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random-thot-generator · 5 months

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Dirty Little Secret

JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH x FEM READER

Summary: Being Johnny MacTavish's dirty little secret isn't easy, but you don't have the strength to walk away.

Warnings/Tags: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Oral- F receiving, P in V Sex, Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, No Y/N

(Notes: Another smut purge but with feelings and angst. Maybe a part 2. Not sure yet. We'll see.)

Word Count: 2.3K

"Tha's it sweetheart. Feckin' hell, ya feel so good."

It's three in the morning, you've got to be up for work in a few hours, and you're currently folded up like an accordion under Johnny while he takes his sweet time. He's been gone for two months, shipped off to God knows where, and now he's come home in one of his moods.

You whine at the snail's pace he's using to fuck you. His hands are like vice grips on your thighs as he slowly sinks into your wet heat, hissing through his teeth when his balls finally make contact with the tacky, slick-coated cheeks of your ass. He grinds down into you, muttering curses under his breath before slowly dragging his hips back… back… back until only the throbbing head of his cock is all that's left for your cunt to clench around.

"Steamin' Jesus, hen. D'ya feel how ya got a'hold o' me?" He leans back to look, breath huffing out of his slack mouth. "Christ, would ya look at tha'…"

Before you know what he's about, he's pulled out completely and is shifting his body down your own. You whimper and grab for him, a weak attempt, and watch helplessly as his head dives between your thighs with a ragged groan. He spent a small eternity with his face buried between your legs already, the beard burn on your inner thighs making you wince when his stubbled jaw rubs over the raw flesh again. You'll be feeling this for days, you know.

Overstimulated, you choke out a pitiful cry when his lips suction around your swollen clit, suckling it like a juicy peach he's just sunk his teeth into. You hips levitate off the bed, tears tracking across your temples into your hair as your orgasm suddenly breaks like a wave over you. When your walls bear down and you cum with a strangled gasp, Johnny surges up your body and bullies his cock into your pulsing channel. Your walls seize him, clenching and pulling, milking his length as it pulls him deeper.

"Christ! Hen, I canna hold—!" His words are cut off with a strained whimper as he climaxes, his back arcing like a bow. Fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, locking you in place as he holds himself there, buried deep, letting his release fill you to overflowing.

Mindless bliss and panting breaths, a lingering kiss on your parted lips. He leans his sweaty forehead against yours and sighs as the tension in his body lets go.

Finally spent, he lifts himself away on shaking arms and falls beside you with a grunt, dragging you into his arms to press wet, artless kisses over your cheeks and sweaty brow. His hand smooths down your back to grip your ass, his other hand curled around the nape of your neck. He molds you to his body, sweat-slick skin sliding against yours as he buries his nose at the crook of your neck and breathes deep. "Missed ya so much, bonnie," he whispers against your throat. "So much…"

The last of his energy drained, he succumbs to exhaustion and falls asleep within minutes, head cradled on your breast.

When you wake up for work the following morning, he's already gone.

There's not much you can say about your situation with Johnny. It started out with a random drunken hook-up, which became another and another, until finally he just started showing up at your flat.

You can't call it friends with benefits, because you're not really friends. He doesn't hang out with you, doesn't text or call. He just shows up, wrecks your world, and is gone by morning.

There's never been any discussion about boundaries, though you think you might have reached the limit of yours. How much longer can this go on? How much more can you take? How can you live with yourself knowing that you're nothing more than his dirty little secret?

You ask yourself these questions when you wake up alone the next morning, only the soreness between your legs and the fading smell of sex and his cologne on your sheets as proof that he was ever even there. Yet you dread the day when he stops coming 'round. It's like living with a gun pointed at your head, wondering when he'll finally pull the trigger and put you out of your misery.

It's torture, but self-inflicted; you're doing this to yourself. Sure, you talk a good game, tell yourself you'll put your foot down next time, but you end up tripping over it instead when you hear his knock at your door late at night. You see it for what it is: you're the fiend and he's the drug, and each time you give into your addiction, he only leaves you wanting more.

There's only one remedy for it, because you know he'll never love you back. You'll have to go cold-turkey, remove him completely from your life, but just the thought of it terrifies you. The thing is, you're not sure what scares you the most, the thought of losing him or the thought of him being okay with it.

Either way, you're too much of a coward to find out.

You saw him today, on your lunch break.

He didn't see you, but you saw him— with her.

He was walking with her, arm slung over her shoulders, head tipped down to hear what she was saying. His face split into that grin that always melts your heart and he laughed, gave her a playful shake before pulling her in to plant a kiss on the crown of her head. He led her to a coffee shop, holding the door for her to enter, the two of them still laughing as they disappeared inside.

It was like a slap to the face, the way it hit you, a hot mess of emotions that bombarded you all at once. The worst of them, though, was the shame you felt, that deep-seated embarrassment that made your shoulders curl forward and filled your head with heat. Ears ringing, you staggered into an alley and threw up your turkey on rye, then went back to work.

Whatever happened afterward was a blur, your body on autopilot, your brain numb. At some point your supervisor stopped by your cubicle and told you to go home, that you looked unwell. Even after you left, the word kept repeating itself; unwell, unwell, unwell...

Yes. You were unwell.

You made it inside your flat before the dam broke, and then sobbed yourself dry slumped against your front door.

The knock came later that night, long after you had already dragged yourself to bed. Wadded tissues scattered as you jerked fully awake, ears attuned to the muffled knocking that sounded again. Your heart was pounding.

Climbing out of bed, you crept through your flat, jumping when the rapping grew sharper and more insistent. You scurried the rest of the way to the door, rattling the chain to stop him before he started pounding with his fist.

"Jesus, bonnie! I thought somethin' was wrong," Johnny hissed, taking you by the arms and walking you backwards into the flat. You yelped as your feet tangled, grabbing hold of the front of his shirt as he caught you up in his arms to steady you. "Was ready t'kick in the door," he huffed, bringing a hand up to cradle your face.

Your chest clenched, all the hurt and sorrow that had settled during sleep now welling back up inside you. There was so much you wanted to say, but the culmination of it came out in one wavering word.

"Why?"

There was a beat of silence, then Johnny huffed a quiet laugh. "Ya must still be half asleep, sweetheart. C'mon, let's get ya back t'bed."

His words sounded flippant until you realized he couldn't properly see you in the dark room. You were glad the darkness hid your face, hid your red, swollen eyes and splotchy skin, hid your tears and your heartache. You let him lead you through the dark flat to your bedroom, but this time you were at peace with the decision. It was okay because you knew this time you weren't giving in.

You were giving up.

This would be your swan song with Johnny MacTavish, this one last time to tell him goodbye.

When he kissed you, you kissed him back, taming his hungry mouth with gentle lips, pouring every bit of your broken hope and useless love into him. Let him have it; it was all for him, anyway.

When he stripped you bare and laid you down on your bed, you clung to him like a lover would, for once, unashamed of how you felt, your heart letting him go even as your arms pulled him closer.

You wondered if he could feel it, could somehow sense that this was the end. There were several times that he pulled away, peering down at you in the darkness, his breaths panting and unsteady. He was quiet, too; unusual for him. He always talked during sex, but not this time. Instead, there was something akin to a reverent silence, the moment sacred. No words would suffice; it could only be felt.

When he entered you, you sobbed, just one gasping breath that hitched up in your chest. You felt him tense, heard him draw in a breath to speak, so, you pulled his head down and silenced him with a kiss, wrapping your legs around him and holding on tight.

A ragged sound escaped his throat as he rolled his hips and began to move. His kisses were lingering and deep, his body pressed close to yours, his hips rocking in the cradle of your pelvis but never losing contact. It was slow and sensual, but unbelievably intense.

When he finally rose above you, you felt him trembling, his thrusts growing stronger, faster, as he angled his hips to hit that spot that only he knew well. You arched to meet him with every stroke, your bodies moving in perfect accord, locked in an ancient rhythm that carried you both up that peak.

You came with a moaning cry, limbs locking around him as you rode out the high. His thrusts grew erratic, his grunts broken and choked. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep, hips hitching up as he came with a ragged, "Bonnie—!" punching out of his throat.

Panting breaths in solemn silence, that's all that can be heard in the aftermath. He didn't move away, choosing this time to stay inside you, his weight a familiar burden that you already miss. His kisses were slow, his hands affectionate, petting and stroking as he sighed into your skin. Eventually, he wrapped his arms around you and turned you both to your sides, the tip of his nose brushing yours as his big hand cupped the back of your head. You could feel his smile against your lips.

Once he fell asleep, you got out of bed to clean yourself up. As you washed away the spend that had dried on your thighs, a sense of grief overtook you, so you locked the door and cried into a bath towel. When the tears stopped, you washed your face then went back to bed.

You didn't sleep, made a concerted effort to stay awake. You wanted to be awake when he left this time, this one last time. At five in the morning, a muffled buzz broke the silence, and Johnny stirred beside you with a sleepy groan. So, that's how he did it, you thought absently. He set his alarm and slept with it under his pillow. You'd always wondered how he managed to be up and out of your flat before you awoke.

You felt him shift behind you, and pictured him sitting up, weight resting on his elbows. He blew out a long sigh, scrubbed his hand over his mohawk before drawing it down his stubbled cheek. When he reached out and traced the line of your body from shoulder to hip, you tried to be as still as possible, but his lips on your shoulder made you gasp. He huffed a quiet chuckle and rose from the bed.

While he was in the loo, you blinked your eyes open, the hot prickle of tears threatening to reveal your ruse. Not too much longer, you promised yourself, knowing he would be leaving soon. When his quiet steps came towards the bedroom again, you closed your eyes, willing your body to relax.

You listened to the rustle of clothes being slipped back on, the jingle of his buckle, the dull thud of his boots. Once he was dressed, he rounded the bed to your side, then stood there a moment before you heard him shift. His knees cracked when he dropped down to his haunches, one hand on the bed near your folded arms. He brushed his knuckles over your cheek and sighed, then leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Sleep tight, my bonnie," he whispered. "See ye soon."

He rose and stepped away, his footsteps heading toward the bedroom door. They paused in the threshold then continued on through the flat, the sound of your front door opening and closing reaching your ears. Your eyes opened and you stared at the dark, empty room, feeling hollowed out but at peace.

"I'll miss you, Johnny," you whispered. "I love you. Goodbye."

part 2

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homicidal-slvt · 10 months

Note

Soap smut public sex if you okay with it obviously

"Red Handed"

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish x GN!Reader

Civilian|Y/N

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex, Public Sex, Oral, Mention Of Alcohol Consumption, SLIGHTLY Jealous!Soap

Your back was pressed flush against the alley wall, the grooves of the bricks digging into your skin but you couldn't bring yourself to care, fingers grasping and tugging at Johnny's mohawk.

You could barely get a single breath of air, his kisses relentless and you were sure you'd have bruise marks from how tightly he gripped your waist.

"Mm.. Johnny... Not here."

You finally got some space to breathe, still caged between him and the wall. Those blue eyes of his were overtaken by his lust blown pupils, saliva clung to his lips from the heavy make out session.

"Can't wait, bonnie..."

Perhaps it was the fact you both had one too many, or maybe the fact he had seen another guy flirting with you and didn't care all too much for that interaction... But he is fully going to take you right here- right now.

"They might hear-"

"Then let them. Let them know who ye belong too."

How could you argue with the man that makes your knees buckle at a single heated touch?

Watching as he slowly slides down to his knees and begins to remove your bottoms, intent on giving you oral right here in the dark of the alley, still able to hear the laughter from within the bar...

Hopefully the guys didn't come looking for you two... Though- would it be that bad to get caught?

Perhaps the risk is exciting.

Fisting your hand into his hair you groaned and pushed your sex into his face, his tongue working over time to push you to the edge. He occasionally groaned into you, setting your senses ablaze with the light vibrations.

It wasn't long before he was having to help hold you up, bringing on your orgasm in full force. He loved the feeling of your body tensing beneath his fingertips- a choked moan entering the cool night air.

"Not done with ye yet, bonnie."

••

You could barely walk straight currently, trying your best to not let it show as you settled into the chair beside Gaz.

"Had a bit too much to drink?"

Price questioned lowly from across the table, however it was clear in his tone and slight smile that he was well aware of the real reason why you were stumbling around.

A heavy flush crossed your face and Gaz snickered quietly. Your head whipped around to face Johnny who just stood looking proud of the fact he had you making that much noise.

Damn it... Caught red handed.

{I had trouble writing this one for some reason. I just feel like it's a bit off but I hope ya like it anyway!}

{@gothgirl6-6-6 }

{More Content}

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gomzwrites · 10 months

Text

100 Followers Special: Fic Marathon

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Marked ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

more info on the fic marathon check out this post :)

Day 4: John Soap MacTavish

CONTAIN SMUT, 18+ content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT I will block ageless, untitled block so gtfo

Tags: smut, oral job(Soap receiving), xgn!reader, lipstick - let me know if I missed any

Notes: ・❥・reader's texts are in purple ・❥・dividers drawn by @gomzdraws

a/n: I think for a time there were a few lipstick smut fic and I really wanted to have my spin on it :) so I wrote this for our dear feral Soap

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What have yer been up to?

Soap asked from the bed as he placed down his journal and watched you shift around on the chair in front of the vanity table.

I'm trying out these new lipsticks, I got them a few weeks ago during my birthday from my friend!

You replied back happily as you usher him closer; he gave you an amusing look as he approached you and lifted you up to sit on his thigh. He watched the different lipsticks laid before him and noted the colours.

What do you think? Which one should I try first?

You flash a grin as he chuckles and tilts his head.

This one.

He pointed to the one that had a crimson-red colour on it.

Okay.

Soap hums along as he watches you take out the cover and glance at it. Then you get an idea as you hand him the base of the lipstick.

Wanna help me wear it?

He was taken aback a little by the request, but he decided to do it as he shrugged his shoulders.

Erm ah can try ah guess? Don’t scold meh if I mess up yer look then, pet.

He wiggles his eyebrow as you chuckle and push your lips at him. He slowly takes out the stick and gently swipes it across your lips, watching the shine appear and swallowing hard when it makes your lip look brighter and plump, the look making you irresistible.

Oops…

He whispers as he deliberately lets the lipstick swipe over the corner of your lip just a bit further than necessary. Before you can move, he takes his finger and traces it from your chin and wipes it off slowly, teasingly. He gives you a smirk as he squeezes your cheeks slightly and chuckles. He can feel your cheeks getting slightly hotter from his fingers.

Hmmm, it looks good on you...

He whispers in a lower voice as he tilts your chin up, staring at your lips for a few seconds before moving your head to the mirror.

You watch the reflection and nod. You give your lips a quick smack before another idea comes into your mind.

Hm, I don’t know. There’s another colour here as well to try, though I don’t feel like wiping this one off yet~

Soap grins back as he rests his hand on your thigh while the other rests idly on the chair armrest. He sensed that playful tone in your voice, which usually means you’re up to no good.

And what is yer pretty mind thinking now?

Well…

You trail off before grinning at him as you tap his lips.

I can put it on you, and then we can see how well the colour goes.

He widened his eyes and laughed as he shook his head.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Why? Scared of looking good?

Wut? No, am not; ah already look good without lipstick on.

Okay, yeah, that sounds like you’re scared.

He knows this is a trap, but he can’t help but give in to your plan as he sighs and rolls his eyes.

Okay, fine, do what yer want then.

You beamed up happily as you quickly took the other lipstick and slowly applied it over his lips. This one has a lighter shade than the one you’re wearing; the shade is somewhere between berry and burgundy.

ah look ridiculous.

He says it with a deadpan as he looks into the mirror and back at you. You burst into laughter as you watched how unnatural it looked on him. You were about to take your phone as he quickly snatched it from your hand and held it firmly.

Nuh uh, there’s no way I’ll let ye take a photo!

You give him a challenging look as you raise your eyebrow.

Oh yeah?

You lean in and kiss his lips suddenly as he gasps and weakens his grip. You hold him close from the neck as you pull back, feeling him chase after you. He huffed out a puff of air after you retracted your lips from him and stared at you with a dumb look. You grinned with satisfaction as you held the phone before him.

*SNAP*

Oh you little-

You yelp as he takes the phone and tosses it to the bed, grabbing your waist as his eyes glint with mischief as he pulls you in for another kiss again, breathing heavily as he takes his time to feel your soft lips. He could taste the shared breath and feel you fumbling around to grab his hair. He chuckles as he parted lips with you, absolutely awestruck with the way you look right now.

Your front hair is slightly messy, and your lips, the colours now mixed up from both his and your lipstick, the look sends a shiver down his spine as he lets out a small moan.

Steamin’ jesus, look at you...

You giggled as he looked the same to you, his cheeks flushed with a messy lip, and his eyes, the way it shows how much want and greed turn you on in ways you can’t describe. You lean in and kiss all over his face, making sure to plant them harder on his skin as you finish.

You don’t look too bad yourself, handsome.

He turns his head to the mirror and watches the amount of kiss marks adorned on his face; his mouth quirked up at the corners as he let out another breath. He never realised how much he liked being marked up like this by you.

He’d always been a big fan and would always like to go through the claw marks around his back and arms the next day after you have a steamy session with him, and he goes absolutely feral over the hickies you leave on his body; his favourite is when you leave it on the back of his neck, his collar barely being able to cover it.

Yeah, just look at the mirror like that, hm? Make sure you don’t look away, Johnny.

That made him swallow another breath as you whispered in that sultry tone into his ears. He obeyed and watched as you slowly kissed his neck, then trailed lower to plant more kisses around his shoulder blade. He wanted to take off his shirt, but you stopped him, only taking the hem of his shirt and pulling it up to his mouth.

Be a good boy and hold it, yeah? If you let go... I’ll stop immediately, and you don’t want that now, do you?

He gives you a frantic shake as he bites on the shirt, obediently following your orders as you take control. You run your hand all over his upper body, feeling every muscle tensing up and shivering slightly. He watches you in anticipation as you smirk and start painting him with your lips.

Going at such a slow speed as you trail ghost-like kisses around his chest, teasing him as he gives a few grunts, before finally licking those rough skin and kissing it, making a sloppy mess on every spot you imprinted with your lips, causing him to shiver everything your hot breath fanned against those sensitive spots.

You kneel before him, slotting between his thighs, as you wipe your drool off your lips with the back of your hand, admiring just how divine he looks right now, marked up all prettily with those lipstick stains from your lips. His breathing was much harder, his beautiful blue eyes were blown out, and the shirt he was biting on now has a wet stain surrounding it.

That’s not the only spot that is damp.

You palm him with your hand, watching how his hips jolt towards your hands as he gives out a hushed whimper.

So needy…

You tutted slowly as you grabbed him through the jeans harder, a strained moan escaping from him as he frowned and closed his eyes. His shaky hands held onto your head as he gently nudged it against the dent of his pants, urging you to go on.

Think you can keep that shirt in that pretty mouth of yours if I give you what you want?

He gives you a hurried nod as he massages the scalp of your hair and tries to speak through the cloth.

M-mmmhmm….mmpheasee…

You began zipping down his pants and letting his cock free from these constraints, gasping as you watched it bounce and hit his abs. God, you’ll never get tired of this view. Then, you give a soft kiss at the tip of his head before trailing it down all the way to his base. You can hear him whining as he buckles his hip up desperately every time you retract your plump lips off him, silently telling you:

Enough with the tease, please.

You lick the cum off the slit of his hard cock and start flattening your tongue and running it up and down on the side of his cock, your eyes never leaving him as he throws his head back into the arm rest, pulling his shirt up further and showing off his glistening body from the sweat.

Good boy

You mumble before you finally start bobbing your head up and down on him, his hand tugging you slightly every time his aching cock hits the back of your throat, making you moan each time, the vibration of your sounds sending electric waves of pleasure into him.

Mmmm! Hngh….

More pleas and whimpers start escaping from his lips the faster you move your head, always sucking his tip slightly whenever you reach the top while you pump the rest of his cock with your hands. You can tell by how close he is, how much his cock is twitching in your hot mouth, and how he is leaning forward. He pulls you off his cock as he furiously pumps his cock with his other hand.

Come on, come for me, Johnny.

You rasp back as you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. He gives a strained, high-pitched moan as he comes undone and shoots his load into your mouth, his body tensing and shuddering as orgasm hits him like a wave.

F-fuckkk….y/n!! Ah! y/n….arghhhhh….

He released the shirt as he panted and mumbled incoherently with a broken voice, slumping forward as he watched you swallow, lick your lips, and clean yourself. He tilted your head up as he looked at your face. Your lipstick was smudged and messed up, and that fucked-out blissful face you had was almost tempting enough for him to go in for a second round.

You’re going to be the death of me…

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a/n: muffled moans? muffled moans- *nods* I hope this was a good read for you guys, Im still not confident with the way I write smut but this one was a fun one to write >:]

Previous fic: Kyle Gaz Garrick | Captain John Price | Konig next fic: Alejandro Vargas

taglist: @cathnoneofyourbusiness | @land-lord-lol like and reblog if you enjoyed this fic :D have a good day/night!

#john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish smut #john mactavish x you #john mactavish #soap cod #cod soap #soap smut #cod soap smut #cod mwii #cod imagines #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod fanfic #gomzwrites

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sergeantnex · 3 months

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Werewolf!Ghost x Trans!Soap: Sensitve Senses (Smut)

Ghost was already an intimidating guy, standing at six foot four and built like a brick house. The Lieutenants' senses were sharp, seemingly better than laser sharp at that. It didn't take long into being paired with Ghost for Soap to learn that his teammate was different. It became clearer when Graves betrayed everyone that things became clearer to the Scottish male. Soap's arm bleeding from the gunshot wound, making his head feel hazy. He fumbled upon trying to stand only to fall on the rain-soaked ground with a heavy groan. Soap laied there for a bit before slowly getting up. Ghost's thick Manchester accent finally came through the comms channel, asking him how everything was. Ghost kept Soap company as he struggled to make his way to the church.

"It's pishin' it doon out here.." Soap commented.

"Speak English." Ghost groaned back through comms.

"It's rainin' fuckin' hard!" Soap grinned as he spoke back.

"Then say so." Ghost chimes back quietly, doing his best to gauge how well Soap is actually doing.

"I did!" Soap chirps back a smile being heard in his voice.

"Rains good, it'll cover your tracks. Washes away the scent of your blood and you." Ghost responds without thinking.

"My scent??" Soap questioned as he continued to move forward, looking for materials to craft protection.

Ghost wasn't sure how to respond, so he simply told Soap to focus on getting to the church. Soap chooses to say nothing and instead pay attention to his surroundings. Ghost kept thinking of different ways to explain to Johnny that he wasn't human and that instead, he was a werewolf. The more he thought about it, the more he felt it was impossible to explain. Lightly scratching the back of his head, Ghost moved to focus back outside the church. He kept talking to Soap, hoping that the other male would forget. When he finally met up with Soap, he felt bad for making the male swim through the tunnels. The hole in Soap's arm from the bullet looked bad. They would have to get somewhere safe so Ghost could treat his arm properly. They both slid into a pickup truck, and with Soap covering them, Ghost hit the gas.

Ghost drove over the barb wire swiftly, turning the truck around corners and down streets away from the Shadows. The drive to the one place Ghost knew was safe would be several hours away, Alejandro's safehouse. Glancing at Soap, he wasn't sure if Soap would last that long. Despite finding a stim, his teammate looked ready to drop from blood loss and exhaustion. They were barely five miles from the city of Las Almas when Ghost pulled to the shoulder of the road. Johnny looked at the male confused as Simon stepped out of the truck and walked over to the passenger side. Simon said nothing as he grabbed what little medical supplies he had on him and laid them out on the dashboard. It would be enough to buy them time until they reached the safehouse. The wind from the windows being shot out had helped Johnny dry off quicker, letting Simon smell the Scots natural scent.

The smokey smell of firewood graced with the sweetness of brown sugar, a tingeness of copper from the males blood and musk from the male sweating all mixing perfectly. The sweetness made no sense to Simon. It was like nothing he had smelled on a male before. Ghost pulled Soap's sleeve up as much as he could, allowing him access to the wound. As he looked at the bullet hole, Ghost grew frustrated when he saw no exit hole. That meant the bullet was still in his arm, possibly digging deeper with each roll of muscle. Deciding it would be best to dig the bullet out at the safehouse where he had more access to supplies, Ghost began work. Something about Soap drove Ghost's inner wolf wild, so without hesitation or thinking, Simon moved. Lifting the bottom of his mask just enough to show his mouth, Simon leaned in and began licking at the wound. At first, Soap groaned and flinched at the pressure and burn, but then he tried pulling his arm away from the Brits tongue.

A low growl alerted Johnny to stop fighting the male as he worked on clearing the blood away from the wound itself. When Simon pulled away, Johnny was thrown off by the black sclera surrounding the chocolate brown irises. Ghost licked his lips like a predator before focusing on the task at hand, patching Soap up. Soap said nothing as Ghost gently placed gauze on the wound before using electric tape found in the truck to bind it down. Ghost double-checked the patch job before taking a small step back, taking a minute to think of something to say to Soap. The male at least deserved some form of explanation regarding his actions.

"Does this 'ave somethin' to do with my scent?" Soap questioned slowly, piecing things together about Ghost.

"It does. This may come off unbelievable, but I am a werewolf." Ghost said calmly, studying Soap for reactions of disbelief. If anything, it looked as though Soap was thinking back on things.

"No, it makes sense the more I think 'bout it." Johnny explained now, looking at Ghost in a newly found light. Simon says nothing as he just moves back and closes Soap's door before moving back to the driver's seat. Ghost begins driving toward the safehouse once more, the ride becoming silent. At a glance, anyone could tell Soap was lost in thoughts, staring off at the road as they drove. Before Ghost could question Soap as to what he was thinking about, the crispness of the brown sugar in the males' scent grew stronger. Ghost glanced out of the corner of his eyes to see Soap clench his thighs slightly and shift in his seat. Feeling his system rush with the realization that Johnny was becoming aroused.

"Hey Lt, can I ask a strange question?" Johnny asked lightly, squeezing his thighs more to apply friction to his cock. Ghost nodded as he focused his eyes on the road before them.

"If you fuck in your wolf form, do you have a knot than?" Soap boldly asks quietly watching Ghost from the corner of his eye. Ghost stiffened slightly and quickly looked from the road to Soap before looking back at the road. Soap started to snicker at the other males' reaction to the question, as though he hadn't just asked such an intimate question.

"In my werewolf form, yes my uh- my autonomy changes to more canine looking autonomy." Ghost replied, clearing his throat, not expecting such a question from the Sergeant. That brown sugar scent was stronger than the firewood, the sweat, and the blood. Ghost wanted to curse his enhanced senses, but when he could see Soap's hand moving to touch himself through his pants, Ghost couldn't help but feel relieved. Simon continued to take side glances at Johnny rubbing between his own legs softly, in hopes of not getting caught. Simon let his right hand let the stirring wheel and gently rest on Johnny's thigh. Giving a soft squeeze before letting his thumb rub the fabric of the males pants. Johnny moved his hands forward, making a bold move to bring Simon's right hand towards his sex. Ghost took a deep inhale and gently pressed his hand further forward.

He was surprise to not feel the swell of a hard cock waiting for him, instead he felt Soap's pants wetting with slick. It made now clicked to Ghost why Soap had scars at his pecks. It explained the now syrupy sweet brown sugar scent. Ghost softly groaned in pride as he let his hand undo Soap's pants. Johnny lifted his hips and tugged his pants and underwear down enough that Simon had full access to his aching cock. Simon gently pressed his middle finger to Soap's hard cock rubbing slow circles. Johnny gasped and let put a soft moan as he opened his legs further. Simon gently slides his middle finger and ring finger down towards Johnny slick entrance, the fabric of his glove dampening with the excitment. Simon couldn't help but groan when he felt Johnny roll his hips up against his fingers. Ghost gently pressed his fingers in letting them sink down to the knuckle.

"Damn Johnny, the thought of me fucking you and breeding you in my werewolf form got you this eager?" Simon questioned now beginning to pump his fingers in and out of Soap's eager entrance. The males' walls clenching and fluttering with pleasure as the fabric of Ghost's glove provided extra stimulation. Johnny said nothing as Simon worked his fingers in and out of his heat, the werewolfs' finger curling just right. The moans that began leaving Johnny's lips were pure sin, Simon curled his fingers again, eager to hear it more. His thick fingers curled, rubbing and tapping against Soap's g-spot perfectly. The action pulls more and more noises from the male, each one sounding more desperate than the last. Johnny could feel his slick soaking the seat under his ass as his Lieutenant worked him open. Soap let his fingers move to his cock, gently rubbing as he tried to desperately fuck himself on Simon's soaked gloved fingers.

Simon couldn't take it anymore as he pulled the truck to the shoulder of the road once more. He used his left hand to put the truck into park and shut it off. Ghost shifted, so he was facing Soap, gently replacing his fingers with those of his left hand. His tongue licking at his right gloved fingers before fucking his fingers a bit harsher into Soap. Johnny's head tips back as he moans louder, his thighs beginning to shake with pleasure. The Sergeant would be lying if he said he had felt such pleasure and bliss before. His brain short circuiting as he now took in the feral sight of Ghost fingering him. Ghost's honey brown eyes slightly shimmering with unnatural amber hues as his sclera began to turn black once more. Soap's legs fell further open as his pants and underwear fell from his knees to his ankles. Ghost groaned at the beautiful sight, his gloves and seat soaked with Soap's excitement. Ghost could feel Soaps' walls beginning to grip tighter around his fingers, doubling his effort Simon began pressing his fingers up and down. The motion bouncing Soaps' body and drawing more desperate noises from the male.

"That's it, Johnny cum for me. Just like this." Simon praised as he took in the sight of Johnny's blue eyes rolling back. The Scots moans, turning to loud whines and mutters of Simon's callsign as he begins to come undone. His walls milking Simon's fingers with his release as he rides himself through the pleasure. Simon is eager to keep Soap looking so beautiful, so he continues to work him through the pleasure until Soap is mewling for him to stop. Determined to at least make his Sergeant cum once more, Ghost kept harshly pumping his finger into Soap's soaked sex. Johnny couldn't find the words to express the sensation of something building within due to his mind being overwhelmed. The deep pleased rumbling that crept from Simon's throat made the dam break. Ghost felt himself fill with pleasure and pride as a rush of clear liquid squirted against his hand and splattered on the dash. Simon stops letting his finger rest inside of Johnny's dripping sex as the male catches his breath. Simon presses up his mask enough to kiss Johnny's lips softly before moving to kiss on the males' neck. Soap moans softly as Ghost eases his fingers out of him, the males' movements slow and gentle. Ghost gently tugs Johnny to face him, his larger hands opening the males legs more. Before Soap can get words out, Simon lowers himself to lap at the males' sex.

His tongue cleaning away the mess that had been made by the two of them. Soap's thighs twitch and squeeze around Simon's head in overstimulation. Despite the overstimulation, he doesn't push Simon away. He let's the male eat him like a starved man cleaning away his slick and cum with his tongue. Finally lifting himself away, Simon licks his lips as he looks the Soap's blue eyes. Johnny offers a breathless smile that reads greatly of exhaustion and bliss. Chuckling Simon helps the male get dressed before encouraging him to sleep while he gets them safe. With no energy to fight Ghost, he nods, accepting the help in getting dressed again. Once Simon gets Johnny situated, he turns back to the road, turning the truck back on and shifting it into drive. Simon glances every so often towards Soap, seeing the male fall asleep happily. Ghost smirks under he mask before putting his whole focus on the road.

#cod fandom #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod smut #cod mwii smut #cod mw2 smut #cod ghost #cod ghost smut #werewolf!ghost #cod soap #cod soap smut #trans!soap #cod ghost x soap #cod ghost x soap smut #ghost x soap #smut

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elexaria · 3 months

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when you start dating johnny, you also start dating simon. they’re best friends, which means simon is also your best friend.

he’s always over at your place, and you always sit inbetween then whenever you guys watch a movie. johnny’s hand on your thigh whilst simon’s arm chills around your shoulder, his thumb gently rubbing your arm.

so its no surprise when you end up getting furiously dicked down in bed by simon, his thick girthy cock stretching your poor cunt out while you choke on johnny’s fat dick, tears in your eyes as your muffled whimpers only spur them on more. “fuckin’ hell—“ si grunts out with each bellow and pump back inside of you, his thumb reaching down to tease your swollen clit. johnny’s fingers pinch at your nipples, chuckling as he grabs at your stupidly fat tits with a satisfied growl.

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #soap smut #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut

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rowarn · 4 months

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soap x reader x simon

soap doesn't know how to make you cum on his cock so he asks his trusted lieutenant to teach him how.

sub!reader, dom!simon, switch?soap, getting fucked by soap in simon's lap, wet&messy, cumming untouched, size difference/kink, threesome, fat dick!soap, MDNI

<3 just some horny nonsense that was spinning in my brain!!!

When Simon found out that sweet Johnny was struggling with something personal and even as embarrassing as making you cum, Simon’s mouth moved faster than his brain with an offer he never thought he would utter.

“I could help you out with that,” he had said, making Soap pause, mouth agape. Simon almost rescinded those words, brushing it off as a crude joke.

But then Soap spoke.

“Would you?” he asked, blue eyes glistening hopefully.

And Simon felt his cock twitch in his jeans.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t make you cum, Soap had defended on the drive over to your shared flat. Soap was good with his tongue and his fingers, could make you squirt by just rubbing that sweet little spot inside your gooey cunt.

The problem was whenever Johnny got his cock in you, he just could never get it right. The pace was wrong, the angle was off, he went too deep – anything that he could do wrong, he would do wrong.

“It’s never been like this with other…partners,” Soap shyly whispered. Though it was dark in the truck, Simon knew his friend was blushing in embarrassment, “I-I don’t know what I’m doin’ wrong this time.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out, Johnny,” Simon assured, shoving the door open the second Soap turned the engine off.

You and Soap lived on the top floor and the elevator ride up was stifling. Soap was fidgeting, clearly more than a little nervous about how this night was meant to go.

You and he had been together for a while – long enough to move in together. Simon wondered what finally made Soap reach out for help on this little problem after so long.

But Simon wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’d wanted to get his fucking hands on you from the second you bounced into the room, radiant and so sweet in the way you shyly clung to Soap’s arm. You were precious and Simon’s not proud to admit he had gone home and tugged his cock fucking raw over the way you had batted your pretty lashes at him when you looked up at him – so much smaller than him.

He knew he would be a fucking wreck the second he had you within his grasp and fuck, he was right.

His hands were shaking as he held you in his lap, gripping your knees to keep you spread wide for Soap to slot his hips between them.

You were a sensitive little thing, Simon learned. You came so easily around Soaps fingers when he worked to stretch you open for him. If you came so easily then why the fuck couldn’t Johnny get you off from his cock?

You were trembling, wide eyes teary as you watched your boyfriend carefully work his cock into you. The stretch was always so good, always making your eyes roll back in your head. Your cunt was so slick and sticky, eagerly swallowing every inch of Soap. So fucking messy. It made Simon's mouth fill with saliva at the sight of how wet you were, he wanted to taste you so badly.

Johnnys cock was fat, thick and heavy, no doubt burning your poor little cunt with how wide he had you stretched around him. You creamed around him, juices dribbling down his balls and wetting his sweatpants. You even dripped all over Simon who held you in his lap.

When Johnny started thrusting, Simon immediately understood why you couldn't seem to cum. Sure, it felt good, and you were moaning - twitching and gasping every time Soap sunk in and brushed against any sweet little spot inside. But Soaps rhythm and pace were inconsistent and he didn't seem to have any idea how to aim his cock to really hit those gooey spots that would have you falling over the edge into bliss.

Simon took a few moments to admire the scene unfolding right in his lap. You, creaming all over a cock that couldn't make you cum. Soap desperately humping your pretty cunt haphazardly and sloppily. He wasn't even bothering to touch your clit. Beneath his mask, Simon grinned.

It was so cute how Johnny went so stupid the second he got his cock wrapped up in a tight, hot pussy.

“Johnny…” Simon finally spoke, “Slow down.”

Immediately, Soap did as he was told. His pace slowed, careful rolls of his hips replacing the jackhammering.

“There's a good boy,” Simon praised, eyes darkening at the sight of Soap’s ears turning red, “Go nice ‘nd deep You gotta hit all those nice spots inside.”

Soap’s pretty, blue eyes were half-lidded as he watched you writhe and twitch in his Lieutenant’s arms. With every deep stroke, both of them could hear the sticky, wet noises of your pussy swallowing every inch.

One of Simon’s hands trailed down your thigh, inching down and down. Soap’s eyes followed every movement until his fingers finally found your hard little clit. Immediately, your cunt clamped down around Soap’s cock and the Scot moaned.

“You gotta touch this cute little clit,” Simon teased, “If you really wanna know how it feels to have a pretty cunt cum around you.”

Soap nonsensically nodded, blunt nails digging into your hips as he held himself back from fucking you like a madman again. He kept Simon’s words in mind - deep and slow. Aim for those little spots. He knows where they are, he knows where it feels good. Just don't think with his cock - that's all he had to do.

With Simon’s callused fingers swirling over your sticky clit and Soap’s fat cock stuffing you full just right, it came as no surprise when you finally came.

Soap wasn't able to stand how good it felt with how tight you were squeezing around him, pulsing through every wave of your orgasm. You were gushing, creaming sticky and wet all over him. Simon could feel you clit twitching under the pads of his fingers.

With a shout, Soap filled you up with his load, “Fuck!”

As the two of you came down, Simon’s big hands carefully stroked up and down your thighs until their trembling ceased.

“You know, Lt,” Soap panted, looking up at him through his lashes, “I think I could use a little more hands on training. How about you really show me how it's done.”

Even though Simon had quietly came in his own pants, his cock was chubbing up again at those words.

“I like the sound of that, Seargent.”

do not modify translate, or repost to other websites. reblogs welcome!

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #cod x reader #cod smut #ghost x reader #ghost smut #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish smut #soap mactavish smut #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap smut

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brewed-pangolin · 4 months

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Captain MacTavish, who makes you ride his face while leaning against the headboard every morning. Won't stop until your legs are quaking around his head and dripping yourself all over his stubbled chin. Whimpering that you're too sensitive, further urging him on as he grips tightly into your thighs and plunges his tongue deep into your overstimulated hole.

#good morning #the brainrot of Captain MacTavish #soap squad #soap sqaud 🧼#OG Soap #Captain MacTavish #Captain Soap MacTavish #mw2 Soap #soap x you #soap x reader #soap smut #cod soap smut #call of duty #cod

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bejeweledblondie · 6 months

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When I tell you I was pissing my pants laughing at this.

“This wallpaper is so cute, we could live here” ME IN A NUTSHELL I have ADHD (I’m medicated for it) but when I’m off it this is me 😭

#call of duty #cod imagines #cod masterlist #ghost call of duty #cod modern warfare #captain john price #captain price #soap call of duty #call of duty smut #cod imagine #cod mw3 #cod keegan #john price #cod mwf2 #soap cod #cod mwii #ghost simon riley

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random-thot-generator · 11 months

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Promises, Promises

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mac Tavish x Fem Reader

Summary: Soap has been trying to move your relationship out of the friend zone for months, and finally gets his chance when an innocent game of pool and a friendly wager lead to progressively dirtier tactics to make the other lose. Let’s just say Soap is “in it to win it” and makes a bold and filthy claim that he’s more than eager to prove to you.

Aaaand... then smut happens. Yeah, I know. Big surprise, right?

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, explicit sexual descriptions (bc that’s how I roll), thigh riding, oral- fem receiving, improper use of a pool table, Soap has a filthy mouth- for multiple reasons, no Y/N,

(N/A: This thot hit me Friday night and it’s been rotting my brain ever since, so I’m purging this smut. I was going to share it for Super Soap Sunday, but then my internet died, so you’re getting a MacTavish Monday special event. So, gather ‘round the pool table, my good hoes, and let’s get into this.)

Word Count: 4489

🎱

“Ah, c’mon, hen. Give it up. Ya know yer gaggin’ t’go out with me. Admit it. Yer mad fer me, ain’t ya?”

You rolled your eyes at the handsome sergeant sitting in front of you at the bar, a rueful little smile quirking up your lips. He didn’t even realize how right he was. You were mad for him, and that was the sad truth of it. Head over heels for him, in fact, but you would never admit it to the cocky Scottish bastard. His pretty head was big enough as it was, already.

You had decided a while ago that it was best to just stay friends with Johnny MacTavish. He liked to keep his sexual relationships casual, and you couldn’t do that with him. You already cared about him too much, and you didn’t want to go through the pain of losing him when another woman eventually caught his eye. It sucked not being able to have him the way you wanted him, but it was better than not having him at all.

“Oh, come on, Johnny. I doubt you could even find the time to take me on a date, considering how crazy your schedule is,” you pointed out, trying to deflect his advances. “Besides, weren’t you dating that redhead? What’s-her-name? You’ve not mentioned her in a while. Things not work out?”

Soap made a frustrated face, waving a dismissive hand. “Tha’ happened months ago, Ya know good an’ damn well it was jus’ a quick feck in the lavvy every once in awhile t’relieve some stress.”

You tried your best to ignore the ugly pang of jealousy that curled in your chest. “Relieve some stress, huh? And what’s got you so stressed? Your job?”

“’M stressed ‘cause ya won’t go out with me,” was his quick retort, giving you an impish grin. His blue eyes sparkled in the low light, and you felt your heart give a pitiful little flutter.

Shaking your head, you tossed your towel on the bar and huffed in exasperation. “What’s it going to take to get you off this? Besides, going on a date with you?”

His face fell into a pouting frown. “Don’t see why ya won’t do it. It’d be a proper date, none o’ that ‘Netflix an’ chill’ shite.” Then his frown morphed into a dirty little smirk. “We can do tha’ after the date,” he added, waggling his eyebrows.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“Aye, but I’m yer eejit.”

You wished.

Exhaling a weary sigh of resignation, you turned to check the clock on the wall. Finally. Closing time. “Last orders!” you shouted out to the pub at large. You glanced back at Johnny and pointed at his empty pint glass. “Do you want another?”

“Naw. ’M good.” He leaned his arms on the bar and smiled at you..

After the last of the customers had shuffled out, you locked the door behind them and started sweeping. Johnny jumped off his seat and began turning up the chairs and stools for you, then went to fetch the mop bucket from the supply closet. He had gotten into the habit of hanging out with you after hours and driving you home after you locked up for the night. On nights like this, he usually ended up passed out on your couch if he didn’t have to be back at base, his snores drowning out the telly. You didn’t know whether to be glad or disappointed that he had never tried to follow you to your bedroom.

Working together, you had the pub cleaned and the bar restocked in less than an hour. Ready to call it a night and go home, you went to turn off the lights when you spied a couple of cue sticks left out on the pool table, a few pool balls scattered about its felt top. Figuring what the hell, you picked up one of the cue sticks. Johnny grinned as he watched you line up a shot, knocking the two ball into a corner pocket with a satisfying crack.

“Didn’t know you could play, hen.”

You gave him a lopsided smile and shrugged as you took aim at the seven ball next. “My uncle taught me how.” You sank the seven in a side pocket.

“If I’d known tha’, I would’ve ‘challenged ya to a game. I’m pretty good myself, ya know. I bet I could take you.”

You quirked a brow at him. “Oh, yeah? Willing to place a friendly wager on it?”

He crossed his arms across his chest and smirked. “What d’ya have in mind?”

“If I win, I get to choose where we order takeaway, and you have to pay for it. If you win. I’ll pay your tab tomorrow night.”

“Alright. I’ll rack, you break. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The match was fairly even, Johnny just barely beating you by knocking in the eight ball first. You took the loss in stride, ready to put your cue stick away, when he stopped you. “Let’s go double or nothin’.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, cue stick held aloft to be slotted back in the wall rack. “What d’you mean? I have to pay for takeaway twice if I lose again?”

“Nooo,” he drawled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m changin’ the stakes. If I win, ya have t’go on that date with me.”

“Really? And if I win?”

He grinned. “Then I’ll let you take me out on a date.”

You scoffed, snickering at him. “Unh-unh. No, if I win, you have to stop pestering me for a date.”

He sniffed, frowning. “If tha’s what ya want,” he grumbled, pouting.

You dropped your chin, shooting him a dubious look. “I thought you were sure you could take me. What have you got to worry about?”

He sneered at you, unable to ignore the challenge. “Alright, hen. Just be prepared to pay up when ya lose, again, aye?”

This time you racked, and he broke. Two solids dropped in their pockets, and his grin went wide. “Best decide now what yer goin’ t’wear for our date, hen.” He gave you a cocky wink before lining up his next shot.

Left to his own devices, you knew he would end up running the table, and you couldn’t let that happen. Sidling up next to him, face simpering, you murmured in a high, sweet voice, “Who said I was planning on wearing anything, Johnny?”

His shot went wide and glanced off the cue ball, making him swear under his breath. He turned to glare at you. “Tha’ was a dirty trick.”

You giggled at him. “Oh no! You missed your shot. That’s too bad,” you crooned in mock sympathy, poking out your bottom lip.

“So, tha’s how it’s goin’ t’be, then?” He gave you a slow nod. “Alright then, hen. We’ll do this yer way. Jus’ remember, it was you tha’ started it.”

You grunted, not in the least bit intimidated. Let him talk all he wanted. You could ignore him if you had to. You walked around the table, choosing your next shot, then bent over to line it up. Just as you went to tap the cue ball, Johnny leaned over and breathed hot on the side of your neck. “Mm. Ya look good bent over like tha’, sweetheart,” he hummed low and filthy in your ear.

Goosebumps erupted all over your skin as you flinched away, your shot just barely tapping the ball you were aiming at. You gave him a baleful look. The bastard knew his voice always got to you. “That was a cheap shot.”

His grin was smarmy as hell as he patted you on the head. “No. That was a missed shot.” He bumped you out of the way. “Now, if yeh’ll excuse me, I got a game t’win.”

Ooh! That cheeky little shit. You’d be damned if you were going to let him get away with that. When he bent over to take his next shot, you ran your cue stick up between his legs and giggled when he startled, missing his shot. He spun around to pin you with a warning look as his lips pressed into a grim smile. He cupped your cheek, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip. “Keep it up, hen. See what ya get,” he told you, his voice gone sinfully low and husky.

You swallowed, feeling your belly swoop in arousal. Keeping a wary eye on him, you circled the table away from him and chose your next shot, being mindful of where he was standing. He remained on the opposite side, hands braced on the table’s edge, a salacious smile on his face. As you lined up to take your shot, he hummed, a dirty, rumbling purr that skittered up your backbone and made your lower belly grow warm. Your core pulsed in sympathy.

“Got t’say, love, ya got some gorgeous feckin’ chebs,” he commented, and you lifted your eyes to see he was peering straight down your shirt. “How ‘bout givin’ us a taste, hm?” he drawled, a wicked smirk tugging up the corners of his lips.

You shook your head, scowling. Just ignore him, you reminded yourself, but it was really hard to do that when you could feel your nipples tightening into hard little peaks. You growled under your breath and took your shot.

Johnny grimaced when you made it, scoffing, “Got lucky,” he mumbled.

Feeling like you had the upper hand, you strutted around the table until you were standing beside him again, then bumped him out the way. “Are we still talkin’ about this game or, uh... your game?” you asked, with a nasty little smirk.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “An’ what’s tha’ s’posed t’mean?”

You took another shot, sank another ball, then straightened to give him a sly smirk. “You talk a good game, Johnny, but you’re never gone for more than five or ten minutes when you sneak off with one of your little birds. The way I see it, if they managed to get off at all, it would have to be pure luck.”

His mouth fell open in shock, and an airy little giggle bubbled up out of your throat at his expression. You turned your back on him to line up your next shot, feeling all full of yourself and confident, but then gasped when you felt his hands take hold of your hips and tug you back against him.

His mouth was right at your ear when he rasped out, “So you’re timin’ me, are ya, hen? Are ya jealous? Hmm? Don’t you worry tha’ pretty head o’ yers, sweetheart. I promise, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll have ya screamin’ my name in five minutes. Give me ten, an’ I’ll have ya cummin’ 'round my cock.”

You literally shuddered at his words, a trembling breath stuttering out between your parted lips as lust coursed through you, hot and heady. Holy shit, were you actually shaking right now? Get your head back in the game, you silently admonished yourself. Averting your eyes, you sniffed in derision, “Please. You think you could get me off in five minutes?” you scoffed and shook your head, but there was little force behind your words with you voice gone all quavering and breathless.

He pressed himself closer, a low, filthy chuckle rumbling in his chest. “I’d get ya off in three, hen,” he murmured, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

Heat pulsed through your core and you felt your panties grow damp. Shit! You bit your bottom lip and did your best to maintain your composure. “Hah! Th-Three minutes? I call b-bullshit,” you stammered out.

His hands gripped your hips tighter and he pulled you right up against his crotch, letting you feel just how much this little back-and-forth was affecting him. He gave a slow rut of his hips, rubbing the bulge in his jeans on the swell of your ass. “I wouldn’t even have to use this on ya,” he taunted, rutting against you again. “Jus’ me mouth.” His tongue traced the curve of your ear.

A strangled little whimper caught in the back of your throat, your knuckles going white as you gripped the edge of the pool table. “F-Fuck, Johnny...”

His lips were skimming down your neck, his breath coming out in soft, hot pants against your skin. “Let me show ya what I can do fer ya, sweetheart. Let me be good to ya, make ya feel good, aye?”

He hadn’t even really touched you yet, but you could already feel your arousal seeping out of your clenching channel to pool in your panties. “W-We shouldn’t...” you breathed out, trying to argue, but then his hands slid around your waist, one hand trailing down until he was cupping your clothed pussy in his big hand. A low, guttural moan clawed its way out of your throat. Your knees gave a little wobble.

You were in trouble.

Of its own volition, your head tilted to the side to give him better access, and he groaned into your neck before he began trailing hot, wet kisses up to your ear. He caught the lobe between his teeth before pulling it between his lips to suckle at it. The hand cupping your pussy squeezed, and another filthy moan escaped your lips.

“Y feel s’good, love. S’feckin’ hot,” he whispered, and your heart gave a hard thud in your chest. When his hand came up to clutch at your breast through your shirt, you whimpered. He gave a frustrated growl and turned you in his arms, crowding you back against the pool table as his arms wrapped around your back, hands gripping and pulling at you. “Feck, let me kiss ya, hen. Please?” he asked, voice desperate and plaintive.

You peered up at him, enthralled by the darkened blue of his eyes, the expanded void of his pupils. The way he looked at you had your hands shooting up to grasp the sides of his head, pulling him down to crash his lips to yours. This time, he whimpered, melting into you for a brief moment, but he soon recovered and took charge of the kiss.

No one had ever kissed you like that before. There was hunger in his kiss, an aggression that spoke of pent-up lust and insatiable need. The fierceness of it had you gasping against his mouth, and Johhny, never one to miss an opportunity, delved between your parted lips, tangling his tongue with yours as he groaned into your mouth.

He had slotted his knee between your thighs while he kissed you, and he lifted it, now, notching it firmly against your aching sex. You whined at the contact, hips bucking on instinct to gain more friction for your swollen clit.

“Feck, tha’s it, love. Ride it,” he encouraged you. One hand supporting your back, he used the other to help guide your hips, hissing out curses as he dragged your aching pussy back and forth along his flexed thigh. “God, I bet yer feckin’ soaked, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”

You could only whine and drop your head to his shoulder as he slowly pushed and pulled you to the very edge of orgasm. “J-Johnny... I―”

“Jus’ let go fer me, love. Let it happen,” he crooned at your ear, pressing a kiss against your temple. “Jus’ like that. Tha’s it. Feckin’ hell, yer so beautiful like this. Cum fer me, sweetheart. C’mon. Let me have it.”

A wavering cry fell from your lips as your orgasm swept over you like tidal wave. Sparks danced behind your eyelids, and your body went slack in his arms as your knees clamped around his thigh.

“Tha’s good, sweetheart. Ride it out. Did so good fer me,” he murmured, grasping the nape of your neck as he helped grind you against him, not stopping until your legs gave out and released the vice grip on his thigh.

His voice and hands were both trembling as he caught you by the thighs and lifted you up to set you on the pool table, whispering praises in your ear. You could do little more than lean into him, pressing sloppy kisses at his throat as you pawed at his chest. “Oh, my god...” you breathed into his skin, panting.

His hands were rubbing circles over your back, giving you time to come down from your high. “I want ta make ya feel good, sweetheart, show ya what I can do fer ya. Will ya let me, love?”

You nodded like a dashboard bobble head, as you gasped out, “Yes! Please, Johnny.”

That’s all he needed to hear. Leaning past you, he swept his arm across the pool table, scattering the remaining pool balls in all different directions, before laying you back on the crimson felt. His hands went to the waist of your leggings, fingers curling into the material, giving them a quick tug. A sexy little smile appeared on his face when you eagerly lifted your hips to accommodate him. He pulled them down your legs, taking your underwear with them, giving a sharp inhale when his eyes finally landed on your slick lower lips.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathed, rushing to yank the shoes from your feet before stripping off your leggings and panties, and then tossed them aside. “Would ya look at tha’,” he whispered, brushing his thick knuckles down your wet slit. “Yer s’soft, love,” he murmured, bringing his hand up to his mouth to drag his tongue over the bony ridge. A grating moan was exhaled. “Mmm, ya taste so good, too.”

Your whimper came on the heels of the slick you could feel seeping out of your quivering folds, running along the seam of your pussy to drip onto the edge of the table. You were staring up at the ceiling in a daze, not caring what he did, so long as he touched you down there. “Johnny, wh-what are you―”

“Shh, love. Jus’ lay back an’ let me take care of ya. Tha’s a good girl.”

His hands were gliding up and down your sides, pausing briefly to massage your breasts. “Sweet Jaysus, cannae wait to see these,” he mumbled, brushing his thumbs over the nipples. He gave them a teasing little pinch, huffing out a breathy laugh when you whimpered and squirmed. “Sensitive little thing, ain’t ya, sweetheart?”

You threw an arm over your eyes, embarrassed. “C-Can’t help it. Don’t laugh.”

“No no, love,” he cooed, pulling your arm away. He leaned over you to stare into your eyes. “Not laughin’ at ya, love. I jus’ can’t believe I finally have ya like this.”

He pressed his lips to yours, sighing into the kiss. You could feel his cock flexing inside his jeans, straining to get out. He pressed himself against your weeping core, slowly grinding against you until you were whimpering again. “Can’t wait t’be inside ya, love, but there’s somethin’ I got t’do first.”

His body slid down yours, lips grazing over your sternum, kissing each breast, pushing your shirt further up to plant soft kisses over your belly and hips. He licked a wet stripe above your mound, catching your hips in his hands when you rolled them up into his face. “Bless me, the way ya move, hen. Drives me feckin’ mad.”

His pressed his nose into your sex and inhaled, moaning into it before you felt the first touch of his tongue. He had dipped the tip of it into your wet folds, flicking it over your clit, before drawing back as you jolted in his grip. You looked down your body, worried that you had done something wrong or did something he didn’t like, but when he lifted his eyes to meet yours, all you saw was the wolfish grin on his face and the devilish gleam in his eye. He fiddled with the watch on his wrist, removing it and noting the time, before pressing it into your hand.

“Keep an eye on it, hen,” he husked above your folds. “Remember. Three minutes.”

Your brows shot up, mouth gaping open. “Wha― Haaah! Fu-Fuck!”

Johnny didn’t waste any time, plunging his tongue into your wet heat. His hands were like vice grips on your bucking, squirming hips as he devoured you, making the most lewd, wet, sloppy sounds as he devoured you. He slurped at your juices, sucked at your clit, slithered his tongue up into your clenching channel, all while you mewled and cried and flailed, helpless against the onslaught. You could feel the orgasm building, rocketing towards that blissful peak, and you panted out his name again and again, your hands clutching at his head, not sure if you wanted to push him away or pull him in closer, it was so overwhelming.

He was lapping at you, snaking his tongue from your entrance up to your clit, swirling it around the taut little nub. When he sealed his lips around it and began flickering his tongue over it, you gasped, then a warbling cry flew past your lips when he drew it between his teeth and sucked, so hard. The cry turned to an escalating wail as your back came off the table, but his hands held you down, and he moaned into your pussy, the vibration sending you right over the edge.

Your climax hit you like a Mac truck, barreling out of your core in a rush of hot slick. You could hear Johnny, still buried between your legs, moaning and growling as he gorged himself, refusing to let a single drop escape his greedy mouth. Tremors shook through your frame, your legs flopping to either side of him, unable to control your shaking muscles. You were a virtual rag doll, helpless against his lewd ministrations as he drew your orgasm out to the very last quivering spasm.

You laid there, spent and shaking, heaving for breath, mind spiraling in a tailspin. You were barely aware of his hand coming up and taking his watch from your limp fingers, wondering at his grunt of satisfaction. At some point, he stood, and you could feel his hands on you again, petting you with soothing, languid strokes.

“Look at me, love,” he coaxed, cupping your cheek in his palm. “C’mon, sweetheart. Come back t’yer Johnny, now.”

You blinked your eyes open to see him hovering over you. The entire lower half of his face was smeared with your slick, lips swollen and shiny, a gleaming bright red hue. His mohawk was a wild, spiky mess, his flushed cheeks bunched up, blue eyes crinkled at the corners by the huge smile stretched across his face. “There’s my girl,” he whispered, before capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

You could taste your cum on his lips, on his tongue, and so help you, if you didn’t feel that heady swoop of arousal in your gut again. You were ruined. He had completely and utterly ruined you for anyone else, and he knew it.

He lifted his watch up in front of you, brows raised. “Two minutes, forrty-seven seconds,” he informed you, grinning. You huffed out an exasperated breath and rolled your eyes shut. “Ah-ah,” he murmured in a tender but teasing tone. “No hidin’ from me, now, love. C’mon. Open those pretty eyes fer me.”

You dragged open your heavy lids, peering up at him with hooded, glassy eyes. “What?” you rasped out, your voice gone husky from― God help you― screaming his name. Just like he said you would.

His face softened. “Are ya alright, lovie?” he asked, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It wasn’t too much, was it?”

Your hand came up to cradle his jaw, your thumb brushing over his swollen bottom lip. “I’m okay. Think I’m just still a little out of it. No one’s... Nobody has ever made me feel that way before, Johnny,”

If Johnny thought he had fallen for you before, he was dead certain of it now. Your confession sent him soaring into orbit, even as it melted his heart. “Yer never gettin’ rid o’ me now, hen. Yeh’ll have t’beat me off with a stick, an’ even then, I’d still come crawlin’ back t’ya.”

Your brow creased. “Don’t tease me like that, Johnny.”

He gave you a wry smile. “Not teasin’ ya, sweetheart. I mean it. I finally ― Jaysus, I finally got ya, an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya go.” He dipped his head down to catch your eyes. “I hope ya feel the same.”

You stared at him, eyes searching his face, looking for that smirk to appear, for him to say he was just messing with you, but all you saw was sincerity and affection reflected in his eyes. It felt like a weight lifted off your chest. “I do. Always have.”

His smile could have lit up the whole of London. “Aye?”

You smiled back at him and nodded. “Aye.”

He darted his head down to kiss you again, his hands starting to roam again with purpose. Your arms came to twine around his neck as his hands grasped your thighs and tugged you forward.

You broke the kiss, startled, and looked up at him. “What are you doing?”

He reached over and grabbed his watch, wrapping your fingers around it. “Did ya ferget what I told ya, lovie? Remember? I said I’d have ya screamin’ me name in five minutes, an’ have ya cummin’ on me cock in ten.” Your eyes went wide as he reached down and undid his belt and jeans, pushing them down til his cock sprang out. It smacked against his lower abdomen, and you gulped as you took in its length and girth. Apparently, they grew ‘em big in Scotland. Holy shit.

“Now, love,” he murmured, grasping your thighs and wrapping them around his waist. “I’d advise ya to hang on, ‘cause I’m about to make good on the rest o’ that promise.”

And let it never be said that Johnny MacTavish was nothing if not a man of his word. Needless to say, you didn’t make it into work the following evening, not the way you were walking.

#super soap sunday #cod soap smut #johnny soap mactavish x fem reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap x fem reader #mactavish monday

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alwaysshallow · 6 months

Text

boys trying to survive nnn with their partner (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)

a/n: if it wasn't for @blissful-bunny, there wouldn't be nnn. LMAOOO i hope y'all will enjoy, it's my first time doing something like this... and i think i don't hate it as i did before!

mdni, as always. nsfw below + keegan's version here

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Being around Ghost durning this time is funny, to say the least. You know about this bet from Gaz, when you invited the whole Task Force 141 for dinner. There wasn't much of a reaction from you, just a nod and a hum that's interesting to hear that. Nothing more, until your boyfriend's friends went home, and you stayed with him, washing dishes.

"You think you're gonna last?" you ask, and you pretty much can't stop yourself from laughing when he gives you a side eye.

"'s just a month." he grumbles, and you know, you somehow irritated him. Or, the bet did, you're not really sure. "Been through worse."

Theoretically, it is true. He's military, he has seen things that you won't ever see, something so stupid like this challenge shouldn't be something hard to do.

Practically? Practically, he takes every fucking chance to get closer to you. You're making breakfast, showering, washing the dishes? He's gonna be right behind you. It's not surprising at first, he liked to be near you always, but it has a malicious intent to it, when he drags his clothed cock up and down your ass, grunting right into your ear. He gets you worked up, and you're pretty sure he's gonna lose, but he stops right before he cums.

You can't really decide if it's funny or sad to see him like this. It's his pained expression that he gives when he bites on his lower lip, grumbling something about watching you touching yourself, so it will be better. You can't really say no to a man starved, so you put out a show for him, thinking how so much better his fingers would be in your pussy.

If it would depend on you, you'd kneel and relieve him, but what can you do, when he has this ridiculous challenge of his?

He breaks after two days, when he sees you in your shared gym, exercising. It's unexpected, when he puts down dumbbells you were working with, doing squats; you want to ask what's wrong, but when he lifts you up, your back hitting the wall, you just know. You even forgive him when he doesn't prep you enough, and he just thrusts into you without much thinking of it, his balls heavy.

You know you won't leave this gym for a long time.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"You're participating in what?"

To say it was weird, was one thing. To say that Kyle does it, was even weirder, especially that he was straight from two months of deployment. Needy. You knew it, as you were with him almost three years by now, he had always spent hours in bed with you because he missed you like a madman. These two months were pretty much the longest you've been separated with him, so, you can imagine your surprise, when you learned about the challenge, when you two were cleaning your apartment. He was touching you every now and then, giving you little kisses, and now he was talking about something like this.

"I'm—"

"—No, I heard you" you chuckled, shaking your head. "I'm like… trying to understand who convinced you to do so."

"Bet with Soap. Lad thinks 'm not gonna last with you." he murmurs, and you just know that this motherfucker made this as a personal challenge. So, you just nod your head, to Kyle's surprise on his pretty face. "That's… all you're gonna say?"

"What else I'm supposed to say?" you raise your eyebrow, amused. "That I feel sorry for you, this will do?"

"That ain't funny."

"It is, kind of funny." you grin, as you kiss his forehead, at which he closes his eyes, so you repeat kissing his forehead a few times. "I'm gonna support you in this, yeah? So it's gonna be easier."

It wasn't easier. You could see that he glances at you every now and then, when you are doing domestic things around the house, giving him little, encouraging smiles. Little do you know that Kyle's bulge is growing larger and larger every time he looks at you.

Gaz is pretty calm, at least until he sees you in his t-shirt (that is way too big for you) and just panties underneath, sitting right beside him with a bowl of popcorn. You two planned to watch a movie, but your boyfriend quickly brushes it off, as his hand wanders under the hem of your panties.

"Kyle, you—"

"I know." he almost growls, as he puts you on his lap.

The moment he feels your wetness, he's a gone man; he makes you ride him, and the challenge is just a fading memory, when his lips attack yours.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap is absolutely offended when everyone in Task Force 141 tells him he's gonna lose the challenge. He can't shut up about it for an hour straight, as he lays with his head on your lap, telling you something about celibacy and being true lover, not some "horny arse like the others". You listen to it with a small, amused smile on your lips because as much as you love your boyfriend, everyone is right about it.

He's not gonna last, and he knows it personally too, but you say nothing about it. You just listen to Johnny's ramblings, until his eyes are on you, observing your reaction so casually.

"What do ya think? 'm gonna beat it? Be the best?" he tilts his head like a puppy, squinting his eyes. It's an icy ground you're standing on right now.

"I think… it's gonna be hard." you answer; slowly, reluctantly. It's not something that he wants to hear though, as he groans, shaking his head with displeasure. "What? You asked!"

"I ken it's gonna be hard. 'm askin', if 'm gonna beat it" he emphasizes his last words, and you can feel he barely holds himself from rolling his eyes.

"…well, baby, as much as I have faith in you in other things…"

It's not a good answer for him, nor for a challenge, considering that you end up getting fucked by him – it's some kind of punishment, he tells you, when he folds you in half. He tells you that he also didn't lose the challenge, technically, as you had sex November 1st , at 3 a.m. You nod, hesitantly, so you could go to sleep without causing him to ramble about it again; you are exhausted.

It takes him three days of fucking you in various places to finally come into the conclusion that the challenge isn't for him. Three days of promising and hearing him whining that it's gonna be 'st the tip, baby, to feel you good.

"Good that you've figured that out." you say with a small smile, in restaurant's bathroom, his forehead against yours, as his cock is still buried deep inside you.

"Lasted longer than lads. Sure of that."

John Price

You want to think of your husband highly, when you hear of this stupid thingy. The authority, someone that leads the Task Force 141, setting the example for his younger proteges with his willpower. Someone who actually cares about engaging in challenges, even if they're stupid, even if he shouldn't even look at something like this.

Yet, you know John, you're married to him, for God's sake – and you know his sex drive. When this man is home, nothing and no one stops him from getting what he wants, and that's on you. In your mind, there's a core memory of him saying that he absolutely loves your pussy, multiple times.

So it's not a surprise that he doesn't participate in this challenge. It's not a surprise when he babbles about having kids with you while he fucks you wherever he can; kitchen counter, under the shower, your couch. His obsession over kids grew over this month more than ever, and you were happy to meet his expectations in a middle, since you thought of having a little angel in your small family for a longer time now. Having a dog wasn't enough.

A surprise comes when he proudly admits that he won in the end of the month. Boys are pretty much shocked by this, considering that their Captain didn't even look frustrated once, and he was in better mood than usual. Yet, they don't have a place to complain, so they accept the defeat with a frown on their faces, and a quick comment from Soap that he for sure cheated.

"You didn't win, honey." you laugh to him, sitting at his lap, when he's in his office, alone.

Price arches his eyebrow in amusement. "I did."

"That's not really—"

"Listen, we were tryin' for babies, weren't we? It wasn't egoistical fuckin'." he explains, completely serious.

It takes all in you not to either gasp or laugh again. "So, if it would be without the intention of making babies, you'd lose?"

He gives you a quick nod. "Exactly, missus. Exactly."

Alejandro Vargas

It's easy to last a few days for Alejandro. Maybe even a week, or a bit more. With his kind of work, being a Colonel, you often didn't see him for days, or even weeks if it was a bad time. Right now, with working over destroying a Mexican cartel, being home was rare for him. Was it saddening? Of course, but you knew what you were doing when you married him, you've talked with him about it for days, maybe weeks, even.

So, maybe that's why he didn't really think much of a challenge when he agreed to it, one of the nights he was drinking with Los Vaqueros. Just for fun, just to make a fun memory in this mess they were in. Days were passing in the blink of an eye with the same routine; a few hours of sleep if he's lucky, patrol, documents, action and repeat. Nothing too fancy, nothing too new for a man of war like he is, he got used to it all.

Harder was the moment he came home to you, where you were waiting for him with your open arms, all needy for his presence, for his touch, but somehow, somehow he managed, giving you the best orgasm of your life with his mouth only, even if he was in need too.

"Cariño?" he calls you, confused, when he doesn't see you in bed in the next morning. In his sweatpants only, he goes to the kitchen, following the sound of pan that sizzles lazily in the background.

"Makin' breakfast, Ale!" you reply, looking behind your shoulder with the biggest smile that slowly falters the moment you see his eyes darkening in the span of seconds. "What's with the face?"

He approaches you slowly, caging you between his arms. "Just… appreciating" he says, as he starts kissing your neck "my little wife. Who's been really patient with me, gone for so many days. And now, you're making me breakfast—" he groans, shaking his head. You can feel his growing bulge, as you grind your ass against it.

It's obvious that Colonel lost the challenge, after he arrives to his work with his wife, his arm possessively around her. Why? Maybe it's your neck covered in hickeys, your trembling legs, or his arms visibly scratched, but no one says anything about it in the base.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

You have a kind of forbidden romance with him; you're the one of Los Vaqueros, and the romance is absolutely prohibited here, to prevent the collapse of the squad. Not to mention that he's a right hand man of Alejandro, so he has to follows the rules directly. Maybe even more than anyone here, to be honest; setting an example that he's not a exception to the rule.

It doesn't help that you're so kind. That you nod every time you see him as a silent greeting, and then you rush to do whatever you have to do today. It doesn't help him that you're helping everyone around you with a smile that could light up the whole town, and he smiles every time he sees it, too.

Everyone pictures that Rudy would win the challenge easily, since in their heads, his head wasn't occupied with anyone, and he could easily withold himself with his desires.

And maybe he would. Maybe he would, if you weren't the one guarding the base with him, if you weren't the one who was smiling at him with those plump lips of yours.

"If you'd only know how much I thought about… hah—" his breaths are ragged, as the pace of his hips gets quicker. His lips finds yours, as he kisses you with such hunger, you know without a doubt that he means what he says. It automatically makes you smile.

"It's fate that binds us, then" you say, your fingernails clutching at his arms; you're sure that you're the creator of bloody crescents here, but you can't care less about it. Not when the man of your dreams is fucking you.

He smiles at your words.

Rudy never been a good liar, and you painfully learn it, when Alejandro asks him why he's so happy; as you stand nearby, you hear the whole conversation. It's cute in some way, the way he's a blabbering mess, without any sense of it.

It takes Colonel's one look at you, and he knows.

You never walked faster to your work, neither did Rudy.

Konig

If you think he's gonna even try playing at this, you're in deep denial. Maybe if he'd be alone he could try of a genuine curiosity, but not when he has you. Such a pretty, obedient girlfriend, that he has wrapped around his finger, and a girlfriend that is pretty much at his service every time he wants.

He's a man to laugh about that challenge with his squad, telling them that they're filthy, and he would last the whole month, maybe even longer, if it weren't for you. Because he's such a caring boyfriend, he listens to your needs, even if you're whiny.

At least, that's the story that his squad knows.

He tells you about this while he folds you in half, that he needs to act a little grumpy around his squad, to put a facade that he's hungry because it's the right thing to do. When you suggest that he could even try, he barks a low laugh, while he pumps his cock before thrusting into you.

"Schatz, as if. Not gonna play the kids game." it's all he says, kissing you with affection on your swollen lips. "I do not intend on torturing you like this. You wouldn't survive a day without my dick."

There's some truth to it — but you're truly wondering if that's you who wouldn't survive without his dick, or he, that wouldn't survive without your pussy and sex, considering he is even more of a maniac than you are.

dividers by cafekitsune

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sweet-as-an-angel · 8 months

Text

MW2 Reaction to You Being A Virgin

Warnings: 18+, Implications of Smut, Corruption Kink, Purity Kink, Innocence Kink, Ownership Kink, Age Gap, Implied Slight Yandere Graves Inexperience, Objectification, Dominant MW2, Soft MW2, Gaz is anxious :-( but trying his best, MW2 Trying To Be Smooth, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Ghost

The fact that you, innocent, are his to love and corrupt sends white-hot anticipation between his legs.

He’s imagined what you’d be like in bed: how you’d take him, the sounds you’d make. Of course he has – practically everyone on Base has.

But now, his fantasies are tinged with something feral. A primal need to show you that he is the best choice for you (even if he doesn’t believe it himself) – the only one strong enough and skilled enough to be yours and to make you his.

He’s fantasised about you looking up at him with doe eyes while he pins your wrists to the mattress, voice meek as you tell him, as if it’s a secret, that you’ve “Never done this before…”

He can’t live without it. The fact that he can – will – be your first time. Satisfy you in ways nobody else will ever be able to compete with.

He’d never admit it, but a dark part of him has plagued him with ideas of ravaging and corrupting you, about making your first time so pleasurable and carnal that nobody will ever be able to satisfy you as he can.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” he tells you, taking your chin between his fingers. He lowers his lips to your ear. You don’t see the dark gleam in his eye. Don’t see the deliciously dark idea cross his mind – the impulse to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to feel anything, nevermind pain. And he makes a promise to you anyway.

“I’ll take care of you.”

König

“Thought as much.” König’s words are blunt yet sharp.

“Seeing as you have everyone wrapped around your finger, it’s clear you have no regard for the way you conduct yourself.”

You may construe König’s words as mean. Derogatory, even. He means it as a compliment. Even if you don’t know it yet.

“You think I don’t see the way you flaunt yourself in front of the soldiers – thinking that you’ll be able to get away with it without consequence.”

König’s frame towers over you. His gaze is ice, and any trace of the socially anxious soldier you knew is gone.

“I wonder how you like it.” he muses aloud. His voice is tinged with something unreadable. Venomous.

“How you’ll take it. Rough, gentle…” His eyes narrow.

“Mean.”

He’s boxed you in with his stature alone.

“Makes no difference to me,” he tells you. Deceptively calm. And then, an offer. One you can’t refuse.

“I’ll fuck you every which way until I find what makes you scream the loudest.”

Soap

“Oh, really?” he says, eyebrow quirked and a hidden smile teasing his lips.

Johnny really couldn’t care less that you’ve never had sex before. But, the fact that you shared this information with him – albeit after he steered the conversation towards more…intimate topics – gave him hope that you were hinting towards something.

Something that Johnny’s wanted since he realised he was massively, whorishly down bad for you.

From his position opposite you, against the kitchen counter, he takes a step forward.

“I suppose you’re not very experienced then, are you?”

He advances until he’s in front of you. A wolf and a lamb. Close enough that you can smell his cologne.

His eyes are piercing, but there is a softness behind them. Something that writhes and wants and needs.

His hands come to rest upon the counter behind you. Nowhere for you to run. The heat from his body is scorching.

“Though, I’d be more than happy to…” His voice husks. “Beef up your résumé.”

Valeria

Corruption kink to the MAX

Valeria is a territorial, dominant woman – that much is easy to see.

And the fact that you haven’t had anyone else before her just does something to her.

Alters her brain chemistry permanently.

There’s not one soldier, police officer or government official she doesn’t own in Las Almas.

So why shouldn’t she own you, too?

Now she’s thinking of every conceivable way she’s going to take ownership of you.

She thinks about it so often that she struggles to complete her paperwork without having to disperse the issue before she can continue.

But be warned: there will come a day when satisfying herself just won’t cut it. When she’s going to seek you out and ruin you.

“It might hurt at first, mi Amor,” she tells you, hand stroking your cheek, coming down to your jaw. “But trust me when I say that–”

Her hand grips your jaw. Tight. A viper’s strike. A fire burns in her eyes and the corners of her lips curl up in a cruel smile.

“I’ll make it hurt a whole lot more if you don’t do as I say.”

Price

Given his age, Price has had his fair share of experiences.

But that doesn’t harden him to the simple fact that you haven’t.

In his eyes, there’s something endearing about how you’ve yet to give yourself to another person.

Another person that, he hopes, will someday be him.

The idea makes something in him stir. The fact that the difference between your age and his makes him that much more confident in his ability to please you in ways no mere boy can makes him anxious to act.

“Oh. Is that right, Love?” He says, eyes light and his smile dangerous.

“S’ppose you’re waiting for the right person.” His posture is inviting. Tempting. Belies the rush he’s feeling — the desire to have you at his mercy in the most carnal sense.

“Pretty little thing like you, you could have your fill of men.”

He’s angling for something. His face says it all.

He steps towards you. Again. Again. He’s in front of you.

His chest is almost to yours. His smile is shallow now. Strained. Like his pants.

“Probably looking for someone with experience.”

He thrives on the way your chest flutters. His does, too, but it’s masked beneath a heavy stare.

“And trust me, Love,” his voice is low. A message for you and you alone as he brings his lips to your ear, breath hot against your skin.

“I’ve got plenty to spare.”

Horangi

You don’t hear it for his mask, but Horangi lets out a shuttered breath.

“That’s why you’re always so quiet when sex talk comes up.”

He says it as a fact, but you take it as a question. You nod.

Horangi’s arms unfurl from his chest, come to rest at his sides. He’s looking at you.

Even through the layers of his mask, his gaze is heavy. Leaden.

He steps towards you. His frame, broad, fills your vision.

You can hear how heavy his breathing has become. How thick the air is.

How much he’s trying to restrain himself.

“How about a deal,” he proposes. Commands.

“You give me something to have a nice, long, hard think about,” his hips are to yours. You feel him pressing against you.

“And I’ll give you something to talk about.”

Alejandro

“You surprise me, mi amor,” he says, natural as anything. As if he already knew.

“I’d have thought someone would have swooped in and claimed you by now.”

Truth be told, Alejandro wanted to be that somebody so badly that it made him ache in places he’d rather not think about. Especially when you’re already making containing himself incredibly difficult with that pouting, wide-eyed, innocent look.

God, you had no idea what you were doing to him.

“Or…are you saving yourself for someone specific?”

Before you, his frame is broad and imposing even without all his military gear on.

He takes your chin between his fingers. Tilts your head so your gaze can’t escape his. A shiver runs up his spine at the sound of your breath stuttering.

His words aren’t rhetorical. He’s pulled the answer from you – seen it in your eyes.

“Or are you just waiting for a man who knows how to take care of you?”

Rodolfo

“O-oh!” Rudy chokes out. His cheeks are already giving way to a telltale pink. He tries to cover it.

“But– you’re so pretty and smart and kind – I thought you’d have a boyfriend by now!”

In some ways, Rudy’s a bit of a traditionalist: his mind still jumps to the idea that you’d typically only be intimate with someone you’re already in a relationship with.

Not that he’d judge you if this were not the case for you.

But he sees his chance. And he takes it.

“Well, if you’re not with anyone, then…would you like to go out sometime? With me?”

His eyes are wide and filled with hope – something you’d never have expected from a man in such a brutal line of work.

Sex is the last thing on his mind right now: truly, he’s so taken in with the idea that you’re single and available that your sexual status means very little to him.

Though, that isn’t to say he hasn’t thought about you like that before, or that he hasn’t spent many a night with his face smothered with pillows as your name escapes from between his lips, panting, moaning.

That’s a little secret for you to uncover later in your relationship…

Graves

“So you’re tellin’ me that no one’s had the privilege of fuckin’ that pretty little ass of yours?”

Graves sure has a way with words.

For all his slimy business practices, this is the one time he’s genuinely surprised. Unable to be slick.

He puts his game face on. Gives you a half-lidded stare and lowers his voice. His heart hammers: he conceals it behind a cool tone.

“Well, colour me impressed, Angel,” he says. A hand comes to the hem of your shirt, takes it between slow, intentional fingers. He has to resist the urge to look at your chest when he pulls the fabric taut.

“And here I was thinkin’ I already knew everything about you.”

He’s moving in before you can analyse his statement. Before you can begin to understand how badly this man has lusted after you – how deeply entrenched in your life he’s become. And all without you knowing.

He places a hand on the wall behind you. Presses himself closer to you.

“How much to let me be the first,” he drawls. Your eyes widen. His thin smile grows.

“And last.”

Gaz

Bless his little cotton socks, he doesn’t know what to do with both this information and himself.

See, despite being incredibly intelligent, Gaz is still the youngest of the 141, so he’s not entirely accustomed to situations like this.

He can’t tell if you’re hinting, flirting, or just telling him something about yourself.

He remembers what Soap taught him, though.

Should a situation arise where someone is flirting with you, just use your intuition and don’t fuck it up.

Gaz leans against the doorframe, almost misses, scrambles to resume his ideal posture.

“Oh, so we’re more similar than you’d think, then.”

He can feel Soap banging his head against a wall. Jesus, Gaz – at least try to impress (Y/N) !

At your raised eyebrow and your playful “Oh?” Gaz coughs. His voice lowers.

“But…” he steps closer. “Maybe we can un-virgin each other.”

Long story short, Gaz has no idea what he’s talking about. But, somehow, his nervous disposition and pretty boy charm have enamoured you. And you may have told him you’d take him up on his offer 👀.

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