#i will get really back into cod again

[audiovisualrecall]

I have a problem and idk how to fix it. The thought of going through some of this stuff and choosing what to keep and not keep is overwhelming but I'm out of ways to display my collections and I also don't necessarily want to have all of it per se but also every single piece is unique and wonderful and interesting and otl

[windupaidoneus]

i need to sleep but im not happy about ittttt

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing and I've been stalking your page for a while now and I'm really surprised no one requested that one old tik tok trends of S/Os grabbing thier partners feet from under the bed.

PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW THE COD MEN REACTION 😭😭😭😭😭

The way I cackled over this. I love a good prank, especially when there is nothing malicious or nasty behind it. Thank you so much for sending this in!! I had a freaking blast with this. Also, genuinely startled/surprised 141 is just a hilarious concept to me. 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 (MDNI): swearing, hijinks & shenanigans, pranks, established relationship

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

It’s unfair to do this to John, but he makes it so easy. He falls for every one of your pranks. Speedwalks right into them.

And this one is no exception.

You’ve smushed yourself underneath the bed. It’s possible you won’t be able to get out. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, you’re about to scare John.

“I’m home,” he calls out.

You remain quiet. Distantly, you hear the front door shut, and John’s heavy footfalls.

“Dove. I’m home.”

Still, you remain silent.

John calls your name this time. You do not respond.

“Cabbage?”

This time, you almost snort. John doesn’t call you cabbage unless he’s being sincere.

John appears in the doorway, pausing just outside. He takes one step, and then another. He’s just out of reach, booted feet near but not close enough.

“Car’s out front.”

Another step.

You grin, and grab at his ankles.

“What in the bloody—”

John stumbles back, nearly trips, and then rights himself. You cackle, and John sighs. Wiggling closer to the edge of the bed, you bring your face into the light.

“Welcome home,” you grin.

John shakes his head. “I’m not helping you get out from under there.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You silently chuckle to yourself, rubbing your hands together like some comic book villain. Johnny is just off the game with Simon, walking around the house looking for you.

“Darling,” he calls out, that Scottish lilt making the pet name even sweeter.

You stay hidden, watching him pass the bedroom not once but twice.

Even from your hiding spot, you can hear him muttering to himself as he searches room to room.

His feet and ankles appear, pausing just inside the doorway before heading straight to the bathroom. He checks there, and then the closet.

As Johnny passes by the bed to leave, you take a swipe at his feet.

“Oi!” he shouts, spinning around.

You wait a beat. He takes a step. Pauses. When he attempts to leave again, you make another pass.

This time Johnny yells, rushing for the door, returning seconds later. Moving to his hands and knees, Johnny looks under the bed—but only at a safe distance.

“You,” he says, smirking. He starts crawling toward you.

“Johnny,” you warn, but it’s too late. He’s reaching under the bed, wrestling you out from under it, peppering you with sloppy kisses that leave smears of salvia behind.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon is fresh up from a nap. He has no idea you’re currently hiding under the bed. But you’ve taken his phone, placed it on the bed as bait, making calls on it to herd him toward your hiding spot.

Simon appears, stopping directly beside the side of the bed. Slowly, you reach out, and then manically flail about, grabbing at his sock-covered feet.

You expect that your actions might surprise him. He might even make a sound, or even swear. What you didn’t expect is to hear your unshakably dreary husband let out a shriek like that of a startled old woman. Pulling your hand back, you cover your mouth, stifling a snort.

“Bloody hell!” he shouts, taking a few steps back.

He pauses a moment, and then gets down onto his knees before flattening himself across the floor.

“Come here,” says Simon, voice eerily calm.

Oh. Oh no.

“I’d rather not,” you reply, knowing that Simon is already brewing up a punishment.

“Come out, love.”

You scoot further away. “Your tone is too neutral, Simon.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Is it?”

“I’m calm.”

You’re nearly out the other end.

“I’ll chase you,” he smirks.

You make a run for it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“I’m in here, Kyle,” you call out as you slide yourself beneath the bed.

You wiggle around until you’re hidden, waiting for him to follow your voice. You hear his footfalls before he appears.

“I thought we—” He comes to a stop just inside the door. “Babe?” A pause, and then he says your name. Then, softly, “where are you hiding?”

As he steps into the room, and heads for the bathroom, his feet pass by your hiding spot. This is your only opportunity before he figures out that you’re beneath the bed.

You reach out, just brushing your fingertips against him, then retreat.

“Fucking hell!” he shouts, stumbling backward.

You do it again, and this time he growls your name. Taking a step back, Kyle drops onto his stomach, gaze narrowed as it focuses on you.

“Really?” he asks, deadpan.

“I found it hilarious,” you reply.

Kyle sighs and shakes his head. “Move over.”

“What?”

Shoving himself underneath, Kyle drags himself across the floor until you’re shoulder to shoulder under the bed.

“Bloody filthy down here,” observes Kyle. “Needs a good dusting.” He winks. “Got a spider in your hair, love.”

“I regret this so much,” you whisper.

[cherie-doll]

COD men and they've accidentally hurt their SO? Either physically (like they accidentally stepped on their foot) or misspoke and accidentally insulted their SO?

i would like to apologize for how long it's taking me to get through asks and just updating in general, i wanna SCREAMMM

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: They Accidentally Hurt You

≻ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He came back home tired and so out of his mind he wasn't really giving you much attention, normally he would be basking in your presence quietly, having you sitting on his lap as he was just glad to be back with you

This time however, it seemed like he wasn't really taking you into account when he didn't listen to what you were saying, greeted you only with a small kiss and went straight to bed, you were left feeling hurt because you had told him you had food ready for him and he didn't seem to hear you and went to sleep

Swallowing your feelings, you went to go clean up and put away his boots left by the door and his other belongings

It wasn't until tomorrow that he noticed you were too quiet and upon realizing what he did apologized for accidentally pushing you away, he knew that him being tired wasn't going to cut it for hurting you, he should've valued what you had prepared for him and so he wouldn't stop telling you how good of a partner you are and how lucky he was to have someone like you he could come home to

Ghost

You're used to his personality and though he may seem a little distant at times it's not because he doesn't love you or you're growing apart, it's just because he still needs time to himself, he enjoys having alone time

Still, because of what he's gone through, although he's put most of it behind and in the past it resurfaces at times, it takes him by surprise too when he unintentionally pulls back harshly against your outstretched hand placed on his arm, it was meant to be comforting but it took you by surprise

His eyes widened seeing your hurt expression and how quickly you tried to hide it as your hand retreat and you turning to leave, without really thinking, he held you back by your arm and without so much as a word leaving his lips, asked you to stay next to him

He did need you, and he had to learn some way or another that he needed to stop preventing the people who cared for him from being there for him at his worst and ugliest moments, it was sort of an apology

Soap

You two play fight so much that it's not unusual for one of you to get hurt during it, once he managed to actually hurt your arm when trying to wrestle you, after taking you to the doctor and being told you had to rest that arm, he had to remind himself every so often that you were hurt and he couldn't play rough

You've rarely managed to hurt him seriously so he forgets rather quickly about your injury and accidentally hurts that same arm again when wanting to pull you towards him, saw you wince in pain and remembered

Apologized like a million times and even offered to "kiss the pain away" by placing little kisses all over your arm and face too, you could only sit there and let him kiss to his heart's content until the guilt in him eased up a bit

Decided it'd be better to not play roughly with you anymore, even after you got better he didn't initiate it anymore unless you did and even then he always let you have the upper hand, he preferred you winning and poking at him rather than making you get hurt again because of his playfulness

Gaz

He's so gentle and careful around you to make sure he doesn't misspeak or hurt you that you wonder how he ever made it in his line of work, he's like an angel for you whereas with anyone else he doesn't like he'll ignore

So, imagine the shame he feels for making you cry, he caught you eating a whole jar of nutella with bread late at night in the pantry and when he told you that it'd be better to stop before it made you feel sick, you burst out in tears, taken aback, he didn't know what to do

He hadn't ever gotten this reaction from you over something so small, turns out you had just started your period and eating the pain of cramps away was the comfort you needed, ofc once he figured that out he kept going "oh, im sorry sweetheart, so sorry my love" as many times as he needed until you calmed down

He'd rather die than ever even think of making you get so upset you cry, he made sure you were okay after that and even offered to go buy anything else you needed or wanted

Roach

I feel like it'd be very difficult for this guy to hurt you seriously to the point you're in tears, instead he might apologize for anything that MIGHT hurt you, whether that be physically or emotionally

Mostly emotionally though, he's afraid that something he says might sound wrong simply because when he's around you he has no filter, but that might have only been in the first stages of your relationship when he was still somewhat insecure around you and would apologize or ask before doing anything

Now, you two are so in sync with one another's thoughts that it's hard to misspeak or be misunderstood, that's the beauty of your relationship :)

If anything you might have more slip ups than he does

Alejandro

Might accidentally hurt you with too much affection, is that a thing? More like overloading you with it

Yes, he looks for any opportunity to show you his love, for example, every morning that he's home he likes to surprise you with breakfast, he even likes to feed you

Except once, he didn't know how hot the food still was and when he scooped it up to place it into your mouth you burned yourself, he jumped and gave you water to get over the painful sensation that sort of ruined your taste that day

You forgave him because he was only trying to be a sweet bf :( by making you a breakfast you could look forward to trying but instead you didn't enjoy it properly because he didn't think to blow on your food before making you taste it

Rudy

Rodolfo has the habit of silently appearing behind you while you're getting ready in front of the mirror, he doesn't do it to scare you he just likes watching you do your routine

It's usually a problem at night though... when it's dark and you only like having one light on to be able to see your face and so the rest around you is darkness and out of that darkness a face emerges and it nearly scares you to death

You usually flinch and accidentally hit your hand or arm against the counter or kitchen sink, this time you hit your elbow on the corner of the counter and you could only suffer silently in pain as he held your arm and stuttered over his words trying to apologize

He'll have to be more careful about approaching you from behind since you're often in your own world and don't see him coming lol

Phillip Graves

Whenever he's doing some sort of job around the house that requires the use of tools like a hammer, nails or a power drill, he always warns you beforehand and tells you stay away, but he has the habit of discarding unused nails on the ground and then forgetting where he's dropped them

It's obvious someone was going to step on one and get hurt eventually, he assumed he had cleaned up all them though, and even if you had shoes on it would still have gone through your shoe sole and pierced into your skin

As soon as he heard you gasp in pain he got off the ladder so fast he nearly fell off and rushed to you, he cursed himself for being so careless, this wasn't a job site, he had to be careful

He cleaned you up pretty well but still took you to the doctor's just in case, those nails he used were found in the shed and he didn't want to take any chances, but he made sure to be cautious when working inside the house

Makarov

Was trying to teach you how you'd react in a situation where you needed to defend yourself, he wanted to teach you to be able to handle anything in case something prevented him from being there to protect you, so this simulation was supposed to prepare you

He accidentally used too much force when you weren't prepared and elbowed you in the chest, it knocked the wind out of you and had you doubling over in pain, he panicked and held you by your shoulders while you caught your breath, his heart nearly stopped seeing your eyes widen when he hit you

He made sure you were okay and decided to leave it at that for the day, he insisted you sit for a while until you caught your breath, but it got him thinking what you'd do if someone else who wasn't him hurt you because they actually had bad intentions, he wouldn't always be there to soothe your pain

All this ran through his mind as you repeatedly called out to him while he rubbed your shoulders on the couch

Keegan

You two often start playful arguments which can and sometimes do escalate into full-blown verbal arguments, it's a strange way both of you can say whatever is needed to be said and also blow off some steam

Once, when an argument did get too heated, he accidentally dropped a plate and it shattered, the tiny fragments flying everywhere, some of which were embedded into your skin, you screamed in pain and that's when he stopped

He was by your side in an instant, forgetting his anger and instead worrying about you, he kept cursing under his breath and believed it was his fault for getting too upset, you didn't deserve to get hurt, he didn't meant for it to happen

He bit his lip and kept quiet as he worked to get all the pieces out and clean you as best as he could, afterwards he mumbled an apology and instead took you to bed where he let you decide whether you wanted to let him sleep beside you too or if you were still mad you'd rather him take the couch in the living room

König

He can't help it, it's not his intention to hurt you, but he forgets how big he is sometimes when wanting to show you affection, especially when he's overjoyed to see you

And it's not like him to warn you in advance so you'll just turn around to see this huge blurb coming at you and you barely have time to brace yourself, sometimes it leads to you accidentally hitting your head on something or feeling sore from the weight of him on top of you, and he looks so comfortable resting on top of you that you feel bad when you have to tell him to move

Raises his head and looks at you in confusion, tilting as he stares at you that it makes you want to shut up and just let your entire body go numb

But it's like his brain fully loads and the realization that he's crushing you sets in he gets off of you so quickly and anxiously asks if he hurt you, won't stop checking you over until you laugh and say that you're fine, then lies at the foot of the bed like a dog now with the worry always in the back of his head as a reminder to be more careful

Horangi

Like his callsign indicates, he pretends to be a tiger sneaking up behind you at times, he loves seeing your reaction when you're distracted on your phone or didn't know Horangi was even home

It's quite a surprise when you're at piece, folding laundry or tidying up and you feel big hands wrapping around you from behind and a deep voice smugly going "boo"

You dropped the laundry basket on your feet and it hurt your toes, if it weren't for Horangi being behind you, he would've also been hopping around in pain

He found it amusing and laughed but helped you pick up the laundry that was scattered on the floor as a way of him making it up to you

And you'll get back at him soon...

Nikto

You're sort of used to him being a little rough with you but he still forgets just how big and heavy his hands really are, like he'll want to tap your shoulder or back and accidentally lay his hand with too much force on you that it feels like a heavy blow

He doesn't notice until you react and then he's like "??", visibly confused because he doesn't know what happened and it's not until you tell him that he will quietly apologize

He doesn't realize that when he's home he can relax on his grip or hold, and it often happens when he's sleeping in bed with you, he still has the habit of when he's deployed to have a big pillow he can just hold close to him, drape a leg over or just smush his face in, and when he's home that pillow becomes... you

The desperation that you awaken with when you feel as if you were suffocating and can't move, you practically have to yell for him to wake up from his deep sleep and ease his grip, you sit up and put an actual pillow in your place and he just goes right back to sleep, doesn't even realize what he's done lol

[raylynnn]

“Fuck- I forgot to lock the door..”

Featuring mha boys: Katsuki, Eijro, Hanta, Kaminari, and Izuku.

Scenario (head-cannon) : basically mha boys and how they would react to being caught being intimate with the so.

Katsuki Bakugo:

• at first yall are just chilling in his dorm, watching some lame movie (in his opinion) that you put on. He couldn’t take this sappy romance shit movie anymore but knew you wouldn’t turn it off. So what else could he do but distract you.

•it started with little neck kisses which led into sloppy open mouth kissed that trailed from you lips to your collar bone. “Fuck baby. Cmon take this off for me.” He demanded lifting the hem of your shirt as he held you in his lap. You were both now topples. “So fucking pretty..” he mumbled into your breast as he nibbled and sucked. But as he propped the other into his mouth, you both heard the door open.

• “Hey man, me and the others are play COD. You finna join-“ said Kiri as he stopped in his tracks, eyes bugging out of head at the scene. You both froze as katsuki quickly turned your body away from the red head. “Fuck! Get out-“ but before Bakugo could even try to demand Kiri out the room kiri was already turning on his heel, as apology’s spilt from his mouth like a water fountain.

• “fuck I’m sorry- god fuck.” Katsuki mumbled obviously pissed and embarrassed. “I should’ve locked the door-“ before Katsuki could continue his apology’s you shut him up with a kiss. “Ok well let’s do that now..cause I still need you..” you said shyly as you twiddled your thumbs while still in his lap.

•all he did was grin before his mouth was back on yours. Let’s just say Kiri knows to knock like a pro now.

Eijro Kirishima:

•your under him as he plowed into you like a dog. Your legs hooked over his shoulders as he gripped you by the calf’s of your leg for support rutting into you. “F-fuck..” he groaned biting his lip back. “All this for me hon?” He said as he kissed your calf watching your eyes roll back into your head.

• “yes- yes Kiri..” you whimpered as your reached out for his hand. The car rocked slowly as kiri’s moves were slow but rough and powerful. “I love you- love you so much” you said in between broken moans and whimpers.

• “fuck baby..yeah I love you more baby your so- so cute..” as you both were too lost in the pleasure you heard a knock on the window. Y’all both stopped quickly sitting up as Kiri covered you with his wrinkled shirt that the two of you discarded on the floor.

• “dammit.” He muttered as he rolled down the window slightly careful to not reveal you. “What- oh my go-“ Kiri said before quickly rolling up the window. “What! What is it-“ you asked frantic since Kiri seemed all of sudden embarrassed and almost scared. “Quick get your clothes on- now” kiri barked like an order which was really unlike him.

• you did as he said shimming your clothes on as quickly as you could before Kiri rolled down the window again. “You two finished..?” A familiar voice called out. And suddenly you freeze as the realization hit. “Don’t tell me-“ you spoke before eyes peered through. “Azawia- sensei I-I can explain-“ said Kiri as he zipped up his pants. “Uh huh..look I just assumed you- were um just passed curfew..” he said clearly uncomfortable. “Look I won’t bring this up..if you don’t. I don’t want to have this conversation anymore then you do..” he said as he rubbed his temples.

• “yeah- of course…” Kiri mumbled clearly embarrassed. Soon enough Azawia walked off and kiri rolled the window back up. You gave Kiri a knowing look. “Sooo..wanna continue this in your room..” Kiri shook his head laughing slightly as he kissed the shell of your ear, “your crazy y/n” he said as he helped put the rest of your clothes back on as he returned yoh back to your dorm.

Hanta sero:

• “b-baby! T-too much!!” You whined into the pillow as sero taped your arms and wrists behind your back. “Fucking slut..I can feel you clenching when I tie the bind tighter.” He spat like venom as he rutted into you.

•you had hearts in your eyes as you couldn’t help but smile at the amazing feeling of being so full. He had you face first into the mattress as he propped your ass up hitting that perfect gummy spot in your walls. “Yeah? That feel good mamas?” He whispered into your ear. “Yes- feels so g-good!” You don’t even know how it happened. Maybe y’all were just too rough and moved too much. But somhow you ended up on seros phone and touched somthing- some button. And of fucking corse ended up calling kaminari.

• “yo what’s up man?” Called out kaminari “hello? Dude?” He said confused.

“Agh- oh fuck right there..”

“Yes- yes omg YES!”

“B-baby baby!! Oh my god..cmon milk me baby-“

“Harder- fuck me harder!”

Denki just set the phone down on his lap as he just stared off into space before he hung up.

• the next morning you came downstairs in seros shirt as you sat down in the chair as sero came around putting his hand on the small of your back as he leaned around to kiss you. Denki sat at the other end as he remembered last night’s call. “Hey man you ok? You look bothered..?” Called out sero.

•”no..no why would I be bothered” said Denki obviously sarcastic. You both raised your eyebrows in confusion before kaminari put his phone on the table revealing the call at 9:44 remembering that yalls “activity’s” resulted around that hour.

• “oh my- did I.. did we call-?” You asked your face going pale as sero just froze. “Yes. Yes you did.” He said stern.

•all 3 of you had similar reactions and all wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

Denki kaminari:

• he had been on that stupid game forever now. You two were supposed to hang out and stuff but nooo “5 more minutes” he said. 30 minutes ago. You were fed up. As you should be and what other way to make him feel sorry than stripping him of his dignity and pants.

• “f-fuck I need a power up g-guys..” he grunted as you rolled your tongue over his tip your other hand stroking his base. He was out of breath panting and sweat heading at his brow. “Cmon Kami lock in- you good bro?” Questioned Kiri.

• “Y-yeah I’m fine..” denki said biting back his lip as he had a death grip on his controller but you wanted to punish him for not giving you any attention. So as expected you took your other hand using both hands stroking his base as you kept his tip busy with your mouth.

• he was losing it. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up. He set the controller down harshly as he put a hand in your hair. “Fucking- brat..” he mumbled forgetting Kiri was on the other line. Soon enough he was thrusting his hips up into your mouth making your jaw sore.

• “you guys are some freaks..” Kiri mumbled into his mic before logging off chuckling slightly at his friends freaky and brave actions. Denki glared at you. “You wanted my attention that badly huh?” He said before picking you before setting you in the chair before he was on his knees before you already taking your panties off with his teeth.

Izuku midoryia:

• “fuck izu-“ you moaned out into the air as he had a death grip on your ass as he pushed you forward and back against his face. You used him as some chair almost. And he was loving every fucking bit. Small groans and grunts could be heard as he fucked you sloppy with his tongue.

• you gripped him by the hair rocking your hips against his lips chasing that high. Izuku was such a yearner he had no shame making noise and being vocal and loving you outloud.

•you two must of been feeling good to not hear the door knob jingle and twist. And it’s not like izuku planned on stopping anytime soon either. “God princess- you taste so good” he moaned into your heat.

• izuku shared an apartment with Katsuki and the two were pretty good friends now. As katsuki puts his keys on the hook he walked towards izukus room opening the door to let him know he had dinner. “Nerd I have dinner, come eat- oh shit” he said as his eyes widened. His eyes resting on the absolute fucked scene infront of him. You turned around being the first to catch on as you saw a pair of deep red eyes locked on the scene between you and the green haired absolute MUNCH below you.

• “IZUKU-“ you called out trying to hop off his tongue before he pulled you back down totally unaware of the situation. “F-fuck damnit-“ katsuki said before he tried to bolt out of there. Izuku finally looked up afraid he hurt you or something. “What is it baby? KACHAN?-“

•katsuki was so scared he and izuku were close but he didn’t want to feel like a creep for seeing izukus girl like that. Even though katsuki could be a hothead he knew to knock but him and izuku were at the point were they would both just walk in. But things were different now that izuku had a girlfriend.

• when the two of you both got decent. Katsuki was grabbing his keys before the two of you stopped him. Katsuki felt his stomach drop when he made eye contact with the two of you. “Katsuki- wait!” You said before you made contact with the clearly red and bothered blonde. You couldn’t help but laugh at how clearly ashamed he was. Soon enough Izuku started laughing slightly before Katsuki glared at the two of you.

• “fuck..I thought y’all were gonna hunt me down” the 3 of you laughed before katsuki messed up your hair playfully. “Fucking nerds..” he said before he went off to plating the food.

❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

AN: Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this! I know some of it is unrealistic but it’s just head cannons (sort of?) if y’all want more characters to this or other scenarios feel free to leave requests!! Also TYSM for blowing up my last post I wasn’t expecting that many likes! Tysm for all the support!

Go check out my other stories!!💕

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Shelter - 1

Summary: You save Soap's life. It might have ruined yours. But now you're stuck with the 141 and the man named Ghost won't stop looking at you. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley/F!Reader (No Y/N) Warnings For This Chapter: Canon typical violence, my attempt at writing Soap's accent, soft Simon, military inaccuracies, canon divergence right off the bat.

A/N: My first COD fic! I hope you guys like it. It will be a slow burn because Reader needs a hug and therapy and Simon is awkward but also needs a hug. Enjoy!

This had been your first vacation in ten years. Ten. You had wanted to wander around London, see the sites, eat pub food, try to see how much the city had changed since you had last visited, ages ago when you had a summer internship at the British Museum. And now you were bleeding out on this shitty, dirty floor. There was shouting somewhere to your left as you hazily stared up at the dark ceiling.

You had made it three days before some guy pulled you off the sidewalk and shoved you into the back of a van. There had been a sharp pain in your neck before the dark came. When you came to, your hands had been tied and you were in the belly of an abandoned tube station, if you were guessing. Your captors were speaking Russian—rapidfire and stilted, but you did recognize some of it. Most of it. Maybe. If your undergraduate studies were still holding up. But you did know something for sure: you were curled up and hiding near a bomb. To keep your mind from wandering about when you were going to be the next hostage shot or when the bomb would explode, you started repeating whatever you heard to yourself, quiet and low. Cities, people’s names, shipments, shipments, shipments. You hadn’t done this in years, your therapist would have a field day, but this was better than the waiting. This was better than the pleading your fellow hostages were doing, begging for their lives.

You kept repeating what you learned. More shipments. More cities.

An immeasurable amount of time dragged on; how many days and nights passed, you couldn’t tell, but you knew exactly how many other hostages your kidnappers had killed before you were the only one left. And you weren’t entirely sure if it was because they had other plans for you or if they had actually forgotten you were there, huddled near the bomb. Perhaps you had taken the saying, “the closer we are to danger, the further we are from harm,” too seriously.

But it mattered little when the fighting started and a too warm hand clapped on your arm. And then the brightest pair of blue eyes were staring at you. The man had the most ridiculous mohawk you’d ever seen but you couldn’t really tell him that, not when he was pressing a finger to his lips. A quick glance down showed his UK flag patch on his vest and you felt the smallest bit of tension slip from your shoulders.

“I’ma get ye outta here, lass,” he said, Scottish brogue winding through your ears.

You only nodded and let him move you into a crouched position. He and another man in a ridiculous hat worked on defusing the bomb, working in tandem on either side as your eyes swept toward the door. You were nearly there. Nearly free.

You were going to get out of here. You were going to live. You were going to see your sister and her baby. You-

-Came to a hard stop when the shooting started.

You curled into a ball behind the bomb as the shouting started but then you heard that ridiculous Scottish accent again. And yes, it was stupid. But you had always been a little stupid. You were on your feet again, hands still tied in front of you, before you could think of anything else to do and ran, shoulder down into the man tussling with the Scot and another man in the dumbest hat you’d ever seen. The man with the gun let out a wet ‘oof’ when your shoulder connected with his side and you both fell to the dirtied floor. You hadn’t even heard the gun go off.

Hadn’t felt anything but a heat blooming across your shoulder.

And then your knees buckled. “Oh.”

A quick glance to the left saw your once white shirt now a dark crimson. Pity. You’d liked this top. Your blood was roaring in your ears but you did remember someone saying the bomb was defused…that was good. Great. Wonderful.

A choked gasp was torn from your throat when large hands clamped over your shoulder and you saw those blue eyes again. “Now, why’d ye go and do that? Made a mess, ye did.”

“Next time,” you ground out between clenched teeth, “I’ll let you get shot.” Dark dots were starting to cloud your vision even as the grip on your shoulder grew tighter. You vaguely heard him shouting for someone to throw him something before he turned back to you. He was bleeding, too, crimson streaked across his face and neck. More of it slithered down his arm.

“We’ll get this cleaned up. Cannae have a bonnie lass bleedin’ out in a place like this.”

And you had to smile. You did, even if you looked absolutely insane, because this was probably the first time in over a decade that someone was nice to you and you had been shot.

And then the Grim Reaper loomed over you, skull bright as he blotted out the light above him.

“Fuck.” The word slurred on your heavy tongue. “Guess I’m dead, then.” The ridiculousness of the situation was not lost on you, even as the light faded and you were out cold.

Your eyes opened slowly, weighed down and scratchy. It took a moment for you to realize you were in a hospital room, small, stuffy, and a worn shade of off-white. Uncoordinated fingers plucked at the thin, bleach-stiff sheets across your hips before you tugged at the neckline of the light blue hospital gown and frowned at the large dressing taped over your shoulder. A single wiggle against the flat pillow let you know you had a matching one on your back. Wonderful.

Well, at least you weren’t dead?

The door opened and a bespectacled man popped his head in. His bright eyes connected with yours for just a moment before the door snapped shut again.

What just happened?

You got your answer a handful of minutes later when your tiny room was filled with several more people, doctors and nurses checking you over and a woman—Laswell, you think she said her name was—staring at you from her place in the corner. She was biding her time, you knew that. Her American drawl had thrown you for just a moment, a stark contrast to the English accents coming at you from all directions. You tried to keep up with all the information they tossed at you, about your stitches, the physical therapy you’d need, how to keep movement to a minimum before helping you into a sling to keep your arm immobilized. It went on and on. The pain meds were keeping you from scratching at your shoulder but it did feel a little like your brain was swimming through your skull.

And three of them said the same thing: “You’re lucky you’re alive. It nearly nicked your subclavian artery and you would have bled out.”

Comforting.

And through it all, Laswell was quiet but when she pushed off the wall, the group of medical professionals dispersed.

“You’ve been through a lot.”

You said nothing as she stepped closer and set a manilla envelope on your bedside.

Her eyes darted to the envelope for a moment, obviously expecting you to take it but she continued on, unperturbed for now, when you did not. “From what I understand, you saved a man’s life and gave them an opening to be able to diffuse the bomb. I would actually say that all of London owes you their gratitude.”

“I doubt I’ll get it though, right?”

Laswell smiled. “Good. You’re smart.” But she still tapped at the folder again.

Fine. You picked up the folder and undid the thin rope closure as best you could with one hand and tipped it open across your lap, spilling paper and pictures across the blanket. One was of the man with the mohawk. And then… “Wait. He’s real?” You plucked one of the pictures up and waved it around like a flag. “I thought he was the Grim Reaper.” A man in a skull mask was staring back at you, large and hulking, and draped entirely in black aside from the SAS patch in the middle of his vest.

“You wouldn’t be the first to think that. But probably the only one to see him like that and live to tell anyone about it.”

Again, so comforting.

You flipped the picture over to see Ghost written in neat, small letters across the bottom. What kind of name was Ghost? He wasn’t a ghost. You flipped over a handful of the other pictures and learned the mohawk belonged to “Soap.” “Gaz” and “Price” soon followed—ah, he was the one with the ridiculous hat. But it was the last picture that had your heart stalling.

Vladimir Makarov was written in that same, small script.

“He’s dead, right?” Your voice shook as you stared down at the picture. “Tell me he’s dead.”

Laswell’s measured silence was all you needed before you hurriedly stuffed the photos and paper back into the folder.

“My flight back to Chicago is leaving on the tenth. What day is it?” You asked, tossing the folder to the foot of the bed. The simple motion had your other shoulder protesting, heat rippling across your chest and down your spine.

“It’s the ninth.”

Relief flooded through you. This would be over soon and you were never going to take another vacation, no matter what your sister told you. “Great. I’ll be out of the country in a couple of hours. Do I need to sign something or-”

Laswell frowned and took a few steps toward you and tension once again wound itself through your spine with each of them. “I don’t think you understand. Makarov’s plan didn’t work because of you-”

“Debatable.”

“-and you saved one of the men who Makarov has a personal vendetta against.”

The heart rate monitor was now leaping all over the place, beeping a sharp staccato into the tense air. You didn’t like this. You didn’t like this at all. “So? Makarov doesn’t know who I am. One of his lackeys grabbed me. He barely saw me.” You had been one of many, another faceless victim to his whims.

But Laswell shook her head. “I guarantee it; he will not forget you.”

Funny. You’d been forgotten by almost everyone else and you were apparently unmissable to a psychopath. “I am supposed to be going home. I want to go home.”

She took another step. “I’m afraid that until Makarov is in custody, it is safer for you to stay-”

“Am I being arrested?” You bit out.

“No.”

“Then I’m free to go.”

Laswell’s lips rolled into her mouth for a moment. “No.”

Traitorous tears stung at your ears. Stupid, so stupid. You hadn’t cried in front of someone else in decades. Tears didn’t help with anything and here you were, crying in a hospital bed in front of a stranger. “I need to go home.”

Another step and she looked down at you, eyes just shy of pitying. “You’ll be dead before you get off the plane.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” She took the folder and opened it again, pulling out one of the papers you hadn’t read and another picture. She set both on your leg with a sigh. “You were taken out of London when you were stable enough to move.”

The next breath stalled in your lungs. “What?”

“Makarov has a long reach. You were wrapped up in it the moment you saved Soap. The hospital room in London that simply had your name on the door was raided. They killed a nurse.” Every new bit of information was a punch to the stomach, leaving you wheezing for breath and throat aching. “Makarov doesn’t do half measures. And he’s in the wind right now and staying quiet since his plan for London failed.”

Something you hadn’t touched in years started to bubble beneath your skin. A rage you hated. The rage that had kept you alive as a kid. “Then do your fucking job and get him. I’m going home.”

“Any word? Movement?” Gaz asked as Simon looked over the print outs of intel and loops of camera footage from the tunnels where Makarov could have fled.

“Nothing.”

Nothing.

Nothing.

He hated it. He hated not knowing.

There were leads, of course. Strings to be pulled on to see where they could go.

But Makarov was in the wind. And every night, he heard the woman on the other side of the thin wall cry whenever she thought no one would hear.

You did not go home. Instead, you were bustled out of the makeshift hospital room and into yet another infuriatingly beige room, your shoulder smarting with the movement even with the sling. At least the baggy sweats they’d let you wear were comfortable. You recognized Soap as Laswell had you sit in a cold metal chair on one side of the table.

“Good ta see ye up and about, lass,” Soap said. The stitches across his face were mostly covered by butterfly bandages that crinkled when he smiled at you. He then pointed at his own sling, barely holding his bulky arm up. “We match.”

You almost returned the smile. Almost. “Glad you’re not dead, too, I guess.”

“I wanted to get a look at ye,” Soap said. “Properly thank ye fer saving my life.”

Your mouth twitched into a small smile. “I think it was a mutual saving. You defuse a bomb, I keep you from getting your brains blown out. We can call it even.”

He laughed, hearty and jovial. “Ye’re tough. That’s good. Ye’ll need it.”

He was trying to be nice to you, you knew that. He seemed nice. Really! But you still felt the snark and sarcasm trying to climb its way out of your throat. You bit it back, probably grimacing the entire time. “I’m not the one shipping off to Kastovia.”

The smile slipped from Soap’s face. “What?”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to read his expression. “I assumed that was where you were going? The guys in the tunnels mentioned it a couple of times.”

“You speak Russian?” Laswell cut in.

What was this line of questioning? You turned as best you could to look at her. “Yeah, sorta. I took a few classes in undergrad.”

“And you didn’t think to mention you overheard anything while you were held captive?”

“You’re CIA. He’s SAS,” you said, hooking a thumb over your shoulder to point at Soap. Your stitches protested immediately, knocking the wind from your lungs for a moment. “I kinda figured you guys had all the information you could get from that shitshow.”

Soap rose from his seat and left the room without a look back as Laswell rounded the table to stare down at you. “You had information and didn’t share it. You know how that looks.”

“I was shot. Did you forget that?” You bit back. “Then you tell me I can’t go home. What was I supposed to do? When was I supposed to offer up any of this? When I was unconscious?”

Laswell’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “You don’t trust me.”

The scoff tore itself out of your throat before you could even try to stop it. Scoffing at a CIA agent probably wasn’t your smartest move, but, again, you knew you were kinda stupid. “Wow. Look at you. That scary CIA training is paying off, huh? Love to see my tax dollars hard at work.”

The door opened again and Ghost walked in, shoulders nearly brushing each edge of the frame.

Your entire body tensed as he quietly neared the table and took the seat Soap had vacated. Laswell nodded at him and he tipped the point of his cloth-covered chin. And then she was gone with a snap of the door behind her. You pulled your gaze back to the man…the behemoth…in front of you. His mask was no less unnerving than it had been in the tunnel when you thought he was the Grim Reaper coming to usher your soul into the ether.

But this close you could see the dark honey of his eyes and that turned something else in the dark shadows of your chest.

And you knew you couldn’t be afraid. Not now.

“Ask me anything,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. But what if they didn’t believe you? What if he really would be the last face you saw, like you had believed in the tunnel? “I’ve nothing to hide.”

He huffed. If it were anyone else, you might have guessed it was a laugh. His eyes, hooded and dark, dragged over you. “We’ll see.” In one swift movement, he placed a handgun on the table and then reached across to grab your uninjured arm. He pulled it toward him before you could even think of pulling back. He twisted his grip on your wrist to have your palm up and only then did he release you.

You knew better than to retreat. You needed them to believe you—you were the victim in all of this. You. Not them. You. If you had to sit here with the Grim Reaper to prove it, you would. But it was when he tugged the glove from one of his hands that you felt your next breath stutter behind your teeth. And you were sure he felt it when he pressed the tips of his fingers against the delicate skin of your wrist’s underbelly.

He was warm. Solid. And oh god were you really this touch starved? That the man tasked with interrogating you—to make sure you weren’t a terrorist—was making you burn all over like a schoolgirl? It didn’t help that you felt his broad legs on either side of yours beneath the table.

Get it together.

He asks you questions and you answer. Truthfully. You listed all the places you’d heard, names you could decipher, cargo, shipments, everything. Anything.

Ghost listened to it all with that same hooded stare anchored on your face. Someone else probably would have squirmed under his gaze but you didn’t. If anything, his immovable presence was weirdly comforting. What was wrong with you?

And when you were done, when you had exhausted any and every bit of information you thought you had squirreled away from your time in the tunnel, the man in front of you simply drummed his fingers against your pulse and stood, putting his gun back in its holster and pulling his glove back on.

Funny, you hadn’t realized there were more bones stitched on them, too. At least he was consistent.

He strode toward the door and then turned back to stare at you again, unblinking. “Stay put.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly allowed to leave.”

His dark eyes narrowed for a moment and he huffed. Was it a laugh? You didn’t know, but you wanted it to be. But he left the room before you could ask.

It had been a risk, he knew, and had done it anyway. She could have been a spy, a trained one, good at deception and emitting pity. But he had felt her heartbeat skitter beneath his fingers, an impromptu lie detector. Simon knew she was being truthful. An open book.

A rare thing in times like these.

Well, open enough for him to believe her answers and her muttered instance that she wasn’t “some sort of Russian plant” because she wasn’t “dumb enough to be a criminal.” She was…something else. Simon wasn’t quite sure what that something was, but he knew that he thought of the curve of her bottom lip when he left the room and reported what he learned to Laswell and Price.

The pair looked at each other, matching looks of knowing on their faces. Her knowing about Kastovia hadn’t been expected but it didn’t seem like she knew that they (Gaz and Price) had already gone and had been led on an infuriating game of hide-and-seek with the transport of the Sarin gas. If the bird had been awake (or more willing to share what she’d heard before), they would have been back on base days earlier because it had been exactly where she’d said they would be.

“We need to keep this quiet. Makarov already knows she’s alive and at least suspects that she heard something. He wouldn’t’ve sent his men to the hospital if he didn’t.” Laswell scratched at her chin. “If any more of her intel pays off, this could be invaluable.”

The two continued, looking over the points Simon had written down after leaving that tiny room. And there had been shipments and their locations, names of people who probably would receive them, and then targets. Possibly. It was so much more than what they’d had when Makarov had vanished into the belly of the tunnel.

“She’s given us gold.”

“Or an unpinned grenade.” Laswell sighed and flipped through the pages again, handing one to Price and they spoke again in low tones. Simon listened, as he always did. They would still be sent out, following those breadcrumbs, with glowing red letters.

Something twisted in Simon’s chest, behind the crooked and dark ribs, and he thought of that curve of her bottom lip. “What happens to ‘er?”

You didn’t mind paperwork. Not really. Was it your favorite thing? No. But it was a fact of life that paperwork was inevitable. You almost liked that most of it was the same: sign here, date here, birthdate here. Easy. Simple. Unchanging.

But you weren’t entirely in love with how you knew you were basically signing your life away as Soap stood sentinel in the corner, his matching sling still around his bulging arm. They’d already “handled” your job, telling your supervisor that you had been injured and would be taking a leave of absence from work.

They promptly fired you.

Laswell winced at that and then said that “they” would take care of it. Who “they” were, you didn’t know and didn’t have the wherewithal to ask at the moment. But she inferred that your bills would be paid by someone else so you didn’t really care. Whatever. You’d been an archivist at one of the many museums in Chicago, cataloging anything and everything that came in. It had been good work, to be fair. You were actually using your degrees and the fact that they had you working overnight was almost a perk. It was nice to not have to worry about coworkers’ feelings or them microwaving fish in the communal microwave when you were trying to work.

But…whatever. It was fine. This was…fine.

You were given three meals a day and sometimes a snack. Tea in the early afternoon, much to your delight. You had a warm bed. Things could be worse.

Whenever the doctors or nurses would come in and check on your stitches and your range of movement, he—Ghost—would just be there. In the background. Waiting. Silent and unmoving.

And the painkillers you were given must’ve been some good stuff because you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Or maybe his unhurried gaze was weirdly comforting. Knowing he was there, was always going to be there, was nice. A weird constant in the upheaval of your life. (And maybe you should call up your therapist after you finally get home.)

You signed your name on the last paper and then managed to stack everything neatly with one arm before handing it to Soap who took it with a small smile. “Ye’re handling this well.”

“Yeah.” Been through worse, is what you could have said. But worse was debatable. At least in some regard. You could handle being fired. You had savings. You could find another job. Your sister always said you had the uncanny ability to land on your feet. You’d let her keep that assumption. It wouldn’t be the first one she’d made about you. “Can I make a phone call now?”

Soap tapped a finger against the papers and his blue eyes were full of pity. You almost hated it. “I’ll ask Laswell.”

Well, that wasn’t a firm no, at least.

It had been a few days since your interrogation with Ghost. You had deduced that you were on a military base of some sort, with the people walking by in uniform and the staccato of gun shots at exactly eight o’clock in the morning, every morning. Probably a firing range. While you weren’t allowed out of your beige hospital room, they were kind enough to bring you a few very well worn novels to help pass the time. Again…it was fine.

The door opened a few minutes later and Ghost and Laswell walked in, a large black brick looking contraption tucked beneath Laswell’s arm. Your heart stuttered for just a moment. A satellite phone?

“You need to understand that anyone you call could be in danger. Used against you.”

The next breath rattled behind your teeth. You had expected that. You knew that. But your sister deserved at least something. “Did you see her in my file?”

“Who?”

“My sister.”

Laswell’s answering quiet was all you needed. Good.

“I’ll keep it quick,” you said, stretching out your good arm toward the phone. “Promise.”

“Any funny business-”

“I’ll expect a bullet between the eyes. Yeah, sure. Can I please have the phone?”

Ghost made that huffing sound again and you felt the corners of your mouth push into a twitching smile for just a heartbeat to two. The phone was weighty in your palm as you plugged in the number and held it up to your ear. It rang twice before… “Hello?”

“Hey, Kirby.”

There was an answering giggle and it shifted a weight on your shoulders. “Hey stranger! I thought you were living it up in London for a few days more? Thought you were gonna call me when you were home.”

“Oh, um. So there’s been a change of plans. I’m gonna stay for a little longer. I’ve been asked to consult at one of the archives here.”

Kirby hummed, crackling the line. “Consult. You’re so important. That mean you left-”

“They fired me, actually.”

She gasped. You imagined her clutching her phone tighter, placing another hand over her heart. She was always so delicate. Outraged on your behalf, too. “No!”

“Yeah. But it’s okay. You said I needed a new job anyway.” You shut your eyes, feeling them burn with tears. Lying to her didn’t feel right. She was the only person in the world you trusted.

“They were awful to you. But, you always land on your feet, don’t you?”

You smiled despite it all, wobbly and crooked. God, you missed her. “I try. But I didn’t want you to worry if you didn’t hear from me for a bit as I get settled here.”

Kirby laughed. “You’re the worrier, not me.”

“That’s true.” You were. And even know, with a bullet wound and a supposed bounty on your head, you worried about your little sister. You might worry about her forever, actually.

“You’ll still be able to make it to the delivery, right?” The smallest bit of trepidation dipped into the syllables. Kirby wasn’t scared often and it twisted at your marrow. “I need you to hold my hand.”

You opened your eyes and looked at Laswell and Ghost, lifting your chin a bit. You were going to be there. Come hell or high water. Or more terrorists. “Wouldn’t miss it, Kirbs. You know that.” You eventually said your goodbyes and “I love you” and “I love you, too” before ending the call with a quiet, “give the little one a hello for me, okay?”

The phone clicked in your hand and you let it slip back into Laswell’s grip when she reached for it. “Any other family you need to call that weren’t in any of your files?” The question was tinged with exhaustion.

You didn’t feel bad. “No. It’s just her.”

Laswell frowned but said nothing else as she strode from the room.

You expected Ghost to follow. He seemed fond of doing that. But he didn’t. His unmoving stare was anchored on you. “Why wouldn’t your file show your sister?”

Well, he certainly cuts to the chase. “It’s a long story.”

His large arms crossed over his broad chest (you ignored how your heart hiccuped. God he was so big.) “We’ve got time.”

Chapter Two

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!

[homeofthelonelywriter]

gamer!Ghost x f!gamer!reader | Previous Part

Your fingers were hovering over your keyboard, the chat with Ghost open before you, but they didn’t move. What were you supposed to write? Hi? No, too boring. Hey Ghost, hope you remember me, I’m the one from the COD game a few days ago. Anyway, just wanted to say I’m such a huge fan and I love to stare at the pic of your arms and would love to sit on your face some day and… Frustrated, you smashed your hands into the keyboard, before closing your eyes and leaning back in your chair. For a few moments you staid like that, contemplating wether you should even message him. He probably was just trying to be nice. No way he would be interested in you in any way.

The sound of a new Discord message pulled you out of your thoughts and you sat up, expecting the message to be from one of your friends, asking if you wanted to play. Instead, the new message was in your currently opened chat.

G: Well, hello to you too.

Your eyes widened as they flicked up to the message above. No way you just sent the Ghost some keyboard smash mumbo jumbo.

Y: Oh jfc, I’m so sorry. Please ignore that, it wasn’t on purpose.

G: Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m glad you reached out anyway. Was waiting for a message from you.

Y: You were?

G: Yeah. I really enjoyed playing with you, wanted to ask if you wanna team up for a few rounds. I’ll probably stream in an hour or two.

Y: Yeah! Yeah, I’d love that!

G: Great! See you in an hour, love. ; )

Y: See you in an hour, Ghost. : )

Once again, you leaned back in your chair, this time, your eyes were wide open while you were trying to process the conversation you just had. After a bit, you quickly message your friend, asking if they had time to mod your chat again. You weren’t planing on streaming today after all. Thankfully, they didn’t mind, so you quickly got ready, before starting the stream a bit early. Immediately, you had more viewers than the last few weeks combined and you couldn’t help but smile, while telling your viewers what the plan for the day was. A lot of excitement broke out when you mentioned that you would be playing with Ghost and a lot of viewers were talking about having both streams open and how that was going to be amazing.

As you were starting the game, you quickly messaged your friend and asked if they were okay since there were a lot more messages than usual. Just as they responded that they were fine, an incoming call popped up on Discord and you quickly joined.

“’ello, love.” A smile spread across your lips. “Hey Ghost.” A deep chuckle rang through your headset. “How you doin’?” You hummed quietly, quickly setting up the game and making sure the stream was running smoothly. “Good, good. Nosferatu was a little gremlin today, but that’s okay. How about you?” Silence enveloped the two for a few moments, before his rough voice reached your ears. “N-Nosferatu?” You giggled, as you quickly reached your hand down and snapped a few times, waiting until you felt a wet snout against your fingers. “Yeah, my kitten.” You picked the little thing up and held her up so the camera could see her. But Ghost responded quickly. “Oh, she’s adorable. Both of you are.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately felt your cheeks heat up as you gently placed Nosferatu in your lap. “You have my stream open?” He chuckled again and couldn’t help the shiver that ran down your spine. “Of course, wouldn’t miss a look at you for anything in the world.” If, so far, the camera hadn’t picked up on your blush, it most definitely did now.

The game went well, you kept winning round after round, chatting and bantering with Ghost and just in general having fun. He kept using nicknames, keeping your cheeks dusted in a light blush throughout your stream. At some point, Ghost muted himself, said that he was getting a call. You covered him until he was back, but when he unmuted himself, he sounded grim. “Hey, I uh…I gotta go. Sorry ‘bout that.” You almost flinched at the lack of a nickname and just stuttered a response. “Oh? No, it’s uh - it’s no problem.” You barely finished your sentence when he left the game and call. Stunned, you barely even noticed when you were shot and died, quickly closing the game, before you said goodbye to your viewers and ended the stream.

You just sat there for a few minutes, Nosferatu quickly getting comfortable on your lap, while your thoughts raced in your head. Did you do something wrong? Was it his girlfriend, who wasn’t happy that he was playing with you and calling you all those nicknames? Hundreds of scenarios ran through your head as you sat there in silence, slowly stroking Nosferatu’s soft fur and sinking into despair. A despair that only worsened when you didn’t hear from Ghost for the next three weeks.

Next Part

A/N: I suck at slow burn ya'll. I was halfway through him groaning as you call him babe. Jfc what is wrong with me? Also, let me know if you want to be on the perma taglist! Just say if you want all of COD or specific characters. Although I mostly post Ghost.

@dravenskye @herefor-tojis-tits @lucienofthelakes @tessakate @kakashipandadog @diseasedclitoris @terrormonster55 @solemnlyswearss @sleepisfortheweakpooh @little-mini-me-world @sakunawifey @cap-attheedgeoftheabyss @666spaghetti-ohno @jerru-chan

[captainswhore]

i am a firm believer that the cod men like a spouse with a bush.... but i'm specifically thinkin about gaz.

he looks really clean- like, really, really clean. he's the type that, when he's home, showers twice a day and likes to feel clean and smell good. brings disposable wipes or baby wipes on missions to feel some semblance of that.

so, of course, when you walk in on him in the bathroom one day and see how squeaky clean he is, trimming his pubes before he hops in the shower, you get self conscious. he asks what's takin you so long in the shower after him because he just wants to cuddle once he's clean and home from a mission. he hears you yell "just a sec!" but puts his ear on the door and hears a "mother fu- how do pornstars do this? is it a regular waxing?" he's pushing the door open to see what the hell you're doing.

he finds you, basically doing the splits in the shower, trying SOOO hard to figure out where to even start to get your bush taken care of.

scoops his arm over the leg you have propped up on the tub, grabs a hold of you wherever you can reach when you start flailing, hears your razor clatter on the floor in your haste to grip onto him, and very (not) carefully, throws you on the bed. before you can even ask him what he's doing, he's got his head shoved in between your legs, takes one of your hands to rest on his head, and goes to TOWN. nothing can pull this man off of you.

"it's a personal preference luv," he says, when he leans back to take a breather from literally drowning in your cum, "that means personal.... i'm all for whatever you're comfortable with... don't change just cause you caught me shavin" and before you can even respond his fingers dig into that special spot inside you, and you cum so hard you basically see stars.

he tries to explain why he doesn't care about body hair on other people again, but he has to say it twice because you can't hear anything over your heartbeat in your ears and the panting you're doing after cummin that hard.

[sidemari]

• Aftercare •

Short headcanons about how they treat you after sex.

Characters included: John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Keegan P. Russ, König and Simon "Ghost" Riley [separately] x GN!Reader

Mari's notes: Let me know if any of you want me to write for other COD characters. My requests are open.

After taking care of your basic needs, such as hydration, cleansing and reassurance, Soap will offer a “movie session”, in which you would watch something lighthearted together while exchanging caresses, kisses and confessions.

A COD post you may like.

John "Soap" MacTavish

As the movie begins, he pulls you into his chest, where you feel the calm beating of his heart against your ear. His hands don't stay still — they slide calmly down your back, sometimes intertwining with yours, other times just stroking your hair or your shoulders.

The confessions come quietly, as he shares funny memories, details of his daily life, and even his most intimate thoughts — the ones he usually hides behind the facade of a playful soldier.

"This protagonist has jokes as bad as yours." You laughed, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"Are you implying that my sense of humor is lame? Because if you really are..." He squeezed your cheek playfully, but his gaze was more intense, with a mischievous smile. You smiled, feeling the tension increase. 

"Oh, the character's is. But I can't deny that you have a special talent for bad jokes." You murmured, and the tone of your voice became lower, loaded with a slight but present desire.

"Come here, I still need you." He moved closer, the heat of his body enveloping yours, and his lips found yours again, but this time with more urgency and more intensity. Maybe criticizing his jokes was the best choice you made that night.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick 

Words of affirmation! Expect this man to offer you, in addition to his comforting presence, all the reassurance you could possibly need after a night of intense sex.

You are the most precious person to him and he makes sure you know it. 

After taking care of you with patience and dedication, he creates a small refuge just for the two of you. The room is softly lit, the temperature is cozy, and everything around you seems to slow down. He remains attentive to every detail: he covers you with a light blanket, fixes your hair so it doesn't bother you, checks if you are warm and relaxed. 

In silence, he gets your favorite drink and a snack — something he knows will do you good — and sits next to you, watching you with affection. You realize, even without words, that in that moment he is completely present, completely devoted to the mission of taking care of you as he cuddles you in his arms and murmurs vows of love and devotion.

"You were so good to me..." He'd murmur against your lips before pulling you into a tender kiss. "Let me spoil you a little before you fall asleep."

You smiled, the warmth of his kiss spreading through your body, feeling yourself enveloped by both the softness and the intensity of the moment. When he pulled away, his eyes were shining, as if he were giving in to the desire to take care of you.

Time passed, between caresses and whispers, as the outside world disappeared and all that mattered was each other's presence. When Gaz pulled you back into a tight hug, you let yourself be enveloped by his warmth, your body relaxing completely.

"Rest... I'll take care of everything."

Keegan P. Russ

Despite being very reserved, he is extremely protective. 

He will always make sure to make you comfortable: whether it is by covering your body with a soft blanket, massaging any sore spots with unusual mastery or even just cuddling you tightly while you recover your energy. 

Even with the tiredness weighing down his muscles, he doesn't think about sleeping before making sure you're okay. His fingers gently run along your hips, precisely exploring most sensitive spots as a way to tease you — even if slightly. The pressure is firm, careful, as if he already knows every inch of you — as if he wants, with that touch, to convey all the love he feels for you.

Despite the rigidity that the world demands of him, with you he allows his shoulders to relax. From time to time, even in moments when everything seems calm, he squeezes you a little tighter, as if confirming to himself that you are there.

“It tickles…” You murmured against his neck as he traced circles with his fingertips against the skin of your hip. He smiled, amused by your statement. 

“You are so precious.” 

“Do you say that because you are trying to make me laugh or because you really think so?” You asked, your voice soft, but with a hint of teasing. You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, his smile still vibrating through your body like a gentle wave. Your eyes closed for a moment, savoring the feeling of closeness before he answered.

"I say this because, to me, you are more than precious." He kissed the top of your head. "And you are all I want to keep close."

König

He reassures you of your consent and safety every single time he has sex with you for having sex with him can be overwhelming at times, due to his high stamina and the size difference between you two.

König finds it essential to make sure that everything that happened was consensual and that you enjoyed every second of it: even after the peak of physical surrender, he doesn't pull away. On the contrary — it's as if, after all this, the bond between you becomes even stronger. He makes sure you're okay, observing every detail: your breathing, the sparkle in your eyes, the relaxation of your muscles. Nothing escapes his attention.

He has a habit of drawing baths so that you can prolong the emotional connection you both developed for longer: he will take his time taking care of you while the candles perfume the room and he cleans your skin with slow, respectful movements but full of contained desire. This step usually leads to another round of sex, this time calmer but no less intense. 

“Do you want to wear one of my shirts, liebling?” He asked, resting his chin on your head as he hugged you from behind. 

“I would love to.” 

“You look so cute in it.” He offered you his favorite shirt for you to change into. You took it with a shy smile, smelling his scent impregnated in the fabric — a mix of woody soap and something uniquely his that was impossible to name. 

“You’ll end up keeping it inside your wardrobe forever, right?” He asked with a half smile, watching as you dressed it.

“Maybe…”

Simon "Ghost" Riley 

When you first started having occasional encounters, he was relatively cold and reserved after sex, never staying with you until dawn nor even attending to any of your needs diligently. Over time, after you became his partner, he allowed himself to be a little vulnerable and then began to provide you with aftercare. 

If he notices any sign of discomfort, whether physical or emotional, he responds with simple actions: he fetches fresh water and offers it directly into your hands, as a gesture of intimate care. He brings a warm, damp cloth, cleaning your skin patiently, preventing any feeling of vulnerability from turning into disconnection.

If the exhaustion is more emotional than physical, he adapts. He doesn't force conversation, he doesn't wait for words: he just stays there, laying next to you, allowing you to rest your head on his chest as his fingers, now more confident, massage your back with a steady rhythm, gently bringing you back to yourself.

The first morning you woke up with him still by your side was a surprise: his dark blond hair was messy, his voice was deliciously hoarse and his still naked body in intimate contact with your own body.

"Simon...?" You murmured sleepily, almost incredulous to see him still by your side. 

"That would be me." He'd say as he caressed your hair with affection before putting it behind your ear.

“I… thought I was dreaming for a second.”

“If it is a dream... then don't wake me up."

Your heart clenched slightly, a sense of belonging finally taking over you after months — you had finally gained his trust and unconditional love. So you closed your eyes, leaned your forehead against his, and let the silence say what words still couldn't.

[sheepispink]

grumpy simon riley x sergeant reader (platonic or romantic, up to you) featuring the 141 briefly too

You’ve had Soap complaining to you all morning about how grumpy Ghost is today, throwing his hands up in frustration as he explains how hard he had been tossed down by him whilst practicing. Then Kyle chimes in, describing how a rookie nearly wet himself from how Simon had glared his way— the kid had barely breathed the whole hour after that.

You know it’s bad when Price comes in huffing, his hands gripping his mug as he recounts Simon’s behaviour in the debriefing, not to mention how he’s just angrily slammed every single door he’s ever walked out of. At this point, all the doors are likely on their last hinge because of him.

Then finally you encounter the hulk of the man who's been terrorising the base for the past two days. You’re sat in the common room when he comes over and drops his entire weight on you, forcing the air out your lungs and making you choke. “What the-“

“Stop breathing.” He grumbles, and you realise now he’s ripped his mask off, discarding it near the door. You blink, confused as to why Simon of all people has his whole face buried into your back. His body squashes you like a cat annoys its owner, purposely pushing you into the couch.

“I cant stop breathing, idiot.” You huff, managing to push him off just slightly so you can lay on your back and fill your lungs again.

“It’s annoying.”

“Me breathing?”

He groans again, his face now hidden between your side and your arm since you turned over. “Your shirt is rubbing against my face. Dont like it.”

His nose is pressed deep into your side, carving into your muscle and you roll your eyes at his dramatic display, eventually letting your hands settle on the messy blonde mop on his head. It’s dry, of course, this man never used the conditioner.

“Well you’re the one who put your face in my shirt.”

Just for that, you breathe heavily on purpose, forcing him to lift his head and give you a tired glare, eyes squinted and nose scrunched up at you. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?”

“Don’t like my face out.”

You raise a brow, craning your head to glance at the mask on the floor and then back at him. He realises your questioning look and scowls at you, his head hovering above you as he keeps you trapped. “Weird texture. Scratches against me— it’s not the same as my usual one.”

“Just wear your usual one then.”

“Cant.”

“Why?”

“It’s in the wash.”

Really? All of this because his mask was in the laundry?

“You can just buy another, yknow. The same material as your usual.”

At that he scoffs, like you just said the stupidest thing on Earth right to his face. “I dont know where i bought this one.”

“Then dont complain, you big baby.”

You huff, forcing all your strength to push him up just enough so you can sit up. He pushes you down again, forcing you to lay back against the cushions as he huffs, a reluctant look on his face. “I’ll get a new mask. But you have to shop for it. I hate shopping.”

“Alright, fine. Now will you stop flattening me?”

With your agreement, he’s relieved but your question makes him pause. “No.” He pushes his face back into your side, his arms wrapped around your middle and squeezing you so tight you might aswell be placed in a sandwich press.

You huff out a long breath, deciding to just leave him be for once. Though you should check if amazon has any next day delivery before he ends up turning you into his human sized stress ball.

——-

Buy me a kofi!

COD Masterlist

[nastybuckybarnes]

Coal - One

Pairing: Alpha!Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Omega!Reader

Summary: ...Snapping the folder closed, he tosses it back to Price and rises to his feet. "Since you're just the messenger, you can tell them to send the pup back where it came from."...

Warnings: A/b/o dynamics, military inaccuracies, language, sexual themes, smut, injuries, lowkey mean!simon, kinda strangers to simons a hater to lovers?

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: Y'all really thought i would be involved in the COD waters and NOT do something a/b/o??? y'all thought wrong. Im such a hoe for this shit but enjoy cause i have another a/b/o idea for cod? idk maaaan

A/N2: I literally have like 12 different things written and ready for posting idk why i dont post them. i think im scared of you guys 😣 but im gonna try to post at least once a week until i start getting through my inventory........

~*~

"Thank you for joining me on such short notice," The Captain says, pushing open the door to one of the interview rooms.

The Lieutenant steps in a moment after him, ducking slightly through the doorway, but says nothing.

The Captain sits down first, then motions for the other man to sit across from him.

Ever the good soldier, Ghost obeys, taking a stiff seat while his eyes flicker around the otherwise empty room.

"What's goin' on?" He finally asks, tugging his gaze from the mirror behind Price and focusing on him instead.

The older man heaves a sigh and tosses a thick folder across the table. It thuds lowly upon impact and slides over to Ghost, and the man only stares at it blankly.

"This is done. There's nothing you can say or do that will change this."

Running near a mile a minute, he wracks his brain trying to figure out what's going on as he slowly flips open the folder.

Confusion settles on his shoulders when he finds the contents sealed in a plastic bag.

Eyes flickering up to his Captain, he pauses.

Only after Price gives an encouraging nod does he open the bag, and when he does he wishes he hadn't.

His eyes roll back and a shudder tears down his back.

"What is this?" He grits out, yanking the shirt out of the bag and crumpling it up in his hand as the scent slowly fills his nose through the fabric of his balaclava.

It smells earthy, homey. Sweet and warm like baking with the cool fog of morning dew.

"This is your Omega."

"Try again."

Price sighs, "don't make this any harder than it already is. It's above my head, Lieutenant. These aren't my orders, I'm just the messenger."

Ghost is quiet for a long moment, then he quickly flips the folder open and starts scanning over the words on the page.

There's a picture of a pretty Omega with warm, happy eyes.

Looking past that, he reads her name, nationality, presentation age. He eats up every word, stopping only when he gets to the part about her upbringing.

The Omega they've so kindly gifted is from a Military Omega Shelter.

The shelters are more of a ghost story than he is.

Snapping the folder closed, he tosses it back to Price and rises to his feet.

"Since you're just the messenger, you can tell them to send the pup back where it came from."

He leaves the room, and the walls tremble with the force of the door closing.

Price heaves out a heavy sigh and turns to look at the mirror over his shoulder.

On the other side of the glass, Laswell watches you carefully.

She keeps her senses on high alert for every breath, every tiny change in your scent.

Your eyes, however, are locked on where the angry Alpha was just standing.

You'd been told stories of why Omegas needed to see Alphas in their natural habitat before submitting to a mate. Something about the primitive nature taking over and kicking the Omega into fight or flight when seeing an unknown Alpha for the first time. You were never a big believer in that, you'd openly scoffed at it.

But now? Now you couldn't be more grateful the Shelter enforced it before sending you off.

If you'd had to meet this Lieutenant Riley in person without seeing him from a distance first, you're sure the weight of his glare would've killed you.

The silence hangs so heavily between you and Chief Laswell that a trill starts to ring in your ears.

"That wasn't too bad," she finally says.

Your eyes find your fingertips as your brows draw together.

That wasn't too bad?

If that's 'not too bad' you're positive you don't want to know what 'bad' is.

His harsh words echo in your head and your frown deepens.

A chuckle leaves her lips at the look on your face, and she watches as Captain Price slowly rises to his feet and leaves the room.

"I wasn't sure what they would've told you about this assignment," she confesses, leaning back in her chair with a sigh.

She slides over a folder that bears a striking resemblance to the one that Captain Price gave the Lieutenant.

"They told me I would find out when I got here," you answer quietly, eyeing the folder.

That's not entirely true.

You knew you would be coming here to be mated. That here you would service an Alpha or perhaps a pack.

Everyone in the Shelter knew.

The only time girls leave the Shelter is when an Alpha needs an outlet, a rut bunny to quell his raging animalistic needs. And there's no shortage of those particular Alphas in the military.

On the off-chance an Omega isn't chosen, she stays with the Shelter and goes on to teach the next generation.

You weren't one of those lucky ones.

"By now, everyone who knew you has been led to believe that you died in the helicopter that brought you here. Your funeral will be in two weeks. Empty casket."

Her words shock you so deeply that, for a split second, you bring your gaze to hers.

"The rest of your life will be, from this moment on, highly classified. To be shared with none but those in your pack, with the exception of given doctors and myself. All your medical needs will be met through our facilities, and anything you require will be provided. Do you understand?"

Her voice rings with such authority that all the suppressants in the world can't hide the fact that she's an Alpha.

"Yes."

She gives one firm nod of her head, then flips the folder open for you.

There, on the first page, is a generic photo icon in place of where your new mate's face should be.

"Lieutenant Riley is a private man, required by his profession. If he wants you to see him, you'll see him."

You skim your eyes over the page, breathing steadily to keep your scent even and hide the apprehension growing in your belly.

The document is more redacted than not, and it's a mere two pages long.

Sitting up straighter and casting your eyes down to the floor, you nod your understanding.

Laswell rises and motions for you to do the same.

Like the good Omega you are, you obey, following her as she opens the door to the hallway.

"He won't be on board with this. He'll likely refuse. Vehemently. You must understand that it has nothing to do with you as an individual and everything to do with the situation at hand. No Alpha will admit they need help, fewer still will accept it. Even when it's wrapped wonderfully in a gift like you."

Her words ease some of your nerves, her compliment warming your tummy for the briefest of moments.

Your inner Omega yearns for more approval from this Alpha, hell, from any Alpha, really.

The Shelter gave just the right amount of Alpha exposure to cause a deep craving for their approval.

Surely one of the reasons you were chosen for this particular one.

"You are here to help him in ways he may not even understand. Be patient and know that you're doing what's necessary. You're helping him."

The warmth in your tummy spreads to your chest and you can't help the smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth.

That smile vanishes, however, when Laswell turns down a long hallway with only one door at the end. In front of the door is the very man in question.

His eyes bore into yours and you quickly drop your gaze, heart racing in your chest.

Laswell doesn't falter. She continues down the hall with you at her side, and Simon straightens up and starts walking.

"Lieutenant," She greets, pausing her stride.

"Laswell."

He walks right on by the two of you without sparing either of you a glance.

The sound of his voice so close, the deep rumbling growl of it around that one word has your scent permeating the air.

Risking a glance over your shoulder, you catch sight of him as he turns the corner, his glare focused on you.

You suck in a shuddering breath at the menacing look and snap your head back forward, biting on your bottom lip to stop it from quivering.

"I put your bags in here already. I didn't think he'd be that attuned to your scent so soon," She confesses.

The two of you come to a stop outside of the door that must be for your quarters.

"This is a biometric locking system. Right now, you and I are the only ones with access. Once you've been claimed and welcomed into the pack, your pack mates will also be given access with the permission of your Alpha."

You say nothing, only nod your understanding as she unlocks the door.

Respecting the boundary of the threshold, she takes a half-step back to give you enough space to enter.

Slowly, you step into the room, glancing around quickly before flicking on the light.

Though far better and larger than your room at the Shelter, it's still very sterile and military.

There's a bed to the right, with a nightstand on either side. At the foot of the bed is a stack of extra pillows and blankets.

On the opposite wall is a small desk with four folders placed neatly on it. Your bags occupy the space on the floor beside the desk.

To the left are two doors. One that likely leads to a closet and another to a bathroom.

Your inner Omega recoils at the stale stench of the air.

"You'll be okay here for the night?" Chief Laswell asks after a moment.

"Yes." Is your automatic reply. You don't know why she's asking, you both know that you don't have a choice.

She nods, watching from her spot outside the door as you step further into the room.

"The first week or two I won't mind if you ask me for anything you need, but I would like to see you get more comfortable with your Alpha and with the other members of your pack."

You nod your understanding, walking toward the desk and inspecting the other contents.

"Once you get used to them, the team's not so bad. I think you'll get along well with the Sergeants."

Your brows furrow for a moment, but before you can say another word the door closes between the two of you with a soft click and the 'whir' of the lock.

At least no one else can come in.

Slowly, you make your way around the perimeter of the room, taking your time and breathing heavily to cover the area in your scent.

Once you've successfully scented the room, the bathroom, and the closet, you take a careful seat on the corner of the bed and let the silence envelope you.

Ever since the Shelter took you in, you knew that your life would be some variation of this. But you never thought it would be so... alien.

It's almost like you're watching someone else live your life.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you stand up and make your way back over to the desk, flipping open the folders.

Each one has a plastic bag inside, and information on your new pack.

Lieutenant Riley's folder is as bare as the one Laswell slid over to you, however the plastic bag is what really piques your interest.

Carefully, you pull it open, a soft purr leaving you as his scent fills your nose.

He smells wonderful. Like the earth after a rainstorm. The smoke wafting from a dying fire through fresh morning fog. Like destruction and the peace that follows.

After another long, deep breath, you seal the bag once more and hug it close to your chest.

Your mind wanders back to when he found out about you. The anger that filled him, the way he shuddered when he smelled your scent.

Chief Laswell's words ring in your ears as you start to worry.

It's not you. You're not the problem. He's angry at the situation.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you set the bag down and flip open the next folder, shivering when you see another plastic bag, and a photo of Captain Price.

The whole team must be here. A tiny piece of them given to you, to allow yourself to get familiar with them even in their absence.

You're more than sure that Lieutenant Riley didn't willingly provide anything. The others, though? You're a little bit more hopeful.

You open the plastic bag a crack and give it a gentle sniff, another purr of satisfaction rumbling softly in your chest.

The Captain smells more woodsy, with a spicy undertone. Like an old, warmly lit cabin in the middle of the forest, in the heart of the winter.

You keep the bag held up to your nose as you read over what little information there is.

The document is redacted, but still gives you far more information than the Lieutenant's.

Sealing the bag, you move on to the next folder, cocking your head to the side and letting your eyes flutter closed as you open the bag.

This one is fresh and citrusy, like linen hanging to dry in the sun beside an orange tree.

Sergeant Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick.

A Beta.

You had expected the pack to consist of all Alphas.

Truly, you expected the Military to only employ Alphas.

Your eyes scan over the words quickly, greedily devouring all that you can about this Beta as you take deep breaths of his scent.

This is good news. Great news, even.

Sealing and setting down his bag, you move on to the last one.

Your eyes widen when you read the name and presentation.

Another Beta.

Who goes by Soap?

This one smells like the loveliest combination of lemon, jasmine, and sandalwood. Like a Sunday reset, a freshly clean house, and a lover at your hip.

After reading through Sergeant MacTavish's file you set his bag down and take a few steps back, so far, in fact, that you hit your legs on the edge of the bed and stumble back.

Falling onto your back, you take a few breaths and try to clear your head.

Your eyelashes lightly kiss your cheeks as you let your eyes fall closed, basking in the lingering embrace of your new packs scents.

You bask in it so much that you fall asleep right there on your back.

It's hours later that you're awoken by a soft knock on your door.

Pushing to your feet, you take a moment to sniff the air, recognizing the scent from one of the many folders on your desk.

Slowly, you open the door, a little surprised to see the Captain standing in front of you.

"Evenin'," he greets, smiling gently at you.

You bow your head in acknowledgement, refusing to let your eyes stray to his.

"I'm Captain John Price. I... I figured you know that already, but I thought it best to come introduce myself properly."

His scent is so much stronger like this, like a brick wall of woodsy spice that makes you feel cozy and warm.

He must feel you relaxing, your scent easing to something a bit softer, because his shoulders relax and his scent wafts more freely.

"They're serving dinner, if you'd care to join us?"

His words confuse you, but the way he asks confuses you more.

He's your pack leader. He barks orders and the rest of you follow them.

So why is he asking if you want to go with him?

They didn't go over this at the Shelter.

Instead of verbalizing any of your confusion, you just give him a soft nod and take a step out of your room.

The door shuts and locks behind you automatically, something that eases your nerves.

Captain Price leads the way, and you follow closely behind him, anxiety prickling your palms at all the new faces you pass.

Every single person stops to watch as you walk by, their gazes heavy with judgement, intrigue, and some other things that you'd rather not put a name to.

Finally, after what feels like hours of walking in silence, Captain Price pushes open the door to the mess, leading you toward a table in the far corner where two men have already taken a seat.

"Here, have a seat with the boys while I get you some food."

You obey instantly, taking a seat across from the two Beta's as the Captain turns and leaves.

There's a moment of tense silence between the three of you before one of the two men across from you finally speaks.

"S'nice to finally meet the reason why the Lt's been busting his knuckles for the past four hours," The Scottish one says.

You look up as he speaks, your eyes meeting his.

"This is Gaz, and I'm Soap. Or Kyle and Johnny. Or, your favourite pack members. We're not picky with what you call us, really," he continues, smiling cheekily at you.

Something about him has you feeling immediately at ease, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"How are you adjusting so far?" The other one, Gaz, asks.

You glance around the mess for a moment before bringing your gaze back to him.

"It's... a lot. But I'm sure I'll get used to it quickly."

He nods his understanding, his own eyes drifting over your shoulder to where his Pack Leader is getting you food.

Providing for Omega.

The two Betas would be lying if they said it didn't make them feel good to see you already getting taken care of.

Simon's standpoint on the pack needing an Omega (him needing an Omega) is firm. The rest of the pack, however, don't share his disdain.

Soap couldn't be more elated!

A plaything! A toy! A woman with soft hips and a gentle smile. This is exactly what they've been missing, Simon's just too stubborn to see that yet.

That's fine. Even though your mate isn't too keen on making you feel like part of the pack, Soap's dead set on making you feel included.

"Well, anything you need you let us know, yeah? We want you to be happy here," Gaz says.

You nod your gratitude, dropping your eyes when you feel Captain Price return.

He sets a tray of food down in front of you, then another beside you for himself.

"Now, don't feel pressured to eat everything here. I wanted to get you a bit of everything."

"Thank you," you murmur softly.

Price clenches his jaw to stop the shiver that so desperately wants to roll down his spine at the sound of your soft sweet voice.

Conversation picks up between the three men after that. Each contributing their part between bites of food.

You pick at the food on your plate, taking nibbles here and there, but your attention stays focused everywhere but your food.

How could you focus on something like eating when you have a new life to explore? A new pack to learn?

That last part isn't as hard as you had thought it would be.

As they eat and chat, you're able to put together the mosaic that is their pack. Your pack, now.

Captain Price is an Alpha, the lead Alpha, and he leads his pack. He bears the weight of their safety on his shoulders and back, and you're included in that.

Soap has a naturally charming and calming energy about him, as if all the issues in the world couldn't wipe the smile off of his face. More than once has he made a sly remark that has your brows raising and a giggle falling from your lips.

And Gaz is a healthy mix of humour and tender level-headedness that really does make you feel like he may understand what you're going through. And if he doesn't fully understand it, then he certainly can empathize with it.

"All finished there, little one?"

You're snapped out of your thoughts by Captain Price's low voice, and you turn your head toward him, nodding your answer.

He nods along with you then rises, taking the tray from in front of you.

"Well, little one," Soap teases playfully once the Captain is out of earshot, "how about a tour?"

[rebelssvy]

whipped ✧.*

bokuto x reader ⋆·˚ ༘ *

ੈ✩‧₊˚

summary: smut sex bokuto is your roomate and he is whipped by you. like in love.

bokuto has always been at your complete mercy. you two had been roommates for a year now. and bokuto has gone around and told everyone he knows that he is going to marry you one day. even as busy has he is as a rising star volleyball player, he always made time for you.

he always made time for you.

you knew bo had a little crush on you. the way he would make way in crowds with his tall figure, just for you. or when he would rub your back after long days. he did a lot of things that made you swoon. you never really considered dating him though.

well untill today. he had gotten home after his work out and was wearing only these short shorts. his abs, shoulders, back, all on sight for you to see. he had said hello to you and went to his room to shower. you then made both of you dinner. he ate all of it, gave you compliments and then did your dishes after. then he did somthing he never had before. he kissed your head. it was somthing so natural. almost like you were dating.

so here you were, it was very late at night. you just couldn’t sleep. you had been thinking about him doing crazy things to you for an hour now. it’s all really gotten to your head. first you thought about your life with him as your husband. and then him getting you pregnant and then all the things he would do to you. and it’s just now really really messed you up.

you glanced at the clock. it was about midnight. there was no way he was up. he was a semi pro athlete right now.

you were really horny.

despite all your efforts to stay in bed and rub yourself off you just couldn’t. you gathered all your confidence up and took it with you. you were gonna need it.

walking out of your bed room you entered your shared living space. it was really quiet. the lights were so dim you could barely see a thing. you finally made your way to his room. there was a tiny light that gave you hope he was still up. a voice in your head was saying ‘y/n turn around and go back to bed.’

pushing aside all your thoughts you pushed open his door without a knock. too your surprise he was still up. he sat at his desk with his headphones on. he was playing a video game.

“oh hey y/n! is everything ok?” he cheered seeing you. even in your disheveled state he still perked up seeing you.

“why are you up bokuto?” you asked him. casually as if you weren’t about to ask him to fuck you.

“just playing cod with an old friend…” he said turning his attention to the screen. just momentarily before turning it back to you. he gave you a full body glance. his eyes wandered up and down.

he looked so fuckable sitting there too. grey sweats, hair all messed up. no shirt. he turned his attention to the screen for the last time as he said through the mic “hey kuroo i have to get off.” and then he turned off all of his things.

he stood up and made his way over to you. “are you okay? why aren’t you asleep.” he questioned. all of the confidence you gathered earlier disappeared as you laid your eyes on him.

you sat in silence. he was waiting for you to say something. “bo..” you whispered. it was so quiet he had to bend over and ask you to repeat it.

“bokuto..” you started. “i.. i need you to fuck me. i can’t stop thinking about you and i just want you.”

…

…

you swore you heard the crickets outside. you didn’t even have to say anything. you took his silence as a no. you turned around and grabbed the door. you were half way out the room when he spun you around face to face.

“baby i need you to say that again just so i can be sure i hear that right.” his eyes had gone half litted. your words had clearly gotten to him.

“i want you to fuck me bo…”

with those words he grabbed your face and brought it to his. kissing you with a delicate touch. slowly mixing saliva you moaned into his mouth. the delicate touch was thrown out the window as soon as you started making noises. bokuto broke the kiss, picking you up and throwing you onto his bed.

“just tell me what you need and i’ll do it. i’m at your mercy y/n.” he was so hot like this. he had the strength to do anything he wanted to. but he whined for your attention.

even your positioning. he had you sitting at the foot of the bed while he crouched on the rug in front of you. you giggled at bud mannerism.

he peaked his head up at the sound of your laugh. it was one of his favorite sounds.

“bo… just make me feel good.” you watched as his face flushed a deep red. he shook his head and sat next to you on the bed.

almost like he was savoring you he tilted your head to the side, parting a way to your neck. he slowly kissed at it, starting at your ear and moving to your collar bone. he stopped only once to look at your flushed state. before he continued.

“can i?” he asked prodding at your tshirt. you nodded before pulling it off yourself. he gawked at your naked chest. you hadn’t been wearing a bra. you also hadn’t noticed you were holding your breath. nervous of what he was going to think.

“you don’t know how long i’ve dreamt of this..” he said softly, almost like he was taking to himself. the took both your boobs delicately into his hands. playing with them before he licked at him. the sensation of his tounge onto your hard nipples settled the urge in your core for a moment.

you groaned letting your head fall back “mmmbokuto yes..” you whispered.

his head bolted to yours in an instant like he was starved. mushing his lips to yours all of this restraints shattered at the sound of your words.

you gasped into his mouth as he made quick work of you. positioning you flat on your back, his hands still found your breast.

he parted to stare at you. you sat underneath him. he didn’t say a word, moving in silence to your pants. undoing them with a pace that might kill him. slowly he took your pants off to reveal your sopping pussy. you hadn’t had on any underwear.

his cock grew in his pants. he took a sharp breath in. you noticed your effect on him. slowly you opened your legs for him to get a better view. he got lightheaded from the sight.

his eyes shifted to yours. instead of lust he found love. the way you nodded at him was a sign of affection. the moment he had always waited for was here.

he broke the mutual silence. “are you sure this is okay baby? i mean fuck.. can i please touch you?” his head was screaming at him to just take you. but there was no way he wasn’t going to savor this.

“bo i already told you.. i just want you…” you spoke as you moved around, bringing your hand in a seductive manner, you pinched your breast and moved slowly down your torso. finally reaching your wet cunt you spreaded your folds for him to see.-“ i just want you to make me feel good.” you finished your sentence.

bokuto was ravenous. flipping you to hkm he propped your feet onto his chest. he moved his hands in a face pace to your wet cunt. he spread your pussy all for him to see.

at this moment he realized his pants were still on. he got up to take them off. coming back to you he slapped his cock onto your stomach. you mouth dropped.

“kou… your too big.. i don’t know if it’s gonna fit..” your tone was laced with concern. but the pride bokuto got out of that was inhuman.

“y/n.” he said, “i’m really trying to contain myself but you can’t say stuff like that.” he moaned. he moved his cock through your folds. your body jerked at the touch. he watched as you twitched, your eye brows scrunching up while he collected your slick on his cock.

he slowly pushed himself into you. you pulled him into you. your pussy clenching and spasming around him.

he had to stop himself from plowing into you. he leaned forward to bottom out. coming face to face with you he dropped his head to your ear and whispered. “your taking me so well. funny how you new i would fuck you.. i’ve liked you for so long.” you gasped at his words. he was talkative in bed as well..

he slowly started rolling his hips against you but not once did he move. every inch of him was in you and only going farther.

“i just really want to make you feel good but it’s hard to.. not lose myself when i think about you.”

your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, his words were too much- until he brought a hand to your tummy.

you felt like you could feel everything. even your juices slowly flowing out of you. the ones that were creaming around the base of his cock. you could feel everything.

“mm fuck- i can feel myself in you. such a good girl taking my cock like this”

his words were pushing you over the edge. your nails dragged crossed his back as a warning. you were close. he moved from his skin to skin position, “y/n i just wanna make you feel good..” he blabbered out. je snapped his cock into you with a harsh that went straight to your core. you arched into him, grabbing at whatever you could. you mumbled ‘fucfyckfuckfuck’ as he pounded into you.

you snapped orgasming around his cock your body shook. your waves crashed over you, you moaned his name but your brain went fuzzy. you came around his hard cock. it was too much for him.

he stayed inside you until you came down from your orgasm and he pulled out and came on your tummy. his cum dripped down you.

as soon as he caught his breath he said the first words that came to mind.

“let me marry you.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hey I live your what if scenarios and I had a request for them! Could you do one where the boys are having a night out where they let loose for the first time in a long while and then how each boy would drunkenly call you to come pick them up? And vise versa if it was reader drunk calling the cod boys

I'm going to focus on the first half of this, which is the guys calling us to come pick them up after letting loose at the pub. I went short and fun with these. A bit of humor. 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 (mdni): swearing, established relationship, drunken behavior, brief mention of alcohol, brief suggestive themes

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

It’s late, and you should really be in bed, but your book is far too good to put down. The enemies are becoming lovers, and you need to know what comes next. As you flip the page to start the next chapter, your phone vibrates. At first, you ignore it. When it falls silent and then starts up again, you frown, glancing at the screen to see who it is.

John, it reads. Your husband.

He’s out with his friends, letting loose for the first time in a long while. He deserves this, to be with people he cares about that doesn’t necessarily include you. But he’s calling you, and that does spark a hint of worry.

“John?” you answer.

“Come get me.”

“Everything all right?”

���I’m not made for this.”

“You—you what?”

The sigh on the other end of the phone is deep. “Johnny bought us all tequila shots.”

“Okay,” you say slowly.

“He hates tequila.” A pause. “Had to drink his as well as mine.”

“Oh, John.”

“You know whiskey is more my drink.” “I know.” You’re already grabbing your car keys, the enemies to lovers forgotten as you head for the garage. “I’m on my way.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Your phone vibrates, rattling across the wood side table. It’s loud—loud enough to wake you. Without looking, you reach out, navigating the area by touch rather than sight. When your fingers brush against the buzzing device, you snatch it up, rolling onto your back, wincing at the bright light that greets you as the phone awakens to show who is calling.

Johnny.

You tap the green circle and bring the phone to your ear. “Do you know what time it is?” The reply you receive from him is garbled; his Scottish accent so thick it sounds like nonsense. “Johnny!”

“S’ned a ride, love.”

You’re far too tired for this. “Repeat that again.” A loud cheer drowns out his voice. There’s a crackling, and then Kyle is talking to you. “Johnny needs a ride home. Bloke is piss drunk.” Kyle laughs, and then Johnny is back, mumbling about how much he loves you and to please come get him.

You should be annoyed, but Johnny hasn’t been out with his friends in months. He needed this—to let loose and be a mess for the sake of it.

“Jesus Christ,” you groan, grabbing your car keys. “Just drop a pin.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I need you to pick me up.”

Simon’s statement is slightly slurred, each word slowed below his usual pace of speech. It’s unlike him to go out and let loose. There’s always a tightness about him—a stiffness. But Johnny and Kyle convinced him, urged Simon to join them on a night out. Not that he doesn’t have a drink with the rest of the team after a successful mission. This is different. This is pub hopping. This is a late night out and an early return home come morning.

“Something wrong?” you ask, curious as to why he’s calling you.

“I am drunk,” replies Simon, the slurred speech a bit more pronounced than before. “And I miss you.”

Simon rarely drinks to the point of drunkenness. A little buzz is all he needs.

“We’re literally married,” you laugh. “You saw me,” you check the time, “four hours ago.”

There is a moment of silence on the other end before Simon finally speaks. “If you come pick me up right now, I will do the tongue thing.”

Negotiation.

“Done,” you answer automatically, because he’ll only keep adding in the hopes that you’ll take pity on him.

“Bloody brilliant,” sighs Simon.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You answer your phone, bringing it to your ear. “Hello, you,” you smile.

Kyle’s voice is soft. “Hello, love.”

You plop down on the sofa. “Where are the three off to now?”

Kyle chuckles, and it sounds nervous. “Well,” he begins. “That’s why I’m calling you.”

“Not asking me to join you?” you ask, your focus shifting away from the television and on the conversation.

“No,” answers Kyle. “But—”

You frown as you hear Kyle’s friend Simon growl, “Bloody fucking ridiculous.”

“Everything okay, Kyle?”

He sighs heavily. “Can you come pick us up?”

“Us?” you counter. “Who is us?”

Another heavy sigh. “Me. Johnny. And Simon.”

The reality show on the television is completely forgotten. You start to stand, ready to go for your keys at any moment. “What pub are you at?”

“We’re not at a pub.”

You blink. “Then where are you?”

A pause. “The police station.”

You bolt forward, rushing toward the kitchen to retrieve your keys. “What happened! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, love. Johnny flirted with someone’s wife. Started a fight. Simon joined to back him up. They just now releasing them.”

You roll your eyes. “Together, the three of you are a mess.”

[quarterlifekitty]

Hi! I don't know how to particularly phrase this, but how do you think the COD guys would react if reader bought a toy for themselves while their partner was on deployment? Hope this makes sense lol! :)

you know for a split second i read this and was like "lol you mean like a rubik's cube???"

Gaz isn't jealous because you're fucking plastic. He's jealous because you didn't ask him to help you pick one out. Next time he's deployed, you'll have a whole drawer prepared of things he wants you to use. Hand picked. Maybe a tripod for your phone, too.

Soap is jealous because you're fucking plastic, but if you're sending videos... he can't really bring himself to complain, to be honest. And I hope you're ready to share when he gets back.

Ghost doesn't mind, but he's an opportunistic man. So when he gets home, he's going to have you crying on that fucking toy. Condescending you, saying "thought you liked your little friend, luvie. Why're you beggin' me t'stop now?"

Price is an educated man. He knows about the time honored tradition of the he's-at-home. His only condition is that once he's back, it goes back into the drawer, banished until he leaves again.

Nikolai is perhaps the most secure in it. He views your pleasure the same as your eating, drinking, warmth... He would love to be able to provide it for you all of the time, but he can't, so he'll make sure you're able to take care of all of your needs while he's away. He probably buys you a toy when he's expecting to leave before you even think to do it yourself. He also recognizes that different tools have different applications. Sometimes you just need something light and quick to get to sleep and wake up bright and early... and Nikolai's cock is not the kind of thing you can take and expect to wake up at 8AM and go on with your life afterwards.

[reveluving]

Phillip Graves getting jealous because his shy wife is getting flirted on by someone else but she doesn't know how to respond?? Yes please!!

(could be sfw at first but when they get back home graves pounds his wife against any surface he sees because he can't stand seeing his wife getting flirted on right in front of him)

YUUUUH I HAVE JUST THE THING!! I know, it's been AGES with these, and this one from last year but I still hope you like it! and I know you said doing the nasty back home, but I thought "man, I'm already here. might as well!" and filthy-ize(???) it even more for good measure 😘💗

Includes; soft (& slightly mean dom) & possessive graves, fingerf~cking, unprotected sex (p in v), petnames ('sugar', 'pretty girl'), licking, biting & marking, praising, dirty talking, mentions of voyeurism & exhibitionism!!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

It happens. 

A lot.

The library, your favourite diner, your flower shop—anywhere.

It happens more than you can imagine, but with Phil around, it’s mostly from afar. The kind where they could only dream about making a move on you, if not for the guard dog with the sharp tongue.

Hence, when he’s not around, he worries a little for you, but he knows you can protect yourself when needed, thanks to the self-defence lessons he has given you when you were still dating.

So, imagine the unlucky bastard who thought it was a good idea to take advantage of your gracious hospitality, not knowing your husband was around.

It happened when he had finished work, but instead of heading home, he took the route where your flower shop was. Closing time was ten minutes ago so he knew you’d be waiting for him at the cafe next door, probably nursing a cup of your favourite drink or nibbling on a pastry.

He hated it whenever he couldn’t reach you on the dot or before, no matter how many times you’ve reassured him. 

Reaching the neighbourhood shops was like a breath of fresh air, enjoying the sense of familiarity and the breeze as he turned the corner, passing by the cafe first.

But with a glance, his brows furrowed, seeing that you were nowhere in sight. He quickly took it as a sign that you were still working, though a thirty-minute overtime was almost uncommon of you.

He parked his convertible close to the entrance of your shop but still out of view, and for a brief moment, he caught sight of you through the window. 

And just his mood lifted, ready to greet you with open arms, his smile dropped.

You were dealing with a customer, a man likely in his 30s and dressed, well, if one were told to dress formally, and they did it haphazardly, then that was exactly what it was. His body language was a little awkward, almost unsure what pose may look alluring in your eyes.

Though Phil had a knack for judging certain people by their looks, if and only if their personality rubbed him the wrong way, he didn’t have an issue thinking of the worst insults about the man, if not for the uncomfortable smile on your face.

So, leaning against the wall, away from you or the man’s sight, he listened in. 

“So, your husband’s in the military, huh?” He asked, but Phil wasn’t dumb enough to think it wasn’t a sneer in disguise. Probably thought he held some rookie position, “Must be hard not having someone to hold to every night.”

Phil didn’t bother hiding the scornful look on his face.

“It’s not bad,” He immediately perked up at the sound of your voice. The gentle sound that could heal even his worst wounds, “He finds time to check up on me.” 

Whether or not you were telling the truth or if you were downplaying your thoughts if his absence really did bother you, he’ll ask you later, but for now, he wanted to tell you how proud he was. Not letting some schmuck stick their nose in someone else’s business, and your marriage, no less.

“Well, sure, but look at you! I don’t know about you but if I had a girl like you? Shoot, I don’t I’d ever get any work done,” The audacity. Phil’s jaw tightened, listening to him weakly defend himself when you didn’t respond, undoubtedly displeased by his unnecessary opinion, “But that’s just me, y’know.”

“Right, um,” You turned to the row of flower pots, using the second to roll your eyes to the back of your head before showing him the bunch of bluebells in your hands, “How about some bluebells?”

The man pretended to think, “Nah, I mean, they’re cute but I’m looking for something… more,” He then leaned in, resting his arm on the counter, “A little bland, if I’m being honest with you.”

You forced a smile, but Phil, oh Phil.

He wasn’t smiling. 

Who was this man, no, who was this kid to not see how uncomfortable you were with his god-awful ‘flirting’ skills and judge your taste in your very own store?

“That’s fine, I’m sure we can find something else.” Oh, that pitiful tone of yours. Just how long has this man been bothering you?

You bit down a sigh, placing the bluebells back into their pot before walking back to the back of the counter. You knelt, possibly looking for something else, though Phil wouldn’t blame you if you were doing so to drown him out for a bit.

Phil had listened long enough. Moving off the wall, he clicked on the lock button of his car keys. He spun his keys on his finger as he entered the shop, the rattling sounds prompted the man to follow his figure. His eyebrows knitted further, more so when Phil casually stopped right in front of the counter as if used to coming over.

His eyes darted from Phil’s attire; simple yet sophisticated, and how he carried himself, then the convertible behind him. The sudden insecurity forming in the guy’s mind was a no-brainer.

You must’ve heard the extra pair of footsteps and the keys, “I’ll be right with you!” 

He didn’t respond, opting to eye the man—Chad, which he would later learn—with full of judgement. The latter flinched when their eyes met, though he tried to act cool soon by clearing his throat.

But the stare may have been too much for him, as he asked, his voice less confident than before, “Do I know you?” 

“You tell me.” He responded loud enough for you to hear, and just as he hoped, you straightened, visibly lighting up at the sight of him. 

“Phil!” You cheered, already forgetting about the customer as you rushed over to your husband for a hug, “I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight?”

He shrugged, wrapping one of his arms around you while he caressed the apple of your cheek with his free hand, “Change o’plans. Drove here as fast as I could.” He gave you a lazy smile, more so when you jutted out your bottom lip, pouting at his statement. 

“Phil, you know how I feel about you speeding home,” You sighed, despite leaning into his touch, “But I’m glad you’re back. Safe.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, not with that cheeky smile of his before he pressed his lips onto yours. You could feel the upturn of his lips when you yelped, and he didn’t even bother hiding his amusement—his delighted huff when you returned the kiss.

But before he could feel you, before he could melt into your hands as they held his face, you broke the kiss, almost hiding in his chest for a moment before motioning to the man watching—his face that of panicked realization.

“Phil—Customer…”

Ew.

Well, at least he learnt he had messed with the wrong married woman.

Phil suddenly grinned, and a painfully fake one, judging by the lack of positive emotion, or any emotion in his eyes as he looked at Chad.

“Y’here for an arrangement?”

“U–Uh, no. I’m just… looking around. Thinking of buying one for my, uh, girl.”

The man wasn’t dumb enough to think the smirk on Graves’ face wasn’t the face of mockery. A man who has done enough interrogations to know just how much he was bullshitting.

“Huh, Y’must be lookin’ for a special one if you’re makin’ my girl workin’ overtime,” He glanced at the clock just hanging by the door, his arm not leaving you once, “Y’sleepin’ in the dog house or somethin’?” 

“Phil.” You hissed, and ever so cutely, might your husband add. You briefly apologised to Chad, even if you wanted nothing more than to send him on his way.

“Sorry, sorry,” If you noticed his lack of sincerity, you didn't call him out on it. Graves held his hand out, the corner of his lips twitched when Chad took a step back, “Graves. Commander and CEO. Proud husband of this pretty girl right here.” 

Chad accepted, albeit hesitantly, nearly squawking when Phil purposely squeezed his hand. He had a feeling he wouldn't mind breaking his arm if it weren't for the obvious repercussions and well, you being there. 

“Mr Thompson was just looking for a bouquet for his girlfriend. It might take a minute so you can hang around for a bit while I help him.” You explained, standing close to your husband, now that he was with you.

“Or,” Phil spoke, and you should’ve suspected something was up just by his tone, despite his so-called generous offer, “I help him look for what he needs, while you go ahead and close up, get your bag, lock the back room and all.”

You raised your brows, “Phil, are you sure?”

He hummed, “C’mon. ‘Bout time I put my flower knowledge into good use. And who knows?” He glanced at Chad, sharply. With his eyes on the unwanted customer, he leaned to your side, as if whispering, despite making sure Chad heard him loud and clear, “It’s probably nothin’ more than a lil’ trouble in paradise. Nothin’ I can’t sort out, man to man.”

You thought for a moment. You had your suspicions when Chad stopped by the same time your shift ended. And while you wouldn’t have minded, he wasn’t exactly helpful about his request either. Giving you doubtful answers such as his supposed girlfriend’s favourite colour or the occasion. 

Plus, you were a little eager to be away from Chad, even for a short while.

In the end, you nodded, much to Chad’s horror.

“Okay, I just need to organize a few boxes in the back,” You squeezed Phil's arm, “Thank you. I won’t take long.”

Sliding his hand down your arm, he raised your hand to his lips before letting you go.

“Take all the time y’need, pretty girl,” And as soon as you were out of sight, his voice dropped, the upturn of his lips now in a manner that Chad knew this was going to be anything but a quick talk amongst men about which apology flowers were the best, “Take all the time y’need.”

His smile was nowhere to be seen as he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched Chad pinching a leaf of random flower in the guise of interest.

But by the third flower, Graves had enough, surprising Chad with his authoritative tone.

“Y’just gonna stand there and ruin my wife’s flowers or are y’goin’ to buy somethin’ and get out?” 

“I’m…” Chad began but Phil didn’t give him the satisfaction to explain himself. He didn’t need to.

“Look. I’m really fuckin’ tired, and my girl is, too, but I’m sure you’re too busy trying to look down her dress to notice that.”

“That’s—”

“Cut,” He didn’t even need to raise a single finger as the tone he normally used on his team on a bad or serious day was enough to shut the man up, “... the bullshit, alright? Y’can buy all the flowers you want to impress her, save a puppy as soon as you see her coincidentally walk by at the park. Fuckin’ pick-me.”

The impatient smile plastered on his face told Chad everything about the commander’s patience.

“I know a degenerate when I see one.” Chad knew not to trust how calm Phil sounded, “And I know she can defend herself just fine. Hell, I taught her everything she needs to know t’deal with boys like you. But I can tell y’one thing; I’ll do so much worse than what she’s already capable of.”

Graves’ heavy footsteps sounded like a disaster waiting to happen in mere seconds before he stood in the middle of the shop.

“Might wanna get out while y’can.” He gritted out, and Chad didn’t waste a second to find out what would’ve happened if he didn’t that very instance, whether it was from you or your husband.

You returned just in time to find Graves appreciating the tulips, though, unbeknownst to you, he was also slightly miffed that some were stained by Chad’s hands alone.

“Oh, did he find what he needed?”

“‘Guess so. Took off as soon as he figured it out. He didn’t buy anythin’ though,” He swiftly carried the bag for you, pulling you in for a kiss on your forehead, “Sorry he wasted y’time.”

“That’s alright,” You grinning, not expecting him to apologize over that, “I just need to keep the flowers in the back. Mind helping me?”

Of course he didn't mind.

He moved with you, carrying much more stock to the cool room where the unsold flowers were kept. During his second run, he lightly tapped you on the ass, stealing a kiss before telling you to lock the register instead. You did just that, carefully organizing the cash and coins before locking it.

Phil worked with ease, pushing necessary pots and displays to one side and pulling the blinds down like the tasks were at the back of his hand. But he didn’t draw the blinds close all the way, though, leaving a small opening at the bottom of the windows where you and Graves could see the sun shining through and the feet of passers-by. 

But unbeknownst to you, he locked the front door and with great care, avoided the usual click.

He shamelessly glanced at you at every possible moment, watching you sit prettily as you focused on your task behind the counter. 

Once his side was done, he approached you, stannding in between your legs as soon as you locked the register.

“All done.” You smiled, crinkles forming in your eyes.

“Perfect.” He opened up his arms, closing the space in between as you embraced. But just as you basked in the wholesome reunion, you froze up, eyes wide at a familiar tent prodding your stomach. He didn't bother concealing his amusement, his smile grew at your giggles, showering one side of your face with kisses to hear more of you. 

“Thought he'd never leave.” He murmured against your skin with zero shame, which prompted you to pull back.

“You threw him out?” You asked in disbelief.

“He threw himself out,” He shrugged, not exactly lying but telling you the whole truth either. He cooed at your little frown, even holding his hand up in a saluting manner, “I’m serious. Scout's honour.” 

“Were you even a scout?” 

“Nope,” He responded without missing a beat, “But I do know how to tie a knot.” 

“Phil!” You smacked his arm, but it did nothing to deter him, “I wasn't even gone that long.” 

“Four minutes was all I needed.” He brushed his nose against your neck, looping his arms around you. You couldn't help but melt, sighing but more so in contentment than disappointment. Granted, you were anything but the latter, but who knows where your business would be if Phil did, well, whatever to your customers the way he did to Chad.

“He was bothering ya.” You knew it wasn't a question and there was no point denying it, so you hummed in confirmation.

“Kinda figure that out after a while,” You shrugged, though you didn't want him to worry either, “I, uh, had my suspicion as soon as I asked him what he was looking for.”

“Yeah? What did he really tell ya?” 

“Just said he wanted some pretty flowers for a pretty lady, and then,” You mimicked the awkward eyebrow-wiggles he did to you, much to Phil’s amusement and disdain, “And then said no to all of my suggestions.”

Phil’s tutting was akin to a Southern mother's, being his blood and all. That, and he was having second-hand embarrassment—to think Chad thought he'd have a chance using that line on you.

Hell, on anyone.

“It was getting a little embarrassing, honestly.” You couldn't help but snort, only for your smile to grow when he, too, expressed his amusement. 

‘A little’ was putting it lightly.

“You and me, sugar.”  

You leaned your weight against him just as he did against the counter, figuring that this was one of those days where he needed to just relax. Be around you as if you exuded great energy, and in his eyes, you were.

A far cry from the more despicable chaos he and his partnering team have to deal with for a living.

You brushed your fingers along his stubble, smiling to yourself at the familiar, prickly sensation. Ever the perceptive man, he angled his face so your lips were pressed on his instead of his cheek.

It was much needed for the both of you as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Though, you tried not to go too far with it, your nerves rising as your eyes flitted to the door, despite Phil’s breathy reassurance that he locked it.

Noticing your hesitance, he broke the kiss to rest his head in the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickled you, more so when his hands languidly moved up and down your body.

But then, his hands didn't stop moving upwards.

He swiftly pulled down the straps of your dress, trailing his lips along your shoulder. Though the dress wasn't fully removed, the way you haphazardly held the front of it against your chest, amplifying your cleavage which was just as alluring as you were topless.

“Phil!” You choked out, and yet, he continued. Licking across your newly exposed skin with the tip of his tongue. Starting from the collarbone, down to your tits when he squeezed your breasts together, and then, sucking on the plush at random spots. Eager to leave a mark wherever he could with shameless sounds of suckling and pops, “Here?!” 

If the way your hand shot up to his hair, massaging his scalp and pulling his head close instead of pushing him away was anything to go by, he knew dead set on making you scream.

He took a step back, encouraging you to stand up before hooking his arms under your ass, lifting you effortlessly to seat you on the counter.

His bulge was snug against you, thanks to his taller stature. The way his hands slid down your thighs prompted you to wrap your legs around him, despite the growing warmth in your face at the lewd display. There was something about the sliver of possibility of being watched that raised both your worries and anticipation, despite the opaqueness of the cream-coloured window blinds.

Plus, the shop wasn't exactly soundproof either.

He leaned forward, forcing you to lie back on the surface. His lips hadn't slowed down since, enjoying your squirms and breathless moans as he peppered your neck in kisses before raising his head.

“My wife's a beaut, isn't she?” He whispered against your temple, rolling one of your tits in between his fingers before sliding his hand down to your thigh, squeezing the plush of it, “Got these boys actin’ stupid around ya.” 

You gasped when his hand slid further under your skirt. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, teasingly pulling them up and wedging the lacy material in between your sopping pussy.

“Even I can't resist her sweet lil’ charm,” He purred, pulling your panties to the side and then bunching the hem of your dress for him to delight in all its glory, “Y’know that, don't cha?” 

He swiped two of his fingers across your lips. Even the softest touch elicited the most delicious squelch he had ever heard. 

He hummed in approval, teasing you to his heart's delight, “But she's also so, so dirty, deep down,” He made sure you made the slightest mess, letting your juices drip bit by bit, down to your tight hole and the counter itself, “And this—this is only f’me to see, right, pretty girl?’ 

He captured your lips with his before you could even muster out a breathless ‘yes’, the kiss ending just as quickly as it happened before tapping your lips with his fingers.

You didn't need to be told, but that didn't mean it was any less embarrassing. But his approving hum at your first, kitten-like lick was encouraging. It had you chasing after his praises, verbal or otherwise. 

His cock was downright throbbing, wishing it was his cock you were eagerly drooling on instead of his fingers, but who was he to say he wasn't enjoying the view in hand either? 

Once he was sure they were wet enough, he slid them out of your mouth, crudely enjoying the string of saliva for a second before dropping his fingers to your cunt. 

He mirrored your parted lips, watching your face scrunch up as he eased in one finger. Your whimper was pitiful, and the slightly wicked side of him couldn’t help but coo at you almost condescendingly, knowing you could handle something much bigger than his mere finger, even if they were much thicker than yours. 

He set a torturing pace, taking in the way your body moved, rolling your hips in hopes you’d have his fingers knuckles-deep in you. The way you half-heartedly covered your face with one hand was endearing, probably too overwhelmed by his unapologetic stare.

Then, he cranked up the speed with two fingers, greedy for more of your juices leaking out each time he moved in and out. And by the time you were clenching around three fingers, he was ruthless with his pace. 

Unforgiving. 

He looked euphoric just from bringing the pleasure to you, tipping his head back as he listened to you struggling to hold back your moans and whines whenever he pulled out to tease and slap at your clit.

“Colour?” As casual as he tried to sound, he was just as breathless as you were.

“Green…” You whined, pleading him to continue, even if it felt like you were overstimulating, “Phil, please… Please…!”

You didn’t have to repeat, for he amped up his pace and chased after the climax when the pitch of your voice heightened, arching your back like you weren’t sure if you wanted him to carry on or push him away when you were getting close.

He didn’t falter, nipping on your shoulder just a tad harder just before you trembled, cumming and clenching hard around his fingers. He cupped your face with his other hand, soothing you from your high with praises and kisses. 

“Such a good girl, my good girl. Always so brave f’me, makin’ the sweetest faces. None of those boys gets t’see what I see.” 

It wasn’t long before he carefully slid his fingers out, comforting you each time you whimpered or twitched.

Opting to continue caressing your face, he took the chance to snag a taste of you. Savouring the one taste he had been dying for each time he was away for work.

But he didn’t finish it all. As much as he wanted to, he needed to save the rest for his cock, itching to have a mere feel of your wetness.

Speaking of, he was straining, standing proud and curved a little as the tip, just a hint of red, nearly touched his belly button as soon as he pulled his trousers down. It yearned to feel you, tight and hot, his extra-vulgar actions were the results of restraining himself. 

He shuddered a little—it was entrancing, holding one of your legs up for him to brush his lips against and seeing his cock slide up and down your pussy lips. 

Even after prepping you well, it felt like his cockhead was breaching your walls. You let out a breathy sigh, tilting your head at the upside windows, tensing up at the sight of passersby’s feet at the foot of the glass.

“What do y’think, pretty girl?” He murmured against your leg, still pushing into you, “Do y’think that Thompson guy’s around, wonderin’ why the window’s closed while the car’s still out there?”

The way your head tilted back against the counter in ecstasy, the last rays of the sun shining down on your skin. Even with the AC still on, it stopped neither of you from sweating. The thinnest layer of perspiration, especially gathering along your throat, down to the valley of your breasts—oh, what a shame it would be if he didn’t have even a single lick of it.  

And he did just that, leaning in to give one of your tits a teasing lick.

Those half-lidded eyes, that drunken smile—oh, he was losing it.

He felt like the most blessed man in the world.

“Eyes on me, bunny. He can listen all he wants but this—it’s you and me.”

And it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your peak, Phil kept his eyes on your facial expression because if it wasn’t the sexiest look he had ever seen before he, too, cums with you. In you.

Holding himself up with one hand beside your head, he used the other to caress your face, allowing you all the time in the world to catch your breath. But truth be told, he had fucked the senses right out of you.

“You alright?” “Mmm…” Your murmurs had him chuckling as he carefully gathered you in his arms.

“Can y'walk? Or do I have to carry you? Because y'know I don't mind either way.” Not especially the latter. He may not be as buff as some of his team but he feels good being able to prove the assumptions wrong. So wrong.

You shook your head, and though none of you were even certain what your answer was, Phil somehow understood, but not before letting you collect yourself for as long as you needed. There was no need to rush. Not now.

“Alright, pretty girl. I can do that.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[homeofthelonelywriter]

gamer!Ghost x f!gamer!reader | Previous Part

As your eyes blinked open, confusion filled you, but you quickly remembered that you were at Simon’s. The darkness told you that it was still the middle of the night, and it took you a few moments to realize why you were even awake. Then, you noticed the pressure on your bladder and grumbled something unintelligible.

You were still in Simons's arms, now with your back pressed to his chest and his nose in your hair. Slowly, not wanting to wake him, you lifted the arm that was draped over your waist until you could slip out of bed. But of course, you still managed to wake him up. “Hm…love? Where you goin’?” Behind you, he was pushing himself up onto his elbow as he rubbed his eyes.

With a silent curse, you turned around and faced him. “Just need to pee. Go back to sleep, Si.” He mumbled something before he pushed the comforter back and got out of bed. As you stood there, confused, he rounded the bed and gently grabbed your hand before leading you to the bathroom. Without turning on the light, which would have blinded both of you, he led you to the toilet. “There.”

You stood next to him, looking up at him in the darkness, really confused. “Are you…Are you gonna stay here while I…pee?” He glanced down, his expression so sleepy, you couldn’t help but quietly chuckle. He was adorable. “Yeah, don’ wanna let you ge’ hurt.” You continued to chuckle, reaching up and gently cupping his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Si. Won’t get hurt on my way back to bed.” He shook his head gently and yawned.

“Nuh uh.” Your eyes widened. Did he just… “Did you just say ‘nuh uh’?” Simon nodded, with a grin, looking almost…proud. Your chuckle quickly turned into a full-on laugh. “You are impossible, Simon Riley.” He continued to grin, and you quickly realized that you wouldn’t get rid of him. So, resigning yourself to your fate, you quickly peed, trying to ignore the beefy man standing right beside you. At least, he had the decency to turn away until you were done.

After you flushed, he gently guided you to the sink, where you washed your hands, before he pulled you back to the bed. But before you could crawl in, he picked you up and threw you onto it, eliciting a shriek from you, which turned into a giggle as you bounced on the mattress. And within a second, he was on top of you, his head resting on your chest, as his hands wrapped around your waist like a vice. “No more getting up till mornin’.” And he was gone, soft snores filling the bedroom. Still smiling, and with your nails gently scratching his scalp, you fell asleep as well.

Next Part

A/N: This one is really short, I'm sorry. But it was funny and I kind of wanted to give this moment it's own spotlight as a little blurb. The next one will be longer again! I hope. Anyway, thank you all for all the love! I love you!!

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