#// sorry for my soap box moment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

callsign-datura · 12 hours ago

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a/n: sorry for the long wait! 4.7k words, the result of my last poll, simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected p-in-v, creampie, hair-pulling, degradation, talking to the pussy

ghost didn't have many hobbies, but he did have a few he liked the most. His third favorite was being at the shooting range, his second favorite was cleaning his guns, and his first favorite was sparring.

he often sparred to ensure he wasn't getting rusty with certain hand-to-hand techniques. usually with soap, or gaz. late at night when he had energy to expel, or unwanted emotions to get out.

that's why he found himself in the gym, this time off the mat, wrapping his busted knuckles with bandages. he was dressed in gray sweats, a black wife-beater, and the mask. he flexed his fingers as he tucked the edge of the bandage beneath the edge of another at his wrist, bringing both arms above his head. he stretched, grunting quietly before letting his arms drop to his sides, squinting at the way the fluorescent lights made his head ache.

the door creaked open slowly. he tilted his head, watching you enter. you looked up and met his gaze, and he turned his head away and began wrapping his other hand with the same bandages.

you and ghost were cordial at the very least and hostile at the most. it wasn't that you got along-- sometimes his demeanor just pissed you off. so closed off, and for what? working with another person was better than working alone, to you, and you didn't understand why in the hell he was so rude to you.

you huffed under your breath, not expecting him to be in the gym so late. you watched his shoulders flex, the wife-beater a darker shade around his neck with the sweat that dampened it. he looked like he'd been hard at work for a few hours, the bandages around his knuckles tainted with a deep shade of red.

"what's the point of wrapping your hands after you've busted them on the bag?" you call, watching his shoulders shift a bit as he stops wrapping.

"i forgot to do it before." he retorts, not bothering to face you.

"didn't nurse sullivan tell you to do it before?" you put your hands on your hips. your tone is concerned, and partially, you are, but the other part of you is just looking to get on his nerves. you came here to train yourself, but messing with him seemed a bit more fun. "thought you'd remember what a nurse told you to do."

"didn't ask ya to remind me what sullivan said, i know what m'doin'." he finishes wrapping his other hand and goes back to the bag, getting into position and bringing his fists up. he starts throwing punches, the jangle of the chain and the thuds of his fists hitting the bag echoing in the room.

you approach him. "you know, sparring might be better than boxing." you offer, folding your arms behind your back as your gaze flickers over his stature. he's by no means a small man, and it's been a while since you've had the chance to spar with the other guys on base.

ghost's hands shoot out to still the bag, and his head tilts to the left. brown eyes peer at you from beneath the mask, and he huffs through his nose, looking you up and down. "tch. y'got a death wish? i've got a few inches on ya... not to mention pounds."

"i know you do. it'd be good training for me." you hum, looking to the side, then back to him. "for you too, maybe. having an agile opponent might be a bit challenging for someone so... lumbering."

"lumbering?" he asks, tilting his head as he turns to you completely. "and you... agile? got an ego, don't ya?" though he's excited at the prospect of sparring at all, so he's considering it.

you can tell you're piquing his interest, so you push it, ignoring the little jabs. "maybe a small one. sounds fun though, doesn't it? I heard it's been a while since you've got the chance."

he sighs. he feigns resignation, but there's a sparkle in his eye that you don't miss. he considers it for a few moments before he starts skulking in your direction. "you're gonna regret that," he huffs, stopping just short from you. "i've got some rules. one, you lose after i've pinned ya for 10 seconds. two, no dirty shots. i don't pull y'r hair, you don't kick me in the nuts. got it?"

he sounds so serious, you chuckle. "alright," you nod, agreeing to his terms. then you take your position on the furthest end of the mat while he takes position at the other end.

"ya ready?" he gruffs, and you nod, putting your fists up.

"alright then, you get the first shot."

"really?" you tilt your head, taking a few steps forward as you begin circling in the center of the mat.

"mm-hmm." he hums, rubbing his arms before putting his fists up. "wanna see what you can do."

you huff, then you go towards him, side-stepping and reaching out to grab his arm. you yanked on it, and he barely moved. he almost paused, somewhat amused that you even tried that. you let go and move away from him and he follows-- throwing a few punches without expecting them to land.

they don't. one disadvantage of him being so much bigger than you is the speed difference. you're so much faster than him. you can dodge faster, but if he finally gets his hands on you, you're done.

you're moving around the mat, dodging his punches and dodging it when he reaches for you, and he's growing increasingly frustrated.

"godammit, quit fuckin' moving." he hisses, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you in. he lets go to grab you by the shoulders, but before he can, you duck and use most of your strength to kick his shins, trying to debilitate him so you can get away. it doesn't work. you scramble away and he follows, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pulling you close. he turns around to throw you off before shoving you to the ground and pinning you there by your shoulders, his body coming down on yours as his knees cage you in on either side of your hips.

you're squirming, hips lifting and hands clawing at his wrists in an effort to get him to let you go. his eyes narrow, getting some sort of satisfaction at seeing you squirm beneath him.

"one," he begins counting, signaling to you that you only have a few seconds to get away. his grip on you tightens, and you're almost sure he's gonna win when you get an idea. your grip tightens on his wrist before you drag your hand up it, digging your nails into the surface of his skin. you apply enough pressure to cut the skin, and his grip releases at the same time he hisses. he doesn't let go, but you take the opportunity to throw his hands off of you and turn around in his hold, tucking your legs in against yourself and pushing the bottoms of your feet against him to throw him off. then you scramble out from beneath him, getting up and putting distance between the both of you.

"hmm," he says, eyes focusing on you before he gets to his feet. "slippery fuckin' thing." he laughs, looking at the arm you cut up. crimson dribbles from the thin red lines you've left behind, and he rolls his head, cracking his neck as he goes towards you again.

there's something different in his eyes-- he's surprised that you're putting up such a fight.

"never expected a little thing like you to fight so dirty." he says, his voice low and husky as he stops a few feet away from him, intense eyes following you as you circle him. it's obvious to him you have no intention of making the first move again, so he opts to play with you a bit instead.

"y'r crafty too, huh?" he says, his voice mocking somewhat. "didn't expect you to claw me up like that. i mean, it worked..." he turns as you do, and your eyes narrow.

"i'm enjoyin' this one, that's for sure. maybe i should make sure that you're gonna keep comin' back?" he says, his voice husky again. there's a tone in it. it's almost like he's taunting you, or-- no, that isn't it...

"it's a shame they won't scar, though." he takes another step towards you, and you look behind you to gauge how much space you have until you step off the mat. you stay where you are.

"i like having trophies from my fights... reminds me how much i enjoyed it." he keeps rambling, and you're not sure what the point of all this is. it makes you feel fuzzy inside, kind of, like he's complimenting you.

he gets closer, and his eyes narrow further. you know he's smirking beneath the mask. you look meek-- is he flirting with you? is your lieutenant flirting with you? is simon "ghost" riley flirting with you??? he throws a few lazy punches, knowing you'll dodge them.

"not at all. it's a compliment, actually. small, nimble. i bet you rarely get into any sticky situations, huh? like a rabbit," he chuckles, his voice amused as he lets go, then shoves your shoulders hard enough to make you stumble. then, to make you lose your footing, he kicks your feet out from under you.

"ain't very often i get to fight people like you, after all." he hums, not even sounding like he's taking it seriously. you're visibly nervous, and you hold your fists up defensively. he leans forward, grabbing your arm and pulling you close. the rational part of you is laughing at your idiocy, but the other part of you is melting because-- he is flirting.

"ugh-- people like me? is that an insult?" you say, your chest close to his as he leans down. his face is inches from yours, and you can feel his breath against you.

you yelp, and you fall on your ass. the sudden tone shift is enough to send you spiraling. the way he talks to you makes something heat in your stomach. he gets on top of you again, one of his legs between yours and the other on the outside of you. he puts his hands on the mat between your arms, and he stays leaned over you.

"well... not really fighting back now, are you? that's a shame..." he huffs, his gaze drifting from your face down... your chest is heaving, and your eyes are shut. your hips shift, and he moves his leg up at the same time. the curve of his thigh bumps against your clothed cunt, and it makes you jolt.

"hey!" you hiss, not expecting the contact or the look in his eyes when you finally look at him.

"what?"

"i... i thought you said no dirty shots," you retort, your voice somewhat weak. you look away, your body flooding with some sort of warmth that his closeness produced in you.

he snorts, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. "ain't a dirty shot if you're already on the ground and you've already lost. it's just... overkill." but he stays over you, despite the fact he just won. his gaze rakes over you in a hungry manner, and you can hear him suck in a breath when your back arches up off the ground.

"...you can get off me now," you murmur, avoiding eye contact. you feel shy, all of a sudden, and kind of pissed. he just won because he was toying with you on purpose to win. he was messing with your feelings! "get off me." you hiss, trying to get out from under him.

his eyebrows go up, sensing your sudden hostility. his eyes narrow. he lifts a hand and pins your shoulder down. "ah ah ah, the fuck are you doing? did i say you could get up?" he was enjoying this before, but now that you're fighting back like this he's a bit irritated.

your squirming just results in you unintentionally grinding yourself against his thigh. you suck in a breath when it happens, and your eyes narrow.

"you're such an asshole" you grumble. despite your arguing and your resistance, you press yourself against his leg.

he looks down when your hips shift. he watches the way they move, and when you finally relax, he moves above you and intentionally moves his leg to see your reaction.

your face flushes, and you whimper, looking away.

"well... look at that." he murmurs, his voice lilted and knowing. he looks up at you and makes eye contact, pushing it against you again to elicit another noise from you. you moan once again and your lips curl, eyebrows knitting in response to the jolt of pleasure he causes.

"isn't that cute?" he teases. "does that feel good?" he says, his voice almost mocking as he lifts his thigh and presses it against you, gently pushing it against you in an even motion to make you squirm even more.

"g-god, you're such an ass," you moan, body falling limp and losing whatever ounce of fight you had. you still mouth off. "do you do this with everyone you spar with? i-is that why soap is always asking you to spar with him?"

he rolls his eyes. "shut up, girl. i'm surprised you have the audacity t' speak to me that way when you're gettin' off on my fuckin' thigh." his voice is almost scolding, but he doesn't grind his leg against you any harder. just goes slow... it's almost torturous. you can already feel yourself drenching your panties. it's a culmination of this entire thing. the way he smells, how close he is to you, the way he's staring at you so hungrily... all of it is making you salivate, except your mouth isn't the only thing drooling.

your head falls back, and your breathing is already so heavy. he tilts his head forward, and his lips are on your neck. you feel the wetness of his lips, the itching brush of peach fuzz, the fabric of his mask rolled up over his nose against your neck-- all of it makes you shudder beneath him. he nips at the flesh of your neck, pulling gently and kissing at the reddened flesh afterward. he puts his leg down, and places himself between your legs, one hand cupping the back of your thigh and lifting it to press himself against you. you feel the outline of his dick through his sweats, semi-hard but at attention. the girth of it catches your attention, and when he feels your body stiffen he chuckles.

"hush. we'll make sure it fits, doll." he murmurs, his voice husky and low, sending shudders through you with how close he is to you. he doesn't grind into you from that position. rather, his hands travel up and down your sides as he kisses your neck, sucking small hickeys and trailing them down. his hands shove your shirt up and over your chest, doing the same with your bra. he's intense, and very aware of what he wants-

you.

his eyes focus on your tits. round, perky and the perfect size for him to hold. so he slides one hand up to cup and fondle your tit, his thumb quickly traveling over your nipple. it pebbles and perks beneath his touch and against the cool air, and he hums. he salivates. he wants to taste your skin. drag his tongue over your flesh, feel the goosebumps that raise beneath his tongue. but he can't. he has to make sure you come back for more and that's exactly how he will.

and as always, he'll get what he wants, one way or another. you squirm beneath him, and noises attempt to claw out of your throat but you keep quiet. you don't want to let on how much you're enjoying this, but the subtle rock of your hips gives it away.

"tsk tsk tsk. are you really this impatient? haven't even done anything yet." he snickers, pulling back to look down at you. he pulls his mask back down before you can see anything, and he leans forward with his hips a bit. your legs still hover against his hips, your knees drawing together as a result of your embarrassment. your lips part and you pant, chest heaving once again.

his other hand slips down to your hip, lifting your legs up and together, over his shoulder so he can pull your pants and panties up your thighs.

"such a pretty girl. you know, i've had my eyes on you for a bit..." he starts. once your pants are around your thighs and he has enough access to you, he brings the hand that was on your boob, to your mouth. he eases his pointer and middle finger into it and your eyebrows knit at the taste of sweat. "suck," he instructs. you do, cheeks hollowing briefly as your tongue laves along his fingers, coating them in spit.

"hmm... always wondered whether or not you were the obedient type, but i never got a chance to break you in and find out." he chuckles, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and bringing that hand between your legs. he drags the tips of his fingers through your folds, humming when he feels how wet you are. you can hear how sloppy it is, and he laughs.

"i guess i wouldn't be breaking you in as much as her," he snickers. your face reddens and you look to the side, panting once again as he starts easing those two fingers into your sopping cunt. you comprehend then that the her was your pussy.

"mm-hm, tight, as i thought. are you that nervous?" he teases, tilting his head as he scissors those two fingers inside you. the feeling knocks the air from your lungs, and you gasp, bringing both hands to your face to hide how embarrassed you are. despite that, your body gives away how excited you are, your hips shifting and your back arching as his thick fingers curl inside you.

if you're moaning, your pussy is screaming. the wet noises of his fingers working you out is embarrassing and brings heat to your face, but you can't really focus on that.

it sounds so lewd, and it is. you let out a gasp as he pushes them deeper, the sheer girth of his fingers causing your gummy walls to strain. your thighs clench and your hands ball into fists. his other hand pulls your pants and panties off completely, humming as your legs fall apart.

"s'it that good, doll?" his voice is husky and low, teasing. he's getting off on your reaction to his touch. "c'mon, girl, look at me..." his fingers stop, and you whine, shifting to look at him. they start moving as soon as your eyes fix on his, and your lips part. you moan again, your lips curling.

"c'mon, talk to me." he encourages, and his touch is downright sinful in comparison to his tone. "does it feel good? this what you wanted when you started grinding yourself on my leg?" he chuckles to himself. "never woulda thought you were this kinda girl if i hadn't of seen it myself..."

his thumb moves, and flattens over your clit once he turned his wrist over. he rolls circles over it slowly, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on the outside of your thigh.

you squirm and whimper, and it takes everything in him not to just pounce on you. instead he opts to listen to your moans and the sound of his fingers inside you. he curls his fingers and inches them deeper until your body jolts, and he hums in approval at your reaction.

"s'that the spot...?" he asks, leaning forward as he curls his fingers against that spot again. you jump, the coil in your stomach growing ever tighter as you moan in affirmation. the pleasure is making your head feel light, your eyes fluttering shut again and your head falling back against the mat. you're squirming and shifting again, and you feel sweat on your neck and chest. you whimper a bit, the air feeling sticky and humid between you both. it's hard to tell whether that's just your body heat, or it's him.

and you whimper at him. you can feel your orgasm encroaching, and he can feel it too. your cunt squeezes around his fingers and he can feel you throbbing. your body tenses, and your orgasm is right there--

he removes his fingers. you slump down, tilting your head to the side and huffing in frustration when you feel so suddenly empty.

"...this proves that you're just... an asshole..." you grumble, bringing your legs together.

he's thick. slight upward curve, blushing tip and definitely not lacking in length.

there's silence on his end, and when you look at him, he's pulling his sweats and boxers down.

"can't be much of an asshole if m'gonna dick you down," he purrs. you don't look, but you feel his cock hit the side of your thigh once he takes it out. a hand wrapped around the base, he gives a few lazy pumps, smirking to himself beneath the mask when you lift up to look.

"hmm? s'this good enough for you? such a rude girl, calling me names," his voice is teasing. he shifts forward a bit and then lines himself up with you before he moves both hands to cup the back of your knees and lift them. he moves you just a bit closer. He shifts his hips, then without warning, pushing himself into you up to the hilt.

you gasp. he's big, and you wish he had told you he was going to do it so quickly, because you weren't expecting it. his size takes a bit for you to adjust to, the sting and the stretch causing you to squirm once again. he grips your hips to still you, and he hums. "shh... you can take it, can't you?" you continue to whimper, and he laughs. "so pathetic. s'it too big for you?" he mocks, leaning over you once again.

"so fuckin' messy. look at you, girl. maybe this-" he emphasizes that with another particularly hard thrust that causes his tip to attack your g-spot-- "is what you wanted all along. maybe you asked me to spar cause you wanted me to fuck the shit out of you," he huffs, his voice low and raspy and his movements aggressive. you can barely speak aside from squeaks and squeals, the feeling of his hips slamming into yours causing your vision to go white. you couldn't respond outside of gasps.

god. yes. yes, it was too big-- and it took you a while to adjust to it. he started moving once your hips started shifting into his. he tilted his head forward, tucking it into your neck and grunting quietly. you're still sensitive, so when your lips part in a moan, it all feels so intense. your back arches and your legs push apart, welcoming him. his thrusts are shallow, yet careful, (for now), and he grunts into your ear. you squeeze around him, and your head tilts back as you moan out, hands finding his shoulders and digging your nails into it. Your eyebrows knit and you whine.

"y'r pussy's noisier than you are. listen to her," he goes quiet and fucks into you harder just to emphasize the paps of his hips hitting the back of your thighs and the squelches of your pussy clenching around his cock. your slick dripped down your cunt, getting his sweats damp a bit with it-- he moved one hand up to pull your hair, tilting your head back so he could talk in your ear.

"fuck," he cursed, pulling your hair again and chuckling when you cried out. you were lost in the feeling. the feeling of him, the feeling of his cock and how roughly he fucked you.

"hah!" you mewled, your back arching up off the mat. you grabbed at his shoulders in utter desperation. your eyes crossed and you tilted your head to the side, your body jolting with each thrust he offered you- getting gradually rougher.

"y'sound so slutty, moaning for me like that... keep doin' it, pretty," he hummed, staying close as he rutted into you with a force that might as well have caused you to shriek. he let go of your leg, and both of them closed around his waist, ankles locking at his lower back.

"m'gonna cum," you whimpered, your voice soft and meek. he chuckled, and his movements got a bit more aggressive. he lifted himself up onto his hands, keeping them just over your shoulders and looking down to where your bodies met. his fat cock was pounding into you over and over, the squeezes of your pussy enough to make him moan a little bit himself. he looked up, meeting your gaze.

when he finally came, you were still on cloud nine, wailing and squirming beneath him when his hips slammed into yours and he spilled spurts of hot cum into your pussy. the sensation was almost enough to make you cum again-- especially when he ground his hips into yours, his tip grinding into your g-spot. plus his lovely groans were sending you straight to heaven. the noises he made were mostly groans as he fucked into you, making your entire body shudder from the feeling and the sensations flooding your body.

your eyes were glazed over. visibly lost in the pleasure and focused on nothing but your impending orgasm, he took that as encouragement. he took your legs again, sitting up and pulling them together but pushing them against your front. the angle allowed him to get impossibly deeper. each time he slammed into you, his tip hit your g-spot, applying enough pressure to graze the plug of your womb and create more tingling, burning pleasure.

"oh! oh, fuck--" you gasped, folding a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. your heart was pounding in your ears, and you swore you almost fainted when your orgasm finally fell over you. the feeling of the pressure releasing had you seeing stars, shaky crying moans leaving your mouth. your back arched and tears pricked the corners of your eyes. you were sure you'd be bruised on the inside by the next day.

"that's it baby," he hissed, his grip on your legs tightening. "atta girl..." he purred, his tone tense with his own incoming orgasm. he wanted to help you ride out yours first, so he did. his hips kept that brutal, hungry pace, slamming into your drooling pussy with a fervor he didn't even know he had. he wasn't much of a talker in the midst... you didn't notice that he'd gone quiet, though, too absorbed in the aftermath of your orgasm.

he groaned out, his eyebrows knitting beneath the mask as he tilted his head forward to watch himself pound you. "take it... that's it, fuck..." his tone was still encouraging, but it faded as his pace started to slow. your entire body was still ebbing with pleasure and tingling with the overstimulation of your orgasm, and you were almost struggling to come back to the earth. you were both still panting.

when he pulled out of you and tucked his cock away and fixed his sweats, he looked at you-- his tone was full of pride. "well... fuck... look at you, huh?" he tilted his head, sounding awfully smug. he retrieved your pants and panties and helped you get re-dressed.

"you know... that wasn't the kind of session i was expecting, but damn... i think that was the best i've had in a while." he stood up and helped you to your feet, patting your ass once or twice as he held you up while you regained your bearings.

"...whatever, ghost," you grumbled, still holding onto your stubbornness even after you'd been sent to heaven and brought back.

"you know where to find me. don't be afraid to come get some if you're in need," he hummed, "not like i'm in a position to deny ya."

#simon ghost riley #callsign datura #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw3

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neoarchipelago · 1 year ago

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Just saw a TikTok where a kid send their favorite stuff animal to his dad who's deployed. Just imagine this happening with 141 🥺 (I'm actually sending this to my favorite writers hoping I can get a cute scenario 😅)

That sounds adorable... I melted at the thought. Sorry it got very angst with Ghost but I'm feral for this man and I'd give him babies any time he wants.

Warning: slight NSFW, f!reader, angst and comfort

Price:

Price would frown but have a little smirk, watching the recruit hand him a cardboard box. His smile spreads when he notices figures of who it is from.

He wouldn't mind opening it in front of the team. They'd be busy bickering anyway.

He swears his heart stops for a second and he sees the soft thing. He could recognize it in the middle of the battlefield, the awful thought putting a ping of anger in his heart.

He'd be silent for a moment, looking at the round pink thing, his mind instantly wandering home, to you and your daughter.

He took the tiny note, scribbled a bit. "Keep you company daddy. Love, mom and me"

He swears he could cry right now.

He keeps it in his barracks, hidden so well no one ever glanced at it until he left. He wouldn't dare taking it with him, not wanting to soil it with he horrors of the battlefield.

He hugs it at night, until the day he returns, his daughter running to him as he holds the stuffed animal who kept his sanity strong.

He makes sure to worship you that night, thanking you silently for making him the happiest man on earth. In the morning you're sore but oh so happy. He whispers sweet nothings as he helps prepare breakfast, thanking you for giving him a daughter and home to come to.

Soap:

Soap would be thrilled to see the box for him. He wouldn't even wait to open it, under the amused gazes of the team.

He'd smile brightly at the sight of the little shark, immediately taking the note to read it out loud "to help you fight daddy!"

He run around the room, holding it up in the air, voicing to his team how happy he was, how proud of his son and how he absolutely loved you for giving him such a gift .

He'd keep it at all times at base. The round thing on the table in front of him during meetings.

He calls it Sergeant Sharky, everyone starting referring it by the same name.

At night he hold it tight, it's more intimate. He can let himself feel the way he misses home, almost tearing up. He knows you're waiting for him at home, probably preparing for his arrival.

He swears he's the happiest man alive.

When he gets home he tells stories of Sergeant Sharky on the battlefield (never anything gory) his boy being in absolute amazement over how his favorite stuffed animal was a hero with his dad.

He absolutely ravages you that night, almost begging you for another kid, begging to make him a daddy again. He just praises you for being the best mama, the best wife. He has you limping by morning as he holds his son, running around with him as he winks at you, subtly hinting to his son to ask you for a sibling.

Gaz:

I feel like gaz would open it with the team too. Though he'd be much more hidden and private about it.

He immediately smiles when he sees the little white bear inside of the box. He can't help the sadness and yearning he feels almost immediately.

The images of you, laughing in the morning as his son jumps on the bed to wake him up makes his throat burn slightly.

He found the indulging gaze of Price who noticed the fluffy thing.

He'd read the note to himself, hiding it from anyone's gaze.

"to take care of you daddy" he has to blink away the blurriness.

He'd be more secret about it, but as soon as his in his tent the toy is with him at all times. He finds himself sometimes talking to it. "Yeah... I miss home too. We'll go back to them."

He finds himself with a new strength, the battle almost feeling less heavy on him. He's doing it for you. For his son. To try and make the world a better place.

He almost runs home from the airport, throwing the front door open, bags dropping to the floor as you see him. Your mouth opens slightly, shocked, but he sees the relief in your eyes. He kisses you deeply, the sound of tiny running footsteps from the hallway making his heart stammer in his chest.

He's home. That night he makes love to you, lovingly, sweetly and with such love that you find yourself crying and clinging to him. He finds himself absolutely loving the way your son runs into the room by morning, waking him up. He doesn't give a shit how tired he is.

Ghost:

Oh god... Here I go...

When he's handed the box, he frowns. He immediately retreats to his tent to open it. He freezes when he sees the white and brown bunny.

He's scared to touch it. His gloves feel disgusting and tainted with horrors. He rips them off his hands, putting the box down on his bed to rush to wash his hands. They're clean, albeit sweaty but he just can't seem to shake away the feeling of blood on them.

When he finally let's himself touch the soft thing he holds it like it's the most fragile thing he ever touched. It shouldn't be here. So close to him when he's a monster right now.

The note breaks him. "Come back to us" it's your writing, she's too small to write. But there's a tiny sun scribbled in pencil next to it.

He rips off his mask bringing the bunny to his forehead as his head bows down, closing his eyes. He's crying. He feels guilty from being away from you. From his daughter. From home. Home that you allowed him, after he had thought he'd never be worthy of it.

It stays in his things. Hidden. He very rarely takes it out. Tries to not look at it too much. He's almost protecting it from even witnessing the base. Keeping it away from Ghost. That he tried to keep at the front door every time he came home.

When he gets home he needs time. It's always the same. He calls you, announcing that he is back. He takes 24h to remain on base, letting himself split from the battlefield. He needs time. You know it. You understood it.

When he gets home you notice something else this time. His eyes look at you with such adoration that you catch yourself almost hyperventilating. He often looks at you with love and care. But right now he looks at you like you were his goddess, his air and life essence. The same look he gives your daughter, like she's the only thing that ever matters to him.

He sits on the couch later, handing the bunny to his daughter who beams at the sight of her bunny back. He softly thanked her for sending the bunny to him. Softly explains that she should keep it home, it'd get dirty with daddy. You noticed the subtle message underneath his words. You want to hug him. But of course she understands. Such a clever girl.

He fucks you passionately and hard. He marks you with hickeys and bites, he gets lost in you, lost in your scent, the soft sheets are freshly clean. Your moans anchor him to his new found paradise.

He's got a small need to breed you again. But he'd talk to you about it. Beg on his knees if necessary, hoping that you'd be merciful to grant him another miracle. (As if he needed to do anything else but simply ask. Like you weren't the one who'd kneel for him if he asked.)

If you were the one to start the conversation, about, perhaps, maybe, if there was a chance, at some point "just spill it out love" "I want a baby... Again"

Absolutely feral. Literally throws your pill to the trash. It's on.

Doesn't let go of his daughter for days. She's in heaven as daddy holds her whenever she wants, reads her stories and plays with her. He keeps bending you over the nearest surface if she's napping or playing at a family's house (extremely rare, he's a protective wolf over her)

Spoils her rotten, he feels so guilty for leaving for such long periods of time. Spoils you as well.

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criminalamnesia · 11 months ago

Note

If it's not too much would you consider a roommates! Gaz and Soap where you need temporary housing and they offer to put you up for a couple of months in return for some housekeeping and cooking? But then it's awkward sharing a space with three people and two bedrooms so you end up a free use maid ✨

so I’ve been thinking about this,,, and I’m actually changing your idea a little bit (I hope that’s okay!)

also I got completely carried away with this and I miiight already be thinking about a part two where things get a little spicier, like you asked! 👀 keep a look out :))

(also I will 100% write for roommate!johnny&gaz eventually but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head!)

you’re soap’s sister, and when you tell him you need a place to stay, he doesn’t hesitate.

it didn’t click in his mind how your moving in may pose a problem until he’s helping you pack your stuff into a van.

one— he lives with gaz, and he may have forgotten to tell his roommate that they’re adding a third to their already small apartment.

two— there’s only two bedrooms.

gaz was currently on a special assignment, so these two things weren’t a huge problem at the moment. johnny shoots his teammate a text, informing him of the predicament and apologizing for just now telling him.

gaz responds, obviously a little peeved, and johnny’s suddenly absorbed in his phone, trying to soothe ruffled feathers and make this work.

you’re huffing as you keep shoving boxes into the van, your muscly brother now too preoccupied to continue helping.

“little help here, johnny?” you call from the trunk, and johnny startles from his spot leaning against the side of the truck.

by the time he clicks his phone off and resumes helping you, him and gaz have settled things.

you’d have johnny’s bedroom. johnny could sleep in gaz’s room until gaz got back home. and the rest would be worked out at a later date.

————————————————

you’ve never met gaz before. sure, johnny has told you all about his teammates and his roommate in particular, but you’ve never actually met the man until now.

he makes you screech in terror, holding the broom you’d been using to sweep the kitchen up like a sword. he chuckles.

“how’d you get in here?” your eyes are wide, taking in the man in front of you, and then it clicks. you remember the pictures johnny had shown you.

this was gaz.

and fuck, he was hot.

“I live here, love.” he says, his tone obviously amused as he looks you up and down. “gonna put that down? or will I be sporting some broom-shaped bruises for the next week?”

“oh, sorry—” you scramble to put the broom down, leaning it against one of the kitchen counters. “I didn’t hear you come in, and johnny didn’t tell me you’d be home today.”

“he didn’t know,” gaz shrugged, walking further into the kitchen now that your weapon of choice had been set aside. “where is he, by the way? we’ve got a lot of talking to do. gotta figure out this room situation.”

you pick at your cuticles anxiously as you shuffle out of the way, allowing gaz to open the fridge. he grabs a bottle of water and twists the lid off, and you’re mesmerized.

wait, what?

you mentally shake yourself from your stupor.

“um, he’s at the gym i think. he should be home soon.”

gaz nods, taking a swig from his water. his eyes settle on you once more as he shuts the fridge door.

“but about the bedrooms,” you start, taking a step towards him. “johnny can have his back. im fine with the couch, and—”

“oh, absolutely not, love. I’d sooner take the couch than make you sleep on it.”

“no no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’ve already caused enough problems by moving in. please let me—”

he cuts you off again with a dazzling smile. “it’s settled, love. you’re not sleeping on the couch. and your moving in isn’t a problem, trust me.”

damn, he’s smooth. you feel your cheeks getting hot, and you have to force yourself to look away from him before you melt.

“okay, well, if you won’t let me take the couch, at least let me do the chores and stuff, yeah? it’s not like I have much else to do,” you tell him with a dry chuckle. the whole reason you’d resorted to moving in with johnny was because you were between jobs right now.

you quite literally had all the time in the world to help around the apartment.

kyle almost looks like he’s going to protest again, but he doesn’t. he must see how much you want to do this, how badly you feel for ‘interrupting’ (you’re absolutely not, and although he’d been miffed about johnny not asking him about you moving in at first, he couldn’t care less now. you were stunning).

at his silence, you give a firm nod. “alright then,” you grin, and he matches your expression. “nice to finally meet you, gaz.”

“kyle,” he says, and your smile widens the tiniest bit.

“kyle.” you say, as if testing the word out on your tongue.

“sis, y’home? I was thinking chinese for dinner!” johnny calls out as the door to the apartment opens. he steps inside, toeing off his shoes before rounding the corner to the kitchen.

“you shite!” johnny laughs out as he spots gaz in the kitchen. they both chuckle, embracing each other in short hug, slapping each other on the back.

“y’broken?” you hear johnny ask, and gaz shakes his head.

“nah, all good.”

johnny nods, patting gaz on the shoulder before his eyes shift to you.

“see y’ve met my sis,” he says, moving towards you and ruffling your hair. you groan, slapping at his hand. gaz laughs. “hope she hasn’ given ya trouble.”

“I just came in,” gaz says, eyes meeting yours for a brief moment.

“so she hasn’ had the chance yet, then,” johnny jokes, and you roll your eyes. “chinese alrigh’ gaz?”

the other man nods, and the two soldiers fall into familiar conversation. you feel as though you’re intruding, and you attempt to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed, but gaz stops you by mentioning your name.

“I was just telling your sister that she’s not sleeping on the couch,” he tells johnny, and then his eyes slide to you. you look sheepish, like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

“oh, o’course not,” johnny agrees. “I can take the couch, she’s my sister.”

“we could switch, yeah?” kyle looks at johnny. “that couch isn’t that comfortable, mate. I don’t wanna be hearin’ you complain about your back in a few days.”

johnny laughs, but nods. “sounds good. looks like you’re livin’ the life then, aye?” he says to you, and you open your mouth to speak, but kyle beats you to it.

“actually, we were just talking about all that. your lovely sister here was saying she’d like to keep the flat clean.”

“s’that so?” johnny questions, eyebrows raised as he looks at you. “y’don’t have to do that.”

“I want to, johnny. it’s the least I can do after barging in on your lives.”

you can tell by the look on your brother’s face that he’s going to argue, so you swiftly cut him off.

“no arguments! it’ll give me something to do anyways.”

johnny concedes, then excuses himself to shower. you tell him you’ll order the food as he leaves the kitchen.

you and kyle are alone again, and his eyes are trained on you. you clear your throat before fishing your phone out of your pocket.

“what’s your order?” you ask him.

kyle grins. he knows what he’s doing to you.

god, this was going to be an interesting stay.

—————————————————

author’s note:

this is my first time really writing both johnny and Kyle, so I apologize if they seem ooc!

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cloudypariah · 1 year ago

Text

How to perpetrate and sabotage your own kidnapping: A guide for dummies.

- The creation of the board (and its subsequent discovery)

Summary: Step One: host a brainstorming session with your teammates on how best to kidnap your future abductee. Step Two: have said abductee show up half an hour into the session and begin correcting your entire plan. Step Three: realise at the beginning of their impromptu presentation the target has absolutely no idea that they’re the target. Step Four: fail anyway.

Pairing: Dark!Poly!Task Force 141 x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Content tags: Dark content - Discussions around kidnapping, tense situations. If this is not your cup of tea, please go and find something different might better suited your palate. This is an 18+ fic meaning minors do not interact with this work. No one has permission from me to repost, copy or translate my work. No one has my permission to put my work into any AI source.

Notes: This is my first foray into the COD fandom and will be the first part in a dark comedy series. Please let me know what you think. Not proofread very well, sorry for any mistakes! Thanks for the motivation @live-love-be-unique !

Link to Task Force 141 masterlist / Link to COD masterlist

Captain John Price likes to think he knows his men well enough to trust them when his back is turned. Now that itself doesn’t necessarily mean knowing each and every one of their dirty secrets - he definitely wouldn’t come out smelling like fresh daisies if any number of his were revealed - but it does mean that he has the awareness to recognise that they all share one particular secret.

He sees it in the way Lieutenant Riley’s body language shifts when you give him his medical forms to look over, your consideration at offering him the option to disclose only certain personal information making the reserved soldier relax just enough to offer you a low thanks, accompanied with a stare that stretches on for a few moments longer than considered socially polite.

It’s also so amazingly obvious with Sergeant MacTavish. John’s surprised everyone else misses the way Soap’s smile takes a little longer to fade after departing for yet another mission, your swift congratulations on completing yet another physiotherapy appointment - “ Keep it up the good work big guy” - leaving the Scotsman floating on cloud nine damn near until the plane lands.

And how could he forget Sergeant Garrick? The man’s quick to change his tune and focus up, but the captain has observed Kyle absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder, thumb gingerly stroking the spot where your palm was only moments before, your figure long gone as you retreat down the corridor to where you came from.

No, Jonathan Price doesn’t miss a thing about his men. And it only takes two weeks and a long chat in the corner booth of the bar one quiet night - sans you or Laswell - before somehow his place becomes the meeting point for an unusual, though not unwelcome, topic - you.

More specifically, how to keep you.

The wooden shit box of a sports bar was where the first two facts were confirmed amongst them: 1. Every single one of the 141 men wanted you for themselves, but they weren’t above sharing. 2. You weren’t worth killing each other over, not when there was a much easier solution staring them in the face.

John’s house became the go-to place to discuss fact number three - They needed a plan.

It was Gaz who initially suggested the whiteboard after numerous interjections from Ghost and John; from everything to how to keep this from Laswell, to deciding which of your usual hangouts would provide them with the best opportunity to commence your “relocation”, to how to delicately but firmly explain said "relocation" to you once it was complete. Kyle loves his brothers in arms and never regrets a moment where his life is on the line if it means saving any one of them, but his patience began to wear thin when Soap got bored and started using goddamn paper planes instead of words to get his point across. At that Price finally relented and bought the damn thing.

Now, John was expecting you to pop by his place on Wednesday night to drop some papers off. A perfect opportunity, were it not for the fact that the gentlemen were still disagreeing on where to relocate you. However, it’ll allow you to grow more comfortable with him while he has some alone time with you, your presence like a balm on a wound - soothing and necessary (at least to him).

He had been looking forward to seeing you… tomorrow. So when you turn up not just on the doorstep but in the middle of the bloody hallway in his own bloody home halfway through the 141 “guys night”, his secondary action of shitting bricks quickly overrides his primary instinct to eliminate the threat.

He’s on his way back from the bathroom when he sees you standing, familiar folders firm in your grasp - fucking hell, is that his spare key too? - and a sour expression on your pretty face.

Your eyes narrow further when you spot him, striding over with fury rolling off you in small waves. “Captain Price, I know you did not leave these dossiers on my desk just before the end of my work day with a note stating they all need to be completed by the end of the work day.”

John’s senses are briefly overwhelmed by you being so close to him, the sight of you angry having a different effect on him than what you had originally intended. He’s never seen it before, and his hand twitches when you’re less than a foot away - fluctuating adrenaline or the desire to reach out and hold you, he’s not sure which is more prevalent.

He always forgets to not be so obvious around you, but it isn’t as though you usually notice. (He’s not sure if the thought should make him feel sad or grateful.)

The sounds of his men arguing in the background, merely the next room over, are enough to bring reality crashing down hard.

His voice is deliberately loud and stalwart when replies. “You can’t be here.”

“Tough shit. Your lads night can wait.” You lean past him to the origin of what your gut was telling you was the sounds of the remaining 141 members quarreling. It’s easy to slip past Captain Price once your mind is set, the push of files against his chest preventing him from reacting for a few seconds - all the time you need to move down the hallway to where everyone else is bound to be.

John is quick to rush behind you, the arguing noises having swiftly changed to near cartoon-like crashes just moments before you enter the room.

Ghost has migrated to the corner of the sitting area, standing as stiff as a fucking nutcracker, a mountain of crumpled notes and paper planes spilling out from between his arms. (His mask is still on thank god because it’ll hide exactly how caught out he feels, and if there’s one thing Simon Riley cannot stand it’s feeling like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar). His eyes instinctually watch your every move, waiting for your reaction.

Both of your gazes drift to the other side of the room, with neither of you failing to notice how the couch cushions are strewn widely across the space, (with one being stuck on top of a bookshelf for some odd reason) to find not one, but two soldiers gecko’d to the standing whiteboard.

Their demolitions expert is currently splayed out on the left side of the board and desperately grabbing the top of its metal frame, his stomach pressed into the cold porcelain and a left leg hitched up in a poor attempt to conceal the incriminating writing.

Price’s protégé is in a similar state. Dear Gaz has his back against the right side, with his arms outstretched to - much like Johnny - cover as much of their group planning as possible, a coloured marker clasped in each fist.

Two deers in headlights.

The sight of his task force is enough to bring back flashbacks of his original conversation with Kate about bringing these men together because Jesus H. Christ, what the fuck was he thinking?

There are a few moments when nobody moves or dares to breathe…

… except for you, of course.

You waste no time walking over to the two youngest members of the 141 as you attempt to shove them off the board. “Move,” you demand, palms pushing firmly against their sides. “I want to know what’s so important to everyone.” When they refuse, you do your best to stare at them, pleading with a pleasantly soft, “Please.”

Yeah, they both do what you say with ease when they hear that, giving you enough space to take in the somewhat smudged scribbles.

You miss the signal John gives Simon, the Ghost moving closer to your position as John quietly locks the door, and when your attention is drawn back to the board after the other two move you also miss all of the knowing looks shared behind your back. This was very far from ideal, but how can they recover from this?

They hope you understand that whatever comes next, they didn’t plan for it to start this way.

Kyle and John call your name but you ignore them, still processing the information written in front of you.

Johnny flexes his hands, preparing for the worst as you step back and say, “This is… bullshit.”

Every single member stops. That was not the reaction they were expecting.

Turning to face the group, you scoff. “I’m not even kidding. Firstly, you’re using guys' night to work, which is horrible for your mental and emotional health. And you should all know better.”

Four sets of brows furrow in united confusion. You don’t let that deter you from continuing, your arms gesturing haphazardly at the whiteboard. “Secondly, this is hands-down one of the worst brainstorms I have ever seen. This is not cohesive in the fucking slightest. Garrick, mark me.”

Kyle chokes on his spit, his brain short-circuiting before he sees your fingers wiggling at one of the markers he’s holding. The sergeant promptly gives it to you.

Your free hand takes turns pointing at everyone else in the room, a verbal command of, “sit down” directed at each man also. Dumbly and cautiously they all do. Ghost places himself at the end of the couch nearest the entrance, John strategically chooses a spot between yourself and the kitchen, and Soap and Gaz sit closest to you, where the two of them can hear you muttering under your breath as you draw what appears to be a massive cloud shape in the middle of the board.

Once completed, you fill your shape in with the word ‘TARGET’ and slam your free hand against the board. No one flinches, but if one were to look closely there would be some eyes widening in response. Johnny swears he sees one of your eyelids twitch.

“So,” you call out, “what do we know about the target?”

There are not only wide eyes looking at you, there are full glances exchanged between your audience.

“Seeing as you had the nerve to not invite me in your little meeting while keeping me on overtime” - Kyle and John squirm at that, and your finger makes a little circle - “we are going to be working on this project together. With all due respect, I’m not asking.”

Surely not…

And it’s when Captain John Price reviews the writing left over from the others that he realises Kyle and Johnny did one thing right during their clusterfuck of a coverup.

They managed to erase your name.

… you have absolutely no idea you are the target.

A piece of writing far in the coroner catches your attention, and your shoulders slump. “The target likes knitting and ‘The Karate Kid’. In another life we would have been the best of friends.” A dramatic sigh leaves you, “Oh well, at least I’ll be able to give you some insight into the mindset of this individual. Any questions?”

Four hands shoot up.

Rubbing your hands together with glee, a maniac smile grows on your face. “Excellent.”

#dark!141 #poly 141 #darkfic #task force 141 x reader #dark task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #sergeant kyle gaz garrick x reader #cod x female reader #female reader #cloudypariah writes

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 1 year ago

Text

pervyroomate!Satoru who can't believe his luck when you answer his online ad for a roomate: "What made you seek out a male roommate, honey? Ain't cha scared the big bad wolf is gonna get ya in your sleep?" You scoff with a heavy eye roll. "Fuck no." He can't stop the smile slowly forming on his pretty face. 'Ya should be.' He thinks, already imagining how'd look naked and squirming beneath him as he made you cry on his cock.

pervyroomate!Satoru that despite his amazing mouth-watering muscles, he mostly watched as you move your belongings into his spacious 2 bd apt: "What the fuck, Gojo? You specifically demanded I not hire movers as you're 'stronger than any of those limp dick fuckers.'" You can't see how he leans against the wall amused, arms crossed and intently staring at the way your small cotton shorts gets lost between your plump brown ass cheeks as you struggle takin boxes to your new bedroom. "Sorry, the views just so damn spectacular. Lookin so fuckin good, baby." Your cheeks warm in embarrasment as you abandon the heavy box, rush into the room and slam the door. Satoru only chuckles, fixin his raging boner as he heads downstairs to get the rest of your stuff.

pervyroomate!Satoru does anything he can in the upcoming weeks to rile you up by any means: "Gojo, put on some goddamn clothes for christ sake. My girls are gone be here soon and none of em wanna see that fuckin shit." You grumble as you sit on the couch and turn on the Netflix app. He laughs heartily, dramatically ploppin down next to you. Its impossible not to notice how his naked chest ripples, how low his black briefs sit on his hips. His hypnotic ocean blue eyes linger on your thick cocoa thighs before meeting your gaze. "Fabrications. Your BFF cornered me in our kitchen just the other day.. Damn near begged me to dick her down. Wanted so bad to tell her I'm savin that for you." He leans in close to your stunned face to whisper his last sentence and gets up, heading to his bedroom. Your left starin at his spot on the couch with wide eyes and wet panties.

pervyroomate!Satoru purposely switched out the dark shower curtain a few months into you moving in with a clear one, finding any reason to disturb your alone time: "Hey y/n, need to brush my teeth real fast." Doesn't bother knocking, quickly stepping in before you have time to cover your wet body. His eyes seem a shade darker as he scans up and down your soapy, naked frame. A small 'fuck' escaping his pretty lips as he stares unashamed. "Gojo, what the hell?!" You screech, arms quickly covering your glistening breasts as you cup your other hand over your pussy. You could literally melt on the spot at the way she clenches at his intense gaze. "Get the fuck out!" The damn pervert looks on for a moment longer, actually having the audacity to palm his cock a few times. "Okay okay, baby, damn. Why you gotta be like that? You showed me yours, don't you want me to show you mine?" He asks with pouty lips as he finally backs out the bathroom, arms raised in surrender. You stop shielding your tits to throw a bar of dove soap at his stark white locks. He only chuckles, quickly shutting the door to avoid impact. "Fuckin creep, Gojo!!"

pervyroomate!Satoru flirts with you relentlessly, crossing every boundary and every line over the next few months: "You gettin the snacks, babe?" Satoru calls from the front room. You roll your eyes at the pet name before you feel a stinging SMACK! to your plump behind. "Ow, Gojo! You fuckin asshole. Quit it!" You swat at the childish nuisance but he dodges your attack easily, leaning against the kitchen counter a few feet away. Fuckin guy has spent the better part of the day smackin your ass while yelling 'Smack Ass Friday!' like a damn teenager. "Awe, come on pretty! Love watchin how your ass bounces when I do it." He coos at you before swerving a bag of doritos you quickly chuck his way. "Boy, I don't give a fuck. You touch it again and you're goin down." It's insulting how lightly he takes your threat; walking right up, grabbin a handful of each ass cheek and smashing your hips together. His half hard dick feels chubby as fuck against you, girth of him makin you gasp and clutch as his shoulders. Your insides clench at the feelin of him pressed against you. "Fuck, I been waitin to go down on you. Name the time and place sweetheart." He tells you sweetly, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip, kissing you on the cheek and retreating to the living room. Damn this man must love leaving you speechless, heart and pussy fluttering to his dirty words.

pervyroomate!Satoru notices how much you love how he smells: whether it's his natural scent or cologne. You take his shirts without his permission too often, only wantin the ones he'd previously worn. Loves how he comes home late one night and catches you in one of his stolen white t-shirts. Neckline pulled up to your nose, tittes jiggling wildly underneath as you play with yourself. He stares between the crack of your bedroom door, hand swiftly squeezin at his dick as he watches you mindlessly rub yourself over your underwear. y/e/c eyes shut tight, quietly moaning his name like a fuckin prayer. "Toruuuuu! Fuh-uuuck Satoru, love how you smell. Mmmm, soooo good. Want you so m-much, need you to fuck me Toru!" His mouth hangs wide open as he humps his hand faster atop his light blue jeans, absolutely entranced how you frantically rub at your throbbing lil pearl. "Ahhhh! Oh my god, Toru please!" He's so greatful for a front row seat to witness you cum like a fuckin virgin. Fuck are you one?Can't help his deranged whisper as he commits the scene to memory. "That's it, baby. Cum for me. Fuck.. I know that lil pussy's so gushy for me right now. Can't wait to see it up close, gonna make her cream all over me pretty girl." Head pushed back into your fluffy pink pillow, pretty y/h/c hair splayed out makin you look like a goddess in the throes of passion to him. "Wanna cum on your cock, Satoruuuu!" His shirt rides up on you, showing him how your tummy pudge jiggles as your body convulses into an arch. You bite your lip to muffle the rest of your pleasure. It's okay. The sight is enough for Satoru. He paints the inside of his new jeans immediately, free hand cupped over his mouth as his eyes roll back, his hips repeatedly jerking his clothed spasming cock into the palm of his hand.

pervyroomate!Satoru who asks you the nastiest shit just to see you sexually flustered: You're in bed reading, back against the headboard with Satoru's head in your lap. Your hand carelessly cards through his soft hair, nails lightly scratchin at his scalp. So cute the way he whines at you to continue everytime you accidentally pause as you get to a good part in your book. "Hey baby?" His voice so innocent that you know for a fact the next words outta his mouth are gonna be filthy as fuck. "Yeah?" "How come you only call me Satoru when you're on your back, fingers in that pretty lil pussy?" His tone is laced with the genuine wonder of a child asking a simple question. Your jaw might as well be on the floor. "G-Gojo!" Shocked exclamation half accusatory, half scolding. "What? I really wanna know, y/n. Sound as pretty as you looked in my shirt when you moan it like you did the other night; made me cum so hard listenin." He's lookin up at you upside down but you're absolutely mortified, using your book to hide your face. What do you even say to him right now? "Aww, baby don't be shy. I do it when I think about you too. Cept I usually have a pair of your panties up to my nose." He shares with you happily and unapologetic, pulling the book from your fingers to toss it to the floor. "I wanna hear you say it like that again." Turning on his belly to leer at your clothed pussy through your tiny bottoms. Your breath picks up in anticipation, starin as his fine ass leans foward and gives a slow lick from slit to clit. The urgent, intense sensations has you squealing out his name as you slide both hands into his hair. "Satoruuu!" Slidin your shorts to the side, admiring your moist plump pussy lips. "Fuck baby, say it again. Just like that." He commands you, latching onto your sensitive lil button. All you can do is comply, buckin into his mouth as you wail 'Satoru' over and over to the damn heavens.

#black reader #all readers #black fanfiction #dirty talk #sub reader #pussylicker #pussy eater #perversity #jjk smut #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x black y/n #gojo satoru #chubby reader

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 1 month ago

Text

I want my daddy.

Reader x Cod characters. (König/ Soap)

You're the mother of a beautiful brilliant girl/boy who enjoys your company until it's bedtime, that's daddy's turn and tonight, daddy's not at home on time.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Warning ⚠️: None, just grammatical and spelling errors, maybe not so good but work drained my brain.

König.

Your daughter has been looking through the window the entire evening, waiting patiently for her father who promised to arrive on time to sing her to sleep.

She already took a bath, brushed her teeth, she's waiting and asking about the time.

- What time is it, mom?

- It's 19:30 pm baby, daddy has 30 min to arrive or we will have to get ready for bed without him.

- No, he promised it! He will make it!

Your little girl is getting anxious since the sky is getting darker and there's no signs of her dad so you decide to call him, maybe he will not respond but you will leave a voice message.

To your surprise, he responded.

«Mein Leben (my life), I'm in the middle of something, what's up?» (shooting noises were in the background)

- You will not arrive tonight I assume.

«Nein, we had trouble and we haven't arrived at the rendezvous... (More shooting) Scheiße! (Shit!)... Tell my Kleine (little one) I'm deeply sorry, Ja?»

- I will, but you will have to win her pardon. Stay safe and come home in one piece, okay?

«Ja! I will. I'll be there in the morning Meine Liebe (my love) Ich liebe dich so sehr (ILYSM)»

- Okay, wir lieben dich auch (We love you too)

As soon as the call finishes, your daughter runs to you with some tears In her big Blue eyes.

- Daddy is not here yet! Can we wait five more minutes?

Kneeling down and cleaning her tears you explain to her why König hasn't arrived yet, needless to say she wasn't happy.

«But I want my daddy!»

You tried to fix her night by letting her sleep with you, she stayed at König's side of the bed, you also let her put some of her daddy's cologne to her teddy bear so she would feel her father's fragrance all night.

But the most difficult part was to sing her special lullaby, your German is not very good.

Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf,

Der Vater hüt' die Schaf,

Die Mutter schüttelt's Bäumelein,

Da fällt herab ein Träumelein.

Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf.

Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf,

Am Himmel zieh'n die Schaf',

Die Sternlein sind die Lämmerlein,

Der Mond, der ist das Schäferlein.

Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf.

Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf,

So schenk ich dir ein Schaf,

Mit einer goldnen Schelle fein,

Das soll dein Spielgeselle sein.

Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf.

By the end of the night your daughter slept as well as any other night, but still she missed her dad, she murmured his name a couple times, you weren't upset with your husband, it wasn't his fault but you weren't happy either, your daughter wasn't the only one who missed his presence.

The sun and the sweet smell of melted butter and homemade strawberry jam woke you up, your daughter ran to the kitchen and there he was, her daddy was preparing his special Austrian breakfast. In a way to apologize for breaking his promise. Holding and squeezing both of you between his arms was the best moment of his life after all the horrors he lived before you, he never had faith or believed in a god's plan until you appeared on his way, now he feels blessed and thanks every time he successfully finishes a mission, the best reward he can obtain is arrive home to hug and kiss both of you.

Soap.

Your son is a stubborn child, a mini version of your husband. Every Friday, Soap appears at the door with a bunch of food and candies to start the father and son's weekend.

So, from Friday to Sunday night, your little boy forgets about you, his attention is all for Johnny, you sometimes feel jealous, but mainly, you feel proud of this kind of relation between them. The problem is when Johnny can't come home.

And tonight, that's what is actually happening, your son is waiting at the doorframe, he refuses to leave his vigilance spot.

- JJ, Dinner is on the table!

- Where's dad?

- He will arrive any minute, leave that door and come here now, please.

- No, I want to receive him... He said he will bring a surprise.

- McTavish! You have five seconds before I...

Your phone rings before you can start a discussion with the little boy.

«Hey gorgeous! How's everything going over there?»

- Thank God you're calling, your son doesn't want to leave the door, he's waiting for you. Hey! JJ, Dad's on the phone!

«That's why I'm calling, there's an emergency here so I will not go home tonight...»

- Wait, you're on speaker.

- Dad!? Where are you? It's Friday night!

«Hey buddy! I know, but I'm still working... Uncle Simon needs me for a mission so... I will not arrive tonight, but mom and you can spend time together»

Your son's face is red as an apple, anger is filling his little body.

- But you said we will play videogames all night!!

- Videogames All night?

«(he laughs nervously) Don't say that in front of mom, I'll be in trouble.»

- You promised it!

He hits the table with his hands and leaves the kitchen while you and Soap in one voice yell at the boy «Don't hit the table!». After some minutes discussing, your husband convince you to give your son an extra hour of playtime. You, not so happy agreed, you're against rewarding him every time his father can't be with him.

Going upstairs you can hear your son playing, clicking the mouse and keyboard hardly, once you're there in the doorframe you can see him playing but not enjoying, then an idea popped up.

- JJ... Do you want me to play with you?

He observes you from head to toe, looks again to the PC and simple mutters.

- Do you know how to do it?

Scoffing and clearly offended you sit at his side.

- Of course I know, your father is not the only one who played all day when he was young,huh.

He lets you try, you're nervous since it was almost 8 years ago when you played for the last time. Technically since your son was born. But you quickly understand the game, instantly you're killing and dominating the game, your little boy is amazed, time later, both are yelling, laughing, cursing, clicking the keyboard as fast as both can, time ran and none of you had noticed how late it is and you haven't heard the principal door opening until Johnny scare both of you.

- Well, well, well, What we have here?

- DADDY!

- Fuck! You scared us! I thought you would be here tomorrow evening.

He laughs loudly while is hugging your son.

- Sorry love, I wanted to be here so badly to surprise JJ I ended that mission as fast as I could.

- Dad! Mommy is amazing! We've been winning! You never told me she beat your ass when both played videogames.

You're sitting there looking at your husband proudly while his jaw is almost hitting the floor.

- Buddy, mommy learned all those moves from me.

- No, that's not true, she's better than you.

- Okay, gentlemen playtime is over for tonight, it is almost 3 AM.

Both men start to complain about you ending the funny time, but in the end lights are out, Johnny takes your son to bed and reads him a story, while you're changing your clothes. After some minutes your husband closes your bedroom door and looks at you with a playful look.

- What?

You say looking at him through the mirror.

- You'll have to pay for revealing my secrets love.

He approaches you slowly while you're turning back to him.

- It's not a secret honey, You're not as good as me in videogames.

Suddenly you're between his arms, both kissing and starting a different kind of games.

- Oh Lord, How much I love to be at home.

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

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look Hal, as much as I fucking DESPISE soap’s death.. i am in need of a fic where price delivers his wife his tags. pls, i need to be hurt again by you 🥲🥲🥲 (ik reqs are closed honestly im just hoping to put an idea in your head fjfhsjfh sorry)

A short drabble to make your pain worse, dear anon:

You stare blankly at the finely dressed man on the doorstep, a black leather box in his hands.

It isn’t a stare that can be defined on any level of emotion—nothing shown on a face in a time such as this can be. Some instances transcend any known sense and logic; all perceived ability to understand leaks out of a brain like water in a blown dam.

There wasn’t an explanation for this.

John looked on, and he started to speak as if you’d never known each other. As if your Johnny hadn't had him and the rest over for your engagement party—as if he hadn’t watched you pour him tea and smile softly in thanks as Johnny’s arm snaked around your shoulders.

“On behalf of the 23rd Regiment of the Special Air Service,” you don’t even blink. “I, Captain John Price of the 22nd, offer my—”

“Stop.” Your voice is shaky, and your hands are clammy on the door knob. The man can’t look at you. He clears his throat, blue eyes blinking at you; so similar to Johnny’s and yet never the same at all.

“...My deepest condolences—”

“John!” Your voice moves in a sharp yell, taking a single step forward. “Stop it!”

A heavy silence falls like a hammer.

Your lips open and close, stuttering. Where were the words? What could you say? The tightness of your chest crashes down on you; a cinder block of ruthless realization.

Your husband was never coming home.

Hand snapping up to your mouth, you stifle a loud sob that rips through your lungs, shoulders hunching in.

“Where is he?” You gasp, tears flying down your face. “John, dammit, where is he?!”

For once in your life, of all the times you’d spoken to him, the Captain had no answer. Blue eyes stay stuck on you, box outstretched on hands that you see quiver for a moment—a clench of his bearded jaw and a movement of his head to the side.

Like some cruel joke, you laugh through the bouts of sobs, unbelieving.

“John,” you plead, barely able to see or get the words out. “Please tell me where he is. He has to come back home to me. John,” you move forward, grasping his shoulder, digging your nails in as if to wrench soil out of a burial plot. It’s frantic how you speak—all gasps and desperate whines to a God who isn’t listening to you. “I need him. H-he promised me he would come back. I-I…” You struggle to breathe.

“Love,” John grits out, forcing his tongue to move. His eyes are pained, but never, never as much as yours are. It’s said on a low and defeated breath. “I couldn’t save him.”

You collapse as his arm, which snaps to circle you and tries to keep you up as you wail in agony. Tears stain John’s uniform and the neighbors come outside at the ruckus of a woman who just had her heart ripped out with a rusted knife.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, throat tight. “It’s all my fault, I’m sorry.”

But you can’t answer, because the only thing you have left of Johnny are pieces of blood-splattered metal and memories.

And one day, you’d forget the sound of his voice—the way he touched you; how it felt to be kissed and held and loved so fiercely as if on fire. A blaze of devotion, yourself covered in gasoline; eager to be burned by a man you’d skin yourself for only three more minutes with, if that was all that could be spared.

You plead for it in John’s arms—scream for it. Three more minutes. Three more seconds.

If not that, then just three last kisses.

Johnny was dead, and everyone, especially the man trying to keep you from hitting the ground; taking the hits you lay on his arm numbly, knew that you had died with him.

The tags of a man long past glint in the setting sun.

#cod mwiii spoilers #mwiii spoilers #halcyone answers #cod x reader #cod #cod x you #x female reader #call of duty x you #soap call of duty #soap mactavish #soap cod #john soap mactavish #soap x you #soap x reader #cod x female reader #tw death #tw blood

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punkitt-is-here · 9 months ago

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Glad someone else likes movie Twi lol. I’ve been in the fandom since before the movie came out and I have seen so. Much. Discourse abt that scene. It’s like yes we know that the power of friendship conquers all this is my little pony friendship is magic but Twilight is not always genre aware especially when she’s panicking lol. Anyways yeah its cool and good to have ur characters react poorly when they’re put in unfathomably stressful situations, sorry for using ur inbox as a soap box lol but I just love how positive you are abt the stuff you like. Keep being you :)

Yeah! I mean it's hard to write a movie without conflict and I do genuinely like that they were brave enough to make their main character just actually fuck up and do something bad. I feel like the movie does quite a good job hammering home how desperate she's getting with how much is going wrong and I think it's far from out of character for her to revert back to old bad methods of dealing with stress when her entire world is in danger. It was a good moment imo

#my posts #asks #horse talk #blueberry2345

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honeylullaby · 2 months ago

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I'm really loving all your Rivals. You write all the characters so damn well! I love your fluffy Rupert ones♥️

I do have a Rupert request if that's alright?

Could you do something about Rupert x reader and horses? (I ride horses so him on/around horses just makes me melt lol)

But maybe they met while out riding or on a foxhunt or reader is a former showjumper as well? These are just ideas so please feel free to take liberty!

hello darling, thank you so much!! it means the world! you know where i am if you ever wanna see anything else 🫶🏽💋 i must say, i have tried my very best but i have 0 knowledge of horses so if i get any equine terminology wrong, pls inform me and i shall wash my mouth out with soap!!! 🧼

“You can ride my pony anytime, darling.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by this sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Whilst out riding his horse, Rupert encounters a woman after his own heart…

Short Work.

18+ FANFIC / Soft 🥹 Rupert 🥹 Reader character aged at 21. As always, request what you wanna see in my ask box for any character 🥰

The utterly pleasant sound of galloping could be heard throughout the secluded bluebell woods of Rutshire village. It was undeniable that your favourite pastime was riding your outstandingly beautiful chestnut Dartmoor pony — truly a thing of regal beauty. The serene surroundings of the bluebells filled you with tranquility. You cackled with laughter as you bolted through the woods, smoothing down the chocolate mane of your beloved pony.

Turning a rather sharp corner, your pony suddenly rears and lets out the most shocking neigh. “Woah, girl, steady.” You belt out, leaning forward and gripping onto her to steady yourself, terrified of being tipped off. Surveying the area ahead of you, you spy the most beautiful horse— an Irish Draught, dappled in white and grey. Atop of him, was a particularly chiselled face that you didn’t quite recognise. “Sorry about that,” The man spoke, “We did rather appear from nowhere.” You learnt forward again to whisper in your pony’s ear, stroking the top of her head and giving her a gentle kiss.

“What’s her name?” He asks, grinning at the magnificence of your horse. “Cadence.” You beam with pride, slipping your feet out of the stirrups and jumping down onto the wooded ground. “Yours?” You question in return. The man takes a moment to stroke his horse’s snowy mane. “Love Rat.” He replies. You snigger slightly but suppress it and push out an uncomfortable cough, realising he was being deadly serious. “Rupert.” He introduced himself, removing himself from Love Rat’s back and slowly making his way over to Cadence, stroking her face softly. You introduce yourself in turn, and watch with a solemn smile at the man’s gentleness.

Taking your opportunity, you make your way to Love Rat and give him a gentle kiss just above his nose. “You’re a gorgeous boy, aren’t you?” You whisper in adoration towards him. “Thank you. I know.” Rupert replies, smirking in self-righteousness. Rolling your eyes at his humourless joke, you tut and hoist yourself up on the stirrups. “Hopefully I’ll see you here again. You can ride my pony anytime, darling.” The enchanting man winked towards you as you clicked at Cadence, bounding off in the opposite direction, your heart twirling something crazy.

#rivals #rivals fanfic #rivals fanfiction #rupert campbell black fanfic #rupert campbell black x reader #rupert campbell black #rupert campbell-black #requests <3

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backseatsoldier · 17 days ago

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Home for the Holiday

Pairing: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader/You CW: Mispronunciation of Gaelic words; CUTE MUH-FEKKIN' FLUFF! Author's Note: Happy holidays to ME- and all of you! Thank you for reading and engaging. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season <3

For Christmas I decided to send myself "home". As in Scotland, the place I'd never been but that I was always drawn to. It always felt like home, so why not treat myself for the holidays, you know?

Somehow, my gift to myself led me to Fiona - the owner of the bed and breakfast I'm staying at - inviting me to her White Elephant party. I suppose the theme of the party helps. I don't know anybody attending so I just need to get a silly gift to (hopefully) make people laugh. Everything was fine and going smoothly... until now.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!"

I'm now on my knees on a snow-covered sidewalk and trying to scoop up my White Elephant gift after running directly into...

"Alright, lass?"

Fuck me... he's a local.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm ok," I assure him and I reach for the goofy gift.

"Is this... a..."

Before he can finish his question, I'm desperately shoving the joke gift - a Highland Cow tail butt plug with a pretty Christmas bow attached to the end - back in the bag. Why couldn't it have been in a discreet box?!

"It's for a White Elephant party," I say quickly once it's back in the bag.

Finally, I look up.

Oh, he's... painfully pretty. That just makes this worse.

"What about this guy?" he asks with a lopsided smile as he holds out the Highland cow plushie I bought myself.

"He's... for me," I say quietly and gently take the plushie back, tucking him into the top of the bag.

"Got a theme going there, lass," he chuckles.

"Figured... it might make my life a bit easier to stick to some kind of theme, y'know?" I offer softly and stand, hugging the bag to my chest.

"You sure you're alright? Didn't hurt yourself or the coo when you fell? And I'm sorry too. I wasn't paying attention."

I shake my head quickly.

"No, no I'm ok. So is the, uh, cow," I tell reassure him with a small smile and brush some snow off the cow's fuzzy head. "I should, um, get going. I'm sorry, again. And... nollag kridel."

"Nollaig Chridheil, lass," he chuckles knowingly.

"Oh my god," I whisper as my head falls and my eyes go wide. I didn't even pronounce it correctly! Without another word, I turn quickly and fast-walk away.

"You made it!" Fiona exclaims and throws her arms around my shoulders. "Get in here," she says as she pulls me into her house. It's literally just a private entrance to the bed and breakfast.

Within a few moments I'm in the building, my (wrapped) gift is under Fiona's tree, and a cute elf hat has been placed on my head. Fiona gently sets me on the couch next to- oh, no. Nonononono-

"Oh, so you're the surprise guest Fi was raving about," Painfully Pretty laughs loudly as I beg whatever higher power for a black hole to swallow me up.

"Yeah," I give an awkward laugh, "that's me. I guess."

"You two know each other?" Fiona says as she hands me a hot chocolate.

"We bumped into each other yesterday in town. And the Highland coo," he chuckles.

I should have wrapped the cow. I should have wrapped the cow. I should have-

"Oh, that adorable plushie you walked in with? I was wondering where you got 'im. Cute little Christmas sweater and all," Fiona laughs - very similarly to Painfully Pretty.

Conversation shifts off of me and to other guests who are still arriving by the minute. Soon enough, Fiona's living room is packed full of people and one dog. His name is Riley and we made fast friends. I, admittedly, have been hiding in the corner hanging out with him most of the party so far.

"Time for gifts! Johnny, help me get these piled in the center of the room," Fiona demands of Painfully Pretty. Apparently his name is Johnny.

Once all of the gifts are piled where Fiona wants them, we all migrate to the surrounding furniture. She gives us the rundown for how the gift exhcange works and we all begin drawing numbers from a Santa hat. When it's my turn, I grab a random gift and begin opening it.

It's a... Highland cow in a holiday dress and crown.

"Aw! Now your other guy's got a friend," Fiona announces excitedly.

I smile softly at the plushie and smooth out her dress.

"Yeah, I guess he does," I agree and smile at her.

"You should name them," Johnny suggests with a soft look in his eyes.

"I think I will," I nod and smile at him.

When the exchanges comes to an end, Johnny lingers in the living room with me.

"I was hoping you'd be the one to choose her," he says quietly. "Was worried she would be chosen and unappreciated until Fiona dragged you in here."

"You... brought her?" I ask, looking up from the plushie in question.

Johnny nods with a gentle smile.

"Glad the lad won't be lonely this Christmas. It was nice to meet you, officially," he says softly, lopsided smile lighting up his face.

"It was nice to meet you too, Johnny. Thank you for Christy." With a small smile, I hold up the plushie and tap it's nose to the end of his.

"Nollaig Chridheil."

"Yeah, I'm not trying to say that again," I insist with a giggle.

He laughs loudly.

"Why not? It was so cute when you said it last time."

I can feel my face warm at his words and his smirk.

This year's Christmas gift to me might turn out better than I originally expected.

Scottish Gaelic Translations (per Google Translate, apologies if incorrect!)

Nollaig Chridheil - Merry Christmas

CoD Christmas (Meet) Cuties Masterlist

#backseat soldier #rhi_writing_adventures #call of duty #cod #john soap mactavish #soap x you #soap x reader #christmas #christmas gift

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rainybubbles · 1 year ago

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Which love tropes are COD men ?

Ghost, Gaz, Soap, Price, Alejandro,Rudy, Keegan

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC. )

G H O S T :

Right person, wrong time

-It was an ordinary encounter, perhaps in a quaint grocery store or a bakery.

-He, a familiar face, gradually wove himself into your routine.

-Initially, only glances were exchanged : your curiosity met with his suspicion.

-But as time flowed, recognition blossomed, evolving into a delicate dance of shared secrets.

-There were playful glances.

-Some to mock this harsh client, some to exchange silent greetings, and at times some to secretly admire one other.

-There were also your doodling on his napkins when you gave him his pastries or pieces of bread.

-At first he remained oblivious, but over time, these doodles found a place in his home.

-Secretly kept in a box.

-It became an intimacy that defied words.

-Slowly the spark between you melted his ice barriers.

-The reason Simon were a regular or even in your country, was a year-long leave- a medical hiatus, owing to a wounded leg.

-Anger and fear consumed him upon hearing this news.

-Work was a means to escape the looming solitude within, it allowed him to not think

-Thus, he stumbled upon your bakery, where the comforting scent of freshly baked cookies invoked nostalgia, but of a sweet, rather than bitter kind.

-It reminded him of his mother.

-One year.

-The realization struck when he noticed your pastries were now baked within the walls of his own

kitchen, and your fragrance clung to his clothes, no longer limited to your bakery.

-At that moment, he made a decision.

-Because he knew he would not settle in here.

-He would not live here or stay here.

-And he knew he could not contact you again.

-And he couldn't bear to ask you to wait for him, knowing he might never return alive.

-So one fateful day when you saw him walking perfectly fine, you understood.

-He was healed. A year had passed.

-You stood so close that your lips nearly brushed against each other.

-On the verge of a kiss, he whispered softly "goodbye" instead of "I love you", as if the fact to not pronounce it could erase your feelings with time.

-Yet, in the years that followed, both of you wondered "what if we had dared that kiss ?".

-Right person, wrong time.

G A Z

Friends to lovers

-You both shared a profound friendship.

-During this friendship, you harbored a silent infatuation for Gaz, but you never acted upon it; it ebbed away gradually.

-It all began on a mundane summer night.

-Conversing upon unassuming plastic chairs, the balmy summer night caressing you, and laughter exchanged, you both reveled in the moment.

-Unexpectedly, Gaz felt a gentle warmth, briefly mistaking it for a passing delight, he didn't grant it much thought.

-Months later, in a dimly lit bar with the 141, Soap regaled the group with his comical misadventure- a disastrous date with a man convinced he was a vampire, who attempted to bite his ear. Amid the laughter, he posed a question, "Who is your ideal date?"

-"Myself," Ghost replied.

-Gaz and Soap chuckled.

-"You're a cocky bastard, L.T,." Soap said.

"Just confident Sergeant."

-"I'll choose Beyoncé or Donald Glover," Soap declared.

-Gaz grinned and was about to select a celebrity too, but he halted himself when your image was the only one that filled his mind.

-He parted his lips and fabricated an excuse before excusing himself for some fresh air.

-Perhaps he was intoxicated.

-Yes.

-Why would he... why would he divulge such feelings when you had been friends for years...

-He contemplated how at ease he was in your presence.

-How you supported him through the darkest days of his PTSD during his leaves.

-How you delved into the intricacies of PTSD, your fervor for your hobbies, and the way your smile etched a subtle crease on your cheek.

-How... how it transcended platonic boundaries.

-He retrieved his phone, prepared to send you a message.

-But fear seized him.

-Then he sighed. He was a soldier, a valiant man, prepared to wage war even in matters of the heart.

-He sent a message.

-And deleted it.

-And sent it once more before locking his phone and returning to the teal ambiance of the bar.

-When he settled back in his seat, Price wore a knowing smirk.

-"It was about time, son," Price smiled."

S O A P :

Unrequited love

-Soap was akin to a radiant sun, drawing people into his orbit effortlessly.

-Gazing upon him unveiled an entire solar system, one that included the 141, his beloved family, and a constellation of friends, all revolving around him like celestial bodies.

- It was as though every shared moment had forged an invisible gravitational pull, igniting a constellation of emotions within your heart.

-The magic lay in the details-how he remembered your favorite song and serenaded you in his car, never allowing his gaze to wander from yours.

- He ensured your seamless integration into the group, an attentive listener in moments when you believed no one else was.

-His smile, an ethereal response to your mere mention, bespoke the devotion he held for you.

-Thoughtful gifts crafted solely for you, tender touches, and sincere compliments on your attire, each detail etched itself into your soul.

-You believed in the possibility, for the very first time, of experiencing love's tender embrace.

-It was a sublime euphoria.

- Then, as suddenly as a meteor strike, reality set in Soap had found love elsewhere.

-At first, bitterness filled your heart.

-You wondered if there was a chance, a missed moment... Yet, he had another partner, then another, and another, and another.

-But never you.

-You recognized your own selfishness.

-In a lifetime of wanting nothing, you yearned for his affection now. Tears welled in your eyes. Then, a text arrived.

-He shared news of a successful date. As you gazed at your reflection in the mirror after reading his message, a smile tinged with tears danced upon your lips.

-You understood that your feelings were your burden to bear, not his. Despite the agony it brought, you genuinely celebrated his happiness.

-With a sigh, you locked your phone, only to feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I know, love. Come here," whispered a voice.

-You found Gaz.

-You sobbed in his arms when you recognized his glance.

-His glance was the same as yours: an unrequited love

-"I'm sorry, Gaz."

-"It's okay."

-"I'm sorry, I wish..."

-"Don't finish that sentence," Gaz gently admonished.

-Soap resembled the sun, but you had forgotten that drawing too near to the sun could result in burning.

P R I C E :

First love

-Not his first lover, but unquestionably his first love.

-During high school, Price embodied the quintessential sportsman, often hailed as the golden boy.

-He was orchestrating a fundraising endeavor for the grand ball when a cacophony of voices reached his ears from an empty classroom.

-It was your partner who had left you in the lurch, callously disregarding your feelings.

-Your partner had callously remarked how he was fully aware that you lacked alternative companionship.

-And he took perverse pride in this knowledge, exploiting your social anxiety, knowing you wouldn't dare to present yourself alone at the ball.

-As this asshole exited, you crossed paths with Price.

-You nodded your head in acknowledgment, you extended your assistance upon noticing Price's dedication to decorating the ball. His acceptance was unspoken yet understood. Moments passed.

-"Are we going to ignore the elephant in the room ?" you inquired.

-"Why should we? It was evident he would ditch me. I only asked him because I didn't want to go alone. I... was just hoping that he could endure my presence until the ball."

-"Well, if you seek a partner for the ball, I happen to know a certain sportsman who is kinda handsome " Price joked, clearly referring to himself. Your laughter echoed through the room.

-"Thank you, but there's no need. Just helping with the decorations allows me to feel involved. Besides, I'd likely faint amidst the crowd and festivities," you confessed. Price nodded, his understanding unspoken but profound.

-Yet, every evening after school, he would find you, ostensibly seeking your assistance with the decorations.

-Initially, you took it at face value, only to realize that Price had a deeper motive when he requested your help in crafting delicate paper flowers, while you knew there were already real flowers for the big day.

- It became apparent that Price had orchestrated this ruse to enable you to savor the ball in your own way.

-The bond between you grew stronger.

-Through strokes of paint, collaborative DIY projects, and shared tasks, your afternoons transformed into cherished moments.

-In your final session before the ball, you thanked him.

-Price smiled.

- Then he went to the ball with the girl he promised to go with.

- The night was enchanting.

- However, at the stroke of 2 AM, a gentle rap on your door interrupted your dreams, as Price stood there, asking you to dance in your garden, so you would not faint because of the crowd.

- You laughed and told him it was too dark and you were in pajamas.

- But he just smiled and said he could dance in your room to some Lou Reed vinyl.

-And so, you danced, clad in pajamas, in the intimate confines of your room. A shared kiss sealed the night.

-Your relationship spanned two beautiful years.

-When Price enlisted, he ardently desired to maintain your connection.

-But you didn't want it.

-You knew you couldn't keep a long-distance relationship.

-Thus, you chose to part ways, preserving your shared memories.

-To this day, Price keeps a paper flower, a symbol of your connection, beside a photograph of the 141 on his office desk.

-Whenever "Walk on the Wild Side" graces his ears, a nostalgic smile graces his face.

-Oh, how he yearns for the bygone days.

A L E J A N D R O

Second chance

-In the whirlwind of a bitter and hasty love affair, communication had faltered, leaving you forever in the shadow of Valeria.

-Her name echoed incessantly, revealing the less flattering facets of your character.

- You had never thought of yourself as a jealous person, but this situation had brought forth that dormant emotion.

-The realization that you no longer recognized the person you had become, coupled with the painful understanding that Alejandro's love was not returned as you had wished, led to a painful breakup.

-The break-up was far from clean; it left a trail of emotional wreckage in its wake.

-However, in Las Almas, gossip spread like wildfire.

- Years later, in a new school in Las Almas, fate reunited you with Alejandro.

-He wasted no time in offering a sincere apology the moment he recognized you as the teacher.

-He confessed that during your past relationship, his heart still clung to Valeria, though he had only recently ended that idea.

- He knew he could never return to her, and he had come to accept this truth. You nodded, uncertain of what more there was to say.

-As the days went by, children inquired about Alejandro's work whenever they spotted his gear.

- Uncertain about how to proceed, you took a chance and asked if he could stay.

-A warm smile graced his lips, and slowly, after finishing his patrols or shifts at the base, he began to visit the school to lend you a hand. He always carried sweets in his pocket to spoil the children of Las Almas.

-In this closeness, Alejandro began to discover the remarkable person you were.

-Of course, you had always been extraordinary, but he had never truly taken the time to explore the finer details of your character, to uncover the nuances that made you unique.

-He had admired you before, but now he was certain that he loved you.

-He willingly offered his assistance in preparing your classes, often took charge in the kitchen, and eventually mustered the courage to ask you out on a date.

- Your response was hesitant; you weren't entirely convinced or ready to rekindle the past. He simply smiled and assured you that it didn't matter. He would stay by your side.

-A year later he was still here.

-You eventually agreed to that one date, though you insisted it wouldn't signify much.

-Yet, one date led to two, and then three, and soon, a multitude of shared moments. Alejandro was ready to release his grip on the past, for he saw a brilliant future ahead with you.

R U D Y

Slow burn

-He had always harbored deep affection for you, yet he refrained from taking action due to your existing relationship.

-However, the magnetic chemistry between you two proved impossible to extinguish.

-When you found yourself single once more, he stood by your side to mend your broken heart.

-During your dates with other people, Alejandro would sigh, exclaim, and even wager with Rudy's mom.

-With each passing year, Alejandro's wallet grew emptier as he found himself increasingly indebted to Rudy's mom.

-Rudy was someone who was confident, but he hesitated to initiate, feeling unworthy.

-The trust and friendship you shared were truly precious to him.

-Despite the flirtations, tender touches, whispered endearments, and warm embraces, it seemed both of you were hesitant to immerse yourselves fully in your love for one another.

-Several years after your initial encounters, following a demanding and challenging mission, Rudy reached his breaking point.

- Pulsing with adrenaline and weariness coursing through his muscles, he instinctively made his way to your residence.

- As you opened the door, a radiant smile graced your face.

- "It was about time, Rudy," you remarked.

- And with that, he kissed you passionately, the door slamming shut as your garments gracefully found their way to the floor.

K E E G A N

Neighbor next door

-A flooding breached your common wall, necessitating a decision to share his bathroom with you, given that yours lay in disrepair.

- It marked the beginning of your mutual acquaintance, for you both were individuals who seldom engaged with other neighbors.

-Following this event, the elevator became a stage for exchanged smiles.

- Whenever he spied you struggling with groceries, he would gallantly come to your aid.

- You, in turn, brightened his door with thoughtful notes, a balm to soothe the weariness stemming from his deployments.

-Laughter echoed through the hallways after you collaborated on a playful prank targeting your cantankerous neighbor.

-It was a bond forged without the need for spoken words, a silent understanding that linked you both.

-Gradually, two keys melded into one, opening the door to a new chapter in your shared sanctuary.

_____

I also thought about

Konig : childhood friends to lovers.

And Alejandro : ennemies to lovers.

And Ghost with a fake pretend relationship because of his trust issues, I think it could be one of the way for him to open up slowly and safely in his mind.

If you want more : COD masterlist

My masterlist

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #ghost simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy x reader #keegan russ x reader

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