More Than Partners - The Mandalorian X Reader

Unlike a Knight

Sellsword Din Djarin x F!reader

PART 2 WC: 1,771 Inspired by my Knight!Din art Part 1 Tags: eventual smut 18+, explicit language (swearing but in a fancy olde english kinda way), descriptions of violence Join the taglist Masterlist

You had never liked the city. It was a habitat that demanded fast paces and flexibility which weren’t beyond your capability but mixed with the sheer number of people and the looming City Watch- you found it a place you were grateful to live far from.

However, since the city was a fair way away, it meant that if you needed to go there it would be no quick errand. And it was the very situation that you were in that warranted such a trip. Kuiil’s fever had worsened in only a few days to the point that you were now forcing him to stay in bed, and insisted on clearing out the inn for the day so that you could go to the wretched city and find the stubborn man some medicine.

You would have gone to see the local village healer for medicine but as luck would have you cursed, the healer had been arrested by the City Watch only the other week for reasons no one seemed to know- “malpractice” you were told and nothing more. You remained suspicious. So the city was both your last resort and your only choice.

So you set out at dawn with your woven market bag tucked into your belt and a headscarf on to keep your hair back. You crossed the short distance from the backstep of the inn to the stables, forcing the will for what you were about to face to fill you with each step.

Kuiil had never seen much use in keeping a horse in the stables for himself but he did have a mule named Blurg. It was rather a fitting creature for a man like him you supposed; slow but strong and reliable, grey, quiet but certainly stubborn. You liked Blurg but resented the fact that your journey into the city would only be made longer on his back.

Nevertheless, you hitched him up quickly and mounted him, kicking off from his stall with a gait just shy of a trot in the direction of the high road. The fresh air of the early early morning was undeniably pleasant and through your resentment for the circumstances that had you on this journey you were grateful for the clarity the air gave you- you hoped it might relieve you of the feverish thoughts you had been having concerning a certain sellsword.

Two days had passed since that rough-tongued sellsword had left the inn and your company but he was yet to leave your mind. No matter what you did you couldn’t stop your thoughts from shifting to him- scrubbing the blood he had left on the floor the next day, serving patrons, changing bed linens and taking others out to wash and dry- and what might’ve happened if he had grabbed you instead of that tankard of mead.

Nothing about the way he moved or spoke suggested that he would take you with any sort of delicacy- a display of self-entitlement and obnoxity that would have sent your hand across his face had it actually happened- but that only spurred on your thoughts, excited by the tension that had been apparent between you and him.

You thought about the finer details of him, filling in parts of him that you would likely never know with your purely indulgent fantasies:

His hair had been scruffy, curling over his forehead and sticking out in messy directions at the back of his neck, it looked like it could be feather-soft, a dream to run your fingers through. The hair at his ears came down to frame around the shape of his jaw, wiry hairs tracing over the top of lips that hid a rough tongue from view- a tongue that would be put to far better use if it were buried deep inside your own mouth or inside your cunt.

Those scruffy hairs on his chin would burn across your skin, tracks marked into you with his hungry mouth latched to your body as he proved that he preferred to drink from you over any mead...

The kind of man that was disguised by layers of amour and beskar could be anything you wished and only in those fantasy wishes would you submit to him; you knew that if he dared to come back into your life you’d be no more receptive to him and his obtrusive and harsh manner.

…

By the time the city came into near view, it was midday, the sun high in the sky. You didn’t dare take Blurg through the city so you found the stables outside the city walls, promising him you wouldn’t take long and sweetening your bond with the mule with a sack of oats you brought off the stable boy.

Once inside the city walls, past the invasive stares of the guardsmen posted at the gates, you took the main road to the heart of the capital. Even though you were moving on foot now, you made good time as your momentum was subconsciously encouraged to keep up with the flow of people around you. You knew there was probably a quicker way to get to the Masters’ Hall but you certainly weren’t going to chance any shortcuts down slim alleyways or streets you were unfamiliar with; at least from the heart of the city you could pick out the dome top of the Hall above the rest of the buildings and then go from there.

…

“You say this balm is for your father?”

The Master was old- younger than Kuiil, you were sure, but not so young-looking and he spoke like his throat was full of ash- so you didn’t bother to correct him in that Kuiil was your employer. “Yes, that’s right.” You said. You tried not to reveal how impatient you were growing at the slow pace with which the Master wrote down each ingredient with delayed strokes.

“You’ll need to apply this liberally to the back of his neck, forehead and chest twice a day- the powdered nerf hoof makes it smell something horrible but that’s an important part of it and shouldn’t be missed, see, its always the young girls like yourself that don’t use the hoofs because it offends their delicate noses but it is a very important part of the recipe so if you find it too bothersome-”

At this rate you would be there all day and night. “Thank you.” You said hastily, “When will he get better?”

The old Master huffed, clearly disappointed that you would not let him continue his leisurely ramblings about the sensitivity of a woman’s nose. He scratched down the last ingredient with his quill, the ink dropping across the rest of the page. “A week. If the nerf hoof bothers you so much perhaps your husband could mix-”

“Is all this enough for a balm that lasts a week?” you gestured at the amounts he had written on the list, aggressively avoiding the husband comment. Dangerous, dangerous territory. “I don’t want to come back to the city…” He looked up at you then, a look of patronizing agreement on his face that you tried to snuff out quickly by adding, “and leave him home by himself again.”

He dropped his quill to the table, ink left in the tip blotting against the edge of the paper which he then gave to you. “With the right rationing It is enough.”

“Thank you very much.” You started to back up to reach the door before he could steal more of your time.

“Of course, girl. Will you be needing anything else?”

You left with a “no” and another “thankyou” but he didn’t leave your heels until you had fully left the Masters’ Hall, the heavy door shut behind you.

You took a full five seconds to breathe in the outside air- not just to expel the stuffy air you had taken in inside the Hall but also to will the conversation to leave you.

There wasn’t much that made you anxious but the husband subject could clear you from a room faster than smoke rose from a fire. It wasn’t like you had never had offers of marriage or caught the eye of a handsome man but the concept- the expectations and the duties that came with becoming someone’s wife- was just too much for you to seriously consider without getting nervous. Marriages weren’t just about the man you were marrying after all, there were children that you were expected to carry and birth and then raise; a lifetime given over to the role of motherhood which would likely never end.

You had the utmost respect for women that wanted to and were proud to be mothers but when it came to you being a mother- you seriously doubted your capacity to do so well enough, it was simply easier to not entertain the option.

Once you had regained your outward composure, you checked over the list.

Some of the more common ingredients like bantha tallow or baywood leaves were things you would find easily back in your own village- for a cheaper price too- so you mentally struck those from the list for now. You weren’t about to waste time looking for deals. You started for the city market hoping to find the strange ingredients quickly, side tracked only by the luring smells of a bakery to which your empty stomach bent to.

The air was kicked out of you when the first thing your eyes fell on in the market was a figure in mismatched armor. The sellsword. He was scanning a blacksmith’s stall, arms crossed over his chest and looking to converse with the smith intermittently. Even from the back of him you could tell it was the same man who left you in such a flustered mess that night. The sight of him alone stirred something inside you, a low burning feeling that threatened to catch in your throat with equal parts of passion and anger.

You doubted he’d see you amidst the rest of the population of market goers- and if he did he surely wouldn’t recognize you- so you didn’t care to try and avoid him, moving right past him to the stall that promised noxious herbs and smelly nerf produce.

However, once you raised your voice to ask the vendor for the powder, the sellsword’s head snapped in your direction. He had noticed you. You kept your head forward, trying to sell the fact that you were ignorant to his presence-- and you would have done a good job of that display had he not started to approach you.

—

Sorry it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger- I feel like I've been working on this update forever (even tho there's several parts of it I'm not happy with) and its just a mess honestly so rip, here it is!.

Taglist: @gingersnappe-9 @literallydontlook @lady-djarin

☆ giving creators the love they deserve ☆

Just thought I’d show my support for all of the wonderful fic writers on here that share their lovely creations with us—for free. What you do is a joy to be a part of, and I want to say thank you for everything you contribute ❤️

Below the cut, there are “smut”, “fluff”, “angst”, and “series’ + series’ with au’s” recs, categorized so that you can find exactly what you’re looking for! Happy reading, everyone 🥰

(This is long and I actually hit the tag limit? So, I wasn’t able to include everything I wanted to 😭 but I will potentially make a 2nd part to this in the future!).

Disclaimer: if you’re a writer, and your work is not listed here, please know that there are thousands of fics out there and it’s simply impossible for me to add them all or even come close to that number—please don’t take this personally. Also, please do not take offense if one of your favourite works is not listed; this is unavoidable. I did my best to find as many as I could, as well as try to have a variety of different topics and tropes being portrayed. Some author’s are repeated and various works of theirs are potentially listed under sections. Enjoy! (These are also in no particular order).

Would You Let Me & You Were My New Dream (And You Were Mine) by @keeper0fthestars

Cuffs & The Soft Side by @honeymandos

Promise & Bliss by @auty-ren

You Deserve It by @catsnkooks

Thin Walls by @leo-moon

Hungry, Switch & Taste You by @hdlynnslibrary

Alleyways by @huliabitch

Taste So Good, Full Sabacc & Chaste by @tiffdawg

Kneel At My Alter by @filthybookworm

Magma by @oloreaa

Little Yellow Sundress by @aerynwrites

Good Vibrations, Golden Berries & Fire And Ice by @janghoefett

Hot Springs by @mandoalorian

All In by @buttercup--bee

So Pretty And So Good by @mandolovian

The Bet & Bred by @tibbietibbs

Release by @letterfromvienna

The Contract by @ollypopp

Haircuts & Interwoven by @hdlynnslibrary

The Way You Put That Smile Upon My Face by @keeper0fthestars

The Softness Among Stars by @honeymandos

Pick Up Lines & Cold Fingers by @oloreaa

Touch & Ice Cold by @aerynwrites

Tender Kiss by @buttercup--bee

Close Quarters by @reluctant-mandalore

Bedside Manner by @janghoefett

Heavenly Bodies & Strings Attached by @mndalorians

Blankets Over Barbed Wire + Evermore (part 2) by @mrpascals

No Living Thing by @hiscyarika

Trust Is A Fragile Thing & Reunited by @aerynwrites

Crossed Wires & Again, Again by @mndalorians

By Hand & Recrudescent (I’m Right Here) by @keeper0fthestars

Heavy by @hdlynnslibrary

The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight series by @space-cowboy-din

Just This Once series by @mcfreakin-bxtch

Vencuyanir series & the Orbit series by @oloreaa

Redamancy series by @mrpascals

The Offer series (Clan Leader!Din AU) & the Waiting Up series by @auty-ren

Sparks series by @maybege

Migraine series by @leo-moon

Dusty Trails series (Old West!AU) by @hdlynnslibrary

The Light of Stars series by @tiffdawg

Silent Planet, Cradled Hands series by @corvueros

Borrowed Time series by @mandoalorian

White Rose series (Knight!Din AU) by @aerynwrites

Unheavenly Creatures series (Clan Leader + Mand’alor!Din AU) by @huliabitch

Miscommunication series by @mouthymandalorian

Take Me to Church series (Western!AU) by @frannyzooey

Rule Maker, Rule Breaker series by @mandoinevarro

Peace series by @sunsetkenobi

Thank you to everyone who wears their heart on their sleeve and is kind enough to share all their fantastic pieces of work with everyone ❤️

Your impact and reach here is larger than you know. This fandom would be nothing without all of us, and you’re all so very important—no matter what anyone says.

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.”

-

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

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.

Mob! Bucky x Virgin! Best friend Reader?

Ooh this is new

Okay but imagine having Bucky as your best friend since childhood; your families were close and hence you two as well

And when his father passes, the title gets passed down to him. And he's not just your best friend anymore, he's Bucky Barnes the mob boss.

Of course, that never affected your friendship and you two remain close friends

And you tell each other everything.

Literally everything.

Which is the reason why you found yourself in this situation today; where you and Bucky were having a movie night

Sat on your couch in your pjs, just like when you were kids. And since the movie was boring, halfway through it, you decided to bring up something you've been wanting to do for a while now.

You were in your early 20s and still a virgin, not that there was anything wrong with it, but you simply wanted to change that.

But instead of just doing that with someone you don't know well, you decided to turn to the only man you could trust - Bucky.

And he was surprised. "You want me to what?"

You sigh and hit him with a nearby pillow. "Literally all I'm asking is for you to fuck me, is that too hard?"

"No it's not. I didn't even know that you were a v-" he stopped and took a deep breath. "Look, there's nothing wrong with that. You can wait for when you find someone you truly trust and-"

You cut him.

"That's why I'm asking you, Buck. I don't wanna do it with a stranger. I trust you." you tell him and for some reasons, the very thought of some other man touching you made him uncomfortable and almost angry.

"Are you sure?" he asks you again.

And you nod immediately. "A hundred percent."

He looks at you for a few seconds, then stares at your lips before he leans in and presses his lips to yours and pulls you onto his lap.

Okay but can you imagine? The big, bad mob boss being all gentle and careful with you?

Because he's had feelings for you this whole time but he was always scared of losing your friendship

So now that he finally gets to show you, he wants to make sure you're completely fine with it.

Imagine him asking you if you're okay at all times?

"Can I touch you?"

"Tell me if you want me to stop?"

"Are you okay with this?"

"Can I get rid of your shirt?"

"Can I touch you here?"

"Tell me if you're not comfortable, okay?"

To a point where you'd have to shut him up with a kiss each time he'd open his mouth to ask a question

Okay but imagine him taking it slow, being all gentle when he goes down on you;

Holding you like you were made of delicate glass

Kissing every inch of your body as he makes his way in between your hips

Being the first one to touch you like this gave him quite the rush, and he wanted to be the best you ever have

And when his mouth latches onto your sensitive clit, you can't help but moan at the pleasurable yet foreign feeling

I bet mob!bucky would want to make you cum as many times as he possibly can;

On his tongue

All over his fingers

Maybe on his tongue one more time before he asks you if you are okay again

And when you say you are, he pushes his erected cock in you

He's slow and gentle again; watching your face intently, looking for any signs of discomfort or pain

But you assure him you're okay and you want this.

Bucky cups your face in his large hands once he's entirely buried in you, and you ask him to give you a moment

He cups your face and kisses you deeply; and something in him flips like switch.

He doesn't want anyone else touching you like this ever again

"You're mine." he mumbled against your lips as he slowly moves against you; his cock slipping in and out of you

You whine and whimpered at the unfamiliar feeling; it's just a little painful given he was big but his gentle touch made up for it

He held you lovingly as he stared into your eyes while he fucked you slowly.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, panting as he had to hold back his need and desire to just fuck you like an animal

You nodded and slid your hands into his hair while he sped up just a little; moaning at how tight and warm you felt

He picks up his pace slowly, speeding into you only after he's certain that you're okay with it

Maybe he leans down to kiss you while he pounds into you

You tug on his hair and he moans through the kiss

You soon feel an unfamiliar feeling wash over you, a pressure in between your hips; sweet, agonizing and overwhelming

You moaned out loud and held on to his shoulders for dear life as he makes you cum

Your walls clench around him, and you throw your head back and cry out as you cum around him; your walls milking him until he came as well, right after you

He kisses your forehead as you come down from your high

You're both panting after you're done and Bucky simply just lays there, partially on top of you

And he gently caresses your face, affectionately

And you feel it too, the peace and comfort by being with him; but you're scared of losing him as a friend

"Are you okay?" he asks again, breaking the silence

You nod and tell him you're okay. You're more than okay actually.

"Would now be a good time to tell you that I've had feelings for you since forever?" he sounds so vulnerable

You smile and lean in closer to him, tucking your head under his chin, kissing his skin gently.

"Yup. Because then I'd tell you that I've had feelings for you for the longest time ever as well." you finally confess and he chuckles and pulls you into his arms

"You're mine." he whispers again and kisses the top of your head.

And you're fine with that; being his.

a/n: i want

Iam on a Marcus Pike Train right now and I feel like I've read every Fanfiction... Do you have some recommendations?

@mrpascals has some amazing fics. Her MasterList is here. 

@hdlynnslibrary MasterList here

@yespolkadotkitty

@pikemoreno

@aerynwrites

If you like Supernatural you can talk about it with me