#call of duty mw x reader

[fortheb0ys]

Bit of a prenap ramble...

I'm just imagining being the barracks bunny for the 141. Bunch of stressed out men with ALOT of needs to fulfill.

They pull you aside and get you to fuck them anywhere and everywhere. Showers, offices, military vehicles. There's been numerous times that get you to fuck them one by one in the aircraft back to base as the others watch in lustful awe as they jerk themselves.

Soap a bit more needing than the rest. The mission reports bearly touch before he's palming himself through his pants. He's already came once or twice before you reach his room. He'd milk you dry as you fuck into the early hours of the morning.

Ghost doesn't like to admit he likes the attention you give him. The way the burdens he feels melt away with each of your touches. You're one of the very few that are lucky to see his face yet alone to see his face completely fucked stupid.

Ghost and Soap, an otherwise close duo, fighting over who gets to be fucked first. The argument ending with your tongue deep in Soap's ass and Ghost riding your dick, them making as they do so.

Gaz on the other hand is a bit reserved to ask. It'll take till the stress boils over till he's begging. You treat him like the perfect man he is. Gentle and sweet. His eyes nearly tearing up as you lay soft kisses along his gorgeous body.

Price is a work first, fuck later kinda guy. You're moreso the one getting impatience for sex. He'd cockwarm as he does his paperwork, occasionally tightening his walls around when you get antsy. As a reward for a mission well done, you get to fuck your beloved captain on his desk.

[gothghostiie]

price with reader who never got much attention as a kid/growing up??

very self indulgent but hear me out. price is a lover man. he takes his time for his partners, gives them what they need, even if he's busy. you on the other hand are simply used to being put aside, people only listening to you half heartedly, not looking at you and getting distracted when you talk, other things were always more important than you and you felt that. you got used to it, it's normal to you.

but when you're with price he's the total opposite. he looks at you intently when you talk (if not hes leaning his head towards you so he hears you better), putting things down when you ask him something - hes attentive. he listens. and its absolutely strange to you, it makes you feel flustered, kinda watched. at some point you ask him why hes looking at you like that, the tv running in the backround. he furrows his eyebrows at you, with a confused chuckle. "what do you mean, love?"

"you're starin' at me." you accuse him, your cheeks getting hot.

"you're talkin' to me. where else would I be looking?" he jokes with a soft chuckle, wondering what the hell you're on about.

"your show's on." you say, gesturing to the tv. he looks at you like youve got three heads.

"I'm listening to you, love."

[chamomiletealeaf]

Being so sensitive to squirting that the 141 make fun of your for it and have little competitions to see who can make you squirt the fastest :(

Johnny holds the record of 37 seconds from fingering you so fast you couldn’t tell when his fingers were inside or out of you.

After their little competition your poor pussy was so swollen and sensitive that all it took was a few rough spanks to your pussy from Price to make you squirt again.

“Oh well look at that? Seems we got a new record holder hm?” Price teases you and Johnny.

“That doesn’t count the competition is over!” Johnny exclaims angrily at Price.

Meanwhile Simon and Gaz are fucking rock hard from watching you squirt again so quickly.

[khioneee]

you don’t follow simon’s orders.

mdni.

you’ve always had a defiant streak when it comes to your lieutenant. something about the way he barked orders, the way he towered over everyone, the way his presence demanded respect—it made you want to push back, to see how far you could go before he snapped.

today, you might’ve gone too far.

‘you better watch that pretty little mouth of yours,’ simon growled, his voice low and dangerous, his gaze pinning you in place.

but then his lips curved into the faintest, cruelest smirk as he leaned in closer, his words dripping with a dark, unspoken promise.

‘before i fuck it.’

your breath hitched, the air around you suddenly feeling too thick, too charged. defiance warred with something else entirely, something you couldn’t name but burned all the same.

this was a game, wasn’t it? a battle of wills. but now, you weren’t so sure you’d win.

[the-palelady]

imagine simon who’s roommate has some SERIOUSSSS road rage (same). especially as someone who’s usually quiet it shocks the shit out of people to drive with me.

you don’t normally drive, but simon’s tired. he just got home from a long mission. however, the man’s gotta eat so you decide to take him out to grab a bite that way neither of you will have to lift a finger.

as always, it’s quiet. between the two of you not much is said, but it’s a comfortable silence.

until you get to a light that’s green, and has been for more than six seconds. that’s all it takes to flip your switch.

“go!!! it’s green for fucks sakes!!!!”

your strength mirrors that of superman with the way your palm slams against the horn.

and simon is lost for fucking words. his eyes snap over to you and he watches the crease in your brows, and the way your face scrunches into a scowl.

it doesn’t stop there though as they finally take off, albeit slowly. which simon notices only pisses you off more.

your fingers are drumming against the steering wheel, foot tapping the gas, and you’re literally riding the ass of the poor bastard in front of you.

“i will take both of us out if you don’t hurry it the fuck up.”

you’re punctuating your words with more taps on the gas. you aren’t screaming like before but your voice is borderline demonic.

finally they make a turn. you all but obliterate the gas pedal as you take off, and let out the breath you had been holding this entire time.

when you turn to peek over at simon, his eyes are glued to you, practically bulging out of his head.

and he has no idea whether he should be scared or horny.

[thedevillovesflowers]

“You want half?”

(Yes I’ve seen reacher)

[novasintheroom]

It’s hard to complain about your body with Simon around. He’ll watch you squish your stomach in the mirror, lips tugging down, and come up behind you to take your hands and hold you close. “Stop doin’ that,” he’ll murmur. “S’fine.” You complain about the curve of your cheeks, and he’s just baffled. He loves your cheeks. Loves to pinch them when you’re cute, pull them when you’re being sassy, rub his own stubbled cheek against yours just to feel it, bite the apple of it when he gets you to laugh. You pout down at your thighs when they squish out as you sit on the couch, and Simon is there to lay his head on your lap, murmuring something about not needin’ a pillow.

Simon loves the pudge of your belly. The fat on your thighs. In a world where he is constantly surrounded by harsh lines and harsher men, your softness enthralls him. To return home to it after a hard mission is what he looks forward to most.

[witchthewriter]

Gaz: I sleep with a knife under my pillow.

Soap: Weak. I sleep with a gun.

Y/N: You’re both pathetic

Soap: What do YOU sleep with?

Y/N: Simon.

[sweetiecutie]

Husband! König is very happy that your parents decide to finally come over to your house for a week to spend Christmas and New Year with you two. König does genuinely enjoy their company - they’re his family now after all, not only by law but by feelings that connect you all.

But there’s a little but. Husband! König just can’t help but feel frustrated at the lack of intimacy between you two these past days. Not only have you been occupied with holiday preparations, shortening the usual amount of attention you gave him, but constant presence of both your parents around the house meant nearly to no sex. From fucking you whenever and wherever he pleased, König now had to settle for a quick hand- or blowjob from you in a bathroom before going back to your parents, all broad smiles and innocence in your eyes.

Husband! König who clenches his chiseled jaw, throwing his head back so it hits the wall behind with a soft ‘thud’ as he tries his absolute hardest to bite back all the moans and groans threatening to slip off his tongue. You coo sweet apologies to him as your hand fists his leaking cock before the warmth of your mouth wraps around thick shaft, sinking down on it until your nose is buried into small bush of dark blonde hair on König’s pubic.

König can barely stay upright, the lack of any sexual interaction between you two in these past days making him even more sensitive. A string of hissed curses falling from bitten lips as your throat moulded to the shape of his dick, clenching down on him as you bob your head up and down, fucking the cum out of your husband with your mouth.

Husband! König who doesn’t last for long, soon flooding your throat with his thick pearly cum, making you gag and cough around his softening dick. You slip your mouth off his cock, tucking it back into his boxers and pressing a small kiss right under his bellybutton, practically making König melt in your arms. “I’m sorry baby, I promise that I’ll make it up to you once they leave” you whisper, pressing another quick kiss to his tummy before standing up and exiting the bathroom, leaving your hubby all hot and bothered still>:[

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[simp-ly-writes]

CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST

──────────────── · · SERIES:

RETURNING TO HOME BASE: You and Simon had been dating for four years now and you know in your heart that you truly loved this man; yet with all the deployment's he's been sent on recently; you begin to question it all, especially when he does not return. (Simon Riley x Reader) (pt.1) (pt.2, v.1) (pt.2, v.2) (completed) word count: 5300 words (19 pages)

A SHADOW COMPANY VISIT: One day the commander forgets his paperwork and you are forced to come to the headquarters; yet not everything is smooth sailing... (Philip Graves x Reader) (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (completed) word count: 5000 words (17 pages)

LASTING PICTURES: You had quit the military after an incident and have been working as a freelance photographer for many years and had built a platform for yourself. But when an offer comes knocking at your door, will you relive your past while trying not to get yourself killed in the process or choose to live a more reserved life to yourself? The decision you make is not an easy one- yet the people you meet along the way may sway the opinions you hold about your future and your relationships. (poly! 141 x Reader) Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist (completed) word count: 50,000 words (100 pages)

IN MY SHADOW: You and a few members of your former task force get recruited to work at Shadow Company; what will that entail for the future? (Philip Graves x Reader) (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (completed) word count: 4,500 words (10 pages)

SUITS, TIES, AND THUS SPIES: Task Force 141 gets temporarily recruited by MI6- the British Secret Intelligence Services for a mission since Laswell owed more than a few favours over the years from you and your team. (Platonic!Task Force 141 x Reader) Suits, Ties, and Thus Spy's Series Masterlist (Completed) word count: 27,000 words (47 Pages)

PROFESSIONALS: You are a MI6 spy with a secret mission different to what the CIA has requested you for; using your information gathering expertise, you pose as Russell Adlers wife as the both of you go undercover abroad, the catch? MI6 wants to know everything about your "husband" just as much as you do. (Russell Adler x F!Reader)

(Introduction) (pt.2: one bed trope) (on-hiatus) wordcount: n/a.

──────────────── · · STANDALONES:

SHORT FICS/DRABBLES:

Playtime: A sweet little family moment (John Price)

A Painting Realisation: While painting John's new space in your shared home, you realize something once again. (John Price x Reader)

A Drunk Night Turned Sober: You watch over a drunk Gaz. (Kyle Garrick x Reader)

Tricks & Sprinklers: It's relatively quiet in the middle of summer until John decides to bring a new dog home to join the household. (John Price x Reader)

──────────── · ·

LONGER FICS:

Sunday Mornings: It's Sunday morning soccer practice for your family yet John always makes the time to show how much he loves you. (John Price x Reader)

Time Stands Still: John is not one to change his accessories, yet after your wedding he seems to have a knack for it. (John Price x Reader)

A Suit Filled Surprise: its been awhile since you had last seen your husband; thankfully your coworkers are there to help. (Philip Graves x Reader)

On the Receiving End: It is John's first time being the other side; awaiting your arrival back home from a business conference while doing his best to manage the kids and home. (John Price x Reader)

Safehouse: When a mission goes south, the team is looking for a safehouse to keep their heads down but little do they know of the small family you keep hidden away from the world. (Platonic!Task Force 141 x Reader)

"Always, Sweetheart.": You were a handler of operators out in the field and Russell Adlers was your best and yet the biggest pain in your side with his constant flirting and desire to get under your skin. Yet as soon as someone else tries to annoy you or heaven forbid- flirt with you, it gets shutdown right away. (Russell Adler x F!Reader)

──────────────── · · MISCALLANEOUS:

Quote from Simon Riley (from RTHB series)

Quote from John Price (from RTHB series)

Price Building a Treehouse

[fortheb0ys]

A sudden dip in the bed startles you awake. Before you could reach for your gun, a small voice cuts through the darkness.

"Y/N, Y/N?"

Makarov, a feared man, whimpers your name. You reach and turn on the lamp. Blinking your eyes as to adjust to the light, you were greeted to a blood soaked Makarov. The sheets quickly turned red as blood dripped onto them. It wasn't the first time he came home in such a state and surely it wouldn't be the last.

Makarov is kneeling, ready and waiting for whatever you would give him. His pupils are blown, black consuming any colour in his eyes. He's trembling slightly, but patiently waited for you to make a move.

"Hello, pretty." You whisper as you bring your hand to rest on his cheek. Makarov leans into your soft touch.

Without a moments notice, Makarov grabs your shoulders and smashes your lips together. The kiss was violent, dirty and full of sinful lust. Quickly you both became breathless but were unwilling to separate. Your mind became dizzy and your eyes grew dim. You felt like you could pass out at any second but Makarov's tongue against yours felt like life itself.

When it all became too much you push Makarov off you and slam him into the mattress. A growl your throat as you rip off Makarov's bloody clothes.

You kiss at every inch on his exposed skin, licking the blood off clean. You bit him, just to bloody him once again. Teeth ripping off skin, tongue soothing the wounds.

Your cock painfully hard as you looked upon your artwork. The canvas, Makarov's beautiful body. Covered in blood, both old and new.

Makarov's lips twisted into a mad smile, feeling proud about how he's got you so feral. He pulls you into a heated kiss, tasting his own blood.

His cock is hard against your thigh as his tries to rut to get any friction. Giving into his desire you spit into your palm and grab your cocks together. Stroking at a tired sloppy pace. He hisses at the dryness, your saliva not quite enough for a smooth hand job.

He rambled on that someone was dead. A MacSomething. MacTavish you think he said. About how he killed him for you. How he'd kill all of them for you. Makarov wanted to destroy everything that stood in front of you. You were his muse for the destruction. Destroy the world for turning it's back to Makarov's beloved.

"They'll all die, beloved." Makarov whispers low.

The dead man didn't matter, all that matter was Makarov. The whole world could burn and it wouldn't matter.

All that matter was Makarov skin against. The world melt away at each biting kiss. At each stoke you both become undone. Pearls of white bead at your tips.

You once again bury your teeth into his neck, biting deep as you both cum. Red and milky white paints your bodies. A finished canvas in blood and cum.

[gothghostiie]

something something babysitter!reader, price calling you to pick you up earlier because his shitty ex wife made sure he has the wrong time for the court hearing, you rush over to his house. hes incredibly thankful while horribly stressed, quickly tying his tie around his neck while on the way to the door. you, being the sweet thing you are, follow him around to help, baby on your hip, keys in the other. he takes them while you're standing in the doorframe and without thinking; call it force of habit; he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before speeding off.

[chamomiletealeaf]

Ok but Simon with dad glasses 😩😩

He’d be reading something and when you ask him something he looks at you from over the thin rectangular frames ugh 😩

He could be sitting on the couch reading a newspaper like an old man and when you ask him if he wants some tea he lowers the paper into his lap and looks at you from over his reading glasses like:

“Hm? What’s that lovie?”

And you get so flustered you start playing with your hands like:

“Um. I- do you want some tea baby?”

And he smirks at you before pushing the frames up on his nose to go back to reading before saying:

“Sure love, but after you come here and sit in my lap while I finish this column.”

[amaranthinespirit]

simon riley who fucks you as tears roll down your face because you're on your period and your cramps are hurting too much.

he came home to see his lovie writhing on the couch, flushed features contorted with discomfort and your hand clutching your stomach. he frowned, his keys dropping with a klink into the ceramic bowl by the front door. he knew the pain that plagued you, he was no stranger to it. he just wants to make his lovie feel better, he doesn't care about the mess; he's dealt with worse, he claimed.

"nothin' i can't 'andle," his tone was heavy with affection and reassurance as he tugged at the waistband of your shorts—hidden under the baggy shirt you wore that belonged to him.

he stuffed a towel he fetched from the laundry basket by the couch under your hips per your request. he knew you'd feel guilty for leaving a mess—even if he couldn't care less. he just wanted you to forget your worries, only thing he wanted you to think about was how good his cock felt sinking deeper into your aching cunt.

the relief that slowly took over your body as you painted his cock red, not even reaching the base. he doesn't force himself all the way in, he doesn't need to to make you feel good enough to come on his thick cock.

fingers digging into the fatty flesh of your hips as he rocks his hips into your sopping, sensitive pussy. there there, lovie, he's gonna make you feel better. no need to feel embarrassed, it's natural, lovie. let him take care of you. he's got you now, he's here.

his pace is restrained, taking gentle care of your aching muscles with the roll of his hips. his abs taut with every slow and deliberate thrust while his other hand rubs the tender flesh of your lower stomach. the warmth from his rough, calloused palm unknotting the tension in your tissue, eliciting another hiccuped moan from your pink, swollen lips. your soft sobs of ached pain turning into breathless sighs and whimpers, occasionally interrupted by a soft jolt of a hiccup. don't cry anymore, lovie, he doesn't like to see you upset.

he found it endearing as he kissed the stray tears away, the saltiness soaking into the fabric of his mask that he hadn't had the chance to pull off just yet. he quietly shushes you, his breath warm against your ear before his head fell to your shoulder. the somewhat scratchy material of his mask itching against your skin before he reaches to pull it above his nose so he can press chapped kisses to your paled skin.

a thrill flutters through his body when he kisses your pulse, feeling the racing heartbeat through the pink flesh of his lips. a low hum slips out from the back of his throat, the sound vibrating through your skin.

"tha's it, lovie," he cooes into your hair, inhaling the faded scent of your shampoo. his hips pressed further against yours as his cock buries deeper into your cunt, nearly kissing your cervix. the mewl that escaped from your lips loud in his ear as he eases himself deeper. he can feel your gummy walls desperately clenching around him, "good girl, lemme take care of ya."

that's it, lovie, you're doing so good, letting him take care of you. his hand presses down on your lower abdomen like your own personal heating pad. his hand is large enough to seem like one.

everything seems to muddle together—the feeling of his cock driving into you and feeling like it's splitting you in two, despite his gentle approach and only fitting just over half his length into your weeping pussy. the feeling of his calloused fingers digging into the fat of your hips, the skin turning white under the pads of his fingertips. the feeling of his warm palm against your lower tummy, rubbing circles along the skin with his thumb occasionally slipping down to lovingly caress your sensitive clit. the feeling of his cracked lips on your delicate skin to further coax you to an orgasm.

he can hear the way your moans change, the way you clench and tighten around him in a desperate attempt to chase the oncoming high he's giving. he doesn't change his pace—he slows down.

his hips slowly drag out of your cunt, driving back in with the same, newly slowed and agonizing pace that leaves you whining. the knot in your tummy building further as you squirm under him. it builds, and builds. his breath heavily against your skin, only being pulled tighter as your arms wrap around his neck in attempts to make him move, but he doesn't.

instead his thumb finds your clit again, toying with your sensitive bud with a pinch as your hips buck under his hand. you can hear the breathless chuckle in your ear. he's not trying to tease you, lovie, he just wants to drag out the pleasure! be patient, lovie, you'll get what you want. he promises.

"good girl, takin' it so well." he praises endlessly, cradling your small, tense body under his relaxed, toned one, "gonna make y'feel all better."

arms wrapped around him like a vice with the feeling of premature waves across your body as the knot gets tighter in your lower tummy. mumbling incoherent whines and pleads in his ear as you're one push from falling. just let him push you over the edge, lovie, come on. enjoy it.

the sound of his name on your lips cuts through the mostly silent air, he feels the shudder of your body under his mass. fuck, just like that, lovie, take what you need. he rides it out, his hips rocking slowly to prolong the ecstasy.

"shh, lovie, v'got ya," his voice heavy against your skin, muffled into your neck as his breaths come out labored.

you're all better now, lovie, you did so good.

[the-palelady]

simon deserves a quiet, loving marriage.

after everything the man has been through he deserves someone that loves him the right way. someone who sees past the flaws, the scars, the darkness that has embedded itself into his mind.

words of affirmation don’t have to be spoken to one another. the two of you just know how the other feels just through their actions or even just the look on their face, the glint of light behind the others eyes as your gazes meet.

he makes you laugh with his occasional morbid jokes or jokes that most wouldn’t find funny, and in return you do the same for him. your laughter is contagious to him. it makes the corners of his lips twitch into a smile that makes your heart beat just a bit faster. has your face brightening in a way that has him asking, “y’alright, love?”

you both meet each other in the middle. not everything is thrown onto one person: laundry, the dishes, you name it. you and simon help each other, work as a team because that’s what partners do. nothing is ever done alone.

he loves the stories about your day no matter how minuscule they may seem to you. they are everything to him. he loves the crinkle at the edges of your eyes when you have a bright smile spreading wide across your face. he loves your mind, how intelligent you are, how you help remind him of things that he so easily forgets.

but most of all he loves how gentle you are. and he’ll always feel like he doesn’t deserve it. he’s a bad man isn’t he? he’s taken the lives of countless of people and yet here you are preparing the man a plate full of your amazing food, warming his bed, and standing with that sparkle in your eyes by the front door when he comes home.

those tendrils that sit in waiting at the back of his mind slowly creep in every so often and it’s like you can see them with those sharp, knowing eyes of yours. the second you spot them you’re shooing them away with a kiss to his brow bone, nuzzling just a bit closer to him in bed until it feels like he might consume you whole with how big he is.

when you finally relax into him, your lips pressed against his temple, he just barely makes out, “everything will be alright.”

and he knows then and there that he does deserve you, that he does deserve your laughter, your smiles, the warmth you bring him, and your kindness.

simon knows everything will be alright because he has you.

[thedevillovesflowers]

“Let’s see if you can handle me sweetheart.”