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ragingbookdragon · 1 year

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He felt her moving even before she started moving, heavy arms wrapping around her waist to pin her against him. She gave a sleepy laugh, trying to untangle herself from him. “Babe, I gotta go pee.”

“Pee later,” he muttered against her neck, already throwing a leg over hers. “Wanna cuddle.”

“Baaaaaaaaabe,” she giggled, trying to no avail to free herself. “I gotta goooooooo.”

“Noooooooo,” he mocked back, burying his head in the pillow. “Stay with me and cuddle”

She dissolved into laughter and resigned herself to her fate. “At least let me roll over so I can see your handsome face.”

There was a moment of stillness. “…Promise you won’t run when I open my arms?”

“I promise!” she chirped. “Scouts honor.”

“Alright,” he agreed, unwinding his arms and legs. “I trust you. You better not break—”

The second, his grip slackened, she bolted, hurtling off the side of the bed and into the bathroom, cackling as he started to groan and whine about, “Being betrayed by his most lovely.”

She returned shortly to see him face down in the bed, still groaning and she crawled onto the mattress, laying on his back as she dug her hands under his chest. “I’m sorry, babe,” she murmured, turning her head to lay on the expanse of his shoulder blades. “I had to go tinkle.”

“You left me.”

“I know,” she pouted, kissing his back. “You had to spend two minutes in bed without me. I’m so sorry.”

“Now you’re mocking me.”

“I do it because I love you.” She squeezed his sides. “C’mon handsome, lemme see you.” He turned his head and gave her a pout. “I love you,” she grinned, and he looked away, a smile turning up the corner of his lips.

“Love you more.”

She rested her head back on his shoulders. “I love you most.”

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multific · 1 year

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Johnny Coming Home to You - Headcanons

John “Soap” MacTavish

Warnings: mention of smut

Every time he came home, he was nervous

And this nervous feeling always caught up with him the moment he stepped out the car

He was ready to go into his house

But he was always afraid it would greet him empty with a note from you

He didn't fear no man, no machine or missle, no vehicle or bomb

John's biggest fear was to arrive home and you'd be gone

That you'd have enough of waiting for him and leave

But you never did

You were always there, waiting patiently

If he arrived home during the night, he would be relieved to find a light on

Knowing, you are there eased him

Every time, when you are not asleep, you'd run into his arms

He would squeeze you so tight, it almost hurt

But each and every time, he would start off with a "I'm home, Love."

Before kissing you

You would shead tears of happiness, which he would always whipe away

He would always kiss you more and more

He would tell you he loved you

And you'd do the same

You'd often mention how bad he smells and that he needed a shower or a bath

You'd always join him

Sweet, innocent shower where he would only roam his hands along your body while you looked if there were any new wounds you needed to memorize

It was nothing sexual

Only two lovers finally holding each other

He was always eager to get you to bed after bathing

Feel you in every way possible

But you'd always tell him to eat first

Your cooking was his favourite

And your eyes would always shine in a different way when he was home

He knew you loved him

And you would never stand in between him and his work, but having him home was always your favourite part

After bathing and eating, he would always take you to your shared bed

There were times when you didn't make it to the bed

But you weren’t complaining

He was finally home

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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holycryptid · 2 months

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The Death of Peace of Mind

Simon “Ghost” Riley x John “Soap” MacTavish.

Explicit content (18+)

Word count: 1.9k

Tags/warnings: masturbation/use of sex toys, explicit language, sexting…?, objectification, possessive/obsessive simon, depictions of sex work, simon’s head is empty yet he has so many thoughts (let me know if anything was missed!)

Summary: Camboy!Soap AU - Simon is Soap’s most dedicated and loyal subscriber.

Notes: i never thought i’d write soapghost tbh. however, do not take this as factual or use it as educational! this world is different for everyone in many ways :) enjoy!

Simon Riley is a calm and collected man until he opens his laptop on Sunday nights.

The days on base are starting to blend together as he quickly approaches his requested leave, desperate for some prolonged peace and quiet to soothe and recharge after months on end of constant impassioned interactions with no time to decompress.

He is drained.

Simon quickly opens a new private tab, typing the desired website into the search bar and pressing the return button a little harder than necessary.

He navigates the explicit site with embarrassing ease, immediately clicking out of the onslaught of clickbait pop-ups he’s started to memorize by now. Various thumbnails of pleasure-filled faces consume his probably too-bright screen until he finds his subscriptions tab to the left under his profile.

A single rational thought isn’t able to find a way to his brain as he lands upon what he’s been waiting for all day. All week.

Too many arduous days on base have made him unsettled and irritable. This is his cure...at least for the next seven days until the cycle inevitably repeats itself.

Subscriptions: Soap_Strokes [live show happening now!]

Simon clicks the username and is redirected to the livestream before he can even think to get his dick out.

He should feel...dirty? Remorseful? Maybe sympathetic for himself, for how much he enjoys something he knows he probably shouldn’t. He hasn’t quite made time yet to think through his ethics regarding this hobby.

He knows he needs to unwind. He knows he needs a good wank. He knows who can give him that.

GhostWithTheMost has joined.

Simon’s alert eyes skitter across the screen as he assesses the violently colourful, and clearly custom, page layout Soap has set-up for his weekly shows. Indistinct music is playing in the background of Soap’s room, but it’s nothing that will be able to hide or cover the erotic sounds of self-pleasure.

Simon finds the small live chat at the bottom of the screen already running rampant with poor excuses for compliments and sexual declarations that hold no real value anywhere besides here.

Then his eyes find Soap—the man who has made his weekends slightly more bearable and his cock painfully hard on too many occasions, now included.

Soap’s pretty. A real, true “pretty boy” if Simon ever saw one. A perfect specimen in his (correct) opinion. Toned muscles, well-groomed body, soft yet defined features with the light shadow of stubble, a wavy and very overgrown mohawk that’s still kept short on the sides, a small septum ring, and barbells through each nipple that glint with every breath he takes.

Simon felt like he had found God when he accidentally browsed his way into one of Soap’s shows. When he joined, Soap was busy sliding a small black prostate massager in and out of his hole at a desperate pace, his other hand firmly squeezing the base of his twitching cock to torture himself. His cheeks and neck had fallen victim to a deep pink blush, either from arousal or effort, but it was the intensity of the scene that caught Simon.

This didn’t look like a man simply performing for others and their money, it looked genuine and passionate. Maybe that was the goal. A professional at the job, then. He had Simon fooled, if so.

Simon was instantly enthralled with his seemingly effortless beauty and physique. So much so, that he forgot to do what he was there to do: get off.

Soap’s own abrupt, and loud, orgasm was the thing that brought Simon back to reality that night, and he didn’t realize what he had just experienced until Soap ended the stream breathless and with a stomach covered in cum.

Soap left Simon in the darkness of his room, staring dumbfounded at the now empty screen of his laptop, blue-balled by no fault but his own, and with immensely scattered thoughts that couldn’t form into something coherent.

He was completely under the spell of whoever this man was when he’s in front of a camera. Soap. Simon later made himself cum to the sounds of whimpers that already housed themselves deep within his memory.

Now, Soap takes up the majority of Simon’s screen, already naked and partially spread with a cheeky smile on his lips, like usual, as he silently pretends to read through some of the “flattering” comments.

thekingcock commented: I’d fuck you so good baby !!!

Gazzy_xo commented: sexy sexy sexyy. I really need a taste of you

MrPriceAlmighty commented: im so hard already. Can’t wait another second

Soap is situated comfortably on his bed with his camera angled straight on, shooting between his parted legs and obnoxiously highlighting the huge Scottish flag pinned above his bed, yet everything is still framed perfectly. His cock rests semi-hard against his defined stomach while he teasingly runs his fingertips along the insides of his thighs to maintain viewership.

Simon takes this “opening lull” as a chance to organize himself. He manages to pull himself out of his trance of devouring Soap with his thoughtless gaze.

Laptop: placed on the small table in front of him.

Pants: off.

Briefs: also off.

Cock: out (and hard).

He sits back on his couch, laptop mere inches away and potentially damaging his retinas if they haven’t been already from times previous, and he confidently clicks the DONATE button flashing in the top left of Soap’s page.

The default amount he set goes through in seconds.

GhostWithTheMost donated £5!

A small ping echoes throughout Simon’s dark room as it goes through to Soap’s side of the screen, the donation popping up in the corner for everyone else watching to see.

He sees Soap’s attention move from the comments to the sound. “Ah, the ghost wants to get started, aye? Alright, let’s fucking go.” Another smile blooms across Soap’s face.

Simon reaches for his cock at the same time Soap reaches for his. But for Soap it was a mindless gesture—maybe instinct—just to keep it in place as he leans closer to the camera to press some buttons on his keyboard.

Simon notes how biteable and lickable his shoulders and neck look from this perspective.

“Prices are going up now. You control me and what you want to see.” Soap flashes a quick wink as four bold lines appear at the top right of the page:

15 SECONDS - £30

45 SECONDS - £80

2 MINUTES - £250

10 MINUTES - £500

“The show ends when I cum, so...don’t make it too quick.” He teasingly glares at the camera with a light chuckle that makes Simon turn his volume up a few notches.

He wonders how fast he could make Soap cum. A shiver crawls up his spine and his cock throbs at the thought.

Simon is willing to lose (and has lost) as much as it takes to see Soap cum, but he squints at the list, noticing that the prices aren’t what they usually average out to.

Has Soap just become that popular? Simon frowns at the idea. It feels like Soap is a secret between him and a handful of people, and he wants it to stay that way. It makes it feel more special, even if it isn’t. He likes the delusion.

Soap repositions his camera, angling it higher and tilting slightly downward so watchers will have a better view of the entirety of him, not just his cock and hole. He ducks to shift something into frame, and Simon very quickly realizes this isn’t going to be like Soap’s other shows.

Simon fixates his glare on the sizeable dildo that has been brought centre-frame in front of Soap’s bed. It’s very pink and very big, probably bigger than him, ribbed with prominent veins near the head. He follows the thin silver rod it’s attached to until it disappears out of frame.

It’s a goddamn fuck machine. A fucking machine. A machine that fucks you.

An excited-anxious feeling fills Simon’s gut, and a light sweat breaks out over his neck at the knowledge of Soap being in possession of one of these realistic and elaborate toys.

This is not how this is supposed to go, Simon thinks.

Well, technically yes, it is.

But to this extent? Technically, also yes. It’s Soap’s job. Two weeks ago, it was a translucent jelly stroker that Simon wished was his hand. Last week, anal beads and a body-wand that Simon wished was his cock and tongue instead.

And now this.

Soap slides back onto his bed with a bottle of lube in hand with that shameless smile on his face again. He sets himself back into the position he took before—leaning back on his elbows with his legs spread for everyone, and even the Holy Spirit, to see.

“In case you all haven’t put it together yet, donations control the amount of time the machine will fuck me for. You donate thirty, it’ll automatically fuck me for fifteen seconds, and so on,” he trails off, popping open the cap of the lube and squeezing a generous amount onto his cock and stomach.

Simon’s mouth has fallen open and gone dry. “You’re fucking kidding me,” he whispers into the darkness like a prayer that will save him from whatever he is about to experience.

His fist starts slow movements over his cock. Not even some spit needed to aid him; the amount of pre-cum leaking from him already should be embarrassing.

Soap tosses the bottle aside, takes that same hand, and rubs it over his now hard cock to spread the lube around and down to his hole. A heavy sigh releases itself from his throat as he presses two fingers in himself immediately, pumping them a few times before going back to carefully stroking his length. The slick sounds of his hand tugging on his cock has Simon adjusting his volume higher again.

Is it bad that Simon can tell he had a plug in before the show to better prepare for the dildo? Definitely bad.

Soap indulges the audience with this light foreplay until more donations begin to roll in. “A-ah, as soon as donations hit one-hundred, it’ll be the machines turn.” A breathy laugh is pulled from him on a particularly good downstroke of his fist, eyes fluttering for a moment as he shudders.

Simon is about to risk it all. He looks at the donation meter total: £75.

With his left hand, he clicks the DONATE button again, this time changing the amount before sending.

GhostWithTheMost donated £25!

The meter flashes as it hits its first milestone. £100!

Soap glances over to his monitor, hand never slowing or leaving his wet cock, and his lips turn up into another mischievous smile. “The ghost saving you all once again, huh?” His accent almost slurs the sentence to something unintelligible.

Soap lets out a soft moan as he pulls his hand away, gathering the excess lube on it and leaning forward to stroke the dildo waiting for him. “Thanks, ghosty. Dinnae know how much longer I could wait.” Another smile for the camera.

No. A smile for Simon.

It’s easy for Simon to forget that he’s not the only one watching this right now, but he forgot that fact as soon as Soap acknowledged his presence earlier.

Simon watches how Soap’s hand works the silicone, making sure to cover its entirety with the leftover lube. “Bastard,” Simon growls, still pumping himself with a lose fist just to ease some of the ache that’s settled deep in his cock.

Simon notices a light pink has already begun to paint Soap’s cheeks as he falls back onto the bed with wild eyes, some of his unruly mohawk flopping onto his forehead in divine strands.

Simon knows better than to screenshot something of this nature, but fuck, if his self-restraint is ever being tested right now.

#simon riley x john mactavish #ghost x soap #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #ghoap #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fic #simon riley fanfic #john mactavish fanfic #call of duty imagine #simon riley imagines #john mactavish imagines #ghost cod fanfic #call of duty smut #ghost x soap smut #simon riley x john mactavish smut

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sailorsolar12 · 8 months

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Homecoming (Soap Version)

Character: John "Soap" MacTavish

Pairing: Soap x GN Reader (Y/N is not used)

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: none

John MacTavish had spent the last six months in a war-torn country, facing danger at every turn, and enduring the harshest of conditions. He was a battle-hardened soldier, a skilled operative in the international Special Forces. But now, after what felt like an eternity, he was finally returning home.

As the plane touched down on familiar soil, John's heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. He hadn't seen his significant other in half a year, and he couldn't wait to wrap them in his arms. He disembarked from the aircraft and made his way through the bustling airport, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. The airport was filled with families reuniting, loved ones hugging and laughing, tears of joy streaming down cheeks. John's heart swelled as he watched these scenes unfold, knowing that his own reunion was just moments away.

He stepped out of the airport into the warm embrace of the afternoon sun. His significant other had insisted on picking him up, and they had promised to be there when he arrived. John scanned the crowd, his heart pounding harder with every passing second. And then, a familiar figure caught his eye. Their hair was dyed a vibrant shade of blue, and they wore a t-shirt with a slogan that made John chuckle despite himself. It read, "I survived six months without you – toughest mission ever!"

John couldn't help but break into a grin as they saw each other. He quickened his pace, the duffel bag forgotten as he closed the distance between them. And then, finally, they were in each other's arms. The embrace was tight, full of a longing that words could never express. John buried his face in their hair, inhaling deeply and committing their scent to memory. They held onto each other as if they were afraid to let go, as if the world might steal this moment away from them.

"I can't believe you're finally home," they whispered into his ear, their voice filled with emotion.

"I missed you so damn much," John replied, his voice rough with a mix of relief and overwhelming love.

They pulled back slightly, their eyes locking onto his. "Well, prepare yourself, because I've got a whole list of things planned for us now that you're back."

John raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh really? Do I even want to know what's on that list?"

They laughed, a sound that was like music to John's ears. "Trust me, you're going to love it."

Together, they walked towards the car that was parked nearby. John's significant other took his hand in theirs, their fingers intertwining naturally, as if they were made to fit together. The drive home was filled with easy conversation, catching up on all the little things that had happened during John's absence. They talked about their friends, their work, the latest movies they had seen, and the new restaurant that had opened in town.

When they finally arrived home, John couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. The familiar surroundings, the comforting scent of their shared space – it was all so reassuring after the chaos of the battlefield. As he stepped inside, he looked around, taking in the little changes they had made to the decor, the way their personal touches had made the place feel even more like home.

"So, what's first on the list?" John asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

His significant other grinned mischievously. "Well, first we're going to get you cleaned up. Then, we're going to have a movie night – your choice of film, of course. And after that, I've got a surprise dinner planned."

John raised an eyebrow. "A surprise dinner, huh? Should I be worried?"

They chuckled. "Don't worry, it's nothing too fancy. Just something I've been wanting to cook for you."

As John took a long, hot shower, he couldn't help but reflect on how lucky he was to have someone like them in his life. They had been his rock throughout his deployment, sending him care packages, staying up late to video call despite the time zone difference, and writing him letters that he cherished more than anything. Their unwavering support had kept him going during the toughest of times, and now that he was home, he was determined to make every moment count.

When he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in comfortable lounge pants and a soft t-shirt, he found the living room transformed into a cozy haven. Blankets and pillows were strewn across the couch, and a selection of movies was laid out on the coffee table. His significant other was already nestled on the couch, their eyes lighting up when they saw him.

"Welcome to movie night," they said, patting the spot next to them.

John settled in beside them, the warmth of their presence seeping into his bones. They took turns picking movies, laughing and joking as they debated which one to watch. As the opening scenes of the chosen film played on the screen, John couldn't help but steal glances at his significant other. Their laughter, their expressions – all of it was a reminder of the life he had fought so hard to return to.

After the movie, they moved into the kitchen together, working side by side as they prepared dinner. John watched them move with a sense of familiarity, a sense of comfort that only came from sharing a life with someone. They chatted and joked as they cooked, the tension and distance of the past six months melting away with every shared moment.

Finally, dinner was ready, and they sat down at the table, the food spread out before them. John took a bite of the dish they had prepared, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Wow, this is amazing."

They beamed with pride. "I'm glad you like it."

As they ate, they talked about their plans for the future. John shared his dreams of eventually leaving the battlefield behind, of finding a quieter life where he could be with them without the constant threat of danger. They listened, offering words of encouragement and support, their unwavering belief in him giving him the strength to pursue those dreams.

As the evening turned into night, John found himself feeling more at peace than he had in a long time. The weight of the past months seemed to lift off his shoulders, replaced by a sense of belonging and love. He looked at his significant other, really looked at them, and realized just how lucky he was to have them in his life.

As they curled up on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms, John whispered, "Thank you for waiting for me."

They looked up at him, their eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Always, John. You're home now, and that's all that matters."

And in that moment, as they held each other close, John knew that no matter what challenges the future might hold, as long as he had them by his side, he could face anything with courage and determination. The war had shaped him, but it was love that would heal him and guide him toward a future filled with hope and happiness.

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janasrdhr · 7 months

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This is the COD Masterlist. As shown, it features multiple tabs, each designed to facilitate navigation to the particular story of your choice. Please note that a few are yet to be introduced and updated further. Happy reading, lovelies!

⋆ Simon “Ghost” Riley

⤷ Oh baby, Oh baby ⤷ Princess? ⤷ A Night Too Young ⤷ Stay. ⤷ Hiraeth

⤷ Salvation

⋆ John “Soap” MacTavish

⋆ Alejandro Vargas

⋆ Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

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shadow4-1 · 14 days

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I'm just imagining getting so used to physical contact from the 141 that you don't realize it's inappropriate until it's too late.

At first you shied away from them all. You gave them a good breadth of space because, well, it would be inappropriate. But eventually you acquiesced to the noogies and the funny little pats Price loves to give.

Soon enough you found yourself being aggressively head-locked by Soap and tossed around by Gaz. It's just boys being boys, it's friendly and fun. The deeper your bond the less you seem to care about their hands on you.

It isn't until one night when you're playing a little handheld game in the rec room do you think maybe everyone's gotten a lil' too comfortable. You're curled up between Soap and Ghost in one of their hoodies and some non-reg shorts. Both of their hands are splayed out on your inner thighs, one tapping, the other rubbing. Gaz comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your neck to get a good look over your shoulder.

"Catching 'em all, Love?"

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

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chaosandmarigolds · 24 days

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“No, no no, baby-baby let mama talk-“ much to your dismay your toddler already took off with the tablet down the hall with your husband on face time. With a disgruntled huff you walk down the hall and move to open the door only to falter for a moment as you hear your husbands voice.

“Takin’ care of your mum, bubs?”

“Des sir.”

“Why you runnin’ from her then?”

“Caasaaus I wanna talk to you and when mummy starts to talk to you she doesn’t share.”

A gruff laugh, “Alright alright, well what do you wanna talk about then, lad?”

You stand outside the door for a solid ten minutes before you knocked on the door and moved your son to your lap to smile down at your husband.

“Hey, honey.”

“Hey, hot stuff.”

You see him roll his eyes and you bite back a smile.

“Lad told me you’re not sharin enough.”

You playfully gasp, which triggered your sons giddy laughter, “No! Really??”

“Really!”

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reds-skull · 1 month

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I really should draw Soap more with his red mask, as you all can tell I love it

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod soap #cod ghost #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #cod fanart #cod comic #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fanart #call of duty #this took. like a month.#dont expect this level of detail in the future. it looks nice but it takes wayyy too long to make #and. i dont have that kind of time #anyways. i imagine this happens pre-romantic relationship #it makes it funnier for me to draw ghost so obviously whipped and have soap like clueless lmao

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v1x3n · 2 months

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toxic fwb ghost x reader x johnny 'soap' mctavish┃ navigation part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 ୨୧ tags : angst, suggestive

simon 'ghost' riley who's one of your closest friends. he soon flirts with you and then you two decide to start shagging - no strings attached. just sex, a friends with benefits situation.

you had promised, even pinky swore to never fall in love with each other, he took the rules seriously and never fell in love but you couldn't last long.

simon knew you had liked him, hell, you fucking loved him. even before the casual hook-ups, and he still went through with it all. knowing you were in love with him. he took advantage of it.

he would grab onto you and fuck you whenever, you were his outlet, he knew you would spread or bend over whenever he wanted. he was your light and best friend, you would do anything for his love. yet the love never delivered to you.

simon soon regrets his choices after he caught you talking, laughing and checking out johnny 'soap' mctavish. Simons best friend.

comment to join main taglist!

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mistydeyes · 10 months

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what 141's military personnel file looks like

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

NOTE: NOT CANON! most of the information is based off of the wiki/my medical file post

summary: So what exactly were in those dossiers Price gave to Laswell at the end of MW 2019? Here's a look into those, along with some reminders/sticky notes. Answering this ask :)

template if you’d like to try it out!

ALSO! the ages were such a headache this post did a great job explaining how confusing the wiki/some statements are so please check it out

warnings: medical inaccuracies, mention of wounds/wound care, mentions of depression, medical terminology

a/n: these came out better than i thought! also 2004 was such a bad year for Price and Ghost

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

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ragingbookdragon · 3 months

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“I don’t like being out in the dark,” she says, holding the rifle closer to her. “Why’d Price send us out here again?”

Soap shifts, flicking the night vision goggles up and down to look over the deer stand. “Said somethin’ was buggin’ out ‘roun’ the town ‘ere. Was makin’ the locals scared.”

“So, Price sends us to save Herefordshire?” She rolls her eyes. “Shouldn’t that be his job?”

“‘e’s busy, so ‘e sent us.” Soap pauses, listening to the sounds in the forest around them. “Reports said whatever’s comin’ in and out of town is favored to this area.” He looked around. “What animals are even out ‘ere?”

“Rats, foxes, deer, mice, badger,” she replies, glancing up at the moon. “Nothing that would be killing large dogs and wildlife like it has.” Her eyes find Soap’s. “I checked with the morgue that had the first human attack. Whatever killed him, tore him to pieces. M.E. said there was a massive amount of adrenaline and cortisol in his system.”

Soap’s brows furrow. “Wha’ the fuck did tha’?”

“My guess? Some sadistic, psycho killer,” she answers and shifts her gaze towards the tree line; her eyes see a reflective flash from her the lights on her helmet and she frowns. “Soap, what’s that?”

“What’s wha’?” He follows her gaze, squinting in the dark. “I don’ see it.”

“There,” she says and points out. “There’s something in the tree line.”

Soap cranes his neck, squinting and he blinks. “I think tha’s a fox.”

“Doesn’t look like one.”

“Coyote?”

“Not native here.”

“Dog?” He tries and she frowns when it steps closer into the moonlight; her blood runs cold, and she shifts ever so slightly.

“Soap. Get in the deer stand. Now.”

He looks at her then back to the animal beginning to emerge. “Why? What is it?” As it clears, his eyes widen. “Is that a wolf?”

“Wolves are extinct in England.”

“Then wha’ the fuck is tha’?” He asks, a bile like fear beginning to rise in his throat.

She grabs her rifle, cocks it and points it at the four-legged beast. “It’s not a wolf. Get up in the tree stand. Now.”

“Lass, I—”

“That’s an order, Sergeant MacTavish,” she growls, watching with narrowed eyes as the wolf let out a soft growl and stood on two legs.

“Mother Mary and Joseph,” she hears from above her. “Is’a wulver.”

“That Scottish for werewolf, MacTavish?”

Soap breathes out in shock, can barely raise his rifle to provide covering fire if she needed it. “Aye, ‘tis.”

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lxvvie · 7 months

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Your fave who uses you to edge himself.

He's close. So. fucking. close. Damn near came he's so drunk off of you, but no, not yet―

Not when he needs you to cum for him again.

And so he continues, finds pleasure in the tight coil within that's fucking screaming for release, gets off to your moans, your screams, the way your body quivers because it's overstimulated, and the way you say his name...

He's close, so. fucking. close.

Fuck, baby. Bring it home for him.

Just one more time, yeah?

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soullessdianthus · 7 months

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Hear me out, but imagine living in polygamous relationship with Ghost and Soap – having two military men by your side, guarding you almost like dogs, hellhounds.

You would be their beloved sweetheart, usually sleeping in the middle, so both of them could feel your warmth and presence. Soap would be a big spoon, his bulky arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closely. Meanwhile Ghost prefers to sleep “unbothered” most of the time, but if you or Johnny cling to him during the night he doesn’t mind at all.

Because if you and Soap get needy for Ghost’s affection and tenderness at the same time, he would roll in the middle and cradle both of you to his chest. ❤️

Can you imagine how mind blowing the intimacy would be with them? Everyone’s needs are satisfied: bodies covered in sweat, splayed between the sheets. The heavy breaths filling the room when the bliss of pleasure begins to fade away.

#imagine #reader insert #ghost x reader #ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap #ghoap x reader

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kruegerslov3r · 19 days

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daddy issue? I LOVE DADDY ISSUES 🫶❤️

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months

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Simon Catches You Giving Johnny Head

Warnings: 18+, Implied Smut, Oral (Male receiving), Infidelity, Johnny being a Manipulator, Slut-Shaming, Implied Dub-Con Elements, Cum Swallowing, Stomach Bulging, Stomach Ache, Skin Irritation, Sexual Punishment, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Wordcount: 833 words

Simon had walked in on you giving Johnny head. And when you saw your boyfriend’s hulking silhouette take up the entire doorway, you scrambled off Johnny’s soaked shaft and looked up into Simon’s eyes with a wide, frightful stare.

Simon was immediately ready to berate you, to seeth his vengeance into you and destroy you from the inside out, but your voice came out in a tiny whisper.

“Just wanted to learn how to do it properly, Si,” you said, sniffling. Your eyes glistened and Simon couldn’t tell if it was from Johnny’s cock hitting the back of your throat or the fact you were caught in such a compromising position. “Just wanted to—“ you sobbed, lightly — “to make you feel good.”

And when you looked up at him with those puppy-dog eyes, he could almost excuse the fact that you’d been shoving his best friend’s dick down your throat for god knows how long. Or rather, that Johnny had coerced you into doing so, so eager and willing to let you – make you – guzzle his cum, filling you from the inside with thick ropes of semen.

How many times had Simon rested his hand on your stomach, unaware of the fact that remnants of another man lay just beneath his fingertips?

His blood boiled.

He knew Johnny must’ve had something to do with this. You’d never do anything of the sort without believing Simon would be okay with it, and Johnny’s silver tongue was nothing short of legend.

He wouldn’t – couldn’t – let Mactavish off the hook, either. The image of the Scot’s hand encompassing the back of your head, pressing you down further and further onto his member, the slick noises of your tongue working his girth with his head thrown back in stolen pleasure sparked a blaze in Simon’s chest that he would put to good use.

Simon sighed. Deeply. He decided to be lenient. Merciful.

He grabbed you by the hair and dragged you to sit between his legs as he took a chair, the object whining under two-hundred-and-odd pounds of skin, muscle and hate.

“Let’s see,” he said, gripping you tightly with one hand, watching you writhe at the pressure and pull on your scalp like a fish on a hook. With his other hand, he unzipped his pants, lifting his hips and yanking them down to his thighs. His half-hard cock leaked with pre, weeping.

You tried to plead with him, tried looking over to Johnny for help. The latter watched, just as terrified as you, having hastily stuffed himself back into his trousers, mirroring Simon’s growing condition.

“‘Nough talk.” Simon’s voice was gruff, unlike anything you’d ever heard. His eyes were blackened, too, entirely devoid of humanity.

“Let’s see how well Johnny’s trained you, hm? Put that whore mouth and all you’ve learnt to good use.”

You were willing to do anything to make him stop looking at you like that – like he loathed you – to rid his face of his furrowed brow and hard glare. You begged to please him, told him how you could take all of him — every inch — and how you were so ready to do so.

Simon listened. He raised you.

“Seein’ as y’so keen, I’ll strike you a deal. If y’can make me cum in the next sixty seconds, I won’t punish you.”

Your core tightened. 60 seconds?! That’s it?

Simon’s gaze found Johnny, still bolted in place by the periphery of the former’s wrath.

“But if y’don’t,” he pierced his once-friend with a look that could maim, torture and destroy. Johnny swallowed, held his gaze. “I’ll just have to show you and your teacher how it’s done.”

Neither you nor Johnny could talk, run or call for help after Simon had made ample example of you, both for the numb, raw ache in the back of your throat and the fact that Simon had you working his dick more often than there seemed hours in the day, forcing you down deeper and deeper onto his length, enjoying the sensation of you choking and gagging on his tip, the back of your throat tightening around him as tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving your skin itchy and red.

You could hardly move for the weight of Simon’s loads sitting heavy in your stomach, giving you a noticeable bump that neither Simon nor Johnny could take their eyes off. He never let you spit, even when you complained that your stomach hurt, churning and filled past full with the amount of cum swimming inside you. Swallowing every drop of his semen was mandatory for your redemption, he said.

Don’t worry, he made Johnny work, too. Whenever you’d been a good little whore for Simon, taking everything he gave you without complaint, he’d make Johnny give you the same treatment he’d coerced from you in the first place.

“Go on,” he’d say to the Scot, staring him down. “Since y’were so keen on makin’ (Y/N) do it, you’ve gotta return the favour.”

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