#Gaz turned out so cute!!!
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Soap’s escapin’, Roach is giving his biggest, wettest, saddest puppy eyes, Gaz is trying flattery, Ghost’s gonna bite, and Price is Patiently Waiting
#Gaz turned out so cute!!!#I like him a lot I need to draw him more#Soap and Roach’s expressions were the most fun to draw tho#forced perspectives are SO FLIPPIN HARD#I think I only got Soap’s proportions#everyone else looked strange with tiny feets#looking at it now Roach should’ve been underneath Ghost’s chin#but they’re roughly the same size in the old MW game#so I’m not too cut up about it#tf141#tf 141#task force 141#captain john price#john price cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod ghost#johnny soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#cod soap#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#cod gaz#gary roach sanderson#gary sanderson#roach cod#modern warefare 2#mw2#call of duty#cod
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HEY IM BACK TO BOTHER UU
OK IMAGINE THIS
simon seeing how you always coo at babies you see in public (grocery store, shopping, park, etc) and he decides then and there that you WILL be the mother of his children. and like maybe he never even wanted kids but after this happens one or two times he is SET on it.
idk just a thought that i had to share!
I am listening so hard
Simon gets hit with baby fever hard, he doesn’t even know what baby fever is - he just sees you with chunky little babies and snotty kids and something in his brain goes off. he just gets the itch to make you a mom, the urge to buy those stupid little baby shoes that look so fucking cute and why don’t you have a baby now—
Simon isn’t subtle either, he’ll silently guide your shopping trips so you end up in baby aisles, little onesies and pacifiers on display. you don’t even have a kid, but Simon picks up a cute little ducky pacifier and sets it in the cart. “Simon? We don’t need tha—”, turning his back to you, he just sets off out of the aisle, “Might.”, he mumbles
Simon who empties your guest your room one day, paint buckets in hand. he claims to just be ‘redoing’ the room, also lovie, if a box for a crib gets delivered call for him - Simon will sign for it! he’s like a man possessed, just mutters something about, “Could ‘ave a permanent guest…”, and it leaves you chuckling. he’s even got the 141 over to help, Gaz helping Simon paint while John squared try to assemble the crib
Simon who acts shocked when you tell him you’re pregnant, pretends to be innocent, “Really? How could tha’ ‘ave happened?”. he’s extremely excited even though he’s keeping a straight face, but you can tell - his fingers are tapping against his thighs and he’s bouncing his leg a little. and what a coincidence, Simon somehow predicted you’d need a nursery! good thing he converted that guest room, right doll?
#ghost#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost headcanons#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod#cod thoughts#call of duty#hit post
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When Gaz walks into the bases common room, his goal for making his third cup of tea of the day is diverted when he catches sight of Soap’s expression across the room.
The Scot looks absolutely befuddled, eyes wide and sitting slack-jawed across from his Lieutenant. Gaz walks over to the men, catching the very end of Ghost telling his companion to ‘piss off’.
“Alright?” He asks the lads, raising a brow in question.
“Ye oughta hear the shite LT’s tryin’ to convince me of over here!” Soap is all too eager to inform his friend. Ghost grunts, leaning further back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes as far back as he can, as if to tell the Sergeant in front of him ‘this is why I don’t tell you anything’.
Because that’s almost exactly what Ghost is thinking at that moment. He’d just entered the common room when he’d spotted the back of an all too familiar head, fiddling and distracted with the microwave.
When he’d walked up behind the younger man and echoed his call sign out in greeting, his mask hid the smug smirk that appeared at the jump Soap gave, uttering a loud “Shit!” in surprise.
Soap went on to complain about how he was apparently attempting to jumpstart his heart, drawling on about how the Lieutenant was always sneaking up on people like this, moving quiet as a Ghost.
“My missus says the same thing.” The masked man had mentioned casually, as if his chest hadn’t automatically puffed out in pride, standing up a little straighter at the mention of his girl.
“She says you’re too quiet? Aye, LT, think a lot o’ couples have complaints of the sorts in bed ya see-”
“Shut it, you prick.” Ghost quickly shut him down, ending that line of thought. “She says I walk too quietly in the flat. Accidentally scaring her all the time, poor thing.”
At that, Soap’s eyebrows had shot sky high, keen to hear more about the big bad Ghost’s life of apparent domestic bliss, turning him into an absolute sap.
Ghost wouldn’t normally volunteer information about his personal life. But he just loves you so much. And now that he’s not only thinking about you because he is all the time, but also talking about you, his mouth didn’t seem to want to stop talking about you.
“She put her foot down with me recently.” He’d added with a deep chuckle.
“She did what?” Soap had asked bewildered.
“She called it ‘putting her foot down’. I walked up behind her when she was doin’ dishes. Poor bird didn’t hear me and dropped somethin’.”
“Oh, no! Simon! That’s my favourite mug!!” You’d cried out, watching your most treasured ceramic shattering on the tile floor of the kitchen, spreading every which way across the room.
“M’sorry lovie. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” He’d sheepishly responded, reaching to turn off the running faucet. He’d grabbed the dish towel and gave it to you to dry your hands, lifted you by the waist and set you on the counter with ease, not wanting you to get hurt with your bare feet. He’d turned, already in search of a broom and dust pan.
“Again. You mean I’m sorry for scaring you again.” You had corrected him, narrowing your eyes. “I can’t take it anymore Simon. You don’t need to be stealthy at home, my love, you can make noise when you walk. In fact I need you to make noise when you walk at home!”
Simon had nodded along, diligently sweeping up every piece of your ruined mug.
“I’ll try harder sweetheart. I promise.” He’d offered, dumping the remnants into the bin before he’d walked up to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as yours slid around his shoulders.
The very next weekend he’d taken you to a local pottery painting class to make up for the lost mug, as well as you telling him off (because yeah, that was what Simon considered you putting your foot down with him, and he never wanted it to happen again if he could help it).
Ghost finds himself grinning further under his mask at the memory however, of how cute you looked as you tried to raise your voice at him, laying down the law in your shared home.
“And so what’d ya tell her?” Soap asked, curious to know how his Lieutenant had reacted, but more so if the man would even reply or rather would tell him to fuck off.
“I didn’t tell her anythin’.” Simon had uttered. “Did as my missus asked me to do, and that was the end of the story. Well, s’pose I did I tell her I’d look into mug making classes or whatever.”
“…”
“You what?!”
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost fanfic#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley fluff#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost#cod fluff#cod fic#cod fanfic#cod x reader#cod#readwritealldayallnight#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick
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You introduce your husband as your "boyfriend" to annoy them.
Anon! This prompt has me screaming! I really enjoyed writing for this one because it's such a fun idea. Sure, our 141 boys might be a little mad that they aren't being called by their proper title, but you know they'll just love punishing you for it.
I went a little different with this one. Instead of introductions, I made it so that reader is constantly referring to them as "boyfriend" in public settings. Depending on the situation, introductions wouldn't make sense if it was with friends, family, or coworkers because they would likely already know that they're "husband" and not "boyfriend." So i changed it up a bit in that way!
Some of these fall into spicy territory without being descriptive.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, suggestive themes, non-descriptive mentions of sex, fade to black, brief dirty talk
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon shakes his head and you roll your eyes.
“We can ask someone for help,” you suggest, scanning the massive wall of televisions.
Simon grunts and crosses his arms. “No.”
Sometimes Simon’s stubbornness is cute—even sexy—but right now you’re just annoyed with him. It makes you want to stir up trouble, to cause a little chaos just for the fun of it. Pouting, you turn, eyes narrowing to find an associate of the electronics store. When you spot one near the HDMI cables, you take off, not caring if Simon follows.
“Excuse me.”
The man’s head perks up. “How can I help you?”
You gesture behind you, your hand smacking into Simon’s chest. “My boyfriend—”
“Boyfriend?” growls Simon, but you ignore him.
“—can’t decide on a television.”
Simon is not your boyfriend. He’s your husband. But he’s being stubborn, not making a decision, and you want out of this store.
Shifting, you place one hand on Simon’s large bicep, grinning like you haven’t done anything at all. Simon’s hand immediately grabs your ass, squeezing hard. A warning. One that you ignore.
“I can help with that,” replies the associate. You glance at the man’s nametag. Jim.
“Thank you so much, Jim.” You lean against Simon, giving Jim your best smile. “Getting this guy to commit to anything is so hard sometimes, ya know?”
Jim makes a noncommittal noise as he walks toward the wall of televisions. You start to follow but Simon’s hold on your ass tightens, keeping you pressed against him. Simon leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.
“What are you doing?” he whispers.
You elbow Simon in the side but it’s not hard. He lets go, keeping close to you as the two of you follow Jim over to the televisions. Standing back, you watch with glee as Simon is forced to talk to Jim. You stay out of it, but notice Simon’s gaze switching to you every so often.
You already know what he’s thinking. He’ll likely want to punish you, and sometimes those punishments are so sweet.
Once Simon selects something and the two of you are at the car, there is no safety net. Simon shuts the trunk and then you’re pressed against the car, your body trapped between it and Simon’s massive form.
“Boyfriend?” he accuses.
You shrug. “What do you mean?”
The growl in Simon’s throat comes out a groan. “Get in the car.” He lightly slaps your ass as you open the passenger door.
As you start to slide in, Simon’s hand returns, this time slipping under your skirt to find your thin, lace underwear. He tugs sharply, ripping the fabric.
“Simon!”
He stuffs the underwear into his pocket. “You don’t need these.” You feel your face growing hot.
Simon shuts your car door and walks around the driver’s side, hopping in. He reaches out, placing one large hand on your bare thigh. It roams upward, squeezing, sending a shiver of lust up your body to make your head spin. “When we get home, I’m fucking that boyfriend nonsense right out of you.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“I’m so sorry, but this isn’t what my boyfriend ordered.”
Kyle frowns and glances up from his phone’s screen. That’s your voice he hears, but the term of address isn’t right.
Boyfriend. Not husband, as it fucking should be.
Kyle glances in your direction but you’re not looking at him. You’re smiling sweetly at the barista behind the counter.
“It should be hot. Not iced. I might have messed up. I’m so sorry. I can pay for another.” You raise your hands in a placating gesture but the barista doesn’t appear fazed at all.
“No biggie. Keep that one. Won’t take me more than a minute or two.”
“Thank you so much.” You glance at Kyle, and your smirk tells him all he needs to know.
You’re being a tease. You’re doing this on purpose. The drink order is wrong, and you’re using this as an excuse to poke at him.
Kyle locks his phone and casually slides it into his pocket. Do you think you’re going to annoy him by doing this? Maybe. The little smirk on your face tells him that’s entirely what you have in mind.
But the joke is on you. Doesn’t matter if you refer to him as “boyfriend,” because all it’ll earn you is a punishment.
As the barista slides the new drink across the counter to you, you thank them profusely. “Thank you so much. My boyfriend will really appreciate it.”
The barista only nods and turns back to the espresso machine.
As you approach with the coffee, Kyle gentle removes the drink from your grasp.
“Boyfriend?” he asks, amused.
You shake your head like you have no idea what he’s on about. “What?”
Kyle laughs and snags the other drink from your hand. With shock on your face, he strides up to the counter. “Can you set these aside for us? Be right back.”
They only nod and continue working. Kyle snags your wrist and drags you to the little hallway that curves out around. There are a few private corners in there, and the hallway itself opens up into the nearby bookstore.
Kyle checks the handle on the unisex bathroom. Finding it unlocked, he draws you inside.
“Kyle,” you hiss, but he’s not having any of it.
Kyle engages the lock and presses you up against the door.
“You owe me an apology,” he says.
“For what?” Kyle tuts, his hand sliding to the back of your neck. “Get on your knees,” he murmurs, undoing his belt buckle with the other hand. “Apologize with that gorgeous mouth of yours.”
John Price
John leans back in his chair, agitation irritating his spine.
House hunting isn’t something he’s particularly excited about. He is happy that it’s with you, his wife, but the tediousness of it all is exhausting to him. John would rather have you select a few places to tour and then be done with it all. Money isn’t the issue. He just wants you to find a place you like and the two of you can go from there.
He’d live in a tent if that’s what you want.
“My boyfriend isn’t all that picky.”
Boyfriend? John is tugged from his inner musings by your voice and that term of address. Boyfriend. Why the fuck would you call him that? John isn’t your boyfriend. He’s your goddamn husband.
You reach out, planting a hand on his thigh. You squeeze softly as you always do when you’re trying to reassure him, but John frowns down at it, and then looks up at you. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the realtor, completely ignoring him.
John licks his lips, considering whether to correct you or not, or leaving it up to a simple mistake, but you do it again.
This time, John didn’t mishear you.
Your hand squeezes his thigh again and Price rests his hand over yours. His fingers enclose your palm and he holds firm. You glance at him and John shoots you his best warning look. You don’t even react. Don’t event blink.
No. He’s going to correct you. He is absolutely fucking correcting you.
The realtor pivots the computer monitor. “I think any boyfriend would agree that these are excellent selections.”
That’s fucking it.
Price shoots up from his seat, keeping a tight grip on your hand. “I need to speak with my—” John pauses, swallowing down his annoyance. “Girlfriend. Privately.”
The realtor shrugs, smiling, but John is already turning around, dragging you out the door. Outside, the stuffy, summer air does nothing to soothe his annoyance.
“Boyfriend? Fucking boyfriend?” John crosses his arms over his chest, looming over you.
You shrug. “What’s the problem?”
“Behave yourself,” he says, lowering his voice.
“Or what?” you ask in mock innocence.
So, this is what you want. John understands the moment the words leave your mouth. You’re fucking teasing him. Fine. He’ll make you learn.
“We are gonna go back in, thank the kind woman for her time, and then we’re leaving.”
“No. I want to stay.”
John leans in but he notices the way you glance away from him and back, clearly flustered. “Good girls don’t play games.”
“Funny,” you reply, head tilting slightly. “That as my boyfriend you have any authority over me.”
John pivots, blocking the view of the front door from you. “I will bend you over that bench so fast, wife.”
“You won’t,” you stammer.
John arches an eyebrow and you visibly swallow. “Want to test me?”
You pout, and then playfully shove him in the chest. “You’re terrible.”
As you turn for the door, John grabs your waist pulling you close. “You started it.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
“My boyfriend and I are redesigning our bathroom.”
Johnny’s attention splits. The associate showing him floor tiles is a distant thing. He might be talking about the newest ones on the market, but Johnny is no longer interested.
Did he just hear you right? Did you just call him boyfriend?
“That’s wonderful,” comes a reply, and Johnny notes an older woman talking to you near the laminate flooring that mimics wood. “Where is he?”
“Over there,” you wave at him, a smug smile on your face.
Boyfriend? Johnny is your fucking husband.
“Sir?” prompts the hardware store associate. “What do you think of these?”
Johnny grunts. “Fine. We’ll come back.” He waves the man off and starts for you even as you continuously refer to him as your boyfriend.
You’re doing it on purpose. You’re doing it to annoy him.
And it’s fucking working.
Johnny saddles up beside you, snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you taut against him.
“This is the boyfriend,” you begin, smiling.
“Husband,” corrects Johnny, flashing the same devious grin. He holds up his left hand, showing off the simple gold band. “Happily married to this one.”
The older woman’s eyes round.
“She likes to joke,” continues Johnny. “Come on, love. Better get home.”
Johnny easily guides you away. He leans down, whispering. “You little terror.”
“Bite me,” you reply.
“Oh. I will. Everywhere. When we get home.”
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#task force 141#task force 141 imagine#task force 141 x reader#task force 141 fanfiction#task force 141 fanfic#task force 141 fic#task force 141 fluff#task force 141 x female reader#task force 141 x you#simon riley cod#simon riley#simon riley fanfic#simon riley x reader#simon riley x fem!reader#cod ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost x you#kyle gaz x reader#gaz x reader#gaz x you#john price cod#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#soap x reader#soap x you#soap mactavish fanfic#john soap mactavish#soap mw2
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NEIGHBORLY.
simon riley/reader feat. soap + gaz
tags: smut, established relationship (engaged), retired!simon, neighbors!soap+gaz, afab!reader, gn!reader, age gap (not specified but i imagine 30s/20s), long winded pwp
cw: voyeurism, size difference, no foursome, cucking, throat fucking with fingers, blowjob, dacryphilia, pet names: love/lovie/sweetheart, praise, outdoor sex, cunnilingus, wet&messy, simon picks up reader bridal, striptease?, fingering, dirty talk, praise, lots of compliments!!!, masturbation, clothed/naked sex, standing sex, hand on throat!!!!!, creampie
; two guys called soap and gaz move in next door and aren't good at hiding the crush they develop on you. your fiance, simon, decides they're fun to play with.
"You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead."
8.5k words
When your fiancé surprised you by buying a quaint little house for the two of you to spend the rest of your lives together in, you were elated. It was straight out of your dreams, cute and cozy, yellow on the outside and enough room for a little garden if you so wished. It was in a quiet neighborhood but near enough to everything you needed that you could walk there if you so chose.
It was all so perfect – living with the love of your life in your first house together. Ready to start your lives and plan the upcoming wedding. Things were peaceful and you couldn’t have been happier.
Then the house next door sold.
“You really have to give them away?” Simon huffed from where he sat at the table, cheek resting on his propped up hand. His lidded gaze followed you as you flitted about the kitchen, cat-themed apron covered in flour.
You laugh over your shoulder, “It’s the polite thing to do! We have to be good neighbors!”
“They smell good…” Simon muttered, only making your smile broaden as you walked over to him.
His hands found your hips when you placed yours on his broad shoulders, black t-shirt getting white specks all over it from the flour still on your fingers, “After I get back from delivering these I’ll make a whole batch just for you, deal?”
He tongues the inside of his cheek before nodding, “Let’s get it over with.”
“You’re coming?” you ask, brows raised in surprise.
“Of course,” he huffs, giving your bottom a little pat when you bend over to grab the tupperware out of the lower cabinet.
You giggle and carefully place parchment paper inside before organizing the cookies in a way that looks nice. You pop the lid on and make your way to the door where Simon is leaning against it with his arms over his chest.
You try your best not to ogle him but he looks damn good; a simple pair of blue jeans fastened with a leather belt and a tight shirt that hugs his pecs and stretches the sleeves around his biceps when they flex.
“Maybe when we get back,” you hum, slipping your feet into your slides, “You can let me suck your dick on the couch, yeah?”
Simon rolls his eyes but doesn’t do a good job of hiding the crooked smile that slips across his face. He turns his back to you and opens the door for you before following you out and down the porch..
His heavy boots pound against the stairs, reminding you just how intimidating his stature is. It makes you pause, halfway between your yard and the new neighbors. You turn around and look up at him.
“What?” he raises a thick brow, crossing his arms over his chest again.
“Just…” you take a few steps backwards, playfully squinting at him with pursed lips, “Stay here, okay? We don’t want to scare the new neighbors.”
“You implying I’m scary, love?” he huffs, a smirk on his lips.
“I’m not implying it, Si,” you grin, “Just stay here while I deliver these.”
“You’re the boss,” he sighs.
True to his word, his feet remain planted right where he stands as you cross into the new neighbors yard. You hop up the stairs and ring the doorbell.
You hear a clamoring from the other side of the door before there’s a slam against the surface and muffled cursing. You bite back a laugh before smiling politely when the door swings open.
Two men stand in the doorway, one with a mohawk stands closest to you – probably the one who ran into the door.
“Oh,” he clears his throat, fixing his posture before flashing you a crooked grin, “Can-can we help ye?”
The other man, with pretty, brown eyes scoots closer, bumping shoulders with the other man, “You’re from next door.”
“Huh?!” The mohawk man gawks, whipping his head over to stare at the other man, “We had a pretty neighbor this whole time and you kept it to yerself?!”
“Are those for us?” he ignored his companion and looked at the tupperware in your hands.
“Oh!” you brush off mohawks comment and nod, holding the box out, “I made you some cookies. They’re just plain chocolate chip, I hope you don’t mind.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” he kindly smiles and takes the container from you, fingers brushing against yours.
“So,” mohawk rests his arm up on the door frame, eyeing you up and down, “My name’s Johnny but everyone calls me Soap.”
“Nice to meet you,” you nod your head in greeting, introducing yourself before looking at the other man who has opened the tupperware to take a cookie out.
“Kyle,” he offers before taking a bite, humming in satisfaction, “These are delicious.”
“Hey, don’t hog those for yourself, ye pig!” Soap cries, snatching a cookie out of the container before shoving the whole thing in his mouth with a moan, “These are good.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you like them,” you giggle, “You can return the tupperware whenever you’re ready.”
“So,” Soap hums before you can leave, “You’re pretty and you can bake, what else can you do? How about you come in and we can get to know each other more.”
You bashfully lower your head and laugh, “I don’t think my fiance would appreciate that very much.” You gesture over your shoulder.
Both men comically lean out of the doorway to look into the yard where Simon still stands, arms over his chest, brown eyes practically piercing through them.
“Ah, that’s a shame,” Soap mutters under his breath before sighing, “Figures, I suppose. Lucky bastard.”
You shake your head tossing a little wave to Simon before looking back at your neighbors, “I’ll be seeing you guys around. Enjoy the cookies!”
You can feel their eyes on you as you go and it isn’t until you reach Simon that you hear the door shut.
Your fiance looks down at you when you stand in front of him, “They liked the cookies.”
“Bet they did,” he hums, letting you take his hand and lead him back to the house where he proceeds to demand a fresh batch just for himself – as you promised.
The next time you see your neighbors, it’s just Kyle. You’re outside, kneeling in the grass with your hands covered in dirt as you plant some flowers.
“Hey there, neighbor,” a friendly voice calls from behind.
You turn to look to see Kyle dressed in a compression shirt, shorts, and running shoes, “Oh hello, Kyle!”
“Doin’ some dirty work, are you?” he asks, eyeing the holes you’re carefully digging.
“Just getting started on my garden,” you explain, “What about you? Going for a run?”
“That’s right,” he nods, “May be on leave but gotta keep movin’ or I go crazy.”
“Leave?” you ask, sitting up straight in interest, “You’re in the military?”
His eyes light up as he nods, “That’s right. Soap and I both.”
“You don’t live on base?” you ask, unable to hide your interest.
“Nah, had to live in the barracks for way too long I couldn’t handle it anymore,” he laughs, a charming smile that makes you smile back, “You interested in military men, love?” he asks, flirtatious tone more than obvious.
You laugh softly, “You could say that,” his brows raise in interest, “My fiance is ex-military. Discharged at Lieutenant for an injury.”
His smile is wiped from his face quickly and you bite back another laugh, “Right, your fiance.”
“I could introduce you, if you’d like,” you offer, “Simon doesn’t really get to talk to many people who know what the military is really like–”
“That’s alright, love,” Kyle says, smiling politely, “I’ve got a run to go on, I’m sure I’ll get the chance to meet him soon enough.”
“Alright,” you wave, hands still covered in dirt as he makes his way back to the sidewalk before jogging off and out of sight.
You finish planting and watering before you place all your tools in the shed and head back inside. Simon sits at the kitchen table, watching the tv that plays some movie from the living room.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets without looking away.
“Hi baby!” you chirp, making your way over to the sink so you can scrub your hands free of dirt, “I ran into Kyle outside!”
“Who?” he asks, barely showing any hint of interest.
“One of the guys from next door!” you remind him, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to wipe your hands dry, “Turns out they’re both in the military!”
“Is that right?” that finally gets his attention.
You nod, turning to look at him, “I offered to introduce you but I think they’re a little scared of you after all.”
He laughs through his nose before standing up, approaching you in a couple broad steps. He crowds you against the counter, hands on either side of you to prevent you from fleeing, “Think they wanna fuck you, lovie.”
You swallow thickly and look up at him, “Th-They’re just flirts…”
He hums, leaning down to press his lips against your neck, “Think I don’t know blokes like that? Young guys in the military like them only think about stuffing their pathetic pricks into whatever tight, wet cunts they can find.”
“S-Si, I haven’t showered yet…” you whisper when he starts trailing his lips along the side of your neck, “I was outside, remember?”
He scoffs, “What kinda man do you take me for?”
You giggle, squirming your way out of his hold, prancing past him and towards the stairs, “You can show me what kind of man you are after a shower.”
A grin spreads across his face as he chases after you, your sweet giggles music to his ears and cock already hard and heavy against his thigh, ready for you to be beneath him or the night.
He waits patiently for you to finish your shower. The second you’re out, a towel the only thing wrapped around you, he has you pinned on the bed.
“You like keeping me waitin’, lovie?” he huffs, nipping at your jaw as he tugs your towel open so he can palm your breasts. You spread your legs for him, legging your knees rest on his hips, “Leavin’ me here with a hard-on. Got my cock achin’, sweetheart.”
“Si…” you sigh wistfully, lashes fluttering as his dirty words make you clench around nothing, “I-I’ll make it up to you.”
“Oh?” he grins, broad tongue licking flat over one of your nipples, “I like the sound of that. You gonna let me use that pretty cunt?”
“Mhm,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his strong shoulders from the pleasure his tongue brings you.
“So sweet for me,” he hums, rough hands sliding down your body, over your hips and trailing along your thighs until goosebumps rise on your skin. He brings two fingers between your legs to spread your folds apart, the sticky noise audible between the two of you and it makes him snicker, “You’re this wet?”
Your cheeks burn in humiliation, “Sh-Shut up, don’t be mean.”
“Mean?” he asks incredulously, “You’re callin’ me mean while I’m playin’ with this pretty cunt?”
You open your mouth to retaliate but he slides two thick digits into your pussy. You whimper at the burn that it causes but it fades quickly when he crooks his fingers just right to prod that sweet little spot inside you.
Your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt as he surges up to pull you into a kiss. You whimper into the kiss as he continues to stretch you open on his fingers, carefully introducing a third so you can take his cock later with ease. As you kiss, you grind your hips against his hand, his palm rubbing against your clit. The pleasure makes you sigh and shiver, a sweet little sound that makes Simon’s cock twitch in interest.
The kiss is sloppy and wet, messy strings of spit between your lips every time you part to take a breath. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his fingers as he fucks you with them, scissoring his digits to really stretch you out. He doesn’t know how much longer he can wait
“Please, Si,” you gasp, the plea making him stop, glancing over your face to see how badly you really need it.
He sits back on his knees, flingers sliding out of your cunt with an obscene schlick. He unbuttons his jeans and moves the fabric out of the way so he can pull his hard, leaky cock free. He wraps his hand around himself, using the slick covering his fingers to lube himself up.
“Take it off,” you whine, making him pause.
He wants you so bad, just wants to fold you up and stuff his aching cock right in the tight, hot clutch of your pretty pussy. But the puppy-dog eyes you’re giving him has him huffing and obeying.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt so he can yank it over his head.
“Fuck,” you whisper, leaning up to run your hands over his chest and abdomen, feeling the firmness underneath your explorative fingers while he rids himself of his pants and boxers.
Once he’s finally bare, he gives you no more time to admire his body before he’s pinning you down underneath his massive weight. You can’t do anything but let him, breathing in his scent while enveloped by his overwhelming warmth.
He grips the base of his cock and slides the tip up and down between your folds, circling your clit to spread his precum all over it before meanly slapping the head against the little bud. The impact makes your thighs twitch and jump, a choked whimper of his name escaping your throat.
You arch your hips just right, finally drawing the fat head of his cock into your clenching cunt. He grunts, thumb coming up to swirl against your clit.
“Oh, that feels so good, Si,” you whimper, your praise making his whole body shudder as he works his hips forward, sinking more of his cock into you.
“I know, love,” he chokes out, eyes pinned on where you slowly take him inch by methodical inch, “I treat this little cunt just right, don’t I?”
“Uh-huh!” you whimper, thighs twitching against his waist when he hits that sweet spot with practiced ease, sinking balls deep easily with how absolutely soaked you are for him, “No one fucks me as good as you, Si.”
He plants both hands on either side of your head, pulling his hips back so only the head is enveloped by your hot little pussy before he rolls his hips forward and stuffs his full length right back inside. He hits your cervix, a painful shot zaps up your spine and makes you grasp his arms to dig your nails into his skin.
“I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, lovie,” he huffs, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as an apology for hurting you.
His next thrust isn’t as deep, avoiding slamming against your poor cervix but still deep enough that he can grind his pelvis right against your clit every time his hips meet yours.
“Simon!” you squeal, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your orgasm building.
“Fuck, look at that,” he grunts, head hanging between his shoulders, his wild hair tickling your face as he watches the creamy mess you’re covering his cock in, “Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, lovie.”
“You’re gonna make me cum!” you sob, hands slapping against his shoulders when he suddenly redoubles his efforts, encouraged by your announcement.
“I know I am, sweetheart,” he grunts, teeth clenched, “Always make this pretty cunt cum don’t I?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” you wail, throwing your arms around his neck, nails drawing thick, red marks down his back, “Cumming, cumming, cumming, Si! Fuck!”
He curses right in your ear, one arm wrapping under your arched back to pull your chest snug against his. He grinds his cock into you, no longer pounding into the gushing heat of your pillowy cunt, humping his pelvis against your clit to work you through the orgasm.
When you sag against him, sticky cunt still spasming around him from the aftershocks, he starts fucking you again, this time to his own end. He grunts and groans in your ear, body trembling from the effort of getting his own orgasm – his reward for making you cum nice and hard around him like you deserve.
“Shit, I love you s’much,” he slurs, lips getting loose from how close his high grows closer. His heavy balls slap against you, aching from how full they are, needing to fill you up with the load he built up just for you, “My pretty baby, so sweet and wet for me. A nice, perfect cunt for me to fuck, shit.”
Your cunt clenches pathetically at his filthy words, hearts in your eyes as you watch how handsome he looks with his brows furrowed and his pupils blown huge, making his brown eyes appear black, “Love you, Si. Please cum inside me, wanna feel you cum, please.”
He pants, slumping against your chest as he uselessly works his hips until his orgasm finally washes over him, spilling his cum inside you with a final, long, drawn out moan.
“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, hoarse and breathless as his cock throbs and pulses, spitting out ropes of cum that fill you up just right, “Take it all.”
“Ah…Si…” you sigh softly, carding your fingers through his hair as he rests against you, waiting for his cock to stop twitching from the aftershocks before he pulls out.
“You alright, lovie?” he coos, soothing his large hands over your body, “You did so well.”
You smile, cheeks warm and body buzzing from the incredible dick he had just given you, “Never better. You’re so handsome.”
He scoffs, rolling over to toss his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. He picks up his discarded shirt and uses it to wipe off his softened cock, cleaning the mess of your combined cum off of himself.
You hum, “I have to take another shower. Would you like to join me this time?”
He looks up at that, eyes twinkling in interest.
One afternoon, there’s a knock on your door that interrupts your peaceful dinner preparations. You wipe your hands off on your apron and make your way to it, passing by where Simon is transferring the wet clothes into the dryer.
On the other side stands Soap, an empty tupperware container in his hands.
“Hey there, darlin��,” he greets, holding the box out, “Gaz and I loved ‘em.”
“I’m glad to hear it!” you giggle, taking it from his hands, careful not to touch his hands with leftover vegetable residue on your own.
“Somethin’ smells heavenly,” he groans, leaning over your shoulder to take a whiff of the aroma drifting from your kitchen.
“I’m just making dinner,” you explain with a little shrug.
“Guess you’re one hell of a cook too, huh?” he compliments, a charming smile on his face.
“I get by,” you laugh.
“Say,” he says suddenly, “Is that big bastard really your fiance?”
You blink in surprise at his bold question, “Y-Yes..?” your response comes out more as a question.
“Is that a problem?” a deep, annoyed voice comes from behind you.
You jump when Simon’s firm, tattooed arm wraps around your waist, “Si, you should be watching the stove.”
“You go ahead and finish up, lovie,” he mutters, kissing your temple before shooing you away from the door.
“Ah,” Soap clears his throat awkwardly, as his back straightens, “Simon was it?”
“You’d be wise to watch your tongue,” Simon warns, “I’m not above putting you in your place.”
“Y-Yes sir,” Soap whispers, hands clasped behind his back, “I’ll be more mindful.”
“Get the hell off my porch,” Simon orders, watching the young man tuck his tail and dash down the stairs.
Simon quietly closed the door and made his way back to the kitchen where you were plating the food, “Everything okay, Si? You weren’t too hard on him, were you?”
Simon bites back a smile and takes the plates from your hands to put them on the table for you, “Who do you think I am?”
You give him a skeptical look before taking a seat in front of your food, “I don’t want to make enemies with our neighbors, Simon.”
He sighs, taking a seat across from you, “Alright, I’ll be nice, love. I promise. I’ll go over tomorrow and apologize for bein’ rude, will that make you happy?”
“Yes,” you smile, “They’re not too bad. They’re just…rambunctious. You said so yourself, you know how their types are! They’re just flirts.”
He nods, “They’re…interesting characters.”
The next day, true to his word, the next morning, Simon is standing in front of their door.
“Oh, hello neighbor,” Kyle greets nervously, “Is there something you need?”
“Your friend,” Simon grunts, “I’d like to talk to him.”
Kyle looks worried for a second, glancing over his shoulder where Simon assumes Soap was, “Whatever he did, don’t mind him. He’s just an idiot.”
Simon huffs out a laugh through his nose, “I wanted to apologize to him.”
“Oh!” Kyle gasps before looking back over his shoulder, “Soap, door for you!”
Soap rounds the corner and freezes when he sees Simon standing there, “Hello, sir.”
“Soap, right?” Simon says, “Listen, I was rude last night. I wanted to apologize.”
“Ah, well,” Soap shifts on his feet, casting a sideways glance at his friend, “I-I deserved it, I shouldn’t have said what I said either. Your relationship isn’t any of my business.”
Soap actually looks like a kicked puppy and Simon feels his own interest piqued, “Pretty, huh?”
“Sir?” Soap blinks in confusion.
Simon says your name, “Pretty little thing. Can’t blame you for makin’ eyes.”
“I…” Soap licks his lips, blue eyes wide in shock, “W-Well, yes, sir. Very pretty.”
Simon laughs softly, glancing over at his house where he knows you’re bustling about inside, “You think they’re pretty now. You should see them in nothing, bent over the kitchen table in tears.”
Soap’s throat moves as he swallows around the lump in his throat, mind conjuring up sinful images. Kyle’s eyes practically bug out of his head at Simon’s words.
The large man gives a tight lipped smile as a goodbye before he's stalking off of the porch, leaving the two young men slack-jawed and stunned into silence.
When Simon’s in the safety of his own home, he places a hand over his face and lets out the low chuckles he had been holding back.
“What’s so funny, Si?” you ask when you descend from the stairs, a laundry basket in your hands – the second load from yesterday that you hadn’t had the chance to do.
“Nothin’, lovie,” he grins, sharp canines on display, “Let me help you with that.”
“Did you make up with the neighbors?” you ask, letting him take the basket from your hands.
“I sure did,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before leading the way to the laundry room.
You give him a suspicious look but decide not to press the issue further, instead choosing to focus on the other chores you still had to do for the day.
Things seemingly settle down for a little while. You don’t see either of your new neighbors except for polite greetings in passing. All in all, things seem to quiet down.
You’re relaxing with Simon on the back veranda, curled in his lap on a swinging bench with a book in your hands. Usually, you’d be scrolling on your phone but Simon was always adamant about being tech-free when you were outside together like this.
Enjoy nature and relax he would say, only laughing when you would call him an old man.
Just as you start a new chapter in your book, Simon’s hand begins to wander. Your lips twitch as you fight smiling, watching his fingers slip beneath the leg of your lounge shorts. The feeling of his callused skin brushing against the hem of your panties already has you clenching around nothing.
“Look so pretty like this,” he coos in your ear, hand coming from between your legs to wrap around your throat.
You smile against his lips, “I haven’t even gotten dressed yet today.”
“I know,” he breathes, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, simple kiss before pulling back to add, “You’re pretty without even havin’ to try, lovie.”
“You’re just trying to butter me up so I let you in my pants,” you tease, practically melting at the feeling of his thumb stroking the skin of your cheek.
“Don’t gotta butter you up for that, do I sweetheart?” he coos, “You’ll let me right between those thighs without even havin’ to ask.”
Your lashes flutter at his words, heart pounding in your ears because he’s right. Even right now, your panties have grown sticky. His thumb traces over your lips and you open your mouth to let the digit inside. The action makes him raise a brow.
“You want somethin’ down that little throat?'' he asks. You nod your head, not caring how desperate you look, “Even with our little audience over there?”
He watches your eyes widen, clearly startled out of the moment. Your gaze flicks past his face to see your two neighbors Soap and Gaz on their back porch, both nursing beers. They look away when your gaze falls on them but it’s clear they’ve been watching the whole interaction with your fiance.
“Don’t care,” you find yourself muttering, eyes falling back onto your fiance.
“That’s what I thought,” he huffs, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours, “Knew you were filthy, don’t mind if anyone watches you as long as your pretty cunt gets to cum, yeah?”
You feel breathless as you nod your head. Simon brings his index and middle fingers to your lips that you eagerly open up for him.
“Good,” he praises, slowly slipping the fingers into your mouth, careful not to gag you on them until you’re ready.
Your lips seal around the digits, rolling your tongue over the salty skin until they’re covered in spit. Then he slowly starts sliding them deeper into your mouth until the tips are buried in your throat.
“Relax, just like that, good,” he praises, cock leaking against his thigh at the sight of your eyes filling with tears. He pulls his fingers back carefully just to stuff them back in, biting back a groan when you choke around them.
Simon casts a glance over his shoulder to see the two neighbors you were giving the show to watching with wide, unblinking eyes. Neither could take their eyes off of you as you eagerly let your fiance fuck your throat with his fingers.
He could see Soap had his hand on his crotch, no doubt gripping his hard cock. Kyle at least had enough pride to not touch himself to the sight of you.
You reach up to grab Simon’s wrist, signaling for him to pull his fingers out of your mouth. When he did, a string of thick drool connected your lips to the tips. The sight made his cock throb painfully, desperate for some kind of friction.
“I want you, Si,” you whimper, reaching down to cup his hardened cock through his pants.
“Is that right?” he asks, raising a brow, “Is that pretty little pussy wet?”
You nod your head, “Want your tongue, Si.”
He licks his lips, chasing the fantasy taste of you before glancing back over to the neighbors who now don’t even bother hiding the fact they’re watching the two of you.
“Want me to eat you out right here?” he asks, subtly gesturing his head to next door.
“Don’t care about them,” you whine, a cute little frown on your face that he just couldn’t say no to.
Before you knew it, Simon was on his knees, tugging your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. You eagerly spread your legs, locking your arms around your knees to let Simon have as much room as he needed.
“Look at you,” he coos, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, exposing your drooling entrance and swollen clit.
The little bud twitched under his heated gaze, hole dribbling out more thick juices that made his mouth water. He can’t resist the call anymore, leaning forward to slide the flat of his tongue over the length of your cunt, ending with a flick against your clit that made your whole body twitch.
“Thaaaaat’s it, pretty,” he coos, muffled from the way he refuses to part from your cunt, “Let us hear you.”
Your mouth falls open as he starts eagerly tonguing your pussy, swirling the muscle inside your hole before coming up to wrap his lips around your clit. He eats messy, not caring for all the drool and cum that covers his face or drips down to the floor below.
He uses his thumbs to keep your folds spread so he can focus on your clit. His tongue swirls around and around, lathering the poor little bud in a heavy film of his spit before he’s wrapping his lips around it again and sucking.
The feeling makes your back arch and you can’t help the loud moan that tears from your throat. Your nails dig into the soft meat of your thigh, the only thing you can grab from the position you’ve chosen for yourself.
Simon’s eyes are closed and there’s a crease between his brows of concentration. Neither of you even remembers the fact you’re outside and have an audience of two just next door. All you can think about is how good your fiance’s tongue feels worshiping your clit.
“Si!” you squeal when he reaches up to tug the hood of your clit back, exposing the little bud for him to tongue at. It’s so sensitive that it aches but it feels too good to stop him, only able to lay back and twitch as you take it.
He groans in response to you calling his name, cock leaking down his thigh so much that his sweats are sticking to him. Your slick drips off of his chin and he can think of nothing but how good you smell and taste – a 5 star meal all laid out just for him.
“Oh, I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, “You’re gonna make me cum, Si!”
He can’t even bring himself to pull his mouth off of you to encourage you like he usually does. Instead, he doubles his efforts, slurping and sucking at your clit. His jaw is aching but it’s barely a blip on his radar as he feels the tender little bud throb beneath his tongue.
Your orgasm washes over you quickly and hard. Your eyes roll back in your head as your jaw falls open, a symphony of pleasured cries flit through the air. Your fiance eagerly works you through the orgasm he so easily gave you, tongue swirling and circling your clit until your thighs clamp shut and you push him away, still trembling and shaking from the aftershocks.
He pulls back, chest heaving as he finally takes the first deep breaths he’s gotten since he started.
“Good?” he asks, licking his lips to clean your cum off of them.
You nod, breathless, “Take me inside and fuck me, please Si.”
He’s on his feet in seconds, scooping you up bridal style before hurrying back inside, forgetting all about the book you left behind – and the audience still on the porch next door.
You learn that Simon seems to really enjoy torturing your two neighbors when just a few nights later, he corners you in the bedroom.
“Our neighbor’s a nosy little bastard,” he coos into your ear.
You cast a glance over to the window where you can see Soap is lingering in front of his window, acting like he wasn’t watching and waiting to see what would happen next.
“He’s waitin’ so patiently,” Simon says, “It’s only polite of us to give him somethin’ to look at.”
“Glad to see you’re finally being neighborly,” you tease, a cheeky grin growing on your face.
Simon’s fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, sliding it up and up until you lift your arms and let him tug it over your head. Your bare breasts bounce free and Simon sucks in a breath at the sight.
“Fuck,” he coos, large hands cupping them, “Can’t believe I get to marry you some day.”
“We still need to pick a date,” you mutter, voice cracking when he wraps his lips around one perked nipple.
He groans against your chest, “I’d marry you right fuckin’ now if you’d let me.”
You whimper, hands carding through his messy hair before he abruptly pulls away. He grips your shoulders and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest and you’re facing the window – and Soap, who still stands there stunned.
Kyle pops in from the left, mouth dropping open at the sight of your tits on full display for them to ogle. Simon stares over your shoulder, watching their reactions as he gropes your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.
You can’t stop the soft whimpers and gasps that fall from your lips as he plays with your nipples. Your thighs clench together, a weak attempt to quell the ache that settles in your cunt. You never thought you’d enjoy being watched like this – it felt so dirty and wrong but that’s exactly what turned you on. The fact your neighbors wanted you so badly that they would just watch you get touched like this.
“You wanna give ‘em a show?” he asks, voice dark and deep in your ear, “Somethin’ they’ll be fistin’ their cocks to later?”
“Yes, anything, Si,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his wrists as he squeezes your breasts, “I’ll do anything you want.”
“Then get on your knees,” he orders, letting your chest go so you can drop to your knees in front of him, “There you go. Just where you belong.”
He unbuckles his belt and pulls his zipper down, reaching inside his boxers to pull his half-hard cock out. You watch with wide eyes as he slowly strokes himself to full hardness.
A bead of precum oozes from the tip and it makes your mouth water. Before Simon even says anything, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his cock. A soft, sweet sound comes from his throat at the feeling of your hot, soft tongue sliding over the sensitive skin.
His hand comes down to cradle your jaw, lidded gaze watching how you start to take him deeper.
When he feels his cock pop into your throat, it feels like the air gets punched out of his lungs. His touch moves from your jaw to your throat, feeling the way it bulges the deeper you take his length down.
He glances out the window to find Kyle has joined watching with rapt attention at how you swallow his cock. The sight of it makes him pulse in your throat and you whimper at the salty taste of his pre-cum on your tongue.
When you’ve swallowed all of him that you can take, you bring up a hand to stroke him to the same rhythm that you bob your head. Simon tosses his head back, brown eyes rolling into his skull at the sloppy sounds of you choking and drooling all over him.
He feels your spit dribble down his balls and over your chin to his hand. It’s everything – it’s messy and sloppy. He can’t even bring himself to look at you, too scared he’ll blow his load right down your tight little throat before he can even fully enjoy it to the fullest.
“Fuck,” he groans, the sound going straight to your cunt. You can’t help but slip your hand down your panties, finding your cunt slippery and wet. Your fingers circle your clit as you gag around your fiance’s thick cock.
“That’s it, lovie,” he huffs, “Touch that pretty cunt for me.”
Your lashes flutter at his words, rocking your hips against your own touch. Simon’s hand rests on the top of your head, slowly starting to rock his own hips, heavy balls slapping against your chin with the movement. You halt stroking him with your hand and brace yourself against his thigh, giving him permission to fuck your face as he wants.
“There you go,” he grunts, teeth gritted, “Cum on those fingers for me and I’ll cum down your throat, yeah? Think you can do that?”
You nod your head, doubling your efforts between your legs. The mess of drool that Simon fucks out of your mouth froths and drips everywhere, the entire endeavor growing messier and messier with each thrust he makes.
Simon watches the way your eyes roll back in your head, thighs twitching and spasming around your hand. He can feel the muffled vibrations as you whine against the cock filling your mouth.
With a final, deep groan, Simon’s balls draw up and his brows furrow before he’s spilling right down your throat – as deep as he can. You eagerly swallow around him, taking down every single drop he has to offer.
When he’s finally done, cock still twitching in sensitivity as he slowly softens, he pulls out. His cock was a mess, drool and cum still clinging to the skin in sticky strings.
“Fuck,” he laughs breathlessly, “That little throat is dangerous.”
You giggle, biting your lip as he moves towards the window, sending a last look to your neighbors before drawing the curtains closed. End of the show, it seems.
You never thought about how you would feel when you’d have to face your two neighbors again. Given the fact they were actively in the military, you could go days before you caught sight of one of them again. Ever since Simon had started this little game of teasing the poor guys you hadn’t actually spoken to them face to face.
“I invited Soap and Kyle over for dinner,” Simon muttered one late afternoon as he sipped on a cup of tea.
You nearly dropped the knife you were using to chop vegetables as you turned to look at your fiance in shock, “You what?!”
“Saw them while I was out on my mornin’ run,” he explained, taking a sip from his cup that was all too nonchalant for the utter anxiety that you felt, “Thought I’d be neighborly and invite them for dinner since we haven’t yet.”
“Simon!” you cry out indignantly, “How am I supposed to face them!?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, hiding his smile behind the cup.
“Th-They’ve watched us do all sorts of shit!” you whine, turning back around to anxiously cut the vegetables once again.
“So?” he hums, “We’re all adults. You think they can’t act normal just ‘cause they’ve seen you with a cock down your throat?”
You let out a frustrated sound, “You’re so-!”
“Relax, sweetheart,” he croons, placing his empty cup down, “It’ll be okay, I promise.”
You should have known better than to believe him. Simon seemingly couldn’t resist teasing the two men. As soon as all four of you were sitting at the table, you knew right away that this was not going to be the peaceful dinner you were hoping for.
Kyle and Soap were painfully quiet, trying their best to keep their eyes off of you in fear of making your fiance angry. Simon was keenly aware of this and before any of you had a chance to finish your meals, he was pushing his chair back and pulling you from your own seat, your back pressed against his front.
“I think we all know what we want,” he sighs, “So why don’t we cut the shit and get on with it.”
Rough, experienced fingers slowly start undoing the buttons on your shirt. You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead.
One by one the buttons came undone, your fiance giving you ample opportunity to stop him and back out should you decide this wasn’t something you wanted to do. But you never did.
Your breathing fastened and your heart raced in your chest at the excitement of the whole situation. Soap and Kyle sat in their seats, wide eyes following each methodical movement of your fiance until the final button was undone and they were able to see your bra.
Kyle licked his lips at the sight of your breasts wrapped in the sheet material, giving just a hint at what was beneath.
Soap follows Simon’s hand as it slides down your front to the button on your jeans. The button comes undone followed by your zipper, giving a little peak of the maroon colored panties you wore.
“What do you think?” Simon asks them, nosing softly at your cheek until you let your head fall to the side, exposing your neck for him to kiss.
“A fuckin’ dream,” Soap whispers, sounding like he’s in a daze.
Kyle audibly gulps, too lost in a daze to say anything as his eyes practically burn holes into you.
After pressing a kiss against your jaw, Simon finally slides the shirt off of your shoulders. The fabric flutters to the ground but you don’t have time to think about it before the clasp of your bra is undone and your bra joins it.
Both men at the table inhale sharply at the sight of your bare breasts.
“Prettier up close…” Kyle mutters, resting his chin on his hand, simply admiring the view before him.
Simon takes a second to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands before his thumbs hook under the band of your pants and tugs them down. You shimmy in place, helping him tug them over your hips until they pool on the ground and you can step out of them completely.
“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap whispers, leaning even closer from where he sits, trying to get an even better view of you standing in just a pair of pretty, sheer maroon colored panties.
“Aren’t they so lucky?” Simon coos in your ear, one hand slipping between your thighs to cup your clothed pussy while the other eagerly gropes your tits, “Gettin’ to see you like this when only I should get to.”
“Si…” you whimper, gripping his arm in your hands as he carefully strokes you through your panties.
“What do you say, men?” Simon asks sharply, glaring at your two guests.
“Thank you, sir,” both of them say in unison without taking their eyes off of you.
Simon hums, seemingly satisfied enough to slip your panties down so you’re completely bared – the only one naked in the room. It made your cheeks burn in humiliation but that humiliation only made your wetter.
Simon’s fingers slid between your folds, a sticky noise accompanying the movement. You hear him suck in a breath when he feels your slick coating his fingers. You lift your leg and place it on the nearby chair, giving both men at the table a perfect view of your pretty cunt being spread by your fiance’s fingers.
“There you go, lovie,” he coos, “Show them how wet you get for me.”
He slips his middle finger inside, letting it slowly sink in the final knuckle. Your lashes flutter at the feeling of being stretched but it’s not enough – one finger would never be enough when you’ve had his perfect cock inside you so many times before. So Simon quickly slides his ring finger in right alongside his middle and your head falls back against his shoulder.
You practically forget about the two pairs of eyes on you when he crooks his fingers just right and grinds the tips against that gooey little spot that makes your thighs tremble.
“Si!” you squeal, nails biting into his wrist as you grind your hips, humping your hardened clit against his palm.
“Yeah?” he responds, tucking you firmly against him so he can fuck you properly with his fingers.
You’re unable to stop the cries and sobs of pleasure as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm with every press of his fingers against your sweet spot and every slap of his palm against your clit. Drool drips down your chin as your whole body twitches, eyes rolling back in your head as the orgasm builds and builds.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Kyle breathes, a trembling hand placed over his mouth in awe.
Finally, your high washes over you and you slump forward, held up only by Simon’s strong arm grappled around you. Your knees tremble as Simon’s fingers continue to fuck you through it until you’re gushing in messy spurts all over his hand every time his fingers are stuffed back inside. It splatters to the floor and drips down your thighs, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.
Simon pulls his fingers out of the hot clutch of your cunt with a humiliatingly loud squelch before he pops the digits right into his mouth, humming at the taste of your cum on his tongue.
He lifts your chin up and immediately plants his lips right on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You sigh into the kiss, cum-drunk brain getting lost in the familiar affection. You don’t even notice Simon undoing his jeans until you feel the hot, blunt head of his cock prodding your entrance. You whimper into his mouth when he simply ruts his hips, sliding the head back and forth, over your clit and back down – coating himself in the cum he had already fucked out of you with his fingers.
“How are you boys enjoyin’ the show?” Simon asks, suddenly reminding you of their presence.
You dazedly look at them, finding both of them sitting back in their chairs, stroking their cocks in the open. Soap’s got a thick, veiny cock that looks like it would make you cry if you tried to take it down your throat. Kyle, on the other hand, has a long, pretty cock adorned with a piercing on the tip that makes your cunt clench around nothing just imagining what it would feel like. Maybe you should ask Simon to get a piercing just to see.
“Fuckin’ incredible, sir,” Soap chokes out, squeezing his cock tight in his fist.
Simon chuckles under his breath before his attention turns back to you, a well-practiced rut of his hips sinks the head of his cock into your warm, sticky cunt. Your mouth drops open at the feeling, eyes accidentally locking onto Kyle’s, who is watching you with a dark, focused gaze.
You find yourself unable to break eye contact as your fiance slowly and carefully stretches you open on his cock until he finally sinks to the hilt, full balls sleeping against your clit. Your eyes roll back and you bite your lip to suppress the absolutely sinful sound that threatens to escape your lips.
Simon groans at the feeling of being clutched so tightly by your precious cunt. Your hand comes down to circle your clit with desperate, shaky movements until you’re suddenly cumming around his cock.
“Shit!” Simon practically howls, blunt nails biting into your skin as he holds your twitching body against his through the sudden orgasm you’ve given yourself, “Cummin’ just from gettin’ my cock in you? So sweet, lovie.”
You whimper his name in a little hiccup, tearily looking up at him from where your head thumps back against his shoulder. The pathetic look in your eye is what prompts him to start moving – fat cock sliding out of you before a powerful roll of his hips ends it back deep. He prods your cervix in a way that makes pain mix deliciously with pleasure – an addictive feeling that only Simon could ever give you.
His harsh thrusts jostle your entire body, your tits bouncing in time to the movement. You’re not able to keep quiet, every time he sinks deep, it punches a moan out from your lungs. His heavy, fat balls slap against you, only adding to the lewd sounds of squelching and moaning.
Soap and Kyle continue to stroke their own cocks to the sight of your getting fucked. Leaking cocks squelching quietly in their own grips.
“Shit…” Soap groans through his teeth, “Wish I could wrap my lips around that pretty clit, darlin’.”
You whimper, eyes rolling back at the very thought of having a tongue worshiping your neglected clit. With Simon’s cock stuffing you full, you know it would work the most magnificent orgasms out of you.
As if sensing your greedy thoughts, Simon wraps a rough hand around your throat, forcing you to look up at him, “Felt that little cunt squeeze me when he said that. My cock not enough for you?”
“Y-You are!” you sob, tears filling your eyes from how he starts an even rougher pace, “J-Just wanna cum, Si!”
Your fiance scoffs at your words, harshly knocking your leg off of the chair that you had it propped up in. You cry out at how the angle changes with his hand still wrapped around your throat, forcing you to arch your back to look up at him. His cock grinds incessantly against that gooey little spot that makes your entire body twitch every time he pounds against it.
It’s even more difficult to keep yourself upright without the chair to help, both your knees are shaky and if Simon wasn’t holding you tight against his chest by your throat, you’d certainly be slumping to the floor.
Simon’s hand tightens around your neck and it cuts off the noises that are escaping. Your vision fuzzes up as your orgasm builds and builds.
“Si, Si, Si–” you choke out, drool dripping down your chin, “Please, I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum!”
“Course I am,” Simon snarls, letting his free hand drop to your clit, harshly slapping the little bud before rubbing soothing circles around it.
That sends you over the edge, gushing all over him and down your thighs. You squeal, unable to do anything except hang on for the ride as Simon fucks you through your high until he reaches his own end – spilling his load inside you without a second thought.
You’re left trembling and twitching, gasping and whimpering with tears dripping down your cheeks. Finally, Simon allows you to slump forward, your chest meeting the kitchen table as he pulls his softening cock from your dripping cunt. Sticky, thick strings of his cum connect to his length from your clenching pussy. He soothes his hand down the length of your spine, soothing the little trembles that still wrack your body as you come down.
“Holy fuckin’ shit,” Soap pants, wiping his cum-covered hand off on his pants.
“You,” Kyle adds, “are one hell of a neighbor.”
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#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#soap mactavish smut#soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish smut#john soap mactavish smut#john soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#soap smut#soap x reader#ghost smut#ghost x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick smut#gaz x reader#gaz smut#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz smut#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick smut#cod smut#cod x reader
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I N A P P R O P I A T E
𐬺𐬽𐬾❤︎︎𐬾𐬽𐬺
IN which Captain Price is your father, and your eyes are set on his lieutenant.
OR: you're down bad for Ghost, and your father isn't too keen on that.
MINORS Do NOT Interact.
Warnings: age gap, fem! reader, ooc, canon divergent tbh, little to no british slang bc i barely know american LOL. written from my phone please bear with me. also, do not get groomed, this is just fiction. WC: 1501
English is my second language, very self indulgent.
"m'gonna marry him, daddy!" Captain Price used to laugh about that, when your eight-year-old self would cling onto his arm while pointing at the twenty-one-year-old man who had just been recruited. it used to be an inside joke between the unit task, your father was oh so confident that you'd get over your childhood crush.
oh boy was he wrong.
every time without fail, when the squad would gather at your home during their leave, you'd take peeks to the living room, kitchen, or wherever they settled to talk. this ritual continued well into your pre-teenage years, right before you turned moody and too shy to even come out of your room. that's when Price thought it was over, what he didn't expect however was how you'd be so damn adamant on having Simon come over almost daily as soon as you turned eighteen. he was a seasoned captain, he wasn't oblivious to the way you'd eye his lieutenant, how you'd give him the coldest beer when it used to be reserved for him, the way you'd come every now and then and sit right across from The Ghost to "join in the conversation and catch up." nothing escaped his sharp eye, not even the way Ghost would sometimes stare your way for a little too long.
"he's emotionally unavailable, princess." he'd tell you, dropping you off for orientation day at your dream university. "he's a good lad, but he's got his own demons to fight." and he'd sigh as you slammed the car door on him. he could never deny your wishes, though, as he created a woman who was too determined—too set on her track who did not know the word defeat. but you were also just a kid—or at least that's the mental image of you in his head, a little girl with innocent thoughts who simply found his comrade to be cute.
"yer young and beautiful, m'sure those college boys are dying for ye." your father would tell you, almost begging for you to enjoy these years and experiment.
"but i don't want a boy." you would roll your eyes, having started your second year of university certainly made you into a character. you were confident—rightfully so, your beauty outshined anyone else. "i want Simon." you'd repeat like a broken record, and if it didn't make him want to strangle his lieutenant. how has time truly passed, he remembered when you'd call Simon by the name of Ghost, the name everyone used instead of his given name. but you weren't a part of the task force, there wasn't really a reason for you to call him Ghost for reason other than his signature balaclava and stitched-in mask.
you soon turned twenty, you were not a little girl anymore. his team had joined later in the evening to celebrate you, bringing you gifts and sneaked in alcohol for later when your friends would leave. it wasn't until Simon's arrival that you suddenly disappeared, but Price isn't a fool. he clutched the now empty can of beer, stopping immediately as he felt Gaz's reassuring touch on his shoulder. you were not a little girl anymore, you were a woman. he repeated in his head, no longer glancing over at the backyard door as he focused on the conversation between his comrades.
𐬺𐬽𐬾❤︎︎𐬾𐬽𐬺
"thank you, Simon." you smiled as he helped you put the piece of jewelry around your neck. a beautiful necklace of the metal of your liking—the one you always used when you dressed up so pretty, so dolled up. he looked at your face, his mouth in a straight line yet his eyes full of unspoken softness for you. he hummed in response, his gaze falling back down to your neck, where the necklace laid so neatly right under your collarbone, before it touched your cleavage. Simon tore his gaze away, he refused to look at you that way—not to his captain's daughter.
your smile faded as you noticed his lack of eye contact, your hand grazing his calloused one with gentleness. his eyes landed on yours once more, one hand moving the stray hair out of your face as he admired you, how you had grown to be a gorgeous woman. "we can't, love, m'way too old for ye." is what he said to you—to himself, to stop the pounding of his heart and the ache of having you so close to him. you shook your head in rebuttal, the frown of your brows making you more enticing to the man who towered over you with ease. you were determined, and he liked that about you—among the many other things that piqued his interest.
"don't care, Simon, i said i'd marry you." too determined, maybe. he scoffed at your words yet couldn't help it as the ghost of a smile appeared on his usually stoic face. "and i don't care about what old man has to say about it, i'm an adult for christ's sake." you held onto his hand, the one that laid so gently on the curve of your neck, feeling your pulse on his rough fingers. your eyes roamed from his eyes to his cheekbones, the scars on his face that added to his charm, and his slightly chapped lips that seemed to beg to close the gap between you. Simon noticed your lingering eyes, and he cursed under his breath as his fingers squeezed your neck softly.
"eyes up 'ere, love." his voice took you out of trance, eyes quickly darting back up to his as you felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment at being caught. you smiled in response, your own eyes getting lost on his gaze. a deep shade of chestnut, one that conveyed a turmoil of emotions. surely, he couldn't just court his captain's daughter, it's just wrong. no matter what her sweet eyes silently pleaded for, he couldn't just give in—hell, temptation is too strong. rough digits let go of your neck, reaching down to your waist so tenderly that anyone who looked your way would know.
you couldn't help it, not when he always tried to make you happy, to give you everything you deserved, for treating you the way he just did. with a pull of his jacket, your lips clashed passionately, desperately, as if you were to disappear, like a prayer that had been heard, you clung to him with your arms around his shoulders as he held you impossibly close. you sighed between the kiss, pulling at his bottom lip playfully before you returned to the steamy friction of your lips. a want, one Simon hadn't realized how much he needed, how much he craved. you were a woman, one so, so perfect. "so gorgeous," he hummed lowly against you, letting go of reddened, puffy lips. his words sent a shiver down your spine, relishing on his words, the ones that were only for you, always you.
Simon has never been rough with you– he couldn't even imagine being so, not when you're holding onto him like a lifeline, like he's everything you've ever wanted. he doesn't complain when you bring him up to your face again, breaths mixing in the silence of the yard, so silent you have both forgotten of the people inside your home. "Simon," you gasp in a plead, a withheld plea as the backdoor opened. he pulled away from you in an instant, his hand still on your waist protectively.
"everything alright?" Price asked, and you could hear Simon curse under his breath. you just knew your father did it on purpose, he had that mischievous look on his face you had inherited, one you both used when you planned something. his eyes bore on the point of contact between you and his lieutenant, and Simon found himself forced to let go of you with a grumble. Price's eyes fell on the pendant hanging off your neck, letting out a sigh as he closed the door behind him and walked up to you.
"gorgeous pendant, hun." his eyes found their way to his lieutenant on your side, a look on his face that was no longer a warning– but rather a petition (demand, more like) to keep his treasure safe. do not break her heart. you could almost hear his thoughts, shifting under his gaze as you observed the interaction. Simon gave a curt nod, a wordless promise of affection and protection. "you should hurry, s'getting cold." Price said after a moment, giving you a smile before walking back inside.
Simon found your smile endearing, the way it reached your eyes and made your face bright. his hand returned to your side, giving a playful squeeze before making its way to the small of your back once more. "let's go inside, yeah?" he murmured against your ear, and you couldn't help but think of how neatly wrapped you had him around your finger, always getting what you want.
an unforgettable birthday.
𐬺𐬽𐬾❤︎︎𐬾𐬽𐬺
made an entire account just to write this. i will be doing more, trust.
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#ghost cod#simon riley x you#cod x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley#burytheimagine
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implied poly!141 x fem!reader
pure fluff, abrupt ending
They were smitten the first time they saw you, some new civvie working in the admin building. Price saw you first and was taken in by your open, friendly smile. You were sweet every time he had to come in, always saying hello and asking how his day was. He couldn't help but talk about you to his boys.
Gaz was next, finding reasons to drop by with a question for your boss or "remembering" paperwork he had already brought to someone else. He always seemed to pop in when your boss was out, though, so he had to talk to you about it instead.
Soap noticed how often Gaz was slipping off to your building. He knew Price was smitten; the man had all but admitted as much. But it seemed Gaz wanted to keep his interest in you a secret. Soap never could let a secret go, so he followed Gaz, found him flirting with you, watched you give him soft touches and shy smiles. He couldn't remember the last time Gaz had lost his sharp edges.
He told Ghost what he saw, and the two began watching you.
They saw how you always dropped by medical on Wednesdays with a bakery box in hand. They learned Tuesdays - the first full day of training rookies had - was always busier for medical, so you brought them a pick-me-up after a hard day. They watched you stop and chat with every invisible employee: groundskeepers, maintenance, custodial staff. You made it a point to acknowledge those who were often overlooked. Soap and Ghost didn't interact with you personally, but they fell for your kind heart nonetheless.
It slowly became clear that there were others as enamoured with you as they all were. Flowers on your desk they knew Price didn't send. Lunch delivered when you'd clearly brought your own. A few other officers who stood a little too close and for whom your smile was tight rather than inviting.
They tell all this to Price and Gaz who bring it up with you in their own way.
Gaz asks about the bouquet behind your desk. You tell him they were a gift, and when your tone seems strained, he presses for more, finds out they came from an officer who didn't believe you meant no. Price stops in after a lunch delivery and jokes about you having two meals. Turns out you're allergic to what was delivered (someone obviously did not do their homework), but it was a favorite of the same soldier who sent the flowers.
This man was making their bird uncomfortable, and they wouldn't stand for it.
Slowly, things take a turn for this poor sod whose main flaw was an overbearing interest in you. His reports come back flagged for missing information, and he gets reamed out by his superior. (Gaz hacked the system and deleted things. Don't worry, he fixed it later, after the damage was done.) His flowers get delivered to married women, which raises an HR concern. (Ghost offered the florist double the cost of each bouquet to send them to a list of other people. He told them you didn't want people jealous of your relationship with the soldier and to spread the joy.) He finds himself called to the head of medical about the legal issue of accidental poisoning. (Price dropped by with your ill-delivered lunch to chat with the head and accidentally let it slip how this delicious food was sent to a civilian employee deathly allergic to some of the ingredients.)
The boys could have gotten dirty and taken matters into their own hands, but they wanted to be able to keep themselves clear of the fallout. To be there for you in the aftermath.
It took about two weeks, but eventually the officer was demoted and transferred. Word gets around the other soldiers how the 141 was protecting its own. They staked their claim on you before you ever realized it.
Two days after the incident, Price shows up with a vase of your favorite flowers (courtesy of Soap's intel). Later that day, Gaz invites you to your favorite restaurant (thanks to Ghost's observations) for dinner, "no strings, doll, just a nice meal." You show up in a cute but classy dress to find the whole task force - including Soap and Ghost whom you've never even met before - seated and waiting on you.
They'd decided to let you know where things stood before some other idiot tried taking what was theirs.
Inspired by the "To the pain" scene at the end of The Princess Bride: "That is what to the pain means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever."
#cod#poly!141#poly!141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#john price#simon riley#kyle garrick#johnny mactavish#nerdygirl says
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warning: Sex pollen :), noncon/dubcon, some of them are mean on this one, horny desperate men going insane for your hole, not proofread 😭
Jus' over here havin thoughts about sex pollen infecting your favorite boy man
Finding yourself in the middle of a botched mission, you desperately try to open the door that separates you from your lover. You can hear him hacking, n coughing on the other side. N'd your sweet soul's nearly crying at the thought of what's happening to him. Is he dying !? Pink gas escapes from under the door and you don't even have the time to react before it suddenly opens.
Captain John Price who tries keep some of his composure. You must commend him for it, really. But you turn around to see if the coast's still clear and that's all it takes for his composure to break. Before you knew it you're being lifted into the air. Back pressed tightly against your Captain's chest while he holds you up with the back if your knees. He's got you in a full nelson :( And all of a sudden there's a knife in his hands. You cry out at the thought of what he could do to you but you're silenced the moment he uses it to rip an opening through your trousers, all the while he's rutting against your ass, cause he's just so pent up. Oh, you have to understand!
His dick is inside of you the moment it's freed. Tries to be considerate about it, gives you a few seconds to adjust before he's drilling into you with wild abandon. Fucks you so deep, there's a bulge in your tummy and spots in your vision. Sinks to the floor with you the moment he cums, holding you close to his chest and trying to come up with a decent enough explanation.
Simon "Ghost" Riley who let's out a loud grunt before falling on top of you. The impact makes your head spin, and it momentarily knocks the wind out of your lungs. His body crushes yours beneath the concrete floor and you don't have time to recover before the feeling of phantom hands start to roam your body. And you can no longer blame it on your fall, because your trousers are being ripped away by rough gloved hands.
Poor, little, you can't even object when he wrestles you into a mating press :( Shoving two of his thick digits inside of you with no warning. He's moving them in a scissoring motion, and you cant help but cry at the dry, and painful insertion. He's so mean!
"Shhh, puppy... 'I need this..." Doesn't even say please! Doesn't even give you a warning before the mushroom tip of his cock is breaching past your entrance. It's definitely way thicker than his fingers, and a lot more harder to get used to. He uses your bunched up knees as leverage to fuck you deeper, n deeper till your pretty eyes roll to the back of your skull.
He sounds like an animal when he cums. Growling pure filth to your ear while he grinds his dick inside you. Ready for a round 2?
Johnny "Soap" Mactavish who doesn't even wait. He was already hard as a fucking rock, hearing your cute voice cry out for him on the other side of the door. But now that it's opened, the only thing in his mind is dicking you down till your addicted to his cock.
Very impatient. You're literally like a ragdoll to him and he jus' manhandles you so you're face down, ass up :(
Shoves his fingers in your mouth while pulling your trousers down. He eats you out like a man starved. Like this was going to be his first, and last meal. Not a moment later and he's bullying your hole with his fat cock. Babbling nonsense about how fucking tight you are and how he's "waited to do this for so long". But he cums, and he cums deep.
The definition of painting your insides white.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick who looks like he's in so much pain. Unlike the other boys he tells you not to get close. He's not right in the head, can't you see that?? But you're sweet. Too sweet, and he wonders if you taste just the same. He's wetting his lips before knows it. He feels terrible. Eye fucking you while you're just trying to get him to talk about what's happening. Is he ok? He's not dying, is he? Tell me where it hurts, please.
You fret over him, and he's never felt such embarrassment in his life before. He feels bad, looking down at the massive tent in his pants. But he feels worse when he's pushing you against the wall. He's tried to hold back. Really, he did. But there's just so much a man like him can take in a situation like this. And he's trying to whisper apologies to you while he hasn't fully lost himself.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, just please....Fffuck–let me fuck you. Please..."
He's so desperate n'd whiney. As if he's not making your thighs shake and your brain into goo. He's fucking your mouth with his tongue, sturdy hands grabbing hold of your legs and wrapping them around his firm waist.
It's all too much. You're brain moving slower than your mouth can say "slow down". In a second he's got your trousers to the side, and his pants bunched up on his knees. He's shaking so much you're worried he might topple over. But he doesn't. Instead he slams his hips directly into yours. Your mouth opening in a silent scream.
He cums the moment he gets his dick in you. He's just so sensitive, ok :( And he doesn't stop at just one round, not even two. Three and his cum's leaking out of you, staining the floor and both of your thighs. Still moving his hips like a man possessed. Four, you're nearly passed out. And there's a slight bump in your stomach from where you're sure his cock, and cum is.
Head lying limp on your shoulder, you wonder how many times you've cummed already, or if this was even going to end. He smiles at you, so brightly he looks like your Kyle again. But he's kissing the side of your mouth before biting at your lips.
"Jus one more. Jus' one more, I promise..."
a/n: I literally don't know what bought this on. Are the parts where I lost motivation obvious? Yes? Ok. Fuck Some characters parts are longer than others I'm so sorry 😭 This has been rotting in my drafts for about 2 days. Hope you enjoy this more than I do 😞. Eat up, my loves!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
#cod x reader#cod imagine#call of duty x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x reader smut#captain price x you#john price x reader#captain price x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#soap x reader#soap x reader smut#captain price smut#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#gaz x reader smut#x gn reader#x female reader#x male reader
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Price had a young girlfriend and did not tell anybody until he decided to get married...
He probably didn't tell them until the night before the wedding…He asked them to come over for a little celebration and everyone expected a middle-aged woman. But when they saw a girl in her mid-20s opening the door with Price they were shocked
Soap probably even asked if she's his stepdaughter LOL
Hey, love!! 💗💗
I wrote you a little something...
I hope you like it 💗
❤️Mr. & Mrs. Price❤️
Fluff | Sugestive | 1547 words | Back to Masterlist
They were having a pint at a pub close to base when he told them.
“I'm getting married next Saturday, you have the weekend free, so drop by so I can introduce you to the missus.”
Now, Ghost wasn't surprised he didn't know about his captain having a girlfriend, let alone a relationship serious enough to talk about marriage. What surprised Ghost was that neither Soap nor Gaz knew about it.
“Married?!” Gaz asked, loud enough to make some people turn their heads.
Price furrows his eyebrow, surprised by the reaction as if he had just told them about what he's having from breakfast.
“I didnae ken ye had a pretty bird waiting for ye at home, Captain!” Soap says, just as loud.
“Yeah, I have for a couple of years now.” Price simply answers, shrugging his shoulders as he takes a sip.
“A couple of years?!” The three men ask in unison like a bad comedic joke.
A chain of questions starts to unravel, curiosity for the mysterious woman pouring out; but Price waves his hand shutting them up. “No point in that, you are meeting her this weekend, easier that way”
They begrudgingly agree, keeping to themselves the mental image of the possible woman. She must be around Price's age, so between 40 and 50 years old; knowing how little the man likes to go out they probably met at work so she must be military too. Stern woman.
Price tells them that is something minor, the close family and a bunch of friends; that they can join at the reception at his house and to dress nicely.
“No ghost mask.” He chastises the man pointing at him. “I don't want work involved, alright?”
During the week until the wedding, they keep thinking about her, about how she must look like, her personality, her age, her eye colour.
“What do you think she'll look like?”
“In my mind, she's like Laswell… but being into men.”
And out of every possibility and different mental image, the last thing they expected was the pretty thing that opened the door for them on Saturday.
Pretty little thing, around 25 years old, with the kindest smile on her face even when looking at the three giants on her doorframe, flowy white dress, little hair strands framing her cute face with the rest of it gathered up in an intricate updo in the back hold together with shiny pins and a silky bow.
“Oh, you must be John's friends.” You say, voice sweet as an angel. “Please, come in, don't just stand there. I'm gonna go get him, be back in a second”
You step back, holding the door open for them, inviting them in and once inside you close the door, walking past them to reach their captain who is looking in the opposite direction, talking to somebody else.
“That must be the stepdaughter… right?” Soap asks what all of them are thinking.
They stare as you walk up to Price, placing your hand on his lower back making him turn to look at you; a wide smile appearing immediately. He leans forward, his arm moving behind your shoulder and his hand keeping your jaw in place as he kisses you.
Lips crashing against yours, closing his eyes and letting his tongue into your mouth tasting the champagne you were drinking just a moment ago. A passionate, sloppy kiss that would make a maiden blush at the impropriety of it even for the newlyweds.
“Mate, I sure fucking hope she's not.” Gaz answers after a moment.
The two of you finally pull back, telling Price about his friends arriving and he looks behind you to see them. He smiles, not as wide as when he looked at you, and gives you a quick peck before walking to the door.
“Welcome, lads. Thank you for coming.” He says simply, crossing his arms and looking proud. You appear from behind him, hand resting on his arm slightly leaning to his side.
“Do you want anything to drink? To eat?” You ask softly, love pouring out of Price's eyes as he looks down on you.
“I'll help you.” Ghost says, a curl of his lips you could identify as a smile if you wanted to. And once the captain is left with the sergeants, the attack starts.
“How does an old churl like you manages to get a pretty thing like her?”
“Where do you even meet a doll like her?”
“How many years have you exactly been dating for?”
Ghost clears his throat when he turns around the corner on his way back, with you chirping on his side about how happy you are to finally meet them. He has a more natural smile on his face now, clearly infected with your enthusiasm.
Price finally introduces you to them, exchanging everyone's name. You hug both the sergeants and shake Ghost's hand, the man glad that you made the observation of his lack of appreciation towards body contact.
After a little chat, you excuse yourself; promising to get back in a while wanting to talk to your own friends still waiting around the room. It leaves Price on his own and that's when he tells the nosy men how he met you.
You were his neighbour, sharing half the walls of the old flat he house to live in before moving in together. How he introduced himself to you one day when he saw you leaving your house, how he told you he was military so you wouldn't freak out if you saw him in the middle of the night or suddenly disappeared for months, how after a specially long deployment he got back and you dropped by hours later with a bunch of tupperwares with homemade food “I assumed you would be tired, it's nothing special but I'll save you the hustle of cooking”, about how he had wanted to marry you ever since, how he gave you the tupperwares back one by one so he had more reasons to talk to you, how he finally asked you out with the last one and how after that it all was easy between you two.
The four of them swiftly move to sit down on the kitchen table, Price still telling them everything about you and the relationship. Ghost is just as invested as the other two, trying to play it off as polite interest. Slowly and smoothly people leave the house as the day goes by, the sun having set a couple of hours ago; and you walk into the kitchen, sitting on Price's lap with a sigh.
“I know it isn't proper of a good host, but these shoes are killing me.” You announce looking at the three men as you bend down and take them off, a sigh of comfort leaving your mouth as you lean back on Price. “I'm also sure you have endurance worse than some stinky feet.” You joke with a tiny chuckle making them smile.
“Everyone gone, darling?” Price asks, his hands resting on your lap as you nod smiling. He looks up to the boys as he says. “Better to tidy up then”
“Jonathan Price, don't be rude!” You exclaim looking at him. “They are your friends and there are more than enough rooms for them if they want to spend the night. They have been drinking too!”
“Mrs. Price.” John says with a teasing tone, standing up and helping you stand. “Talk to me for a second, love.”
Price bends down to pick your shoes up, holding your hand to walk you to the living room. They hear the two of you whispering back and forth, then silence and lastly the unmistakable sound of kisses. They peak behind the door, managing to see you sitting in the backrest of the sofa with Price standing between your legs, grinding his hips against yours. You moan softly against his lips, before pulling back and whispering something they can't make out; Price pulls back as well and they sit back on their chairs.
Price walks in just a second later. “Lads… thank you for coming, I'll see you when I'm back from the honeymoon, now… OUT!” He barks the last word making Soap chuckle as they all finish their drink in a gulp and start to walk out of the house, congratulating Price on the marriage and walking out one by one; meanwhile, you remain completely out of sight for them.
“They gone?” You ask for the top of the stairs, looking at Price with a smile.
“Yep.” Price says locking the door.
“You didn't have to kick them out like that, though.” You say cocking your head with a smile.
“Oh, yes, I did.” He says, turning around to start to walk up the stairs.
“Why? Afraid they might join?” You say winking at him, making him laugh before he throws you over his shoulder making you shriek.
“Wouldn't you like that, you little minx!” He jokes, landing a smack on your asscheek.
You gasp dramatically holding onto his clothes. “It's Mrs. Price to you, young man.”
He chuckles, making your body shake, before he throws you down on the bed; him instantly crawling on top of you.
“Who's your husband, darling?”
“You, Mr. Price.”
A bit more of this
#Lovi writes 🩷#young price my beloved#call of duty#cod#captain john price x reader#captain price smut#captain price x reader#captain john price#captain price#john price#price x reader#cod x reader#price#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#call of duty x reader
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Thinking about how price would do his best to be professional and stoic all the time, because of the mission... until he comes undone one day with the 141's affectionate little teammate...
Pairings: Price x Reader | TF141 x Reader (if you squint) Short Vers: Cutesy. Comfort. Flirty reader takin care of an injured Price. Literally just wanted to do something cute. WC: ~1700 Oops my hand slipped. Warnings: Canon typical violence-ish: severe leg injury, mention of blood
Price was used to you doting on the team—flirty comments tossed like grenades to break tension, soft kisses planted on cheeks when you thought they needed it most. It had become routine, a part of how you all coped with the relentless grind of the job. The boys, of course, lapped it up.
Soap practically thrived on it, leaning into your affection like a cat demanding more. “Oh, c’mon, give us another,” he’d tease, tapping his cheek with an exaggerated pout until you obliged, laughing at his antics. “Knew you couldn’t resist me, lass,” he’d quip, grinning ear to ear, his cheek still tingling from your touch.
Gaz was subtler about it, but the half-laugh, half-blush that lit up his face whenever you kissed his temple was all the evidence anyone needed. “You spoil us too much,” he’d say, shaking his head, though the warmth in his eyes betrayed how much he appreciated it. He’d never ask outright, but you noticed how he conveniently ended up in your orbit on the harder days.
And there was Ghost—well, Ghost didn’t protest. Not much, anyway. He’d stiffen slightly the first time you planted a quick kiss on the edge of his mask, murmuring something soft and teasing. You’d almost expected him to recoil or bark out a gruff warning, but instead, he’d let out a low huff, half-exasperated, half-resigned. Over time, the stiffness faded, and while he never sought your attention, he also never shied away from it. If anything, you started to catch the faintest shift in his body language, a subtle leaning toward you in those quiet, fleeting moments.
But Price? He was different. He kept his distance, the line between Captain and teammate drawn so firmly it might as well have been carved into stone. It wasn’t that he didn’t notice your affection—oh, he noticed. He saw the way Soap brightened under your banter, the way Gaz carried himself a little lighter after one of your quick, casual pecks. And he saw the way your touch had a way of pulling Ghost out of whatever dark corners he sometimes disappeared into.
He noticed it all, but he made damn sure none of it ever landed on him. Not because he didn’t want it, no—that was the real problem. He wasn’t sure he’d survive it. The idea of your warmth, your care, directed at him, even for a second? That was a vulnerability he couldn’t afford, not as your Captain.
So, when you flirted with him—and you did—he kept his reactions drawn. A grumble of “Focus,” if you were getting particularly cheeky. A muttered “Bloody hell,” paired with an eye roll when you’d wink in his direction with a half-lewd quip at his expense. He deflected it like incoming fire, always quick to push the moment away before it had a chance to stick. Never a crack in that armor. Not once.
Until he came back hurt.
The mission had gone sideways in a way that none of you could’ve predicted. A clean extraction turned into a chaotic firefight, and when the dust finally settled, Price had made damn sure every single one of his team made it out alive. But it wasn’t without cost.
The explosion had been too close, the deafening roar of it still echoing in his mind like an endless drumbeat. The searing heat and shrapnel tore through his leg before he even had a chance to register the pain. All he knew in the moment was the desperate need to keep you all moving, to ensure you made it to the evac point. His body screamed louder than the orders from his mouth.
By the time they reached the chopper, Price could barely stand. Blood soaked through his tactical pants, pooling beneath him as Soap and Ghost half-dragged, half-carried him aboard. His face was pale and tight with pain, his gruff voice reduced to sharp, pained grunts as the medics worked to stabilize him mid-flight.
You had been silent, and the team's usual banter was replaced with a heavy tension as you watched your Captain struggle to bite back a groan as medics worked. Despite their efforts, he wasn't conscious for long after you assured him you were all aboard and headed home. Soap had tried to lighten the mood, cracking a joke about how “the old man finally took a hit,” but it fell flat.
...
Price spent the first few days back on base confined to the medbay, his leg immobilized in a brace, stitches holding together what could barely be called a clean wound. The painkillers dulled the physical ache, but they did little for the simmering frustration underneath. He hated being sidelined, hated seeing the team tiptoe around him when you all visited--and you all visited frequently.
When they finally cleared him to return to his quarters, it was with strict orders to rest and lean on crutches—not that he’d been given much choice. Every step was a battle. Price had always been the one they could lean on when things went to hell. Now, he couldn’t even make it to the door without bracing himself against the walls.
He tried to keep up appearances, but the cracks were showing. The little things betrayed him—his jaw tightening when the pain flared, the way his hand trembled just slightly when he gripped his crutch too hard. And he hated it. Hated being stuck in his quarters, hated the helplessness that clawed at him every time he had to ask for something.
What he hated most, though, was how much he craved the comfort you offered. The way you lingered longer than the others, always making sure he was settled before you left. The softness in your voice when you asked if he needed anything, the gentle brush of your fingers against his arm when you adjusted a pillow or passed him his crutch. You were flirty all the time, sure, but this? This was care, raw and concerned. It was too much and not enough all at once, a lifeline he didn’t know how to reach for without breaking apart entirely.
You didn’t leave him much room to protest your hovering. It started small—a cup of coffee placed on his desk before he even thought to ask, the exact way he liked it. Then came the meals, arriving like clockwork, despite his grumbled insistence that he wasn’t helpless. You ignored the way his eyebrows knitted in irritation when you lingered, adjusting pillows or tugging the throw blanket over his lap when he’d shifted just a little too much and winced for it.
It wasn’t just the tasks, though. It was the quiet way you stayed, your presence filling the space. You didn’t push him to talk, didn’t pry, but you were there. And as much as Price told himself he didn’t need the comfort, as many times as he'd sent you away and to quit your worrying, he’d started to look for it—catching himself glancing at the door, wondering when you’d come back, feeling the silence more acutely when you weren’t around.
...
It was after one of those moments, late in the evening when the base was quiet. The day had dragged on longer than usual, and the ache in his leg had worsened, grinding at his patience. He didn’t ask for help as you guided him to the couch in his quarters, but he didn’t push you away, either. You’d taken one of the crutches and leaned it against the wall, leaving him with no option but to let you take the lead.
“Sit back, Captain,” you said softly, adjusting the cushions behind him. The teasing lilt in your voice was still there, but it was subdued, quiet earnestness that had started to unnerve him. “Relax a little.”
He grunted in response, settling back with a wince as you straightened the blanket over his lap. You stepped back, looking him over like you were assessing his comfort, and he swore he saw something flicker in your expression—hesitation, maybe. Or something deeper.
“That everything, Cap?” you asked, your voice low, softer than usual. The teasing note was still there, but it was almost... careful.
He sighed, leaning his head back against the cushions, moving his toes on his propped-up leg, his weariness in his words. “Yeah. That’s everything.”
But you didn’t leave. You stood there for a second, watching him like you wanted to say something else. Then, without a word, you stepped closer, leaning over him. Price froze, his breath catching as you bent slightly, your lips brushing against his forehead. It wasn’t the first time you’d done it, but something about this moment—the softness, the lingering touch—made his chest tighten.
“Get some rest, John,” you murmured, the way you said his name feeling like a balm he didn’t know he needed.
As you straightened, your hand brushed his, and before he could think better of it, his fingers closed around your wrist. You stilled, your eyes meeting his, wide and questioning. For a moment, the air shifted, warming yet frozen.
Price didn’t know what drove him—the exhaustion, the pain, or the quiet, gnawing need he’d buried for so long. Maybe it was all of it. But before he could stop himself, he tugged you forward, slow but deliberate, his other hand rising to cradle the side of your face.
His lips met yours. The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it. Gratitude, relief, and something—something raw and unyielding—poured into that single moment. He kissed you like a man letting himself feel for the first time in years, and when he finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed beneath his beard, his breaths uneven.
“Should’ve done that ages ago,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, tinged with something that sounded suspiciously like regret.
You blinked at him, stunned, your lips still parted as if the words hadn’t quite reached you yet. Then, slowly, a grin broke across your face, soft and teasing. “What changed?”
He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back against the cushions. “You. You wore me down, love.”
And just like that, his walls crumbled.
#captain john price#cod x reader#john price x reader#cod#call of duty#cod fanfic#john price#crying screaming throwing up at what I've just done#I want to both comfort and be comforted yk?#price x reader#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod john price#price cod#comfort#cod comfort#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x you#task force 141#task force 141 x reader
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33 / 1.8k / shark mermen Gaz and Soap for mermay :)
...
You emerge from the cold saltwater with a gasp and cling to the only thing you can—a metal buoy, just as freezing as the ocean.
Something brushes your leg. Again. Then you feel a jolt of pain.
A moment later, he surfaces—the mer who cut you off from the boat and pursued you here. He looms closer, curious eyes fixed on you.
"Don't come any closer!" you tell him, half-strangled by seawater. You wish you sounded stronger. Your throat burns raw and your voice is choked. You press yourself up closer to the tower-shaped navigation buoy in a vain attempt to pull yourself away from him.
Gaz cocks his head to the side at the command, his black eyes flickering to your mouth in recognition. He treads the rough water effortlessly, lazily, the shape of his body under the water rolling.
He understands you perfectly. Then he moves closer anyway.
You sputter, fingers slipping as you scrabble for a better hold to—you're not sure, pull yourself to safety? There's nowhere to go.
He looms over you. You turn your face away and press into the buoy as tightly as you can. He rests his hand against the metal near your head, claws digging into the rust. His eyes rake over your body. You’re cold. Wet. Scared. Gaz can’t keep his eyes from moving all over you. From your wild, dripping wet hair down to where you disappear into the sea, thin human skin flat against curved metal. All the soft, exposed flesh in between.
Tentatively—when he doesn’t grab you—you steal a glance at him. His broad shoulders are bare, skin dark and smooth. Scars mark the sculpted muscles of his chest and forearms. Saltwater in the open cuts on your arm force your attention back to the situation at hand. He spots the bloody rivulets running down your forearm at the same time you do. It’s not just a series of cuts—it’s a bite mark. He bit you.
Then something big brushes your leg. You jolt, kicking, your shin banging hard against the base of your safe buoy. You nearly jump out of your skin when a second mer surfaces right behind you.
Gaz follows your stare back to the second mer. It’s Soap.
Soap grins, razor-sharp teeth flashing in the dim light. His dark hair is drenched, swept back from his face and away from his eerie all-blue eyes. When you don’t react immediately, freezing up instead, his hands crawl up your waist. You shriek. Soap laughs at your reaction. He tightens his hands on your waist and pulls you so easily from the buoy into the cage of his arms.
You struggle to keep yourself aloft without anything to hold on to. Soap seems blasé about keeping you high enough above the surface to breathe. He's more interested in your peculiar human features—your gilless ears, your flat teeth, the soft skin that extends well past your waist and hips. Even Gaz moves closer, enthralled with the sight of you wrapped up in Soap’s arms, your comparatively tiny human hands gripping and splashing around in a way they’d consider rather cute. Like a kitten curling its paws around a toy rather than someone fighting just to stay afloat.
Your lungs still burn with salt and your sparse clothes cling to you as you twist in the waves. Desperate to escape, you shove your left hand against Gaz's chest and your right elbow against Soap's, trying to make room for yourself between them and lift yourself away from Soap's curious, clawed hands. But there isn't much you can do.
Gaz stares down at your hand lingering on his chest. You have such short, blunt, thin claws. How are humans supposed to protect themselves with those? He looks up to see Soap attempting to wrestle your squirming, slippery little human body more securely into his arms.
"I had her," Gaz says in their mer language.
You can't understand it. To you, it sounds strange and half-muted, but you can feel the depth of the vocalizations in Gaz's chest and snatch your hand away as if burned.
“And now I have her,” Soap says.
"You shouldn't have grabbed her. She’s riled up now."
“You just want to be the only one to see her up close. You can share." Not to mention he knows how Gaz can be. If Gaz were to get his hands on you first, Soap would be lucky to see a damn thing, much less touch you. Soap, on the other hand, knows how to share. “Have a look at the skin. Like an eel’s, but with little hairs.”
Gaz glares at him but obliges, dipping under the waves as he moves closer. He can’t resist the temptation of that soft flesh, so different from his own. Especially when Soap’s already got his hands on you and is feeling you up as much as he likes.
He circles you slowly as his eyes adjust to see you better in the low light. The rest of you is just as interesting as what's above water, if not more. You've got knees. Feet, even. He skims a claw from your ankle to your thigh. You kick in response, and Soap's long tail twists in the water to keep hold of you. Your feet, your legs—they’re so tiny. All flesh, no fins at all. Even when you kick, they just slide through the water so uselessly.
Above the water, you cry out at the sudden feeling. Cold dread settles into your gut as you recognize these two for what they are—not just mer, but sharks. Their size and sharp teeth give them away. Not to mention their skin. It looks like human skin, but it's smooth when rubbed in one direction and sandpaper-rough in the other. Exactly like the skin of the creatures they mimic.
You push blindly against Soap's chest, ignoring the bite of his claws as he holds on to you. You're certain they're about to pull you underwater and drown you. Maybe eat you. You've already been bitten.
Then, over the roar of blood in your ears, you hear the distant sound of a boat's bell. You swivel your head to see a small rescue boat. Someone must have noticed you were snatched overboard. Instantly, energy pulses into your limbs again. You push yourself up as far as you can, nails digging into Soap's shoulder, and you wave your arms and shout for all you’re worth to get the rescue boat's attention.
Soap whips his head around to follow the sound of the boat. He knows exactly what it is, and he doesn't like it one bit. The more he tries to hold you still, though, the louder and shriller your cries get. There's no chance the boat will miss you like this. Humans have really good eyesight even without their little lights. He could just let you go. He wanted to see you up close, and he did. But with Gaz circling below the water, and with every little touch reinforcing his curiosity about you, and with the smell of your blood filling his senses, he decides he and Gaz haven't had nearly enough time to study you.
With a beat of his tail, Soap pushes away from you.
You sink instantly, gasping in a mouthful of saltwater as you struggle to right yourself. You break the surface of the water one more time, but all that comes out when you try to call for help again is a watery choke.
A clawed hand wraps around your ankle and pulls you down. Your head submerges. Everything goes muffled besides the sharp stinging in your nose, eyes, and the bite on your arm. Soap's grip is like steel, pulling you down, down, down until the surface is just a glittering ripple far away. Your wild thrashing just tires you out, which makes keeping you under easier. He can only imagine the kind of panic that’s taking hold. Humans are notoriously poor swimmers.
Your vision spots as you struggle. Soap knows exactly what he's doing. His blood sings in his veins, the thrill of the hunt overriding everything. The moment is perfect: you under his control even as you fight like good prey.
The pressure of the water grows immense. It presses in on your eardrums and your chest cavity. You fight against the urge to breathe, but you are well and truly running out of oxygen.
Soap feels your struggling grow weaker. There's no way you're getting away now. You’re all his.
Suspended in the water above you both, Gaz understands exactly what Soap's instincts are telling him to do. His are saying the same thing: to strike while you're vulnerable, disoriented, desperate.
Instead, he dives to Soap and stops him.
"What are you doing?" he snaps. "Humans can't survive in the water."
Soap blinks like he’s turning his brain back on. "Aye. Am only hiding her."
"For how long?"
"Til the boat leaves. Morning, maybe."
Gaz grits his teeth. Before Soap can protest, Gaz darts up and grabs you with a burst of speed, ripping you right out of Soap’s grasp. The way he hooks you into the inside of his elbow knocks the last of the air out of you.
Your head spins. Your body is wracked by a dry, painful cough, and your mouth opens as your body instinctively tries to find air. Water fills your lungs. Gaz feels you convulse. He clamps his hand around your mouth. But it doesn't do you any good.
He propels you both up toward the surface. But instead of breaking through, he swims parallel, leaving the rescue boat behind.
You’re clinging to the final frayed threads of consciousness when you finally break the surface of the water. Your back hits sand. The impact forces your diaphragm to push a mouthful of water loose. That gets you coughing again. You flip over and cough what feels like an unsurvivable volume of seawater out of your lungs.
You cough until every muscle in your stomach hurts. You keep coughing as you get to your hands and knees and drag yourself up the rocky beach. Gravel cuts and burrows into your hands and knees. You don't have the capacity to notice anything besides the air you're desperately swallowing.
As soon as you're not completely convinced you'll die here, you collapse onto your side, curling into a fetal position. You don't notice the two lambent pairs of eyes watching you from the shallows.
...
[part 1] / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5
more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist tag
#mine#story#mermay#mermay 2024#monster lover#monster fucker#merman#kyle gaz garrick#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#fem reader#x reader#cod#cod x reader#call of duty#call of duty x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#tf 141#tf 141 x reader
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Call of Duty, Father's Day edition:
Just fatherly things, or how you honor the men in your life on this special day.
Capt. John Price - Price never asks for much, just your safety and happiness, but the kids wanted to give him presents for Father's Day, so you do. A new hat that looks like all the others but more expensive, a new mug for his tea, and kisses galore on his chonky cheeks. What more could the Cap'n ask for?
Gaz - Kyle just wants to hold his family in his arms, so he does. He didn't think he'd make it back in time to be here with you guys but he did and he's so damn happy. Now he and the little ones can get caught up on the latest gossip.
Alex Keller - It's not too often that he gets to do this. You all enjoyed his favorite breakfast with him: a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It's worth the sugar rush you know Keller and the kids will experience afterward.
Soap - Soap's been meaning to help his girls with their cheer practice so you honor him by... letting him be the bottom of the pyramid. With his cheer uniform on. And Whiskey keeps licking his face. You took a photo and he'll never live it down. The wee ones laugh every time.
Ghost - The Missus™ achieves his dream of sleeping in today with his girls right beside him. There's Simon, his big arm wrapped around his kids who're cuddled up against him, and Pup by his feet sleeping peacefully. He'll wake up to a wonderful gift courtesy of his girls: a pink shirt that says Princess Daddy in glittery letters across the chest, and it's adorned with a tiara, too? Missus Princess Daddy™ is life, Simon. You cannot escape it lmao.
Alejandro - Alejandro wakes up to his kids tackle-hugging him in bed. There's breakfast and a card with heartfelt messages on it. They're very proud of their papa for everything he does and continues to do for them. Oh, and he's about to be a papa again. Best Father's Day gift ever, amirite? Congrats, Alejo!
Rudy - Oh, you let the mother hen rest today. Rudy loves to pamper and cater to his family but now it's his turn to be pampered and catered to. The house? Clean. Dinner? Cooking. Kids? Loving on Rudy. All is as it should be.
König - The kiddo's Father's Day gift has been pranking König something fierce all day and all you can do is shake your head in faux exasperation and revel in the gremlin laughter (from both of them) echoing throughout the house. You'll have his favorite meal for dinner.
Horangi - Today, Horangi is being honored by his kid beating him in card games. Repeatedly. And Horangi trying to figure out how and why this is happening lmao.
Graves - Graves is also pretty content with his lot in life. You and Boss Baby Graves give him a gift card to a spa he's been wanting to try. And then you get his ass by having some of the men from Shadow Company call and wish him a Happy Father's Day and call him Dad. Real cute, darlin'.
#happy father's day!#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#x black reader#x poc reader#x plus size reader#task force 141#los vaqueros#kortac#shadow company#john price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#rodolfo rudy parra x reader#phillip graves x reader#könig x reader#konig x reader#horangi x reader#alex keller x reader
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net meet cute
aka: how they start cyberstalking you. Some of these are more on the innocent side, some are slightly more intense.
Gaz sees you pop up in the people you may know section. He most certainly doesn't know you, but you are his type. As it turns out, you have some ridiculously distant relation of people that leads to his circle of connections (you're like his sister's college roommate's wedding photographer's cousin or something). But that one little tether is enough to make him feel tugged.
Soap started following you for your artwork. He follows anyone who even remotely interests him, and he liked what you made. You become a name he looks forward to on his feed-- he feels a bit parasocial about it, he knows your body of work so well now. And one day, he sees you share a post you were tagged in: It's a photo of you with another artist, both holding up the pieces you'd made to trade each other at a convention. He'd known you were talented, he didn't realize you were gorgeous as well.
Ghost sees you in the background of a video Soap shows him. Some disgusting display where people are trying to identify liquids they're drinking. When it's your turn, your face twists and you stick out your tongue, a little patch dyed umber from the soy sauce you'd sipped. He does a little detective work, finds you have a tiny little channel of your own. Nothing with a consistent schedule, clearly just a hobby, but there are a few videos of you restoring old toys, repainting dolls faces and things like that-- usually just showing your hands, but he finds your voice so soothing and you work with such delicate precision. Pretty soon he's obsessed with you, and fantasizing about ending up on your work table.
Price has very few reasons to surf online, but he does have a guilty pleasure: r/AITA. He loves a bit of tabloid level gossip now and again, and its the perfect place for it. He can see the world's most delusional people hard at work. His favorite ones are when both sides are clearly deranged and meant for each other. But then he sees you, posting about your shitty boyfriend, and all too willing to take the blame for the sorry state of things. And he finds himself rather keen on showing you how girls like you ought to be treated, as well as kicking your current man in the teeth.
I've mentioned this before, but I think König meets you in an online game. At first, you never speak on the microphone, and he doesn't either, but you're quite good, and your playstyle compliments his rather well. So he sends you a friend request on a whim, you accept it, playing a few rounds before turning on the party-only voice chat. And once he can hear you when you thank him for tanking damage, or targeting a player who'd been flanking, or pinging a pick-up for you, he's cooked. Looking you up on every social, trying desperately to find pictures of you, because he's sure you'll be as pretty as you sound.
Nikolai find you on a movie review website. He watches movies by the dozen when he gets some time off, but he's admittedly a little bereft of discussion partners, so review suit him fine. He typically disagrees with most of them, partially because he's naturally a contrarian, partially because the majority of online reviews are made by casual watchers and not lifelong cinephiles. And he comes across you, having written one of the only full, multiple-paragraph reviews for the obscure little number he'd just watched. And it straight up made him smile. Your review was punchy, funny, addressed multiple areas including the score, cinematography, casting, and costuming, and he agreed with a surprising portion of it. What he didn't agree with, he was intrigued by. He looks at your page to see what else you've written. You've seen and shared thoughts on many of his favorites, but quite a few things he's never seen, as well. He ends up watching them all, and feels a certain perverse excitement when it comes time to read another review, like he's a teenager taking you on a third date. Before long he's wondering where you are, if you go to the cinema. If they have non-hostile airspace.
Nikto finds you on the staff of some insanely obscure wiki/ID forum. Like, you help run a website/blog that's devoted exclusively to soviet era stuffed animals produced in Sergiev Posad (formerly known as Zagorsk). You help people identify them from pictures, from vague descriptions sent in to you of something from their childhood. He doesn't know why, but he ends up searching up images from others, often from unpopular and defunct listings on marketplace/bidding sites just to send to you. Just to read what you have to say about the stitch markings and stylistic eyes and the little tab of fabric on the leg seam from where the tag was cut. Maybe he'll take it further, maybe he won't. Maybe he'll find out where you are, just to make sure you're safe. Maybe he'll have to keep you safe. People with hearts like yours don't last in this world.
#writing#cod fanfic#not writing#john soap mactavish#cod#simon ghost riley#john soap mctavish x reader#könig#john price#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#soap x reader#john price x reader#konig#König#könig x reader#konig x reader#nikolai x reader#nikolai cod#nikto x reader#nikto#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#cw stalking#cw obsessive#nikolai
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I would love to read an imagine of TF141 and what they’d do together with the reader on vacation and you can choose any destination of your choice! Hot topical to glaciers!
Thank you!
I could have gone spicy with this. The fact that I didn't is a testament to my self-control. While there is a little heat, most of this is just straight up fluff. It's all cuteness. Good feelings only. Pure comfort. Enjoy!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, fluff, flirting, kissing, mild suggestive themes, brief mention of alcohol
Word Count: 1k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
John Price
The stars above you are white against the dark sky. The crisp, cool Pacific Northwest air sends a slight chill across your skin. A shiver passes over you, and you snuggle closer to John, seeking his warmth. He sighs contentedly, arm tightening as you press into his side. The swimming dock rocks softly, lulling you toward sleep.
It’s quiet out on the lake. No lights. No noise. It’s nice to get away from everything—to spend time with your husband that doesn’t involve home.
“I’m happy we came, John,” you sigh.
“You like the cabin?”
You nod. “It’s peaceful.”
John's lips lightly press against your temple. "I'm happy you joined me."
Whenever John leaves for a trip to the cabin, it’s almost always a hunting or fishing trip with his team. Even they need to cool off after a mission. But John didn’t ask them to come. He brought you to his favorite place.
His fingers lightly curve under your chin, tilting your head upward. Closing the distance, John greets you with a kiss that melts you down to your toes.
He smiles softly. “Up for a little swim?”
You laugh. “It’s a bit chilly. And it’s dark!”
John grins and then pushes up to his feet, removing his clothes until he’s down to absolutely nothing. His pale butt is on full display in the moonlight.
"John!" you protest, but he’s already diving in.
You sit up, startled, watching the rippling dark water. A beat, and then he resurfaces. “Join me.”
With heat rising in your cheeks, you follow his lead. You do not dive as gracefully.
As you resurface, treading water, John cozies up to your, reaching for you beneath the surface. Your legs wrap around his middle, the two of you silently floating under the stars. The water is cold but you hardly care. John is warm, and so are his kisses.
They are cute at first, little peaks that become deeper, making your core clench with anticipation. The chilly water is a distant thing in your mind. All you know is John, and this moment, and all the days you have ahead with him.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
It’s hot in Miami. The beach is packed.
But Kyle is uncaring of the crowd, too busy with the remote-control toy excavator you bought him just for this beach trip.
“How’s the digging?” you ask, flipping a page in your book. You lounge under an oversized umbrella.
Kyle moves the joystick with his thumb. The yellow toy excavator picks up a chunk of sand and dumps it to the side. “I’m going to have the biggest hole on the beach.”
You nod, and lightly pat his shoulder, returning to your book.
There are a few minutes of silence between you before Kyle puts the remote control down and turns to look at you.
“What?” you prompt as Kyle continues to stare.
“I’m bored. Wanna go play mermaids in the ocean?”
Inserting the bookmark, you close your book and set it aside. “Absolutely I do.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
“I’ve never done this before, Johnny.”
“I know, love. It’s okay. I’m right here.” Johnny holds your hands in his. "Being scared is nothing to be ashamed of."
Before you is a mountainous slope covered in snow. Plenty of people are already on it, descending to the bottom on skis and snowboards. Some are lightning fast with others meander slowly. It looks fun—really, it does—but this is completely new to you.
When Johnny said vacation in the Alps, you didn’t think this. You were imagining a fancy cabin with nice food, a hot tub in the snow, and steamy sex next to a roaring fire.
“I’ll hold on to you. The whole way down. We’ll do this together.”
“You won’t let me fall?”
Johnny’s gloved hands squeeze yours in reassurance. “It’s just the bunny hill.”
“For children. I’m not a child.” "Oh, aye. It's for wee ones. But also, for newbies. Besides, I'll be with ya." He winks. "Won't let anything happen."
"That is not reassuring," you mutter, the snowboard wobbling slightly under your feet.
Johnny is the only thing keeping you upright. He grips you tightly, completely at ease in the snow.
“Do you promise?” you ask.
Johnny releases one of your hands to move his goggles into place. He lightly taps his helmet against yours.
“Promise.”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
"Her sisters are in Greece."
"You Brits like to steal everything."
Simon chuckles. "Throw a rock in here and you'd hit something that came from somewhere else."
He steps away from the statue, turning to move on to another. You follow him, trying to see what he sees.
“I wouldn’t take you for the museum type.”
"Why?" asks Simon, arching an eyebrow.
You gesture at him, and Simon snorts. “Fair point,” he replies, glancing down at himself. He looks more ready to jump on the back of a sportbike rather than tour a museum.
Simon moves on to a new statue, head titled slightly as he peers up at it. “I like museums. They’re calm. Quiet. I can take my time. No one needs me. No one expects anything from me.”
He says it so casually, but you hear the underlying sigh. There is something heavy beneath it. A weight he carries but you can’t identify what it may be.
“I can be here for hours,” he murmurs.
“So…no pub crawls?”
Simon attempts to stifle a laugh. “Love a good pub crawl. Johnny and I go on them all the time. He always thinks he can out drink me.”
“Does he?”
“Never,” grins Simon.
He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers. You slide your hand into his, the warmth of him chasing away your worry.
Simon pulls you in close, two of you leaving the statues behind.
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#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#task force 141 imagine#task force 141 fanfiction#task force 141 fluff#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley fanfic#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley fanfic#john price x reader#simon riley#john soap mactavish#task force 141 fanfic#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#captain john price x reader#soap mactavish#ghost x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#price x reader#captain price cod#price call of duty#price cod#soap call of duty#soap cod#ghost call of duty
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:3c hiii, if it's not a bother, could you write more headcanon's for the cod men as parents? I think I might have died from cuteness overload while reading that one.
ahh ofc!! i've been wanting to write more so this is perfect, thank you <333
𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Them As Parents #3
ʚĭɞ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto
Price
He adjusted to being a father a lot easier than he thought he would, somehow his kids are a lot easier to keep in line than the tf141
He's constantly announcing every little thing or accomplishment the kid has done, and he forces everyone to listen and they kinda have to because what else are they going to do? Say no? Wouldn't even think or dare to do that
He's just so happy to carry his chunky babies around, and loves it especially when you're feeding them, he smiles endearingly and you're like "what're you smiling for?" "I love seeing my babies growing"
Omg and imagine your babies having that same heartwarming smile he has, awwwww-
Ghost
He knew taking care of kids would be... something
But he sees how hard you work, how late you stay up trying to get the whiny baby to sleep, but he just won't stop fussing and moving and you don't want to wake Simon because he's supposed to be resting from just having come back
But he hears your tired sighs and pleading to the baby to please sleep, so he comes up behind you and gently takes the baby while telling you to go rest, that you need it
And hearing his low, smoky voice gives you such relief you almost cry because you've been sleep deprived
Soap
He taught the boys to show respect and love to you all the time, it's almost overwhelming!
Once a neighbor encountered this scene where Johnny had just gotten back from picking up the kids from school and he ran out the car yelling "Whoever gets to mom first gets to kiss and hug her!"
All three of them practically bolted inside the house and tackled you
And even if they play roughly, getting muddy and dirty they make sure to rinse off with the hose and wait before entering to dry off, they wouldn't want to ruin the effort you do to keep the house spotless, and guests who come over are always surprised at how you manage to keep the place so clean when there's two- well technically three boys with Johnny who hasn't lost his playfulness
Gaz
Can't help but imagine how Kyle would be like with his teen daughter
He loves her to death and would do anything for her, he's interested in whatever she's into and loves going along with her to go out and stuff
Especially if she's a little more on the loner side and doesn't have many friends :(, he'll throw in all his free time to make sure she gets out and has fun
And he's especially protective when someone is interested in dating her, he doesn't take kindly to them especially if he senses some underlying intentions
Closes up, clams up and his kindness and hospitality is gone, only the stone cold faced sergeant
Roach
He's never been a father before, what's he even supposed to do? The most he's taken care of is a hamster and the bug collection that's on display
Probably doesn't really hit him until you really start to show, like he's excited but constantly jumpy at any sign of pain you show, you wince? Should he get the car started? Feel a kick? The baby must be coming, right?
You've had to calm him down, tell him you appreciate his enthusiasm but that he needs to be the one to calm down, probably getting more sentimental than you are right now
Omg and the moment he saw you give birth and hold the baby he was shaking and crying, he couldn't believe he witnessed that, he's staring down at his baby girl and he's thanking you by pressing kisses to your forehead
She's definitely a daddy's girl, always sticking close to him and developing an interest for his same hobbies
Alejandro
I can see this man turning into mother the minute the child is born, like you've already given birth to his kids you've done enough now let him take over
He can cook pretty well actually and loves sneaking up out of bed to prepare the kids breakfast and surprise you by the time you wake up with breakfast in bed
Also, he has to stop his habit of swearing around the kids, most of the time it's in Spanish but your kids will still pick up on it and try using it sentences when it's certainly not appropriate
He's also telling the kids stories of when he was their age that are blown out of proportion, very common for him to exaggerate and add details just to make them gasp and believe it, thinks it's funny because they're so gullible and you're just standing there listening to his nonsense shaking your head
Rudy
He practically melted when you told him you wanted to try for a baby
He's over the moon daydreaming about it, having a mini you and him
The type to be wanting to set up for the nursery as soon as he finds out you're expecting, also he just loves doing things around the house like the malewife he is that you almost suggested he carry to term instead
He'd love a daughter and would be the one singing lullabies, cradling her little body gently in his arms as he practically twirls around the room
Just watching that angelic little face that smiles when she wakes up and sees his loving face, he's the happiest man there could ever be
Practically living life through rose-colored glasses taking care of his princesita
Phillip Graves
He was made to father children
Those great genes of him make beautiful, cute babies that get fawned over everywhere you go
Showing off his offspring like if they were his greatest life achievement
He's so proud to have you too, he's bragging how you managed to give him kids and how well you do caring for them and him <3
He loves loves buying them toys of which you constantly scold him for, they've got so many!
Also, refuses to pay for a nanny or babysitter, even for dates you to go off on he'd rather a close family friend if it's ABSOLUTELY necessary, but he's trained and educated his kids so well you two could go to a fancy dinner and they would keep still
Makarov
He's probably always thinking about having more and more kids
Like he can't ever get tired of them, once his first child was nearing teen years and his second and third were already well past their toddler stage he just wouldn't stop bringing the conversation up
Until it's past midnight and kid one will come in saying they don't feel well and ask for medicine, then kid two comes crying because they've just had a nightmare and kid three threw up and kid four made a mess and won't go to sleep-
He's constantly buying them toys when you tell him they had more fun playing with a box and bubble wrap than the expensive playset he bought them, still he doesn't mind letting his money fly when it comes to you or his kids, for that he has no limit
Just shrugs and hands the kid money when they ask for it (wouldn't that be useful?)
Keegan
He wanted one kid only and that's because according to him "kids are too much work", but he pisses you off probably more than the kid
He also gives terrible life advice, telling the kid how to get away with stuff when he thinks you're not listening but suddenly you come around the corner giving him a glare and reminding him if he keeps this up he'll be the one dealing with it because it's his fault
You're surprised your kid doesn't come back seriously injured when they're out with Keegan, not that he's reckless but he tends to show the kid to do things that they aren't exactly ready for... like those huge, sharp pliers you saw barely being held by small, tender hands, you were clutching your chest the entire time scared while Keegan told you he'd be fine, only doing some yard work
König
König as a father is such a common thought in my head, like he becomes 10x more daddy material
Just seeing him come home tired but still clean up and throw on some sweatpants to play with his toddlers who have a ton of energy
And also carry the baby who's less than a year old while sitting on the living room couch watching the others play has you going feral
Just seeing him like that makes you want to birth more babies for him, you're literally begging him to put more babies in you while he softly goes "no"
It's not that he doesn't want more but he sees how hard you work taking care of them and he doesn't want to stress you out :(
Horangi
Poor Horangi finds himself in the absolute weirdest predicaments, one of the girls lost her favorite stuffed toy, last she remembers she had been playing with it outside in the rain
Now he has to spend over an hour outside looking for it in the dark with a flashlight in hand as he searches for the damn thing because otherwise she won't go to sleep, you're inside holding her while she sobs about her plushie
After who knows how long he finds the old thing, it's covered in mud, the fur matted and not to say... foul smelling, definitely needs a good wash, so there he is inside scrubbing it and using a hair dryer because the drying machine would take too long
Until finally, he can hand it over and watch her turn in bed happily snuggling with the stuffed animal
God is it hard to be a parents but it's rewarding and so worth every moment
Nikto
This man gets drunk off the thought of having children with you despite he's always put off whenever you brought the possibility up
Still, he likes to think about it, the chubby hands reaching out for him, a soft voice calling for him, oh and how you'd look... all caring and nurturing towards the little thing
Yeah screw it he wants one or two or-
He just wants it to be his turn, his one chance at a haven
Oh and he's turned into the softest most gentlest creature that there could ever be, he'll silently observe as you feed her, just admiring this beautiful scenery like a painting
One night, Nikto insists on putting the baby to sleep, you let him while you go get ready for bed and when you come back to check on him he's singing in soft tones while placing the already sleeping baby in the crib, you lean on the doorframe careful not to make noise and just enjoy the moment
#captain john price#price x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gary roach sanderson#roach x reader#alejandro vargas#alejandro x reader#rudy x reader#rodolfo parra#phillip graves x reader#phillip graves#vladimir makarov#makarov x reader#keegan p russ#keegan x reader#konig x reader#konig cod#kim horangi hong jin#horangi x reader#andre nikto#nikto x reader#cod headcanons#cod fanfic
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Can i request the 141 double penetrate the reader in the 🐱 and take turns f*cking.
(sorry I'm just really horny right now 😓)
the simultaneous notifications of a video sent from soap, the blurred screen of the preview unmistakably your pussy, legs spread wide, cutest little hole stretched over soap's girthy cock,
"fuck..."
your sweet gasped moans and johnny's fervent whines and praises, the press of skin against skin, and a lengthy dildo filling your cunt to the brim alongside johnny's cock, johnny thrusting the dildo in tandem to his thrusts. the sight was almost too much to bear for the three others.
thoughts of your pretty pussy stuffed with two real cocks, the hot press against another cock stretching your hole, the tighter fit, the filthy endeavor seemed to be a sentiment they shared and agreed upon.
making you cum for the nth time on both his and johnny's cock, gaz could hardly believe the sight before him, much less how unexpectedly pleasurable it'd be to see you full and cockdrunk on two cocks. on your knees, your pretty ass shaking with every thrust being his view, as johnny holds you tight against his chest your soft tears and mewls leaving a pretty sheen as they both provide reassurance.
"so pretty taking both our cocks like this."
"feels so good yeah darling?"
the clear sight of both his and johnny's cock in your little hole as you moved to thrust back against them was undoubtedly the hottest thing he's ever seen.
john and simon were less merciless with you, coaxing orgasm after orgasm. john's hands imprinted your ass, as he forced your hips up and down on both their huge cocks. the milky mess of john's cum coating your mound, leaving a creamy slick on simon's cock, acting as lubricant to ease the tightness of your pussy.
one of simon's hands slipping forward to pinch and rub and at your clit, tracing the stretch of your pussy around his and price's cock.
"c-can't anymore!"
the fullness was a tad overwhelming, the constant and relentless pleasure of both their cocks inside your pussy submerging you in devastating pleasure.
"there you go baby, cum as much as you need to angel."
the wetness of your squirt, your cunt tightening as you cum goaded simon's orgasm, the thick ropes of cum slipping out alongside the drenched mess pooling down their balls.
simon's chuckle as he comes down from his high, lightly slapping your pussy over the jut of your clit to force little streams of squirt, adding to the mess, you squeal at the overstimulation.
"pretty little pussy made such a cute mess."
𖧷 i hope this was okay :') so sorry it took so long btw! :(( just got home from my holidaaayy <3
— recs are still open guys tysm for reading ♡
#price smut#cod smut#fairiewrites#john price smut#simon riley smut#ghost x reader smut#ghost smut#john price x reader smut#cod x reader#fairiewrites141#gaz smut#soap smut#soap x reader smut#simon riley x reader smut#gaz x reader smut
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