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thebrokenomega · 1 year

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Alpha!Soap x Omega!Civilian!Reader: Fated Pair

Author Note: This takes place during the campaign mission "Alone." If you haven't played through the campaign, please know there are spoilers. There are mentions of death, so do be warned. If you all want more, please let me know!

~First P.O.V~

Panting, I slid on the wet ground running from these strange men wearing solid black uniforms. I passed bodies of men, women, and children alike that these people killed for no reason. I could faintly hear the men getting further and further away as I took shortcuts to get away. I yelped as the rain made the ground slick, causing me to fall. As I lay there, I slowly began to realize the pain in my left thigh. The sound of someone landing on the ground to my left caught my attention. Glancing left, I saw a guy with a mohawk in a different uniform. In fear, I struggled to get up and shift away, which got his attention.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I'm not with them, I'm running just like you." The man spoke his voice thick with a Scottish accent. Looking at him, I could see his right arm was also injured. I knew he had to be in just as much pain as myself. Slowly, I crawled over to him, now hearing the other non-friendlies get closer. Even looking like he had been through hell already, he managed to give me a charming smile. With his back against the wall, he began to fidget with his vest. Before I could question him, he spoke.

"This is Bravo 7-1 in the blind... how copy...?" He waited a few as he waited to hear back from what I could assume would be allies. All that could be heard around us were the sounds of rain and people getting killed.

"Ghost, this is 7-1, do you copy?" He paused before sighing heavily both from not getting a response and from his pain.

"Fuck... Where are you Ghost...?" He grunted as he shifted to glance around the corner before grunting as he stood. I could only imagine how much pain he was truly in from how much he had already been through. It made me wonder if he knew what a good night's rest truly was. I could see his struggling to stand as it was, but each step forward he took showed just how bad off he was. My heart clinched as he fell, and I struggled but managed to get to his side. I gave him a bit of support as he got up enough to lean on his hip. He brought his hand up to his wound before glancing at the blood. This man seemed more relaxed than before as he pushed forward, taking cover behind a car.

"Solid." I heard him say as he took in our surroundings before he looked back at me. He offered a smile before gesturing for me to follow him.

"You can call me Soap, I'm one of the good guys. I can help you get out of here, but you'll need to trust me. Are you willing to handle a gun and kill these guys?" He asked, glancing back to make sure the men in black uniforms weren't close. I quickly caught on he wanted me to follow him, which meant going back through the other guys.

"I'm (Y/n), and yes, I'm willing to kill these assholes. They are killing innocent people, and someone needs to correct them." I spoke softly, keeping my voice down. My words brought a smirk to his face as he nodded. Following him closely, we stayed low to the ground and crept back the way I had come. Taking cover on the right side of a pickup truck and creeping forward. Soap stood up with a struggled 'ow' before he kept moving forward. He made a small conversation with whoever was this Ghost person.

Soap, and I made it through an alleyway towards a house. My nerves were everywhere, but my instincts told me to trust the man in front of me. Something about him made my inner omega feel safe, what it was, however, I don't know. We made it into the house's garage, and the door leading inside was locked. He opened the door leading to the storage closet and listened to his friend before breaking a piece of a fan blade off and wrapping an end with rope. He used it to pry open the garage door. As we made it through the house, Soap gathered various materials, even picking up a head lamp to help light a way.

The further we got into the house, the more items Soap grabbed as he made quiet talk with his friend. We got to the master bedroom only for the caged dog to spook the daylights out of me. I clung to Soap's arm when the dog began growling at us. Soap gently rubbed my hands before lightly tugging me to follow him and ignore the dog. A guy came up to investigate the dog growling, and by some miracle, we were unseen. Soap crept to the balcony, slowly climbing over the railing and jumping. He landed roughly on the ground, and I knew I was in for the same landing. I took a breath and followed him down, wincing at the pain of my leg flaring from my attempt to land on my feet.

Soap gave a soft apology as he helped me up before leading me once more. The sight was out of a nightmare, cops were also being killed on top of things. Nowhere was safe, I had been here to try to help the sick, and this was never something I foresaw. I had only been here six months, and yet I had made a great standing with everyone. We continued through the guards and through various shops. Upon taking a guard down, Soap drug the mans body away from sight. With his help, we took off the guards main armor and fitted it to me. He helped me set up the comms so I could hear his friend and him if I were to get separated. Arming me with a gun, Soap gave me his charming smile.

"Hey LT, I got a friend coming with me. She managed to survive the Shadows." Soap spoke into the comms to his friend on the other end.

"Johnny, what are you going to do when she slows you down? Or when she turns on you?" The man with a gravely British accent remarked. I could understand looking out for his teammate and not trusting me, so I held no ill feelings towards his defense.

"With all due to respect, sir, these bastards killed innocents and nearly me. I came here to help not sit by and watch them die." I replied into comms as I followed behind Soap watching for any signs of the so called Shadows. I could see Soap smiling in front of me, making me feel confident in my choice of words.

"We'll see about that, won't we?" He remarked before asking Soap our location. The closer we got to the church, the more Shadows we ran into. We finally met up with his friend, Ghost, but it was getting hard to hold off the Shadows. Ghost told us to head for the truck and that we'd get out of here. Looking at our path quickly, I knew one thing for sure they needed an opening to the truck. As the boys took off towards the truck, I took a deep breath and pulled off my scent blockers. Letting the pure scent of a distressed omega flood the area. It distracted the Shadows, letting the boys get to the truck.

"(Y/n) come on!" Soap barked out his voice, sounding both desperate and urgent. I slapped the block back on and booked it, the pain in my leg screaming with the force and pressure of each step.

"Soap, we are leaving her! She won't make it here in time and we need to go!" Ghost barked out, backing the truck up to run over two Shadows. Hearing Ghost's words sent a flow of panic through my veins as my inner omega pleaded from within to not be left. Just as he hit the gas, I jumped, grabbing ahold of the trucks tail gate. I, with much struggle, pulled myself into the back end, panting letting myself lay there as Soap shot any Shadows that were too close. By early morning, we pulled up to a building in the middle of nowhere, it seemed. Ghost and Soap stepped out of the truck with caution, Soap making sure to gesture for me to stay put.

"Where are we?" Soap asked stepping forward with Ghost not to far from him.

"Alejandro's safehouse. Gave me the location just in case." Ghost replied sounding very nonchalant about giving Soap the information.

"Why didn't he tell me?" Soap questioned back with a hint of joking banter.

"It was need to know." Ghost replied, his tone mixed with the same playful banter but seriousness laced in.

"What if I needed to know--?" Soap started, his voice sounding slightly offended.

"---Shhh." Ghost said quickly as they got closer to the building. Their playful banter made me smile softly at just how close the two were, not that either of them would genuinely admit. I watched as Ghost and Soap knelt down to examine something on the ground before Ghost glanced around at the building. Both he and Soap moved towards a window, Soap leading the way in first, and Ghost climbed up behind him.

"Don't move." Ghost said loudly and sternly. A call of Spanish could be heard before Soap's voice calling out Rodolfo was heard. His name was returned by this individual before things were quiet, I could only assume they were talking, but the anxiety began to eat at me. What if they were in danger? What if they needed help? A million and one thoughts raced through my head, making my inner omega stir within, a sense of distress flooded my veins. The main door to the building opened revealing Soap as he came stepping towards me. I made an attempt to stand up only to wince and drop with a whine of pain.

"Easy omega." He whispered as he opened the tail gate to gave me support. The way he said it made me shiver as I looked up at him in shock. Smiling, he pulled off his scent blocker, letting me get a clear smell of his natural alpha scent. The scent of burnt cinnamon and gun powder alone made my legs weak, the scent making my inner omega react blindly. My hand reached out and pulled him into a hug, rubbing against his scent gland. Soap didn't fight me or push me away, he simply let my inner omega bask in his heavy scent. The moment my mind registered my actions, I pulled away from him, desperately apologizing. He gave a laugh before nuzzling himself into my scent gland as well, only then realizing my patch had come off from the wind of Ghost driving.

"No need to apologize, I'm sure it's been a while since you've been around a proper alpha." He laughed, pulling himself away. Shyly nodding to him in agreement, I took his arm and limped to the safe house. Upon getting me in and seated in a chair, he jogged to close the door before returning to my side. Soap carefully ripped my leggings away from the bullet hole in my thigh to get a better look at it. A man I can only assume is Rodolfo handed Soap a medkit. Thanking the man, Soap got to work on patching my thigh up, I gritted my teeth through the pain before my eyes connected with Ghosts' own. Ghost gave me a simple nod before turning his attention to their friend to come up with a plan on getting their allies back from the Shadows. Gently, Soap moved my (h/c) (h/l) from my neck to reveal my scent gland before he gently placed a patch over it, once again masking my scent.

"Then let's go get our friend." Soap said, covering his own gland once more before stepping forward a bit. Rodolfo glanced at me, than looked back at Ghost and Soap, as if asking quietly about what would be done about me.

"She will stay here and wait for us to return, if anyone other than us show up, then she has full right to open fire on them." Ghost replied before turning towards me, " Understood?"

"Yes, sir." I replied, standing and catching a gun he tossed my way. I could see the pride in Soap's posture when he noticed Ghost had accepted me into their team. I could feel my inner omega pulling to get to Soap, but I knew very well he had work to do and that if I was lucky, I'd see him when he returned. I decided to keep my hopes up, feeling that it was the better option than keeping negative headspace. I knew very well why my inner omega wanted to be close to him, but it had been years since I was that open with an alpha. The last alpha I was close with treated me far from being his partner. He abused me in more ways than one, leaving my inner omega to feel broken and deprived of proper love and attention. I swore that I would never do that to either of us again, and yet here I was, yearning for an alpha I barely knew.

A gentle hand cupped my face, making me look up at the person in shock. Seeing Soap's bright blue eyes looking at me with concern, I offered him a smile as I nuzzled into his hand. A soft whisper of him saying 'thata girl' made my heart flutter. My nose brushed against his gland at his wrist, causing his scent to flood my senses. A sudden small whine left my throat as he started to pull his hand away. Soap chuckled softly before returning his hand, letting his scent rub off on me.

"I promise to return omega, and once all of this is over, I'll be sure to bring you with me. After all, Ghost and I wouldn't have made it without you." Soap purred softly, stepping closer to me, letting me bask in his warmth that radiated off of him in waves. Nodding, I let his hand pull away even though everything in me called to him. I watched him and his team leave to go save their allies. Everything in me wanted to scream for him to come back because I knew in his line of work there was a chance he wouldn't come back. Sighing, I began tasking myself with familiarizing myself with the surroundings.

Time passed both slowly and quickly for my liking, seeing as it was early morning when I could hear faint sounds of vehicles approaching. Sprinting over to snag a sniper rifle before sliding over to the window of the safehouse. In the distance, there were three vehicles approaching, taking a breath. I began preparing for the worse. I checked the rifle, making sure I had ammo on me and in the rifle. The closer the cars got, the more anxious I felt about the situation. I would be greatly outnumbered, I would be lucky if I made it from a fire fight like that. Taking a deep breath, I steady myself on the windowsill and took aim as the cars came to a stop. I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding as I saw Ghost jump out of the car and move to open the door. Clicking the safety back on, I jogged to greet him and help him with the door.

"Good to see Ghost." I chirpped my voice, giving away how tired I was. He nodded in return, his eyes showing that he too was tired. Ghost turned and gestured for the cars to pull in. As everyone got began getting out to the cars, I kept a vigilant eye out for Soap. A man with facial hair approached Ghost asking who I was. Ghost explained how I had survived Las Almas, where the Shadows had hunted the three of us down. Soap came into view cause my inner omega to grow excited, making everything I could to stop myself from running to him much harder. He offered a charming smile as he approached me, gently placing his hand against my cheek. I softly caressed his forearm and nuzzled into his scent gland. My (e/c) eyes fluttering close at the welcoming scent of the alpha in front of me.

"I see you found yourself someone to hold on to then Soap?" The man with facial hair questioned his face, showing a welcoming smile.

"Yes, Captian, this is (Y/n) an omega I came across in Las Almas. (Y/n) this is Captian Price, he and Ghost are both alphas." Soap explained before reaching his hand out to another males shoulder. "This here is Gaz, he is our local beta."

Excitedly, I shook hands with everyone in greetings, aside from Ghost, since we already knew each other. Price explained he has a safehouse with a girl named Laswell arranged and that we will all take a car and head there now. Nodding in agreement, we all bidded our farewells before loading up. I was sat between Gaz and Soap, while Price and Ghost were up front. It wasn't long into the ride that I felt Soap's hand reach for my own, his gland on his wrist lightly brushing against my own. The act made my body shiver in both comfort and excitement.

"So, (Y/n) what were you doing in Las Almas?" Price questioned, glancing at me in the rear view mirror before looking back at the road.

"I had gotten a travel pass to go with my companions. We were there to offer whatever help may have been needed. So, we offered schooling aid, medical aid, and even psychological aid." I explained, looking towards Price with a smile.

"That's really nice of you all. Did you all offer other services?" He questioned, showing he was curious about both my work but also if I would be a good fit for the team. I could tell by the way he asked and would occasionally glance at me.

"We were a team of omegas, so we had to be very careful about our scents. Our caretaker mentalities showed naturally when it came to helping fellow omegas, both old and young. We often had to deal with shootouts and common threats to our lives." I explained gently, squeezing Soap's hand. The thoughts that my previous pack more than likely was murdered from the Shadows made my heart feel as though it was being squeezed.

"I see. I'm glad you found my boys, from the sounds of it, you really saved them. Once all this is settled, I'd like to get you properly settled with the pack." Price expressed with a welcoming smile. I smiled back sweetly, letting the conversation settle into a comfortable silence. It didn't take long for my eyes to grow heavy and begin to flutter shut every so often. Soap picked up on my exhaustion, gently urging me to sleep. Nodding sleepily, I rested my head against his shoulder, letting my body absorb his scent and warmth. I wasn't sure how long I had slept or how long we all were in the car, but I could vaguely register my body being carried. I whined out, feeling Soap's warmth leaving my body before I could hear him chuckle.

"Easy sweetheart, we are safe. I need to get back to the pack because this mess isn't over just yet. I promise I'll return when all of this is over. Help yourself to any of my clothes that are here." Soap whispered, gently removing the patch over my gland. He lowered himself enough to gently nuzzle my gland, softly groaning at the flood of my scent. He lingered there for a bit before getting up and heading out to the pack. Letting my body curl up with some blankets that smelled of him brought some comfort. Before long, my body gave back into the pull of sleep, ignoring the fact that when I woke, the pack would be gone on their mission.

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 x reader #call of duty modern warfare 2 soap #call of duty modern warfare 2 soap x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 soap #cod mw2 soap x reader #abo story #abo fanfic

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chamomiletealeaf · 2 months

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Being so sensitive to squirting that the 141 make fun of your for it and have little competitions to see who can make you squirt the fastest :(

Johnny holds the record of 37 seconds from fingering you so fast you couldn’t tell when his fingers were inside or out of you.

After their little competition your poor pussy was so swollen and sensitive that all it took was a few rough spanks to your pussy from Price to make you squirt again.

“Oh well look at that? Seems we got a new record holder hm?” Price teases you and Johnny.

“That doesn’t count the competition is over!” Johnny exclaims angrily at Price.

Meanwhile Simon and Gaz are fucking rock hard from watching you squirt again so quickly.

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bigguyenthusiast · 3 months

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COD P★ LINKS

Yawll……dis is horny… so like fair warning

John price

Price tying you up after he catches you disobeying him by touching yourself :(

Overstimulation with John <3

Price eating you out after a loooooong mission

More price eating pussy (the guy LITERALLY looks like him or am I tripping)

Since you like using them so much, this shouldn’t be a punishment for you, correct ?

John getting you to ride his thigh

Theres a reason why they’re his favourite

Kyle Garrick

Gaz after ruthlessly fucking you for three hours ;3

What you get for flaunting yourself in front of his mates :(

Lazy night in with gaz

Shhh don’t want anyone to hear you

Late night humping with your clingy boyfriend

Roommate! Gaz getting tired of your horny whining

Simon Riley

Just a quick reminder of where you belong

Quick polishing’

A goodbye gift

A welcome home gift

Roommate! Ghost pounding you till you wake up :(

Owner! Ghost with his lil pup

Little film for later

Gettin’ crafty

John McTavish

Riding him until he’s dumb <3

Mornin sex with Johnny boy

Self restrain

Virgin! Johnny

Just his doll

Convincing your friend, Johnny to join your live 🫣

König

Hes just too big you needed a photo for confirmation

Need your colonel to reach you a lesson?

Just a quickie before he leaves for work

Quickie part 2

Good girls beg

#okay yall lemme go to bed #call of duty #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader #captain price #ghost #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #konig x reader #konig #konig cod #captain john price #john price x reader #john price

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loveindefinitely · 4 months

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task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.

-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)

thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.

one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.

cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.

he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.

"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.

you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."

his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."

you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.

johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.

three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.

manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.

"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.

you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."

a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"

you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."

the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.

"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.

"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.

"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.

"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"

it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.

johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.

"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.

johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.

"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.

"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"

you shudder.

"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.

he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.

"forty-three."

your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.

all you can manage is one question.

"take me home?"

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shadow4-1 · 1 month

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I'm just imagining the absolute mayhem that would ensue if you promised a kiss to whichever 141 guy wins their mock FIFA tournament.

"I'll kiss the winner if it means you guys'll just shut the fuck up already n' play!"

The way Gaz and Soap would immediately fight over a controller. Ghost would white knuckle his grip and narrow his eyes at the TV. Price would scoff and walk out because, while he can play decently well, he's used to the older versions of FIFA. Also, if he really wanted a kiss from you he'd rather get it without an audience and all the fanfare.

Of course Ghost kicked everyone's ass, although Gaz certainly gave him a run for his money. With how intense he'd gotten throughout the game, you thought he'd want his prize immediately. Instead he just mutters something hungrily in your ear before he leaves the rec room.

You've fucked up big time.

#cod imagines #mw2 #call of duty #mw2 headcanons #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #john soap mactavish #captain price #simon riley x reader

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konigsblog · 6 days

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P!LINK COD MWII MASTERLIST (🌽)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. STRICTLY 18+. ALL MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

BEWARE: DARKER THEMES BELOW.

PHOTO CREDIT: GLUTT_R ON 🐦/X

KÖNIG

riding könig for the first time (inexperienced!reader)

somnophilia with pervert!könig

taking kidnapper!könig for the first time

size difference with petite!reader and könig

“just the tip, könig.” with loser!könig

loser!könig who loses control (breeding kink)

being groped by kidnapper!könig (hole inspection)

forced breeding with pervert!könig

hope inspection with older boyfriend!könig

virginity loss with könig (virgin!reader)

letting virgin!könig use your body (virginity loss)

raped and recorded by könig

entertainment for kidnapper!könig (non-con)

raped in public by rapist!könig

incel!könig making porn for his online girlfriend

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

punishments with brat!reader and simon riley (brat taming)

relaxing simon riley with your pussy

‘obedience’ with simon riley

stepbrother!simon riley and his best friends

humping your stepfather's bulge

car sex with stepbro!simon riley

rough dom!simon riley and his fuck doll

being manhandled by your stepbrother

raped by kidnapper!simon

being filled by simon riley (breeding kink)

hole inspection with simon riley

cock worship with older boyfriend!simon

rough dom!simon x brat!reader (brat taming)

punishments with stepfather!simon

having your attitude fixed by your lieutenant

semi-clothed sex with pervert!simon

raped for intel by lieutenant!simon

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

pervert!soap x milf!reader (morning sex)

“just the tip, i promise.” with stepbro!soap

your needy stepbro attempting to distract you

rough dom!stepbro!soap punishing you

playful!stepbro!soap and his virgin stepsister virginity loss

stepbro!soap eating you out

cuddling fucking with stepbro!soap

drunken sex with loser!soap

“fuck, don’t stop, bonnie...” handjobs with soap

being fingered by stepbro!soap

mutual masturbation with soap

stepson!soap with stepmom!reader

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

shower sex with pervert!gaz

the type of videos gym bro!gaz sends you

riding gaz in your new lingerie

the result of getting high with stepbro!gaz

having your insides rearranged by gaz

riding gaz for the first time

“don’t pull out!” with pervert!gaz

sucking off gaz for the first time (inexperienced!reader)

letting virgin!gaz play with your cunt while you're high

treating soft!gaz to a handjob after his deployment

virgin!reader fucking themselves back on gaz

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

being eaten out by john price (1)

being eaten out by john price (2)

morning sex with older boyfriend!price

spit play with older boyfriend!price

morning sex with sugar daddy!price

being eaten out by sugar daddy!price

manhandled by price

making out with price

stepdad!price and his slutty, daft stepdaughter

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3archangelsaints · 1 month

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More Simon who doesn’t like being touched but he slowly becomes more affectionate, he seems more willing to bare himself to you, he has a hand on your shoulder blade, it’s very platonic touching, but considering it’s Simon, it’s the equivalent of a French kiss.

Simon rarely kisses you, but you’ve notice that whenever you’re sitting on a counter, he dips his head slightly, temple near your lips. “Where’s my kiss?” He’ll say gruffly.

You smile and press your lips against his hair. “Need ta wash your hair.”

“You do it.” He grumbles.

He loves it, being babied by his girlfriend in a platonic way, you’ve seen each other but never in a sexual way, which he appreciates but you’ve been very strict that nothing would happen until after marriage.

He learns to be vulnerable with you. It actually heals that part of him that he pushed aside thinking he was shameful and dirty for being sexually assaulted but he’s not.

And you handle him carefully. He’s like fractured glass that you’ve remelted and then slowly moulded into a man who is loved. And he is.

You don’t say it. Never wanting to saying first. You show it. Being together for almost two years throughout deployments and such and coming and goings you strive to be there for him. He does the same for you.

“Thanks lovie.” He says as you’re both in bed. You preen under the nickname, snuggling close to him, smiling to yourself. You think that’s the closest you’re going to get to an ‘I love you’. And that’s fine. Simon Riley shows love differently but he does it so there is no doubt in your mind.

#call of duty #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #cod ghost #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod soap #ghost cod #ghost fluff #cod fluff #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #x female reader #cod mw3

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thebrokenomega · 1 year

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Alpha!Soap x Omega!Civilian!Reader (Part 2) (Slight Smut)

I almost believed I had dreamt of Soap and his team when I awoke that afternoon. I took in the surroundings of the room, glancing at the minor traces that Soap had been there. His comforting scent of burnt cinnamon and gun powder lingered in the air, bringing me the slightest amount of comfort. I sat there in his bed for several minutes, hoping he would return to me safely. Slowly getting up, I looked next to his dresser inside the room to see bags of clothes. Curiously, I got up from the bed and gathered up the bags before sitting back in bed. The bags had various amounts of clothing that I could ever need undergarments, shirts, pants, shorts, and dresses.

I grabbed a matching pair of (f/c) thong and bra, (f/c) leggings, and one of Soap's shirts. I paused at the doorway to Soap's room, taking a deep breath of his scent before heading to the bathroom. The bathroom was very clean and nearly perfectly put together. The towels were hung on respective hooks with names for whose towels were whose. Inside the shower was unscented bodywash, with shampoo and conditioner that was also unscented. On the counter was an unopened toothbrush and a new hair brush for me to use. Smiling softly at the gestures, I moved to turn the water on. I let the water pour down on my fingers, waiting for it to warm up to my desired temperature.

Pulling my hand away, I began getting undressed, flinching at the pain in the thigh. Sighing, I sat down on the toilet lid, unwrapping my thigh from the bandaging Soap had done. Hissing at the bruising sight, I looked under the sink to find a medkit. Pulling out the medkit, I sat it down on the counter and opened it up. Grabbing a pair of tweezers, I sterilized it as well as my wound before taking a breath. I held my skin tightly as I pressed the tweezers into the bullet hole. The pain was burning through my veins like a bonfire, and every part of my brain screamed at me to stop. I pinched the tweezers on what I hoped was the bullet and pulled quickly. Screaming at the pain, I grabbed some gauze and held it over the hole.

Looking at the tweezers, I was relieved to see the bullet that had been stuck in my thigh this whole time. Quietly cursing to myself, I carefully pulled the gauze away to see the blood had mostly slowed its flow but was still there. Throwing away the gauze and sterilizing the tweezers once again, I stood up carefully to get into the shower. I relaxed under to hot water, letting it soothe out the sore muscles and wash away the grime from my body. Pumping some of the unscented bodywash into my hand, I began scrubbing the dirt away. I was careful in shaving my legs, under my arms, and between my legs, making sure not to cut myself. Washing my hair of the dried mud, blood, and sweat, I couldn't help but feel a thousand times better.

Getting out of the shower, I grabbed Soap's towel, gently drying my hair before wrapping it around my body. I gently patted the wound dry before I gathered an antibiotic ointment on my finger to rub it around the wound. I was quick to open up gauze and begin to wrap my thigh to make sure it was perfectly covered. Sighing once more, I cleaned up my mess and placed the medkit back under the sink. I took my time on opening the toothbrush and brushing my teeth before placing it aside to take with me to Soap's room. I got dressed carefully, making sure not to strain my leg or pull any of the sore muscles I had from running. After getting dressed, I pulled my (h/c) into a messy bun before making my way to the kitchen.

"If I'm going to be here, I might as well clean the place up." I said softly to myself as I looked at the stack of dirty dishes. Smiling, I glanced around the kitchen and spotted a radio on the counter. Moving over to it, I turned it on, finding a good music station to listen to before moving to start cleaning. Starting with the dishes, making sure to dry them and put them away. I knelt down to check under the kitchen sink for any cleaning supplies. I smiled in victory at the stash of full bottled cleaning supplies. I made quick but efficient work of cleaning the counter tops before moving to wipe the walls down. By the time I had finished cleaning the kitchen all the way, it was four in the afternoon, I had started at two in the afternoon. Deciding to take a break, I grabbed some coffee and toast.

As I ate, I began thinking of what I could do to speed up the time as I waited for my newly found pack to return. Deciding that today, at the very least, I could at least clean the safehouse. Finishing up my toast, I moved to finish cleaning the safehouse. Time passed quickly as I deep cleaned every part of the safehouse, organizing as I went. I finally made it back to Soap's room and took a deep breath, letting his scent flood me. Smiling, I moved to begin fixing up our room and make it more comfortable. I got lost in the music playing from the kitchen and my thoughts as I moved about the room. Before I even realized it, I had begun to nest on Soap's bed.

I paused everything I was doing and just blankly stared at the nest as the feeling of being vulnerable bubbled to the surface. I hadn't nested in years, I hadn't acted on those instincts in so long. I slowly eased myself into a sitting position in the nest, gently clinging to Soap's shirt. My inner omega beamed with pride at the sight of the nest, eager to show Soap, while I felt open and vulnerable. Memories of the last time I built a nest for an alpha flashed through my mind. The alpha criticized my work and openly told me he knew an omega who did it better. As if his words didn't hurt enough, later that week, I caught him with the other omega. He was so different with her than he was with me. He was gentle and loving with her while he was rough and cruel with me.

Sniffling softly at the hurtful memories that had resurfaced, I curled up with one of Soap's shirts. I had never felt so drawn to someone, let alone an alpha. He made me feel soft and light, and his genuine attention to me was unlike anything I experienced. I felt this pull to him, like I wasn't safe without him around. My inner omega felt excited and calm at the same time when I was around him, and that had to mean something. I would have to do more research when I was more awake and actually able to absorb information, but for now, that would have to wait. My eyes burned with the need to sleep, and rubbing my eyes made no difference.

My eyes began to drift shut from the mental and emotional exhaustion that came with those memories. Deciding to give in, I let myself drift off to sleep. My senses were filled with Soap's heartwarming scent, giving me gentle dreams of being with him and his pack. I woke myself whining out for his comfort. I felt as though I had only slept minutes, but the sun rising told me I had slept hours. Forcing myself out of the nest, I quietly stepped outside, letting the brisk cool pre-autumn air chill me. It wasn't cold enough to need a long sleeve or a jacket, but it was just a comfortable cool. I sat there on the front step with my eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the rising sun mixing with the crisp air.

Opening my eyes, I was greeted with an almost mystical sight. The grass had a light misting of mildew, and a light fog shrouded the distance. The soft calling of the birds was carried by the hushed whispers of a breeze. Basking in the warmth of the morning suns rays a bit longer, I watched the sky wondering where my new found pack was. I found myself hoping very strongly that they were all safe on their mission. Humming softly, I got up and made my way back inside, locking up the safehouse on my way in. I hummed whatever melody came to my mind while I made coffee to sip on. After fixing up my coffee, I headed back to Soap's room. Looking back at the nest, I let myself give into my nesting urges. I opened Soap's closet, grabbing blankets and sniffing for the ones that smelled of him the strongest.

Setting the ones I deemed the best aside, I began searching for extra pillows. Once I had my items set aside, I began stripping the bed of everything on it. If I was going to give into my nesting desires, I was going to let it be done the way my inner omega wanted. I would have to take it apart before the pack returned, but I needed to let the urge out. I shifted over to Soap's bed and began straightening the fitted sheet. Gathering up a couple of pillows, I placed them at the foot and head of the bed as well as along the sides. Moving over to the blankets, I knelt down gently touching the blankets to determine which one was the softest. I gathered up Soap's deep royal blue blanket and began placing it over the bed, pillows included. Gingerly tucking the blanket under the mattress to secure it properly, I maneuvered myself to gather up the second blanket.

It's a deep gray color tone, and it carried his scent the most. Slowly, I placed the blanket on top of the main nesting point, letting it rest in the center to be used to cover my body. I felt content with how the nest turned out, but the only problem was that it was lacking my scent. I moved about fixing Soap's room back into a clean and organized room. Once I got the room fixed back up, I turned out the lights and stripped off my leggings. Letting myself remain in my underwear and Soap's shirt, I climbed into the nest. I pulled the gray sheet over my body, basking in the warmth the blanket provided. A desire began to flourish in my body, a desire to feel full and be mated.

Whining I pulled the blanket over my head, wrapping my arms around my stomach. I really needed my suppressants, but they were ruined by the Shadows. I couldn't go into heat. I couldn't let that happen, not when I was just welcomed into the pack. Rocking my hips back and forth as though I were grinding on something only made my body ache more for a release. My whines grew louder as I shifted my body, so my hips were in the air. I let my sex be presented to nothing but the open walls of the room, gently rocking and pressing them back and forth, seeking some form of relief. The action alone made the muscles around my wound twinge in pain, but the desire was overwhelming. Softly moaning to the open air, I buried my nose into the royal blue blanket. Soap's heavy scent further fueled my desire to be filled and bred.

My right hand desperately began rubbing my clit, slick already making me embarrassingly wet. The light sounds of my hand rubbing quickly at my dripping sex were bouncing off the walls of the room. My hips continued to greedily rock and grind against my fingers as mewls and pleas left my lips. My mind danced with the ideas of Soap praising me and giving into his inner alpha. These ideas ranged from him simply breeding me wherever he wanted to him mating me and laying claim to my inner omega. In the haze of arousal, my mind registered the heated coil beginning to tighten in my lower stomach. Desire burned hotter with each passing second, drawing more whines and moans from my lips. I eagerly eased two fingers into my entrance, swiftly thrusting my hips back against them, seeking my release.

The muscles in the hips and thighs burned and twitched from the action, but my desperation kept me moving. Moaning out loudly, I could feel the coil growing tighter and my walls clinching around my fingers. My mind simply repeated pleas of more, and please, the closer I grew to my climax. Soap's scent shrouded my mind like fog from a hot shower to a mirror. My mind was merely focused on the blissful mix of his scent and my pleasure that I lost the sense of my surroundings. Crying out alpha, the coil snapped, causing my walls to quiver around my fingers. Slick gently oozed down my finger into my hand, making me whine and bury my face into the sheets. I could tell my body was entering a pre-heat stage, flaring my inner omegas' desire to nest and seek a mate.

I whined as I removed my fingers from my sex and leaned up to sit against my feet. With a soft, slow inhale, I got up and began making my way to the bathroom to shower. I was swift to undress the remainder of my clothing and take special care of my thigh. Climbing into the shower, I let the hot water help me clean myself up. I eased myself to the bottom of the tub, lightly curling up under the spray of the water. Why now of all times for my heat to start? The only time the suppressants no longer do their job is when omegas meet their fated pair. That couldn't be it. Soap couldn't be my fated pair. No, this had to be because my suppressants got ruined, and I hadn't had time to get more. That had to be the reason, and I plan to stick with it until proven otherwise. Sighing heavily, I turned the water off and got out of the shower.

Being careful about drying my thigh, I took the time to apply more ointment and gauze. Feeling foggy and like I couldn't think straight, I moved to get dressed and headed to lay back in the nest. I closed my eyes, hoping that if I went to sleep that I would wake up, and my heat would be only a dream. Each dream that came to me was intimate, causing me to occasionally wake up whining before drifting back to sleep. I wasn't sure what time it was, but I immediately nuzzled into the hand that was softly rubbing my cheek. Freezing in fear, I looked up and saw a female her hair was this beautiful mix between dirty blonde and light brown. Her gentle smile was strengthened by the same look in her blue eyes.

"Relax, I am Kate Laswell, and I work with the boys. I went on the mission with them, and we all agreed to regroup here." She calmly expressed watching me and my reactions.

"Is he okay?" I asked, glancing around the room for Soap, unable to even smell his scent on her. A soft smile came to her lips before she got up and moved to the door. Kate opened the door and called Soap. Quick footsteps sounded from the hallway as he approached her. With no hesitation, Kate stepped aside, letting him in his room before closing the door. Flushing, I quickly looked down, embarrassed that he was seeing me like this.

"Oh love, the nest is beautiful. It looks so warm and welcoming, it's perfect." Soap whispered, stepping over to gently cup my face. His rough hand lifted me face to look at him. He smiled his same charming smile, reassuring me that he was okay with me nesting. Everything in me screamed for his touch, screaming for more. I reached up, grabbed a hold of his tactical vest, and pulled him forward.

"Omega, I need your permission to enter your nest first." Soap insisted, making sure no part of his body touched the nest.

"Please~ Alpha, come in." I pleaded, letting my inner omega bleed through. With a please rumble, Soap made quick work of removing his boots and gear. Letting them hit the floor before he climbed into the nest. My hands instantly reached for his face, gently touching the bruising and cuts that most likely came from the mission.

"You're hurt." I whined gently, nuzzling against him. Soap carefully pulled me into his lap, my legs resting on the outside of his.

"Aye, the mission got a little rough, but it's nothing I can't handle." Soap remarked, reaching up to pull the scent blocking patches away from his glands. The heavy hit of his scent drew a whining moan from my lips, my mind registering that my sex was pressed against his own. The amount of willpower it was taking to not grind and get off against him was only making me feel all that more desperate. A low groan snapped me back to reality, and I became aware of him growing excited against me.

"Soap, please." I whined, burying my head into his neck, brushing my nose against his scent gland.

"John, my name is John. I've got you, Omega, do what you need." Soap encouraged, his large hands coming down to my hips. With a soft pull, He rolled my hips forward against his pulling a moan from my throat. Eagerly, I placed my hands against his shoulders and began grinding my sex against his own. Soap leaned back, letting his back rest against the wall, giving me more stability to move how I needed. My rich scent of jasmine and saffron dancing and mixed with Soap's burnt cinnamon and gun powder scent. Mewling in pleasure, I pulled him in for a kiss, the light scratch of his facial hair adding pleasure.

"Good girl~" Soap purred when I pulled back. His praise sparked a shiver to roll through me, more slick oozing out. I could feel how soaked my panties were against my own skin. A faint worry of getting the slick on his jeans flickered in my mind. Soap's hand tugged me against him harder, drawing noises from the both of us. The roll of my hips grew more frantic as I felt my release drawing near. Muttering pleas to him only made his grip on me grow all the much tighter. I came undone, frantic, grinding my dripping sex against his own when he licked at my mating gland. Soap purred at the sight and gently lifted me from him, laying me down below him.

"Good girl~ my turn, okay?" He asked, rutting his hips against me. Nodding quickly, I hooked my legs around his hips, my legs twitching in overstimulation. It didn't take long before Soap shifted to pull his cock free from his jeans. Continuing his quick movements of rutting his half exposed cock agaisnt me, I glanced down to watch him. His cock was glistening with his pre-release, the tip turning red. He was thick, bright blue veins showing from what was exposed. Just as my body was reaching its limit of overstim, Soap gave a low growl as he began to cum. His thick seed painting just above my underwear, moving on instinct, I gathered some on my fingers and cleaned it away. Groaning, Soap gathered more of his seed on his fingers before pressing them into my mouth. Once they were clean, he pulled away, his eyes feeling predatory as he watched me.

Taking a minute to gather ourselves, Soap adjusted his underwear to cover his length. Just as I had worried about his jeans were wet with my slick. I muttered an apology as my face began to burn with embarrassment. Chuckling Soap stripped his jeans, tossing them to the floor before he laid next to me. Pulling me to rest against him, Soap gently scented me.

"For now, don't worry about any of the clothes, I'll clean them or buy more as needed. Rest while you can love." He rumbled lightly, kissing me. I let out a content whine, letting my body relax against his. Sleep pulling me quickly due to my release, leaving me tired.

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sweet-as-an-angel · 9 months

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MW2 Reaction to You Being A Virgin

Warnings: 18+, Implications of Smut, Corruption Kink, Purity Kink, Innocence Kink, Ownership Kink, Age Gap, Implied Slight Yandere Graves Inexperience, Objectification, Dominant MW2, Soft MW2, Gaz is anxious :-( but trying his best, MW2 Trying To Be Smooth, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Ghost

The fact that you, innocent, are his to love and corrupt sends white-hot anticipation between his legs.

He’s imagined what you’d be like in bed: how you’d take him, the sounds you’d make. Of course he has – practically everyone on Base has.

But now, his fantasies are tinged with something feral. A primal need to show you that he is the best choice for you (even if he doesn’t believe it himself) – the only one strong enough and skilled enough to be yours and to make you his.

He’s fantasised about you looking up at him with doe eyes while he pins your wrists to the mattress, voice meek as you tell him, as if it’s a secret, that you’ve “Never done this before…”

He can’t live without it. The fact that he can – will – be your first time. Satisfy you in ways nobody else will ever be able to compete with.

He’d never admit it, but a dark part of him has plagued him with ideas of ravaging and corrupting you, about making your first time so pleasurable and carnal that nobody will ever be able to satisfy you as he can.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” he tells you, taking your chin between his fingers. He lowers his lips to your ear. You don’t see the dark gleam in his eye. Don’t see the deliciously dark idea cross his mind – the impulse to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to feel anything, nevermind pain. And he makes a promise to you anyway.

“I’ll take care of you.”

König

“Thought as much.” König’s words are blunt yet sharp.

“Seeing as you have everyone wrapped around your finger, it’s clear you have no regard for the way you conduct yourself.”

You may construe König’s words as mean. Derogatory, even. He means it as a compliment. Even if you don’t know it yet.

“You think I don’t see the way you flaunt yourself in front of the soldiers – thinking that you’ll be able to get away with it without consequence.”

König’s frame towers over you. His gaze is ice, and any trace of the socially anxious soldier you knew is gone.

“I wonder how you like it.” he muses aloud. His voice is tinged with something unreadable. Venomous.

“How you’ll take it. Rough, gentle…” His eyes narrow.

“Mean.”

He’s boxed you in with his stature alone.

“Makes no difference to me,” he tells you. Deceptively calm. And then, an offer. One you can’t refuse.

“I’ll fuck you every which way until I find what makes you scream the loudest.”

Soap

“Oh, really?” he says, eyebrow quirked and a hidden smile teasing his lips.

Johnny really couldn’t care less that you’ve never had sex before. But, the fact that you shared this information with him – albeit after he steered the conversation towards more…intimate topics – gave him hope that you were hinting towards something.

Something that Johnny’s wanted since he realised he was massively, whorishly down bad for you.

From his position opposite you, against the kitchen counter, he takes a step forward.

“I suppose you’re not very experienced then, are you?”

He advances until he’s in front of you. A wolf and a lamb. Close enough that you can smell his cologne.

His eyes are piercing, but there is a softness behind them. Something that writhes and wants and needs.

His hands come to rest upon the counter behind you. Nowhere for you to run. The heat from his body is scorching.

“Though, I’d be more than happy to…” His voice husks. “Beef up your résumé.”

Valeria

Corruption kink to the MAX

Valeria is a territorial, dominant woman – that much is easy to see.

And the fact that you haven’t had anyone else before her just does something to her.

Alters her brain chemistry permanently.

There’s not one soldier, police officer or government official she doesn’t own in Las Almas.

So why shouldn’t she own you, too?

Now she’s thinking of every conceivable way she’s going to take ownership of you.

She thinks about it so often that she struggles to complete her paperwork without having to disperse the issue before she can continue.

But be warned: there will come a day when satisfying herself just won’t cut it. When she’s going to seek you out and ruin you.

“It might hurt at first, mi Amor,” she tells you, hand stroking your cheek, coming down to your jaw. “But trust me when I say that–”

Her hand grips your jaw. Tight. A viper’s strike. A fire burns in her eyes and the corners of her lips curl up in a cruel smile.

“I’ll make it hurt a whole lot more if you don’t do as I say.”

Price

Given his age, Price has had his fair share of experiences.

But that doesn’t harden him to the simple fact that you haven’t.

In his eyes, there’s something endearing about how you’ve yet to give yourself to another person.

Another person that, he hopes, will someday be him.

The idea makes something in him stir. The fact that the difference between your age and his makes him that much more confident in his ability to please you in ways no mere boy can makes him anxious to act.

“Oh. Is that right, Love?” He says, eyes light and his smile dangerous.

“S’ppose you’re waiting for the right person.” His posture is inviting. Tempting. Belies the rush he’s feeling — the desire to have you at his mercy in the most carnal sense.

“Pretty little thing like you, you could have your fill of men.”

He’s angling for something. His face says it all.

He steps towards you. Again. Again. He’s in front of you.

His chest is almost to yours. His smile is shallow now. Strained. Like his pants.

“Probably looking for someone with experience.”

He thrives on the way your chest flutters. His does, too, but it’s masked beneath a heavy stare.

“And trust me, Love,” his voice is low. A message for you and you alone as he brings his lips to your ear, breath hot against your skin.

“I’ve got plenty to spare.”

Horangi

You don’t hear it for his mask, but Horangi lets out a shuttered breath.

“That’s why you’re always so quiet when sex talk comes up.”

He says it as a fact, but you take it as a question. You nod.

Horangi’s arms unfurl from his chest, come to rest at his sides. He’s looking at you.

Even through the layers of his mask, his gaze is heavy. Leaden.

He steps towards you. His frame, broad, fills your vision.

You can hear how heavy his breathing has become. How thick the air is.

How much he’s trying to restrain himself.

“How about a deal,” he proposes. Commands.

“You give me something to have a nice, long, hard think about,” his hips are to yours. You feel him pressing against you.

“And I’ll give you something to talk about.”

Alejandro

“You surprise me, mi amor,” he says, natural as anything. As if he already knew.

“I’d have thought someone would have swooped in and claimed you by now.”

Truth be told, Alejandro wanted to be that somebody so badly that it made him ache in places he’d rather not think about. Especially when you’re already making containing himself incredibly difficult with that pouting, wide-eyed, innocent look.

God, you had no idea what you were doing to him.

“Or…are you saving yourself for someone specific?”

Before you, his frame is broad and imposing even without all his military gear on.

He takes your chin between his fingers. Tilts your head so your gaze can’t escape his. A shiver runs up his spine at the sound of your breath stuttering.

His words aren’t rhetorical. He’s pulled the answer from you – seen it in your eyes.

“Or are you just waiting for a man who knows how to take care of you?”

Rodolfo

“O-oh!” Rudy chokes out. His cheeks are already giving way to a telltale pink. He tries to cover it.

“But– you’re so pretty and smart and kind – I thought you’d have a boyfriend by now!”

In some ways, Rudy’s a bit of a traditionalist: his mind still jumps to the idea that you’d typically only be intimate with someone you’re already in a relationship with.

Not that he’d judge you if this were not the case for you.

But he sees his chance. And he takes it.

“Well, if you’re not with anyone, then…would you like to go out sometime? With me?”

His eyes are wide and filled with hope – something you’d never have expected from a man in such a brutal line of work.

Sex is the last thing on his mind right now: truly, he’s so taken in with the idea that you’re single and available that your sexual status means very little to him.

Though, that isn’t to say he hasn’t thought about you like that before, or that he hasn’t spent many a night with his face smothered with pillows as your name escapes from between his lips, panting, moaning.

That’s a little secret for you to uncover later in your relationship…

Graves

“So you’re tellin’ me that no one’s had the privilege of fuckin’ that pretty little ass of yours?”

Graves sure has a way with words.

For all his slimy business practices, this is the one time he’s genuinely surprised. Unable to be slick.

He puts his game face on. Gives you a half-lidded stare and lowers his voice. His heart hammers: he conceals it behind a cool tone.

“Well, colour me impressed, Angel,” he says. A hand comes to the hem of your shirt, takes it between slow, intentional fingers. He has to resist the urge to look at your chest when he pulls the fabric taut.

“And here I was thinkin’ I already knew everything about you.”

He’s moving in before you can analyse his statement. Before you can begin to understand how badly this man has lusted after you – how deeply entrenched in your life he’s become. And all without you knowing.

He places a hand on the wall behind you. Presses himself closer to you.

“How much to let me be the first,” he drawls. Your eyes widen. His thin smile grows.

“And last.”

Gaz

Bless his little cotton socks, he doesn’t know what to do with both this information and himself.

See, despite being incredibly intelligent, Gaz is still the youngest of the 141, so he’s not entirely accustomed to situations like this.

He can’t tell if you’re hinting, flirting, or just telling him something about yourself.

He remembers what Soap taught him, though.

Should a situation arise where someone is flirting with you, just use your intuition and don’t fuck it up.

Gaz leans against the doorframe, almost misses, scrambles to resume his ideal posture.

“Oh, so we’re more similar than you’d think, then.”

He can feel Soap banging his head against a wall. Jesus, Gaz – at least try to impress (Y/N) !

At your raised eyebrow and your playful “Oh?” Gaz coughs. His voice lowers.

“But…” he steps closer. “Maybe we can un-virgin each other.”

Long story short, Gaz has no idea what he’s talking about. But, somehow, his nervous disposition and pretty boy charm have enamoured you. And you may have told him you’d take him up on his offer 👀.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

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chamomiletealeaf · 7 months

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Thought of this at work today lmao

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criminalamnesia · 4 months

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Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn��t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

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mockerycrow · 7 months

Note

The 141 boys having to physically hold back their much smaller but freakishly strong female teammate or S /O when someone is stupid enough to insult her and/or her boys

!!fem!reader!! — can interpreted as platonic or romantic

“Fuckin’ hell, hey—“ Price hisses as he stumbles, his arm wrapped around one of yours as Soap holds onto your other arm. They’re both in stances to hold you back yet despite your size, BOTH of them are struggling. Soap lets out a grunt as you struggle, nearly ripping yourself out of their grips. “Let go of me, lemme show that son of a bitch a piece of my mind—“

Gaz steps in front of your line of sight, holding his hands up as if he’s calming a wild animal. “Heyy, let’s just calm down, yeah? Their words aren’t worth anything, sweetheart.” You look at him desperately, your tone still filled with frustration and rage. “They have no right to say what they fucking said, Gaz! How could you let that slide?? And in front of the other recru—“

Your angry yelling is cut off with a familiar large, warm hand wrapping around the back of your neck and squeezing. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, the anger still stirring but no longer boiling over—you stop struggling. “Take a deep breath, love.” Ghost rumbles from behind, causing the hair on the nape of your neck to stand up against his gloved palm.

You obey, taking a deep breath. “Good, now breathe out slowly.” Price says lowly, his voice closer than normal—he must’ve stepped closer. “That’s it, lass. Good, another?” Soap utters, making you nod. You take another deep breath and as you do, you feel a hand—Gaz’s, as the hand is coming from in front of you—touch your cheek and then your forehead.

“There we go.” Ghost hums, letting go of your neck. You open your eyes and the other two let go of you, Gaz putting his hand on your shoulder. “Better?” Gaz asks softly, making you nod in response. “Better.” You confirm, causing Soap to chuckle. “Nearly ripped my arm off, bonnie. Keep that strength in check, why dont’cha?”

#141 blurb #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #141 x reader #task force 141 #soap x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #cod #mw2022 #modern warfare ii #mw2 2022 #crow’s thoughts #price x reader

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yawnderu · 29 days

Text

Can't stop thinking about Simon crying while making love.

It's all too tender, too soft and loving, the sheer adoration in your teary eyes forcing him to swallow down the knot building up within his throat as his thrusts grow deeper, his calloused hands displaying an uncharacteristic amount of gentleness as they roam all over your body.

His warm face finds shelter on the crook of your neck, hot, deep exhales hitting your sensitive skin as tears slip out of his closed eyes for the first time in over a decade, his pale nose growing rosy against you as he sniffs, not wanting to dirty you with his runny nose— not wanting you to see him as pathetic, not wanting to explain that it's the first time his body belongs to him, the first time he's willingly sleeping with someone.

Your soft hands are a sheer contrast to the roughness he's used to, caressing the bumps from his scars with nothing but pure reverence, coming up to the back of his head, pressing his face closer to your neck, thankful for the choked sob that leaves your lips at the trust he's displaying, as it muffles his own.

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penguinbuttcheeks · 1 month

Text

- johnny ‘soap’ mactavish is absolutely livid when he sees a picture of you being shared around base - tears in your eyes and clothes drenched in water, making the fabric stick to your body uncomfortably, your arms tightly wrapped around your torso in humiliation.

- the cherry on top? the dog collar around your neck with your dog tags hanging on display, dangling between your collarbones.

- you’ve only just finished your first week on base as the newest recruit, but that excited spark in your eyes was quickly diminished

- he doesn’t even know your name, but what he does know is he won’t stand for the blatant disrespect towards the new recruits he’s going to be training and fighting alongside

- hazing is a strictly prohibited practice, but with no way to trace down who the original photographer was, none of the higher ups are able to enforce any form of punishment

- it makes him see red

- soap will go out of his way to beat the ever loving shit out of any soldier that has the picture saved to their phones, forcing them to delete it right before his eyes before spitting on them and walking away

- word on base is quickly spread and soldiers scramble to make sure there is no trace of the photo on their phones. you have a death wish if you’re willing to anger the 141 sergeant

- you’re quick to notice the sudden change in attitude towards you, no longer being called demeaning nicknames or tormented by the soldiers around you

- what you fail to notice however, is the sharp glare johnny sends their way as he trails behind you several metres back as you navigate through the halls, soldiers quickly averting their gaze or ducking their heads

- you shrug it off, ruling it down to your initiation finally being complete once the photo was snapped

- such a clueless little hen, completely unaware of the constant presence that lingers just out of your line of sight

- it’s a blessing that soap took an interest in you. he might just have to finally introduce himself once all the commotion has died down

- he can’t wait

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vanderilnde · 2 months

Text

you buy a second-hand laptop from a dodgy craigslist user only to make a carnal discovery hidden between the files.

cw for anal sex, face fucking, pet play, choking, masturbation, noncon filmed sex, overall dubcon, reader is fujoing out

ghoap (x reader)

You saw it in a flitting advertisement. Used Acer Aspire V5, female buyers only, and didn’t hesitate to contact the poster.

Ghost was his screen name. Macabre, but not something to dwell on because he’s selling the only affordable hand-me-down you can find. He insisted on meeting at a hole-in-the-wall pub, beneath a metal sheet awning. There’s a cigarette pinched between his lips as you approach, an overripe mask rolled over his broken nose.

“You’re our bird?” He asks in a Manchester hint, exhaling a plume of off-white smoke.

You stifle over that operative word—our—but push through it and meekly nod, preening at his feet.

Beneath the predatory glint of his eyes, you realize you’ve gravely miscalculated the calibre of this situation. Meeting a complete stranger in a gritty alleyway and waiting to pick up his scrap-metal laptop, all because it satisfies your budget.

“Yeah…” you mumble. Try to make yourself invisible even though it’s redundant—he already towers over you, his shadow eclipsing your body, his heat drinking you in.

“‘ere it is,” he grunts. “You’ve got our cash?”

You hand him the crumpled wad of paper, squirming as he passes his thumb over his tongue and folds through the money, counting it with a mean curl of his lips.

“That’s– is everything alright?”

He stuffs the money into his jacket and expells a deep prusten sound, like an idle predator. “Fine. Pleasure doin’ business with you, bird.”

Ghost turns on his mud-clogged boot and strays off, letting the shadows swallow him whole. You hold the bulky laptop to your chest and wield it like a weapon on your way home, finally settling into bed, ready to examine your new purchase.

The hinges creak as you pull it open. A grimace splits your cheeks at the dust crusted in the margins, the rings of juice gummed to the mousepad.

A few letters from the keyboard are missing, and a few strips of tape look dog-eared, peeling from the corners, exposing the laptop’s internal wiring. Gossamer-like, spiderweb cracks work across the edges. The screen is a blotchy eyesore, striated with horizontal lines.

You have to beat your knuckles on the laptop to keep it from jamming. You navigate the desktop with simmering irritation, invaded by the inkling that you’ve been utterly scammed. Nothing matches the photos advertised on Ghost’s account, and just as your annoyance is about to ripen into white-hot anger, something catches your eye.

It’s nestled into a nook on the desktop. It’s an unnamed folder that stares back at you, unassuming, the icon already half-opened and waiting to be examined.

You double click it, more like triple click, actually, since the mousepad decides to cramp, and squirm as the folder flares over the screen. It’s a collection of videos, their thumbnails all spotty and dark, eclipsed by the thumb of whoever’s holding the camera.

Their titles are as cryptic as their photos.

wet.avi; tail_plug.avi; no_prep.avi; with_price.avi.

You find yourself scrolling lower, your fingers working against the mousepad like a rapidly unfurling spool of thread. You decide to investigate one of the videos, one with a foggy, filmy thumbnail, and carefully heed the title before poising your finger above the open function.

johnny_leash.avi

The video is grainy, as if it was imported from a camcorder rather than a phone. The first few seconds are a blurry with grey-scale strobes running across the screen, radiating an aura of seediness that makes a hint of discomfort sink like sediment in your stomach, adhering to your viscera. A deep, damp squelching sound peals out, tempered with the sticky noise of something being broken in, hollowed out.

The camera ebbs, settles, then focuses all at once. You think you’re going to faint.

It’s someone’s puffy ass getting stretched out on a fat cock. It puckers and tightens with each piston-paced thrust, red.

A large hand belonging to the person recording enters the frame. Their hand tattoos stretch as they split their palm across the hind of their spine, the cameraman’s fingers digging sickle-shaped scratches into their back, clawing them down on their battering ram of a cock.

“Quit whinin’, Johnny,” the voice behind the camera loudly grunts.

The one getting split open, Johnny, snivels into the pillow. His spine is curved into the mattress, his ass pert and sticking in the air, rippling with the force of the cameraman’s hips.

A plume of dust travels over the screen, fleetingly concealing the image. When the soot thins into the air and bares the salacious material of the video, you gasp.

There’s a glint caught on something silver from the feeble lightning. It’s a chrome-plated chain, you see, connecting to Johnny’s throat. A leather collar cutting into his ruddy skin. The leash is wrapped around the cameraman’s hand like a reel, and each time he tugs, pulling his hand back as if winding up for an attack, Johnny gets peeled off the bed, his back arching so deep you’re sure it’s close to snapping.

“Shit, Simon—!” He squeals. “Can ye… slow down?”

The aforementioned Simon grunts. Animalistic, like a rabid predator. The camera whirls, the unromantic colours of the room they’re in bleeding into each other, and when it focuses, you see Simon’s large palm splayed against the back of Johnny’s half-shaven skull, gripping his hair, pushing him into the bed.

The man flails like a fish out of water, struggling under his hand. It prompts an emergency response out of you—the way he’s being fucked into the mattress, no doubt pressing a Johnny-shaped chalk outline like the ones at crime scenes into the bedding. Alarm seizes you, and the thought of submitting this to the authorities trumpets like strobe lights in your mind.

The video is written with inept non-professionalism, reeking with the sentiment of a found-footage horror film that it’s not the authenticity that rattles your bones like a wind chime, but the morality.

You tell yourself to stop the video, but as the thought squeezes itself between your ears, Johnny’s hoisting his neck back and peering into the camera, his striking-blue eyes flaring in all-encompassing horror. His lips pop open and wrap around a soundless scream, warbling.

“Yer recordin’ me?”

“Smile for the camera, Johnny,” Simon pants. “Who knows who might see this, right?”

Simon shoots his hand up and bullies his fingers past Johnny’s lips. He sinks his nails into the round of his mouth, stretching his cheek back into a repugnant curl. It’s paradoxial—how Johnny’s mouth is pulled into a smile, but his eyes are wide and wet, wordlessly begging.

Your body betrays your moral plight.

Your rapt ocular vein, the signals rushing to your mind, your nipples stiffening in your shirt. You feel as though you’re made of livewire, not matter, as you watch Johnny’s ass get spread open on Simon’s cock, his eyes rolling like unruly billiard balls to the back of his head.

His ass is red and patchy, burning up. Simon’s hand swats through the air and makes the sound of a whistle, flaring into a booming crack of thunder whenever he brings it down on Johnny’s ass. It makes you jump. Makes you feel as if your ass is being abused by proxy just by sitting, and watching raptly.

Instead of inching your hand towards the button that exits the video, your hand dips below your waistband and moves to cup your cunt.

The gusset of your panties is already hot, clinging to your dewy core. It sticks to your pussy, baring your puffy lips and swollen clit. You give it a few slaps and rub your fingers languidly, pace quickening.

But the video abruptly ends before the ascent to your pleasure is able to materialize. You yank your hand from your pussy, smearing your arousal on the mousepad as you search for another video.

You don’t heed the title—face_fuck.avi—before clicking it and readily spreading your legs, flushing at the sound of your lips parting.

The video starts, and you swear it feels like you’ve been hit with a brick.

Simon—or Ghost, you now recognize—is a behemoth. Huge would be an understatement for him. The camera is set up this time, somewhere across the room, but Simon still just barely fits within the margins. He’s folded over Johnny who sits on his knees with his back against the wall, his neck hoisted up at him.

Simon’s cock is fat and heavy. He’s hard—this, you’re sure of because of how red his balls are—yet still, his cock droops with weight, the bulbous tip scarcely teasing Johnny’s lips.

“You want your snack, boy?”

Johnny nods. He darts his tongue out and tries kitten licking the slit, but Simon isn’t having that. He grips the base of his dick and swats it against Johnny’s cheek, slapping him, the noise so thick and resounding it sounds like a palm that breaks his skin, not a cock.

“Greedy bitch,” Ghost snarls—you decide that name is more seemly for him—“Can’t wait when it comes to dick, huh?”

Johnny’s lips part, a response poised behind his chattering teeth. However, his reply gets snuffed out and shoved to the back of his throat as Ghost feeds him his cock, slamming into him with one, slick motion.

Johnny’s head hits the wall, his face puckering as pain blooms behind his skull. The action makes his jaw clench, clamping down on Simon’s cock, but Simon is quickly gripping his hair and puppeting his head back, sliding his cock deeper, until the tuft of steel-wool hair on his pelvis brushes Johnny’s nose.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Ghost grunts. “No teeth.”

The only mercy Johnny is afforded is when he sinks his nails into the sinews of Ghost’s thighs, scratching him striated, trying to offset the burn in his jowls. The back of his head thumps dumbly against the wall with each of Ghost’s jackhammering thrusts, his smaller cock springing up and slapping against his navel.

You keen. Rub your clit a little faster, tease your forefinger around your winking hole as spit and precome sticks to Johnny’s chin the same way your juices strings your fingers together. Johnny goes lax and the video abruptly ends, and you almost feel yourself going crazy, hastily exiting the video because you miss the phantom sensation around your cunt getting stretched. You click on another video that has your heart jumping to your throat.

It’s dated from just yesterday, two days after you placed the order with Ghost.

breeding_my_boy.avi

Your panties are completely soaked through at this point. The image of Johnny folded like origami under Ghost, eclipsed by his body, makes you gush. His knees are pressed against his ears and his ass is in the air while Ghost tugs his cock, towering over him and pressing his tip against his hole, slowly sinking into him.

Simultaneously, you hook two of your fingers up your cunt. Your arousal seeps out and pools into the divots between your knuckles, hot and wet, making a sucking sound as you draw your fingers out and thrust them back in, pawing your walls.

Ghost pulls his cock to the tip before driving himself back inside. He’s deeply-seated, knocking the air out of Johnny’s lungs with each stroke. Ghost draws his thighs close for leverage and sinks his fists into the bed, on either side of Johnny before snapping his hips, feeding him his whole cock.

You sink your other hand below your pants and blindly sweep at your clit, watching with keen eyes as Johnny gets pounded into the mattress, his legs thrashing dumbly with the force, his hands twisting into the moth-eaten sheets because he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands and according to Ghost, he’s “not allowed to touch his cock.”

You can barely see Ghost’s sweat in the coarse-grained, gritty video filter. It comes out as glistening dew, dribbling down his neck and onto Johnny’s cheek, to which he swiftly laps up.

It’s the same thing for Johnny’s tears—sparkling in the soft smoulder of light, smearing like spread as Ghost works his rough tongue against his cheek, licking up his brine.

Johnny’s whimpers and the crack of flesh against flesh emanate out of the janky laptop as tinny, thin. However as Ghost lowers his head, grumbling against the hull of Johnny’s ear, whispering, the thin sound travels out of the speakers and punctures your stomach.

“Wish I could breed you, pup…”

Pleasure gyrates in your belly, frothy. You curl your toes into your mattress and buck into your fingers, feeling your orgasm beginning to crest. You pinch your clit the same way Ghost snakes his hand low, trapping the tip of Johnny’s cock between his fingers to squeeze.

“Smile a’ the camera, dog,” he mutters. Takes him by the jaw and dimples his cheeks as he makes Johnny look into the lens, his eyes glossed over.

“Y’reckon she’s touching herself?” Ghost growls. “Watching you turn a mess?”

Your orgasm is on the edge now. Ghost looks at the camera, his eyes glowing like predators do on trail cams, a swill of molten rushing through you. He looks like he did beneath the awning—animalistic, as he seems to stare directly at you, snapping into Johnny’s ass.

“m gonnae come…” Johnny whimpers.

Ghost chokes his hand around Johnny’s cock, sliding his hand up and down to the pace of his thrusts. And with what happens next, your body girdles, throwing itself into the throes of your panoramic orgasm.

It’s Johnny. Bending his back off the bed and squeezing his thighs. He moans your name—your screen name—the one used to purchase the laptop. He treats it like something to bite on to defer the pain of his orgasm, trembling.

Thick ropes of come shoot from his cock just as an off-white liquid escapes you, splattering over the screen. You’re quivering as Ghost fills Johnny, watching as his balls tighten and breathe like a pulse as he comes inside.

The three of you are miraculously synchronized. Your laboured breaths simmer, thinning into nothing, as the two of them turn to look at the camera.

You undertake the decision to keep the laptop.

And a week later while browsing Craigslist’s homepage, you stumble across a familiar username.

Posted by Ghost 32 minutes ago.

Looking for a flatmate in Manchester. Two roommates. Three bedroom. Females only. Serious inquiries only.

A second doesn’t pass before you’re writing up your application.

#ghost x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #ghost/reader smut #soap/reader #soap mactavish smut #ghost smut #ghostsoap x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost/reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #ghoap writing

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