#johnny mactavish/reader

[thatgoblin]

141 Men Losing Their Partner

Summary: Dead Dove Don't Eat.

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT PERTAINING TO PREGNANCY, DROWNING, CAR ACCIDENT, MURDER, NO HAPPY ENDINGS.

Price

It had been a normal day for John, texting you at lunch to see what you wanted for dinner. It was Friday, which meant that it would be a lazy weekend after a grueling month of missions followed by an equally grueling week of training with cadets. Nothing seemed out of place as he pulled up to the house he shared with you, a small townhouse that was perfect for the time being, but with talk of a baby, you would need more room soon. 

“Love, I’m home,” John called, holding plastic bags full of Chinese cartons holding low mein and sweet and sour pork. “Love?” There was no answer. The inside was eerily quiet and John knew that quiet meant bad things. In the field, it meant that people were on the move and hiding it, but at home it meant you were either gone or hurt. After being told you would be home and waiting, he was on high alert. 

Guns weren’t a common item, but with his position he had one stashed. Stalking through the house, handgun held out as he cleared rooms, he was moving on instinct. Years of training from doing this through blown up buildings and searching for the bad guys was the only thing keeping him from running through the place and screaming your name. 

When he got to the kitchen, he spun around the corner with the gun raised, slipping on something slick and wet. Catching himself on the counter, his breath left him. 

There was so much blood. More than he had ever seen before, not even when he interrogated or was locked up in a Russian prison or even the fucking battlefield. Nothing compared the scene before him. 

John shook as he set his gun down, starting to hyperventilate as he locked eyes with your lifeless body. You were on the floor, your throat slit and body stabbed to the point that it looked like someone put ground beef on you. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t. You were the safe place he had from the world. Everything about you had been his soft landing place. He had worked so hard to keep you separated from his job and it was all for nothing. 

Going to his knees, he crawled to you. John’s hands trembled as they touched your face in disbelief. He was unable to take a proper breath, the smell of your blood stinging his senses as he pulled you to him, pressing his face to yours. There was no conscious movement as he began to rock and weep softly. Holding you tight, he stayed there till Laswell showed up. She had been invited over with her wife for a double date. Kate tried to pull him away as her wife called the police, but it triggered him to start screaming. Even when the police showed up, it took an ambo arriving to sedate him for him to let go of you. 

“Be careful with her,” he sobbed as the medics put you on a gurney. “She’s allergic to penicillin. She gets hives. Please, she needs-she needs-”

Kate held him as he broke, going silent. “We were going to have a baby,” he whispered, tears soaking his beard. “We wanted to get a new house and have a baby. We wanted. . . What am I going to do?”

Gaz

You had been on a date with Kyle, a fun outing that was desperately needed after being separated for months. You went to dinner at this greasy burger place then went to an arcade that had a giant purple dragon he swore he would get you. After five tries and lots of swearing, he finally did it. “My hero,” you cooed, holding your prize as you leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Ready to head home? I don’t think this guy is meant to be carried around for long.”

“I am if you are,” Kyle said with a grin, giving you a wink. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulled you along to get to the street. He held his hand up to hail a cab, holding you close as you pressed against his body. It had been too long since you had last held him and with having him home for a few weeks, you were refusing to let him go any time soon. 

“Can’t get a bloody cab for shit,” he huffed. You were about to tell him you could call for one when you heard tire screeching. There was no time to react to the car hitting the curb then the pair of you. It was milliseconds and even if either of you had been looking at it, there was no escaping it. 

The car had been speeding when it barrelled over you two. Kyle flew over the hood and slammed into the windshield as you were dragged under the tires. Screams from everyone filled the air as the car stopped for just a moment before swerving off to leave you.

“Ky-Kyle,” you wheezed, laying on the ground. Your middle had been crushed and you couldn’t feel anything below your chest. It hurt to breathe, making you choke and gasp as Kyle forced himself to drag himself to you.

“Doll,” he groaned, his leg at a bad angle and his head bleeding profusely. “Don’t move. Stay with me.”

“Kyle,” you choked out. “Cold.”

“No, please,” he whimpered, collapsing next to you as people gathered to try and help keep you still as others called the ambulance. “Darling, don’t. Please.”

“Love,” you whispered as he took your limp hand. “You.”

“Help is coming, please, just hold on,” he begged as you stayed still and quiet. “Darlin’? Baby? No, no, no, no.” The ambulance didn’t arrive for nearly an hour. Price showed up well before them. He made Kyle stay still as he kept calling for you, holding your hand. Someone had draped their jacket over your top and another person laid their’s over your middle, hoping to give you some decency as Kyle demanded that Price help you. Even when he was in danger of snapping his spine, paralyzing himself for life, he still made you the priority. 

“Gaz,” Price said softly. “She’s gone. I’m sorry, lad.” 

“No, please. She’s just-just quiet,” Kyle sobbed, his physical pain not even compared to what he was feeling when he was made to let go of you for good.

Soap

It had started out as a weekend trip to blow off some steam. You and Johnny had gone to a resort in a warm climate with crystal clear water and amazing food. There was plenty of mixed, frozen drink and tanning lotion for the pair of you to get some nice warm color back into their almost sickly complexions. 

Johnny made sure to get plenty of pictures of you in your bathing suit, specifically your ass. You  gave him shit, but he just laughed and took more. Included in your stay was a boat tour of a cave. It wasn’t the rainy season so it was safe. No sudden surges or unexpected storms. Johnny said he’d been in more dangerous pools in the UK, making you relax and trust that things would be fine. 

You weren’t the strongest swimmer, but you were good enough to get by. Add in a life jacket and Johnny next to you, you felt safe. Untouchable really. What took you by surprise was the rumble of thunder as you got halfway into the tour. 

“Don’t worry, it will miss us,” the guide said, easing any worries that would pop up. Holding Johnny’s hand, you were about to make a comment about the glowing algae when you heard a clicking pop. Turning to him, you were left speechless. 

“You know I’m not good with words, but I think this speaks for itself,” he said, holding up a rose gold ring with a set of yellow diamond leaves. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you said softly. “Yes! I would hug you aggressively, but I don’t want to lose the ring and tip the boat!” You cried with a shrieking laugh. Sliding the ring onto your finger, he pulled you close for a kiss as flashes from the phone the tour guide held reminded you that you weren’t alone. 

“I got everything recorded, Mr. Johnny,” he said with a grin, handing Johnny’s phone back to him. 

“Thanks, Mate,” Johnny said with a grin, keeping you close. As the guide turned the boat around, thunder rumbled again, much louder that time. “We’re still good, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, we’re heading back now, no worries,” the guide said as he navigated the slowly raising waters. You held onto Johnny as the thunder got louder and you could see the lightening was able to be seen from the front of the cave. 

Another rumble lasted longer, making you look around at the water. The rumbled quickly turned into a rushing sound, getting louder in seconds as a monstrous wave slammed into the cave, sending all the water rushing back. The rush slammed into the boat, making the bow lift high. With the guid on the back of the boat and you and Johnny in the middle, the weight distribution didn’t save you from being tossed into the water as the boat capsized. 

You screamed, grabbing for Johnny as you were pulled under. There was no preparation to stay under too long, your lungs burning as you blindly clawed at the bottom of the cave to find the side or top. Bursting through the surface with a choking gasp, you didn’t have time to get another breath before you were pulled back under by the rip that had been made by the current. Not even with the life jacket were you able to break through the water. 

Johnny was able to grab the guide and get him to higher ground in the cave. Dragging him onto rocks, he began to scream your name. Where had you gone!? You were right there! “Where are you!” He screamed, ready to jump back in.

“No, you will drown! It’s not safe until after the storm!” The guide cried as he grabbed Johnny’s arm. 

“My partner is in there!” Johnny snarled, but the guide fought with him, keeping him where it was safe while you were left on your own. As the flash storm rolled on, just a few minutes after it showed up, your life jacket floated out from the back of the cave. It didn’t mean anything, you could still be alive. Despite the water calming, the guide made them stay on the rocks till a rescue boat came in, shining a light on them. “There’s someone still in here!” He yelled as the men climbed into the boat. 

“We know, we have her outside,” the rescue worker said, helping them sit before turning the boat around.

“She’s okay?” Johnny asked, surprised as he never saw you since you fell from the boat. The man was quiet, not looking at him. “Is she okay?” He pushed. “Can you fuckin’ tell me if she’s alive or not!?” He snarled. All he received was silence. When the boat came out and he saw a white sheet laid over a body on the beach, he jumped from the rescue boat before it could stop. Running over, he was screaming your name as the police were taping off the beach. One of the officers tried to stop him, but he easily shoved them aside as he kept screaming. 

You were still and silent as he picked you up, refusing to let anyone near you as he wailed in grief. Holding you, he rocked the two of you as the police tried to control the growing crowd. There was nothing they could do to help him, as news crews began to swarm the beach to get pictures of the grief stricken man holding his fiancee’s body as her hand with the engagement ring dangled free for them to take pictures of and plaster on the front pages.

Ghost

 You were just a month and a half shy of being full term. When Simon had been called to do a mission, you were pissed and ready to fight Price, but Simon calmed you down before you could come at the bearded man with a cricket bat. It wouldn’t be that long and he’d be back with plenty of time for the baby to be born. 

It had only been two days when you felt contractions start. At first you thought it was Braxton Hicks contractions, but then you felt your water break. When you went to the bathroom to check, you found that it wasn’t your water. It was blood and it was soaking your underwear and pants. Calling an ambulance, you unlocked the front door so they could get in. Once you were sure they were on their way, you called Simon’s emergency line. It wouldn’t go to him directly, but he would know what was happening right away at least. Leaving your message, the ambulance arrived soon after.

Crying, you held your stomach as you were strapped to a gurney and rushed to the hospital. You weren’t being told anything, just to keep breathing as the pain grew. With your phone in your hand, you kept checking it to see if Simon was able to call, but there was nothing. At the hospital, you were rushed into surgery as you begged one of the nurses to call the emergency line again to see when Simon could call. She promised she would keep trying as you handed off your phone. Once in surgery, you were put under and the last thing you thought was a plea to any deity listening to save your baby. 

Simon got the message and was gone. He didn’t ask permission or explain. His whole team was with him, though, getting him back home as quickly as possible. It was nearly five hours later in a plane to a helicopter that took him to the hospital with some of his gear and mask still on. Jumping out of the helo before it could land fully, he ripped his mask and vest off to throw to the side as he sprinted to where you were. 

His head was empty aside from the drive to get to you. You had to be okay. You had to be. There was a nurse waiting for him at the stairs, stopping him from running blindly through the hospital. 

“Mr. Riley,” she said, not flinching under his gaze that was fire and rage. 

“Where is my wife?” He growled, towering over her. 

“You’re wife. . . I am so sorry, but she didn’t make it,” the nurse said. Simon could only hear the ringing in his ears that he would hear when he was near a concussion grenade going off. “Her uterine lining ripped and she had lost too much blood by the time she arrived at the hospital.” None of her words seemed to register to her as his team came up behind him. 

Every word was lost on him as he stood there, not responding to anything she said. Not even Price shaking him could bring him to. 

“What about the baby?” He finally asked, coming out of it enough to think of that. “Is she okay?”

“She’s stable and in the NICU. Despite being born rather early, she is healthy and will stay there till she’s considered to term to make sure she has the best chance of surviving,” the nurse said. Simon nodded, going quiet again. 

“I want to see her. I want to see my wife,” he said. The nurse nodded, knowing he would do it anyway he could. His face said it all. Taking him to the OR, she waved others on when they stopped to question why four men were being let into the room. The team held back while Simon moved forward to the white sheet covered table. With steady hands, he pulled the cover back to see your face. You looked like you were sleeping. He would watch you before you awoke for the day and this was the same face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stroking your hair. His gloves were long gone, leaving him bare to the world he struggled to hide from. “I’m so sorry. I should have never left.” Leaning forward, he pressed your faces together as he quietly cried. He had lost his family, then found you and it was a breath of life to him. Now you were gone and left him with a small piece of you. He didn’t know if he could do it without you, if he could be someone his daughter needed or wanted. Simon didn’t know how to be a good partner till you came along, so how could he know how to be a good dad without you?

Masterlist

Taglist: @birdstoprey @sebbytheraccoon @pricescigar @alwaysshallow @sae1kie @sleepydang @lexi-zsy09 @ghostlywhiskey @ghosts-cyphera @poohkie90 @neothewitch @shadofireshinobi @sadslasher13 @0alk0msan @xaestheticalien

#captain john price #captain price #cod mwii #cod mw2 #captain price/reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz/reader #kyle gaz x reader #soap/reader #ghost/reader #johnny MacTavish/reader #simon riley x reader

[bagofshinyrocks]

Government name vs Military callsign

Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

John Price

Government name.

Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.

“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”

Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.

“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”

“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”

He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.

“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”

When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.

Simon Riley

Military callsign.

When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.

“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”

“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 

Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.

“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.

“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”

Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 

A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.

Kyle Garrick

Government name.

He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.

“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”

Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.

If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?

“Kyle Ga-”

“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”

You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”

“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”

He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 

“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.

John MacTavish

Military callsign.

He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.

Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.

“SOAP!”

Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.

“JOHNNY!”

“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.

“C’mere, c’mere.”

He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”

You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”

He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”

“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”

“You called me Soap.”

“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”

Posted: 2023 Dec 10

#cod x reader #cod fluff #john price x reader #john price fluff #captain john price fluff #captain price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #ghost fluff #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick fluff #gaz x reader #gaz x fluff #soap x reader #soap fluff #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish fluff #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish fluff #cod mw2 x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 fluff #cod mw2 fluff

[loveindefinitely]

task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.

-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)

thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.

one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.

cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.

he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.

"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.

you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."

his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."

you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.

johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.

three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.

manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.

"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.

you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."

a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"

you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."

the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.

"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.

"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.

"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.

"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"

it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.

johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.

"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.

johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.

"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.

"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"

you shudder.

"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.

he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.

"forty-three."

your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.

all you can manage is one question.

"take me home?"

#⌨️ : love's writing #will defs continue this later #just #ughhhhhh #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost cod #mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #soap cod #polyamory #poly cod #poly tf141 #tf141 x reader #tf 141 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #john price #captain john price #cod x you #call of duty x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use

Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)

summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex

note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"

Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring. 

You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.

Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances. 

Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees. 

And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm. 

Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.

It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.

———————————————————————

You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove. 

Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.

There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.

“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.

“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.

One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”

You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”

“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.

Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.

“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”

You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”

He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”

He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.

He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.

“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”

“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”

“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”

“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”

You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”

“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”

He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”

You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.

Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”

You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs. 

He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.

“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”

The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.

It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”

You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”

He smirks, “Nope.”

John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”

“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench. 

“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.

“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”

Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”

Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”

You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”

He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.

———————————————————————

You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.

Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.

You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”

“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!” 

That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”

Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.

You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips. 

Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.

“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”

“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.

“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.

“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”

He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”

You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”

You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.

“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”

You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”

It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.

“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”

“She tight, Johnny?”

You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.

There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.

Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.

“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”

You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses. 

“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”

“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”

Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”

You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier. 

The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you. 

You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat. 

The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.

“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.

“Me too, bonnie.”

He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.

“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.

It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”

You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours. 

“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”

Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.

Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”

You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”

Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.

He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.

You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.

You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.

———————————————————————

You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”

He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in. 

“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”

You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”

“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”

It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.

Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.

It doesn’t make the wait any easier.

You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.

“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”

The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.

“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.

On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.

Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely. 

The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.

He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”

And, well, who are you to disobey?

You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.

“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”

“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”

“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”

“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”

“Yes, yes…”

“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”

“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”

“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”

He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.

When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.

“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.

“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”

“Alright. Need any help tonight?”

“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”

You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”

A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner. 

———————————————————————

You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.

“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”

You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.

You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.

You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.

Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth. 

You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.

“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”

You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.

He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.

Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”

You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state. 

So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.

#fun fact: this is completely unedited! anyway - yall ready for these tags? #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 31 #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #john price x reader #john price #price x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #poly 141 x reader #141 x reader #is that all? did i do it right? IDK! #oh wait #bo writes #kyle garrick x reader #now that we're at the ends of the tags can i confess that i kinda hate this?

[chaosandmarigolds]

“No, no no, baby-baby let mama talk-“ much to your dismay your toddler already took off with the tablet down the hall with your husband on face time. With a disgruntled huff you walk down the hall and move to open the door only to falter for a moment as you hear your husbands voice.

“Takin’ care of your mum, bubs?”

“Des sir.”

“Why you runnin’ from her then?”

“Caasaaus I wanna talk to you and when mummy starts to talk to you she doesn’t share.”

A gruff laugh, “Alright alright, well what do you wanna talk about then, lad?”

You stand outside the door for a solid ten minutes before you knocked on the door and moved your son to your lap to smile down at your husband.

“Hey, honey.”

“Hey, hot stuff.”

You see him roll his eyes and you bite back a smile.

“Lad told me you’re not sharin enough.”

You playfully gasp, which triggered your sons giddy laughter, “No! Really??”

“Really!”

#lil blerb #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost x reader #johnny mctavish x reader #john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #johnny mactavish #cod x y/n #cod x you #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #cod imagine #cod fluff #simon fluff #soap x reader #soap fluff #simon riley x female reader #x female!reader

[criminalamnesia]

Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

#angst #simon riley x gn reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley angst #cod mw2 fic #cod x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #141!reader #ghost x gn reader #gn!reader #ghost x you #ghost angst #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost cod #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john price #kyle garrick #john mactavish #mw2 141 #captain price

[penguinbuttcheeks]

- johnny ‘soap’ mactavish is absolutely livid when he sees a picture of you being shared around base - tears in your eyes and clothes drenched in water, making the fabric stick to your body uncomfortably, your arms tightly wrapped around your torso in humiliation.

- the cherry on top? the dog collar around your neck with your dog tags hanging on display, dangling between your collarbones.

- you’ve only just finished your first week on base as the newest recruit, but that excited spark in your eyes was quickly diminished

- he doesn’t even know your name, but what he does know is he won’t stand for the blatant disrespect towards the new recruits he’s going to be training and fighting alongside

- hazing is a strictly prohibited practice, but with no way to trace down who the original photographer was, none of the higher ups are able to enforce any form of punishment

- it makes him see red

- soap will go out of his way to beat the ever loving shit out of any soldier that has the picture saved to their phones, forcing them to delete it right before his eyes before spitting on them and walking away

- word on base is quickly spread and soldiers scramble to make sure there is no trace of the photo on their phones. you have a death wish if you’re willing to anger the 141 sergeant

- you’re quick to notice the sudden change in attitude towards you, no longer being called demeaning nicknames or tormented by the soldiers around you

- what you fail to notice however, is the sharp glare johnny sends their way as he trails behind you several metres back as you navigate through the halls, soldiers quickly averting their gaze or ducking their heads

- you shrug it off, ruling it down to your initiation finally being complete once the photo was snapped

- such a clueless little hen, completely unaware of the constant presence that lingers just out of your line of sight

- it’s a blessing that soap took an interest in you. he might just have to finally introduce himself once all the commotion has died down

- he can’t wait

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #soap call of duty #call of duty soap #cod #cod mwf2 #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty headcanons #cod headcanons #johnny soap mactavish #soap headcanons #soap x reader #soap mw2 #cod soap #soap cod #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #task force 141 #141 #141 headcanons #cod 141 #mw2 141 #call of duty mw3

[thatgoblin]

If I'm There

Summary: You hadn't seen or spoken to him in over a year, but now you have to track down your ex-husband over unpaid parking tickets. It was supposed to be easy, but seeing him with his new partner made it anything but.

Soulmates AU, Simon/Johnny/Reader

Warnings: so much angst, past child death, alcoholism, divorce, heavy stuff, but happy ending.

A/N: I'm not completely pleased with it, I don't feel very strong with Simon and Johnny’s characters in this, but posting anyways. It's part of a series I had written a while ago, but it works as a one shot too. Song is 'If I'm There' by Bad Omens.

“Riley! I got a job for you!” 

I looked up from the paperwork I had been doing, bored out of my mind before stuffing it into the file it had come in. 

“Yes! Farah, love of my life, light of my heart, tell me it’s a good one,” I said, walking over to get a look from her. 

“Seems you’re on the hunt for a blast from your past,” the dark haired woman said, handing me a file. “12 unpaid parking tickets and has not shown up to court.” I opened the file, wanting to throw it away immediately, but seeing the large bounty on it, I kept it. It wasn’t often that amount was put out on people for nonviolent crimes and I wasn’t about to pass up something so easy. “Also a second one. 4 unpaid speeding tickets, 3 failure to signal tickets, and 1 ticket for having a pet off leash. . . An emu.” Farah handed me another file and the bounty was just as much. 

“And a partridge in a pear tree,” I said with a snort. “Merry Christmas to me.”

“It’s April,” Farah said evenly before turning back to the computer. 

“Well, it’ll feel like Christmas when I turn these two idiots in,” I said, taking their addresses to shove into my back pocket in case my first plan didn’t work. “With a nice bonus for you too.”

“Oh happy days,” Farah said dryly. 

“You know, you could be a bit more cheery about life,” I said, folding the legal paperwork I needed before putting it into my jacket pocket. 

“I could, but then we’d be friends and we can’t have that,” Farah said, not looking back.

“Of course, we wouldn’t want that,” I said, grabbing my phone from my desk. “Alright, I’m off. Hold down the fort and don’t set it on fire. Again.”

“I make no promises,” Farah said as I walked out the door. Walking over to my car, I pulled out my phone to dial a number I had deleted from my phone over a year ago. As I sat in the car, a little voice in the back of my head told me to ignore this job. That it was inviting chaos and discourse back into my life after I had struggled to get some sort of peace. I had to see him at some point and it was probably easier to do it this way rather than during an awkward grocery store run in. Tapping the numbers was second nature and I didn’t even hesitate on a single digit. I held the phone to my ear as I coached myself to stay cool.

“Hello?” A man’s voice came over the line. I hadn’t heard it in nearly a year, but it still sounded the same. “Hello?”

“Hey. . . It’s me,” I said, swallowing back every urge that wanted to throw the phone into the street and speed away. “I really need to talk to someone. Are you free right now?” There was a sigh then silence. I thought he’d hung up on me, but a jostling noise told me he was still there.

“Sure, where do you want to meet?” He asked, his tone flat.

“Joe’s Coffee Shop? Half an hour?” I asked. I felt a little bad about tricking him, but then again I had bills to pay and he clearly was already done with me. So I didn’t feel too bad. 

“Okay, see you there,” he said before hanging up. 

There are scars that'll never ever show themselves

You get when you're left alone too long in Hell

The drive to the coffee shop was short thankfully and I was able to get a good parking spot to wrangle my targets into it. Hereford had its ups and downs, but the ups were that it really wasn’t as big as everyone thought. My ex and I had lived there for most of our adult lives before we split. Going our separate ways had meant chaos and disarray at first, but then I got my current job after a few months and it was something I could throw myself into. 

We stayed in this area because while it was on the west coast, it was also a close knit community of sorts. People knew each other, local places were more abundant than chains, it just felt like back home. At Joe’s, I pulled up to park on the street before getting out of my black sedan. 

Joe’s Coffee Shop was a local favorite with an outdoor patio. It was April and a sunny day so there were lots of people there sunbathing while sipping on iced coffees. Going in, I ordered one myself before picking a spot outside. Lazily sipping my drink, I pulled out my phone to check the time. I was never patient and even when I was early and he was on time, it had always got on my nerves. 

“Hey.” 

I looked up to see him standing there with that blank look he always had. Mostly hidden by his black face mask. It was the same one I made him that had the lower half of a skull printed onto it. He always wore a balaclava with a similar print, but walking around with that got him into trouble a lot. So, I made a face mask for him. I had taken the time to learn to sew and make patterns when I was not a crafty person. Seeing him still wearing it, I was thrown off my game.

“Hey Simon,” I said, standing up. Did I hug him? Shake hands? High five? Regret was filling my stomach as he stood there. We’d divorced over a year ago and hadn’t talked to each other since, but now his stupid unpaid parking tickets brought him back into my life.

We were supposed to be soulmates. We had the marks that everyone was born with. Everyone had a soulmate, people even had more than one at a time. It was supposed to mean we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, like some magical fairy tale that adults tell children. 

If you found your soulmate you would feel more deeply, be more in tune with the other, have this special bond that no one else could have with you. Simon and I had had that bond. 

But then we didn’t. 

Things changed and we lost the bond or it broke or something and we couldn’t hack it. So, we divorced. I covered my mark on my hand with a small black bar tattoo, but Simon didn’t. I hated that he still had it. Just three simple arrows in a row on his forearm. We were meant to be together, so say the powers that be, but we proved them wrong. Life wasn’t a fairy tale. 

“Everythin’ okay?” He asked, sitting across from me, shaking me from my thoughts.

“Yeah, just. . . Got lost for a second,” I said, sitting down as well. 

“Are you seein’ that counselor still?” He asked. I nodded, taking a deep breath. I wasn’t there to catch up, I was there to collect a bounty. “Good,” he said.

“The reason I called you to talk in person is that I have a question,” I said, pulling out the legal paperwork. 

“About what?” Simon asked with a frown.

“12 unpaid parking tickets? You have 12 unpaid parking tickets?” I asked as I shook my head at him, holding up the warrant.

“What about them?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the papers. “How do you know about that?” 

“Because you’ve got a warrant out for your arrest,” I said. “And I’m here to take you in.”

“Jesus,” Simon groaned, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “You’re a bounty hunter now?”

“Yup. I was going to turn yours down, but the money was too good to give to someone else,” I said with a snort. Simon pinched his nose as he stayed sitting.

“This is a joke, isn’t it? It’s a really bad joke,” he said, looking at me. “Just tell me it’s a joke.”

“Not a joke,” I said, showing my badge and permit. “You never paid the tickets or showed up to court.” 

“Fuck me,” Simon hissed. 

“Everythin’ okay, Simon?” A Scottish brogue said.

I turned to see another man with a mohawk and the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen walk over with a pair of coffees in hand. Wait a second. 

“Don’t tell me, you’re Johnny MacTavish?” I asked, looking up at him. 

“Uh, I am,” the man said, frowning as he looked at me.

“Oh wow, this has got to be the luckiest break ever!” I said, laughing as I stood up. 

“Simon?” Johnny said, frowning.

“Easiest job I’ve ever had,” I said, pulling out the handcuffs from my belt.

“You’re not actually goin’ to take me in,” Simon said, tilting his head to look up at me. “This is just a heads up, right?”

“Oh no. I’m for real arresting you both right now,” I said. “Unpaid parking tickets, jay walking and traffic tickets, no shows in court, and a fucking emu? This is truly an April Christmas miracle.” 

“I’m still confused, Simon?” Johnny said, looking at the other man. 

“Wait, how do you two know each other?” I asked, realizing they had shown up together.

“Johnny, this my ex-wife,” Simon said as he stood up. “And this is my boyfriend, Johnny.”

I did not expect to feel that pang in my chest hit so hard. Of course he moved on. Why wouldn’t he? He had been the more grounded of us after the dust settled. I had no right to feel jealous or hurt by it. If he hadn’t been in trouble then I would have had no idea anyways. 

“Wait, so she’s the one-” Johnny started.

“Yes, she is the one,” Simon nodded. “Now, when you’re done havin’ a laugh, I have to go. We have plans. Can’t believe after almost a year of not talkin’ and avoidin’ each other this is how you choose to show up again.”

“Oh, uh, it was nice to meet you,” Johnny said, tentatively holding out his hand for me to take after setting his drinks down. Fuck this. I slapped a cuff onto Johnny who cried out in confusion as I easily turned him to get his other hand. 

“I wasn’t kidding,” I grunted as I handled Johnny, directing him to my car.

“Are you fucking’ kiddin’ me right now!?” Simon snapped. 

“Like I said, I have arrest warrants for both of you. You’re lucky I even told you that,” I snapped back at him. Opening the car door, I put Johnny in the back before shutting the door. Simon didn’t seem to think it was going to go far, instead choosing to get on the phone with someone. 

“Yes, hello?” He said before I ripped his phone from him to hang up. “What the hell!?”

“Simon, just let me cuff you so we can get this over with and we can move on with our lives,” I said. 

“What is wrong with you? Normal ex’s don’t arrest each other,” he said, as I was able to get the cuffs on him just as easily.

“Yeah, well, we’re not normal ex’s,” I said with a sigh, putting the cuffs extra tight on his wrists. “Now shut up and get in the car.” Dragging him to the other side, I pushed him in next to Johnny before getting in myself. 

“Are we being kidnapped?” Johnny asked as I pulled out onto the road.

“You’ve both have warrants out for your arrest because you two dumbasses didn’t pay tickets on time or show up to court,” I said. “5 years we were together and you never learned to pay the damn tickets.”

“I was goin’ to pay them,” Simon said with a huff. “I’ve been busy.”

“Uh huh,” I said, rolling my eyes at him. Johnny seemed to just be in a constant state of confusion, but kept quiet at least. The drive to the police station was shorand usually if there was more than one to book I would have other people with me, but given that those two weren’t going to really give me trouble, I didn’t worry too much. With both of them in cuffs and compliant, I was able to get them booked easily enough. 

“Hey, Riley,” the officer at the desk, Roach, called as Simon and Johnny were being taken to be processed. I paused in my get away, ready to run as far and fast as I could.

They tried to keep in the secrets that you wouldn't tell

But they just stripped you for parts you had to sell

“Yeah?” I said, walking back over. I could see Simon staring at me hard from the cubicle he was in with Johnny that was just a couple of meters away. No doubt he heard the officer call me back over, still using his last name.

“Just need you to sign a few things for us,” Roach said. 

“Alright fine, but it better be quick, I got a lunch date with a Blood Mary,” I said with a huff. 

“You never changed your name,” Simon said, looking at me with a frown. 

“Uh… No, no I did not,” I said, keeping my eyes on the papers in front of me. 

“Why didn’t you change your name?” He asked.

“Because it’s a bitch to file paperwork and I’ve already been writing it for nearly 5 years. I made it a habit,” I said, glancing at him.

“No, no, you were filin’ for divorce before you even brought it up to me. You filed everythin’ before sayin’ a word,” Simon pushed. “Why didn’t you change your name?”

“I swear to god, Simon,” I hissed, slamming the pen on the counter. The small police station should have been buzzing about with noise, but as Simon kept demanding, everything and everyone went quiet. 

“Just tell me why you didn’t change your last name,” he pushed. 

“Because I still love you, okay?!” I snapped, whirling to glare at him. “I still love you, but we are not good together and it’s one piece of us that I can have without trouble. So there, there’s your answer, in front of your new boyfriend, too.”

“Love,” Simon said with a sigh. 

“Don’t,” I said, cutting him off. “Anything else for me to sign?” I asked, turning back to glare at Roach. 

“Uh, no that’s it,” Roach said. I hadn’t meant to crumble so easily. I thought I was stronger than that, but seeing him again, with someone else. . . What was I supposed to do? We used to be so good together, but then everything happened and shit hit the fan. I couldn’t be as soft as I once was and I couldn’t let him back in. It wasn’t fair to him. Not after the shit I put him through. 

“Thanks,” I said, turning on my heel. Thankfully no one called after me again, letting me get to my car and drive home in peace. Getting home, I walked in to shut the door behind me. It was barely 2pm but there I was going right for the vodka in my freezer. I’d been sober almost four months, but seeing Simon. . . I couldn’t. It was supposed to be an easy grab and go, he’d get pissed and grouchy while I hauled his ass to jail. 

Then it turned into a sudden confession at the police station in front of everyone and their dog to see and hear. I hoped that was the last I’d seen of him for a while. If ever. 

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

Pulling a glass from my cupboard, I put a handful of ice in it before filling it with the liquor. I brought the glass to my lips, but paused. On the fridge was a magnet with a purple heart on it and the name ‘Dierdre’ in cursive letters. Staring at it, I held onto the drink as that ache brought back by Simon deepened. Like a scab reopening to become infected. The burning smell of the vodka was enough to pull me from scratching that open wound. Slowly, I set the glass down. That job was a mistake and I knew it the whole time. I thought maybe the money would soften any damage done or any hurt feelings, but it hadn’t done a damn thing.

Taking a deep breath as my mind threatened to unravel any second, I reached out to grab the bottle of vodka. Unscrewing the cap, I let it drop to the counter. The feel of the icy bottle in my hand helped pull me up from the warmth of depression that was pulling me into its arms. I tipped the bottle to watch the clear liquid pour into the sink, splashing and running down the drain. When the bottle was empty, I did the same to the drink I had made. 

Standing in silence, I let out a sigh before moving to my living room, leaving the empty bottle on the counter.

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

I pulled off my boots and jacket, texting Farah that I had everything signed and turned in and that I was done for the day. Shutting my phone off, I moved to flop onto the couch after peeling off my tight jeans. My bra went flying behind me, letting me settle in the warm weather with my windows open. The apartment was modest as Simon had kept almost everything in the divorce. I didn’t want it, so I left the house and anything I didn’t readily need with him. It was for the best. I didn’t need much and it made for less stuff when I moved. 

Flipping on the TV, I turned it to good ol’ golf. I could put golf on at any time and it would put me in a dreamless sleep. That was what I needed. No dreams, no thoughts, no worries or wonders. Just the comfortable void that I could exist in without overwhelming feelings of any kind. In minutes I was passed out on the couch. 

Until someone pounded on my front door. 

Groggily, I looked around, confused as the sun had set and I was chilly in my underwear and tank top. Another loud knock came that had me glaring at the offending door. 

“I’m coming!” I yelled, going to the door. Beside it in a small side table, I hid a Glock for when unsolicited callers came to the door. It was registered and everything, but wasn’t kept completely legal considering it wasn’t locked up with the ammo separated. My previous job and being a bounty hunter didn’t exactly make for the safest of conditions and the bad guys wouldn’t wait for me to put in my combination to my safe. “Who is it?” I asked, hand on the gun hidden under the table top. 

“It’s Simon.” Quiet a moment, I scrunched my face in frustration while holding back the urge to tell him to fuck off.

“What do you want?” I asked, not letting him in or taking my hand off the gun. 

“I want to talk to you,” he said. I heard him shifting around, waiting for me to answer. The thought of climbing out my window crossed my mind, but he’d just follow right behind me. Sighing heavily, I took my hand from the gun before I unlocked the door to open it. “Thank. . . You,” he said, his eyes trailing down my body. “Well then.”

“I was napping,” I grumbled, stepping aside. “Besides you’ve seen more of that.” I pushed the door to shut it, but it stopped when Johnny popped in. “Excuse me?” I said, looking between the two. 

“We need to talk about earlier,” Simon said as Johnny walked in. “All three of us.”

“I don’t understand,” I groaned, scrubbing my face. “Why are both of you here?”

“Do you wanna put some pants on? We can turn around,” Johnny offered. I stared at him before looking to Simon. 

“Just go have a seat on the couch, Darlin’,” Simon said with a soft sigh, rubbing Johnny’s arm. My eye twitched at the gesture and nickname, but I stayed quiet. 

“I’ll be right back,” I said, going to the bedroom which was technically part of the living room. It had a partition set up to kind of offer a sense of it being a different room, but I didn’t try that hard. I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and hoodie to pull on before I rejoined the two men. Johnny sat on the couch, watching some show on TV that had come on during my nap while Simon was in the kitchen, holding the empty liquor bottle. 

I didn't want to believe how much you needed help

And I just left you to be all by yourself

“I thought you said you were goin’ to counselin’,” he said softly. 

“I am,” I said, taking the bottle from him to put in the recycling. “It was in the freezer from almost 6 months ago. I poured it out.”

“Are you bein’ honest with me?” Simon asked, looking at me. His dark eyes looked scared, worried, unsure. It was more than he gave me earlier that day at the coffee shop.

“I am,” I said. “Promise.”

“Good,” Simon said with a nod before motioning to the couch.

“So, what was it you two wanted to talk about?” I asked, pulling over a chair from my table as Simon sat next to Johnny. 

“Aren’t you curious how we found ye?” Johnny asked as I turned off the TV. 

“Not really. I know how you found me,” I said. “One of two options. Either you tracked me back through my phone records or you talked to my office manager, Farah. Who honestly should know better than to give my address out, but I assumed you pestered her enough that she caved.”

“Wow, she is good Simon,” Johnny said with a smile. 

“I told you,” Simon said with a chuckle. I felt a hint of heat in my cheeks. Simon told Johnny about me? About how I was good at seeing things others didn’t? “Sorry, I told him you used to be a private investigator and he thinks it’s the greatest thing.”

“I love all those detective movies where the police don’t believe the evidence, but that rogue investigator finds it all out and cracks the case!” Johnny said excitedly. It was almost annoying, but it was also sweet. I hadn’t felt excited, truly excited, like that in a long time and didn’t know if I ever could again.

“It was mostly catching people cheating on each other,” I said, rubbing my face. “Hate to break the dream for ya.”

“That’s not what Simon said,” Johnny said. It was Simon’s turn to get a bit red in the cheeks. 

“Oh really? What did he say?” I asked, crossing my legs as I leaned forward.

“Not why we’re here,” Simon said, covering Johnny’s mouth with his hand. 

“Then why are you here?” I asked, turning my attention to him. 

“We’re here to talk about us,” Simon said, motioning between me and him. 

“What’s there to talk about?” I asked, sitting back up to cross my arms over my chest. “We’re divorced. We gave it a shot and it didn’t work out.”

“No, we gave it a shot and you called it quits. I was willin’ to work it out,” Simon said with a sigh.

“Obviously you don’t want to anymore, you brought your boyfriend over,” I said, motioning to Johnny.

“Johnny, go ahead and show her,” Simon said, looking to the other. 

“Show me what?” I asked. Johnny glanced from me to Simon before he pulled up his shirt and pulled his pants down a bit. On his right hip was his soulmate mark. I swallowed hard, looking at it as tears pricked my eyes. It was the same as me and Simon’s. Three small arrows. “Well, good for you, you found a soulmate after I covered my mark,” I said. “You wanted to let me know you’d moved on completely and that I shouldn’t contact you again.”

“No, that’s not it,” Simon said as Johnny sat back down.

“Then what is it, Simon?” I snapped. “What do you want? I filed for divorce, I left you, I moved away from you, and the first time I called you in nearly a year is to arrest you, so you think that means anything?”

And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well

But I just came back to see how hard you fell

“You said at the station that you were still in love with me,” Simon said.

“No, I said I still loved you. There’s a difference. I’m not in love with you,” I said. It was mean and cruel, but I couldn’t let him think there was a chance we’d have a happily ever after. I was too much of a mess and barely managed to keep myself going most days as a functioning adult. 

“But you could be,” Johnny said. I narrowed my eyes at him, snarling almost, but he didn’t flinch. “You could fall back in love with him.”

“I. . . I am not the person I used to be, Simon,” I said, trying to swallow back tears. “I’m not the girl you fell in love with and I probably won’t ever be her again. I’m not who you want or need.” 

“Maybe Johnny’s right,” Simon said, scooting closer to me. “We’re both different people, but we could fall in love again.”

“It has been over a year, Simon,” I said. “You moved on with Johnny and I moved on. What is the point of us getting back together? We’re not good together.”

“No, we were,” Simon said. “We just lost each other when we lost Dierdre.”

“Don’t,” I snapped, close to losing it. “Don’t bring her into this.” 

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“You shut down so hard and pushed me so far away when we lost her, Love,” Simon said, reaching out to touch my knee. I pulled away instantly like his touch burned me. I sat rigid in my seat as I refused to look at him. “We made mistakes and we fucked up. I fucked up. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me.” His voice was catching, making it hard to steel myself, to keep myself in my self appointed isolation. “It’s not your fault and I don’t blame you for anythin’. The drinkin’, the lyin’, the fights, I don’t blame you. Neither of us were in the right. I. . . I never stopped lovin’ you. Even when I met Johnny, I still loved you just as much as I did before. I still do.”

I shook my head, feeling my shell crack as tears slid down my face. 

“You had a miscarriage, Love. We lost our baby girl and I thought I lost you too,” Simon choked out. We didn’t talk like this after we got home from the hospital. I had been seven months pregnant when something happened. There were sharp pains that I shouldn’t have had. Before we knew it I was in the hospital bleeding, hemorrhaging. The sac she was in didn’t develop right and it burst. By the time I was in delivery she was already gone. I barely made it out alive. 

“You’re not just one event in your Simon’s life,” Johnny said suddenly, making me flinch. “A loss of a child is one of the hardest emotional pains to endure and a lot of couples do divorce afterwards because it seems like the world has come down upon you. It’s okay to feel those feelings and work through them, but it seems that you didn’t want to or didn’t have the capacity at the time to work through it with Simon. These things take time and that may be what was needed. Time.”

“Johnny was my counselor for a while,” Simon said with a soft chuckle. I looked at him, seeing the tears running down his cheeks, his mask off. It was the first time I had seen his face since before the hospital visit. “Then for obvious reasons I started seein’ a different counselor.”

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

“The heart wants what it wants,” Johnny said with a soft smile and a shrug. “All that aside, with everything Simon has told me, I couldn’t deny him of seeing you. He loves you too much and I love him. I want us to be happy and even if that means we have separate relationships with Simon or if you just want to be friends again, I am all for it. Being married and together for so long, as well as soulmates, makes for an intense relationship, but also one you can’t just forget and burn a bridge to with something like you guys. All I ask is that you consider it and we’ll work through it together.”

“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I don’t think I’m ready or ever will be ready.”

“Love,” Simon said, reaching out to grasp my hand that had gripped my knee tightly. “We don’t have to pick up where we left off. I just. . . I need you in my life. Please.” 

God, the feel of his hand around mine made me want to curl into a ball in his lap, let him rock me and hold me. It was so hard to keep myself in check. 

“So, this is about making yourself feel better?” I said, trying to make a wedge between us. He needed to leave and move on with Johnny. They could be happy together, adopt, get a dog. I was too broken and missing pieces. There was no way that I could go back to him, not because he had been the cause, but because I was certain I would only hurt him again when he saw how badly I was cracked. “I told you, Simon. I am not who I was when we met, let alone when we got married. This version of me is not someone who is the loving and caring partner that is soft and a safe place to land.”

Build me up or tear me down, I will never make a sound

Build me up or tear me down

“How about a reset?” Johnny said. I looked at him confused, unsure what he was getting at. “You wipe the slate clean, you start over. That means, you start out as friends again, move on from there. I find it helps couples that feel they can’t get over certain bumps in the road to have an imaginary reset button. It’s been a year since you two have been around each other, you’re obviously in different places in your lives, and you have changed. A reset would probably be the best thing for you two if you want to be around one another again.”

“So what, we just pretend nothing happened before now?” I asked with a scoff.

“No, you definitely don’t do that,” Johnny said. “You start fresh. You acknowledge that you both have a past, but you don’t work around it. You work with it.” 

“I’m on board for whatever you want,” Simon said. I took a deep breath, holding Simon’s hand without realizing it. 

Run a dagger through my chest, I believe it's for the best

Build me up or tear me down

“I can’t,” I said, pulling my hand away from him. “I just can’t.” That sucking pit in my chest that had snuck up on me was gasping to get more of me. 

“You don’t have to punish yourself for losing a child,” Johnny said. He had gone to his knees in front of me, making me see his face as he looked up at me. His words were spoken softly, but a force to pull me back from that place I was comfortable with. Where it was dark and lonely and it made sense to feel guilt. “You did everything you could to keep her safe and loved her so much. You were a good mum. It’s not your fault.”

All I could do was stare at him as he nodded, taking my shaky, clammy hands in his large, rough ones. I had manhandled him into cuffs earlier without hesitation, moving on instinct, and now I was in his calm, grounding grasp. “But-”

“It will never be your fault. There is no need to punish you for something that was not your doing. You deserve to be loved and have someone be there for you. This was not a failure on your part and never will be. You can let go of that weight. You’re not alone anymore and don’t have to be again.”

There are scars that'll never ever show themselves

You get when you're left alone too long in Hell

“Okay,” I choked out. “I. . . I want to try the reset thing.”

“We’ll go slow and easy,” Simon said. 

“I want to start as friends, with both you and Johnny,” I said looking from Simon to Johnny.

“That’s the most I would ask for,” Johnny said, a smile on his face. 

“Give me some time right now. I’ll text you later and we’ll go from there, okay?” I said, needing to remember to breathe.

They tried to keep in the secrets that you wouldn't tell

But they just stripped you for parts you had to sell

“Sounds good,” Simon said, a smile spreading across his face as well. Even though we got what we all wanted apparently, why was I the only one not smiling? Why did it feel like I wasn’t going to get what was promised? The only person dangling the carrot in front of me was myself and I knew the bitch would never let me have it if someone didn’t make her.

“I’m gonna give you two a minute, I’ll be out in the car,” Johnny said, getting up. He dropped a kiss to Simon’s head and waved to me before letting himself out. 

“What?” I said, looking at Simon as he stared me down.

“Do you really want to do this? To reset?” He asked. 

“If I didn’t, would I have said yes to it?” I asked, rolling my eyes, unable to keep from putting up my guards.

“No, but that doesn’t mean you’re lettin’ it all out there,” he said. 

“I just. . . I don’t know. I feel like I let two strangers into my apartment to emotionally bully me into a relationship that I am terrified of,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t know how to be or to act around you anymore.”

“It’s okay,” Simon said, taking my hand in his. It was warm and rough, just like always. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll give you all the time and space you want.”

“What if I don’t want space?” I blurted out. I had shut down after Dierdre, pushed everyone away, and made myself alone. Like Johnny had figured out, I was punishing myself for my daughter’s death. I did that to myself because it felt like the right thing to do at the time, but I didn’t want it anymore. Not when Simon wanted me back, but. . . 

“What do you mean?” Simon asked.

“I mean. . . I am so tired of being alone and I am so tired of pushing people away. I don’t care about the sex or kissing, I just don’t want to be alone again,” I said, managing to get it out before I broke down into sobs. 

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

Simon didn’t let go of me. Slowly, he pulled me from my chair to set me in his lap. His long arms wrapped around me, holding me tight as I sobbed against him. 

It had been so long since I’d had that simple comfort that I didn’t want to let go. I didn’t want to go slow and stay home by myself. I wanted to go with Simon and Johnny and just stop being fucking alone. It was as if Simon was reading my mind as the back of my hand began to itch under my tattoo. 

“Why don’t you come home with us for a while?” Simon asked. “Don’t worry about anythin’, I’ll help you pack a bag and when you feel up to it, we’ll come back.”

Build me up or tear me down, I will never make a sound

Build me up or tear me down

“Okay,” I nodded, hiccuping from crying so hard. There was no fight left in me as he continued to hold me, only taking out his phone to text Johnny. A few more minutes and I walked with him like a child holding their parents hand to their bedroom where the monsters were. We packed a basic bag before I slid on shoes then grabbed my keys, phone, and wallet. With my place locked up, Simon led me out to the car where Johnny was waiting in the driver’s seat. He didn’t say a word or make any fuss as Simon got in the back with me to hold me as we drove back to their house. 

I knew Simon had sold our old house six months ago, getting another one down the street from it. It was a blessing because I would not be able to go back into that house. Brief flashes of how we had worked to make it ours, the decorations, furniture, the nursery ran through my mind. But instead of breaking down and having a drink, I nuzzled against Simon’s chest as his heavy arm kept me close.

Run a dagger through my chest, I believe it's for the best

Build me up or tear me down

Once there, I walked in holding Simon’s hand. Johnny didn’t seem surprised at all by any of it. In fact it was almost like he was expecting it. “Here’s some water and ibuprofen, you probably have a headache and are dehydrated,” he said as he handed me both items.

“Thanks,” I said, taking them. 

“If you’re hungry we can order something or you’re more than welcome to lay down or even take a shower, whatever you’d like,” Johnny said as he took my bag for me. Going down the hall and straight to their room. I knew it was their room because it had a huge bed I could see from the front. 

“I can sleep on the couch or the guest room,” I said, trying to back peddle from something I didn’t even realize was taking off so quickly.

“Don’t worry about,” Johnny said. “You’re probably touch starved and your soulmates haven’t been around in a year. It’ll create a tension of sorts, make you irritable, cause mood swings, depression, anxiety, general mental disarray. The best thing to do for it, if you can, is to be with your soulmates. That means you share the bed with us.”

“Us?” I said, my voice cracking.

If I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“Simon will sleep in the middle, don’t worry,” Johnny said as he walked to the closet to grab extra pillows and blankets. 

“I think I’ve just been bamboozled,” I mumbled. That little shit knew all along that I’d end up coming home with them. He probably knew about the tickets! Knew that I was a bounty hunter! I was going to have to keep my eye on him. 

“Probably,” Simon said with a chuckle. “He’s shifty like that. But, he is right. You’re probably touch starved, so you’re stayin’ in the same bed as us. Do you want to shower or anythin’?” 

“I just want to lay down. My head is killing me and I’m a bit overwhelmed,” I said.

“Fair enough, keep drinkin’ the water though,” Simon said as he led me to the bedroom. 

“Yes, Sir,” I said with a snort before taking a drink of the water.

“Oh, yeah, Simon is definitely, Sir,” Johnny said as he put the pillows and blankets on the bed for me. I couldn’t help but choke on my water. “Oh, too soon?”

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

“I think she just needs to rest,” Simon said, patting me on the back. 

“Okay,” Johnny said with a shrug. “Here’s a wet cloth for ye too.” He handed me one for my eyes before walking out. 

“Here, you get settled,” Simon said, helping me get into the large, California King sized bed. “Need anything else?” 

If I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“No, I think I’m good,” I said, letting him drape the wet cloth over my forehead. 

“Alright. I’m gonna go take a shower then I’ll be in to lay down with you, okay?” He said.

“Okay,” I mumbled, already falling asleep. It didn’t take long for me to do just that, but I woke up later as Simon was sliding into bed. All the noises were gone from the usual household that was awake, telling me everyone was going to bed. I felt Simon lay on his back, making it easy for me to move to lay with my arm over his belly. What I didn’t expect was another arm to lay over mine. At first I wanted to pull away, but the longer I let it stay, the more it felt right.

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

Masterlist

Taglist: @birdstoprey @sebbytheraccoon @pricescigar @alwaysshallow @sae1kie @sleepydang @lexi-zsy09 @ghostlywhiskey @ghosts-cyphera @poohkie90 @neothewitch @shadofireshinobi @sadslasher13 @0alk0msan @xaestheticalien

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #soapghost #soap x reader #john mactavish #johnny mactavish/reader #soap/reader/ghost

[crestapex]

Price: What kind of girl do you prefer?

Ghost: My wife.

Price: Now what kind of girl do you prefer?

Soap: Ghost’s wife.

#gaz in the background knowing ghost is standing right behind him: 😦 #tempted to write a ghost x reader x soap smut fic #incorrect quotes #call of duty #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost mw3 #ghost x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap mw2 #soap mw3 #soap x reader #captain john price #captain price #john price #my posts

[shotmrmiller]

I havent a wrinkle in this brain of mine for plot, so have some porn without plot instead :)

Maybe it's because Johnny has you blindfolded, but he feels different. He's heavier on top of you and feels a bit bigger inside of you. It stings more than usual when he finally pushes his cock into your sopping cunt, swollen and tender from the four orgasms he took from you with his mouth alone. Your inner thighs burn as they stretch wider around his thick waist. When his lips meet yours, as your tongues entwine, he tastes of bourbon. He's quiet too, which is very different from the usual filth he whispers into your ear.

But when he starts rocking his hips, all thought fades, along with the ache in between your legs. His thrusts are long, pulling out until only the tip of his cock remains inside. Then he pushes forward steadily until he's pressed firmly against the entrance of your womb— making you wince slightly at the pinch. He does this tirelessly until obscene squelches emit from your cunt, that pinch deep inside of you turning into spine-tingling bliss. Your skin erupts in goosebumps when his head nudges against your sweet spot, a loud moan falling from your lips. He mutedly chuckles, his chest vibrating against sweat-slick breasts and the coarseness of his chest hair grazing your hardened nipples only heightens your pleasure.

You feel him move away from you until his cock slips out, only to vigorously grab at your hips and pull you to him. Your upper body rests on the bed, while he sits on his haunches and keeps your legs spread with his thick thighs as he slowly pushes back inside. But this time, it's not all the way. Oh, no. You know exactly what's about to happen.

"Wait-" but he doesn't. He fixedly keeps you in place at the angle he wants, the angle you need, and moves. His thrusts turn staccato— short, quick jabs— and he's hitting your spot, the one that has you going cross-eyed behind the blindfold. Your mouth is slightly open, drooling at the corner of it as you're rendered helpless against his onslaught.

The fire in your stomach blazes, every snap of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, the coil within you tightening, your body tensing. You can hear him spit— can feel a warm glob of liquid land on your mons, and dribble down to your aching, neglected clit. His thumb collects the saliva and swirls your bud under the pad of his calloused thumb rigidly.

Your spine arches off the mattress so sharply it pops as you climax, a choked scream ripping out of your throat. Your nails dig into the delicate skin of his wrists, no doubt leaving behind red welts. He doesn't stop the stimulation on your clit, his hips never falter in rhythm as he prolongs your mind-numbing pleasure.

Body going limp in his hands, you hiss in oversensitivity and swat at his hands. "Ow, love-" but he cuts you off with a searing kiss before flipping you on your knees, and to the edge of the lofty bed. You're rising to your hands when his big, rough palm pushes you down— his intent clear. With your chest on the bed, he sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke and the angle he goes in with is nothing short of devastating.

If you hadn't been wailing, you would've heard the deep, guttural noise that escaped his mouth. You can feel him in your sternum, replacing the air in your lungs. He swiftly picks up his left leg, positions it on the bed next to you, and sets a merciless pace. The force behind his thrusts rattles your very bones, leaves you breathless. You can feel the meat of your arse ripple with every slap of his hips— can feel the bruises forming in your skin under his hands.

You lift your hand to feel where he's splitting you open, fingers encasing his cock, he stiffens— swells painfully inside of you then he's coming with a snarl. His Cock twitches as it spurts his essence into you, stuffing you full and then some because you can feel his cum trickle down your legs. You try to lift yourself with quivering arms but again, you're manhandled and flipped onto your back, a squawk of indignation silenced with an all-consuming kiss. His lips move against yours feverishly, as if he's committing your taste to memory.

He finally relents, pulling away but you hold him in place with your hands cupping his face and murmur an 'I love you'. The only response you get is one you feel, as he tips his head in a nod, and then presses a kiss into your sweaty temple before moving away.

Later, when you and Johnny are in the shower, you notice that there isn't a single scratch on his wrists even though you definitely dug your nails into him. And that reminds you.

"Johnny?"

"Aye, bonnie?"

"Since when do you drink bourbon?"

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #cod #simon riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #johnny soap mctavish x reader #simon riley x you #drabble

[witchthewriter]

Gaz: I sleep with a knife under my pillow.

Soap: Weak. I sleep with a gun.

Y/N: You’re both pathetic

Soap: What do YOU sleep with?

Y/N: Simon.

#incorrect quotes #incorrect cod quotes #cod #call of duty #gaz #soap #call of duty incorrect quotes #headcanons #witchthewriter #simon riley #ghost #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish #kyle garrick #incorrect call of duty quotes #witch the writer's incorrect quotes #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mw3 #call of duty mwii #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw22 #simon riley x y/n

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Y/N, on the floor: Go on...without me! Soap, crying and kneeling down beside them: No! We can get through this together, just like we always do! Y/N: There's no time! You must defend our honour. Don't let my death be for nothing! Soap, sobbing: I can't do this without you! Y/N: Goodbye, old friend...*goes limp* Konig, whispering to Ghost: They do realise this is just a dodgeball game, right? Ghost, aiming at Soap: Konig, this is war. Show no mercy

#shamelessly stolen from fangirl-dot-com #cod modern warfare #cod x y/n #cod x reader #cod x you #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley #soap cod #soap mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john mactavish #konig cod #konig mw2 #soap x y/n #soap x reader #soap x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x you #konig x reader #konig x you #konig x y/n #call of duty

[shmalk]

ghost has no idea what to make of you. you show up out of nowhere, barely a day after price announces that they have an extra addition on their team for the next mission, and then you show up.

you're nothing like them - you probably haven't seen a man get shot, never felt your bones break and have to set them yourself in a fight. he has this sick fantasy of breaking you, wiping that stupid smile off your face and watching you crumple as he breaks your spine with one hand.

soap loves having you on base, you're good with a gun and you'll joke with him about almost anything - sure, you never come out to the pub with them, but whenever they come back to base you've cooked something and that's better than any pint of beer johnny's ever had.

he's worried, he thinks you wont make it out there - beside them. you're small, and not in the sense that you're short, in the sense that there's barely anything to you, nothing to grab if you trip in the middle of active fire.

gaz is just finally glad to have someone else to talk to, to complain about soap and ghost to, rant about how price pissed him off. you're always willing to talk, which is probably a good thing.

he always turns down his radio whenever you're on a mission together, he doesn't want to hear you die, or hear your voice trail off as you get caught. he has to bite his knuckle whenever you speak out of fear.

price is sick of it, sick of watching the boys play with you like a doll and then sit you delicately back on the shelf, so he takes matters into his own hands and shoots you between the eyes.

you sit up four minutes later.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

i just rlly like the idea of immortal!reader but the guys have no idea and suspect nothing until they get shot in the head and then just,,, get back up !

#john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #141 x reader #141 headcanons #141 x you #call of duty #cod headcanons #cod mw2 #shmalk ! ᧔♡᧓

[y13evie]

141 + konig reactions to seeing reader in thigh highs?

141 n koni babys reaction to seeing u wearing thigh highs

nsfw under cut you’ve been warned

john price is a simple man. even old fashioned, if you will. so he does what any normal man would do. sat you on the bed and began kissing down your thigh all the way to your ankle. savoring how beautiful your skin looked in the elegant fabric. he eventually began leaving sloppier kisses against your inner thighs. by the time he got to your dripping heat, the lacy garments were off.

simon riley basked in the sight for about a minute before tearing them off. something about how gorgeous your thighs looked drove him insane. your legs are fully spread apart, taking his full length as if your life depended on it. while tears are forming at your eyes due to his sheer size, he scolds you. he scolds you for wearing such a slutty thing, basically asking to get ravaged.

johnny mactavish tried his best to ignore the fact you had been walking around your shared kitchen in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of white thigh highs. the way the delicate material wrapped around your thighs made his cock twitch needily. you stood over the countertop making a simple lunch for your boyfriend, johnny let his arms snake around your waist and let his hands wander. he began softly humping you through his sweatpants, whining for you to come to the bedroom.

kyle garrick tried his hardest to pretend he didn’t notice that sexy lingerie sitting atop of your thighs. but he did. he noticed it all. the way you shuffled between him and the coffee table when the two of you were watching a movie, ass moving right across his face. the way you had sat on his lap while texting your friends back, ignoring the way his throbbing dick was proding against you. he eventually gave in. bending you over the sofa and softly lecturing you about how it’s naughty to tease him all day while wearing tight lingerie around the house.

poor könig couldn’t contain himself for that long. the way your thighs looked so perfect killed him. he pulled you onto his lap facing him. whining about how you made him so needy by wearing something so cute. he used giant hands to rock your hips back and forth on his hard length, leaning down to your ear whispering about how he’s fuck you stupid while watching the lacy fabric hug your plump thighs

#cod x reader #tf 141 #141 x reader #john price #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick smut #gaz x reader #gaz cod #konig modern warfare #konig mw2 #konig x reader #konig smut #konig x reader smut

[emeraldbloodcrown]

18+|mdni

Gaz who eats pussy like a reward, who hurries home, always foregoing drinks with the task force to celebrate a personal win, because he knows you're at home for him, legs spread and gently touching yourself, only waiting to drop to his knees in front of you and drag you to his mouth.

Ghost who eats pussy to calm down, who needs something to anger him after he woke up from a nightmare, and he pushes you on your back, lips trailing down your soft skin, taking in your scent and feeling the pressure ease out of his muscles just a little. Ghost who takes his time sucking on your clit, making out with the sensitive bundle while just keeping a finger inside you to make sure your orgasm won't come until he wants it to.

Johnny who eats pussy like it's his last meal, who needs to stake his claim on you and checks his guns on his next deployment with your taste still on his tongue and the reassurance on his mind, that should he not come back, no one would ever compare to him in that particular way

Price who eats pussy like it's owed to him, who bends over backwards to not only keep you safe but to fulfill all your wishes before you could even utter them, so who were you to complain if he wanted a little treat for his troubles. If he bend you over your desk, skirt simply pushed up and panties pulled to the side, his fingers rubbing and pinching your clit with his tongue thrusting inside of your hole

#crown mumbles #cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty #cod #john price #john price x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

TF141 reactions to "can you get this thing off the top shelf for me?"

inspired by @cod-dump's height hcs :)

chronologically:

you ask PRICE first. seems like a harmless enough question to you but he just says, "what kind of captain would i be if i solved all your problems for you?"

what the fuck, you think.

"you can do it," he says. "problem-solve. think tall thoughts."

then SOAP walks by, so you ask him next. he sees price standing there looking highly amused (and you looking highly irritated). soap would never, never miss an opportunity to cause problems on purpose, and if price is already picking on you, well...

you're relieved for half a second when soap reaches up and grabs the box you wanted. he opens it, grabs a handful of the granola inside (THAT YOU WANTED) and tosses it into his own mouth. then he puts the box back. on a higher shelf.

by the time GAZ notices what's happening, you're halfway climbing up the shelves to get it your damn self. he sees the shelves leaning away from the wall dangerously and obviously he pushes them back into place with one hand and pulls you back to the ground with the other. does not understand your exasperation with him; he was keeping you from cracking your head open??

so finally GHOST comes up behind you both and grabs the box you want. he turns. offers it to you. finally.

when you go to grab it from him, he keeps ahold of it and leans in. he would like you to share.

...

more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

#mine #snippet #poly 141 #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #poly!141 #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #simon ghost riley #john price #captain price #captain john price #price cod #ghost #ghost cod #soap cod #simon riley #ghost riley #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x you #johnny mactavish x reader