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python333 · 8 months

Note

your writing is literally the best in the cod fandom. we need more injured reader angst. it's too good

don't breathe — python333

— — — —

synopsis [reader] gets buried alive after refusing to give intel to enemy soldiers and *slips up and writes reader almost dying again* oops how did that happen haha

relationships platonic!price & gn!reader.

characters cap. john price.

word count 2.7k

warnings suffocation [reader], just generally really depressing thoughts, near death??, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note aww tysm :(( dont say its the best im gonna get a complex LMAO but i appreciate it!! and yes i agree injured reader angst ftw :3 i present to you: reader gets very injured and theres a lot of angst and its basically just you suffering for a good 3/4 of the fic while the last quarter has the actual comfort!

“Hello?” You try again, your voice cracking and your tone as desperate as it can get, “Please, God, say someone can hear me.”

You’ve been trapped in a casket for about five minutes now—at least, you woke up five minutes ago. God knows how long you’ve been stuck in the stupid thing, but realistically, it’s probably been much longer than five minutes.

The last thing you remember from before you were buried is being in the interrogation room of some small terrorist group’s facility, one you and the others were led to believe was abandoned weeks ago.

Unfortunately, whoever gave you the information must’ve either had incredibly outdated information or was setting you all up for failure, because the facility was very much not abandoned and was instead full of enemy soldiers.

You all had already gotten into the building before you knew that, because of course you all had to be in the same spot at the same time—practically sitting ducks for the enemy—and of course you all had to be clueless about the possibly hundreds of people in the facility until it was too late.

As far as you know, everyone managed to escape. Everyone but you. They didn’t mean to leave you behind, of course they didn’t, they were more focused on just booking it out of the facility. However, because of that, you were now stuck—you assume—several feet underground in a casket that has a limited amount of oxygen that drops every time you take a breath.

You let out the breath you’re currently holding and suck in another deep breath, holding it as you think. Your strategy of holding your breath until you no longer could mostly worked, but it wouldn’t for long, you knew that soon you’d suffocate in all of the carbon dioxide gathering in the enclosed casket.

You don’t know how long you’d been unconscious in the casket, breathing in oxygen carelessly in your slumber, which made the whole situation worse. You didn’t even know how much time you had left.

You hate to waste your breath checking your comms, but the enemy soldiers had accidentally left your earpiece in your ear—the small device apparently going undetected under their radar—and you wanted to make the most of it. You move your arm from your side and press onto the PTT button on your earpiece, wincing a little at how cramped the casket was.

“Does anybody copy?” You ask again, staring up at the almost pitch black space above you, “I repeat, does anybody copy?”

It’s a vain attempt at contacting your team, really. You don’t know if they’re thinking about you, if the signal is going through, if they even have their earpieces on—you know nothing, and that terrifies you because you really don’t want to die right now but there’s literally nothing else you can do besides helplessly talk into your earpiece, not knowing if anyone’s listening.

Your lungs start to burn and you let out the breath you were holding, taking another deep breath and beginning to hold that one. The air feels… thick. It’s starting to get harder to breathe, and you know you shouldn’t panic but you can’t help the few worried thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind.

What am I going to do when I run out of oxygen and the only thing left for me to breathe in are my own discarded breaths? What will I do when all there is to do is suffocate? Am I going to try, in one last desperate attempt, to break out of the casket, or am I going to just lay here and die? Will my team try to find me, or will they forget about me? Have they already forgotten about me?

Before you can listen to any more of those depressing thoughts, a voice comes from your earpiece.

“H—lo? [c/n]?” It’s hard to tell with the static and the cuts in between the words, but you think it’s Price talking.

“Price?” You ask immediately, all thoughts of preserving your breath forgotten. “Holy shit, you can hear me?”

“Je—s— whe—e—” He cuts out for a moment and your stomach drops when all you can hear is static for a moment.

“You’re— You’re cutting out, Captain, what did you say?”

“Wher— —re you?” It takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying, your mind working much slower than it usually does, but once you do you shake your head negatively despite him not being there to see you.

“I don’t— I don’t know,” You respond, taking a deep breath before adding on, “I think I’m underground, I just know I’m in a casket and it’s getting harder to breathe and—”

“Okay, o—y,” You hear Price’s voice crackle, his voice becoming more distant and sounding almost muffled to you, “Sa— —ur bre—th, I’ll try to g—t some—e to track your— —tion.”

With the constant cutting out of his words and the distortion of his tone, you can barely register or process what he’s saying, and that only panics you more but you refuse to let your emotions get the better of you even in the state of disorientation you’re in, so you keep holding your breath.

A minute later, Price’s voice crackles through your earpiece again.

“Okay, we’ve got your loc—tion,” Price’s voice sounds… oddly far away, “We can—”

His voice slowly becomes muffled, and you release the breath you were holding without realizing it, slowly blinking up at the ceiling of the casket. A sort of haze falls over your mind and you can barely even hear Price anymore before you suddenly snap back to reality and hear his now much clearer voice loud in your ear.

“[c/n]? [c/n], are you still there?” You recognize his tone now, and you’re just a little shocked at the sheer amount of worry in it.

“Haven’t moved an inch,” You breathe out, before lying, “You cut out for a second for me, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, “I said we got your loc—tion and we’re hea��g out th— —w. It’s not t— far away from where —e alre—dy are, we’re ba—ely three clicks away.”

“… Clicks?” You ask, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Yes, clicks,” Price replies, sounding concerned, before hesitantly asking, “… You know what those are, right?”

“I don’t—” You struggle to find words for a moment before you speak again, your own voice starting to sound distant, “I don’t think so?”

“What do y—u mean you don’t thi— —o?” Price asks, his voice sounding freakishly close, “Are you okay?”

“No, yeah, I’m fine,” You lie through your teeth, not wanting to worry Price further, “I just… how far away are you?”

“Just ab—t two cli—ks now,” Price says, before pausing and clarifying, “Two kilometers.”

Two kilometers… how far is that? “And that’s… is that far, or?”

“No, it’s not too far. It’s just a mi—te away, we didn’t ge— —o far before Laswell got your loc—tion,” Price tells you, “We’ll be there soon, ok—y? We’ll get y— —ut of there.”

“A minute—” You cough and feel tears pricking at your eyes from how hard it is to take another breath, “A minute?”

“Yes, a minute— [c/n], are you okay?” Price asks again, before laughing nervously, “You know what a minute is, do— —ou?”

“...” You struggle to answer the question, thinking long and hard for a few seconds before hesitantly answering, “… Yeah, I do, sorry. It’s sixty seconds.”

“Why’d it take you so long to answer?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry, I—” You take a few shallow breaths, and feel a headache start to build up, “How far away are you guys?”

“We’re alm—t there,” Price promises you, “The heli’s ab—t to l—nd, and we’ll dig you up, and—”

Why is it so cold? Price’s voice cuts off and when he stops talking you realize that you’re shivering. You ball your fists up and can’t even feel your nails digging into your palms, your hands having gone numb from the cold, and realizing that makes you discover that your lips feel numb too.

Your ears start to ring and you feel that uncomfortable pins and needles feeling in your hands, the sensation slowly traveling up your arms, making you both wanting to peel off your own skin and also grateful that you can at least feel something besides the cold.

In the midst of your thinking, you hear muffled thumping coming from above you—whoever buried you couldn’t have buried you anything below six feet.

“—llo? [c/n]? Are you still there?”

You bring your hand up, the movement slow and sluggish, and you try to search around the side of your face for your earpiece. You eventually find it and when you do you press against it until you feel the PTT button being pushed.

“Still here,” You confirm breathlessly, coughing again as you take a few more shallow breaths, “I think I’m running out of— of… what’s the fuckin’ air that you can breath in, it starts with an o…”

“… Oxygen?”

“Oxygen, yeah,” You slowly blink up at the ceiling of the casket, “There’s— I think— I don’t… I think… I think I’m gonna pass out, Captain.”

“[c/n], don’t you fucking dare,” Price growls, “You stay awake, I swear to fucking god.”

“I can’t—” You take a few more shallow breaths, before coughing, the tears escaping your eyes reaching the corners of your mouth.

You can hear Price briefly talk with someone else, his voice the most serious you’ve ever heard it, before he talks directly to you again, “How much longer do you think you have before you run out of oxygen?”

It takes you a moment to register the question, but when you do, you answer, “Uh… I don’t— I think… maybe a few more minutes? I can’t tell, it’s just hard to breathe, I can’t…”

“Okay, okay,” Price softly says, gusts of wind blowing into his mic as he talks, “Give me a second, okay? We’re almost there, kid, we’ll— we’ll be there in just a minute, we just passed over you, I just need you to stay awake.”

“In a minute,” You repeat to yourself, before taking a deep breath, hoping that you have enough oxygen to make it out of this casket because you really don’t want to die here, not when there’s help just a minute away.

After what you assume is a minute or two, instead of thumping, you hear something cut into the dirt above you. The sound, however, is heavily muffled, so muffled to the point where you don’t know if you’re hallucinating or not.

Is that a symptom of CO2 poisoning? Hallucinations? You lay still in the casket and can’t help but release the breath you’d only just taken, the ringing in your ears starting up again and growing louder faster than they had before.

Your entire body is numb, your chest is heavy, and you can feel a sort of fog fall over your mind. You can distantly hear Price yelling through your earpiece, but you can’t find it in yourself to respond, instead simply laying there, your blinking starting to slow down before it eventually stops, leaving your eyes closed.

—

For a moment, you think you died and went to heaven, which would be weird, considering all the things you’ve done in your life. Not saying you’d go to hell, just saying God would probably hesitate for a second before letting you in through the pearly gates.

You blink awake, slowly but surely, and the first thing you realize is that you can feel things again. You tilt your head down to the bump under the white bed sheets laid on top of you, and squeeze your hand into a ball, watching the bump move and feeling your fingers dig into your oddly sore palms.

You let out a sigh of relief and pull your hand out from the sheets, bringing it up to your face and feeling the oxygen mask that’s been placed over your mouth and nose.

“Don’t mess with that,” You hear a voice say to your right. You turn your head and see a very tired Captain Price, dark eyebags hanging under his eyes and arms crossed, his hands having a white knuckle grip on either one of his elbows.

“…” You don’t say anything, instead you simply stare at him until he sighs and gets up from his seat. You watch silently as he leans over your bed and bends down, before pausing, and then quickly snaking his hands under your back to pull you up just enough for him to properly hug you.

You reach up with shaky hands and tentatively hug him back, not nearly as tightly—not that you don’t want to, but you physically can’t with how weak your arms are right now—but with just as much sincere affection. You can feel Price’s beard rubbing against your neck and hear his small sniffles as he embraces you tightly.

Maybe it’s his sniffling, or the way you can finally feel warmth for the first time in what feels like forever, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s holding you with so much care and affection that it almost makes you burst at the seams, whatever it is, it causes you to tear up as well.

Those tears quickly become sobs that bubble up in your throat and crawl their way out of it, forcing you to tuck your head into the crook of Price’s neck and muffle your sobs in it, muttering a small ‘sorry’ after each one.

After each ‘sorry’, Price responds with, “It’s okay, let it out, sweetheart, you’re okay,” and those reassuring words only make you cry more because God, you didn’t even think he’d find you, yet here he is, letting you cry into his neck and is reassuring you after every apology that it’s okay.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” You mumble a litany of apologies into Price’s neck, your breath stuttering and hitching as you try to hold back your sobs. Price only shushes you and rubs his hand up and down your back in a comforting gesture, bringing his head up to kiss the top of your head.

He tucks your head under his chin, “Don’t apologize, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And fuck, you know it’s just words, but it only makes you cry more.

Your sobs eventually stop, leaving you hiccuping against Price’s neck, silently crying as he continues to rub your back.

“I thought you died,” He whispers, his hand stuttering on your back, “I thought you died and I was going to dig up your dead body, when you didn’t answer me.”

You stay silent, letting him continue, “I thought you were dead when we dug you up and needed to feel your heartbeat for myself to confirm that you were still alive.”

He pauses for a moment before continuing, “I’ve been here ever since they put you in here. I haven’t slept, I’ve just stayed here, waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you that I—”

He chokes up for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I’m sorry for not even thinking to drag you out of the facility with me when we all ran out. You were— you were right there, and I couldn’t just grab your arm and take you with me, I just had to leave you behind and I—”

“You watched me while I was asleep?” You ask quietly, your eyebrows drawing together.

Price pauses and pulls his chin off of your head, and pulls you away from his neck so he can properly give you the most incredulous look he can pull, before saying, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and apologizing for practically leaving you for dead, and that’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well, I’m not worried, I’m just—” You shrug, not knowing how to explain it. Price sighs and chuckles quietly before tucking your head back under his chin.

“You’re insufferable,” He mumbles, sniffling a bit.

“… I forgive you, by the way,” You say after a moment of silence, “I didn’t really blame you in the first place.”

“You had the right to.”

“Sure I did.”

“But you didn’t blame me.”

“Right.” “…” Price stays silent for a moment before pressing another soft kiss to the top of your head and saying quietly, “You should blame me.”

“Maybe,” You mumble back, “But I won’t.”

Later, maybe an hour later, if the others see you asleep in Price’s arms while he keeps your head tucked under his chin and rubs your back affectionately—no they don’t.

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scuddisher · 5 months

Text

WHAT OTHERS CANNOT GIVE.

Price finds out you've been having second thoughts on your intimacy with him, searching for other men's services in the area—but he's convinced you're partnered with him for a reason.

RATING — MATURE & EXPLICIT (18+) PAIRING — gigolo! john price x gn! reader GENRE(S) — drabble, gigolo! au, yandere! au, smut WORD COUNT — 1k WARNINGS — mature content, language, jealousy, highly possessive john, loads of under-toning SMUT WARNINGS — sexual content, dom! price, edging, doggy-style, missionary, unprotected intercourse, creampie, bruising, mainly filth lol RELEASE DATE — DEC 14TH 2023

AUTHOR’S NOTE — me: i’m not gonna write for cod. i’m not gonna write for- [GUNSHOT]. this has been in my brain for WEEKS but now it’s finally written out <3 i live off of any type of modern-worker price concepts lmao they’re keeping me going rn.

“You know what sets me apart from others?”

John had you wrapped around his finger. Like a ring given in matrimony—the one you'd shiver over every time you had to take it off for some necessary chore where it could be damaged or lost. He knew his importance to you was real, it was what kept you coming back. But he had never taken into consideration that his services weren't enough for you.

Not with the way he had you clenching around his length, like now. “Why I am so good at my goddamn job?”

His ego had grown the more you had spoken. Broken sentences admitting to him that you had gone to see another man, asked for the pleasures of another's touch that wasn't him—you were his only regular.

John already knew, he was already hearing the gossip amidst the others. He had already found the strangely familiar phone number hidden deep inside of your drawer. In his world, of dark nights and long-time pleasure—he knew the signs of when a client was putting a distance between them and him.

You felt him twitch up into your heat as your breathing stuttered. Ears ringing loudly but only listening to the sounds of John spilling words through his gritted teeth. You knew you had crossed the line.

“What makes me the fucking best?” His words were harsh like a growl, yet spoke softly into only your ear as he pressed you into the mattress below him and felt your hips jerk back into his hot loins.

He had been fucking you for two hours. And this was once something you begged for. Once, his intimacy—now, obsession.

You felt yourself shivering from the cold air, the only major heat being the rough man behind you. His body was sweaty, hair sticking to himself along every part of his body. His happy trail soaked with drops of sweat running down his abs, stomach sucking in every time you clenched around him. You were dizzy from all that he had done to you.

And yet, he got another rise. Had released his load into you twice now, stretching you even further on his cock. That twitch of your body, mouth agape and claiming his name on your tongue. “John!”

Each time he pulled his length from you, the stickiness of his cum was enough to make you jerk and nearly orgasm until you felt the bruises he left on your hips throb in pain from his calloused fingertips pressing into them again.

You felt the cold air of his dick leaving you, could only whine as his hand pulled at your head until his lips were on your ear. And just as you felt the rush of his hot cum hitting the skin of your ass, he spoke again.

“Because I focus on my own pleasure, not yours. And that makes you my toy.”

Your whine was enough to have him turning you over to look at him, his touch becoming gentle as he heard the hisses and whispered words from your lips. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry.” He was still John. “Sorry is a tough word for you to use, isn't it?” His accent had grown thicker by each syllable. He was playing with your emotions. “Did you apologize to the man you called out that late night?”

There it was. The jealousy he had pent up, rocked his hips into yours until he almost forgot, only to see your big eyes staring up at him with tears falling down your cheeks to remind him.

“The one whose number you dialed instead of mine? Met in the latest hour of the night? Asked to pleasure you in some new way to get your fucking rocks off?!”

His beard was still covered in the wetness of your arousal, mixing with his spit and displaying itself on your skin each time his words turned angrier. Everything he had done to you tonight, it was all to convince you.

His mind was lost in his own thoughts as he spoke aloud. “Could he even make you cum? Know how to use you? Did he even get a touch before you realized he was someone else and not me?”

His hand moved from your heat, feeling you throb against the little friction he gave you until it found the pulse of your heartbeat at your neck. His thumb pressed into the spot, begging to feel how fast your heart would beat when he finally told you what he wanted to say all night.

“I'm the only person in the world that can make you cum like this.” His hard length was in his free hand, pressing into your heat once more until you were all-consuming. You saw the flinch in his face as he felt your walls feather with overuse, but he still found himself filling you up.

You felt his hips stutter once he was balls deep. The way his cock twitched from being sensitive like he hadn't used every hard-on he had gotten that night to prove his point. Now was his final show.

The ring of your arousal around him only caused a louder squelch and he pulled from you and thrusted himself back in. His speech only turned guttural when he felt how tired you were, how well he had taught you this lesson.

And as your body took him in and then kept going, your rise finally crashed down on you.

“You’re the o-only person who I have seen this many times in my field of work.”

You squeezed him, milked him of one more gushing orgasm, and then fell right down into your own. “Your body only knows me now. This—” He winced feeling your entire body turn into mush as your orgasm finally swept over you. “This is only for us.”

His words quieted as his head fell into your shoulder, mouth kissing at your neck. You could only cry, only whine his name softly. He finally claimed what he wanted to since the first day your shaky little fingers dialed his number.

“I'm the only one who can give you what others cannot.” He spoke so gently, pressing his entire weight onto your form below him and into the mattress. “My love.”

© scuddisher — all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

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imbeingchokeholded · 8 months

Text

Getting Clean

I need to be put into jail, stupid Scottish bitch.

Anyway this is probably lowkey just gonna be smut completely lmao.

I promise the soap pun titles will end.

Also so sorry this took so long because my mind is an enigma and writing for either the COD fandom or the RDR2 fandom has been deleted out of my mind.

Lets go lmao

WARNINGS!: female reader because im a woman and soap makes me yell real loud (nothing against him being shipped with male readers or 141, good for him what a king), NSFW, fuckin, im so bad at warnings just know its gonna be fuckin happenin, choking?? Voice kink???? Breeding kink for SURE. Just major NSFW basically porn with negative plot. Like... .5 plot.

Scottish slang/words may be inccorect due to using google, so please lemme know if its wrong, I'll happily fix it.

I am so sorry for spelling mistakes i finished this at like 2am

The mess hall seemed way too empty, everyone was out on missions, covert, recon, whatever, and while there was a shit ton of others there on base, without most of the 141 team it just felt....wrong.

You sigh and look at your food. It's not that it's bad food. In fact, it looks delicious, but sitting alone, at this massive table that usually you shared with Ghost, Gaz, Rudy and Alejandro, as well as Soap, just made you feel...down.

They were easily the people you were closest too on base. Working so closely with them it was only a matter of time before it happened. All of you were close friends, it was rare for any of you to stray from the group and talk to anyone else.

So today, sitting in the mess hall, was no different.

You stare at the food a little longer, and poke it around with your fork, that strange foreign feeling in your chest.

"Aye Lass, lookin' at it like tha' cannaé change how it tastes."

You smile and twist your head to look at Soap as he nears the table, a tray of food of his own in his hands.

"Johnny! I didn't know you were here!" You smile wider as he takes a seat next to you, and chuckle as he takes a bite of food from his tray.

"Ah, I jus' got back from a mission not too long ago, Price is givin' me a wei break."

You nod and smile at him, your heart seems a little lighter now, someone who you're far closer to now with you.

Plus it was Johnny, how could you not be happy around him? He was the obnoxious fun loving one of the group, he could be serious yes, but it was rare. Most days he joked, laughed, spat out witty sarcastic comments at everyone who passed.

You supposed that was part of the reason you'd grown to have such deep feelings for him in the first place.

Of course you'd never tell him that, you were far too nervous to do that.

Handsome, sweet, a deep voice, which had a Scottish accent on top of it? You could listen to him speak about nonsense for the entire day.

Sometimes missions with him were absolute hell.

He did his job, he was a good Sargent, he knew what he was doing, trained properly, getting things done the way they needed to, but his commentary....

That damn voice of his, he didn't even need to be next to you, all he needed was that voice and his stupid little sarcastic quips.

Hell, sometimes it wasn't even in comms.

He'd yell out something simple, that shouldn't have been attractive, yet it was.

Something as simple as "Changing mags!" Could make your face heat up and turn a violent red, hell, he basically growled at the end of the sentence whenever he said it. Being near him was almost like having a bomb strapped to your chest. Threatening to go off at any second.

Everytime he said "Steamin' Jesus" you couldn't help but imagine him using it in a far more intimate senario, with a slight change of tone, and that never failed to send a flood of warmth between your legs.

You swore that he knew what he was doing too, like he could sense the tension between the two of you, or see the red on your face, but if he did he never brought it up, and for that you were thankful.

Trying to explain fraternization to Price would not be a fun experience. Not only that but bringing it up would probably make you flustered beyond speaking ablity.

"Hey, Y/N. I been talkin' yer fuckin' ear off, you still listenin'?"

You shake your head and look at him, your face feels hot and you're sure you're crimson.

"Ye alright Lass?"

That stupid nickname makes the blush worsen and you simply clear your throat.

"I'm fine Soap. Thinking."

"You can call me Johnny off duty." He laughs. "You usually do....ya nervous about something? Just a wei bit?"

His voice carries a bit of teasing tone and you can't help but feel a bit if irritation at the smug bastard.

"Not nervous, no."

"Ah, not nervous, yet red in the face....Aye...I got yer number bonnie."

He snorts and then continues to eat.

"Really?" You cross your arms and look at him. "Do you now MacTavish?"

"Pretty obvious if you ask me." He shrugs.

"Okay, so tell me then."

Your face burns at the sudden burst of confidence, and as a smirk crosses over Johnny's face you suddenly feel very foolish about what you've just said.

"Lass...tha's not very appropriate for me to say here, where anyone could hear....now is it?"

That smirk stays on his face as he lowers his voice to a low whisper as he gets the last few words out.

You swallow, and your face burns deeper.

"I don't know what you mean Johnny."

"I'm sure." He offers you a laugh and then stands, the look in his eyes makes your body shiver. "I think I'll head to my room...feel free to...visit, if you'd like."

You watch as he walks off as though nothing had happened and your entire body seems to shiver.

He sticks his hands in his jean pockets as he walks away, which you obviously noticed, because of course you did, with an ass like his.

What the hell are you gonna do? Follow him? How the hell did he figure you out so quickly? Did he mean what he said?

Little did you know Johnny was thinking similarly.

"What the hell were you thinkin'? Saying somethin' like that? Y/N does NOT feel that way about you, you probably just fucked somethin' up, fuckin' idiot."

It takes you only a matter of minutes before you stand from the table and head after Johnny, towards his room in the base.

Your heart is thumping so loudly its the only thing you can hear.

Your body seems to be reacting on its own though, your thoughts, while dirty and definetly in need of some....cleaning....ironically, are wondering what'll happen to your friendship afterwards, but your body doesn't seem to care.

Your mind races with the thought of what would happen if you were caught too, it wasn't exactly professional to fuck your coworker in the military.

When you reach his door you breathe deeply, hesitant as you raise your hand to the door. You stopped for a moment and then, you knock on the door.

Johnny opens the door nearly instantly, only a matter of seconds pass before the door knob clicks and he stands in the doorway before you, leaning against the doorframe as he looks down at you.

"Tha' was quick Lass."

"Shut up, let me in."

"Aw...c'mon now...be nice..." He lowers his voice, whispering the last two words, a smug smirk coming over his mouth.

You feel a rush of heat through your chest and look to your feet, your entire face seems to burn, your ears even feel as though they're burning.

"Please Johnny?"

You feel his hand come under your chin and he lifts your head to look him in the eye, not gently but not rough either.

"Try again Lass, look me in the eye."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

"Please let me in, you stupid Scottish fuck."

"Tha's not very nice...thought I said be nice..."

You clench your jaw and stare at him, that smug grin on his face somehow managing to irritate you and make you horny all at the same time.

"Please Johnny? Let me in?"

"Ye really do want me, don't ye? Dinnaé know you felt so strongly towards me.." He smirks at you and the moves aside, dropping his hand from your chin to let you in.

You look around his room, staring at all the posters and things he has lined up on the walls. Considering this was Johnny's room....you expected it to be far dirtier, less organized, yet as you looked around at the rest of his room you noticed everything had a place, everything was neat, he didn't even have dirty clothes on the floor.

Neat and organized....despite his very chaotic and uncooridinated nature.

You're busy looking this over, viewing his room when he comes up behind you.

He leans in close.

"So, you were havin' thoughts then?" He smirks, you can feel it without even looking at him. "You? Havin' thoughts...innocent little Y/N always focused on the job Y/N....havin' thoughts like those....and about me..."

His voice lowers, it's nearly a growl, and a hand wraps around your waist, his fingers slide gently under the bottom of your shirt, touching the bare skin of your stomach, only just barely.

"Naughty...naughty..."

You look down, your face is completely red, scarlet, and it burns hotter than you thought possible.

By looking down you didn't really account for the fact that, that would only leave your neck open, and it takes all your will power you have not to make a sound when you feel Johnny's lips agains the skin there.

"I'm suprised it took you this long to notice Johnny." You breathe out, hoping your voice wouldn't give out on you.

He stops, his lips still gently placed against your skin as he speaks.

"Really now....been very noticable has it Hen?"

The nickname sends a shiver though your spine, though you know the word itself isn't the issue.

"I think so..." You breathe. "Can't you tell when my voice changes over comms sometimes?"

"Ye get that flustered...over comms? Ye don't even see me.."

He chuckles and presses another kiss to your neck, you're sure the next one he offers will be brusing.

"Not my fault..." You mumble. You've almost collapsed against him, leaning your body weight onto him, though he doesn't mind in the slightest.

"Really now...now...can ye explain to me what it is on comms that makes things so hard to focus then Hen?"

"Why must you make things difficult?"

"Difficult?"

He laughs at you and then stands up straight, his hand leaving the skin of your stomach.

He moves to his bed and takes a seat, nearly plopping down, he sits with his legs open and slaps both hands on his thighs, leaning forwards.

"It isn't difficult, it's a really easy question now Lass."

You cross your arms and look at him, watching as he leans back a little a simple smirk on his face.

"If ye really want somethin' tonight Y/N, yer gonnae have to tell me."

That smug look doesn't leave his face, rather it seems like it only gets worse as he utters out your name, emphasising it, lowering his voice as he does. To add to this you watch as his hands leave his thighs, palms upwards in a sort of shrug gesture.

He knows what gets you flustered over comms. He knows, you know he knows, but you also know he's gonna make you say it.

"You damn well know what it is Johnny."

"Oh I do, but it'll be much better when it comes out of yer mouth, preferrably with your face all red."

You swallow and look to the floor, keeping your arms crossed as you speak.

"I swear sometimes you do it on purpose. You do those damn jokes, say those fucking statements and you always lower your voice, especially if you know I'm listening. I told you how I liked your accent ONCE and now you use it everytime you can."

"Aye, I do." Again, as before, you can hear that smirk on his face. "I'll admit it. I take every chance I can."

You scrunch up your nose, refusing to look up at him.

Theres silence for a moment and then you hear him shuffle, only then do you look up.

He simply catches your gaze and makes a motion towards himself with his two middle fingers, pretty much beckoning you towards him.

Despite the stubborness you've shown earlier you can't help but follow his silent command.

As you reach him and stand inbetween his legs his hands creep over your thighs, fingers curling around the back of them, squeezing the meat of them, tightly, firmly. Just the right amount of pressure.

He looks up at you, his face a little more serious now, the smirk from earlier still lingers, but it's far less noticable.

"Ye know Y/N, I've thought about having you in here....a lot."

"Really?" You stop a moment, your body tingling, stemming from his fingertips outwards. Your mind seems a little fogged. "I thought....I thought maybe you'd invited me in here today just to...well honestly I thought you were just fucking with me Johnny, but...I couldn't just ignore it."

"Nae, no fuckin'with you, no this time."

"So...does...um...does that mean..." You swallow, struggling with your words. "Look....Johnny I think it's obvious I've liked you for a while now...are...if we're really gonna do this...I...what does it mean? Anything? Just...are we fuck buddies, or something more because...."

Your words trail off, you can't help but cross your arms, a sudden burst of what you can only assume is nearly shame creeps up through you.

Johhny's face changes, subtly, but you catch it, and you don't miss the squeeze he gives your thighs either.

"Hen, once I get a taste of you I don't think I could have anyone else."

He's quick with his movements as he slides his hands up towards your ass, and pushes you slightly closer to himself.

The action he does next is a simple one, yet it sends all kinds of feelings through you.

His tongue touches the skin of your stomach, his hand gently pushing your shirt up out of the way. He licks a stripe upwards, keeping eye contact with you as he does.

"Jesus Johnny...."

He offers a chuckle and grips your hip with his free hand just a little tighter.

"I'm gonna ask this once Bonníe," he looks at you, only a small trace of a smile on his lips. "Are ye sure ye wanna do this? I'll stop if ye say stop, but after this I won't ask again."

Your thoughts swirl in your head for a moment. Wondering if it is what you wanted. If it was worth chancing your friendship, chancing your job, getting caught fraternizing is no small penalty.

In the end your body decides for you.

You nod.

"I do."

That smile of his fits on his face slowly, showing off those pearly whites. His surprisingly sharp canines.

His tongue comes out once more, again licking up your stomach, this time he stands as he moves himself upwards, only bringing his mouth away when he reaches the area just below your breasts, letting your shirt fall back to its original place.

When he finally stands his mouth goes into good use, his lips meeting yours with a feverancy, practically a need. He fists your hair, and darts his tongue into your mouth without any hesitance.

His free hand snakes around your body, finding purchase on the plump of your asscheek.

You let out a moan against his lips which in turn pulls one from him.

Your hands wrap around the back of his neck, grabbing onto any part of him you can.

His hand nestled within your hair offers a tug, pulling your head back, taking your lips from his and exposing your neck to him.

His lips latch onto your throat, open mouthed hot kisses against your skin, making your body shiver, tingle. His tongue licks along your skin, warm, and again...hungry.

"Johnny..." You whine out his name, and your body flames up, a part of you is curious as to how he'd gotten you so needy so quickly.

The other part did not give a shit.

"So pretty when you whine like that Bonníe..."

He smiles against your skin, moving towards your jaw, still dragging his lips along your neck, refusing to leave it.

"Maybe we should see if I can get any more out of ye..."

"Johnny...we have to be careful..." You mumble. "We...we can't be caught-"

"Yer right Lass...that might even be more fun..."

He pulls back to look at you, his eyes seemed to darken with the idea that begins to plauge his mind.

"Let's see if ye can keep from screamin' huh?"

"Johnny-"

He cuts you off as his hand come up around your throat, offering a gentle squeeze to the sides as he begins to push you down to the bed.

"Do yer best for me Love." He gives you that goddamn smirk again. "Stay quiet...Can ye do that?"

You nod, your breathing becoming heavier as he stares down at you, hand still wrapped around your throat.

"Atta girl."

He coos out the words and everything in your body seems to be completely englufed in flame.

"You this charming to every girl you fuck Johnny?"

You breathe out the words, hands moving to his chest as you settle against the mattress.

"Jus' you Lass."

Rough hands slide under your shirt, over your stomach, bringing the shirt along with him.

His thumb glides up the center of your torso, pushing down slightly as he continues his movement, his other hand only leaves your throat when he needs to remove the shirt fully.

Your bra is taken off with seemingly expert practice, your breasts exposed to the air, but quickly they're found by hands and mouth.

A rough palm on one and a wet mouth sucking and licking the other.

It takes all your power not to moan, your back arching up into the feeling.

You hadn't been aware of just how touch starved you'd been.

One of your hands tangles into his mohawk, attempting to hold onto something of him.

He looks up at you, pulling away from your breasts.

"Nae, I dinnae say ye could touch lass."

"Johnny-"

"Shut tha' pretty mouth lass...see if ye can be quiet yeah?"

You nod, swallowing as he reaches for your pants. His fingers hooking under the waistband as he unbuttons them with the other.

With one swift movement he's pulled both your jeans and panties down, leaving you bare to him.

"Would ye look at tha'...such a bonnie sigh', Love..."

He smirks and moves in, hands finding your inner thighs, bringing a sigh from your lips.

Before you can say much else you feel a swipe of his tongue over your heat, already you were slick, this was certain to make the problem worse.

His grip on your inner thighs gets a little tighter as he continues with you, he moves his tongue with expertise, eating you out as though he's a man starved.

"Johnny..."

You can't help but let his name slip out, grabbing the sheets beneath you, squirming your hips against his face.

He looks up at you from his position, and even in his eyes you can see the smirk he'd wear.

It's far too soon that he pulls away, you'd been so close to your climax, so close to having that release, until he'd denied you that.

Again you whine his name, and he moves, climbing over you, grabbing your face with one hand, firmly holding your cheeks.

"Aw lass...wei bonnie...are ye feelin' a wei bit needy?"

You nod, the best you can in his grip, moving your hips against his clothed arousal, hoping for even a little bit of friction.

You give a nother small whine, this one more of a sound than that of a noise, again reaching for him, only for his other hand to pin your wrists above you.

"Ah...I told ye, nae touchin' lass"

You simply look at him, unable to do much in your senario. It's then that he kisses you, deeply, his tongue gliding against yours, the taste of your own slick in your mouth.

He lets go of your face, only to rushedly un button his pants, his problem suddenly a bit more annoying than it had been.

The moment he's free, his pants and boxers disgarded he simply looks down at you, seemingly thinking.

Its then that he grabs you by the hips and easily, effortlessly, flips you onto your stomach, running his pointer finger and thumb down your spine for a moment.

"Ye look so good from this angle love..."

He leans over you, his chest to your back, head angled right next to your ear.

He lowers that damn voice of his again.

"Can ye be a good lass fer me and arch jus' a wei bit... chest down love, ass up."

Of course you do as he asks, or rather tells, like its instinct, pressing your chest further into the bed, raising your rear higher into the air.

He leans back, taking a look at the sight in front of him, his hands going to the flesh of your ass like magnets, squeezing gently, your ass and hips, as though he can't decide which he likes better.

"Look at ye...such an obediant little lass...ye like doin' what yer told do ye? Is tha' why ye like rankin' under me? Enjoy the way I order ye around on the field? Makes ye think..."

You don't answer, focused on the feel of his hands, its only when he moves one of those hands to the back of your neck.

"I need an answer lass."

"Yes, yes I do Sir."

You can nearly feel the smirk on his face, he squeezes the back of your neck a little tighter.

"Sir?"

"Yes sir."

"Oho...I like tha' lass..."

He grabs both of your asscheeks again for a moment before you feel one leave only to feel him push into you.

You let out a groan as he pushes in, as much as you can take, to the base, you feel incredibly full. He's girthy.

"Fuck Johnny..."

You murmer.

"Nae...yer gonna call me sir from now on Love..."

You swallow, waiting for him to move.

"Do ye understand me?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good lass."

He gices you this praise and gently he moves his hips, his hand pushing your spine back into that arch you'd subtly moved away from.

His hips move slow, almost painfully so, and he knows this, teasing you with his hands gliding over your back.

"Ye look so good lass...all this jus' fer me..."

"Johnny please...."

"Aw lass...what did I jus' say?"

"Please...sir?"

"Tha's better....use yer words bonnie...what is it ye want?"

"Faster sir, please?"

You hear the small beg in your voice, sure that by the end of all this you'd be begging a lot more.

"Tha's a girl."

His hand moves to your hip, gripping hard as the other moves to your hair, grasping the roots of it, giving a tug as he moves his hips a little faster, filling you with his size, over and over again.

It's only a minute or so before he seems to loose that idea of torturing you, his pace picking up, hips snapping against yours, that slap of skin on skin, the squelch of your arousal ringing in your ears.

"Fuckkk y/n...." It comes out in nearly a growl, and he pushes your upper half further into the bed.

"Yer doin' so good bonnie...so fuckin' good..."

Another maon crawls its way out of your throat, the others you'd managed to quell, small sounds here and there, but you can't stop this one.

You push your hips against his, letting your knees spread further apart trying to get him in at a deeper angle.

"Please sir, please, fuck-"

The words tumble out of your mouth before you can register what you're even trying to beg for, your figers clench at his sheets beneath you, they smell like him, everything smells like him.

"Y/N..."

His voice is a groan, it's all you hear as he shifts your position, yanking you up by your hair, bringing your back to his chest, thrusting himself upwards into you.

"Johnny...fuck!"

You find your arm going over your shoulder, wraping around the back of his neck, trying to find purchase on something

His lips latch onto your neck as though he's drawn to it, his tongue swiping over your skin and his teeth leaving bites along your throat and shoulders. He breaths hard against you, inhaling your scent.

"Steamin' bloody Jesus..."

He groans, his pace picking up a little further, one hand still brusingly on your hip, the other slides down your front, fingers finding your clit easily.

It brings a moan to the surface of your lips, and rather than being scolded Johnny simply murmers another praise of 'good lass' in your ear, his hips snapping against yours, rythmic.

"Johnny-"

"Y/N..." He huffs, his fingers going faster against your bud. "'M close...need ye to tell me where..."

"Inside Johnny, please...fill me up..."

"Jesus Y/N..."

His voice is breathy, heavy against your skin as he continues, his hips getting erratic, until finally he gives a groan, shoving his face into your shoulder, riding out his climax, the feeling of his cum hitting your inner walls pushing you closer to yours.

He rides out his, moving his hips slightly, much slower than before, and keeps his hand going, trying to keep his previous pace.

"C'mon lass...ye can let go now...it's yer turn..."

He mumbles, breatheless.

It's not much longer of this praising and the movement of his fingers before you do just that, squeezing around him and moaning out his name as you finally reach that high.

As the two of you come down, breathing hard, Johnny still inside you, head leaning against your shoulder, he slips an arm around your waist and offers a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

"Thank ye lass..." he murmers. "Tha' was fun."

"Thank you Johnny."

"Ye ain't gotta thank me...I've wanted to do tha' for god knows how long."

"Maybe we can do it again sometime."

"Oh trust me lass...we will be."

#cod #soap cod #johnny mactavish #cod mwii #john mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader

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dimlylittorch · 4 months

Text

Random Thoughts: Edition 5

things my adhd ass would say to the CoD boys if we were dating (this is coming from a plus size, gay, transgender man😭 don’t expect all of these to be relatable💀)

Featuring: John Price, Simon Ghost Riley, Johnny Soap MacTavish, Kyle Gaz Garrick, König, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo Parra, and Phillip Graves

My Masterlist🌱

Warnings: NSFW

(Mainly just foul language and mentions of smut, no actual in detail stuff lmao)

John Price:

“Am I in your will?”

“Could I be your last husband or do I need to get a dick before we legalize anything?”

“You’re not too old to have a matching Halloween costume with me, John!”

Simon Ghost Riley:

“They always ask us who where’s the pants in the relationship, but personally I’d much rather know who wears the lingerie”

“You don’t have to have a motorcycle to wear a motorcycle helmet..”

“Can I have a balaclava too?”

Johnny Soap MacTavish:

“Would you rather watch Brave or BraveHeart?”

“Look- all I’m saying is that a collar might bring your whole outfit together.”

“Can you sit on my lap for once?”

Kyle Gaz Garrick:

“If you ever decide you want to break up, I’d like a two week notice.”

“Is a pickle considered a vegetable?”

“You’d be a cute bunny dad. That pet suits you the best.”

König:

“Do you think you’d even be legally viable for limb extension surgery since you’re already fucking massive?”

“I’m not saying you have to carry me around the house, but I’m not saying you don’t have to either.”

“You really are just my big teddy bear”

Alejandro Vargas:

“When I’m mad at you I’ll pronounce your name like ‘Al-e-jan-dro’ to piss you off in return’”

“I don’t even drink, but I’d get drunk with you”

“I’m trying to learn Spanish! Like- I know cabesa means head. Can I give you cabesa?”

Rodolfo Parra:

“Is rod an acceptable nickname for you? It’s your name, but like.. also makes your other rod sound pretty good, right?”

“Alphabet should’ve just been spelled as abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz”

“You’d look cute with a tummy, yknow”

Phillip Graves:

“On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate the boy pussy?”

“Do men manspread to establish dominance or do their balls just get squished?”

“Can I sit on the counter and help you get ready?”

Hope you guys enjoyed this!! Let me know if you’d like a part 2! Asks are always open and so are tips <3

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emperor-palpaminty · 9 months

Note

könig with kiss #7 or #22 is making my brain go djsvsishahwh

🫠 i am delusional

Hehehee, I did #7 for another fandom, but I think 22 looks fun especially with feral battle Konig!! It's very much like Konig to have an adrenaline high after a battle and rush in for a kiss. Konig x GN reader (Call sign Banshee because that's what I've been using and my brain won't give me another name lmao)

List 'o smooches found here!!

(TW for mentions of guns, fighting, wars, all the typical COD things)

His whole body was on fire and it felt good.

The guns, fires, yelling of orders, it was all a soundtrack Konig had become used to. Despite his large body he moved easily and quickly, even stealthily. He could feel his heart rate spiking and had long since lost his own sense of self, and gotten lost in the fight.

Banshee lived up to the callsign. They moved rapidly in the darkening day, eyes set on the end battle, the war-cries from their mouth a sign, a foreboding, of death. Konig fought alongside his team mate- hand-in-hand, death-in-death.

Despite his spiking of adrenaline and the burning of his lungs everything felt slow. Especially when he caught sight of Banshee. The molten rage in their eyes melted into smooth but aggressive movements. Confidence was in their every step. They were danger, wrapped in it, cloaked and welcomed by war and blood and savagery.

It made some part of Konig choke up- his heart skipped a beat, he admitted. The firing of guns ceased for a moment and Banshee turned to him, ready to follow the Colonel's orders.

Konig felt a low hum escape him as he strided over, long legs easily moving over carnage and darkness. The hood on his head fluttered in the wind.

Power. Death. Beauty. It was all here right in front of him.

He grasped the back of Banshee's neck with one hand and shoved the edge of his hood up with his other hand. Through the glove, the smaller operator was hot boiling to his touch. Konig yanked them in and leaned down, mouth pressing against Banshee's.

His ears rang, tongue pressing against theirs on the dark battlefield. A noise mangled in Banshee's throat as their fingers grabbed the front of Konig's shirt, grasping him. He could taste their pulse, smell the sweat. Adrenaline poured through them, open and honest, and Konig grunted into the kiss, deepening it as much as he could.

He pulled away after a moment that felt too long, keeping the hood raised. He couldn't see Banshee, but he felt warm and deep breaths fanning his face. "When this is done, liebling," Konig huffed, his thumb digging into the back of their neck. "You will be mine."

He dropped his hold. His low voice reverberated in the air as he walked, the hood brushing his mouth as he moved away. "I will see you at base."

His heart pounded. Those lips, those sounds, somehow made him feel more alive than a battle ever could.

#konig x you #cod konig x reader #konig x reader #cod konig x you #cod konig reader insert #call of duty reader insert #cod reader insert #minty writes #call of duty konig #call of duty konig x reader #konig #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig call of duty #cod konig #konig reader insert

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persesphonestears · 1 year

Text

More cod incorrect quotes

A/N: There is an obvious pattern cause I used a generator lmao anyway

C/W: uh swearing? i think thats it for once

Ghost: Favourite horror movie?

Soap: It

Price: Saw

Gaz: Annabelle

R/n: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

Price: You're a loose cannon, Ghost.

Ghost: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?

Soap: I think you play by your own rules.

Gaz: No way, they think rules were made to be broken.

Price: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.

Ghost: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. R/n is a loose cannon.

R/n: *smashes a chair*

Price: Good morning.

Ghost: Good morning.

Soap: Good morning.

Gaz: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.

R/n: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS

Price: Where's Ghost, Soap, and Gaz?

R/n: They're playing hide and seek.

Price: Where?

R/n: I don't think you get how this game works.

Price: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

Ghost: Several traffic violations.

Soap: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Gaz: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.

R/n: Also, that’s not our car.

Price: Nothing in life is free.

Ghost: Love is free!

Soap: Adventure is free.

Gaz: Knowledge is free.

R/n: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

R/n: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends.

Ghost: ... Your what?

R/n: My friends.

Price: Are they saying “friends”?

Gaz: I think they're being sarcastic.

Soap: No, no, no, this is delirium, they've cracked from being awake all night. Hey, R/n! All of your friends are in this room.

R/n: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.

Price: Good responses for being stabbed with a knife?

Gaz: Rude.

Soap: That’s fair.

Ghost: Not again.

R/n: Are you going to want this back? Or can I keep it?

R/n: Is having a penis fun?

Ghost: It has its ups and downs.

Soap: Sometimes it’s a little hard.

Gaz: It’s a pain in the ass.

R/n: Oh, Jesus, fuck, guys, come on.

Gaz: That's it, we're gonna go out and find what we need!

Price: To the city?

Gaz: Yeah, no matter what!

R/n: Well- How exactly do you propose we do that, exactly?

Gaz: I... I don't know!

Ghost: Oh come off it, be serious!

Gaz: I am serious!

Ghost: You're insane!

Soap: Why, if only we were all wiener dogs, our problems would be solved!

Everyone:

Price: What???

Soap: Or maybe it was a basset hound!

R/n: no no maybe Soap is onto something..

Ghost, panicked: YOU'RE ALL INSANE!

Price: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what R/n will and will not eat.

Ghost: Grass? Yes!

Price: Moss? Yes!!

Ghost: Leaves? Ohh, yes!

Price: Shoelaces? Strange but true!

Ghost: Worms? Sometimes!

Price: Rocks? Usually not.

Ghost: Twigs? Usually!

Price: Soap's cooking? Inconclusive!

Gaz: How did you… test this?

Price: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if they eat it, they eat it.

Gaz: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.

Soap: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

Price: Are we really going to let R/n keep the cat?

Gaz: Hey we kept R/n.

Price: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?

Ghost: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.

Price: Three of us saw it, Ghost. How do you explain that?

Ghost: *points at Soap* Sleep deprivation. *points at Gaz* Paranoia. *points at R/n* Delusional personality disorder.

Price, trying to convince R/n to join the task force: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone alongside us who's really... smart!

Gaz: And loud!

Soap: And grumpy!

Ghost: And oblivious to reality

R/n:

Price: Bridge the generation gap by combining old and new slang into one!

Gaz: Tubular AF!

Soap: Mood to the max!

Ghost, annoyed: Groovy, I hate it.

R/n, just as annoyed: If she breathes, she’s a square.

Price: Tf

Price: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life

Ghost: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years

Soap: Oh wow, my innocence! Thank you for finding this!

Gaz: I knew I lost that potential somewhere!

R/n: My entire childhood and happiness, is that you?

Price:

Price: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?

Price: What does 'take out' mean?

Soap: Food

Gaz: Dating

Ghost: Murder.

R/n: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A LIL BITCH.

Price: Anyone d-

Ghost: Depressed?

Gaz: Drained?

Soap: Dumb?

R/n: Done with life?

Price: -done with their work... need to get Laswell to get you all therapy …

Price: So uhhh... question: my ‘friend’ keeps on going into the pantry and grabbing handfuls of fettuccine... uncooked...

Gaz: I would hope they're not grabbing handfuls of cooked fettuccine!

Soap: In your pantry!

Price: Yeah... and eating them raw, and they keep calling them 'chips'. ... How do I make them stop?

Ghost: Is your friend here?

Price, motioning to R/n: Yeah.

Gaz, to R/n: You're a monster! Words MEAN things! >:(

Soap: Does anybody remember- I haven't been to Olive Garden in many moons- but they DO have a like- fettuccine bottle that you can just- grab em out of and chew-

Soap: HOLD ON. WAS THIS A PRANK YOU GUYS PULLED ON ME WHEN WE WENT TO OLIVE GARDEN AFTER THAT MISSION?!

Soap: NO, STOP. EVERYBODY SHUT UP. DO THEY GIVE YOU RAW FETTUCCINE TO CHEW ON IN THE LOBBY OF THE OLIVE GARDEN

Everyone else: No.

Soap, to Gaz and R/n: YOU FUCKIN BASTARDS

Gaz: YAAAAAAAAY!

R/n: THE PRESTIGE!

Price: What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Gaz: 'Prettiest Smile'

Soap: 'Nicest Personality'

Ghost: 'Most likely to start a bar fight'

R/n: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Price: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?

Soap: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies

R/n: Socks are Feetie Heaties

Gaz: Forks are Stabby Grabbies

Soap: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties

R/n: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies

Gaz: Stamps are Lickie Stickies

Ghost, annoyed: You are disappointments

Price to Ghost: You agreed to join the team.

Soap: I’m an idiot.

Ghost:

Price:

Gaz:

R/n:

Soap:

R/n: If you’re waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.

This stupid long omg, uh anyway I used a incorrect quote generator cause I'm lazy but edited most of them so the make some more sense :>

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shotmrmiller · 9 days

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toni i am absolutely smashed rn and saw that u said we could rant in your inbox so here we go it will just be me gushing about how absolutely cool you are like ur account was one of the first i ever found after returning to tumblr since like 2015 and it’s really cool and you write so well and i’m GOBSMACKED that someone like you exists. hello?? beautiful. sunshine. stunning. the highlight of my day seein those lil toni drabbles on my page. embarrassing enoigh i was talking about cod with some irl friends and now we all read ur shit like a lil gaggle of groupies ha ha good stuff mwah never stop being so FREAKING cool (please accemt my proposal, i have ring pops you can have the green one it’s the best) also for the sake of sober me shhh pretend this never happened ok hve AN AMAZING!!! Day night morning evening afternoon.

peace, love, kyle garrick is so freaking sexy,

elle

take this simon art

sorry i scribbled out my oc ok i’m SORRY remember to hydrate and continue on being FREAKING beautiful 🥰🥰🥰💖

idk how to delete that man i’m so sorry i figured out how to delete that last image it was a picture of an apple if you wanted context maybe i should add it back okay no i won’t

anyway sometimes i think about how badly i want biblically accurate ghost to love me and then i think about how i would probably cry if he breathed on me and then gag the second man starts cookin shit like beans on toast?? the fuck is that.

over and up and out,

elle aka elle

YOU ARE SO COOL TONI THANK YOU FOR EXISTING GOOD LORD

i don't remember the last time i had a ring pop but i'll accept it so long we get eloped i don't want a big ol thing but if we dont go to herculaneum then our marriage will be nulled faster than kim k's with that big brute from the NBA.

kyle is so freaking sexy i agree. i don't use that word cuz it gives me the heebies but for you, since youre one drink/edible away from gazing upon a biblically accurate angel in the flesh. feathers? eyes??? he's A CRAZY SEXY BABE and i'd let him stalk me :}

and i also think about BA!simon a lot.

lmfaooooooo beans on toast comment has me screaming

and you're SO real for scarring him up. i need simon with jagged scars that have puckered edges and some of them pull some skin taut and--

you get my picture. that man is simply grotesque and it makes him all that more alluring. like yes king, tell me all about how you got those scars.

+ his like resting bitch face is what i'm here for.

incredible art wish i had that kind of talent but alas all im good at is getting bruised like a peach and throwing my arse in a circle for fictional men 😔

drink your water or you're gonna have one killer headache lmao.

all blues with no clues,

toni ❤️

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writing-for-me-at-this-point · 1 year

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Roman Numerals I-V | Simon “Ghost” Riley | Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II

Sum. Roman Numerals I to V about being with Simon “Ghost” Riley. He doesn’t imagine himself being in love, and yet when he his, it’s more soothing than expected. And even then, his mind can’t rest, but he now has family to help him along the way.

Warnings. mentions depersonalization/derealization, PTSD, alcohol, smoking,

Word Count. 1088 words

Reader. fem!reader

A.N. getting back into writing yall- hoorah. Dont be afraid to load up the inbox with MWII. i havent touched the COD games in like...3 years and i wanted to get into this one so bad... i am so happy these boys are getting their love yall- i will be making some roman numerals for Soap lmao. I kept mixing up NewSoap with OldSoap and i was so mad i had to rewrite it. anyways. enjoy! i will replay the campaign now and cry at the gym now lmao

i. In terms of a relationship, Simon wants a civilian, while Ghost needs someone with a military background. If you knew Simon before you met “Ghost”, you’d have met as children, aware of his situation with his family but never allowed to be involved. He gets very attached to the few good things life has given him, and he wouldn’t just throw it away because he had his job take most of his time away. If you had met Ghost first? “Ghost” would have in turn met “Fawn,” with the team's support following behind whoever needed her closely, it would take about a few months before names would be exchanged, and a good year before faces are revealed in a more intimate manner.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

ii. Simon is softer than many would expect, often touching you with the back of his hand in fear of his grip, he prefers for you to lay on top of him with your whole body weight rather than the opposite, and unless others are present, his voice is softer- more tired, vulnerable. But when others are around, like Soap, or Price, he's noticeably softer, but not enough to hurt his pride or self image. Everyone in the situation knows Soap and Price don’t care, and are happy for Simon, but they also accept he’s a rather stubborn man.

iii. His love language is definitely physical touch, on the highest end, with acts of service as a close second, and quality time as a third. He’s had a… scarcity in positive physical touch growing up, and the military didn’t do anything to help that craving, so he does get a bit choked up when he’s held for long periods of time. You learn not to mention it, let him tear up in peace, shakey sighs leaving him when your nails start to scratch his scalp and play with his hair.

Keeping him in mind when out and about leaves him weak in the knees, buying him paint for his face when you see it, patching up balaclavas that he gets attached to rather than replacing them, grabbing him tea when you get your own coffee/hot cocoa/tea. Even just being around him is enough.

He’s not a man of many words when he’s in his moments, and sometimes just having you near keeps him sane. You notice how his dry humor evaporates to nothing, he isn’t quippy,3 but follows you from room to room like a shadow. He stares, watching you cook and hum to yourself, curling up on the couch behind you as you iron with the TV on, sitting on the carpet floor with his head on your thigh, reading aloud. Those moments keep him sane, his mind running wild with his heart pounding in his ears, and seeing you… live, so close to him brings him back to Earth.

iv. He’s often gone for months on end, usually around three months on average, before coming home for a while, to start up again. He gives you a burner, and usually wants you to travel as he’s gone. A secure channel and consistent movement allows for better safety, and more frequent comms. They’re usually short, you hear the others in the back. Laughing, shouting, hollering, crying. It depends on how the mission goes, who's back, who's lost. Ghost always comes back, and Simon seems to lose a bit of himself, faded eyes and a hollow look to him, but he manages to somehow pull himself back. But there are times where he can’t seem to, where he’s lost. He’s grateful you never leave him in these moments, even though he thinks you should, that there's something better out there for you.

v. He often talks with Soap一 Johnny when he’s home, at the bar on a quiet night, in their homes on the rooftops, a bottle of Scotch between them. Maybe Bourbon. Depends on how Johnny boy feels that night. It’s their usual banter, throwing how they’ve saved each other in their faces, a quick jab at the other in the side, sometimes escalating to a grappling session.

Simon wonders if this is what it’s supposed to be when you have a brother, and though Johnny is the older one, he still can't help but baby him in a way. He’s seen how brothers act, on the TV, siblings on the school grounds, and in public. He was envious of them then, those secret chats they have in the early mornings, the silly banter that creates inside jokes no one else could ever understand, the meaningless bickering that only led to a stronger bond. He wanted that.

So here he is, on the roof of Soaps home, a chill in the autumn air that keeps the men awake. Scotch again for tonight, and Simon hums as his throat burns with another sip from his glass, and he wonders if you’re asleep in the guest bedroom you’re both to share, or maybe you’re having your own quality time with Johnny's wife. He wouldn’t be surprised if he and Johnny found you both asleep in a bed together, TV playing with snacks and your own drinks/smokes of choice by the side of the bed.

He smiles at the thought, seeing and feeling everyone in the home happy, and yet- he can’t help but feel his heartache as his mind wanders into darkness again. And he ends up begging Johnny, for him and his wife, to take care of you if anything is to happen to him.

“Don’t say that, brother. You’re not going anywhere.” John tries to smile, to bring the mood back up, and not allow Simon to fall into his own mind again.

“Just… just promise me, Johnny. That’s all I need to hear right now.” He gulps down the rest of his drink, looking ahead for a second, slowly turning as he waits for a response.

“I promise. But, you need to promise me one thing as well.”

“What.”

“Promise me… promise us you’ll do what you can to stay here. Stay with us. As long as you can.” He can only glance at the Brit, unable to meet Simon's eyes for this moment, not wanting to scare him away with too much emotion.

“We all need you here, Simon.” Soap is quick to grab the bottle, refilling the glass, tipping it over to ask if Ghost wants more. He’s met with a glass, and he fills it, the roles reversed as he awaits his response now.

“I promise.”

#call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #x reader #reader insert #queen.writing

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