#task 141 fan fic

[boowritess]

Y/n and Gaz teach Soap how to dance:

Ghost walks into the room, looking in confusion to see Gaz in front of Soap holding just below his waist, and Y/n behind Soap holding onto his hips, an upbeat song playing.

While Gaz and Y/n were moving in sync with the song, Soap...was not.

Gaz: Move your hips!

Soap: I am!

Y/n: Why're your hips so stiff!? Relax!

Soap: I'm trying!

Alejandro, standing of the side: hermano, bend your knees!

Price, who had been sitting on the couch, looking annoyed: they've been at this for 2 hours.

Rodolfo, sitting next to Price a big smile on his face: he has not improved!

#call of duty modern warfare #task 141 x reader #task 141 scenario #task 141 fan fic #fanfic #cod mwii imagines #cod mwii #cod mw22 #mwii #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #captain price #alejandro vergaras #rodolfo parra #alejandro #rodolfo #simon ghost riley #call of duty mw2 #soap #gaz #price #ghost #my post #yeah ig soap can't dance #but i feel like he has potential #maybe ghost can teach him ;))

[daisies-daydreams]

task force 141 + konig where they gangbang y/n (they corner them in the lockerroom/barracks-- y/n accidentally goes into the wrong room, or is it really the wrong room??) OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT and they each take their turn :DD AAAA im so sorry if its difficult i just really love ur writing :") please take ur time and if u ever do consider this THANK U :")

Pairing: 141 + König x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Consensual Gangbanging, Multiple (and I mean multiple) Orgasms, Clit Play, Oral Sex (69), Penis in Vagina Sex, Thigh Fucking, Anal Sex, Spanking, Vaginal/Anal Fingering, Reader is Going to be Sore 💀 Word Count: 4.1k+

Author’s Note: Hi there! Thank you very much for your request. There were so many different scenarios but I was able to eventually dwindle it down to Y/N walking into the wrong locker room (whoopsie daisy). Also, König is included in the fic, I just couldn’t find a picture with all of them. I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You yawned as you stretched your arms above your head. The sound of the water spraying from the showers was music to your ears-your body worn and grimy from the recent mission. You pushed open the door and padded inside, your steps heavy with exhaustion. All you had on your mind was taking a quick shower and slipping beneath your covers. Billows of steam rushed towards you as you opened the double doors. You headed towards your locker and paid no mind to the other bodies wandering about the room. You furrowed your brows when the combination didn’t work. You frowned as you tried again. Nothing. You flinched when a distinctly male voice cleared his throat behind you.

“Think you’re in the wrong room, lovie”.

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned around. Your blood ran cold. Your lieutenant, Ghost, was standing in front of you with crossed arms, his bulging muscles still dripping with hot water. You blushed when you realized he wasn’t wearing his mask. His face was rugged and littered with scars, an obvious sign of him living through years of combat. Your heart began to race as he took one step closer. You couldn’t tear your eyes away when they wandered down to see his girthy cock hanging between his legs. You bit your lip when you caught a glimpse of it twitching to life. Ghost was only a few feet in front of you as his arms fell to his sides.

“What’re you doin’ in ‘ere, hm, Sergeant?” he mused with a raised brow. His shadow swallowed you whole as you tried to look away. You swallowed a lump in your throat, gripping the towel you held in your arms.

“I-I’m sorry. It was an accident-truly,” you stammered as you felt heat rise to your cheeks. Your eyes flicked around the room to look anywhere but at him, only to lock eyes with the other men. Your knees felt weak as they all stood there staring at you and your flimsy cover-up. You felt your breath punched out of your lungs when you realized they were just as stark naked as Ghost. Your lips parted as your mind began to buzz with a whirlwind of emotions.

You were embarrassed beyond belief…and yet, you couldn’t help but feel the intoxication of pure lust coursing through you. Your blood ran cold when you saw your very own Captain in the same room: his stormy, sea green eyes piercing into you as he gave a wry grin. You felt dizzy as you tried to brace yourself against the lockers, clenching your legs together. Ghost chuckled as he slid his hand beneath your chin, tilting it up so you could meet his gaze.

“You sure it was an accident? Cause the way you're shifting your cute little thighs together tells me otherwise,” he muttered, his hot breath fanning over your neck. A small moan left your lips as his lips raked across your skin. He looked back up at you, his mahogany eyes dripping with pure desire. “Tell us what you want, love,” Ghost murmured, his hands falling to delicately brush over your hips.

Us?

Your eyes were as wide as saucers as you looked around the room. All of the 141's cock’s seemed to twitch and throb to life. Your mouth nearly snapped open when you saw a towering man, who you assumed to be König, pawing at his massive length. Was this really happening? You whined when Ghost peppered your neck with open mouth kisses. A rush of heat struck through your core as he suckled over your pulse, then licked across the blooming hickey. You swallowed thickly before parting your lips.

“I-I want you…all of you,” you squealed when Ghost suckled another hickey onto your neck. He parted from your neck and nipped at the shell of your ear. Your body trembled at the prospect of having every one of your holes stretched and pumped full of cum while you jerked two other men off with your smaller hands. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as Ghost sank his teeth into your neck. You gasped as he flattened his tongue over the throbbing bite mark.

“Gonna take our sweet time with you-right lads?” he rumbled before kissing up your jaw. You heard the men grunt in agreement, their voices falling onto your ears like a melody. You felt lost in your own emotions as they tumbled and crashed together. You squeezed your legs even tighter as Ghost pulled his head up and gave you a soft smile. Your heart cracked at the sight-you were so used to seeing his macabre visage that his expressions seemed lost to you.

“Can’t wait to see how good that pussy feels,” he said before stealing a slow, tender kiss from your lips. The distinguished sound of a door locking felt numb to your ears as the taste of your lieutenant flooded your mouth. It was slightly minty with a hint of tobacco, the flavors blending together as both of you slung your tongues together. You sighed into the kiss as his hands worked to peel your towel off of your trembling body. You felt goosebumps bloom across your body as the fabric fell to the floor.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” Ghost breathed, admiring your body. You blushed furiously before he dove back in, his hands gently massaging your hips. Your eyes shot open when another rugged body came up behind you and sandwiched you together. You turned to see Soap beaming at you with his usual, cheeky grin.

“Mind if I have the first go?” he whispered as he licked your jawline. You keened at the feeling of his hot member twitching against your ass.

“P-Please,” you sighed while nodding your head. Ghost remained still for a moment, though decided to step back, admiring the view before him as he gripped his own girthy cock. A deep rumble rose from Soap’s chest as his hands slowly came up your sides. You gasped as they landed on your breasts.

“So fuckin’ soft,” he murmured. You felt arousal start to leak between your legs as he slowly tweaked your sensitive nipples between his rough fingers. You arched your back, pushing your butt further into his hips. The movement caused his dick to slip between your thighs, his head just barely poking out from the front of them.

“Please, Johnny,” you mewled. Soap moaned at the sound of his real name as his hands spread over your tits. You went to spread your legs. A whimper left you as you felt him harshly squeeze your breasts.

“Keep your legs together,” Soap ordered with a husky growl. You nodded before throwing your head back, letting it fall on his sturdy shoulder. Soap pressed kisses up your neck as he began to slowly push and pull his cock between your thighs. He groaned as your cunt coated his thick length with your juices.

“Mm, that’s it,” the man groaned as he kneaded your breasts. Your mind became more fuzzy as he added another bite mark to your shoulder. “That’s my good lass,” he lilted. You felt your walls clench as the head of his cock continuously breached through your slick folds. Soap grunted as his thumbs flicked your hard nipples, his hot mouth enveloped over your shoulder in a wet kiss.

“Christ, Soap-hurry up,” Gaz whined. You gazed up at the man with half-lidded eyes. Gaz stared at you with a similar expression, his nostrils flaring as he squeezed his leaking dick in his hand. Your eyes squeezed shut when Soap’s hand fell down and began to rub meticulous circles around your swollen nub.

“Ah, don’t stop,” you whined. Your knees buckled when you felt Soap pinch your clit. He wrapped his arm around your torso, pressing your back flush against his broad chest. You felt like you were being rocked by an ocean of bliss as he started to buck into you at a hungry pace.

“‘M not gonna stop-not when you feel this fuckin’ good,” Soap groaned. The sound of your slick movements stoked the fire growing in the pit of your belly. You mewled as Soap drew faster circles around your clit. “C’mon-cum with me, bonnie,” he moaned with a sharp snap of his hips. You gasped as the cord inside of you snapped violently. You arched your back as a white-hot wave of ecstasy washed over you.

The feeling of Soap’s cock twitching beneath you only prolonged your blissful contractions. He coated your thighs with rope after rope of his cum, the warmth dribbling down to your knees as you writhed in pleasure. Soap kissed your cheek as his cock began to soften between your legs. You panted as your high dissipated.

“Look so cute when you cum over my cock, hen,” Soap praised as he still held you close. He kissed your temple before slowly backing away from you, his hands protectively placed on your hips. You stared into his deep blue eyes before you felt a new pair of warm hands . You gazed behind you, meeting a pair of chocolate brown eyes.

“‘Scuse me, love,” Gaz gave a wry grin as he laid himself down on the hard surface. You mirrored his expression as you sat on top of him, angling yourself to take his cock. He clicked his tongue.

“Not quite what I had in mind,” Gaz said as he grabbed your hips. You gasped as he spun you around, your dripping cunt hovering just above his mouth. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of his thick cock twitching right in front of your face. Your breath stuttered as you heard Gaz smack his lips, his hot breath cascaded over your folds.

“H-Holy shit,” you whispered. Your hands flew up to brace Gaz’s thighs as he slipped his mouth over your cunt. You moaned, a jolt of electricity shooting through your core. You took several deep breaths as he moved his tongue back and forth, writing out his name across your slit. You took a few deep breaths before slowly sinking your mouth around his shaft.

Gaz groaned as he swiped at your folds while you bobbed your head up and down his length. He was thicker than you imagined-his girth stretching out your jaw more than any other man you’ve been with. The taste of his salty-bitter precum danced over your tongue as you swirled your wet muscle around his head each time you came back up.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” he murmured into your pussy before taking your clit between his lips. Your hands clenched around his thighs as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub.

“Gaz, fuck,” you whined, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock. The sergeant chuckled before thrusting his tongue inside of your quivering hole. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose before angling your head to take him in deeper, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

Both of you moaned and panted as you ate each other like starved wolves. The vibrations from Gaz’s voice sent ripples of arousal straight into your core. You released a breathy sigh around his dick as he slipped his tongue out and slid one of his digits inside of you. You shifted your hips over Gaz’s face as he stroked you tenderly, his finger reaching and caressing your g-spot. You heard him emit a low growl as his cock twitched inside of your wet cavern.

You moaned his name as he gave a harsh suck to your clit, your second high tearing you in half. Your whole body grew tense as his cock was lodged deep in your throat. You gasped as you felt something warm spill into your mouth, his cum draining down your esophagus. His brows furrowed as your walls clenched around his finger, sucking him in eagerly.

As your high began to fade, you slowly pulled your lips off of his length. You made sure to keep your lips tightly wound together, carefully holding his seed inside your mouth. He smoothed his hands over your hips, raising them before he gasped out for air. It made you wonder if he wanted to suffocate as he devoured your cunt. The thought made a small shiver course through you.

“Fuck me, (Y/N). That was incredible,” Gaz gasped between heavy breaths. You smiled sheepishly before turning so he could see your slightly swollen cheeks. His lips parted as you audibly swallowed his cum. You grinned as you stuck out your tongue. No trace of white was left. “Bloody hell,” he shuddered.

You smiled as the man guided you to rest on his chest. You closed your eyes and caught your breath, the afterglow of your orgasm warming you from head to toe. Just as you felt your heart rate steady, a shadow crossed over you. You cracked an eye open to see your Captain looming above you, his thick hand pumping at his red-hot length.

“Believe I should’ve gone first-bein’ your Captain and all,” Price muttered. Gaz huffed as he helped you off of him, guiding you to sit up while he slid off the bench. You gazed up at Price with the biggest doe-eyes you could pull, though it seemed futile when you were shoved onto your stomach. You winced as his calloused hands kneaded at the flesh of your hips. You turned your head slightly to see your Captain leaning on the bench with one knee, his other leg balancing himself on the tiled floor. He raised a thick brow as he continued to jerk himself off.

“Think you should be disciplined, Sergeant. You’ve walked into the men’s locker room like a naughty girl,” Price grunted. You cried out as he laid a smack against your ass. He groaned as he watched it jiggle, a red mark staining your bum. You felt your heart race when he grabbed your asscheeks in his hands, spreading them apart.

The man shoved two of his fingers into his mouth before releasing them with a wet “pop”. You moaned as he circled your puckering asshole with his digits. Your hands flew in front of you to grab the edges of the bench as he moved to massage your ass with one hand, the other slowly dipping into your hole.

“Say it-say what a naughty girl you’ve been,” Price commanded as he pumped his fingers into you. You gurgled incoherently, your mind intoxicated from two mind-shattering orgasms and the feeling of him stretching your hole wide open. You lunged forward as he smacked your bum again, this time leaving another red mark.

“I-I’m a naughty girl,” you keened, shaking your ass as he thrusted his digits inside with a sudden squelch. “A-And I need to be disciplined,” you batted your lashes. Price growled before curling his fingers inside of you.

“Damn right, you do,” he huffed with a small smirk. You jolted forward as he suddenly shoved his length into your asshole, molding your insides the shape of his cock. Your mouth snapped into a tight “o” as you felt yourself being stretched out by your Captain, inch by delicious inch.

“So fuckin’ tight-Christ,” he grunted as his hips became flush with your raw ass. You moaned at the tightness before he slid himself out, leaving his head inside. Your fingers curled around the bench as he pistoned into you, his hands bruisingly gripping your waist. “Love how your hole stretches around me,” Price rumbled. You felt tears prick at your eyes, the sensations overwhelming you from head to toe. You yelped as he laid another slap to your ass.

“Fuck-I want to see you, love-but this arse just feels too fuckin’ good,” he hissed between gritted teeth. You arched your back as he grabbed your hair, pulling on it while he shoved a few fingers into your mouth. You instinctively suckled on them, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. You jolted when his other hand laid a sudden smack to your cunt, your slick spraying across his hand.

“I’m so close,” he grunted. Your head rolled to the side as your third orgasm washed over you, sending a shockwave through your core. Price growled as he slammed his hips into you. Your entire body lit on fire as he filled up your insides. It was an entirely new sensation-though it was one you could certainly get used to. He patted your thighs before slipping off of you, his rough palms lingering on your waist. Your limbs felt like they were full of lead as you tried to stand up, only to remain prone on the bench.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Price-I think you broke her,” Soap gaped. You blinked lazily before being pulled into two strong arms. You looked up to see an unfamiliar face above you. You gave a small smile as you recognized the pair of icy blue eyes that gazed down at you softly. The tip of a water bottle was pressed to your lips and you greedily slurped up the cold liquid.

“Ah, the little Maus just needed a break,” König cooed. You tapped his wrist, letting him know you were done with your drink. You smacked your lips when he pulled it away from you. You sighed and nuzzled your face into his rugged stomach as he gently rocked you in his arms, your naked body resting on his sturdy lap. His hand caressed your red cheek as he leaned down, kissing your forehead.

“Do you think you can handle any more, Schatz?” the Austrian murmured. You stared at him, eyes half-lidded and body shaking with overstimulation.

“Y-Yes,” you rasped out. König’s brows knitted together.

“If you’re feeling too tired, we don’t have-” He gasped when you straddled his hips, legs clumsily wrapping around his back. He moaned as you kissed him deeply, your pussy lips gliding over his massive length.

“I want to,” you said resolutely. König beamed before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Turn around for me then, Kätzchen,” he commanded gently with a pat on your waist. You smiled as you spun around, making sure to rake your ass against his abs. You could feel the rumble in his chest as you spread your limp legs over his. He muttered sweet phrases in German as he slipped his hand down towards your heat. You shivered against him as he spread your labia apart with his thick fingers. Your cunt was a mess of slick and cum that dribbled down from your asshole. He groaned as he felt around your puffy folds and swollen clit.

“Gonna take it nice and slow, ja?” König soothed. You nodded and relaxed as he slipped a finger into your hole. You gasped at how just one finger filled you up, your walls mush around the ridges of his digit. König grunted as he began to slowly pump his finger inside of you, his other hand massaging your bundle of nerves. You moaned as he played with your pussy, his movements calm and gentle. You gasped when the pad of his finger brushed against your g-spot. “Are you alright, Kätzchen?” he asked. You nodded, curling your hands around his wrists.

“Yes-you feel so good, Kö. Making me feel so good,” you praised. König grinned before he added another finger into your cunt, stretching you out wonderfully. His movements grew a bit faster as his thumb flicked and stroked at your clit. You gasped when his fingers were replaced with his cock. Your eyes nearly crossed as you felt his immensely thick shaft split you down the middle.

“Meine,” was all he could rasp out before he gently bucked into your heat. You moaned when you saw his head bulge beneath your stomach. You could feel your body melting in his touch. He continued to swirl his finger around your nub as he bounced you on his cock, his voice cracking with every moan and pant that left him. Despite his gargantuan size, he was handling you like you were made of porcelain. Your eyes glazed over as you felt yourself tense again. König whined as your walls constricted around him.

“König-I’m gonna cum,” you mewled. He rumbled before pistoning his hips up into your heat.

“Fuck-me too,” he gasped out. Both of you moaned at the same time as your walls contracted around him. He stilled inside you, your cunt milking his cock dry. You whined as you felt his cum gush out of your pussy, flooding his lap. The rush of liquid never seemed to end as he slowly pulled you off his length. He peppered your face with soft kisses before giving you another sip of water.

“You did so well for me, meine Schatz,” he praised while stroking your cheek with his thumb. You smiled at him sleepily before he receded back. You glanced above you to find Ghost standing tensely, his cock cherry red and ready to burst. He grabbed a towel lying on the floor and helped you up. You sighed as you were laid back down on the soft fabric, his palms stroking over your shaking legs.

“How you feelin’, lovie?” Ghost asked softly. You felt your voice die in your throat as he gazed at you with his gentle, brown eyes. Eyes you’ve seen full of a quiet rage countless times in combat.

“I think…I can do one more,” you puffed out. Ghost hummed as he adjusted his hips.

“Atta girl,” he praised. You smiled up at him as he slid his cock inside, pushing some of König’s cum out of your hole. You melted as he thrusted into you, gently massaging your tender breasts. “Been wantin’ you for so long-fuck-you feel better than I could ever imagine,” Ghost grunted. You bit your lip, taking in slow, deep breaths as he bottomed out inside of you.

Your limbs felt like putty in his hands as he raised one of your legs to fall over his shoulder. Both of you locked eyes and you nodded. He exhaled through his nose as he pumped his cock through your plush walls. You could feel your mind starting to grow fuzzy as he rocked his hips into you.

“Simon,” you murmured. Ghost’s hips stuttered as his name softly fell from your swollen lips. His movements became a little more hungry, his balls slapping against your cum-coated ass as he snapped his hips.

“So perfect f’me,” he groaned. You barely had time to brace yourself before your fifth orgasm shook you to your core, electricity trickling down to your fingers and toes.

“Christ, how many is that? Five?” he groaned. You nodded your head, letting your eyes close as you were rocked by his strong thrusts. Ghost rumbled as he crashed his lips onto yours. The sound of your sloppy, cum-filled cunt fluttering around his dick made your mind completely melt. “You’ve taken all so well, love,” Ghost praised as he bullied his cock into your hole. Your brows knitted together as he kissed you again.

“Gonna fill this pussy up, stuff you with my cum,” he moaned as his balls twitched against your folds. “You’d like that, love?” Ghost huffed. You nodded.

“Please, please fucking fill me,” you gasped. He chuckled as he sped up his thrusts, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing throughout the tiled space. You moaned and raked your nails down his shoulders as he slammed his cock into you, stilling inside and shooting his load into your tight hole. Your jaw went slack as you felt your pussy warm, only to feel exhaustion wash over you once more.

“(Y/N)? Are you with me?” Ghost’s muffled voice called. You only managed to make a small mumbling noise before sleep finally overtook you.

+++

You gasped as you shot up beneath a cozy comforter. You looked down, seeing you were wearing a fresh pair of clothes. Your hair was still wet and smelled of shampoo. Your eyes scanned the dark room. You finally recognized that you were back in your quarters when your vision adjusted. You puffed out a breath of air as you sank your head down onto your pillow.

Was all of that just a dream?

Your face turned a deep shade of red at the many lewd acts that transpired. You yawned before shifting in your bed, gasping when you felt a dull ache blooming in all of your holes.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

#call of duty #cod #cod smut #call of duty modern warfare 2 #smut #ghost cod #soap cod #gaz cod #price cod #könig cod #cod x y/n #cod x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x you #soap x reader #john price x y/n #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick #könig x y/n #könig x reader #könig x you #call of duty smut

[ceruleanchillin]

141 x Reader: Biker!AU

Note(s) -

1.) Nobody asked for this, but here I am combining two obsessions. Congrats, you’re a biker’s old lady now 🎉.

Any media with hot guys in a group should have outlaw MC AUs

2.) I love roughneck Simon. Please give me more of him. I wanna talk about the guys in this AU so badly, don’t (DO) feed my inbox. BlueCollar!Simon, Mafia!Simon, Mechanic!Simon, Idc I love it all. 

3.) If you saw this before, no you didn’t (plus I added more to it). I decided to keep them all together, and it’ll just be long as hell. A long fic stored under a cut never hurt nobody.🤷🏾‍♀️

Simon

Nobody can get him as soft as you. There’s a 3-ringed barrier around his heart. Outsiders < The Club < You.

He loves doing mundane things with you, the kind of things he never saw for himself when he swore to stay single in this life. Like, after a good run fattens his wallet, letting you run wild in the shops.

“C’mon on then lovie, give us a spin.”

You squealed, spinning so the soft fabric fanned around your upper thighs. “I love it! But Si, it’s too much.”

“You let me worry about that sweetheart. Just let me see how it looks comin’ offa ya.” He gripped the very thighs you teased him with, eager for his favorite part besides your smile.

He’d pick up as many extra runs as it took to keep you in small luxuries, as long as he was the one that got to keep that look on your face.

They all have tattoos, but Simon is the king. His body art is top notch, because he’s very discerning with his artists. He’s had the best from Europe to the States. Now, he only trusts Price’s old lady, Johnny, and you. 

In fact, that’s how you met. You started your apprenticeship under an asshole who bailed before it was over, and took a chance on the dangerous shop everyone warned you away from. Mrs. Price was everything you were afraid of AT FIRST. You later understood it was because the shop is 141 affiliated, and she had to be harshly discerning to protect herself and her family.

Once you got over that phase, she was unendingly sweet, and dedicated to helping you hone your craft. 

Simon saw you when he came to fix the sink in the shop’s little kitchen. You were the only one there, intensely focused on a practice skin arm.

You were beautiful, hair wild from you tugging at in concentration, and your tongue poking out slightly. How long had you been working here?

“I knew you needed a hand around here, but that’s a bit far isn’t it?”

You jumped, startled out of your practice, the buzz of the tattoo gun stopping. “Oh my god! I don’t know what scared me more, you, or that joke.”

The two of you kept each other company in your respective tasks, until he was done. In admitting you were aching to do a real tattoo again, he found himself volunteering on instinct. 

At first you resisted, worried about the ethics in your mentor’s shop, and he came up with the genius idea of going back to your place. Smooth Simon.

By the end of the night he was sure he’d never need another artist again.

He’s often as busy as Price, sometimes more so. It takes a lot to run a charter as is, but to establish a table so far from home calls on him more than any other era in his time with the club. On top of that, he often pulls double duty, acting as an enforcer with Konig.

That’s where he really appreciates you understanding, and accepting, his lifestyle. You’ve made a home for him, and he only hopes he conveys how much he appreciates that.

—

He comes home with a headache taking up residence in every corner of his head more and more these days. It was all he could do to kick his boots off, and not collapse on the nearest thing that could hold his weight. His room felt miles away. Downside of living in the dorms.

He drug himself to the clubhouse kitchen, prepared to dig around for some painkillers, when he saw a post-it note on the island next to a napkin with two pills.

Ignore if not Si!

Dinner in the fridge + cake in the dish on the counter. Eat and get your ass in bed with me.

:)

He chuckled, headache long forgotten when he realized you were in his bed. However, his heart and stomach wouldn’t let him ignore the home cooked meal in the fridge, and once he’d savored every bite, he was a blur on his way to his room.

You were curled up in one of his shirts, sleeping soundly on the side of the bed he favored. He stripped, leaving his clothes on the floor, only stopping to deposit his kutte on the dresser, before scooping you into his arms.

“Si..” you murmured sleepily, burying your face in his chest, seeking something to lay on after being picked up.

“‘s alright sweet pea.”

“Glad you’re home, don’t let go.” You were slightly more awake now, but not by much.

“Was never an option.” He got into bed, relaxing in the warm spot you left behind, and situated you next to him in his arms. 

Assuming big spoon position, his hands roamed your form, finding momentary purchase wherever they could. He felt a little guilty for further waking you up, but it occurred to him that you must have seen the day he’d had, and had taken the time to attempt to make it a little better. You could be home in your own bed, but you chose to be there for him. He was starving for you.

His lips created the same desperate patterns across your cheek and neck that his hands created on your body. He gripped your thigh, giving the plush skin a squeeze, before hooking your leg back over his.

There was a sharp inhale of air from you, and you pushed back against him, undoubtedly feeling him firming.

He laid his other arm under your head, letting you lay your cheek against his arm as he grasped your face. He tilted it up to grant more access to your skin for his lips.

“Taking care of me pretty bird?”

“It’s what you deserve, baby.” You slurred, squirming in sensory overload at all of his attention.

“Swear m’ going flat hunting tomorrow.” His fingers skimmed over your covered heat, grinning when your lower half bucked.

“‘s what you deserve sweetheart. Somewhere to put all your nesting to good use.”

You moaned rolling your hips back into your solid wall of a man. “Don’t tease me, I can’t help it.”

“Oh, m’not teasing pretty bird, m’ appreciating.”

He’s been called on to do many dark things for the club. Price doesn’t leave room at the table for anyone not to pull their weight, and he’s even tougher on his titled men. However, the darker jobs fall on Simon more often than anyone else, because he’s thorough, and can put the deed away somewhere, somehow, every time. 

When he pulls on his mask, and just surrenders to being no one but Ghost, he’s ready to work. He never cared what anyone thought about his actions, he never had to, until you. 

You’d been around rough crowds in your lifetime, but Simon was a career criminal, and so was his found family. He was sure some recollection of his deeds would reach you, and that’d be your line. In fact, he was waiting on it.

He was shocked, truly floored, to find that wasn’t what triggered you. It was how you felt he was being utilized. You didn’t like, what you felt, was the unequal distribution of the extreme jobs, and you told him as much.

When he got over his shock, his reaction was fiercely defensive of the club. It was your turn for shock, but he couldn’t help it. He felt judged about the family that owned his loyalty, by the woman that owned his heart. 

You were taken aback by his ferocity, but it didn’t change your view. It created a hotbed of tension that threatened what the two of you had built, until he understood why you felt so strongly. Simon was the one taken aback when he realized your intensity came from your love for him, not a judgement of the 141. He still couldn’t wrap his head around someone loving him to that degree. In his heart of hearts, he didn’t think he was worthy of that. That’s how he was supposed to, and did, love you.

He admitted as much when the tired topic reached a fever pitch.

Simon’s close cropped blonde hair was riddled with evidence he’d been running long, frustrated fingers through it. Those same fingers pulled a cigarette from his pack,, and lit it with a calmness that didn’t reflect the current mood.

“So now you tell me what I can and can’t do? That it then?”

You snapped at the accusation, breaking the promise you’d made to yourself not to raise your voice. “I’m not telling you what you can and can’t do, stop reframing what I fucking say!”

“Grow the fuck up, you’re not a bloody baby. You knew what I did when we got together. I protect the group, I’m meant to be the first line of defense. I pull my weight, my life be damned!”

Your eyes widened in shock at the underlying implication of his words. His own expression wasn’t familiar enough to you for you to place.

“The table doesn’t make me do the ugly bits, most times I volunteer.” He flicked ash onto the pavement, his finger tapping with more force than necessary. “Whether I die, or get pinched, I can be replaced. ‘s my job to stand in front of the ones that can’t.”

His chest heaved with trapped frustration, voice guttural, raw with emotion. “That’s my use.”

You couldn’t place a time where your heart had ever hurt for anyone the way it hurt for him in that moment. It was a physical pain, pin pricking across your chest in a wave, and momentarily halting your ability to speak. You loved this man, fuck the moon, he hung galaxies in your eyes, and that’s what he thought of himself?

Simon, studying your expression and not liking the shame it made him feel, turned away. He didn’t know what to do with shame, especially in front of you. He’d said too much, and his mind was racing to find a way to undo it. Stiffening at the feeling of your arms barely meeting around his large form, he fought the urge to pull away.

Your voice was shaky, laden with the tears you didn’t bother fighting the fruitless fight to stop. “I wish I could get you to understand how untrue that is. I wish I knew where to start.”

He turned back around, but refused to meet your eyes. That startled you. Simon had never been afraid to lock eyes with you. He backed down from no one.

“Wasn’t an answer you liked then lovie? Sorry to disappoint.” He said quietly, taking a last drag before he ended the cigarette under his boot, and walked off back towards the clubhouse.

Tears streamed down your face at a faster rate now, and you tried in vain to swipe them away quickly. You weren’t sure what to say. Not then, too much was in the air as it was, and things needed to cool, but this clearly wasn’t settled

You only knew what you wanted to do. Hold him. Hold him until he saw how fucked his outlook was, and how much worth he really had.

Long out of town rides to create a bubble with just you and him. No specific destination, you just ride until you can both believe you’re the only two people you know.

He throws you a surprise party when you get certified as a tattoo artist, and Mrs. Price releases you from your apprenticeship to a chair of your own.

No one can believe Ghost is throwing someone any kind of party, but they don’t dare deny him as he enlists them in different tasks. He took the whole thing very seriously, and left no room for mistakes. No one, not even Soap, was careless enough to spoil the surprise. Simon wanted perfection.

It was obvious to anyone who watched his love struck gaze follow you when you were around, but if anyone doubted it before, they didn’t now. This man loves you.

Simon sometimes comes to you with a design he’s made for his next tattoo. It’s never elaborate, and it’s usually more utilitarian than aesthetic. He trusts you to make it pretty, he knows you will. He just wants to better convey his idea, or so you think.

In reality, he just likes when you praise him, and he can be part of your passion. He’s constantly amazed by your artistry, and humbled that you let him be a part of it. Essentially, you two collaborate on his tattoos in an undeniably intimate way.

He unceremoniously comes to you with a scrap of paper, something he’s sketched over the past few days.

“Somethin’ f’ya to look over when you get the chance.” He mutters before giving you a long kiss and leaving the shop.

You study the lines, shaky but serviceable, and the design clear. Your mind immediately began to think of ways to tie it into his existing tattoo’s style and his tastes. All the while, you kicked your feet, ecstatic that once again, the most complex person you knew was trusting you with this responsibility.

Si had some serious, high quality pieces on his body, and he thought enough of your hand to add to that.

Simon is usually more affectionate when you’re alone. In public, it’s mostly gliding fingers across your back, or a quick brush of his lips across your forehead. BUT, sometimes his intrusive thoughts win, and he has to slap your ass. This can happen anywhere, anytime.

You’re bent over the tattoo chair, disinfecting and scrubbing, and you swear you hear his hand cutting through air before you feel the smack.

“Si!”

“You put it there sweetheart.”

Shooting range dates. You’ve been judged by some of your more…conventional friends, but you’re a gun girlie (which turns Simon on like nothing he’s ever experienced), and you don’t care. They tried to make you feel like he was being inconsiderate taking you there. Meanwhile, it was damn near your demand.

Simon loves having friendly competitions, random kisses, and exchanging shitty jokes. Seeing you get excited, and engaging in a little tech/spec talk about a gun you love, gets Simon bricked up in 10 seconds flat.

You truly believe he’s taken you in hidden parts of the range more than either of your beds at this point.

Makes you keep track of football season when he’s away. Almost put you in a box and mailed you far away from him when you assumed he meant American football season.

“Don’t ever hurt me like that again lovie, I won’t be held responsible.”

Punishes you with edging and cockwarming if you miss any important details. It’s especially excruciating when he’s just returned, and all you want is him to stretch you out. Simon is a mean dom, and he won’t be moved by sympathy.

“Please Si, I only missed one game.” you whined, trying to get him to come back to where he’d just spent time building you up to fall on his tongue, only to pull away at the last second.

He smirked, rising to his feet which clued you into the fact that he really wasn’t going to finish you off then. “That’s a bad girl. Have the missing orgasm to match.”

——-

Gaz:

Lives for where you live. Your little house is his home away from home. Sometimes the gang can be on business that keeps them on the road for weeks, and the last thing he wants when he comes back, is to continue to be locked in close quarters with other guys.

That’s when you know he’s skipping clubhouse life to crash with you for a while. You love it as much as him.

Scented candles and incense, sweet laundry detergent, soft materials, home cooked meals. It’s such a soft juxtaposition to his previous journey. 

Your hands are all over him, soothing bruises and kissing him over in mapped out patterns only known to you.

Kyle may not know the difference between a single thing on your beauty table, or much about the things in your bathroom cabinets, but he knows he loves how it all smells/looks on you when he’s running his nose across your skin.

“Baby, I gotta get ready for work.” 

Kyle hummed in acknowledgement, but kept you pinned to the overstuffed couch, kissing your thighs in his own personal ritual. The two of you had been sequestered away for two days since he’d been back, but he still couldn’t get enough of you.

“Be good for me love, I won’t make you late.”

“Liar.” You giggled when he pinched you in retaliation. “If you do what it feels like you’re about to do, I won’t make it to the shop until noon.”

“Not a liar babe, you know that better than anyone else.” He pushed your knees up until they pressed against your chest. “I promise, you’ll be the first one there. Can’t say in what state though.”

Being the club secretary, it may seem like Kyle has the plushier job at the table. Wrong. He sees as much action as the other guys, and he likes to stay in shape. That’s fine by you, because you reap the benefits when you get to watch him working out at your place.

Kyle Garrick doing burpees and up-downs in your tiny backyard, clad in nothing but gray sweat shorts, and a thin gold chain against his chest, isn’t a sight that should be free. Yet, after Kyle has finished his mission of witnessing you walk funny at least once, it’s a sight you’re treated to when he sinks back into his home routine.

You somehow think you’re safe to creep-watch from the back doorway while you enjoy your green tea, even though Kyle catches you every time. He just always knew when your eyes were on him.

Without even turning to give you a look he called your name, laughing softly. “I should start charging admission.”

“I was thinking the same thing!” You stuck your tongue out at his back, slamming the door when he revealed he somehow saw that too.

Kyle comes to the salon and hangs with you between appointments. Sometimes he watches you work, and fake flirts with customers to get you more money. He’s great for business.

“Cost a little extra, yeah? But myself, I love a bird that sweats the details.” Kyle’s brown eyes and bright smile were a lethal combination against free will, you knew this for a fact.

The soccer mom in your chair ducks her head under his attention, cheeks filling in with red, as she tells you she changed her mind about the rhinestones.

You appreciate the efforts towards fattening your wallet, but sometimes he’s so effective, you get annoyed and drag him to the break room to remind him you own him.

When you ride with him, he loves looking down and seeing the pretty designs of your nails grasping his chest. Something about the contrast of hot pink, or pearlescent purple against the black leather of his kutte does it for him.

Kyle is definitely on the calmer side most times, especially for his lifestyle, but the fastest way to break that is someone meaning you harm.

You were out at a crowded club with the 141, their ladies, and some friends of the club. It was a celebration of good finances and a successful legal dodge. 

The guys clung to a dark VIP section, there for the drinks and victory lap more than the dancing. On the other hand, you and the other girls were not there to sit idle. 

After a tense few months, the cause of your respective relationship ups and downs with the guys, you guys deserved to cut loose. The table agreed, with your men shouting words of encouragement and flirtatious innuendo to hype you up.

The whole bar was enthralled by you and the other girl’s dancing, singing, and general untethered energy. It was contagious. You especially, you had a few drinks in you, and all that could currently keep your attention was the music.

There was, unfortunately, one outsider who got a little too enthralled with the performance.

When you peeled away from the group, following the uptempo rhythm, he thought that was his time to make his move.

You felt him press up against you while your eyes were closed, assuming it was Kyle, you almost ground back against him. Then you smelt the liquor. Kyle liked a drink like everyone else, and you’d even seen him drunk, but this was someone who’d been at it for a while. Disgustingly sour, too close, and ultimately not your man.

You sent a sharp hit back with your elbow, turning to confirm what you knew. It wasn’t Kyle. He grunted, but pushed forward again making you hold your hand up in a warning.

“I don’t think so.” you waved him off, laughing at the prospect of entertaining him.

Angered by your laughter, he got bolder, shouting to be heard. “Well I think so, but I’m real interested in knowing why you don’t.”

“Because I said what I said, and I have a man.” You were tipsy, but there was an underlying fire to your words lending them solidity. “Fuck off!”

He bristled at another dismissal. “Bitc-“

Kyle had appeared, most likely having started making his way to you once the man got too close, and clapped him on the shoulder. His expression said that he had heard at least some of what was said.

“Hi baby!” You shouted, a little loud even for the club, but that made it endearing. “That’s my man.” You told the asshole.

“Use your ears before I send you home carrying them.” He was gripping the man’s shoulder so tightly you should see the sharp knuckle bones flexing, his rings catching the light.

The man looked at the kutte, and the expression on Kyle’s face, and the exact moment he realized the man would act on the threat literally became apparent.

If that wasn’t enough, you had the ladies at your back, and the table alert and waiting for the call. It was over for the bastard before it even started.

He raised his hands and scurried into the crowd, aiming for the door.

“I love you baby.” You crooned, throwing your arms around him and covering his face with kisses.

He laughed. “I love you too, even when I know I’m going to be holding your pretty hair back all day.”

When the gang has to have a tense table vote in a briefing, their equivalent to some other mc’s “church”, you always wait for Kyle. As secretary, it’s his job to gather information on other gangs, as well as any important changes in the area, and his council is called on first.

You’re waiting for him right after, inviting him back to your house for the night, knowing he won’t want to stay in his dorm. He won’t show it then, but he’s disappointed, and when you get him home, you let him vent to his mind’s content.

All the while, you’re drawing him a bath, doing a light skin routine on his face, greasing his scalp, and curling up on the couch with his back against your chest.

You know his brothers have his best interest at heart, and respect his role in the club, but sometimes he can get in his head about it, and that’s when you step in.

——-

Soap:

Johnny kept his lifestyle a secret from you at first. You’d only been hooking up for a couple of weeks before you both confessed to wanting more.

The crew had mocked him relentlessly about his inability to keep a relationship casual. 

“Give it up mate, you ain’t even foolin’ yourself!” Gaz had clapped him on the back, laughing right in his face. “You start up with a girl right, and it’s over. You’re looking for a house by sunup.”

“Och, piss off with ya! I can keep it casual!” Indignant, and maybe a little drunk, he elbowed the man on the other side of him. “Tell em’ Ghost.”

Simon glanced at him sideways, bourbon halfway to his lips, careful it didn’t spill due to the prodding. “Johnny, some pretty bird starts chirpin’ in your ear and it’s curtains. Now fuck off.”

He couldn’t believe his friends, no — brothers, had such little faith in him.

Cut to a few days later, with him balls deep in you, confessing he wanted more. 

“I’ll be good to ya bon, I swear it. I’m all for ya, just be for me?”

The only thing that lessened the embarrassment of proving his friends right, was that you seemed relieved, and admitted it was what you wanted too.

He couldn’t help it. Ever since he’d been patched in, besides the camaraderie, he was enamored with the relationship between Price and his old lady. There were plenty of solid old lady/old man pairings around him, but something about the way the club queen cared for her man, kept the other girls in order, and still maintained a life for herself was astounding to watch.

He couldn’t help chasing that in every girl he’d gotten with since he’d joined up. So many girls wanted the mystique of a sexy biker, but that’s all he was for them. Either a living dildo, or an attraction they could make their friends jealous with. Things never got very far outside of the bedroom. Except once, but that didn’t go over so well in the end.

He wanted that ride or die bond so badly, he couldn’t wait to have the perfect old lady to wife up and fill a house with brats. 

With you, he prayed he was it for you, because you had quickly become it for him. 

You were a good girl. Specifically, his good girl now. He felt it was highly unlikely you would go for his lifestyle, and so he kept it under wraps at first. He knew he had to tell you at some point, but he wanted to soak up as much time as he could in case you checked out.

“Nah sweetheart, it’s nah like that. We get a little rough, but mainly, we just appreciate bikes.”

“Do ya think I have what it takes to be in a criminal organization? And with ya not knowin’ no less!?”

“Let’s talk about something else bon, did ya ken your thighs look cute warming my ears?”

Guilt eating through him like acid, especially when the club picks up on the fact that he hasn’t brought you around. Anytime Soap has a girl in his bed more than once, he’s parading around the club with her in no time. They know there’s something special about you, and that baffles them even more. Soap claims it’s because you live one town over, which you do, but Gaz calls him on his shit.

He’s hyper defensive, and fights until he’s blue in the face before he admits it’s true. He’s afraid you’ll turn out like the others, or reject him all together. He’s so far gone at this point, he’d rather you use him than leave him.

Price doesn’t like it, and councils him against lying to you any further for numerous reasons. Soap promises he’ll tell you soon, but he’s trying to convince himself as well as his president.

Eventually he couldn’t hide it anymore, but it wasn’t exactly his choice when the curtain got pulled back. 

The two of you had been to a late movie, Johnny finally having had time to squeeze in a date with you after a series of back-to-back runs. You’d suggested coming to him for once to take the burden off. Before he could object, you’d admitted that you were already in town, and he’d rushed to meet you. 

Though he was nervous about you hearing something, or seeing someone off-color that he knew, he couldn’t deny he loved the day he spent with you.

He never needed a reason to want to kiss you, but something about your soft smile under the parking lot lights compelled him right then. Maybe because your expression said just how content you were to be with him, and he buried that in his heart.

“Wait a minute.” He stopped you, lips on yours before you could ask why.

Parking lots didn’t exactly get safer as they got darker, and emptier, but he couldn’t stop once his lips touched yours. Then you started tugging on the curly hair of his Mohawk like you did when you’d really gotten into things.

He was just about to suggest he stay over at your place, when you were interrupted by a cop. You assumed he was going to warn you about loitering and apologized, but he and Johnny knew that wasn’t what it was about. He called Johnny “Soap”, and you were confused as to how they knew each other.

“Oh, Scotboy here goes back with the law a long ways back home.” The cop tried to clap Johnny on the shoulder only for him to violently dodge it. “Easy. I’m not booking you on anything…tonight.”

You were at a loss for what the cop thought he could book Johnny on, and called it out as harassment. Johnny knew, by the sick expression on his face, that the cop was eager to spill it all once he realized how little you knew about the man you were clutching. He tried to prevent that from happening.

“Yeah well, you’re just wastin’ time then, and we have a drive.” Johnny’s arm tightened around your shoulder as he started to lead you away.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what he’s told you, but if you were my daughter I’d want you to know. That’s a dangerous man you’re on the arm of.”

“Shut up.” Johnny growled, and he knew you had to be thinking about how you’d never seen him like this, but he’d also never been this angry around you.

“Johnny…” you pushed at him to try and get him to move, but he was rooted in rage.

He knew where the cop was taking it.

“This was when you were a prospect back in England right? The number you did on the guys from that other charter…interpol still talks about it. Oh wait…they never proved it was you did they?”

Johnny thumbed his nose and sniffed, jutting out his chin in utter opposition of the man in front of him. “Nah, wasnae even in the country at the time.”

“That’s right. You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve only read the reports our precinct got when you boys moved to town.” The obnoxious officer bounced his palm off his forehead in a mock gesture.

Johnny felt you squeeze his arm, grounding him for the moment, and he thought you might be saying something. His ears sounded like the Grand Rapids ran through them. A hot rage was settling into his chest, and spilling into other parts of his being.

The smug expression of the cop, one of the ones on the force who’d made things personal with the club was

“Johnny!” You shook him, finally getting through to him. “I want to leave.”

He exhaled, softening at your expression. Little tremors of adrenaline wracked through him, but he still led you towards his bike by a firm grip.

“You know, they included pictures in those files they sent over. What you did to those guys..” The cop whistled from behind you.

Johnny helped you into your helmet, watching as your eyes raced with questions, but you were so good for him. You would wait to ask him. 

He brushed his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks. “Ignore him bon. Whatever he says, please.”

“But, the real shame is what happened to Anna.” The cop continued.

In a straight shot, Johnny launched himself at him. “Shut your fuckin’ mouth!”

“They cut her up pretty bad. Was her nose always on the side of her-”

—

He knew it was bait, and he admitted as much later, but he’d taken the active grenade in his hand all the same. The wounds that piece of shit poked were too raw not to, on top of probably killing everything between you and him. 

Everything was designed to hit a critical point in him. His past deeds, Anna, and most importantly, you.

All he could think about was if he was going to lose you after tonight, there was no way he wasn’t going to make it count all over the bastard’s face.

The local police had been looking for something, anything, to get the club on, but they’d been too careful. That’s what Price had told you on the way to the precinct. Johnny had dialed for you while the cop was getting back to his feet.

“Was any of what he said true?” You were clutching your purse the way you had since you’d gotten into the car with Price and the club’s lawyer.

“I don’t know what you mean love?” Price looked at you cooly, not giving anything away, though you were sure he knew what you meant.

“Never mind.” You shook your head. “I know it’s true. Did Johnny really hurt those guys? Who’s Anna?”

Price kept his eyes on the road, while the lawyer kept his attention on his phone. The air couldn’t have been more tense,

“You should talk to your boy sweetheart. Don’t let some future desk-riding prick make you doubt the man who’d rip out his own heart just to show you it’s yours.”

You swallowed, hard, and didn’t say anything else until you got to the station.

“Um…I think I’m just going to Uber home. Tell Johnny I’ll call him.”

Price nodded, but his look was disapproving. “‘m sorry to hear that,” he adjusted his dark beanie. “But if that’s what you think is best.”

You did not call him. Not later when you were sure he had been released, and not the next day. You wouldn’t even open the never-ending text thread between you two.

He texted you early enough to be apologetic about it, and you had to push your phone to the far side of your bed to stop yourself from responding.

You went about your daily routine, getting ready for your shift at the diner. Your one room apartment didn’t allow you the luxury of pretending your phone wasn’t blowing up with text messages, but you were too afraid you’d cave if you saw the screen while attempting to silence it.

He showed up at the diner, and you pretended to be too busy in the back until he left.

He waited outside of your place, but you wouldn’t come down, going so far as to turn off the lights when you realized he was there.

No call was answered, no text replied to.

Johnny was a wreck. So much so, that as furious as Price and Ghost had been, as much as they’d come down on him, they weren’t sure he’d even heard it. They saw his regret, he did have his brothers and their families in mind, along with the fact that he was a higher ranked member who set a piss poor example for prospects and basic members. 

The fact that his stunt could’ve cost them their freedom. He saw all of that.

But he was HURTING. Physically, mentally, emotionally. It was all Johnny could do to roll out of bed and do the basics before he crawled back again. 

All the club girls dropped by his dorm. Some to be flirtatious, which he lashed out at, some to show sympathy. 

Mrs. Price and Ghost’s girl were especially gentle. It’s the darkest period in Johnny’s life, even when factoring in the Anna situation. It’s clear to all around him, you’re it for him. His soul is yours, and he’s dying without you.

It was Simon who came to you and changed your mind. He couldn't take seeing Johnny that way. The whole table was worried, but Johnny was a little brother to the taciturn specter. He’d only see him like this once before, and this was ten times worse.

In the early afternoon, the diner’s customers were nothing but truckers and elderly folks. So when the 6’4 blond with trunk-thick arms, and a permanent scowl walked in, there was no ignoring him. You noticed the kutte, and thought about making a break for the back, but his look said ‘try it’, and you thought better of it.

Instead, you wound up in a back booth with him, taking your 15 minute break. 

“‘m not the preachin’ sort, so I’ll get on with it.” He stared right through you, lighting a cigarette. “‘s no business of mine what you and Johnny decide to do, but you need to talk to him.”

You started to tell him no smoking, but didn’t feel like exerting the effort. Let your boss deal with it if it mattered.

Your hands trembled, so you put them beneath the table in your lap. “If it’s none of your business, then why are you here?”

”Because, it’s destroying him. You’re destroying him.” He turned for a moment to exhale away from your face, and then his gaze was cutting right back to you. “Lad’s a mess and a half without you. We’ve tried to sort him out, but it’s gonna take you.”

”He lied to me!“ the exclamation left your mouth without a thought to volume control, and you pointedly ignored the stares you knew were at your back.

”You knew.” he said simply. “You may not have known the specifics, and we told him not to do it that way, but you knew.”

Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, trying to express the million thoughts in your head.

”You may be a town over, but our name gets around. I know you’ve heard somethin’.” He tipped the ash in the glass of water you’d gotten him. “You’re a smart bird by Johnny’s account.”

“If you told him not to lie, then why are you telling me not to be upset?”

“‘m not, ‘m tellin’ you to hear him out. Put him out of his misery, whatever you decide.”

The man left the booth, standing back to his full height and casting a shadow over the booth.

“He’s a right fuckin’ mess. Loves you more than life.”

“More than Anna?” The name that had been swirling around in your mind came out in a semi-bitter question.

There was something that could have possibly been a flinch, but you weren’t sure. It made you regret mentioning it either way.

He stubbed out the cigarette. “He’ll be round yours by the time you get off.”

He was. Looking completely unconfident and nervous about being there. His eyes were bloodshot, and his beloved mohawk showed signs of too many anxious tugs. 

This wasn’t what you were used to with the confident man, and you didn’t like it. You understood, you looked the same way, but you didn’t like it.

He was apologizing constantly, between spilling streams of exposition that only served to confuse you, instead of clearing things up. You finally had to tell him it would just be easier if you could ask questions instead, and he sat back and became an open book.

It went all evening, and then well into the morning. Every question led into lengthy conversation.

—

“Who’s Anna?”

“...A good lass who didn’t deserve what she got.”

—

“So it’s definitely more than just appreciating bikes. Why?”

“They’re my family, and they’ve always had my back while lettin’ me be myself. If I have to do somethin’ a lil dodgy now and then, that’s a small price to pay.”

—

“I don’t doubt you love me Johnny, you make it impossible to, but how can I trust you after this?”

“By takin’ the chance to believe me when I say I’d rather die than go through this again. If honesty brings you back to me, I’ll never leave it out again.”

The sun is rising by the time the two of you are talked out. You make him stay, seeing that his sleep deprivation was starting to collect its due. It was you who didn’t sleep while you pet his hair from where he laid on your lap, and thought over your feelings.

He wakes when you inform him he has a phone call. He tells you to answer it, and you realize it’s a gesture towards the honest leaf turn. 

He took the time to honesty dump with you, so you admit to him that while you’re still hurt, your mind's made up about taking him back.

It should have frightened you how quickly you sank back into things with Johnny, but what actually frightened you was the reason why. You realized you were just as addicted to him as he was to you. How had you lasted the past couple of weeks?

It’s a mutual obsession, only strengthened by a period of absence. Something he vowed would never happen again.

You let him give you your first tattoo, and you even let him pick the design. He couldn’t believe you trusted him with the honor, and he wound up asking if you were sure five times.

“Baby, yes!” you laughed, squeezing his cheeks as a form of cute aggression over his heart eyes. 

This was such an intimate act for him, that he made sure you were completely alone in his dorm room when the day came. The room is spotless for once, sanitized to government standards. You can’t help but notice that he’s lit candles in your favorite scent, and his playlist is all soft music for once.

He spent weeks sketching the perfect concept, and even created variations for your choosing. He went through soooo many pages, unwilling to settle when it came to his girl.

In the end, it was decided, and he got to work on the inner wrist tattoo. All the while, he was checking in with you to make sure you were good.

“It’s just a small piece baby, I’m ok.” You always pressed a kiss to his nose to reassure him and get him back to work.

He looked so handsome, locked in concentration, that it almost completely distracted from the pain. You’d seen him work before, and you loved it, but this wasn’t just work right now. He was giving you something important, and you sensed that. 

When he finally finished, he sheepishly, almost fearfully, asked you what you thought.

“It’s everything Johnny. When everyone asks who’s the talent behind it, I can’t wait to say he’s my man.”

Soap has no regard for anyone or any place when he wants you, which is all the time. You’re all over the clubhouse together. The couches, the hallways, the armory. Officially, clubhouse outer-walls are your spots during cookouts.

Gaz walked into the storage room, focused on finding a part for a customer. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed you through the empty space on a tall shelf.

“Hi, eh, Kyle!” All that was visible was your face, and he wondered for a second why you were out of breath.

“Hey (Y/N), what’re you doing back here?” He gave you a side glance and smile, his attention mainly on the organized shelves.

“I’m..” you bit your lip, unable to form another word as your eyes rolled back.

Kyle froze, realizing what was happening. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me mate?!”

“You walked in on us!” Johnny’s indignant cry came from below his line of vision.

Sooo many lunch break dates. Technically, Johnny is on shift at the garage, and should be preparing for the next day’s run, but his best girl needs him :( . You work so hard at that cafe, and they never appreciate you. Not like he does.

So when he takes the work pickup truck to get you, knowing Price has told him a million times it’s not for that, he can’t be bothered to care.

“Johnny, tell me you did not go across town to buy me this sandwich.” You already knew the answer, and you wanted to scold him for neglecting himself again. “You’re gonna be late getting back to the shop!”

“You love it though. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of ya.” 

“That’s not the point, you-“

“You’re so pretty baby.”

And you melt and forget to be upset.

You can’t stay mad at Johnny with heart eyes and loving, grabby hands. Especially when those grabby hands start to get a little more focused…

What happens in the work truck, stays in the work truck. Until he gets drunk and brags at a club party….

The fun times were well and good, but Soap knew that the day would come when you got a glimpse at the uglier parts of the life. He barely got you back, and you throwing up your hands and declaring it was all too much was all he could think about.

They’d been having issues with the Shadows MC, and it was starting to boil over. They didn’t like the 141 moving in on their territory, but his table had made it clear that wasn’t up to them. This resulted in many skirmishes he could keep under wraps, but then it came to a head.

They’d hit the Shadows hard at one of their core locations, and in preparation for retaliation, Price and Ghost had called a lockdown. This meant all old ladies, kids, and friends of the club were to hunker down at the club compound until they gave the ok.

The day was here, and he’d been dreading it. He couldn’t very well leave you out there, he hadn’t exactly been subtle that you were his girl, but surely you wouldn’t go for it.

Nothing had been asked of you so far, and he was trying his best to keep from burdening you like the typical old lady. He felt you’d be less likely to leave if he kept the weightier things from you.

He must have paced up and down your street in the dark for over an hour. His phone was blowing up with demands he ‘get his ass back to the compound’ with you, ‘NOW’, but he had to do it right. It wasn’t easy to say “We mowed down some of our enemies, and destroyed their operation, and some guys could make you pay for that.”

He could lose you tonight. He could relive his past.

When he finally did get up the nerve to tell you, he was shocked at how well you took it. He knew you were scared, and you couldn’t have been too happy either, but he loved you for your strength in that moment. 

All you did was quietly pack, while his mouth ran a mile-a- minute. Swinging wildly between telling jokes, assuring you you’d fit in just fine with the other old ladies, and apologizing. You kept telling him you were fine, but your smile didn’t reach your eyes.

It took a week to beat the Shadows back. In that time Johnny had been in and out of safe houses, with barely a spare minute to check in with you. If he was being honest, he was terrified.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that when he got back to the compound, you wouldn’t be there. You’d be long gone, and when he went to your place, the things he’d left (so sneakily) would be in a box waiting on the doorstep.

He was so sure of this, that he wanted to go by your place first, but his bone-weary brothers were barely sitting upright on their bikes. Battered and bruised to hell, he couldn’t ask them to indulge his paranoia. The table didn’t like to be too far from each other until they were fully assured they were whole back home.

He was the last to walk through the door, to the shock of his brothers, but he didn’t want to tell them he was probably about to scream his throat raw when he saw you weren’t there. 

He clenched and unclenched his aching fists in anxiety. ‘Just look around the room you daft fucker!’ He mentally scolded himself.

He didn’t get a chance to. You barreled into him, arms locking around his neck. He stumbled back, weariness and shock combining to make his footing unstable, but his back hit the solid metal door behind him.

“I was so fucking worried.” You whispered into his neck, and he felt his neck dampen with what he presumed were tears.

“I was too…” he admitted, finding it in him to grip you to his person with a desperate strength.

Relief flooded his body when you started pressing kisses all over his face, and all he could do was stand there. Receiving your love.

“Oh!” You tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let you. “Johnny put me down, the girls told me about how tired you guys are when something like this happens. You should be resting.”

“I’ll get to that bonnie, just keep kissing me like that.” He whispered, hands slipping into the back pocket of your jeans to keep you close.

You took over as soon as you got him back to his dorm room. You helped him undress, made sure he didn’t collapse in the shower, and even straightened his precious Mohawk while he struggled to pull on the sweats you’d grabbed him. All the while, awkward apologies from him. From you, excited recollections of all the things you’d learned from the strong women around you over the week.

Johnny supposed he had them to thank. In the back of his mind he’d been wondering what flipped the switch, and gifted him the kind of welcome home he used to envy the taken members of the club for getting. You were the best girlfriend he ever had, but an old lady was something else, yet here you were, excelling at that too.

And later, in his room after the hot shower, he collapsed face first on the bed. It took one, deep inhale of the fresh linen to know someone had done laundry. He exhaled with a hum, openly appreciating the clean scent.

“Yeah, you can thank me later.” You laughed, entering the room from his bathroom.

Johnny heard the sound of a lid pop, but was too far gone to look back and see what it was. Then you straddled his back, your soft hands kneading out a week’s worth of tension, self-inflicted and otherwise. He groaned, feeling the soothing lotion follow your hands over the peaks and valleys of his muscular frame.

“Addin’ this to my tab then?” He slurred, half in the dream realm, half with the love of his life.

“Yep, but I know you’re good for it.” You leaned down, nipping his ear, and making him mewl in frustration as he hardened against the mattress, knowing there’d be nothing he could do about it at the moment.

He used the last of what he had to flip you over, mentally cataloging the adorable squeak you let out. Cupping your cheeks, he shared a soft look with you for just a moment, before he sealed his lips over yours. All he could do was hope you could feel everything he wanted to say behind the movement of his lips.

Judging by your soft sighs, he guessed you could.

He pulled away, settling half on you, half off. “I’m settlin’ my debts soon as I’m up hen. Bet on it.”

He makes Ghost promise to take care of you if something ever happens to him. 

“Johnny, shut fuck up,” Ghost glared at him, faint facial scars following his frown. “You’ll outlive us all.”

Johnny stared at him from across the meeting table, more serious than a personification of the sun had any right to be. They were the only two in the briefing room, for some reason the place felt sacred enough to Soap for such a request.

“‘m serious VP, that’s ma heart, I love her.” His accent thickened with emotion, and he sipped his bar as if to wash it back. 

                                                                                                                               His fingers flexed around the sweating glass. “‘m gonna marry her.”

“Lads and I knew that the first time you talked about her.”

Soap smiled at that, but his expression quickly returned to its serious state. “Sweet girl and me have been talkin’ about kids, preferably after.”

A fond quiet bloomed between them at that admission. The two of you had told no one else, and Johnny felt guilty violating your pillow talk confessionals, but he hoped it would get Ghost to agree.

“Want that more than anythin’ VP, but I can’t pull the trigger until I know they’ll be looked after.”

“The club-“

“Not just the club!” He ran a hand through his mohawk in frustration. 

Why couldn’t the stubborn fucking giant just agree?

“I know the club will look after them in general. I know I can trust our table, hope I can trust the other charters.” He sighed, refocusing. “You’re my best friend Simon. I just have to know my girl, and my bairn, would always have you at their back. If I died.”

“Wouldn’t happen. I’d lay my life down so you could make it back-“

Johnny shook his head, choosing not to repeat himself. Instead, he gave his friend a pleading look.

He could see a storm of thoughts and emotions competing for dominance in his friend’s mind. His expression didn’t change much, but it was in his eyes if you knew him.

He saw why Simon was resisting, he didn’t feel worthy of being looked to in that way.

Finally, Ghost responded after grinding his cigarette out in the dish on the table. “Promise the same f’me then. I’ve fucked her life up enough, shouldn’t still be doin’ it when I’m gone.” 

“On my honor.” Soap didn’t even have to think, it was an instinct.

“Then tell your missus you’re ready. I’ll cover my end.”

———

Price:

Head honcho. Chief. The Boss. Captain of the ship. It’s all the same no matter who calls him what, President Price is in charge.

He founded the club after leaving his original due to lack of loyalty, and thoughtless endeavors. He works overtime to make sure his club doesn’t fall in the same way. His code of ethics may not make a lick of sense to anyone outside of the outlaw life, but they’ve garnered the respect and admiration of some of the toughest men around the globe.

They’d follow him through hell because they know he’d be the first one in.

When they’re on a run, selling guns or attending a meeting in neutral territory, John’s mind is all business until business is done. Then it’s all you. He loves hearing his guys talk about how they’re going to spend their new check, or swapping stories about their old ladies. Sometimes, he even joins in.

But what he really wants to do is celebrate with you. Most times you’re already up at the compound. Seeing to the legitimate businesses, taking care of the girls, helping the member’s families, etc.

He respects what you do, what you’re capable of, beyond borders. However, he can’t help but be jealous. You always come to him first, tight hug and a long soft kiss, but then you’re quickly looking over his guys. The men revel in it, almost becoming kittens under your motherly ministrations. Especially Soap and Gaz, who you’re in the same age group as, but you scold all the same.

When the last man has been sent on his way, he’s dragging you away to the little bedroom off his office. He knows you find it amusing, to see his selfishness win out over any tiredness he’s feeling.

Before the door can even close, he’s pulling you close and kissing you his favorite way. A kiss he didn’t know he was capable of until you became his wife. Anytime he was gone too long, you did something that knocked him off his feet, or your affection wasn’t directed solely at him, he kissed you that way.

He cradled your head, holding you steady when he pressed his lips to yours. He left no room for there to be room between the two of you. Rough thumbs slid under your chin, tilting your head up slightly before he slid his tongue between your lips. He knew he had to release you soon, let you remember how to breathe, but it was hard to fight the hunger.

“Nothing flatters me like my big biker husband being unable to share me for two seconds.” you teased, but your teasing came out in short puffs, as your lungs weren’t cooperating with you at the moment.

He could feel you swaying, going dizzy, and he brushed his beard over your ear to make you squirm before he said. “Jump love.”

You did, feeling his heavy hands grasp your thighs seconds later. He slid your legs over his hips, encouraging you to lock down around his waist.

“I’m just making sure you take care of what’s yours.” he thrust upward, hardness touching. “I promised it to you that first time.”

He laid you across the bed, staring down at you with a darkened smirk. “Take some responsibility for the state of your possessions.”

He’s the head of an organization that now exists in several countries. All that responsibility is tiring, even for a man so skilled at navigating it, and there’s been many a day when all he can do is lay his head down for the pain of the headaches.

You can’t count how many times you’ve come up to the club when he didn’t come home, only to find him furiously puffing a cigar and downing shots to dull the pain. 

The guys had families to feed, there were good men behind bars for them that needed to be taken care of, he had tables back home that needed guidance, there were property expenses, legal retainer fees, and more. Much more.

That meant more risky non-legit work, which meant stretching the legitimate business to cover what that brought in. He had to know when it was time to expand, when it was time to halt, and when it was time to move to something else.

But he’s just a man, one man, and you’re there to remind him of that. 

“John?” You had been expecting to find him in his office, but the moment you stepped into the club house, you saw him at the bar.

He wasn’t alone. 

Phillip Graves, president of the Shadows MC finished off his drink and clapped John on the back. 

“We’ll talk again.” He nodded his head towards you with a wink and a smile. “Ma’am.”

Your narrowed eyes followed him out of the door, remaining there until his motorcycle’s engine was a distant roar. At that point, you turned back to your husband.

He was gripping his forehead, lit cigar balanced on the heavy crystal ashtray next to him. The last remnants of whisky mingled with the melting ice in his glass, which he threw back before attempting a fake smile.

”Hello darling, you just close up shop?”

”Yeah, and I got home to find my husband wasn’t there. What the fuck John? You said you were going to work on this.” 

You tossed your purse on the counter. “And Graves?! I can’t even-“

”(Y/N), don’t start.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I do not have that in me right now.”

Sighing, you placed one hand on his back, using the other to put out his cigar. He protested with a disapproving grunt, but was too tired to do more than that. Your face softened at that realization.

He pushed back from the bar a little, allowing you to slide onto his lap, legs splitting over his thighs. “I’m just worried. You can lead a table, you can lead the whole organization, but you can’t carry the whole thing on your back.”

You cupped his head like he often did to yours, and massaged the base of his skull. His eyes slid shut, body going lax, and he practically purred.

Leaning down, you scattered gentle kisses on his face, careful to leave no spot untouched, before going in for a whiskery kiss. It was here John took over, thanking you for the attention.

“You know that it’s not you I don’t trust right?” you asked between kisses. “It’s him.”

“I know, and you know I value your judgment.” He got underneath your shirt, hands rubbing your sides slowly. 

There was a moment of domestic peace and quiet. You massaging his temple, and he massaging your sides. Though you trusted the capable man going soft under your hands, you hoped he wouldn’t regret whatever Graves was bringing to your door.

John doesn’t come to your shop often, but it’s not because he doesn’t support your career. It’s because he can’t watch you work for very long without wanting you biblically on every surface.

You love his open attraction to you, so it’s not exactly the easiest thing to ignore. No matter how much you try to stay focused on the job, the man is the love of your life, and he looks handcrafted by god.

Hunched over a client’s thigh, your brows were drawn in concentration on the elaborate Victorian cameo piece.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see John lounging in the plush desk chair he’d dragged over. A good distance to respect your client, but close enough, he could keep eyes on his favorite person.

Your client was amused, laughing through a wince, she nodded in John’s direction. “You’ve got a not-so-secret admirer.”

“I’ve been caught lovely, what to do now?”

”Ignore you.” You quipped before glancing up at your client. “He’s my husband.”

”Oh,” she hummed. “That explains the heart eyes.”

At that, you did have to look up, instantly wishing you hadn’t. It was a visual trap. 

John, sitting there like the king he was, manspreading with no shame. Black beanie, tight jeans, dark sweater with his royal kutte draped over the sweater, and leather boots. You told him more than once he could model, to which he feigned offense. 

“Focus on your work.” John admonished, but the smirk he said it though was pure sin.

Your eyes had strayed below the belt, and John was fully aware of this. Reveling in it really.

”Don’t you have a bike to fix? A prospect to bottle feed?”

”Nope,” his arms crossed behind his head, an action you saw out of the corner of your eye. “I belong to my missus this evening.”

Your client cooed, undoubtedly enjoying the banter between you and John. You did too, too much, and his bit about belonging to you made you have to pause and readjust yourself.

”Every evening really.”

”That’s nice John.” You hissed, lifting the gun from her skin to wave him off.

Your client laughed, trying hard to hold herself steady for you.

“Don’t encourage him.” you turned yourself at an angle slightly, trying and failing to ignore him. 

“Well, it’s really far more than just evenings isn’t i-“

You lifted your foot from the pedal, and placed the tattoo gun on the tray next to you. 

“Kitchen, now.” You gave your client a sheepish smile. “We were due for a break anyway hun. Can I get you anything?”

She was visibly entertained by you and John, after all, the two of you had become a legendary couple in these parts for a reason.

“I’m good, take your time.”

John winked at your client, strolling behind you into the back. You waited until he was in the kitchenette before sliding the door closed.

”You’re such an ass.” But your hands were already under his sweater, running up and down his chest.

You appreciated that he took up so much space in the little room, forcing the two of you together. You could blame the room’s dimensions for being all over him, and not your unwavering attraction to the man.

“I haven’t seen you in 15 hours, yes, I counted. I’m always counting when it comes to you. You can’t ask me to behave.” 

Large hands slid into your hair, fingers interlocking to cradle your head. He didn’t even have to pull you in to kiss you, and he grinned, clearly also appreciating the size of the space.

“You think she’s a big enough fan to give us thirty?”

You actually have three rings. Your engagement ring, your wedding ring, and one of John’s rings that he gave you the first night you fucked.

In the quiet of the briefing room, somewhere you were surprised to be, you sat on his lap. The two of you soaked up the afterglow, the party raging outside fading to a dull noise outside of your own world. Coming down from your high, you let out a soft noise of surprise when John gripped your hair to kiss you with one hand. The other hand grasped your own, the one that had come to rest on his chest when you’d ridden him into his throne.

He slid the silver, braided band onto your ring finger, promising. “The first to come”

He loves to get in the ring and show off for you. Sometimes, there’s a loud mouth from a visiting club, or another table visiting, and John takes them to the ring they have in the back of the club’s compound. 

Usually, it’s Konig’s or Simon’s domain, but it’s not because John doesn’t love dishing it out as much as them. That becomes apparent when he delivers careful, strategically brutal, blows to his opponent. Enough to win, and then a few more to humble.

You had long ago stopped lying to yourself about how much it turned you on. So when John emerged from the ring, panting, abs catching the compound’s lights on a sheen of sweat, you always dragged him off. Under the guise of cleaning him up of course ;).

John’s breeding kink goes wild when he sees you with a baby, or any kid really. He’s been around the club life long enough to see many couples welcome kids. One of the first outings the two of you made as an official thing was to the hospital to see the birth of a member’s baby.

His old lady bonded with you, and you were quickly given child holding privileges. It came so naturally to you, and John felt what he figured the two of you would get to eventually quickly build itself a home in his chest. New Kink unlocked: breed you on any surface he could find.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, it was hypnotizing. His family around him saw it for what it was. Their president had this future scene, starring you and him, written all over him.

He thought the intensity of it was something he had to keep under wraps until he noticed you had the same feelings. 

Baby showers, shopping for 141 babies, school drives and charities the club did for the local youth, seeing cute kids on social media. It didn’t matter, John caught on to the fact that you fucked him like a feral rabbit whenever you got that maternal glint in your eye. He didn’t call you on it until after you were married. The day when your shop receptionist went on maternity leave. 

You’d been going on all through dinner, and then while doing the dishes, about how cute the kid would be, and you loved helping her with her nursery, and how she was already glowing. The more you ranted, the harder he got, until finally, he trapped you against the counter.

“I reckon it’d be easier to just say you want to be a mum.” he lifted one leg to his waist, and bucked against your clothed heat. “Say it.”

You stammered, eyes wide, pupils blown. “J-John..”

“Say it.” his voice somehow found a lower octave to sink to, choked with desire.

“What are you talking about?” you whined, embarrassed at being found out.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m hard as steel love, you feel that?” he grabbed your wrist, kissing the knuckles before quickly brushing them over his length. 

“That’s how bad I want to make you a mum, can’t you just admit it too?”

Tilting your chin up, he placed tiny kisses under your chin, purposely dragging his beard across the soft skin after each kiss. 

“C’mon then, tell your husband the truth so I can give us what we both want”

You whimpered, clutching the fabric of his t-shirt. “John..”

“Go on, invite me in.” he slipped his index finger in the top of your panties just enough to play with the elastic. Stretching it until it threatened to fly back against your skin before he eased it back in place.

You moved forward in an attempt to make his finger slip lower, and he laughed darkly, holding you in place. Shaking his head, he repeated his precious statement.

“Give me a baby John.” you huffed, frustration rising until all that you could do was spill the truth. 

Gasping, you felt the cold tile of the counter beneath your thighs. You tried to process how he’d gotten you up there so fast, but your mind didn’t want to focus on anything other than your husband kneeling before you with the most determined look you’d ever seen.

As he slipped your panties and pajama shorts down your legs, he whispered how it’d be best if you prepared an excuse for work while you could still think straight.

#cod #141 x reader #cod x reader #reader insert #kyle gaz garrick #john price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #Biker!141 #gaz #ghost #fem!reader

[resident-idiot-simp]

Haya everyone Resi here

You can find me here on TikTok, Instagram, Twitter , and AO3.

My pronouns are She/Her and I am somehow not any form of fruity ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ (well I might be a bit Aro/Ace but I don't really care)

I apologize beforehand because I cannot type dysgraphia is a bitch and I'm also your local Southerner and Christian (tasteful kind) here in the U.S. of A.

I am riddled with the ADHD and I am here to commit arson and have fun.

I love answering asks and questions (especially about my fics) so please shoot me any you have 🩷🩷🩷

Most current hyper fixation:

🧼Mw💀

My fics :

The Family Reunion- What if Soap's cousin saw him again after years of no contact?

COD

(Not a fic but the Captain MacTavish essay)

An Outsiders Thoughts- What do others see when observing Soap and Ghost

The Uncle- What if Joseph didn't die and Ghost gets to be an uncle

Comfort- Soap gets overstimulated and Ghost helps comfort him

The Loaned Sergeant- Since Soap is so used to Ghost as his LT how would he work with another Lieutenant?

The Old Team- What happens when Soap meets his old team?

Soap and MacTavish- What if Soap meets Captain MacTavish?

Time Kept Ticking- Soap's Family thinks he's dead, but he comes knocking on their door how will they react?

Your a CAPTAIN?!- What if the original 141 were canon in the same universe as their reboot counterparts and Soap with Ghost were using the task force as a cover for their own team?

Don't Dish Out What You Can't Take- Soap and Ghost have a badass kid

Hunger- Ghost is a wendigo because it fits so well!!

The BAU Meet SoapGhost- The BAU deal with John 'Soap' MacTavish and Simon 'Ghost' Riley

The Prince & his Knight- Soap is a prince Ghost is a knight what will happen when Soap I told to court someone?

I haven't Talked to You Since last Year- Simon keeps making jokes and Soap is NOT having it

The Mistake- What if after Roba Tommy kicks Simon out?

Favored by the Crows- Ghost gains an army of crows

Task Force Try Playing Games With Civilians- The 141 play laser tag and paintball with some civilians

What People Around and On Base See- MORE POVS ON YOUR FAVORITE IDIOTS

Alone Time Interrupted by Your Team- Captain MacTavish is rudely interrupted by his team during his not so alone alone time

Cowboy Dan- Cowboy Dan is so Ghost-coded I needed to write a fic so decided to make it sad and about Soap becoming Ghost after Ghost died.

A Little Help- Ghost helps preen Soap's wings

A Little Pick-Me-Up With Company- Soap offers fresh blood to Ghost so they can escape a sticky situation while Price is an unwitting watcher

Jailbirds- Soap and Ghost get arrested on a mission gone wrong

A Preventable Fate- 09 Angst regarding Price not being a good person

What is With Those Two?- Model Ghost and Football player Soap are following each other on social media and the fans just realized

Feeding Your God- 09 Ghost as a lore accurate wendigo

Accidental Mate Acquisition- Seal Mer Soap sees Ghost as his mate what will they do?

The Captain Blowing Off Steam- The Captain has his way with Riley who is just happy to be there

Mama Bear- Mama bear Beth

What do you need?- The Captain has visitors while having his way with Riley

Matching Smiles- Soap has a Glasgow smile

How Did This Snowball so Bad?! - Soap and Ghost experience their first heat/rut together

FNAF

Empire of dirt- Ever wanted to know what others in Hurricane thought of the Aftons well wonder no longer!

The Ghost & The Bear- Freddy's POV on a ghost Michael

Final Encore- What would happen if Michael met the crew in Security Breach

#Ao3 #fanfiction #fnaf #fnaf michael afton #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #soap x ghost #johnny soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap mactavish #soapghost

[pendragon-writes]

𝑀𝒲𝟤 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝑀𝓊𝓉𝑒 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

An: For the sake of this fic Reader has permanent vocal cord damage.

(Y/n) "Snake" (L/n). Have finally become the new sergeant of Task Force 141 by Captain Prices picking himself. But here's the catch, during your time in the army your vocal cords were completely damaged causing them to be permanently damaged(Leaving you only able to moan(Not in a sexual way you horn dogs))... The reason you got your code name? One of the new privates thought he was the shit and challenged you to a 1v1, in the end, it landed him being choked with your thighs and being constricted like a snake with its prey. Which earned you the name Snake.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

He heard of the task force getting a new sergeant but he was a bit surprised to find out you didn't talk.

At first, he wasn't a big fan of you cause of your code name (it reminds him of his past) he, of course, didn't let that change his opinion of you as a person whatsoever (He understands that these types of code names aren't typically picked by the person themselves but picked by others, plus you had no connection to what his dad did to him). If Price picked you then that had to mean you were good and he trusted the man's judgment.

at first, he struggled a bit with understanding sign language but after a lot of patience, this man is now almost as fluent as you are and now because of it you both sometimes talk together in sign language during missions.

If your native language isn't English and you can speak in your native language in sign language then this man will learn it.

When the two of you talk in sign language in front of people who aren't part of the 141 task force you get some looks but Ghost quickly shuts them up with a glare.

When he does find out the reason for your code name he slightly chuckles but pats you on the back.

"Now we know who the others shouldn't mess with aye?" he would tease you from time to time because of this.

After he heard this story he would follow it up with nicknames relating to your code name.

Some of them are Sir Hiss, Rattlesnake Jake, Sammy(The snake), Sandy (The snake), and so on. (Let me know if you know the references lol).

Def got you something snake related as a birthday gift.

(This part I'm basing off of ahren_comedy on TikTok)

When the two of you went to the park with your dog and he saw you moan to your dog and then return to you he was impressed.

He HAD to try it for himself.

So when your dog went back to doing their business he tried at first to call your dog by name,

"Come here (Dogs name)!"

which clearly didn't work.

So he mimicked your moan and your dog responded he started petting your dog and praising them.

"Who’s a good dog? You are!"

John "Soap" MacTavish

He was super excited, new sergeant on the team? Hell yeah!

Sure he might've been a bit skeptical of you at first but after a little bit he warmed up to you.

When he first met you with the others he was surprised to see you pull out a large notebook and write you're name on it.

He didn't understand why you did it until the Captain explained how you couldn't talk.

He'd get you to try to pull pranks with him and Gaz on the other members.

Would beg you to teach him so he can be in the loop with you and Ghost.

Would draw on the cover of your notebook when he's bored (Or on the corners inside the book).

If you are together and have to talk to other people who don't know sign language he would totally translate on your behalf.

Also calls you snake-related nicknames for a light laugh.

Ju-Ju, Mr. Snake, Kaa, Rattle Shake, Solid Snake, etc.

Has definitely pranked you by placing a snake plush on your chest during you're sleep.

During missions, if the two of you have to be quiet you two would easily talk strategy in sign language.

The type of guy to talk late at night with you through sign language, no matter how dark it is he will try.

Out of the whole task force, he is the one to use the most nicknames on you.

(This part I'm basing off of ahren_comedy on TikTok)

When John first met your dog and saw you shake your beer can and moan he was confused about why your dog left the room.

But when he saw what your dog did he was shocked. How did they know that you wanted another beer?

When he tried using his voice to get a beer all he got was a tilt of the head to the left.

When he copied your moan and did the exact can movement and saw your dog return with a beer he cheered and fist-bumped the air.

Then he praised them.

Captain John Price

This man wasn't surprised in the slightest, if anything he laughed at some of the others' reactions. He saw your file and knew exactly who you were.

He was the one to properly introduce you to the team.

He's the only one who knows how you got your code name but won't tell the others no matter how much they beg him.

He was there during the accident and sometimes blames himself for it.

He's one of the few people who have heard your voice pre-accident.

While he doesn't typically follow up with the nicknames like the others he does sometimes call you one.

When you two are drinking together and if he was drunk and you brought up the story of how you got your code name he would be snorting and laughing loudly, def the type to slap his knee.

If you know morse code he'd definitely talk to you in it.

(This part I'm also basing off of ahren_comedy on TikTok)

When Captain Price saw you moan at your dog and point to the other room and them leaving you alone it definitely surprised him.

When he left for the kitchen and your dog was trying to get his food he pointed to the left and tried to get him to stop.

"Go you muppet go to your owner".

When that didn't work he copied your moan and when your dog listened and went to you he started laughing and explained to you the situation.

#mute male reader #headcanon #john price mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #mwii #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x male!reader #john soap mactavish x male reader #john soap mactavish x male!reader #captain john price x male reader #captain john price #ghost #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #mw2 x male reader #mw2 x male!reader #cod x male reader

[lemmaliya]

Honey-trap 🍯

Summary: The task force 141 were never really fans of the whole “honey-trapping” mission. The thought of using a pretty face for bait wasn’t ideal, they’d rather do the job themselves.

Well, until now.

John Price x fem!Reader

READER CALLSIGN: Zulu

WARNINGS: Swearing, very poorly edited, slight violence, idea of seduction this is my first “x reader” fic so feedback is welcome lol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It all started when they were in the briefing room, discussing the next mission. The target they needed for intel was at a party the night they planned the heist. I mean they couldn’t just walk in and pretend like they were all part of the party. I mean cmon they were all big bulky military men.

Except for Zulu.

________________________________________

A gentle knock interrupts the silence in Zulu’s office as she’s doing paperwork.

“Come in!” She calls out, her voice gentle. In walks Gaz he seems a bit nervous, “uh- zu? Cap needs to see all of us in the briefing room“ he says, unusually timidly

“That’s weird.. usually John texts me before calling a meeting..” Zulu thought

________________________________________

“Absolutely not.” Zulu says, almost immediately, nope, no way, there was no way they are going to use Zulu for a honey-trapping mission. John stood on the other side of the table in front of her, his hands leaning on the edge on either side of him. The rest of the boys stand behind him.

“Look, dove, it’s not my favourite idea either. But it’s the best way to get in and out without anyone getting hurt.”

“Look..” she starts “I’m flattered, but this isn’t the best face you want for seduction..” she points out, making a hand gesture towards her face, ridden with battle scars. “Why don’t we just throw Johnny in a dress any put him out there?” Ghost teases as soap rolls his eyes. “And plus- we’re- dating!” Zulu continues “John, won’t that cause a bit of a..” she stops herself to think of the right word “barrier?”

There’s silence for a moment.

“Yeah.. yeah- it will. But as much as I hate to admit it.. it’s the best option.” John says defeatedly, pinching the inner corners of his eyes with is thumb and index finger.

Zulu scans the faces of everyone and let’s out a defeated sigh.

“Fine..” she gives in.

“What’s the plan?”

________________________________________

The plan was simple.

Get in.

Catch the targets attention, maybe flirt for a bit

Lure the target into a private room where Soap and Ghost will be waiting.

John and Gaz will be watching over the skylight rooftop in case anyone tries anything.

Once target is in the room punch him out so he’s passed out

Bag his head

Take him back to base for an interrogation.

“Check one two check, Zulu you copy?” Gaz says over comms as Zulu adjusts her earpiece, the party was held in some rich assholes mansion, was also calmer than Zulu thought. There was quiet chatter, classy music playing. So there Zulu sat, on the stool of a bar, a glass of whiskey in hand “Copy loud and clear Sargent.” She says, her voice low and quiet. She decided to go for a simple yet, sexy outfit. A black slim dress with a slit in the skirt, medium gold hoop earrings, black heels, and a gold sparkly hand bag paired with her earrings.

“Targets in the main hall talking with some ladies, blue tie, black blazer. Holding a glass of champagne” Says Gaz, his voice gruff and static from the radio.

“Roger that.” Zulu responds, taking the last swig of whiskey as she jumps off the stool to head to the main hall. “Go get em tiger.” Gaz encourages causing a smirk to spread across Zulu’s face.

Zulu settles herself on the nearest wall to the target, making sure her leg is slightly poking out from the slit in her skirt. The target looks over at her, bingo! Attention caught.

Gaz’s voice crackles through the radio “m’not rushing you or anything… but Price looks like he’s gettin’ impatient” he chuckles

“Tell him to stop being jealous” Zulu shoots back, she hears Gaz let out another chuckle, this time more genuine.

“Alright boys, I’ve got him locked in, he’s walking over.” She points out.

“What’s a pretty lass like you doing all alone?” He says. She can practically hear John rolling his eyes.

“Waitin’ for a handsome hunk like yourself” she flirts back, a slight transatlantic tone in her voice. Zulu kicks herself internally for that.

“Nice line zu’” Gaz smirks, looking over at Price.

“You alright cap’?” Gaz asks, already knowing the answer. “Swear to god this prick better back up.” He mutters under his breath, his gruff British accent filling the cool night air.

“Relaaaax” Gaz eases, waving him off “she’s got this.” He says confidently

Their conversation is soon cut off by Zulu’s shout in the comms that made both the men jump.

“No- no get the fuck off of me!”

Idk do u guys want a part 2?

#john price x reader #cod mw3 #john price #cod

[skelnexswriting]

Friends to lovers

HE’S SO

➪ | Pairing: | Gaz x reader

➪ | Warning: | Fluff, reader patching up gaz.

➪ | Summary: | Gaz and y/n have been bestfriends ever since she joined. Yet both started questioning their feelings. But after a recent mission their true feelings for each other were shown

➪ | A/n: | Happy new year! Hope you enjoy this fic :D

—

You would have never thought that you would have developed a crush on your best friend. Kyle Garrick. Aka “Gaz”.

And it’s not because he was unattractive or anything. (if anything he was very attractive.) But he was your best friend.

You had been close to Gaz ever since you joined the task force. Price requested you to be the medic of task force 141 and Laswell agreed. When you joined Gaz was the first to talk to you (other than price) and with you both being relatively the same age, you both got along prefectly.

You and Gaz were partners in crime. A duo. But a couple? no.

That was something you would have never thought about till now. You’ve caught yourself getting flustered around him lately. Sure he’s always jokingly flirted, but it felt different now.

You didn’t know when you started feeling this way but you knew you were in danger now. You couldn’t tell him, what if it ruined the friendship? You wouldn’t even be able to look him in the eyes if he didn’t feel the same.

Little did you know, he was feeling the same way you were. Gaz also caught himself getting flustered.

Whenever you were patching him up, the way you were so close and working so soft and carefully he couldn’t help the heat that rises to his cheeks, dusting them in pink.

His past flirting was just playful, but now it was secretly real. He loved seeing the way your cheeks would turn a soft pink.

Yet. The two of you were too shy to say anything. The both of you too scared that your feelings would ruin your friendship.

…

You, Gaz and price were currently coming back from your mission to rescue Laswell. You were barely recovering from the fact Gaz fell out of a helicopter.

Gaz walked beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You looked worried xide.”

“Of course im worried, I still can’t believe you fell out of a helicopter!”

“Well to be fair it isn’t the first time.”

You couldn’t believe the words that came out his mouth.

“….”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes at his response, shrugging his arm off your shoulders.

“I can’t believe you right now, lets go get you patched up.”

…

Now here you and Gaz were, sitting on your room floor while you were patching up his injuries. The two of you were so close together. You could feel his breath tickle your skin and he could feel your warm, soft touches linger on his.

He got a bunch of bruises and some cuts but luckily no major injures.

“You need to be more careful gaz..”

“Why? hate having to patch me up xide?”

“No. Because I hate seeing you hurt kyle.”

You looked up from your work and only now you just realized how close you were to him. Your faces a mere inch away from each other, his breath fanned your lips.

You couldn’t help breaking eye contact to steal a glance at his lips.

“Y/n..”

He was quiet, unlike his usual self. He was nervous.

“yes?”

Gaz slightly licked his lips, taking a shallow breathe before confessing,

“I really want to kiss you right now…”

Your heart skipped a beat, pounding in your chest. You searched his eyes for any sign of him joking…but there wasn’t any. He was being honest.

“then what are you waiting for?”

Gaz didn’t need to hear anything else. He reach a hand to the back of your neck and pulled you in. Connecting your lips together. His lips were slightly chapped yet plump. The kiss was desperate, you both had been waiting for this moment.

You straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him in deeper. His hands moved to your waist, giving it a small squeeze.

Neither of you wanted to pull away but you needed oxygen.

You both were breathless. He stared at your with adoration. He had been waiting to do this for a while, and now that he’s had a taste of you. No way was he going back. Meanwhile you kept him close, keeping your arms wrapped around his shoulder.

Gaz was the first to break the silence. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now”

“So have I”

“Maybe after all this mess is over, would you want to go on a date?”

“You better.”

#gaz x reader #mw2 x you #mw2 x reader #mw2 gaz #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #modern warfare #gaz modern warfare #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2

[mlmxreader]

As Sun Tzu Said | Kyle Gaz Garrick x m!reader

Anonymous asked: I was choosing so hard to Pick between, Alejandro, Rudy Gaz, and Price (Soap, Ghost, and König are getting A LOTTA LOVE) for this but I'm loving the Gaz love, especially with his hubby so, I might stay with that for a bit…

Anyway…

"Show them no mercy, baby”

SAS!Male Reader X Gaz where 141 is in DEEP DEEP TROUBLE and Male Reader is like..."I ain't  having this bullshit anymore," and just becomes a fucking TANK of a being and goes APESHIT on enemies when Gaz says that to him

It just flips a goddamn switch in his head lol

Like TERMINATOR style

Also if you could kinda continue from the same Male Reader from the recent Gaz fic I requested that would be AMAZING!!!

Also, just everything everything everything you do means a A LOT as someone who LIVES for X Male Reader and again I just cannot thank you enough…

summary: if you know your enemy, and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles - something that you and Gaz know all too well, and when shit hits the fan, it becomes apparent exactly what that means.

tws: canon-typical violence, gun violence, knives, blood, death, war, swearing

(somewhat part 1) Right Man For The Job

Time had run out. The enemy had opened fire on the base, thick American accents followed by a tidal wave of bullets as the task force, Alejandro and Rodolfo, and the SAS took what cover they could; your first instinct was to grab Gaz, to push him against the nearest car, pressing his back into the tyre as you kept him down and shook your head. You could handle it. You could protect him. You told him exactly that between barking and growling orders at your men, take cover, open fire, don’t show the bastards any fucking mercy and don’t let them see any fucking weaknesses either; maybe high command would regret sending you out to your husband now, as you kept him pressed against the car tyre and furrowed your brows, hands clumsily roaming his body. 

“You okay, baby? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“No,” Gaz breathed out, relief in his eyes as he sighed heavily. “Not a scratch this time.”

“So not like Bastogne,” you joked weakly, daring to press a kiss to his forehead. “You stay here, let me handle this, alright?”

“Before you go,” he grabbed the shirt of your collar, pulled you down for a sweet kiss that made you smile and nearly relax into it. “Lucky charm, remember?”

You nodded, daring to smile at him before you grabbed the knife from your belt and took a look at it; the handle, a dark grey, had been engraved with half of your team’s patch, and half of his. You kept saying it was lucky, although now you weren’t so sure; still, you ducked down between the cars, and took one last look at Gaz. “Not like Bastogne… fuck, I ain’t having this bullshit anymore - why have they gotta fuck everything up?”

He grinned, nodding as he threw you his cap. “Show them no mercy, baby.”

Just like how you had switched from Batman to Bane when the hostage had spoken in an American accent, you pulled the switch again; running between the cars and the various little stacks of boxes and equipment as if there weren’t any bullets with your name on heading right your way. You didn’t give a shit, Gaz’s words echoing in your head as you grabbed one guy by the throat, dragging him down before dragging the blade right through his skull through his eye. Blood already smeared across your face as you moved onto the next target. You grabbed his gun, and although you weren’t exactly the best with firearms - they were far too uncivilised for your tastes, if you were honest - you took up a position beside the body, aimed, and opened fire; three of the bastards fell, and you heard Price’s voice call out over the Comms.

“This is Bravo Six,” he sounded breathless. “Carolus Rex, if you can hear me - do not stand down. There’s six yanks heading your way, and they look like they’re ready for a scrap.”

“Roger that, Bravo Six,” you replied, hoping that the gunfire didn’t muffle your voice too much, “I got ‘em in sight… say - anyone know what happens when you bring a knife to a gunfight?”

“Not sure, Carolus Rex,” Price chuckled. “Care to show us?”

“Fuck it,” you laughed. “Why not? Stupid cunts shouldn’t have shot at my husband… Carolus Rex out.”

The others stopped in their tracks when they saw you step out into the open, brandishing that knife as you grinned and allowed the six enemies to encircle you; they looked fucking pissed, and that meant that they were weak. As Sun Tzu said, “Hence the skilful fighter puts himself into a position which makes defeat impossible, and does not miss the moment for defeating the enemy.”

“Now, lads,” you laughed, looking around at them all. “Don’t you remember?”

The enemies looked amongst one another, one told you to shut up, but you held your hand up. 

“Carolus Rex, what the fuck are you doing?” Price’s voice growled in your ear.

You chose to ignore it, speaking loudly as you held your knife above your head for a moment. “Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win… and you fucking pricks seemed to go to war first.”

They didn’t even see you when you threw your knife at the first one, managing to take him down with ease before you grabbed the next, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him into the man beside him; they were sloppy, didn’t calculate anything, and didn’t know what they were up against. As the knife went in, cutting across their skin, you ignored their dying pleas, their cries of agony and begs for mercy that would never come. If you had had the time, you would have told them how shit they were, not just as soldiers, but as a team; easily, you slit their throats and drove your knife into their eyes, pulling it out and letting the blood trickle down from the blade for a moment before moving onto the next. Six of them, one of you, and you managed to slaughter the lot without even thinking twice about it. Breathing heavily when they were all down, bodies surrounding you, a wild look in your eyes as you took a quick glance around; you heard Soap and Alejandro confirm that, on their sides, the enemy had retreated. Yet, you were SAS; you were trained to compete, you could never suffer a defeat. But then Gaz slowly approached, making sure that no other enemies were around before he let his gun rest on his shoulder, and he pulled you into a tight hug. 

“I’m dirty,” you murmured.

“I don’t care,” he whispered. “You’re my husband, and watching you take on six of them… it was kinda hot.”

You chuckled, hugging him tightly as you sniffled and shook your head. “I told you this was nothing like Bastogne.”

Gaz smiled, shaking his head. “Nothing’s gonna be like Bastogne… you okay, baby? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Nah,” you swallowed thickly. “Maybe a couple bruises, a few scrapes here and there, but… nothing much else.” 

He nodded, clearing his throat as he dared to speak over the Comms, “I’ve secured my husband - he’s fine. No injuries.”

“Good, we’ll be there soon,” Price promised. “Just gotta make sure we got the other bastards and no one’s playing dead.”

Pulling away, Gaz dared to look into your eyes as he tilted his head to the side, licking his lips. “You’ve got that wild look again.”

“Can you blame me?” You chuckled. “I don’t think any of those fuckers have ever read Sun Tzu’s The Art of War.”

“But you have,” he pointed out. “And look what happened… no one fucks with my husband and lives to see another day.”

“Unless it’s you,” you joked softly. “You’re allowed to fuck with me as much as you like.”

“I know,” Gaz chuckled, breaking away and leaning into your side when you wrapped your arm around his waist. “Who dares wins, right, baby?”

“That’s right,” you agreed with a grin. “What’d you think? Was that Christian Bale Batman, or Tom Hardy Bane?”

Pretending to think about it for a moment, he easily fell into step beside you as he marched with you back towards where the others were, planning to meet in the middle. “Definitely Tom Hardy Bane - I wouldn’t wanna meet you in a dark alley… wouldn’t wanna meet you in the smoking area of a pub, either… but are you sure they didn’t hurt you? You sure you’re all good?”

“I’m not broken,” you said reassuringly. “Are you?”

“I’m good as new,” Gaz smiled as he nodded. “Thanks to you.”

“Well, maybe we can make it even,” you mused. “Next time some shit kicks off, you can protect me instead.”

“Like Bastogne?”

“Not like that,” you grumbled playfully, shaking your head. “We ain’t doing that again.”

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick imagine #kyle gaz garrick fic #kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick x you #gaz garrick x reader #gaz garrick imagine #gaz garrick fic #gaz garrick #gaz call of duty #gaz cod #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #kyle garrick imagine #kyle garrick fic #kyle garrick #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #call of duty x y/n #call of duty imagine #call of duty fic #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mwii #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you #mw2 fanfic

[bleachedjuice]

'To Whom The Bells Toll'

König x reader

Warnings: foul language

So, this will be as lengthy or possibly longer than adrenaline high, and so the possibility of an every two day posting or day to day base will most likely not be possible. So there will be either one to two parts posted weekly at scheduled times on the respecting days:Monday and Thursdays.

These chapters will also be much longer,give or take the range of 1,500-3,000 words or longer for each chapter.

Parts of the fan fic are not a part of the campaign as I do not like to stick to the game, so be warned if things are a little out of whack. As well as locations will also be made up.

Enjoy:)

Just as your back had struck the cold metal of the choppers belly,you felt relief from the harsh heat that broke down onto you and your team. Respectfully, Laswell had assigned you to the task force 'Dark' given your team, and you have had your fair share of doing things behind the scenes and doing thing sometimes even the government isn't even aware of until Laswell herself gets word from your team and report it back to base and then the government. And now you all were on your way to a touch and go base somewhere out in the Pacific coast line of Australia... to help or well give extra set of hands to the task force 141, and you'd be damned if Captain Fucking Price though he'd be commanding your squadron. Your team. Your family. As far as his bucket ass is concerned, your title as Captain holds you as commander on your team.

And his on his.

Turns out some sort of uprisen activity of a wanted fugitive, Hassan. Had missiles. American missles, and now here you were being sent out to help these boys out due to the uncanny fact that they got screwed over by the US governments task force : the Shadows.

Your pack lay hard against your back as you pondered what the hell made you stay. After taking a bullet to the face and surviving with basically the left side of your mouth exposed to one of your first missions to date for a commanding officer, you were "saved," but had been given the offer to stay or be departed from your team... you stayed. Scared and knurled, you climbed your way bitterly to the top, and now found yourself captain of your beloved team.

Your fingers subconsciously traced the mutilated side of your face. The scar ran down to the bottom of your chin to culr its way up to your lip or where they'd be on the left side. All that was left was a pinkish thin line of scar, and what was left of them on that side. The scar left no skin to protect your upper gum and teeth area. Leaving your teeth and canines exposed on that side. You were once ashamed of it. Before realizing that It showed you truly were a survivor.

And as the people at base call you and your team, "Laswells Hell Hounds".

Fitting to the monstrosity of things you've all seen, been through and have been left scarred with. Either mentally or physically.

Glancing over your members. Your eyes ghosted them as they conversed, gladly leaving you to be alone for the time being until you were to speak. They knew how you got on choppers. On alert. Hostile even. You never liked choppers. Always gave you the feeling of being open to being popped right out of the sky.

Almost 3/4th of your squadrons members had visible scars or mutilation from missions.

Others had them worse behind clothing and the protection of cloth.

Only 5 of you.

And you 5 where utter machines.

And you could it feel it. The urge itself to move even while sitting on the chopper. The way you shifted in your seats, your eyes scanning over everything, the constant checking of your guns.

You all were bred for it. Best of the best. Weened right off of the teat of the training programs and chucked right into others to morph you all into the beings you are now.

Like rapid dogs, you all tore up the battlefields. Secreted dread from any other teams you where placed on.

And as the wind weeded unto your now sweat dried face, you only would imagine what awaited you five when you stepped off this chopper.

Imagine, funny how you couldn't lay a finger on what would happen, yet here you all were. Standing in a dust filled room with the sun slowly creeping in like a shadow would, dancing with the dust with its rays that danced off parts of skin and wretched its way harshly onto the outlines of the guns still held in your hands like defensive dogs.

And give or take you held a scowled look, almost a snarl on your face. Couldn't help it with how you face looked now.

Scoffing at the words of your own sourness as your eyes danced along the members of the others team.

You've worked with some of these men before.

Soap Mctavish. Simon Riley. And Price.

But a new face caught your eye.

One who was hidden behind a snipers mask but was evidently too tall to even be a sniper in the first place.

Intestresting.

And you felt his eyes lock onto yours. Crocodilan. Sharp.

You felt the hair on the back of your neck. You felt your face scrunch up slightly, your teeth baring harsh together as you forced a quick smile. And you could feel his eyes narrow at you, his back straightening and his shoulders squaring.

You could just feel that you two would be butting heads.

Feeling yourself space out at him like a rapid dog, you snapped back into motion with a blink before cocking your head audibly toward Laswells voice, the tall ones figure kept in the corner of your eye. All of their team was kept in the corner of your eye as she talked.

"The main goal is to get Missiles back out of the hands of Hassan. So far, we have gotten one missile out of this bastards hands. But there are two missing. Mind you, these are American, leading in for us to believe that Hassan had some ties with the Shadows and Sheperd. Which also has come to the lead of Hassan having ties in Russia. We may have a lead on the Missile."

"Where?"

Her gaze snapped to your voice as it rung out, your brow quirked up, waiting for her to answer.

And she seemed pleased to see her "hounds" ready.

"Russian Town on the border of Ukraine,океан or ocean. He is believed to be there as well. He is the second primary target of this mission. Capture or kill. Do what you may, but we need to get that missile out of his hands. You all will take one jet out. And then will weave through the rear end of the border between the town and the ocean cutting at the base of them both. And through the border, you will split. 141, your duty it to ensure a clear path way for the recovering chopper, Gaz will take an overlook and snipe. After that, Y/n will take their team and swipe the ground clean and recover the Missile and hopefully kill or capture the mad man behind this all. You have until tomorrow evening 6 sharp to rest and prepare. Dismissed"

And with that your Team had already weaseled past the rest, leaving you to shoo them off as you stayed back with the expected look from Laswell to stay and wait for the other to leave. And the rest did. Besides the hulking crocidle next to you.. of a man they called König.

And she spoke.

"König will be with your team. He is big and large and will divert eyes enough to pry attention from your guns to take the eyes eye ."

"Ma'am, I will allow him to work with My team. But he will stay clear of my way."

"As I expect him. And I expect you to ensure he stays clear out the jaws of your team. Dismissed."

And with that, you turned and left. Your eyes narrowed at König as you walked past him. And he followed After, before shoving past you like a child.

"Ah, excuse me bitte."

And with that and a heavy Austrian accent, he was gone as you both spoke in unsion.

And as you walked out after him you faintly heard a voice..Laswell.

"Don't blow it Y/n..one shot."

Fuck...

#konig cod #cod x reader #modern warefare 2 #mw2 könig #könig x reader #konig imagine #konig x male reader #konig mw2 #konig x y/n

[unlikelyaperson]

Fanfic ideas

Ideas under the cut

link to part 2

(3 ideas total)

Ideas can be used for any Fandom /characters /pairings, but I had CoD MW2 (Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2) and CM (Criminal minds) and certain pairings in mind (x reader, x reader platonic, (AKA, + reader))

all ideas are SFW, I'd prefer if the fics using or inspired by these ideas were kept as safe for work/ non smut, and please tag me (like how you do would if you received an ask) I would love to see any writer's work

thank you for reading

quick note:

'x' means a romantic pairing between 2 (or more) characters,

'+' means a platonic pairing between 2 (or more) characters

• (gender neutral) civilian reader who is a singer/ model/famous person, etc

-friend or S/O of reader brings them (to a party to gathering) to meet the team

-friend or S/O knows that reader is known

-but did not expect the one of team (or maybe even the entire team) to know exactly who reader is

-maybe the the team (member) is a big fan of reader

originally thought of a pairing of Ghost (CoD) x/+ reader, or Spencer Reid (CM) x/+ reader

• (gender neutral) reader with cat-like behaviors, not necessarily a hybrid but just general behavior like:

-they don't like people touching them unexpectedly *especially* if reader does not like/know the person

-has sharp teeth

-they *will* bite

-oddly good hearing

-need to warm up to people AKA the more time you spend the more likely reader with be friends with/like the person

-only will have back turned against a person if they feel safe with/trust the person

-doesnt like people with 'loud' personalities as much (will take more time for reader to like them)

-doesn't like loud sounds in general

-likes stealing S/O or friend's clothes(/ likes their S/O sent(?))

-reader *can* sleep anywhere but chooses not to out of 'safety' (for themselves) (basically they won't sleep if they don't feel safe)

-has "odd" sleeping patterns,

-is not unfamiliar with a good nap

-reader will take a nap in the middle of the day even if they got a full night's rest

-likes to lay down and rest their head against a friend's or S/O's lap

-loves the sun/sitting where the sun shines

some (more(?)) unserious ones

-big flight/fight reactions, AKA they are either biting you or running away immediately

-loves hiding stuff (in a fun way, not in a mean way)

-easily pickupable, they don't mind being carried every once in awhile

-will headbutt a person when they want attention (like against the person's arm,, it doesn't hurt)

-loves head pets/pats(?) but probably will never admit it

-is compared to cats often

originally thought as a reader + task force 141 (AKA platonic)

•(gender neutral or masc) reader who (ALSO) wears a mask

-this idea is every much just my OC, so I'll not give many details

-unless someone want to hear about my OC, then i might write a post or we can talk in DMs/PMs idk

-joins 141 TF

-they basically wear the mask 24/7 (or seems to)

-vaguely threatening all the time

-they don't eat or go to bars with the task force so they don't show their face

-has a general aloof personality

-probably gets compared to Ghost, reader doesn't even have a skull mask, it's just because they wear a mask

originally thought as a Ghost (CoD) x/+ reader or reader or a task force 141 + reader

like I said this is basically just my OC, but if anyone wants to hear about my OC, let me know :3

thank you for reading, likes and especially reblogs appreciated

#fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic ideas #cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod fanfic #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader platonic #task force 141 x gn reader #task force 141 x gn reader platonic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon ghost riley x gn reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x reader #it posts #simon ghost riley #it speaks

[rodolfoparras]

Hey sorry for not responding in a while, been busy with family stuff

But no, it wasn't Simon saving reader. It was the one I mentioned where reader use to work with Price, but then left at the beginning of the making of the task force. But Price wanted reader back so he sent Ghost to get him, only reader doesn't want to go so Ghost rode him without letting him cum until he finally gave in :)

Isn't 🔮 the anon that really likes Ghost? I should let them read it, they might like it

Anyways, how's your day going bud?

- ❓

KICKING MY LEGS AND TWIRLING MY HAIE Jesus Christ id do anything absolutely anything if he did that to me actually if any 141 member did that to me🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️

Also I think 🔮 anon would love to read it! Even as someone who’s not the biggest ghost fan, the fic sounds absolutely delicious!!

My days going good my sugar! It’s inching closer to 10pm so I’m trying to finish up my milkman fic before I go to bed, and I’m feeling well rested and better than yesterday so thank u very much for that god 😌🫶🏻 how’s your day going sugar? I hope all is well with you!

#alec answers #❓ anon

[st-el-la-luna]

El's WIPs (Wow I Procrastinate) (Works in Progress)

Find below the estimated order of release for my WIPs as well as some simple summaries. Please note that I make no guarantees that I will follow this order of release, but I will try.

1. Only Love Can Set You Free (So Could the Key, but You Ate That): Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

When your friend had invited you to stay with them in Las Almas, Mexico, you were excited. Sure, Las Almas is known to be a cartel hotspot but so long as you keep your nose clean you should be fine. You are not fine. With armed mercenaries shooting their way through the city you find the one person who could maybe help you. Unfortunately for you, he seems to be on a mission of his own. But you can't risk him leaving you behind. And those handcuffs on his belt are right there... tags: gn!reader, meet ugly, handcuffed together, comedy, action, violence, gore, multi-chapter fic, eventual feelings

2. Pros and Cons: Nerd König x Cosplayer!Reader

When König got the notification from one of his favourite cosplayers twitter he nearly had a heart attack in excitement. They were going to a Con in Germany? König is close to Germany. He... He could meet you! He's your biggest fan! And... And you have no idea he exists... tags: gn!reader, cosplayer!reader, fan!König, angst (due to anxiety), meet cute, shy awkward nerds being shy awkward nerds, meet cute, fanboy/girling, infodumping, fluf

3. Darling You Could Serve Me Cyanide and I'd Drink It With A Smile: Philip Graves x Reader

Graves usually doesn't pay attention to bartenders. On occasion he has been known to take one home for a spot of fun. Until he sees you, the new bartender at the bar near the Shadow Company base, threatening to rip out a rowdy patron's throat. tags: gn!reader, drinking/smoking/drugs, men being gross to women(not Graves), bartender!reader, anger issues!reader, Graves is whipped, reader doesn't really give a shit

4. Syrupy Sweet: Nasty Baker! Soap x Reader (pt. 2) NSFW 18+

Since you and Soap first met, you've become a regular at the cafe. Easily the highlight of his day... Or the second best. Jacking off to the thought of you is the best part of his day. And he does it a lot. Hmm? You heard him say something? Don't worry about it, he's just thinking aloud. But, hey, if you've got a couple minutes he has a new recipe he's been trying out... Just let him get them from the back room. tags: gn!reader, non-con/dub-con cum eating, male masturbation, obsessive behaviour, cyberstalking, actual stalking, psychological manipulation, dirty thoughts, fantasizing, lust at first sight, disgusting!Johnny "Soap" MacTavish Part One

5. Cuddling with Task Force 141: Individual + Poly!141 x Reader

In a career so embroiled in death and violence, with high stakes and constant adrenaline, it's nice to have a chance to relax. And what better way to do that then by snuggling up with your favourite teammates? tags: gn!reader, fluff, soft boy hours, as the title describes

6. Airplane!: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Kyle didn't used to be afraid of heights or airplanes, but after a recent event he finds the idea nauseating. Unfortunately, he has no choice. Even more unfortunate, he's stuck in the window seat. At least the person sitting beside him looks nice enough... What is that they're watching? Final Destination? He's never heard of it. Sure he'll take an earbud, anything to distract himself from thinking about falling out of the plane. tags: gn!reader, meet cute turns meet ugly, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is understandably scared of heights, comedy

7. I Am Gonna Make It Through This Year If It Kills Me: Childhood Best Friend! Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

It's not often that Ghost lets himself be dragged out by his teammates to celebrate a successful mission. But he couldn't be happier he agreed this time around. Not when the live singer in this dump of a bar looks so familiar; it's you. His best friend from childhood, who had told him once, as you both sat in the back of a bar you were too young to be in, pretending that your home lives weren't more hellish than the ninth ring, that you would be a musician one day. And that you would make enough to take Simon away from it all. His best friend from childhood who thinks he's dead. tags: gn!reader, childhood friendships, reminiscing/nostalgia, angst, fluff, reader and Simon both have bad home lives, Simon escaped, reader didn't, drinking, bars, music/singing (not a song fic but bits of songs will be quoted here and there), angry at the world!reader, Everything Stays by Rebecca Sugar core

8. Draw Me Like Your Art Teacher Says You Have To: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Art Class Model! Reader

Soap decides to take Ghost's suggestion to heart. After all, LT wouldn't give out advice or compliments if he didn't believe his words to be true. So, with a couple months of leave ahead of him, Soap enrolls in an art class. It goes smoothly at first. Almost boring. Until the class moves on to anatomy studies. He's expecting an old woman or man, easily past their prime to stroll in. Instead, he has his breath stolen away by the most stunning person he's ever seen in his life. And they're about to get very naked. tags: afab!gn!reader, meet cute, fluff, humour, nudity, slight pervy!Soap, crushing, jealousy

9. It's Not Enough: John Price x Reader (pt. 2) NFSW 18+

With both his hands in casts for the foreseeable future, your Captain has been calling on you for help with a number of mundane tasks. You didn't expect him to ask you to help with this... Not that you're complaining. How could you pass up on making a grown man cry? tags: afab!reader, pure smut, pwp, sub!Price, mommy kink, begging, orgasm denial, desperation, dacryphilia, dry humping, pillow fucking, premature ejaculation, multiple orgasms, handjobs, blowjobs, anal fingering Part One

10. 1fur1 Thots: Task Force 141 + König x Reader

My many, many thoughts on @charliemwrites 1fur1 AU tags: gn!reader, inspired thots, wolf shifter/werewolf Task Force 141 and König, fluff, found family, naive!reader, deceit, maybe angst, maybe smut, monster fucking (?), they're dogs (affectionate), they're dogs (derogatory)

#call of duty #cod mwii #cod #x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #konig cod #philip graves #captain price #fanfic

[questforgalas]

Tags/Warnings: Referenced non-con

Masterlist

WC: 1k

Flower symbolism: Ghost's bouquet: Orange lily (hatred), thyme (courage), dark crimson rose (mourning) Soap's Bouquet: Heliotrope (devotion), marjoram (joy), sunflower (adoration)

Fic is rated Mature

For those who prefer Ao3

Simon Riley wasn’t a small man. A mountain of a man seemed extreme, but the average person had to crane their neck up to meet the lieutenant’s eyes, towering stature framed by muscles continuously testing the stretch of cotton and jean, and as if the threat of his pinky finger being able to break a person in half wasn’t enough, Simon played right into the hands of every recruit’s (and commanding officer’s) nightmares with his need to cover himself head-to-toe, never baring more than was necessary. 

Stolid, brown eyes measuring the world from behind a black mask.  

A carefully protected persona that was the “Ghost” of Task Force 141, because looking at Simon Riley was looking up at the reaper itself.  

No one actually knew the origin of the nickname, not even Captain Price, because there were things about Simon’s past that even the captain hadn’t unlocked from the painstakingly protected safe holding the pieces of the man, the final tethers keeping the Ghost from fully taking over and finally burying the man in a casket in Mexico. 

“Big fan of Halloween,” he’d answer when anyone dredged up the courage to ask, Manchester accent thick and tone drier than the dirt in the training field. 

No surprise that like most things hidden behind a mask, rumors followed Simon down every corridor. 

“I heard that the lieutenant’s body’s covered in scars from one nasty mission down south. Had to take down a whole base with one hand to make it out.” 

“Heard he’s got some skin condition, can’t be exposed to the sun or he’ll shrivel up faster than a raisin in the sun.”

”Well I heard that Lieutenant Riley is actually more robot than man. Had to have his innards replaced after he died four times coming back from a mission in Uruguay.” 

He’d never admit it, but Simon was particularly fond of that one, and if Price ever asked, Simon absolutely did not fan the flames by imitating squeaking metal when passing the newest batch of recruits on base. 

Juvenile fear was the captain’s problem. Not Simon’s. 

What was his problem was the sorry gaggle of soldiers in front of him doing their best to not fall over in the mid-August English sun, chests rapidly rising and falling, desperate to catch their breaths, none risking being the first to double over. Typical shotty, masculine pride. 

Simon delighted in driving it into the ground. 

Need another batch of female recruits. Show these shites how it’s done, he thought.

 “Alright, listen up,” Simon yelled. “If I wanted my gran to join up, I’d’ve recruited her. Instead, I have you lot apparently thinkin’ the objective’s to have a picnic in the mud pit.” He marched up and down the rows, catching the small flinches at the sound of his voice next to their ears. “Run it again.” He stopped at the front, facing them. “And anyone who comes in over three minutes runs laps until I fall asleep tonight.” 

A collective groan rose into the air.

Muttered curses found their way to the lieutenant’s ears as the group turned back to the start of the course, backs bowed a little more, rifles barely balancing in their grips. One recruit, Chavez, attempted some lighthearted banter, but all he got in return was a punch in the shoulder. 

“Pick it up. Preferably while we still ‘ave daylight.” 

Dead stares responded back. 

Simon chuckled. 

“On my mark.” Antsy legs. Twitching hands. One last prayer. “Go, go, go!” Simon bellowed, and while the recruits scampered through, he crossed his arms, let his weight settle back in his heels, and waited. 

“Mind tellin’ me why you’re drillin’ recruits like they’re vets?” A boonie hat atop a mutton chop beard wandered up next to him. 

Captain John Price possessed more military accolades than Simon had cells in his body. The captain left his home in Herefordshire and enlisted as early as he could, making a career out of the military, and when asked why, he’d give a shrug and simply say “Someone’s gotta protect the people”. 

A gifted strategist and smarter than most of the generals above him, John rose through the ranks with no resistance, regularly reworking playbooks and implementing new strategies that had the brain’s back at base going “Huh, should’ve thought of that”. So, it was to no one’s surprise when he was tapped to form a special forces task squad he affectionately named “141” - one for one (If asked about it, he’ll try to wax poetic about being a team and everyone is there for eachother, but that usually ends with more questions than answers. Sergeant Garrick is convinced the captain’s just a huge Three Musketeers nerd).

Simon served under Price on a number of missions when he first joined, impressing the captain so much so that a recommendation for special ops made its way to the brass before Simon completed his first year. They crossed paths again years later, and if John noticed that the man in front of him wasn’t the same lad who looked up to him all those years back, he didn’t say anything. 

Didn’t mention the masks Simon now wore like a second skin nor the need to have every inch of his body covered. Didn’t mention that previously warm, brown eyes were blocks of ice. Never brought up the years in Simon’s file labeled “MIA” just to be followed with a simple “Deceased”. The captain just took one look at him, gave him a nod, and said, “Good to have you back, Simon.” 

He was the second soldier Price tapped for the task force, just after the captain’s personal sergeant, Sergeant Garrick.  

Simon kept his gaze on the training course. “Heard ‘em in the mess hall yesterday loudly boastin’ ‘bout the ‘drunk sluts’ they brought back to their rooms. Said they were askin’ for it.” Simon shrugged. “So, figured they asked for this.” 

“I see.” Price murmured. “Heard that three minute limit, though, coulda sworn you meant to say two.” He turned toward the lieutenant. 

“Aye, sir.” Simon met the captain’s gaze. “I believe ya’re right.” 

“Good man.” Price patted Simon’s shoulder. “When you’re done with ‘em, come to my office. Got a mission for ya.” 

“Copy that.” 

With a quick nod, Price was gone. Simon tracked him for a beat before he turned back to his afternoon’s entertainment. “Oi, my dog moves faster than you lot, ‘nd he’s dead!”

#edited with new design #tay writes #call of duty #simon ghost riley #captain john price #ghost soap

[ominousmotion]

Thank you for the tag @sparkly-skies 💕

9 people you’d like to get to know better!

3 Ships: Ghost x soap in call of duty all 6 of the blind channel guys polyamory and you know what fuck it more cod shit (and polyamory) task force 141 all those boys need a fucking hug especially soap rip

First Ship: i basically only read x oc fan fic untill a couple of years ago but if i had to guess it was probably rose and the tenth doctor

Last Song: Undertow by archetypes collide absolutely fell in love with them after seeing them with wcar and allegedly became their #3 listener in the world after a month of listening so yeah there very good and the guys are very nice and funny

Last film: I think it was into the spiderverse cuz the new one is on Netflix now so i was catching up and never actually ended up watching the new one

Currently reading: fan fic always but specifically call of duty fanfic truly everytime i try to consistently stuff in other fandoms i keep coming back to cod especially with how mw3 ended i need fix it fics

Currently watching: at this point if im watching tv just assume its critical role related so ive been keeping up with their 3 campaign and i started watching candela obscura the circle of needle and threat also by critical role its quite good

Currently consuming: fucking haribo (i fully typed put hasbro and to google the actual name 😅) gummy brears they are the shit like ive been buying a pack once a week which is very bad for my cavity but they are so good

Currently craving: a huge but like the kind of hugs that olli gives where its soft warm and firm and makes you feel comforted and like surrounded and like you want to ask to be squeezed bc you just kown it would like totally reset your sympathetic nervous system and you can just relax into it and feel safe an warm

Im tagging: @jupiter-balls @askeataiho @there-is-just-me-myself-and-i @man-made-misery @because-its-eurovision @concretenoah @deathblacksmoke @transmutethegold

if youve done this or just dont want to do it feel free to ignore me 💕

#that last question really turned into hmm let me discribe my perfect hug #tag games #i had a thing for hot military men for a long time and then i dated them so now i have a thing for hot fictional military men

[azazraelz]

Lucky Number Seven

Wooo first post! Anyways, I couldn’t find any fan fiction of Ghost x male reader that appealed to what I wanted and were long enough, so I’m making my own. Your name that your character goes by at first is Angel, you will find out why later in the story. This will be an ongoing fic so I’ll update as often as I can. This is an informational post as well as the start to the story. You join task force 141 at the beginning of the campaign. You are a special operations soldier from the marines, trained in hand to hand combat as a teen. This isn’t going to follow the story of the campaign though, rather some side missions and stories that aren’t in the game. People just call you Seven (that’s your code name). Every chapter will have a trigger warning pertaining to what shows, whether it be violence, cursing, anything along those lines. Darker topics will be in red. This is for male/masc readers only so please so she/her or she/theys interact with this. So anyways, on with the fic!!

TW: death, cursing, somewhat extreme(?) violence, suicide (not super detailed but still there)

Part 1

Always simple, stupid, too naive, that’s what they always said. My lack of street smarts always causes trouble for my adoptive family, yet they still love me. Though I don’t think this time they’re going to forgive my mistakes. I should have known to stay away from those men, the biggest gang in my small town of mostly Hispanic families, but I didn’t. I couldn’t tell! They were so kind, took me in and said they would protect me, for a cost. I said I couldn’t pay it and thanked them for the offer. They didn’t take it lightly.

The blood, there was so much blood. I never knew how much of it there was in his body. I didn’t realize how fast it flows, how hard it is to stop it once it starts to come out of places it shouldn’t. When he told me to come to his side, I didn’t know that would be where he says his last words. My brother, my favorite person, he died in my arms while telling ME everything is ok. I couldn’t do anything to stop it, the gunfire wouldn’t cease and I had no escape. I tried pulling him to safety before he passed, but was yanked away from him before I could start dragging him. The military. I screamed, cried, tried to pull away, anything to get back to my brothers body, I couldn’t just leave him there. Well they had other plans.

When I was finally safe, I couldn’t bring myself to return to my family. So I ran away. Spent my days hiding and keeping active, only traveling at night. Something changed in me that night, for the better. I became wiser, grew the fuck up and acted my age instead of the sheltered child I was. I turned to parties for entertainment and social time during the night, and eventually found an off the books job at the ripe age of 17. Then that’s when I met him, a marines recruiter. He told me to come to him when I’m 18 if I’m interested in joining, and that’s exactly what I did. My name is Angel, no longer is it y/n. I don my mask to hide my identity, and I put up my walls. Cliche? Maybe, but I refuse to let myself get close to anyone, because eventually they will die, and they will not be my problem.

“Angel…Soap, keep your head in the game, this is a capture or kill. We need Almagro alive for questioning but his gang will do anything for him, they will aim to kill. You have kill rights if need be, but avoid it if possible, now move.” Ghost’s commanding voice rips through the silence of the aircraft carrying the three men towards their destination, only stopping to let them out before taking off. The cover of night and the fog keep the aircraft out of sight, for now, but there’s no telling if that will be the case if they need air support. Angel follows behind Soap and Ghost, watching behind them through the thick fog to make sure no one sneaks up on them, only turning his attention away when his shoulder is grabbed by Soap.

“Be careful, these guys don’t mess around.” His thick accent making him slightly grin under his mask. Angel has been with task force 141 for about a month now and has gotten pretty close with Soap and Price, he even started getting to know Alejandro, bonding over their common knowledge of Spanish. The sound of the door creaking open pulls him away from his thoughts and he pulls his gun back up, being the first one to enter the building. It’s a warehouse but it feels like a maze with how much stuff it has in it.

“Take a look at this, drugs, guns, and money.” Angel points into a small room while whispering. He’s noticing everything is quiet, too quiet. That’s when he finds it. A room with four chairs in a circle facing each other, dripping with coagulated blood. The smell of iron is so strong it stings his eyes. He walks further into the dark room, his boots hitting against something soft on the floor, and when he looks down, his expression softens for only a moment. A body with a piece of paper on it. He looks back to see if Soap or Ghost are there before picking up the note.

“It’s all in Chinese, I don’t speak-“ A sharp pain in his spine causing Angel to let out a cry of pain before he’s yanked by his hair and tossed to the ground. He was kicked in the back by someone much stronger than he. He tries to shoot but the weapon is pulled out of his hands, luckily he took Ghost’s advice and carries multiple knives on him. The assailant gets on top of him, reaching for his throat, but Angel is faster. He grabs a knife and stabs it through the man’s hand before trying to shove him off, the man wailing in pain before walloping punch after punch onto Angel. He does his best to block them but a few connect with his face and ribs. An abrupt searing pain in his upper arm causes him to let out his own scream of pain which finally alerts his teammates. Ghost and Soap rush into the room, Ghost taking the man out with a M9 pistol before the two approach Angel who has sat up, holding his hand to the knife sticking out of his upper arm.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Let’s just check who that was and get out of here.” Angel says before yanking the knife out to the protests of his two teammates. Soap seems concerned but listens, checking out who the attacker was. Not Almagro. While Soap and Ghost discuss further plans, Angel wraps the wound up with a bandana he had in his pocket before standing up, stumbling. His vision fades out but he doesn’t collapse, he stays standing. Shaking it off, Angel walks with the two, scouring each room until they find who they were searching for, taking him into custody and escorting him back to the plane that brought them here. It’s still awfully quiet, but they aren’t going to complain if things are going right. Angel slowly trudges along, slowly falling behind the two. He’s lost a lot of blood already and is turning pale, but he continues on until they get back. Once they’re in the plane, he sits down and immediately loses consciousness, only rousing to the sound of the plane landing. Surprisingly, Ghost helps Angel up and brings him to the medic, but he doesn’t leave right away. Ghost stays in the doorway, watching, waiting, making sure everything goes right and only leaving when forcibly removed. Angel was too hopped up on painkillers to even notice the worried look in Ghosts eyes as he walked away.

#simon ghost riley x male reader

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Omg wait I thought this was smth only I would be interested in 😳

Mmm need to figure out a way for Magneto to be working with Makarov or smth... since they are both Iconic villains that ppl are familiar with.

Everyone in 141 is in awe of Logan because dude is ancient but he fits right in bc of his history in the military. Idk I just feel like Wolverine would blend in seamlessly with the group.

Soap and Gambit are partners in crime. Absolute jokesters, keeping everyone on their toes. They probably put grapes in the microwave together and annoy the hell out of everyone. It's all in good fun, of course, because even as there is collective eye rolling, both boys are loved by their friends. Ghost sees Gambit and just goes "fuck there's two of them..."

Nightcrawler scares the everloving fuck out of the others with his powers. Just teleporting around and jumpscarinf them all.

Soap: "steaming bloody Jesus..."

Nightcrawler: "nein. Just me : )"

I feel like Simon is a bit apprehensive of working with the xmen. The superpower thing adds too many variables that could put himself and the entire task force at risk. But he would warm up to his eclectic new companions in time.

I feel it'd be cute if Gaz was a bit of a fan boy in a way. Like he admires the xmen and is kind of a geek about just how mutant biology works? Idk he is a nerd to me.

Price and Logan would be two peas in a pod. Smoking cigars and exchanging war stories. Plus they both have iconic facial hair.

Okay yeah you will be the first to know if this becomes a fully fledged fic ♡♡♡♡ thank you for entertaining these fun ideas ♡♡♡

-🔪

I AM ABSOLUTELY ENAMORED BY THIS

I screeched when I saw you sent me this!!!!

Idk I feel like Magneto wouldn't like working with a terrorist... Like... He's bad but he's not THAT bad?? Idk might be me being silly about it

Also yes to Nightcrawler scaring the shit out of the lads (watch him jumpscaring Ghost once and never trying again because Ghost did his little elbow smack to the nose maneuver and he learned the hard way)

YES YES

Can't wait!!!!

Can't wait to hear all the ideas and headcanons and world building and just- yes.

Pls keep feeding me because I'm VERY MUCH enjoying it 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

#asks #🔪 anon