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grimace-writes · 4 months

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New Kid in Town *.•.*•

No.1

GN!Reader x Task Force 141 (feat. Alejandro + Roldolfo)

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |

Summary: Reader’s first day on base meeting the team.

Word count: 1670

(3rd Person POV | They/Them so anyone can read :) | Early to Mid Twenties)

Mentions of Anxiety/Panic Attack.

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“Just remember to give it your all, kiddo! They’ll love you”

The words of their mentor ran through their mind as the plane landed on the strip, the rattling of the cabin alerting them of their arrival. It felt like dumb luck that they were chosen as a new addition for Task Force 141, hand selected by Captain John Price himself. Being a military brat meant they were basically trained from birth for active duty, {Y/N}’s skills were highly respected by their superiors (no matter how much they had their own doubts).

Sun rays filled {Y/N}’s eyes as they used their free hand to shade their face enough to make the descent down the stairs safer. There waited for them was a young man with dark skin around his late-twenties next to Capt. Price, {Y/N} assumed the man was one of his new teammates.

“Greeting {C/N}. Glad to see you again, mate. I hope the flight here didn’t treat ya too badly..” Price shook their hand with a warm smile on his lips, he gestured to his left toward the other male “..Meet Sergeant Kyle Garrick.. Code name Gaz. He’ll be acting as your guide around the base as I’m busy with a few meetings I have today. I was hoping to show you around myself, but it couldn’t be helped. Speaking of which, I’m a tad late..See ya at lunch” The older male sighed giving {Y/N}’s shoulder a welcoming squeeze as he gave Gaz a wink before leaving the two of them.

Y/N turned their attention to the slightly taller male for further instruction, they were able to take a better look at him. He was so youthful and frankly handsome, his light facial hair outlined his jaw nicely, his smile caused their chest to feel warmer. Gaz stood with confidence as he held his hand out to {Y/N} “Sup, like the cap said, I’m Gaz.”

‘This might not actually be so bad..’

They took Gaz’s hand in a firm handshake, as they did so Gaz pulled them into a bro-hug, his smile never breaking. “It’s great to finally have someone on the team closer in age. Let’s start this tour with your room, so you don’t have to lug that around the whole time.” Gaz let {Y/N} go walking towards the hanger, leaving them a little dumbfounded by the sudden physical contact.

‘Mmmm..Not what I was expecting, Gaz is a hugger, noted. I wonder if the others will be the same..’ They thought to themselves slinging their duffle bag over their shoulder, taking long strides to catch up with their interesting colleague.

Gaz filled the silence between them with small details of the base, from passing the training halls to the recreation area as they made the long way to the barracks (basically showing them everything). {Y/N} started to feel a slight annoyance start to build in their mind as they recalled what Gaz said earlier, it seemed they ended up just carrying their stuff the whole way. The feeling spiked as the two finally made it to their destination and Gaz had a cheeky smirk on his lip. He leaned against the frame of {Y/N}’s new room, luckily for them the base had adequate space for each member of 141 to have private quarters.

{Y/N} smacked their lips towards Gaz causing the male to snort in response, they placed their hand on that door handle but stopped themselves before proceeding. “Is it unlocked?” They asked, not wanting to feed into Gaz’s mischief further, all they wanted was to unpack and take a few minutes to settle in.

“Yeah, don’t worry I’m not gonna make you run into the door. Plus the key should be inside, along with a small map of the base just in case. Though I’m an awesome tour guide so I doubt you’ll be needing it.” Gaz boasted himself, this time it was {Y/N} who scoffed.

“Absolutely, one hundred percent..” They said, opening the door to the 140 square foot room, which was furnished with a plain colored full sized bed, a large wardrobe, and a basic oak desk and matching desk chair. {Y/N} placed the duffle bag on the bed then laced their fingers together to quickly stretch and crack them. They hummed at the satisfying feeling it gave as he turned back to Gaz who was now standing in the doorway.

“Since I showed you everything, I’m gonna leave you to hang out and settle in before lunch time. I’ll be in the training hall if you need anything or get bored. See you later, {C/N}” He said, closing the door for them with a small wave, which they returned.

They waited a few minutes before they let out the deep sigh they didn’t realize they were holding in. Pushing the bag to the end of the end, {Y/N} crawled onto to bed, creaking under their weight. They wrapped their arms around their head, moving their legs close to their chest as they hid into themselves. From learning of their new post to the moment they stepped foot on base, the situation hadn’t set in until now.

The intense sound of their heartbeat filled the negative space, minutes felt like hours whilst they laid curled into themselves. They meekly hummed a snippet of a song their Mother would sing when {Y/N} would have episodes like this at home. It had been a while since they felt so frightened by a decision, they always went from one mission to another like they were ordered to do. The feeling of making their own decision on their career was so freeing yet so overwhelming, it made their head spin and their heart sink. {Y/N} took a couple deep breaths then stretched their limbs out, sitting up on their bed to check the time. ‘Only twenty minutes..That’s good, I didn’t waste too much time.’

They moved off the bed over to the desk, picking up the simple key ring with a single key on it that laid on a map of the base. They ran their thumb over the key, the cool metal feeling nice on their warm skin, before placing it back on the desk. They thought the best next course of action was to unpack, change into their new uniform, then head to meet up with the rest of their team for lunch. It took them only 30 minutes to finish their tasks before they made their way out of their room, locking the door behind them as they went. {Y/N} had the map folded in their pocket just in case, but Gaz in fact was a good tour guide, so getting to their destination was easy.

The sound of a few men laughing echoed through the hallway leading to the entrance of the mess hall, which was more like a mini makeshift dining and recreation room with a decent sized kitchen area. The team had strong feelings their bond would grow stronger if they made homemade meals together. As {Y/N} entered the room, they saw Price by the stove with a gentle looking Hispanic man chopping vegetables nearby. Sitting at the table was Gaz, along with another Hispanic man widely smiling, a loud laughing Scottish Man, and..{Y/N} almost couldn’t believe their eyes as the Ghost sat with the rest of his teammates. Alongside Capt.Price, his reputation was well known, even his mentor had a run in with Ghost.

Gaz was the first one to acknowledge {Y/N}’s presence in the room as he waved his hand high, greeting them in a chipper tone. “Hey {C/N}. Glad to see you decided to join us, time to meet the rest of the gang.” {Y/N} took a seat next to the excited male, looking at each person as they were introduced. “First off, we have Sergeant John Mactavish call him Soap..” Said male flashed {Y/N} a flirtatious smile with a wink. “..Then, Colonel Alejandro Vargas of the Mexican Special Forces," Alejandro raised his glass as a welcoming gesture. "As well as his second in command Sergeant Major Roldolfo Parra or Rudy. He’s the one next to Price over there.”

Rudy turned to the table after hearing his name to wave at {Y/N}, his smile was as warm and welcoming at Price’s was. Their attention turned to the final member to be introduced, his gaze intense making them feel a bit nervous. “Last but not least, we have Lieutenant Simon Riley better known as Ghost.” The lieutenant gave his new teammate a nod for a reply, turning his gaze to a different part of the room. “Don’t take his cold shoulder personally, the LT is a big softie when you get to know him.” Soap chimed in causing Gaz and Ale to snicker.

“Either way it’s nice to meet you all. I’m Sergeant {F/N L/N], my alias is {C/N}. I look forward to working with you all.” They spoke confidently as they sat back in their chair, feeling more part of the group as they chatted. They were asked about little things like where they were from and their experiences to their hobbies and interests. It was mainly Gaz, Soap, and Ale who asked, Ghost just sat there listening intently locking away their answers for future use.

The conversation ended when Price and Rudy placed the components of their shared meal onto the table. Soap and Gaz were instructed to grab plates and utensils as {Y/N}, Ghost, and Ale took turns washing their hands. During their chat it was explained how chores and meal prep were divided equally amongst them, with {Y/N} now here they would have to do some adjustments. Any anxiety or doubts about joining were starting to melt away as they ate and laughed amongst their new colleagues.

‘This really isn’t gonna be so bad..’

•*.•*~To Be Continued~*•.*•

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Author Note: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story. Let me know what you think, Love Love~ 💕💕

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |

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v1x3n · 1 month

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metallictastinglifesupportliquid · 1 month

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Y/N: I cant believe we're locked in this room together Ghost, throwing the key out of the window: Truly unfortunate

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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months

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What lies within (Tentacle!Monster!Konig x fem!Reader)

It's mating season for monster hybrids. Unfortunately for you, the colonel didn't have time to dump his eggs everywhere. TW and tags: Non-con, size difference, oviposition, monster hybrids, forced breeding, belly bulging, yandere Konig, possessive Konig, tentacles, double penetration. Word count: 3278

The brave new world of opportunities for monsters.

The illustrious life for those who are not afraid of being a hunter in the billion flocks of weak, stupid prey.

There are endless possibilities for the ones who decide to serve in the various armed forces specifically tailored to monsters.

And loads of other bullshit that König had to endure every day on the briefs. Propaganda, advertisement, and weak attempts to make a new generation of monster hybrids abandon their old ways and join either army or contracting forces, making them glorified mercenaries. Jaided and disillusioned, the colonel long abandoned the thoughts that service can be fun, that it can bring him something other than money and occasional bullets in various places.

“Most inclusive workplaces for monsters,” his ass. They were fed bullshit on top of other bullshit, and he is already tired of war – but there isn’t much he can do besides it. The payment is nice, he gets to eat his enemies and tears through entire units of squishy, weak humans who make perfect snacks from their useless fucking bodies.

— So. Abandoned by your team, ja?

Unfortunately for him, sometimes war operations meant that he was not supposed to eat prisoners – he was supposed to take them, hoard them into rounds, and send them for either ransom or whatever higher-ups wanted to do with them. Sometimes, it’s torture for information, sometimes, it’s attempts to bring them to their side if they are worth it.

Sometimes, he just looked in the eyes of a soft, squishy little prey and just couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger.

Well…” sometimes” is a very big word. He had never once thought about keeping the POW for himself before he met this stupidly beautiful, soft nurse with a perfect face, nice pair of legs in that ugly baggy uniform, and the most beautiful scent in the entire…

He never thought of keeping the prisoner for himself before he met you.

It was supposed to be an easy mission for you – he can see it from your lack of normal armor. Either you had no idea that KorTac had their own plans for whatever you wanted to do here, or your contractor is extremely cheap. He likes either way – you smell like a human, and he likes dumb humans who would make perfect victims. You smell and look weak, trembling, perfect fucking pray for someone like him. König didn’t feel the need to transform for this battle. Your team ran away like a bunch of bunnies before he ever fired his first shot, but he could still feel his tentacles slowly stir under his hood. He can feel his body transforming without the need to – and he feels the pressure in his lower stomach.

When was the last time he was able to put his eggs somewhere other that cold, unforgiving air?

Even the bagginess of your uniform doesn’t obscure him from looking at the sway of your hips, at the perfect surface of your tummy, and feeling the smell of your ripe, fertile body. Having a strong sense of smell always came like a curse in the team of monsters where showering after a mission isn’t something that is done by many, buy König can appreciate his nose now – he can smell how perfect you are for breeding. How scared, too.

Poor thing, probably terrified of his. König knows how he looks, even in his human form – tall, broad, bigger than any man you saw before, so much more muscular that even with your military training as a combat nurse, he could still break your spine with one hand. His size is something that made it impossible to find a partner normal ways – monsters are naturally too dominant to ever submit to him, and humans are simply too scared to deal with someone like him. He isn’t surprised, no – if anything, he understands completely.

You sob, your voice is melting with incomprehensible pleas and little whines. You are shaking under him – a poor, dumb girl who wasn’t aware that her best shot at surviving was to try and shoot his crotch off before he pulled a gun out of your hands.

— Pl…please, you can’t…you can’t do this! It’s a crime, I was on medical duty, it’s…

König likes humans because they are dumb. Civilian humans are even cuter – run around, thinking their lives are protected by sets of laws and rules that, in fact, don’t apply to the strong – and you, in your full half-military half-civvie glory, are fucking perfect. You whine and sib, tears running down your face when he presses you under him. Your hand hits the hard rocks of the ground, and he shifts slightly, dragging you closer to a softer patch of grass.

He laughs when you are trying to scramble from under him, your lower half is pinned by his weight – he is surprised you can still move. You move your pelvis, trying to get out – and he moans quietly when you start rubbing your crotch against his. You freeze, fear spreading on your face – god, he missed that feeling. When was the last time he got to actually breed someone? Or even just have sex with someone as cute?

— You really think so, Schatzen? That rules will protect you?

He moves his crotch against yours, making you sob a bit more. You’re sweet and compliant, and he just loves breaking soft things like you – it’s a desire to break, to destroy, to make you his. He knows that, technically, forcing himself on women from enemy lines really is a war crime. He also knows that if he’d managed to breed you with his eggs, monster laws would never allow you to separate after mating.

Besides, it's not like he is going to let you go, so you could tell on him. König never believed in love at first sight, but you would be a perfect vessel for his eggs and his tentacles – what else would he need from a wife, right?

— You’re pretty.

He says plainly, his hand goes to rub your chest through the fabric of your uniform. You won’t need those ugly clothes anymore – he’d make sure to buy you something nice and frail that won’t make you too uncomfortable to carry his eggs. Maybe a soft, frail dress or some of those cute maternity clothes when your body starts to change. He can’t wait to see his breasts swelling with milk – even if his unfertilized eggs won’t need it, he certainly would. Even if you’re too weak to handle his load, he’d make sure to get you a nice, firm plug and keep you on his tentacles constantly.

You start to sob even more when you understand what he is trying to do – when he rips your pants to reveal the softness of your cunt and the fragility of your [anties, you actually manage to push your legs against his dick a good few times. He is too aroused to notice – if anything, he likes how fiery you are, your little yells and loud screams for help. No one will come to aid you – he barked the orders for his soldiers to go and fuck around somewhere else while he was busy devouring his little prize. Colonel doesn’t like having an audience – if anything, he is saving your dignity right now. If anything, he is remarkably soft when he pushes one of his long, red tendrils down your body, massaging your pussy through your panties.

You’re moist already when his tentacle finds a way to your labia. What a slutty nurse you are – getting off the enemy colonel breeding you in the middle of the battlefield. Your tears mean nothing when he is too busy massaging and pressing and playing with your sticky, puffy folds – poor girl, so deprived of attention that even the weird texture of his extensions only fuels your desire.

So fragile, so perfect – and so, so wet that your adorable white panties are already become transparent, sticking to your soft pussy. When he takes you home, he’d make sure to forbid you from wearing any underwear at all – you would meet him dressing in nothing but his shirts, a hand on your tummy to support the weight of your eggs. Walls of your pussy clenching on the plug he’d make to insert in you every morning.

— Don’t…please, don’t, n…

You whine ever so sweetly, trying to close your legs so he won’t be able to touch you. It’s futile, just one of his tendrils is ten times stronger than your hands. He gets through your closed legs, buried in the moistness of your sweet, perfect pussy. You taste heavenly – just one minute enough to make him hungrier than before. König’s mating season was often postponed due to constant adrenaline rushes and things he takes to enhance his battle abilities – but he can feel eggs pressing at the inside of his body now, preparing to be released in the sweet heat of your body. But he has to prepare you first.

— Quiet now. It won’t hurt unless you want it to.

His tendrils are coming to moisten your pussy even more – sweet numbness filling your body from the lower stomach and right to your head. Knowing that you must feel dizzy and just a tad bit dumb, König can’t wait but chuckle. He likes you empty-headed, adorable dumbness in your eyes. He knows that he doesn’t know you, that you might even already have a boyfriend on the civil side of your life – but he doesn’t care. His mind doesn’t easily fall for just anyone, but if he saw a perfect vessel in you, there is no escape. At least he is nice enough to be gentle.

You whimper slightly when he pushes the first tendril inside of you. Too impatient to use his hands or tongue to make you feel a bit more at ease – after all, you are still on the battlefield, even if your friends abandoned you to get picked up by KorTac. Too impatient to soothe you with his words, he uses one of his smaller, thinner tentacles to push your pussy walls, make you squeeze him and milk for all his worth. You are wet, but not enough to take him without crying. Hot and soft, the cold texture of his extensions contrasts with your body too much – you are shaking, he can feel slight vibrations at the soft walls of yours.

Fitting him like a glove, too perfect to exist – he just wants to take you with him, to flip you on your tummy and push all of his tentacles inside. You’re tight and warm, you make him go crazy from desire. It’s weird how a strong and mighty colonel can be so charmed by just some enemy nurse, but when you whine slightly and try to adjust your body to fit more comfortably under him, he just knows that he has to take you. That, no matter how much you are crying and praying for him to stop, you want to be used by him. Perhaps, with certain training, you would want his eggs, too.

Second tendril caught you by surprise. Just when you started to adjust to the weird, slimy feeling of something writhing inside of you, spreading your tight walls around it and clashing with the heat of your insides, a second, bigger one started to press on your clenched folds. You wanted to beg, to ask him to stop – you’re too tight for this, too small, you would never be able to take even just one of his tentacles, you were…

But his tendrils press easily, he accesses lube spreading between your legs. You are sobbing from the feeling, and he is laughing. His hand goes to rip the upper part of your clothing, revealing your midriff. Fingers pressing on your tummy, just to feel his tentacles inside – he laughs when the skin of your stomach is tensed up, revealing the outlines of his extension. God, he can’t wait to make your body swell from him. Even though the eggs are not bearing his children, he can imagine you and a bunch of little ones – you’d look much better like this than pretending to be a nurse. Honestly, what were you even trying to do on the battlefield?

— Stay still, ja?

— Too much! Please, n…no more…

— Poor thing. You’ll feel so much better after I add the third one.

He knows that he is overstepping a bit, that your body isn’t used to taking something as big as his tentacles – but König also knows that his pre-cum makes you feel dizzy warm. Acting like a natural aphrodisiac, you won't be able to resist relaxing under him. The lubricant is enough to allow his other tentacle to force himself in your ass – he isn’t going to breed that hole yet, but it doesn't mean that he can’t use it.

He groans loudly when your asshole clenches around him – he had to stretch you quite a bit, that sweet numbness of his precum isn’t making you relaxed enough to take him whole, but he is managing, one agonizing centimeter after another. At the point you’re out of breath, with your face all flushed, he already knows he fucking won – he knows that you, poor, fragile thing, isn’t going anywhere. He would say that he feels horrible about forcing you like this – but this is the start of a new, better life for you. Being the bride of a monster of his rank is a dream for any lowly human like you. Can go as far as to say you’re lucky he ever laid his eyes on you.

— Stop, please…’s too much.

— You feel good, Katzen. Relax, and you’ll be even better.

— I don’t…please, just let me go, I…

— Is this your first time with a monster?

— Yes.

— Gut. Would break you in for me.

He laughs at your whimpers, his hand goes to cradle your face in an almost soft expression. He gently presses his fingers across your skin, making you all nice and warm for him – he wants to kiss you all over, but the only thing he can do in his more monstrous form is to press one of his shorter tentacles against your lips, mocking the way normal people kiss. You sob, but he presses the tip on your mouth, passing it through your teeth – you would feel better after ingesting his pre-cum, can even clench around him so more, chasing your own pleasure.

König wants you to feel good, so he presses his hand against your face, allowing you to tremble and cry as much as you want. He wants to be nice to you, so his other hand presses on your clit, finding the tense bud and breaking the nothingness between your legs. You tremble even more when he starts to spread your folds around his fingers, both of his tentacles working to milk your holes and spread you as much as possible.

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear when both of the tendrils working on your pussy suddenly change their direction – they start to spread your walls instead of just fucking it. You feel exposed and vulnerable, he can see the pink flesh and glossiness of your cunt. It’s embarrassing for you, and he knows it – but god, you’re too fucking perfect to pass.

You don’t even manage to ask him what he is doing when you feel something much larger pressing against your pussy. The biggest of his tentacles – almost as thick as an arm, pushing inside of you. He had a purpose, a desire to do something with you that you could never understand – silly humans know nothing about his biological need to push his eggs somewhere, of course, but you’re just fucking perfect. Too perfect to pass on this opportunity.

You plead and cry when he presses further, a little bump on your tummy is obvious now, with each centimeter of his tendril pushing. When he finally bottoms inside of you, pressing directly against your cervix, you are too fucked out to even think.

It’s painful, you think. Three thick tentacles roam inside your pussy, pushing and grinding against your gummy, tight walls – and another one of his extensions in your ass, writhing and massaging your insides.

It’s pleasurable, you feel. The tentacles are uneven, cold, each little bump makes you cry out from pleasure, the overwhelming feeling is something you could never achieve with a normal dick. He cradles your face and chuckles softly when you moan and cry at the same time when he gently presses his red tendril against your soft lips, and you part them because you don’t want to resist anymore. Because you can’t resist anymore.

— So good for me. Such a good girl, liked being fucked by the enemy.

— I don’t like it! He laughs at your misery, pushing his tentacles back only to fuck you harder. He can feel the tension multiply in his stomach – he feels the movement of eggs forming from inside and pushing down the biggest one of his tendrils.

When you first feel the pressure of an egg in your pussy, you want to scream.

You scratch on his hands like a wild cat, clenching on him like crazy. If he didn’t see horror and shock on your face, he’d think you wanted him. You are tight, tighter than you were before – your pussy is closing around him, not letting him go, and he can only smile to himself when he feels every little bump sending electric shocks right into your core when you feel his eggs traveling from the start of his tendrils down, to your soft, welcoming womb.

God, you will look perfect, all swollen and helpless – he can bring you a fucking collar, maybe push you on his lap and parade you as his precious wife for everyone to see. His scent lingers on your body, no matter if you want it or not. Silly human, you try to fight him like you didn’t lose the moment you let him pin your body. So perfect, he thinks of where you were before he found you. How many partners do you have, and how well would you play the role of his little breeding machine.

He massages your tummy, with each egg taking its place in your womb. Soothes tense skin and whispers sweet promises in your ear when you cry and try to push him away. So perfect, so sweet for him – he doesn’t know the fuck he lived without you.

When the last egg takes its place, making you bulge from all the weight inside of you, he can finally calm himself down enough to bring his human form partially. When he finally retracted his tentacles from your tired, sensitive body, not forgetting to press against your clit a good few times to prolong your unwanted, exhausting orgasm, he could finally press a kiss on your lips.

You’re a mess – torn clothes, covered in cum and thick transparent slime, trembling and crying softly. You close your pussy around every one of his eggs like a good girl, and he knows you would be a perfect mating partner – but god, you need a good shower and soft mattress so he can try to fuck you again in his human form, and steal all the hugs and silly affections he wanted.

— Will you let me go?

He laughs, picking you up swiftly. So fragile in his hands, he doesn’t even want to think about letting you roam freely.

— Of course not, Schatzen. Just get used to it, ja?

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere

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poquiii · 1 year

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König x reader / Ghost x reader headcanons

You're sitting on their lap.

Ghost

● He's not a fan of PDA and acts cold in public.

● But when you're alone, he likes bodily contact with you.

● You walk by and he grabs you by the waist, pulling you toward him and gently placing you in his lap.

● He likes to feel your weight on his muscular thighs.

● He touches your ear with his lips and tickles your skin with his breath.

● You giggle and he presses you closer to him.

● If you start fidgeting on him, (on purpose or not) he quickly swaps places with you and pushes you under him. And of course you don't mind.

König

● He really likes your touch in any form.

● And he especially loves the way you sit on his lap with your arms around his neck.

● You weigh almost nothing to him or he just doesn't notice it.

● He loves to hug you back and nuzzle you against his huge chest.

● He loves to interrupt your hair with his fingers.

● If you fall asleep in his arms, he's happy to doze off with you.

● He's willing to sit with you like this for hours.

● And even when his feet get stiff, he won't let you get off him.

My AO3 🖤

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mitoad · 1 month

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everyone always talks about ‘medic reader’ this and ‘teammate reader’ that but what abt weapons engineer/mechanic reader ?

just a silly little fella who helps out the 141 with their weapons when they go out of whack, who works very closely with the team to coordinate certain weapons for specific missions .

they’d probably have a really close bond with soap , both having fun with testing demolitions together . who’s able to add in ideas and carry conversations with you when you ramble on about weapons . johnny pulls you close to him when they get startled from the loud noise of an explosion , laughing a little at how they excuse their sudden vulnerability with ‘not expecting it to be that loud’.

price who seeks them out when he’s having issues with his cm901, having to endure your age-long lectures about not accidentally slamming the barrel to hard. he subconsciously makes sure the brush his hand over yours when he finally retrieves his now-fixed weapon.

yeah nyways weapon mech! reader has my heart

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2kiran · 8 months

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Just saw the simon post, and i NEED the second version in which simon has a big belly bulge😘😘

cw m!reader has a huge dick. belly bulge. pt1.

“you okay, baby?” simon was heavily panting in your ear, his hands bunching up your shirt. it was obvious, he wasn’t quite ‘okay’. his pupils were blown wide in lust and his mask couldn’t hide the desperate expression on his face. simon’s hole fluttered around you in response, tears threatening to spill whilst his voice was husky, “don’t– don’t move.” he whimpered, experimentally grinding down on you as your cock hit all of the right spots within his being.

simon moaned softly, unable to contain his sounds as pleasure mixed with pain. he was so fucking lightheaded. he just took all of you in mere minutes ago and he felt so brainless already. “go on, take me already,” he huffed, still bratty even though you were balls deep inside of him. grabbing his hips, you carefully lifted him up before bringing him back down. “nngh, fuck!” he gasped, the thoughts that formed in his fucked out brain quickly dissipating. you repeated the action again, until he was unashamedly riding your cock.

“do...ah! do you like this? h-huh?” he asked, shakily, “like fuckin’ your superior officer? i should- i should tell the te- team, let ‘em know how- how badly you want me.” he stammered, eyes nearly rolling back, “gonna have you – hmfg...reported.” you knew he wouldn’t. he couldn’t. not when you were fucking him so heavenly, not when he could feel you in his throat. god, you wish you could snap a photo right now. eyes wandering over his muscular body and that’s when you saw it.

a fucking bulge in his belly.

interrupting his bounces, you place your hand over it. “you couldn’t do that even if you needed to,” you replied, self-assured. the corner of his mouth twitched, like he was going to retort, before his gaze followed yours. a soft groan leaving his lips as the flush on his face deepened, switching positions so that you had him on his back. “bloody hell...” he muttered, embarrassed more than ever. you pulled back until nearly nothing was in him, making him whine at the loss before you harshly snapped your hips to his. every movement forward had you bulging out of his belly, hovering your hand over it like you were in a trance. let’s see what he’ll look like with all of your cum inside of his greedy hole.

masterlist

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thegnomelord · 4 months

Note

this isn’t a request but you’re the only writer i know who writes the monster!au so

dragon!reader and dragon!price are haunting my thoughts. dragons usually have to hold themselves back when sparring because they’re so much stronger than other monsters but with price & reader they don’t need to, to the point where the other members of the 141 are kinda wondering if they need to intervene.

what they do or don’t know is this is you and price courting, testing each other’s strength to assess whether you’re suitable mates. once you have decided you’re suitable it continues in the bedroom, fighting for dominance and testing each other’s stamina as price rides you or you pin price down and see if he can take all the strength behind your thrusts.

OH god I LOVE the way you think! I know @rodolfoparras also did a dragon price some time ago but I'm happy to let my monsterfucker out lol :D I'll consider this a spitball thingy but GOD DAMN did my hyperfixation hyperfixate on this :Ddd kinda rushed at the end but it's 3AM :/

CW:NSFW

What about if dragons measure not just raw strength, but all other aspects as well? They're prideful by nature and with so little of them remaining no self-respecting dragon will settle for a witless brute or a powerless scribe.

Price had lost hope in finding a mate centuries ago because he's even pickier than most of his kin; in his view, a proper one needs to be strong enough to completely pin him down, needs to be smart enough to see the insults in his honeyed words and give back as good as he does, needs to be clever enough to lead men as good as he does.

A proper mate needs to keep up with him on all levels.

And for a dragon of his age, that's an unachievable set of criteria. Oh sure, many of the dragons he's met over the years have tried to match him, but all fell short, leaving him lonely and unsatisfied.

Then he met you, a fellow Captain, a fellow dragon. Though only a few centuries younger than him, you're a wyrmling in his eyes, your scales like shining metal compared to his muddled gemstones. An arrogant wyrmling if the way you peacock for him the first time you enter the training room has anything to say about it— your wings spreading out and muscles rippling, back straightening out to make you taller, scales glinting in the artificial light; little details that anyone else can brush off as a simple stretch but to a dragon it screams of your interest in him.

His slitted eyes roam across your body, both equal parts disdain and curiosity. "Got somethin' ta say there boy?" His words are rough like sandpaper.

"No, no." You hum as you get into the ring, every little movement purposely done to showcase your hard earned musculature. "Just that you should skip out on this fight. Wouldn't want you to throw your back out old man."

"Old man huh?" His eyes blaze with the same fire at the end of his cigar, your words igniting something in his chest that had long been extinguished. "I'll show you old."

And suddenly he's in the ring, both of you trading blow for blow with the same savagery your progenitors had frightened mankind with for millennia, your claws leaving deep grooves in the concrete when you miss his side, his tail smashing a portion of the ground into dust when you avoid it, the ground between you cracking when you try to push the other away, loose scales and dust and debris littering the ground as you and Price wrestle on the ground.

Both of your teams watch from the sidelines, your team calming the other members of TF141 that this is just how dragons are, pointedly ignoring your victorious snarl when you pin Price down to the ground, your clawed hand harshly pushing his face into the concrete to the point you might break his nose as you bite the back of his neck, forcing him to submit. "I win,"

"Not fer long." He snarls back just as deep, feeling alive for the first time in who knows how long. "Best two out of three." And with that he jerks, remaining wing slamming into your side and knocking you off balance long enough for him to fling you into the wall opposite of him.

You don't know how many rounds you go before you're forced to stop by a very pissed off Laswell, who also pointedly ignores the obvious bulges in what remains of both of your pants, giving both of you a stern talking to about wrecking the damn training room.

You're ready to leave after being chastised like a child but Price is quicker, passing you with a "Good fight back there." rumbling in his throat, the soft scales of his wing brushing along your jaw. Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you meet his gaze, and Price has a good poker face but the smoldering look in his eyes and the low grumble in his chest makes it's obvious you've peaked his curiosity.

But that's just the start, the hard part is keeping it. While regular dragons may spend time with a potential mate conversing on scholarly subjects or having philosophical debates, you and him have a more practical way of assessing the other's intellect — Battle plans.

To your teams it sounds like a harsh argument, ideas thrown around and sharp insults tacked on top, their heads ping ponging between you and Price as you look over maps, trying to one up the other. Eventually your teammates leave you to settle this on your own.

"And I'm telling you, old man," You growl, both of you so close there's barely any space between you as you point at the map. "We can push a smaller team through the forest while we lead the frontal assault, our wip's not going to have anywhere to go then." You huff, holding your head up high to make it obvious you're proud of your idea.

Price gives you the stink eye, before he scans the map again, humming to himself. After a few seconds he lets out a scoff. "We don't have enough men for that." He says, but the sharp edge in his tone is dulled. "But—" His tail moves to brush against your own, your rough scales brushing against his smoother ones. "—It has some merit."

Price doesn't draw attention to the way your tails intertwine, wrapping together like two snakes, and neither do you. But the short purr that bubbles out of your chest says everything he needs to know, growing louder when he answers with his own, your shoulders brushing together. "Aight, back to work." He cuts your purrs short, but you can't hide the pleased look on your face as your tails remain coiled together.

Then comes the actual courting dance.

One late evening spent looking over documents in the privacy of his office, your tails once again coiled beneath the desk after successfully having proved your wit to him again, absentmindedly telling embarrassing stories of your respective teams. . . Price has a revelation. You might be it. "Hey lad."

You look up, your full attention on him. "Yeah?"

With a mumbled grunt too quiet for you to hear Price slides a hand beneath his shirt and pulls a large green scale from the meat of his shoulder blade, the wound healing before it can even bleed.

Instinctively you know what this means, for knowing how a prospective mate treats an extension of you will show how they'll treat you. But you still speak up, needing proof for your own mind that you're not insane and haven't been burning the wrong tree. "What?"

Price glares at you, "Don't play dumb," He says as he slides the large scale across the table to you. "It doesn't suit you." There's an underlayer of heat in his words, blue slitted eyes looking you over in a much more appreciative light.

You can't control the big grin that spreads across your face, "Oh, then what does suit me?" You ask as you follow his lead, yanking out one of your larger scales from your own back and sliding it to him. It makes the difference between you two obvious, his green scale muddled with age compared to your shiny one.

"Arrogant muppet." The gentle way he picks up your scale clashes with his harsh words, cradling it in his hand like it'll crack at the slightest of touches, his face reflected in the surface.

You grin, "Just confident." You feel his sharp eyes judge every minute twitch of your fingers as you pick up his scale. Price's poker face hides the way his heart melts at the loving way you brush a thumb across the surface, how it throbs when you don't immediately attempt to make it shine like some whelps once did, accepting him for how he is by putting it in your breast pocket.

God, he doesn't even know how much he'd fantasized about something like this when he was still young, vestiges of a purr escaping his throat at the tender way you treat his scale. "Right." He shakes his head and places your scale in his own breast pocket, handing you another stack of papers. "Get back to work."

You grin and do as he says, wings twitching as a sign of joy, your tail squeezing down on his and receiving a squeeze in kind.

Price feels like a horny teen when he lays awake in bed late at night with your scale held between his claws. He feels stupid for feeling so giddy at the thought of having a mate, a proper mate, yet his body thinks differently. Just holding it in his hand is enough to make him grow hot, your scent still clings to the scale and Price finds himself holding it close to his nose to familiarize himself with it and Hell his body loves it, cocks growing hard in record time and his thighs wet with slick. The poor thing doesn't even know what to relieve first, his free hand constantly going between stroking his cocks and fingering himself, mind craving the heat of another dragon that he'd been deprived of.

What Price doesn't know is that you're in the same boat, biting your arm to silence yourself as you imagine it's Price you're breeding instead of a pillow, splintering the headboard from how hard you're gripping it in an attempt to not damage the scale.

Then shit hits the fan when during a routine mission you two are ambushed, and while two dragons are no easy prey for mankind, humans have long since gone from using rocks and sticks. You catch sight of a sniper's scope glint seconds before the bullet targets Price, and in only a few seconds to think you throw yourself in the way, Price's scale in your breast pocket puts enough resistance to make you survive the bullet, but you feel it crack, and that. . . that sets you off.

Price doesn't even have the time to lift his gun before you're tearing through the battlefield like a man possessed, anger burning like a volcano in your chest for trying to hurt him, elemental breath and draconic strength unleashed to it's fullest potential.

And Price? Price watches the show with that same heat burning in his belly, forced to bite his lip to silence the pleased purrs as he rubs his thighs together while you tear flesh from bone, mate flashing in his mind. Look how he protects you His mind purrs, Good mate. Perfect mate.

"I'm sorry." You whimper when you've finally calmed down, the battlefield nothing but a ruined crater and the shards of his scale held tenderly in your cupped hands. "I failed, I-"

"Come here." Price cuts you off quickly and pulls you down into a harsh and desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue and need. He parts just a fraction of an inch, "You passed." He growls and only then do you notice the sharp arousal in his scent, your animalistic hindbrain jumping for joy as you kiss back because holy shit he considers you worthy.

And now that he's found his mate? You best believe his body is going to make up for all the centuries he'd spent alone.

It doesn't even take a week for him to enter heat, waking in a daze with his twin cocks hard and his thighs glistening with slick, your scent lingering in the sheets and your side of the bed still warm. The walls almost shake from how deeply he growls when he registers that you're not next to him, just enough sense in his head to throw on a towel around his waist before angerly stomping through the halls to find you, sniffing you out like a bloodhoud.

"Bloody muppet." Price growls as he yanks you by the horns back to his room, the scent of his arousal so potent you're struck dumb, letting yourself be pushed down. Price's claws slice through your clothes, his hole so slick and eager for you he doesn't even need to stretch, just jumps onto your lap and in one fluid motion takes one of your cocks to the root. "Fuckin' finally." Price hisses, instantly setting a harsh pace of bouncing on your cock that would have had a lesser race end up with a crushed pelvis.

You grip his hips for dear life, surging up to mark his neck and shoulders with bites as he does the same, his ass clapping against your thighs. "Mate." Price moans, hole clenching around you, his cocks leaking against your stomach. "My mate." He grips your hair and pulls you into a bruising kiss, "Going to last long for me yeah?" He asks, a bit of mockery on his flushed face as he feels you cum inside him, riding you through your orgasm as the sudden onslaught of sensations frazzles the intelligent parts of your brain. "Not going to disappoint me now are you?"

Good thing dragons have really short refractory periods.

"Not a chance." You snarl and flip him over suddenly, rumbling purrs escaping your chest from the surprised sound he makes. You attempt to pin him down and he squirms out of your hold, another bout of wrestling breaking out between you that has you two tumbling off the bed and onto the ground.

"That so whelp?" Price breathes out when you manage to pin him down, your strong hand keeping his face flush with the floor. "Do you really think you can keep up?" A pleased thrill runs down his spine from the sensation of your weight bearing down on him, his knees automatically locking up to hike his ass up, tail flipping up to display his slick hole for you.

"Do you?" You counter, one hand on his head, the other pressing both of your dicks together, your two tips pressing against his ass. "You're so wet and desperate, should have just pinned you down the moment I saw you instead of courting you." With one sharp thrust you push in, a pained and elated moan tearing out of his throat at the sensation of your twin cocks spreading him wider than any toy ever could, scratching that itch he'd had for who knows how long.

The stretch and burn and pleasure muddles his mind, reduces him to low animalistic snarls and growls as he does his best to push his hips into yours. "Hurry the fuck up." Price orders, whole body shaking from the way you set a harsh pace, bashing on his prostate, your balls slapping against his own, each hard thrust pushing and pulling his face across the floor. "I'll- fuck- fall asleep."

"You sure about that?" You push your weight further on him, forcing his wing to spread out, your own partially wrapping around him, "Seems to me like-" A bit of elemental breath leaves your throat when one particularly strong thrust has his hole clamping down on you, his back arching to push his hips as close to yours as one of his cocks spews cum on the floor, "-like you're not in a place to order me around."

"You- ah-fuck-ah- wanker." His insult would be a lot more hurtful if he didn't whine like a bitch in heat, both of you devolving into primitive snarls and growls with the only thought on both of your minds being the need to fill Price with as much of your cum as you physically can.

#Spittballs with Gnome #Idk how this happened #my hyperfixation got wayyy out of hand #n my monsterfucking got out of hand #cod mw2 #gnome correspondence #x reader #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #top male reader #captain john price #john price x male reader #john price x reader #top dom reader #cod modern warfare #cod smut #cod x male reader

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waves-against-a-cliff · 2 months

Text

The thing you did that made the 141 men think 'Im gonna marry them'

Content Warnings - Fluff. Sexual themes but no smut.

Gaz - It's cliche really. But he loves it when his partner can eat. Maybe not all the time, not all types of food. Maybe it's literally one specific thing you can eat pounds of. Whatever it is, he had taken you to a buffet and watched with hearts in his eyes as you devoured it. Not in a feederist kind of way but in a... Breeding sort of way. Doesn't matter if you lack the actual parts, can't get pregnant due to birth control or other outside forces. He thinks to himself, "I'm gonna marry them." Doesn't even realize hes thought it until he hears it in his head.

Price - He saw you rush across a busy street (he nearly had a heart attack) and stop traffic because you saw a pair of turtles trying to cross the street. Carefully you picked them up and placed them to where they were heading to. You even waved and said goodbye to them. Your kindness made him smile and chuckle. He realized then he wanted to marry you.

Soap - You were playing with his nieces and nephews at a family party. Chasing them around and playing their games. Laughing and sneaking some more dessert. He loves seeing you with kids, his eyes are on you all night and he thinks, "I'm gonna marry them."

Ghost - He took you axe throwing. He didn't expect you to be this good at it. The way it seemed so natural to you and how the axe embedded itself into the wall. You smiled up at him, a feral gleam in your eyes. He hands you another axe just to watch the way your arm muscles tense and to see the same look on your face when it hits its target. Spare strands of your hair stick to your slightly sweaty face and you comment about how much you like this. As he watches you wrench the axe from its spot, he can only think of how badly he wants to marry you.

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katz-chow · 8 months

Note

any thoughts for pervy könig? i know he'd be so gross amd clingy, constantly stealing panties and huffing at them :( or watching you across from the showers, fisting his leaky cock and making eye contact with you :(

i bet he'd be stalk you 'nd everything !!! being so creepy and openly desperate :(

ignore this if you're uncomfortable !!

warnings: nsfw, gn! reader, pervy, toxic, power play, corruption kink, stalking, somnophillia, not proofread :D

all the things that lead up to that though, waiting and stalking you to see your reaction to everything hes doing.

him purposely putting a hand on your lower back to walk past you, his large hand traveling a bit too far down until you feel a squeeze on your ass

the next time he does it, you quickly arch into his grasp and look at him with those doe eyes of yours, all innocently. from then on, he knows how cheeky and desperate you are

always teasing you by making you go shower last, saying he needs some…help with paperwork. you always agree because he’s your superior!! why wouldn’t you??

ends up with the both of you in the empty showers late at night, you rubbing the soap down your body with the open curtains, allowing him to lean back on the benches by the lockers to feel his pants tighten, your freshly worn underwear in his hand.

by the time he finally pulls his stiff, leaky cock out, he can’t help but use your underwear to jerk him off :( it’s the closest thing he’ll allow himself to you, you’re just so young and precious!!

will keep your cum stained underwear to “wash for you”. you ended up never seeing them again…along with a few other pairs

pervy konig who sneaks into your room while you’re asleep using his rank to get the master key. he sits there kneeling on the floor next to your bed as he sniffs your hair and your musk, skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat from your sleep

he inhales your scent and just like that, he leaves his own potent one, cumming on your sheets…or if he’s feeling rather possessive, he’ll grind against your arm or hand until he cums all over you

pervy konig who grinds up against your ass when you’re both supposed to be focusing on a debrief, but he doesn’t care, it could’ve been an email. not his fault you’re standing next to him, your smell just turns on something feral in him

making you go into parade rest, your hands behind your back to grope and touch his growing bulge while no one dares peep a word about him grinding and grunting in the back of the room, he’s their superior too!! why would they risk getting in terrible trouble? especially harsh when someone that’s not him making you embarrassed

pervy konig who thigh fucks you, rarely ever allowing his dick to your oh so needy parts, slick dripping down your thighs and mixing with his own precum. when he thinks you’re doing particularly good, hell intentionally slide higher and rub against you, making you tremble and moan, edging you and denying. it leaves you all needy, allowing him to do all the pervy stuff just for the chance that he might authorize you to cum

“you’re too good for me, schätzelein…can’t stand ruining you yet…”

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ghoul-gone · 1 year

Text

Imma need to take a bite of this man

#drawing #digital art #my art #fav #ghost #ghost mw2 #mw2 #modern warfare #call of duty #cod #ghost x reader #ghost x male reader #ghost x soap #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod fanart #ghost fanart

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grimace-writes · 3 months

Text

New Kid New Mission

{NKIT No 3}

GN!Reader x Task Force 141

DNI IF YOU AREN'T A FAN OF VIOLENCE!!

{TW: THIS STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF INJURIES, FIGHTING, DEATH, G*NS! PURLEY FICTION!!}

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |

Summary: It’s been over a year since {Y/N} joined Task Force 141, they were given the post of being the team’s medic. They enjoyed having the opportunity not to be strictly forced to cause harm, though they trained as equally as hard as the others. Unfortunately for Task Force 14, slip ups still happen. Due to some unforeseen circumstances on a intel gathering operation, the team find themselves in this situation. Will they make it out?

Word count: 2199

(3rd Person POV | They/Them so anyone can read :) | Early to Mid Twenties)

[Enjoy! (๑ º ᗜ < ๑) ⋆｡˚✩]

-——————⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˖⁺‧₊˚｡⋆ ˖⁺‧₊˚°˖✧˚ʚ🦋ɞ˚✧˖° ˚₊‧⁺˖ ⋆˚₊‧⁺˖ ⋆ ˚｡⋆——————-

They were shoved through countless halls, the burlap sack on their face made their skin crawl but it didn’t mean anything to what could come next. {Y/N} groaned, clenching their jaw as they were roughly shoved to the ground, the tight grip of the handcuffs holding their hands behind their back made it impossible to brace the impact. Scuffling footsteps and familiar voices filled the room, their team were being held in the same room, though one voice was missing. ‘Where is Soap.’

{Y/N} was hoisted roughly up by their arms into a kneeling position then the sack was ripped from over their head. They winced as an aggressively harsh light hit their eyes, once they could adjust, the scene before them made their blood boil with unadulterated rage.

Kneeling in front of them was Gaz, Price, and Ghost, bloodied and bruised with their hands tight behind their backs and a gag over their mouths. The field medic took shaky breaths as they counted the many possible injuries they had under their uniforms, but knew Ghost had it the worst. His maskless face had plenty of visible wounds, which fueled their rage even more, ‘I’ll find his mask after I get information on our Johnny boy.’

{Y/N}’s gaze snapped their capture, the tone of their voice sent chills down the spines of everyone in the room. “I’m gonna ask this once nicely, Where the fuck is Soap?”

{Y/N} got quite the reputation for being the tenderhearted person amongst Task Force 141, they never raised their voice or cursed more than a simple ‘shit’ now and again. This was a new sight, not even their team had seen, it almost made them feel bad for their capturers. Their uncomfortably calm demeanor made the likes of Ghost fearful as the two guards stepped away from the medic.

“You don’t call the shots we do.” One of them spoke up, he was the bigger of the two, his voice deep with a heavy foreign accent that {Y/N} couldn’t quite place. Though it didn’t really matter to them as {Y/N} rammed their head into the big man’s gut, causing him to double over in pain.

{Y/N} was hit in the cheek by the butt by the second guard’s gun making them fall onto their side. “You dumb c#?!..You shouldn’t have done that..” Guard 2 said, aiming his pistol towards {Y/N}’s head, their team screaming against their gags pleading to spare them.

“No you shouldn’t have..” {Y/N} basically growled as they kicked Guard 2 in the groin making him drop his knees and loosen his grip on the pistol, now clattering to the floor. They took this as an opportunity to kick the gun towards their Captain, swinging their legs around to get themselves standing. Guard 1 stood up recovering from {Y/N}’s first blow, it clearly looked like an unfair match, two men versus a field medic with their hands tied behind their back.

{Y/N} bent their knees into their best guarded position before they quickly ran towards Guard 2 hopping over his crouched form. They kicked him in the back causing Guard 1 to trip over his partner, giving Y/N an opening to roundhouse him into the wall closest to them, rendering him unconscious.

Guard 2 rolled over on his back as he tried to regain composure to fight back, {Y/N}’s foot landed hard on his chest knocking the air from his lungs. “Don’t move..Now I’m gonna ask again, while I’m still being nice. Where. Is. My. Sergeant?”

Guard 2 gasped, “ I-I don’t know who you are talking about..Why would I tell you anything..”

“We came here with a loud Scot with a Mohawk, is that ringing any bells? I just kicked your ass with my hands behind my back..It’s wise to tell me the truth or I’ll show you what the fuck I can really do without my damn hands tied.” {Y/N}’s leaned down with a dark look on their face making the guard feel like pissing himself.

“He’s down the hall..” Guard 2 whimpered out before {Y/N} quickly collided their knee into his face to knock him out. They felt around the unconscious guard’s hands to get the keys to the handcuffs, luckily it was in his front pocket. {Y/N} quietly walked over to Price first to have him help unlock their cuffs, which they repaid the kindness with a small smile on their face. They untied the rag keeping him gagged, then gently removed it from his mouth. {Y/N} handed the keys to their Captain for him to unlock other’s cuffs as they walked over to Guard 1 searching his coat pockets. Stuffed inside his breast pocket was Ghost’s signature mask, {Y/N} took great care handling the mask as they went over to its owner.

Ghost stood by their teammates rubbing his wrists looking at {Y/N} as they approached. “Here..” Their voice barely above a whisper, handing it to him sheepishly not looking at his face out of respect, earning a hum of thanks. {Y/N} didn’t look at Ghost until he had the mask fully back on, they looked over his arms for any active bleeding wounds to only find scabs and bruises. “I’ll be good, luv. Check on the others.”

{Y/N} nodded looking at Gaz next, they gently took his face in their hands to observe his facial injuries. He winced at the physical contact whilst giving a pained chuckle,”Careful, beautiful. I’m fragile.” He earned a small snort from the medic who moved to look at the rest of him, finding a similar pattern of wounds to Ghost’s. They went to turn to their Captain, though he took their hand in his before they could check his wounds. Price tenderly held their arm up to wipe the debris from the small cuts caused by them falling on the uneven concrete. Unfortunately the only cloth to his disposal was the gag that once was in his mouth, but they weren’t in a position to bicker about proper sanitation.

“I’m fine, hen. I’ve had more than my fair share of battle wounds, we can worry more about it later.” Price said, giving {Y/N} a reassuring smile. “As of now we need to find Soap, get the intel we came for and eliminate any targets that get in the way before we rendezvous with evac. That is if they even have us at the right facility.” With how they were ambushed, Price couldn’t be sure they were at the original target location.

“Better to split into two groups, one gets a message to the chopper and the other gets Johnny.” Ghost voiced as he searched the guards for any more weapons or details of the team's whereabouts.

“Alright then, You and {C/N} will get Soap, Gaz and I will meet you back here once evac is called. Try to find any details about this place as you can, especially the maps and shipment documents. And most importantly, keep each other alive.” Price ordered placing the guard’s gun in the back of his waistband before he and Gaz exited the room, leaving the other two to come up with a plan to find Soap.

Ghost held a small pocket knife he picked from the guards out to {Y/N}, “Not much but it’ll work in a pinch.” They reluctantly took the blade since it seemed to be the only physical weapon between them. Though the remembrance of Ghost being a weapon himself, quickly faded their concerns as they walked over to the door with Ghost taking the lead.

The hallway was empty as they went the opposite direction of Price and Gaz, the faculty they were in starting to match the data they had gathered before the mission. The possibility of victory was increasing.

{Y/N} ran forwards, slid onto the ground to swipe the unsuspecting enemy ahead off his feet into Ghost’s waiting arms. The lieutenant covered his mouth as he snapped the guards neck then slumped the lifeless body against the wall. {Y/N} searched his pockets finding a handgun along with a cell phone, they used the corpse’s finger to unlock the device before handing Ghost the gun.

“Looks like this one was high on the food chain. He has their entire schematics on here along with shipment time..Score.” They scrolled through the phone more, only looking up when they heard the click of Ghost checking the magazine’s ammo count. “According to this, Soap is being held close by..”

{Y/N} slipped the phone into their back pocket leading the way towards their captive teammate position, they stopped at the edge of the hall to check for any guards outside the door. Coast is clear. They moved forward, gently pulling the handle down to test if it’s unlocked. “Damn, of course it’s not gonna be that easy,” {Y/N} cursed under their breath, taking a step back to look for a new way in. The map showed a vent that connected the hallway to the room, Soap was being held in, that’s their way in. “Ghost, I need to get into that vent, mind giving me a hand.”

He almost wanted to question their motives but this wasn’t the best time, Ghost just went over cupping his hands together and held them out as a boost for {Y/N} to climb on his shoulders. They jammed their knife in the seam of the vent grille removing it with haphazard care as they threw it to the side. {Y/N} was hoisted up by their lieutenant into the ventilation shaft. “When you hear the signal, you kick the door down and join me,” they said, ascending further before Ghost could question what they meant.

{Y/N} got to the other side, kicking the vent grille out comically hitting the guard that was about to torture Soap in the side of his head. The other two guards held their guns up at {Y/N} as they snaked out of the vent, they then stood tall with all the rage they’ve collected in their eyes towards the barrels of the guns. “If you are planning on shooting, you better not miss..”

“DUCKIE!” Soap cheered loudly, which Ghost assumed was the signal kicking the door near its handle to swiftly open it. He made quick work shooting the enemies in the room, whilst {Y/N} dodged any crossfire to get to Soap. They used the pocket knife to cut the ropes holding him to the chair he was seated in, standing up when the room was clear.

“Aren’t I glad to see the likes of you two, where is the Cap and Gaz?” Soap said stretching his arms and legs out staying seated for a moment to relax. {Y/N} moved to face Soap to get a better look at his visible injuries, a gash above his left brow made them worry the most. “They went to search the rest of the facility for the intel and get a message out for evac.” Ghost explained gathering any ammo from the fallen guards, only obtaining a magazine and half worth of ammo.

Soap gave a hum of acknowledgement to the details, though his thoughts were occupied by {Y/N}’s scrunched nose as they worried about his condition. “Duckie if you hold that face any longer it’s gonna stick that way..I’m fine, a few punches aren’t gonna take me down.” His signature smile dashing across his face, lifting his colleagues spirits as his confidence was contagious. “Yeah, whatever you say, Suddies.” {Y/N} replied, giving Soap a playful but gentle punch on the shoulder.

The three followed the map back to the regroup room, where Price and Gaz were looking over the intel as they waited patiently for the others to arrive. “Good to see you all made it back in one piece, it seems we all finished our tasks successfully.” Price said in a relieved tone to his team then he stored the documents on his person and motioned for them to follow his lead towards the exit. As much as he hoped for them to escape covertly, the misfortunes of this mission just kept coming as an absurdly loud alarm blared, signaling the base of their escape. Their only option was to make a break for the exit, make it to the forest and lose them in the trees until they reached the helicopter.

Ghost and Price took the lead as the others followed close behind, they quickly were able exit the building to a large gate leading in the direction of their destination. The enemy began their assault on the team who tried to dodge the shots in the open area. Price turned to return fire to cover the others, he made eye contact with {Y/N} with horror in his eyes.

The image of their figure illuminated by the searchlights stumbled forward holding their side, blood beginning to seep through the thick uniform. “No..It’s not supposed to be like this..”

“{C/N}!”

To be continued…

-——————⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˖⁺‧₊˚｡⋆ ˖⁺‧₊˚°˖✧˚ʚ🦋ɞ˚✧˖° ˚₊‧⁺˖ ⋆˚₊‧⁺˖ ⋆ ˚｡⋆——————-

Author's Note: I know, how dare I end this on a cliffhanger. Don't fret, Kittens~ For this all part of the plan. The next chapter will be separated into a Epilogue along with 4 parts to include long awaited Romance.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story. Let me know what you thought of it, Love Love~

(o´ ω `o)💕💕

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |

#task force 141 x reader #simon riley × reader #john mctavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #cod mw2 × reader #cod mw2 × male reader #mw2 × reader #mw2 × male reader #task force 141 #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod soap #cod ghost #cod price #cod gaz #gn reader #cod mw2 x gn reader #grimacewrites

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v1x3n · 1 month

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the-whispers-of-death · 3 months

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Closed off!Reader stumbling through the dark hallways of the base at night, you having woken up from a nightmare. You're desperate for some type of reprieve from your racing thoughts, some type of solace.

So you find yourself at the door of Ghost's barracks and with shaky hands, you knock on the door. He opens it and sees you, usually so composed and detached but now you're shaking like a leaf, your eyes wide with fear.

"Come here," he says gruffly and without hesitation, gently pulling you into the barracks. He leads you towards the bed, knowing that you're not going to be able to go to sleep without him beside you.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, trying so hard to try and pretend you're fine. "It was nothing."

Ghost shakes his head, cradling the back of your head. "No, nothing to be sorry for. We all get nightmares." He lays down on the bed first before gently pulling you down onto the bed with him. He gets you nice and comfy beside him, both of you now underneath the covers. "Close your eyes, I'm here. I won't let anything or anyone hurt you."

So you do. You close your eyes and listen to the sound of his heartbeat, letting it lull you into a deep sleep. And it's the best sleep you've had in months, side by side with Ghost.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated!

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #call of duty #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod #desi!reader #closed off!reader #ghost cod #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #ghost x gender neutral reader #:)

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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)

Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.

TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3

There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself.

Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac.

Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services.

There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself.

Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface.

There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation.

“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true)

But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier.

But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work.

But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…

There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…

Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful.

— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me?

Yes, he can hear you.

Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep.

— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail.

It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train.

He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think.

Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room.

König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway.

This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively.

Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in.

When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him?

Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse.

— Where do you want me to start, sir?

He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry.

— The living room. If it’s not too much.

He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker.

Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless.

— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch?

He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it.

You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes.

Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit.

— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left.

— Alright. Anything else?

He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway.

He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself.

This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you.

And he only knew you for an hour tops.

König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.

He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours?

He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits.

He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service.

His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember.

König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body.

Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died.

He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad.

Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be.

So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face.

It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself.

— What is it, liebling?

Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss.

You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him.

— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow.

He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already.

He might not even let you go after.

— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…

He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment.

— Alright. I will do it right away then.

You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless.

He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside.

— I will divide everything into categories, alright?

— Gut.

You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces.

You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is.

— Can I just put it back in boxes or…

You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely.

It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate.

He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours.

Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in.

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #konig x reader #yandere konig #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere #konig #konig x you #konig cod

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