#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."

[amaranthinespirit]

könig is determined to breed you (p!link)

his pace isn't nice, its straight mean as he pounds his thick, meaty cock into your drooling warmth, desperate to put a baby in your womb. he's not gentle about it either, mind racing and going dumb at the thought, hastily working to make it happen.

your tummy bulges with the way he sheathes his entire bulbous cock in your tight hole, spongy walls constricting around him, feeling every ridge and vein as you hug him tight. his angry, red tip punches against your cervix, ready to spurt his thick load into your sweet cunt.

he knows you'll let him, you'll let him do whatever he wants as he fucks you stupid, jackhammering deeper and deeper with relentless pace. the backs of your thighs reddening and your plush rear bouncing against his hips. his full balls slap against your clit, making you cry out into the bedding, saliva leaking from your lips.

above you, he moans incessantly, pussy-drunk and whipped as he mindlessly humps you, large, rough hands grabbing at your hips, so tight it might bruise.

he mumbles words you can't quite hear, feeling drooling saliva drip from his lips down onto your bare shoulder, running down your back. his jaw is slack, head tilted back and pupils blown.

it doesn't take long for him to fill you full of his seeds, spurting thick ropes of his white, creamy cum to fill your sweet pussy, coating your walls and leaving you full and satisfied. he pulls out to watch it drip out of you, calloused hands pulling your cheeks apart as he watches your slit leak with his release and drip onto the bed. he takes two thick fingers, smearing it across your folds before fucking it back inside you, hoping it takes.

[the-palelady]

when cowboy!ghost is leaving the clinic after his usual visit to his favorite nurse he always makes sure to let her know he loves her. his job is dangerous. last thing he wants is for him to go out without her knowing how much she means to him.

so one day he gives your lower back a pat, whispering a “love ya, sweetheart,” before turning to leave.

however, you don’t say it back.

simon stops dead in his tracks while you continue on about your business. for a moment he waits it out, maybe you didn’t hear him? maybe something else caught your attention and you had to take care of it before responding?

but your response never comes.

so he turns to face you, his expression nothing short of annoyed, eyes narrowed, lips pulled tight under the bandana that obscures the lower half of his face.

your back is turned to him when he stomps over towards you. he minds your hands of course, making sure you aren’t holding any of the doctor’s instruments before he turns you around, jolting you from your work.

your eyes meet a raging fire, his pupils almost dilated. your cheeks are pinched between his thumb and fingers, lips pursed.

“si-“

his voice is a deep rumble, thunder clapping in the distance.

“i said…i love ya, honey. now i know that pretty mouth of yours hasn’t forgotten how to say it, or do i need to give it a reminder?”

[dreaminguponlilypads]

Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley was a man of little sympathy, never having known why people felt so bad for others. That changed however when you came along. Specifically when you got sick.

He'd been in the common room reading but his focus was constantly interrupted by other recruits entering and exiting your room.

"'S goin' on?" He asked one of them.

"She's got a fever. Don't know what to do, honestly."

And as those words filled the air, a pang of something unbeknownst to him spread across his chest? Was it anger, maybe worry? That he didn't know. But one thing was clear - he had to see you.

He closed his book and got up, striding over to your room. A few recruits stood around your bed with one trying to give you a pill with water and the other's asking you if you were okay, effectively overstimulating you. He ordered them all out to which they instantly obliged.

"You okay, lovie?" His voice softened to a coo as he sat down by your bedside. Despite your tousled hair and sunken under-eyes, he still thought you were perfect.

You whine in response as you snuggle back under the blanket, hot and cold simultaneously. And despite your frustrated response, he couldn't help but let out a deep chuckle.

He picks up the pill that you had refused to take prior, along with the glass of water.

"Sit up, darlin'." You knew you couldn't argue so you sat up straight, rubbing your eyes before taking the pill from him and swallowing it with the water. As you continue to drink the water, he rubs your thigh gently.

"Tha's it, good girl. Drink up." A hot flush spread over your cheeks from the gentle praise which he took notice to.

And made sure to remember for the future.

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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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[the-palelady]

you’re straddling simon while the two of you are making out, and he grabs your waist in the most desperate of ways, dragging your closer to him.

it’s like he’s trying to consume you, forcing your chest to press into his. it’s almost suffocating, yet it isn’t enough.

his fingers dig into the divot of your hips and he’s still pulling, still eating you whole as his chapped, warm lips devour yours.

those same rough, callused hands loosen and drag up the expanse of your spine, feeling along every scar, every stretch mark. every flaw you have he’s tracing it, memorizing it, painting it on the back of his eyelids so he never forgets.

he’s rough yet gentle and soft all at the same time. he’s the calm before the storm.

he doesn’t leave an inch of you untouched, from the curve of your hips to the dimples in your cheeks.

you look divine in the museum that is simon’s mind. he places you at the center of his own personal gallery, the works of michelangelo and botticelli insignificant to how heavenly you look seated on his lap.

hell, you’re beautiful no matter what, and simon won’t let you leave his side until he’s sure you’ll never forget that.

[dreaminguponlilypads]

no proofread sorry guys.. also i made this during english class

Lieutenant!Simon Riley was really a true brit at heart. He'd watch football every weekend, made his tea with a kettle and don't get me started on the groveling accent that only deepend his husky voice.

But there was one thing in his life that wasn't completely Englishified. His American partner.

At least when you two'd first met. It'd become a subconscious mission for him to teach you his 'better' ways because ever since seeing you warm up water for tea in the microwave.. he'd never be the same after that one, lovie.

And to his surprise, it slowly worked. After you moved in, you started watching the telly with him more while eating crisps. You'd slowly started calling it football as well because according to him. "Soccer don't make sense. It's a ball ya kick, football. 'S not like it's hard."

Hearing you ask him if he needed any jumpers washed warmed his heart more than he thought it would. It was simply adorable.

Because to him, it meant you'd stayed around long enough to pick up on his vocabulary.

A sign that for the first time, someone could stand him, let alone love him properly.

[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.”