You bit back a moan, starting a medium pace of thrusting your hips up and down.

He held onto you like you were going to float away if he didn’t. His head was tilted back right now and you could see his beautiful Adam’s apple and the edges of his sharp jaw. Maker, you wanted to kiss it.

You plant your hands on his ribcage, supporting yourself as your body rolled on top of his. You lean down and press your lips to his collarbone and he shivers.

“You okay?” You look up at him.

“Haven’t- fuck… haven’t been touched in so long.” He breathes out.

“Like I said earlier…” you trail off, kissing his neck. “Let me take care of you.”

Din whines as you start to thrust down on him harder, barely nodding in response so his helmet didn’t hit your head with how close you were.

He’s almost shaking now, holding onto you tightly. One hand breaks away from your leg, reaching to the buttons on the wall inside the compartment. He shuts the door and then turns out the light inside.

“Woah, I cannot see anything.” You laugh a little.

“That’s the idea.” He says and you feel his arms reach up, take off his helmet and set it down by his head before grabbing your face and pulling you up to kiss him.

You whimper into his mouth, pussy squeezing around him. You’re both panting into each other’s mouths, tongues swirling and lips teasing each other’s.

“Din, you feel so good.” You whine and kiss him hard.

He kisses back just as enthusiastically, one hand moving down your back to grab your ass. The other hand finding your clit and rubbing it in circles with two fingers.

You groan against him, thrusting faster and rubbing down against him. You feel your thighs start to shake as your second orgasm gets closer.

“Not yet.” He moans into your ear, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. Your eyes roll back in your head as you try to keep from cumming too soon.

“Almost.” He reassures you and kisses your neck, his facial hair making you tingle delightfully.

“Fuck.” You whine into his ear, not knowing how much longer you could go.

His hips start bucking up in time with yours, pushing somehow even deeper into you. “N- now.” He sighs as his cock twitches and he releases inside you.

As he fills you, your body goes into overdrive, second wave washing over you. “Din-!” You gasp, slamming down onto him hard.

He grunts as he fucks up into you, both of you gradually slowing. Once you’re both stopped, you stay on top of him, warming his cock.

“We should’ve done that weeks ago.” You sigh happily.

Din’s chest vibrates as he laughs softly. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh without the modulator in his helmet and you could really imagine getting used to it. But you tried not to get too far ahead of yourself.

“We only met a few weeks ago.” He hums.

You kiss him sweetly. “I know.”

786 notes View Post

julietta67

2 years ago

❅ title: christmas morning with the sawamuras

❅ pairing: dad!daichi sawamura x mom!reader

❅ wc: 1.1k

❅ warnings/notes: sfw. suggestive innuendo at the end. domestic fluff.

You hear them before you see them.

“MOMMY! DADDY!” the children yell as they run towards your bed. “WAKE UP!”

There’s the sudden mmffph that’s forced from your husband’s lungs when the first girl lunges herself on top of his once-sleeping form, followed by a loud groan when your other daughter dogpiles both of them. The girls, aged 7 and 5, are accompanied by their 2-year-old brother who isn’t quite big enough to toss himself onto your king-size bed. You hear him whine as he tries to climb his way onto the bed, so you sit up and reach for him, smiling sleepily as you pull him up to join his sisters in terrorizing their father.

“Daddy! Wake up! Mommy, help us!”

“I’m awake,” he grumbles, opening one of his tired eyes to look over at the window. “What time is it? It’s still dark…” he says, reaching for his phone to check.

“IT’S TIME TO OPEN PRESENTS, DADDY!” your middle child informs him before your oldest chimes in. “THERE ARE SO MANY! WE CAN’T EVEN SEE THE FLOOR UNDER THE CHRISTMAS TREE!”

By now, your little boy has crawled his way into your secure arms, both of you watching and giggling at the scene before you. There is a mess of little arms and legs and long, dark brown hair on top of poor Daichi. The love and adoration his daughters have for him is undeniable. He is technically awake, but not enough to satisfy the girls. The 5-year-old presses her little hands against his cheeks and squishes his face as she gets right up in it and yells into his mouth (as if that’s somehow going to make her louder), “DADDY, WAKE UUUUUUUUUPPPPP!!”

But it worked because now Daichi is laughing. “Alright, now you’ve done it!” he announces, his arms breaking free from the weight of his 5-year-old offender to tickle her sides as she tumbles onto the bed next to him in a ball of high-pitched squeals and laughter.

Finally, the children manage to drag their parents out of bed, the girls taking their father by the hands and whisking him away as your baby boy runs after them. You hang back long enough to put your cozy house robe on before walking into the living room where the oldest is ordering her Daddy to sit on the floor to watch them open their presents. After a big stretch and a scratch of his belly, he obliges. Even with messy hair and eyes watery with sleep, your husband is devastatingly handsome.

“Mommy! You sit there next to Daddy!”

“She’s almost as bossy as her father,” you muse to your husband as you make your way to the floor next to him.

“I’m not bossy,” he retorts groggily.

You raise your eyebrows at him and press your lips together to stifle the tempting ‘I told you so’ that desperately wants to be said when he starts laying down the law.

“Listen up, kids!” he says with a big yawn. “Here are the rules! All gifts must be handed to me first to see who they’re for! No opening each other’s gifts and no fighting over them either! Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” they all chirp in unison as you kneel behind him to drape your arms over his shoulders and kiss him on the cheek.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper in his ear with a nibble to the lobe.

“Watch it, angel,” he growls with a smirk before turning his focus back to your three crotch goblins.

“Go! Have at it!” he permits with a wave of his hand and immediately three gifts are eagerly shoved in his face. The kids practically dive under the tree like a bunch of wild savages, ripped wrapping paper and ribbons and bows flying every which way.

“Daddy,” your soft-spoken toddler says, holding out a box. “Help open, pwease?”

“Of course, buddy,” Daichi smiles, taking the box as his son sits on his lap. “Oh, babe…”

“Already on it!” you say, halfway to your bedroom to fetch his pocket knife from his nightstand drawer. Seconds later, you’re back, putting the tool in Daichi’s outstretched hand.

“You’re as handy as a pocket on a shirt, you know that?” he grins as you settle beside him on the floor again. “Thanks, babe.” He leans over to give you a quick peck on your smiling lips before turning to his little boy. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you sit in Mommy’s lap so I can help open your box, okay?”

“Nkay…” the boy beams as he climbs his way over to you. He watches intently as his father cuts through the tape before passing the box to him. His little hands awkwardly work the flaps open as his big, brown eyes widen when he sees what’s inside.

“What is it?” Daichi asks with excitement.

“PIKACHU!” he says gleefully, beaming as he holds the plushie of his favorite Pokemon up for his father to see.

Outside, the sun is breaking the horizon as you and your husband treasure the sight of your three babies as they chatter and shuffle about with the occasional squeal of delight and the steady stream of “Mommy! Daddy! Look!” that accompanies the presentation of every toy and game.

In the midst of the chaos, time seems to slow down when your husband scoots closer to you and pulls you into his lap, trapping you in his strong arms to brush his nose against yours and whisper “I love you”. You slot your lips with his to share a lingering kiss, broken only by your soft proclamation of the love you have for him.

You’re both smiling against each other’s lips when Daichi says, “Thank you, baby.”

“Mm…for what?”

“For them,” he mutters, glancing over at your happy kids before kissing you again, more deeply this time, sneaking in a little tongue.

“EWWW GROSS!!” The two girls protest at the sight of their parents. “They’re sucking each other’s faces again!”

You and Daichi laugh quietly, your romantic moment interrupted. “Such as they are,” your husband jokes, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re welcome, baby,” you chuckle, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Daichi waggles his eyebrows at you with a wicked smirk. “Speaking of which…I’ll give you your present later.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip seductively. “What is it?”

With a small shake of his head, he says, “Can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“Is it big?” you snicker.

He nods, his naughty grin growing wider.

“Is it hard?”

“Not yet, but it will be.”

“IS IT A BIKE TIRE??” your 5-year-old guesses loudly, sending you and your husband into a fit of laughter on the floor.

“No, honey,” Daichi wheezes, barely able to get the words out. “But your mom can certainly ride it.”

“DAICHI!” you scold, playfully slapping his arm as your writhe on the floor with him.

Your daughter looks on with confusion, but eventually shrugs and rejoins her siblings in their pile of presents.

31 days of daichi mlist | main daichi mlist | haikyuu mlist

❅ tagging: @chaoskrakenuwu @yuujispinkhair @luvkun4 @briokayama @mrs-sawamura @heroesfan101 @millenialfanfictionaddiction @lanaxians-2 @darthferbert @hannas16 @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @cookiesandmilksx @whinestonecowgirl @maexc @little-ms-awkward @samkysnks @anejuuuuoy @productivity-blogs @patheticliesblog @strawbmarma @lomons ++ get added

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julietta67

2 years ago

sweating bullets | john "soap" mactavish

summary: after a sparring session with soap, you find him up late at night and decide to do some late-night cardio

pairing: john "soap" mactavish x afab!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, oral (fem + male receiving), riding, needy soap

notes: this is a continuation of my "sparring" fic, but could also be read on its own :)

taglist: @cyberdecayed @wuv4eva @solarslushee

Sweating Bullets | John "soap" Mactavish

Soap would be lying if he said he didn't know why he was up.

He knew exactly why he was still up and it was eating him up inside. He kept tossing and turning in his bed, thinking about you. Thinking about how he held you down on the floor and how easy it was. He knew he was wrong thinking about this, it made him feel awful for the thought even slipping into his mind. He thought of himself as a pervert and would mentally curse himself out for even thinking about touching himself to the thought of you.

He had to get his mind off of it.

A sigh escaped his lips as he swung his feet over the edge of his bed. His feet pressed to the cold floor as he stood up and he put on some socks before going to his doorway.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly and adjusted to the dark room. It was the middle of the night, you knew it had to at least 3 am. You groaned as you tossed in your bed sheets. You threw them off of your body as you had to get up and use the bathroom. Reluctantly, you stood up from the side of your bed and yawned before walking out of your quarters.

You used the bathroom and washed your hands and started back towards your room. You stopped as you saw a light in the corner of your eye that seemed to be coming from the kitchen. Your eyebrows furrowed together in curiosity as you slowly walked down the hallway and made your way to the kitchen. You squinted and your eyes adjusted to the light as you got into the kitchen and you noticed Soap there.

"Sergeant?" You asked softly.

Soap almost jumped out of his skin when he heard someone speak. It certainty didn't help when he turned around and saw you standing there. His chest heaved up and down, still on edge from you scaring him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." You chuckled.

"No it's- it's alright." He says with a nervous smile. He swallows harshly and nods, still trying to get rid of his thoughts from earlier. It wasn't very easy when you were standing in front of him in pajamas.

"Can't sleep?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. He scoffed with a smile as he shook his head. "No." He said briefly.

"Nightmares?" You pressed.

"Not exactly." He says. "Did you have a nightmare?" He adds quickly.

"Not tonight." You say.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the scene growing more awkward by the second. "Are you hungry? Your stomach keeping you up at night?" You broke the silence and stepped closer to him, standing next to him at the counter as he looked like he was making a sandwich of some kind. "Uh - kind of. Thought it might take my mind off of things." Soap chuckled, looking you up and down from the corner of his eye.

"Really? What could be keeping you up so late, Sergeant?" You asked, turning to him with a smirk on your face.

All he did was scoff and smile as he turned to face you. Your smirk grew wider as you caught his attention. "A lot of things." He said in a gruff voice as you leaned your back against the counter. "Is that so?" You added and crossed your arms. He inhaled and exahled as he placed one hand on his hip and leaned on the counter.

"What's really on your mind, Johnny?" You pushed as you stood up and inched closer to him. He pressed his lips tightly together and looked down as he shook his head with a smile on his face.

"I could tell you but it wouldn't be appropriate." His voice was almost a whisper but you heard him loud and clear.

Even Soap himself was surprised by his comment. He didn't know why he said that and didn't know where he got the confidence from. Maybe it was the fact that he was still half-asleep or the fact that he is so desperate for your touch. You were a bit taken aback by his comment, not thinking he would actually admit anything, but you'd be damned if you weren't going to take this opportunity. You inched closer to him as you saw his nervous eyes looking into yours and down at your lips rapidly.

You took a leap of faith and pressed your lips against his and captured him in a sloppy kiss. A desperate groan escaped his lips the second you kissed him. You brought your hands up and wrapped them around his head, gripping onto his mohawk. Soap instantly wrapped his big arms around you and lifted you up and sat you onto the edge of the counter, not breaking the touch of your lips together. Your legs instantly wrapped around his torso and locked together, trapping him closer to you. He almost whined at your action and hand his hands all over you. "Take me to your room." You breathed out, breaking the kiss for a second. Soap instantly obeyed and had his lips back on yours as he wrapped his large hands around your body and lifted you up once again. Your arms held tightly around his shoulders, your nails digging into his shirt.

He walked slowly to his room, keeping his lips on yours, his mouth hot and desperate. He walked into his room and turned you around so that he could press your body against the door, closing it in the process. Your hand reached down and locked the door. He pulled your body away and made his way to his bed and laid you down, you still had your legs wrapped around his body.

"Is this okay?" He asked, breathing heavily as he broke the kiss and looked down at you for a moment. You chuckled and replied, "Yes." He clashed his lips back onto yours, moaning into your lips. His rough hands laid on your stomach and slowly sneaked under the hem of your shirt. He reached up under your shirt and his hands roamed up your torso, stopping to land one of his hands on one of your breasts. You gasped into his mouth as his hand squeezed your breasts.

Soap could almost cum from just hearing your moans, it made him weak in the knees. He pulled your shirt up and over your head to reveal your bare chest. This man was so in awe of every part of your body and wanted to enjoy every inch of it. His hands laid on your sides as his lips pressed against your jawline and slowly made his way down your neck and to your chest. He stopped at your breast and circled his tongue around your nipple. You whined and kept your hands tightly wrapped around him, your nails digging into the back of his neck.

"God fuck — you don't know how much I wanted this." He admits in a low voice.

You chuckled and breathed out heavily. He went further down until he was kneeling on the wooden floor. He grabbed ahold of your thighs and pulled you closer to him, he kept a tight grip on both of your thighs as he stayed between your legs. He lifts himself up for a moment to slowly pull down your pajama bottoms, along with your underwear.

"Fuck — " you cursed as you felt his hot breath inches away from your core. Soap reached his hands up to lay on your sides as he licked a stripe up your folds. You instinctively shuttered and let out a small whine, which was all a sign for Soap to keep going. He buried his face in between your legs, letting his tongue explore every part of your pussy. You gasped and laid your head back on the bed, gripping the sheets next to you tightly. Johnny ate you out like he had never had a meal before, like he was going to die if he didn't. He was desperate.

Your hands reach down to his hair and pulled on the strands of his mohawk. "Oh fuckin' hell." He cursed, you could feel the vibrations of his words on your folds. He brought one of his hands down from your sides to press onto your clit. He massaged your clit softly as sucked on your pussy. Your hand clutched over your mouth, not wanting to be too loud and remembering that there are other people in the rooms around you.

He pressed one of his rough fingers into you, you cursing out his name in response. His finger moved in and out of you as he kept his tongue moving inside of you. Your hips bucked up into him, causing a moan to escape from his lips as he pushed your hips back down.

"Please, Johnny — " you whined out.

Fuck, he could cum in his pants right there just from your voice and the taste of you on his tongue.

He continued at this pace, speeding up a bit as he added another finger into you, his thumb pressing up on your clit. You were close and he could feel it from the way you clenched around him. "Jesus — cum on my tongue, please lass." He begged, pulling his mouth away for a moment just to dive back into you. You cursed as you clenched around him even tighter and felt your orgasm approaching.

"Fuck, I'm about to — " you started.

"Yes lass, do it." He encouraged.

You bit your lip as you clenched tightly and felt a rush of heat hit you as you released. Soap moaned into your folds and sucked up your juices like he was starving.

Your chest heaved up and down as you were coming down from your high. You held you wrist over your forehead and a small smirk was plastered on your lips.

"Fucking hell." He cursed as stood up from his knees. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over you as grabbed ahold of the nape of his neck and harshly crashed your lips into his. He was a bit taken aback by your assertiveness but completely obliged. You pushed against him, wanting to have him on his back on the bed, to which he happily obeyed. You climbed over him and straddled his hips, feeling his hard cock beneath you.

You tugged at the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. His muscular abdomen almost had your mouth hanging open. You knew Soap was strong but the definition in his muscles still shocked you. You leaned down and kissed him again, your hands roaming over his chest, feeling every crease and scar on his body. You grinded your hips softly against his clothed cock as he whimpered into your lips. You moved the kiss from his lips, down to his neck, and then his chest. You kept moving down until you reached the hem of his sweatpants.

"Fuck — please, lass." He whined. You'd never heard this side of him, so desperate and needy. It was a real ego booster.

You bit your lip as you pulled down both his sweatpants and boxers to reveal his throbbing cock. You knew Soap was a big man, of course he was big in all ways.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft and pumped up and down a few times. He bucked his hips into you, cursing as he gripped the pillow behind his head. "You're so needy, Johnny." You teased as you moved your hand on his shaft. "Such a different side of you, Sergeant." You added.

"Don't do this to me, please." He whined as he breathed heavily. You chuckled as you kissed up his shaft, causing a groan to escape his lips. You licked around his tip, feeling his body shiver as your tounge touched him. "I need it so bad, lass." He added.

You smiled before taking him into your mouth, going about halfway down his shaft. He let out a moan as he laid his head back onto the pillow. You bobbed your head up and down on him, your hand on the rest of his shaft.

"Fucking hell — I can't take much more." He whined.

You brought your head up and away from his cock. He groaned in frustration at the loss of contact and looked at you. "You can hold off just a bit longer, Johnny." You teased as you moved upward. You hovered over him and aligned his shaft with your pussy. "Fuck, please." He breathes out as he lays his hands on your hips. You could almost laugh at his neediness.

You slowly sunk down onto his cock, him letting strings of curses fall from his mouth. Your chest heaved up and down before you began slowly grinding on his hips.

"Steamin' bloody Jesus — " He cursed, his hands tightly squeezing onto the flesh on your hips.

You pressed your hands onto his muscular chest as you moved up and down on his cock. You breathed heavily, feeling beads of sweat fall down your body. He groaned as he felt your walls clench around him. His hands reached up and roamed your chest and stopped to squeeze yuor breasts, causing you to gasp. The sound of wet slapping filled the room as you began moving faster on top of him. You leaned down and captured his lips in a long and sloppy kiss. Your hands wrapped around his neck and held onto him tightly. He moaned into your lips, his large arms wrapping around your body to hold you close.

"Goddammit lass, I'm gonna — " He broke away from your lips.

"Johnny." You breathed out, keeping the same pace as you moved your hips.

"Oh fuck — " Soap cursed as you clenched around him. You moaned loudly as you felt your orgasm hitting you as you bobbed on top of him. Soap felt his coming soon after, his hands moved back to your hips and tightly gripped on to your skin. He moaned loudly before thrusting up into you a few more times before pulling out and cumming. He spurt up onto your chest and some fell back onto his own chest.

Your breath heaved heavily as your legs shook on top of him, you held onto his chest for support. You both laid there, still with you on top of him, breathing as if you'd had just come back from a heavy workout.

"Oh my god." You whispered as you laid your forehead on his chest, feeling his fast heartbeat. Soap's arms once again wrapped around your body and pulled you closer to him. Your sweaty bodies were pressed against each other as you felt each other's heartbeats.

"I've never heard you beg like that, Sergeant." You teased as you brought up your head to look at him. "Oh, shut up." He said in that thick accent. You chuckled at him before sitting back up.

"Think you'll be able to sleep now?" You smirked. "Oh yeah, like a baby." He responded.

"Actually, how about we take a shower and clean up?" You suggested.

"Yeah, good idea." He smirked.

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julietta67

5 years ago

This is important

This won’t make your blog look ugly. How could you not reblog this? REBLOGGING THIS COULD SAVE A LIFE!!!

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tazmanite liked this · 7 years ago
julietta67 reblogged this · 8 years ago

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