#yandere military soldier

[yandere-kokeshi]

yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost

— His Prey

Pairing: yandere childhood friend Simon x gn reader

Warnings: yandere behavior, slight spoilers for the comics; if you haven’t read it yet, I’d highly recommend reading it - stalking, implied family abuse, kidnapping(?), mentions of alcohol, hinting that the reader is slightly older, and smut.

Smut tags: dubcon, public sex(?), size kink, creampie (wrap it before you tap it!!), messy aftercare(?), and kidnapping?

A/N: I hope you enjoy this. This took so long and this is probably my favorite one. But I may take a break from smut, idk 🤷‍♂️

GIF IS NOT MINE || BELONGS TO @/sgt-gaz

You had been missing for years. Decades that seemed to last for millions for Ghost. As a kid, he’d imagine marriage and having kids - something that every kid admires at least once. 

It’s true, he did love you, you always took care of him and helped clean him up after every time he had himself a fuck up. Be it romance problems, money problems, or even family problems. You always struck out your head for him. So, why wouldn’t he look for you?

Your family gave up on you, for reasons that are now beyond him. For reasons that disgusted and angered him. 

On his fair share, he could understand what you had gone through. His family was also a mess, specifically his father - always screaming at anyone, especially at you whenever you came to visit. It was a mess. Just like he was and still is. 

But, when he got the news that you ran away; your loyal image distorted and tainted by your family’s grief and anger.

He was angry. He remembers jumping over fences, ignoring the pouring rain, and running to your home - not believing the words of his father, but when he knocked frantically, your drunken father answering with slurring words and the smell of cigarettes strong, he knew you had left.

Asking where you had gone, all your father did was shrug his shoulders. Talking down to you as a ‘pent-up bitch who deserved to leave’.

Those few nights in jail weren’t fun. He can still feel the blood on his knuckles. The bruises cracked his skin and made them bleed. To Simon, he was a lucky bastard to even still breathe. 

It hurts to be left behind, but Simon soon understood. For your own safety and happiness, you had to escape. He knew in his heart and soul that he’d find you again sooner or later. 

And when he did, he’d feel your hands hug him tightly. Hear that pretty voice of yours that was addicting to listen to, even if he didn’t know what you were talking about. Those times in your garage, listening to heavy rock and dancing to the embarrassing beats as you pulled him into a messy kiss. 

Those memories were precious to him. 

You two went your own ways. But now… he grasps the nice times he had with you. Comforting and safe times with you. The ones where he could run to your home - knocking on your window at midnight, covered in sweat from how fast he ran. Your embrace was the best for him.

Tightening his hold on the film in his hands, the one where you two are hugging from his graduation, days before you had left. He sighed; inhaling through his tight teeth, he jumped out of his truck and started walking towards the diner he knew so much about. 

You are his mission, for now, and until he dies. 

Ghost had gathered enough information about your cold trail to find you. Found a friendly woman on the way, one that was quite nice and oblivious to the dangers - a nice and gentle lady who had offered to give him the location where she had last seen you a few weeks ago. 

A sad but comforting word of, love goes a long way. I hope you find them. 

Thudding his worn boots against the pavement, he admired the morbidly dead-beat town; a few people passing by him, eyes staring at him as if he was an alien. But, what was weirder was that no kids were running around - no music or loud beeping of cars could be heard. 

Only the occasional noises of crickets and wind blowing against the covering of his hoodie. It was uncomfortable. 

Approaching the recognizable diner, the lights were flickering. The run-down neon lights of spotted letters buzzed ever so slightly, the humming could be easily mistaken as a wasp nest. The letters were barely hanging on, only having support from the strings above the window; swinging left to right as if it was a lullaby.  

The D and R had shut down completely, making the rest of entire letters seem bigger, a series of flickering flashes that made it as though threatening. 

But threatening didn‘t scare him. Not anymore at least. It was something he was used to it.

Coming inside, the loud but nostalgic ding! Was nice to hear. His eyes follow the insides of the booth, looking at the familiar retro commercials playing on the TVs and people munching on the greasy food, chugging cheap beer down their throats, and jazzed music playing in the background. 

The heavy smell of oily french fries and vanilla milkshakes burned into his nose. A familiar chase of reminiscent, made him shut his eyes as he sighed, stupidly.

What if you weren’t here? What if… all of this was a dream and he was still a beat-up kid? It was something he didn’t wanna think about, but with everything that’s happened - his family, his home, his mind a fucked up place; everything was possible.

Taking a deep but swift sigh, he reopened them, revealing a familiar face on the opposite side of the counter. It didn’t even take a second for him to know who it was. 

It’s you. Look at you…

Walking about, doing your job as you unknowingly noticed the man in a giant hoodie. He watched you walk from table to table - seeing your little notepad and the recognizable clicky pen you’ve somehow kept. The black and orange lines on it have yet faded. Didn’t he give you that in high school? 

You’ve… grown. Still cute as a darlin’. Addicting as ever. 

He saw you smile at your coworker - their voice going into the abyss of his mind. Your smile is so pretty. It still is. Your laugh too. It was way too genuine for this crappy and unsafe place; a place you shouldn’t even call home.

It gave him the chills. The way your voice was nothing but a gift. Such a gentle smile and laugh. Just like in the old times.

The memories hit him like a train. The photos and slow moments of spending most of the summer with you, running away from old men who were yelling at you for stealing candies at 7/11 - you were facetious and flirty, somehow always grabbing his hands, pulling him along to your mischievous plans. Then, it was fun. 

After all, in his mind, you were still the gorgeous partner he so loved. A love grew into need. A need that turned into years of searching and trying to find you again. 

But looking at you now, Ghost betted a few hundred bucks - that you’d look really nice with his tattooed arm around your throat - those lips promising to be good and treat him well. 

You always tasted amazing. Even whilst sweating or crying. 

Tonight, you were exactly what he was looking for: his soulmate. Sure, he didn’t believe in that kind of stuff, but he knew you were meant for him. You were everything he could ask for. 

Besides, with that adorable smile of yours, you were practically begging to be manhandled and thrust up against the brick walls behind the diner. For now, all he had to do was wait till you were off. And again, you were his mission after all. And he takes them very seriously. 

“Night, Rebecca!” You yelled, shutting the door behind you as you started walking towards your apartment. Pulling your jacket more into your figure, you cursed out loud. Jeez, did today have to be more exhausting? 

Maybe I could stop at the wine shop. It is Friday after all, you thought. As you continued to walk down the similar path to your apartment, you never noticed the large figure following right behind you. 

Though, you were always a bit naïve. Somethin’ that drew Simon in like a rope around a horse.

Suddenly, whilst you were walking, your phone slipped out of your pocket. The brutal hit of your phone screen smacking onto the concrete made you cringe. Your heart banged out of your chest as you immediately let out a wild yelp.

“Shit!” You blurted out, crouching down to pick it up. Though, as you went down, there was a rush of wind and suddenly you were hoisted by hands grabbing you by the waist. You screamed, trying to kick and hit whatever was behind you, whilst trying your best to ignore the anxiety spiraling in your chest and down your body.

The back of your head smacked against the stone of the wall. But before you could react, a hand was placed over your mouth as the stench of incense and light booze crawled into your nostrils; letting you take in the large yet dark figure in front of you which was leveled with the sight of a black hoodie and muscular arms. 

“Shh,” a gritty voice growled in your ear. “I won’t hurt you.”

Is this where you’re gonna die? Where the Fox News makes a case for your murder in cold blood?

It was then that you noticed the nature of the voice, the familiar smell of comfort waving in. Home. It smelled like home. 

Preparing yourself, you peeked up at the tall and masked man, barely reassuring yourself as the adrenaline of fright from being thrown into a dark alleyway and being held against the bricked wall was starting to sit in.

Though connecting eyes with the man, you released a gasp. Looking into those recognizable brown eyes you could remember anywhere.  

“Simon?”

It’s his eyes. Black holes. No stars. The face paint around his eyes burned into them like ash.

He could feel his heartbeat in his hands, a sudden reminder of his given name, sitting nearly forgotten at his hidden identity; whipped away with ‘Ghost’ and ‘The most Brutal Soldier’. 

Simon was no longer Simon. He was Ghost. A hulking behemoth of a man. Nothing but pumped full of adrenaline, a dexterity for killing. A cover-up from his messed up, a shit show of the past. 

“Holy shit…”

Your gaze made his heart ache. Watching how tears swelled up into them, how blown wide they were. All he wanted was to wipe those away and kiss them better. Comfort you the times you did to him when he’d come to you crying - feeling your small hands wrap around him and kiss his neck affectionately.

“I thought… your family and you–”

Your hands were shaking - fists clenching and unclenching as his hoodie near his chest. Your voice was shaking, almost like a doe-eyed deer trying to escape its predator; thriving at its very last breath as it tried to talk. But, nothing was coming out. All that was heard were hiccups and the slight pounder of cars driving by.

You sniffled, eyes flashing. The sweet look of concern on your adorable face. 

His hand went down, pulling away at his gloves before wiping your tears as more came down. Your hands, always delicate and soft, ascended to hover above his face, barely touching his skulled balaclava. He could feel his throat tighten - like a noose was secured around it. Threatening to yang the weapon if he dared to speak.

“Can… I pull it down?”

You expected a harsh no. A quiet negative answer. You could tell he was wearing it for a reason. Hiding something that he didn’t want you or anyone else to see. It squeezed your heart - uncertainty piling into your stomach. 

Though, when his fingers curled around the bottom of the balaclava - pulling up and off the mask, your throat went dry.

So much has changed since you were kids, the Simon you once knew: the soft chubbed cheek and rounded smile was now scarred. Everything on his face was bumped, unmetrical. Dry and harsh. Something you’d never expect from your Simon. 

“H-how…” You asked, reaching him to touch his warm cheek - your fingers grazing over his littered cheek of scars. He almost didn’t look like the Simon you knew years ago. His eyes and hair stayed the same. But the rest of him didn’t. The tattoos, his demeanor, the scars, the littered marks all over his body and hands that were once soft and hot to touch. Instead of being the scrawny kid he once was, he was now… big and intimidating. 

“I know. Not the proudest moment to introduce again,” He chuckled, his giant hands grabbing yours and tightening his hold. He pulled them up to his lips, taking a moment to look into your eyes before kissing your knuckles.

“I won’t let anything hurt ya’ anymore, okay?” He stated, his hand letting go of yours and wrapping them around the curves of your hips, pulling you closer towards him as he pushed his face into your hair, inhaling a sharp sigh. 

“Simon. How did you…?” You ushered out, laying your forehead on his chest as you waited for his answer.  Simon — took an agonizingly long minute to reply, his hands tightening around your hips as you wrapped your arms around his lower back, feeling more tears rolling down your face. 

“It’s a long story, doll.” He stated, digging his face deeper into your hair as you felt your stomach twist and turn into butterflies. 

You detach yourself from his chest, looking up at him as your lips quivered. “I- don’t understand Simon. How are you…?”

“How what, sweetheart?” He looked down at you, his hand going up to your chin, quickly wiping the tears that fell as he patiently waited for your answer. 

“Your father- he…”

Suddenly, Simon growled out. His grip on your hips tightened, making you grimace loudly. “Don’t. He doesn’t matter. What… happened years ago doesn’t matter right now.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Shh- it’s fine. Jus’... You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He danced his fingers up your chest, making their way to your sternum. Slowly he unbuttoned your shirt, making sure to take his time as his lips attached to your neck, leaving a few marks that he intends to stay. 

“S-imon,” Your words were a little above a whisper, peppered with high-pitched gasps that seemed to be enjoyed by the man in front of you; his lips kissing your ear, jaw, and neck. Slowly making his way down to your stomach.

“I know. Me too,” He chuckled, fully unbuttoning your shirt, and pulling it off as it fell onto the floor. “Been waitin’ the right time, for you to become mine again. I promise I won’t be too mean.” 

A whine blanked your mind, feeling his hands knead at your soft skin, cupping your arse under his fingers as he dropped your pants onto the floor. “Fuck, n-not here please.” Though, Simon’s answer was a harsh one as you felt something hard poking you on your thigh.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fast then we can leave, yah’?” His chest touched yours, and with his strong hands, he gripped your thighs and hiked you up onto his hips, knocking your knees together which prompted you to wrap and tighten your legs around his waist. 

Your hands fisted his hoodie on his shoulder, “What are you—!” 

A moan was let out as you felt his fingers dip beneath your briefs, teasing your core as you cried out; feeling him hit that spot that made your knees go weak. “Oh gosh-” you gasped.

Simon drew his face closer to yours and kissed you. The taste of alcohol and tangy smoke blended in with your breath as he kissed you so sweet that you never wanted it to end - your moan being muffled as his tongue explored your cave. 

Your fingers traveled from his shoulders up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you two hungrily fought for a truce; fighting the urge to smile as he groaned from your sly fingers. 

Finally, you two separated for air - heaving deeply as you two looked into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, you felt his fingers push up inside you in a twirling motion. You groaned and writhed beneath him, and as you did, your thigh pushed against his groin.

His harsh breath that blew onto you had goosebumps rise across your skin.

“I need you.” he rasped. 

You reached your hand down to slide your hand inside his pants to grip his erect cock. You swallow the words that wanted to come out, feeling how your fingers barely touch around the width of him. Jesus, how could anyone have this size? 

You rub your thumb over the tip. He’s leaking pre-cum and when your nails grazed his sensitive head, he shivered. By the time you had removed your fingers, bringing them up to your lips, his hands were already finishing unbuttoning his belt and undoing his zipper; freeing his cock.

He was thick, with a bulbous base. He had building veins. Some on the underlining of his cock, outlining the leaking pre-come, rolling down the length of his cock. He also had a happy trail, a sagittal one that was very attractive. 

You ached to feel him inside you, but when you reached down, he shook his head. “Let me taste ya’ first.”

Taking a minute, you nodded, and he took your hips in both of his giant hands; adjusting your position up onto his shoulders, letting your legs hang off them. He then lowered his mouth to your body, kissing and nipping down to your V-line, then worked his tongue and teeth to pull down your undergarment as he came to the sensitive skin where your thigh met your pelvis. 

He kissed you there sweetly, breathing in your tainted-sweat skin and scent. Infuriatingly ignoring where you wanted to be touched most. 

He groans out your name. Spilling it out like a love spell.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he started to work his tongue over and around you. Circling, sucking, caressing. Taking in your taste like a wolf with its mate.

At first, Simon only kept his left hand on your thigh, watching you unravel from his mouth — bucking upwards into his mouth, seeing you moan out as he growled against you, sending vibrations to your core. His nails dug deeply into your thighs, adding a counterpoint to the intense sensations of his tongue and lips as he made sure you whined out.

It took you a pretty short time before he brought you breathless, pushing you over to the edge with his tongue and hands. The rough fingers of his, the depth of penetration of his tongue, and the wet noises made you go boneless. 

Yet, he still didn’t move the heat of his mouth from your hole while you came, admiring how your body clung to the concrete wall and his head for support as your shouts echoed throughout the alleyway. He cleaned you more with his tongue — relishing the taste of you.

“Fucking hell.” he grunts.

He departed himself from the mess he had caused - giving you a quick peck before he hiked you back onto his hips, moving your legs around his lower back as he lowered his slick cock between your parted legs, breathing hard.

“I need you, darlin’,” He growled in your ear.

You panted, nodding slowly as your vision was barely picking up - already overstimulated from how long it has been since anyone else has made you cum quite violently. 

His breath was hot. Breathing directly down to your collarbone as he nudged the hot tip of his cock against your entrance. He’s too big, his blunt head snags against your entrance. You breathe through your nose, brow furrowing as you tighten your eyes closed. 

“Jesus Christ,” He hissed as he bucks, clearly impatient, needing more as he feels the clutch of your sex. 

“Easy.. please,” You try, feeling him draw your forehead against his, the sweaty skin rubbing against each other as you two share the love you two once shared - an act of surface, awaiting till it boils over.

“Fuck,” he mutters in your ear. 

You cling to him, desperate and a little dizzy. He’s so big and you’re so full, packed to the very brim as his cock drags against your sensitive walls; you feel his nose press into your cheek, his mouth sliding against your jaw as he grinds into you.

“Ss’good,” he utters quietly, “Fuck, I love ya’ so much.”

You cried out in pleasure - clenching down at his shoulders as you bit your finger. His hips and cock punching against the furthest part of your core. He releases a deep groan of pleasure at your sheer tightness.

“More!” You rasped out, grabbing his cheek and kissing him. He parted his lips and let your tongue taste his mouth. You tasted yourself - but you didn’t mind. All you cared about was Simon. Your Simon. 

He plants his feet deeper into the concrete, beginning to really fuck you. Positioning his hips and slamming up inside you until the sound of only your soaked hole swallowing him repeatedly along with slapping skin bouncing off the walls.

It’s overwhelming. The heavy smell of rain. The smell of sex and the sounds of raspy groans. Squelchy noises of your hole being brutally hit as your thighs are turning raw. It’s rasp and chafe. But you were enjoying it. Enjoying every bit of it.  

“Fuckin’ hell,” he hushed out, his hips snapping more. “Feels so good.”

He began to move deeper, harder, sharper. You clutched at his giant arms, your legs tightening around his waist as his hips cracked more. You felt his muscles tighten, a slight warning of him crashing down to his peak. 

Your toes curled. Entwining up with the sensations spreading all over your body, pounding at your sensitive ears. You could hear everything. Feel everything. Taste everything. 

He’s reclaiming you. His hips fully abusing your hips and thighs. His groans and tightened jaw were a sight to see. His eyes shut closed as his body tightened up. 

“Come for me.” he says, “I know you need to, love.” 

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Yet another pleasure crash came over you, consuming you again, and at that, with a bellow that shook to your very core, your orgasm took you by surprise with a scream.

His voice lowers down. His hips sped up even more as your toes curled and head rolled back - eyes seeing white. Your nails dug into his back. 

You felt Simon stiffen. The warmth of his spent filling you. His hips spasmed and jerked, his jaw clenching with a long groan, his eyes screwed shut as you felt hot liquid rush inside you, stuffing you full. Even as he pressed his hips tightly against yours, still grinding at the pleasure, you were a moaning mess. 

When he finished, he let out a soft sigh. Still sitting inside you, he prepped kisses all over your neck, sliding his tongue with your sweaty skin and dug his nose into it. You felt him mumble some words, but you paid no attention. 

Slowly pulling back, making sure to not overwhelm you, he let you back on the ground. Simon had his hands on your waist, ensuring you were still there - almost as if he loosened his grip, even by a grain of salt, you’d disappear. 

“That was…” You went to say something, but with dopamine and adrenaline still coursing through your veins, your brain was left blank - possibly melting. 

Simon chuckled, leaning over to kiss your forehead before looking you directly in the eye. “You okay?” 

You nodded, “Jus’ tired and cold.”

He nodded, adjusting his pants and getting dressed. Belting his pants back up before crouching down to grab your clothes that were thrown on the floor. Standing back up, he handed them to you.

“You should get dressed,” He said. 

“Not in the mood to stain my clothes,” You laughed, running your fingertips over your collarbone that was stained with sweat. Simon looked down between your legs, before looking behind you as you felt your cheeks heat up. 

“You need to get dressed.” He grabbed the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it off of him as he prompted you to raise your arms. Nonetheless, Simon’s smell gave you an undying amount of comfort. Shoving your arms through the sleeves, he helped you get your head through the top hole before adjusting the bottom of the fabric, making sure it covered you whole. 

And that it did. You marvel at how large the damn hoodie is, your fingertips barely peeking at the ends of the sleeves and the end of the hoodie covering most of your thighs. It was astonishing.

“Hey, where’s my—!” Before you could finish the question about your phone, you yelped - feeling yourself get picked off the ground. You were picked up by Ghost, being rested in his arms as he held you with such care. Making sure you were comfortable before resting your head on his chest. 

You could feel his heart thumping - picking a beat at the sound of drums. Like tapping your fingers at your desk as you studied a book scenario. It was comforting.  

“Why– where are we going?” You asked, looking up at him with a face of confusion as he adjusted his mask; his eyes peering down at you from the balaclava.  

“M’ taking you home.” He stated, his hands curling more around your body. 

You blinked at him, surprised. 

“Home? You don’t even know where my apartment is. How would you—?”

“—You’re gonna stay with me,” he clarifies, ducking his head as the both of you started walking away from the alleyway. Slight embarrassment rises in your cheeks as you realized you just fucked in an alleyway. Not the first time with him.

You huffed out an annoyed sigh, you replied with a quick answer, “That’s not what I meant. Where are we going?”

There was only silence after that, and you had worried that maybe you pushed too far. Possibly angered him. After calling his name twice and no answer coming forward, you decided to quit asking. 

You slid your arms around his neck, paying no attention to your surroundings. Unintentionally, you dug your face into his shoulder, taking a deep inhale before you listened to the wind; admiring how quiet it was.

Surely, you could see a smug smirk trail against Simon’s face - but you paid no attention. You were tired. Exhausted at best.

Suddenly, you heard a car; a truck gets unlocked from behind you. You were prompted to look, but when you got sight of the black Chevy truck, suddenly the door being opened by Simon and you being placed in the passenger seat beside the driver, you slumped into the seat.

You waited for him to climb in. Hearing the backdoor to your left open and shut loudly before you heard him get in. He shuffled in his seat, reaching over to buckle in his seatbelt before looking in your direction.

“Here.”

You looked at his hand, a huge white wool blanket being handed to you. You grabbed it, the fabric practically melting into your fingers. It was so soft. And smelled like him too.

You heard Simon chuckle at your reaction before starting up the truck, turning down the radio to ensure you were comfortable. He put on the heaters - readjusting the way of direction to blow so it could puff directly at you.

“Tomorrow, we’ll stop and get your stuff. From now on, you’ll stay with me.”

You nodded. Not saying anything. But when you tucked into the blanket around your form, making sure it covered your shoulders and legs, you felt his hand move over, gripping your thigh as he squeezed three times; his way of saying, ‘I love you’. 

It made you smile. Turning your sight over to look into the side mirror, you watched as your town got further away. The lights turned into small gusts of balls as you watched the road become thinner and thinner. Before turning into nothing but a small pan of memories. 

You lay there a long time, just listening to the sound of the music and the occasional blinking of the car to signal changing lanes. It was until you found yourself slipping into sleep right after a few minutes. Turned out you’d missed the contact as much as he had. It was probably for the best, that you stayed with him for a while. 

Not that he’d let you go.

—

My masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

#kokeshi!! #yandere simon 'ghost' riley #yandere simon riley #yandere ghost #yandere ghost x reader #yandere military soldier #yandere soldier #yandere x reader #yandere blog #yandere male #male yandere #yandere smut #yandere #yandere mw2 #yandere cod #yandere call of duty #yandere x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #yandere x you #yandere x gender neutral reader #mw2 smut #mw2 ghost #ghost mw2 #the icons are not mine #they belong to their rightful owners #yandere x y/n #yandere x curvy reader #yandere x darling #yandere x willing reader #ghost modern warfare

[wri0thesley]

nat nat oml i cannot get this thought of my HEAD

i never thought id end up liking any of the harbingers (except for childe, signora, n scara) but im weak. ive been violently reminded of my mortal weaknesses and they are all in the form of the more "knightly" harbingers, such as arlecchino and capitano, with darling that is essentially their "nurse" when dottore is too busy to actually look after them when they return from missions. i am thinking!! of them creating soft daydreams where the blood permanently stained on their hands do not taint you when they touch!! where you come, docile and willing and so so trusting to them with your heart in your hands, asking them to save you from the cruel doctor!! i am thinking of them slowly but surely losing their knightly facades in agonizing increments the longer they daydream about you and the life you two (will never) share!!

delusional harbingers fully convinced that darling is as in love with them as they are,,, violent hands that try for a facsimile of gentleness as they wipe your fearful tears away from eyes theyve longed to trace and stare into for ages,,, them asking you in low, crooning voices to forgive them, love, for taking so long while they have you cornered in some cold corner of the tsaritsa's grand palace, shaking and wondering just how you, one faceless fatui grunt out of many, ended up here

ah . . . there is something so so sexy about the knight and the one they have sworn to protect (even if darling does not particularly want to be protected by them!). arlecchino, at least, would make it clear what she was doing - she acts so polite and graceful but has made it very clear she has little time for those she sees as politicians. she wouldn't beat around the bush with you!

but capitano . . . oh. he doesn't know how to say it to you; he's a knight, a war machine, a captain . . . he does not deal usually in love and flowers and graceful poetry. so his protection of you seems almost frightening at times. appearing just when dottore is about to scold you for some business done incorrectly, looming over the second harbinger (the only harbinger who outranks dottore). asking you in a brusque, low voice if everything is okay whilst you violently tremble and wonder if the captain is about to make a lesson out of you--

even as capitano imagines cradling you, touching you, telling you that he will take care of you for as long as you live, and you desperately wish you'd made better provisions for what should occur after your death.

#local Military Soldier Captain fucks up romance more at eleven #nat.txt #yandere for ts #genshin impact posting #he wants to protect you from cads like dottore!!! you are wishing dottore was here to give you an excuse to run.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Heroes To Villains

DILF Yandere Superheroes x Gender Neutral Superhero Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, minor violence, gratuitous amount of firearms, super powers, super soldiers, spitroasting, general yandere behavior, bratty reader Word Count: 3.8k (I am sorry this took a bit for me to get to, only took a few hours to write though. I hope you guys love it. Feel free to tip if you do~)

The city you were stationed in was under attack by some fairly destructive super villains. They were either traitors born of the same government program that had produced you and the other super soldiers you worked with or they were sent by another country to attack the retired super agents of your country. Though it was also possible they were a rogue foreigner with a vendetta. All the people making up your squad had been in the military and had made significant enemies.

Their goals did not really matter so much at the moment. It was more important that they were defeated before they caused any casualties.

There were two of them. One of them with an ability to lash out with streams of fire and smoke and another that could jump up really fast and high before slamming down and causing a large explosion on impact.

They were no match for you and your comrades. Red and Ace had handled much worse threats than these two with ease. Ace had been a top pilot before undergoing medical experimentation that left him with angel-like wings and the ability to shoot energy blasts from his hands. The man was like a living B-52. And Red was basically a human tank. Very little could so much as scratch his skin and he had tremendous physical strength.

Both of them had soared through the ranks and had distinguished themselves as competent generals in the last great war. Now they were retired and used their abilities as super soldiers to become heroes and protect the capital from the strange threats that had been unleashed during war time. Mostly the occasional villain. Sometimes a mutant animal.

You had just been a simple medic. Nothing too fancy, but you had hesitantly taken the opportunity to go through experiments that would allow you to heal others much more effectively and without the need for invasive surgery. Most of the super soldiers gained a unique ability and also became more resilient to damage and agile.

And you had gotten those perks too, but not to the degree as everyone else. Though you had gotten an extra ability that most people lacked. Hyper accurate aim with long distance weapons. But you also suffered a drawback when compared to your peers. You got exhausted easily, having very little stamina.

Who could forget the time you had saved the city by firing the railroad gun at the giant robot that used mutated biological components in its construction? Firing a 19,000 pound shell and obliterating an entire giant robot with one perfectly executed shot had been amazing.

You longed for that kind of usefulness again. But currently you were a bit bored, as a long range support unit you frequently hung back a bit. Red and Ace normally cleared everything up themselves without having need of your abilities.

Ace had plucked the hopper from the sky and injected him with a serum that would knock him out cold until he could be taken into custody where his abilities would be removed completely, if they could be. Red had similarly taken out the fire user who had discovered that his searing flames did little more than make Red sweat a bit.

They regrouped together before they started walking back to you, each carrying the limp weight of an unconscious enemy on their shoulders. It would be a few minutes before they got to the rendezvous.

You heard the gruff voice of Red on your comm line.

“We got em’ On our way back now.”

“Affirma-”

You were cut off by a sudden shift underground followed by a woman jumping up from the earth below you and punching you hard enough to launch you several feet.

There had been a third and they had split up to take you on individually.

As you fell through the air you took out your side arm and fired every round in rapid succession. Each one aimed for her heart. Each one hit their mark. But when you hit the ground you had smacked your head pretty hard and the world faded to black.

You woke up in a medical bed in the basement of your headquarters. You were quite dizzy and you felt like you were certainly going to vomit.

You held your hands to your head and your palms flashed.

Much better. If you hadn’t been knocked out you would have simply been able to heal whatever injuries you had sustained in a flash. Oh well you were better now.

Ace walked in to check on you right as you had been getting up. He burst into a smile at seeing you awake. His blue eyes full of joy.

“Hey runt! Glad to see that you’re getting up and about!”

“Who’s a runt!?”

He flexed his biceps to drive the point in.

“Red, get in here, The runt is up!”

You heard his loud steps reverberate upstairs as he bounded towards the basement door and came rushing down.

“It’s been five days, we were beginning to really worry about you, squirt.”

He was smiling but you could tell his red eyes held a lot of concern in them. It seemed like there was something he wanted to say but didn’t know how.

“Well, no need to worry. I am not as fragile as a regular person. And I am fully healed now.”

“Yeah… but you weren’t hit by a normal person. And you aren’t as durable as most of us…”

That was Ace.

“Yeah, yeah, I will be more careful, okay? I know my limits. I don’t need a lecture. I took the enemy down and I am okay now so we don’t need to linger on it.”

Ace put his hand to his face and his wings quivered in annoyance as they often do when he tries to lecture you and you just won’t have it.

You rolled your eyes and finally Red spoke up.

“This isn’t the first time you have gotten hurt on the field. Even with precautions like staying back you still end up injured!”

“What’s your point? It's a battle, injuries happen. At least I can heal.”

Ugh, an Ace lecture you were used to. You didn’t need both of them nagging at you.

You rolled your eyes as Red continued.

“Have you ever considered… going into another career? You volunteer at the hospital… maybe you could do that full time?”

That did it.

“Excuse me? I wasn’t in any command position, but I was a trained soldier all the same! I think I can handle myself!”

You stormed away from them and went up the stairs, slamming the door behind you. Assholes. Who were they to tell you what you should consider doing? It was your life and if you wanted to use it fighting genetically enhanced monsters and super-criminals then that was your right to do so.

It would become evident in the future that this incident was where everything started to go wrong. Going forward in battle they always had at least one of them at your side whenever it was physically possible for them to do so.

When you were eventually still injured even with that precaution, even though it was minor, they pressured you again to quit being a hero. They thought maybe you just were too attached to them to leave so they even suggested that you could still be their medic but you would stay on at the base. You could even still operate the railroad rifle that could fire shells from miles away whenever a large foe approached the city.

But you wouldn’t have it. Fuck them. You told them that if you had to form a new squad in a new city then you would do so.

They frantically apologized immediately so they let it go.

It was unfathomable that they would ever allow you to do such a thing. Go off where they couldn’t protect you even a little? Where some inexperienced whelp of a leader would surely get you killed? Not a chance!

But neither could they allow you to remain a front line combatant. Not after the injuries and not with how easily you became fatigued when exerting yourself.

The solution was ugly, but it was what it was. You left them no other option for your own safety.

Though it would make them criminals themselves they had to do it for your own good. They had to keep you here with them where you would be safe and secure. They could turn the base’s AI defenses to keep you here and make sure that you were safe. They could also have it alert them through their comms if you there was any trouble while they were on a mission.

You were laying on your bed with your hands behind your head. You stared at your ceiling and contemplated all that you had been through. The war, seeing comrades on the battlefield ripped apart with no way to save them as they bled out in agony. You had to protect people from that in every way that you could, and if you did die on the battlefield then that was fine by you.

The intrusion of Red and Ace barging into your room out of nowhere pulled you from your thoughts and you regarded them both with a scowl.

“What NOW!? Can’t you guys at least knock? I mean seriousl-”

Ace cut you off with a hand gesture for silence before Red spoke up.

“Listen squirt… we decided something. We can’t allow you to join us on the field anymore…”

“Didn’t you just apologize for saying that after I threatened to leave? Whatever, I am out of here!”

You hopped up to gather your belongings and set out at once, the mere sight of the two heroes making you want to go on a rampage, but Red pushed you back onto the bed, then Ace picked up where Red had left off.

“Well that’s not all, runt. We also decided… you can’t leave here either…”

You started laughing. It had to be some kind of joke. But the tension that filled the room told you otherwise. You looked from Red to Ace and the empty expression from Ace and the guilty one from Red told you that they were deadly serious.

You grabbed your sidearm and launched yourself at Ace, you weaved past Red and twirled yo get behind Ace and held your arm around his neck with your gun aimed at his head. You didn’t speak a word, your intention clear.

There was no way you would be kept here.

You couldn’t go for Red as small arms fire would bounce off of him, but at point blank range Ace was toast. You backed out of the room, pulling Ace along with you. He cooperated fully. Even a pair of overprotective psychos didn’t want their brains blown out.

Out of nowhere a robotic arm emerged from one of the sockets in the walls. It seized your gun and then Ace flipped your positions with him behind you.

They had reprogrammed the defenses of the base to not allow you to have a weapon. These two were not former generals for nothing. They knew how their adversary, you, would react.

You slammed your foot down on Ace’s and smacked your head behind him to hit his nose. Such weak attacks did nothing to dislodge you from his ironclad grasp.

“Stop this childish behavior and just accept things. This is for your own good. If anything this little outburst has proven that you need to be protected because you certainly cannot control your emotions!”

Red was in front of you, still looking at you with that guilty expression.

“I’ll go get your weapons from your room.”

Ace and you watched in the doorway as Red got a sack and rummaged through every single inch of your private space to look for what was now contraband.

“Come on! If you are going to keep me here at least don’t go invading my privacy like this!”

Much to your embarrassment you actually cried a bit as the large man went through all your things.

He started by removing your pistols from your weapon’s display case. Your Beretta M9, your SIG Sauer P320, you… dear god no… not your baby, not your Magnum Research BFR!

You thrashed more as you saw him take that one.

Then he moved on to your bookshelf. He took out your religious text from the shelf.

“Hey, keep your grubby mitts off of that! It’s sacred!”

“Yeah, Red, don’t you think you should focus o-”

He opened it revealing that it had been cut out and housed one of your many sidearms.

“Of course,” Ace said flatly.

When Red finished with all your pistols he moved on to the ones mounted on your wall. Your Mauser M 98, your Browning BLR, and your little Marlin 70PSS.

The rest of the search was much the same. All but one had been found. Red had to get a second bag for them all. The ones in your desk, under your bed, and the one in your mattress.

Well at least they hadn’t found your most precious gun-child…

“Okay I think I got them all. Nowhere else to search. Be truthful, did I miss any?”

You wiped the tears out of your eyes and lied convincingly. You tried to look as defeated as you could.

“No”

Ace moved the two of you out of the way so Red could take your weaponry to the armory. As he started to leave the room he noticed his footsteps sounded odd in one place.

He pressed his large foot down in the spot a few times, narrowing his eyes.

Fuck.

He bent down and realized he could remove the floor board under the rug in that spot.

He found it, the bag unzipped and your M1 Garand joined the rest of your firearms.

“NOOOO!!! That one is my favorite! It PINGS when you use it!”

Now you were truly defeated, they had gotten every single one of them…

“Holy fuck, how many did you need??”

Ace joined in.

“Yeah that’s all a bit… much…”

“If your only offensive power came from guns then you would make sure to have one near you at all times in case of infiltration or emergencies…”

Ace sighed and let you return to your bed in peace. Or what peace could be had in your glorified prison.

Later in the evening they knocked on your door.

“Hey, we made your favorite food for dinner! And made your favorite dessert too…”

That was Red, you could hear the nervousness in his voice. He knew you would hate him now. You ignored them.

“Come on, don't be like this, you have to eat!”

And that was Ace, insisting that not complying with his psychopathic behavior was childish.

You opened the door and took the food tray. Both of them smiled.

“There, see? We can all still get along. We worked very hard on that meal for you!”

You were sure that they had, they were both skilled cooks. You stared at them expressionless and slammed the tray into their faces before slamming the door.

Ace looked furious but Red held him back.

“Come on Ace… they just need to adjust…”

But you refused to adjust. You ate only when they were out of the house. As the days went by you didn’t speak a single solitary word to either of them, you may as well have been a ghost.

Well… it would have been. Had you not been doing your best to make them the two most miserable men on the planet. You destroyed all the toilet paper, clogging every toilet in the base with it, you destroyed the fridge twice, you broke the TV, tore the couch, the robotic arms stopped you, of course, but you could manage to do a bit of damage each time before it stopped you.

Even Red was getting annoyed with your behavior.

They had both tried everything to get you to behave. Punishments ranging from not eating anything but flavorless oatmeal for days to being forced to sleep in a bed with one of them so they could make sure you didn’t cause any destruction while they slept.

Finally they had had enough, things could not continue on like this and it seemed like you may never open your eyes and see that they were just trying to keep you safe. Without them you’d have ran right into the jaws of danger.

They discussed it among themselves and had one more idea. You needed to feel loved in every possible way. They loved you so much after all, that’s what all this had been about, to protect you because they cared for you. But clearly they needed to step things up a notch or ten.

When they came home that day they barged into your room and grabbed you, taking you kicking and screaming into one of the many spare rooms the base had.

They had outfitted it with a huge bed, the walls painted your favorite color, fresh roses filled a heart shaped vase on the nightstand.

“Let go of me! What did you drag me here just to give me a newer bigger room? A prison is still a prison…”

“It’s going to be…” Red started.

“Our love… nest…” Ace finished, blush evident on his face.

“No thanks. Fucking weirdos.”

“Come on, sex is known to alleviate one’s mood!”

“Yeah, just give it a chance”

Ace smashed his lips into yours and kissed you deeply, you looked at him stunned.

They were serious… You wanted to wretch… Fervently you struggled, trying to get out of Red’s grip but he handed you off to Ace who wrapped his wing around you and led you to the bed.

They took your clothing off before moving on to your own. All of you had scars due to combat and training, and you had seen them nude in the showers before, but this was different. For the first time you felt vulnerable and scared under their combined gaze.

You covered your genitals but they each removed and held one arm so they could appreciate the view. “Come on, don’t be like that. Nothing we haven’t seen before,” Ace whispered as he spread your legs apart.

“Red, did you bring the lube?”

“Yeah, right here.”

Red opened a bottle and lathered both of their growing cocks so that they were drenched with the stuff and then pressed some to your hole and massaged it in. They had no intention of letting this be a painful experience for you. They wanted to show how much they cared about you.

You tried to clench. To close yourself off from them. But the probing fingers would not be denied. You squirmed uncomfortably at the sensation of cold lube being worked into you.

“Try to relax, it will be much better if you embrace us.”

“FUCK YO-”

Red cut you off with a kiss. You tried to bite his tongue but his tongue was no more vulnerable than the rest of his body.

Two sets of hand roamed and pet, and groped your body. Gently caressing you as Red made out with you. When they felt as if they had explored every part of your body they flipped you on to your belly, with Red on his knees in front of you. His crotch level with your face.

Ace was behind you on his knees between your legs, holding them still as he wedged himself closer to your entrance, until the tip of his cock was kissing it.

You couldn’t kick because he had control of your legs. You couldn’t punch because Red had your arms pinned. Now they just had to plug your bratty mouth and you wouldn’t have any means of protest. Verbal or otherwise.

They knew you’d try to bite so Red took your mouth, claiming it with his cock. You tried to move and turn away but once Ace sank his cock into your sensitive depths you gasped in surprise so Red took the chance to put his cock in your soft mouth. He did not go in balls deep, neither of them had yet. They wanted you to enjoy it. To relax. Not worry about being hurt or gagged.

Red humped into your mouth carefully and slowly while Ace did the same behind you.

“Damn, for someone so opposed to it you fit me so well.”

Then Ace added, “Your mouth feels amazing babe. He used his thumb to draw lazy circles into your arms where he held them down. He sighed in pleasure when he felt the pleasured moans Ace was coaxing out of you. Much to your dismay.

But you couldn’t deny that it felt nice. Your body relaxed, just a bit, as the men slowly bred a bit of the stress you had been under out of it.

Now that it seemed that you were enjoying yourself, even though reluctantly, Ace decided he could speed up just a bit, rolling his hips as his cock dug further into you.

Red was going a bit faster too now that you had acclimated and stopped trying to resist so hard. He let your arms go, sure that you had finally realized how silly fighting was. The large man stroked your cheek as he continued thrusting into those sweet lips.

Ace was the first to cum, his wings outstretching fully and deep voice gasping as his large nuts filled you with wave after wave of his seed. His large cock twitched inside of you, pushing you over the edge and into your own orgasm.

Feeling all your muffled cries of pleasure right in his prick caused Red to start cumming. He pulled out, not wanting to choke you on his copious amount of semen that he knew all super soldiers produced in spades, instead cumming all over your face.

Ace pulled out of you and was the first to speak.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You didn’t respond, you were still panting from the workout you had just received. You didn’t protest when Ace pulled you into his lap and held you with your head nestled into his chest. Your head laying right on his hawk tattoo. You didn’t protest when red scooted beside him and kissed you tenderly on the forehead. You even let them clean you up and feed you your favorite meal that they diligently cooked for you while you waited politely on the couch. They figured your resistance to them before was just because you had needs that weren’t getting met.

And from that day forward they knew that anytime you got too snarky or rebellious all they had to do was make time to fuck the brattiness out of you.

#yandere x reader #yandere boyfriends #male yanderes x reader #yandere men #yandere #yandere superheroes #gender neutral reader #male yanderes x gender neutral reader #My OCs #My OC Red #My OC Ace #Military Yandere

[youryanderedaddy]

Royalty/Military/Fantasy

Yandere!Prince

Yandere!General

Yandere!Butler x Princess!Reader

A war on my mind

Caged bird  Summary: When your prince finally catches you, you are forced to see things his way.

Red eternity pt.1  Summary: Something went terrible wrong between you and your step - brother, now your past is back to haunt you both.

Red eternity pt.2 

We all fall down

For you are all I have Yandere! communist leader x former princess! reader

The First Shot Is A Warning - chapter i, chapter ii, chapter iii, chapter iv, chapter v, chapter vi, chapter vii, chapter viii, chapter ix, chapter x, chapter xi

A man in love Possessive 19th century husband

Yandere! Sun Prince sun prince x moon princess reader

Yandere!Bodyguard

Yandere!Enemy prince Summary: You were an assassin, assigned to kill the prince while disguised as his fiancee. It didn't go as planned.

Love, Loss, Fire yandere! vampire pt.1

Give, Take, Borrow yandere! vampire pt.2

Yandere!Dragon

Yandere!Fairytale

Yandere!Soldier

#masterlist #too many links now #so i'm splitting it into 2 #yandere #male yandere

[killerpancakeburger]

Bluebeard's wife

SUMMARY: On a visit to your boyfriend, you end up having to deal with a creep on base, but Soap and Ghost's methods of resolving your problem are... far more drastic than yours.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader (and BFF!Ghost)

TAGS: Dark content, Badass!Reader, Established relationship, Dark! a bit yandere! Soap, Dark! a bit yandere! Ghost.

WARNINGS: Canon violence, blood mention, sexual harassment, insults. Soap and Ghost are acting creepy but not towards Reader.

WORDS COUNT: 1,1k words.

A/N: Was thinking about how high the risks of sexual assault are in the military for women + about how much the Task Force could get away with (Soap's mohawk is NOT standard issue lol), but it turned out kinda dark. Not my usual kind of content. This is my first time writting those characters, pls be indulgent.

Your elbow connects with the man’s nose with a satisfying crack.

Immediately he howls, pressing his broken nose with one hand, blood dripping between his fingers.

“FUCK! What the fuck! You broke my nose, you crazy bitch!”

This. This is why you didn’t want to meet the Task Force on base. There was always one brainless fucker who didn’t get the memo that, no, despite having breasts, you weren’t here as a comfort woman.

The private is glaring at you with a hatred as deep as it is sudden, one that screams murder.

The only good side of the situation is, with how loud he’s being, you won’t even need to call for help. Already most of the soldiers nearby are staring at you, muttering among themselves. Not that you can’t beat this guy up on your own, but the military tends to frown upon civilians roughing up their members, you learned it at your expense quite early. On the other hand, soldiers settling accounts between each other was… well, not exactly authorized, but it was way less trouble for you.

He grabs you by the collar, his rage only exacerbated by your composure. The action stains your clothing with his blood. You mentally grimace. You’re no stranger to blood, but the idea of this repulsive individual’s bodily fluids being anywhere on your person is disgusting. 

“Are you listening, you dumb bitch!? I’m gonna fucking kill-”

The venom-filled verbal onslaught stops dead as a hand takes hold of your assailant’s wrist.

“Now, now, at ease, soldier. Ya making a spectacle of yourself.”

The thickly accented voice of your boyfriend sends a wave of warmth in your chest. 

Your harasser hesitates a second too long, so Soap makes the decision for him, tightening his grasp until the soldier winces, and finally takes the hint, letting you go and taking a few steps backward. Johnny immediately positions himself between the two of you, shielding you.

He’s been smiling the whole time, but it’s the kind of dangerous smile you wear when you’re about to give an asshole a righteous beating.

The private looks partially sheepish, but not defeated, indignation burning in his eyes. He lets loose a torrent of justifications and excuses, actively painting you as the villain, not caring if he contradicts himself in the process. You don’t pay attention to the details of his speech. It’s always the same “she was asking for it” kind of diatribe. The fact that he sincerely believes that there’s a chance that Soap will take his side instead of yours is laughable, but not surprising. 

You wonder how long this will go on, until the private notices something next to you, and all blood seems to desert his face as his voice deserts his vocal cords. 

You turn your head and, to no surprise to you, Ghost is there. He stands so close to you that your arms are almost touching. Clothed entirely in black, which brings out the white skull on his mask, his presence is as menacing as ever; all he needs to do is scowl at lesser soldiers to make them cower in fear. He doesn’t look back at you, but his support for you is so obvious through the rest of his behavior that he doesn’t need to.

Soap takes advantage of the newfound silence to turn to you.

“Ya good, yeah?” He asks, cradling your cheek tenderly, and stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. 

The question is futile - if you were hurt, he would have noticed right away. But it’s still cute to see.

“Yeah. Not a scratch.” you smile.

“That’s my girl”, he smiles back. “So, what the bloody hell happened here?”

You glance at the private behind him. He’s shaking, and the look he sends you back is begging for mercy. Remembering the first words he addressed to you earlier, you realize you’re all out of mercy for today. Thus, with a sadistic little smile, you recount the events.

“This man came to me complaining that I was unfairly privileging Sergeant Mctavish and that he wanted his turn. Then when I explained that I wasn’t some kind of free-for-all buffet, he took it the wrong way and put his hands on me. That’s when I exploded his nose.”

By the time you finish your explanation, Soap’s expression has darkened considerably.

“I see.” is all that leaves his mouth. Anyone familiar with him would know that for him to start talking by monosyllables like Ghost, something must be very wrong.

Pivoting again, he faces the private and, as the latter opens his mouth to plead for forgiveness, punches him right in the face. Blood gushes, drops of it landing on his face. You mentally count until three, one for every blow, and when Soap still doesn’t stop punching, you frown, disturbed and worried by his conduct. He’s never been one to remain impassive in the face of injustice, easily riled-up even in critical situations and despite his superiors’ orders, but you’ve never seen him go this far. 

You’re about to intervene when Ghost beats you to it, putting a hand on his sergeant’s shoulder. That’s right. Ghost, the voice of reason, the paragon of self-control, their cold-hearted leader, will fix everything.

However when you hear the next words that leave his mouth, it’s like the world tilted on its axis.

“Not out in the open, Johnny.”

The words are whispered low enough that only Soap and you would have heard. They send a cold shiver down your spine. Rattled and unsettled in a way that they never made you feel before, you contemplate the situation in silent incredulity.

“Aye, L.T.”, replies Soap with an abnormally monotonous tone.

Before you can ask what the fuck is happening, he proceeds to punch the soldier so hard in the stomach that the latter collapses without a sound, except for the muffled noise of someone winded. The scene makes you increasingly uncomfortable. You feel like Bluebeard's newest wife, having stumbled upon the one room you were forbidden from entering, having witnessed something you weren't supposed to see, and now you can never go back to how things were before.

You counted on Soap and Ghost’s intervention, sure, but you expected them to put an end to the fight, maybe intimidate the guy a little, and ultimately end things here. You didn’t expect… whatever this is.

Staring in shock at the two Special Forces, you shake your head to get a grip and come closer.

“Alright guys, I think he’s had enough-”

Ghost interrupts you with a hand on your shoulder. The Ghost touching two people in less than five minutes? Yes, something’s seriously wrong. Looking at him, you try to convey urgency with your gaze…

“Simon, this isn’t-” 

…but his next words make you lose hope of winning this argument.

“Easy there, love. Johnny’s takin’ care of it, ya don’t need to worry ‘bout a thing.”

The next thing you know, he presses a hand against your lower back, making you leave the premises, completely ignoring the way you stare at him in utter disbelief… and growing apprehension. 

He had never called you “love” before.

#mine #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #soap x reader #soap x you #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #cod fanfic #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fic #ghost is also there #english not my native language. thought british accent was hard but scottish is the worst #writers on tumblr #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty mw2

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! General Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

🌟 Yandere! General is very controlling and likes order. He has a specific way of doing things and doesn’t like seeing things out of line. Will be very demanding and forceful things don’t go his way.

🌟 Yandere! General who is insanely scary when pissed off. He basically triggers everyone’s fight or flight response no matter who they are. Can easily break every bone in someone’s body if he really wanted to or was pissed off enough.

🌟 Yandere! General has many scars on his body due to his many battles in war. He enjoys it when you run your fingers down on them. His battle scars are extremely thick and run all over his body. They symbolize his strength and resilience.

🌟 Yandere! General would write the world's most romantic letter to you everyday while he’s out at war. He feels guilty for leaving you alone and wants to finish the battle as quickly as possible just to get back to you. Every minute apart from you is torture and would always carry a picture of you in his uniform chest pocket.

🌟 Yandere! General gives you the juiciest French kisses when leaves or returns from war. He expresses his emotions mostly through action and rarely verbally expresses himself. Will also bring back jewels and clothes for you once he gets back.

🌟 Yandere! General met you at a banquet hosted by a member of the royal family. You were an aristocrat and he couldn’t help but be enthralled by you once you introduced yourself to him. He spent the entire night by your side getting to know you and currying your favor.

🌟 Yandere! General on the next day is meeting with your parents to demand for your hand in marriage. They most likely will say yes due to his high social standing and his incredible wealth. However, if they say no he won’t hesitate to kill your parents or use any form of intimidation to make it happen. Would kill a suitor he’s most threatened by and chop their head off. Then mail them to other suitors as a warning sign for them to stay away from you.

🌟 Yandere! General would betray his country and kill all the royal family members in a heartbeat if you wanted him to. Although he has a cold exterior and aggressive way of dealing with you, your wants are what he chooses to prioritize. Don’t ask too much out of him all the time though, if he feels as if your being to demanding he may spank you.

🌟 Yandere! General is incredibly hard to run away from. If you somehow manage to do so, he’ll use his position to scour the entire world until he gets his hands on you again. When he manages to do so, he’ll permanently break your legs and disabling you. This would cause you to rely on him for everything and he lives for that. You can scorn him all you want but in his mind you deserved it.

🌟 Yandere! General grew up as an only child. His mother died when he was young due to a sickness and was left with his father. Killed his father with his own bare hands which caused rumors to swell that he is a savage. Nobody knows why he did it but no one is willing to ask why due to their fear of him.

🌟 Yandere! General was forced to join the army as a child soldier in order to survive and make a living. Climbed up the ranks and is now the most respected man in the military. Over time he’s hardened a lot and the sight of blood does not bother him, in fact it excites him. The thrill of a dangerous battle gets his adrenaline going and wanting to smash someone’s brains in.

🌟 Yandere! General loves it when you read a book to him while he cuddles with you. It’s the peaceful times that he yearns for the most. Being out in war all the time and having to fight battles since a young age really traumatized him. A change in scenery is really like a breath of fresh air. He can only really feel at serenity when you’re in his arms.

🌟 Yandere! General has a very unique and strange sense of humor. He likes to make a lot of pun jokes which most of the time leave the room just silent. Thinks that he is extremely hilarious and gets proud of his jokes. When he tells a joke to you, you usually just ignore him but he will keep repeating that joke until he gets a reaction out of you. Usually it’s a pity laugh or a really tiny awkward chuckle.

🌟 Yandere! General keeps weapons hidden from you. Does not trust you enough to handle them and doesn’t like you holding them. Why would you need them when he can protect you himself? Won’t allow you to learn how to properly use weapons because he believes that it isn’t needed with him around.

🌟 Yandere! General is very strict with you. He doesn’t like seeing you do things that he deems as “out of line” such as escaping. Has a daily routine that he likes for you to follow and won’t hesitate to demoralize you if you don’t. Although he can be very mean to you at times that doesn’t mean he’ll allow others to do the same. If he ever sees a maid bullying you, he’d gladly hang them in the middle of the city for everyone to see.

🌟 Yandere! General has so much power that at times, not even the royal family can stop him. He’s very influential and the only thing they can do is look at him in horror. Many successors in line for the crown will try to curry his favor in order to stabilize their position as the next ruler. His say is the most powerful out of all the noblemen combined. Absolutely no one can compete with him.

🌟 Yandere! General is very tall and extremely muscular all around. He’s the most well built person you’ll ever meet. His boobs are probably bigger than yours. Is as hard as a rock, if you ever tried to punch him you’re fist would probably break and is easily one of the most strongest people in the world.

🌟 Yandere! General isn’t as book smart as he’d like to be. It’s not surprising because for most of his childhood he’s been in the military. Most of his learning came from trying to understand important documents and make sense of them as a child. He loves to learn though and is willing to learn your native language if you have one.

🌟 Yandere! General has a lot of pent up stress due to paperwork he needs to complete. He lives to put you on his lap while he does his work in his office. Having you there just gives him delight and encourages him to complete his work faster. These days are very slow days to him and time just seems to drag on.

🌟 Yandere! General makes sure that you’re well taken care of and loves putting collars or chokers on you, it's just another sign that you belong to him. Don’t ever try resisting him because it just never goes too well for you. Just give up there’s nothing you can do.

Pt. 2

#yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere general #yandere #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere oc #gn reader

[aphroditelovesu]

The Lost Queen - XII

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 3,070.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 12

When you regained consciousness, you were no longer in the Macedonian war camp.

You knew this because your body was lying on something soft and comfortable, softer than your cot and far more comfortable than anything you had experienced during your time here.

Your eyes looked around, looking at everything with fear and curiosity. You quickly realized you were in some kind of tent and a luxurious one at that. There were exquisite tapestries and gold, lots of gold. It was a richness that you could only imagine, seen only in old period films and something you never thought you would ever witness.

It was beautiful. And disturbing. Absolutely disturbing.

You were no longer with the Macedonians, you knew just by looking at the wealth that tent had. Not even Alexander's tent had so much wealth, he preferred to maintain a more Spartan style, a way of getting closer to his soldiers and generals. You respected him for that.

You had no idea where you were and who you were with. Genuine dread and fear filled your insides and you had to try to hold back the rising bile, the imminent urge to vomit that took over your aching body.

Now was not the time to vomit. You needed to find out where you were, what had happened and how to get out of there.

You carefully got up from the small bed you were half-sitting and half-lying on and began trying to walk through what appeared to be the opening of the tent. You stopped abruptly when the flap opened and you had to stay strong when the person you least expected appeared in front of you.

"Perdiccas." You whispered his name, your legs shaking weakly and your heart beating wildly. You were about to have an anxiety attack and needed to try to stay alert.

Perdiccas looked at you, concern shining in his dark blue eyes. He stepped forward and gently held your shoulders.

"Are you well?" He murmured, looking at your face, searching for any sign of a bruise. You shook your head in denial, trying to understand what the hell was going on.

You were no longer in the Macedonian camp, that much was obvious, so why was Perdiccas here too?

"W-Where are we?" Your voice cracked a little.

Perdiccas shook his head, "You will find out soon enough. You must rest now."

"What do you mean by that? I..." You felt yourself being pulled more and more by the panic that was growing inside you. No, you didn't want to go through all that shit again.

"Everything will be fine." Perdiccas assured, "They swore to me that you would not be harmed."

They? Who were they?

"Who are you talking about? Perdiccas, what's going on? Who are they?" Your mind seemed to spin with every question you asked.

Perdiccas pursed his lips and sighed heavily and after a moment's deliberation, he replied, "The Persians."

"The Persians." You repeated his words, trying to make sure you heard him right. The Persians, yes. You were with the Persians. You and Perdiccas.

Perdiccas just nodded, unsure of what to say. He had thought during the hours when you were blank on what exactly to say to you, but everything he had rehearsed had gone to waste.

"Why are we with the Persians?"

Perdiccas bit his lower lip as he contemplated your words. He didn't seem to want to tell you but you were going to find out one way or another.

"Because I brought us here." That's all he said.

You nodded your aching head, trying to stay calm. Perdiccas brought you here.

"Why?"

"Because then we can be together." He murmured, looking at your face calmly.

As his words registered in your mind, you replied weakly, "You betrayed Alexander." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Yes," Perdiccas began to walk in a circle, "I did it for you. For us."

You looked at him, your eyes flashing with anger, "Do you realize what you did? Alexander is going to kill you!"

"I did what I had to do. Darius offered me a good deal and I couldn't say no."

"W-What did he offer you?" The words were louder than a whisper, but he heard them well.

Perdiccas approached you and placed his hands on your bare shoulders, "That you would be mine in exchange for information about Alexander."

Your heart began to beat painfully inside your chest and a wave of nausea took over your body. You pushed Perdiccas away and unable to hold back the bile, you vomited on the floor of the tent and some on Perdiccas' boots.

Perdiccas just looked at you with cold, hard eyes. He didn't seem disgusted but rather irritated.

"So it is true."

You looked at him confused, your breathing labored and the bad taste of vomit on your lips. How you wish you had a toothbrush now.

"You are pregnant." He said, clenching his fists.

You didn't respond, you just closed your eyes, trying to hold back another wave of nausea.

"It's all good." Perdiccas said, placing a hand on your head, "Soon you will be free of this burden."

You opened your eyes quickly, scared of what those words could mean.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you. Now come, let's get you cleaned up and you'll be introduced to Darius."

When Perdiccas helped you straighten up, you didn't fight it. Fear paralyzed you. Perdiccas seemed very calm about the news of your pregnancy and something told you that what he was planning would not be good. But you wouldn't let him hurt your baby.

You would kill him before that.

A few days after your wedding night, at the Macedonian War Camp.

Perdiccas was in his tent, with a cup of wine in his hands and the other gripping his sword tightly. He was livid. The wedding was over but the sounds of the festivities still echoed through the camp for days. The soldiers all seemed excited about their choice of Queen.

Although you were clearly a foreigner and an unknown, you had earned their respect during your time there. You helped the injured, helped save Cleitus, and worked with the doctors to heal them. You were a kind of hero to the soldiers and they adored and respected you.

Perdiccas liked knowing that you wouldn't have any problems with them, but he hated the fact that you married a man other than him. He felt sick just thinking about your wedding night, about Alexander taking your virginity, about him entering you and hearing the sweets sounds your lips would produce. And in the nights that followed, he pretended not to notice that Alexander seemed to spend most of his nights in your tent.

Perdiccas wanted to gut Alexander for this.

Gripping the cup of wine tighter, Perdiccas' knuckles turned white. The more he thought about it the angrier he became. He needed to control himself or he would end up walking into Alexander's tent and doing something he would regret.

Well, maybe he wouldn't regret it so much, but he didn't want to die now. Not when he had you to conquer.

Sighing heavily, he stood up from his chair and put away his sword. He wanted to sleep, he didn't want to think about you in Alexander's arms.

But the gods had other plans for him. Perdiccas frowned when a messenger entered his tent without asking permission. He didn't recognize him as one of his men. Maybe it was a message from you? He was excited by the prospect.

"General Perdiccas?" The messenger asked in broken greek. Perdiccas heard a strong accent and he didn't like it at all.

He quickly reached for his sword and in one swift movement, Perdiccas cornered the man.

"Who are you?" He growled, his sword pressing into the man's throat.

The messenger gasped, "I-I bring a message from King Darius." His words were harsh and scared, but Perdiccas understood them perfectly.

Darius. The fucking King of Persia.

Darius send him a letter. Why?

"Why?" He asked, still not removing the sword from the man's throat.

"A proposal." The messenger murmured and pointed to the sword, "Can you take it out? I just want to talk."

Perdiccas stared at him with a raised eyebrow but nodded and slowly removed the sword from the messenger's throat. The man stood up and introduced himself.

"I am Aslan."

"I don't care who you are. Just tell me why you're here and why I shouldn't report you to Alexander."

Aslan muttered something in persian and said, "Darius has a proposal for you.

"Which proposal?"

"One that might be of interest to you. One that involves your new Queen—" Aslan couldn't even finish the sentence before Perdiccas had him cornered again.

"What about her? Is she in danger?! ANSWER ME!" Perdiccas growled furiously in the messenger's face. Aslan swallowed.

"She's not in danger!" Aslan managed to choke out, "She'll be fine. I just came to talk."

Perdiccas narrowed his eyes and slowly walked away, "Say it at once."

Aslan straightened his robes and said, "Here is a letter from Darius." He handed him a papyrus envelope.

Perdiccas took it suspiciously and said, "I can't read persian."

One corner of Aslan's mouth turned up, "It's written in greek."

Perdiccas sighed and opened the letter, reading its contents.

''General Perdiccas,

I address you in this correspondence to propose an agreement that I believe could be of great interest to both of us. I have been aware of your feelings towards your new Queen, as well as the supposed tension towards your King since he married her.

I therefore present my proposal: if you are willing to share information that could contribute to the success of our endeavors in this war, I undertake to assist you in fulfilling your wishes in relation to the Queen. She will be entirely at your disposal, whether to join you in marriage or to be taken as a concubine, as you wish. I assure you that all measures will be taken to guarantee your well-being and safety.

If you agree to the proposed conditions, I will take the necessary steps to transfer you from your camp to mine. I await your response.

Yours sincerely,

King Darius III.''

Perddicas's eyes widened as he read the bold content of this letter. When he finished, he took it to a candle and set it on fire. Destroying any possible evidence.

Aslan watched him with interest.

Perdiccas turned to the persian messenger, his eyes shining with determination and mischief, ''Tell your King that I accept his proposal.'' There was no hesitation and not an ounce of remorse. He had made his choice.

Aslan smiled mischievously and nodded.

Perdiccas stared at the candle with a dark expression. You would be his. It was everything he needed. He knew he would be turning a traitor, but he didn't care. The prospect of living a life with you was more than he could have wanted.

Maybe he would be cursed by the gods for this choice but it would all be worth it if he could hold you for a moment, feel the taste of your lips again, touch your body, join you as one.

It would all be worth it for you.

A few days before your kidnapping,

You walked around your tent bored and distressed. It had been a few days, weeks in fact, that you had been feeling increasingly anxious and this was due to several reasons. One of the main ones was that you noticed a significant change in the story.

You were supposed to go to Sogdian Rock, where Alexander would meet Roxanne and marry her, but instead, he was preparing for a battle against Darius that you knew was Issus's. This was wrong, very wrong indeed. You had already changed history too much and you feared what those changes might mean for the future.

You needed to leave soon before you screwed everything up once and for all.

You took a deep breath and thought about your other problem. Your period was late. Okay, you didn't keep track of your menstrual cycle here, but you knew it should have come to you by now. You thought maybe this was due to the fact that you were no longer a virgin and that this could have changed your cycle, but that didn't make any sense.

The truth was what you feared. A few days ago, you started to feel strangely sick and had some nausea.

You assumed it was the food that was bad, but when those symptoms only increased, you knew the truth.

You were pregnant.

This was bad, very bad. You shouldn't be pregnant. You could not. Alexander should have taken years to have a child with Roxanne, not you. The idea of pregnancy was scary for you, what it could mean. This could keep you permanently stuck in the past but could also be catastrophic for the future.

You needed to find a way out. But you had no idea how to get back. Your only clue was that strange man in the market but you never saw him again, which left you with no way out.

''(Y/N)? Can I come in?'' You were startled when you heard a voice outside your tent. You took a deep breath and replied,

''Yes. Come in.''

The flap lifted and you smiled gently when you saw Leonnatus enter, dressed in a simple white chiton. He smiled widely and ran to hug you, pulling you tightly and crushing you in a bear hug.

You laughed softly and hugged him back. A few days ago, you found yourself very close to this officer, he seemed to like you and you liked him. He reminded you a little of Perdiccas, due to how kind he was to you.

''How are you?'' He asked when you separated.

''I'm fine.'' You mumbled and he raised his eyebrow.

''Tell me what's wrong.'' His voice was slightly harsh and you looked at him, ''Please.'' He added when he saw your incredulous expression.

''I...'' You sighed and sat down in a chair, ''If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?''

As soon as you uttered these words, the tent flap was opened again and Seleucus entered unannounced. You frowned and he gave you a guilty smile.

''Sorry. I couldn't help but hear you talking and I want to know too!'' Seleucus said, approaching you.

Leonnatus raised his eyebrow, ''You are a gossiper.''

You laughed when Seleucus looked at you indignantly. Oh, these two were comedy and you loved them for it. You were happy to have found an unlikely friendship in them.

''I am merely concerned for the well-being of our wonderful Queen.'' Seleucus defended himself.

''I'm sure you are.'' Leonnatus scoffed.

''Okay, okay! I'll say it but you two have to promise, no, swear to me that you won't say anything to anyone, you hear?'' You said nervously. Noticing your nervousness, both men nodded quickly.

''I…'' You took a deep breath, gathering courage, ''Well, I think I'm pregnant.''

Leonnatus smiled widely and Seleucus even jumped for joy.

''Ah, by the gods! That's great!'' Leonnatus said, very excited.

''YES! You have to tell Alexander! He's going to be so happy!'' Seleucus added, joining his fellow officer in his joy.

You quickly stood up, ''NO! You swore to me not to say anything!

They stopped celebrating and looked at you confused. That was good news, wasn't it?

Leonnatus approached carefully and placed his hand on your shoulder, ''Why?''

''Because I don't want him to know yet. I'm not sure if I'm pregnant or not, but I want to know for sure first.'' It was a half-truth and thankfully they seemed satisfied with it.

''Alright, let's not say anything.'' Seleucus said and placed a hand on your other shoulder, ''You have our word.''

You smiled in relief, ''Thank you.''

Leonnatus and Seleucus hugged you in a group, making you squeeze between them. You didn't push them away, instead feeling calm about having friends and allies who clearly cared about you. That was good and it hurt a part of you to know that you would have to leave them eventually.

But for now... You would just make the most of this time as much as you can.

Present day, at the Persian War Camp,

True to Perdiccas' words, you were washed and dressed by servants. You looked like a doll in the hands of these women and you hated this feeling of helplessness.

When they finally finished dressing you, you found yourself sitting in a chair, waiting to be called to meet Darius. A part of you was apprehensive, while another felt a twinge of excitement at being about to meet another historical figure.

Sighing, you grabbed a glass of water, drinking it slowly as you reflected on the gravity of the situation you found yourself in. It was clear that big problems lay ahead.

You stood up abruptly as the tent flap was pulled aside, your heart beating wildly as your eyes locked on the figure entering. The glass of water slipped from your shaking hand, falling to the floor with a muffled pop, the liquid spilling onto the carpet.

A chill ran down your spine as you recognized who stood before you. You instinctively stepped back, your hesitant footsteps echoing softly in the tense silence of the tent as the figure approached.

"It's... you...", Your words came out in a fragile, almost inaudible murmur, your body seeming to weaken in the face of the imposing presence in front of you.

It was him, the man from the market. The same person who, in some inexplicable way, had been the catalyst for your journey through time. Disbelief and fear intertwined in your mind as you tried to process the significance of this unexpected encounter.

''Hello, (Y/N). It's good to see you.'' The man said, smiling broadly, ''We have a lot to talk about, don't we?''

— lady l: It took me a while to bring it but my days are busy and I barely had time to write! BUT, I hope the wait was worth it with this ending... Hahaha, what do you think will happen? 👀

I hope you enjoyed it and we'll see you in the next chapter, which won't take so long! Love you!! ❤️❤️

#the lost queen #tlq #history #yandere historical characters #yandere history #alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reader #long fic #fanfic #yandere au

[gremlingottoosilly]

[If you need to be mean] chapter 6

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Konig brings you to his base. TW for the work: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in her early 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective TW for this chapter: Dub-con smut

König had experience with women before. 

He is almost forty, he ought to have it – fellow soldiers, cute girls at bars, women that he met in the grocery store and wasn’t too awkward to strike a conversation about various milk types. He actually started to have sex much more when he joined KorTac – maybe it was his ability to splurge on expensive gifts for girls who liked it, or maybe it was the allure of a mysterious military man that struck something deep in the women around him. He has sex, maybe not every week or even a month, but it’s not like he can’t deal with his sex drive via jerking off. Every day. Sometimes even twice per day. 

Yeah, maybe he has a bit of a problem with his high sex drive that never got weaker while he aged, but it’s probably because of the adrenaline. His life is at the risk every day, so it��s only normal that his dick is as hard as it gets when he has a chance, right? 

Sometimes he wonders if there is something wrong with him. If there is some deep, horrible trauma that is buried within his heart from his childhood, school and his father. Something inside him is broken and there is no way of fixing that, no matter what his therapist would say so he would pay for new session and won’t question why the fuck he keeps getting pumped with pills and not something that would really help him. Sometimes König thinks that, maybe, he is not normal – and nothing in his life ever was. 

Then he looks at you – adorable, tiny compared to him, traces of tears plastered on your cheeks as you desperately cling to his body. He holds your life in his hands – both figuratively and literally, with how easy it was to make you lose your job and depend on him as much as he depends on you. How soft you are, how sweet and weak – he spent so much time among other soldiers, that he almost forgot how fragile civilians are. He can squeeze your neck and make you choke, he can put his fingers down and play with your tender flesh, making sure that you are nice and ready for him – or you two can just cuddle in his office, allowing him to just feel your body on top of him. 

König likes to think that he is calm and collected, has the highest patience out of everyone, and literally nothing can ever make him mad. He loves to think that he is respectful towards everyone, that even if his soldiers are afraid of him sometimes, ultimately he is a father to his men and a respectable figure in KorTac. 

So, when you are already one week in your official relationships – ever since you came to him and begged him to accept you – he likes to think that he had waited enough time for finally conceiving with you. He is a nice person, ultimately. He protects you, even if you don’t know it yet – he can be rather sneaky, he pays for your things – rent covered three months forward, all the bills are payed and send to your landlord, and every little thing that your heart might want is given to you. You are not asking for many things – he hoped for something really nice, like maybe a set of expensive lingerie or some new gadget that girls your age like so much – but all you ever asked for were mundaine stuff. 

König is totally fine with helping your grocery shopping, but he can’t hold it over your head every time you are too shy for his advances and asks to prolong talking stage a bit more, and he is already getting kinda frustrated. Kinda impatient. 

He likes to think of himself as embodiment of self-control, but getting off just your panties and things you leave at his base isn’t enough anymore. Especially when he was finally able to talk you into being a bit more close – your hands on his shoulders, your ass sitting perfectly on his lap as he strokes your hair and abandones lower part of his mask so he could feel your sweet smell without a barrier between you. 

Your hips are perfectly angled to rub his dick through the clothes. He feels like a pervert when he locks you in place and experimentaly shifts his position, rubbing into your softness even more. He feels like a completely disgusting monster who is using this sweet, naive and adorable civillian to his dark desires, but if people around here already knows that he isn’t the emodiment of good moral code, then why should he ever try to hide himself? 

You are soft, weak, tasty even – he doesn’t know it yet, but he would pay everything in his power to find out. He always thought that he loved power, strength, attracted to either soldiers from other units, who could get his adrenaline rush rolling, or confident people from pubs who could get through his awkwardness. You are not like this – you would never made it far in the military, probably staying on the level of some lowly nurse or data assistant – he would love a cute little secretary by his side, but even that role requires some additional combat training. 

König doesn’t know why he wants you so much, but you sit on his lap, playing with multiple harnesses on his leg, and he can’t keep his hands to himself. His fingers already got under your shirt, warm touches on your belly that made you shiver and catch your breath, waiting for his next move. 

Ja, he really can’t help himself anymore. 

— Schatz, how are you feeling? 

His voice is husky and you would jump out of surprise to hear him, if not for the other hand keeping you in place. Usually, he is content with just touching you, rough hands caressing your body as you mentally prepare to be ravaged even though he isn’t particularly pushy into the subject matter. You are oblivious enough to think that his length poking your butt is nothing but a spare gun in his hands, and your constantly disappearing panties are your own fault. You can be silly like this sometimes, especially when your days now mostly consist of scrolling the internet for “Contr-terrorists operations how long”, “Is colonel a high rank” and German lessons in case everything gets serious and you’d have to consider moving right beside him. 

— I’m…alright, I think? 

— Gut. Do you want anything right now? 

— No, thank you. 

— You sure? 

His hands are sliding down, gently rubbing your belly in a motion that is not reassuring at all – his movements are urging towards your waistband, and you really regret wearing skirts because this is giving him easy access. You didn’t think about wearing it before, but right now your weaknesses are showing – literally. His hands are warm, your skin is cold, and you can’t even breathe while he is touching your skin ever so slightly. 

He is asking you questions and you know that this isn’t because he really wants to know how you are feeling – he is very observant and caring towards you, as much as someone in his position can be, but you are pretty sure that he has ulterior motives. You can’t keep the naive and oblivious act for long – and you don’t want to see what will happen once he’ll see through it. 

— Yes, sir. I’m sure. 

— Don’t call me that. I thought you agreed to call me by my callsign. 

Not even his name – his face, his identity is a mystery to you, just like with everyone else. It makes you feel less special and certainly doesn’t help in trusting him more, but you cling to hope that he is not committed to you enough. That there is a way out of this because if he would show you his face, you are pretty sure that the only way of running away from him would result in death. 

You are calling him by his callsign, and even this feels too fucking personal. 

— Sorry. It’s just…

— What, meine Liebe? Do I scare you? 

Yes, you want to say. 

You are scaring me and you are arousing me and I want to be your wife and I want to never see you again. You are a constant threat, and you give me the best gifts. I don’t want to be your girlfriend and I would thankfully agree to be your barefoot trad wife. You are making me feel weird and it’s conflicting, and it’s loving and I don’t want you to touch me, but I also want you to slip in my panties and take me like I belong to you. 

Of course, you can’t say that. 

But his hand still slides deeper. 

— No, colonel. You don’t scare me. 

— I like it when you use my rank. 

It gives you at least some comfort – some distance between you, as figurative as it can be. You nuzzle your face deeper into his chest, hoping that your blush won’t get away from your real feelings. The week was a blur – too many things happening at once. Debts disappear once he gets his card out of his pocket, too many expensive gifts plastering around your apartment. You don’t want to ask him where he got all of this stuff in a town that was locked down from the outside world because of the terrorist threat, nor do you want to know how much it costs him. Rich perfumes and weirdly expensive jewelry all look out of place on your body – or at your house. It is almost like he had never given gifts before, especially not to women. It’s out of place and everywhere at once – you would like to get flowers and chocolate and stuff that probably costs more than your whole life, but you are too shy to ask for a proper couch even though it’s the only thing you truly crave. 

— Not sure if I use it correctly. 

— You’re not. If you were my soldier, I would have to discipline you. 

Oh, he would love to bend you over his knee and give that ass what she deseerves. He won’t be nice, of course, it’s a punishment – he would listen to your little whines and cries as you can barely hold yourself together while he is doing nothing but teasing your soft flesh, playing with it like it belongs to him. König knows you would like it – just as you like the way his hands are travelling down your lower stomach, playing with the edge of your panties. 

His hands big – enough to cover your pussy entirely, rough fingertips playing with swolleness of your clit through the soft fabric. Your breah hitches – he was never this shameless, always asking before touching you even remotely innapropriately. Your skin is covered in goosebumps, you feel slick already travelling down your leg and you don’t dare to look up and meeting his eyes. 

He never gotten so far, and you love how shameless he is while doing it. 

He never gotten so far, and you hate yourself for being so weak for his hands. 

— A good thing that I’m not a soldier. — You would look good in uniform.

He chuckles, hands still covering your body. His other palm keeps you in place, makes sure that you will not try to run away – not like you have other options. His soldiers are already used to him casually inviting you to the base, however civilian you might be – but you know that they won’t hesitate before stopping you in case you’d decide to run away from their commander. If anything, they are loyal – creepy in that regard, eyes following you ever since that masked soldier brought you to him a week ago. You feel like a lamb that got caught in the wolves den and slowly eaten alive. 

— Si…König? 

— Ja? What is it, Mein Schatz? 

His fingers are slowly circling your clit, rubbing and playing with your labia as he gently spreads the heat. It feels almost casual, almost like you don’t need to pay too much attention to his actions. Your breath is non-existent at this moment, a mix of soft little cries and moans every time he rubs your sensitive flesh. It feels experienced, maybe not very sensational, but what he lacks in interesting technique he compensates in the sheer age and experience difference between you and him. You don’t even know his exact age – but he feels much older, more mature, you would call him daddy in different circumstances, but right now the words are only mortifying you. 

Calling him sir makes you feel small. 

Calling him colonel makes you feel…things. Not sure whether they are positive or not. 

— I’m not sure if we can do it here. 

— What do you mean by “it”? Your answer gets caught with a loud moan as his finger slips past your panties and slowly rubs your folds with a barrier between. You gasp and try to squeeze your legs, not letting him expose your lewdness so shamelessly – but his other hand goes to easily spread them, creating an even more naughty picture. 

— Wh…what we’re doing right now. 

— No one will say anything to us. But you can keep your sweet voice down if you want to. — No! I mean, f-fuck…we’re not supposed to do it here. What if someone sees us? 

— No one would enter without knocking. Besides… He is lifting the lower part of his hood again, biting your neck and immediately licking already forming purple mark. It’s painful, almost too much pressure and he barely avoids drawing blood out of sheer force – but you moan even louder when his tongue laps on your tender skin. — Maybe I want them to see how I treat you.

You look perfect like this, he thinks. Moaning and whimpering on his fingers, as his rough fingertips are playing with your gentle center, collecting the slick between your legs. You might act shy and innocent, making him want to sink his teeth deeper into your flesh, but he knows that you want it too. Yes, you are docile – too scared to be active in the bed, too weak to take charge instead of him, but that’s okay. He would gladly use you however see fit and make sure that you’ll love each second. 

Your body is made for him to grab, to use, to play with. A prize for everything he has done for his country, a piece of something nice after all the years of constant fear and danger. God knows he deserves a nice civilian girl moaning on his lap while sitting in his office. 

You whimper as you sit on him, his finger already buried deep in your cunt – and it’s big, too big compared to toys or your own fingers. He is reaching depths that you have never thought of before, massaging the tender, gummy insides of your body. You never thought that getting something inside of your body might feel this good – it was always too much, too painful, you never got enough lube before entering, and was always chose the wrong setting in your toys. 

— We don’t have to do anything serious yet, lamm. 

He says this, but his second finger is already stretching you wide, as he hums some light-hearted melody with not regard for tears in your eyes. It’s too much – he is pushing all the buttons in your body, making you a whiny, horny mess on his lap, and you don’t have anything to fight him off. You don’t want to make him stop, and it makes you feel dirty – like a slut that sold herself for the comforts of being the colonel’s little plaything. You want to stop thinking about it, turn off your brain and enjoy the ride – but every time his thumb circles on your clit, making you whimper as you produce even more slick, you are dangerously aware of your situation. 

— I want to make you feel good too…

Oh, he thinks. You are nothing but a little devil, aren’t you? So innocent, so pure, small hands that were gripping his wrists before now come down, to his pants, trying desperately to cling onto his belt and unbuckle it. He allows you to, even shifting his hips in a thrusting motion as your soft hands wrap around his shaft. 

König knows he is big – and that he would have to spend countless hours lapping on your cunt, stretching you wide with his fingers and maybe even some toys before your delicate body would be able to take him. You would cry, sob at his length as he would bully it deep in you cunt – but not now. He is nothing but patient, and this little indulgent would help him in slowly opening you for him. He can wait for a while longer if he can get something out of you today. 

He loves to think of himself as this patient, calm leader who might be a bit scared of actually talking to many people and despises social interactions – but then your fingers gently tap on his tip, already red and swollen from arousal and, hell, he wouldn’t last a week longer without your touches. He finds your lips and bites them, kissem with passion that he never experienced with any of his previous partners. You’re soft, docile, you can barely hold his dick in your hands as he throbbing and leaking pre-cum, while his fingers are buried deep in you. 

Your folds are sucking him inside as he works on spreading your soft, tender insides – he does not intent of fucking you properly today, you are still too soft for this, too unexperienced to take his length like a pro, but it doesn’t mean he can’t play a little. 

— Like this, lamm. Use your fingers. 

— Do I…am I doing this right, sir? 

You make a mistake again – and he groans from satisfaction. König never thought that something as mundaine as a pretty girl calling him sir – by god, he hears it every day from mouthes of his recruits, but it never has the same effect – would make him drool, but…

— Doing so good, meine Liebe. Can’t wait to spread you around my cock like a fucking toy. 

— W…wait, please. Not today, I…f…fuck, I can’t. — You don’t want to be a good girl for me? 

— I want to! Just…not today, please. 

— You’ll have to pay for it later. 

— Of course, sir…

He pinches your clit with his hand, making you whine from pain and pleasure mixing inside of you. Your figners, still as soft and delicate as can be, wrap tighter around his shaft – he enjoys the pain, sensation of being pushed too far at the hands of his adorable, weak little civillian. 

König looks at your hands – and imagines a ring around your finger. 

This alone makes him cum – thinking about you, all wrapped up in pretty clothes and looking at him with the same innocence in your eyes, with your soft lips curled in a shy smile as you’d agree to become his wife. He’d feel ashamed of cumming so fast – you barely got any grip on his dick and started moving, ring of fingers around his length, pressing and playing with the tip, but why does he have to feel shame if he feels so fucking good? 

Cum drenshes your tender folds, you sob when your lower stomach gets covered in his release. You’re surprised at how fast you made him cum – never had much experience pleasuring others before, you can already say how strongly he gets off your innocence. 

His finger moves in and out of your body with ease, lazily almost – but the movement are deep and deliberate, not allowing any reaction to get hidden from his gaze as he continuies to abuse your swollen and puffy lips, pushing his tongue deep in your mouth. You want to squirm out of his grasp, but forced on his fingers again even as you cum, your cunt clenching his hand like your life depends on it. 

You both gets off the hights of your climaxes, clinging to each others like people drowning. You think this is it for today – a chance to relax, for your pussy to get tight again, without being spread around on his fingers. 

König moves you to the table, makes you lay on it, leg spread like a good girl for him – and you knows that it’s far, too far from the end. ----------------------------------TAG LIST----------------------------------

@shigbby @honeeybeezzz @herefornanami-s-cake @pendalikespasta @lucylou302 @yxllowtxpe @sunbathed-sweetgrass @sarah-ardini @teenagegever2k22 @lastwordsofadyingstar @lavenderskye29 @karrotsforyou @inlovewithcodmen @onegami @keithehe @lilahbunny @ameneminimo @beepyboopbop @ms-munchkin @dinonacho @undeadgod @dizeesstuff @mingkiiii @midwesternwitchery @yxllowtxpe @flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund @keithehe @iytatsworld @r02eg0ld @cumikering @ysljoon @m1ndbrand @captain-heebie-jeebie @bluenredndeath @elichisstuff @milenko115 @in-ny-i-millywok

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere konig #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male

[yandere-kokeshi]

Yandere König x Reader pls? Take all the time you need.

Warnings: yandere behavior and mention of murderer/violence.

A/N: Sorry, this took so long, I've been having writing block these past few days; hope you enjoy reading :].

Gif and icons belongs to bloodlst || NOT MINE

König as your obsessed beloved, is quite shy. Obsessive and heads-over-heels for you in every aspect possible. Massive stalker, and tends to cling to you like a koala whenever you’re around.

Whilst this giant isn’t the most sociable to be around, it’s likely that both of you met while connecting through the KorTac team, making you the new guy to the team. Which, at first, is awkward.

But the minute the team introduces you, König is immediately infatuated with you, head over heels for you; his hazel eyes throwing a rare connection as he follows your form, watching you do your work from afar/or close up.

You were absolutely a definition of a deity, maybe an angel in disguise– all he cared about was how different you were and how his eyes followed your trail like a dog.

Now, it’s possible that you were a medic. A kind and sweet doc that’s always made him blush with your gentle and scarred hands working on his wounds after missions or taking the chance to be shown around the campus; which, he’s grateful for.

Although, you might’ve been a good sniper too — an amazing eagle-eye soldier who knew what they were doing, something he admired. Though, something stood out for you.

Maybe it was the mask you wore, in and out of the battlefield, or possibly the fact you always went out of your way to talk with the Austrian giant; yelling across the field while jogging up to meet him.

At first, it was uncomfortable. He responds with too formal expressions and goes as far as not to look you in the eye. But, the more you spent time with him, he slowly opened up, allowing you to train with him, throwing glances your way, and partnering up on gunning away at the shooting range while the two of you talked about your past/or present.

His obsessiveness really starts to show the minute he sees you get a bit close with your other teammates, whether that’s Nikto, Zero, or his best mate, Horangi. In many sense, König is possessive, but in a sense of needing to keep you safe.

Jealousy lingered off of him, steaming smoke as if he were a dragon. Dark eyes are becoming murderous and intentionally ruin the conversation as soon as he sees them pat you on the back or give you a tightly-squeezed hug.

This would make your interactions more frequent— after every mission, he’s following you like a puppy following its parents until they agree to lay down with them. But, he’s awkwardly suggesting that the two of you should eat somewhere or go into the training grounds to work with each other.

Now, it’s likely you’re not a shy or anxious person, but that doesn't stop him from being with you 24/7, being glued to your side out in public. And he has his powers. His height and dangerous accent keep people away

König despises leaving you alone, even letting you use the bathroom; he has to follow you around, wait outside, and possibly lay against the wall as he stares down at people.

Now, König isn’t one to kidnap, not only is he a horrible liar, but he may fear you’ll hate him; no longer wanting to be around him or see him as a person you can go to if you have problems with.

Though, that doesn’t mean he will guilt-trip you into staying with him on a rare day off you have with him. Do you wanna leave and visit your family? Why should you? Don’t you think you should spend your time with him, lying on his chest while the two of you watch TV, no? You’re just breaking his heart, deary.

Heading to the coffee shop to meet up with a friend? Why don't you let him come, yeah? He only wants to make sure you are safe and okay!

But, if you insist on him not coming? That’s fine. This man is surprisingly stealthy, even with his size. Of course, not without your knowledge, he had put a tracking device on you, somewhere where you won’t find out.

He really tries going through the normal route, whisking you off your feet to fall in love with him. He wants you to be just as heart-eyed as he is to you. Which means he buys anything he believes you’ll love.

He takes you out on a few dates, trying to keep out of public ones. But every know and again, he will do so.

Finally, he confesses– showing his scarred face and pretty hazel eyes that make you feel more captured. He stutters, hands sweating and picking at his nails as he expresses he wants you by himself. And when you agree? He’s so thankful for you.

König rushes you to move into his apartment, ensuring he’ll take care of everything. Buying a large-king sized bed so it won’t break when you two sleep or going out of his way to get a guard dog for safety. He wants you safe. That’s all he wants, okay?

Speaking of severe safety, the shared home is littered with all kinds of cameras, including detection and listening devices. You won’t know about it until you really pay attention.

Affection with König is pretty touch-starved on his part; seeking the need to touch you, or have you touch him, no matter how small. But, he also feels and believes he’s a nuisance for asking for a hug or kiss, which leads to you dragging on most of the affection until he becomes comfortable.

König deeply appreciates when you give him back rubs. Feeling your fingers dragging along his back, massaging into his thick and tense muscles, it makes him re-love you all over again.

It’s no surprise that, despite his height, König with loved ones is a gentle giant. However, the minute he senses your safety is being threatened or visibly sees someone is making you uncomfortable, his social anxiety gets thrown out the window, and his instinct of finishing a mission kicks in.

Whether that’s willing to beat a drunkard, threaten someone to back off, or simply stand behind you; he makes sure you always feel safe and welcome in his presence.

—

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#kokeshi!! #yandere blog #yandere x reader #yandere male #male yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere könig #yandere mw2 #yandere modern warfare #yandere cod #yandere call of duty #könig mw2 #könig x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere military soldier #yandere soldier #i might add a domestic/normal headcanon of this man #hmmm... #silverwolf-108 asks #könig modern warfare #könig cod

[ghostybat00]

"OUR CUTE HACKER 👾..." KÖNIG YANDERE AND HORANGI YANDERE

(I need more Horangi content, but I also need more König yandere content, so I said fuck it, both of them as yanderes for a hacker reader, and here we are lol)

Reader gender neutral.

👾:Imagine being a hacker at the Kortac base of operation, you are someone who wants to go unnoticed. It's a shame that these two soldiers won't allow you to be alone anymore.

👾:You met the two quickly after you were hired as a hacker operator, specialized in stealing data from enemy bases and extracting important information on missions.

👾:First you met Horangi, he was a quite energetic man, a good soldier of Korean nationality, you caught his attention from the beginning, was it your cute little face? How your beautiful hands move around the keyboard and mouse, extracting data while you look so irresistible?He didn't know it, whenever you were around he would make jokes and sarcastic comments, he camouflaged himself that it was to break the tension with the team, But it was only to have even a minimal chance of seeing a nice smile or laugh from you.

👾:Horangi quickly told König, König hadn't really met you, but if he was a little tired of Horangi never shutting up talking about you, of course, he didn't know what he was missing when had the opportunity to meet you on a mission, you helped them and the others to open a database and finish the mission easier.

👾:Then he saw you physically...he swore he thought he saw a "Engel", You were so cute, so intelligent, the blood rushed to his face that fortunately for him, his piece of cloth on his face covered, from that moment on he understood why Horangi never kept quiet about you.

👾:They both tried to be friends with you, but it was a bit difficult since you were a bit quiet. They always tried to get you to spend time alone with them, inviting you to eat with them during breaks. Protecting you a lot when you had missions with them.

👾:Horangi used to use his humor to get the better of you, more than once making a cute laugh or small smile escape you, god how he loved that.Also, in his free time he used to write poems, so what's better than making some for yourself and leaving them in your locker or room?, The poems were very beautiful and always came with nicknames, but in the Korean language, he liked to see how you tried to decipher what meant each new nickname he gave you, such as "내 꽃" (My flower) "내 아기" (My baby) "나의 별" (My Star).

👾:It was obvious that König was more reserved, he wasn't shy, but he definitely wasn't very talkative, at least when it came to you if he usually made the effort to strike up conversations outside of the professional. Also, one of his favorite things was to help you train, of course, you were military too, but you were a hacker, so you were not in the same physical condition as them, So he helped you exercise more, taking the opportunity to touch you more, like helping you use a gym machine, putting his big hands on your hips for much longer.

👾:This was the nice part that you knew about them, not the obsessive and possessive part of these two.

👾:The two used to work together to eliminate any man or woman who would try to take you away from them. Did a rookie soldier try to flirt with you? Oh! You never saw that rookie again, he magically decided to quit after being brutally beaten!, Did an enemy even give you a mini cut? He died in the most brutal way possible, leaving his body unrecognizable!

👾:Another thing about them is that, worshiping it was a daily requirement for them. They see you as a god/goddess, you are so cute and unreal that sometimes they wonder if you are real or the both fell into a beautiful fantasy.They love you so much, that even the smallest thing about you drives them crazy,so much so that they keep them as if they were sacred objects simply because they were with you.Things like a ring that you dropped that was on your pretty finger? You never found it, and the plastic water bottle you just threw away a few seconds ago?, is magically no longer in the trash can.

👾:Speaking of item collection, yeah, they share a fucking sanctuary of you, hidden in the closet in König's room. Mundane things you used, even intimate things like a toothbrush you no longer needed, underwear you wore etc.

👾:They continue to act as your "just friends", although of course in the future they plan to make you their wife/husband, They are also very protective, thanks to König's status as a Colonel, they can keep you safe better, such as ordering soldiers not to get too close to you, excluding you from the others unless it is necessary for a mission, after all you already have them, what else would you need?.

👾:And they are very intelligent, especially Horangi who is a better manipulator than König, they know strategies so that you don't discover them and if you ever suspect them they cover it up as a coincidence.

👾:They really like "friends" nights, where during your free time at work you are squeezed between their muscular bodies in a comfortable bed,while watching some movie or series, you definitely have them around your finger, with the disadvantage that now you had 2 huge soldiers obsessed with you, and who will never let you escape.

#obsession #yandere #tw stalking #cod mw2 #konig #konig mw2 #konig x reader #horangi #horangi cod #call of duty #reader #konig x you #horangi x reader

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Abandoned

Ghost x König x Reader

CW: Smut, attempted non-con, blood, naked burly men, slight yandere vibes, but darling reader is on board with it

Working on behalf of a charity in the Middle East village you are working with is taken over by Al Qatala. One faction wants to kill you, and the other wants the improvements promised before they kill you. Many months of serious negotiations pass without an agreement being made. A US military squad moves through one day, shooting those who shoot them, seemingly on a random patrol.

You have been working on getting the placement for a new well pinpointed during this time, which was the goal of the charity on this trip, and now is one of the only reasons you still live. All of your possessions have been taken save for the shoes on your feet, soft-soled, so you can not escape, and your niqab which clothes you from head to toe, with a small opening for your eyes. Oh, and a single pair of underwear that has definitely seen better days.

A US soldier in desert camouflage near the edge of the village grabs you when you try to escape, and you think you are saved. Instead, he chuckles and decides he is going to have a little fun with a local woman, dragging you into a nearby empty house. He rips at your niqab, tearing your clothes from you blindly. It is only when your face is uncovered that he realizes that you are not local and not even Arabic, but an American like him.

As he continues to tear at your clothes, there is a noise at the door and a surprisingly warm, Scottish voice says, "Whatcha doin' in ere?" The soldier freezes, then glances next to him where his rifle is just out of easy reach. Before he can even fully make his decision, there is a metallic noise from next to you.

Another voice, cold and British this time, says, "Don't give it a thought." When he turns to face this second man, a set of hands gently clamps down on your arm and shoulder and pulls you backward against his body with a quiet but firm, "Danke." Your head barely reaches his shoulder, despite being tall for a woman at 5'10". In a smooth motion, he passes you over to the man at the door who wraps his arm and most of his body around you as he guides you to the alley between the houses. Just as you cross the threshold, you hear the US soldier say "Kilgore" in the most terrified voice you've ever heard.

There is screaming, yelling and some rather gruesome sounds of what, you don't quite know floating from the house. The man who led you to the alley tries to distract you, introducing himself as Soap. He asks you your name and other questions you struggle to answer, including why you are here in such a dangerous place alone before the other two men join you. You don't hear them walk over so much as you feel their gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck rising up in a primal warning.

When you look up from the much too interesting patch of dirt you have been focusing on, you see two tall men advancing, both wearing face coverings to rival the one you were wearing just minutes ago. The shorter man is wearing a neoprene type mask with a skull design. You snort internally at the idea of a man over six feet tall being considered short, but the sheer size of the mountain of a man next to him dwarfs even a six feet frame. Said mountain of a man has a curtain of fabric covering his face. It is black with two red streaks running down from the eyes. The former is introduced as Ghost by Soap. Ghost gives a brusque nod before turning away to speak into his radio.

The taller man you realize is the one who passed you off to Soap in the house. As you step closer to thank him, you realize that he is covered in blood and bits of...what is that?! You blanch, but with a smile pasted on that is much too toothy for the situation, you say, "Thank you, a-all of you." Soap is clearly weirded out by your deranged grin, and you say through clenched teeth, "Sorry. Tying not to puke." A look of understanding crosses his face. You glance back at the blood and viscera coated man, but he turns away from you. Soap says quietly, "That is König. Now, we need you to stay put so we can finish what we came to do and then you will evac with us." You nod, managing to control your stomach with enough swallowing.

The three men head out, each glancing back when they think the others aren't watching. As they leave, you find a small spot to hide and curl yourself up into the tightest ball you can to not be seen. It feels like hours of listening to guns firing, men yelling and screaming, and worrying if you will finally be able to escape when they finally return.

"Schatzi. Mein Schatzelinchen, where are you?" Surprisingly, it is König calling quietly for you as he and Soap enter the alley.

Soap exclaims, "Schatzi?! What the hell is a Schatzi? She has a name, you know." König shrugs.

"She is Schatzi to me. Ich liebe mein Schatzi," he replies in a possessive voice.

"Leibe? What does that mean? Lo-" Soap jumps in surprise as you wiggle out of the tiny hiding spot you found, and König blocks him from bringing his gun to bear, seemingly having already known you were hiding there and that it would surprise Soap.

"Come on, Schatzi. It is time to go." He holds out a hand, which you hesitantly take. It squelches in your grip, which you try very hard not to react to. The sound and feeling of it distracts you enough that you don't notice the loose sand near the edge of the road and trip into König's side. "Scheiße Schatzelinchen. None of that now. We must hurry to the evac." He picks you up and cradles you to his chest like a fragile bride. Soap eyes him hard, but hurries to keep up when König takes off in a sprint to join Ghost at the evac.

Ghost is waiting impatiently, and you see his eyes widen behind the mask as he sees you being carried, covered in blood. Soap calls out, "She just tripped. Blood is all from the big guy's 'work', and he decided we needed to leave like the hounds were after us wee hares." Ghost's shoulders drop as he lets out the breath he was holding. A chopper drops down just as they reach the evac point. You bury your face into the copper-scented vest of König's gear to keep the sand out of your eyes and try to ignore the sticky feeling it leaves on your forehead.

They throw themselves into the seats, and you end up between König and Ghost. They lean hard against you as the helicopter takes off, and you can feel your shoulders creaking. After a minute of this and the helicopter stabilizing the path it takes back to base, you lean back as far as you can in your seat. Ghost and König lean with you, still pinning you between them. They both yell in surprise when you jerk forward, and they knock heads together behind you. Soap belly laughs as they both sit up and rub their heads, glaring at each other over the top of you. Your quiet giggles go unnoticed by all three men.

Ghost apologizes quietly in your ear, and you immediately sober as a shiver passes through you and your cheeks redden. It seems an eternity later when you finally land at the base they are working out of. Soap takes the lead, and you walk between the two giants through the base until you reach a building off to the side. You freeze in the doorway when you realize it is a large communal locker room and showers full of men in various states of undress.

Ghost pushes you through the doorway and says, "Just follow Soap. We need to clean off this blood and...stuff." You hurry up to Soap and grab his vest, then shut your eyes tightly, trusting him to lead you safely. He brings you to a quiet and empty corner. You glance around carefully, looking for a washcloth or something only to slam your eyes shut and bring your hands to cover them when Soap starts to quickly undress in front of you. The sticky feeling your blood covered hands add to your face is even less pleasant than before.

Soap jokingly says, "What? Never seen a naked man before?" At the shake of your head, he goes quiet, and when you peek up at his face, his mouth is hanging open in surprise.

"No, this is...I've never..."

From behind you, you can hear the quiet shuffle of clothes, boots and gear being pulled off and Ghost drawls "Well, glad we can be your first and ruin you for all other men, but we still need to get the blood off." You glance back at them and get more than an eyeful of both Ghost and König before turning a deep shade of red. You realize that they have kept on their masks and guess that their anonymity must be deeply important to them.

"Fine, I'll just...umm..." You stare down at your torn and disgusting clothes. With a sigh, you shed your clothes quickly, piling your torn niqab, underwear, and shoes on a nearby bench.

"That is all you were wearing, mein Schatzi?" König sounds a bit out of breath behind his mask.

"Yeah, they took everything else months ago," you say shyly.

Soap tosses down a set of sandals for you to put on. "Well then, let's go rub me all over and clean up," Soap jokes, trying to break the tension. The looks of horror and disgust let him know that his joke hit perfectly, and his laugh echos through the room. You stare at your sandals, trying hard not to look at anyone as the three men walk nearly touching you in a bid to keep your nudity hidden behind their large bodies in the tight quarters of the communal shower. Soap finds a quiet corner and gently pushes you into it. "There's the soap, hun. Lather up really good, and then we will all rinse off together so nobody bothers us."

"Thanks." You shoot him a smile and quickly get to work rubbing the lather across your body. As you scrub down facing the wall, you try to get every bit of your body clean after nearly 9 months of bare minimum cleaning due to the village's rationing of water. You jump at the feel of hands on your back. Glancing back, you see König rubbing soap across your back, cautiously. You slowly relax as he gently scrubs the areas you can't reach. When he stops, you shyly gesture for him to turn around so you can scrub his back. The crinkle around his eyes that you can see makes you blush lightly, but you scrub his back anyway, returning the favor.

Ghoat seemingly pouts, at least you think so based on the glares he is sending König. You gesture for him to turn around after you finish with König. He groans as you gently rub the lather across his shoulders and back. You feel his breathy moans in your core, and when you look up, König is watching you like a hawk. You think he is mad, but he just says, "Good girl."

Soap has a baffled look on his face, looking between the three of you. After a minute, he just shrugs as if to say, none of my business and guides you to rinse off nearby, declining your offer to scrub his back. As you wash the soap out of your hair, you hear a man clear their throat nearby and open your eyes to see a stranger has worked his way near you while the men are focused on rinsing off quickly.

"Gonna scrub my back now?" He leers at your body unashamedly. You get your first view of an angry König as he claps a hand down hard on the man's shoulder and drags him backward.

"Leave my Schatzi alone, fotze." König moves to stand just inches from you as he rinses off. When he closes his eyes, you can't help yourself and take a peek down his body. A dark chuckle brings your eyes back up to meet his, and you quickly turn away to wash your hair again. The image of his cock is burned into your brain. You had no idea they could be that big and it was still soft. How big could did that thing get?

Clean but wet, your hair feels lighter than it has in months, and you've never been so happy to have a shower. Ghost turns you to face him, giving you a quick once over with his eyes. He uses his hand to scrub a few spots and splotches of blood off your face that you missed. Finally clean, you follow Soap back to the lockers with your eyes focused on his sandals. König and Ghost glare at anyone who dares to even glance at you.

Ghost hands you an oversized towel to use when you reach the lockers. It smells like manly and you wonder idly if that is what Ghost smells like all the time. Inspecting your clothes, you realize that none of them are fit to wear at this point. They are ripped, worn, and covered in blood, not to mention dirty from near continuous wear for nearly six months. You sigh and slip on your shoes, but just stare at the rest of the pile, trying to convince yourself to climb into them temporarily.

Suddenly, you are awash in a sea of clothing. As you struggle to get your head out, you feel calloused hands tugging it down your body. Your head pops out the top of the dress and you look down to realize it is a shirt. It smells like König, not Ghost, though you don't know how you are able to identify them so quickly. "Thank you, König," you say as you turn toward him, sliding your arms through and tugging a bit at the hem.

"You're welcome, Schatz." Your mouth goes slack as you realize he has literally given you the shirt off his back. His hairy chest and naked abs are on full display, a small trail of hair dipping down into his pants. You see a multitude of scars and a few fresher injuries, maybe even from earlier today. When you finally tear your gaze off his torso, he seems more than pleased to see you wrapped in his clothes from the look in his eyes.

The shirt barely reaches your thighs, but it's better than nothing, you decide. König disdainfully throws your old clothes into a trashcan, and you can't regret the loss at all. Ghost balls up your towel and throws it into the nearby laundry bin as you follow Soap back out, eyes trained studiously on his back. As the door shuts behind you, voices rise as many talk about what they had just witnessed, and one man checks the blossoming bruise on his shoulder, lamenting to his friends. They just shake their heads and tell him he was lucky to have gotten off so easy messing with a woman belonging to The One-Four-One.

Soap leads your group to a set of buildings seemingly on the opposite end of the camp. As you near the entrance, a frowning man in a hat waits. His voice booms out, "About time. (Y/n) with me." He walks off without checking to see if you're following. Ghost and König follow as well, while Soap heads off elsewhere within the building with his gear. Price stops at a door and turns to gesture you inside, stopping when he sees the two tall men flanking you still. "No, just (y/n). You can debrief later."

König grasps your hand with his free hand and staring into your eyes, says, "Goodbye for now, my Schatzi." You blush and croak out a goodbye as he walks away. Ghost shoots a glare at Price before turning to you and saying, "See you soon, Love." Price seems frustrated at how quickly you have charmed two of his best men and slams the door shut before gesturing at the open chair wordlessly. He stomps to the window behind his seat, looking out into the base. After several tense minutes, he turns back to you, gripping the top of the chair.

"Who are you, really?" Then, silence. As though he expects your answer to change now that you are alone. You stutter out your full name and his face changes from frustrated to angry. He slams his hands on the table. "I said, what is your real name?" You whimper and say it again, breaking eye contact in fear. He growls in frustration. "Then why the fuck can't I find you listed as missing?!"

You freeze in shock. "But... but... I've been a hostage in the village for... six months. I swear, I work for Blue Hope. I was here trying to get a well built for the village before they were taken over by those extremists."

"Well, Blue Hope has no record of you working there. Hell, whoever set up your cover must hate you because I can't find much of anything that says you ever existed at all." His glare somehow intensifies as you cower and try to think of a way to prove yourself with no I.D. or really anything connected to your life at all.

"I... I can prove I exist. I have an apartment that Blue Hope leased for me as part of my compensation in New York!" You sniffle a little as you try to keep your emotions in check, but it's difficult with your tendency to cry when you're frustrated.

He drawls, "they leased it, so how does that prove you exist?" He sits carefully in his chair, watching your every move carefully.

"I broke the rules of the lease and installed cameras. Bit of a nervous person, being away from there constantly, so I wanted to be able to check in, ya know."

"I don't, but how will cameras prove you are who you say you are?"

"I have two bachelor degrees on the wall of my office from Bandern University. They have my name and my majors and-and my minor. One is in environmental science with a specialty in water resources. The other is a political science degree with a specialty in international affairs. I'm still working on my Ph.D. in hydrology. That's why I'm working for Blue Hope instead of a private company. Nobody will hire a hydrologist without a Ph.D." Your voice strengthens as you explain your accomplishments; you're very proud of them for good reason. "I can show you on the computer. It's just a login on LinkUs to see the whole place."

"That doesn't seem secure at all for cameras that look into your whole house." He is definitely less angry and more surprised now. Captain Price navigates his computer to the website in question and puts in the login information you share.

"Yeah, I know. I turn them off when I'm home, but I know that isn't much of an excuse. I'm hardly ever there, so I wasn't as worried about it as I probably should be."

He frowns as the videos load on his screen. "Do you normally live... like a pig?" His try at diplomacy fails spectacularly as his shock slipped through. He turns the screen so you can see.

"Uhh... what?! My house isn't always the cleanest, but I don't live like a pig! Let me - oh god! What happened?!" The video feeds show nearly everything overturned and every drawer dumped on the floor. "I... I think I've been robbed! Umm... there. There is my office. If you click."

Price clears his throat and clicks on the office feed. "Ahh, does this? Yes, it does zoom. And there they are with (y/n) on them and the degrees you said. I'm still not 100% convinced, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt for now." He exits back to the main feed. "I need to investigate why you weren't-. Is anyone supposed to be there, a caretaker?"

"No. I should have hired someone." Your voice drops to a whisper as he clicks on the living room feed. "Wait, can you see someone?" Together, you listen to the man talking on the phone.

"Done. We haven't found it yet. I will have the full report once it is clean and empty tonight, but I don't think it is here." The strange man listens to the phone intently. "When will her body be recovered? We may need to intercept it, just in case she had it on her." He pauses. "Hopefully it was lost then because a local with computer access could be just as dangerous as an employee with the recording. Anyway, all traces will be gone..." The voice gets quieter as he walks away and out the front door.

You sit in shock. All traces gone. Does that mean what you think it means? Like, all of your things just gone forever? Price turns toward you with a careful look on his face. "I've never had someone exonerated so clearly and quickly before." His attempt at a joke falls flat.

"When." Your voice wavers, and you clear your throat trying to hold back tears. "When can I go home?"

Price looks decidedly uncomfortable now. "I don't know if you can, to be honest. I don't think it would be safe." The stress of the day seems to be finally catching up to you, and your sniffles turn into full-blown sobs. Price is now so uncomfortable that he can't sit still, jumping up and rushing to the door. "Where did those damn giants go, now? You!" he points at a man walking by.

"Me? Wait, is someone crying? Who's crying? I don't do crying." The soldier is quickly backing away quickly, looking nervous.

"Just go get König or maybe Ghost for fuck's sake, Roach!" Price snaps at him as he withdraws, missing the look of shock on Roach's face. He sidles along the wall toward his desk, watching you sob. The look of relief in his face when the door opens stops Ghost in his tracks. "Fix it, please," he says as he sits heavily in his chair, face in his hands.

Ghost stares at him, uncomprehendingly. "How the fuck did this happen? She was happy when we dropped her off." Despite the frustration in his tone, he moves to comfort you. He wraps his arms around you and picks you up. Ghost sits and settles you in his lap with your head tucked under his chin and shushes you gently. The glare he aims at Price is very short of comforting for him, though.

"Her home was wrecked and it sounds like it was the same company that stranded her here in the Middle East. She can't go home," Captain Price quickly shares.

Ghost perks up a bit, but keeps comforting you. Suddenly the door slams into the wall and König bursts into the room. "Mein Schatzi! Hands off her - she's mine!" He grabs you tightly and yanks you out of Ghost's embrace. Ghost tries to pull you tight to him, but there is truly no contest when König is running on adrenaline, so he lets you go. The giant of a man pulls you tight, tucking you against his chest, much like Ghost had and muttering in German about all the things he is going to do to Price in revenge.

You nestle against him, feeling safe encased in his arms and finally manage to rein in your sobs after a few minutes. König switches to muttering what he wants to do to comfort you, his fingers playing with the hem of the shirt. Your quickly spreading blush stops him in his tracks. "Uhh...sprichst du Deutsch?"

Your shy "ein bisschen" in response makes him groan and you're sure the skin around his eyes is red with embarrassment. When a throat clears behind you, he jumps and his entire body tenses, ready to fight.

"Sorry Schatzi. I shouldn't have wrestled you away from comfort." König gently sets you back in Ghost's lap. You grab his hand when he begins to back away toward the office door and settle yourself so you can keep hold of him. Ghost wraps an arm around your torso and pulls you flush to his chest before focusing on Captain Price again.

"Well, uhh, now that the crying is done. What are they looking for? What did you stumble on?" Price tries to get everyone back to the problem at hand with slim hopes that the other men will forget this.

"I overheard and recorded a confusing conversation working late one night just before I left the country. I guess it was way scarier and more important than I thought. I just remember thinking it was really weird for them to be talking about bribes when we are supposed to be an above the board charity. I only recorded it in case we get audited or something, because I didn't want to go down with them. I didn't want anyone to know what I'd heard, because I knew it would screw everything up for me and the village. I just wanted to get a well put in for them so they always had water."

Price rubbed his temples. "Did you hide it in your apartment or leave it in the village, then?"

"No, neither." He looks up surprised. "I put it in a cloud server...or three. I wanted it in case we got audited or something. It's easiest to listen to on my SoundLight storage because you don't have to download it."

Price's jaw has fully dropped by this point and the quiet "attagirl" growled in your ear makes your eyes glaze over and a shiver pass through you. You lean forward and pull it up on the computer, hitting play before settling back into Ghost's lap. The hard cock pressing against your ass surprises you, but Ghost's only reaction is a shaky exhale in your ear. König takes your hand again, making you glance up with a smile. He squeezes gently and you turn back to Price as he focuses on the recording.

The frown on the Captain's face intensifies as the recording plays and you feel Ghost's erection flag quickly. The tightening grip of König's hand just adds one more layer to the realization that what you overheard is much more serious than you could have ever guessed. When the recording ends, Price looks happier. "This is a serious matter. We will need to take action on this immediately and with this recording, we have some great leads."

You perk up. "Does that mean I can go home soon? Maybe save stuff from getting tossed?" Price shakes his head no.

"It isn't that easy. We have to thoroughly investigate before we commit to direct action or we might risk only getting part of the operation. It could easily be another six months before we have enough to act on. Even then, you might need a whole new identity. I'm truly sorry."

"What am I supposed to do then? I don't have anything to my name... or do I even have my name now? Do I go into Witness Protection somewhere?" The sharp "No" and "Nein" from both Ghost and König surprises you and gives you butterflies in your stomach.

"As your body guards have said, no. Witness Protection isn't safe enough. You'll stay here in our protection. I'll organize a room for you and we'll get some clothes together so you don't have to wear the cast offs of your dubiously generous friends." You're sure that König has a possessive grin under the curtain of his mask as he looks at the shirt you wear again.

"She won't need a room. We have that handled." Ghost slides you off his lap gently and guides you toward König and the door. "The clothes would be appreciated, though. And toiletries. And anything else, Love?" You shake your head, too overwhelmed to think very hard about what you need now that you truly have nothing, not even the niqab you wore for so long.

"I'm grateful for anything right now. I have more questions for later, but-" The yawn is sudden, but not unexpected. Price nods and waves you out without a word, already typing away on his report.

Ghost hangs back for a moment. "Debrief, Captain?"

"Tomorrow. This report can't wait." He pauses, having switched back to the camera feeds. "They found one of the cameras. We will have to keep this as quiet as a church mouse if you want her safe." Ghost nods and jogs to catch up.

König, unsurprisingly, has picked up (y/n) and is carrying her with her head tucked into his shoulder. Ghost sighs, not wanting to fight König verbally, but knows they need to hash out living quarters. "So, my room?" He tries lightly.

"Nein, no. She needs to be safe. That means she needs a room none will enter. That's my room."

"Nobody goes in my room" Ghost immediately protests, only to groan when he sees Soap walk out. Soap spots the three of you and takes off quickly in the opposite direction, having intended to sneak in and back out without being seen.

"See? No one dares to enter my room. She will be safe there when we go on missions. And...I would not mind you being in my rooms. Besides, Colonels get bigger rooms." The last was a bit of an unnecessary jab, but a good point all the same.

"Fine. Your room. Just no throwing fits if Johnny shows up at the door, alright."

"No promises." König's pace falters as your stomach growls. "Verdammt! We must take care of our Schatzi better. First crying alone and now starving." Ghost chuckles as König about faces and hurries to the kitchen. "We will find you a good meal before bed."

Upon entering, Ghost pushes the two of you toward the table and quickly puts together a meal. "Luckily, I just finished eating before Roach screamed at me to get my ass over there. Seems crying women can panic most of the crew." You blush and bite your lip.

"Sorry. It was just too much." König sits you on his knee and starts trying to feed you. "I can do it myself, I promise." You grab the fork from his hand and hunch over your food, eating quickly. The men sit watching you and talking quietly as you struggle not to shove the food into your mouth. The moans you make at the taste of the food have them adjusting their pants. "Oh, this is good! I haven't had anything this good in so long!"

With your plate emptied and your stomach full, you finally sit back. König pulls you close as he stands up. "Let's go to bed, Liebling. You can sleep off your feast." Ghost cleans up quickly and the three of you leave for König's room with a quick stop at the bathroom, which luckily was empty at this late hour. Ghost stops off in his room for a moment to grab some gear and half-jogs to catch the door to König's room before it shuts, locking it behind him.

After tucking you in the giant bed, König quickly strips off all of his clothes, leaving just his mask. "Some warning before you strip down, mate," jokes Ghost. König ignores him and climbs in on the far side of the bed, wrapping an arm around you. Ghost shakes his head before taking off all but his pants, carefully folding his shirt and trousers to sit on a chair near the door. He flips off the light, climbing into bed carefully to not jostle you. "Goodnight, Love...König."

"G'nigh Ghos, Köni," you mutter, falling toward sleep quickly.

"Schöne träume, Schatz, Geist." Arms wrap around you from each side and you curl up happily between them, feeling safer than you've ever felt before in the arms of two killing machines.

You wake up to a hand gently caressing your face. The skull on Ghost's mask is the first thing to come into focus. Even though you know it has inspired fear in the heart of many men, you smile, looking deep into his eyes. He seems surprised to see you smile, but you can tell somehow that he is smiling back. "Good morning, Ghost." Behind you, a hand tightens gently on your hip. "And König."

"Good morning" they say at the same time, making you giggle. You reach out and run a finger along the edge of Ghost's mask, catching the stubble there.

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes," he breathed out as you ghost your fingers down his throat. König's hand on your hip slides up to your ribs under your shirt. Your hand continues to slide down Ghost's body, running through the coarse hair on his chest, then back up and over his arm. Goosebumps rise up in the wake of your fingers and Ghost sighs as you caress each scar and imperfection on his skin.

"C-can I kiss you?"

"Yes, Love." He leans forward and you kiss him through his mask. Ghost gently turns you toward König who also kisses you through his mask. You run your fingers along the hem on it, making him tense.

"May I?" You feel even more nervous at his nod, but steel yourself and gently lift the fabric, sliding your fingers up his neck to his cheek. The column of his neck is revealed, then his chin and finally his lips. Leaning forward, you kiss him hesitantly, melting into it when he passionately kisses you back.

"Mein Schatzi," he groans as you pull away slowly, feeling flushed. "Would you like to touch me, Liebling?" He waggles his eyebrows down at you and smirks.

"Yes, sir," you cheekily answer back, kissing your way down his neck instead of using your fingers. The long, low moan he lets out goes straight to your core, encouraging you. Ghost presses his cock against your ass and runs his hand up to your breast, struggling against your shirt. He palms it gently. In response, you kiss König's nipple, giggling as his grip on your hip tightens, encouraging you.

You kiss every scar on König's chest and arms before he turns you back toward Ghost, again. Together, they tug off your shirt and it's only when they both press against you that you realize that Ghost has taken off his pants, leaving all of you completely naked, but for the masks. Ghost slides his mask up to kiss you deeply and König lifts your thigh up to nestle his cock against your core. The head rubs directly on your clit when he presses your leg back down. He smirks as you gasp into Ghost's mouth with his first thrust between your thighs.

Ghost pulls back and slides down your body, kissing his way to your breasts. "Is this ok, Love? We can stop if it's too much."

"It's so good."

"Good, that's a green light then. If you need us to slow down or pause, that is a yellow light. And -"

"Red means stop?"

"That's right, sugar. Red means stop and we will stop and take care of you, ok?"

"Yea, don't stop. Too good." He chuckled darkly as he went back to sucking and biting at your breasts. König kept thrusting against your channel, driving you closer to an edge you've rarely visited.

"Braves Mädchen," he murmured in your ear. "Good girl." You melted against him and he changed the angle of his thrust to press against your opening, stretching you wide as he gently pushed. He paused at your whimper, gently petting your hip and wrapping his other arm around your shoulders. He pulled you tight against him without choking you.

Ghost was quick with his "Color, sugar. Tell me what your color is."

"G-green. Mehr." Your casual slip into his mother language had König kissing your shoulder as he pushed in a little more at a time. Ghost kissed you again, sliding one hand down to tease your swollen clit and whispering encouragement in your ear. König carefully stretches his way deeper, trying to let you do most of the work as you move your hips back and forth in your excitement.

When König bottoms out deep within your core, you groan. Ghost smiles against your lips. "Did your greedy little cunt take that huge prick? Attagirl. You're goin' t'cum on that cock, aren't ya?"

You nod silently, whimpering as König pulls back then pushes in deep again, his thighs clapping against your ass. "König! Fuck!" You brace against Ghost as König moves faster and harder behind you, driving toward his own orgasm. "I'm gonna cum on you, König!" Your whines and whimpers are driving him on. "I'm cumming!" König bites down on your shoulder as he cums with you. His cock throbs deep inside your core with little thrusts that grind him deeper and deeper. Your squeal and clenching sleeve make him twitch harder inside you.

"Good girl. Good girl cumming all over me," he croons. After a few moments, he pulls out and turns you onto your back to catch your breath. Ghost rubs his hands against you, still worked up. You smile up at him and pull him close. He smirks back, kissing you deeply and spreading your legs to wedge his hips between them.

"Is this ok, Love? Color?"

"Yell-no, green. Green."

He stares at you for a moment, trying to gauge your honesty. You slip your hand down to wrap around his weeping cock and gently tug him toward you. "Want you to cum, too. It feels so good." He chuckles, but abides by your wish, pulling your legs to wrap around his waist as he enters you. König caresses your body and kisses your neck as you take Ghost's cock to the hilt in one sharp thrust. From this position all three of you are able to see the bulge in your stomach when he hilts himself into you. In response, your body clenches down on him to his delight.

"Sugar, not gonna last long with you milking me," he groans. You boldly reach down and push on his cock through your skin and clench at him again. His hips stutter, then he is pounding into you and pinching your clit as punishment. You squeal and König takes advantage of your distraction to gently bite your nipple then lave it with his tongue in revenge for your earlier cheekiness. The mischievous slant of his lips tells you that is just the beginning as they work in tandem to bring you over the edge again.

Ghost suddenly leans down and bites at your earlobe. "Who's fucking you so good the whole base can hear you? Say my name, (y/n). Tell everyone how well Simon is fucking you."

"S-Simon! You're gonna make me cum! Green? Fuck...Simon!" He thrusts harder, his balls slapping against your ass as he tries to make you cum before he does.

"That's it, (y/n). Tell everyone how good it feels."

"Cumming, Simon" you shout as you squirt cum all over his cock and abs. The sudden wetness shocks you and nearly ruins your orgasm, but the look of excitement on Ghost's face when he looks down keeps you cumming.

"Attagirl. Attagirl. Gonna cum in you, Love. Gonna fill you up!" The look of bliss on his face has you more convinced than anything he could have said that he isn't disgusted by what happened in any way. He collapses down onto you, still praising you as he tries to collect himself. You brush a kiss to his temple and shyly glance over at König to see the biggest grin on his face.

"Good girl. You are perfect." You blush and pull him over to kiss you, too. When he pulls back, he pulls his mask back into place and relaxes in a boneless heap with one arm possessively wrapped around your stomach. Ghost slides off of you, half asleep already. Your giggle wakes him back up some, but the best he can do is a cheeky grin as he cuddles into your side.

It feels like just moments later there is a pounding at the door. Both men are immediately on high alert with König pushing you toward Ghost and preparing to leap out of bed. It's only the voice on the other side of the door that makes him pause.

"Simon! Simon! Answer the damn door! I need to talk to you! C'mon Simon! I know you're in there!" Soap's voice has Ghost dropping his head back onto the pillow in frustration. "Come to the door already!"

"No fuckin peace around here. Can't even enjoy the afterglow." He huffs and puffs, debating on ignoring the jackass at the door.

"Answer the door. He's here for you and clearly not going to go away. I will cuddle our Schatzi while you are gone." König sounds almost mocking as he brushes kisses across your shoulder and you gently push Ghost out of bed.

"What in the bloody hell do you want, Johnny?!" Ghost yells as he answers the door dressed in only his mask.

Soap yelps and covers his eyes, "Jesus Ghost! Put on some pants!"

"No, you pulled me out of bed with (y/n). Now you gotta deal with the consequences, ya knob." Ghost stands with his feet planted shoulder-width apart in a mock parade rest. Soap refuses to look at him, choosing to stare at the ceiling instead and thrusts a canvas bag at Ghost.

"I was just bringing by some clothes for her. Price said she needed some that actually fit and that he better not see her bare-assed running around in just König's shirt again." Having passed on the message, Soap abruptly about faces and takes off down the hall.

"Thanks, mate," Ghost calls after him as he closes the door. You blush as he turns back and says, "Well, won't be needing these anytime soon, will we?" He tosses the bag of clothes onto the chair with his clothes and jumps back into bed, his crown jewels flopping about.

König chuckles and slides out of bed. "I need to piss. I'll be back." You sigh and hold his hand loosely, trying to keep hold as he walks over to his clothes without a trace of shame in his bare body.

"I'm losing all of my cuddles," you sigh. Ghost grumbles and tucks you into his side.

"I'm back, Love. We can cuddle all day." You smile and trace a line down his chest, lazily. He growls, "Or maybe skip the cuddles and go right back to making you scream my name."

"Hurry back, Köni. I already miss you," you call as he leaves. You catch a hint of a blush around his eyes as he carefully shuts the door. Turning back to Ghost, you smile lazily.

"You're getting awfully bold for someone who had never seen a cock before yesterday. I like it, Sugar." He kisses your forehead and relaxes against you. "I'm happy to share you with that giant if it means cuddles whenever we are home."

Your sigh catches him off guard. "I don't know how one of the worst days of my life led to this, but I don't think I've ever been happier and more contented than I am right now, Simon." Hearing his name, his real name, sends a shiver down his spine.

"When König comes back, let's get you dressed and have some breakfast... well, probably lunch by now, sugar." You can feel his grin under the mask and nod sleepily.

"Food sounds good. Very... good..." Your voice trails off as you start to drift to sleep. Ghost jostles you gently.

"Nuh uh, sleep after food or you'll wake up feeling sick with hunger. C'mon up ya get. König has a surprisingly too comfortable bed. And I honestly don't think I have ever seen one this big."

From the doorway, there is a deep laugh. "That's what she said. I abuse my body too much on missions to sleep on a shit bed, though. Let's see what Soap brought, hmm?" König dumps the clothes out onto the bed, quickly sorting out a set of clothes for you. "Here, (y/n). Put these on and I'll air out the bed a bit. Can't sleep on sweaty sheets." Ghost practically dragged you onto your feet before going to get his own clothes on.

"I hate these clothes," you mutter to yourself, grimacing as you pull the shirt over your head.

"Why's that, Schatzi? I hate to see you cover yourself up, but why would you hate them?" You blush, having not intended for them to hear your griping.

"They smell like other people. I don't like when my clothes smell weird," your petulant tone belies your deep discomfort with the perfume-scented clothes. "I have no idea where or who Soap got these from, but they smell... gross."

"Easily fixed, my Love." Ghost gently pulls you into a hug and rubs his body all over yours. "Your turn, König," Ghost says as he shuffles you into his arms. König happily rubs you with his hands, then picks you up and squeezing your ass, grinds you against himself.

"Yes, that is an easy fix," he says with a gleam in his eyes. You huff, but can't hide your grin as he sets you back on your feet. "Let's go eat, Liebling. Then, we can eat you later." You duck your head and groan, realizing how much König loves his double-entendres.

"Don't worry, Love. I won't use dirty innuendos to make you blush in front of everyone." Ghost whispering in your ear has you biting back a moan. "I'll just say dirty things in your ear so you blush and fidget over things no one else can hear and hope no one else overhears."

"Kommen, you two. Time to eat before we get called to attention again." You giggle at König's teasing and caught up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. The smile you flash back to Ghost is full of promise. The sharp look in his eyes in return sends a shiver through you.

#konig x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x könig x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost cod #könig x reader #size difference

[killerpancakeburger]

Breaking Point (1/2)

SUMMARY: Civilian!Reader, who works as Price's assistant, has a breakdown at work. Soap+Ghost help the best they can. Hurt/comfort. Can be read as platonic or romantic. Gender Neutral Reader.

PAIRINGS: Ghost x GN!Reader

Soap's version.

TAGS: Hurt/comfort. Military inaccuracies (I make shit up for the sake of the plot). Ghost is... Ghost; taciturn, blunt, aloof, but Not An Asshole, protective, trustworthy, He's Trying ☆.

WARNINGS: Mention of relative in the hospital, suicide ideation, depressive thoughts, swearing. Ghost's part is significantly darker than Soap's (in terms of suicide ideation, not as in he's a yandere).

WORDS COUNT: 3.6k

A/N: Very self-indulgent, Reader is going through it and so am I. 🙃 Ghost role-plays (NOT SEXUAL) as the world's worst psychiatrist. Yours truly suggest to listen to "Strong For Somebody Else" by Citizen Soldier to set the mood. (Song includes suicide ideation and depressive thoughts too, so listen at your own risk).

The news you’ve just been told cannot be real. Life could not possibly be that cruel. What did I do to deserve this? you wonder helplessly. It’s like every time you get back up, life knocks you down again, sending you tumbling on the cold, hard ground.

After ending the call, you put down your phone on your desk in a daze, hand shaking.

Clenching your fists, you stare into space, a thousand thoughts disorderly swirling inside your brain, all bursting with anguish, until a burning tear running down your cheek brings you back to the present. You’re at work, your boss is in the next room; a breakdown is a luxury you cannot afford right now. Better bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood than be caught sobbing. 

Inhaling a shaky breath, you take your head between your hands, shoving your fingers into your hair, trying to convince yourself to postpone your nervous collapse. Only one hour left, and you’ll be free to cry your eyes out at your flat. Or on the way home, even. It’s not like the other passengers ever paid you attention the other times you’ve cried on the bus.

But somehow your attempts have the opposite effect, and more tears roll down your face, staining the papers beneath it. As you furiously wipe your face with your sleeve, with a blend of frustration and despair, pissed at yourself, and wanting to get rid of the evidence of your fragile state as fast as possible, the unmistakable sound of your office’s door opening makes you look up.

The sight of the dark, bulky silhouette standing in the frame does nothing to appease your worries - quite the opposite. Of freaking course of all bloody people that could have walked in on you, it had to be fucking Ghost. The most intimidating - not to say terrifying - man on the whole base, but also the most cryptic. 

Towering over 190cm and built like few were, even on a military base, you had recoiled despite yourself the first time you met. Every single detail regarding him was redacted - you knew because you had checked his file, consumed by curiosity -, including his own face - unvaryingly covered by a black mask adorned with a white skull. That semblance of halloween mask and an alias was all that he shared with the world. 

He dispensed his words in dribs and drabs to a handful of privileged people, which seemed limited to your supervisor, Captain Price, who was also his direct superior, and his teammates of the Task Force 141. He couldn’t have offered you more than ten syllables in the six months you’ve been there. Yet, everyone knew who he was, what he was capable of, and crowds systematically parted with his passage like the Red Sea. 

You had wisely taken the resolution to not heed the rumors about him, which ranged from hardly believable to frankly ridiculous, but you couldn’t help the knot in your stomach every time he was nearby. It wasn’t only his imposing stature that put you on edge, but mainly the fact that he was always impassive. His mask effectively hid his emotions, sure, but his voice didn’t let anything show through either. Most of the time you had no idea what he was thinking or feeling, leaving you puzzled at how to interact with him. Not that there were that many interactions to begin with, but the few that happened left you with a lasting impression.

However you were pleased with yourself after you quit agonizing over his opinion of you, focusing instead on doing your best to treat him like the other soldiers. He may not be friendly, but he never had been disrespectful either.

You stare at him in horror, a deer in the headlights, unable to emit a sound. You didn’t even have the time to fabricate a bunch of excuses to get you out of this situation.

Shit, shit, shit. What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?

“Ya good?” 

His tone is gruff, as it always is, but not hostile. The question feels like a way out of this awkward situation, a lifebelt. You cling onto it like you're lost at sea.

Maybe you can still turn this around - pretend everything is OK. He will follow the implicit rules of politeness and leave you to it.

You hasten to reply.

“Yeah, yeah, it's fine. I'm fine.”

As you finish drying your face, he steps into the room, stopping in front of your desk.

“Did you need something?”

Your voice automatically switches to “customer service” mode, and you plaster a fake smile on your face. The mental image of a puppet, strings forcing the corner of its lips to lift, comes to your mind.

Ghost doesn't respond. His eyes are searching your face like it's an encrypted message that could provide a target's position.

Your smile vacillates under his scrutiny. The examination is cold, clinical; there's no warmth nor sympathy in those brown eyes.

“Doesn't look fine to me.”

He announces the statement like a fact, voice dull, neutral. He doesn't provide sympathy, but he doesn't cast judgment either. It’s not less irritating though.

Your first instinct is to snap at him, tell him to mind his own business, ask why he even cares. You resist it. Picking quarrels will only make matters worse. You grit your teeth and lie some more, trying to sound carefree.

“It's nothing, really. I'm just being a crybaby.”

Crybaby.

Ghost turns the word over in his mind, unconvinced. He still recalls vividly the moment he stopped considering you like another faceless office worker amongst others and made an effort to remember your name.

He was mindlessly killing time in the break room with Gaz and Soap until you showed up at the door, a forced smile on your face, attempting to look casual but your body language betraying your nervousness. He spotted you first, the other two engaged in a lively conversation. Relief spread on your face when you saw he had noticed you, sparing you the trouble of having to call out for him, and you approached.

“Ghost, can I have a word? … in private?”

He straightened up from the wall he was leaning on and followed you wordlessly, feeling the prying stares of his teammates lingering on him. You stopped in the hallway to face him.

“You forgot to fill out the medical part in your last report.”

Fingers linked together, you were anxiously twiddling your thumbs. His eyes followed the movement unconsciously.

“I haven't.”

You frowned in uncomprehension. 

“Your medical file said-”

“I know what the medical file said,” he retorted firmly, hoping that you would understand his intention without him having to spell it out loud.

The furrow in your brows didn’t go away, quite the contrary.

“You want me to lie.”

The statement wasn’t an accusation, but a request for confirmation.

“You catch on quick.”

The sarcasm and patronization unintentionally slipped into his voice. You were just a newbie trying to do your job well, after all. However the others before you never took the trouble to confront him about this, either out of fright or negligence, and this felt like a waste of his time.

He watched you search his face for something, an explanation, a way out? You bit your lips, conflicted, before replying:

“No.”

“No?” he repeated, raising a skeptical eyebrow that you couldn’t see, crossing his arms. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. He wasn’t used to being turned down anymore, except for so few individuals, like Price or Laswell, that they could be counted on the fingers of one hand. That the first person to oppose him in so long wasn’t an uptight high ranking or a gutsy enemy, but you, an average civilian, was definitely a surprise. 

“I'm not taking that risk”, you added with a determination he didn’t expect.

“Ya wouldn’t be takin’ any. Nobody will be none the wiser.”

“That's not what I- urgh. I am not letting you go back injured on the field! I don't care if you're the ghost or whatever, you’re not invulnerable. So either you fill that damn file or I'm telling Price.”

“Oh? You'd snitch on me?”

“I'd do it to save your life, yeah.”

And with that, you shoved the papers in his chest, turned around and walked away. You had barely disappeared around the corner that he was already mentally calling himself a bloody idiot. Why had it been so tempting to provoke you? Because out of nowhere your usually bashful self showed audacity? Because you were absurdly hellbent on defending his expandable life? No matter the reason, he started to look at you differently from that day on.

Clearly you and him had a different definition of “crybaby”.

He deposits the stack of files he had been holding on your bureau, but as you reach to seize them, he covers your hand with his own and leans in.

You would have stared in disbelief at his gloved hand over yours if the proximity of his face wasn’t a much more pressing matter. You can feel your face warm up and you loathe it.

“Those'll still be there tomorrow, love.”

You blink in surprise at the pet name. It's like you're a spooked horse and he's trying to soothe you with sweet nothings.

“But the paperwork-”

“Fuck the paperwork.”

Easy for him to say.

“But Price-”

“I'll deal with Price.”

“My mom's in the hospital”, you brutally admit, having run out of pretext.

You look each other in the eye for what seems forever. 

“Ye take yer coffee with three sugars, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah?”

You reply hesitantly, stunned by the ask that, a priori, has nothing to do with your wholehearted confession. How did he even know that? The words have barely left your lips that he already disappeared into the corridor. You stare in disbelief at the door, mouth agape. You poured your fucking heart out and that socially inept bastard in his goofy ass halloween costume just ditched you after wringing the truth out of you like you were an interrogated enemy soldier.

Sipping the content of your mug with the Ghost's unblinking stare fixated on you is an unsettling experience, to say the least. Seated on the chair facing your desk, legs wide open, wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and gray pants, one hand holding his mug of tea, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he sat down. 

Does he seriously not realize how unnerving his starring is?

He exudes an aura of tranquil power; the unchallenged authority of someone who is used to being obeyed without question, combined with the nonchalance that comes with being unmatched. Even casually sprawled like this, he remains formidable.

A few minutes ago, he set down a steaming mug in front of you and a box of tissues - a delicate attention that sent a pang in your chest -, before taking a seat. The fingers of his free hand are softly taping his knee.

“Guess I won’t need to kill anyone tonight,” he declares in a detached manner.

You blink in incomprehension at that.

“But you don’t have a mission tonight…”

“Won’t have to kill anyone for makin’ ya cry,” he clarifies.

“Oh.”

What else can you possibly reply to that? The murder machine lounging in front of you has enough confirmed kills to make a sniper of legend green with envy.

“So…”, you initiate, not without uncertainty, “is this the moment where I get everything off my chest?”

“Do whatever ya want.” he placidly counters, shrugging.

It really, considerably, sounds like he doesn't care at all; but if he did, he wouldn’t be here.

You take a deep breath, staring at your desk.

“She's in the ICU. Paralyzed, intubated, put in a coma.”

Tears flood your eyes again. This time you don't try to fight them.

“I'm terrified for her. But, what's worse is…”

You swallow your saliva; blink in rapid succession - the tears sting.

“I can’t help but think the worst. About what'll become of me without her.”

Water overflows your eyes. The dam ruptures abruptly. Raw honesty spills from your lips.

“She’s all I have. Without her, I have nothing. I am nothing.”

The ensuing silence is deafening. You wonder what the hell you’re doing. There’s something about the man in front of you that, paradoxically, makes you want to confide in him. Despite his lack of warmth, he feels steady, reliable. A rock to lean on when your whole world is crumbling. Solid ground when it feels like everything is caving in around you. Like you could lay all your burdens on him and he wouldn’t even flinch under what feels like the weight of the world.

You feel awfully selfish to entertain that thought, but you doubt he'd ever give you the opportunity to return the favor. 

“Bollocks.”

His tone is surlier than before. You look up at him to be sure you heard correctly.

“What about yer job? Ye enjoy it, right?”

You scoff bitterly at that.

“It's just a temporary gig. I'll be kicked out in two months.”

“We can make it permanent.”

You shoot him an incredulous look.

“You're just saying that.”

“‘M not. Wouldn't lie just to make ye feel better. Not my style.”

A cynical chuckle escapes you before a mischievous smirk stretches your lips.

“I’m sorry big guy, when did you get nominated as the commander of the base? Cause as far as I know this is outside your jurisdiction.” 

A similar smile spreads behind his mask. He’d take your sass over your tears any day.

“I have my ways,” he replies tranquilly.

From anyone else, you’d call it bragging or bluffing. Coming from the Ghost, it doesn’t sound as anything but the truth. He stares at you intensely, as if daring you to doubt him again, or intent on proving you his integrity through gaze alone. 

You look away, your cheeks heating up.

Ghost never minded that you can’t maintain eye contact. Just like he’s not into small talk, or physical contact. He knows most people tend to take it the wrong way, interpret it as contempt, when it couldn't be further from the truth.

“Thank you, but I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“I’d feel like I’m manipulating you.” 

He chuckles darkly, sending a shiver crawling down your spine, one you do not know if it was born of fear entirely or attraction. 

“Oh sweetheart, you couldn’t even if you tried.” 

Another tingle. Definitely pleasant this time. You desperately busy yourself with the content of your mug, the effects of that sentence on you too intense for the solemnity of the situation. 

Your strategy proves itself fruitful until a movement at the periphery of your vision attracts your gaze. You peek without thinking, and freeze at the sight of Ghost lifting his mask above his nose to drink from his cup. One scar crosses his mouth, another departs from the corner of his lips, both ancient but deep. They don’t faze you though - truth be told, the omnipresent mask made you expect him to look like a world war one veteran, so heavily disfigured that you wouldn’t be able to bear it. 

“Enjoyin’ the view?”

He doesn’t sound even remotely annoyed, but you lower your eyes in shame all the same.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

“If I didn’t wantcha to look, I wouldn’t have taken it off.”

As you need a moment to take in the implications of that sentence, he talks again.

“What's your poison?”

“Pardon?” you reply, genuinely lost.

He snorts at your exaggerated politeness.

“Coffee isn’t gonna cut it. Whataya usually take when you feel like this? Alcohol? Cigs?”

A pause.

“Sex?”

You choke and set down your mug out of fear of dropping it.

“No, no… and no.”

“Nothing?”

He sounds doubtful.

“I… cry myself to sleep?”

It makes no sense to formulate it like a question, but everything about this is surreal.

He hums, contemplative.

“You’re not making this easy.”

“What?”

“Helpin’ ya.”

You scoff, suddenly irritated.

“You could lend me one of your guns and let me blow my brains off with it. That would help.”

 “Not gonna happen,” he counters with emphatic authority that leaves no place for rebuttal. 

“Worth a shot,” you say, trying to get the last word. “Ha, shot. Get it?”

“Very funny.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, like he’s a tired parent indulging you, a tireless child.

“You just don’t have any humor.”

The words left your lips before you could consider their impact. Yes, you never heard the Ghost laugh, but maybe he has a very good reason for that. Maybe several. Maybe you’re just a fucking asshole.

“Why are colds bad criminals?” 

Your head pivots towards him so fast you fear your neck is going to snap.

“Why…?”

“Because they’re easy to catch.”

You stare at him in bewildered silence, not quite believing what just happened, before starting to laugh, first softly, then, carried away, louder and louder, bordering on hysterical. You don’t even giggle because of the joke, but because the contrast between the silliness of it and how deadpan Ghost was when enunciating it is simply too good. That, and the nerves are probably getting the better of you.

“Never had anyone laugh that much at this one before.”

You attempt to get your breath back, alternating between pants and laughs, wiping a solitary tear at the corner of your eye.

“It’s just… you… I didn’t see it coming, jeez.”

Sighing wistfully, you take in the quietude of this fleeting moment.

“This is nice.”

“I'm always nice,” grunts the lieutenant. 

You let out a good-natured scoff, then reality catches up to you.

“SHIT! What time is it!?” you shout in panic as you violently get up. “Maybe I can still catch a bus-”

You log out of your work session, turn off your PC and shove all your belongings inside your bag in record time. Ghost barely bats an eye, still like a languid cat; a very big, very dangerous cat.

“You can spend the night.”

“No I can’t!”

You push your chair under your desk and pick up your coat.

“We can make some sorry bloke sleep outside.”

“Noooo- That's horrible!”

You have no idea if he’s messing with you or not.

“Not worse than what's waiting for ‘em on the field.”

“Well, I still can’t do that.”

“Good for you that I can, then.”

You finally look at him, an half-amused smile on your lips, raising a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Lemme guess. This is you ‘having your ways’ again, isn’t it?”

His offer is tempting. You really don’t want to be left to your own devices tonight.

He stands up and takes a step towards you while pulling his mask down and, oh, with him sitting this all time, you would have almost forgotten how much he towers over you.

“S’that a yes or a no?”

You could almost detect a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“It’s a yes, sir,” you retort while pronouncing the “sir” with as much impertinence as you can muster.

“Better keep up, then.”

And just like that, he vacates the premises, and you do have to focus to keep up because those long legs of his ain’t just for show.

As you two travel across corridors unknown to you, you wonder once again what the hell you’re doing, hanging out with this mountain of a man who’s more myth than human, and breaking the rules of a military base on a whim. Lost in thought, you don’t pay attention to the voices edging closer, and you’re completely taken aback when Ghost grabs you by the back of your shirt and drags you in a dark alcove with him. You’re so astounded, you don’t even make a sound. He takes hold of the back of your head and presses you against him to occupy as little space as possible, effectively hiding you from the men walking by. Only then you recognize Captain Price among other officers.

“Sorry ‘bout that, love,” whispers the man you’re squeezed against, barely audible, imperturbable as ever, like this is an everyday situation for him.

You don’t answer - you can’t, anyway, essentially muffled by his pecs. You should be more irked by those circumstances, but the sudden proximity set your face ablaze, therefore you’re very happy with its current concealment. 

“Price will have my head if he thinks I made you cry.”

You’re about to protest, but then you remember that one time when Soap tagged along when you were carrying a huge box back from the archives, and when Price saw you two, Soap unconcerned with empty hands, and your face almost disappearing behind the imposing cardboard, he called the sergeant a bloody useless muppet and then proceeded to call into question his ability to transport his rucksack for days. Nevermind that you were the one who insisted on carrying the crate on your own as it provided a nice workout, and that you had to bare your teeth at Soap to prevent him from taking it from you.

When the peril has walked by and Ghost releases you, you silently thank the shadows around you hiding how affected you are by this ersatz of a hug. Later, he drops you off at an unoccupied bedroom, small but including a bathroom and furnished with everything you could ever want. You say your goodbyes and your thanks at the door, and he. pats. your head. You don’t even have time to be outraged that he states he will see you tomorrow, something that sounds like a promise as much as a threat, probably in reference to the morbid fantasies you shared, and he vanishes into the shadows like a… ghost.

A/N : The real reason Ghost ran out:

He be googling “how to comfort female civilian age between 20 and **”

In the TF Group Chat (Price not included):

“We have an emergency.”

“Send as many kitten pics as possible to [Reader] … stat.”

#mine #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod fic #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost fluff #hurt/comfort #cod fluff

[v4voracity]

TOO CLOSE - SELF AWARE COD CHARACTERS X READER

⥇❥"Reader" is described as "feminine leaning" or "feminine sounding"; however, they/them and it/its pronouns are used and no bodily adjectives are used in this part because reader is only described as "that person" or "the voice". Let me know if I should make an alternate post(s) slightly adjusted for masculine or androgynous description, and if I missed any content warning tags. I plan on making a masculine version for this one due to someone's request, currently deciding if I should just slightly re-write to change descriptions or fully-rewrite it :)

  ⥇❥Word Count: 3940, excluding warnings and text above the cut.

⥇❥CONTENT WARNING FOR:

↪ body horror(?) ↪ usual “Darkfic” stuff,  ↪ yandere tendencies ↪ Angst™ ↪ possible OOC characters ↪ american author writing (mostly) british people

I totally plan on continuing this drabble with another part so some of the warnings aren't quite apparent yet teehee <3

Link to main masterlist - Link to TOO CLOSE sub-list

You have been warned, scroll at your own risk.

There was always that nagging feeling that Ghost was being watched, paranoia which he had long since grown accustomed to. But, there were always times he felt it… heighten, where this…  this strange sense of dejá vu seemed to take root in his mind. Sometimes, he felt like his movements weren't his own despite it being his will that moved those joints.

It occurred often after he joined the military, and occasionally, when in the quiet of his thoughts, he could hear something. At first, he thought it was a teammate coming through his comms, yet “the voice” wasn't familiar. 

He remembered when he first heard it. 

A quiet voice saying something he didn’t quite catch. He sighed, heavy and annoyed at himself, focusing a bit more on the radio firmly strapped to his chest as he pressed a button with a familiar practiced ease. Despite the fact he laid prone on the ground, hidden amongst foliage he had no trouble reaching it and speaking up. It was… slightly embarrassing that he lost focus and needed to repeat instructions, but he’d rather face slight embarrassment over fumbling an important mission because he didn’t want to ask for them to repeat what was said. Not that Simon “Ghost” Riley was afraid of dying. As a soldier he honestly felt more fearful that he’d fuck up a mission and get yelled at by a superior. That he’d hurt people he was trying to protect. That he’d prove that nagging voice in the back of his head right, the annoying doubtful little shit always lingering despite his confidence that had grown with experience. 

Regardless, he didn’t care to debate with himself about yet another experience that would keep him up at night, wallowing in his bed thinking about everything he could’ve done differently. “Say again?” He asked, cautious to remain quiet and hidden, yet gravely tone firm and clear enough for the other side of his line to hear. Yet no one on the other side of the line said anything previously, voicing their confusion when he asked them to repeat something never said.

Yet no other soul was around the precarious position he perched himself, his scope aimed at distant enemies. He even briefly glanced around, surveying his surroundings for possible danger, anyone, anything. Then “the voice” came through again, energetic and excited— far too unprofessional for how serious that mission was. ‘A recruit,’ he would’ve thought if not for the fact nobody else acknowledged it.

However, once the mission ended, that strange feeling faded, and “the voice” didn't appear again… 

…Until a few months later, on another mission.

The uncomfortable feeling of being watched, the almost foreign feeling of his own body, and “the voice” returned. His skin crawled.

 As if something had forcefully crept beneath it, lifting the skin and making itself comfortable in his body. Claiming it for itself as it burrowed deep into the muscular fiber, into his organs, and flowed in his veins in place of blood. It felt… parasitic and invasive. It disturbed him greatly how the feeling came and went suddenly without cause. Leaving him as it wished and then showing up without warning, without his permission. How it happened to him regardless of how steeled his nerves were. Of how experienced he became.

And, as he would soon find, no matter how intensely he looked around, nobody else was present. Yet “the voice”, which he had to strain to even remotely understand, seemed to respond as if they could see him based on the few words he could catch. 

“HOLY SHIT! He looks so cool, dude! Look at his fuckin’ rifle, his gear! This was so worth the wait. He’s got a new mask too! I’m so glad they brought him back, ugh, literally my favorite poster boy of the whole franchise.”

And if Ghost focused a little bit more, he'd notice it didn't quite sound right, as if it wasn't speaking aloud. “The voice” didn't echo around the room when he was inside, didn't echo through the air when he was outside, nor did it have the crackle of the radio. It was simply muffled, like if someone talked from a room over.

“...Uh, yeah, it was totally worth the fifty-freakin-bucks. Rent can wait, my war criminal pookies can’t! …Yes I know they’re probably not actual war criminals. Yeah, I KNOW they’re… man, you’re no fun. Let me simp in peace.”

Ghost knew he hadn't exactly been the… most sound of mind, but he truly began to worry he might have been hallucinating. “The voice” had been following him for an increasingly long amount of time at this point, and he mostly tuned it out. He recently found himself in a new group though, which led to a disturbing realization that he wasn’t fully insane. His worries about that were swiped away when Soap (his new sergeant who was a little too talkative for his own good, in Ghost’s opinion) ever-so-casually asked about “the voice” he overheard during the mission, which he couldn't quite recognize. Everyone in the helicopter was surprised on the ride back, anxiously discussing that faint voice they'd all heard— had been hearing on and off during missions. It gave Ghost a whole new fear.

It was no secret that a majority of the people in base and on missions with them were men, so that distinctly feminine voice being hard to pinpoint caused a new worry among the team. The potential breach of their communication network. The topic came up as an innocent question from Soap about who “the voice” was before everyone realized they all heard that voice, contradictory in how it sounded so near yet so far, so clear yet it hurt their heads to try and process what was said, clouding their minds in a haze if they tried focusing on it for too long.

It was a clear cause for concern. 

Their task force, Task Force 141, a highly-qualified team, who frequently had taken on missions even some of the most seasoned veterans would find difficult.

Their task force, carefully hand-picked from all corners and crevices of the globe, skills compared, packed like a puzzle to cover all fronts. Their identities and information taken apart and put back together, their secrets in the open to the prying eyes of Captain Price as he was given the authority to form a team. Personalities scrutinized against one another to ensure the utmost efficiency and dynamic interactions between teammates.

Their taskforce, the best of the best, highly efficient, a well oiled machine crafted with the utmost caution for the most risky, dirty, and sometimes immoral missions that most wouldn't be able to stomach. All for the betterment of the world and for the protection of their homes and countries.

And yet they couldn't find a single trail, not a single damn clue, about this… voice. "That voice" that came and went almost exclusively on missions, too. There were very, very few cases where it breached outside of missions. Truthfully, Ghost didn't know what he found worse. That the team heard it outside of missions where they didn't have radio communication, simply just out and about, or that it had breached past the sanctity of the missions, crossing into the supposed safe zone of their respective bases, homes, and private lives. Passing the line that they usually hide behind for comfort after rough missions, the place they went to lick their wounds, to reload their guns, and to confide in each other. And this thing, brash and bold came through, kicking that metaphorical line in the sand and bouncing past their defenses without repercussions.

It started in instances where they could ignore it. 

Where it could've been just their mind playing tricks or someone who sounded similar.

At first it was Soap, running around the track and hearing it faintly. He could've mistaken it for the music blaring through his ears if it wasn't for the fact he knew the lyrics by heart, and the singer sounded nothing like "that voice".

“Whoa, Soap cutscene. We’re being fed today. Get your bowls 'n spoons.”

He could’ve sworn he even heard a ‘clank’ of glass or something. It was worse when he realized his earbuds didn't block out “the voice” anymore than usual. It was always somewhat muffled and incoherent unless he focused, even in the quiet. Yet the earbuds in his ears didn't alter it at all. He took a longer shower than usual that day, trying to let the cold water shock him enough to forget what he heard while thoughts ran wild in his head… It ended with him being slightly late to an important team meeting and getting assigned some training as punishment. He chose to keep why he was late a secret, not wanting to startle anyone about “the voice” or sound crazy.

Then it was Gaz. Friendly, slightly more inexperienced than the rest, Gaz. Gaz was on temporary time off, having accidentally pulled a muscle in his arm. He was simply walking through the streets of a nearby town where he had rented a flat. He rarely actually used the thing, since he spent most of his time at base and it was more convenient to use the barracks. Nevertheless, he still found himself in the quaint little town, going for groceries to stock his apartment's fridge. He was weaving through the streets when he heard that odd and unrestrained laugh, snorting and uncaring if it's an embarrassing laugh. 

“Gaz… my pookie-wookie, my cutie-patootie, my absolute ray of sunshine… WHOMST THE FUCK IS DRESSING YOU LIKE THAT?!”

He probably looked like a madman with how frantically he looked around, suddenly stiffened and still as some people complained behind him from how abruptly he stopped, causing them to bump into him. Yet nothing conclusive, he couldn’t even figure out the direction it came from, much less find out who it came from. He didn’t bother talking about it, only loosely mentioning it later when it came up in a discussion.

After that it was Price and Laswell. The two of them standing in a surprisingly mundane office in the base, not expecting much when that bold-fucking-voice echoed through both of their ears. Something about being a homewrecker? They… didn’t know. 

“Laswell!!! Man I wish they had her appear more often, she’s so cool… I’d totally marry her if she didn’t have a wife… What do you mean you’d become a homewrecker in seconds? Have some fuckin’ respect for the woman. Besides I thought you liked Price? He’s… single? I think?”

But it forced both of them to lose their casual mood from before, because they both heard it and neither of them knew what to think about the fact that they were hearing it outside of missions now. That… that was very bad.

The last straw was when Ghost was handing spare masks to the team when there's a faint comment about it. He can't quite hear it, can't quite wrap his mind around what's being said. No one ever seems to make out the words; at least not fully. As if there's a barricade between them and “the voice”. A veil yet to be ripped away to reveal the person underneath. A blockade made to infuriate them and taunt their attempts.

“How many do you think he has?”

A small silence follows the initial voice, as if waiting for a response, then followed with a giggle. A response unheard to his ears, to anyone’s ears. The others tense, hearing "the voice", but no one comments on it at the moment. They had a mission to get to. But they all knew they needed to do something when they got back.

“They probably do smell. They’re out there hiding in grass, getting bloody and sweaty, sometimes deployed for a month, so they definitely stink.”

And yet nothing came of that either. The only thing that changed is that they were all aware of this voice that seemed to follow them. That only their taskforce ever seemed to hear or acknowledge it. That "the voice" came from everywhere and nowhere all at once, sounding as if it was being broadcasted directly to their brains. No trace of this thing only they could perceive, and they started coming to conclusions that were less than rational; because rational thought hadn’t gotten them anywhere thus far. Gaz suggested it might’ve been a ghost, to which Price corrected that it must be a demon rather than a ghost, Soap suggested it was some weird matrix shit, then Laswell tried to convince everyone it was some weird shared delusion. They couldn’t settle on any theories. Ghost didn’t need an explanation. Or at least, he tried convincing himself that, tried telling himself he just needed this thing gone.

These abrupt drop-ins by “the voice” went on for a long while. Something they regrettably got used to. Something they let fester and become a part of them, even if they didn't know it. “That voice” ingrained into their brains, the elated giggles, the annoyed groans, the triumphant cheers, the frequent queries, answers to questions they never heard, stupid comments, everything in-between... 

Ghost didn't notice at first. Time went on, the Task Force's missions increasing after they bombed General Ghorbrani during an arms deal Ghost intercepted. Things were escalating into a silent war the general populace wouldn’t notice, and likely never know about, kept quiet and under wraps to keep the waters calm. The voice lingering on every damn mission, somehow with all of them at once even if they were in different corners of the globe. 

Then he had a wave of realization wash over him.

It was an easy mission compared to the previous few. An easy in-and-out. Just him and Soap, watching a building from afar. Biding their time. He felt anxious, a long gone twitch in his fingers resurfacing as he felt his fingers become clammy beneath his gloves. 

He had to stay calm, stay cool. He was ‘Ghost’ right now, a walking dead-man without weakness. He was strong. This mission was easy. 

This was no time to be antsy. Patience, he reminded himself. It was just him coming down from the high of adrenaline of the previous missions, all fast paced and requiring frequent combat. That's what he tried to tell himself, when that bloody Scotsman casually began chattering over the radio.

Jokes, bad ones, yet jokes he shared an enthusiasm for with Soap nonetheless. Ghost could tell there was a slight edge to his voice as he spoke though, equally antsy. He may have been somewhat distant but he was perceptive. Picked up on behaviors in others. Read them and their emotions. It was necessary in his job, and he was sure Soap probably picked up on his nervousness as well, as he was smart, even if he sometimes seemed a little air-headed and brash at times.

"No laughs from 'that person' today?" Soap feigned offense. Then they both realized. They were anxious from the lack of that person. “The voice”. They obviously didn't know who it was or their name, but everyone on the force knew who was being referred to when someone said 'that person' or “the voice”.

 It felt laughable that they were startled by some incorporeal voice not being there. If anything, they should be grateful they were spared its presence. Yet they weren’t. Ghost laid in his bed that night, sleepless, a common occurrence for him. But tonight instead of the nightmares that played when he closed his eyes, he just… contemplated. Brooding.

It was a few nights later when he came to terms with it. He knew some things were wrong with him, hell, most soldiers had something wrong with them if they worked as long as he did. But, he found himself.. weirdly fine with it. It seemed some of his teammates felt the same way as he did, and others did not. Soap made jokes out of it, unafraid around other Task Force members to refer to “the voice”, sometimes speaking directly at it, most of the time not getting much in terms of responses. There was only really one time he could make out something from “the voice” in response to one of Soap’s direct words towards it.

“That line… didn't play last time I played this one.”

It was probably one of the only things he could make the full sentence out of, and it seems everyone else on the team heard it fairly clearly as well. “...‘That line?’” Price repeated, quizzical. Referring to it like a game. 

“Must… Must be an easter egg.” A nervous laugh followed. 

The next time he found himself on a mission with that strange feeling, as if he weren’t himself, as if something else willed his way… There was almost complete silence. Unusual, a first for that sinking feeling to be there without any noise. He noticed after the missions were over that only when he had that uncomfortable feeling was "the voice" responsive. 

“Not talkative today?” He asked, not really to anything in particular and not expecting any sort of response. He could almost intuitively tell whatever “the voice” was, was there. He was again alone for this mission and that probably was what gave him the confidence to actually speak to it. He wasn’t worried about anyone hearing him and sounding crazy. And the response? Well, it was hard to hear, almost inaudible to him, but he heard a small gasp, and a shaky breath afterwards. 

…That was probably the first time the weird feeling left his body mid-mission. As if it was the one unsettled when every time it appeared, he and his teammates felt out of control, a passenger in their own body, hazed and moving as if puppets. Hearing a voice that lacked a body, floating around and seemingly coming from nowhere. It had no echo, no substance or matter, as if the sound didn't vibrate through the air.

And it was a while before he, or anyone, heard that lovely— 

…“The voice” again. He was careful not to directly reference it. Them.

Ghost thought about it some more, and found himself talking to Gaz one night at the pub, Soap hammered, currently in the bathroom while Price tried to help him to get stable enough to get to the rented car so the four of them could return to base. “Maybe Soap wasn’t too far off with the Matrix idea.” Gaz idly swirled his cup, almost devoid of liquid and only really clinking the ice in it around. He wasn’t really talking to Ghost in particular, more-so rambling to the air and himself due to him being tipsy.

Ghost leaned back in the booth, his mask barely lifted enough to allow him to drink a bourbon he’d been nursing half the night. Didn’t want a hangover the next day, he’d already be in a bad mood since he had recruits to train and they were often stupid and infuriating. “Yeah? How so?” 

Gaz, who seemed to not really mean anything when he initially spoke, sat up straighter, more zoned in on the conversation upon seeing his Lieutenant had taken an interest in what he was saying. “I was thinking about some of the things I’ve heard, that the others have heard, and just… the reactions in general. And that feeling… I don’t know if you get it but—”

“Like you’re possessed.” He interjected, knowing what he meant. Gaz’s eyes widened slightly. While they all knew about “the voice”, it seems none of them knew that weird feeling was shared. The feeling of being possessed, watched, almost like they were prey, not highly experienced military men capable of defending themselves and others. He nodded and drank the rest of his bourbon, setting it down on the table and looking back to Gaz, tucking his mask back down over his face.

“It’s just like… Like they’re playing a game. Controlling us. The reactions… It's like when you complete an objective or something. And it’d explain the feeling, like we’re controlled. Plus with how they reacted to Soap that one time, I could see it.”

“See it? The hell you seein’?” He didn't want to believe his life was a game. But Gaz made some good points. Ghost… No, Simon didn't play many games. He’d played a few party games with his team during off-time, Price convincing them that Mario-Kart was in fact a good team-bonding activity and absolutely necessary. But his off time wasn’t usually spent playing games, it just wasn’t something he could relax enough to do, never able to get calm enough to focus solely on said game.

“Imagine you’re playing a game—”

“Hard to imagine.” He barks, slightly sorry at the tone, though he wouldn’t correct himself.

Gaz sighs and continues. “Okay, imagine that it's team bonding night, and we’re playing Mario Party. Imagine everyone having a good time, laughing, chatting, playing the game, when Mario turns directly to the screen and acknowledges you. Like, unprompted, never happened before when you’ve played the game hundreds of times before? You’d probably be a little freaked out if you knew it wasn't the type of game to do something like that.”

Price interrupts, Soap slung over his shoulder and motions for them to head out to the car after he pays for the tab. Once everyone is in the car, Gaz continues.

“It’s just, the shit they said made me think about it. ‘That line’, ‘last time I played this one’, hell, them directly talking about us talking to them as an ‘easter egg’ makes it seem pretty clear to me.” Price glanced over, raising a brow at Gaz, who was sitting in the front passenger as He drove. Ghost was unfortunately stuck with a very clingy Soap in the back seat. “It’s clear whatever they were referencing is similar to a game, one they’ve played before. “

“You talking about ‘that person’? ‘The voice’?” Price sighs, slightly exasperated at the topic. He wasn’t quite convinced about "the voice" being real. He was still slightly in denial, but his slight intoxication must’ve allowed him to continue listening to the topic, not shutting down Gaz’s line of thought quite yet.

“You see what I mean though? If you were playing a game and the character you were playing just randomly acknowledges you out of nowhere, suddenly fucking sentient, you’d probably be scared shitless, especially if they’re a normal civilian.” Price hums, and Ghost blinks slowly, taking the information in and moving away from partaking in the conversation. The reaction was pretty akin to the one from when he was alone and spoke to “the voice”.

“Who’d wanna play a game involving the shite we do? We’re a bunch of soldiers doing unsavory work, I doubt that’s entertaining.” Price shakes his head, gripping the wheel a little tighter, his knuckles slightly turning white before he relaxes his hand with a sigh.

“Maybe not to us since it’s real-life. But think about it like this, a ton of people watch horror movies or slasher films. It’s not that they enjoy watching people die or get scared, but it’s like… an adrenaline thing. And you know when ‘that person’ appears most? On missions.”

This time, nobody responded. Gaz didn’t bother continuing either, already having made his point clear. An uncomfortable air settled in the car, not even forgotten the next day, even Soap somehow was capable of remembering the conversation despite the fact his head was reeling and his stomach turning in the backseat of the car.

This time they had settled on a theory.

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty #self aware au #dark fic #yandere #drabble #oneshot #simon ghost riley #captain price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #reader insert #x reader #kate laswell #cod mw3 #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw x reader #self aware cod au #task force 141

[jymwahuwu]

Unable to get the idea of crossdressing!reader in the military off my mind😣

Instead of the men just taking you at separate times, what if they make a deal? 👀 A deal so that precious darling no longer had to go on the battlefield but only needs to stay at maybe a secluded hut(?) Or a special tent only certain members (and enemies but 🤫)

Since pregnancies will be a bit easier since doctor Luocha is here, it's easier to know who's the father after the baby is born too! Nobody can resist the glow you have as a pregnant mama so the more, the merrier, that's what they said🤭

-💦anon (going feral over Dan Feng's voice in the new animated short, he's so HOT)

I...have not tagged it for now. This topic is a bit darker than what I usually write about... ppl who want to read can read here🙏🙏🙏

CW: yandere, non-con, sexist, forced pregnancy, war (mentioned but not described), (implied) gangbang

💦 anon I love you and your brain cells 💓😚 (I’m also screaming for that precious Dan Feng clip. This dragon is so hot 🥺)

Let me think about this… crossdressing darling…

You join the Cloud Knights to contribute and protect Xianzhou, but there are restrictions on joining the army. Perhaps during a battle with the Denizens of Abundance, some Xianzhou ships received Shuhu's gift (curse) of fertility, causing the Cloud Knights to temporarily make such discriminatory arrangements. So you put on Xianzhou's usual male clothes and bribed the soldiers to join the army.

You did well, within your capabilities, with your weapon, whether it was a bow or a knife. Your performance is better than that of ordinary soldiers. Maybe you got a little carried away and forgot to try your best to hide your identity, and even sent him some comments. Jing Yuan looked at you.

The general summoned you to the tent that night. You stood in the tent uneasily. The lamp reflects your shadow, and the dark shadow falls long on the ground. He wants to know why you were so bold as to break the rules and who helped you. You pretend to be calm and ask him why he has such a ridiculous idea. However, at the general's words, tears flashed in your eyes.

He tells you to take off your clothes. To check.

“Please,” you sob. "Please don't do this."

The general slowly unbuttoned your clothes and caressed your private parts. You ended up sucking his cock that night and your mouth was sore.

Ah plus, Yingxing! He used to laugh and drink with you and hold your shoulders. He has a crush on you and built you a unique weapon to give to you, but he learned this news from the general. He hates betrayal - did you know that doing so might cause Abundance's curse to actually take effect? He headed to the tent. His cock in his crotch was so hard as he watched you being pinned to the ground and being bred.

And Dan Feng. You dealt well with his frustration of being out fighting all day. You were trembling and submissive as you poured him wine. He thought it was good. His two dragon cocks slowly stretch you. Witnessing the hot seed leaking out from between your thighs, it occurred to him that you might actually be pregnant under Abundance's curse.

Your weapons have been destroyed and your identity hidden. Luocha helps check and retest whether you are pregnant. He gently reassures you not to be afraid. You are preparing for pregnancy, eating nutritious foods, and shaking slightly in fear of pregnancy. Eventually, your belly will swell up with your baby💕💕💕

#alani.answers

[aphroditelovesu]

I'm so glad you write for shadow and bone now! can i request yandere the darkling/ Alexander Morozova with a reader who is not grisha? it can be platonic or romantic..your choice 🌷

''You are my salvation.'' - Darkling.

❝ ✟ — lady l: I just wanted to say that I am completely hungry for content from this man and I hope you guys like how I wrote this headcanon ❤️❤️.

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of death and torture, mildly suggestive, unhealthy romantic relationship.

❝✟pairing: yandere!darkling/aleksander morozova x otkazat’sya!reader.

Aleksander didn't like that at first. He didn't hate you, he hated the fact that you were mortal, an otkazat'sya, but not you, never you. Perhaps he resents the fact that you're human, but he didn't hate you. He could never hate you no matter what you did.

He met you by pure coincidence for you, but for him it was fate. Destiny, maybe the Saints, brought you to him. You were the newest cartographer in the Second Army and you were still getting used to it all, being in the army and with the grishas. You didn't hate them, but you couldn't say you loved them, you were neutral towards them.

There was nothing special about you. Just another mortal serving the military like most did. You didn't hate being a cartographer, but you couldn't say you loved it. It was your duty and that was it. Aleksander has paid attention to you since your first day, but you haven't noticed General Kirigan's curious and terrifying gazes on you.

He was content to just watch you from the shadows for a while. Learning everything he could about you that he could later use to get closer to you. You totally missed his looks, the way he seemed to devour you. He was the General and you were a simple cartographer, there would hardly be any interaction between the two of you. But there was, and he was hungry for more.

The first real interaction the two of you had was during a cold night at the military camp. You couldn't sleep and decided to take a walk, late at night and when most soldiers and grishas were asleep. Except you and him. You sat in a secluded spot and shivered in the cold. When a blanket was draped over your shoulders, you looked up to the one who gave it to you to thank them and found Aleksander's mesmerizing eyes watching you intently.

Aleksander never forgot your shy look and lowered head, as if you were too scared to speak to him. He never forgot your calm, low voice when you thanked him for the blanket, as if it was the only act of kindness you had ever received in your whole life. And he found himself wanting more, desperately wanting to hear your voice and the sweet sounds you could make. He didn't understand why he was so attracted to you, he hated the otkazat'sya, so why did he see himself wanting your attention and love?

He didn't understand his feelings for you, how desperately he wanted to protect and care for you. He's never felt this way before about anyone but himself. Aleksander just knew that he wanted you, that he needed you with him one way or another. He desperately needed you and he didn't know why, but that only you had to be his. And you would be his.

He's extremely overprotective of you, but how could he not be? You were so young, so helpless and so human. It was his duty to look after you to make sure you were well cared for and fed. Needless to say that you would get the best rooms, the best clothes and the best food. No one can even think of inflicting any harm on you, whether human or grisha, they all know you are off limits and must be protected or they will suffer the Darkling's wrath. And his wrath is not taken lightly, especially when you're involved.

Aleksander adores you, he loves you, or so he believes, but he hated your humanity. He hated that he was deeply involved with an otkazat'sya, but eventually he came to see the advantage in it. You weren't grisha, you couldn't defend yourself against him or run away if those were yours wishes, you were at his mercy and he grew to like that very much. You were in his hands as much as he was in yours, and he loved that. You belonged to him and he could do what he wanted with you, shape you any way he wanted and he wouldn't have to worry about you rebelling against him. At least that's how he thinks.

He'll manipulate you with no qualms, whispering sweet words in your ear as he worships your body and the next moment he's pouring venom into your ear, saying things like how perfect you are, how you should never leave his side. How he is the only one who loves you and who will take care of you for your whole life. How you were made for each other and no one deserves you more than him. You must always remain loyal to him and he will give you the world if you ask him to.

You became everything to him as you grew closer and closer. Aleksander will become more and more obsessive and possessive of you. He won't like it one bit if someone flirts with you, otkazat'sya or grisha, you're his and he won't let anyone steal you from him. He will show no mercy to anyone, destroying them in horrible ways, to set an example to anyone who has bad intentions towards you. You are his and he is his.

This isn't how you planned your love story with General Kirigan to go, but you're too wrapped up in his clutches, in his promises of love, to realize how wrong it is. You were so in love with him that you never noticed or cared about anything but him and the manipulations and horrors he will commit in the name of love. None of that will matter because you're together. An otkazat'sya and a grisha together forever. It would be you against the world and Aleksander will be your only company, the only one you will ever need.

#yandere shadow and bone #shadow and bone #yandere darkling #yandere darkling x reader #yandere darkling headcanons #yandere aleksander morozova #yandere aleksander morozova x reader #yandere aleksander morozova headcanons #darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #dark!au #yandere headcanons #the darkling #the darkling x reader #yandere au #grishaverse #dark!aleksander morozova #dark!darkling #yandere the darkling #yandere the darkling x reader