#Cod x you
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Ghost: May I borrow one of the shirts that you stole from me? Y/N: Yes you can Y/N: Thank you for asking properly
#call of duty#incorrect call of duty quotes#incorrect cod quotes#incorrect quotes#cod incorrect quotes#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#call of duty modern warfare#cod x reader#ghost#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost call of duty#cod simon riley#simon riley#call of duty ghost#ghost simon riley#cod x y/n#cod x you#cod#call of duty x y/n#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#task force 141 x you#task force 141 x reader
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Y/N: I miss you
Jonny: Iâve moved on, Y/N
Y/N: I hope she treats you good
Jonny: Actually⊠itâs a he
Y/N: What
Jonny: I like it from the back now
* cue Simon who walks into the room and Y/N stares at him, horrified *
Simon: What? I swear if you guys are practising your hypothetical breakup again. I wonât be your hypothetical lawyer, end of story
Y/N: Lemme just get my hypothetical gun
#simon riley x you#call of duty simon riley#call of duty x reader#call of duty#kyle cod#cod x you#ghost cod x reader#cod john price#gaz cod#cod x reader#soap cod x reader#soap x reader#soap call of duty#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#captain john price
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idk how many times i have to say this but IM OBSSESED WITH SECRETBABY!TROPE LIKE CRAZY. IM SHACKLING MY CHAINS AND IM SHAKING THE BARS OF MY CELL FOR IT.
like just imagine being John Priceâs âthe one that got awayâ and 2 years later he sees you pulling up at the grocery store with a big, chubby, blue-eyed baby. Maybe your baby got the slope of your nose and the thickness of your brows, but MY GOD that baby is no doubt Priceâs.
Imagine the utter shock and the itchy feeling of wanting to lather some love on that baby when he first saw you, carrying his cub on your hip while you browse this weekâs meal-prep.
And itâs like your baby knows, turns to rest her chubby cheeks on your shoulder and stares at him. Itâs like looking into a mirror and that alone made him throw all purpose of approaching you politely. Just straight walking up to you with his chest puffed up and blurts out âthatâs my child.â
GODDD THE DRAMA i can concur up in my MINDDDD like that man spent half of his life surrounded by war, blood on his cheeks and scars on his hands. Give him something soft to hold onto and heâll bite, never letting it go. So when you gave him the chance to be present in his daughterâs life? yeah you are so done, might as well willingly be his again. That man has no intentions in doing âco-parenting.â like what the fuck is even that?
heâs so delusional too omg when you tried to finally join the dating scene again? heâs pulling up in the meet-up cafes, restaurants, hell even the movie theater. Just straight up ruining the entire date. You canât even confront him without having your blood boil, because heâs got the audacity the size of Europe.
âWotâ dâya mean, doll? jusâ happen to be in the same place as you guys were in.â
âJohn- just! get out.â
Heâs gonna use your baby as leverage omg that evil evil man. Lame ass excuses too.
âCâmon darl, not even a lil peck? look, our princess âs watchin, sheâs going to think mama and daddy donât like each other.â
âGet dressed, luv. Gonna bring you to this cute restaurant- no of course not, our baby loves their food! wouldnât you want her happy?â
âwhat? youâve gone off to another man? what about our baby?â
And when he forges your signature in wedding papers? yeah no. You canât escape no more. Youâve slipped from his fingers once, and his not planning on letting it happen again.
#cod x reader#cod x you#cod modern warfare#john price x reader#john price#captain johnathan price#johnathan price#captain john price x reader
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(Lavender Marriage au: Poly 141 x married reader where they donât know you and your gay bestfriend married just for the Benefits and they see your husband/bestfriend âcheatingâ on you)
Your parents are traditional and are pressing you for marriage. Your bestfriend, on the other hand, is gay and in a secret relationship and the heir of a successful family business, but his parents are homophobic.
In hindsight, itâs extremely easy for the both of you to decide to get married and move far away, buying a nice plot of land and a big enough house to have rooms for you, for your husband and his boyfriend, and for you and your husband for whenever the parents decide to visit.
Honestly, the townspeople suck; you donât trust any of them not to snitch or to not be spies, so unfortunately you keep yourself happy with toys you order with your happy bestfriendâs money and flash that ring on your finger often enough no one ever questions your husbandâs many, many trips.
You donât mind much; a big, comfy house where you have everything you could want, no worried, far away from your parents. All you have to do is keep up the pretense of being a dutiful, happy wife, and everything will be well.
Until the abandoned house next to yours is bought by four of the most handsome military men you think youâve ever seen. You donât know theyâve bought it and are renovating it themselves until Kyle comes over to ask for a few glasses of water-
âSorry to bother you, Maâam. Weâve just begun renovations and the plumbingâs not fixed it.â
It takes every ounce of your self-control not to call him handsome while you fetch him some icy cold water.
The other men are just as handsome too- calling you Maâam, bonnie, sweetheart in those sexy british and scottish accents. Too bad, they are very respectful. For once, that ring on your finger is getting in your way.
So unfortunately, you resign yourself to waving to them whenever you see them, and spying on them from your porch, lemonade in hand and ogling those handy muscles glistening from sweat and working hard.
(They like you, too. So much. You look fucking gorgeous to them, all pretty sundresses and delicate jewelry and so sweetly fussing over them while they work, bringing them cookies and sandwiches and drinks and your pretty eyes just glancing at them through your lashes. You make the renovations so much harder because they have to take breaks.
But you are taken, the ring a proof of that, and you seem quite content with your life. They meet your husband too and for all that they wish he wasnât there, they can see that you two are happy.
Until they see your husband kissing another man. In your home. Cheating on you.
And suddenly, they know they have a chance.)
#this was so rushed i had to write it the second i got the idea for it#noona.writes#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#poly!141#ghost x you#simon ghost riley imagines#soap x you#kyle gaz x you#gaz x you#john price x you#kyle gaz garrick x you
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now HEAR ME OUT!! like soap sending you videos like this?!? like he's coming back home and he's sending you videos showing you how hard and excited he and his cock are to see you again. his dick straining against his pants as he actively tries not to cum and make a mess of himself in that helicopter from the feeling of his tip catching against the seam
#cod#cod smut#cod headcanons#cod x reader#cod x y/n#cod x you#p!link#soap cod#soap smut#soap fanfic#cod soap#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#soap x y/n#soap x you#johnny soap mactavish
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â. you arenât happy about your roommateâs party until you meet the attractive guy down the hall.
tags. fem!reader, future installments will contain smut, age difference, original characters, college student reader, one-night stands, angst, dirty talk, hurt/comfort, size kink, unplanned pregnancy
featuring. simon
Itâs your first semester living off-campus, and Finn is boundlessly enthusiastic about all things that involve cheap liquor and crowded spaces, even more so now that she roped you into being her roommate after promising to split the cost of furnishing an apartment thatâs probably too expensive for two undergrads working part-time, low-pay jobs.
You donât like parties, really.Â
Movies and the social connotations surrounding parties have always made them seem like some monumental proverbial chip in your college experience; the real thing, once the bright-eyed shine of trying something new wears off, is more or less a bunch of random people packed into a room like sardines who abate their social awkwardness with alcohol and loud music.
So, no, you canât exactly say that you enjoy the thought of Finnâs friends (and everyone she hardly smiles at) cramping up your already tiny apartmentâespecially when one of them is Miller from one of your business classes, who gives you the creeps.Â
And leave it to Finn to invite him, anyway.
"Now he knows where I live," you grumble into your bowl of cerealâsomething probably too sweet and (definitely) full of sugar for breakfast.
Finn shrugs, not at all worried for you, as she pours more sticky orange batter into the hot pan on the stove. "The guy has a crush on you. I think it's cute. And he seems harmless."
âHarmless until I end up in a ditch somewhere.â
You donât have to see her face to know sheâs doing that thing with her mouth whenever you say something she thinks is ridiculous. âIf youâd agree to split the Netflix bill, you wouldnât be stuck watching horror movies. Why do you only own horror movies, again?â
"That's easy for you to say.â You roll your eyes, ignoring her question. âYou donât have to sit by him every week.â
(As if that would ever convince her to change her mind.)
"Ow! Shit!"
You look up right before Finn drops a steaming pancake onto her hand and rushes to the sink to run it under cold water. The mutilated pancake lay forgotten with the others that didn't survive her last several attempts.
"Finn, I think this is unnecessary," you tell her after swallowing a mouthful of cereal. "Can't you do something more practical? Like sticking a note to their door?"
Finn looks up from the sink, her wild, red curls bouncing from the movement. "Oh, come on! Don't chicken out now. I've already made fifteen of these things." She points her pink spatula at the tower of not-quite pumpkin-shaped pancakes on the counter. "Plus, who's going to turn down free food? Now, go put on your costume and hand these out."
You shovel another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, scowling. "I'm not wearing the costume you picked out. It's so...inappropriate."
Youâre pretty sure Finn picked out your costume from the dicey sex shop down the street rather than an actual Halloween storeâthe amount of mesh compared to solid fabric only solidifies the theory.
Finn finally turns the water off and gives you a stern look, amused eyes set under a furrowed brow. "I can find the one you own in the children's section at Costco."
You roll your eyes. "I really donât feel like flashing my tits to the neighbors while offering them breakfast.â
She grins, wide and teasing. "You have nice tits, though.â
"Yeah, I'm sure the old woman down the hall would love to see her neighbor in the equivalent of a thong and nipple coverings at the start of her day." You donât think youâd ever be able to look her in the eye again.
"Miss Yado is cool,â Finn says, returning to the stove to continue cooking. âShe'll probably just tell you to wear a jacket or something."
You pick up your empty bowl and lean over the counter to put it in the sink. "I didn't know you talked to our neighbors."
Finn shrugs, flipping the pancake in the skillet. "She normally walks her dog while I'm heading to class. I stop to talk to her sometimes when I'm not running late."Â
âOh?â
She shoots you a wry grin over her shoulder. "You'd know the neighbors too if you didn't scowl all the time."
In response, the corners of your mouth tip down. "I donât scowl."
"Now, would you go change? These are getting cold."Â
Several minutes later, you come out of your room wearing the same costume you'd worn the past two years. Finn pouts when she sees you forwent the one she had picked out. However, she doesnât do more than shake her head and shove a handful of food containers full of pancakes into your hands.
âYouâll be fine. Just remember to smile,â she tells you before the front door closes behind you.
You start on your end of the hall, going door to door and handing out the small containers. The whole time, youâre wondering why Finn couldnât do this herself, considering youâre hardly a people person as is. Thankfully, nobody seemed too annoyed about being bothered on a Saturday morningâonly one neighbor shut the door in your face before you could say anything.
But itâs fine. Youâre not going to let it ruin your day. Plus, you only have one person left.
Thereâs a small pit of nerves in your stomach when you knock this timeâhalf expecting another door to the face. What you donât expect, however, is the tall and imposing guy who answers.
Who also doesnât appear to be any less annoyed.
Your mouth opens and closes helplessly, all words stuck to the back of your tongue, watching as stray water droplets drip down from his wet hair and travel down the side of his face before dispersing into the dark stubble lining his jaw.
You stare. And stare. Eyes, most likely, bugging unattractively out of your head.
How did Finn never mention the super hot neighbor who lived six doors down the hall?
He gives you a once-over, and part of you suddenly wishes youâd gone with Finn's costume instead. Only because here, at that moment, youâre willing to admit that maybe the one you have on looks like a six-year-old picked it outâespecially when this guy, who is way out of your league, scrutinizes it for a second longer, mostly your frilly crew socks.Â
"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice low as if he hasnât been awake for long.
You blink, mild embarrassment rushing through you from the sudden realization that youâve been standing there and saying absolutely nothing.
"Hi, um, I'm your neighbor from down the hall. My roommate and I are throwing a Halloween party, and we're inviting people in the building." Annoyance slowly melts off his face.
"Thank you,â heavily tattooed arms cross over his broad chest, and he leans against the door frame (and you definitely donât stare at how his biceps seem to strain against his black t-shirt). âBut I think I'm getting a little old for parties."
The corners of your mouth tip up in whatâs the beginning of a smile.
"Okay, sure. You're, what, twenty-five?"
Itâs a stupid joke, and for a moment, you panic, afraid heâd been unimpressed, but then his lips quirked slightly. "Not quite. Nice costume. Let me guess, fairy?"
"Witch, actually. Iâve always gone with something more original," you babble and bite your lip before you can say something else.
"Itâs cute."Â
Cute?
Youâre unsure if you should feel elated that he thinks so or self-consciousâthat he might be making fun of youâso you settle with a mumbled âthanks.â
"So, what's with the container?" he asks, nodding toward your hands.
"Oh, um, my roommate thought she could bribe people with food to come to the party." Truthfully, itâs to prevent potential complaints from the neighbors, but you decide not to mention that part, although you think he knows by the way the corner of his mouth subtly lifts.
You give him the plastic container and watch as he stares into it with a furrowed brow. "It's a... pancake?"
"Er, yeah. My roommate likes to go above and beyond for everything."
"What's it supposed to be?" he asks, glancing up at you.
"Um, a pumpkin..."
You look between him and the container and find Finn had accidentally mixed up her presentable pancakes with the throwaways. And the pumpkin shape is...well, it isn't.
"Ah, I see," he nods, his slowly drying hair falling onto his forehead. "That makes more sense."
You canât stop the giggle that bubbles to the surface. "You think you can do better?"
"Yes, actually," he grins back, all cocksure, with a flash of white teeth. "Maybe Iâll bring some over some time."
"I won't tell her you said that." However, you can't wait to rib Finn later.
"Right, it probably wouldn't make a very good first impression." Then he sticks out his free hand, "Simon."
You shyly shake itâignoring the little skip in your chest at how big his hand is compared to yoursâand tell him your name, too.
His eyes flicker down to his watch, and he curses under his breath. "Well, it was nice meeting you. But I have to finish getting ready for work."
Only then do you take note of the tactical pants and heavy boots heâs wearing.
When you meet his gaze again, you find amusement there, and you consider, with a new rush of mortification, that it probably seemed like youâd been openly eyeing his crotch.Â
You clear your throat, the back of your neck feeling hot, and you pointedly pretend your voice doesnât hitch when you breathe a soft, tremulous, "Okay, sure.â
"Tell your roommate I said thanks for breakfast."
"Yeah, I'll tell her. Um, I guess I'll see you around." No longer able to make eye contact with him, you turn away and begin walking (though itâs probably closer to running) toward your door.
And you definitely donât look over your shoulder to see if heâs still standing there.
You spend most of the party hanging out near the front door, quietly hoping Simon might show upâeven though it seems unlikely. After all, he did mention that heâs too old for parties, and a small, insecure part of you wonders if it was his polite way of turning you down.
"The guy was running late,â Finn had tried to reassure you. âI'm sure he was thinking about how to beat expressway traffic before the lunch hour rush hit. Not about the crazy lady in a witch costume running away from his door."
That was the initial deciding factor between your witch costume and the one Finnâs been trying to force you intoâonly so you donât have to hear another person call you cute just to seem nice.
And leave it to Finn to jump at the opportunity to help you get ready, though she nearly freaked out when you popped into your joint bathroom with an old tube of mascara that you rummaged out of your nightstand.
"Do you know how many germs are probably on that thing?" Finnâs nose scrunched up as she threw it away in the waste bin near the toilet. "Please tell me you haven't used it since you bought it?"
You had rolled your eyes. "Probably not."
Finn sighed, then smiled. "Luckily for you, I own more than a crusty mascara tube."Â
You were about to argue, but when Finn told you to sit on the toilet lid with a dangerously sharp liner pen, youâd clenched your jaw instead, unsure what you were more scared of when Finn brought the pen close to your face: that your friend might potentially stab you in the eye or that youâd come out of the bathroom with raccoon eyes.
Thankfully, when Finn finally finished, neither was the case, except the number of looks youâve been receiving anytime someone stops in the kitchen to get more drinks is something you hadnât anticipatedâespecially when one of them happens to be Miller.
Youâve been avoiding him and his overly bare chest from the moment he walked through your front door. It grew more challenging after Finn left your side (the traitor) to talk to a guy youâve seen her hanging around with on campus a few times.Â
And with the apartment feeling smaller than it already is, youâre only option is to blend in with the group hanging around your kitchen island.
Youâll be fine, Finn said.
Right, you think as you adjust the scanty tube top under your mesh shirt, trying to cover more of yourself with what little fabric you have at your disposal, and you wonder if itâs too late to changeâ
A knock at the door makes you perk up, regardless of how noisy the room is, with eardrum-shattering music and loud college students. You pull it open, expecting to see Simon on the other side, only to be disappointed when itâs one of Finnâs friends and her girlfriend instead.
"Hey, Roma." You realize you probably sound rude and attempt to give them your best smileâwhich is more or less a grimace.
Roma smooths out her extremely short referee-style dress. "Sorry, we're late! I couldn't remember where you lived. There are way too many blue apartment buildings around here..."
Everything sheâs saying goes in one ear and out the other when you spot Simon stepping out of the door to the stairway across the hall. You hold your breath, waiting for him to look up from his phone.
But he keeps walking.
"Uh, yeah," you say distractedly before speeding up the conversation. "Hey, Finn is in the living room, but I'll see you guys inside, okay? I need to do something."
You step around them to catch up to Simon, which you learn isnât easy in heels. So you call his name, hoping he hears you and smiling when he turns toward you. And you donât miss how his gaze trails down your body slowly.
It makes something inside you quiver as you nervously play with the short hem of your skirt.
âHey,â he says, sounding every bit as tired as he looksâhis shirt from that morning now wrinkled with bluish hollows under his eyesâthough he tries to hide it with what you think is an attempt at a smile.
And your cheeks burn because you feel guilty.Â
"Hey," you repeat dumbly.Â
Your eyes lower as his smile melts into one of faint amusement at your lack of tact. You fidget, shifting from one foot to the other. Maybe, you think, you should have let him walk into his apartment before you could embarrass yourself further today. Â
After a moment, you meet his gaze again.Â
"Uh, I just wanted to see if you still wanted to come overâŠBut I imagine you're probably not up for it, so Iâll leaveâ"
Simon surprises you when he shrugs his shoulders and says, "Sure."
Your mouth gapes, unsure if you heard him correctly. "Wh-what?"
"I just need to shower and change, and then I'll be over. Okay?"
"I... yeah, okay," your nod is shy, trying not to betray eagerness.
A lazy grin stretches across his mouth. "Nice costume, by the way," he disappears into his apartment before he can witness how his words make you flush.
And you walk back to your apartment feeling a little more floaty than when you left.
masterlist
#.things i write#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley imagine#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#cod x reader#cod imagine#cod x you#mw2 x reader#mw2 imagine#fem!reader
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Reader, baby EMT: oh! Wheezing! I heard wheezing
Simon, a tired of this shit paramedic: yeah how do you figure, he's dead.
Reader: ..
Reader: u-um.
-
Johnny, an AEMT: so all gots do is turn on ya lights (leans over the dah and turns on the lights) and weewoos (turns on sirens) an laws don't mean shit to us
Reader, on their training shifts: im scared
Simon, in the back trying to take a nap: we're going to a LOW FUCKING SODIUM TURN OFF THE DAMN LIGHTS
--
Price, in the monthly meetings: and who keeps taking the pulse ox's? I know you all aren't dumb.
Johnny, who keeps leaving them on Pt's: ...
Reader: Kyle. I saw him take some fent from the lock up too.
Kyle: HEY???
--
Simon: hi I'm a paramedic with ____ whats going on?
Pt, a booktok girly: do- (anaphylaxis heave) you always (heave) the mask on?
Reader, drawing up Epi: he's gay
Pt: đ„ș
Simon: what
--
Reader: you see if i ever break my leg on shift-
Simon, an LT: did we tell you to not do the stupid thing?
Reader: like...break my leg? No?
Simom: dont break your leg. There now you can't get workers comp.
Reader:
Johnny, with his mega sized monster: he did that to me too when I passed out.
#simon riley imagine#cod x you#coco's chaos <3#simon ghost x reader#cod fluff#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley fanfic
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Simon doesn't think he's ever tasted something so good in his fuckin' life before.
He didn't know what he was in for this time when he got back from deployment, and nicotine and whiskey ain't got shit on this. Poor bastard can't remember the last time he had something so good invade his senses like this.
You said you had a treat for him, made him lay down, and promptly sat on his face, and Simon was fuckin' gone. Don't know what the fuck possessed him but he took one whiff and was instantly hooked.
Simon feasted on your cunt like a man starved. Tongue, lips, fingers, you name it. Anything to get his fix, anything to make you moan.
Anything to make you cum.
Didn't let up for shit, not even to breathe, and when you voiced your concern while whimpering and trembling, Simon didn't give a fuck and still continued to love on your pretty cunt because where the bloody fuck are you going?
Shut up. Shut the hell up and let him make you cum, sweetheart.
Actions have consequences. Shouldn't have made him feel so bloody good, shouldn't have poked at the beast, and he'd be damned if he didn't think this was the best post-deployment gift he's ever gotten. Better than the nicotine high or occasional pity wank.
Fuck, it's been so long and he's absolutely disgusting about it.
And Simon's aware of it all, the way his cock is so hard it's bloody painful and leaking in his pants, the way you're grinding on his face, smothering it and fucking his mouth (don't you dare stop, either), and how his everything is consumed by you. You coat his stubble, fill his nostrils up with your scent, his tastebuds are fired upâbloody hell, need he explain more?
Simon could die a happy man right now, and what would his gravestone say? Here Lies Simon Riley, Died Eating Cunt.
He'd chuckle if he wasn't too busy at the moment. Shit, he probably did if the way you're moaning is any indication. That felt good, didn't it, sweetheart?
It's your turn now to say his name like a prayer and believe in him just as he believes in you.
And it's the best fucking thing to ever bless his ears.
--
Turning Simon Out: Part I and Part II.
#turning simon out series.#nsfw.#cutie đ .#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern whorefare.#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#cod x reader#cod x you#x black reader#x poc reader#x plus size reader#x gn!reader#task force 141
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something something
Of a story you heard a thousand times from the elders about a siren who became obsessed with a local.
They said what she did was taboo. She used her blood to make the siren fall for her. But she didn't attract just one siren, there were a lot of them. It was the reason why girls and women went missing at that time. All of them walk through the ocean with open arms. The sirens embraced them as they took them deeper and deeper in the water.
Despite the story being told a long time ago, a tradition to prevent what happened was still being followed faithfully. Women were strictly prohibited in washing their stained garments and going swimming in the ocean when they bleed.
But you have been so lonely. The people on the island isolate you. They claimed you are cursed and should have died after your whore of a mother died from a disease.
Desperate, you washed your period stained garments in the ocean. You even bathed under the moonlight. A time where they said the siren's scent of smell was strong.
You just want to be loved. You just want to be held. You just want some warmth.
The next day, golden trinkets and pearl necklaces replaced your hanged undergarments on your fence. They were so beautiful. You haven't seen them before.
Although you were happy that the legend about the sirens was real, it dawned on you that you had done something you mustn't. Frightened, you hid the siren's gifts and pretended you had done nothing wrong.
Each moons, you tried to ignore the scratches at your door during your cycle. Deep claw marks scarring the woods. Songs of desperation calling out for you to open your door late at night. To let him in.
He has such a beautiful voice. He introduced himself as Johnny. He sounded pleasant, warm, and loving.
But you know what he was doing.
You must not. It will pass. Or so you console yourself. Ignoring your bleeding hands after your nails had dug too deep after you closed your fists too tightly.
Then each morning, you will wake up with another set of jewelry, wondering why they feel sticky to touch. The item smells musky. Like the ocean; salty, and heady. But there is something more that you are not quite sure as to what it was.
It goes on and on and on.
Until, there was a storm. The wind howls and your house groans as it tries to hold itself down. The wood creaks, and your body trembles from the cold. The fire long gone after the rain leaked and wet your furnace. You were so so cold. And you are so scared and alone.
Maybe that was why when you heard a knock, it didn't occur to you how the knock sounded so clear. As if the raging storm outside silenced just so you can hear that someone is outside. Someone who can share their warmth with you.
You didn't hesitate to open the door and was greeted by a towering man. Bulked, scarred, and has a mesmerizing deep set of blue eyes, looking down on you. Lovingly. Longingly.
You don't know what occurred to you but you clung to him. Your arms snaked around his neck and you feel his, wrapping on your waist. Tighter. Pulling you closer.
It feels so right.
#(â Êâ áŽâ Êâ âżâ ) seelie writings#soap cod#cod#cod mw2#cod soap#john soap mctavish smut#john soap mctavish x reader#soap x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x you#soap x y/n#john mctavish x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny mctavish x reader#siren au#soap siren#cod x reader#cod x you
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Saving By Hare Pt2: The Love Doctor
Mafia!König x Doctor! Reader
Cw: mention torture and drugs. afab!reader but try most to be gn.
Horangi was walking down the hall when his attention was caught by Hutch and Roze standing in front of a one-way mirror. Curiosity piqued, he asked, "What are you up to?"
"Watching the boss torture an enemy underling," Roze replied, her eyes glinting with amusement as Hutch chuckled happily at the scene unfolding before them.Â
Raising an eyebrow, Horangi stepped closer to the window. He saw König pacing back and forth, visibly anxious, as he spoke to the enemy, who looked increasingly unsettled. Suddenly, König slammed his hand down on the table, causing the enemy to flinch.
"Whatâs the torture?" Horangi asked, confusion etched on his face. Hutch smirked, adjusting his shades. "The boss is asking for romantic advice from Deadman."
Horangi sighed, watching König slowly lower himself into the chair across from the captive, his hulking frame almost too large for the delicate wooden seat. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the table, a nervous habit uncharacteristic of the usually imposing man.
The captive, a wiry man with a bloodied nose, looked utterly bewildered. Sweat dripped from his brow as he stammered, âW-why are you asking me? I donâtâI donât know anything about dating!â
König leaned forward, his icy blue eyes narrowing as he demanded, âThen what do you know about wooing someone? Surely youâve liked someone before. Speak.â
The man fumbled, glancing toward the one-way mirror in silent desperation, as if pleading for a rescue that would never come.
Roze stifled a laugh, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. âI never thought Iâd see the day. Our Big bad Boss, König,âŠasking a guy who canât even keep his own teeth in his mouth for advice on romance. This is priceless.â
Hutch let out a low chuckle, pushing his sunglasses up. âThe boss is down bad. I mean, look at himâheâs got the guy more scared of giving the wrong pickup line than getting shot.â
Inside the room, König pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly frustrated with the captive's nonsensical answers. The poor man was a stuttering mess, rattling off clichĂ©s like, âBuy them flowers,â and âCompliment their eyes.â
König growled softly, not out of anger, but sheer exasperation. âThis is useless.â He stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, causing the captive to flinch again. König loomed over him, arms crossed, his massive frame casting a shadow over the trembling man.
âI donât need basic advice!â König barked, his voice deep and commanding. âI need something⊠meaningful. Specific. If you were trying to win someone overâsomeone kind, strong, and⊠specialâwhat would you do?â
The captive blinked up at him, wide-eyed and utterly lost. âIâI donât know! Cook for them? Write them a letter? Please, man, I donât even have a girlfriend!â
Horangi, watching from the other side of the glass, finally sighed and turned to Hutch and Roze. âThis is pathetic. Should we step in before he kills the guy with his awkwardness?â
âNah,â Hutch replied with a grin. âThis is better than TV. Besides, itâs not like the guyâs bleeding out or anything.â
Roze tilted her head, feigning innocence. âYou think König will actually take advice from someone whoâs tied to a chair?â
Before Horangi could respond, Königâs voice boomed again, shaking the room with its intensity.
"Write what, exactly?" He leaned in closer to the captive, who was now shaking like a leaf. "Give me something better than 'flowers' or 'letters,' or I will personallyâ" He caught himself, exhaling sharply and stepping back, muttering under his breath in frustration.
The captive, desperate to avoid whatever fate his imagination was conjuring, blurted out, "S-surprise them! Do something unexpected! Something only you would do! Something that shows y-youâre thinking about them!"
König paused, straightening to his full height. His imposing shadow loomed even larger over the man as he stared down at him with piercing eyes. Slowly, a glimmer of realization crossed Königâs face. He said nothing for a long moment, then gave a curt nod, muttering, âHmm. Yes. Thatâs⊠something.â
The captive sagged in his chair, relief washing over him as König turned abruptly and made for the door.
From behind the glass, Roze covered her mouth to keep from laughing. âI swear to God, heâs going to come back tomorrow with a dozen roses and a poem, isnât he?â
Hutch snorted, shaking his head. âIf he writes a poem, Iâm retiring. Iâve seen enough for one lifetime.â
Horangi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. âThis is ridiculous. Iâm going to make sure he doesnât do something stupid⊠like kidnapping them instead of asking them on a date.â
The door to the interrogation room slammed open as König stepped out, his gaze distant, as if he were already lost in thought. He brushed past the group without a word, his broad shoulders rigid and his stride purposeful.
âYup,â Roze said with a smirk, watching him disappear down the hall. âHeâs definitely writing a poem.â
Hutch clapped Horangi on the back. âGood luck keeping him out of trouble. Youâre going to need it.â
Horangi sighed again, glancing toward the interrogation room before reluctantly following after König. âThis better not end with me having to talk him out of some overly dramatic romantic gestureâŠâ
As the door clicked shut behind him, Roze and Hutch exchanged a look before bursting into laughter, their amusement echoing through the observation room.
It had been a couple of weeks since you last saw König. The memory of that night lingered in your mind, resurfacing at the most unexpected moments. You found yourself wonderingâwas his wound healing properly? Had he taken care of himself?
The thought gnawed at you as you went about your day, your hands busy with patients, but your mind elsewhere. You had done everything you could to stabilize him that night, yet the worry persisted. Men like him, with their dangerous lives and stoic fronts, werenât the type to follow medical advice.
You sighed softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face as you closed your clinic for the evening to grab some lunch. The streets were quiet, the crisp winter air biting against your cheeks as you locked the door behind you. You paused for a moment, glancing down the empty street, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows.
Was he okay? The question echoed in your mind again, and you shook your head with a small, self-deprecating smile. Why do I even care so much?
But deep down, you knew the answer. There had been something in Königâs eyes that nightâsomething that stuck with you. A vulnerability beneath the ice, a fleeting glimpse of someone who, for all his sharp edges and danger, carried a burden far heavier than any physical wound.
And now, you couldnât help but wonder if he was just okay in general. You groan in frustration kicking a discarded can. Why?! You just met the man. You sighed. You look at the sky a little bit to ground yourself before continuing along your way. You entered your favorite dinner, Dash out.
The warm, familiar hum of Dash Out greeted you as you stepped inside. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, a sharp contrast to the biting chill outside. You waved to the staff behind the counter, giving them a tired but genuine smile.
Sliding into a booth near the window, you let out a long sigh and leaned back against the worn vinyl. This was your safe havenâa place where the stress of the day melted away with every sip of coffee or bite of a greasy burger.
A waitress approached, her name tag reading Lisa, her smile as warm as ever. âThe usual?â
You nodded. âPlease.â
Lisa scribbled on her notepad, her gaze flickering to your face with a touch of curiosity. âYou look like youâve got something on your mind. Long day?â
âYeah,â you admitted with a small laugh. âSomething like that.â
Lisa gave you a knowing nod before walking off, leaving you to your thoughts. You stared out the window, watching the soft, lazy flakes of snow drift down, the streetlights casting a warm, amber glow over the quiet street. Your reflection stared back at you, and for a moment, you barely recognized the furrowed brow and distant eyes.
Your food arrived swiftly, the plate settling in front of you with a soft clink. A classic burger, fries, and a steaming cup of hot cocoaâcomfort food at its finest. Lisa let you know the pie was on the house. You took a bite, hoping the familiar taste would provide some distraction, but your thoughts kept drifting back to him.
The sound of the diner door opening pulled you from your reverie. You glanced up absently, expecting nothing more than another weary worker grabbing a late meal or perhaps a family seeking warmth from the biting cold outside.
But before you could focus on it, a pair of warm, calloused hands gently covered your eyes, halting your sip mid-air. A playful, familiar Scottish lilt followed. âGuess who it is, lass?â
You couldnât suppress a smile, a soft laugh escaping as you tilted your head slightly. âSoap,â you said, the word slipping out with amused certainty.
The hands pulled away with a chuckle, and there he wasâgrinning like a kid whoâd just pulled off the worldâs greatest prank. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned casually against the booth.
Next to him, Ghost stood silently, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the cheerful exchange. He rolled his eyes and scoffed under his breath before turning toward the counter, his gait purposeful as he went to collect the protection money for their boss.
You giggled, glancing back at Soap. âI see you brought Ghost with you on your rounds.â
âYup, Doc,â Soap said, scratching the back of his neck with mock exasperation. âDidnât want to, but you knowâgangster lifeâs no walk in the park.â His grin widened, as if the admission didnât carry the weight it should have.
Before you could respond, Lisa returned, balancing a tray with your pie. She set the plate in front of you with a warm smile. âEnjoy, honey,â she said before bustling off to tend to another table.
âThanks, Lisa.â You glanced at Soap and tilted the plate slightly in his direction, your voice teasing. âWant some, Soap? Or is gangster life too glamorous for diner fries?â
âNever! Thatâs like forgetting the roots you came from!â Soap declared dramatically, as if youâd just suggested the unthinkable. âPlus, I love sharing fries with the person whoâs saved our arses more times than I can count!â
Without waiting for an invitation, he plopped himself down in the seat across from you, stealing a fry with a triumphant grin.
You couldnât help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics. As Soap munched happily, Ghost returned from the counter, his dark gaze flicking between the two of you before settling on Soap with a mix of amusement and quiet disapproval.
You looked up at Ghost with a smile, gesturing toward the plate of fries you were now sharing. âWant some?â you offered lightly.
He shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips under his mask as he slid into the booth beside you. âNo thanks, Doll,â he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. âIâll leave the fry-stealing to him.â
Soap, mid-bite, pointed a fry at Ghost. âThatâs because youâre no fun, mate.â
Ghost gave him a sidelong glance, muttering, âIâm plenty fun. Just not when it comes to your greasy fingers all over the food.â
The banter made you smile as you picked up another fry, savoring the rare moment of levity amid the chaos their lives seemed to attract. It was hard not to think back to when you first met them. Soap had stormed into your clinic, practically kicking the door down, with Ghost slung over his back and bleeding profusely.
Youâd barely had time to process their arrival before Soap started barking ordersâhalf panicked, half determined. Ghost, even in his weakened state, had muttered something about "not scaring the doc." It had been a whirlwind of blood, adrenaline, and sharp commands, but youâd patched Ghost up, and from that moment on, the two had made you an unspoken part of their world.
Since then, theyâd drop by every so oftenânot just for patch-ups, though those were frequentâbut also to walk you home after late nights at the clinic or during their rounds collecting protection money for their boss. You knew the line of work they were in was dangerous, but you couldnât deny the strange sense of security you felt whenever they were around.
âYouâre quiet tonight,â Soap said, snapping you out of your thoughts as he stole another fry. âWhatâs on your mind?â
âJust remembering how we met,â you said with a small smile, glancing between him and Ghost. âAnd how you two basically barged into my life like a hurricane.â
Soap grinned, unrepentant. âAye, but a good hurricane, right?â
Ghost shook his head, muttering, âMore like a bloody disaster.â
You laughed softly, their easy camaraderie a welcome reprieve from the weight of your own thoughts. Likewise, your presence seemed to brighten their otherwise cold and chaotic world, though theyâd never outright admit it. Yet the way they smiled at you in that unspoken, rare softness said enough.
After finishing your meal, the three of you stepped outside into the biting cold. They insisted on walking you back to the clinicâsomething theyâd done countless times before. As the chill seeped into your bones, you tugged your jacket tighter around yourself, but it wasnât enough to keep the cold at bay.
Ghost noticed, his sharp eyes catching the subtle shiver you tried to hide. Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The material was heavy, smelling faintly of leather and a hint of something clean and woodsy.
âHere, Doll,â he murmured, his voice low but kind in its gruffness.
âNo, IâItâs okay,â you stammered, feeling a bit flustered by the gesture. âWeâre not far from the clinic. Youâll be cold.â
You tried to hand the jacket back, but Soap looped an arm around your shoulders with a grin, stopping you in your tracks.
âAnd let our favorite doc get sick?â he teased, his tone playful but firm. âNever! Ghost and I have seen enough blood for one lifetime, thank you very much. Now letâs get to the clinic, warm up with some tea, and then weâll handle the rest of our business.â
You rolled your eyes with a fond smile but didnât argue. Wrapped in Ghostâs jacket and flanked by the two men, you felt a sense of safety you didnât often experience. As you walked, the quiet of the night was punctuated by the soft crunch of boots on snow and Soapâs endless chatter about everything and nothing.
For a moment, as the warm glow of the clinicâs lights came into view, you let yourself forget about the dangers that lurked in their worldâand your own. The three of you entered the clinic, the familiar scent of antiseptic and faint lavender welcoming you like an old friend. Without hesitation, you all made your way to the break room, a cozy little space you had managed to make feel homier despite the sterile surroundings.
Soap, ever the ball of energy, immediately busied himself grabbing three mugs from the cupboard. âTeaâs on me!â he declared, his enthusiasm almost infectious as he examined the mismatched cups with mock seriousness.
Meanwhile, you filled the kettle, setting it to boil. You handed Ghost his jacket back, and he took it with a quiet nod, draping it over the back of a chair before sitting down. His tall frame seemed oddly at ease in the tiny space, though his ever-watchful gaze remained sharp, flicking from you to Soap and back again.
âThanks for lending this,â you said softly, glancing at Ghost as you adjusted your sweater.
He gave a slight shrug, his mask concealing any hint of a smile, though his tone held the barest trace of warmth. âDidnât want you catching cold. Youâd be no use to anyone if youâre laid up sick.â
Soap turned around with a playful grin, balancing the mugs in one hand while gesturing dramatically with the other. âSee, Doc? Thatâs as close to a love letter as Ghost will ever get. Cherish it!â
âDonât push your luck, Soap,â Ghost muttered, though his voice lacked any real bite.
You chuckled, shaking your head as you set the tea bags into the mugs Soap had placed on the counter. Once the water was ready, you poured it carefully, the steam rising and curling in the air. The quiet hum of the kettle, the clink of ceramic, and the shared companionship filled the small room with a sense of peace that felt rare in their chaotic world
 The phone's shrill ring sliced through the comfortable quiet like a blade, cutting Soap off mid-sentence and making Ghostâs gaze sharpen instantly. Pulling the phone from your pocket, you glanced at the screen. The number was vaguely familiar, but as a doctor, you were accustomed to unexpected calls from patients in need.
With a soft sigh, you answered, balancing the phone between your shoulder and ear as you continued preparing the tea. âHello, this is Dr. [Last Name]. How can I help you?â
A beat of silence stretched on the other end, broken only by faint, shallow breathing. A chill prickled at the back of your neck. Something about it felt wrong.
âHello?â you repeated, this time with more authority.
The voice that finally responded was shaky, almost desperate. âHase? Is this... is this you?â
You froze, your heart skipping a beat as the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. âKönig? Yes, itâs me.â
You didnât notice Soapâs eyes widened or Ghostâs gaze turned cold as they recognized the name. Königâthe mob boss who controlled half the city and the territory just down the street from your clinic. A heavy silence hung in the air before the voice whispered, almost painfully, âYes, itâs König, my Hase.â
You felt a warmth flush your cheeks, but you quickly brushed it aside, forcing your expression to remain neutral. âWhat can I do for you?â
There was a brief silence, the sound of steady breathing on the other end before Königâs voice returnedâtentative, yet edged with a quiet urgency. âI was wondering⊠if I could take you to dinner tonight at the Diamond Petals. Or tomorrow, if youâre not working. As a thank you⊠for everything.â Â
The request hung in the air, unexpected. Dinner at such a fancy restaurant? You smiled, a soft giggle escaping. âYeah⊠Iâd love to have dinner with you. Maybe tomorrow, thoughâIâll need to shop for new clothes. I donât have anything good to wear.â Â
âNien,â he replied smoothly, his tone firm yet gentle. âAnything you wear looks like gold.â Â
The words, simple yet laced with affection, sent warmth flooding to your cheeks. Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could recover, he added, âWhat about I pick you up and take you shopping for clothes?â Â
His suggestion caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless, your mind racing to process the unexpected offer. Meanwhile, Ghost and Soap, lingering nearby, exchanged knowing glances. The palpable tension in the air was broken only by the sound of their deliberate throat-clearing, an unsubtle reminder of their presence. Â
âSure,â you finally managed, your voice slightly flustered. âIâll send you the location of my clinic then⊠see you later.â Â
You ended the call, the phone still warm in your hand as you set it down on the counter. Ghost calmly lifted his mask just over his nose, sipping his tea with deliberate slowness. The corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly, a subtle sign of amusement, while Soap, never one to miss an opportunity, grinned widely. Â
âSo~ youâve got yourself a boyfriend now, eh?â Soap teased, leaning against the counter with a cheeky tilt of his head. Â
You blushed furiously, waving your hands in protest. âItâs not like that!â Â
Soapâs grin widened as Ghost let out a low chuckle. âAye, Doc. Whatever you say.â Â
Meanwhile, König stood in the dimly lit expanse of one of his warehouses, the sharp tang of metal and oil lingering in the air. His broad shoulders were tense, his posture rigid as he turned to the scene behind him. Vega and Roze hovered over their latest victimâa poor drug shipper whose trembling form bore the tattooed mark of the 141 on his neck. Â
The man's muffled gasps and splashes filled the room as Vega pressed his head underwater, his grip merciless, while Roze crouched beside them, her dark eyes glinting with cruel amusement. She glanced over her shoulder at König, an arched brow accompanying her mocking tone. Â
âSo~ what did she say?â Roze asked, her voice dripping with feigned curiosity as she twirled a blade in her hand, its edge catching the faint light. Â
Königâs gaze flickered to the struggling man for a moment, then back to Roze, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his hood. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, though his voice, when he finally spoke, was calm, almost detached. Â
âShe said yes,â he murmured, the weight of the words carrying an edge that made even Vega glance up from her task. Â
Roze grinned, sharp and predatory. âLook at you, big guy. Dinner at the Diamond Petals, huh? Gonna make it all romantic?â Â
Königâs towering frame shifted slightly as he took a step closer, his boots heavy against the concrete floor. âFocus,â he said, his voice cold enough to make the room feel even icier. âThe questions are not for me.â Â
Rozeâs smirk faltered, and she shrugged, motioning to Vega, who yanked the manâs head back above water with a violent jerk. The shivering victim gasped for air, coughing and sputtering, as König loomed over him, his massive shadow swallowing the man whole. Â
âNow,â König said softly, his tone deceptively calm but carrying an undercurrent of menace. âLetâs try this again. Who sent you?â Â
After promising Soap and Ghost that youâd text them after your âdate,â you closed up your clinic and waved them goodbye. Their knowing smirks lingered in your mind, but you brushed them off, focusing instead on the evening ahead. Â
Standing outside in the cool night air, you waited patiently, smoothing down your outfit one more time to make sure everything was perfect. Â
Moments later, a sleek, black BMW with tinted windows pulled up to the curb. Your breath caught when König stepped out. Even with his mask on, you could tell he had gone out of his way to prepare for this. His broad frame was wrapped in a perfectly tailored black button-up shirt and slacks, the subtle sheen of his polished shoes catching the light. Â
The faint scent of musk and cedar drifted toward you, the unmistakable aroma of freshly applied cologne mingling with the lingering freshness of a recent shower. You couldnât help but notice the effort he had put inâit was enough to make your heart skip a beat. Â
You instinctively sniffed yourself, worried for a fleeting moment about how you smelled. A wave of relief washed over you when you realized you didnât smell unpleasantâyour perfume still lingered, light and floral. Â
âGuten Abend,â König greeted, his voice deep and soft as he extended a hand toward you. âYou look⊠breathtaking.â Â
Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and you smiled shyly, taking his hand. âThank you. You look great too.â Â
He held your hand for a moment longer than necessary, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles before he released it and gestured toward the car. âShall we?â Â
You nodded, letting him open the car door for you. As you slid into the plush leather seat, your nerves began to settle, replaced by a growing excitement. Whatever tonight had in store, it was already starting to feel like something special. Â
As the car cruised smoothly toward the eastern side of the city, you stole a glance at König. His focus was trained on the road ahead, his large hands gripping the steering wheel with a surprising gentleness. The soft hum of the carâs engine filled the silence between you, and you found yourself nervously fiddling with the ends of your sleeves, wracking your brain for somethingâanythingâto say.
Your gaze drifted out the window in quiet defeat, watching as the snow fell in lazy flakes, blanketing the streets in a serene glow.
Little did you know, König was locked in a similar mental battle. Small talk had never been his strength. Socializing, in general, was a struggle, a deep-seated insecurity born from years of bullying and isolation. Even now, he could still hear the mocking laughter of his classmates, and feel the sting of their taunts. The only reason heâd entered the mafia world was because a mobster had seen him, bloodied but unyielding, defending himself against a particularly cruel bully.
König let out a heavy sigh, the sound breaking the quiet tension in the car and catching your attention.
âSorry, Liebling,â he muttered, his voice low and tinged with self-consciousness. âI am not... how do you say? Good at starting conversations. Sorry.â
His admission was so earnest, so vulnerable, that it made your chest tighten. You smiled softly, shaking your head.
âDonât be,â you said, your voice kind. âIâm not that great at it either.â
You hesitated for a moment, then, desperate to keep the conversation going, asked, âWhat about your wound? Is it healed?â
Your cheeks flushed as soon as the words left your mouth, and you inwardly cringed. Of all things to askâŠ
Königâs head tilted slightly toward you, and even with the mask, you could tell he was surprisedâand perhaps a little touchedâby your concern.
âItâs much better now,â he said, his tone warming. âThanks to you.â
You glanced at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile beneath the fabric of his mask. His hand briefly left the steering wheel to tap lightly at his side. âYour stitchesâthey hold perfectly. You are... very skilled.â
His compliment made your blush deepen, and you ducked your head to hide your smile. âI just did what anyone would do.â
âNo,â he replied firmly, his voice softening again. âNot anyone. You cared.â
The weight of his words hung in the air, and the comfortable silence between you both felt surprisingly warm. You realized something else nowâKönig had called you Liebling instead of his usual Hase. You couldnât help but wonder about the change, and the question bubbled up before you could stop it.
âKönig,â you asked, your curiosity piqued, âWhat does Hase mean? And... why do you call me that?â
The sudden question seemed to catch König off guard. His face, though still obscured by the mask, darkened in a deep flush. He cleared his throat, a nervous, almost sheepish sound, before turning his attention back to the road as he guided the car into the parking lot of a luxury store.
You watched him closely, waiting for him to speak, the soft hum of the engine accompanying the brief pause.
After a moment, he exhaled, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly as he parked the car. He took a slow breath, as if preparing himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was more measured, quieter than usual.
âIt means... rabbit or hare,â he replied, his voice steady but thick with emotion. âI called you that because... when we first met, your doctorâs coat made you look like a white rabbit in winter.â
The words were simple, but the warmth in his tone made your heart flutter. You blinked, surprised, but then a small smile tugged at your lips. The idea of him thinking of you that wayâfragile, maybe, but also somehow strongâwas endearing.
You couldnât help but laugh softly, your cheeks warming from his unexpected but sweet reasoning. âA white rabbit, huh? Thatâs... oddly fitting, I think.â
König shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a faint hint of embarrassment in his posture, but there was something soft in his eyes as he glanced over at you. "I think you were my... safe place. Like how a rabbit would always hide in the snow."
His words settled in the car with a quiet, tender weight that was almost too much to process. You didnât quite know what to say in response, but the gestureâhis quiet affectionâspoke volumes.
You couldnât help but rest your head on Königâs arm, a soft giggle escaping your lips. âIâm grateful you see me that way,â you murmured, feeling the warmth of his presence. Then, with a playful smile, you added, âIf I can say something... you remind me of a bear. You make me feel so safe, and yet, youâre so strong, but gentle too.â
Königâs breath caught at your words, and a soft chuckle escaped him, a deep rumble that made your heart flutter. He gently tightened his arm around you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. âA bear, huh?â he said, his voice warm and almost teasing. âI can live with that. As long as Iâm your bear.â
You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection, and smiled. The warmth between you felt unspoken, but it lingered in the air, like a silent promise. As the two of you shared a quiet moment, you stepped out of the car, his hand brushing against yours. Together, you walked towards the entrance of the store, the soft crunch of snow beneath your feet almost drowned out by the beating of your heart. Â
You entered the store, the soft chime of the door marking your arrival. At first, the clerks seemed uninterested in you, going about their tasks as if you were just another customer. But when they noticed König holding your hand, their demeanor shifted instantly. Their attention focused on you, and suddenly, they began pulling out the most elegant, expensive dresses, each more beautiful than the last. Yet, despite their efforts, nothing felt quite right. You sighed, feeling a little discouraged.
"Why donât you look around while I talk to the clerk?" König suggested, noticing the frustration in your expression. You nodded, giving him a small smile, and wandered off, leaving him to converse with the store manager.
As you walked through the store, you couldnât shake the feeling of hopelessness. Nothing seemed to catch your eye. But then, in the corner of your vision, something shimmeredâsomething that made your heart skip a beat. A black silk off-shoulder gown with a striking collar. The material looked luxurious, the color deep and alluring, and you felt drawn to it immediately.
Without thinking, you walked straight toward it, your fingers grazing the fabric.
A store clerk, noticing your interest, approached with a polite smile. "Would you like to try it on, Miss?"
"Yes, please," you replied, your voice filled with excitement and a touch of hope. You couldnât wait to see how it would look on you.
When you slipped into the gown, it fit you like a glove. The silk hugged your curves in all the right places, the off-shoulder design showcasing your collarbones beautifully. You turned to face the mirror, admiring the way the gown shimmered under the lights. To complete the look, you added red heels, their bold color a perfect contrast to the black silk, and slipped on a pair of pearl earrings and a matching necklace that the clerk suggested.
As you turned to take in your reflection, you caught a glimpse of König in the mirror. His eyes were locked on you, a look of awe on his face. He stood there, frozen for a moment, his usual confident demeanor replaced with something softer. The intensity in his gaze made your heart race as you smiled shyly at him.
âYou look... breathtaking, Hase,â König murmured, his voice low and full of admiration. His words seemed to hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappeared, leaving only the two of you.Â
You blushed, clasping your hands together. âThank you, König. I think Iâll take it, but I canât really let you pay for this. Itâs⊠2,500! Not to mention everything elseââ
âIt is a gift for saving my life, Meine Liebe,â König said softly, taking your hand and kissing it gently. His lips lingered for a moment before he pulled back to look at you, his eyes filled with sincerity.
You looked slightly puzzled. âBut the dinnerââ
âIt was a way for me to try to confess my feelings. Iâve fallen in love with you, Meine Liebe. So now, I will properly say it. Will you go out with me, Hase?â
The words hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you froze in shock. Your heart raced as the realization sank in. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, your mind spinning. He had fallen for you? The man you had admired from a distance, the one who had quietly made an impact on your lifeâhe felt the same way?
You couldnât help but smile, your voice soft but steady. âYes,â you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips, but it was everything. It was the answer you both had been waiting for.
Königâs face broke into a smile, his eyes shining with warmth and affection. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. The world around you faded once again, and for the first time, you truly felt like you belonged with someone.
The car ride was quiet, the gentle hum of the engine filling the space as König drove you to your apartment. The soft glow of the streetlights passed by, casting fleeting shadows through the window. Neither of you spoke much, but there was a calm, unspoken understanding between youâcomfort in each other's presence.
When the car finally came to a stop in front of your apartment building, König turned off the engine and met your gaze. The silence stretched for a moment, but there was no awkwardness, only a sense of warmth and connection.
"You sure you're okay?" König asked softly, his voice carrying that familiar concern.
You nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Thank you for everything tonight. It was... perfect."
His eyes softened as he gave you a small smile. "Iâm glad you think so."
You opened the door and stepped out, pausing as you turned back to face him. âKönig?â
âYesââ
Before he could say anything else, you leaned in quickly, pressing a gentle kiss on top of his mask. The contact was brief, but the warmth of it lingered between you, and you felt your heart race in a way you hadnât expected.
"Goodnight, König," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.
"Goodnight, Liebling," he replied, his voice filled with something tender, as his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer. He smiled softly, his expression almost unreadable, but the warmth in his eyes was unmistakable.
As you watched him drive away, you couldnât help but feel a flutter in your chest. Tonight had felt like something out of a dream, and as you walked toward the entrance of your building, your thoughts swirled with everything that had happened. You were already looking forward to whatever came next.
Back in the car, König blushed deeply, his fingers gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual. His heart was pounding, and he couldnât believe what had just happened. He fumbled for his phone and quickly dialed Horangi, his voice nervous.
âHorangi... you wonât believe it... She kissed me...â König muttered, his words coming out in a rush.
Horangi's voice crackled on the other end, a knowing smirk evident in his tone. âOh, really now? What did I tell you?â
König groaned, his face flushing even deeper. "Shut up... it was... it was on my mask, but still! She kissed me!"
The sound of Horangi laughing loudly was unmistakable, filling the quiet car. âMan, youâre blushing like crazy. Just wait till the others hear about this!â
König sighed, feeling embarrassed but also a little giddy, as his mind replayed the moment over and over.
Extra
Horangi hung up the phone with an amused look, his eyes scanning the group of mobsters who had been eagerly watching him. The tension in the room was palpable as they waited for his verdict. They had been betting on how Königâs confession would goâwhether it would scare the girl away, make things awkward, or perhaps be the perfect moment for romance.
Horangi glanced around at the eager faces, then with a dramatic pause, he delivered the news.
âShe kissed him.â
The room erupted into chaos. Hutch and Roze both slammed their hands on the table, raging over their bet that it would make things awkward. âI knew it! I knew it was going to be awkward!â Roze grumbled, throwing his hands up in frustration.
Verge groaned from his corner, cursing under his breath. âDammit! I bet it would scare her off. How did I get that so wrong?â
The only one who remained calm amidst the chaos was Oni, who was lounging comfortably on the couch, casually counting his winnings. A small smirk tugged at his lips as he observed the mayhem unfolding around him. He was the only one who had placed his bet on the doc not being scared awayâand as the others argued, Oni leaned back, savoring his victory.
âEasy money,â he muttered to himself, not bothering to glance up at the group.
Part 1
Part 3
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Y/N: I want to kill that fucking rat but make it look like an accident Ghost: Say no more, leave it to me *later* Graves: Looks like the killer shot him and placed a banana peel by his feet
#call of duty#incorrect call of duty quotes#incorrect cod quotes#incorrect quotes#cod incorrect quotes#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#call of duty modern warfare#cod x reader#ghost#phillip graves#philip graves#cod x y/n#cod x you#call of duty x y/n#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#task force 141 x you#task force 141 x reader#tf141 x reader#tf141 x you#cod simon riley#simon riley#ghost call of duty#ghost simon riley#call of duty ghost#simon riley cod#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader
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EEE
TATTED UP! Simon Riley who lets you turn him into a colouring book. He doesnât care how you colour his tattoos, he just wants to see the scrunched up look of concentration on your cute face.
âWhat colour do you want?â You murmur as you glance at your numerous eyeshadow palettes. Simon wants to say black or grey but he sees the way you eye the pink palette for a moment too long.
â⊠Pink.â He finally answers, his gaze focused solely on your bright smile.
You find joy in colouring his arm with various shades of pink and purple as he watches. âLook, so cute.â You murmur, eliciting a low laugh from Simon.
âYeah.â His voice rumbles, âYou wanna colour the rest in?â
BONUS
âAye, LT, you got your tattoo redone or what?â Jonny can barely hold back his laughter as he looks at Simonâs arm. The previously edgy tattoos were now adorned with feminine colours and glitter.
âNo. Just making the misses happy.â Simon doesnât really care for his teammatesâ reactions because the memory of your smile is enough to block out Jonnyâs cackles.
#simon riley x you#call of duty simon riley#ghost simon riley#simon riley ghost#simon riley#simon riley x reader#kyle cod#cod x you#ghost cod x reader#cod john price#gaz cod#cod x reader#soap cod#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#call of duty#call of duty x reader
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Simon âGhostâ Riley X GN! Reader â Iâll Be Home For Christmas
Simon âGhostâ Riley x GN! Reader â Iâll Be Home For Christmas
Notes: if you see any error please feel free to let me know! I made another Gender Neutral for Christmas! (If you see any mistakes with gender for the reader please let me know, I want to make sure I fix it so everyone can enjoy!)
Word count: 1340
Warnings: None!
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Christmas season was upon you. The wait was no longer needed and the holiday season was in full throttle for many people. But for you it felt like the holidays just werenât here yet, not without Simon.
It had been months since you last saw Simon. The countdown had been brutal â each day dragging on like a century, filled with empty space and a gnawing ache in your chest. The last words heâd said to you were promises, hollow at the time. But now, somehow, a beacon of hope. Especially for you.
âIâll be back for Christmas, I swear on it.â
You hadnât expected it to be easy. Life with Simon Riley had always been an unpredictable blend of intensity and distance, but there was something about it this time that just feltâŠdifferent.
It could have stemmed from many different things, truly. Like there was something about the way heâd held you the night before he left, the unspoken words in his eyes as he kissed you goodbye at the airport.
Maybe it was just the fact that the holidays made everything feel moreâŠamplified.
Like the empty chair at your dinner table, or the lonely flicker of Christmas lights on the tree.
But today just felt different. Like something magical was truly going to happen like some sort of Christmas miracle. Which is kinda cheesy to think about. But you couldnât help it, you just felt a flicker of hope. Who would blame you for holding onto that flicker of hope.
People always said miracles happen on Christmas and you hoped just this once, it would happen. Even if it was on Christmas Eve.
You found yourself standing in front of your front door, staring at the snow falling softly outside. The world felt quiet, calm, and still. In your opinion it was too still. You glanced at the clock for the fifth time in the last hour and you could just tell the hands in the clock seemed to mock you, ticking by at a pace that made the seconds feel like years.
Your attention was quickly drawn away though, when suddenly a car door slammed. It was then followed by the unmistakable sound of boots crunching through the snow. Something you had heard often when Simon was coming home in the winter. Though he wasnât grumbling or complaining like he usually did.
You knew he hated winter, the cold wasnât his favorite. He hated how it set deep into his bones, sometimes making him feel like he couldnât warm up. He dealt with it though because deep down you knew he liked to have a white Christmas.
The crunching of snow got closer. Your heart skipped a beat. You couldnât help it but to step closer toward the door, breath catching in your throat. Your hand reached forward for the doorknob and when you opened it, there he wasâŠ
Simon.
His face was partially obscured by the shadow of his balaclava, but youâd recognize that broad frame and those piercing brown eyes anywhere. His tactical gear was gone, replaced by a simple black hoodie and faded jeans. His duffel bag hung over one shoulder, snowflakes settling on his mask and on his shoulders decorating him for the vast winter wonderland.
For a long moment, neither of you said anything. He just stood there, looking at you like he wasnât sure if he was allowed to believe you were real. If you were being honest you felt the same and maybe wondered if you had too much eggnog in your system.
You were the first to move, closing the distance between you in an instant. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His scent, that familiar mix of sweat, leather, and something uniquely him, filled your senses.
âThought you werenât coming,â you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.
Simonâs arms tightened around you, his usual stoicism giving way to something raw. âHad to make sure I did,â he replied, his voice low and gravelly. âCouldnât miss this⊠couldnât miss you. Plus Iâm pretty sure I promised you Iâd be home.â
You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hand coming to rest against his jaw. His eyes flickered down to your lips before returning to your gaze, something soft and vulnerable lingering there â a look youâd rarely seen from him.
âBeen waiting for you,â you said, your thumb brushing over the area where his scar was located on his cheek, the mark youâd kissed so many times in the past. Now it was still covered in that balaclava he loved so much. âI thought Iâd go crazy without you.â
He let out a breath, his hand coming up to cup your face gently. âI know. Iâm sorry.â
You shook your head, smiling despite the ache in your chest. âDonât apologize, Simon. Just⊠just be here. Be with me.â
For a moment, neither of you moved. The world outside might have been freezing, but here, in this moment, it felt like time had stopped entirely â just the two of you, finally reunited after what felt like an eternity apart.
âYou got the tree up,â Simon said, glancing over your shoulder at the twinkling lights and the ornaments hanging from the branches.
You smiled sheepishly. âI tried. Thought Iâd have someone to help me decorate it, butâŠâ you trailed off, your voice thick with unspoken words.
Simonâs lips quirked into a faint smile. âYeah, I get it.â He gently lifted his balaclava above his nose as you could see his red lips which were surely chapped due to the weather and his mask.
He leaned forward, pressing a slow, tender kiss to your lips. It was the kind of kiss that made everything else in the world fade away, leaving nothing but the feeling of him â your Simon â finally home. His lips were warm against yours, his touch grounding you in ways words could never explain.
When he pulled back, he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. âMerry Christmas,â he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
You laughed softly, pulling him inside. âMerry Christmas, big guy. You almost missed it,â you teased, âbut I guess you made it just in the nick of time.â
âIâm here, arenât I?â He raised an eyebrow, a rare glimmer of mischief flashing in his eyes. âThatâs all that matters.â
You smiled and closed the door behind him, then turned back to him, finally feeling like the holiday season had begun. Christmas had never meant much to you before â not without him. But now, with Simon standing here, his presence filling the room with something warmer than the heat from the fireplace, everything felt right.
You let go of his hand only for a moment to grab something from the kitchen. âI made dinner,â you said, glancing back over your shoulder. âYou hungry? If I know you the answer is yes.â
Simon chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. âMaybeâŠyes.â He gave you a teasing look, one that made your heart flutter. âI am starving.â
âFigured as much, they donât feed you enough do they?â you shot back with a grin. âTheyâre starving you, all my hard work of feeding you well has gone down the drain.â
Simonâs expression softened, and for a long moment, you both stood there, the weight of everything that had happened â the long deployments, the fears, the missed moments â evaporating in the warmth of the room. He was home with you.
âYeah, look at me,â he teased, his voice full of something you couldnât quite place, but it was good. âSkin and bone, not fluffy and cuddly.â
And as the night carried on, you and Simon settled together on the couch, the tree lights casting a soft glow over the room. The world outside seemed so far away, and for the first time in a long time, there was peace.
This Christmas, you had everything you needed. Simon, home where he belonged.
#cod x reader#cod x you#cod imagine#cod mw2#cod mw ghost#ghost cod#ghost imagines#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley imagines#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley imagine#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley imagines#simon ghost riley#cod x gn!reader#gn reader#simon riley
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Part two of monster!141 x chubby reader
Part One.
CW: reader isnât in a good place mentally and itâs affecting her reactions and the 141 absolutely take advantage of it. This is definitely not accurate in terms of reality. Reader has a lot of self-esteem issues, especially regarding her weight.
The thing is, you know you should be panicking way more. You know you should be fighting back, trying to think of an escape plan.
But you donât. Exhaustion clings to you like a second skin, and you simply decide you donât have any energy to do anything much- especially against shifters twice your size at the minimum. If they want to kill you, so be it. You doubt thereâd be anyone to miss you; your parents only ever cared about your other siblings, your friends werenât exactly your friends apparently, and you exâŠ
âPenny for your thoughts, dove?â The harpy whose lap you are perched on murmurs, wings fluffing out around you, the feathers soft and warm. You havenât been on any couches or cushions ever since you woke up here, always in one of their laps. You had been terrified at first, and fear still lingers even now, but all they do is hold you tight and occasionally sniff you. Nothing more.
âNot worth much.â You whisper, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. The feathers around you rustle again, tickling your skin ever so slightly, and you can feel him nuzzle the crown of your head.
âI disagree,â Kyle says, voice musing.. The arms wound around your waist tighten, and you are pulled impossibly closer to him. Your head still finds it hard to believe just how strong they are- easily maneuvering someone even of your size like your weigh nothing. Your ex never bothered; often just made a passing mention that maybe heâd carry you like that if you hit the gym and lost a few pounds. âWorth quite a lot to me. To us.â
You donât have a reply to that; itâs still weird and unbelievable to you. Soulmates. What a joke. Even if they existed, you doubted anyone would like you like this. Not to mention the soulmate of a harpy, a werewolf, a dragon and a wraith? It sounded like a crappy plot youâd find while scouring the internet, written by a college student driven insane in their last year.
But they insisted they were right, and refuse to let you go, and now here you are being cuddled to one of them while the other three thud about upstairs. You can hear their voices, but not what they are saying. Though it sounds like they are quite busy.
âYou cold, dove?â Kyle asks when he feels you shudder again, at last wrapping his wings fully around you even before you can answer. The feathers are so soft, and he smells so nice, like jasmine and vanilla. You almost felt hungry, simply smelling him.
âNo.â The answer is quiet, croaked out tiredly. Sleep tugs at you even though it hasnât been that long since youâve woken up, the pounding, hungover headache long since dissipated.
You hate this syrupy slowness that lets you remain snuggled against him. You hate how safe you feel, despite your mind screaming at you otherwise. You donât know these men, donât know anything about them except their names, and yet your body has never felt quite this comfortable.
âSleep, precious.â Kyle croons, his hand rubbing down your back. He buries his face in your hair, still crooning, and leaves a trail of kisses across your temple. âSleep. You are safest and soundest here, with us.â
And so your eyes flutter shut, and your breath evens out; sleep comes to you as easy as breathing, and for one, ephemeral second, you donât worry about your weight being too much for him.
#noona.writes#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#kyle gaz x you#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#gaz x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#noona.posts#simon ghost x you#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#john price x you#soap x you
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role-playing w/price pt. 2 đŹ (đœ link)
you know how i said that after role-playing as student and professor with you price already had more skutty outfits on the way? well, yeah, he became unstoppable. every week there was a new package arriving at your house, with the most indicent pieces of clothing, one after another.
sometimes he didn't make you wear them to fuck you in them, but just to admire your body and take pictures of you so he could have a stash for when he's away from home. others involved a tad more than just adoring or fucking. like that maid outfit.
he loved the idea of playing as someone who had power over you, that you had to somehow obey to. so he made you clean in those clothes that left nothing to the imagination, making you bend over so he could see your sweet middle peaking behind that diminute skirt.
he would order you around, indicating what you should clean next while he rubs the raging boner that he's carrying through his jeans. and without warning, the next thing he asks you to clean is his hard dick. which inevitably lead to said cock to e sheathed inside of your overly wet cunt.
he's 100% gonna make you clean up whatever mess you made right after.
#cod#cod x reader#cod headcanons#cod smut#cod x y/n#cod x you#p!link#captain price#cod price#price smut#john price#price#price x y/n#price x you#price x reader#john price smut#cod john price
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Reader: right so I'll just go die, where's my gun ill do it right now since EVERYONE HATES ME
Johnny, holding the connect four piece after winning:
Kyle:
Simon:
Price: right so you're going call that therapist i got you
#Real life quotes overheard at base#cod x you#simon riley fanfic#coco's chaos <3#call of duty soap#ghost call of duty#call of duty humor
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