#ghost x rodolfo

[hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform]

Kinktober 2023 Day Nineteen

Hate Sex

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Rodolfo Parra

Rudy had been waiting for days to say something to Ghost. He’d bitten his tongue when Laswell mentioned the callsign, and lied to Alejandro when he’d said that he hadn’t heard of them either. He stayed back when he saw the dumb skull mask walking towards him across the tarmac, a bubbly, pretty new face walking by his side. 

When they were all in the car, and Alejandro was introducing him, he’d tried to say something subtly, baiting Ghost in a way only he would get it. Tengo miedo de los fantasmas… and nothing. He tried again, saying that Ghost would fit in well with his mask. It got a reaction out of him, a sharp look, that still only registered Rudy as a complete stranger. 

He’d given up after that. Not that he really had much choice, as the escalation in chaos that had followed their meeting had made him just keep going, keep pressing on, despite the knock on the head he’d gotten from Hassan’s men, through the sleepless nights, through Alejandro nearly losing it on Valeria when they found her again; all as they raced around to find some stupid missiles that should have never even been his problem. 

After seeing Simon’s face again, Rudy knew he couldn’t let all of that come to a head without at least trying one last time. He’d slipped away from Alejandro’s explanation of the battle plans, and gotten lucky, finding Ghost in the back corner of the warehouse, leaning against one of the vans like nothing was wrong in the world. 

“Are we really not going to say anything about it?” 

Ghost actually looked at him with recognition now that they were alone; but it was like Rudy was a fly, buzzing in his ear. “Is this really the time?”

“There won’t be another.” Rodolfo’s face was as unreadable as Ghost’s, now that they both were hidden under one of Ghost’s masks.  

“What do you want, Sergeant Major?” Ghost turned the knife he was holding over in his hand, straightening up so he stood at his full height over Rudy. 

“What do I want?” Rudy scoffed, incredulous that Ghost would even ask that. “You gave me the best dick of my life, and left me behind without a word. Then you turn up here, some pretty boy hanging off your ass, and you ask me what I want?”

It was years ago, now. Rudy had gone off base for the night and fallen into some bar he couldn’t remember the name of, desperate to drown his feelings towards Alejandro. He’d downed glass after glass of… something, wondering what he had done to deserve being stuck in the deepest kind of love for a man who wouldn’t, couldn’t see him the same way, and that every day he had to see that man suffering at the hands of the woman he did love.

The man who had just run into a burning building to save him.

The server had turned him away after one too many drinks, so Rudy had stumbled out of the door to find somewhere else to go, and fallen right into Simon. Tall and mysterious, with a dumb skull mask on, Simon was in deeper than Rudy had been, in drink and issues, which is why they hadn’t spoken at all, apart from the broken moans that passed between them as Ghost held Rudy’s head down in the pillows of some hotel bed and fucked the life out of him.

“Bit of a pathetic track record, if I’m your best. You still out on your ear with whoever it is you’re pining for?”

“Of course, I am.”

“Alejandro’s still doing that to you? I can’t blame you mate, but…”

“Shut up.” Rudy glanced over his shoulder as he shuffled further between the two vans. They were still alone, this far into the warehouse.

“How is this still my problem?”

“It wasn’t ever. But, you’ve got your own sergeant now, I’ll leave you to your pretty boy.” Rudy was flushed hot now, embarrassed that he’d ever said anything. He should have kept his stupid mouth shut, then Ghost wouldn’t be chuckling at him under the mask. Rudy’s own was scant comfort, as even with it, Ghost was reading him like a book.

“Not even going to give me a goodbye present?” Ghost asked as Rudy turned away.

“You didn’t give me one.”

“You aren’t up to being a better man than me?” 

Rodolfo swore under his breath, and turned back to face Ghost. The bastard was waiting to see what Rudy would do. One last chance. He had to do something to catch Ghost off guard, to leave him and his smart mouth speechless. 

Rudy walked back to Ghost, leaned up and kissed him through the masks, lingering as he pulled back, before turning and walking away. 

Ghost grabbed his arm.

“Ghost, let-”

“Just one?” Ghost had pushed his mask up, the scar that caught the edge of his lip twitching as he grinned. “You can do better than that.”

“Come and take it.” Rudy spat back, reaching out to grab Ghost’s tac vest, to get the knife sheathed in the side. 

“How about you hold onto this one instead?” Ghost caught his hands before they got anywhere, pressing the knife he was holding into one of Rudy’s palms. 

Rudy took it and closed his fingers around the handle, keeping the blade still as Ghost turned him and shoved him against the van, holding him there by shoving his body against Rudy’s back. Rudy’s hands went to the rail on the roof, one resting beneath it, the other gripping it tight as Ghost pushed Rudy’s body around to get him where he wanted. 

He spread Rudy’s legs apart and pushed one of his own between them. Ghost held the back og Rudy’s neck, turning his head to one side so his face wasn’t smashed against the van when Ghost grabbed Rudy’s mask and pulled it off. One of Ghost’s hands was holding his hip, shoving a thumb inside his waistband, the other running roughly through Rodolfo’s hair before taking hold and pulling his head back so Ghost could kiss him properly. 

Ghost moved fast, his tongue pushing against Rudy’s lips, impatient at how Rudy waited to slacken his jaw and let him inside. Rudy let him in when he felt Ghost’s hard cock against his ass, even through the layers of gear they were wearing, and then Ghost was gone, pulling away from the kiss and pushing Rudy’s face against the van too. 

“Do you think you can be quiet? Last time you couldn’t.”

Rudy’s breath caught in his throat. “What are you going to do, gag me?”

“That was the plan, yeah.” Ghost had taken Rudy’s mask and twisted it into a bundle. “No time to do it proper, though.”

Rudy tried to twist his head away as Ghost pressed the mask against his mouth, but quickly parted his teeth and sank them into the material.

“Good boy.” Ghost’s purr almost made Rodolfo spit it straight back out. He wasn’t sure if Ghost was reading him like a book or was writing the damn thing, but he stopped worrying about it when he felt Ghost undoing his belt, pulling his body away to shove Rodolfo’s trousers down over his ass. 

“Even prettier than I remember.” Ghost stroked Rudy’s ass, and chuckled when he caught the hem of Rodolfo’s shirt, pulling it up slightly. “That’s new.” 

Rodolfo mumbled something  around the gag, and Ghost pulled it out.

“What was that?”

“Got it with Alejandro. It’s matching.”

Ghost snickered. “Matching back tattoos? And he’s ‘not in love with you’?” 

“Shut up.” 

Ghost laughed and threw the mask aside. “I think I’ll keep your mouth free for now. See what other pretty things you’ll say for me.” 

His hand went down, pushing Rudy’s ass open so he could find Rudy’s asshole, pressing a knuckle into it. 

“Not very tight down here. Who else are you using in your free time?”

“No one.” 

“Toys then?”

“Sure.” Rudy rolled his hips back into Ghost’s fingers, desperate for them to be inside of him, his own erection stuck between his body and the van. 

“You ever pretend they’re Alejandro?”

“No-!” Rudy bit his lip as Ghost pushed two fingers into him at once, painful, but only for a moment. “Yes, sometimes.”

“Bet you’ve seen his dick so many times, you’ve found one that’s an exact match, haven’t you?”

“I’m not answering - you don’t get to do this to me!” Rudy was squirming under Ghost’s hands as Ghost spat down, his saliva offering a sliver of lubrication to his fingers inside Rudy’s ass as Ghost searched for the spot that would make Rudy lose it. 

“But I am.” Ghost kissed Rudy’s ear, leaning their bodies closer together again so he could hear Rudy’s suppressed groans, and the gasp Rudy made when Ghost’s fingers hit his prostate. 

“Fuck… you, Ghost.”

“Simon.”

“Simon. Fuck you… Simon.”

“Oh, it’s the other way around, Rudy.” Simon pulled his fingers out of Rudy’s ass. “I think I’ve got enough to be getting on with.”

Rudy had a minute to breathe as Ghost got his own dick out. Rudy tightened his grip on the knife and shifted his legs a tad wider as Ghost’s wet dick pushed against his asshole.

“You ready?”

Rudy opened his mouth and regretted it immediately as Ghost pushed his dick into him. His moan was loud, if someone heard him he was fucked, but half a second later he stopped caring, anyone could hear him, as long as Ghost would keep fucking him. If Ghost was worried about the noise, he would have to take care of it. 

Ghost did, grumbling in Rudy’s ear each time he had to cover Rudy’s mouth, on top of holding him up against the van, because every thrust Ghost was making into his ass made Rudy’s knees shake, and he was only half in control of what was coming out of his mouth. Rudy finally choked down a moan on his own when Ghost pressed the head of his cock deep into him, shuffling their bodies as close together as they could get. Ghost moved his hand down, holding Rudy’s chin up as Rudy breathed in, trying to make use of the moment of respite Ghost was giving him to pull himself back together. Alejandro, all of his men were in the other room, for fucks sake… Rudy clamped his mouth shut as Ghost started moving again, but only giving him a painstakingly slow roll of his hips. 

“Si…mon..” It was a half cry, as Ghost closed his hand over Rodolfo’s, the one holding the knife. He squeezed tight, the edges of the handle digging into Rudy’s hand. 

“That’s what you’re doing to me, you know. Squeezing me tight, like you can’t get enough.” 

Rudy knew that, he didn’t need Simon to tell him that. He just wanted the bastard to start going hard and fast again. “Simon, please…”

“You want to cum?”

“Uh huh,” Rudy swallowed as Ghost rolled his hips again, a little faster this time, the head of his cock pulsing inside of him, “ah, me, then you… I cum, then you, inside me, ple… please.” 

“You should explain everything with a cock in your ass. Sound so pretty, whimpering like this.” Ghost leaned up, placing his hands next to Rudy’s. “I could listen to it all day.”

“We… don’t have, that kind of time.” Rudy got out, pushing his body back against Ghost, searching for more movement, more friction between them. 

“I suppose that’s true.” Ghost was rolling his hips constantly now, no breaks in between anything, shoving Rudy closer and closer to the edge. “You ready to be loud?”

“I won’t… be.” 

“I’m sure you’ll try.” Ghost was speeding up again, going back to actually fucking him, now that Rudy was so close, shoved right up to the edge by just how Ghost had talked to him. 

“You’ll… take care of me. You, fuck, you’ll take care of it. I won’t, won’t… come otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Ghost said, but didn’t try and test it. He kissed Rodolfo again, silencing him, and himself too, if he even made noise when he came. The only way Rudy knew he had was by how Ghost shivered and went still, his cock still in Rudy’s ass. The kiss broke, and it was still a minute before either spoke. 

“Like you remember?”

“Better.” Rodolfo sighed as he distantly heard the sound of cheers - Los Vaqueros getting ready to move out.  “We should get ready too.��

“One more minute.” Ghost sank his head onto Rodolfo’s shoulder.

“Someone could see us-”

“Alejandro could see you, with another man’s cock in your ass. Maybe that’ll be the thing he needs to see to get what he’s missing.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“Try me, Sergeant Major.” 

“Simon.” 

“Ghost.”

“El fantasma.” 

“If that’s what you prefer.” Ghost kissed behind Rudy’s ear, and pulled away from him carefully bringing Rudy’s pants back up over his ass, lingering behind him for half a moment to fix his own pants. “Let’s not repeat this. Again.”

Rudy heard Soap and Alejandro calling for them. “I’m not making that promise.”

Ghost chuckled. “I’d be disappointed if you did.” 

#kinktober #kinktober2023 #cod kinktober #cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod ghost #simon riley #cod simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod rudy #cod rodolfo #rodolfo parra #call of duty #rudy x ghost #ghost x rudy #ghost x rodolfo #hate sex #smut #google translated spanish im sorry #yes this is long the dynamic went brrr #kinktober day nineteen

[callsign-bunnie]

What about a Beauty and The Beast Au? My first thought was maybe Ghost and Rudy cause Ghost kind of fits the whole "monster" vibe, but you can pick whatever ship you want! I love your writing, so whatever you pick is good!

I couldn't decide if I wanted Ghost or Alejandro more. So then I decided, "why pick?" Anyway

--

Rodolfo had heard tales of the Beast, before. It was a story told to all young omegas, he was sure. Don’t go wandering through the woods alone or the Beast would take you. Don’t be back from the market too late. 

Rodolfo hadn’t really believed it. 

Then, on his 14th birthday, he’d stormed from his home, angry at hearing that his parents had plans to marry him off in order to lift them from poverty. A son of a lord that he’d rather kill himself than marry. 

He’d ended up getting lost in the woods, and had no hopes of finding his way back. It had been snowing as well, so he was cold, with nothing but a red cloak to keep himself warm.

He remembered finding a log and sitting on the ground. He’d cried, too. A deep, humiliating sob. Before he knew it, he’d fallen asleep and he remembered waking up to the sensation of being carried. 

Fur had pressed against his skin and he’d sworn he’d almost heard growling. He was too feverish and too cold to really fight against it or feel fear and as it was, he’d been laid gently under a window of his family’s farmhouse. 

And then dark yellow eyes had been staring into his own before a big, monstrous figure had retreated, leaving Rodolfo with not even a scent to remember him by. Just the knowledge that whatever that had been had saved his life. 

After that, Rodolfo had believed.

-

Rodolfo’s 18th birthday was the next day and he found himself dreading it more than anything. Because then he would be married. He knew it was to help his family, he knew it was to save their farm. He knew it was… Necessary.

But Mateo was so god fucking awful and Rodolfo would rather throw himself into the river than marry him. 

He was gross! Granted, they were the same age, but he was constantly making abhorrent comments that even his mother would turn up her nose at! And his eyes… those horribly, disgustingly bright blue eyes. Rodolfo hated them. 

Regardless, he got up and got dressed. Then, he brushed his hair and headed out, doing his chores around the small farm they had. They weren’t many, his parents’ way of trying to soften his marriage, he assumed, but Rodolfo didn’t actually mind his chores.

Adrian had had plenty of complaints about it but Rodolfo could care less. Adrian was an alpha, he didn’t have to worry about being married off to the wrong alpha. To the worst alpha. 

“Rodolfo!” 

Rodolfo closed his eyes, groaning. Speaking of. Rodolfo considered just ignoring him. “Hello, Mateo…” Rodolfo mumbled and went over to the fence that he was leaning against.

“How is my beautiful future bride doing?” Mateo grinned at him. “Just two more days and you belong to me! Isn’t that exciting?”

Rodolfo could think of nothing less exciting. “I’m trying to do my chores.” He sighed.

Mateo shrugged. “In three days, your only chores will be being pretty and giving me babies. I’m sure you can neglect them to talk to your fiance.”

“I don’t want to make my siblings have to do more work.” Rodolfo shrugged, giving the excuse. He did mean it, Adrian would likely throw a fit and Liliana worked an apprenticeship, already. She didn’t need to come home and do more chores. 

Mateo frowned before shrugging. “Such a sweet bride.”

Rodolfo’s stomach churned at the repeated reminder of what the next day entailed. It both frightened and nauseated him and had him wanting nothing more than to go back to bed and hide under the blanket until it was over. 

Even still, he knew that wasn’t an option. 

“Thank you for coming to see me.” Rodolfo tried, hoping the flattery may convince Mateo to leave. “But, I… I worry you seeing me before the wedding may jeapordize it. It’s bad luck!”

Mateo frowned again before smiling. “You are right, mi amor. My apologies.” He bowed, slightly, and then said his goodbyes before leaving.

Rodolfo’s shoulders dropped as he relaxed and he shook his head. God, he hated that alpha! Rodolfo shook his head and returned back to his chores, which right now entailed feeding the chickens and gathering their eggs.

Then, he would have to go into town and sell their eggs to the market. He hoped to go by the library and talk to the librarian that was there. So, as soon as he could, he grabbed the egg basket, leaving the few that they would need behind, and headed to the market. 

He took a long route so Mateo wouldn’t know he was there and when he made it to the market, it was already midday. He did panic slightly at how fast the day was going, but he tried not to think about it. In fact, he pushed it from his mind completely while he traded the merchant. He gave the eggs, he got the money, and then he went on his way to the library.

The Librarian, a sweet older woman named Syana, greeted him warmly as Rodolfo walked in. She was an alpha, but she was a widower. “Hello, Rodolfo!”

Rodolfo smiled. “Hello, Sy. How are you, today?”

“Already missing one of my closer friends.” She sighed. “I heard that your wedding takes place, tomorrow.”

“Please do not remind me, Syana. It is harder and harder to resign myself to my fate.” Rodolfo murmured and shook his head. 

Syana smiled, sympathetically. “Do not be so afraid, dear Rodolfo. The boy is obviously deeply infatuated with you.”

“He’s deeply infatuated with a mirror.” Rodolfo muttered, looking over the shelves. He supposed Mateo had a right to be. He was attractive, Rodolfo would not dispute that, but… attractiveness wasn’t enough. “He’s obsessed with me.”

“When I was your age, that was all omegas wanted. An alpha who was obsessed with them.” Syana pat his hip, affectionately. “Well, I have some wedding gifts for you, all the same. Of course, since you seem so deeply unhappy, one may worry you don’t want them?”

“No, I do!” Rodolfo quickly stated. 

Syana laughed, softly, and shook her head. “I thought so. Stay here.” 

Rodolfo nodded and then waited as she went up some stairs and then returned back down with a book. “To start your own library.” Syana held out the box. 

Rodolfo looked at it, seeing it was filled with books, and he just melted. “Thank you… Thank you so much!” He took the box and looked through it, before he was hugging the box. He had no doubt that his marriage would be much easier to bear with these.

Syana pat him. “Anyway, you should go home now. Before your father comes looking for you.”

Rodolfo nodded. “Thank you, Sy. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Rodolfo.”

Rodolfo took his books and then started home, feeling just slightly better about the next day.

-

Rodolfo bit the inside of his cheek so hard it almost bled as he looked at himself in the mirror. He didn’t want to get married. He didn’t want this at all. He was wearing a gaudy sort of green, but it was Mateo’s favorite color and Mateo’s father had paid for it.

Rodolfo hated it. He would much rather be wearing literally any other color. No, he’d rather not be wearing this at all! He tried not to start crying, glad his veil would be hiding it if he did. When the veil would be lifted, he could claim they were tears of joy.

His mother was going around him, clucking like a hen about all of the things that Rodolfo would be able to enjoy once he was a Lady. He’d naught want for anything, apparently. Except, to not be married. Rodolfo would always want that. 

“I understand…” Rodolfo nodded. “Marrying Mateo is good for our family, it is good for me.” He was lying. He’d already waged his war against this agreement when he was younger and he’d sorely lost. There was no point in rekindling it. 

“Exactly.” His mother finally straightened and then she touched his face. “You are so beautiful.”

Rodolfo wished he wasn’t. He wished he was plain or even ugly and then he would not be getting married. But, he thanked his mother all the same and then he turned back to the mirror, clasping his hands together to keep them from shaking.

Rodolfo looked up when he heard the door open, looking in the mirror and seeing Mateo step in. His mother frowned. “Mateo, it’s not-”

“Just a few minutes. Please.” Mateo smiled at Rodolfo’s mother.

Rodolfo pleaded with his eyes at his mother, though he knew she couldn’t see him. Please don’t leave him here with Mateo. Please… But, she curtsied and then pat Rodolfo before leaving. Rodolfo grasped his own hands tighter, turning back to himself in the mirror.

Mateo watched his mother leave and then smiled at Rodolfo. “You’re beautiful.”

“It’s not good to see me before the wedding. It’s bad luck.” Rodolfo reminded, hoping that would convince him.

“You have a veil on, it’s fine.” Mateo shook his head. “I heard you went by the library.”

Rodolfo frowned. “Yes… Syana had a wedding gift for me… Or, well us. Some books to start a library.”

“I see. Do you like reading?” Mateo leaned against the dresser, where the box of books sat. 

Rodolfo nodded. “I do.”

Mateo didn’t seem very pleased. Rodolfo couldn’t imagine why. “Syana is an alpha.”

“She’s a widower.” Rodolfo nodded. “Her mate died when I was little.”

“The people will talk.”

“About?” Rodolfo furrowed his brows, confused what Mateo could possibly be talking about. Syana had known Rodolfo since Rodolfo was a child. No one was talking about them. 

Mateo only stared at him. “I care about you, Rodolfo. I want you as my wife. But… my father has taught me to never let myself be humiliated and… well, quite frankly, it feels like you’re trying to.” His voice had darkened. 

“No, no,” Rodolfo quickly assured. “I’m not- I’m not trying to humiliate you! I just wanted to see her before I was married, she’s practically helped raise me-” He was cut off by an impact as he was struck across his face.

He stumbled off the short pedestal he was standing on, almost falling off, and he held his cheek, eyes wide. “I-”

“Don’t speak.” Mateo was glaring at him.

Rodolfo went silent, immediately, staring at Mateo in shock. His cheek stung and the impact had caused tears to spring to his eyes. 

Mateo sighed and then he softened. “You’re naive. It’s alright. Don’t embarrass me, again. I mean it.”

Rodolfo didn’t speak at all. He just stared at Mateo. When Mateo finally left, Rodolfo stared at the door he’d exited through. Already, he’d felt the embers in his soul start to glow again. But, no, he wasn’t going to fight the war. Because it was already over. 

Rodolfo ripped the veil from his head and removed his bodice and his skirt, leaving himself in just his underdress, before he went to the window. He forced it open, not caring that it squeaked, and just slid through.

He didn’t even think before he took off running to the woods. 

Don’t go through the woods alone, or it’d take you. 

Don’t be out too late.

Rodolfo was counting on it. He wanted whatever it was to take him far away from here and away from Alphas who slapped him and didn’t let him explain things and who made far too many comments than he liked. 

Far far away. 

Rodolfo didn’t know if anyone was coming after him, he didn’t care. He just kept running. Trees whipped past beside him, branches smacked at his face.

At some point, it started to snow, but he still just kept running. He could feel the harsh sting of scrapes against his skin, and he still kept running. Even when his sides started to burn and his lungs protested, he kept running.

And, in fact, he only stopped when his foot caught on the root of a tree and sent him across the ground, hitting it rather hard.

The air was knocked out of him and he held his side, which had smacked against a rock, whimpering with pain. Finally, he decided he’d ran enough, sitting up and holding himself. It was so cold… Snow had started to coat the ground and he found himself shivering, despite how damp his skin was with sweat. 

He didn’t regret leaving. Perhaps he’d rather die than be stuck the rest of his life with Mateo… He’d struck him once, Rodolfo had no doubts he would strike him again. 

Rodolfo pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged himself tighter. It was so cold… He flinched when he heard wolves howling in the distance. It filled him with a small sense of fear. 

Finally, his situation started to sink in. He’d ran into the woods with no plan, no food… No clothes… More fear filled him. He was so frightened. 

Another howl sounded but this one was… different. It was louder… it was deeper… And it only served to frighten Rodolfo more as he realized it was a lot closer. Rodolfo used a nearby tree to drag himself to his feet, looking around. In a small distance, between two trees, he saw a large monstrous figure approach.

Rodolfo’s eyes widened and he quickly backed up, but he gasped as he hit a wall of cloth and warmth, looking up and right into yellow eyes. 

Terror. Rodolfo jerked away and looked around, about to take off running, but his arm was gently grabbed and he was held firmly. “You need to return back to the village.” A soft, gentle voice came from the beast which stood before him.

Rodolfo tried to jerk his arm away, turning to the right slightly and seeing another beast was a small distance from him. “I-” Even with all of his fear, he didn’t want to go back. “Please don’t take me back. Please… You can kill me or eat me or anything, just please don’t send me back to that place…”

The two beasts shared a look. “Please…” Rodolfo pleaded. “Don’t take me back.”

The one that held his arm sighed and shook his head. 

Then, Rodolfo was being picked up, cradled in the beast’s arms, carefully.

#ghost x rodolfo #alejandro x rodolfo #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #simon ghost riley #Rodolfo cod #Ghost cod #alejandro cod #ghostrudy #aledolfo #ghost x rodolfo x alejandro #call of duty #beauty and the beasts

[writer-of-various]

Gang AU – Alejandro x Rudy, Rudy x others

Rudy looked out the small window in his room, feeling bitter as he watched people, free people, walk along the sidewalk and laugh and talk. He never had the chance to be a kid or a teenager, and now he's turning 21 and has never experienced life outside the bars. He's a prize, a trophy, all because his father couldn't stop buying drugs when he didn't have the money. He tries his hardest to hide his resentment towards those around him, especially the Garza's. While they did technically buy him off from his father, Mr. Garza was a kind man to him. He treated him like one of his own, and he only had a daughter. Rudy's siblings and mother are dead, so he only has the Garza's.

"Rudy, you up?" Speaking of Garza. Rudy moves away from the window and opens his door, smiling at the sight of Valeria. She's a strong, independent woman that was rebellious at a young age. She defied her father and mother, but they still loved her and only hope that whatever she does, she remains safe and happy. There were some times where Mr. Garza had to put his foot down and the whole house shook with their screams, but they pushed it behind them the next morning and acted like nothing happened. Valeria is brutal to others, she's mean and intimidating but when Rudy first arrived at her home, she made sure to soften up a bit for him. It was obvious he was abused, he had bruises painting his pale skin and he flinched and apologized at every loud noise. She treated him like he was her baby brother, and after so many years being together in the same household, he did become her baby brother.

"Good morning, Val." He greets, following her down the hallway. "What are your plans today?"

Valeria groans, her fists clenching at her sides. "Dad wants to try making an alliance with 141, so he wants me to go introduce myself and all that formal crap. They know who I am, all the dogs here know not to bark at me."

Rudy raises a brow, sensing something deeper. "Is that all? Or do you know them more than you're letting on?" Valeria sighs, stopping abruptly and looking down at him with a small smile.

"This is why dad offers you jobs, you know people too good. And yes, I know them. Ghost is a fucking asshole, he's the co-leader of the gang. There's some rumors that John Price is considering stepping down, and if he does, Ghost takes his place." They start walking again, Valeria holding the doors open for him and he playfully rolls his eyes.

"Then there's the Shadows. Phillip Graves keeps pestering dad about an alliance, but under direct negotiation that father is declining. But the Gringo is stubborn."

"What's the negotiation?" Rudy asks, and Valeria seems to twitch, her eyes darkening and her lips turning down into a frown. "Valeria." He presses, and the slightly older woman growls.

"You. Graves wants you, he has been since finding out you are one of ours. He's a pervert, you were barely 13 and he was almost 20. And stop looking like that, you aren't going to hand yourself over if shit goes sideways." Valeria growls and Rudy shrinks back, bowing his head submissively and Valeria sighs. She pulls him into a tight embrace, and he relaxes under her rare, comforting touch.

"I'm sorry, Val. I just want to protect you and your parents. You guys have done everything to protect me and I just feel like...I don't know. I used to be someone, all the boys and girls in my run down neighborhood used to stop by and I cooked and cleaned and patched them up. I was useful." Rudy trails off and Valeria sighs again before smiling at him.

"Well, when dad steps down and I become the leader, I want you by my side. Like how mom is with dad. Damn, the more I talk about this crap the more I realize we probably belong in London." Rudy laughs at that, shaking his head.

"Trust me, the Royal Family is far more normal then we are."

"I'll drink to that!"

——

When they arrive at 141's house, they are surprised to see a party being thrown and Los Vaqueros were there. Valeria seems to realize something and she growls, storming over and Rudy quickly follows her, concerned about her change of attitude.

"Vargas!" She screams, and everyone goes quiet, whipping their heads to her direction and Rudy blushes furiously in embarrassment. He stays pressed against Valeria, looking around the place with wide eyes. Between hearing what the Shadow Gang leader wants, which is him, and the fear of anything going sideways, Rudy hasn't enjoyed his time outside. He isn't used to being around so many people at once, he was always kept out of a room that is loaded with weapons and drugs, and there were hookers trying to cover themselves up and sneak away. He doesn't miss the way some people, mostly guys, look his way, their eyes dark with something he can't describe or put a word to. Strange.

"Valeria, what the fuck?" A tall man yells, and Rudy looks at him and is immediately enhanced. The man is handsome, his face sharply defined, hair dark and gelled back and he's muscular. His dark eyes land on Rudy, who makes a small noise and hides behind Valeria, who wraps a strong arm around his waist in reassurance.

"Why are your idiotas here, Alejandro? Where's Price?" Valeria growls, and as if on cue, an older yet handsome man walks out of a room and smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Ah, Garza, wasn't expecting to see you here. Are you here for business or the party?" Price takes out a cigar and lights it, looking so calm.

"Why are Los Vaqueros here?" Valeria orders an answer and Alejandro snorts, throwing a glare at her.

"And why is that any of your business?" He throws back and Valeria inches closer, only stopping when Rudy grabs her hand and caresses the back of it, calming her down...for now.

"Alright, my office, now. Party's over, folks! Get the bloody hell out of here!" Price shouts, and the people besides the leaders leave without complaint. Rudy walks with Valeria, frowning when she stops him and looks around.

"I don't want you in there, in case anything happens, but I don't wanna leave you alone out here." She whispers, and Rudy gives her a small smile.

"I brought my knife, I'll be fine. I promise." He whispers back and Valeria grins, eyeing him up and down.

"If I wasn't gay, I would have fucked you right here." She grins wolfishly and Rudy blushes, hiding his face and stepping back from her.

"Val!" He exclaims, and she laughs before walking into the office. He waits outside the door patiently, observing everything around him. He eyes a man with a mohawk walk up to him, a charming smile tracing his lips.

"Well hello there beautiful." He says, and Rudy tries not to blush. Keep it together, Rudy.

"Hello." He greets politely, feeling so small under the man's strong stare.

"I'm Soap, what's your name?" The man outstretches his hand and Rudy shakes it, a perfect brow raised at the weird name. He knows it's not his real name, but to have an alias called Soap is just...unique.

"Rudy, it's nice to meet you Soap." He shakes hands with Soap, who's smile grows wider. Rudy retracts his hand and fidgets, almost jumping in surprise when another man appears out of nowhere, glaring at Soap.

"Why are you bothering this man?" The newcomer questions, and he seems to stand protectively in front of Rudy. This whole ordeal is crazy and Rudy is impressed he hasn't lost his mind by now. The newcomer is cute, barely taller than Soap and he's leaner but he has broad shoulders that Rudy peeks over to try seeing Soap, who appears to not be bothered. They must know each other then.

"Aw Gaz, why ye actin' like that? I ain't doing nothing to the cutie, just being a gentleman." Soap says, a bit too cheerily, and the other man shakes his head. He turns to look down at Rudy, who doesn't like how short he is compared to these guys. Hell, Valeria is even taller than him by an inch, and it doesn't help she wears those boots that give her a few more inches.

"Sorry, sir, my name is Gaz, and I'm sure this buffoon already introduced himself. Are you waiting for Price?" Gaz's voice is soft, like he didn't want to startle him. While adorable, Rudy couldn't help but feel belittled.

"No, I'm here with Valeria Garza." He says, and he wants to smirk when both their eyes widen and they share a look. "Tell me, why are Los Vaqueros here? I hear 141 and LV are close, but not this close...this party, it was a celebration, no?" Rudy continues, and he loves how Gaz looked appalled and Soap was stoic but his eyes gleamed.

"Smart observation, Rudy. You'll learn in like, 2 sec–" "¡Hijo de puta!" Valeria's enraged scream startled Rudy, who runs into the office to see Valeria looking like she was about to have a meltdown. And a meltdown Valeria isn't a Valeria you want to be around.

"Valeria, what happened?" Rudy goes over to her and she glares at Price and Alejandro.

"These two pussies decided to ally with one another. You're going to regret this, John." Valeria says in a low voice, a warning to the older man. She gives Alejandro another sharp glare before moving to leave, when Alejandro speaks up.

"Who's this?" He points at Rudy, who tries to appear calm but every ticking second felt like a second closer before a bomb went off. Valeria stops, looking conflicted and Rudy speaks before he can even think of being smart.

"Rodolfo Parra." He says, settling his features into a sharp glare when Alejandro grins at him.

"Rodolfo...I want him. You give me your princesa, and the three of us have an alliance." Alejandro speaks calmly, but what he said was anything but calm. Rudy pales, looking at Valeria who snarls and lunges at the other, her knife out and ready to strike. Price stops her, shaking his head and Valeria growls, a scary and deep sound that rumbles throughout her chest.

"He's not some bitch, Vargas. Go fuck a hooker." Valeria grabs Rudy and drags him out, cursing in Spanish under her breath. Rudy hugs her arm, trying not to burst into tears but his worst fear is coming true. The Garza Cartel won't get any allies because the leaders of other gangs want him, like he's some trophy.

He's in shock, he doesn't know when they get back to their safehouse, but he snaps out of it when he hears Valeria shouting and Mr. Garza trying to console her. Mrs. Garza has a hand over her mouth, begging under her breath, praying, and Rudy starts giggling. They stare at him in confusion, but Rudy can't stop laughing. Holy shit, was this his life now? Some bitch that's bought and traded? Damn, his father really ruined his life.

"Rudy..." Valeria whispers, but Rudy walks off to his room, shutting the door and holding back the urge to lock it. The Garza's didn't like it when he locked his door. No freedom, really, but he's their trophy. They just treat him better than anyone else can. He goes back to looking out his window, remembering the old Las Almas, when the Mexican government didn't let the people of this beautiful city rot with the cartels and gangs. A city that attracted gangs, mafias, cartels, from all over the world. A city of souls, literally.

——

Rudy forced himself to go to sleep early that evening, and he didn't wake up until the afternoon of the next day. He sits up and goes to his bathroom, turning on the tap of his shower and trying to hold back the tears. He can't be weak. He can't. He steps in when the water is warm and washes his body and hair, thinking about every solution there could be involving alliances. The Garza Cartel is on top of the corrupted hierarchy, basically the government of Las Almas. 141 was formed after the battle of Las Almas, where the final front of the Mexican military tried to push back the cartel, with no support from the Mexican government. They lost and retreated, and the few that escaped with the soldiers did, because after that, no one was allowed to leave Las Almas.

Mr. Garza is a kind man to his family, he's willing to die for them. But to the outside, he is a completely different man. Ruthless, mean, aggressive. Valeria got it from him, obviously.

The Shadow Company came shortly after the formation of 141. They worked with the Mexican army unit stationed for the final front in Las Almas, Los Vaqueros, but eventually betrayed them and took control of Northern Las Almas. After the betrayal, the commander of Los Vaqueros took a handful of his best soldiers and developed a gang based on weapons transportation that soon became dirty.

The Garza Cartel is in control of all Las Almas, but Mr. Garza allowed 141, Los Vaqueros, and the Shadows to form their own territory under his direct and strict supervision. He wants alliances since there are bigger threats outside Las Almas waiting to take them all down, but the crudeness of Alejandro Vargas and the secret alliance between LV and 141 only made him doubtful. Mr. Garza doesn't want anything to do with the Shadows, especially Graves, but they seemed to be the only option.

He sighs sadly, turning off the shower and stepping out, drying himself on and getting dressed. He hears a commotion outside and furrows his brows looking out his window to see a bunch of black, armored jeeps parked around the safehouse. He races out of his room, his knife tucked inside his belt as he jogs down the stairs, stopping abruptly when he sees Mr. Garza talking to a man. He's white, with light brown hair and blue eyes that he could get lost in. He's unaware of him standing there, staring, before a soft hand grabs his shoulder and turns him around. Mrs. Garza is looking at him with concern, touching his forehead with the back of her palm when she notices how flushed he looks.

"Rudy, are you okay, dear?" She asks and Rudy nods, pointing to the strange yet handsome man.

"Who's that?" He asks, and Mrs. Garza sighs tiredly.

"Phillip Graves. He's requesting a competition against 141 and Los Vaqueros. These men are fucking filthy pigs. We won't let them get you, Rudy." Mrs. Garza says, and Rudy hugs her.

"Mrs. Garza...I have to go to one of them. We are powerful but there's more dangerous gangs out there, waiting for when we are all at our weakest. I can't let anyone hurt you, Mr. Garza, or Valeria." Rudy steps back and gives her a small smile before walking into Mr. Garza's office, surprising him and Graves. The American eyes him hungrily, standing up and sticking his hand out. Rudy shakes it out of politeness, nodding at Mr. Garza and sitting down in the empty seat.

"I hear you want a competition. Fine. Deal is on, whatever gang wins gets me." Rudy says, his voice monotonous and Mr. Garza shakes his head but Rudy holds up a hand. "I'm almost 21, I can make my own decisions. This is beneficial to the cartel. Now, Mr. Graves, why should I ever consider joining you?"

——

August 15th was the day of the competition, and Valeria had decided to join it on behalf of the Garza Cartel so they could win and keep Rudy. She was furious at him for sacrificing himself but Rudy comforted her and told her it was the only way. And if she won, they would have nothing to worry about. It's been a month since Rudy took charge of his own life and today is the day that fate would choose the path. He was told to wear all white, to represent his purity and neutrality. He wore a white gown that Mrs. Garza bought him, and a white cape with blood red patterns over his shoulders, showing anyone who looks his way that he's part of the Garza's. He leaves his room and meets Valeria down the hall, observing her look.

She wore a black and red military style jacket, and cargo pants. She opted for combat boots with no high heels, and her blade is tucked into a belt that once belonged to Mr. Garza and was passed down to her for her 16th birthday.

"Rudy, are you sure you want to do this?" Valeria looks into his eyes and he smiles sadly, nodding his head.

"I love you, Val, you are like a sister to me, you made me feel so safe here. You were always there to protect me. Let's hope the others, if one of them wins, allow me to visit you." Rudy says and Valeria hugs him, wishing they could stay like that forever. If she loses, the better half of her would be ripped away, and she can't do anything about it.

"Come on, the event is going to begin soon." He whispers and they walk to the extravagant backyard of the safehouse, where the training range was set up to hold a large crowd of people. They walk up the stairs to one of the balconies, where Rudy is to sit besides the Garzas. He peers down to the fighting ground, seeing Graves, Alejandro, and the infamous Ghost preparing. Valeria kisses the top of his head before leaving to join the men below, her evil persona coming out and she will shed blood today.

"Rudy, this is your last chance to say no." Mr. Garza is begging him, pleading with him, to say no but Rudy can't.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Garza." Rudy whispers, clutching the cape tight around him. Mr. Garza nods solemnly, and stands to start the competition. One of the guards below shoots into the air, and the first round begins.

The four must race across the range, pick up a sled full of over 20 pound weights and objects, and drag it back in time. Valeria gets their first, grabbing the straps of the sled and pulling it out, her teeth barred but she wasn't the only one struggling. Alejandro and Graves were trying to push theirs along the painted lines, but Ghost did it with ease. Made sense, he's 6 feet 4 inches and is the biggest out of them, muscles that could kill and a build so broad that Rudy has to admit, he checked him out a bit.

Ghost reaches the starting point first, winning the round but there are still 30 seconds left. Graves comes in second, Alejandro third, and Valeria last. Rudy frowns when he sees her pace, her mouth moving quick and he knows she's cursing off everyone and everything.

The next round is archery, they have to shoot five bullseyes, the targets over 10 meters away. Another shot goes off and the four pick up their bows and arrows, Valeria the first to shoot hers. Bullseye. It doesn't take long before Valeria and Graves are tied, Alejandro in third with Ghost last. Graves shoots his last arrow and it's a bullseye. He's the winner of the second round.

There's ten rounds in total, Alejandro was the winner of the third round which was a fighting cage, Valeria won the fourth which was sword fighting. Ghost won 5, Graves won 6 and 7. Alejandro took 8 and 9. The last round taunted Rudy, telling him his fate is so close and Valeria wasn't it. Neither was 141. He watched from the edge of his seat, as the four stood in their starting point. An obstacle course sat before them, where they had to be careful not to be caught by the group of cartel guards. The final shot goes off and Rudy observes, unsure who he wants as his new "owner".

Ghost kicks at a guard, barely managing to slip past the group as he jumps over a giant log. Valeria is stealthy, careful and the guards honestly can't find her. Graves is racing forward, stopping briefly to punch the guard following him. Alejandro is in the lead, and Rudy feels his blood run cold when he gets closer to the end. Graves is close too, trying to catch up, but it's done. Alejandro made it. Half of the crowd cheers, and Rudy gulps, his anxiety spiking. Mr. Garza clears his throat, standing up and he announces Alejandro Vargas as the winner. Rudy stands and leaves, needing space before he hands himself over.

"This is for Valeria" He reminds himself as he retreats back inside the safehouse.

——

It's not long before Rudy goes back out, forcing a smile as all the guests were welcomed inside to the massive dining hall Mr. Garza had, the room full of noise and Rudy's social anxiety began rising. He musters a calm expression and walks over to Alejandro, nose scrunching up when he can already smell beer and cigarette smoke from the loud Vaqueros.

"Mr. Vargas." He speaks up, surprised his new owner could hear him over the shouts of his Vaqueros as one of them lost a game of cards. Alejandro smiles, standing up to his full height and grabbing Rudy's hand, leaning down to kiss the back of his palm. Rudy is surprised at the nobel gesture, the heat in his cheeks visible due to his lighter complexion.

"Rodolfo, glad to see you join us. I thought my Vaqueros and I scared you off or something." Alejandro chuckles nervously, and Rudy observes his body language. Hands buried inside his pockets, his cheek tinted red, and his eyes looking anywhere but at Rudy. He's nervous, awkward, a huge contrast to the stories he heard of Alejandro Vargas.

"It takes a lot to scare me off. How are you doing? Do you like the food?" Rudy asks, sitting down in the empty seat beside Alejandro's and the taller man follows him, wincing when he hits his knee against the table. The Vaqueros shared a look before they all stood up and left, some patting Alejandro on the back. Rudy feels his nerves calm down a bit with the big audience gone, his attention going back to Alejandro who's staring at him.

"You're beautiful" He whispers, and Rudy's eyes widen. Before he can say anything, three familiar people walk over and sit down, someone two his right while the other two sit beside Alejandro. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz.

"What 're ye guys talking about?" Soap asks, a slight slur in his voice and Gaz sighs from next to him.

"Nothing, hermanos. What do you want?" Alejandro turns to look at Soap and Ghost, and Rudy is surprised to see how relaxed Ghost looks when sitting next to the person he lost to. Ghost notices him staring and smirks under his mask, leaning forward and startling Rudy.

"How do you feel about Alejandro taking custody of you?" He asks, voice deep and his accent nice to listen to. As much as Rudy feared The Ghost, he admired him.

"How do you feel about Alejandro owning me?" Rudy asks, and Ghost leans back, shrugging.

"You'll be mine eventually, I'm a patient man." Ghost growls and Rudy's face is completely red. He looks down, feeling eyes on him and then there's a hand on left arm, tracing the sleeves of his gown.

"This is pretty, Rodolfo. Fits you, for now." Gaz speaks up and Rudy snaps his head to him, eyes wide. His breath hitches at Gaz's handsome face, his slight stubble and dark eyes, clouded with something. He unconsciously leans into the touch, heat traveling everywhere across his body and he feels lightheaded.

"Follow me, Rudy." Alejandro's voice breaks through and Rudy hesitates. He nods, accepting the hand and letting Alejandro guide him down the hall. He hears footsteps behind him and turns, surprised to see the three following them closely behind. Alejandro opens a door and gently pushes Rudy, who glances around the guest room in confusion. Why did they bring him in here?

"Is everything o-" he's cut off by rough lips dominating his softer ones, eyes widening as he stares at Alejandro. The heat and intensity of the kiss, his first kiss, has Rudy letting his eyes flutter shut and he wraps his arms around Alejandro's broad shoulders. Someone comes up behind him, the smell of rich cologne that he picked up on one person telling him who it is. Soap.

Soap's hands, slightly callous but gentle as he touched him, undid his cape and handed it to Gaz, who neatly folded it and placed it on a dresser. Ghost stalks over and rips the gown off of him, a gasp leaving Rudy's lips as his body is exposed to the cold air. Oh god, was he going to lose his virginity to the four of them?

"Shh, calm down, amor. We're going to take good care of you. You're our queen now, Rudy. Anything you want, we give it to you." Alejandro coos and Rudy melts, tugging at his jacket and whining softly. He felt like a bitch in heat, or whatever the saying is, but all the pressure fell on him and it wasn't bad pressure. No, he felt needy and hungry and not for food, but for the four big and burly men around him.

"P-please..." He whimpers, biting his bottom lip when he feels a hand grope his round ass. Soap grins, coming to his view.

"Please what, baby?" He says softly and Rudy felt like he could faint.

"Please...fuck me?" Rudy looks up at them for guidance, and Gaz is the one to push away Alejandro and Soap and smiles reassuringly down at him.

"Good boy, you asked so nicely. Lay down, Rudy, we'll give you what you want." He whispers and Rudy nods, stepping out of his torn gown and crawling on the bed, laying on his back and feeling his nerves spike up when the four crawl in after him. Ghost rubs his large hands up and down his thighs, the touches soothing enough that he calms down. Alejandro settles between his legs and removes his underwear, gawking at his exposed hole and Rudy shyly looks away, trying to cover himself up. Soap tsks, shaking his head and pulling his hands away.

"Don't, baby. You're so fucking gorgeous. Fuck, do you know what you do to me?" Soap growls and Rudy mewls softly when he feels teeth nibble at his inner thighs. Alejandro grins as he sucks on his pale skin, the blood rushing and forming a hickey. He watches with big, curious eyes as Gaz touches his chest, both hands groping him and his thumbs circling along his nipples.

"Look at his tits, I want to fuck them so bad." He grunts and Rudy moans, slapping a hand over his mouth when he realizes what he did. Ghost chuckles, easing his hand away before trailing a large hand down to his hole and teasing it. Rudy twitches with want, his mind foggy with lust and he whines, bucking his hips up.

"Por favor" He whimpers, and Alejandro nods. He unbuttons his trousers and Soap grabs something out of his pocket, handing a small bottle to Alejandro who gives a smile of appreciation. Rudy stares at Alejandro's dick with wide eyes, wondering how something so big could fit inside him.

"A-ale...it won't fit!" He squeaks out and they all chuckle, but not in a cruel way. Gaz runs a hand through his hair, leaning down to kiss his neck.

"It's okay, Rudy, it'll fit. It's best to have Alejandro first and not Ghost." Rudy looks over at the masked man then trails his eyes down to his noticeable bulge. Okay, even if Alejandro did fit inside him, how the hell would Ghost? That man is just a large package.

"Are you ready, Rudy?" Alejandro asks, looking at him for consent and Rudy realizes that fate gave him luck. If this was how the rest of his life would be, then he'll take it. A part of him screamed that if Graves won, the American would fuck him right away with no prep or consent. These boys though, they were thoughtful and sincere and gentle.

"Yes." He whispers, and that night becomes the queen of the united 141 and Los Vaqueros gang.

#cod fanfics #rodolfo parra #alejandro vargas #alejandro x rodolfo #ghost x rodolfo #soap x rodolfo #gaz x rodolfo #gang au #valeria garza #call of duty #task force 141 #los vaqueros #el sin nombre

[sweet-as-an-angel]

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

#mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #konig x reader #konig smut #ghost x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price smut #soap x reader #ghost smut #alejandro vargas x reader #valeria garza x reader #kyle gaz garrick #rodolfo parra #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod

[lxvvie]

Y'all know that whole trend that was going around social media with women calling their significant other by their full name? Yeah, that one. Yet another conversation was had, this time it was about the reactions your favorite babygurls would have if you called them by their full government name because of reasons. Maybe.

Capt. John Price - He's, uh, startled but not enough to drop his cigar this time. Does take a puff of it, though, before addressing you like it's the calm before the storm. Isn't too fazed because he heard it enough from his own mom growing up and he figures he's suave and diplomatic enough to placate you.

Gaz - Pointedly ignores you while giving you side glances here and there which is a major indicator that he's gotten into some shit. Probably. More than likely. Yeah... it was Soap's fault.

Alex Keller - Actually did get into some shit. Does not answer the call of duty.

Soap - You hear 'ah, shit', heavy footsteps, probably a crash, and Soap's peeking his head out from the other room. Has a deer-in-headlights look about him. It was Gaz's fault, goddamnit. He's so adorable. It's enough to make you giggle.

Ghost - You get a grunt. And then it hits him. He stops doing whatever it is he's doing. Fuck, he knows that tone. Simon turns to look at you and he stares into your soul or something like that. What in the hell kind of made-up middle name is that? You spend the better part of a good minute staring each other down before you're all, "I love you ♥️," and Ghost groans and rolls his eyes and goes back to whatever it was he was doing. But not before he grunts out a "Love ya, too." in return.

Alejandro - This is one of the few things that'll actually faze the man. Will damn near break his neck turning to face you to see what's wrong and his eyes will be wide. Oh, the last time he heard his full name called like that was from his beloved grandmother and he'd gotten into some shit then, okay?

Rudy - Ducks his head. Doesn't show his face; he can't bear the sternness of your voice, your gaze. It wasn't him this time, he swears; it remains, though, the way you say his name, an echo in his mind: Ro-DOL-fo. Why'd you have the emphasize THAT part of his name, huh?

König - König.exe stops working. Actually does break something trying to get to you. His eyes are fucking saucers, okay? Oh shit, what did he do this time, Schatz? Are you getting him back after that one time he snuck up on you to surprise you and you dropped dinner? Did you find out about the time he accidentally messed up the laundry and the white clothes came out pink? WHAT DOES HE HAVE TO DO FIX THIS?! Oh, you... just needed him to grab something off the top shelf for you.

Horangi - Also did some shit. Is unapologetic about it. Hits you with a nonchalant, "Yeah?"

Graves - STAYS IN SOME SHIT, OKAY? Saunters in like the smug bastard he is. Smirks and winks at you. "Haven't heard that name in a while, darlin'. What's your fancy?"

Valeria - Pulls a Uno Reverse and calls you by your full government name. Wait―

#2queued4u. #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader #call of duty x black reader #x black reader #task force 141 #los vaqueros #kortac #shadow company #john price x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #phillip graves x reader #valeria garza x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #horangi x reader #alex keller x reader

[smutstationchoochoo]

Desperate

COD Men x FemReader

Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.

Word count: ~3.6k

A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.

Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)

Banner credit: @cafekitsune

You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.

The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.

The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.

You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room. 

You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…

Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.

No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.

  Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?”  His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”

Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.

“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.

 You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-

But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.

“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.

He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.

“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.

 His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.

It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?  

You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.

The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.

The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment.  It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?

He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.  

He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.

His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.

He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up.  Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.

“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.

“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.

His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”

Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.

He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”

Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.

“Yes.”

This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.

You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.

“Well, I did say next time.”

This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #female reader #codmw2 smut #smut #smutty #smut fanfiction #smut fic #captain john price #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #alex keller #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #keegan russ #Kim Horangi Hong-jin #ghost x reader #könig #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #john price x you #konig x reader #konig x you #captain john price smut #sex pollen

[mausinly]

i wanna see these big scary men get all flustered, give em a taste of their own medicine

Thinking about cod men with the most s/o of all time that is just so so tender with them and is so soft and kisses them so so good just like they deserve.

Thinking about cod men with an s/o that doesn't hesitate to tell them how pretty they are and will hold and caress them in a heartbeat, watching as their big bad military man melts in their arms.

Thinking about cod men that feel tears brim their eyes as their darling cups his head in their hands, their thumbs ever so gently brushing over his cheeks as they pepper kisses all over his face.

Their s/o makes sure to kiss every scar, every blemish and imperfection, everywhere but his lips until he murmurs how much of a tease his darling is. Only for their lips to meet in the most tender, passionate kiss he's ever received in his life, followed by loving whispers in the dark of night only for him to hear.

#maus writes #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #konig x reader #kim horangi hong jin x reader #horangi x reader #god there are too many tags to add #nikto x reader #sebastian kreuger x reader #gromsko x reader #i would type out his full name but my keyboard and tumblr tagging sustem wont let meeee

[y13evie]

141 + konig, Alejandro, and Rudy with an S/O that has thick thighs

141 + koni, alejandro, n rudy with a s/o that’s got thickkk thighs

a/n: im so sorry for the delay in posts but i trust have sm to post yall don’t even worry

mainly cutesy stuff with some suggestive moments

john price loves how your thighs hug any pants you wear. he loves to keep a spare hand on them whenever he’s next to you, whether that is in a meeting or just relaxing on the couch. he believes that your thighs make your body just that much more perfect.

simon riley is obsessed with the shape of your thighs. he believes that they’re plush pillows that were made specifically for him to lay on. not even in a sexual way, he loves kissing up and down your thighs. the soft skin makes it a luxury experience for him.

johnny mactavish thinks your thighs are the best part of your body. of course he adores your face, but the way your thighs get bigger when you sit down, almost welcoming him to use them as pillows. he loves the way they grip around him when you’re on top.

kyle garrick believes being between your thighs is heaven on earth. in a sexual and non sexual manner. he loves sitting between your thighs and letting you stroke through his hair. he listens to you talk about your day but tends to get distracted by thinking about what your reaction would be if he flipped his head over.

könig LUUVSSSS how your thighs look in shorts. good lord omg. like you’ll just be walking around base and it takes everything in that tank of a man to not put you on the countertops and. i mean what omg lol. but he’ll also love up on you if you ever get self conscious about stretch marks, reassuring you it just adds to your perfections.

alejandro vargas is a slut for your thighs, sorry. the way they’re like the foundation of your body’s shape drives him insane. especially if you’re going out to an event and decide to wear a risqué dress, exposing the plush skin to everybody there. when you get home he’ll make sure to teach you a lesson.

rudy parra loves massaging your thighs. you’re not sure how it started. whenever he gets home from a particularly rough mission or if he just needs intimate time with you, he’ll make you lay down and allow him to massage them. it’s stress relieving for both you and him. rudy can’t help himself, not his fault your build is perfect.

#141 headcanons #mw2 141 #141 x reader #task force 141 #price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #price x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #konig x reader #cod x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader

[curlygirlybitchachos]

Gaz: do you ever think about why Ghost wears the mask?

Alejandro: maybe because he is ugly?

Soap: nah. He is definitely handsome.

Price: you kids are annoying as fuck sometimes. Leave that man alone.

Rudy: we just curious about it. Yes Y/n?

Y/n: my biggest fear is that one day he takes off the mask accidentally while I'm around him. I saw his face and the next day I'm gone.

*Everybody, horrified*

Y/n: but I'm with Soap. He is definitely handsome.

+bonus

Ghost feeling comfortable around Y/n, taking of the mask: do you mind if I...

Y/n: NO NO YOU HANDSOME FUCKER! I WANNA LIVE! *runs away*

Ghost, confused: what the fuck...

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #incorrect call of duty quotes #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader #soap x reader #alejandro x reader #rudy x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #everybody x reader #reader is a little shit

[incorrectcodquotes]

Ghost: I just ended a four year relationship.

Soap: Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

Ghost: Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t my relationship.

*Alejandro and Rudy fighting from across the room*

#call of duty #cod mw2 #incorrect cod quotes #cod mwii #john soap mactavish #incorrect call of duty quotes #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #kyle gaz garrick #captain price #task force 141 #alejandro vargas #rudy parra #alejandro x rodolfo #alejandro x rudy

[b1rds3ye]

“Your Hoodie? No, My Hoodie.”

How the boys react to you stealing their hoodies/clothes, if they would steal yours, and other cute clothing shenanigans

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions

Genre: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 1.8k (~300 each)

Warning: A little spice but no smut

A/N: After writing some drama/angst pieces I figured some pure fluff will do me good 😌

Captain John Price

Price’s fashion sense has become a little dated, so while he has one or two hoodies, he owns a lot more jumpers and vests (especially those puffy ones that all American dads seem to wear in colder weather)

He also doesn’t wear said hoodies all that much so if you steal them, he’ll likely just compliment your attire like a gentleman then go about his day. When he does notice the hoodie as his, he doesn’t care, you can have it

“Lovely top, darling.” “Price, sweetheart, this is yours.” “… Ah, so it is.”

However Price will notice if you use one of his jumpers or sweaters, not that he has a problem with it. In fact he encourages it, he thinks you look far better in them than he ever will and you actually make his clothes look fashionable when all he ever cared about was practicality

It becomes a bit of a love language of his, for the sake of being a gentleman and as he gets older he’s more aware of the cold. Price is always making sure you’re suitably warm before going outside when it’s chilly and he’s always giving you his own clothes to layer yourself with

Ever a traditional man, Price loves doing up your outerwear for you, as you keep talking and he nods along with deft fingers making work of buttons or zippers. There’s something intimate about it, having his hands so close to your abdomen, with him being responsible for your warmth and consequently your wellbeing

Has considered asking you for a hoodie or item of clothing of yours to bring him comfort on missions but eventually decided against it. His operations get messy unexpectedly and quickly, heaven forbid if he loses your items. He doesn’t have the best habits either and he’ll never forgive himself if he gave your clothes the lingering smell of cigar smoke

Simon “Ghost” Riley

When off duty, hoodies are his go to. They’re simple, easy to put on, the hood obscures more of his features and with his stature they help him look terrifying. He has quite a few but they’re all the same dark shades so for the longest time you thought he only had a couple

He always tells you and Soap that he’s “plenty fashionable” and you genuinely can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. All you know is that it looks like he wears the same outfit 24/7

The first time he saw you in his clothes, it activated something in him. It was an almost animalistic possessiveness, like wearing his clothes meant you were willing to be owned by him

“Fuckin’ hell,” is all he can say, it’s quiet, barely audible but just loud enough for you to hear and get the hairs on your back standing. You feel like prey being found by the predator as he stalks up to you and attacks you with kisses

Seeing you in his clothes is like a public broadcast that you’re with him, that you’re proud to be with him and Simon wishes he can reciprocate but he’s got a reputation to uphold but most importantly, he doesn’t want to put a target on your back by associating you with him

He still does little things just so he can feel connected to you though, he’ll gladly slip accessories under his sleeves or in his pockets to remind him of you

He has taken one of your hoodies with him on long missions, he swears it’s the only thing that keeps him sane when he brings it close and gets the scent of you and home. He’s not concerned about having it damaged, he leaves it at base, neatly folded and stashed away like a treasure that he guards with his life

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Has a respectable amount of hoodies, he likes how comfy they are and he wears them well. The only thing better than him wearing them, is you wearing them

He’s a tease, he wants you to take his hoodies but he’ll never outright say so. You won’t have a choice though when he straight up steals and hides all of your outerwear, leaving you to drift over to his wardrobe and take something

And then he acts incredibly smug about it as if he didn’t orchestrate the entire damn thing

He gets giddy whenever he sees you wear his things, you just look so damn cute. If you’re leaving for an event you better hope your friends don’t mind you being half an hour late because he will latch onto you, begging you to stay with him

Johnny will also try to wear your clothes. Doesn’t matter if you’re a few sizes smaller than him, he’s not afraid of prancing around in a crop top in the confines of your home (or in public if he’s very tipsy). Are you a similar or larger size to him? Well call Johnny a communist because it’s not your closet but our closet now. Don’t be surprised if some of your favourite clothes “magically” disappear

He becomes very proud and energetic when wearing your stuff or vice versa, he puffs his chest out like a pigeon but he does get very serious and apologetic if he accidentally damages your things and will immediately buy you a new one

A chronic clothes stealer, he has most definitely taken your non-important items with him to missions. He stores them under his camp bed, he calls it a mini shrine that he worships for good luck

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Probably the most fashionable out of the 141 (although the bar isn’t set particularly high), he has a range of hoodies for various casual occasions, dark for covert missions, brighter if he’s just out with friends, you name it, he’s probably got it

His clothes are so high quality you honestly feel bad so you initially avoided using his clothes, which just broke Kyle’s heart because he’s an absolute sucker for the trope of partners sharing their things. He has to near beg you to take his stuff

But when you finally do? Especially out of your own volition? Kyle is all over you, praising you to the moon and back about how good you look, trying to encourage you to take more of his things

Extra points if you borrow his hats, Kyle swears it’s the cutest sight in existence and now he has a reason to look forward to a sunny day

Loves cuddling you while you’re wearing his hoodie, particularly where you’re lying on the couch and he’s on top of you, head on your stomach or chest. He has to give himself credit, he bought some very soft hoodies and on you with his head listening to your heartbeat has him feeling like he’s lying on a cloud

He adores how at the end of the day his clothes end up smelling like you instead, he’s almost tempted to never wash them

He will never gift you clothes, if you want clothes you’re taking them from his wardrobe and that’s final. The only exception is if he wants you two to wear stylish matching outfits where he’ll supply you with what you need

Alejandro Vargas

A man of style, Alejandro much prefers his turtleneck jumpers (also because he knows he absolutely kills it) but he does have a hoodie or two if he’s really prioritising discretion or comfort for the day

Seeing you in his hoodie gets him incredibly riled up, even if to you it’s not incredibly stylish or sexy. The instant he lays eyes on you in his clothes he’s rushing up to pull you into a passionate kiss, hands tugging and massaging you through the thick fabric. Whenever you have to pull away he’s purring in Spanish before pulling you back in

Obsessed with seeing you in his clothes, if you ask for a jacket he’s automatically going to his wardrobe. If you want your own clothes you’re going to have to get it yourself because Alejandro can be very stubborn when he wants to be and will only bring you his own attire

Alejandro will gladly borrow your clothes if he can, but only in private. It destroys him inside because he desperately wants to be publicly associated with you but he will never risk your safety associating with him in Las Almas for his own selfish wishes

An absolute gentleman, he loves putting clothes on you. He opens up the hoodie so it’s easier for you to slip your arms in, he zips it up for you, and then he tugs at the folds so it compliments you perfectly. In his world, you’re the emperor and he’s but a humble and grateful servant, he’s not letting you lift a finger

The only thing he could enjoy more than putting on your clothes is taking them off for you. Not even in a lustful manner (although that’s not off the table for him), it just feels intimate, like he’s pulling armour off of you, with you entrusting him with your most vulnerable self and he’s honoured you trust him this much

Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

He likes his cosiness and practicality so he has a fair lot of hoodies and he’s more than happy to lend them to you. You don’t even have to ask, he just assumed that when you two became a couple his stuff was yours too

But when Rudy first saw you in his clothes, he was taken aback. He never thought much of his clothes, they just look decent and offered functionality, so how did you make such mediocre items look so damn good?

Gets oddly sentimental when he sees you in his clothes. It’s such a domestic sight, one he thought he’d never see when he dedicated himself to Las Almas. Every time he’s holding you close, peppering your face with brief but hefty kisses. You won’t be escaping his grip anytime soon

Rodolfo will only borrow your clothes if you explicitly tell him you can. He adores you and treats all your items as something sacred, it feels almost blasphemous using your things

When he does use your items, he realised it’s been a long time since he’s felt bashful. Not that he’s embarrassed or ashamed of you, far from it. He just knows some of his soldiers will ask and he’s near giddy that he can talk about you

Another clothes helper, he giggles when he sees you get tangled and lost in his slip on hoodie, accidentally trying to put your head through the arm sleeve. He gently guides you, and when you finally poke your head out, he gives you a soft smile and a kiss on the forehead as though he hasn’t seen you in months

“Ah, I found you mì amor.”

Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #task force 141 x reader #los vaqueros x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #rudy x reader #/*avery actually writes*/

[callsign-bunnie]

For your consideration: Rudy and Ghost smoking together and shotgunning it between one another

god we need an artist on this ship, pls

#ghost cod #rodolfo cod #ghost x rodolfo #rodolfo x ghost #call of duty

[writer-of-various]

*opens door like a normal human being*

I did say I was gonna make a meme...

Also sorry about the door

*leaves a raccoon as a gift and walks out*

#cod mw22 #cod memes and shit #my memes and shit #rodolfo parra #meow meow rudy #alejandro x rodolfo #ghost x rodolfo #soap x rudy #graves x rudy

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction To You Panty-Flashing Them

Warnings: Implied Smut, Mean! MW2, Dominant! MW2, Victim/Reader Blaming, Slut-Shaming, Reader Getting Pimped Out, Mention of a Leash, Allusions to Injury, Mentions of Blood, Petnames, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Ghost

Ghost is a territorial man. So seeing you flash not only him but Johnny as well made something in him simmer.

It wasn’t rage, for this little accident, regardless of how intentional it was, was not your fault. If he had to place it, he’d attribute it to…

Lust.

As was evident in how he excused himself from the gathering of the 141 and Los Vaqueros in your living room, grabbing you by your arm.

He stowed you away. Dragged you to a desolate laundry room and gripped you by your thighs. You gasped, gripped onto him. Felt something hard rub against you.

Ghost threw you atop the washing machine and gave you a harsh stare as he watched you try to fight the feeling building within from the machine’s buzzing and shuffling.

“Go on then, Doll,” he rasps, eyes hard and the throbbing monster between his legs harder. He palmed himself. Remorse was not in his nature. And neither was mercy.

“Seein’ as you were practically beggin’ the others to fuck you, go and put on a show.”

His voice lowered. He stood between your legs, frame blocking you from any form of help or salvation.

“Just for me.”

König

König had been sat on your sofa, an action figure in a house for a doll half his size, and you’d bent over to retrieve something from beneath the TV cabinet.

The fact that you were wearing a pair of König’s shorts was already clouding his moral compass. Seeing your underwear peeking out beneath them was what sent him over the edge.

As you remained bent, cheek pressed to the floor as you reached for what you’d lost, you didn’t hear König approach. Didn’t know he’d even moved from the sofa until something thick and hard was pressed to the back of you, followed by two heavy hands holding you at the waist, and a slow, shuttering breath.

“Don’t move,” König told you. “Stay like this.”

Slowly, he pressed deeper into you. You could feel his restraint unwinding second by second.

It was when he bent over you, had his broad chest pressed to your back, that you knew you weren’t escaping. And you weren’t backing down.

“I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you cum, bleed or pass out.” König’s voice held no humour, but you could feel the franticity building in it.

He reached round, gripped your chin. Made you look at him. His smile was sharp, his features dark.

“Whichever comes first.”

Soap

Johnny pulled the leash tighter around your throat when you tried to protest your innocence. Tried to make him see reason.

“Doesn’t matter that it was ‘just an accident’.” He mimicked you, made you sound weak, whiny. His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched. His knuckles turned white around the leash.

His shadow loomed over you from your position on the bed, on your hands and knees while Johnny presided over you with an iron fist.

Tears obscured his silhouette. Made your eyes glassy.

“Aww, Did I upset you, Bonnie?” Johnny’s tone held a gruffness that didn’t even try to hide the anger running beneath.

He huffed, a mocking laugh.

“How’d’ya think I felt when you were practically spreading your legs for Simon?”

Again, you tried to tell him what really happened. Tried to incur any fragment of mercy Soap would spare you.

He pulled on the leash again. Tighter. You gasped, hands flying up to the leather around your neck, trying to loosen it – to plead for Johnny’s favour – as the air was knocked out of you.

“Oh no, you don’t get to talk.” He said. He stepped to you. The bulge in his jeans became ever more noticeable. Impending.

“M’gonna use you like the whore you are ‘til my cum’s leaking out of every hole in your body.”

Valeria

“Do I look like I fucking care, Darling?” Valeria circled you, her belt wrapped around her hand, a glint of darkness in her eye.

Wrists and ankles duct-taped to the chair, you could do little to follow her. To understand her intentions.

“Do you really think whatever little lie you pass off as an excuse can quell the fire you’ve set?”

Before you could attest your innocence, beg for forgiveness, Valeria’s belt came down across your thighs. Crying out, you flinched, tried to withdraw, pushing your chair back in the process.

Valeria lunged forward and gripped the chair by the arms, pressing your skin into the wood, and dragged you back.

Her face twisted into a visceral snarl, the portrait of evil.

“Please, Valeria, I’m begging you–”

“Oh, you’ll beg for me, alright.” Valeria looked down at you, her face to yours. Just shy of your noses touching. With bared teeth, she smiled.

“I won’t stop until you do.”

Price

“If you wanted attention that badly, you could’ve just asked.”

Price had your arms and legs bound to a hard, wooden chair while a thick ream of cloth had your mouth gagged. He stood over you, arms crossed over his front, a glint in his eye. He sighed, brought his hands to grip your tied forearms. Pressed them into the armrests.

You winced.

“What…possessed you to go and show your arse to Alejandro and the rest of the team?” His voice reflected a tone of ponderment found only in Sarcasm’s extended family tree. And it showed with the faux confusion written in his brow.

“Do I just not cut it for you?” He leaned in. The chair creaked. Your arms hurt. He didn’t let up.

“Am I not enough to keep you from throwing yourself at the nearest soldier?”

He watched you, his stare narrow. You shook your head, eyes wide. You tried speaking through the gag, tried to tell him that he was the only man you loved, but you both knew your efforts were futile.

He withdrew, gripped his belt, adopted his default stance. He heaved a deep breath.

“Come in, lads,” he called behind him, not taking his gaze off you. Your stomach tightened.

A thin smile stretched across Price's lips as he watched your eyes widen, your gaze following Simon, Soap, Gaz, Rudy and Alejandro as they filtered into the room.

Price bowed at the waist, lowered his voice so only you could hear.

“Seeing as you’re so keen to show ‘em what’s under your clothes, I’m gonna let them use you ‘til you’ve learnt your lesson.”

Horangi

Hong-Jin popped the top button of his jeans, keeping his gaze trained on you, spearing you with a dark stare.

“Did you enjoy giving König and I a little show, Dear?”

Sarcasm nestled in his tone, a viper in a den. But the excitement running parallel beneath it, just shy of its transparent underbelly, was evident.

Hong-Jin slid the zip of his jeans down. Pulled the denim over his hips.

“It’s only fair that I…” He took your hand, placed it at the hem of his underwear. Dipped beneath the band.

His skin was scorching. Something pulsated beneath your fingers.

The implication sat heavy in his tone. In his eyes.

“Return the favour.”

Alejandro

“I didn’t know I was dating such an attention-seeking whore.”

Alejandro’s voice was the roll of thunder across a darkened valley, the weight of a downpour of knives settled into his tone.

Hands behind his back, he stood over you, having resigned you to sitting on your knees, the hardwood floor pushing against your joints.

“Luckily for you, I’m not the type to hold grudges.” A smile played at his lips. One you knew not to trust.

“But he is.”

Alejandro looked to the door, where, from beyond its frame, emerged Rudy. His face held a similar, serpentine pallor, his lips drawn up into a thin smile. Venom in his veins.

“Wasn’t expecting to get blue-balled by (Y/N) earlier, Ale,” came Rudy, his usually sugared demeanour having dropped, the veil between what he was and what he showed to the world slipping away. Retreating.

Alejandro gave him a knowing look. He turned back to you.

“Why don’t you be a good little doll and put your face to the floor. Just like we practised.”

The memory of leashes, lashings and tears flooded your memory. You held back a  wanton whimper.

Alejandro’s voice dropped. “And let Rudy see the rest of what you promised him.”

Rodolfo

“I don’t want to have to do this, Cariño. Rudy stood over you, his hands on your shoulders and his face dark. Grim.

His hold on your shoulders tightened.

“But I can’t let your behaviour go…”

He searched your eyes for the right word. His brow furrowed when he found it.

“Unchecked.”

He sighed. Pushed down on your shoulders.

“Come on, Angel. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He told you, pushing harder until you bent to his will.

Now, on your knees, you could see how desperately he needed you.

One hand came to your jaw, thumb trailing to your lip, pulling your mouth open. The other slid down to his belt, sliding it from the buckle. It hissed, pulled tight against the metal. You swallowed.

Rudy’s breath shuttered, and you could tell from the way his hand clenched, the way he slipped the belt from his jeans like a snake, that he was enjoying this. Much more than he wanted to let on.

“Now remember, mi Amor, no teeth, no biting.” His head tilted. Condescending. “Or I’ll bite you back.”

Graves

He can barely contain himself.

It was only the briefest of flashes. It wasn’t even intentional. But something about your shy smile after the fact once you realised what you’d done sent a vicious little idea to Graves’s head.

He starts stealing all your underwear. Gradually, yet in large enough volumes that he doesn’t have to wait longer than he can handle without his reward.

One day, you come into his office, face warm and tugging an oversized shirt over the top of your thighs.

“Missing something, Darlin’?” Graves drawls. Your eyes narrow at him. You know he’s had something to do with your underwear’s disappearing act.

He puts his papers down, sighs, and rests the back of his head in his hands against the backrest of his chair.

“How about you flash me again. Slowly, now.” His eyes glint with a dark mischief and want.

“Y’don’t wanna know what happens if you don't do it the way I like it.”

Gaz

“Oh, Darling, look what you’ve done,” Gaz’s voice carried despite the thickening tension in the room. Neither of you needed to look down to see what he was referring to.

Despite the chastising tone in his voice, his eyes were warm. Kind, almost.

“If you wanted my attention so badly, you only had to ask.”

He stepped towards you, placing a hand under your jaw. He smiled.

“It’s only fair that I reward you for being so creative, isn’t it ?”

His other hand came to your shoulder, pushing the strap of your tank top until it fell, leaving the sweeping juncture between your neck and shoulder exposed.

Has bit back a shuttering breath.

Despite his gentile voice, an angeline choir, the soundtrack of mercy, there lay a hunger in his eyes, in his barely-restrained grip, that suggested a beast lurked beneath his pretty boy exterior.

And you knew from the way he told you to “Get on the bed – be good for me,” that you’d be seeing it tonight.

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

AO3 Wattpad

#mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #konig x reader #konig smut #ghost x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price smut #ghost smut #soap x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #valeria garza x reader #kyle gaz garrick #rodolfo parra #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod

[lxvvie]

Simps 'R Us, Between the Sheets edition: Your faves and the wholesome and funny things you two get up to in bed, part I.

Capt. John Price - When he's half asleep and about to snore loud enough to wake the dead (Price vehemently denies this), you like to have random conversations with him because you know questions you ask will do one of two things: elicit a nonsensical answer from the Cap'n or... wake him up from his sleep altogether.

Gaz - Is curling up into himself because you're the big spoon, you're running your hands over his body because he's highkey lowkey ticklish, and your face is buried in his neck because... he's highkey lowkey ticklish. "Darling, please—" Gaz manages to gasp out between... wait, are you giggling, Garrick?

Soap - Your darling golden retriever chaotic good boyfriend loves... to sleep naked. You're not complaining, though, especially because he loves it when you lay on him. You've made a home for yourself between his thighs; his stomach is your pillow, and he usually has a hand rubbing your head. Helps him to relax, y'know, bonnie? And whenever you don't lay on him, it's an affront to Johnny's... everything. His heart is broken. His soul is crushed. You're too far away from him (even though you're still right under him). How could you do this to him? He can't live like this. No other stud muffin can offer you what he can, beautiful. But no really, bonnie, he needs you on top of him like... yesterday.

Ghost - You really like his body. Like... really like his body. You blow raspberries on his stomach, you smack his ass, you talk about his eyelashes—scratch that, you love his body. To you, every scar tells a story, and you've asked him plenty of times to talk about them. And then you did the unthinkable that had Simon wanting to disappear into the fucking blankets—"Si-bear, I didn't know you had a mole on your inner thigh!" Bloody fucking hell, he'll never hear the end of this. And then you kissed it and Ghost's face had never felt so bloody hot before. Christ, you'll be the death of him, sweetheart.

Roach - Nothing but the most sickeningly saccharine stuff to ever stuff happens with Roach. A poke-fest, a kiss-fest, a tickle-fest, you name it, it happens. Roach loves to sleep with his face buried in your chest and arms wound tight around you. Always. You rubbing his head soothes him to sleep as well.

Alex - You're also the big spoon here, too. You're busy talking about conspiracy theories you believe the government is/was involved in and Alex is entertaining you ("That so, Boss?"). In actuality, his eyes are comically wide because the truth is oftentimes stranger than fiction and you may or may not be walking a little heavy there, Boss.

Alejandro - Is the big spoon to your little spoon in bed no matter what you're doing. Loves to intertwine your legs together, too. Alejo murmurs how much he loves you in your ear and kisses the top of your head before telling you good night.

Rudy - Sometimes when he's asleep, you'll whisper "Rodolfo" in his ear which causes Rudy to shoot up, eyes comically wide because the only time someone calls him by his full government name is when he gets into shit but it wasn't him this time, it was that idiot Alvarez— "Didn't get to tell you good night and I love you, Rudy, so... good night and I love you, Rudy." Oh. Oh. Ha. Real funny.

Farah - A cuddle bunny through and through. She loves laying up under you, her head resting on your shoulder or under your chin, or her face in the crook of your neck. She wants to hear you as you sleep. She wants to feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest or the resonances as you speak. Farah simply can't get enough of you.

Keegan - It's really you teasing him because Keegan isn't one to really get flustered or deviate from his infamously neutral expression. Much. Until you came along. You two are relaxing in bed and you're the one randomly calling out, "Hey, Kee-Kee," to which Keegan makes the most surprised and disgusted face in response and you're wheezing.

#2queued4u. #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty ghosts #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod x reader #cod x you #x black reader #x poc reader #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #alex keller x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #farah karim x reader #keegan p russ x reader #gary roach sanderson x reader #task force 141 #los vaqueros

[wxnheart]

On today's episode of "My Simpin' Ass Friend Asks Horny Ass Questions": How would the boys react to you putting your hand in their back pocket and copping a feel?

Capt. John Price - Is startled to the point he drops his cigar. Oops. He's a little sheepish about it but it feels good knowing the old man's still got it.

Gaz - It actually didn't register because he was paying attention to something else; it takes you literally squeezing his ass for him to realize it. Jumps slightly. Will also hit you with the side-eye every time you point out how hilarious his expression was when he did it, too.

Ghost - Will sigh in long-suffering. Is just long-suffering in general. This is exactly why he doesn't bend over whenever you're nearby because you're liable to make a comment or two ("Nice ass, Lt."). Has gotten used to it to the point that he gauges your disposition by whether or not you cop a feel that day.

Soap - One of two things. Hits you with one of his signature smirks and steals a kiss or he'll giggle... snort. You are not allowed to talk about the latter. Your uwu golden retriever.

Alejandro - To your surprise, he hits you with that stare. Yeah, that stare. You know, the one where he's gonna give you something you can feel later on that night. Have you walking from side to side the next day *in my Ariana voice*.

Rudy - Actually jumped when you first did it. Tries to crack a joke to take away from the fact that he was caught off guard but all it did was make you laugh harder at him. No, his cheeks aren't red, what the hell are you talking about?

König - König.exe stops working.

Horangi - Does it back. Two can play this game. Caresses your ass; makes love to it with his hand. Leaves you horny and angry after he walks off all triumphant and shit.

Graves - "I've always been blessed, darlin'." This is accompanied by the most sleaziest grin you ever saw. Smug bastard.

#call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #rodolfo rudy parra #alejandro vargas #kim horangi hong jin #könig #phillip graves #john price x reader #gaz x reader #könig x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy x reader #horangi x reader #phillip graves x reader #because this resulted from a conversation we had about a list on my other blog and I figured I'd share it with y'all too lmao. #cutie 𝓠.