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sweet-as-an-angel · 6 months

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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

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criminalamnesia · 1 month

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Hiii!! I hope you're doing well :))

I just loveee the traitor series. Do you plan on making a part 5 or more?

thank you! here’s part five :)

the other parts can be found in my COD masterlist, which is here

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

I’ll proofread later :))

you stormed out of the gym, eyesight blurry from hot tears. you weren’t crying because you were sad— no. you were furious. furious at how simon was so fucking stubborn. at how he thought he was in the right.

droplets of blood marked your footsteps as you made your way back to the infirmary. you weren’t particularly anxious to be yelled at by the doctor, but getting it over with as soon as possible was ideal.

“bonnie, y’alrigh’?”

soap. you hadn’t even seen him, so lost in your thoughts. you blinked away tears and ignored the scot, continuing to make your way down the hall in silence.

the sound of hurried footsteps was unmistakable behind you. soap wasn’t taking silence for an answer, apparently.

“bonnie, please—” he began, the drawl of his voice catapulting your mind to the past. to better days.

days when soap had patched you up after a fight, his fingers nimble as he stitched up a cut in your thigh.

“s’it hurt?” he spoke, voice gravelly because of his hushed tone.

you shook your head. your head was tilted back, eyes staring up at the ceiling but not truly seeing. you were worried sick— you and soap were the only ones who’d made it to the safe house so far. the others should’ve beaten you there, and now they were over an hour late.

“bonnie, ‘m sure they’re alrigh’,” he told you, poking the needle through skin. you barely felt it, too hyped up on fear and adrenaline.

“they should’ve beaten us here, y’know that—” you began, but he tutted, quickly cutting you off.

“cannae think like tha’, bonnie. they’ll be here any second, aye?”

he stops his stitching, his face tilting up and away from your leg. you faintly register the feeling of his eyes on you.

you felt lost— floating in sea of numbness. your mind is mulling over the millions of possibilities— possibilities in which they never return.

you’d never felt this way before, and the five of you had endured far worse.

the only thing that was different this time was the fact that you and simon were together. you’d never explicitly told the rest of the task force, but they knew.

johnny knew why you were so worked up. he understood.

he reaches a hand up, his dirtied fingers lightly tilting your chin down so you’re face to face.

“y’there?” he asks, his hand dropping from your chin. he moves to squeeze one of your hands, pulling you back down to the ground.

you give a small nod, fingers moving to intertwine with his. he smiles— not his usual playful expression, but a true, grateful, relieved smile.

“im here,” you tell him. he releases your hand, pulling away from your skin, giving your hand a light pat before fully retreating.

“‘m almost finished, yeah? then I’ll go lookin’—”

“no need.”

it’s kyle, breathing heavily as he shuffles into the room. price and ghost are right on his heels, the three men making the room feel much smaller than it did a moment ago.

“you two good?” kyle asks, a small frown on his lips as he takes note of your bloodied leg.

you nod, your eyes flitting from gaz, to price, to simon— who is now moving towards you. he crouches down so he’s eye level with you. you meet his gaze, and although he doesn’t say it, you know what he’s thinking.

he’s relieved, and it’s a deeper relief than usual. it’s heavier, more profound, because he’s started to let you in. you’re more than teammates now, and it doesn’t truly hit ghost until this moment.

“im good,” you tell him quietly. he nods, glances down at where johnny is tying off your stitches.

johnny must notice ghost’s stare, because he breaks his focus and looks up at his lieutenant with a cheeky smirk.

“no worries, LT. made sure to do ma best work,” he grins and shoots the other man a wink, to which ghost grunts, unamused.

the heavy weight of a palm on your shoulder breaks you from the memory. you move without thinking, bloodied fist swinging as you whirl around to attack whoever laid a hand on you.

then you remember— soap.

johnny narrowly dodges your assault, his eyes widened as your fist barely clips him.

“steamin’ jesus!” he speaks, throwing his hands up in surrender and taking a step back from you.

“i was jus’ tryin’ to make sure ya were alrigh’! yer bleedin’, bonnie.”

you blink as you slowly escape your stupor. you’d completely lost yourself in the memory, and you didn’t know why.

probably because your brain was trying to comfort itself the only way it knew how— by seeking comfort from the people closest to you.

old habits, right?

old fucking habits.

“don’t touch me,” you seethe, eyes narrowing as you glare at the scot. he frowns, bites his lip, but doesn’t say anything.

like a kicked puppy. you can’t help but feel sympathetic before you wrestle that feeling back down. he wasn’t sympathetic for you— why should you be for him?

you look at him for a moment longer, taking in his appearance. he looks fine, and that angers you just the slightest bit more.

“look, i— i ken we really messed up, and sorry cannae fix tha’, but please, bonnie. a’least let us try—”

“I don’t owe you anything, mactavish.” you told him, gaze cold as you met his eyes. “and you’re right, sorry can’t fix it. nothing can fix it; so, stop trying.” you step forward, raising a hand as you point a finger into his chest.

“the four of you need to leave me the fuck alone. frankly, I couldn’t care less about how the four of you feel. about how he feels. you did what you did, believed what you believed, and now you have to live with that.”

johnny’s frown deepens as his eyes glance down at the finger you’ve got digging into his sternum.

“you deserve to feel like shit,” you tell him. “and anything you feel— how sorry you are— just know that I suffered a hundred times more in that chair, locked up in that room. so the next time you wanna watch me from outside the infirmary, or you wanna put your fucking hands on me,” your jaw is clenched, fire licking at your veins as you speak to him.

“remember what you did. remember that nothing can fix it. remember that you’re dead to me— all of you are— and that I never would’ve let that happen to any of you.”

“and I hope it hurts like hell, mactavish. I hope it eats you alive, and that you never find peace because you don’t deserve it.”

you drop your hand, your eyes still on his.

“and I hope you tell the rest of them I said that. especially him.”

you turn then, take a steadying breath, and keep walking.

soap watches you go without another word.

“that was stupid,” the doctor chastises you, her lips pressed into a thin line as she examines your knuckles.

“you blatantly went against my one rule for you. I shouldn’t have even let you out of bed, but you’re too damn stubborn! so I thought I’d give you some grace, but there you go— leaving my iv pole in the hall. bloodying your knuckles. I should let one of the newbies patch you up,” she grumbles, her gloved hands cool against your skin.

over the time you’d spent in the infirmary, you and the doctor had formed an odd bond. it was almost as if you were friends, but she always kept things strictly professional.

but you’d catch her giving you sad glances sometimes. you knew she was upset for you, angry for you, but she would never speak on it. that was okay with you.

it was enough to know that someone was on your side.

“sorry, doc. it’s not like it was planned,” you tell her, and her eyes flick up to meet yours. the look on your face told her everything she needed to know.

she didn’t push the topic. instead, she finished patching you up in silence. wrapping your knuckles in bandages, she gave them one last once-over before sending you on your way.

“kicking me out?” you asked her, raising your eyebrows.

she nodded, her eyes scanning the chart in her hands.

“if you’re okay enough to throw a punch, i think you’re okay enough to return to your quarters. unless you want to stay,” she says, and its unspoken, but you know what she’s implying.

unless you want to stay behind that door, guarded from the 141. unless you don’t want to go back to your quarters and see it as you’d left it before they’d tied you up.

unless it would be too painful to leave.

you shook your head. “im good. thank you, doc. really.”

the doctor gave a small smile and nodded. “of course. you’re due back in a week for a check up, alright? I need to check on those bruises and mending bones.”

you nod and give her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “wouldn’t miss it.”

she bids you goodbye before turning and disappearing behind a white curtain. you inhale deeply before heading for the door.

when you step into the hallway, it’s quiet. you pass through base with relative ease, quickly slipping past anyone you come across in the halls.

you don’t see any of the 141, and you’re grateful. you couldn’t handle another interaction with them today— and you didn’t know how much longer you could remain civil.

once you reached your door, you pushed into the dusty darkness of the room. it’d been a while since you’d been in here, and although you were glad to finally be free of the smell and sounds of the infirmary, you weren’t particularly happy to be back in this room.

this room, which was down the hall from the rest of the 141.

this room, which held memorabilia of your time with your team.

this room, which you swore still smelled like simon.

you grit your teeth, willing yourself to stop thinking about him. he was fucking everywhere, and you were starting to believe you’d never be free of him and the 141.

your memories. your pain. your scars. no matter how much you healed and moved on from what happened, it would always be there in the back of your mind. it would sneak up on you when you least expected it; it would haunt your dreams at night.

it would leave you waking up screaming for mercy.

it would keep you untrusting for the years to come.

you flicked on the light and scanned the room. it had been upended, clothes strewn across the floor and picture frames shattered.

in the midst of it all, a vase of long dead flowers sits atop your desk.

there’s a little note hanging off the vase. against your better judgement, you reach for it. the paper feels scratchy against your fingers, and the scribbled pencil inside seems the tiniest bit faded.

your eyes scan the note.

‘You were right.

Hope you can understand.’

— sr

you pick up the vase and throw it against the wall. glass shatters. dead flowers fall to the floor.

your knees give out and you crumple to the floor, sitting amidst reminders of once was.

you let yourself cry for the first time in a while.

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frogchiro · 5 months

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What’s gonna happen to hacker girl after no nut november?! 👀

I initially wanted to say she's walking out straight up pregnant but then it came to me- bold of us to presume that they'd last😭

While it totally is a dick fighting competition to them to prove who is better in...you don't even know at this point but you can see your men get more and more aggravated and fussy with every day into this challenge, you only bid your time before one of them breaks.

(Un)surprisingly the first one to break was always brash and loud Johnny :/ But he couldn't help himself! You were just so so pretty in that cute pastel sweater and skirt, bend over a desk and typing quickly away at some code you were writing but the only thing the Scottish man could focus on was your nice, shapely, broad hips and ass sticking out as if inviting him :(

Call him weak willed but...Who the fuck cares?? He's pent up, he's horny and his balls genuinely start to ache from a the build up sperm so the nest thing you know is you letting out a confused 'huh' and the feeling of a large, heavy body covering yours, two bulky arms wrapping around you and that low, growly voice snarling

"Yer way too tempting y'know that lass?"

Obviously the rest of the guys heard the commotion coming from your bedroom and they burst in on the exact moment of Soap holding you tightly against his side right after rolling off of you after his 3rd orgasm, his sperm dribbling out slow and thick out of your poor pussy :(

They were stunned at first but before they could start to yell and argue they saw Johnny's smug grin and your tired, sleepy face cuddled into his neck, letting out tiny mewls whike caressing your belly. They could call Soap a weak willed looser and a sucker but honestly? To him, they were the suckers bc he at least got to cum in their darling first😭💕

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #bless them😭#hackergirl!reader #barracks bunny!reader #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #philip graves x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #141 x reader #shadow company x reader

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months

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Hi, I just found your blog, and I love your Simon's fics! I was wondering if i could please request something where Reader and Simon had broken up bc he thought he put her in danger. After a few months, he comes to her after a mission and they spend the night but he leaves before she wakes up thinking hes doing whats best (and all that angsty jazz 🥲🤭) . A few weeks after she finds out shes pregnant and decides to take on her own, as reader thinks simon wouldnt care. But maybe one of the guys see her heavy preggo and tell simon, and hes fuming and super protective mode is on.

Sorry if it is too specific and for the terrible english. I just have this idea, and i dont think i can picture it right. Anyway, thanks for reading this and for your good work on your fics 💗 hope you have a lovely day

—Digging Gaze

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞

You knew it was the effects of a less-than-gentle breakup, but you should have at least cursed him out before you let him have his way with you on the living room couch. You’d woken up back in bed, alone, and had gotten dropped back to where you had been weeks earlier—stuck in the throws of confusion and hurt.

Simon had left you, and he never gave you a reason.

A part of you was heated; pissed off and feeling betrayed by the insult, yet, the rest of you knew that Simon needed to have his reasons—he always did. Even if you didn’t agree with them, and you knew he tended to look at life with a glass-half-empty type of glance.

So that left you here.

You were pregnant.

You’d found out two weeks after you’d slept together for that last time, your cheeks still hot from the memory and your fingers clutching the plastic of a test.

Pregnant.

It had been a shock, a deep panic. The both of you had been reckless. Stupid. And while you had stared at those two pink lines, you felt a sinking in your gut akin to a drowning ship. Should you tell him? It would be proper, of course.

But you don’t think you can face him again after you’d awaken to an empty bed—as if your entire relationship had only been about sex and not the deep nights of confessions and soft brushes of skin. You knew Simon Riley better than he probably knew himself.

And you wouldn’t put this on him.

At seven months, you couldn’t walk as much as you could before—and you would huff for breath as you went up the stairs to change the sheets—but who else could do it but you? Shopping also fell to you, and so, you pushed a large cart around and packed the metal basket with cravings and necessities. That was when you fell to a familiar face.

“Johnny?” You ask, blinking.

The Scot pauses, turning. His brows furrowed for a moment before a kind smile peeled his lips back.

“Hen!” He comes closer, laughing. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a good minute, then. What have you been up to in all—”

The man freezes at the sight of your stomach, jaw going slack as you fight an internal war with yourself to say pleasantries and leave.

“Hell,” Johnny clears his throat. “I guess you’ve been doin’ a great deal.”

You sigh, shaking your head softly. “Thanks, Johnny.”

“I’m just joking, Little Lady.” The man laughs and waves a hand. “Who’s the lucky man then? I’ll have to meet him one of these days.”

Your face blanks and your lips snap shut in an instant.

Blue eyes wait for an answer as the silence laps over itself. Slowly but surely, the realization dawns on his face in a tight pull of horror.

“You can’t tell him,” you interrupt his tight gasp. “Not a peep, MacTavish, you hear?”

“What the fuck,” he breathes at you, hand coming up to his mouth as he glances down at your swelling bump. “Holy hell.”

“Johnny,” you snap, his eyes jerk back to you.

“It’s bloody Ghost’s—”

“You can’t,” you growl, coming closer, “tell him.”

“What do you mean I can’t tell him,” Johnny hisses under his breath, looking at the people passing by and lowering his tone. “You’re pregnant and he doesn’t know!”

“That’s the point,” you ease out, exasperated and feeling drained already. Jesus, you needed to go lay down—your back was killing you. “Johnny,” you breathe, growing softer as you reach out a hand and put it to his arm. He grips it and holds on, looking incredibly concerned. “He doesn’t need to know, okay? That’s a lot of stress on him, and you know what he does for work. Even worrying about me was hard on him, what do you think a child would do?”

“You can’t think like that,” the Scot mutters. “He can help—what, you mean to tell me you plan to do this by yourself?” It isn’t malicious how he says it; Johnny’s worried about you. Incredibly. “Hen, no,” he shakes his head. “No, you can’t.”

“I can, Johnny,” you frown, dread filling your heart. “And I will.”

In the future, you really had to take into account Johnny’s flapping lips when under the spell of alcohol. Maybe you had enough faith in him to watch himself for the last little while of your pregnancy as he had into the latter half of the eighth month.

And then three firm knocks were at your door, and when you opened it, you were face to face with a painted balaclava and frazzled brown eyes.

Those eyes immediately snap down, and not even a word is uttered to your face until then.

The both of you are stone-still. Frozen. Dead to all else.

You swear it was hours of this—standing in the doorway with Simon’s fingers stiff in his pockets and his chest not even moving in a pulse or flare of his lungs. He doesn’t even blink.

“How far along?” His voice is monotone. A low drone in the ringing of your ears.

Damn that Scot.

“Eight and a half,” you say quietly.

Brown eyes shift up to yours. Simon stares, and you see his jaw clench under his balaclava, his shoulders moving. Again a long pause.

“When’s the next appointment—”

“It’s a girl.” You see his eyelids peel back and halt there, watching you. “In case you care to stick around and see her.”

Cruel perhaps, but it was nothing short of how he acted while leaving you.

Simon’s hidden face is slack, stuttering silently for a moment as the light fades outside.

“Didn’t…didn’t know,” he grunts out, blinking quickly.

“I know you didn’t,” you utter. “That was the point, Simon.”

“Johnny told me ‘bout it, didn’t believe him.” His brown eyes swirl, breaking. “Thought you’d mention it if you were.”

“You left,” you breathe. “Why would I reach out to someone that did that to me.”

“M’sorry, I-I don’t…” Simon clears his throat, looking away. His eyes are glossy, fingers moving out of his pockets so his twitching hands can splay out. “Could have explained, but I didn’t know how, Love. I’m not…this isn’t…”

Words fail him just like his ability to explain his emotions. Part of him was angry—angry that you’d gone all this time without reaching out when he could have helped.

A daughter.

But he was afraid, as well. Terrified. You were in the right and he knew it. Simon didn’t know the first thing about being a father…but then again, you didn’t know how to be a mother, either.

This was new territory.

“Marry me,” Simon pushes out with a quick force of breath.

“Wh—,” you choke on air. “What?”

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Gloved hands move at his sides, eyes honest but still shiny. “Wasn’t thinking—my fault and I can’t go on if I don’t know you’re safe.” He licks at the corner of his mouth. “...Both of you. Thought leaving would make the best sense, but I was…fucking hell. M’sorry.”

“Simon, there are many more ways other than marriage.” Your anger wasn’t something that could be washed away that easily, even if your heart fluttered at the idea and his apology.

You had more self-respect than that.

“Let me fix this,” he whispers, leaning closer.

Your hand rests over your stomach, staying there as the minutes draw. Simon waits, nervous and his fingers tap on his thigh. You know he’s afraid. You know he’s nervous about what he could bring home from work, even if those are only his paranoia talking in his ear like a demon.

You frown.

You huff.

And you open the door wider.

“The sheets need changing in my room. Get on it.”

The man says nothing before he enters the house and slips off his boots; disappearing into the linen closet.

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callsign-songbird · 2 months

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This was supposed to be a short rambling and ended up turning into a mini fic lol. I know the tense shifts, I know it's sloppy lol

Anyway, Simon has a sweetheart who gets kidnapped and gets to meet "Ghost" for the first time.

The first time you meet Ghost, it's supposed to be carefully planned and controlled. After all, Simon was so worried about opening that part of himself up to you. To you, he was Simon. Soft, introverted, sweet, desperately trying to break a cycle of generational trauma. You had never met Ghost.

But, of course, nothing in Simon's life can go according to plan, and when you have people that mean something to you, they become weaknesses. So, when you get kidnapped by a Russian military company with the intel that you were important to Task Force-141? Ghost has already burnt down the world once, you're sure as hell that he would do it again for his love. So, when you meet Ghost, it isn't carefully rehersed and planned like Simon wanted. No.

Instead, you're terrified, bound, and gagged on a cold concrete floor wearing little more than your skivvies as tears stream down your face. Then, out of the blue, gunfire and shouting rings through the halls. Stealth be damned, as soon as their cover is blown, you know that Ghost will fight like a rabbit animal. He barges into your cell, tackling a man against the wall with a knife to his throat and a gun at his head.

Those eyes that had looked at you so softly and tenderly were completely unrecognizable when they were this wide and intense, wild with bloodlust. "Where is the girl?" He spits out in fluent Russian before his eyes catch sight of you.

'BANG'

A single bullet through the soldiers' skull, splattering Ghost with even more viscera and gray matter. Ghost doesn't even seem phased as he holsters his pistol and pulls away, letting the body drop with a sickening thud. He walks brazenly up to you, but pauses as he notices the way you frantically back yourself into the corner, trying desperately to stay away from this monster who had surely come to drag you from one hell to the next.

Then, he crouches down and outstretches a gentle hand to you, letting you come to him. He called your name so sweetly, and that was a voice you recognized. You tried to muffle out his name through the rag shoved into your mouth and tied around your head. That earned a low chuckle, a dangerous one that you hadn't heard before. "Not quite, love. Ghost. Now, let's get you home, eh?"

Ghost. The name echoed in your mind, bouncing around as you tried to remember where you had heard it before. Your eyes flicked over to the corpse splayed in the doorway of your cell, making you nearly vomit in your mouth before looking away. Ghost shifted closer, using the knife still in his hand to cut through the rough ropes binding you. "Bloody hell... idiots didn't even use chains, could have escaped right easy, you could of." Ghost muttered, mostly to himself. The words were terrifying to hear.

He reached to untie your gag next, a chuckle rumbling lowly in his chest as you flinch away. He gives you half a second to compose yourself before he unceremoniously rips the gag off of you and tosses it to the side. Red marks are etched into your cheeks where the gag had dug in, and the sight makes Ghost seeth. "Oh, love..." His words are soft, but his tone is enraged, as if those marks alone could start his new crusade.

"LT!" Blue eyes and a neatly groomed Warhawk pop into the door, stepping casually over the corpse as the new face made his way over to you. "This her, LT?" A thick Scottish accent was present, along with a bit of thinly veiled appreciation. "Off limits Johnny, this is her. This is my girl."

Whenever Simon called you his, it was soft and reverent, as if astonished that he could call someone so precious his. But when Ghost said it? It was commanding, possessive, and left no room for argument. You were his. And that thought was almost scary.

Ghost wasted no more time, scooping you up into his arms and making their way quickly through the facility you had only caught glances of while Ghost and Johnny talked in some military jargon you didn't understand.

That's when you noticed it.

Even though Ghost was holding you so tight and close, even though his touches seemed so rough and careless, even though he was splattered with all sorts of blood and viscera, you had none of it on you. Ghost had been so careful with his touches, with how he held you, determined not to stain and taint your delicate skin with the fuel to his fire, the essence of his soul. And that was quite possibly when you realized that 'Simon' and 'Ghost' were merely two sides of the same coin. And they were both yours as much as you were theirs. his.

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meowpupp · 2 months

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TW//: hardest smut I've written (I think), cnc, gangbang, punishment, body writing, extreme degradation, overstim, anal, oral(m&f receiving), implied poly relationship, bad editing.

thinking abt captain price who brings his puppygirl to work. you've been naughty, a desperate mess for his cock. humping his boots, pawing at his cock, grinding your dripping cunt on whatever you can find. he's tired of it.

price ties you up, handcuffing you to the coffee table in his office. he strip's you down, leaving your soft body exposed to whoever walks in. he even turns the ac up, smirking the way your nipples pebble, thighs shaking as you whine.

and to make it worse, he writes on your body. filthy words that make you squirm and leak. 'slut', 'whore', 'breeding bitch', 'cocksleeve', 'fucktoy'. he even goes as far to write a bold 'BREED ME' adding an arrowing pointing directly to your pretty cunt.

he's so mean, ignoring your desperate little cries and pleas for mercy. even as johnny holds you down, shoving his cock deep down your throat, he ignores you. he has no qualms finishing his paperwork while the sargent stains your pretty face with cum.

he lets all his soldiers use you. ghost stuffs your little cunt. it practically feels like hes ripping your little body apart. hands spreading your thighs as wide as they'll go, pawing the fat there as he spits a large, fat, ball of saliva on your clit. he laughs as you twitch, slapping your tits as you cum around his thick cock.

even gaz doesn't spare you mercy. he adds to prices writing, for such a pretty man his mind is filth. 'cum dump', 'dumb slut', 'free use'. he crosses out the 'BREED ME', instead writing 'useless'.

uses the left over slick and cum from ghost, pushing into your tight, inexperienced ass. big hands hold you down as he kisses up your spine. he doesn't care if it 'hurts', or if he's 'too big.' there's an arrow pointing to your ass, clearly saying 'USE ME.' he's never disobeyed an order from price, why would he now?

it's even worse when all three take you at once. ghost and soap fighting for room in your cunt. the two men are impatient, shoving their cocks deep inside your poor, overstimulated, cunt even as you cry.

gaz is no help, wiping your tears away as he forces his load down your throat, holding you still until you swallow everydrop. he squeezes his dick through your throat, milking every drop.

it's only when you're all fucked out, every hole stuffed with cum, that price has mercy. he lays you out on his desk, hands still cuffed, and cleans out your pretty cunt. licking fat stripes to your clit, fingering all the cum shoved into your pretty, used, cunt.

"shhhh, sweetheart. I know. but you wanted this, remember? this is what happens to needy puppies like you. they get held down and fucked like the little toys they are."

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b1rds3ye · 9 months

Note

Can you make a fic / short headcanon of how the COD men reacts to reader riding those bull mechanical? Their usual bar/pub has installed a new attraction which is that bull mechanical. Either they dared reader or reader wanted to try to ride, depends on the character. You know how those bulls move makes the rider look like they’re grinding?? Yeah I wanna know how the guys reacts to that 👀

OHOHOHOHO GOT IT thank you for sending in the request!! This is the first one this blog has gotten 🥳🥳 I hope you enjoy~

Ride On

The local bar has installed a mechanical bull for an extra activity among the drunk and whimsical. One day off duty, you decide to give it a go and have some fun, and it seems the boys are enjoying it just as much as you.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, König

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except you're shorter than König)

Word Count: 2.5k (~500 each)

Genre: Fluff, Spice, established relationship

Warning: Spicy (but no smut), 18+/MDNI, awkward dialogue (it’s the cutest thing during flirty time fight me)

A/N: I don’t even write stuff that’s mildly spicy so I hope I did a decent job - also apparently mechanical bulls can do some real damage oh my god???

Captain John Price

On duty Price may be your direct superior but off duty you were more than free to do as you please even in his presence, he had always been clear about that. So he knew you were up to something when you sauntered up to him asking him for permission to go on the mechanical bull in the middle of the bar

He could only stare at your deceptively innocent smile for a moment before repeating the mantra that you could do what you want, his free hand automatically reaching into his pocket for a smoke as you strutted to the mechanical bull. You were going to be the death of him

He’s sure this is what emperors felt like in the days of old. Food, drinks, some very enticing entertainment and Price feels like he’s on cloud nine. Sitting by a table, he lounges back, thighs spread as he takes up the entire space of his seat and then some, feeling like a king as he watches you on the mechanical bull. He does not move, save for the occasional shift as his pants tighten

When you’re done riling him up, Price stays put as you approach him again. He can’t hide the incredible smugness he feels when the hungry eyes of strangers trail you, only to look at him in envy when they realise you’re already taken. He isn’t bothered by any of their stares, he can easily give any of them a piece of his mind

“You’ve got guts, love,” Price huffed out a puff of smoke. He remained seated by his table while you stood beside him, his face directly in line with your torso. His gaze travelled along every line and curve of your body that was so tantalisingly close, he could feel the body heat emanating from you. He stifled the urge to lick his drying lips.

“I did a good job though, right?” You beamed. He quirked an eyebrow at your sickeningly sweet voice. So you were going to keep up this charade, as if your face was only flushed from the physical exhaustion of remaining upright on the automaton and not from being so close but so painfully far away from him. Even in the darkness, he could see how your pupils swallowed your irises but he chose not to comment on it - he wasn’t faring any better.

“Passable. You’ve got two choices, sergeant.”

You swallowed, a shiver travelling down your spine as Price tilted his head down, idly extinguishing his cigar against the ashtray.

“Either you go back on the bull for some further training, give everyone here a sight for their sore, miserable eyes…”

Price regards you again, head up so that you could finally see his full face. Like a man lost for days in the desert, he gazed at you as if you were an oasis. Eyes lit up in awe, full of reverence, yet glazed over in carnal hunger.

“Or we leave this pub and you give me a private encore.”

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The instant he saw the new attraction he instinctively groaned under his breath. He already knew that you, Soap and Gaz will be provoking each other for some sort of competition. He’ll interfere if anyone seems uncomfortable but if it’s all smiles and laughs he’ll just quietly watch on with a mirth in his eyes reserved only for you and the task force (he will make a quip about you lot behaving like muppets though)

That being said, he already knows how suggestive a mechanical bull can look. When it’s decided that you’ll give it a go, Simon can only exhale slowly out of his mask, mentally preparing for an unexpected trial of restraint

He slinks back into the darkness of the bar, one with the shadows. His eyes shine like jewels as they reflect the treasure that is you. He drinks in the sight, committing it to memory. If from the bull you manage to see him in the gloom, his gaze is so intense it can single-handedly throw you off the automaton

Even off duty, he’s good at keeping his composure. When you return to him, you almost mistook him for being completely unfazed by your little stunt on the bull. But his voice is a little gruffer, the muscles in his throat straining with every syllable. He shows his neediness through his presence, you won’t be alone for the rest of the night as he accompanies you for even the smallest of errands

Rubbing your shoulder that was bruised from falling off of the bull, you beelined for the rest of the task force, only to get unexpectedly pulled towards the corners of the bar where the lights could not reach.

“Simon?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you feel his hand splayed across your spine. He was never big on public displays of affection, he was possessive in that all of his love will be seen by you only. Daring a move like this has you turning to him in concern, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“And that is?”

Simon doesn’t reply, not verbally. He takes your hips in his hands, you can tell he’s trying his best to be gentle but his fingertips dig ever so slightly into your skin. Guiding you back to stand just in front of him, you grunted as you felt a hefty weight against your backside. Now that is a big problem indeed.

“Need you,” he rasps, voice so thick with air they were barely discernible words. You allowed him to pull you further against him, a guttural groan escaping him. “Fuck, didn’t know you could ride like that.”

“I’m a soldier of many talents,” you replied. He huffs against his face mask, digging his face into the crook of your neck. “I suppose I could go again. Just, not on the bull.”

Simon’s lips curved into a smile that warped the mask against your skin. His hands on your hips tighten, you won’t be escaping him anytime soon.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

When Johnny’s eyes settled on the mechanical bull, he then took a brief glance at you and his mind went places. This absolute menace is conjuring up a million and one ways to get you on that bull ASAP (with your wholehearted consent, of course)

He’ll do anything, making a dare, teasing you, trying to make a bet, just so he can see you mount that thing. He’s a dedicated man, once he has a goal he’s seeing it through, no matter how many playful slaps and lighthearted glares you give him. He’ll even set an example and go first - he’ll be flattered as hell if he can get you out of all people riled up

Johnny thinks he can handle it, but he’s always overestimating himself when it comes to you. He can’t play off how you’re bothering him as your hips slide forward and back against the saddle. He can only clear his throat uncomfortably and choke out a fake laugh when the rest of the 141 comment on how quiet he’s become

He bit off more than he can chew, he thought he was the smooth one for being blessed with such a sight but he’s finding himself more bewitched by you by the second. When you get off the bull he gives you a feeble punch on the shoulder, trying to act like he’s alright but really he’s completely at your mercy, hovering around you near begging you to give him attention

You didn’t even have time to greet him as Johnny pulled you away from the rest of the task force, down into a quiet corridor of the pub. His silence was unnerving, you asked him if something was wrong but his only response was his lips against yours. When you reciprocated, the Johnny you knew was back with you, smiling into the kiss with an exhale of eagerness into your mouth as he traps you against the wall with his body. His weight against you, it was already hard to get a breath in as he claimed your lips again and again and again. But what truly made you gasp was the hardness that brushed against your thigh. It was initially so brief, you could credit it as a phantom of your own lust, but as Johnny got bolder, it rested permanently against your upper leg.

Now that he made his predicament clear, he reluctantly pulled away from you, just enough for him to speak. His heaving breaths burned against your skin, no more than his azure eyes that bored into yours.

“I got another thing you can ride, aye?”

You burst into laughter as you gave him a playful shove on the chest. It did nothing push him off of you, his smile widening at your countenance.

“Johnny, that was awful.”

“I ain’t lyin’. My li'l MacTavish needs some help.”

“I swear to god I’m leaving you.”

“You know you love me. Now are you gonna help me or no?”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle has a playful streak, when he sees you eyeing the new attraction he’ll approach you with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he slides some cash to you. “This twenty says you won’t last five seconds on that.”

And with that, a light-hearted competition started. Kyle’s intentions were genuinely innocent, he just wanted to have some fun beyond drinking the night away. After you gave the bull a go he was wholly planning to try after you to show you how it’s done - and possibly impress you with superior balancing powers

It started off fun as you laughed at the odd movements of the bull under you and Kyle smiled with you. He’s willing to give up that twenty as you were clearly having fun

What he did not expect was how as the mechanical bull became more erratic, bucking indiscriminately in all directions that the sight seemed more… suggestive. A yelp of surprise from you has him situating himself behind a table, ensuring no one can see the growing issue below his hips

He dares a look at the rest of the task force who are taking in the sight innocently. Soap is shouting encouragements like a battle cry, Price pulls a face that’s a mix of amused and impressed, Ghost offers a single dip of the head in respect and now Kyle feels dirty, guilt mixing with arousal into a sinful concoction that drips down his tightening pants

As you returned back to the task force, Kyle immediately came up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist, he sat his head on your shoulder, cheek against yours. With his entire body smothering yours, his whole being moved with every inhale and exhale of yours as you tried to recollect yourself after that exhausting ordeal of the mechanical bull.

“Getting touchy’s not going to make me forget about that twenty, Kyle,” you chided with a smile. You hear a little hmph as one of his hands dip into your pocket, resting over your hip bone. He slips the note in but his hand stays there, his thumb tracing over the wrinkles in your pants.

“You looked real nice up there, you know,” he mumbled into your ear before giving it a peck, arms tightening around you possessively.

“Feels like you enjoyed it,” you whispered, voice disappearing as you noticed something firm pressing against your ass. Your laugh came out far too weak. “Is that a pistol or are you happy to see me?”

He chuckled, husky and restrained, too distracted to reply. His hand in your pocket was becoming more animated, rubbing at your skin. Even through the fabric, you can feel how hot he is, only getting warmer as he gets more antsy, his free hand now tugging and teasing at your shirt.

Kyle spares a look at the rest of the task force, clearly distracted with their own drinking and antics.

“Do you think they’ll notice if we leave?”

“... No, let’s go.”

König

König will never ask you to go on the mechanical bull because he’d never go on it himself. Putting on a show for a whole lot of strangers in a pub? Potentially embarrassing himself in front of said strangers, his allies and you? The thought already fills him with dread and he is empathetic to never ask for such a thing from you. That being said, when it’s established you’re more than happy to give the bull a go, he’s not going to stop you

He knew how suggestive a mechanical bull can look but he figured he could handle it; he did not reach the rank of colonel by giving in to every temptation. But he should have known better when it came to you, your mere existence making him feel like he lost all composure and combat experience

Upon noticing the lustful stares of others, König doubles as a bodyguard. He slowly stalks around the bar, using his hulking figure to strategically block the view of you for others. He also takes note of anyone who seems a little too fixated on you, not hesitating to send a glare their way

Once you lose to the bull, he waits by the edge of the ring, taking your hand to escort you back to your friends. He does it both to be a caring partner for you, but also he’s preening as onlookers visibly deflate upon realising that if they want to get to you, they have to go through him

König’s hand was tight around yours, you could feel it occasionally twitch, aware of his own strength and trying to loosen his hold on you.

“Entschuldigung, mein Schatz,” he grumbled. “You wanted the night here, but I must leave.”

“Why?”

König turned his head away in embarrassment, but you noticed his eyes dipped lower for a split second. When you followed his gaze, you took a moment to pride yourself for getting your partner so riled up. It was only broken when he gently took your chin with his free hand, tilting it up - or just anywhere away from his growing predicament.

“It is embarrassing,” he muttered. “You were just having fun, but I am here… needing.”

“Not at all,” you smirked. “I wanted you to notice me.”

“I am always watching you, Schatz,” König whispered. He was getting bolder - or perhaps more desperate - with every word, the hand on your chin moving down to settle on one of your hips. You tilted your hips into his grip and the consequent breath he emitted was forceful and ragged. “I did not think such a machine could be so… crude.”

“But you liked the sight, right?” Your voice was smug as you pulled his face down to be in line with yours. You now had a perfect view of his eyes that were alight with lust, pupils blown so wide you could not distinguish if it was the gaze of a predator or prey.

“Zu viel.”

Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #task force 141 x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #könig x reader #könig x you #/*avery actually writes*/#/*avery checks the mailbox*/

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konigsblog · 4 months

Text

cw: recording

your two neighbours, soap and price, fighting for you.

of course, price is older and more mature. he has more experience in life, and can hold back his anger more. on the other hand, soap is more lively, you're more likely to have fun with johnny rather than john as he'll actually adventure out of his comfort zone, fuck you when he's mad and give you some experience with a rough, restless man.

price doesn't even view him as a man though; he's ‘too immature’. they're both rivals for your love, desperate to prove themselves to you in the hopes you'll choose them over the other.

while johnny has a view of your bedroom, watching the way you finger and fuck yourself down onto dildos, price has a view of your bathroom, watching soap run down your tits, covered in the foamy bubbles. they might even share these photos and videos of them perving on you with eachother, ignoring their rivalry just for more porn material.

soap makes an effort to come over to yours, have the occasional hookup and send you dick pics with the caption being about you. sometimes a video, with his grunting in the background, his hard cock twitching in his hand. but, price provides something johnny doesn't; aftercare. johnny fucks and leaves, while price takes his sweet time working you and watching you come undone on his fingers before easing inside. he's gentle, tender — it's lovemaking rather than a quick fuck... he hears you beg for an orgasm, for his cum, for his babies..

and when johnny gets sent the recording of this, he can't help but feel bitter and envious. grinding his teeth together and jerking off to the video, using it as material to jerk himself off. listening to the way you cry out ‘john’ over and over again, only making him hotter and even harder and the thought of being in price's position, fucking that pussy and being begged with. :3

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slvtforsimon · 3 months

Text

Breeding Kink

Synopsis - The guys and breeding kinks.

Warnings - NSFW.

Word Count - 1.9k.

[Caffeinate Me]

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY doesn’t realise he has a breeding kink until you make a joke about it. You’re play fighting, and losing, when you say “just hurry up and get me pregnant so I don’t have to do this anymore.” Simon’s eyes go wide and he feels his throat run dry. The thought of you being pregnant has never occurred to him before, but now you’ve mentioned it he cannot for the life of him stop thinking about it. After that comment, every time you have sex it’s unprotected. He’s ashamed of his newly found kink, but claims that it just ‘feels better’. One night, he’s bullying his fat cock into your tight cunt when the words just slip past his lips. “You gonna make me a daddy tonight, yeah baby?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it, almost pulling out of you because of the sheer embarrassment he feels. But you respond with “yes! Yes, anything for you!” This just drives Simon absolutely feral. He flips you over onto all fours, pounding into you relentlessly. It doesn’t take long before he’s shooting his cum deep inside of you, coating your walls with his creamy mixture and a loud shout of your name. You’re both laying in bed, breathing heavily as you come down from the orgasms when you turn to look at him. “Did you really mean what you said?” Simon just nods and it hits you. “Oh my God. You have an actual breeding kink!”

“So what if I do?” He mumbles, looking away from you out of embarrassment.

“Nothing, nothing,” you giggle lightly before adding, “but you want to make me a mummy.” Simon doesn’t fight you on this, after all it is what he wants. He just holds you close to him, kissing the top of your head as you fall asleep. He hopes that in a few months, there will be a baby Riley running around the house.

KÖNIG had never had a breeding kink until he met you. Now, he won’t shut up about it. Always brings it up whenever he can, and will always play on it during sex. “Going to fill up. Going to fill you up so good with my babies,” he’d growl in your ear as he pumps his cock into your tight hole. You can’t reply with words, you can just shriek and moan as he hits your cervix again and again, threatening to spill his seed straight into your womb without mercy. The thought of filling you to the brim with his cum and getting you pregnant turns him on so much. He’ll angle your hips just right so that he can be as deep inside you as possible.

“König!” You cry out, fisting the sheets below you. “I can’t take it! I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me,” it comes out as a command and it has you gushing around his cock in an instant. König’s large hands rest on your stomach and he closes his eyes, envisioning you swell with his child and that pushes him over the edge. He’s groaning praises of how good you feel in your ear as he fucks his cum into you, not bothering about the mess you’re making on the bedsheets. When you’ve milked him dry, his hips finally stop moving but he remains plugging you.

“Baby, you’re squishing me.”

“Gotta make sure it takes,” he whispers, kissing your cheek. There was no way he was moving off of you until morning if it meant there was a possibility of you getting pregnant.

JOHNNY ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH doesn’t even think about it until he sees you with a friend's baby. You look so good holding a baby and he can’t help but think you’d look even better growing one. One night he’s in between your thighs, eating you out like a man starved when he looks up at you through his lashes and moans into your pussy, “can you give me a baby?” You're taken back by his words, and need a moment to think about it but before you realise it, you’re nodding your head and your legs are trembling as your orgasm washes over you. “Does my girl have a breeding kink?” He asks with a smirk.

“You’re the one with the breeding kink,” you say breathlessly.

“Aye,” Johnny replies, kissing your thighs until they stop shaking. He leans up to press a kiss on your lips and with a raised eyebrow he asks, “so is that a yes or a no?”

“Fuck me and we’ll find out,” you reply teasingly, opening your legs wide for him. It’s not long before he’s fucking you into oblivion and making you beg for his cum inside of you. You’re not even embarrassed about it, instead you’re pathetically begging for him to spill his load deep inside your cunt. The second you mention being a mummy to his babies, he’s a goner. His hips are stuttering and his cock is twitching as he cums shamelessly. When he’s finished, he pulls out of you. “I love you Johnny.”

“I love ya too lass.”

JOHN PRICE is the OG when it comes to breeding kinks. This man is researching the best positions to get you pregnant before you even know it. Is constantly thinking about your swollen stomach, carrying his child that he just wants to make it a reality. One day you opted to babysit for your friend and when John walks in, he’s met with the most lovely sight. You’re sitting on the sofa, humming a lullaby to the infant in your arms with hopes of lulling them to sleep. John smiles and sits down next to you, placing a hand on your thigh and whispering, “good day?”

“Really good day,” you say with a grin. You fail to notice the straining erection against his trousers.

In less than an hour, your friend swings by to pick up her child and after a cup of tea, eventually leaves you and John alone in your home. That’s when John turns to you with a look of intense lust in his eyes. “Fuck, how badly do you wanna be a mummy?” He asks, stalking closer to you.

Your eyes widen slightly and you shyly reply, “really badly.” That’s all John needs to hear before he’s ripping your clothes off you, whispering in your ear that he’ll buy you new ones. He pushes you onto the sofa so that you’re on all fours, and frees his hard cock from its restraints. His tip is angrily red and already leaking so much pre-cum. You don’t even have time to joke about it before he slams himself inside of you, thrusting relentlessly into your poor little pussy. “You, ah, really want me to be a mum huh?” You manage to moan through each thrust, a slight little chuckle leaving your lips.

“You have no idea,” John growls. He lets you cum before he does, as in usual fashion. His fingers work magic against your throbbing clit and you’re spraying all over the sofa before you’re even able to vocalise it. “Now it’s my turn,” he whispers in your ear, speeding up his thrusts until you’re scared that he’s going to break the sofa. With a grunt, he spills his cum inside of you, babbling about how good you’ll look pregnant and that he can’t wait to have babies with you.

PHILLIP GRAVES is much like König in the fact that he doesn’t realise he has a breeding kink until he meets you. Your sex life with Phillip is relatively wild and one night, you’re sat talking about your kinks over a glass of wine. “What about you?” You ask, taking a sip of your wine before looking over at Phillip.

He clears his throat, thinking as to whether he should really tell you this. But before his brain even tells him it could potentially be a bad idea, he’s saying, “I wanna fill you up with cum until you get pregnant.”

You blink at him rapidly, processing the newly found kink information. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says sternly, narrowing his eyes at you. “I want to cum inside your pretty little pussy until you give me a pretty little baby.” Your mouth hangs open, but before you can say anything, Phillip is kissing you roughly while setting your wine glass down on the coffee table. He pulls you onto his lap, erect cock straining against his trousers as he thrusts his hips up against your clothed cunt. You let out a soft moan and allow Phillip to take off your clothes until you’re completely bare before him. “That sound good? Wanna give me a baby?” He coos, tilting his head to the side as he lines his cock up with your entrance.

“Yes,” you gasp out as he slams into you.

“Atta girl,” he grins, slamming into you relentlessly. Your back arches and you already feel the coil in your stomach snapping as his cock fills you up perfectly. You can’t help the moans that fall from your lips as he whispers the most obscene things to you. “Gonna fill you up right here and now baby, m’kay? Gonna make everyone know you’re mine with that baby in your belly.” At his words, you’re cumming around him and at the spasming of your cunt around his cock, Phillip cums too.

Your breathing is heavy as he pulls out of you, half-lidded eyes watching him gather some cum from your thighs and shoving it back inside of you. “I didn’t know you had a breeding kink,” you say breathlessly.

Phillip shrugged. “Neither did I, until I met you.”

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK is shy about his breeding kink and always keeps it a secret from you. You don’t find out until you’re actively trying for a baby. His cockhead slams into your cervix viciously as you cream around him, pathetically whining for more. “You’re gonna give me a baby aren’t you?” He asks as he continues to pound into you. You nod your head enthusiastically, biting at the skin on your bottom lip to stop a scream from escaping. “Fuck, I’m going to fill you up until you can’t take anymore. Gonna get a baby out of you one way or another.”

“Please!” You cry out, head lolling back against the strown about pillows. Kyle can’t help but cum as your cunt clenches around his fat cock, but he continues thrusting his hips to get as much as he can deep inside of you. Like König, he remains inside of you, desperate not to waste a single drop in fear that his effort was in vain. After a few seconds of breathless panting, you finally speak up. “I never knew you had a breeding kink.”

“Didn’t want to tell you before we were trying, just in case it spooked you,” he replied, kissing your cheek softly.

“You really wanna have a baby with me?” You ask softly as your fingertips trail patterns on his back.

“More than I need air to breathe,” he mumbles, burying his head into the crook of your neck and leaving wet kisses in his wake.

“Let me have a minute and we can go again,” you say with a grin. Kyle feels his cock harden inside you again at your words and within seconds he’s slowly thrusting into you again. Let’s just say, you both didn’t get much sleep that night.

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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months

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what would happen to innocent deer reader after being taken from the forest (literally got dragged out of her home) by Price and his boys to their base?

non-con, prey kink, monster fucking You're bounded like their newest catch, just a meal to be shared among cruel monsters. You shake and tremble in the tight ropes bounding your legs and arms - they didn't let you turn into your other form, knowing how fast scared deers can be, especially when as despaired as you are. You're certain they are going to eat you, eventually. Yes, their sergeant - Soap, you hear, which is funny because the man reeks of an unruly dog who needs to be put in his place - was panting and drooling all over your lower body, almost feral from the fertile smell that your body, no doubt, was leaking. You hate this part of your mind, of your body - the nature of a prey animal in the monster world makes you not fight for your life, but to present yourself, eyes wide open and legs spread for anyone to take. Your instincts tell you to freeze in place, to hope that they would just need a quick lay - that maybe if they both are satisfied enough, they would leave you alone. Or at least kill you mercifully. The captain is worse, somehow. When Soap started to lick on your leaking cunt and making you drool all over yourself, not even capable to wipe your face since your hands are gagged, bear hybrid only watched. Pushed a finger in your open mouth, checked your biting reflex - thank god you aren't a rabbit or a domestic cat. Thank god the only thing you know about the use of your teeth is that you have to hide them when Price pushes his dick past your lips, your throat bulging from the sheer girth.

You trash in their hold, gagging and choking - god, you feel too fucking hot, pressed tight between two monsters, using you like the prey you are. You hate it, you hate it, you hate it - you want to say so, just so they would stop, but your core is throbbing around Johnny's tongue and, eventually, his cock - forcing your lower lips to open as wide as your higher ones. You're sobbing by the time they are done with you, covered in sweat and tears. They coo at you, laughing at the little prey that stumbled across their territory - and you smile because you think that the nightmare is over, that they brought you to their base just so they could kill you, preferably as fast and painless as possible. You only notice others when sharp claws are tugging on your flesh of your ass, when shadows tendrils are swirling around your midriff, making you sob from the sudden cold. They brought you to their den not because they wanted to eat you - but because they wanted to share you. You don't know which is worse.

#cod #cod x reader #yandere cod #tw: monster fucking #john price x you #price x reader #john price #soap x reader #yandere soap #yandere x reader #monster!price #monster!soap

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nobodyinfart · 10 days

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Would they keep you as a secret from the crew?

For Johnny, I honestly doubt that man could keep it on the down low. I mean, he practically graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in Yapperism, like fr he’s the certified yapper of the force. Soap would praise you to the high heavens, saying stuff like “my baby is such’a good cook, lads. I miss their food already.” even if he just came back from deployment. You could be meeting them weeks later and Captain Price is like “Oh, how’s your new job going for you?”, leaving you completely bewildered that Johnny talks so much about you that the team is aware of what’s going on in your life.

Ghost will definitely keep your relationship on the quiet side at first, since he’s genuinely certain that it will not last with his emotional baggage. However, you prove him indefinitely wrong, loving him through thick and thin even in his darkest days. Despite him not having said anything specific to the team, his body language tells the team that there’s someone special lighting up his days. Maybe it is the curve of his masked mouth as he smiles at your messages, or the way Simon stares a little longer at beautiful sceneries that remind him of you. And the beaded bracelet he wears on his wrist is the dead giveaway all the team needs to confirm that you are there waiting for him to come home.

Now, Gaz is the one that I am not entirely sure about. Since he isn’t as open about his personal life as Johnny but not as secretive as Simon, he may not treat your relationship as a complete mystery. Somehow, it makes it sweeter if Gaz were to let it slip from a conversation with the boys yet act completely nonchalant as if it wasn’t a secret to begin with. “Didn’t take you for a flower kinda guy, mate.” Soap commented when he watched Kyle stop by a florist to get a bouquet on the way off their base area. “Wanted to get something to surprise the darling back home,” Kyle replied without a blink, as if he had not said anything out of the ordinary. Also the one to comment that the team didn’t ask when Soap shrieks out why he hadn’t mentioned a loved one.

As the Captain on the task force, Price is no doubt not the type to dish out that kind of personal information straight away. Rather, your existence is evident in the necklace that has your promise ring looped on his neck at all times (yes, even on missions). In private, John kisses the ring with your initial engraved on the inside of the band as if a sort of subconscious reminder of what he’s fighting so hard for. I do believe that Price would be more open to talking about you to old friends, so Laswell knows of you well and would definitely have your contact in the scenario that anything goes south. Even with his expertise, you still worry about your lover on the field.

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lovifie · 1 month

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Back Home

To my lovely anon 🙊.

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x SisterFriend!Reader

When Johnny finally comes back home, only to find his sister's best friend living in his house.

Soap got injured on the last mission. A bullet too close, well, not close, through. And not a bullet, a knife to the shoulder which left him in a sling. And now he needed almost absolute rest for a month until he was re-evaluated to see how it was healing.

It was Price's idea to go back home, it's been years since he saw his family and when Price mentioned it, guilt started to pool in his stomach.

So he took the first plane home and flew back. Reaching land in the middle of the night, he picked up a cab and went home. The humidity and coldness of his beloved Scotland made his shoulder hurt more; he couldn't wait to get home.

Once there, he picked up the key from under the mat that he so often told his mum to put away and entered the house. Making a beeline to his room, silent so as to not wake up anyone. And as soon as he took off his shoes, he threw himself into his bed. And the bed talked back.

“Bitch, I told you to go to your bed, I don't want a fucking sleepover.” A girl's voice erupted from under the cover, a hand pushing him off the bed. Well, he stood up, there is no way you would move him with just a hand while half asleep.

“Excuse me?” Soap asks, more offended than surprised he was pushed off his bed. The man's voice woke you up fast, whipping your head around at it and turning on the bedside lamp to see anything in the dark.

It only takes you a second to recognise your best friend’s brother, the mohawk recognisable everywhere. “Johnny?” You asked.

He asked your name back just as surprised. “What are you doing here?” He asks

“It's… it's a long story actually, I-I’ll go to your sister's room.” You say standing up, leaving his bed for him. “What happened to your shoulder?”

He peels his eyes away from you, suddenly remembering the one thing outside of his family that he always thought about.

His sister is just a couple of years younger than him, and they always went to the same school, and later on, high school. His sister and you met in kindergarten, and ever since you were joined by the hip. Monkey 1 and Monkey 2, his mother would joke about how she didn't know she birthed twins.

When the three of you were younger, you were just another annoying brat like his little sister. But once he reached puberty, he started to look at you differently. You were still an annoying brat, but he started to like the way you annoyed him.

Johnny loved to be in his room, but whenever he knew you were coming he would insist on being in the living room; even if it was just to catch a glimpse as you walked up to your sister's room.

The thing he hated the most about you? Your boyfriend. The fucking stupid boyfriend that couldn't see how amazing you were, the fucking stupid boyfriend that you cried about so much, the fucking stupid boyfriend that he would fight with so much.

The last thing he knew about him before he enlisted, was that he had proposed to you and that you had said yes.

But know, until just a moment ago, you were sleeping on his bed, with an old sweatshirt of his on. He was smiling to himself, the “long story” suddenly short when he connected the dots.

He wanted to tell you to stay and sleep with him. But he was exhausted and cold, and his shoulder only hurt more and more. And if you hit it on your sleep, he wouldn't forgive you, no matter how much you were the love of his life.

You were still looking at him, waiting for his answer. Even pointing at his shoulder so he would remember. “Oh.” He said looking at his shoulder. “It's classified.”

You rolled your eyes at his answer and started to walk out of the room; and just when you were almost out you turned to look at him.

“I'm glad you are back, Johnny.”

And in that moment, he knew he had a chance.

The next morning he woke up incredibly late in comparison with his usual time to wake up. But to the rest of the mortals, it was still early. In fact, only his mom was awake when he walked into the kitchen.

Giving her a warm hug that the both of them so desperately needed after being away for so long. With a cup of coffee in between, they talked on the kitchen table until his sister woke up as well and after you told her he was back she flew downstairs hugging his brother in a crushing hug.

You went downstairs too after stretching out and when you saw the image you remained at the doorway, not wanting to intrude on their reunion.

“Say hi to Johnny, you cunt.” Your best friend lovely said.

“I already did last night.” You say, before thinking of the double meaning. Johnny catches immediately, a mischievous grin on his face. He wishes you had welcomed him that way. “I thought it was you, crying about wanting to sleep together again.”

“Whatever, who came to my bed last night at the end?” She answers, smiling proudly.

You scoff at her. “Well, I'm sorry that I let the wounded soldier that came home after three years to sleep on HIS bed.” You say chuckling, you turn to him. “You are allowed to make arrests, right? According to your sister, seems this is my fate.”

You put your hands together, extending them before you for him to put handcuffs around your wrists. He'll put them soon, he still needs to choose if he wants to tie you to the bed or to him.

His sister slaps your arm, calling you dramatic, before working on making breakfast with your help. Something about the way you fit in just right with the people he loves the most, still wearing his sweatshirt truly warms him inside.

“So… how's Adam?” Johnny asks, he needs to know if the coast is clear. But the way both his mom and sister look at him the moment he talks makes it regretted. And the way the knife you were using falls from your hand on the counter, lets him know everything he needs.

“He's fine.” You answer quietly, and Johnny can almost see the walls building around you. Shit, shit, shit.

You wipe your hands on the tablecloth, turning around. “I think we are out of milk, I'll go buy some.” You say, walking out of the kitchen. Johnny is quick on his feet walking behind you. “I'll go with you.”

You look up to him as you tie your shoes, nodding without saying anything more. He puts his boots on as well, trying to tie the laces with just a hand. “Let me do it.” You say, no room to argue and you tie his boots quickly.

Once on the street, you walk next to each other. The shop is not far, but you walk slowly. Johnny knows you want to talk but he doesn't push it. Leaving you to choose the moment. “I actually don't know how he is doing.” You admit, looking at him. “Adam, I mean. I haven't heard from him since the wedding.”

“You got married?” Johnny asks, frankly surprised. He didn't get the invite.

“No. Thank god, I didn't.” You answer quickly, disgust clear on your face. “Almost, but I didn't.”

“What happened?”

“He cheated. With one of my bridesmaid, during the rehearsal dinner.” You laugh, but without a bit of humour on it. “I was talking with his mom about what we would name the first grandkid, and he was getting another girl pregnant in the bathroom.”

As you talk, your voice breaks, tears flooding your eyes as you cover your face.

“Hey, hey, c’mere.” He motions, hugging you with his nice arm. Good thing he wasn't invited, or else you'll know perfectly fine where the asshole was. Buried six feet under.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” You say, but still burying your face on his chest. “I should get over it, I know. It's been months now, but…”

“No apologies, bonnie. That's a perfectly acceptable reaction.” He says, cupping your face to look at your face. Fuck, are breathtakingly stunning when crying. “Fuck him, all right? You were always too good for him anyway.”

He knows he is exposing himself like this, and that it is obviously not fair to you. But his eyes land on your parted lips, and fuck does he wants to bite. Something must click inside your head, because you suddenly turn around, walking again and wiping the tears from your face.

“Yeah, you are right, Johnny. Fuck him.” You say, smiling at him but sadness is still in your eyes.

It isn't until a couple of days later that he doesn't get to talk to you alone again. He is lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone before going to sleep. A knock on his door disrupts him.

“C’mon in.” He says, looking at the door waiting to see who is it. Happiness floods his senses when he sees it's you.

“Are you busy?” You ask, only your head poking in. Soap quickly shakes his head, patting the bed next to him. You walk inside the room and sit cross-legged next to him. “Is it okay if I sleep here tonight? Your sister is beating me up on his sleep. At least I hope she's asleep.”

He simply peels the covers back, letting you get inside. He lets his phone on the bedside table, focusing only on you, and lays on his side, grateful the wounded shoulder in on the left side.

“How's your shoulder?” You ask, grabbing a finger from the hand resting on his chest.

“It's better, glad it's not my right one. I wouldn't be able to do anything.” He says

You smile at him, your hand moving to play with the name tags on his chest. “Do you know that Adam was deadly jealous of you?”

“What? He had you, what could I have to make him jealous?” He asks, not even realising his declaration of love.

“My attention.” You answer, looking at his face. “He always said that he didn't know why I was marrying him if it was clear I was in love with you.”

He looks at your face, catching you looking at his lips. “Were you?”

“Hm?”

“In love with me, were you?”

“To the bone.”

And that's all he needs before he's crushing his lips on yours. He hates he can't move his arm, needing to push you closer. But lucky for him, you do it yourself. Moving your arms around his neck, getting as close as you can.

He rolls, moving you along to lay on top of him, finally moving the arm he was propping himself on to pull you closer. Butterflies on his stomach going nuts at his lifelong crush kissing him, taking the breath from his lungs.

You straddle his hips, leaning down to keep kissing him as his hand finds its way to the back of your head. “I love you, bonnie. I have loved you for years.” He whispers against your lips, making you whimper.

“Show it to me, Johnny. Show me how much.” You whisper against his lips, moaning when he grinds his hips around your clothed cunt.

His hand pulls his sweatshirt off of you, you help him take it off, and it leaves you bare from hips up. He groans at the sight, his hand moving to your arse to push you forward so he can kiss your boob.

You sit at his chest, his hand getting under your pants and underwear, him grunting when he feels your wetness on his fingertips. You arch your back when his finger easily slips inside because of how slick your entrance is, him moaning around your chest; sucking and licking at your nipple making you moan.

“Johnny.” You moan, him shushing you quickly.

“I ken, bonnie. But I need to get this tight pussy ready, right? Make you feel good.” He moans when he feels your hand palm his crotch. “Fuck, press it harder, love.”

A second finger enters your cunt, stretching you as he scissors them. You pull his pants and underwear down, enough for his dick to spring free. You marvel your eyes on the thick, veiny, heavy piece of meat between his legs, wondering about the taste of the oozing precum from his tip; a sharp pain on your nipple pulling you away when Soap bites down.

“Don't even think about it, bonnie. Not today.” He says, his fingers pulling out of you and tugging the pants down. “Take them off, love. And lay on your side.”

You quickly do as he says, hating that you need to stand away from him to do it. You lay next to him, his eyes glued on your body. He grunts, managing to keep his arm under you, pulling you against him.

This one is officially his most hated injury up to date, needing to push you closer. He latches at your neck, tasting, sucking and biting your skin. Wanting more, needing more.

“You need a hand, Johnny?” You ask, heavy breathing when you feel his hard dick probe around your pussy but not being able to enter you without a hand around it.

Johnny chuckles in your ear. “Bonnie, I'll rip my arm off to do it if you don't help me right now.”

You laugh back at him, lowering a hand between your legs parting them and fisting his dick making him moan as you align it with your entrance.

Your laugh turns into a moan when he slowly starts to sink in. When he finally bottoms out, he stays still for a minute, hugging you, pulling you close. You turn your head back and kiss him deeply, he starts to move his hips, catching with his mouth every moan that slips from yours.

It is such a chaotic situation, one of his arms is trapped inside of the sling, the other is trapped under your body, he is still wearing all his clothes, and you are having sex on his childhood bedroom with his mom and sister just on the other side of the hall.

Still, it's the best sex of your life. His dick is stretching you as no other dick has ever, he is reaching places inside of you that have never been touched before and that now will need to be touched forever, he keeps kissing you like you were an oxygen tank in the depths of the ocean and you wish you would stay like this forever.

But with the way his hips are thrusting into you and the hand under your body finds its way to your clit, you know there is not much left.

“I love you, bonnie. I fucking love you so much.” He says between moans. “I'm gonna marry you and I'm gonna love you forever. Gonna make a family with you, bonnie. I love you, I can't wait to fucking marry you. Marry me, please, bonnie.”

“Yes, fuck” you moan back, nails sinking into the skin of his ass when you grab him urging him to fuck you harder.

Johnny thinks is the longest couple of minutes until you finally cum, wanting to hold on just to feel you clench around him; milking him dry when you do with his name in your mouth.

The two of you stay panting, still in each other embrace. Johnny's dick still softening inside of you with no urge to get it out.

“Did you mean it?” You ask him.

“Did you?” He asks back, suddenly too aware of what he just said.

“I meant it if you did.” You say childishly, turning your head around.

“I did.” He says, looking at your eyes. “We should probably date before getting married, right?”

“Maybe not.” You say, still looking at his eyes.

You stay looking at each other eyes, looking for any kind of doubt in them. You speak first; “The courthouse opens at 9.”

“We can have breakfast after.” He says, as if that's the correct answer.

“I'd love to have breakfast with you tomorrow, Johnny.” You answer, because to you it is the right answer.

Hii, lovies!! 💗

Let me know if you liked it and if you'll like to write any of the other options of the ask 💗

Oh, and also, there is BIG little something starting today hehe so stay tunned my beloved ❤️❤️❤️

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