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#call of duty scenario
l0velylecter · 1 year
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how you met the cod:mwii men (vol.i)
— first encounters with the men of cod : mw ii, part 1
rating : m for mature and suggestive themes tags : kissing, making out, fluff, smut goes as far as giving head ( lol idk how to describe it besties, my bad ) pairing : f!reader / phillip graves ,  f!reader / alejandro vargas fandom : cod mwii warnings : cursing, suggestive themes, mdni (minors don’t interact)
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01| Phillip Graves
It started as a fling, of course — all it took was fifteen minutes of passive-aggressively telling him he should stop showing up unannounced, and suddenly he has you against a janitor's closet with his hand up your skirt. You felt his impatience bleed into his kisses: messy, uncoordinated, and almost desperate, Grave’s eagerness would have scared you off. Lucky for him, you think he fits cockiness like a glove ( as much as you did not want to admit it.)
Any thoughts of resisting for the sake of your pride and dignity were swept away by the heady rush of adrenaline brought only seconds before one realises they are about to have a quickie. The thought made you shiver in his arms. Noticing this, he grinned against your mouth, nipping your bottom lip before pulling away.
'What’s your name, baby ?'
You nearly rolled your eyes — you were even surprised he asked. Having just met the man twenty minutes ago, you can already guess that Graves was the type to 'fuck first and talk later.' And he clearly wasted no time, hoisting you up an open wardrobe and patting your waist with a, ' Open up for me, atta girl.’
Sure, his one-liners are cheesy as fuck, and someone needs to put him in his place, but the words always seem to come out of your throat as a desperate whine when his head disappears between your legs; it was one of the only ways to get him to shut up.
'Easy there.' He chuckled, nipping the inside of your thighs when they started to shake. It happened so fast, too fast — he had a hand across your mouth while the other helped his tongue drive you over the edge. Even in between breaths, he still finds a way to talk ( not that you mind the filth pushing past gritted teeth.)
‘C’mon baby, c’mon baby, c’mon baby — fuck.’
With your head thrown back and chest heaving, it did not even cross your mind that the asshole had pocketed your underwear until you were dressed and back behind your desk. The whiplash was enough to flush your entire face, barely keeping a straight composure when Shepherd stepped out of his office with Laswell in tow, the older man obliviously introducing you to Graves. Behind, Kate eyed your smudged lipstick suspiciously.
' And for God's sake Graves, will it kill you to make an appointment?'
You were hyper-aware of how your thighs were still wet. He noticed your discomfort; obviously, the asshole did — why else would Graves be so pleased with his response?
' I'll make sure to have your secretary's number then, sir.'
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02| Alejandro Vargas
The hero of Las Almas is what the people call Alejandro. They knew him as a soldier, a leader, and a beacon of hope. Yet, you knew Alejandro even before he joined the army; stripped off his badge and weapon, you will always see him as the man who courageously stepped in to save you from being robbed at gunpoint all those years ago. Who knew he eventually becomes colonel? While everyone talks about him with pride and adoration, you cannot help but feel hurt over the fact that: just like everyone else, you will have no choice but to admire him from afar.
' You barely even speak to the man.'
' He's way older than you ! '
' Pah! Please, put this energy somewhere else.'
Those are the few things the townspeople told you when they found out you had eyes on him, but can they blame you? And because his second in command guiltily cannot resist the scent of warm, freshly baked bread every morning on the way back to base from his morning patrol, you always volunteer for the six am shift — always racing down the stairs just in time to greet him with a smile.
' Buenos días, (name).'
Alejandro always says your name gently, as if he was especially pleased to see you. In order to not let the man feed into your delusions, you took a few seconds to brace yourself so that your 'good morning, colonel' does not shake.
You enjoy making small talk with him. In this scenario, conversations between the two of you usually consist of Alejandro asking you about your well-being and you nodding back in response — always too awed by his presence to respond. ( You even almost forgot Rodolfo had been waiting for you to give him his change back.)
The moment before he leaves to let you tend to the other customers is probably the most agonising fifteen seconds of your morning routine. You will watch in anticipation as Alejandro raises a hand behind his neck to act as if he wants to ask you a question, only to turn to his heels and wish you a good day. And as if you were a telenovela for the line of customers, your family, your neighbor, the local children, and the fruit sellers to watch, they will all throw their hands in the air and sigh in frustration.
Your mother once compared your crush on Alejandro to being in love with the sun. You cannot decide between laughing or crying.
Eventually, this continued until the city was torn apart by cartel members. Your family was lucky enough to survive the sudden wave of brutality, but the bakery was a wreck, and worse: your hero was nowhere to be seen. You were so sick with worry that the moment he knelt to help clean up the broken shards of glass, you had abandoned the dustpan to throw yourself into his arms — sobbing about how scared you were for him.
A laugh was pulled out of Alejandro as if he was surprised by how much you cared about him. Hands wiped your tears away, and he cooed above you, tucking your head under his chin with both his arms around you, ' Oh, cariño — come here.'
When Rodolfo arrives in tow with your family to clean up the rest of the mess, he quickly ushers them back out, ducking when Alejandro throws a nearby towel at him for interrupting what would have been your first and proper kiss together. ( He made up for it in the end.)
‘ You know, it’s the colonel who always insists that we get breakfast every morning. Not me. More than half a decade of eating the same breakfast every day, imagine that.’
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a/n: i hope the contrast between the two scenarios didn’t give you whiplash ( what happens when the howl’s moving castle soundtrack plays after the weeknd (o¬‿¬o ) ) anyways, i hope you enjoyed this ! <3 
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sheeple · 5 months
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More CoD thoughts!! This time medieval!au with concubine!König Warning(s): fem!reader (idk if that is a warning but good to know) / I canon (this) König as blond FIGHT ME pls don't / a mention of brushing hair (do I have to mention is? idk)
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So imagine you are an empress
And König is this colonel who has fallen from grace. He lost a battle or something which resulted in many men dead
And now he's on his knees in front of you, face downcast and awaiting your judgement
You're sitting up on your throne and watching the man, thinking deeply about what to do with him
Yes, he made a mistake and your people expect him to be punished for it. But you can't deny that he has been a great strategist
"Leave us", you order
Once everybody has left the throne room, you stand up and saunter down the stairs, dragging your skirts behind you
Circling the crouching man, you trace his shoulders
"Remove your helmet, colonel."
His hands falter for a moment before he reaches up and reveals his scared face
Light blue eyes look up at you as blond hair falls into them
Finding him way too handsome to kill, you give him a proposition
Be your war advisor disguised as a concubine
Because he needs to be 'punished' in the eyes of your subjects, but also all your war and army advisors haven't been on a battlefield for decades and are idiots
Your advisor of royal customs has also been pestering you about finding a husband or starting a harem (as you dismissed your father's concubines the moment you took over the throne)
Two birds with one stone
König hates the idea at first, but he knows it's better than being executed
But he realises once he is led to his chambers that maybe this isn't soooo bad
It's the first time in years that he sleeps on a decent bed and has quality food in his belly so he's not complaining
The first time König joins you in your strategy meetings, he scares the crap out of your advisors
I mean... the man is two metres tall, bulky and has scars all over his body
It also doesn't help that he is shirtless, so his battle scars are on full display
Every time one of your advisors says something stupid or something he doesn't agree with, König grunts/scoffs
It makes you turn your head towards him and he bows down to whisper in your ear what he has to say
10/10 times he's right
And your advisors quickly realise that the man knows what he's talking about, that he's not just a concubine that you keep bringing with you
They hate him
One thing that König has been dreading is being called to your chambers. He knows it is the job of a concubine to please his empress, but he was forced into this position
So, when he is called to your chambers one evening, he mentally prepares for the worst
Except, it's not like that
When he's let into your room by the royal guards, he finds you seated at a table set for two people with a beaming smile
You raise to your feet as König bows deeply
"Come, join me for supper."
He's sceptical at first, expecting a catch
But you reassure him with a laugh that you won't force him to do anything he's opposed and that it's just a dinner
You ask questions about his life in the army and where he grew up, about how his youth was
It becomes a daily ritual for the both of you
In the beginning, you have to invite him. But after a while, he makes his way to your chambers on his own. It evolves to you finding him already lounging around when you come back from your duties of the day
One day, he helps you undo your miraculously crafted hairdo and since then it has become something that he just does as you wait for the servants to set the table and bring the food out
You close your eyes content as König rakes a comb through your hair, working out the knots
Eventually, you and König feel the need to spend more time together
It goes from you reading in your private gardens and him swinging a sword around
To him joining you for your day whenever he can and acting like an unofficial bodyguard
He scares off any and everyone who he deems too close to his empress
I personally would be spooked if this two-metre-tall, scantly clad man loomed over the shoulder of the person I try to talk to
It's not long before König starts to develop feelings for you
He knows that it's wrong
But it's the way you're looking at him, treating him like an equal and laughing at his stupid jokes that make his heart flutter every time you do so
He snaps one day when you and him are in your gardens
You have your head resting on his thigh as you read out loud your book, your body fully relaxed in the warmth of the sun and the shade of the trees
König watches how the sun makes your eyes look magical
It makes the butterflies in his belly go on a rampage
Deciding he can't handle you being so close to him anymore, he excuses himself and flees to the safety of his room
It confuses you
But it breaks your heart when he doesn't join you for dinner anymore
You go over your interactions with him in your head, in search of anything that warrants this behaviour
The only time that you see him is when there is a war council, but he keeps quiet and doesn't interject any of your advisors and generals
Your mood sours the longer it goes on, genuinely scaring your servants and the lords
Their usually happy and chatty empress has transformed into a shell and slowly dulls in colour
You don't notice it until your lady-in-waiting suggests you take a break to your summer home for a couple of weeks
So, arrangements are made and your more breathable clothes are packed into trunks and placed on the carriages
You hesitate in front of König's door, not sure if you should ask him if he wants to come with
He has been ignoring you for a while now
So, decide against it and just leave
You sunbath and swim in the ocean all wearing thin, white summer dresses that turn see-through when wet
Your lady-in-waiting sits on the side, her feet in the water as she watches you
"Empress, may I speak freely?"
And after you nod her question makes you choke
"Does the imperial concubine not please you anymore?"
Meanwhile, back at the castle...
König is driving himself mad
He has to be close to you, even if it means to be an actual concubine
So imagine his surprise when he can't find you anywhere and a servant tells him you're at your summer palace
He immediately goes to grab a horse and hurries towards you
You're quite shocked to see a panicked könig arrive and stumble over his feet to get to you
He drops to his knees as you sit in the dining room, his head hanging in shame and chest rising rapidly
"Please...", he begs, "my foolish heart has been stolen by you and I can't live like this anymore. Please, my empress, I would do anything for just a smidge of affection from you. Just say it and it's yours. I'll steal the moon and stars for you. I'll... I'll be naked and ready for you every night to do with me as you please. Be an obedient concubine. Just please..."
You lay a hand on his cheek and the man whimpers as he looks up at you with tears in his eyes
"You foolish man."
You kiss him with all your might, stealing his breath away
"You were always more than just my concubine."
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🌟Ideas Dumping🌟
I have this idea in my head that won’t go away, I need to write it down so I won’t end up forget it. So, it’s about Captain Price & Y/N (and others as well) lay low in a safehouse. As everyone was doing their chores, Captain Price, with a comb in hand, called Y/N to sit down between his legs, whilst combing their hair & commenting that their hair is getting long. Captain Price combing their hair is a comfort thing that his cigars can’t provide.
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stinglesswasp · 9 months
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Ghost and Soap holding hands and drinking coconut water at the beach 🥥🏖
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months
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The Type of BF/GF Cod Characters Would Be (Scenario)
You know, like that one thing circling around TikTok
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Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.
And yes I'm aware that some have repeated characters, some fit more than one
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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A/n: I'm honestly on a roll and I've had my morning coffee so I'll start cracking, I have been trying to post more recently since it's October and I didn't really partake in the tober fests so I thought posting more might be good. Just me or are biker fucking hot? Yeah it's probs my thing for masked men.
Disclaimers/Warnings: OOC??
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Doberman Boyfriend/Girlfriend whose first instinct was to protect you when you officially became theirs, initially they were always protective in subtle ways, subtle ways that also assert dominance over others. Little things like having a hand on your lower back or gently gripping your waist to move you. Their claimed spot is behind you, since they always find it to work when intimidating others and making sure no one even glances at you the wrong way. Might seem like they're intimidating but to you it's a different story, they're sweeter, more docile? Just far more affectionate and you basically have them wrapped around your finger. Switches in the bedroom but dom leaning, can be subs if you want them to be.
Characters: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves.
Golden Retriever Boyfriend/Girlfriend who are so loyal to the bone, they're fun and oftentimes a little himbo-ish? Quality is the best spent with you, kind of follows you around all the time. They're very clingy but do respect your personal space if you aren't in the mood, though that's what you love about them isn't it? That's they're insistent and wouldn't give up on you no matter what. Also love doing things for you (acts of service) and lives for it when you praise them. Switches in the bedroom, sub leaning.
Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
Tabby cat Boyfriend/Girlfriend whose chill around others but absolutely craves your affection behind closed doors. The kind of people sometimes randomly show affection in front of others even if they HATE pda. The kind of people who have been traumatized yet still affectionate as can be, everyone loves them for being down to earth but they do have bit of an odd side that only you see. Is a hardcore switch, no leaning.
Characters: Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.
Black cat Boyfriend/Girlfriend who randomly bring home things that made them think of you, they knew you'd like it but only let out a subtle smirk. Lives for you being their adorable little sunshine, mean and cold towards other but less with you. Tried to give you tough love but eventually gave in because you are you. You know how cats sometimes bring you dead animals as a proof of affection and acceptance, they've done that... only with a human head of course. Providing for you and making sure you're taken care of is their love language, very protective and can really hurt people if they wanted to, someone hurts or upsets you? Their head will be displayed on your front porch. Hardcore doms in the bedroom. (Yandere AU anyone??)
Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves.
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zoruxsblog · 2 months
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Laswell : how was your sleep last night y/n
Y/n, who spent their whole night listening to Ghost's dad jokes : ...good
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yandere-sins · 7 months
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Cupcake
Okay I will admit I've been soft-yandere yearning for a while now, but it's my birthday and I deserved them!! There’s nothing better than some self-indulgent fanfiction (;
Fandom: Call of Duty Characters: Yandere!Ghost x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Mentions of Punishments/Kidnapping, Forced Relationship, Emotional Distress
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You didn't react to the sound of boots on concrete floor or the lock of the door clicking, hinges squeaking as someone entered the room.
Giving him attention was pointless.
You knew too little about him to get under his skin with words alone. Every bicker seemed to bounce off his broad chest with so much strength, it hit you right back in your face. You could never keep your arguments from sounding like childish complaints, and he chuckled at anything as direct as "I hate you!"
Instead, this man—"Ghost" you reckoned he called himself—seemed to bask in every minute of your putrid hatred. You could always assume the wisp of a smile beneath his mask, his eyes searching for yours no matter how much you glared at him. He possessed no inhibitions whatsoever, pushing, pulling, throwing you wherever he wanted, when he wanted, and not always gently mind you.
Yet, he pulled off his gloves before touching you, wiping the tears from your eyes and cheeks while he told you to stop crying now. That everything was okay and you shouldn't ruin your pretty face. He squeezed into the bed with you—the mattress too small for him alone, a coffin for both of you—shielding your body with his from the door so neither friend nor foe would see you first if they came inside.
Ghost made sure to top off your food with the ingredients you liked from his own plate when you were visibly upset. And on the nights when you were unconsolable, he pulled you on top of his chest despite the struggles, resting your head above his heart while he played with your hair or held your hand, intertwining your fingers.
It was hard to say what was going on in that man's head. His eyes spoke of wonders you couldn't see, but his punishments were so severe, so unforgiving as if you had personally harmed him in another life. You could be glad that you could still count ten fingers on your hands and ten toes on your feet, seeing how his mood shifted unpredictably at any moment you two were together.
So, it was best not to acknowledge him.
Even when everything inside you screamed profanities at this bastard, you tempered yourself with deep breaths. A deep inhale through the nose, and a long exhale through the mouth. Deep in, long out. Deep in, and a long breath out...
Zing.
The unique sound of a zippo reached your ear despite your meditation having been able to fade out his presence behind you. This sound was unexpected, new. Ghost and new impressions combined as well as fire and gasoline, so this was scary. You didn't know if he picked up a smoking habit or would burn you just from the sound alone.
You couldn't help the rather violent reaction to the fear that snapped your muscles tight. Jumping into action, you threw the blanket you had wrapped around yourself away, sliding into the farthest corner away from him. Your eyes widened as you took in the view in front of you, time coming to a brief halt as you mustered the absolute unit of a man in front of you holding a... cupcake.
Blue wrapping, yellow icing, and a flickering candle on top.
Ghost snapped the zippo shut after he had waited out your reaction, his shoulders relaxing after he concluded you wouldn't do something stupid. You had just been surprised. He let the silver square sink into his right pocket while the small flame illuminated his mask in a warm yet even more spooky way than it always was.
"Happy Birthday," he said, tearing you out of your state of shock. Your gaze jumped from the mismatched-colored cupcake to his eyes that rested on you, full of that disgusting, heart-wrenching adoration he harbored for you. Things were calm, too calm. Ghost was too relaxed, only holding the cupcake and not a weapon or anything remotely dangerous in his other hand. You couldn't trust the peace. Couldn't rely on his words or the actions you were seeing.
"Wait, what?" it suddenly hit you, your eyes widening. "Is it... Is it really my birthday?"
Prying your eyes off your captor, you looked to your right, to the small table across from the bed where Ghost had hung up a calendar for you. He'd been crossing off days diligently for you since you couldn't be bothered to keep up with the task on some days, Ghost knowing that time seemed to pass you by in weird intervals without a window in your room. And he was right. Damn.
Taking another step toward you, you didn't cower away, letting your guard down as you breathed out heavily. That meant you had vanished from the face of the earth for months now. No one would come looking for you anymore; the hope of your survival and return would have been smashed. What a depressing thought on your birthday, your family and friends surely heartbroken about your absence, just like you were.
The bed creaked as Ghost sat down, his weight shifting the mattress in a way that made you aware of his closeness. You collected your legs, keeping them away from him to not give him any chance of quickly grabbing you. But when Ghost held out his hand, it was filled by the cupcake stretched towards you, and he handed it over without another word.
Your eyes flicked back and forth between his and the pastry, but hesitantly, you picked it up, feeling the squishiness of it, a sweet smell drafting into your nose. The warmth of the ficker licked at your skin as you held the cupcake in front of you. So small yet so thoughtful. You thought a whole lot about this psycho, but to think he'd remember your birthday when not even you did? You couldn't even remember when you told him the date, much less expected him to prepare something for you.
Not like there was anyone else who'd care about it now.
Immediately, tears shot into your eyes as you realized you were truly alone. No one would come to save you, and nothing would change unless you could win against your captor. Even when he was with you, you were still alone. And even when you blew out the candle, wishing for these things to change, you knew the wish was wasted.
Sniffling, you bit into the cupcake, frosting getting stuck on your nose and lips, but you didn't care. Sugary sweet and buttery, the taste of homemade cupcakes like your mother would have made them coated your tongue and teeth, remaining there even when you swallowed, bitterness clogging your throat while the delicious treat produced enough serotonin to jump in joy.
You managed to devour half of it before the tears and stuffy nose caught up with you. Even your free hand couldn't wipe away all these emotions overrunning you. Fear, pain, hopelessness. The feeling of being stuck here and so, so alone. It needed two more hands, big, calloused, and warm, to gently hold your face between them, wiping relentlessly while hushing you softly.
"It's alright, darling," Ghost murmured, his voice invading your brain that couldn't detect all these phantom pains you were feeling but soothed them regardless. "I'm here. Everything will be okay, sweetheart."
It certainly wasn't what you wanted to hear, but it did the trick, keeping you from the panic attack that slowly built inside you. Wiping your nose with your sleeve, you took another bite, sniffling and with tears falling relentlessly still. But Ghost's hands never disappeared. Instead, his thumb began to wander, brushing off crumbs as you devoured the rest of your treat, leaving nothing of this kind gesture for him as you were unwilling to share what little happiness you had been given.
Crumpling up the paper around the blown-out candle, you threw the trash away, finally having both hands free to wipe your own face and get a grip on yourself, your vulnerable side having come out shamefully. But even when you pushed away his hands, Ghost's presence right next to you didn't vanish, his body now much closer than before.
"Happy Birthday," he said again, gripping your shoulders. You huffed lightly, feeling exhausted after your cry, but before you could react, the sudden feeling of lips against yours threw you off.
You hadn't even noticed him pulling up his mask to reveal his mouth, lips more greedy and desperate than ever finding yours. Teeth and tongue played and nibbled, not so gently asking for entrance, and you... gave up. You had no strength to resist. Play a game you were bound to lose anyway, Ghost always cheating. And immediately, feeling your surrender, his hands slid back to your face, cupping your cheeks so he could deepen the kiss.
It didn't help. Didn't soothe the aches in your heart and didn't make the tears stop, but the intrusion of his tongue and the sweet taste now coating it distracted your thoughts. Ghost seemed to try to tell you that no, you weren't alone. You'd never be. He'd always be with you like he swore up and down. He'd protect you, take care of you, and love you.
Kidnapping, locking you away, and forcing you to do what he wanted didn't exactly scream protection, care, and love to you. But an annoying, nagging voice started to speak up in the back of your mind. He wasn't wrong. As long as you had to endure this horrific living arrangement, he'd be with you. He didn't leave you alone, didn't forget your birthday. You doubted even that he spent a single moment of downtime without the thought of you on his mind, considering how obsessed he was.
It would never be enough to satisfy you, though.
There was no way he could ever mean enough to you to make you love him. You'd never forgive him, never submit to him fully, body and soul. But at least on that day, the day that grieved you so—a joyous occasion turned bittersweet by your suffering—you weren't alone. He was there with you. He cared. Did he care enough?
"You're not going to sing for me?" you asked him, half-joking, half-challenging.
Ghost mustered you for a long moment, then you heard him huff, amused. He shook his head before pulling you towards him. You allowed it, no strength left to struggle. "Only because it's your birthday," he reminded you, and you caught the corners of your mouth turning upwards before you reminded yourself not to be amused by his banter.
His heartbeat was calm and gentle, nothing like the things you knew he could do to you. Ghost turned you both over until he could climb into bed with you, laying you down on your side, facing him and not spooning you like usual. It was a tight squeeze, but with his arms around you, face nuzzled into his chest, it was warm and comforting. Safe—for now.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to you.
You almost didn't want to believe him when he began to sing, keeping his voice low. Ghost never wanted to rourse the suspicion of anyone else that possibly lived next door to you. His gruff voice didn't really fit the upbeat song, even with his accent tingling on every word. This time, you couldn't help but grin at the absurdity of the situation, but you listened, regardless, while being held in his arms as if you were meant to be there.
Happy Birthday dear darling.
Wearily, you closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat mixing with his voice. The man you hated the most was holding you and singing to you as if it was the most normal thing in the world. As if it was meant to be this way all along, almost making you forget the pain and suffering he had caused you in the past. But when he held you like a rare treasure, fulfilled your wishes, and went out of his way to care for you, you almost believed his version of love to be true. You almost started to believe the many times he said he was doing all of this for one reason only: "I love you."
Maybe he did.
Happy Birthday to you.
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nrdmssgs · 10 months
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Dom König scenario
Masterlist
Ok, we had him soft and obedient, how about his other side? Because you don't call someone the King, if they are just tender little angels. Smut under cut.
You were sure, it was you, who actually initiated this all: after months of silent yearning, back and forth dynamics, pinning and practically burning alive with desire you ended up in his hands, your lips pressed against his in desperate attempt to put an end to this slow torture in any possible way: be it with or without him.
He doesn't answer on your kiss, doesn't flinch or frown. Just sits there with a half smile and looks down on you, not breaking the eye contact for a single moment.
Little did you know, you were never in charge. Every interaction, every smallest chat, every stolen smile, lingering gaze - it was all orchestrated.
König loved the good old hunt, thrived on the outrageous hopelessness with which his prey, without realizing it, rushed towards him. Tinkered little traps, mislead, confused, threaded illusions of one-sided hunger to drive you to absolute desperation for him.
He may have always been the quiet one, but one needs not many words, when he can get anything with the slightest brush of fingers, or an 'occasional' eye contact (and of course he squinted and tilted his head slightly to one side, not because he knew what it does to you).
König gradually let you closer and closer. Tricked you into believing that you're the one who's so fearless to fall for him: a living weapon of mass destruction. An absolute menace, turning friendly and smiling around you.
Little did you know, poor thing, little did you know... Until the trap was shut.
His hands barely touch your waist as if he was protecting you from falling off his lap, he doesn't try to pull you closer. You understand, that it is the end of you: he didn't react to your touch, kept silent, his heart was still and calm.
Blush washes over your face. "I'm sorry, König. Oh fuck, this is embarrassing. I didn't mean to... No, I actually meant, but not that. Sorry, I better shut up and leave you be. I promise, this won't happen ever again."
Your babbling amuses him. No, he doesn't want to harm your feelings or bully you, he knows exactly, what is going to happen very soon, but he can't help but indulge in those last moments of your alleged freedom.
It's when you try to pull away, you feel his hands clasp around your waist. "Who said, I don't want this to happen again?" His voice is quiet, lower than usual. Like honey from the Tyrolean forests, it covers your mind with a thick golden veil of lust.
You can't think straight, can't believe your own ears, and yet you dare not resist when he pulls you closer, letting you touch his lips again. Another lingering kiss.
But this time his smile widens. "Nochmal*," he purrs and lets out a low chuckle, when he sees your puzzled expression.
Don't worry, he will make sure you have enough opportunities to learn every single phrase, he might want you to understand and use on your own. He won't translate anything to you though - showing is always better than telling!
So he lets you kiss him once more. "Nochmal". And again. "Nochmal". And again... Till his tongue lazily rolls past your lips.
He tastes you like the most precious drink. Sip after sip, until you lay beneath him, trembling of need.
"My little sunshine, bearing so much love for me... Was it hard to dream of my touch every other night? Did it hurt, when you clenched around your thin, fragile fingers, fantasizing, how good can I make you feel in comparison?" You can't tell if he is genuinely concerned or just loves to fluster you that much.
And don't you even think to look away for a moment, to take a break and collect your thoughts - he'll grab your face while kissing you only to make his point: eyes on him until he commands otherwise.
Yes, commands come too pretty quickly in your life. But how can he possibly resist, when you're so eager to do anything, he lets you doing?
"You may moan into my mouth, meine Süße*, I don't mind some music*" While his fingers are knuckle deep in you. And moan do you, his sweet obedient angel.
He doesn't rush anything and more than happy to please you with his fingers and tongue first couple of times. This may come off as pretty humble, but he in fact just waits, till you are desperate enough to beg him to fuck you properly.
Poor thing too desperate, flustered and overwhelmed... Of course, he would fuck you absolutely incoherent if you ask nicely. He has such a soft spot for your wet eyes, he'd make you go limp, your eyes rolling back, little whimpers leaving your lips with every thrust, as he holds your hips tightly picking up the pace. Fucking your fears and anxieties away. Making you feel high.
Lots of reassurance, praise and confessions. Constantly. Even in the most extreme moments. "Who are you, little sunshine?" "Your fucktoy." "...and?" "Your treasure..." "Gu-u-u-utes Mädchen*... and?" "Love of your life?" "Liebe meines Lebens*."
*Nochmal - once again *meine Süße - my sweet one *Gu-u-u-utes Mädchen - go-o-o-od girl *Liebe meines Lebens - love of my life
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alwaysshallow · 8 months
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price and you..... serving at the same time, you're by his side 24/7 as partners, obviously? everyone jokes about you being close because you're 100% "fucking each other", but that doesn't cross your or his mind. you're just brushing it off, obviously, laughing a bit. it's pure, you trust each other.
it's like this until he sees you in a dress when you're both going undercover. he pretends it's nothing, he acts his role perfectly, you get intel. you go back to your hotel room, mission went perfect, but his eyes are somewhere else than bed; your cleavage.
it's the first time he sees you like this, you realize. like a man sees a woman, not a comrade, not a partner in crime. it's the way his eyes go up and down, satisfied with the view. you blush.
"you're staring" it makes him chuckle.
his pupils would be so dilated.
"i know" he says, emptying his glass of water.
and next thing you know, after a little banter, after teasing him a bit, you are with him on bed, kissing, he's so eager:( and he just pulls up your dress:( makes his way to your panties, his calloused tips teasing the material. price eats your pussy like crazy, whispering how good you are for him. he's not reacting at your pleas to slow down, the man is eating.
he asks himself how he didn't notice you earlier, and after he makes you come twice, he fucks the shit out of you to make up for the lost time.
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l0velylecter · 1 year
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can i request headcannons for könig + 141 x reader! who is not in the military? maybe something like they are into arts, wants to live in cottage, have big family? i feel like it would be the opposite of the boys lol
— the men of 141 & könig + a civilian s/o !  characters : simon ‘ghost’ riley, john ‘soap’ mactavish, captain john price, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick, könig  fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii tags : gn!reader, headcanons, some mild characterisation for the reader as i’ll put them into civlian professions / give them hobbies and interests  rating : t for teen and up audiences , sfw!
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01| If there was one word to describe Soap was that he's supportive. There was the initial worry that he wouldn't enjoy your lifestyle, that you'd be too different from one another. Yet, it doesn't matter to Johnny, even if he doesn't quite understand it. He's the type to enjoy anything his partner likes as long as it makes them happy. So it doesn't matter how busy he gets, he'd always be on the front row of your music recitals, urging the crowd to give standing ovations. And when you take him to museums to see paintings of Rembrandt or Vermeer, he tries his best to listen to every word you say, focused on how your eyes light up with passion. You also enjoy reading to him, running your hand against his scalp as he drifts off to sleep. 
02|  He had doubts about having a life outside the military, most days, Price felt more like a weapon than a man, a loaded gun ready to be recoiled and fired. After years of grueling fights and endless violence, it's hard to picture himself living a quiet and peaceful life. Yet, coming home to you gave him just that. You were both busy, so you would spend months and sometimes even a year apart. Yet the moment he comes home, he'd be all over you — following you around as you roamed your walk-in closet, undressing by the vanity table as he watched in quiet admiration. Once, when you were dozing off against his shoulder, you confessed to dreaming of having a big family. Of children's laughter ringing down the halls and sending them off to school every day. You didn't expect Price to cling to those words. " Someday," He mused, " Someday, love." He was wishful despite everything. And hope suits him. (Husband material, you once complimented, and he got too attached to the word.) 
03| To Gaz, it doesn't matter what you'd be doing as long as you were together. All he wanted was to spend time with you, especially when moments were rare. And so he tries to keep up with your shopping, with all the bags dangling off his arms, taking you out might as well be an endurance test. Although, it does make him happy to see you show off your new bag, clothes, and shoes: nodding along as you explain the design. He'd be cleaning his gun, and you'd be on the other side painting your nails, the scene almost comical. He leaves the bathroom door open so he can still talk to you every morning. Afterward, he'd take the time to drive you to work, hand on your thigh lovingly as he soaks in the joy of doing ordinary, mundane tasks.  04| Dressed head to toe in black, all the farm animals crowded Ghost curiously, and while Simon looked terribly out of place against the lush, green stretch of pasture, the sight was enough to make you laugh. And you were sure he also enjoyed living in the countryside, even with you scolding him every hour about leaving his weapons around the cottage. (You nearly cut a basket of apples with his combat knives, dropping them when you realized where they've been.) If he's not helping you collect eggs from the chicken coop ( returning with a head full of feathers ), he's dozing off by the persimmon tree, the only time you've seen him this close to relaxing. Away from all the commotion and in isolation from any unwanted company, your life was a haven he finally lets himself indulge in, a sanctuary that reminds him to look after himself after every time he fights.  05| At times, König confesses to you that your entire relationship feels like a fevered dream, a silly fantasy he's conjured up in his head because he still cannot believe he's dating you. You assured him that you weren't that big of a celebrity, and he corrected you by pointing out your face on the billboard outside your apartment. He's flattered by all the gifts you spoil him with daily, somewhat flustered as you present to him a tactical watch that probably costs more than a car. Your lifestyles should have been impossible to co-exist side by side, especially when König does not want and cannot afford all of the attention you get on the daily. But apparently, being 6'10 in a balaclava means he doesn't mind being your bodyguard. Most of the time, it was enough to give you the privacy you both wanted, and it still awes him every time he sees you on the television, even on duty, halfway across the world; chuckling to himself when his teammates would point out how beautiful you were — if only they knew.
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a/n : hi anon ! thank you for requesting, to be honest, i’ve been dying for someone to request this because i do love me some civilian x cod men content. i didn’t want to add too much specific details as i want to make it as open as possible for everyone to interpret ( i read somewhere that when reader! fics are too specific it ruins the fun because it seems very oc so i’m being very careful to be inclusive <3 ) i hope you enjoy it ! thank you again for the fun idea, hope it lives up to your expectations 💖  additional hc :  → könig probably steals simon’s look and also goes out in a balaclava, simon’s heated and low-key offended ( don’t worry Si, you’re still the og trendsetter )
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sheeple · 4 months
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Continuing from this Supersoldier!Reader hc I did a while back. Again, it's half-baked and I thought of it while walking my dogs.
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The rain beats down on the umbrella above you as you stand before the grave. It's weird seeing your own name carved out of stone. At least they got your date of birth correct.
You wonder if they buried an empty coffin. Or that they scraped up what they thought were your remains.
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight and you know that you've got company. You tilt your head to the side, not bothering to look at them. "I like the font you choose."
There is a scoff, and he goes to stand next to you. "So, Soap and Gaz were right. You're alive."
You hum. Your fingers tighten around the handle of the umbrella.
"And working for KorTac." It's said harshly. Rightly so. You glance up at the captain. His eyes are trained on the gravestone, a solemn look on his face. "If you wanted a transfer, you could have just said so…"
There is humour in his voice that doesn't meet his eyes.
Your lips part, not knowing what to say. "Nobody ever gave me a grave. Nobody cared enough to do so. But I guess that's what comes with being a government experiment." You're back staring at the gravestone.
The two of you stand next to each other in silence. Until Price finally asks the question all of them want to know. "Why did you leave us?"
Your breath hitches. You hesitate for a moment to tell the truth. But they deserve it. "The British government sold me to KorTac."
Another person approaches the two of you from the front, looming over you. Price hums, slowly nodding. He lays a hand on your shoulder while looking at your handler. "Colonel, keep our girl safe."
And with that, he walks away.
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temeyes · 1 month
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nah your small doodli booblies came in my dream as minions and they were eating bananas😭
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may the 141 minions haunt you every night
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bonus Price as Gru,,,,,,, AHSHASHAHSH
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writerpetals · 6 months
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view from 4-B | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
w; exhibitionism, voyeurism, pillow humping, unprotected sex that is just a fantasy that i hope you find as hot as i did when i wrote this hehe finally had time to edit and repost this story ;_;
He never realized you knew he was there when he watched you. As if you would have left your bedroom blinds open, lights on and shining bright, for any other reason. As if you hadn’t been attracted to him the first day you saw him moving into the apartment building next to yours. As if you were trying to hide from all the nights you touched yourself, blinds open, lights on, naked on the bed hidden only behind an expression full of pleasure that heightened when you knew he could see.
The first night was nothing more than a test. You spotted him in his apartment, the warm glow of a lamp in the living room illuminating him. When you flicked your lights on, out of the corner of your eye you saw his gaze shift towards you as he paused.
Perfect.
You turned your lights off after closing your blinds a moment later, knowing he knew you were there and allowing him to realize he had the perfect view. The buildings were close enough to only have him as an audience thanks to being on the top floor, yet not too close to where a simple glance or shift of your eyes would tell him you knew he was spying. 
Two nights later you left your lights on for longer. You could feel his eyes on your body as you undressed. You didn’t have to glance at him to know he was studying every curve of your skin as you peeled your shirt over your head, followed by the yoga shorts you went running in just minutes before. You didn’t need to look his way to know his eyes were glued to you as you turned your back to him before unhooking your bra, and then making your way to the adjoined bathroom to take a shower.
The light in his living room was turned off by the time you came out of the steaming bathroom, towel wrapped around your body and disappointment in your face when you noticed his blinds shut. Maybe he felt guilty, or maybe he was turning down the temptation.
It didn’t take long to gain his full interest a week later. The first night you decided to walk around your room completely bare was the night he didn’t close his blinds. A quick turn of your head to see his eyes on you was enough to encourage you to go all the way. You seemed unsuspecting, and he should have given you enough credit to know you could tell he was watching, but you liked the rush of him thinking he was getting away with it.
You laid down on your bed, back against the mattress, slipping a hand between your thighs. He could only see your breasts thanks to a hiked knee covering everything else, but they were fully exposed as you toyed with your hardening nipples and it was enough to have you reaching your peak in no time. Having him watch you get off had your entire body tingling when you thought about it the next day. You couldn’t convince yourself you wouldn’t try again, and you couldn’t talk yourself out of going further while giving him a full show.
That was when you decided you would do something a little riskier the next time around. Fully bare once again, blinds open, you began teasing yourself as you sat on your knees on the bed. You already knew he was focused on you. It was as if he wasn’t hiding it anymore, but you didn’t look his way regardless.
Your hands ran over your breasts, pinching and pulling your nipples until your head lolled back and your jaw slacked. You went farther, dipping a hand between your thighs to find yourself already wet from putting on your show. You wished he could hear your moans with your fingertips pressed to your clit, rubbing slow circles to get you warmed up enough. More than that, you wished you could hear the noises he would make, as well as have his hands on your body, fingers between your thighs to pleasure you.
You knew you had to be patient, dismissing the idea for another time once you removed your hands from your body, instead reaching for a pillow near the headboard. You quickly folded it in half while casually glancing his way as you brushed loose strands of hair from your face to seem oblivious, with your eyes half-lidded. You could only guess what was running through his mind when you placed the pillow between your legs, pressing down to feel the cool silk against your warm folds.
You couldn’t help but to moan when you began moving your hips, hoping he was watching closely, hoping he would think about it later when he was alone and touching himself. You tossed your head back, getting lost in the moment, grinding your clit against the red, silk pillowcase while imagining him in your mind doing unspeakable things to your body. Your hands ran along your torso, finding your breasts to squeeze and caress, with your hips moving faster each second, whimpers of his name spilling from your lips.
When the pleasure started to swell between your thighs, your whimpers and moans fell short, replaced by gasps of air until you were overwhelmed with bliss. Your hips started to slow, thighs tightening around the pillow, toes curling, jaw slacking, until your body bent forward, palms pressing against the mattress to ease yourself to the bed.
You laid there limp, a sheen of sweat glistening over your skin, knowing he had watched every second of it, knowing you wouldn’t have come half as hard if he hadn’t. His eyes on you were the only thing getting you off lately, and sometimes you were tempted to walk over to his apartment and thank him for it.
However, the next day when you’re a minute away from heading out of your apartment for a run, a sudden, urgent knock on your door has you pausing while putting your buds in your ear. Instead, you set your things against the coffee table to make your way through the kitchen to answer the knocks.
“Um, hi.”
Hearing his voice for the first time, already half knowing it was him before you answered the door, sent goosebumps spreading across your skin. It was deeper than you imagined, yet his tone softer, almost as if he was incredibly nervous, or shy. Of course it couldn’t be hard to pint point the exact apartment you live in considering all the time he’s spent so far watching you. The apartment buildings aren’t that big to begin with.
“Hi…” You tilt your head, flashing him a confused look with your brows creased. You know why he is there, and the reason has your heart racing. 
“I’m, uh,” he stutter, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, eyes falling to his feet as he tells you his name.
You already knew that thanks to one of his friends yelling his name from across the street on the day he moved in. You nod, trying to hide your smirk when you realize he actually is a nervous, stuttering, gulping mess before you, telling him your name in return. 
“Can I help you with something?” He bites his lip at the sound of you repeating his name, causing warmth to surge between your thighs. He doesn’t even realize how much power you have over him already, feigning innocence before him with a curious tone and clueless expression. 
“I just wanted to introduce myself.” He can’t look you in the eyes as he shifts his weight from foot to foot before you, with your head still tilted to one side, looking up at him with a grin, arms folded just beneath your breasts. “Sorry, I see you were about to head out. I should go.”
You don’t stop him. Instead, your grin widens, before watching him turn to head down the hall. “If you do need something,” you begin, making him stop in his tracks for a glance over his shoulder, “don’t hesitate to let me know.”
Hidden meanings drip from every word, and from the way he inhales a sharp breath before nodding, you know he realizes he is in over his head. 
You don’t leave your blinds open for his viewing pleasure that night. You know once you have him hooked he will be yours to play with for as long as you want. You just need him to realize what a deliciously sinful thing he has, and without the view of you naked and pleasuring yourself he will either go crazy, or finally act on his desires.
A few nights pass, but you don’t worry. You keep the view blocked by shades and dim lights when you touch yourself, thinking of all the things you are going to do to him when he finally sees how much he wants you. Even if the pleasure isn't as great when he doesn't watch, you have to be patient as well.
It takes three whole nights of failing to offer him the view for him to come knocking on your door mid-afternoon, causing you to answer after you have just got out of the shower.
You greet him after a few light knocks on your door, hair wrapped in a towel and a robe wrapped around your body. “Hi.” You can't stop your cheeks from flushing at the sight of him.
Finally getting to see him before you, cap on backwards keeping his hair from his eyes, a shy grin on his lips, a loose fitting, gray tank not hiding his delicious looking collarbones, and even baggier gym shorts, has its affect on you. It doesn't take you long to realize he isn't the only one suffering without a view. You have gone four days without seeing him in his apartment as well with barely any clothes on, sweating, panting while doing some form of work out, carding his fingers through his damp hair. You would be lying if you said you didn't miss it.
“Hey,” he exhales his half-embarrassed hello, rubbing the back of his neck just like he did the previous time. Except now he has a paper plate with foil securing its contents in the other hand. “I, um, brought you something.” He has a hard time keeping his eyes on yours, every second more and more tempted to take in the sight of you standing before him in nothing but a bathrobe.
You can't contain a giggle. “You did?” You eagerly reach for his gift as he hands you the plate, peeling back the crumpled foil to reveal tasty looking treats. “Lemon squares?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles as if he immediately regrets the decision. His cheeks flush once he continues. “I have a friend that likes to cook, and well, I just wanted to bring you something since I just moved in across the street. One apartment building over.”
Your brows crease at his words. “Wouldn't your actual neighbors be better suited for this?” You giggle, letting him think he was being smooth when you already knew when and where he moved in, along with his perfect view of your bedroom. “And aren't they the ones that should be giving you a housewarming gift?” 
“Yeah, it was a stupid idea.” He lowers his voice as well as his head. “Sorry.”
“No!” You nearly shout when he begins to turn away from you. “It's sweet. Thank you.” You aren’t lying. It’s hard to ignore the flutter in your chest at his adorable gesture. Even if you both know he’s only looking for any little excuse to stop by.
“No problem.” His grin is so boyish and bashful, causing the warmth to swell between your thighs at just how shy this man is.
“Do you want to come in?” In all his blushing and in all of your playing oblivious, you forgot to be polite enough to invite him in, stepping to the side a second after you ask.
“Oh, I wasn’t interrupting anything?” His gaze finally lowers down your body, unashamed for the first time and getting an eyeful of your fresh-out-of-the-shower attire. 
“Nope,” you assure him, grinning as he walks past you before shutting the door behind him. You peel the towel from your head, trying to regain some of your image and not look so ridiculous, even though he has seen you completely bare and vulnerable time and time again. “So…” His name lingers on your lips in drawn out syllables as he takes a seat on a barstool, situating himself with his elbows propped up on the island counter in your kitchen.
“Hm?” You have his full attention while you grab a lemon square from the plate, slowly taking a bite as you stand on the opposite side of the counter. The way his eyes widened and lips part have you stifling your giggle as you chew the treat and lick your lips once you swallow.
“Please tell your friend he bakes well.” After a second, he nods, your words pulling him of the daydreams you only imagine him having as he stares at you. “So, how are you liking the view?” The question, while innocent in nature, has too much hidden meaning within each word, causing him to gulp, blink repeatedly, and mumble while shrugging his shoulders.
“Th-the v-view?” You can practically hear his heart hammering away inside his chest, thinking you are asking about the perfect view into your bedroom, but when you nod, lips pursed, and hum an “mhm”, his tense body relaxes just a little.
“That apartment building has a killer view of the city, if you’re lucky enough to snag yourself a room good enough.” You lean forward, arms beneath your breasts, elbows against the counter as you speak, not caring if your robe just so happens to fall open enough to get a better view of your cleavage. Watching him nearly squirm in his seat was more satisfaction than you needed. 
“Oh, um,” he hesitates, running a hand over the nape of his neck, “my apartment is on the opposite side. Right across… from… you.” It was clear he caught himself mid-sentence, spilling away his dirty secrets, letting you know he has a better view than the city, but you only nod, not showing signs of any hints that you had caught on to what he was implying. 
“Oh, too bad you don't have a nice view then.” His awkward, shy grin on his lips tells you he assums you haven't a clue. “Listen, I have to get ready for my shift at work. It was nice seeing you.”
With that, he is already nervously slipping from his seat at the counter. “Sure, me too.” His hand brushes over the back of his neck once again, realizing you find his shy habits adorable. 
“Thanks for the gift,” you chuckle as you walk him out, pulling the door to you before he steps into the hallway, watching him nod while lingering for a moment. “Oh, hey?” You call his name one last time, watching him perk up, brows raised, eyes wide.
“Yes?” You can't help the way your lips curl in a grin, knowing how you have teased him, feigning innocence the entire time while dropping subtle hint after hint about him watching you.
“I'll see you later.”
The exhausting shift at your job has taken its toll on your body, proving that being on your feet all night serving tables left you with nothing but achy legs, sore feet, and heavy steps as you make your way to your shower. The warm water cascading down your body relaxes you enough to ease the pains in your muscles, and when you step out to wrap nothing more than a towel around your body, you are all ready to snuggle up in bed.
However, after his visit earlier in the day, you know he won’t remain patient for long, causing you to make sure to pull the chain to your blinds once you make it to your bedroom, the vertical panels opening up to allow you to set your eyes on that neighbor of yours in his living room. The lights offer a warm glow against his skin as you take in the sight of him bare chested, hair messily combed back, sweat pants hanging loose from his hips, and an intense focus in his eyes as he works out. The way your heart flutters in your chest only tells you how much you missed the sight.
You linger near the window a moment, not realizing you are biting down on your bottom lip, teeth sinking into skin while watching him move, his body coming up and down with crunches, his eyes lower, wanting to hear the music you know he’s listening to to have him so in the zone. Wanting to be in the same room as him, hearing his heavy breaths and pants, wanting him to be there just for you.
Lost in thoughts of what he could do, you barely notice his gaze shift towards your window like it has so many nights before. You barely notice his eyes grow wide and the way his hand lowers to the bulge forming in his pants at the sight of you, obvious thoughts of previous nights watching you entering his mind.
Except unlike other nights, you don’t look away, or seem oblivious to his gaze. You meet his eyes staring into yours, biting on your bottom lip and blinking just a few times to seem innocent enough. You watch his lips part, taking in the moment to understand you are now completely aware he has a perfect view of your bedroom, and you are aware he has been watching you all those lonely nights while leaving your blinds open just for him.
But it was all a part of the plan, and with a smirk forming on your lips as you stare into his living room, your brows arch, awaiting his reaction. He rises and steps closer to the window after reaching for a remote to mute his stereo he had obviously working out to, hand returning to the bulge in his pants as he licks his lips. 
No longer are there secrets or feigning innocence. Everything is out in the open as the two of you stare at one another, and you decide to take it a step further by reaching to unravel the towel so tightly secured around your body. The white cloth pools around your ankles, giving him the perfect view of what he has no doubt been missing the past few nights.
You can’t ignore the rush of adrenaline coursing through your body, or deny how much you love the way he licks his lips once more, hand caressing his length through his pants. It only encourages you to finally step away from the window to make your way towards the bed, carefully and slowly crawling with your knees pressed to the sheets until he has a perfect view of what is between your thighs. 
You bend over, hand slipping between your legs with your head turning to glance at him over your shoulders, noticing him watching ever so intently as you stroke your folds back and forth. Your fingers find your clit, stroking small circles over your flesh to give him the show he has been so desperately looking for. Giving him the invitation to take what he wants, with your hips rocking against your hand as your fingers quicken in pace. Begging him without words to go to you and finish what you have started. 
The single flip of a light switch turning off breaks your concentration, stopping all motions to turn with fluttering lids and look into his window, only to see him no longer standing there. His apartment has gone pitch black. He has left.
And you know heis on his way over to you at that very moment. 
The urgent knocks against your door has your already racing heart skipping a beat. Your fingers tremble as you grab your robe, slowly securing it around your body while hesitant footsteps carry you to the sound.
His lips are on yours the second you pull the door open. Desperate hands reach for you, arms wrapping around your body to pull you in close and you can't deny him in the slightest. You have been waiting for the moment to feel his lips against yours, feel his body melting into your body, and feel his heart pounding in his chest as he backs you away from the door toward your bedroom. 
“So,” he says, pulling away as breathless as ever with his swollen lips nearly quivering, “it was all a game to you the entire time?” His realization is taking its toll on him, with everything clicking at once and his tone tells you he wants to be angry, if only he wasn't so eager to have you.
“I-” You try to explain, to say something, anything, but his lips meeting yours once again cuts off your words just as fast as you started. His grip is tight against your waist as he guides you farther into the room, sloppy kisses trailing from your mouth down to your jaw before settling against your neck. 
“You were fucking toying with me,” he growls, earning a grunt when your back finally comes in contact with the frigid surface of your bedroom window, “that whole time.” 
You whimper his name, but you have no excuse and no strength to argue with him even if you did. The way his hands lower from your waist to your thighs to hoist your body up against the window’s ledge has you trembling. The way his tongue teases your skin before his teeth nip at the sensitive flesh has the room spinning. And it only adds to the blissful torture when his hands harshly spread your legs, inviting himself between them to press his painfully hard cock against your bare center. 
“Since you enjoy games so much,” he begins, tugging at the flimsy string holding your robe closed, “why don't I fuck you right here where everyone can see? Right in front of this window… isn’t that what gets you off, baby?” The moment your robe falls open to uncover your body, his hands are on you. Palms caress your skin, cupping your breasts before his thumbs tease your erect, sensitive nipples with a simple brush of contact, rendering you speechless.
Not that it matters when he presses his mouth to yours, silencing any protests you never had in the first place before his tongue skims over the delicate flesh of your bottom lip. You invite him in a second later, feeling him massage your tongue ever so carefully in contrast to the way his hands so desperately begin to touch your body. His breaths are hot and heavy against your skin as he pushes the robe from your shoulders, once again exposed and vulnerable for him just like so many nights before, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. 
“Do it,  then,” you challenge him in a gasp after pulling away, eyes locking with his darkened expression to see the amount of lust filling him, “fuck me.”
And he takes the challenge, groaning at your words just before he grips the neck of his t-shirt to pull over his head, tossing it aside a second before he reaches for your hips to pull you from the ledge. In an instant you’re being turned around, ass toward him and your chest pressing to the cold glass window, a gasp filling the small space to leave a foggy remnant of your heavy breaths against its surface as his hands lower. 
Fingers skimmed over the soft skin of your ass as you push your hips out for him, inviting him with a whimper of his name to do as he wishes. Another groan slips from his lips just before a single hand dips between your thighs, fingertips brushing over the hot and sensitive folds to have you quivering against the window. 
“Do you know how many nights,” he begins, feeling his fingers circle your soaked entrance as he speaks, causing you to want nothing more than to push down onto the digits, “how many nights I watched you, thinking it was wrong yet not being able to stop myself?”
You whine his name, more breathless than ever before as you attempt to roll your hips against his hand, “please.” But a tight grip against your hip from his other hand keeps you standing in place, suffering the teasing of his fingers barely entering you before pulling away. 
“Do you know how many nights I had to go to bed thinking of you, touching myself while fantasizing of all the things I wanted to do to you?” The question has you quivering, knowing that’s exactly what you wanted when you first decided to give him your little show, knowing the teasing you would have to endure just the same was nothing less than deserved. 
His fingers soon trail from your entrance to slip higher over your slit, caressing over your folds against the sides of your throbbing, aching clit, but not daring to touch just yet. A breathless moan leaves your lips, wanting him to desperately to touch where you need it the most, but his motions remain the same as he teases your slick center after toying with your clit, wishing that any second you would feel him enter you, feeling him offer release against the ever so sensitive bud, or finally give you his cock above all else.
You are seconds away from pleading for what you need when his hand finally slips back to ease two fingers deep within you without warning, causing you to latch onto the window’s edge to brace yourself, feeling the digits begin to pump in and out of your tightening walls. He groans at feeling your arousal drip from your core to coat his fingers, loving how eager your body is for him, loving how your hips rock back against his hand and loving the noises you make just for him. 
But you need more, the teasing beforehand too much to bear as you attempt to ease your own hand between your thighs to relieve yourself of the ache, but he is quick to take a firm hold on your wrist as he reaches around with his free hand. Fingers continue to pump in and out of your walls at a slow pace just as he pins your wrist against the window, causing you to whimper his name again and again. You need release as you push your hips onto his fingers, gasping as the digits enter you deeper and causing you to clench as you pull away, only to repeat the process over and over. 
He seems to enjoy you fucking yourself against his fingers, only earning groans in response from behind filling deep in his chest at the sight of you slipping up and down, arousal dripping over his skin more and more the harder your press your hips to him. His grip on your wrist becomes a blissful sting of pain and pleasure as his fingers wrap tighter against your skin to keep you in place, the nails of your other hand clawing at the windowsill with nothing but whimpers and moans leaving your lips.
“Please...” So breathlessly you beg him, wanting to feel him inside of you, wanting him to rid your body of the tension, of the ache between your legs reaching out to every limb. 
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he orders, breath deep and raspy and strained against your ear, fingers pumping harshly in and out of you to earn every last whimper of his name that leaves your lips, “and I’ll give it to you.” 
“Please,” you gasp, overwhelmed with the sudden force of his hand between your legs and the pleasure that courses through your entire being, “I w-want to feel y-you. I want to feel you-your cock.”
He has no intention of protesting as he pulls his fingers from within you, and instead wraps an arm around your waist to quickly guide you to your bed that was just behind the both of you. Your back hits the softness of the mattress with a bounce, earning another whimper as you watch him push his sweatpants to the floor before he climbs between your legs to meet your body on the bed. 
Desperately his lips crash into yours, feeling his hardness press to your soaked slit, feeling his body mold into yours as he pushes his hips against you just to tease once again. You nibble against his bottom lip, tugging lightly with your teeth to hear a groan hit your ears in return and to feel his cock press against your center as you buck your hips to slip up and down his length. 
Suddenly, he grabs both of your wrists to pull your grip from his bare shoulders, instead pinning your arms above your head while flashing a wicked smirk across his lips. You want to whine, to beg and plead but the sight of him biting his bottom lip, eyes full of desire and lust as he peers down at you, leaves you so absolutely speechless, breathless even, that all you can do is lay beneath him trembling in anticipation. 
“Patience, baby,” he says, one hand still pinning both of your wrists above your head, the other taking a firm grip of his cock to ease the tip over your folds. Your legs threaten to clasp together as they twitch, if only his thighs beneath them didn’t have them spread so far as he leans in, pushing just the head of his cock against your dripping entrance to have you gasping his name. 
Then he pulls away, torturing you further as you wiggle your hips beneath him, begging without words for what you want most. He presses against you once more, pushing his cock into you slowly, taking his time to have you so worked up beyond belief, pleading with a whimper of his name. 
“You’re so wet, baby.” His deep chuckle against your skin only taunts you, mouth skimming over the flesh of your neck as your head lolls back, enduring every moment of teasing with the tip of his cock pushing against you only to pull away a moment later to leave you empty. “You’re dripping, just for me, baby.” He kisses your neck as you gulp down the words you don’t have the strength to release regardless, lips so soft and tender against your skin to drive you wild.
And when you can barely stand anymore, becoming a quivering mess beneath him, he finally enters you, slowly, gently, pushing his hips against your body and thrusting his cock deep within your tightening walls, earning a gasp with your eyes shutting tight and your mouth falling open. 
“Oh my G-god.” You can barely speak, barely form words or even think as he fills you up, only to call out his name once again when he pulls out, pulls away and with a twitch of his hips he thrusts back into you all over again. 
“Harder,” you instruct him, so breathless once again, “faster.” Your voice grows too hoarse to speak, but he listens to your words. He listens to your body, the way you tighten around his length when he enters you. The way you moan and curse and huff anytime he thrusts just right to have your legs drawing up to his sides, still trembling, shaking, nearly giving out because the pleasure, the pressure from his hips, becomes too much to bear. 
Thoughts of getting caught, of fucking with curtains drawn knowing anyone could see if they looked hard enough, leaves both of your minds. Neither of you care when you are so wrapped up in one another. With you loving the way he loses control and with him loving every moment of feeling your body react to him. 
Your release approaches quickly, back arching from the bed, nails digging into the palms of your hands still pinned to the sheets, legs wrapped tight around his waist, taking every long, deep thrust of his cock within you until a final gasp spilled from your lips as the pleasure coursed through you.
He abruptly releases your hands, allowing you to grab on tight to his shoulders, nails clawing skin as he takes hold of your hips, keeping you in place while ruthlessly thrusting in and out through your bliss that swelled from your center to every inch of your body. His fingers press harder, drawing out every breathless moan, every strained whimper, every gasp of his name until your body grows too limp, too weak, with limbs slacking at your sides.
But he is far from done, slowing his hips to hit deep within your walls with aggressive thrusts, bringing his own peak closer and closer as you whine from the overwhelming sensation, too sensitive, too far gone to handle much more, shuddering with every push of his cock within you. Your mind grows numb, the sounds of his groans drowning out around you until he suddenly pulls away.
You watch through fluttering lids as he grips himself in his hand, pumping his length a few times before releasing over you, strings of white coating the flesh of your stomach as he bites his lip, heavy breaths filling the room seconds before his body slumps beside you. 
A few moments of catching your breaths, collecting yourselves, and gathering strength leads him to ease off your bed, reaching for his sweatpants to cover himself before making his way to your bathroom, only to return with a towel to rid you of any mess. You can’t help but to giggle tiredly as he takes care of you, bliss still filling you up even though the pleasure is over. 
“So,” you begin, leaning up as he tosses the towel to the side, “are you really upset with me?” You bat your lashes as you recall his anger within his lust when he first entered your apartment, earning a chuckle from him before he turn to grab your discarded robe from the floor, but not before he tugs on the chain at your window, pulling the curtains to a close. You cock your head to the side, questioning his silence while sporting a curious expression, raising your arms as he covers your body before tying the knot to keep the silk material secure around you.
“I wanted to be,” he finally answers with an exhale, “but I have to say, it was well played.” A smirk appears over his lips a second later, causing you to giggle once again before he leans down to press his lips to your forehead.
“You can’t deny the end result was better than expected.” You shrug carelessly, noticing him lick his lips as he pulls you from the bed with a palm against yours. Eyes scan up and down your body, as if he was in thought over the remark even though the grin he flashed is more than convincing.
“I can’t deny that at all,” he tells you honestly. “But next time…”
“Hm?” You perk up as his words fade, curiosity filling you once again.
“Next time,” he sighs, placing his thumb beneath your chin to cause you to look into his eyes, “I want you to ride me, just like you liked to tease me while riding that pillow.”
Words couldn’t describe the amount of embarrassment that floods you, becoming flustered as you look away, grinning, knowing he hasn’t forgotten the very thing that brought him over in the first place.
“Who said there would be a next time?” you tease, finally meeting his gaze to notice his smirk disappear in an instant. Then he leans in, pressing his lips ever so softly to yours to have you melting right where you stand, careful hands holding your body close to his to feel his warmth. 
And when he pulls away, a hint of his grin returns when he finally answers with a simple, “I did.”
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mylarena · 1 year
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Soap, draped across the couch, hanging halfway off of it: [Sad, dejected tone] And that's the most effective way to set up your C4 to maximize the destruction.
Gaz, knowing exactly what Soap's issue is: [Nods] Nice.
Price: ... Soap, are you feeling al-
Ghost: [Walks into the room, just getting back from a week long solo mission]
Soap, immediately flinging himself into a sitting position: [Absolutely ecstatic voice] Ghost! You're back!
Gaz & Price: [Exchange a Done With This Shit™ look]
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tanked-up · 4 months
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They in fact had to call both
(Part 21 of my collection)
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months
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Some Dad!Cod Character Scenario and Appreciation Post
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Characters In Mind: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, König, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
The original creator of the picture, they also have so many works that are used in so many fanfics as well so please credit her. I found her account here on Tumblr (@ave661) and here is the post.
AFAB!Reader and used pronouns are "you"
Apologies if this is a bit too short but;
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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A/n: I've had a good but also bad week (good thanks to @puff0o0 and other extremely sweet mutuals), it's neutral, I'm not here to rant of any sort but my personal life has not been good. I understand that not everyone will like me but it feels as though everyone hates me, most of those people happen to be at school. Sure I'm not really going to do anything about it because I prefer avoiding conflict but those same people are trying to flip the story around as if I'm the one who hates them when in reality I don't and by being mean to me they're giving me a reason to dislike them. Sure I'm average academically, sometimes I have difficulty pulling my weight in group works and I'm not outstanding in reportings but we all have our difficulties. I just don't understand people who love to hate on others because they have nothing better to do.
This is a word of advice to everyone, don't let others let you feel insignificant, you aren't and you have many talents that make you different from them. (I don't really practice what I preach because I love self-deprication, however I don't want people to feel the way I do because I know what it can cause)
Disclaimers/warnings: OOC??, Pregnancy, Implied birth, Children (Pretty sure that was obvious from the title), People who don't want/hate children be warned.
Short note: This is also a dedication to all the Mistki and Hozier fans out there <3
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He was so used to the smell of hospitals, the smell of medication, it always indicated death for him but this was a whole new feeling. It was the opposite of what he has seen most of his life
So much so that he refused to hold them, afraid of potentially hurting the fragile little one. He looked at you as if you were crazy when you tried to hand him the baby, "Come on now love, you can't just avoid holding them forever" you said to him as of it was a life or death situation.
Hesitantly letting you guide him through the proper way to hold them, he felt his breath hitch at the sound of cooing. The first time the baby opened it's eyes, the first thing they saw being their dad.
The moment he looked at the baby sealed it, he was going to protect them their whole life, he would go as far as feeling all the guilt of having blood on their hands again if it meant your baby would be protected and cared for.
The baby was so small that it's little head was practically the size of his palm, he didn't know initially what to do when the baby cried and shocked himself when he managed to make them stop.
Once the baby was old enough to crawl, he'd let the baby crawl all over him. The little one babbling non-sense while he just chuckled and replied as if he understood what the baby was saying. Gods be damned if he misses an important milestone such as their first word or their first time walking.
You'd often wake up to seeing him shirtless snoozing on the couch, the tv playing only ads for home appliances late at night while the baby only in a diaper having skin to skin contact with their dad, his huge hand big enough to support the little one from falling.
He almost cried the first time your baby reached for his face an touched it, resting it's tiny little fingers on his cheek, giving him a gummy smile. His little one unaware that they just healed something they never broke.
He NEVER wants to ever see your little one grow up, though sure it makes more memories with them, sometimes they just wish time stops for a second so they can enjoy the moment longer.
Initially was terrified that he'd pass his trauma down but he realized that wouldn't be possible and he will NOT ever let them go through what he did.
Eventually chose to resign from his work because the risk was far too much, what if he died? He'd leave you and your child to grieve over him? He won't be there for them growing up and he'd miss everything.
Sure he's worked most his life to get where he is now but nothing is ever worth more than spending a lifetime with you and your child together. He's been lonely almost all his life until he met you.
You are his family, his everything. He promised that whatever happens, he'll crawl home to you...
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