Immeasurably Self Indulgent,,

Simon, without ever really considering it, places a lot of weight on a name. It's why he likes the separation between Simon and Ghost, why he gets to a point where he calls Soap Johnny, even when no one else does. It's important, what you call someone. There's a lot in a name.

With you, you'd never even know about Ghost -- to you, he's just Simon, and that's all he ever wants to be. He doesn't want those worlds to mix. Simon will do just fine.

But, after you've been dating a while, when you've convinced him to relax enough to lay his head in your lap while you watch tv and you let out a soft little "there you go, baby"?

Well that's something else entirely.

Because he's never been a "baby." He's never been "honey" or "sweetie" or any of those other cutesy little names you come up with, but when you call him those things, it's nice. Sort of relaxing in a way he never knew it could be.

"Baby, can you change the lightbulb for me?" "What's for dinner, baby?" "Right there, baby, don't stop."

He notices, every single time. It makes him want to try it too, to see if it'll give you the same little easy thrill it gives him. But he's not sure what kind of pet name feels right. He turns over words and phrases in his head when he's trying to go to sleep or in the shower -- he'd absolutely never admit this to you -- and he practices, trying to figure out what feels natural, what feels like you.

In the end, all the practice is for naught, because the right one slips out without him even thinking about it.

It's after he comes home from a deployment, exhausted from both everything that happened and from trying to hide his desperation to see you. When he gets home, you take him in your arms, and all the tension, for the moment, anyway, just falls right out of him, and he holds onto you like a lifeline.

"Missed you so fucking much, sweetheart."

He can feel you smile, your face pressed against his chest, and while he is glad to see you seem to like it, he wasn't prepared for how much he'd like it himself.

Because what you call someone matters. He'd spent the first half of his life as Simon, the second as Ghost, and now, as a complete surprise to him, he's getting a third chapter where he gets to be "baby," where he gets to be close enough to you to share these special little names. He gets to know your sweet heart, and it's more than he deserves.

But he'll never, ever stop trying to earn it.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK call of duty: modern warfare ii — atomgrad raid 2

When you're divorced to Price, you're not divorced to the team

Johnny still tried and invite you to everything they're doing, whether it is some kind of celebration or simple hangout.

And you felt rude to deny it, just because you're divorced.. doesn't mean you should stop having mutual friends with your ex-husband right?

Kyle still texted you from time to time, asking if you baked anything today. Making not so subtle hints of him- and the others, missing your baking.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw John walking past the door. You didn't know why, but you did save one cupcake. So as the others were occupied, you snuck away to put it on his desk.

So you visited their base, carrying a box of cupcakes in the rec room as you watched them demolish your work- oh god the cupcake wrap isn't edible Johnny.

And Simon?

Well.. before you were divorced, John used to make him keep an eye on you since he was too busy with work. Being your guard dog when you hang out around the base, or to take care of stuff if you have any trouble at home.

Like right now.

"Simon, i'm so, sorry about this- i already called a plumber and for some reason they canceled last minute, and I just can't wait another day to get it fixed-" You rambled as you watched him look at what's wrong with your washing machine, days worth of laundry piling up near it.

"It's alright" He simply responded. "Don't bother calling them next time, you have me" he added.

Then there's Laswell.

You've always got along so well with her, so it wasn't a surprise when she invited you to a ceremony where she would renew her vow with her wife.

It's been a while since you doll up properly and wear a dress. But you try to not feel self-conscious as you stepped out of your car. You didn't want to give your ex-husband the satisfaction. You wanted to look fine, more than fine, like the divorce didn't affect you.

It was easier said than done with the way you could feel his eyes from across the room as you tried to ignore him and focus on your conversation with Kate and her wife.

Goddamn, can he stop that, he's really making you nervous.

Sighing, you took a sip of a champagne that was served. Maybe the alcohol would help.

...

You woke up with a throbbing headache and turned your head to groan at the fluffy pillow. Fuck, you drank too much.

Opening your eyes slowly, you blinked when you saw a figure lying beside you.

John.

John?!

Your head throbbed even more when you sat up too fast. Looking under the blanket, you sighed when you see that you're clothed at least. Even though it wasn't the dress you wore last night.

Sighing, your gaze shifted to the man beside you and took in the scene that was too familiar to you once upon a time.

Against your better judgement, you laid back down. And for some reason, you didn't move away when a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist.

Why did you divorce him again?

"Si, you owe me a new couch," you half-joke, trying to ease some of the palpable tension in the air, as you sit next to your boyfriend, Simon, on your couch, cleaning the gash on his side with a face cloth.

The poor guy had shown up at your door in the middle of the night with the nastiest gash to his side. It was a superficial cut, so nothing that needed immediate medical attention, but it still bled—a lot

He wouldn't say how he acquired the laceration, but you suspected it couldn't have been good. You kept your assumptions to yourself and have been tending to them for the last five minutes or so.

"I'll buy you any kind you like," he picks his head up from its place on the back of the couch. You catch his eyes boring into the side of your head as you continue cleaning the area, finally looking up to lock eyes with him. The sincerity in his eyes has you letting out a small laugh.

"You don't have to," you murmur as your eyes shift to the gauze to your side. You carefully open a fresh piece, place it on the cut, and secure it with paper tape. You gently press the sides, securing the tape to his skin. "All done. Good boy," you jokingly say, tossing the gauze's empty packaging onto the coffee table in front of you.

You feel his hand grip your chin, pulling you towards his lips. You are slightly taken aback, even making a noise of surprise, but you quickly reciprocate the kiss.

He tasted of Nicorette gum and cigarette smoke with a hint of liquor. You would scowl at him later for the cigarette smell since he had supposedly quit, but right now, you could feel by the way he gripped your face he craved a taste of you.

You raised your hand to grip his jaw, trying to bring him closer. He senses your desire, gripping your hips and swinging you over his legs so you are now straddling him, never once disconnecting his lips from yours.

While you adjust to the new position, your knee grazes his gash, making him grunt into your mouth. You pull back slightly to speak; both of your chests are heaving. "Am I hurting you?" Your brows furrow in concern as you gently bring your hand to rest in his messy hair.

He knots his hand in your hair, lips brushing against yours. "Only if you stop,” he pants, deepening the kiss.

You smile into his lips, gripping his jaw, feeling his teeth clash against your own. One of his hands lingers over your hip once again, kneading the fat of it. The other lingers from your hair to pull down your shirt on your shoulder, revealing your collarbone.

His lips hover over your clavicle, eyes flicking to take note of a new, very small ‘s’ inked into your flesh. He brings his hand up to brush his fingertips over the tattoo.

“You got this for me?” He enunciates the ‘me,’ like it was just so unable to believe you would ever want to taint your skin for him.

“You like it?” You chew on your bottom lip, giddy with anticipation. He leans back against the back of the chair, shifting his torso a little. You let out a slight moan when you feel how hard he is.

“Do you feel that?” He gruffs, gripping your waist and grinding you against his clothed hard-on. You grip his shoulders with each of your hands tightly, hissing through your teeth, “How could I not?”

He leans forward, lips hovering over the shell of your ear so you can feel his hot breath against your skin. “I fuckin’ love it.”

a/n: a little fic just bc it's been a hot sec<3 divider!

It would be so jarring dating Soap because he will so casually say shit like "spit in my mouth would ye bonnie?" with full sincerity at the pub. "The new nails are well braw... naw had a finger up my arse in a while hen so time tae break them in" when you are at a bloody wedding. "Dinnae take it personal LT, she's on the rag and I havnae given her head in over an hour so that's why she's bitchin'. Open up bonnie, let me make it better" as he is bullying his head between your thighs when you're supposed to be having a nice dinner at his Lieutenants house and you snap at Ghost.

Johnny just does not have an off switch nor do you think he understands the concept of public decency. But fuck he's so damn good to you and is so incredibly obsessed with making you cum that you just learn to live with the embarassment he puts you through.

Price

Found this on an old flashdrive and you cannot tell me this isn't Captain John Price coded. Like could you just imagine John has been home for a few months, meaning he hasn't been working out as much, his stomach becoming a bit heavier with all the foods you've been cooking.

And you just can't get enough of it. Don't get me wrong, no matter how he looks, John's body is incredible. But there's just something so...domestic about him when he starts looking like this.

makeout sess with a big dude but im LOWK groping his thighs and ass

Some more of the boys… recon hugging 🫶

Rundown

Babysitter reader accidentally falling asleep in Price’s bed only to wake up to a big man crawling up behind her and shoving her legs apart while murmuring his wife’s name :\\ too bad she can’t correct him because the pillow keeps muffling her screams. - prompt by ceilidho

Warning: dubcon/noncon themes (reader doesn't verbally agree to sex but has wanted to fuck John secretly), somno kink, dirty talk, drunk! Price, implied age gap, babysitter! Reader, Wife is named, cheating, p in v sex, no protection, John's a nasty dog, Price is sloshed and can barely hold off his orgasm

Did i write this instead of sleeping? Yes. Do I have regrets? Many. I just couldn't stop thinking about this and knew I had to atleast try my hand.

Reblogs, likes and comments are much appreciated! This may be edited when I am no longer sleep deprived

You've been babysitting for the price family for almost a month now. A small bundle of joy surprisingly docile in your arms after the wailinig for the baby boy would have cradled in her embrace. You hated the glare Colleen would snap your way as soon as her son shushed. You weren't sure why, at first you chalked it up to coincidence. Just the baby being well- a baby. But then you let yourself linger in her presence and found yourself curling away from the sting in your nostrils from the strength of her perfume. A lovely brand you had no way to afford, truely she was a woman to envy. Even in her years she's aged like wine; Rosé to be exact. She was primped and refined. A polished diamond with every sharp edge pointed in your direction. The many necklaces she adorned on her neck were chunky and sparkled with real gems that surely John has gifted to her over their marriage. Though, it made an uncomfortable resting spot for the babe.

But little James had much to protest about the way his mother's nails were too long and dug into his soft skin. To cry and scream when her perfume was just too much. When her makeup smeared against his chubby cheek and the new texture roused him into another fit. Only soothed once back in the arms clad in soft cardigans and sweaters, the smell of gentle floral soap and smooth skin against his own.

You've heard Colleen before bark at John to find a new sitter making small comments about how her baby clearly hates her. How neither of the men in her life seem to want her presence always resulting in a heavy sigh from John, firm words of curt comfort but she'd just bare her teeth and curl her painted lips. Not taking his words as anything more than another spew of thoughtless support. Not stopping her cries of woe until John has enough and grit words of defence through his grinding teeth.

You tried not to listen in; it wasn't your business after all but you couldn't help but feel pity. Some days it was for Colleen, clearly stressed and trying to latch onto something she can't quite grasp. But other days you felt a deep pity for John; peering in with little James bouncing in your hold as he sat at the dining room table with his head in his hands. Shoulders sagging down with the weight of the world digging into them.

Poor little James having to hear all this. Often, you tried to keep him distracted with the jingle of your keys or read out of a storybook to drown out their thunderous voices.

There's been a time Johns found you like that, huddled up by the crib shushing and slowly rocking the baby to sleep. A storybook in your lap and a relieved slumped as you stare at James' sleeping face. And so, to avoid waking up his son, he'd get close to your ear, ruffling your hair and giving your shoulder a firm squeeze as he muttered, 'Good girl. Such a sweet girl for keeping him happy' and 'sorry you had to hear all that, love' as he insisted on slipping you another small stack of pound notes for the extra stress. No matter how many times you've tried to decline.

Just as many times you've tried to convince yourself you didn't touch yourself that night because of his words. You definitely didn't imagine him mumbling sweet nothing's of how good you are, so perfect and sweet for him. He was a married man, for God's sake!

A soon-to-be divorced one if things continued to persist the way they were.

You didn't dare let these feelings show; for fear of losing your job and the possible disdain that would cloud over his aged features that you'd have the audacity to think of him that way. Unable to bring yourself to even consider baring the thought of his disapproval. It was too much. It made your stomach twist in ways stressful university exams never did.

-- -- --

RIIIIING

You rose from your afternoon nap, a startled sound ripped from your throat. textbook and laptop discarded clumsily at the table. The sofa creaking as you pulled yourself up, eyes squinting as you tried to find your phone in the darkness. Eyes already aching from staring at your laptop screen for hours even when it grew dark. Took engrossed in finishing your assignment to care that you were in pitch black. Only napping to soothe the sting.

You plucked your phone from the floor and saw it was Colleen calling you. Your eyes widened as you hastily answered. "Mrs Price! Is everything okay?"

"I need you to come over as soon as possible, Im already running late to meet with the girls and I need someone to watch James."

Your brows pinched in confusion. Checking the time and saw it was 10 o'clock. Surely there had to be someone more local.

"where's John-?"

"being useless as always, drinking and leaving me to do all his shit for him."

Your eyes practically bulged out of your skull; sure you've heard her be nasty but this was the first time you've ever heard her be so brazen with her dislike for her husband. Her voice oozing with venomous spit as each word punched out from her throat.

You thought it would be for the best not to say anything. Swallowing what words of defence you had for John, you slid off your couch. "I'll- uh- I'll be on my way."

You slipped on your shoes and your warmest coat, thankful your keys already sat in its pocket. You rushed out of your door, having to cycle your way over. Usually you'd catch the bus and then cycle the rest of the way but night buses weren't running where you needed to go.

Never have you peddled so quickly. Your legs were on fire by the time you arrived and Colleen was hissing at you as she scurried out the door for how late you were making her. Muttering the whole time she got in her car and was driving off into the night. You stumbled into the house and immediately went upstairs to check on James and thankfully he was still sleeping.

Hours you spent waiting for John to return home or even Collen. Anyone to bid you off so you could go back home and sink into the plush of your bed. Sleeping on the sofa and then all that peddling has strung your body until you were nothing but knots. Sitting down almost the entire time as your legs protested to any further usage.

You only went into the bedroom to grab the spare baby monitor to check if it was still working, but you got nosey. Peeking around and finding colleens vanity, staring at the unflattering reflection. Your hair was a mess, and your clothes were screwed on your body. You could smell your sweat and it wasn't even hot. With great hesitance, you picked and sniffed at the collection of perfume that sat there. All were much too strong for your tastes until you found a bottle tucked into the very corner. It looked like it hadn't been touched for a while, not even half empty, but it wasn't old. The brand's logo was chipped at the edges, and the bottle was sealed the wrong way. You couldn't resist giving it a small sniff and were pleasantly surprised to find such a kind smell. It was vanilla and rose water; with a small bit to your lip and against all your better judgment. You sprayed a shy spritz on your neck and dabbed it into either side. Already feeling like a grander woman.

But your curiosity died as the king-sized bed seemed to be calling your name. Sheets are neatly folded, and pillows are fluffed. With James back asleep after some fuss and a diaper change you slinked into the covers with mumbled apologies.

Sleep claiming you faster than you ever expected, slumped heavily against the mattress as your nose was filled with John's scent. A heady mix of both his natural order and the shampoo he used. Your nose sinking into the pillow even in your dreams as you inhaled deeply. Happy hums filling the empty room before soft snores took their place.

-- -- --

John on the other hand was not so lovingly dozed off. He wasn't partying with friends and running his mouth about all his stresses. No he was haggard as he just barely pulled himself away from the sticky counter. The bartender muttering something along the lines of him getting back to the misses.

His misses.

He was nothing but a stubborn bastard. That was his ring on her finger and he couldn't swallow the uncomfortable bitter pill that was his reality. He's been finding his ring 'mistakenly' left on the bathroom counter. She was already bringing up divorce whenever he glared at her a second too long.

He couldn't have it. What kind of man would he be if he stood by and let her go prancing off. That was his wife. His.

His fist hit the counter with a determined sneer and he shoved himself away. Wobbling for a moment before he was able to muster his legs into a familiar march. His footsteps were unsteady but persistent in their journey. The bar was within walking distance and what was a little fresh air to help sober him up so he can face his woman how he should. Steel in his composure and fire burning in his eyes as he was going to-

To-

Fuck. There are so many things he's been wanting to do. It's been too long. Much too long without being in between her legs. The heat of a welcoming cunt was now foreign as he had to rub himself with the rough callouses of his hand. No amount of spit could replace the heavenly slick of a woman's arousal. Didn't sound the same when he fucked his fist. Didn't smell the same. Didn't feel the same.

She was truly a cruel woman. He could withstand her sneers and moaning, but to deprive him of the luxury of a husband was the devil's work. His own personal torment after so many years of bloodshed and muddled honors.

Perhaps if that walk was as sobering as he told himself it was, he would have noticed the car that was missing. The bike parked in its place. The tranquil quite of his home shattered, 2 am in the morning, as he heaved himself through the door and winced at the thud of the door. Pausing to hear any cries of his son or the pissed off yell of disappointment but he was met with nothing.

He lumbered through his house after kicking off his boots. His coat was thrown somewhere in the darkness as he crept up the stairs and shuffled into his bedroom. There, he saw the lump of a figure in his bed, and his brain clicked into gear. Licking his dry lips, he dusted his hands off his jeans, already undoing his belt as he stepped out of the fabric as soon as it pooled down to his ankles. Crawling onto the bed as he stared at the sleeping miss in his bed, eyes beyond blurred and too blinded by his determination, maybe he would have noticed the obvious differences between you and his wife.

He presses sloppy open mouth kisses to your shoulder. "Col- Colly, He slurred out as each kiss grew higher and higher. The untrimmed scruff of his mutton chops scratching against your cheek ear as he babbled in gruff murmurs. "Wake up, honey."

But he had no patience for his 'wife' to rise from her slumber. Your stirring only egged him on as he caged your slumbering body in with hands on either side of your shoulders. Moving the blanket down to reveal your covered form. He huffed in disapproval. "Tuckered out? Didn't even undress." He scolded but there was no heat to his words as he began to undo the buttons of your jeans and eased them down your legs. Shifting your shirt as high as he could before grunting as your unconscious form was no help.

"this why..you need me." His chest pressed heavily down onto your back as his large hands wandered along your curves. Pinching at the chub he didn't remember Colleen having but it's been so long he just dismissed it. "Keep ya nice and warm."

John couldn't wait any longer. Pushing your underwear to the side and his fingers curled against the fabric as he rutted against your silky folds through the fabric of his briefs. Like a dog in heat his hips grinded hard against your sex. His nose burying in your neck as he huffed the smell of perfume - he got her that for their anniversary. He knew she was still missing him. All that bullshit of insisting she'd never wear one of his gifts again. Throwing out jewelry that was now deemed tacky, all because he bought it, and clothes she just shunned as old news.

With a growl he yanked his boxers down as he grabbed his already half hard cock. Rubbing it through your glistening sex, already so wet for him. Perfect little wife. He didn't take long for him to chub to full mass as he huffed at the floral scent on your neck. "Gonna fix it- gonna fix everything-"

As soon as his cock pressed into your entrance you were startled awake. The sudden sting making your eyes pry open. Your breathing hitched as you heard John's voice mumbling something into your skin as you opened your mouth but he just shushed you. "None of that. Don't start, just need you tonight." He presses his hips frimer to your ass as the fat head of his cock speared your cunt. He groaned deeply with a curse knocked out of him. "So fucking tight-"

Your cheeks burned as you tried to squirm away from the blistering heat of your poor fluttering walls being pried apart by his sheer girth. Gasping into the pillow. With a huff John yanked you further down with a sharp tug on your underwear, his free hand pressing down on the back of your neck to keep you nice and arched. Any words you tried to squeak out immediately muffled.

"that's it, just open up for me, Coll." He cooed, the stretch of alcohol thick on his breath as he squeezed your neck. Feeling the way your pussy betrayed you, crying all over his big dick as you heard each grunt and groan rattle in your ears. Just able to hear it over the sound of your own heart thumping so loudly you thought for a moment it lodged itself into your skull. "Atta girl."

As soon as your ass was flush to his pelvis you let out a whimper. Clutching at the bedding your eyes squeezed shut. The pain faded into a dull numbness before the tug of a vein rubbing against your walls had you softly moaning. So full. You could barely breathe with how far it was pressed to your stomach. Surely shoving your organs up and lodging them into your throat. A knot tight in it as your eyes fluttered open.

Unable a moment to breathe as he guided you back onto his cock with every thrust that sent you jolting forward. The stitches of your underwear screamed as he set his pace. sloppy but reaching deep within. Kissing your cervix with each thrust as you trembled. Blinking you didn't even notice the tears that poured down your heated cheeks as you kept shaking your head. Any attempt of protest cut off by your own traitorous moan.

Fuck it feels good. Why must if feel so good. You've imagined what his cock would feel like but you never imagined this. Never thought you'd actually be feel it drill into your poor cunt as you sniffled and sobbed.

John could barely restrain himself. When did her pussy ever feel this good? So tight and clamping down on his cock as if it were the first time. Has it really been so long that her body became as foreign to him as it he was to her. That made his teeth grit as he panted. "Shit- gonna- fuuck-"

He didn't need to say if for you to know. Your stomach clenched as your thighs tried to squeeze tight together like that would stop anything. Not with his thick thighs spreading your legs wide and welcoming for him. "J-John-" you hiccuped.

Voice so strained it became high pitched. Needy. It made his head spin or maybe that was just the alcohol catching up to him. Groaning deep from within his chest as he flooded your tight hole with hot ropes of cum. Rolling his hips lazily with each squirt. "Sorry...been too long-" he kissed your shoulder and your cheek. "You feel like heaven, love."

But John was never a selfish lover. He let go of your underwear as he remained snugly slotted into your warmth. Relishing in its slick heat. Thick fingers finding your clit with startling ease as he rubbed in circles. Fast and his rhythm broken but with how your clit was already throbbing needily it didn't deter your body from singing out. Hands clawing at the pillow your face was buried against as you bucked into the friction. Shaking your head as you tried to fight off how good it felt.

Whines spilling out of you as you chanted pleas and curses but it all fell on deaf ears. "Ohh- oh!" You pulsed around him as your own orgasm tightened in your lower belly. No matter how much you tried to deter it, John was insistent of your pleasure.

"c'mon on, Coll, make a mess on my cock." He cooed as he pressed more of his weight down into your back to keep you from squirming too much. "Know you miss it."

You cried out as it crashed over you. Stars filling your already blurry vision as stray droplets of tears fell down. The cover of the pillow damp with your tears and specks of drool you desperately tried to swallow down.

Both of you just laying there for awhile. You were stiff as a rock and he was slowly rolling his hips. Fucking his cum deeper into you with more kisses to your sticky skin. His hand weaving up to your hair as he tugged your head from the pillow. Blinking sluggishly as he expected to be greeted with the face of his wife but instead he was met with his babysitter. Cheeks streaked with tears and your lips parted with a small gloss of drool. Sniffling as your eyes latched to his dumb stare. Just looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

"you're not my wife."

cleanse me (bsf!johnny mactavish x reader, fluff with groping)

it had been a rough mission. the kind where the team gets out by a hair, bleeding and scraped as they ran to exfil. the kind with a silent ride back to base, neither you nor johnny able to fill the air with a laugh or two. the kind where you think of what could have happened if things hadn’t fell into place at the last second, who you could be mourning now.

johnny’s your best friend, and maybe something more. late night cuddles, waist hugs and forehead kisses all feel like a little more. that night with the drunken marriage pact (you both were only tipsy, but you like to use alcohol as your reasoning for stupidity) that you both ignore to this day.

so when you see him in the communal showers, a man whose seen you naked in every way, you can’t help but seek comfort from your other half. you strip your clothes into a pile on the floor and walk over to where this scottish god stands under a shower head, letting the water wash off his sins.

he hears you come up from behind him and tenses a bit, still in fight mode from the mission. you take a hand and smooth out his tense back muscles, his body relaxing at the familiar feel of your calluses. his mohawk has grown out, almost breaking regulation standards, but you like the feel, sliding your hand from his neck to his longer strands. your nails scrape his scalp, every movement reminding you that you didn’t lose him, he’s still here. you reach your other hand around him, and he silently squirts shampoo into it.

you take your time massaging his hair, getting out the dried bomb residue and drops of blood. the water finally runs clean after a few minutes, and you finish him off with your own conditioner since you know he doesn’t own one.

you move on to body wash, massaging him up and down until he’s covered in suds, in soap. you take your time with his back, tracing scars and healed-over bullet wounds. you crouch and get the back of his legs, kneading tense muscles. he turns around and you choke back a whine, coming face to face with his hardened cock, but now isn’t the time. instead, you lather the front of his legs and slowly stand, giving his cock a couple pumps to make everything gets cleaned.

finally you clean his torso, playing with his light chest hair as you work in the last of the soap. his arms are so masculine, thick veins protruding as you work him down to the fingers. and now you’re done.

you make eye contact nervously, for the first time since this entire endeavor started. his blue eyes sear into you, a world of want and understanding found behind them. johnny grabs your chin and pulls you closer, forcing you into the cleansing stream of water. “leannan.” darling. love. you had looked it up before, his tender nickname for you, never really understanding the breadth of it until he looked at you like this. like you were his love.

“johnny.” he was cleaning you now, with the same care you gave him. the hands of a soldier, a bomb maker, an engineer, practiced in deft and slight movements. “ye take care of me so well.” you nodded, choking back some unknown emotion. he was cupping your pussy, muttering sweet nothings about treating her right and my wet little thing, things in his language you didn’t understand.

“how long do i have to wait to marry ye again?” he moved from your cunt to your breasts, memorizing their feel. storing it for later, in the darkness of his room, fist pumping his cock with rough strokes. “five-“ his hand gripped your throat, thumb stroking your jaw, distracting you for a second. “five years.” he hummed. “i’ll marry ye tomorrow if ye want, just say the word.” your mouth opened and closed, resembling a gaping fish. he laughed and gave you that cheeky grin, slowly returning to himself. because of you.

“cmon, let’s get some food in ye.”

—

best friend!johnny GETS ME