#and john calls them to get Affection and Attention

[tojisun]

thinking about biker! simon going out with his girl and the other guys at a biker bar. reader hasn't really seen how scared people are of simon - who they all call ghost - until she goes to get him another drink. while she's at the bar, a guy comes over trying to hit on her. then this hulking, 6'4 guy in a skull mask appears and the guy is ready to run out of the bar. simon didn't even have to talk just glare. while readers like ???

ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE THIS WAS SENT IM SORRY FOR JUST REPLYING NOW :(( BUT YES ABSOLUTELY YES!! my stomach swooped when i saw this hhhhh im actually kicking my legs n twirling my hair n everythingg!!

naturally, im bad at making drabbles because this turned out long again :’) im sorry

biker!simon mlist // star divider by @/plutism <33

simon’s hand is warm on the small of your back as he leads you further into the bar. you shuffle along his languid steps, head swivelling as you try to find familiar faces in the crowd – so far, none yet.

simon chuckles from beside you, and you peer up at him only to see his eyes crinkled from underneath his balaclava, no doubt smiling at you. he bows his head closer towards yours, trying, in vain, to devour as much of the space made by the height difference between you two.

“what?”

“nothin’, sweet girl.” he presses his covered lips on the top of your head, breathing you in. “come on, i see ‘em.”

he shifts the two of you, the hand that’s settled on the small of your back gliding until it hooks around your waist, pulling you ever so closer to him. protective. possessive. it makes you hum in delight, happiness thrumming underneath your skin.

(you don’t notice the way many people shift to get out of simon’s way; heads downturned as though afraid of even meeting his eyes. you don’t notice the way they turn to each other when you two passed by, as though making sure that it was simon they saw. simon – ghost – with a sweet darling pressed to his side, his bulk warding away stray gazes. you don’t notice the way they huddle with each other, whispering promises that ghost’s girl should always be protected. because yes they fear ghost, but more than that, loyalty to each other is stronger.)

he leads you towards a small pack by the far side, the table doused less in light than the rest of the bar. johnny’s already turned towards you and simon, watching with a grin as you two make it across. kyle’s seated beside him, the younger man leaned to watch the ongoing hockey game. then you see the back of john’s familiar head, his beloved boonie slung around his neck.

“finally made it, huh lass?” johnny says in greeting, snagging the attention of both kyle and john, the two of them chiming in their own hello’s. you smile, waving at them as you claim the empty seat between simon and john.

“had to make a quick stop at 7-11,” simon responds, his hand curling at one of the legs of your chair before pulling you towards him. the metal squeaks against the tiles, the sound thankfully drowned out by the loud bass.

“oh did you?” john asks, ignoring whatever simon did given how they’re all so used to his soft displays of possessiveness. he offers you a smile when you turn to him with a nod.

“had to buy, um, medicine for my stomachache.”

it’s endearing how their faces shift so fast, little smiles falling as worry takes over. even simon, whose hand is draped on your thigh, tenses, gripping as though he was remembering how he heard your pained whimper or saw you sniffling as the ache echoed, throbbing just below your ribs, choking you up.

“are you feeling any better? did it subside now, at least?” kyle asks.

you nod, quick to reassure them. “the medicine worked! i’m feelin’ better, i promise!”

they relax, tensed shoulders going lax as life flutters back into the table. you smile before sinking ever so closer to simon’s side, shying away from the intensity of their affections for you – your own little band of brotherhood, visceral in the way they care for you.

simon’s grip loosens on your thigh, choosing instead to massage the muscle tenderly. you hum, turning to ask him what he’s getting.

“whiskey, maybe,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by his mask. “you getting your bellini today, love?”

“yes please,” you reply, blinking up at him.

his eyes crinkle again, a telltale sign of his smile, before he pats your thigh and gets up to place the order.

you turn to the group, tuning into johnny’s rambling, listening to him recounting his rally. it was the one you weren’t able to go to because of work, johnny having to reassure you multiple times (even through text) that it’s fine that you’re missing it. so you listened, enraptured, nose scrunching in confusion whenever johnny slips into heavy scottish in his excitement.

“english, mactavish,” simon sighs as he falls back to his seat, startling you. you see johnny flip him off and you make eye contact with kyle, sharing twin looks of exasperation.

simon slides you your bellini and you whisper a thanks, trilling when he noses the top of your head again – your clingy boy.

the conversation rises and falls, sometimes leaving your mind wandering when they start talking about shop, sometimes catching your attention so much that you find yourself leaning on the table, breathless and wide-eyed as you listen to their bike stories – johnny had continued about his rally, kyle talked about the repairs he did for a client who he’s sure is on the run, and john shared that horrifying experience he had on his way home where he thinks he saw a floating woman by the east side highway.

“your turn, big guy,” you say, tapping simon’s knee.

simon finishes his whiskey – his balaclava tugged just enough to show his chin and his lips – before plopping the empty glass on the table with a sigh. you huff a fond laugh, knowing that one glass isn’t enough to satiate the thirst so you dust imaginary dirt off your skirt before standing up.

he tilts his head up in question, arm still hooked around your waist.

“gonna grab us more drinks,” you say. “oh, tell ‘em about the gas station incident!”

he grunts, nodding, and yet he refuses to budge. you fondly roll your eyes and turn to the others. “drinks?”

they all shake their head, johnny specifically saying he’d have to order for himself because he’d want to try the house specialties. you nod, pinching simon’s arm as you dance away from him with a bitten grin, before making your way to the bar.

you prattle away your order, telling the bartender to add the tab to your table, and hover, swaying to the music. it’s a foreign rock band playing, the bass and drums reverberating loudly, you can feel the vibrations pulsing along your body, and you almost get lost in your own thoughts when a hand slides to your back.

you startle, mind quickly cataloguing that this isn’t simon. because simon, for all his impressive silence and his displays of possessiveness, never sneaks up on you like this. he has never let you doubt your safety while with him. so you back away from the stranger’s touch, your hands pressed close to your chest before finally turning to see who went up to you.

the man, who seems to be about your age, smiles upon seeing your face. “hey there, angel.”

the pet name makes you nauseous and your stomach churns once again. you have to ask for the medicine from simon when you return to the table.

“hi,” you squeak, not letting him off your sight.

“you seem new here. i am too.” he laughs, scratching his neck. then, “it really ain’t my scene.”

“uh-huh,” you say, not knowing what else to tell him.

his chuckles peter out, a suave smile replacing what had been an awkward display of forced laughter. he clears his throat. “so, what’s a sweet thing like you doing alone here?”

“she ain’t alone, kid,” the bartender answers for you and you turn to him, surprised, before thanking him as he presents you with your whiskey and bellini.

the bartender nods to you in reply before crossing his arms in front of his chest and addresses the stranger again. “go bother someone else.”

the man arches a brow in question, his lips pursing in distaste. “oh yeah? she seems pretty available to me.”

the phrase hits you badly.

your anxiousness bleeds away to make room for your ire and you snarl, dropping your hands from where they’re pressed on your chest to rest them on your hips.

“what did you just say?” you ask, your voice a measured anger. “i’m fucking what now?”

he raises his hands up like he’s pacifying you. “hey, hey. didn’t mean that, my pretty girl-”

“she’s not your anything, you mad wanker.”

the sound of simon’s voice makes you settle, a wave of safety and comfort washing over you, dousing the angry churning in the pit in your stomach. simon steps from behind the stranger, towering over him, before moving to stand beside you. his hand hovers, questioning, and you give him a soft nod that gets simon pulling you close to him. his hand falls to the small of your back, caressing, and you wonder if he knows that the man had grazed his hand there just minutes ago. if simon’s doing this to overwrite the unpleasant feeling that was sticking to you.

“oh,” the stranger breathes out and you notice the way his hands are trembling, the tight balls of his fists turning his knuckles white. “i, uh, i’m sorry, ghost.” then he’s off, running out of the bar with his tail tucked between his legs.

you huff at the realization that the mad man didn’t even apologize to you. what a fucking prick.

“you doin’ alright there, baby?” simon asks, pulling you to him. he settles on an empty bar stool – you are sure those were filled just minutes ago… – and tugs you so that you are standing between his legs.

he cups your cheeks, thumbs tracing lines just underneath your eyes, and it makes you drag a shaky inhale.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart. i should’ve accompanied you.” simon sounds distressed, his eyes furrowed in the intensity of his worry.

you coo at him, it’s your turn to cup his jaw this time. “i’m alright, si. i promise.”

he shifts his eyes between yours, searching for anything besides the truth, and he folds himself into you when he sees that you mean it. you laugh, patting at his head, wishing that he doesn’t have his balaclava so you can play with his hair, before turning to the bartender who, in the sudden absence of customers by the counter, is watching you two with a pinched smile.

“thank you again,” you tell him and he grunts, nodding. simon straightens up and groans as he stands, his big body unaccustomed to the tiny bar stools.

“yeah,” he says, addressing the bartender. “thanks for bein’ here for my girl, alex.”

the bartender – alex – just waves his hand around in dismissal. “it’s nothin’, really. now go away, i want customers.”

simon and alex laugh, sharing an inside joke, and you swivel your head around in confusion because now that alex had mentioned it, where did everyone go? and why are they all huddled together, far from the bar?

simon closes his hand on your wrist and pulls. you barely manage a goodbye to alex who waves at you in reply.

…alex?

“wait. that’s alex?”

best believe that simon has connections anywhere he goes. if not for himself, it’s for his girl!!!

me, shamefully staring at the word count (1.8k) of what should’ve been a drabble: well now…

#suns.f #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #anon #ask #suns #deviously screaming!! i love scary ghost but a sweetheart to his girl <333 thank u sm anon for this i hope u like it hhhhh

[s-coquette]

Three’s a Crowd (1/2)

summary: Your loving boyfriend Johnny is trying to force Simon into your relationship without your consent.

word count: 2k

part two

———————

His electric blue eyes beamed at you, it was easy to get lost in them. You felt like you were swimming laps in the oceans that were his irises before you eventually drowned in them.

“I love ya, bonnie. You know that right?”

You couldn’t help but let the infectious grin spread to your face. Cradling his giant head in your hands before smushing your faces together in an ugly display of affection. Laying on your shared bed, facing each other and basking in your shared presence. Everything felt perfect.

“I love you too, Johnny.”

•

Johnny was an easy going man. You met him almost a year ago while you were walking your dog, she managed to jump onto him and get his pants wet with her dirty paws. You scolded her while trying to apologise, the embarrassment of your pups doings making you talk 100 an second.

Somehow that spiralled into him asking for your number, which you gladly gave. It’s not every day you meet an attractive guy with the most intoxicating personality you ever witnessed. Ever since then it’s been perfect, everything you could ask for and more. Johnny was the most attentive and honest man you’ve ever met in your life, when you admitted that you’ve never been in a relationship before his only answer was,

“I ought to show you the best then, hen.”

From what you could gather Johnny was ex-military, being with the strict routine and the regular nightmares, runs in the morning, going to the gym almost every day. He later told you he was discharged because he lost some of his hearing, especially in his right ear, explaining that he was a demolitions expert.

You felt bad for him, it’s obviously something he loved very much, he’d talk about his time in the service, about his squad. That’s when the name ‘Simon’ starts appearing a lot. Of course he told you about his Captain, John Price, and the same ranking sergeant Kyle or as he would call him ‘Gaz’. You weren’t well versed in the entire military thing, the most you knew were some rankings and that’s it. It never really mattered to you that much, but since it was your boyfriends favourite topic, you’d learn for him.

The name ‘Ghost’ or ‘Simon’ was brought up a lot. It made you uncomfortable sometimes, the extent on which he emphasised that man.

Johnny called him his best friend, he was a lieutenant if you understood him correctly. He said he was still in contact with him but that the bond they had while they were in the army was something else. The nights they spent together locked up in safe houses alone and injured, looking out for each other. He told you that Simon seemed like a big scary monster once you first see him, but when you crack down his walls a little he is comforting and relaxing.

The way he talked about this man made you slightly creeped out, the erotic undertones of some of the things he described were sounding more like love confessions than stories from their service.

•

“Simon’s in town for a bit, mind going out to the pub with us?”

Johnny had asked you excitedly, he was going wether you wanted to or not.

You sighed and decided that it was time to meet the man your boyfriend idolised so much. Getting dressed casually as it wasn’t a date.

The first time you approached him you had to do a double take, looking at Johnny ready to ask if you were going to the right person.

There, seated at the small stools on the pub was this mammoth of a man, absolutely gigantic and muscled everywhere. You almost broke out into a sweat from the way his brown gaze pierced through you. Gulping as Johnny hugged him, his stare directed at the man was so affectionate and loving that you kind of felt jealous.

The thing that creeped you out about him was the black balaclava that tightly hugged his head. What kind of people was Johnny considering close friends? The night was spent tense, Simon wouldn’t move his eyes off of you. It felt like he was dissecting you brain to see your inner thoughts with how hard he was staring you down.

You exchanged some words, awkwardly sitting next to Johnny while he had a blast talking his ass off. If he’s happy that’s all that matters you guess.

“Y’know, ye should come over sometime! The lass n’ I get quite bored without much company.”

The suggestion made you pause your obnoxious slurping with your straw, trying to scoop out any contents left of the barely alcoholic cocktail.

“I just might.”

The deep baritone voice paired with his Manchester accent made that sound like a threat. You sincerely hoped it was white lie.

After saying your goodbyes that night, Johnny continued to rave about the man. This made you slightly annoyed, you get that they shared way more vulnerable moments together than you two ever will but he’s been yapping about him non stop since you got home.

“Johnny, I don’t really think Simon is the type of person i’d like to be around. Next time you can go by yourself.”

The edge of your tone made him perk up, eyebrows furrowed.

“Why? Wha’s wrong, hen? Did he say somethin’ to you?”

“No- I just… Don’t feel like i belong in your friendship, and i don’t want to intrude on it.”

You forced out with almost gritted teeth. The look on Johnnys face almost made you feel guilty for saying that.

“Why would you think so, bonnie?”

He continues to question you, keeping probing for a real answer and you snap.

“I don’t know, Johnny. He’s creepy as shit to be honest and I felt like he was going to kill me with how hard he was staring at me the whole night, you can hang out with who you want to but seriously keep me

out of this one.”

That visibly made your boyfriend upset. His thin lips pressed into a line, almost looking like he was pouting, in any other context you would’ve gushed at how cute he looked but right now you were frustrated.

You sighed, you couldn’t be mad at him. He was your first boyfriend and you really didn’t want to fuck things up with him.

You put your knees on the edge of the bed where he was sitting and hugged his head to your chest, lightly caressing his slightly overgrown mohawk with your nails.

“You can..”

He perked up, his eyes suddenly losing their sadness. He stared at you like he was waiting for you to continue. Almost like a dog wagging its tail.

“You can invite him over, I guess. Just leave me out of it.”

“Will do!”

He enthusiastically pushed your face down and smashed your mouths together, basically licking the inside your mouth. The action making you giggle and push at his chest.

He only gripped you tighter, his calloused hands sliding down your shoulders and ribs, comfortably placing them on your waist. Johnny pushed you down onto his lap and you felt just how hard he was, his erection straining against his jeans.

A breathy whine escapes you as he pushes you down to feel his arousal.

“What’s got you so worked up?”

He only sends you a malicious grin in response before flipping you on your back, unceremoniously flopping on the bed. His pace was rabid as he teared your clothes off, making you gasp at his unusual behaviour.

When he discarded your soaked through panties, he made it a point to spread your legs as wide as he could to stare at your cunt. The embarrassment of being so closely analysed making you reach a hand down and cover yourself, the action was quickly shut down when he slapped your hand away resulting in a gasp.

“Why’re you hiding yer’ pretty little cunt from me, hen?”

The grin in his voice was so strong that you didn’t even need to look at him to see it.

“Jealous little thing, huh? Got all wet and angry because she thought Simon was gonna steal me away.”

Realisation dawned on you when you realised he wasn’t talking to you, but your cunt. You let out a warning whine for him to stop, leg pushing at his shoulder in protest.

“Why would I? Seems like she likes a little dirty talk. Maybe i should get Simon to watch me fuck her and see who really owns her, huh?”

The way he was talking about it as if it were a person was making you uncomfortably wet. The constant mentioning of Simon fuelled your nerves from before, making you shove at his shoulders with you feet.

You let out a whimper when you finally felt his thumb circling your clit in fast and right circles, just how you like it. Head falling back against the pillows and drowning in the sensation, anger melting away.

“Wha’s wrong? You don’t like hearing about Simon?”

You nodded, trying to prove your point but he just sped up, his index stroking your folds and making slick sounds while teasing to push in.

“Big bloke, yeah? You don’t find him attractive?”

You shake your head, letting out a loud moan when he pushes his finger in and curls it just the way you like, pressing directly on the spongy spot and swirling it around.

“With the way your little pussy is reacting, I don’t think that’s the whole truth, hen. Bet you want him to pound this tight little cunt until you can’t think. Big arms around your neck, hot cock inside your cunt.”

He added another finger, speeding up his movements.

The way he was describing it was making you wetter, the thought of the man you despised, felt jealousy over, was making you turned on. The guilty feeling was nagging at the back of your head but you couldn’t shake off the stimulation he was giving you, too focused on pleasure to stop him.

“Ah- That’s it, hen. You like that? Can’t say i haven’t thought about it myself either.”

That made you snap out of it, trying to sit up only to be pushed down again with a hand to your chest.

“Shhh, just enjoy it.”

He kept going, your climax way too close, you tried bucking your hips up to add onto the stimulation with little success.

“Say Simon while you’re cumming or i won’t fuck you for the rest of the month.”

That made you perk up, a pained whine escaping you, a little string of ‘no’ followed by a loud moan when he closed his mouth around your clit and sucked.

You felt the blinding hot pleasure peak as you gripped at his hair and tried to push him away.

A meek little ‘Simon’ escaped you as your climax peaked, with his hard hearing you weren’t sure if he even heard you, you sure hoped he didn’t.

The grin on his slick covered face when he rose up was telling the truth.

“Why would you ask me to say that!?”

Your post orgasm emotions washing over you, wanting to cling onto him but feeling betrayed by him and your own body.

“I ken’ you think you don’t like him, but give him a chance, hen. I wanted to ask you If you’re ok with him watching us fuck.”

He’s got you nice and pliable, vulnerable to every word he says, perfect.

“Wha-“

“It’s normal, y’ ken? You’ve never been in an actual relationship so you wouldn’t know. Best friends do this all the time.”

The confused look on your face made him smile, he just laid down and pushed you into his chest, still fully erect under his clothes.

As you were about to open you mouth to protest, he gripped your cheeks and kissed you roughly.

“I ken you’d understand! My good girl. He’s coming over on Sunday.”

You couldn’t handle arguing right now and decided to leave it for tomorrow morning. Letting sleep engulf you while you rested on your boyfriends sturdy and warm chest.

#s writes 🎀 #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #ghoap #soapghost #ghost x reader #soap x ghost #cod smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw2

[the-californicationist]

he meets you for lunch

Captain Price has been begging to get you alone, and when he finally does, he makes you get yourself off on his thick thigh.

MDNI/18+

Link to AO3

Price had been texting you all morning, and they were all salacious as hell…

Can’t stop thinking about how wet you are.

Gonna make you come all over my cock tonight, love.

Remember that butt plug we bought? You’re going to wake up tomorrow morning with it in one hole and me in the other.

Cock’s so hard for you, pretty girl.

Meet me for lunch. I need to feel that pussy.

You were trying to work, as a shipping manager for his unit no less, and even though you were a civilian, you were still under normal fraternization rules. But, Laswell turned a blind eye, which you were grateful for. However, you tried not to rub her leniency in her face.

Price had been on a tear recently. Ever since you’d stopped taking your birth control, he’d become more and more feral about his affections. You still weren’t trying for a baby, but you had medical issues and needed to work those out. So, it was condoms or, more typically, a belly or ass cheek covered in his come. You had to admit, though, he was turning you on with these messages. You’d worn a dress to work today, being allowed free-reign in your clothing choices, unlike your military colleagues.

You decided to take advantage of your easy-access attire, messaging him back:

Lunch at noon?

He replied almost instantly,

I’m omw

You exhaled a shaky breath through your lips, the excitement of his lustful attention had you hot and bothered. You waited by your phone for him to call.

It wasn’t long until he did. His bearded face popped up on your lock screen as you were walking out of the back door,

“I’m waiting for you, baby. Fucking ready for you.”

“Oh, my God, John. You’re going to get us fired,” you whispered into the mouthpiece.

“Don’t care. Need ya. Need ya right fuckin’ now.”

As he was saying the words, you were watching him say them through his windshield. He was staring right at you, his icy blues piercing through the gap between you, pulling you in like a hypnotist, a snake charmer, a predator stalking his prey.

You opened the heavy door to the truck and heaved yourself up, needing to climb up the step in order to get into the cab. He turned the wheel and sped out of the lot, driving to a nearby park. You’d been there before, but never for sex. Usually, it was just a quiet spot to talk, or to kiss each other without fear of reprimand. But, his aggressive driving was making his intentions quite clear. He slammed the truck into park and reached across the middle console, pulling you over it roughly. It was almost too rough, and you were shocked at his intensity.

“John! Hey,” you caught yourself in his arms, “Baby, slow down.”

He grabbed your arms and shook you once, gently, to get your attention, locking your eyes to his,

“I am on fire. You set me on fire, love. And I need you to put it out.”

“Okay,” you pet his cock through his canvas pants, “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”

He groaned, desperate for your relief. You repositioned your leg on the other side of his thick, muscular thigh, straddling him as you unzipped his pants. He looked at you with suspicion and more of that animalistic aggression,

“Your cunt feels warm on my leg. Put it on me,” you did, “Yes, just like that.”

You rubbed yourself on his thigh, trying to only do it once or twice, not wanting to stain his pant leg.

“Don’t stop,” Price moaned again, shoving your hips back down onto his thigh, “Ride me like that while you tug on my cock.”

“I’ll get…” you had to take a breath. The pleasure of feeling your lips being crushed against his hard muscle was coursing through you, making you lose your bearings, “I’ll get you wet. Mess up your pants…”

“Good. Fuckin’ do it. I wanna feel how wet you are. Play with that dick, baby. Touch me, please.”

You didn’t know how to say no to him. As you rode his leg, you chased your orgasm, and it came easily to you. You used both hands to massage his cock, using your wrists to twist and curl around him, leaning forward near enough to smell the familiar scent of expensive tobacco on his breath. Each time you canted your hips forward and back, you felt your pussy flex and slide across the cotton of your panties and the thick, rugged canvas fabric, spreading your lips apart and exposing your clit. You kept up a feverish pace, half of you striving towards his completion while the other half of you chased down your pleasure like a bandit.

Eventually, like a sharpened knife, the sensations became too keen. You faltered, losing your pattern of back and forth motions; the wet humping you were doing had made you come, and you needed him to help you. You looked at him with pleading eyes, and he moaned with you, grabbing your hips and forcing you down, pressed tighter than you’d ever been, making you fuck his quad roughly, leaving no room for sensitivity.

As he was helping you, moving your body on top of his, he started to come. You shielded it from shooting from the tip with your palm, rubbing it into his swollen head, making him clench his teeth from the overwhelming feeling you created. He kept pushing and pulling you, back and forth until you were nearly crying from the onslaught.

You sat up, and you swung your leg back over the console to survey the damage. There was a huge diamond-shaped stain where you’d ridden him, and he was obsessed with it. He traced it with his finger, rubbing across it, putting his palm over it and pressing it into his skin through the canvas.

“So wet for me,” he smiled up at you, “Call in sick.”

“John, no,” you scolded him, “we can’t just take off work whenever you want to fuck me.”

“Either you call in, or I’ll do it for you. But,” his expression darkened, “Let me be bloody fucking clear. I am going to fuck you today. Right now. One way or another.”

You moaned, smiling, getting excited about his plans,

“Let me get my phone.”

#captain john price #captain price #john price #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty fanfic #captain price x reader #captain price x you #cod

[sky-is-the-limit]

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝒙

𝑴𝑾1/𝑴𝑾2 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

W: Female Reader

➳ Valeria Garza would make you paint her nails while sitting on her lap, one hand holding up a document and the other rubbing your clit torturously slow and if you were to mess up, she'd deny your orgasm until she was satisfied with the final result.

She would show her affections in front of her men on purpose, casually crushing her lips onto yours with passion, one hand holding your jaw firmly and the other one squeezing your ass knowing damn well everyone's watching.

Letting these men know that you are hers and hers only, that they could never have a woman like you because you belong to her.

➳ Rudy Parra would call you 'mama' from the get-go as an innocent nickname in casual conversations until the thought of getting you pregnant creeped into his head.

He then started calling you that while thrusting into you bare, the thought of painting your walls white, watching it spill out everywhere while you beg him to breed you, sends him over the edge every time.

➳ Simon 'Ghost' Riley would never admit it out loud, but he developed a nasty habit of watching you pleasure yourself to the thought of him.

He walked in on you once, the scene before him obscene as your naked body was in full display on your bed, head pressed against the pillow with wet, messy hair stuck on your forehead, your fingers rubbing your clit in circles while his name repeatedly left as desperate whimpers from your mouth.

There was something about watching you in full view, all alone begging for his touch, watching you dig your nails in the soft skin of your breasts from the stimulation, unaware that he was only a few meters away with his erected length in his hand, mirroring your pace.

➳ Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick would be a man of habit, his sacred gun cleaning ritual being one of them. Neediness made you walk in multiple times in the armory, interrupting this special process to steal his attention and make his blood rise with annoyance.

And so he thought of teaching you a lesson, using his half cleaned pistol to put pressure against your clit, rubbing it up and down then in circles on your throbbing core until you coated it with your glistening slick.

He then would command you to lick it clean, watch you with blown pupils, wrap your lips around it, and take it into your mouth as if it was an extended part of Kyle you so desperately wanted to cherish.

Needless to say, that you kept 'accidentally' interrupting him after that.

➳ Phillip Graves would "allow" you to think that you have control, only for him to take it away and watch you struggle to get it back.

He would promise you that he'd let you ride him, tie him up, blindfold him etc and then when the moment would come, not even 5 minutes in, he'd flip you around, press your back hard against the mattress with your hands pinned over your head and thrust in you without warning.

He'd mock you about it. How cute it was to think that you could ever have the upper hand, your 'disappointed' yet surprised expression fueling his arrogance and promising you a long night of reminding you who's in charge.

Oh, and if he was in restraints? He'd use his experience in the field to come out of them and count to 5 before he catches you.

➳ Captain John Price would call you into his office, whether you worked there or not so he could have you on every surface available without locking the door.

The though of someone walking in to watch you get fucked merciless against his desk, while you ride him on his chair, against the bookshelf, sucking him off under his desk, would excite him.

The panic in your eyes whenever someone would knock on the door while you were on your knees, the wooden desk concealing your body so the person in front of it would have no idea that your pretty mouth was full with his length.

His composure would surprise you every time, calm and unphased, while talking to his private as your mouth was taking in every inch of him under the desk.

➳ Alex Keller would adore to watch you come undone because of his strength. He'd notice how quickly you'd lose focus whilst staring at his defined, muscular arms through his tee, naked out of the shower, in his military uniform.. and so he'd use it as an advantage.

Holding you up against the wall, your soaked cunt at eye level with his mouth as your thighs were on his shoulders. It would drive him insane how easily he could handle you, devouring your slick while you'd pull his hair from above.

Best believe that he wouldn't stop nor get tired until you begged him to fuck you.

➳ Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish would be obsessed with your tits, specifically in his mouth. This man would not shy away from it nor do it at a specific moment.

Watching a movie and cuddling? His hand would slowly start trailing up your shirt, cupping your breasts softly before turning his head up to look at you with those gorgeous eyes and ask if you could put them in his mouth while his head was resting against your chest.

Cowgirl would be his favourite position cause what a better combination than you bouncing up and down his cock while his hands grip on your hips tightly to guide you and his mouth sucking on your nipples? Nothing.

➳ Alejandro Vargas would be obsessed with you speaking Spanish. Whether you fluently speak it or started picking up words after dating him, this man would instantly get hard the second you speak two words to him.

It could be the most innocent thing, and his blood would start rushing boiling hot in his system, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you towards him like a magnet.

"Dime mas, cariña." He wouldn't even bother with finding the bedroom, clothes coming off hastily so he can push you against the nearest surface and pound into you merciless.

Don't think that he wouldn't notice how hot and bothered you'd get whenever his emotions would get the best of him and he'd start speaking only in Spanish. He'd use that as his weapon to get you naked from the first night you met.

➳ Kate Laswell would get off of you relying on her. She'd want to take care of you, your every desire and need, no matter how small or 'inappropriate' it was.

Just hearing your voice get all whiney, telling her that you are hungry while clinging onto her body, asking her if she can fix the broken light bulb because 'you can't' when in reality you'd just want to observe her toned arms and fingers get into work, handling everything with so much ease just like she does with you.

She saw you checking out lingerie online? They'd be at your door the next day. Your perfume is almost finished? You'd have two bottles on your nightstand the next morning. Your fridge was semi empty? She'd put in the biggest order to come at your door. Anything for her doll.

Especially when begging her to use her strap so she can fuck the stress out of you, asking if you can return the favour by eating her out like a madwoman to show her how thankful you are to have such a strong partner in your life.

She would never refuse her pretty girl anything.

#cod #cod headcanons #cod smut #call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod 141 #tf 141 #task force 141 #141 x reader #141 smut #los vaqueros #valeria garza #valeria garza smut #captain price #captain price smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick smut #gaz smut #soap smut #phillip graves smut #rudy parra #alejandro vargas #kate laswell #john soap mactavish #alex keller #mw3 #mw2

[romanticintheory]

on my knees BEGGING for more price and civilian!reader. i just read it and i can’t stop thinking about all the cute itty bitty interactions- their date, their convos, maybe him meeting her surprisingly scary dog (currently in love thinking about COD men and K9s yknow?).

Like if there’s not a single supporter for this, i’m dead in a ditch somewhere

what it's like dating john price as a civilian.

john price x gn!reader

part 1

more fluff, more domesticity, me being down bad

a/n: KSAHDASDKJ im so glad u love them as much as i do!! hope this does them justice for u <3

-

the date went really well, thankfully. he showed up at your place ready to pick you up with the bouquet of flowers he knew you deserved. call him old-fashioned, but he was adamant on making sure you didn't have to lift a finger for anything.

hell, he even asked you why you were standing out there in the cold by yourself, saying, "i could have come to your door so you didn't have to freeze all the way out here, sweetheart!"

he held out his hand for you to take as he guided you down the stairs, opened your side of the door for the car, and always walked with you on the side closest to the street.

the movie was a cute action comedy. it was even funnier with john because he'd sometimes pipe up at the action sequences talking about how unrealistic some scenes were.

when you told john that the main character's actor, a built, older-looking man, was used to be your celebrity crush in high school, he couldn't help but let a chuckle rumble in his throat and ask, "got a type then, love?"

"yeah, probably do," you admitted shamelessly.

the dinner was just as nice as the movie: he took you out to a nice restaurant and hung onto every word you spoke. likewise, you couldn't take your eyes off him whenever he told you stories about him and his boys.

he wouldn't tell you stories about him doing his job, mostly because he didn't want to disturb you with what he's had to do. he did, however, happily tell you stories about the ridiculous things he's seen his task force get up to.

"they sound like a handful," you said warmly, "you sure they're not your kids?"

"no, but they certainly sound like it," he leaned just a little bit closer to hear you better over the chatter of the restaurant.

"i get that. i've got a handful at home, too." you paused to take a sip of your drink. "a little puppy."

"really? what's its name?"

when he takes you back home, he wordlessly walks you back to your door.

"would you like to meet beau, john?" you ask, hand hovering over the door you unlocked.

he opens his mouth to speak but gets interrupted by the sound of scratching and a dog panting on the other side of the door.

"well, only if he's okay with meeting me."

when you open the door, john is surprised to see a full-grown rottweiler launching at him at full speed. for a second, he saw his life flashing before his eyes before he realized the wagging of beau's tail.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you call out immediately, "he's usually more polite around strangers. beau- beau get down!"

john only laughs at your panic and took your dog's friendliness as a sign to pet him. "'s alright, love. i trust you enough to know you wouldn't put me in harm's way."

he takes in beau's stature. from the looks of his larger-than-average size, he might be a guard dog for you. or maybe you just wanted company and decided to hone in on his scariness and bulk by adding that spiked collar.

"so, a puppy, huh?" he points outed humorously, locking eyes with you after realizing that your canine was, in fact, fully grown.

"hey, he's still a puppy to me!" you interject, kneeling down beside john's crouched figure to also show the rottweiler some affection.

"i see," he nods thoughtfully, turning his attention back to beau. "you're just as gorgeous as your owner, huh?"

your face is on fire again. "you flatter me, john."

"how does the saying go? it's not flattery if it's true?" he stands up much to the disappointment of beau and to take a step closer to you.

"you're too kind."

"jus' trying to treat you like how you deserve."

it's like he's trying to light you aflame on purpose. your embarrassment grows so much you have to cover the smile on your face with your hand. once your face has cooled down, you take a deep breath and let your hand fall down back to your side.

"thank you for tonight," you say quietly. "i had a really good time."

"glad to hear," he replies. "'m also happy to see beau likes me, too."

"well, we both have that in common, i guess."

"oh, who's doing the flattery, now?" john says playfully, his hands on his hips as you laugh softly at him.

"still you!" you insist.

"hm. maybe next time we can figure it out, yeah?" he proposes, a hopeful glint in his eye.

"next time? you already ready for a second date, price?"

oh, he was ready for more, but he didn't think you were ready to hear that.

"unless you're not," he tells you slowly, afraid of pressuring you into saying yes already.

sensing his worry, you reassure him with, "how could i not be?"

he relaxes at your admission and leans forward to give you a kiss on the cheek. "i've got your number. next week sound fine to you?"

"of course. whatever you like, soldier," you nodded, the lingering feeling of his lips on your cheek leaving a tingling sensation. if you were just a bit more confident, you would have kissed him then and there.

"i'll see you then, love."

he bends down to give beau a well-deserved goodbye pet before turning to leave, looking you in the eyes one last time before leaving for home.

#call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price imagine #john price x you #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod x you #rarawrites #call of duty fanfic #john price fanfic #captain john price imagine

[pretty--in--purple]

Rating the mommy issues of TLT characters in alphabetical order

contains spoilers technically

Abigail: can't have kids but clearly maternal as fuck. call her mother. 2/10

Aiglamene: she has inverse mommy issues - daughter issues. -10/10

Augustine: full offense but he has freudian vibes. fuck-hate relationship w mercymorn who is has the energy of a neglectful mother. 7/10

Camilla: clearly raised by incredibly competent parents - unclear if she had a mother. Even if she did her real issues are codependency with Palamedes. 0/10

Corona: unconfirmed but a girl like that did NOT experience maternal affection growing up. 5/10

Crux: yknow what. nobody whose mother held them enough is Like That. 10/10

Dulcinea: idk if she had a mother, but i get 'raised by gay dad(s)' vibes from her. possibly the best adjusted character of all 0/10

G1deon: man is obsessed with doing what God wants EXCEPT when it's not to fuck a terrorist. four parts people pleaser one part horny 5/10

Gideon: mum only birthed her to blow her up, died, then used her afterlife to terrorise Gideon’s not-quite-girlfriend; gave her a desperate desire for external validation and attention, especially from evil cougars. 11/10

Harrow: mum committed genocide to conceive her, never smiled at her, attempted to murder-suicide her. 12/10

Ianthe: unclear. daddy issues but no mention of mother afaik - might not even have one. no indication of mommy issues in her romantic life bc she didn’t attempt to fuck mercymorn. HOWEVER she’s such a freak she can’t possibly have had a positive female role model. 3/10

Isaac: born in a vat but had abigail as a maternal figure so 5/10

Jeannemary: same as isaac but she's definitely sapphic so bump that to 6/10

John: literally reformed the Earth in the image of his mum’s old Hollywood hair Barbie. Also, look at him. 100/10

Judith: 9/10 no questions

Magnus: so chill but also he has the vibes of someone into mommydom shit. he's sucked abigail's tits for SURE 3/10

Marta: idk i think she has 'estranged from family' vibes. 4/10

Mercymorn: her mother might have been good but she can't remember her, so 5/10

Naberius: he kissed his mother on the mouth DAILY and you know it. 10/10

Ortus: mostly daddy issues but you saw his mother. 8/10

Palamedes: I haven’t read Doctor Sex but I have his mommy issues on good authority. I hate to say it but camilla is his mommy. 6/10

Pyrrha: unknown. Loves a milf but then who doesn’t. 1/10

Wake: giver of mommy issues. she's the mommy that's the issue. unrateable

[ETA: @everyone making fun of me for saying he sucks tits like it's something special im SORRY i didn't say magnus sits on abigails lap and pretends to breastfeed but i thought it would be GROSS i guess i forgot what this fandom is. ily all be home for dinner]

#tlt #nona the ninth #the locked tomb #sky (the blogger) originals #gideon the ninth #alecto the ninth #harrow the ninth #gtn #atn #ntn #htn #augustine the first #pyrrha dve #palamedes sextus #awake remembrance of these valiant dead #ortus nigenad #harrowhark nonagesimus #gideon nav #aiglamene #camilla hect #jeannemary chatur #isaac tettares #magnus quinn #ianthe naberius #ianthe tridentarius #coronabeth tridentarius #naberius tern #abigail pent #mercymorn the first #gideon the first

[mactavishwritings]

Hello! I have a request for poly!141 + Keegan maybe where their wife(if you’re okay with fem!reader) is pregnant and she comes to base with food for them but she can’t get past the gates bc they won’t let her past and she calls price and they all come out pissed before bringing the reader inside and they eat together. And maybe the reader gives them all a little note of the baby’s gender(u can pick) just a lot of fluff.♥️

I'm so mad. i started this request earlier today, but my work redid the wifi so i lost my draft :( oh well

so i took this and ran w it omg

You were growing more and more frustrated, a pounding headache taking the forefront of your mind. The soldier who was standing guard, minding the gate, refused to scan your pass. The main issue was that your visitor pass was expired. You had already renewed it and were just waiting for the new one to come in the mail. John assured you that you could still use the old one, that all they had to do was scan the old one and it'll prompt for the new, updated pass.

The soldier refused to even listen to you, just telling you to get off the base. You were damn near about to stomp your foot like a child, feeling completely helpless. "Just humor me and scan the damn pass!" You shoved your pass towards the man, who took a step back from you. You were completely done. You had planned on going on base to reveal the gender to your boys. You just wanted to get in and to them. You angrily grabbed your phone and the soldier sighed. "Jesus I knew pregnancy affected a woman's emotions, but I didn't know it would affect her intelligence!"

Your eye twitched and just smiled tightly at the man. "Just give me one moment." You nodded as you immediately dialed John. "Hey baby, what's up?" You could hear the boys in the background and it helped your mood a bit. "My darling. Can you do me a favor and come sponsor me? They won't let me on." You heard him chuckle to himself and it sat weird with you. "What do you mean? Just have them scan your pass. The system will say you're valid." John clearly had a smile on his face and didn't understand what the issue was. "That's what I thought, however, this soldier guarding the gate said that wasn't possible. But as this soldier said, pregnancy affects a woman's intelligence so what do I know?" The laughter in the background immediately went silent and you just heard breathing. "Stay there. We're coming."

You waited for John, smiling at the soldier, who was on the verge of kicking you off base completely. You saw John's black car roll up at a speed that even made you nervous. You shifted in your seat as you watched John step out of the now parked car and all the other three boys stepped out, but stayed by John's car. John calmly walked towards the gate and the soldier immediately stood at attention, saluting John. He nodded at the man before snatching the scanner out of his hand. "Watch this, ya fuckin' dumbass," John stated before holding his hand out for your pass. You happily handed it over and John scanned it himself. The gun beeped for a moment before showing a green check mark. You were clear to enter the base.

After you smiled sweetly as the soldier mumbled an apology, you followed John's car as the boys drove back to their barracks. The base was huge, you could easily see yourself getting lost if not for the boys in front of you. You pulled into the parking spot reserved for expecting mothers and Simon was quick to run over to help you out of the car. "Let's get you in mama." Simon kissed your head and Johnny pulled the cake from your backseat.

"You make this yourself, Chridhe?" Johnny hummed, coming to kiss your hand before rushing inside as Kyle held the door open for all of you. John entered after you and Simon and they all brought you down to their rec room. You sighed, finally happy to be able to sit down. "That idiot up front was a dick." You mumbled and groaned, rubbing your head. "Said some dumbass shit." You rolled your eyes and sat forward looking up toward the boys.

"You got through it, babe." Kyle placed a kiss on your forehead and smiled. "I'm ready to know what we're having." All the boys nodded in agreement and you immediately got excited. "Oh yeah! Let's cut into this cake." You grabbed a knife and told the boys to close their eyes. You cut them all slices and placed a piece in front of them. "Okay ready? Open."

You had tears in your eyes as the boys looked down at the cake to expose the blue filling inside. Johnny and Kyle both jumped up with joy and John laughed loudly. Simon reached out to hold your hand tightly as Johnny and Kyle both wrapped you up in their arms.

"I'm so happy!" You squealed, tears rolling down your face. "Thank you so much, woman." John grabbed the sides of your face and kissed your nose lightly.

You felt completely content, ready to share this moment for the rest of your life with these men.

#ask #winter speaks #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #poly!141 x reader #poly cod x reader #cod mw2 x reader #ghost #soap #price #gaz #cod fluff #call of duty x reader #cod x you #cod x reader

[brewed-pangolin]

"Yer starin' again, love."

Soap's smooth, baritone voice called to you in the vastness of your enraptured stare. Subtle memories of a smile returned into the lines of your lips, pulling yourself back into the realm of existence with a languid whisper rolling off your tongue.

"Sorry, John. Still getting used to them."

"Aye. Take it ya like 'em then?"

Your cheeks burned with the unending affection for the man you had grown to love. Gaze lingering on the newly adorned carbon fiber rims surrounding his eyes, drawing ever more attention to the cerulean stare within.

"Yeah. I like 'em."

"Hm. Still getting used to 'em m'self, lass." He muttered, repositioning the frames on the bridge of his nose to regain focus on the writing in his hand.

"Perhaps you need better reading material," you interjected with a cracked smile.

His blue eyes rolled above the black rim like a current over a pebbled stream. His expression accentuated by a prominently arched brow as he laid the morning paper aside for something much more appealing.

"And what would you have in mind, love? Enlighten me."

You bit the inside of your mouth to keep the smart comment at bay. Preferring a more elusive method of enticing him rather than the usual gritty temperament.

"I think you know what I mean, John."

He shook his head with a heavy brow, a drawn out sigh parting through his lips as his fingers grasped at the arm of his glasses.

"Yer 'opless, lass. Y'know that?"

You raised a hand to halt him mid removal.

"No. Keep them on."

Soap paused. His eyes narrowed, brimming with glorious intent with a curl to his lips that sent a shockwave straight to your core.

"A'right. I'll keep 'em on. But if ya break 'em with them thighs, I'm gonnae break yer back."

"Promise?"

His eyes darkened like an incoming storm within the black, polished frames, a distant rumble echoing deep in his chest as you gingerly hiked up your night gown.

"Heid yer weesht"

Rising from his chair to his full stature, a towering mogul of a man as he marched, knelt down, and prepared to please his most adoring fan.

"Is this gonna become an'ther fetish, lass?"

"Don't know yet. Didn't think I had a thing for an old man in glasses until now."

"Old?"

You had to refrain from letting out a laugh as his growing scowl scolded you. Removing it from his features with the sight of your glistening cunt while he brought himself between the valley of your thighs.

"Do yerself a favor an' keep that smart mouth shut fer five minutes, an' let this old man take care a'ya."

Captain MacTavish Masterlist

#soap squad™️ #the brainrot of Captain MacTavish #captain mactavish in glasses is doing things to me #captain soap mactavish #captain mactavish #og soap #captain mactavish x you #captain mactavish x f!reader #soap x you #soap x f!reader

[thisfanisgonesorry]

grand finale — the 141

kinktober day 31: gangbang (w/ price, gaz, soap, ghost, alej + rudy)

pt 1 // wc: 10,067 :P sorry for dying

tags: smut, gangbang, light fee use, light intox, overstimulation, lots of cum obvi;; a little ooc but theyre thinking w their dicks. y/n has the best pussy in the world (canon)

♡

Captain Price was beyond pissed; he’d done his ‘display of affection’ a few weeks ago, and every few days since, the other men got a little more bold in their actions. What started as a few short sentences of teasing flirtatiousness, ended up in grabbing hands and genuine neglect for Price.

He was well aware of the outcome that was likely to happen, and he understood the consequences and risks of letting his friends watch him fuck his girl, but he was okay with that. He was okay with his friends stroking their dicks to her and to what he’d let them see because he thought he ingrained it into their heads that she was his girl, until that message was no longer the part they paid attention to.

It all clicked into place when he saw Mactavish with his hand wrapped around my waist. So he called to action, inviting them over for drinks again and they all thought it was harmless, snickering to themselves and getting tipsy off of John’s fine bourbon. He was encouraging them to drink up, making them soft and pliable, ‘easy to manipulate’ in his brisk words.

All was well until I plopped down on the coffee table in front of them, wearing just a skirt and a lace bra.

They all groaned inwardly, and John scowled slightly. “Don’t react like that.” He warned as he toyed with my hair, pushing it around, out of my face and adjusting it, making sure I looked as pretty as I could.

They quickly started pointing fingers, biting at whose fault it was that they got caught, realising that he’d suckered them into a deal of getting them drunk just to reprimand and punish them. Meanwhile, John’s strong hands spread my thighs apart, revealing the sticky and glistening pussy to them, causing them to die down from their rowdy argument.

“You’re allowed to touch her.” He spoke with a dismissive shrug as if the intentions for this one were obvious. It was like locking a lamb with a pack of wolves, their hands immediately reaching forward to touch what they could.

He walked around the coffee table again, this time covered with a plush blanket which the boys seemed to ignore or chalk up to as some weird table cover, he took perch in front of my legs, kneeling and pressing a kiss on my neck.

“Wanna tell ‘em, or see how long it takes?”

“Mhm.. I wanna see.”

He gave a small chuckle, pressing more kisses on the expanse of my neck. “Cruel baby.” He muttered to himself, his hands fumbling slightly with his belt. “You’re all prepped up, ain’t you, princess? Tell ‘em.”

“Fucked myself.” I mumbled, though he beckoned more. “Liked being watched.”

“She liked it a whole lot.” He slid in slowly, letting his words linger in the air as a breathy whine escaped me. “Almost too much but I ‘aven’t got anythin’ to worry about, right, lads?” The sarcasm dripped off his tongue and was met by an awkward silence as they endured this again.

I laid back on the table, resting on my elbows as he started thrusting at a gracious pace, hands on my hips as he took control, easily gliding in and out from the pre-worked slickness and they all peered over his shoulders, getting a better view than they did previously. They sipped their bourbon calmly while their thoughts ran wild.

“I said you’re allowed to touch her.” He cursed, they knew he didn’t like repeating himself, so they jerked to attention, forming a circle around me while they started touching what they could. 

Simon’s hands took firm place on my chest, while the others groped and grabbed at my ass and thighs. They tried fighting Simon’s greedy hands for the tiniest modicum of space but his hands were too large for them to win. Alejandro’s hands tried to grab at my legs, though the lack of space due to the others caused him to move upwards, cupping my face and neck, moving the hair out of my face as it began to dampen up from sweat.

“That’s it, baby girl, all worked up f’me, ey?”

He was met with a trail of moans, whines and groans (not all of which were from me); Price growled at the way I gushed and twitched around him at the actions of the other men, the wet sounds filled the room and he was selfishly working himself close to finish.

“Please.” I spoke under my breath, squirming against him with want. “God, not enough, need more.”

His large fingers started rubbing on my clit when he realised the other men weren’t going to, whether out of respect or fear was up for interpretation but he simply let it linger.

“So god damn needy, gonna cum on my cock, yeah?” His words stayed harsh, trying to drive me close to orgasm. This was the farthest thing from punishment, and John knew that, so he didn’t plan on treating it like one.

I whined, grabbing hold of the blanket and his arm, digging my fingernails into the flesh of his wrist as he continued to fuck into me smoothly. His actions, while selfish, were exactly how I needed him, and it seemed he knew that as well. 

“Johnny—”

His dick twitched inside me. “Yeah, princess, keep moaning for me. Y’don’t even gotta talk, baby, just make those pretty noises, you know what it does to me. Look what’s it doin’ to the lads.” He beckoned on, his hands glued to my hips and clit respectively, knowing the stimulation the other few men were giving me would be more than enough to drive me closer and closer, he could get away with being just a little more selfish, just this once.

Naturally, he felt aggressive, he felt the need to claim up my insides, have his cum leak out of me while one of the others eats me out, tasting his spend while they desperately try to ignore it. He needed to be rough, in the back of his mind, he had to show his display of strength to them, to show them not to cross him again.

This was an act of kindness — and they needed to act like it.

“Shit, ‘m close.” I choked out, my hips bucking against him.

“Yeah?” He laughed. “You like it way more when they’re touching you, is that it, princess?”

I nodded weakly, and his actions didn’t falter in the slightest. He clenched his jaw with his eyes glazing over slightly while he leant over me, pushing his hips as deep as they could go for the final stretch.

“Cum on my cock, princess, show me how good you feel. Cry out f’me, make some noise.” He purred, his head dipping close to mine. “Show the boys. Put on a show for us, baby, I know you like that.”

My head fell back, brushing helplessly against the plush blanket, Alejandro’s sweet hands cradling my head. He carefully watched my body with gritted teeth and a tense jaw, though it didn’t affect the soft grip he held me in.

As I snapped from all the contact on my body, I clenched down around him, hearing an ‘oh god’ fall from his lips. His groans stuttered slightly, his impending orgasm finally crashing him when my walls started spasming around him, loud cries falling from my mouth as I grabbed at him, trying to ground myself through the climax.

“That’s it, that’s it.” He cooed as his dick twitched, his hot cum hitting my walls and he idly kept thrusting, trying to push it into my cervix. My vision spotted, everything going white-hot, and I was sure to put on a special show just for his men.

He eventually pulled out, watching it leak out of the messy hole and onto the softness below it as I went limp once again on the table.

He huffed in amusement, glancing over my relaxed body. He rolled his shoulders as he fiddled with his pants, adjusting them to professionalism and sitting back down on the couch. The men surrounding him paused their movements, hesitantly pulling away from me.

Alejandro kept his soft gaze fixated on me, holding the back of my head and running his fingers through my hair, making sure to push the sweat drenched strands out of my face, keeping me as pretty and presentable as he could.

John completely relaxed, leaning and spreading his arms out to cover the entire back of the couch, spreading his legs slightly as he watched the men with a quirked eyebrow, he tilted his head slightly, and he chuckled lowly once again.

“Don’t all go at once.” He joked. The room stayed silent, so after a few seconds, he continued. “Well? ‘s someone gonna go first? Take turns?” He gestured loosely with a turn of the wrist, looking like the cat who got the cream.

He was met with another silence, which he again filled quickly. “I said you could touch her?” He reminded the men, causing things to click into place. “Go on, keep her company? Treat her real nice. Don't she deserve it?” He spoke sweetly with an edge of condescension.

Mactavish gave a side eye glance at the domineering Captain, tilting his head and trying to smooth the venom that threatened to spit when he talked. “What’s the catch?”

“Don’t cum inside her.” He shrugged. “Otherwise do whatever you want. As long as she likes it.” 

“Don’t cum inside her?” He repeated it back like he didn’t believe it, like there was some sort of fine-print in those words, and agreeing to it would damn his soul to suicide runs every morning for the next 3 months.

“That’s f’me only, yeah? Surely you understand?” The ice in his whiskey clinked together as he sipped it slowly, his eyes bore into Johnny, almost like a dare.

The duos all hesitated for their own respective reasons, though Kyle knew Price. He stood up, and took place where John was and I propped myself back up on my elbows, his breath catching at the lust-filled glazed-over look that returned his gaze.

“What? No one else ‘s gonna do it.” He spoke to the men’s stalkerish gazes, using it as an excuse to momentarily avoid my eye contact.

“Thatt’a boy.” He tilted his head downwards in an approving nod when Garrick glanced over his shoulder, they shared a moment of understanding eye contact.

He moved the position around enough where I was still lying comfortably, though enough where Price could relax and get a decent view without moving around. Why bite the hand that feeds? He thinks to himself, trying to make it so John could hover over his actions, and control his every move without much of having to move his neck in the slightest.

Kyle knew as well as anyone, that one wrong move on John’s girl and he’d be grabbed by the scruff of the neck and dragged to god-knows-where. While Mactavish theorised and over-analysed the subtext of those words, he simply knew what they meant. ‘Don’t make her unhappy’; so he took those words to heart.

He unbuckled his belt, feeling the peering eyes swallow in his every movement. One hand fiddled with his pants and worked on removing them, while the other ran up the smooth skin of my stomach, giving a soft squeeze to my breast with a low groan.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, I’m okay, Kyle.” I nodded, and he simply nodded back, his words catching in his throat.

There was an itching paranoia to not fuck it up, he stroked himself slowly as his mind lingered on what he was going to do. He knew what he wanted to do, but this wasn’t his girl, there was no way he could do those sorts of things in front of her boyfriend and not end up on some sort of personal hit-list. 

His hand reached for my thigh, lifting it up slightly to spread my legs. He watched John’s cum ooze out of me, and he slid in with a soft groan. “Jesus—” He hissed, hooking the curve of my knee into the curve of his elbow as he sank down to the hilt. He took a moment to regain his composure when I was still twitching around him so he could feel the occasional clench while he tried desperately to keep himself in control.

I arched my back into him, moaning softly and grabbing onto the sheets. John had given me instructions to simply lie there and take it, only speak up when something was wrong. It wasn’t my job to do anything that would get them off faster besides oft conversation. They simply had to make me feel good while working themselves to finish — this was about me.

Kyle began to mimic the thrusting that Price had previously done, and he’d gotten it down to perfection, though there was a slight awkwardness as he shuffled around on his knees.

The slickness swallowed him perfectly, and his head dropped forward, going completely limp. “Fuck, that’s good.” I whined out.

“Yeah?” My words were met back with a raspy plea of approval. “Jus’ tryna treat you right, doll.”

John interjected, noticing the pattern of Kyle fucking into me the same way he was prior. “Are you gonna fuck her or what?” He spoke dryly.

“What?”

“You’re doing what I was doing. Fuck her like how you want to fuck her.”

“Don’t say that.” Garrick gritted his teeth, his movements faltering. “How you fuck her is good f’her, gets ‘er off.” He tried to defend his actions, but while it was partly that, it did have a lot to do with not stepping on his best friend’s toes.

“She can take it.”

“God damn.” He groaned. “Lay back, sweet thing, let me—”

I leant back, and Kyle hovered over me completely, pushing my thigh to go over his shoulder. His hands reached my hips and his head dipped between my chest, staying there for a moment as he thrust at his own pace. It was slow, but deep and harsh.

“You gonna give him a hand?” John spoke up again, swirling his glass to let the clink of ice fill the air. “I didn’t say you couldn’t keep touching her. Just stay out of each other’s way, no fighting.”

They hesitated, though Soap greedily started grabbing at the thigh that wasn’t on Garrick’s shoulder; The other two were unsure if they wanted to touch me when his body was directly pressed onto mine.

Alejandro was not dissuaded, however. “Head up.” He whispered, I lifted myself up slightly and his hands quickly cupped my scalp again, holding me sweetly in place to make sure I didn’t bang my head. He sat quietly, but he assigned himself to the role of making sure I was okay, he knew the wood table was harsh, and a concussion would be the last thing he wanted, and maybe that was the tiniest bit for selfish reasons but he rationalised it by saying he was being kind.

His fingers delicately ran through my hair, brushing it slightly, and he kept pushing it out of my face. He was deliberate, and very gentle and kind with his actions.

Kyle’s head dipped to press kisses onto my neck, licking stripes as he restrained the urge to sink his teeth in. “God, this pussy is so fucking good.” He let out a whine, his hips speeding up slightly. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even think I deserve it.”

His words rambled on as the squelching noise increased in volume, and his eyes were practically rolling back into his skull the longer that he was buried inside of me. He sunk his teeth into my neck, then licked the teeth marks.

“Better than you imagined, huh?” Price joked, earning a mindless nod in response as my high pitched moans filled the air. “Tell the boys how she feels.”

“Like fuckin’ heaven.” He started, tripping over his words slightly. “Still twitchin’ ‘round me. So fuckin’ warm, so fuckin’ wet, so god damn fuckin’ tight.”

John let out an amused hum, idly tapping his finger on the side of his glass as he sipped, watching the way Kyle lost himself inside of me. He tilted his head with a smirk, noticing one key detail that Garrick was too pussy-drunk to realise, and he wanted to see how long it took for him to notice.

He continued his drunk ramblings. “Fuck, shouldn’t be allowed to bury my cock into this perfect cunt, too fuckin’ good for me.” He praised, letting the words go straight to my core, and he groaned when he felt me clench around him.

“Gaz.” John said sternly, interjecting to fix the aforementioned issue.

His brain was barely processing anything from the outside world. “Huh?” He responded, not turning to meet his gaze, instead just trying to bite down on my flesh again, needing to leave more marks. Not even to claim, but to keep his mouth busy from the filthy sounds that threatened to escape. Not in front of the lads, he thought to himself.

“Rub her clit, don’t be selfish.”

“Fuck, ‘m sorry, sweetheart.” He tensed up, realising his mistake and dipping his fingers between our bodies. “Can’t think straight, y’feel so good.”

My hands clung to his back as I nodded, my head was limp in Alejandro’s hands as Kyle started running sweet, lazy circles between my legs, hoping it was enough paired with his deep thrusts. His mouth continued to bite and suck at the skin he had access to.

His other hand fiddled with the hemming of the skirt, his brain wracked for anything to say. “God, you’re fuckin’ me stupid.” He laughed softly, knowing it was the only words lingering on the forefront of his mind.

“Ky, please—” I whined and it dragged his attention to my face, with a slight unease of panic, he scanned it for any sign of discomfort. 

“What is it, doll?” He crooned sweetly, cutting me off slightly, inwardly begging that nothing is wrong and it was just a simple request and not something that’d have him dragged out of here before he could cum, he loathed the idea of being pulled out and having to go back to his quarters and stroke himself off to the mere fleeting memory of how good I felt.

He felt like his prayers were answered when I nodded in time to his thrust. “Need more, please.” He let out a sigh of relief, though it was hard to distinguish from his regular heavy breathing.

“If I give you more, you’ll be a sweet thing and cum on my cock, yeah?”

“Mhm, yeah!” I pleaded helplessly, squirming beneath his touch. He took note of the way my hips shuffled around against his lap, and he teetered on his knees slightly to ease the tension.

“I know what you need.” He tried to croon, though his voice was rasping and broke between groans. He tried to move our hips around.

“Please, give it to me, please—”

“God, where the fuck is it?” He growled, he pushed my knee to touch my shoulder, I let out a short whine and his face scrunched up at my desperate clenching. “Where is it, sweet thing? C’mon, help me out.”

Price sighed, pitying my incessant whining. He hovered over Kyle’s back, placing one hand on his spine and the other on his hip. “Move down.” He mumbled, watching him shift down. “Up a bit.” He continued throwing slight directions at him until, eventually—

“Oh, fuck!” I cried out as his deep slow thrusts pushed into the spongy spot he was looking for.

“Fuck, there it is.” He almost sobbed. “There you go, doll, fuck.”

John let out a content hum, slumping back on the couch and crossing his leg. He rested his arm on his knee, another slow sip, his eyes lingered on the view in front of him, his dick twitching back to life softly, although he didn’t feed into it.

“Thank you, John.” He babbled as an afterthought as he repeatedly hit the squishy gspot that caused the front of his pants to get damp. “Close, ain’t you, sweetheart?”

“So close, Ky, please, wanna cum.”

“Right with you, doll.” He praised softly, and I instinctively wrapped my leg around his waist, causing a hiss to escape his throat. “Soap, hold her fuckin’ leg down.” He barked slightly, knowing that the slight amount of desire to keep him inside would be enough for him to not leave.

Mactavish stopped his groping and quickly abetted Kyle’s sudden demand, and Johnny seemed to think that following the rules, every tiny command; it would be his ticket out of jail metaphorically and, with how Price treats him, literally. 

“God, wanna cum inside so bad.” He whined, his orgasm impending as I squeezed him tightly. “Wanna bury m’cock in and never leave.”

His hips kept faltering as he struggled to keep up his designated pace. “Don’t stop! Please, so close, Kyle, ‘m gonna—”

“I know, sweet thing, ‘m sorry. Just.. Fuck, how does John do it? I’d just live here if I could.” His words flooded my thoughts and my fingernails dug desperately into his shirt, leaving moon shaped indents on his shoulder blades.

“I struggle.” John shrugged. “You better not cum before she does. Forgot to mention that, thought it was a given. You gotta make her cum.” His grin was cocky as his words crawled into every crevice of Kyle’s brain, as well as the others.

“I know.” He growled. “‘M fuckin’ tryin’, Price.”

His head dipped once again, pressing more kisses onto the soft expanse of my neck, sucking and biting softly with his own desperate need. His hands doubled their speeds on my clit as he continued to struggle with keeping his pace set. 

“Doll, I know you’re so close, you wanna cum so fuckin’ bad.” He choked out. “Need t’feel you cum, please—” His words stopped suddenly, his mind going black and his eyes rolling back. 

I mindlessly chanted his name, feeling it wash over me. He let out a choked groan, feeling me squeeze down on him. “C’mon, ride it out.” He spoke sweetly, trying to hold himself back until my orgasm was completely over.

He noticed that my body went slack, my tight grip against his shoulders let go of his shirt, and he quickly slipped out while he still could. He moved my leg back down and held my skirt up while he jerked himself to completion, his words coming out as a slurred hiss.

“Such a pretty pussy, god damn, gonna cum.” He continued rambling. “Gonna cum all over this pretty cunt. You want that?”

“Please.” I pleaded, throwing my head back further into Alejandro’s hands, earning a quiet coo from him. 

His hands were holding the skirt up while eyeing up the leaky hole. Watching the arousal and what was left of John’s cum just seeped out of it, and the wetness coating his dick as he stroked himself to completion, the imagery itself making his mind run in circles.

“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded blankly before cursing under his breath again. “Shit, shit, shit.” He choked out, going over the edge and spilling warm white ropes that covered the ‘perfect pussy.’

His cum covered the mons pubis and dribbled down between the folds, sticking to the slick skin beautifully. If he didn’t know any better, he’d’ve stared for at least an hour at the scene, though he’d quickly rejoined earth with a sigh, tucking himself back into his pants and swiftly moving out of the way for whoever wanted to go next.

Mactavish pushed past Garrick quickly, wanting to get his turn in before Price changed his mind and sent him to the bench again. He didn’t even take a second glance at the mixture of cum that covered me, uncaring for what he was about to be using as lube.

Kyle slumped down onto the couch next to Price so he could catch his breath, and smiled in amusement at the other man’s eagerness. “Good fuckin’ pussy.” He muttered to John with a lopsided grin more-so directed at him.

Mactavish tugged at the skirt with greedy hands, the soft frilly fabric feeling like a barrier when he rubbed it between his calloused fingers. “Get it off.” He mumbled to himself, knowing he was going to do it anyway; his hands worked to peel it off my body, careful enough to not get cum-stains on the cute fabric. Rodolfo gave him a hand, pulling the elastic wide enough that it could be pulled past my thighs without smearing any filth onto it.

His calloused fingers quickly dipped lower, meeting the wet entrance and he slid two into the warmth. His eyes widened slightly at the feel, and he simply felt around, his fingertips brushing against the walls.

“She can take anythin’, right?” Johnny turned to the smug faced Captain. “Nothin’ ‘s off the table?” 

He earned nothing but a coy shrug in response, he let out a short laugh, removing his fingers, seeing them coated with the mixture of cum. His fingers dipped to collect some of Kyles and brought his hand to my mouth. “Open wide, bonnie.” He cooed sweetly.

I opened my mouth lazily, letting him push his fingers into the wetness. I moaned around the digits, swirling my tongue around.

“That’s a good girl.” He praised, with a tinge of jealousy hanging off the words.

He removed his clean fingers, and his hands tightly gripped onto my waist. “Bet you’re gonna think about this for weeks, how our big ‘n’ mean Cap’n got a group of scary ‘n’ strong soldiers to treat you like a li’l lady, yeah? Ain’t that right, hen? He’s got a bunch of pussy drunk fools treatin’ you like you’re heaven on earth.”

“I am.” I mumbled back as he rubbed the head of his cock up and down the wet slit awkwardly, holding my hips enough where Garrick’s cum wouldn’t smear off, though they stuck to between my thighs and he knew that Kyle’s cum would stain the front of his pants. It riled him up, and they all silently yet mutually agreed that they wanted to see the cumdump at the end.

“Yeah, ‘course you are.” He smiled slightly. “How y’want me to fuck you?”

“Hard, Johnny.” I squirmed at the way he fucked the slit. The entire time, he had a grin plastered on his face, especially while pushing himself in slowly, closing his eyes. His eyes were half-lidded and he took a handful of tit, bullying his way into the slick space.

“Hard? You wanna ask nicer?” 

“Please, please, Johnny, please, fuck me hard.” I pleaded as I kept moving around, trying to move my hips against his for friction but I was held in place with the firmness of his grip on my waist.

“You’re such a perfect girl.” He spoke, dragging himself all the way out before slamming back in, earning himself a choked cry. “Did Price have to teach you how to beg that good?”

I shook my head hesitantly, and he dragged himself out again, holding it there while he waited for a verbal response. “Mhmhm, no.” I struggled out, earning a murmured ‘liar’ from John.

He tilted his head, pushing back in and repeating the actions, knocking the air out of my lungs. I nodded in time to his thrusts, my eyes unfocused as his movements were harsh, though eventually, he stopped dragging himself out so far but that didn’t mean he relented on the harsh slaps that filled the gaps between my moans.

His hand began rubbing tight circles on my clit. “So sensitive.” He spoke coolly, Garrick’s cum sticking to his palm as he moved without a care for it. His movements were steady, quick and deliberate.

Thin strings of a mixture of cum connected our body, sticking to his pubic bone. His free, clean hand reached up and he ran his fingers through the shaggy mohawk, repeating the motion and slightly gripping onto the hair to hold it out of place as he kept fucking me closer to the edge. It was an odd quirk, but it seemed like he was barely aware that he was doing it besides the way his eyebrows knitted together when he tugged on his own hair by his brain confusing the movements between each hand. 

The hand on my clit kept faltering for the same reason, he let out a low groan as he felt me clench around him. “Don’t cum.” He grunted. “Don’t— Don’t you dare.” The way he spoke was clear with the intent that it was a command, making my head spin.

I tried to balance my breathing, my hand wrapping over my mouth as Ale soothingly stroked my hair, brushing the sweat out of my face again. “Oh, fuck—“ I choked out. “Slow down—“

“He said you can take anything, bonnie, what’s the matter?” He spoke dismissively.

“It’s too much!”

“I don’t fuckin’ care.” He hissed, as he shuffled around, groaning at the slight discomfort from kneeling. Breathy moans left his throat at the pleasure, but the slight grunts and groans were from his knees brushing against the hardwood floor.

“Is someone’s knee acting up?” Price teased.

“Shut the fuck up.” John barked back.

His eyes glazed over slightly when he noticed that I was slowing my breathing to hold off the impending orgasm, his hand snaked up and wrapped tightly around my throat, squeezing enough to falter my composure, causing my smooth breathing to fall to disarray.

“Chugged to those panties, yeah? Still got ‘em.” He confessed, sounding utterly and truly debauched. The words sounded filthy coming from his mouth, and his accent didn’t help. “I’m sure John wants ‘em back but he can have it over m’dead body.” 

“Please—” I cried out, clenching around him both from his words and the pressure from between my legs. “Can’t..”

“You wanna cum? You know what to do.”

“God, please, please, let me cum, please—“ I babbled, repeating the same few words over and over, sounding pitiful as he continued to take what he wanted. Tears pricked my eyes, oversensitive and desperate to cum. “Johnny, please.”

“How can I say no when you sound so pretty like that?” He grunted. “Go on, cum on my cock, you greedy—”

“Watch it.” Price interjected quickly.

Johnny let out a low growl, picking up the pace a little more. He swallowed his thoughts, his mind going blank as he chased his orgasm. “Just cum for me, y/n, clench around me.” His accent was thick and aggressive with need, I panted under him as he tried to keep his movements steady despite the feeling around him.

I cried out as I clamped down on him, tensing around him in a weak attempt to milk him dry. His thrusts faltered slightly as I kept sucking him in and he tried to station his breathing through my climax. Once the climax had drawn out enough for him to pull out, he took a breath of air and dipped his head.

His hair hung low, covering his face as he looked completely down, though he was biting down on his lips so hard they might bleed. “If I can’t cum in your womb, I’ll fuckin’ cum on it.” He moaned, wrapping his hand around mine as he fisted his dick until it twitched in my hand, quickly leaking over my fingers and onto my lower stomach.

The fresh cum was warm and landed freshly onto the expanse of my skin, and his cum mixed slightly with Kyle’s. His hand dipped momentarily to try and wipe off the excess cum from his own thighs, then wiped his hand clean on a fresh part of my skin like a mere rag.

He slumped down on the couch, a fair distance from Price and picked up his drink. He was barely packed away, only enough to be considered barely decent, and he used the vapour on the glass to make his hand feel less slick as the water diluted the mixture of cum. He dried his hands on his cargo pants and leaned back in the chair with a slow sip of the whiskey; his mind was completely blank and he sat there looking like the cat who got the cream just like Garrick.

However, Rodolfo, Alejandro and Simon shared a glance, unsure on who was to go next. There was no shoving, no argument and no rush; they were willing to wait for their turn. Alejandro and Simon were patient men, their ranks proved that. Rodolfo was a well-trained soldier, willing to let his superiors pick first.

“Either of you can go.” Alejandro spoke up clearly, it came across as an order as he carefully stroked my hair out of my face again, using his wrist to wipe the sweat off of my forehead and his eyebrows knitted as he watched the other men.

“Are you sure?” Rodolfo continued, evidently not as an act of disobedience but as a subtle sign of respect. “You can go.”

“I don’t care.” His response was swift. “I want to go last. Someone just go.”

The discussion then moved towards the Ghost. Rodolfo turned to him in an attempt to foist himself last. He was awkwardly sitting there, but Simon stood stern and strong. He was unmoving and composed despite the scene in front of him but his eyes betrayed him as his gaze flicked to the mess on my lower torso.

“Just go.” Simon spoke, continuing Alejandro’s orders but his words were still soft outside of the natural roughness of his voice. He was considerably tense, though he was staying patient and entirely collected.

Rodolfo nodded sharply, taking his order in stride as a respectable soldier, though his erection betrayed his professionalism. He awkwardly stood to attention, meeting between my legs and looking Alejandro in the eyes briefly before he grabbed at my tits.

“Princesa..” He mumbled. “You look so pretty.”

“Thank you.” I purred politely, sounding evidently cock-drunk. 

A handful of words tumbled out of his mouth freely despite my inability to understand spanish. Though it seemed like incoherent ramblings of gibberish as all his sentences muddled together. “Eres una mujer brillante.” The words tumbled out of his mouth. “Déjame tratarte bien.”

His hands groped at my chest idly as his brain went into overdrive. His hands wanted to linger downwards but he was cautious of the drying mess on my stomach. His hands landed on the side of my hips, before he quickly made work on his pants.

“You’ll take me so well, won’t you, princesa?” He continued, hesitantly pushing into the hilt, letting out a short gasp at the ease of it. “Holy— Jesucristo.” He cursed. “Easy fit.” A string of groans left his throat just as easily, his hands dug into the flesh of my thighs as he pulled me closer, moving in tandem.

There was a slight snicker behind him as the others agreed despite the exhaustion from post nut clarity as they sunk into the chairs, sipping the fine liquor and their eyes half-lidded in a weak attempt to stay awake or to fight the urge to go for a round two.

Rudy was a quiet man, only speaking when spoken to. He took this as just another mission, despite his own selfish need. Deep down, he knew he wanted this more than anything, but something deep in his gut churned, he knew this wasn’t his girl and that his superiors were watching, that didn’t dissuade him from chasing the mutual pleasure but he didn’t indulge in the fantasies replaying behind his eyes. The positions, the scenarios, the kinks, the generalised exploration. He watched them keenly, though his hands twitched in restraint.

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbled, leaning close to me. His thrusts were precise, though he had to shuffle around in an attempt to find the gspot. “So head empty, that’s it.” His words were a soft coo as he attempted to bring himself down to earth despite his mind being apparently somewhere else.

“Rudy—” I whined out, shuffling my hips to meet his thrusts and try to position him, though it was met with incessant whining once again as I cried out in frustration, too exhausted to use my words.

Price gestured at the two men beside him and in sync, they stood up and each took one side of his hip. They shared a nervous glance as they moved his hips similarly to what worked for them. They were just as tired, and held their breaths until I moaned out the signal they’d done their job. They let out the breath they were holding and slumped back down. Price gave a curt nod of approval, refilling their whiskey and dropping the ice cubes with a clink.

Rodolfo mumbled a ‘gracias’, continuing his movements as he started to hit the good spot. “You have.. The best pussy I’ve ever seen.” He spoke slowly, hesitating over his words. The other men agreed, and admittedly, Simon and Alejandro were excited for what awaited them. They were all experienced with pussy — but there was a mutual agreement that they’d never had anything quite like this.

Eventually, Price had had enough; “Let go.” He ordered sternly though his voice was a low whisper.

He swallowed a groan and tried to turn off his thoughts, though it was only an excuse to obey an order. “Touch yourself for me.” He beckoned me. “Por favor. I want to see it.” I obeyed him just as he did to Price, reaching down to rub my clit for him. He let out a satisfied grunt as his methodical thrusts picked up pace.

“Thank you.” I babbled mindlessly as I rubbed my clit for him, he continued his movements as he wracked his brain for anything he could say that hadn’t already been said.

“There you go, see? You’re not too tired to get yourself off. So needy.” He muttered. “So sensitive.” He’d noticed the sudden tightness at the added sensation from me rubbing myself exactly how I liked. “You’re doing so good, hermosa.”

I nodded blankly, trying to comprehend his words while keeping up with his movements, though he noticed me faltering. “Come on, princesa, you’re creaming on my cock, you're made for..” He trailed off quickly with a sharp inhale. “Eres bien, muy bien.” He praised.

“I’m close.” I whispered. “Please, I’m close.”

He had a lopsided grin, his words were sweet despite the teasing undertone. “That’s it, use your words.” He spoke with his fingernails digging into the plump of my thighs, leaving indents on the flesh. I winced at the feeling though it only fueled me more. 

“So damn wet, creaming all over me, preciosa, look at the ring around my dick.” He rambled to himself helplessly. “I’d do awful things to you if John wasn’t around.” He mumbled, attempting to be out of earshot but whether or not it actually was up for debate, however, it’s not like John responded to his comment.

He was desperately trying to push me over the edge, I was twitching around him from the sensitivity and the impending orgasm. “Want you to cum. Para mi.” He spoke through his groans. “I need you to cum so I can.”

“Rudolfo, please.” I pleaded with him though he beckoned for me to use my words. “I’m right there, don’t stop.” I spoke through teary eyes, the overstimulation getting to me. 

He didn’t plan on stopping, and he felt the weak spasming as another orgasm washed over me completely. The way I took his cock completely through my orgasm was almost too much for him, his breath catching in his throat as he scrunched his face up. He held on as I tried to ride out my orgasm, 

“Mierda, maldita mierda.” He cursed sharply, pulling out and stroking himself once, twice before he spilled out onto my thigh, leaving the white streaks dripping down between my legs. “Casi dentro, ay, eso apestaría.” He tried to laugh awkwardly as he came back to earth, his cum continued to dribble from the tip, smearing it across my thigh before tucking it back away. He stood awkwardly for a moment, taking in the scene in front of him and the scene around him.

He mumbled a quiet ‘gracias’ to Price as he picked up his drink from where he left it and awkwardly moved to one of the chairs away from the couch, not wanting to sit directly next to the man whose girlfriend he’d just fucked and came all over.

Simon reluctantly got up quickly after, handing his drink off to Soap and unbuckling his belt with a clink. “You’re lucky I don’t have the mask on.” He commented, his tone fairly unreadable in the haze of my afterglow. The aftermath was lasting longer and longer and the time between orgasms were shorter and shorter, and my eyes were already quite teary so they both knew there was only so long left before it would begin to be too much. While the other men were simply glad they got their turn, and they were enjoying the view while their dicks got hard once again, there was a slight guilt for what would be of Alejandro if he couldn’t get his turn.

The Ghost clicked his fingers for my attention and once my eyes were on him, he was sliding into the slickness slowly. His shoulders slumped quickly and he let out a low growl. “Okay.” He breathed in sharply through his nose, clearly unexpecting the others to be telling the truth. “Okay, this is a good cunt.” 

He felt me flutter around him while I kept twitching from the overstimulation, and immediately, he let his composure fall and took the situation before him in stride. “They’re so gentle with you.” He spoke with a sense of condescension. “They treat you like you’re fuckin’ glass, ey?”

I nodded weakly, and he slowly began to thrust, dragging it out against the slickness and nuzzling it against the back wall. He found the gspot rather quickly due to his observant nature, and it immediately made me yelp, earning a coo from him.

“I bet you came up with this.” He accused. “Not him, you’re the mastermind behind this, aren’t you?” His words weren’t aggressive, though he spat the words like he wanted the truth and wouldn’t accept any other answer outside of that. He sped up his pace, going harsh and fast, fucking the words out of my head.

“Don’t know what you’re on about.” I managed to stutter out, though he didn’t take that as the answer he wanted or expected. His fingers began rubbing short, slow 8’s onto the sensitive bundle of nerves, earning a flinch away from him but that didn’t stop him.

“You’re torturing us all the time, god, trying to rile us up just so John would get pissed at us.” He continued accusing me, his eyes glued to the slick mess on my lower body. “Then you came up with this sick idea, huh? You get off to it.”

I let out struggling sounds as answers and he just gave a short laugh, continuing his movements though he could tell I was already too close from overstimulation and his harsh words and harsher pace were driving me close.

“I know.” He hummed. “Using your words can be really hard when your head is just so fucking empty.” He tried to speak sweetly, though stifling the aggression wasn’t going to work in the slightest against the one and only Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. “You’re such a good girl when you’re not some cock-drunk slag.”

His words were usually followed by a chuckle, though the air was filled with his groans and growls, and he’d curse under his breath at the tension around him. “You’re swallowing me in, baby.” He grunted. “God, you’re gonna cum from this, aren’t you?”

His words were heavy, and I nodded weakly. “Love it.” I mumbled, though the sentence itself didn’t make a whole lot of sense, he put the dots together on what it meant.

“Yeah, you love being treated like a dirty slag. You love getting your cunt used, getting turned into a fuckin’ cumdump.” His words kept the underlying harshness, though his smug grin made him sound like this was amusing to him.

“I do.” I managed out.

*His words rang around my head like a melody at his smooth words since it was all I could focus on. I was seeing stars and my body ached from all the tension.

The orgasm was quick and sharp, and came (ha) almost out of nowhere; it was short with a cried out ‘oh, fuck’, as I arched into him, my entire body tensing up and Alejandro carefully holding me up.

I fell back down to catch my breath and gazed up at Simon with glazed eyes, he just looked back down with a soft smile, almost pitying me. “Darlin’, that felt amazing but I’m not close yet.”

“Si, please.” I whimpered with no real purpose. He tutted down at me as his actions didn’t stop. My words didn’t string together as I struggled out helpless moans of his name and pleas with no end goal in mind.

“You can take it, baby, just until I cum, yeah? And then you got sweet Alejandro, he’ll treat you real nice too.” He whispered reassuringly, chasing his orgasm. He gave a light pat to my cheek, feeling me pulse around him. “I feel you sucking me in.” He grunted to himself.

“I know you’re close, always right there, dirty fuckin’ slut.” His words were harsh and Price gave a warning glare. “Your greedy pussy keeps begging for more.” His eyes, the whole time, were glued to mine though they would occasionally flicker down to my body to drink me in. His thrusts were quick and strong as he snapped into place, he was cursing and growling under his breath, his hands grabbing at my chest when he didn’t need to hold my hips in place.

I started to sob as he pummelled deep inside of me, Alejandro’s sweet hands wiped them away and Simon let out a soft snicker. “You’re so desperate and sensitive.” His words were heavy with lust. “Don’t you dare cum again, Price didn’t say you had to cum multiple times, hm? And who knows how many you’ve got left in you.”

“Plenty— I’ve got plenty, I can take it all.” I rambled, his movements bullying the air out of my lungs and bouncing me against the soft fabric beneath me. “Please, ‘m gonna cum, I want.. Please, wanna cum.”

His breathing was laboured as I pulsed around him, trying to ride my orgasm out of him, I dipped down to complete myself as short growls left his throat. “Fuck, you’re..” He hissed. “Price got us worshipping this sloppy fucking cunt, naughty girl. Say it.”

“I’m, Ah, I’m a naughty girl.”

He clicked his fingers again to get my attention. “No, say it was your idea. It was your idea to get us to take advantage of this dripping hole, wasn’t it?” It was evident by his clenched jaw and tight-knit brows that he was close but he wasn’t going to cum until I rebutted his claims.

“No! ‘M a good girl!” The words fell smoothly off my tongue and he gripped my face in response, my eyes were glazed over. “I’d never do a thing like that.” I slurred, trying to flutter my eyelashes up at him but it didn’t work on him.

“Liar.” He cursed, slowing his movements just barely. “You must think ‘m stupid. I’m not letting you cum until you tell the truth.” He threatened, and while I didn’t take him seriously, his hands wrapped around my wrist and attempted to hold my hands from him.

“Okay!” I cried out in defeat, earning a beckoned ‘okay?’ as a gesture, I should continue my admittance of defeat. “I did it! It was my idea!” I sobbed, and he continued the pace enough to let my blinding pleasure snap. “God fucking damn, I begged John to let me teach you a lesson—”

“That’a girl, cum on my cock, that’s it.” He spoke softly, turning to give John a smug, shit-eating grin. “See, there you go, that wasn’t hard.” My body ached and the muscles were sensitive, though he continued for a few more thrusts, making sure it was completely over.

His breathing became laboured as he pulled out, my body trembling slightly. “You have everyone fooled that you’re a good girl but you’re just a dirty slag, who just wants to get fucked senseless. You cum so quick and hard, so damn sensitive.” He groaned inwardly, working himself to completion. “Where you want me, y/n? C’mon, bet you’ve rubbed your pretty cunt to this idea.”

The other men cursed at themselves, wishing they’d made the best of it like Simon was, taking it to its full extent. “Anywhere.” I pleaded. “Wherever you want—”

He let out a frustrated grunt while he stroked himself greedily. “That’s not an answer.” He said firmly. “You’ve been such a good girl, so verbal and everything.” He praised backhandedly with the evident annoyance at the lack of answer.

With a sharp hiss, he moved his hips in time with the way he stroked his dick, his face was stone-cold and serious as he tried to quickly cum. Like all the other men, the army had built up his stamina, though being a soldier meant he didn’t have the time to take care of himself fully, learning to only rely on the minimum it took to fulfil his needs.

As much as they hated taking their time, they at least knew this was jerk-off material for at least a few months before the memory began to fade.

“Take it, babe, there you go.” He moaned, small pants of air filling his lungs and he reached around, giving a sharp tug on my hair. “Arch your back for me, that’s it.” He growled, watching me press my stomach into his red, leaking tip. He panted for air with short growls on the exhale, his hand tightly wrapped around my hair and his cock as he worked himself to finish.

He lets out a low, pleased grunt as his cum manages to spurt everywhere — at its peak, it reaches my tits and then dips down to my lower stomach, making a mess on the entirety of the cum-stained flesh. He continued to stroke himself slowly, pushing the last of his cum from the tip before quickly pulling his pants up.

He cleared his throat, and just like that, he was back to his mean old self.

Alejandro carefully took his hands away from me, and moved around the table slowly like he was stalking his prey; he was desperate, beyond so, you could tell from just looking at him and the way he carried himself to kneel between my legs.

His eyes flicked to the mess on my stomach and he let out a low exhale, unbuttoning his pants slowly and furrowing his eyebrows. He rubbed the head up and down the wet slit before sliding in with a grunt. “Good job, querida, you’re doing so good.” He crooned, starting his thrusting before he even reached the hilt.

He leaned forward to press kisses on my neck and chest while he moved, slowly burying his aching cock deeper and deeper. “God, had to watch them fuck you. My dicks so fuckin’ hard.” He spoke mindlessly, letting himself get caught up in the feeling.

My pussy throbbed around him at the stimulation of his movements while he made quick work on my clit, kissing the side of my neck pleasantly. “Can I kiss her?” He pleaded to Price. He answered with a short nod and muttered ‘why not?’

His movements, like the others, were with attempted precision under the fear of being spectated by Captain John Price, though as expected, they couldn’t work to unfaulted perfection.

“Solo déjame hacerte sentir bien, querida.” He mumbled sweetly before pressing a chaste kiss onto my lips. I moaned quietly into his mouth and he took it in stride, picking up the pace and hitting deep inside the slick heat. 

His hand stroked the side of my face, cupping it slightly as he continued pressing kisses along my skin, making me squeeze around him. I was a mess and it was audible and visual to everyone in the room. I was overstimulated, and on the brink of exhaustion as I took everything he could give me.

He noticed the look on my face, he felt guilty that I was so tired, but god, he couldn’t stop now. “One more, querida.” He pleaded with whiney breaths, his languid movements almost overwhelming to my quivering body. 

“Alejandro, it’s a lot.”

“I know, angel, I know.” He spoke sweetly despite the dryness in his throat. “I know you’re tired, but you can do one more, can’t you?” He pleaded, though he was understanding if this was all too much, not that he’d be too pleased about it.

I gave a weak nod from my tear-stained cheeks as his hand stayed cupping my cheek. He pulled away and his hands began to explore my body. “Rub that pretty clit for me, neña, I have to..” His voice trailed off softly, as his hands tried to work around Riley’s cum.

“God, please.” I mindlessly chanted as his hands slightly squeezed at parts of my body, from my breasts to the back of my thighs. I tried to move my fingers quickly in circles but it felt futile, my body going that tingly, numb sensation, the slight searing pain beginning to set in while still being a blinding, white-hot pleasure.

“I have to feel you.” He whispered in explanation, though he continued his sweet, thoughtful actions; he brushed my hair out of my face again and tried to wipe away the sweat forming in some of the crevices. “Dirty girl, messy little thing.” He muttered quietly.

“Your pussy is so good, bebe, buena coño, hm?” He switched smoothly, feeling my twitching when he spoke his native tongue.  “Si, uno más, solo uno más.”

He was gruff, short heavy breaths rasping from his dry throat, but his mind was reeling at the attempt of softness. I couldn’t bear to hurt you — not when you’re so sweet, not when you’re not even mine, he thought to himself as he tried to keep his soft composure. He wanted nothing more than to go hard and fast, to take what he wanted.

“I feel you squeezing me, I know it’s a lot, neña.” His words were sweet as he tried to keep me calm. Tears continued to stream down my face with short moans and she simply hushed them away.

I whimpered under his gentle thrusts, and he continued to try to hush me into calmness. “It’s so much.” I whined.

“It’s okay.” He reassured me. “Just one more for me.” He was careful, he felt the throb of my pussy from sensitivity, it coaxed more out of him as it hugged around his cock perfectly. It was clear that he wasn’t asking, though his encouragement was earnest.

His mouth continued to brush against my flesh and he landed on my lips again. He gave a light slap to the back of my thigh. “I’m trying to be gentle with you, querida.” He spoke smoothly. He continued his movements, his hand holding my thighs into place as he pressed a light kiss on my throat.

“I’m close.”

“Me too, you can do it.” His words were barely above a whisper. “Keep going, neña, you’re right there.” His hips stuttered slightly, struggling to move as I tightened around him, holding him in place. He let out a low groan as his ears perked to my high-pitched moans and whines.

“Alejandro.” I sobbed, tears streaming down my face as I shivered from the numbing pleasure. “Alejandro, like that, don’t stop.”

He continued his movements slowly, “It's hard to go after Ghost and be impressive.” He joked, trying to keep the mood light. “Relax, take a deep breath. Ride it out, milk my fucking cock.” He rasped out, furrowing his eyebrows through the orgasm cascading around him.

I went limp on the table and he wrapped his arms around my torso to hold me up. “Joder, vamos.” He mumbled to himself, kneading my thighs in his hands. “Justo contigo, justo ahí.” 

He was trying to control himself as he neared his edge. I could feel his dick twitching inside of me as he slowed his thrusting to make sure it didn’t hurt me despite it elongating his pleasure. “Trying not to hurt you.” He explained softly. “I’m almost done.”

He quickly slid out with ease and ran his hands up the side of my body, cupping my breast and then my face as he pulled away to spectate the view in front of him. “Tómalo, hermosa.” He grunted, closing his eyes as his orgasm washed over him.

The strings of white cum gushed from his tip, landing on the space of my stomach. It began to gather in the V of my pelvis, dripping down already onto the white-stained flesh. Dry white streaks covered my tits down to my thighs, and his hazy-lidded eyes took in the sight as he rubbed his tip over the mess, smearing his cum around slightly.

“Thank you, cariño.” He muttered sweetly, pressing another chaste kiss onto my lips. “I know you’re sore and tired.” He stroked my cheek softly.

Price let out a soft sigh, patting his thighs and standing up. He placed the empty glass on the blanket and placed his hand on Alejandro’s shoulder. Alej took the hint, putting his dick back in his pants and shuffling them straight as he zipped it up.

“Who’s going to help me clean up?” John announced. The other men were tired, and evidently pussy-drunk from the post-climax haze.

“Do we get a reward?” Mactavish joked coyly, a snicker falling past his lips and earning no more than a sideways glance. John tried to conceal his smug grin, and raised his eyebrows in amusement as he ignored the question.

I was sprawled across the table, legs spread wide still as an act of display. He let a soft smile across his face before he sat down next to me. “Wake up, princess.” He teased. His hand brushed over my forehead, moving the hair and sweat away like Alejandro had done previously. 

“You okay?” He asked softly. I nodded lazily, resting my eyes. “My baby girl is just so fucked out.” He commented with a soft laugh. “Someone get me a wet cloth.” He clicked his fingers, gesturing towards the bathroom.

“I’m tired.” I slurred out.

“You did such a good job, princess.” He praised, holding the wet cloth to my stomach and wiping away the filth. He washed my skin gingerly, watching it collect onto the rag and he tossed it to one of the lads to put away.

There was vague chitter-chatter and the sound of the glasses being taken to the sink, and they walked around cleaning up idly.

He wrapped his arms around my torso, pulling me into a hug, one hand holding my thighs in a cradled position. “That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, smiling softly while picking me up. I nuzzled into his neck, feeling the scratch of his beard. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I sighed, a soft love-filled gaze mixed with my exhaustion. “‘M okay..”

“I know you can take a lot but you can tell me.” He reassured while holding me, his hands rubbing up and down the side of my arm, then he placed a gentle kiss onto the curve of my shoulder. 

He picked me up fully, giving a short glance to the other men as he smiled down at me. “I’m proud of you, princess, you did a good job, I’m gonna take good care of you.” He spoke sweetly as he dismissed the others.

#cod #smut #kinktober '23 #call of duty #captain john price #john price #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap cod #rodolfo parra #alejandro vargas #call of duty smut #cod smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #captain john price smut #john price smut #john soap mactavish smut #john mactavish smut #kyle garrick smut #ghost smut #soap smut #alejandro vargas smut #rodolfo parras smut #alejandro smut

[cod-dump]

Who would be the most devastated if Price was to go MIA or even KIA?

Cause if it were to happen, everyone would be affected in some regard;

Nik and Graves: Loses their husband/partner

Laswell: Loses a close friend of hers

Gaz: Loses a mentor

Ghost: Loses his father figure

Soap: Loses a friend

The Task Force loses its captain, a calm balance that keeps the team level.

Normally scouting out a target didn’t go this badly. Dressed down in civvies, each man strategically placed so they could gather the most intel as possible in the short time frame they were given — This never had gone so wrong before. Splitting up was their only option at the time. If they had moved together they would’ve drawn attention to themselves, and then none of them would be making out of that damn town alive.

Ghost made it back first, paranoid and riddled with anxiety. Gaz joined him and then the two waited two hours until Soap showed up. Their nerves had calmed greatly after the three of them were united, nerves shaken but untouched. Price was the one who told them to get out of there. Told them to get in the shadows and meet up outside of town. They assumed he was spooked and they joked as they waited for him to show up. Four hours would pass, double the time they had waited for Soap-

Something was wrong.

Laswell was called, the boys on edge and unable to proceed while currently in the dark. She had people move in to get them out, had some eyes look for Price. Nothing. Laswell had kept a steeled expression while she had her people look, and the more time that passed the more obvious it was of how much she was forcing herself to keep her composure. Finally, she called off the search and called in someone else.

Working with Shadow Company had never been ideal, but they needed them now. They needed Graves, the bastard that somehow wormed his way into Price’s heart. The boys didn’t have to trust him to know that he was going to do everything he can to find Price. To find his John.

Laswell held off on connecting with Nikolai, knowing the man would fly off the handle knowing his husband was missing. She waited for Graves to do his thing, told him to keep a tight lip from his lover. A hard choice to have to not to rely on his lover for emotional support in all of this, but he knew it was necessary. Nikolai would burn the town down, the country, all to find Price. And the boys just had to sit and wait.

Ghost was quiet, frozen with uncertainty. With fear. Price was missing, not a trace to where he could have gone or who could have taken him. It was terrifying that he just disappeared like that. Ghost was scared. And the only thing he could do to keep quiet about it all was to just not talk all together. It was the only thing he could do.

Gaz and Soap were no better, worry clouding their judgement and the desire to jump into action within each spring of their step. They needed to do something, anything, to help find Price. But if Laswell couldn’t find him, if fucking Graves couldn’t find him — What could they do?

Now, as Laswell finally let Nikolai in on what was happening, they all shared a thought. If Nikolai couldn’t find him, even when nothing was holding him back… what could they do? How do you find a man that just vanished? If Chimera and Shadow Company’s united forces couldn’t find him, then how do they proceed?

How do they carry on without Price?

#call of duty #modern warfare #drabble #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #kate laswell #cod nikolai #phillip graves #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #pricegravesnik #nikpricegraves

[ghosts-bandwagon]

that s/o avoids their touch as joke prompt you did was amazing! could we get one with all the 141 + los vaqueros where you’re avoiding them on purpose? maybe you’ve got really bad anxiety and can’t handle the extra stimulation?

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He knows something is off immediately

I feel like out of everyone, he’s the most understanding and will absolutely give you space

He’s standing outside your door, gently knocking and talking with a low quiet voice, “I’m out here when you’re ready.”

And true enough he’s stood outside your door, leaning against the wall, patiently waiting for you and even when the door opens quietly, he waits for you to call him into your room

And even when you call him inside, he’ll wait a few seconds just in case you change your mind, even goes so far as to check in with you to make sure you’re ok with him coming in

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He’s a little taken aback but he respects your space, he might not quite get it at first but he won’t argue, he’ll give you your space regardless

He doesn’t really know what to do with himself so he walks off to the living room, watched some TV but then he gets a little restless, so he gets up and starts cleaning up a bit

And then he hears your voice quietly call out to him and my man drops everything and starts booking it to your room

His first instinct is to bombard you with questions but he’s aware that it’ll make your anxiety worse so he stays quiet and lets you take the lead

John Price:

Gives you your space without question

“Don’t rush, sweetheart, I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

And sure enough he’s chilling on the couch, tv is on but he’s not really paying attention. He’s in the kitchen fixing you guys some lunch, idly tuning in to the tv. Even if you don’t come out right away, he sets it aside for you when you’re ready

If it’s late by the time you’ve settled down a bit, he might be snoring on the couch but he wakes up as soon as he hears the door open, he doesn’t say anything as you silently trudge over and plop beside him onto the couch

He’s got his arms along the back of the couch so you curl into his side, head against his chest, he gently drapes his arm over your shoulder and brings you in a little closer, he kisses the top of your head and breathe a quiet sigh of relief and contentment.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He’ll ask you what’s wrong immediately, he’s worried he did something to upset you, but as soon as you tell him you’re a bit overwhelmed and need a moment, he backs off and gives you space

He’s struggling to keep himself busy and he’s having a hard time not barraging you with love and affection, his knee jerk reaction is to try to fix whatever it is that’s got you worked up

But he loves and respects you too much to impose himself like that, so he waits for you to give him the ok for some lovin

Even when you call him to your room because you’ve decompressed enough to be ok being around him, he’s biting his cheek to keep himself from hugging and kissing and squeezing you, so you’ll have to take the lead and gently lean into him, his affection is gentle and patient

Alejandro Vargas:

He’ll ask if you’re feeling alright but will back off when you tell him you need a moment to yourself

“Ok, mi vida, let me know if there’s anything you need ok?”

He gives you your space, maybe too much space. He physically leaves and runs a couple errands, making sure to get you all your favorite things while he’s out: favorite snacks, sweets, fruits, drinks, food, he bought your favorite flowers, that book you were eyeballing a few weeks ago

When he comes back home, arms full of gifts for you, he sees you walking about in the kitchen and checks in with you to make sure you’re feeling better

If you’re not, don’t sweat it, take your time. If you’re feeling better, then he’ll ask if it’s ok to hug you and if you give him your blessing, he will. And then he shows you all the things he got for you while he was out and about.

Rodolfo Parra:

He’s so gentle and understanding it’s not even funny, honestly? King.

Even though you’ve told him you need a moment to yourself, all he asks is that you leave your door open a little bit so he can walk past and check in on you

That’s a lie. He asked you to keep it open so he can leave all your favorite snacks on the table by your door, he’s got fresh cold water, your favorite fruits, some sweets, favorite chips

Just because you want some space, that doesn’t mean he won’t still take care of you. He’ll clean up the house a bit, load up the dishwasher, get the laundry going, light a couple candles and maybe put on some sweet instrumental music

With all that indirect affection, how could you possibly not call him into your room and let him love you?

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #alejandro x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #rudy x reader #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod headcanons

[maryangelex]

Never Let Me Go (Pt. 5)

John Price x f!Reader

(Part 6)

Summary: After weeks away, Price comes back from deployment to a warm welcome.

warnings: nsfw!!, cumshots, praising, pulling out, p in v sex, fingering, some overstimulating

a/n: this is very much not as proofread as I’d like it to be but that’s what a 1 am burst of horniness creativity does

songs for this chapter are Kerosene by Yves Tumor but also Burning Desire by Lana!!!

Three weeks passed since then. John had let you know he'd be back home sometime soon if everything went as planned. During these last four weeks, you and he had remained in consistent contact, growing more and more comfortable with each other.  

At first, you had been hesitant to send him more pictures of yourself donning the few other pieces of lingerie you owned, but John made sure you knew just how much he enjoyed you taking his mind off his current situation.

He didn't pressure you, he never would be capable of doing so, but he did encourage you by sending you messages that let you know when he was in need of you, when he couldn't get you out of his mind, when he was desperate for you to ease his mind off work.

You, being your gratuitous self, never denied him that pleasure; you got to the point that you were beyond comfortable with letting John see your body, nearly every bit of it that wasn't clothed by the sheer lace fabric of your garments. Eventually, it was even he who wired you money for you to 'get yourself something pretty' for him, as he said. 

And you did just that by buying yourself sets you thought he'd enjoy seeing; teddies, rompers, garter belts, babydolls, everything you thought John would appreciate his money going to. You felt like his sugar baby, but you absolutely didn't mind, in a way you were flattered. 

You'd make sure to model every single new piece and John made sure to praise you and commend you for picking out something so perfect for him. 

And throughout all this time of waiting and being restricted to receiving John's affection through your phone screen, you couldn't help but count the days, the hours until he'd come back home. 

But you also couldn't help but wonder what this, between you and John, could be labeled as, what he considered this thing between the two of you to be? Surely it had escalated beyond a friendship, that line had been crossed a long time ago past the point of no return. John seemed like a serious man, and you knew he was much older than you to be doing situationships or anything of the sort.

You guessed you'd enjoy it for the time being, whatever this was, even though deep within you the long talks on the phone, the attention, his praises and affection, the way he showed you how much he wanted you, all of that was getting to you. 

You were in the cafe this Saturday morning, and it was a busy shift for once; plenty of people decided that breakfast at your and your cousin's cozy little cafe would be ideal, for finding a cozy, warm place to hide away from the weather that got colder and gloomier each day.   

Your cousin had made her best efforts to not pry into your little fling with John but she could only do so much. You had kept some mystery to it, but of course, it was difficult to contain the exhilaration of your escapades with the stunning man you had eating out of the palm of your hand. Still, you didn't want to give too much away. As far as she knew, you two were just texting and calling while he was away every now and then. 

The two of you were hard at work today, though, not much talk was being had except for the few jokes you two exchanged every now and then to take the weight of work off your shoulders, to alleviate the few entitled customers that walked in throughout the day. 

One of them really got under your skin, though. A middle-aged woman with a sour face had walked in to order a latte, and even though you had done your job and fulfilled her order, she still had something to say. She decided that she no longer wanted oat milk and instead wanted soy milk, demanding that you remake her drink, then deciding it was still not fit for her to pay you, and of course, deciding to insult you before being on her way. 

You were enraged at that, and that was your cousin's cue to tell you to take a break and go do some grocery shopping at the shops next door. With an exasperated sigh, you grabbed your purse and coat and stomped out of the cafe, repeating a mantra in your head to keep cool and not let some bitter bitch ruin your day.

You checked your phone briefly as you walked down the street, hoping to see a text from John, something that would cheer you up. But to your misfortune, there was nothing today yet. You thought about how much better your day would be if you had him around, even if it was just through a short text. Another heavy sigh left you, this one more mournful than irritated. 

You walked into the small family-owned grocery shop that was a few blocks from your cafe, your mind already starting to ease away from the negativity of that interaction as you wandered around. You and your cousin frequented this place to buy ingredients for the cafe, and for your personal shopping as well.

As you walked around collecting the items on your mental list, you felt your phone vibrate twice in your pocket. When you reached in to look at your screen you saw your beacon of hope; John had texted you. 

The first one was his usual morning greeting, followed by a second one that made your heart jump. 

"Coming back home on Sunday. Dinner?" 

You held back a squeal when you bit your smiling lip, biting the glove off your hand to be able to respond to him as quickly as you could. 

"My place at 8, don't be late", you replied, adding a few emojis to decorate your invitation to John. 

You thought about just how easily the man could single-handedly turn your shitty day around. Your shopping list just became longer as you sought out the proper ingredients for John's homecoming dinner.  

When Sunday rolled around you were off work, so you dedicated the entire day just to prep for your dinner. You had a whole menu prepared in your mind, even went to buy wine that didn't cost only £10. And something had possessed you to be John's perfect housewife and slave away at making him a Sunday roast. 

It was nearly 6 by now, and while you let the meat roast in the oven you hurried to get yourself ready. You showered with diligence, scrubbing the smell of cooking off your skin and hair. All you could feel was a mix of nerves and excitement to see him again. The thought of John's hands on you again, in the comfort of your own home where the two of you couldn't possibly have any disruptions, made your heart skip a beat. 

You shook the thought away as you threw on the dress you had picked out, one that hung on your body in every perfect way possible. When you got back to cooking it was nearly 7:30, so you checked your phone for any sign of John being on his way, or worse, for any sign of him not being able to make it. 

But you were pleasantly surprised when you saw a message from him letting you know he was in a cab on his way to you. Another moment of your heart fluttering. Now you were counting down the seconds till 8, not knowing what to do with yourself as you waited for the roast to reach its perfect temperature. Your mind was racing; you wanted everything to be perfect for John, you wanted to be perfect for John. 

Twenty minutes passed of you pacing around your flat, fluffing cushions that didn't need fluffing, biting your fingernails, dusting surfaces that didn't need dusting, and moving items centimeters in the same spot. 

You were snapped out of your fit of perfectionism by the sound of three knocks at your door, the sound of knuckles striking the old wood made you jump. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding before striding to open the door, and when you did so he was standing there like an apparition. 

That kind smile you hadn't seen in a month was flashing at you, tugging at bearded cheeks and crinkling the sides of deep blue eyes. You gawked at John like it was the first time you had seen him, the realization that he was real and at your doorstep dawned on you and you couldn't help the stupid smile that cut across your own face. 

"John," was all you could muster, and the chuckle that rumbled from his chest as he stepped closer to you made you realize that he was real, that he was really back, that he was just inches from you. 

John's hands cupped the sides of your face as he planted a kiss on the apple of your cheek. You held your hands over his own, feeling the man's rough skin in comparison to your supple, delicate fingertips that had never known labor like his. 

"Miss me, dove?" he asked, voice husky. Of course, you did, you thought, swooning at the sound of his voice, your eyes locking with his. How you missed those ocean eyes of his. You nodded in his grasp, your hands migrating to his shoulders as you stepped forward to place a soft kiss on his lips. Your pecks were gentle, shy even, as if the distance and time apart had you both starting back at square one. 

"I missed you too, sweetheart," he said against your lips, to which you giggled and gave him a chaste kiss before pulling back to lead him inside. 

"I hope you're hungry," you smiled. 

John let out a sigh, "Starving," he confessed. He entered your flat and you noticed he was still lugging his backpack with him. Your face dropped; did he come straight to you?  

John had a gift for reading your thoughts through just your expression, "Didn't wanna waste any time getting to you, dove," he said, gesturing to the backpack in his hand before setting it aside at your entryway. 

Fuck, his dedication to you never ceased to amaze you. The fact that he had gone out of his way to get to you the second he got off the plane ride home had you feeling some sort of way like you were the most important person in the world, a feeling John never failed to elicit in you. 

"You didn't have to, John, I could've waited for you," you gave him an apologetic smile. 

"I couldn't," he quipped, flirty bastard as always. You rolled your eyes, pretending like his courting didn't affect you. 

You took hold of his hand, bringing him along with you with a light "c'mere," as a command to follow you to the kitchen. John let you guide him, and when he caught a whiff of the cozy smell in the kitchen he practically melted. His expression was a mix of impressed yet embarrassed at the realization that you made all of this for him; you could see the blush painting his cheeks.

You urged him to sit at the table where you had set everything out for him, grabbing his plate to serve him the Sunday roast you had put your heart into making for him. He insisted on opening the wine bottle for you, it was the least he could do. 

"Fuckin' hell, love, I should've at least brought you flowers," he cursed, a scowl pulling at his lips in dissatisfaction with himself. 

"Well I'll give you a second chance for you to do so," you chuckled lightheartedly, already planning on this being a Sunday habit for the two of you. He liked your remark, evident by the approving hum he let out. 

You sat next to him at the table and the two of you shared the meal. It felt like this wasn't the first time, more so it felt like this was customary for you two; for you to welcome him with a home-cooked meal and a pristine house like you were his wife waiting for him to come back home. You basked in the feeling of it, completely ignoring the doubt that had lingered in the back of your mind.

John was none the wiser, he was enjoying himself thoroughly. You think he felt the same way; he looked content and delighted by the food and company, his hand never leaving yours throughout dinner, making sure he was holding you or touching you in any way as if to not let you go again, to not drift off you like a log in a river's current. 

There was a glow to him now that he was with you, it was almost angelic. And the way that he looked at you made you feel enveloped with endearment. 

When you were finished, and John looked like he was about to enter a food coma from how much he'd indulged in your delicious food, you felt more than satisfied with yourself as you rose from your seat to collect the plates. Immediately, John got up from his seat to help you; you knew he was unable to be a bystander when it came to you doing absolutely anything, the man couldn't live with himself if he did. 

He helped you carry nearly everything to the sink and insisted he did the dishes for you. The domesticity of it all made you feel warm inside. When you came back to the table to wipe it clean and put anything remaining away, you felt John's presence behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back as he inched closer. 

You felt his large hands on your hips, stilling yourself as you revel in his touch. His hands scaled up your body, massaging the tender flesh of your hips and waist, feeling the plumpness and curves of your frame like you were clay on a potter's wheel. He hummed to himself and you felt the wetness pooling between your thighs. One of John's hands migrated up to your hair, gently adjusting it over your shoulder to expose your back in the strappy dress you wore. Your body was filled with goosebumps when the hairs of his mustache tickled your bare skin, peppering warm kisses on your shoulder blades. 

"Can't believe you made all of this f'me, sweetheart," his voice vibrated against your skin as he spoke between kisses. The hand remaining on your waist was sprawled on your lower tummy, pressing your ass flush against him. You could feel the hard mass of muscle behind you, the bulge of his crotch poking against you. 

"My sweet girl, so carin'...so stunnin' in this dress," his hand on your belly pet the silky fabric, while the other caressed up your arm, up to your shoulder, your collarbone, and finally stroking down your sternum between your breasts. His mouth occupied itself with the exposed skin of your neck now, his velvety lips gently pressing against it. 

The sound of him calling you his ringed in your ears, and you couldn't hold back the whine that brewed in your throat. 

"I wouldn't mind comin' home to this every day f'the rest of my life," he professed, and now you really were a wreck between your legs, all for this man's simple words. You wiggled your hips against his crotch, feeling the hardness that was confined in his jeans. That was signal enough for him; a sign that you were just as needy for him as he was for you. 

"Remember everythin' I said I'd do to you over the phone, love?" 

You nodded as your head lolled to the side, John's lips scaling up your neck and up to your jaw. His hands were now firmly holding your breasts, fondling the soft mounds of flesh. 

"Been thinkin' 'bout it all this time... thinkin' 'bout how good 'm gonna fuck you tonight, dove." 

Maybe it was all the wine you two consumed throughout your dinner, maybe it was the dizzying effect John's presence had on you, but without even realizing it you wound up in your room with him tearing your dress off between panting breaths and sloppy kisses. His hands desperately and messily scoured your now bare body, making sure to not leave an inch without being touched. 

Your hands got to work as well, clumsily working at the buttons of his shirt; he chuckled lightly at your nervousness and gently assisted you until you finally tore off the pesky shirt. Your tipsy mind took a moment to admire the man before you; burly physique with a comforting layer of fat adorning the taut muscles his career had provided him. Your hands caressed his hairy chest, thick and lush, and trailed down to his abdomen following the treasure trail of hair that trailed down his waistband. 

John's rumbling chuckle interrupted your gawking before helping you take off his trousers but staying in his underwear.

He gently guided you to your bed, his lips against yours whispering for you to lay down for him, and you complied, sprawled out on your bedsheets like a work of art made just for his eyes. He sat between your legs, looking down at your naked form and swallowing you whole, wide pupils burning a hole through you. You could see the way his cock twitched in the confines of his boxers as he eyed you, letting you know the sight of you like this was a delight to him. 

He dipped down to press his lips over yours, hands tracing the sides of your body down to take a handful of your hips and drag you down closer to him. You took a fistful of the hair at the back of his head as you kissed him deeper, your hips rolling up to find his clothed erection to rub on for some relief, but his grip only tightened on your hips and pressed you still on the mattress. 

"Needy girl," he whispered, giving your bottom lip a light tug with his teeth. Your response was a whiny moan and all he did was smile at your evident impatience. 

One of his hands scaled up your body, taking one of your breasts and giving it a squeeze before toying with the sensitive pebble. His mouth followed suit, popping the other unattended one into his mouth and sucking on it, making another pathetic sound come from you. 

He nipped your tits lightly, scattering bites and kisses alternating between the two while his fingers trailed down the center of your abdomen and down to between your legs. You absentmindedly spread them wider for him, the coldness of the room only making your drenched pussy more sensitive before he swiped a finger between your folds. The contact made you shudder, and John feeling your wetness made him growl a gravelly moan in his throat. 

"Like this for me already, sweetheart?" you nodded your head pitifully which only riled him up even more. The rough fingerpads of his ring and middle fingers applied pressure on your clit, rubbing tight circles on it. John propped himself on his free arm as he watched the way your mouth fell agape in silent moans and as you squirmed at the way he treated your delicate pussy. 

"P-please," you started, your legs spreading impossibly farther apart. 

"Please what, love?" 

"Need you, John," your nails dug into his shoulders. "Want you...so bad." 

John was too good of a man to deny his pretty girl anything, so of course he moved his fingers and slowly dipped them into your aching entrance, painfully slowly. A mewl came from your parted lips as you felt the pressure of his only the first knuckle of fingers inside of you. If just his fingers were this thick and invasive in your pussy you couldn't imaginejust how much his cock would split you open.

His eyes were fixated on watching the way your face contorted as he pressed further in, so so so slowly penetrating you, until his fingers bottomed out inside of you. And then a beat later, you practically sobbed when you felt the digits curl inside of you, seeking out the spongy, sensitive spot inside your walls.

Your hands gripped John's biceps to ground yourself as he fucked you with his fingers, alternating between curling inside and pumping in and out of you. His thumb joined in to rub at your throbbing clit, and his mouth busied itself with one of your breasts once again. You threw your head back and just about fell apart, hips rolling to match his movements as you selfishly got off on his fingers. 

"Fuck, doll...love how I make you sound," John cursed under his breath, mouth never leaving your tit as he lapped his tongue and tenderly bit the soft flesh. His cock was throbbing and leaking pre in his boxers, the impossible hardness of it almost made him lightheaded. 

His mouth moved to your neck now, lips sucking on your skin to make sure when you went out everyone knew you were not to be claimed by anyone else but him. 

"J-John," you sobbed, feeling the tightness in your stomach that was only rising further the more his fingers fucked you. 

"I know, baby, I know," he cooed, "be good and cum for me, yeah?" 

You nodded your head desperately, a hand reaching to tug his hair once again, peeling him away from your neck to crash his lips against yours. But he resisted, opting to keep his gaze on your teary-eyed face, his pace never faltering as he knew you were almost at the edge of the precipice. 

"Uh-uh, doll...wanna see your pretty face when you cum." 

With only a few more pumps of his fingers, your walls were clamping around the digits, your legs spasming and your moans being sobbed out as you came on John's hand. His rhythm slowed down, his thumb on your clit being the only thing moving and overstimulating your abused clit as you rode out your orgasm. Your ears were practically ringing and your mind was in a haze as you climaxed.

John's piercing blue eyes took in the sight of you cumming from just his fingers which were now completely saturated in your slick. He whispered praises as you came down from your high, breathless and sensitive. His fingers retracted from your pussy, collecting the juices that were oozing from you, that had now covered the inside of your thighs. 

"Good girl," he purred, "so fuckin' good... look at you, sweetheart."

He brought his fingers to his lips, sucking on them and closing his eyes as a delighted hum came from him at the taste of you. "Taste so fuckin' good...missed how this pussy tastes so much." 

You whined at his words and at the view of him tasting you on his fingers. Your hand weakly reached for his boxers, tugging on the waistband in a silent request for him to finally take them off. 

He looked at you and chuckled, "So greedy...want my cock even after I just made you cum?" 

"Need it, John," you said shamelessly, your eyes pleading for him innocently. 

He sat back on his haunches, tugging down his boxers with his clean hand while the other reached to stroke his aching cock, coating it in the mix of his spit and your juices. He moaned lewdly at the contact, slowly jerking himself off in front of you for a moment, lubing up his cock and preparing it for you.

You watched just how pretty he was in his hand, how he sat heavily on the palm of his hand, flushed red tip and veiny, with a hefty girth that you knew would tear you open. 

You watched him intently and your desperation for him was anew; arousal and neediness for him overcoming you again. You weren't going to be satisfied until John's cock was in you. 

"I did promise to properly fuck you," his unoccupied hand stroked your cheek and you melted in his touch, your sweaty skin felt like it was on fire.

"And I keep my promises, love." he purred, aligning his cock with your socked entrance that he had just so generously prepared. When he pressed inside you felt his girth stretch you wide, feeling the sting of the intrusion despite his prep-work; and yet, he fit so perfectly in you, like the last piece of a puzzle.  You gasped in unison as he buried himself into you to the hilt. He took a moment to savor the feeling of you wrapped around his cock, like a perfect mold cast precisely for him. Your walls fluttered around him, begging for him to move.  And after a beat, he rolled his hips, slipping his shaft out of you until only the tip was kissing your entrance, before slowly sliding back into you. He kept this pace, pulling out entirely just to bottom out to the point you felt the mound of hair at his base phantom over your skin.  You choked on your moans, nails digging at John’s shoulder blades as he pistoned his hips into you. His pace hastened and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled your home. 

John’s hand was cupping your jaw, holding eye contact with you as he bullied his cock into you. Those crystal eyes watched your tear-filled ones, watched the way you lost yourself at the feeling of his tip punishing that sweet spot inside of you. 

The way he fucked you was becoming more and more primal each thrust. John was at the verge of giving into every ounce of desire that he’d had pent up since the moment he walked into your cafe. Since the moment he’d tasted you. You felt the way his thrusts became harsher, the squelching sound of your pussy was lewd and sinful as you took every inch of him.  He held you impossibly close, his thrusts were shorter but impossibly deeper, making his pelvis rub against your needy clit. 

His breathing was ragged, huffing past his parted lips. 

“Fuck, baby…been wanting you like this…so fuckin’ long, so fuckin’ bad,” he tucked your sweat-damp hair behind your ear before lightly wrapping his hand over your neck, just to feel your pulse, feel that you’re really there, “you’re fuckin’ perfect, n’ you’re mine.” 

Now he slammed his hips into yours, thrusting with reckless abandon, losing himself in you. You let out a cry and tears rolled down your cheeks. A hand gripped at the tufts of hair in the nape of his head and his forehead rested against yours.  You were his, since the moment he walked through the door you knew you would be. And here you were, your heart racing and your pussy enamored by the way he fucked you and claimed you as his. 

You babbled mindlessly about how you were his, about how you wanted him to use you, how you wanted to cum so bad around his cock. So shameless you wouldn’t recognize yourself if you really heard what you were professing. You only heard a groan come from John and a string of curses as he fucked you impossibly deeper and harder, any further and you two would merge into one. 

One of John’s hands slipped between the two of you to rub at your clit. His mouth clashed against yours, swallowing the moans that were flying out of you at the added pleasure, before encouraging to be his good girl and cum for him a second time. 

“I can feel you so close, baby, so fuckin’ close,” he growled, lips still against yours, “let go, baby, be good and cum for me again, yeah?”  

And it was like his word was your command. John’s thrusts and the feeling of his fingers rubbing your clit made you cum once more. Your back arched off the mattress and you gave another sob as you clenched around the wide girth of his cock, body convulsing as euphoria consumed you, burning every single one of your senses. 

“That’s it, baby, that’s it.” 

John didn’t stop fucking into you, though. He slowed down momentarily to let you come down from your high. 

But then his pace picked up and became sloppier as he chased his own high, pounding into you to reach his own climax. 

“Please, John,” you mumbled drunkenly “Want you— want you to cum, too.” Your body went limp like a rag doll sprawled on the bed, arms falling over your head on the mattress, letting him use you as he pleased. 

John let out a growl as he leaned back, holding your hips in place so he could relentlessly fuck you to his heart’s desire. Huffing breaths and grunts escaped him, chest puffed proudly as he took you and used you like you asked him to. 

And soon enough, he pulled out of you, spurting ropes of cum onto your lower belly and pussy. He grunted as his hips faltered, cock pulsating as he painted your abdomen and entrance with his seed.  You moaned at the sight of him coming undone, at the feeling of his hot cum all over you. 

John supported himself on his arm beside you, panting breathlessly as every drop of him was let out onto you. You tiredly embraced him as he came down from his high, planting lazy kisses on his sweaty face. He gave you an appreciative hum as he slowly let himself lay beside you. 

The two of you lay on your bed exhausted, messy and in a haze but basking in the afterglow. 

After a moment, John reached for the box of tissues you had on your nightstand and cleaned up the mess of himself that coated your skin. You let him and gave him a smile that conveyed how out of it you still were, to which he chuckled pleased with himself. 

Once finished, he wrapped his arms around you, lifting your tired body to lay on top of his hairy chest. You were both sticky with sweat, but you were too drained to care as you lay on top of him, absorbing his musk and heat of his body. You felt his lips give a chaste kiss to the crown of your head before your lids started closing. 

John’s fingertips raked over the expanse of your back as you drifted asleep, the last thing you gave him was content sigh. 

He chuckled to himself, inhaling the scent at the top of your head before he let himself doze off with the weight of your body on him. 

That night you didn’t dream. Your body gave out completely. You had nothing to dream about since all you wanted was lying under you in the comfort of your bedsheets.

#cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #fanfic #cod fanfic #john price #price call of duty #price x reader #price mw2 #price cod #captain price #john price x you #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x you #john price cod #john price call of duty #captain john price

[soapskneebrace]

CARTEL PROTECTION

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!Reader, John "Soap" MacTavish x f!Reader, Alejandro Vargas x f!Reader (unrequited but also kind of requited, it's complicated) Rating: All Ages Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: None Author's Notes: The first chapter in a series that I will likely not get to, but it's fun and I thought y'all might enjoy it. Who knows, if there's enough interest I might write a connected fic or two rather than a whole thing. I hope y'all can excuse how very rough this is, because it is literally the very first draft.

The tarmac of Los Vaqueros Cuartel General is hard and hot beneath the soles of your boots, bouncing the heat of the Mexican sun back upwards toward its origin, and as you approach the truckside powwow you can feel a fine sheen of perspiration beginning to form on your bare arms. It’s hot, far too hot for late October, and you don’t imagine yourself not sweating for however long this operation is going to take.

“I need you in Las Almas,” Laswell had said over the phone, intruding on an appointment with your manicurist. “Something is going on, and I don’t have enough information.”

“Sure,” you’d replied, regarding the woman opposite you trying to hide the fact that she was listening in. The nail tech wasn’t a plant, you were reasonably certain, but only an amateur talked freely about your kind of work. “I’d love to see Alejo and his kids again.”

You put two fingers (nails painted with tiny sugar skulls) to your tongue and cab-whistle at the group of three men to catch their attention. None of them flinch, and as they all turn to look at you, you realize immediately that this job is going to be more bothersome than you’d assumed, because the skull-plated mask that turns your way is not, as it were, a new face.

You remember the iron smell of staunched blood and the full brunt of his weight driving the both of you to the ground as you’d tried to hold him up. You remember the drench of warm Kastovian rain and hydroplaning in a stolen truck across the border into Georgia. You remember watching three hours of surgery. You had not stayed to see the fourth.

It shows immediately in his eyes as you meet them. The man you only know as Ghost remembers too.

You are not in the business of dragging baggage around. “Colonel Vargas!” you call, waving.

“Alma!” Alejandro exclaims, a wide smile breaking the severe lines of his angular face. “Laswell said you were coming, but I didn’t expect you so soon!”

As you join the men, you let him hug you, unable to keep from grinning at his easy affection. Alejandro—Alejo to you—is another familiar face.

You remember reheated mole verde on rice in the General kitchen, tiny sips of mezcal as he waxed poetic about what he could do with the full stock he kept in the larders of his fabled ranch. He’d looked at you warmly then, as warmly as he looks at you now when you release your embrace.

You hold his warmth precious, but do not respond to it.

“Someone has to be the brains of this operation,” you say, and wave to Rudy in the truck.

“It’s Alma, then?” asks the soldier standing next to Ghost, in a brogue that stands out as much as Ghost does.

John “Soap” MacTavish is the only personage you do not know. Laswell had given you a very sparse brief before you’d headed toward Mexico, so you already know that he’s both effective in the field and resolutely Scottish, but it only takes you one glance to get a notion of his character. The mohawk says more about him than he probably could ever say about himself, and the stunning blue eyes tell you the rest.

You glance at Ghost. Laswell had told you about Soap, and said you knew everyone else. Damn her. She isn’t getting a Christmas card this year.

“Sometimes,” you answer the Scot, looking back at him. Alma, of course, is not your real name.

Ghost snorts. He doesn’t say anything, but you know what he’s thinking.

So you say it out loud, smiling at the sergeant congenially. “Sometimes it’s Katya. Sometimes it’s something else. Maybe I’d be Mary, if we were in Glasgow.”

He smiles back immediately. Oh yes, Soap MacTavish is a dangerously open book. “Queen of Scots, aye? I see how it is.”

“CIA shit,” grumbles Ghost. Then, to business, “Where’s Hassan?”

-

Las Almas is as beautiful as you remember it, colorful and lively as the Fuerzas Especiales convoy passes from the countryside into the city’s sprawling outskirts.

“So how do you know Alejandro?” Soap asks, looking at you over his shoulder. He’d volunteered to take the furthermost seat in the back, which was really more of a padded bench facing out the window, in order to give you the more comfortable chair.

You meet his gaze. The SAS needed to hang a warning sign on him—DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT—because close up, the jewel-bright azure is even more arresting than it had been at a distance.

“I met him on vacation,” you reply, lifting one brow and hopefully hiding the little jolt in your breath that the proximity inspired.

Rudy and Alejandro both laugh at that. You chance a peek at Ghost, who’s sitting beside you in the back row of the SUV, and find him looking resolutely forward. You’re not sure if that’s good or bad.

“Anyone who comes to Las Almas for vacation is either too stupid to live past the first day,” says Rudy, eyes crinkling as they meet yours in the rear view mirror, “or just crazy enough to have a good time.”

You smile back—it wasn’t the first time he’d said that about you.

“In truth, we’ve ended up helping each other a few times, haven’t we?” says Alejo. “The US is always worried about narcos crossing the border, and Fuerzas Especiales is always in need of good intelligence.”

It had been your impeccable Spanish that had convinced Kate to stick you across the border. Her superiors had been doing their augury, reading the bird formations in the sky and sifting through the proverbial entrails, and had decided via these machinations that rather than let you monitor Verdansk post-Armistice as you’d originally been tasked (your Russian is also impeccable), you should instead worry about cartels on the Texas border.

You sneak a glance at Ghost again. He’s looking at you this time, eyes narrowed.

The reassignment had come to you at the third hour.

“Hopefully ‘Alma’ can help again, then,” he says, and it is very strange to hear that name on his tongue, to hear the syllables bend around the brassy, rumbling Manc that had comfortably used another name for you entirely.

Verdansk. A hollow shell of a building, its veins somehow still pumping water and electricity. His mask, pulled up over his nose, revealing a hard line of a mouth as he sipped bitter black coffee, the corners twisting as he was unable to hide how much he hated it.

“You should be burned for this by itself, Katya,” he’d grumbled.

“You do groceries next time,” you’d replied pleasantly. “See if the shelves magically fill with boxes of Tetley when you’re there.”

“Fuck Tetley. Even this swill is better than that.”

He still drank the whole cup.

“Think I prefer Mary,” says Soap, settling against your seat back.

The brogue brings you out of the memory and back into the present. Verdansk is half a world away. So is the Ghost you’d playacted domesticity with. You needed to make room in your head for missiles, rogue Quds Force majors, and enterprising narcos. The job had no care for anything else.

“And that’s why I’d choose it,” you say, mimicking his posture and sitting back. The Scot has no place in any of your memories, not in Kastovia and not in Las Almas—and you’re thankful, in that moment, that he’s there. “People are willing to do things for someone that sounds like one of their own.”

You hear the smile in his voice as he responds, “Can’t think of a man who wouldn’t do anything for you, bonnie—”

“Alright, sergeant!” Ghost snaps.

The reprimand surprises you both, and you lapse into awkward, contrite silence. Alejo meets your eyes in the rear view, concerned, and you give them an exaggerated roll.

The need to ground yourself notwithstanding, it was a bad idea—and, you think, massively trashy—to flirt right in front of him.

You slouch in your chair. Laswell is getting coal for Christmas. The grossest, sootiest stuff you can find.

#ghost x reader #soap x reader #alejo x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #og post #i'm not gonna bother tagging for maximum visibility

[ninjaturtlemaniac]

Part 8 Trolls Headcanons/ Theories/ Thoughts/ Ideas

Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part9 Part10

Queen Barb - messing with the Rock String made Thrash lose his mind and made Barb more aggressive. Notice they both seemed to be more level headed after the strings were destroyed?

Riff - studying to work in Aged Care. His studies are sponsored so that he can look after King Thrash.

Classical Trolls - hosts the Trolls version of the Met Gala. All the tribes leaders and their entourages are invited. Also huge names in each genre are invited; Brozone, Sugar Gals, Bad Hair Day, Val Thundershock. (The MeTROLLpolitan Museum of Art 😆)

Trollings - can't make their hair into a gradient style until they are older. (survival/camouflage situations they can do, but only temporarily)

Putt Putt Trolls - use the courses tokens as general currency.

Viva - blows raspberries on peoples cheeks/arms/stomachs to show affection.

Viva - likes to collect 'things'. (Canon?) Never know when you might need the thing again. It can be reused for a different purpose. Side effect of trying to survive. Borderline hoarder. Clay does it too, he is just more organized about it.

John Dory - sometimes refers to himself in the third person. "John Dory doesn't need a map!"

John Dory - doesn't 'get' modern art, pretends he does so people don't think he's dumb.

John Dory - will try to use fancier sounding words in a sentence, thinking it makes sense. It doesn't.

Clay - has a lot of energy. When he isn't dancing, he fidgets, taps his foot, bounces his knee, drums pens.

Clay - has many, many of the same sweater romper. All of them are different shades of green.

Clay - eventually hires an assistant. The assistant is mentally prepared for Clay to be a dictator of a boss. They are shocked when Clay keeps saying things like "Have you had a break yet?" "I think you need a day for your mental health." "Yes, that's how much I'm paying you. How are you going to save for your own pod if I pay you any less?" (I have designed him, I've called him Rye if anyone wants to see him)

Floyd - used to busk to earn extra cash (based on that one concept art)

Floyd - felt he needed to start a solo career because he wrote a lot of songs that JD didn't pay attention to.

Floyd - did in fact live with the other Troll tribes for a while. Hard Rock Trolls were the last ones he met. This was where he met his manager/mentor. (Have also designed him if anyone is interested)

Bruce - all the kids now request Brozone songs instead of lullabies.

Bruce - opened the restaurant before he met Brandy. Used all the money he had left from Brozone to open it.

Bruce - teaches his kids about body positivity.

@jorjafrozen 🤪

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls branch #trolls clay #trolls movie #trolls brozone #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls floyd #brozone #broppy #trolls poppy #trolls dreamworks #branch trolls #trolls barb #trolls riff #trolls headcanons

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Hi! As one of the “ladies who Brady” I just want to say thank you for providing content for us Brady fans.

I’d also like to request some headcanons for how Brady would act when he’s jealous.

Feel free to get as spicy as you want.

Darling fellow Lady Who Bradys, what a joy it is to see our numbers swell of late!!! John Brady is getting the attention he so richly deserves 💙

So outside the super specific scenario I laid out in Parting Gifts, I feel like if he was able to directly interact with the source of his jealousy, Brady’s snark would come shining through.

Mature/explicit themes - 18+ below the cut (I got super carried away…)

Huge thanks to darling @precious-little-scoundrel for collaborating with me on this one

Typically he’s not a very insecure individual, but here at the ad-hoc reunion of men from the 100th with you on his arm he cannot help but feel old rivalries burning a little brighter

Goes to fetch the pair of you fresh drinks while you chat with a few friends you’d already met back in New York before you relocated here to Maryland for his new job

On his return, he is surprised to find you alone with that lush Jones from Arkansas with his strawberry blond hair and absurdly long eyelashes and it immediately raises his hackles

Comes to stand close to you, inserting himself slightly between you and the interloper as he gently sets the drink in your hand

“John Brady!” Jones greets him with exaggerated joviality and he acknowledges him with a tight-lipped, polite smile and nod “so glad ya took time outta yer busy schedule ter come ter our lil’ ol’ get together”

“So glad you managed to find the place, Jones.” Brady’s eyes glitter with a hard edge and you do your best not to choke on the sip of your drink you’d just taken

Jones, for his part, remains as blithely oblivious of the slight as he had proven of the finer details of navigation and drones on, continuing to shuffle closer to you and ask you all manner of intrusive questions until Brady decides he has a headache and it’s time to call it a night

Makes you wait under the overhang in front of the hotel as he dashes out into the rain to fetch the car, darting around to open your door despite the second soaking it earns him

“Thank you, Johnny” you smile fondly and kiss his cheek before sliding onto the leather bench seat at his side as he pulls out for home

At first it’s hard to discern, above the noise of the wipers squeaking across the windshield as they desperately try to fight off the deluge of water, but eventually you pick up on the fact that Brady is muttering bitterly under his breath

“…wouldn’t know a cardinal direction if it jumped up and bit him in the behind…man hasn’t dried out one drop since landing stateside, pickled as a fish…too bad he’s allowed to dress himself now, what an abysmal suit he was wearing…”

Subtly glancing out of the corner of your eye you can see his exasperated expression, cheeks inflated as though he were caught in some extended inhale

“Betcha make the yummiest roast, doncha sugar” he suddenly drawls in perfect mimicry of Jones and you have to desperately press your fingers to your lips to smother your laugh. “How would you know what a good roast is, you squirrel eating bastard” his scathing blow delivered to his absent enemy is your undoing, a giggle slipping past your defences and quickly drawing his gaze

“Sorry, Johnny, sorry that was just a really funny one” you apologize quickly

He huffs in exasperation and you lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheek, feeling him relax slightly under your affection as he turns down your back lane

“I’ll grab the garage door” you insist quickly as he pulls into the driveway and can hear his protests even as you climb out of the car, but pay them no mind as you unlock and roll up the door, sliding back inside and he pulls in

You know Brady very well. Know that the instant you get inside his hands and his mouth will be all over you, focusing solely on your pleasure and there’s something about his reaction to Jones that makes you think he ought to be the centre of attention for however long he’ll let you get away with it

And trapping him in the car while you do it seems like the perfect place

No sooner has he put the car in park inside the garage than your lips are pressing against his, hand coming to rest on his thigh

“Sweetheart what are you-” he mumbles against your lips but you silence him by sliding your tongue along his as your hand moved to the apex of his thighs to announce your intentions as you massage his hardening length

He exhales sharply through his nose, breath caressing your cheek, but he’s not pushing you away

As the windshield grows dry, the wipers let out an aggravated noise at the friction and you feel him grope blindly behind you to kill the engine

Work his fly open as you shift to kneel on the bench seat beside him, mouth tracing along his jaw to what you can reach of his throat, more than a little annoyed at the interference of his shirt collar

“Out…here?!” He pants a little and you find your lips curling into a smirk against his skin, the sound of rain thundering on the garage roof filling the car

He makes as though to pull your mouth back to his for a kiss but you slip out of his grip to lean over his newly exposed cock, eyeing your prize a moment before taking him into your mouth to coax him to complete hardness

“God…goddamn..!” You hear his strangled curse from above and are only encouraged further as he rapidly stiffens against your tongue

His hand grips your hip as you begin to bob along him, his grunts and heavy exhales causing the humid windows of the car to cloud with condensation

You wish you could see his face - the way his eyebrows knit together in concentration when he’s trying to stave off his own pleasure for the sake of yours

But that’s not the point this time

Sliding the hand that isn’t stabilizing you against the car door to cup his remarkable balls, you gently begin to massage encouragingly, feeling him shudder

He’s pulling at your skirt, grabbing at the flesh of your ass once he’s located it, before shifting his fingers to slide along your folds over your underwear. It’s not enough to really achieve anything beyond expressing his appreciation, but you whimper nonetheless and he bites off a sharp ‘fuck’, fighting his hips’ innate desire to thrust

You can feel his lower abdomen twitching against your cheek, know he’s close by the way high-pitched keens have snuck into his exhales

“Sweetheart I’m…”

“Mmhmmm!” You hum around him and a string of curses tumble from his lips before he shouts your name as ropes of cum paint the back of your tongue and throat

Sit back on your heels as you swallow, drinking in his dazed expression, his head flung over the back of the seat

Lean in to cup his cheeks and feather tender kisses across his face

“That was…” he sighs

“To remind you just who gets to eat my roast” you grin and he lazily raises an eyebrow

“Are you propositioning me, sweetheart?”

#answered asks #ladies who brady #thinking brady thoughts #john brady #mota #masters of the air

[johnslittlespoon]

Pls more on Gsd bucky 🙏

oOO BABY. german shepherd/dog coded bucky is everything to me, i can't be normal about it, idk what's happened to me.

i am currently almost 2k words deep into a proper oneshot for this so i don't wanna get tooo in detail because i'm sure i'll cover it there but! here are some cute lil things!

the obvious: he's german shepherd coded because he's quick to bristle and become protective over the people he loves. he's literally like the guard dog at gale's side, all bark and bite, ever watchful. he'll happily curl up at the foot of gale's bed and keep watch all night, if that's what is needed of him.

shakes his head like a wet dog when he comes out of the showers, or on a day off at some nice lake, he purposefully walks over to where gale's laying to shake out his wet curls above him, canines glinting in the sun at the way gale swats at him, calls him a "damn dog!"

always bitey. bites gale's shoulders and arms as a sign of affection, even when they're around others because everyone just accepts that's john, no nefarious intent behind it, some of the others have probably fallen victim to his nips as well. likes to take gale's hand and bring it up to his mouth to gnaw at the joint of his wrist when he's antsy, or when they're bantering and he can't think of a retort.

translates to love bites on every inch of skin he can reach behind closed doors, leaving gale marked up anywhere that's deemed safe from prying eyes, dragging sharp teeth and nipping and tonguing and sucking until gale gets impatient with him, but they both love seeing the marks it leaves behind.

the biting also feeds his oral fixation, loves to gnaw on gale's fingers when he slides two between his lips before he flattens his tongue along them in apology, letting his eyelids go heavy, hollowing his cheeks out and playing nice. just has to get the energy out first, the excited nips and tugs, and then he goes obedient and gentle (or gale finds other ways to 'muzzle' him.)

probably gets very mopey and sulky and clingy when he's sick or hurt, like a dog that wants pity and attention, glued to gale's side (even more than he already normally is.) there's definitely been at least one occasion where he's crawled into gale's bed late at night, whining about his stomach hurting, rolling onto his back in a silent ask for a tummy rub or soft kisses trailed from sternum to belly button.

i will never get tired of talking ab this i swearrrr, i've just never seen a character so dog–coded and i'm gonna have such a hard time not letting this oneshot run into the five–digit–wordcount territory lol <3

#john egan is dog coded #<- for other posts on this subject lol #buck x bucky #buckbucky #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon spicy #johnslittlespoon asks