#mw2 beta

[yunggoblin]

Little Slice of Heaven - Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley (18+)

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female!Reader

Summary: While Ghost has PTSD/Shell Shock going on, your teammates tell you to stay away. You have other plans on helping out your friends.

Warnings: 18+, PTSD/Shell Shock, Smut, Foul Language, Creampie, Spanking, Unsafe sex, Mention of guns, Knife usage, Soap walking in, Minors DNI

Word Count: 3,096

“What the hell was that back there?” You barked out, rushing down the hallway of the safe house towards Soap who was at the end. Your heavy boots clank with each stride, the rotten wood threatening to break underneath you. The mission you were on with your teammates went sideways and fast. Explosives went off once you entered the building, it was a trap and you all barely made it out alive.

Soap quickly approached you as you tried to push past him to see what was going on. It was him and a few other people in guard of one single door. “Y/N go to your room.” Soap commanded. 

“Where’s Ghost?” You furrowed your eyebrows to see Soap’s dark eyes staring down at you. Opening your mouth you were about to ask the Sergeant again only to hear a loud thud hit the wall making you flinch. A few more rough blows were thrown against the wall on the other side of you. “Soap, what the hell is that?” You cautiously asked as your eyes darted from the wall to your left and back to Soap.

“It’s Ghost.” He sighed. “The explosions, they triggered his PTSD and now he’s in somewhat of a shell shock. I want you to stay away from him, Y/N. We all are. He will get through it and come together once he realizes everything is fine.” Two more loud bangs slammed against the wall making you flinch slightly and Soap standing still. “Now go to your room, we have this under control.”

“But, Johnny-”

“That’s an order, Y/N!” Soap shouted, making you frown hard. Never has Soap yelled at you. You both were friends, the closest teammates along with Ghost. You three were the triangle that no one could separate. Shuffling your feet backwards, you then turned on the ball of your heel and made your way to your room, shutting the door right behind you.

You stared at the dark ceiling, shallow breathing was all around you, your teammates were sound asleep where you couldn’t get a wink in. You tossed and turned but only kept thinking about Ghost. The screaming and loud banging stopped a few hours ago, it was now two in the morning and the howl of the wind outside sounded ten times scarier as everything was finally settled down. It was quiet, too quiet. The wind made the tree limbs clank against the old windows, forming horrific shadows into the room. Sitting up, you rubbed your tired eyes. 

Soap called dibs on the only bed in the room which made you and everyone else sleep on the hard dusty floor. Moving side to side you popped your back making you let out a soft groan. Your eyes looked towards the wall, knowing Ghost was in the other room doing god knows what. Slowly getting onto your feet, you were in somewhat of comfortable clothing, a white tee with sweats that hung low on your hips but hugged your thighs. Tip toeing around the sleeping soldiers as you walked towards the door. 

Looking in the direction where Ghosts’ room was at, your feet started to slowly make their way there. For some reason it was hard to control the shakiness in your step, as if you were scared to find out what was behind that door. You froze as a large creak squeaked throughout the dark hallway. Not moving an inch until you didn’t hear anyone coming you started your movements again, it felt like forever as you slowly made your way towards the other end of the hall. You wanted to be cautious just in case anyone came out to see what you were doing. You needed to see him, your best friend, the man that looked after you and pulled you out of the fire multiple times.

Not only was he your best friend and boss but you fell in love with him the moment you saw him. People run the other direction after getting a glance at him or make fun of him thinking he has an ugly mug hiding his face. Not you. You always thought he was badass but in the most handsomest way. 

‘You have pretty eyes’ You murmured, mostly to yourself but Ghost perked up from your words.

‘Thanks.’ Ghost grunted as he patch you up.

‘You’re welcome.’ You hummed lazily, staring up at him, watching his talented hands go to work. You were shot in the shoulder during a mission and no time to rush back to the safe house and have a medic bandage you. With the loss of blood oozing from your uniform you began to become dizzy and light headed. ‘And plump lips.’ You added

‘Y/N.’ Ghost's voice was gruff but slightly caught off guard. ‘Hold still while I do this.’

‘Anything for you Lt.’ You seductively purred. 

You always liked to make Ghost fluster, it was a funny sight to see especially when you go too far and he’s sometimes speechless to where he has to walk away making you and Soap toss your heads back and laugh. 

You exhaled a breath as you finally came face to face to the old wooden door. Reaching for the door knob you slowly twisted it and pushed it open, cringing slightly as it creaked slowly on its hinges.

“Ghost?” You whispered as you stuck your head in, looking around the dark room, the only light given was from the full moon shining in from the window. Sliding past the slightly open door, you lightly shut it behind you. Your eyes lingered slowly around the room, the messy twin size bed was empty, as your eyes slid across the room more you noticed fist holes in the wall from where Ghost was punching earlier. 

“Ghost?” You whispered again, slowly pushing yourself to walk further into what seemed to be an empty room. A cold sweat ran through your body, thinking Ghost escaped. Stepping backwards to run and tell Soap, your back collided with a large figure whose arms threw themselves around you. A scream threatened to escape your lips but you stopped yourself as you felt a cool blade against your throat.

“Scream and I’ll fucking gut you.” Ghost’s voice sounded so unfamiliar, darker than before and even a little bit hard to understand with his accent being so thick.

“Simon.” You whispered. “It’s me, it’s me, Y/N.” You quickly announced yourself, you reached up and patted his wrist three times that were wrapped around you, one of the ways to notify each other in the dark during missions. “It’s me buddy.” There was silence for quite some time, the only sound being made was your heavy breathing, scared he wouldn’t understand and kill you thinking you were an intruder. Your back was firmly pushed against Ghost’s toned body, waiting for anything. You didn’t move, you’d let him be the first to.

“Y- Y/N?” Ghost questioned his voice being softer, pulling the knife away from your throat. 

You exhaled sharply in relief. “Hey, Lt.” Ghost’s arms released you, giving you freedom to move. Turning around you looked up at him, he looked less feral than what he sounded like but his eyes were bloodshot red and filled with tiredness. There was a small crack on the corner of his mask.

“What- What the fuck happened?” This was the first time you ever heard Ghost confused. He stared at the knife in his hand slightly examining it only to put it back into his carrier on his thigh. 

“Well, you kind of had an episode.” You weren’t sure how to break it to him not knowing how he’d react. 

“What, how?” He asked, his eyes skimming the room as he took in what was all around him. The walls nearly had dozens of fist holes punctured in them, there was even some glass on the floor from a mirror he smashed. His dark eyes landed back to you as you still haven’t given him an answer, too scared he’d get triggered again. “Y/N, how did this happen?” 

“We were on a mission, Lt. There were explosions in the building we were in and well, you kind of just turned.” You frowned to see Ghost shut his eyes in defeat, the tactical black paint over his eyes smeared but still heavily covering them and breathed out a sigh which sounded like he said ‘fuck’.

“You need to leave, Y/N.” Ghost spoke as he walked past you towards the bed. 

“What? No.” You whipped around, watching as he laid on the small bed. “I won’t leave you like this, Simon. Not now, now ever.”

“Y/N, I fucking held a knife against your throat. You can’t be around me. I won’t have it, I won’t have you risk your life to try and save me.” Ghost’s voice became a bit louder and colder.

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re fine.” You crossed your arms at his stubbornness.

“I am fine, god damn it.” Ghost snapped, sitting up he stood from the bed and stalked towards you. Swallowing became hard as your throat tightened while your friend towered over you, not knowing if there was another episode coming or not. “I’m not going to have you sit here while I’m like this, Y/N. Please, you’re my little slice of Heaven out there, you’re the only one to keep me calm and myself in the battlefield, I can’t lose you not when I’m like this. I will never forgive myself.” Ghost’s shoulders slumped as he was now staring at his black boots. 

You slowly reached your right hand upwards, cupping Ghost’s jaw making the man flinch and open his wide eyes. You slightly pulled your hand away, his actions startling yourself. His blue stormy eyes now staring down at you, watching your moves as you reached back up at him again, cupping his jaw underneath his balaclava. You’re now noticing that his skull mask is chipped around his eye and he has a cut slightly below his eye. “Then let me be your little slice of Heaven in here, right now.” You whispered.

Raising your other hand, both of them grabbed at the bottom of his balaclava, slowly pulling it up his neck. You looked up at him, his dark eyes widened at your action. “Trust me.” Your voice was soft, pushing the black fabric further up you pushed it past his lip, stopping there. Your fingers grazed against his stubble jaw as you reached upon your tippy toes and pressed your lips against his. Your soft lips danced against his stilled ones. After a few seconds went by, you got the hint. Slowly pulling away and going flat on your feet you stared at him as his eyes started to slowly flutter open.

His movements were quick as he wrapped his large arms around you, pulling you close to his large frame he pressed his lips back onto yours in a harsher manner. The movements of his lips were a fast and hungry pace you could barely keep up. You moaned softly against them as his tongue slipped inside of your mouth, exploring it. “Simon.” You breathed out softly, his hands traveling south of your body, cupping your ass and pulling you closer to him, your face heated up as his raging boner poked at your lower abdomen. “Don’t you see what you do to me?” His husky voice rang through your ears.

You groaned softly, bucking your hips against him. “You do the same to me, Ghost.” You confessed. With no effort at all, Ghost picked you up. Mindlessly, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he made his way back to his bed, sitting down at the edge of it, your lips still danced along with his. 

“I need you, Ghost.” You mumbled against his lips, rolling your hips against his tactical pants. 

“I know, princess.” The nickname gives you shivers. “But I need you to be in control, I’m scared that if I take over I might hurt you.” He breathed out softly as your lips made your way down his throat, biting and suckling his skin, leaving dark marks. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see them.

“Yes sir.” Pulling away from his marked neck, he pulls down his balaclava as you start to unbutton his pants. Slightly pulling them down just enough to where his cock was free, springing upwards hitting his lower stomach.

“Fucking hell.” He moaned out as the cool air hit the red tip of his cock, already oozing with pre-come, begging to be touched.

“Poor Lt.” You sigh at his horniness. “Been forever since you’ve gotten off, huh?” You teased him as you started to work your sweats off. 

“You’re fucking right it has and I think of you everytime I do.” He moaned as you wrapped your small hand around his hard length. 

“Is that so?” You hummed, stroking him, collecting his pre-come only to drag it down lathering up his cock to help yourself in a moment.

“I think of you all the time.” Ghost grunted, his British accent hitting your ears made you shiver. His eyes looked down at his cock, watching you stroke him only for his dark eyes to snap back up at you. The look he gives you is wild and full of lust. You could tell he was having a hard time controlling himself and not trying to pounce on you as his hands dug into the lumpy mattress. 

As your hand went to stroke his cock faster you leaned forward towards his covered ear. “I think of you too.” You whispered, making Ghost buck his hips into your touch.

“Fuck, I need you now love.” Ghost’s cock pulse in your hand.

Getting more comfortable on his lap you raise yourself up, Ghost placed his hands on your waist, helping you. 

“Holy fuck.” Ghost moaned as you settled upon the tip of his cock slowly pushing past your folds. His fingers digging into the flesh of your waist as you kept pushing yourself to go down, wanting to be full of him. “Slow down love.” Ghost begged in short breaths.

“Sorry, you feel so fucking good.” You didn’t listen to him as you kept sinking down, fully settling on his cock you wiggled your hips against him, feeling snug of his thick dick deep in you.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Ghost’s voice was thick like honey as he slapped your ass and gripped the flesh. 

“Tell me when to move.” You let out a soft whine, knowing it’s been awhile for him being inside anything other than his hand getting him off. 

Ghost was distracting himself as he drew circles and other shapes on your ass cheek, you could hear him control his breathing as he let out one long breath he nodded. “R- Ride me.” 

Those words were like music in your ears as you slowly dragged yourself up. Ghost let out a long moan when you slammed yourself back down. The room now filled with both of your whimpers and moans along with his large cock slamming inside of your wet cunt.

“Fucking shit, you’re so tight around me.” Ghost gripped your waist, helping you bounce on his cock.

“Only for you Lt.” You sobbed, your breasts bouncing from the harsh movements. You slowly pushed yourself up, his cock pulling out of you only for you to slam back down.

“Ohhh shit, just like that.” Ghost’s voice echoed in the room as he leaned back on the bed where his feet were still planted on the floor. “Fuck, ride me just like that baby.” 

Following his command, you placed your hands upon his broad chest, dragging your hips upwards only to roughly slam back down, this time Ghost met up with your thrust, his cock nudging deeply against your cervix making you collapse against him.

“Fuck, Simon!” You cried loudly from the force. 

“Don’t stop now kitten, keep going, make me come.” He panted, his grip on your waist still rough as he kept pumping his hips up into you. Spreading your legs wider, the angle of his cock hit a different position. “Fuck.” The snarl leaving Ghost’s lips was animalistic. “Like that, fuck yeah keep going baby.” His hands left your waist, moving to your ass as he helped you bounce faster on his cock.

“‘Mm gonna come.” You sobbed in the crook of his neck, the way he roughly thrusted inside of you drove your body upwards against his. Your sensitive nipples dragged along his muscular chest made your cunt pulsing around him. 

“Me too baby, gonna come so deep inside of you.” His voice was deeper than before as the wet sounds filled the room along with his moans. The bed springs squeaking while the bed frame creaked against the old wooden floor.

“W- Wait, Ghost-” You quickly placed a hand on his chest, he wasn’t wearing a condom.

“Fuck baby, here it comes.” 

“Ghost-” You tried to stop his movements but they were too fast and too rough along with a tough grip on your ass, he was hitting all the right spots at the same time making your vision blur. A loud moan escaped Ghost’s throat as ropes of his hot come exploded inside of your tight walls. The feeling of his warm thick seed and him slowly pumping his cock sent you into overdrive. Your nails dug into his chest as your body shook, your climax washing over you.

“Simon!” You screamed, your cunt squeezing another load from Ghost making him grunt out in pleasure. The large thick load of come dripped out of your fucked hole and down Ghost’s veiny cock to his emptied balls. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Ghost was panting heavily underneath the black fabric and his skull mask trying to catch his breath. “You think we woke them?” He asked and just like that the door burst open with Soap pointing a pistol towards the two of you.

“What the fuck man!” Soap quickly shielded his eyes from the sight of his one friend balls deep inside the other naked friend.

“Do you mind?” Ghost chuckled, trying to cover you with his large arms from Soap’s view. 

“I thought you were fucking hurting her, Lt..” Soap put his gun away but still not looking.

“Quite the opposite.” Ghost called back, making you giggle.

Soap quickly left the room, shutting the door behind him and telling the men it was a ‘false alarm’.  

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley’s Masterlist

#Ghost #simon ghost riley #simon ghost #simon riley #simon riley smut #mw2 beta #cod #simon ghost riley x you #mw2 smut #simon ghost riley smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley oneshot

[feedingfrenzy91]

Call of Duty Player Visits Activision Office

God willing Activision will change its ways soon but if not then I hope that if and when the Microsoft Takeover happens they will take over the Customer support themselves.

Gameplay: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 Beta

May God bless you all.

Thumbnail: https://charlieintel.com/modern-warfa...

#youtube #Modern Warfare 2 Beta #Modern Warfare 2 #Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2 beta #Call of Duty #MW2 Beta #MW2 #Gameplay #Gaming #Gamers #Game #Video Games #Feedingfrenzy91 #charlieintel.com #charlieintel

[hyenafangz]

Modern Warfare 2 ROASTING is back

#youtube #mw2 #mw2 2022 #mw2 beta #funny jokes #funny post #funny moments #collaboration #call of duty

[poeticsinn14]

Modern warfare 2 beta just ended and we see so many mixed reviews. Many players; pros and regular gamers are complaining about some of the in game mechanics being taken out. Such as slide canceling and shooting while sliding. Slide canceling is a skill that good players developed to take it out of the game is a big hit to the community. It changes the play style of the game and the movement. Movement in Call of Duty defines if a player is good or not. To make drastic changes to that can cause an uproar within the Call of Duty community. Shooting while sliding is also a big mechanic that is being taken away. That reduces the speed of play immensely. Also most players are already use to shooting while sliding so now they will have to adjust accordingly. It is interesting that they would slow it down by taking those mechanics out when the TTK is so much faster in Modern Warfare 2. It almost contradicts itself with that adjustment. They added back a diving mechanic that we haven't seen in the past few Call of Duties but most players do not like this mechanic. The 2019 Modern Warfare definitely has a much better feel than the current Modern Warfare 2 beta. We didn't see much more about Warzone 2 which was disappointing but we did see more proximity chat being used in the game which is great! Still a bit on the fence about how it will affect the competitive community and hoping this will be addressed. There is speculation that a lot will be changed before the game actually comes out. The new perks setup is interesting. It seems to be a mix of regular perks and specialist. Is this game Infinity Ward's first miss or is it to early to judge? I think it is still to early to judge.

#cod #Call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mobile #mw2 #mw2 2022 #call of duty mw2 #mw2 beta #gaming #gamer #twitch

[bigassmoonchild]

Simons Rut

Simon bullied his cock back into you, knot starting to inflate. He groaned, having stuffed you full of three other loads, grunts and groans becoming all you could hear.

His head fell on your shoulder, chest pressing into your back and whines coming from your mouth with the overstimulation. He nipped at your neck, sucking your scent into his throat to coat his tongue. A moan ripped from his neck, eyes rolling back into his head.

You could feel his cock sliding against your g-spot, sending spasms of pleasure through your gut. Biting your gland and remarking you, his knot started catching on you as he slid in and out.

Whines were coming from his throat, his mind lost in the thoughts of breed, mate, fuck a pup into Omega, and you couldn't move from under him, mouth open and drool slipping down your chin.

Your cunt spasmed around him, his knot finally catching you and he pumped his hips shortly. Hips pressing back into him and grinding on him, your own eyes rolling back with the pleasure as you kept spasming around Simons cock.

"Good little Omega, milking me, going to fuck pups into you, need you to be full of me," he growled into your ear, his mouth dropping open as his orgasm finally spread through him, dropping to his elbows and further caging you onto the bed.

Simon stayed like that for a moment, his nose rubbing along your neck as he filled his head with your scent, almost growing drunk on it. When he finally came to, he pushed his weight off of you and slowly moved the two of you over, letting you sit on his lap.

He ran his hands down your sides, your head falling on his shoulder and nudging at his own scent gland, licking at it to fill his scent in your own mouth.

Massaging at your thighs, you felt yourself relaxing around him, eyes falling shut from the exhaustion of cumming so many times around him.

Some time later, Simon was pulling you off of him and allowing you to come back to the present while carrying you into the bathroom, starting the tub after setting you on the counter.

You'd tugged Simon in the tub with you as he'd tried to set you in there and leave. Him joining you caused some water to splash around the sides, but you got to work washing his hair as he held you in his lap.

During his ruts, he was rougher than normal but became the sweetest Alpha, happy when his Omega was more than satisfied before his next wave came through him and had him bending you over the sink to watch yourself get fucked.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #smut #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #no use of y/n #simon riley #call of duty #task force 141 #drabble #rut #cod mw2 #call of duty x reader #ghost mw2 #modern warfare ii #To hold y'all over until the next parts of Maple Syrup you can have this little drabble of Simon in rut #I can expand further if y'all want

[silver-tongued-deovel]

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

Just getting back into writing, so warning: potentially ooc Ghost.

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

- cbf! Simon, who reaches out to an old acquaintance to send his first paycheck to you. He has the barracks and mess hall and knows you have no such comforts.

- cbf! Simon, who finds you left town as soon as you turned 18 from said acquaintance.

-cbf! Simon, who can't seem to track you down no matter how hard he tries. It's just like you disappeared. He can't even find any semblance of an internet presence.

-cbf! Simon, who lets it haunt him. The memories of your friendship and the absence of knowledge regarding your current life pop into his head at the worst times.

- cbf! Simon, who believes he's cursed. That he'll lose everyone he loves.

-cbf! Simon, who eventually accepts that he'll never have a bond like the two of you shared. Sure, he has his teammates. But they don't care for each other the same way you two did.

-cbf! Simon, who eventually learns to live with your absence. He even befriends his other teammates and (eventually) the tf141.

-cbf! Simon, who sees a girl eerily similar to what he imagined you'd look like, all grown up while out celebrating a successful mission with the task force.

-cbf! Simon, with a concerned Johnny, asking if he's okay as he stares at the girl with glazed over eyes.

-cbf! Simon, who hears your laugh, coming from the girls mouth. He immediately stands up to push Johnny away and head towards the bar.

-cbf! Simon, who approaches you with Johnny hot on his heels.

-cbf! Simon, who sees the confused look in your eyes as he approaches you and feels an ache in his chest.

-cbf! Simon, who has to make sure it's you. He calls out your name, and there's recognition on your face. Towards the name, not him.

-cbf! Simon, who's crushed when you ask, "Do I know you?" As if seeing the hurt in his eyes, you add, "Sorry. Can't really recognize you with the mask on mate."

-cbf! Simon, who doesn't think twice before ripping his balaclava. He thinks he hears a gasp come from Johnny. But all that matters is the look in your eyes.

-cbf! Simon, who almost collapses as he hears you mumble, "Simon?"

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

If this does well, I'd like to make it into a short fic:)

Thoughts would be appreciated.

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

#drabble #cod drabble #cod x reader #cod x you #cod mw2 #cod #ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #reader #reader insert #x reader #cbf!ghost #cbf!simon #cbf!ghost x reader #cbf!simon ghost riley x reader #no beta we die like men

[diejager]

omegaverse anon here, could you do the cod group with a beta reader? Like, they stay really out of the way, not really used to getting any attention from alphas or omegas

Unusual Attraction Cw: omegaverse, awkward!reader, ell me if I missed any.

You were an oddity of a beta, your stronger nose made interacting with people harder than other betas, it made you stand out from your peers, they deemed you a beta stronger than the usual beta and that made you feel isolated and alone. You were used to alphas ordering you around and moving you from team to team for your nose and clear mind, you were a asset to have on certain teams where they needed a buffer that wasn’t an heat-prone omega. And despite your constant entourage of omegas and alphas, you never stopped flinching or wincing when someone’s scent became too strong, the musk burning your nose in an enclosed area like the mess hall, the training areas, or even public spaces. 

You preferred keeping to yourself, to alleviate the growing headache pounding at your head, to find a calmer corner of the base you were permanently moved to. You knew the people you worked with from prior assignments, a few times on month long covert operation and others on week long clandestine missions offshore, but you liked your silence when you could afford to find it. Even outside, their scents clung to your clothes, the strong smell of Price’s smoke and Ghost’s bourbon, the distinct notes of strength and dominance that screamed Alpha, Soap’s sweeter and softer citrus that you could pick up despite the scent blockers and Gaz’s gentle vanilla, a soothing calmness that reminded you that you weren’t the only buffer to the team, that you were the only beta.

“Found ye, Hound!” You liked the way Soap said your callsign, his accent coming into play to make it sound different —special. 

He swung his arm over your shoulder, pulling you to his side, your nose twitching from how close you were to his scent glands. You felt like he did it with intention, always finding a way to have you smelling like him and filling your mind with his scent, it was near addictive —so much so that you would’ve succumbed to it if you were an alpha, mind shutting off and body acting on it’s own volition. You wouldn’t blame anyone for it, Soap smelled so good, a sinful delight that people were deprived of, and when he wasn’t using the patches, it numbed your mind, made you slow and sloppy with your thoughts and acts. He knew the effect he had on you and he loved it from his constant hazing, flashing his gland in your face and drowning you in it whenever he could. Perhaps it was his claim on you, you never truly understood the whole dynamic, you were a buffer with a better nose, nothing more and nothing less.

“We were lookin’ fer ye,” he walked back in, still holding you in his grasp, “We’re going tae the pub. Thought ah’d come and get ye.”

They, on multiple occasions, had invited you to go drink with them, extending that olive branch your way with smiles and encouraging nods. You were tempted to accept, but you didn’t do well in enclosed and crowed spaces, so you declined over and over, but they never stopped asking you. It got to a point where you were waiting for them to stop asking, to tire themselves of befriended you, and yet, they never did, going so far as to pull you along despite your grumbling and exhaustion, promising a night of rest and relaxation at the pub. 

And fortunately, their words rang true, it was a blessing to your nose that the owners burned an overpowering but gentle incense that blocked all types of scents, a relief you rarely got. The only thing you could smell was the comforting scents of your new pack, the oil-packed burgers and fries, and the strong burn of alcohol, all thing that you didn’t mind as long as it came in moderation to your nose. After your first drunken and giggling visit to the pub with them, basking in their attention, Soap throwing himself over Ghost’s lap and grinning at you cheekily, Gaz leaning against your side, nuzzling the crook of your shoulder, Ghost’s big and warm hand grasping your thigh and Price looking on with so much pride. 

“The occasion?” You followed him blindly, blinking lazily at him.

“Yer third month with us,” he smiled widely, something carnal and wild, befitting more an alpha than the omega he was. Maybe that’s why he could easily pass as an alpha, with all his bravado and broadness, either way, he was a dangerous man alone, but as a Task Force, they were a menace.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #gaz mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #captain price #captain john price #captain price x reader #cod omegaverse #Beta!reader #omegaverse #tf 141 x reader #poly 141 #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #poly tf141 #tf141 x reader

[gothmotoboy]

My first song music video snippet: Dsvab4 - Fast Movers ft. Gaz (Prod. Dsvab4)

#first song #futuristic synth #producer #my music #mw2 beta #mw2 2022 #music video

[podheadartist420]

A really fun M16 build I made during the MW2 beta

#ar15build #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #m16 #mw2 beta

[rv3rblog]

alpha!gaz who’s your childhood best friend, the two of you dancing between the line of courting and just friends

alpha!gaz who scents you before the two of you go out for a night, under the impression that he’s doing it to keep you safe and to make sure you don’t get any unwanted attention

alpha!gaz who holds you close before he leaves for deployment, scents you deeply to make sure you still smell like him before he leaves

alpha!gaz who purrs appreciatively when he gets a care package from you while deployed and sees you put in a pillowcase for that smells like you

alpha!gaz who sends you letters every week and vice versa

alpha!gaz who talks about his sweet omega waiting for him at home to tf141

alpha!gaz who calls you one night, drunk off his ass, whining about missing you like a pup

“mm, ‘m jus’ miss you darlin’ my pretty omega, miss you so much. wanna scent you, wanna smell like you too. mm you’re my omega, my pretty one hm?”

alpha!gaz who pretends he didn’t basically confess to you and is grateful you don’t bring it up (even if you’re dying to bring it up, want to know if he meant it)

alpha!gaz who comes back home to you and you’re slightly distant and he won’t have that. he corners you, asking you what happened and what’s wrong.

“did someone hurt you love? someone do something to you?” he asks as he holds your face in his hands.

you try to pull away, try to keep some distance between you two because gaz always read you so easily, always knew when something was wrong.

“love?”

alpha!gaz who watches as tears gather in your eyes as you try pushing him away, overwhelmed by your own feelings. you snap at him and tell him you don’t appreciate being led on, that it isn’t funny anymore, that it was never funny.

alpha!gaz who scrambles for a way to tell you that he’s into you, so deeply in love with you.

alpha!gaz who watches you calm down and look at him.

alpha!gaz who takes you fully into his arms, scenting you calling you his omega.

“always called you mine,” he mumbles against your neck. “my pretty omega, all mine.”

you stay there in his arms as he continues to scent you, your eyes fluttering close at the contact.

“lemme court you properly yeah?” he whisperers. “wanna show you i can be a good alpha, good for you.”

alpha!gaz who brings you flowers everyday and handmade gifts once a week

alpha!gaz who gives you his clothes more freely now that he’s courting you, wanting you to always smell like him

alpha!gaz who scents you every time now, wanting everyone to know you have an alpha

alpha!gaz who likes smelling like you too, lets you scent him and smiles appreciatively when he goes on with his day smelling like his sweet omega

just alpha!gaz :p

#i love abo sm i cant #the softness of it makes me insane #had to write my bf sorry (lies) #fanfiction #kyle garrick #x male reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x male reader #gaz x reader #gaz x y/n #kyle garrick x male reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x y/n #alpha beta omega #abo #cod x reader #cod mw gaz #cod mw2 #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #gaz my beloved #omegaverse #omega reader

[feedingfrenzy91]

Modern Warfare 2 Third Person Mode Changing

I think this is good news as I really didn't enjoy this mode in the beta.

Gameplay: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 Beta

May God bless you all.

Gamespot article: https://www.gamespot.com/videos/moder...

Thumbnail: https://www.nme.com/news/gaming-news/...

#youtube #Modern Warfare 2 beta #MW2 Beta #Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2 beta #Gamespot #nme.com #nme #Modern Warfare 2 Third Person Mode #MW2 #Modern Warfare 2 #Gaming #Feedingfrenzy91

[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: You are settling in to living in a new country. Your Alpha wants to show you how important you are to him.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI (no others for this chapter)

Word count: 3.4k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there.

A/n: Oh my GOD. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! I can't believe the amount of love this fic is getting. I just had to write another chapter for you guys asap. I have a taglist so comment if you'd like to join it.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Two:

You sigh as you take in the barren state of your room. All that was left was boxes and your suitcases. Your mom is going to send the rest of your belongings after you arrive in Amsterdam. You were sad to leave your childhood home and your parents but, excited to see what the future holds. Especially now that you have a very sweet Alpha taking care of you. As much as you hate to admit it, your inner Omega has longed for this day. You still couldn't shake the nerves of moving to a completely different country. The AOMO assisted you with your visa which was easy to get approved for. Countries were more lenient with citizenship when it came to obtaining a mate. You haven't seen König in about a week. He went back to Amsterdam to prepare for your arrival. A knock sounded at your door before it opened. 

“You ready?” Your Dad asked, moving to grab your suitcases for you. 

“Yeah.” You followed him out of the room.

Your Mother was standing near the door, her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill. You went over and hugged her. 

“My baby girl, moving out. I'm gonna miss you.” 

“I'll come visit, don't worry.”

“You better.” Your dad called an Uber to get to the airport.

The drive was silent besides the quiet radio in the background. The airport was busy. This was your first time flying by yourself, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. You gave your mother and father one last hug before to went to check your bags. Your mother shed a tear and adjusted your protection collar again, urging you to be safe. You bid them goodbye and headed to check your bags and go through security. Once you made it to your gate your phone vibrated. You didn't recognize the number. 

'Hello liebe, It is König. Kara has given me your number.'

'I am not used to texting, I text no one. Are you at the plane?'

Your heart jumped with excitement hearing from him. 

'Hi König, I am at my gate. It boards in about an hour I think.'

'Wonderful, I will be waiting for you when you arrive.' 

'See you then.'

You suppressed a squeal as you put your phone away. Your inner Omega was getting a little out of hand with her feelings about him. You felt like a middle schooler with a crush. You distracted yourself by using the bathroom and buying some expensive airport snacks to tide you over on the ride. It was a seven-hour overnight flight set to arrive at eleven am Netherlands time. Once you boarded the plane you got comfortable for the long flight. You brought a blanket from home and a neck pillow. Kara set you up with a window seat. As you took off you silently said goodbye to the big city and hello to your new future. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke as the lights of the plane cabin turned on. The flight attendants told everyone to prepare for landing. You gathered your things and gazed out your window. The city was lush, the leaves were turning slightly as fall rolled in. Your heart pounded against your chest with excitement, your Omega desperately wanted to see König. You still had to go through customs and baggage claim. 

König wasn't much better. Throughout the week he had distracted himself by cleaning and buying things for your arrival, but that did little to quell the Alpha in him. He brought new bedding for your nest. He didn't know what kind you'd like so he got a little bit of everything. Fluffy faux fur blankets, cooling quilts, silk sheets, you name it. He also started putting aside t-shirts he has worn in case you wanted them for your nest. His apartment had two bedrooms, one of which he never used. It had a bed and that was about it. Although he desperately wanted you to sleep in his bed, he knew Omegas needed their space to nest and feel at home. He furnished the room with a desk, nightstand, dresser, and TV. He would leave the decorating up to you as that has never been his strong suit. He waited outside of baggage claim tapping his foot anxiously. He had arrived entirely too early but couldn't stand to sit in his apartment any longer. 

Customs went by smoothly. You scanned the conveyor belts for your luggage. The longer the wait was the more your heart pounded. You were starting to sweat making your scent waft to the people around you. You moved to a corner with fewer people to avoid the annoyed looks people would give you. Your luggage finally made its round in the rotunda and you snatched it as fast as you could. You walked outside to the pickup area the sun blinding you for a moment as you looked around. You inhaled deeply trying to pinpoint König's scent. The faint smell of bread and cinnamon entered your nose through the breeze. You looked to the left seeing a familiar mop of hair behind a black SUV. He was too tall not to be the Alpha you were looking for. You walked up to him his back turned to you. 

“König.” You said happily. 

He turned to you surprised. “You're here.”

König was trying to contain his excitement. His inner alpha pressured him to pick you up, to hold you. As if reading his mind, you hugged him. He wrapped his arms around you, dwarfing you. He bent down resting his nose in your hair, savoring your scent. You looked up at him keeping your arms around his waist. He had his black surgical mask on. 

“I'm so happy to see you.”

“I spent every day thinking of you liebe.” 

He reluctantly released the embrace and opened the passenger side door for you. You sat in the car and watched him load your luggage into the trunk. He slid into the driver's seat glancing at you before pulling off onto the road. His scent sweetened the longer he was in your presence. 

“How was the flight?” He asked.

“It was easy, I just slept.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.” 

König reached behind your seat to the back and grabbed a white paper bag. He handed it to you all without taking his eyes off the road. Inside was a croissant and a peach Danish. 

“Oh thank you König. You really know the way to woo me.” You chuckled taking a bite of the Danish. 

He responded with 'hmm' and a content smile. The ride was about thirty minutes. You gazed out the window taking in the sights of your new city. Many people rode bikes and there were endless cafes. König parallel parked onto a quiet residential block. You got out of the car taking in your surroundings. The houses were all unique in color and style. Only one person was walking down the street. König unloaded your bags and put them on the sidewalk. You went to grab them but he shooed your hands away. He locked the car and started walking. The house he led you to was a brick home with a few steps leading to the foyer. He opened the door and let you walk inside first before carrying your bags in with ease. You walked up the two flights of stairs. 

“The door is open.” König said from behind you. 

The second door came into view and you opened the door for him. He sets your bags down and closes the door behind him. The apartment was furnished but bland. Not much decor or color. It was obvious he doesn't spend much time here as it did not look lived in. 

“Come.” He said leading you down the small hallway.

 He opened the first door, it was the bathroom. Quite large for an apartment bathroom, you were excited to use the tub. He then lead you to the second door it was a nice furnished bedroom there were a lot of shopping bags near the bed. 

“This is your room. I brought nesting material for you but, I was not sure what you liked.” 

You walked in. The natural light of the morning flooded into the room through the large windows. The building was high enough that you had a decent view of the neighborhood. 

“König, you didn't have to buy all these for me.” 

“Nonsense.” 

You smiled. “Thank you, Alpha.” 

König's heart thumped against his chest. He didn't expect you to use his title so soon, but he was over the moon.

“You're welcome Omega.” He purred.

Your Omega preened at the title. Although the situation was new, you felt safe and cared for. You started opening some of the bedding to assess them for your new nest. There was a large dark blue comforter with matching silk sheets. You knew you should focus on unpacking but the temptation to build your nest was too high. König watched you from the door with adoration. He was proud of himself for making his Omega feel happy and safe. He brought your luggage into your room to unpack whenever you were ready. 

You were completely engrossed in your nest you didn't realize König was watching you. You took off your shoes and jacket and started arranging the sheets first to have a silky base. Then you used the quilts as a border before you could arrange it properly your phone started ringing, taking you out of the daze you were in. You reached for your phone in your jacket pocket. It was your mom. 

“Mom it's so early there you didn't have to call now.” 

“I know sweetie I just was paranoid. Did you arrive safe?” 

“I did, I'm at König's now.” 

“Oh, great ok that's all I was worried about. I'm gonna head back to sleep. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too Mom”

You hung up the phone and looked around at the mess of packaging on the floor. You were debating whether you should continue making your nest or clean your mess up. Sensing your internal struggle König spoke. 

“Let's unpack Schatz.”

“Oh, right.” 

You unzipped your suitcases and started sorting things into the dresser and closet. You instructed König to put your toiletries in the bathroom and put your clothes in certain drawers. He was happy to help, spending time with his Omega was the most important thing to him. König was given a little over three months' leave to settle with his Omega. After Christmas, he had to go back on missions. The thought made his heart ache. He shook off the negative feelings before she could pick up on anything, not wanting her to worry. König picked up the packaging placing it in one of the shopping bags. He went to the kitchen to throw it away. 

Now that he was here he did not know what to do. Does he give her space? Should he take her out? König wants to spend as much time as possible with her, but he did not want to be overbearing. Before he could overthink, he heard you calling him. Walking into your room he saw you kneeling on the bed. 

“Take off your shoes and come I want to test something.” You said. 

He obliged, taking his shoes off. You waved him over to your unfinished nest. He stepped up to you hesitantly not wanting to cross any boundaries with your nest. You grabbed his hand and made him lie down. König stiffened not wanting to ruin anything. He has never been invited into an Omega's nest before. You started arranging your nesting materials around him. Once you got a good sense of how many blankets you needed for both of you to be comfy, you released him. He sat up carefully trying not to disturb anything that you arranged. He was honored that you'd feel comfortable just being in the room while you created your space. 

While making your nest you noticed how barren the room was. You wanted it to be warm and cozy. You looked up at König. 

“Let's go shopping, Alpha. Can we?” 

“Sure, liebe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König was surprised you had so much energy after your night of travel. You took in the scenery of the local shops. You slipped your hand into Konigs and led him into a home decor shop. König let himself be dragged around as you browsed. Every shop they went into you picked up small things. A wall mirror, a pretty tapestry, a cute frog statue, you had to have it. One of the shops you walked into sold Omega protection collars. You sighed.

“I wouldn't mind wearing mine as much if it looked better.” 

The shop made custom-fit metal collars. There was a beautiful gold metal collar with a dangle charm in the center. It came down to a point near the clavicle. Contrary to your basic black leather one. 

“Would you like this one?” König asked. 

“Oh, no it's expensive.” 

You moved to walk out of the shop but you felt a hand on your waist stop you. König pulled you back to him gently and waved over the sales associate. 

“Can she try this one on?” The worker nodded and took the collar out of the case. 

You removed your collar with the key you kept in your wallet and let the worker place the gold one on you. You looked in the mirror and smiled. It complimented you in the best way, simple yet elegant. The worker explained that they do custom fittings that take a few days to make but it's worth it. You removed the collar and handed it back. 

“She would like to get fitted.” König said suddenly. 

“What? No König really it's too much.”

“Just in case.”

“In case what?” 

He didn't answer. The worker did a few measurements around your neck and the size and placement of your scent glands, writing them down on a form. After they were done they bid the both of you goodbye and looked forward to your order. 

“I don't think I'm gonna get it.” You told König.

“It's too much...” You added

“That's ok.” He said. 

He placed his arm around your waist as you walked, holding your shopping bags in the other hand. You had a feeling he was planning something but you let it go for the time being. 

By the time you got home, it was getting dark. König placed your shopping bags into your room. You yawned. 

“You should sleep liebe, you've had a busy day.” König said. 

“Yeah, I'll head to bed early so I can finish my nest.” You stretched your back and walked to your room. König followed behind you heading to his room. He grabbed your wrist spinning you back toward him. His other hand caressed your cheek while leaning down to your level. He pulled down his mask revealing his plump lips.

“Goodnight Omega.” He kissed your cheek. 

König felt it was only right to return the kiss you gave him before. He let the kiss linger for a few seconds before pulling away. Heat crept from your neck to your cheeks. König walked to his room smiling to himself. You leaned against your door, heart racing. You opened the door, your inner Omega was reeling from your Alpha's attention. Your alpha? You were completely smitten by the giant Apex. You closed the door, changed into pajamas, and jumped into your nest. You sighed into the pillows, fantasizing about your Alpha. You began adjusting your nest to your liking. It ended up taking you an hour to make it perfect, keeping in mind the space for König. You'd never made a nest with someone else in mind but it was nice. You got cozy and let sleep take over. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light entered your room slowly waking you. You looked at your phone, it was 6:04 am. You sat up and stretched, happy that you beat the jetlag. Wondering if König was awake, you quietly stepped out of your room and down the hallway to his room. You knocked gently. König was a light sleeper. He heard your small footsteps before you knocked and went to open the door. He looked down at your face still flushed with sleep. 

“Good morning.” You said, absentmindedly rubbing your eyes. 

König purred deeply. You looked so cute in your PJs he wanted to pull you into his bed., for more than just cuddling. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

“Morning Schatz.” He guided you down the hallway to the kitchen. 

“I can make us pancakes for breakfast.” You suggested.

“Sounds wonderful.” 

König watched you flit around the kitchen. The kitchen was barely used because of his job, so it was nice seeing it get used. Your head snapped to the alpha when you realized he was watching you. 

“Go sit, I'll bring it to you.” 

König nodded and sat on the couch. He turned on the TV as he waited and listened to the kitchen utensils clanging in the background. A few minutes later you emerged with a plate for him topped with syrup. He took the plate and looked at the food quizzically. 

“What's wrong?” you asked. 

“These...are pancakes?” He analyzed the fluffy discs.

“Yeah, are pancakes different here?” He nodded.

“I'll try them.” He carved out a bite with his fork. You watched him intensely. 

“How is it?” 

“...Sweet, but good.” He said. 

You smiled and went to get yourself a plate. You plopped down next to him on the couch and you took a bite. You watched the random movie he put on as you ate, feeling perfectly content with your Alpha.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, you were on the couch typing away on your laptop working on your next chapter. König was struggling to find something to do with himself. He wanted to give you space to write, but desperately wanted to spend time with you. He understood that your job was time sensitive. He was lucky to have you here at all. You heard König pacing behind you causing you to lose your concentration. You got up and went to your room. You rummaged through your suitcase, finding a copy of your fantasy novel. You walked up to König and handed him the book before returning to your spot on the couch. He appeared next to you on the couch glancing over the blurb. 

“I thought I had to buy a copy?” He said. 

“Well, you need something to do.” You chuckled. 

You two fell into a comfortable silence with König's mind now occupied. After a while, you glanced at the Alpha. He was engrossed in the pages well into the starting plot. 

“How is it so far?” 

“So good Schatz. I have not read a novel in a long time, I like it.”

“I'm glad.”

König bent the corner of the page he was on and closed the book. You nearly felt your heart jumped out of your chest.

“Ah! König!!!” You grabbed the book and attempted to straighten the corner out.

“This is a book sin!” You exclaimed.

“Oh? But I have no bookmark.” He gave you an amused look. 

“Ok just ask for one I have many!” You pouted.

“The book isn't hurt.”

“How do you know?” 

König laughed. It was so genuine and hearty that you almost forgot what you were upset about. You turned away and set the book page-side down. König's laughter died down and he looked at you. 

“You're adorable, Schatz.”

“Hmph.” You said. 

König reached around cupping your cheek. You turned to him. It was surprising to see his face a couple of inches away from yours. His eyes were soft as they gazed into yours, he looked down at your lips before capturing yours in a chaste kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed, leaning into the kiss. Your bottom lip slotted in between his in the most delicious way. He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again. One of his hands slithered around your waist pulling you flush against his torso. The other hand firmly gripped the side of your jaw. 

Your heart pounded so loud you swear he could hear it.

König smiled against your lips. He finally had his Omega. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: Comment to join

@that-fangirl-1106 @itsryuken @y2katsuki

#konig fluff #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader #alpha konig #tw a/b/o #a/b/o fic #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #omegaverse #omega reader #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig x y/n #könig #könig fluff #könig mw2 #könig mwii

[bunnyreaper]

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘

𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝖕𝖙 2 — 𝖕𝖙 1 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊, 𝖕𝖙 3 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

wc - 5.2k

warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, smut, phone sex, wee bit of angst, brief mention of the word 'daddy'

notes - vibrating with both excitement and fear, but hoping y'all love this like you loved the last one!! also on ao3! ♥

Johnny was right to send you to bed when he did because you're already struggling to get through the day, and on any less sleep, you might have fallen asleep at your desk. Clearly, you're terrible at making decisions for yourself, if that wasn't already evidenced by the nearly empty fridge accompanied by the pile of empty takeout containers.

It's not even the end of the workday yet, and you're beat—except staying up with Johnny was so worth it, getting to hear his voice and everything he said was complete bliss. You only wish he was here now, whispering in your ear and making your day go by quicker. Unfortunately, the sad reality is that beyond your good morning text, you haven't heard from him since, and you hate that you already feel like you're suffering from withdrawals. 

Again, that could be the lack of sleep, or adequate nutrition, or the fact that lately you haven't exactly been the most social person, and you've definitely been missing social contact. All of that missing need you just want to be filled by Johnny, Johnny, Johnny—his name like a chanted prayer in your mind. 

You at least have the sense of mind to focus when you need to, but at any idle moment, Johnny crawls back into your brain. Your mind drifts to wondering what he's up to, wondering where in the world they've shipped him off to this time—what timezone is he even in? What hemisphere? 

5 p.m. comes round sooner than you expect, and you find yourself logging off from your work laptop with a relieved sigh. You might be exhausted from lack of sleep, but Johnny's arrival in your life left you energised in a way you hadn't felt in so long. Every part of you hums with excitement, thinking about what the future might hold. 

You have to keep snapping yourself out of getting lost in the fantasy, even as you find yourself rereading through texts and committing Johnny's words to memory. The last time you did this still sticks in the back of your mind, still stings—someone who came into your life and was everything until they were nothing. Someone who said they could be trusted as they broke down your barriers. 

The aching loneliness was too much, so you'd run from it straight into something worse, not even realising how easily you fell into the trap. 

Your thoughts were spiraling, and you needed a distraction, so you put on the TV in the hopes of getting lost in the shitty reality dating show you've been watching lately. 

A few hours later, the buzz of your phone pulls you from the drama of the screen—your spirits soaring as you see the little icon you're rapidly growing attached to. 

Evening bonnie, hope you're not napping too close to bed time. 

hi!! no... for once, lol. how was your day? 

Long, but thoughts of you got me through ;) how was yours? 

The rapid responses mean your smile never has time to waver, as your eyes are glued to the screen watching as the messages are read, the app tells you he is typing and then another one of his messages appears. 

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you eagerly respond.

somehow managed to not fall asleep at my desk, i would've napped but... 

But? 

didn't want to risk missing any messages from you. 

Johnny heart reacts to the message immediately. 

Call? 

please!!! 

Mere seconds later, his face fills the screen once more, and your sheer excitement overtakes your nerves by far.

"Hi." You say shyly, as soon as you accept the call.

"Hi bonnie, gotcha on loudspeaker by the way." He greets you, his voice immediately sending warmth through you. 

You were rapidly growing obsessed with his terms of endearment, too. 

"Oh." You pause, suddenly self-conscious and hesitant. "Are you not alone?" Does anyone in his life even know you exist? You know you haven't really mentioned to your friends that you're 'dating' again.

"Definitely am, don't worry. Jus' need ma hands free." 

At that, your brow furrows, your voice filling with both mischief and disbelief. "What are you doing, Johnny?" 

He chuckles, before rustling some papers around. "Paperwork, nothing fun." 

Even hearing the word paperwork right now drains you, and can hear that Johnny isn't exactly pleased with the idea either. 

"Wishing I was under the desk again?" You ask, hoping your playful tone will make him smile. 

"Dinnae start." He groans. "What are you doing? Have you eaten?" 

"Not yet, I need to check my milk is still in date." You throw yourself off the sofa and make your way through to the kitchen—it's a good job Johnny actually poked you to eat. 

"Milk?" His voice is filled with confusion.

"For cereal." 

"Ach." 

"I can feel your disapproval from here." You can practically sense him shaking his head disapprovingly too. 

"Good, I see how this gonae be." He sighs, the disappointment evident, along with that sense of control, guidance. 

It just makes you tingle.

"Yes, daddy?" You giggle audaciously like you know exactly what you're doing, and hope it has the effect you want it to.

Johnny chokes, and then growls... and then sighs. "Away n bile yer heid." He whispers, yet he sounds anything but angry, his voice thick with arousal as he undoubtedly fights all kinds of urges. 

You want to take that step with Johnny, to dirty talk with him now that you feel comfortable, but you suppose now isn't the time—after all, he is still working. 

"I'm being mean now, sorry." 

"A right brat." He growls playfully. "Do something for me, lass?" 

The shift in his tone and the previous conversation topic gives you a good guess at what's coming next. "Is it cooking a real meal?" You groan playing into the role.

Well, admittedly committing to self-care tasks like cooking isn't the easiest thing in the world, and having someone to guide you in that is... a turn-on. 

"Knew you were a smart girl." He purrs, and those words turn your brain and your body to mush. 

You have to stifle a whine from leaving you, as your face flushes furiously. Oh, how you wish you could hear that over and over again—in that voice, with that accent, whispered right in your ear as he—

"What you gonna cook?" He asks, interrupting your rapidly spiraling thoughts. 

Staring into the fridge is a depressing experience—the shelves are mostly bare and there's a faint smell of something off. "Ugh, I don't have a lot in, to be honest." 

"Logging onto the Tesco website now, or maybe meal delivery service..." He muses, and you can imagine the smirk on his lips.

"Johnny!" Your protest is weak, as the coddling and infantalisation make you feel something you probably shouldn't. 

He snickers at your tone, but he knows now that if things are to continue, he won't listen to your objections. "Jokin'... for now. Talk me through yer fridge, lass." 

"Do you cook?" You ask, wondering if he's going to magically talk you through a recipe with the condiments in your fridge and the dried pasta in the pantry. 

There's a beat of silence. "Not often." 

You're overcome with a fit of giggles and a wave of faux offense. "Then who are you to lecture me?" 

Johnny meets your exclamation with a series of tuts, which already quiet your discontent, but you find yourself ruined when his voice drops and he delivers his next few words. "What happened to 'Johnny knows best'?" 

Fuck him, using his powers for good—and you can already tell he's getting off on it too. Today, you won't indulge him by submissively repeating it back, since he's making you face the horror that is cooking.

"Fine." You sigh, looking for what items in the fridge that are actually still in date. You pull open a cupboard or two as well. "I have... hummus and celery and uh, supernoodles in the cupboard." 

"Better than cereal." He waits for your response that doesn't come, as you pout on the end of the phone, and then he plays his next move flawlessly.  "For me, bonnie girl?" 

The plea in his voice makes you melt, makes you want to do just about anything for him. 

"For you." You say with a smile, grabbing the packets of noodles and a saucepan. "Have you eaten?" 

"A have, chicken tikka masala." 

You sigh, knowing that if not for Johnny you could've ordered a nice Indian for yourself—you get to work on the noodles anyway. "Kinda jealous now, if I'm honest."

His laugh is short but earnest. "Same, haven't had beefy supernoodles in an age." 

"Yeah, I would hope they're feeding you actually decent, nutritious food over there." 

He huffs. "I would hope you're feeding yerself decent food, but here we are." That playful judgement is back, lacing his words and making you crave his approval. 

It's a startling thought, that here you are, only a few days in and needing his praise, his encouragement—you suppose it comes easy as it plays into both of your natural instincts—his to lead, yours to follow.

"Less sass, more... paperwork." You grumble playfully, trying to cover up the fact that, maybe, you like being teased by him. 

"Aye." He laughs, and you can briefly hear him scribbling in the silence.  

For a few moments, it's just the sound of him writing and you cooking, but the quiet feels comfortable rather than awkward—strangely routine and domestic after such a short space of time. 

Your mind wanders back to what the two of you had discussed last night, about his day later in the week. "Have you thought more about Friday?" 

There's a brief shuffle and the sound of the call changes as Johnny seems to take you off the loudspeaker and moves around. "Meetin' you?" 

"Yeah." There's a sense of nervousness within you, a fear he's going to suddenly decide that he doesn't want to see you after all, that he doesn't see this going anywhere. It's so soon, and yet the thought seems crushing. 

"Haven't thought of much else." His confession seems to settle your rapidly beating heart just a little, the sincerity in his voice making your stomach twist and turn. 

Maybe you shouldn't push it, but you want to meet him more than anything, so you can make the first step toward all of this becoming real. "Would you be up for coffee? I can come to you!" 

"About that..." His sigh is weary, and panic overtakes you as the silence stretches on. "Am leaving for a week or so." 

It's not a total rejection at least, but somehow it still stings, still settles heavy and unpleasant in your gut. "When?" 

"Tomorrow." He falls silent, waiting for you to say something, yet you don't know what words to even summon right now. "'m sorry, lass." 

You take a deep breath for a moment, collecting your thoughts as you stir your noodles and try to put everything you feel into some sort of coherent order. 

There's no logical reason to feel rejected, as it's not that he doesn't want the date, but that he can't. Perhaps it's that lingering thought that this kind of thing will be a frequent occurrence—it's just a small taste of what's to come. But wanting Johnny means handling this, like he deserves. 

You push through the discomfort and force yourself into a more positive mindset.

"But... after that? Or is this just because you hate coffee so much you're fleeing the country?" You laugh softly, hoping the joke will lighten the thick atmosphere. 

"Now, if you'd asked me out for tea..." He laughs in return, before turning serious. "But... when I'm back, I'd love to see you. Have ta, really. " 

"I'm glad." The beaming smile on your face is ridiculous, and you're so thankful he can't see you grinning like an idiot at his words. He has to meet you. 

With your cooking complete, you take the saucepan off the stove and pour the noodles into a bowl, grabbing it before returning to the comfort of the couch. "Okay, noodles done." 

"Wanna call me back once yer done, or?" 

Fuck, he's so considerate. 

You hum negatively as you start to blow on the noodles to cool them. "I'll eat on the phone if you don't mind the sound of me slurping." 

Johnny chuckles, before making a suggestive noise. 

"The noodles, Johnny." 

He coughs, covering more juvenile laughter. "Aye, the noodles, of course." 

"So... going anywhere fun?" You ask, referencing his upcoming deployment. 

"Classified, I'm afraid." He answers curtly, but you know it's nothing more than his duty. 

No questions about that, then, you suppose. It's going to be a strange thing to adjust to, but it's another thing that comes along with accepting Johnny into your life. You change your line of questioning, hopefully to something he can answer. "Are you... scared?" 

"No." He answers quickly and firmly, in a manner that suggests certainty rather than bravado. "Don't worry about me, hen." He rushes to add.

"Kinda hard not to, even if we only just met..." You sigh, but you suppose you have to trust Johnny's skills and training. "I imagine it only gets more intense from here." 

The admission feels like a swift kick to the stomach. 

"Yeah..." You hear a knock on the door from Johnny's end, and he swears colourfully under his breath. "Ach, can I call yer back?" 

It's almost cruel the way such timing drives the point home. 

"Sure, things to attend to?" You ask absentmindedly, not really expecting an answer. 

He sighs, before trying to turn his tone more positive. "Aye, but I'll catch you before bed, yeah?" 

"Yeah. Bye, Johnny." 

"Bye, lass." 

He ends the call, leaving you with your meal and your thoughts. 

Maybe you aren't strong enough to deal with this after all, you think, trying to settle the ugly, gnawing feeling inside you. It already hurts, but maybe that's because you're trying to hold so tight onto something intangible. Maybe if you and Johnny become something, mean something to each other, it'll all be easier to deal with. 

It's an hour or so later when you're tucked up in bed that Johnny's call lights up your phone. You pick it up instantly. 

"Hey, glad you haven't fallen asleep already." He chuckles, his voice softer than before. 

"Mmm, still hanging on." You mumble, cheek pressed into plushness and tiredness lingering at the back of your mind, as well as the mess of feelings that still simmers within you. 

"Cuddled up with the big B?" He asks, voice cheeky and charming. 

You can't help the soft giggle at the ridiculous nickname. "The big B?!"

"Barnaby!" He clarifies with a hearty laugh, not ashamed at all of his goofiness. 

"The big B! That's so silly" 

The laughs quiet, and another silence falls, but this time you feel the discomfort that comes with it. 

Johnny is the first to breach it, his tone tinged with worry. "How are yer?"

"I'm fine." You sigh, not wanting to elaborate and get yourself upset again. It's not far from the truth. Nothing has changed, but this is something you have to learn to sit with, have to make peace with for both of your sake. 

Johnny cuts right through the noise. "Yer seemed a little upset earlier. Wanna talk about it?" 

Communication—the key to any good relationship, an essential to any kinky one, and one thing you think you really kind of suck at. 

It's a simple sentence with a simple answer, and nothing about Johnny suggests that his reaction will be anything other than supportive—but it's not Johnny's voice that whispers cruel things in the back of your head. And for now, Johnny's influence is not enough to quiet the storm. 

The fear grips at your heart, stops your words right in your throat, but your mind wars between the ghosts of your past and the duty of your present and future. 

Johnny waits quietly, not pushing you for an answer or assuming how you feel, and that small act helps pull you out of the fog and helps you force yourself to speak. 

"Reality setting in, I guess." The words don't come easy at first, your throat tight—but once you start, the rest just seems to flow, taking the weight of your burdens with them. "Like, it's not too bad right now, it's just... knowing what's in store? Assuming we keep talking." 

The opportunity to really put your thoughts in order and get them out actually does help, surprisingly.

Johnny goes silent for a moment, considering your words before he speaks. "If you wanna stop—" 

"I don't." You feel bad for interrupting him, but you already know that's not what you want, even if he sees it as a kindness. "Like I said yesterday, I'm not faint-hearted... the intensity just took me by surprise. All of this has, really." 

"I'm with you there. Sat here thinking about how I'm gonna be thinking of anything else when I'm on the mission." He laughs softly, the sound laden with emotion. "Lt's gonna have my head." 

The gravity of his job sinks in now, with the realisation that he will be busy and focused, and rightfully so.

"Will you be able to get in touch while you're gone?" You ask, more for informational purposes, rather than being unable to last a week without hearing his voice. 

"Not a whole lot, no. Sometimes no' at all, but I'll let you know when I can." He states plainly, and the honesty is so refreshing. 

"I'll try not to bother you too much then." You giggle, though you don't really mean your words. He has his mission, and you have yours—stay strong while he's gone. 

He scoffs instantly. "You? A bother? Never." 

You hum, continuing with your playful statements. "You haven't seen me when I'm clingy." 

"A like clingy, am clingy too." 

Ugh, just when you think he can't be more perfect, he comes out with that. The sweet smile on your face is relentless, and you just know the same is true for him too. "Oh yeah? So you won't be complaining when we meet, and I just take a hold of your hand and don't let go." 

His barked laugh is so genuine that it makes your heart sing. "Bold of yer to assume I'd be letting you go, lass." 

The thought of even his hand in yours is enough to send you into a frenzy—a simple, delicate, and chaste act, yet you crave it like nothing else. When your date finally does come around, you'll be able to touch him and see him up close. You'll be able to hear that voice and those words up close and unrestrained by the slightly shitty quality of the phone call—and that is a little terrifying.  

"I guess waiting isn't a bad thing after all, maybe I'll be less nervous by then." Because right now you know you'd hesitate to reach out and touch him, would struggle looking him in the eye for too long. Maybe if you wait, the radiance that is Johnny's warmth will wear off, but somehow you doubt it. 

"Why ya nervous?" 

You almost snort at such an oblivious question from such a seemingly smart man. "Have you seen you?" Have you talked to you? Been on the end of your affections? Your mind pleads. 

"See this ugly mug every day." He grumbles, though you can still hear the smile. 

"You can't see, but I'm rolling my eyes." You giggle. "But what if I just... can't resist you? Jump you right then and there?" Your voice takes on a more teasing tone. 

"In public?" He tuts, slow and sexy, his voice dropping low. "Naughty girl." 

You straight up whimper. "Needy girl, for you." 

A growl leaves his throat, along with a whispered "Fuck." 

Arousal floods through you, overtakes you, as you feel your mind slipping to a space of deep-seated need, all for him. You feel on fire, your skin hypersensitive to the brush of the sheets, as your lower body hums and begs for attention. No longer can you hold yourself back from falling under his sexy spell. "Your groans, your voice, it all drives me crazy." 

The laugh that leaves him is weaker, choked with arousal. "All wet fer me, bonnie?" His voice, now a touched graveled, wraps so wonderfully around every word. 

"Soaked." You squirm in place, not even needing to feel to know just how dripping you are—every time he teases you, you practically gush. Your spare hand dives below the sheets, tracing ever so slightly over your stomach as it crawls lower. "Johnny?" 

"Yes, bonnie?" It sounds like his control is wavering too. 

"Please can I touch? I need it so bad." You whine and plead, surrendering yourself to Johnny's command. 

"You don't—" Another growl leaves his throat, you hear him shuffle and when his voice returns, he sounds even more aroused than before—sweet, gentle domination drips from his tone. "Touch yerself, go on." 

You comply immediately, your hand diving under your waistband and zeroing in on your swollen clit—relief floods you the second you make contact, your fingers rubbing delicate swirls on your soaked nub as gentle moans force themselves free. 

"Oh fuck." Johnny's breathing is ragged between his groans. "Gonna have tae join ya." 

"Fuckfuckfuck." Your eyes slip shut as you imagine him reaching down to free his aching cock, all for you. Your thoughts center on conjuring up an image of how long and thick you imagine him to be. "Is... is your cock as big as the rest of you?" 

You squeak out your words while you still have command over the English language.

"Guess you'll find out soon enough." He chuckles breathlessly, some of the words catching in his throat as he clearly works himself. "But I don't think you'll be disappointed. I know how tae take care of yer, know you're already desperate for me." 

Your circles quicken, his words sending pleasure coursing through you in a way that almost feels better than your touch. You fill the air with breathy moans. "Need you, Johnny." 

"Need you too, pet." He growls his words over the building slick sound.

"Oh fuck." Your reaction is instant, the word sending everything in your brain into overdrive. Pet. Pet. You almost cum right then and there, but his assault on your senses and sensibilities continues. 

"God, thinking about you on the end of a leash for me? So fuckin' hard thinking about it." His voice modulates between and whine and a growl, his need growing furiously. "I'd be so fuckin' lucky." 

You imagine the collar slipping around your neck, imagine Johnny clicking shut a lock and attaching a leash—pulling you to him just as he is now with every word. 

"I'd be the most loyal pet ever, I swear." You start to babble, unable to hold back any longer on the wave of submission that overtakes you. "I'll Wait for you to come home, naked and kneeling with my leash ready." 

"Jesus, fuck." Each grunt that leaves him makes you shiver. Each word like its own bolt of electricity straight from his body to yours. "Yeah, my good girl would be so lost without me." He says it with such certainty, speaking the truth to life. 

"I get separation anxiety like mad. I'll miss your touch, miss your smell, miss your taste—" You cut yourself off with a high-pitched whine, your fingers working you so fucking close to the edge.

"Don't worry, I'd fuck you so good before I go bonnie, fill yer up and leave you dripping with me." His groans are accompanied by more of those slick sounds. "Mark that pretty neck o' yours, too." 

"I'm... I'm not gonna last." You admit, holding back even now from cumming—you crave his permission. 

"Me either. Go on, moan for me, let me hear you." He urges you gently, even if his voice is filled with need. 

You let all your noises flow freely as you teeter toward the edge and desperately try to please him with the sounds you make. It's all too good, too much, too overwhelming. 

"Johnny, can I—" 

His demand is out of his mouth before you can even finish your sentence. "Cum fer me, bonnie. Go on." 

You cum with a strangled cry, flying over the edge right as Johnny demands it. The build-up of the past few days along with Johnny's noises has you shaking in ecstasy—ecstasy that's only prolonged when he cums too with a long, drawn-out groan.

After a moment, the only sound is both of your heavy breathing, as you come down from your high. 

"Oh my god." You sigh, a silly, blissed-out grin overtaking your features.

"You okay, sweet girl?" His voice returns to that sweetness you're coming to know and love.

You nod mindlessly, even though he can't see you. "Better than okay, are you?" 

He hums in affirmation, before his voice turns a touch serious. "You did so good. Just want tae make sure you're good, and a didn't go too far." 

"Hah, I mean, nowhere near too far." You admit shakily. 

"Am glad, it's only early days, though. That trust..." He hesitates. 

"... It takes a while, yeah." The post-orgasmic bliss coupled with the feeling of that trust taking root and growing. "I'm glad you understand." 

And he understands perfectly, as you never feel pushed or rushed, only pampered and adored. 

"Of course... it's special, for both of us." He admits, and you know you're on the same wavelength when it comes to the bond and relationship between dominant and submissive. 

"Mhmm." You hum dreamily, wholeheartedly agreeing and yet not able to summon up something profound. 

"Already sleepy?" His laughter is soft and sincere. 

"I'd get so much rest if every night was like this." 

"Even more so when I finally get to fuck ya, bonnie." He whispers so casually, yet even after your orgasm your clit still thrums with interest—God, he has such a hold on you.

"Yeah?" You sigh, dreaming of the day you'll get to experience it. 

"Yeah." 

The line falls silent, and you feel yourself fading. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so... sleepy." You whisper while you still have the chance. 

"It's okay, sweet girl, close yer eyes. Am right here." Johnny's sweet voice lulls you closer and closer, and your phone falls free from your hand to your pillow, resting there with Johnny just on the end of the line. 

"Goodnight Johnny." You mumble, before sleep finally takes you.

"Goodnight, Bonnie." His reply is soft, carrying you off to unconsciousness as he drifts off too.  

-//-

Johnny practically vibrates where he stands—wired beyond belief. Part of it is his usual pre-mission adrenaline, but the events of the past few days especially almost have him climbing the walls. His energy is frenetic as usual but with so much more—lust, yearning, withdrawal. 

It's only been a few hours since he ended the call after waking up before you, and yet he finds his thoughts unable to leave you, even as he finishes gearing up. You'd love to see him like this, and an idea strikes him.

He pulls out his phone, turns to the man beside him, and hopes he doesn't regret asking. Then again, some ribbing from the masked man would be nothing compared to the floored reaction he'd get from you.

"Ghost?" He asks, piercing the comfortable silence between the two of them. 

"What?" Ghost turns, eyeing Johnny and his hand holding his outstretched phone.

Johnny doesn't waver, sure in his request, and eager to see your response. "Take a picture of me, yeah?" 

"Girl back home?" Ghost asks, cutting straight to the point as he takes the phone. "Is this the first time she's seeing you? Cause you look fuckin' rough." 

"No." Johnny frowns, and worry washes over him. Surely Lt. is just messing him around—he knows she'll be happy to see him either way. 

Ghost pulls off a glove and navigates to the camera before stepping back and holding up the phone in Johnny's direction. He might be giving Johnny shit, but he at least takes the time to angle and position the frame in a way that compliments Johnny's stature. "She like the tac gear?" 

Johnny sighs, wishing this was over already. "Just take the picture, Ghost." 

"Say cheese." Ghost deadpans, and the softest of smiles graces Johnny's features—for her, not for him.

Johnny practically snatches the phone back from Ghost's hands, checking out the photo immediately. "Thanks." 

He pulls up their messages immediately, firing off the picture with a kissing face and a teasing message just for her. 

When he locks the phone and throws it in his bag, Ghost's eyes are fixed on him, his blackened eyes narrowed.

"Mind on the mission, yeah, Johnny?" 

Johnny nods, doing his best to push thoughts of her away for now, and letting his inner soldier take over. He'll be back to her before he knows it. "Aye, Lt." 

Days later, and after a successful first phase of the mission, Johnny stares down at his phone. The signal is nonexistent and won't return for a while, but he misses you, his mind is itching with his need for you. In this shitty safe house in the middle of nowhere, while someone else is on watch, there's very little to do, and truly nothing else he'd rather think about. 

He scrolls to the top of your messages, rereading each message and reliving each conversation, experiencing all over again how each message made him feel. 

Your sweet texts, your copious use of emojis, and your cute little selfies—it was all so intoxicating to him. For a man who was so used to maintaining focus, you were a fucking curveball. Something about you just sends his protective instincts into overdrive, makes unearned possessive tendrils curl up through him and around his heart—calls out to his guiding, dominant, caring side.

He has to constantly stamp down the thoughts inside that called out to him to find you, scoop you up, and take you home with him. Luckily for you both, Johnny is a patient man. He spends time out in the field waiting days for anything interesting to happen, he's spent years waiting for his pet, his girl to come along—and you're right there. He can wait a little longer. 

He holds down the record button, intent on recording a message for you, and begins whispering into the phone.

"Hi, been sat on my arse for far too long with nothing to do but think of you. Dinnae think I'll get signal anytime soon, but I 'spose it'll send at some point." He feels himself relax just a little as he falls into Johnny, the man—rather than Soap, the soldier.

"Been thinking about our first date, since you mentioned coffee. Kinda had a crazy idea actually, but I need your input. What about a cat café? Has to be one in that city o' yours, and I figure you must like kitties."

"Won't be long until you might be one for me... or a bunny... or a puppy." He interrupts himself with a sigh.

"Need tae stop those thoughts and quit while I'm ahead. Let me know, yeah? As soon as I get my leave, we'll set it up."

"Talk soon, bonnie." 

#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfic #soap mw2 #i swear i should get a beta reader for this series #i feel bad bcs im posting ch2 so soon with NO idea when 3 is coming #eventually??? #love you all so much #collars and cages

[bigassmoonchild]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: The results came back, the pregnancy results. You fear losing Simon, even after your talk and he holds you close. Things slowly go back to normal, but by god was Simon starting to smell a little too good. And the scent was coming from his door.

Content Tags: Angst, Almost Pregnancy Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Simon Communicating, DROPPING THE L WORD (leprosy), Simon likes compound drama, Mentions of Masturbation, Use of Pet-Names, Teasing, No Use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost

A/N: I'm working one day a week because they only need me one day a week. I might quit, ngl. Anyways, I'm getting better! Not as sick! I'm going to figure out at better way for people to navigate the maple syrup series, but you know the drill. Content under the cut and asks are open!

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

The next few days felt incredibly slow. You'd worked on a bit of paperwork before heading back to your rooms and sitting in your nest, going through the clothes you were intending to give back to Simon because the scent was growing stale. As you were folding one of the last hoodies, a knock on your door made you pause.

Opening it, you saw a soldier standing outside. He gave you a salute before looking down and reading off of the paper he was holding.

"Your presence is required in room 62B. Please be presentable and there within the half hour," he handed you the paper and marched away. Glancing at it, they were requesting you for more questioning based on the hearing you'd been part of.

Shit.

You stood and dug through the wardrobe you had, pulling out a few of your better shirts and pants. At this point, you didn't really care what you wore. So long as it wasn't dirty and didn't have any rips or holes.

Reading the door numbers down to 62B, you took a deep breath before entering, nodding at the few people who were sitting, glancing past Price. You sat, folding your hands on your lap as the people across the table looked at you. They shifted, glancing from the door to you for a few minutes.

"We're just waiting for Riley, you needn't be so stiff, Doctor," you looked away from them, finding Prices eye before looking the other way. You just wanted to get this over with, they hadn't even notified you about your test, so the fact that they only told them about it was weird.

The door opened, and all you could smell was Simon. Leather and tobacco, hints of the gunpowder used on base came through. It smelled muskier, though, and as much as you could smell it wasn't sweat. Not like normal.

He sat beside you, not looking in your direction. The people in front of you shifted the papers about on the table, looking between each other. They didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"The pregnancy test came back," you heard Simon scoff beside you, a quiet 'no shit' coming from him. You rolled your own eyes, glancing down to the carpet under you. It was old, probably older than you.

The man cleared his throat. "It came back positive, at least at first," you looked up, brows furrowing. "After a few minutes, though, it turned negative. We did a few more tests and they eventually came back negative. Conclusively," you closed your eyes, head tilting back.

Why were you feeling so disappointed? Were you actually somewhat excited about having a pup, even if Simon didn't want it?

"Although, they did find some hormones synchronous with what is called a 'false pregnancy'," they explained, reading off of the sheet they had.

You glanced up, watching as they tried to find a way to explain it. "My body had hormones, probably from a fertilized egg that never attached properly, and it left my hormones thinking I was pregnant. They never cleared my body, so my scent and body was changing to prep for the pup," you explained, playing with your fingers.

So close, and yet you were so far from having a pup. You could almost smell distress on Simons scent, but you didn't want to go into the specifics. You couldn't think of his normal scent, not with how deep in your head you'd become.

You could faintly hear them explaining the outcomes, faintly heard a few 'probable cause for the attack' and a few other 'nothing is being pressed,' and finally you came to.

"We're considering this almost exactly the same as if the Omega was actually pregnant," they explained. "So you're getting off on just about the same as a slap on the wrist, but don't think we won't add this to your file," and you stood, turning and walking out.

There was nothing you'd realized you wanted more. A family. A pup to care for and watch grow and eventually maybe, just maybe, add more to your little family.

But no, you didn't have the luxury of that. No, you weren't allowed to have your family, your Alpha had been so mad at you and possibly didn't want you sometimes.

Alpha doesn't want a broken Omega.

You had to fight the tears you could feel building, jaw locking in place as you found yourself moving to your room. A few more halls, one or two more turns and you'd be able to curl up in your nest and hope to God that your Alpha would still want you.

As you went to close your room door, something stopped it from closing. You turned to figure it out, slightly pissed off that it happened. Simon.

"I'm sorry," you could feel tears starting to run out of your eyes, felt him pulling you into his chest and sobs tearing out of your chest. "I'm so sorry," you were muffled by his chest, hands grasping at his shirt and holding tight. You could faintly hear the door close, your legs moving with him as he dropped you back into your nest.

Simon pulled you into his chest, hands running along your back. Your hands never left his chest and you could hear him murmuring into your hair.

"S'alright, lovie, s'alright," he whispered, arms wrapping around your back to pull you in as close as he could. It felt like everything was back to normal but nothing was. Everything was changed but nothing was at the same time.

For what felt like hours, you laid there, grasping at Simon to stay where you were. He rubbed at your back and chuffed into your ear, your tears slowing and sobs breaking into hiccups, breathing slowing as you laid there.

His hands stopped, albeit slowly, before pulling you back to look at him.

"Y'alright?" He asked this time, wiping your face dry. You nodded, then shook your head before dropping it back onto his chest.

"'m sorry, Simon," you whispered, his hand finding your back and resting there. "Failed you," you added finally. He hummed in confusing, head lifting to look down at you.

You swallowed, closing your eyes. "Lost the pup," he shook his head, squeezing you a little. He ran his hand down your arm, rubbing it slowly.

"Didn't lose anything, lovie," he whispered. "Your body was just confused, it's not your fault," you wanted to argue with him, wanted to tell him he was crazy. You lost the pup, and he should get rid of you.

He kept murmuring loving words into your ears, telling you how good of an Omega you were, how much he cared about you. How much he adored that you were his and didn't want to leave.

"Love you, y'know that?" He whispered, hours having passed since the two of you found yourselves inside your nest. He slid you into his hoodie within the first hour, let you lay there and inhale his scent.

You hummed, fighting sleep. It hadn't hit you what he'd said, not yet at least.

"Love y'too," you whispered into his neck, breathing slowing as you were falling asleep. He loved you, Alpha loves you, your head snapped up. "Huh?" Simon barked out a short laugh, pulling his mask from his face as he looked at you.

"Y'didn't hear me?" You blinked slowly at him, smile slowly spreading on your face. His voice grew softer, eyes drifting away from you. He seemed almost, nervous. "Y'forgive me?" He whispered, hands tightening on you.

You nodded, dropping your head on him. "Thought you would've thought of me as a bad Omega," you whispered. "Thought I'd lost you after I said I might be pregnant, then again when they told us I wasn't," he shook his head.

He gave a humorless laugh. "Never lost me," he said. "'m not good at emotions," he started, looking down at you briefly. "Never was, never will be. I want to try, though, try and make sure you never feel like that again," he spoke into the side of your head, pressing his lips against your head.

You swallowed thickly.

"Thought I lost everything," you whispered into his neck, closing your eyes.

You glanced at your new squad, looking them over.

"If you don't want to be led by an Omega, leave. Get out, I don't want to see your face," you said, glancing amongst them. "If you don't like that I'm leading you, get the hell out. I don't want to see you, if you're going to cause problems, get out," you said.

No one moved, looking down at their boots and away from you. Nobody said anything, it all remained quiet. You smiled, arms crossed as you watched them stand still.

You crossed your arms, glancing amongst them. "The only problem I've ever encountered is you guys not understanding what it means to be a soldier. Combat medic, combat comes first," you told them. "Which means you're a soldier first,"

You sighed deeply, rubbing the migraine out of your temples. They were the worst group you'd ever had. They seemed to not have any knowledge on anything medical, and even less knowledge about combat awareness.

"Bad day?" Simon asked, placing a tray of food in front of you and putting his own on the side of your desk closest to him. You groaned at him, dropping your head down.

You glanced up, watching him pull the mask off of his face and place it next to his food, scooping some of it into his mouth. You snorted softly, watching him.

His brows raised in questioning. "We went from me absolutely despising you just a few days ago to you eating in my office," you laughed softly. "Anyways, I have the worst squad ever," you groaned and he paused his eating.

"They saying things?" He said, moving to stand and you hushed him, hands gesturing for him to sit back down.

In the few days since you two had been cleared back to work, he had made it a habit to bring you at least two meals during your shift. Usually lunch and dinner, which he had at the same time as you, quite thankfully.

You'd grown to begin telling him tales of what happened, whatever drama you could find that happened throughout the day. Oh my god, Simon, apparently Amanda now has an Alpha? And he works on another force, I think something air, you told him the first night.

Surprisingly, he was really interested in what was happening around base. Today, though, he appeared a little more out of it. He seemed slightly off, watching you closer and staring down Alphas who walked by you when he just so happened to be near.

It was weird, but you hadn't put too much thought into it. You were finally back to a normal, something the two of you were putting together. Maybe it was just his new normal, but you weren't going to ask questions.

He stayed quiet, giving you a few murmurs of agreement or interest at all of the new things you'd discovered. Once the two of you finished, instead of sitting with you until you were finished to walk with you back to your room he grabbed your trays and walked out, giving you a short murmur about needing to workout or something.

It left you a little confused, but you weren't going to mention it. You knew this took up a lot of his own time, and you knew that he would want to spend some time on his own to relax.

You felt the same way, but something was off and you could tell. By the time you finished putting away the last paper into its file, it was nearing 10 at night. You walked to your room, bag in hand as you watched the door numbers slowly shrink to your room number.

As you entered it, you'd been expecting to see Simon there, but maybe tonight he just wanted to relax in his own room and take some time to chill out. You understood, and found yourself slowly going through the motions of your nightly routine, some part of you hoping he would walk in right before you finished this part. Then it became this part, then the next.

Eventually, you were curled in your bed, lights all out while listening for movements outside. You found yourself waking up the next morning, groaning as you turned off your alarm clock. Simon never came to your room, but that was okay you told yourself.

It was fine, because everyone needed a moment to themselves here and there. So you began your routine, getting something small to eat as you walked through the clinic, checking on people who had come in overnight to be treated for something.

You ran your training, having the squad work on taking care of those who were harmed and trying to tourniquet them.

"I'm bleeding out, help me! Aaah! It hurts so much, I'm writhing in pain!" Soap was all too pleased to help you with this. Gaz was helping as well, but had stopped his acting to roll on the ground laughing at him. It seemed to work just as well as Johnny's screaming and writhing.

Shutting your eyes tight, you had to hold yourself silent to keep from laughing too hard or distracting everyone. Even as your back was turned, you could hear little squeals coming from Johnny, but as you opened your eyes you saw Ghost watching from a distance.

Gesturing him over, he shook his head and turned back to his own training group, leaning over to shout at someone. You sighed, turning around to watch the group once more.

"Steph, no, that tourniquet is way too tight, I can see it from here. You're cutting the blood flow off, not his leg,"

At lunch you grew a little worried when Simon didn't show up. He had been making sure to bring you food (and letting you watch him eat) every lunch and dinner. Sometimes it was breakfast instead of lunch, but he hadn't come during breakfast.

It took you a few moments before you decided to try and find him, but everyone you spoke to had turned away from you, telling you that it was in your better interest to leave him alone. When you found Gaz again, you pulled him to the side.

"What's up with S- Ghost?" You asked and he looked away, grimacing a little. "Go on, tell me. I'm his mate, it's not like he's doing something that would kill me," you said, brows furrowing as he didn't say anything.

You gestured for him to tell you. "He's been really violent today. Look outside, there's more people running than usual, and his temper is getting the better of him," he whispered, looking around like Simon would jump out of nowhere.

At dinner, when Simon didn't show up you found yourself walking the compound to look for him. To find out where he'd gone, or what was wrong. He wasn't anywhere you'd expected him to be, not the gym or field.

Walking to his room, it was a few halls before when the scent hit you hard. Leather and tobacco, some hints of the gunpowder used on base. You walked a little closer, musky tangs of something just entirely Simon breaking through.

Standing outside of his door, you stared at it. Hearing long groans and whines, huffs of your name. Trying the door, it was locked and everything in the room paused.

A bang on the door made you jump back before leaning in. "Simon?" You whispered, trying the doorknob again. He whined at the sound of his name coming from you, and you could hear nails on the door.

"Please," he whispered back, voice muffled by the door. You could hear another bang on the door and you gave a little laugh.

"Y'gotta unlock the door first, Alpha," a growl came from behind the door.

Next

Tag List:

@sae1kie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon

If I forgot you, please send me a message, reply or ask. I apologize for any mistakes in the Tag List, I'm trying to get it all organized.

#angst #hurt/comfort #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #modern warfare ii #task force 141 #ghost mw2 #no use of y/n #simon riley #call of duty #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #teasing #pet-names #dropping the L word #Maple Syrup

[thegnomelord]

CH 1: With a Spark It Starts Just Like It Ended

CW: NSFW Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, M reader but can be read as GN, Mage reader, Monster 141 AU, reader is described as having thick fucked up arms.

AO3 3.7k words, more of an intro to what's to come lol.

Old man Abdul had lived a good life. A harsh one. But a good one.

He was amongst the first to grab a gun and raise the fight against the Russians, risking life and limb for the freedom of Urzikstan even as members of his pack bled and died to artillery fire and noxious gas. And he alone had survived to see his country set free of tyranny and chose to stay in the military long after his hair had greyed.

And how was he rewarded for his service?

With a 'promotion' to guard the basement of a conference hall. They even called it the 'Peace House' as if that made his position grander, though in his humble opinion the only peaceful thing happening within the halls above was the lack of physical violence.

"Hey, did you fall asleep on me old man?" Taim, a bright eyed and gap-toothed human private so young he could've been one of his grandsons, asks as he throws down five playing cards on the floor between them. Royal flush, again.

Old man Abdul's eyes are soft with a glare and he throws down his own cards, already knowing he'd lost. "Go fish." He huffs, leaning back into the chair they'd been able to squirrel away.

It was embarrassing to think that boredom could torture him more than the Russians did, but they were only a few hours into their shift and he was already thinking of biting a bullet. Chances were they'd stay down here long after the diplomats up top finished bickering about who knows what...

"Hey," Taim perks up, and from the few weeks he's known him, Abdul knows the glint in his brown eyes heralds something stupid. "How about whoever loses this round takes a shot from your leg?"

He is proven correct.

"How about I throw you into a minefield so we can match?" Old man Abdul responds, his tail wagging from side to side. His tail looks more at home on a rat than any werewolf, the fur there an accidental casualty of a Russian fire mage's spell that had taken his leg off. The prosthetic leg only fitting on his human body isn't nearly as insulting as the warding totem they'd given him to protect against lethal magic after his leg had gone flying.

Taim gulps and holds his hands up. "There's no need for that sir." He quickly adds, clearing his throat and reaching to the floor to pick up their cards and shuffle them.

Taim's warding totem slips out from beneath his jacket, but it's different from old man Abdul's. Not in appearance, with the same materials every mage will make theirs differently, but in feel. It feels different...wrong.

Eyes narrowing he reaches out and holds the piece of faintly glowing rock between his claws. Heat radiates into his fingers, the magic inside pulsing in a steady even thrum like a machine instead of beating like a heartbeat; like something not quite alive.

Abdul had been in combat long enough to know how good a warding totem is with how his body reacts to it.

The shit one he'd been given barely gets the remaining fur on his tail to bristle.

Taim's makes his skin want to melt off.

"Where did you get this?" Abdul asks, tail curling up as he lets go of the totem with disgust clear on his face. "That rock could probably protect you from L3 mage without cracking, maybe even L4." Call him paranoid, but a private getting a totem to protect him from mages rarer than unicorns doesn't make any sense.

"Oh, that-" The young man clears his throat, the totem laying flat against his chest like an insult to life. "Came from up top a few days ago, guess all those terror attacks spooked command and they want to keep us normal people safe." He realizes his words and quickly adds. "-not that I'm calling you not normal or anything sir, it's just that-"

"-You're squishier than me, yes, I know." Old man Abdul rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair with a huff.

Taim gives a nervous little giggle, scratching at his curly dark hair. "No offence sir. It's just...you know."

"We all look out for our kinfolk first." Old man Abdul sighs, going to wave him off.

His pointy ear twitches and immediately he's jumping to his feet when his sensitive hearing picks up the sound of the elevator mechanism running. No one is supposed to come down at this time, and Abdul already has his rifle raised to point at the elevator doors by the time Taim is able to get to his own feet. The old werewolf doesn't even need to say anything for the young man to stand on opposite side of him, they work together well, both guns aimed at the person revealed by the opening elevator doors.

It's just the janitor.

Taim lets out a small breath and lowers his gun, relaxing as the janitor gives them a small greeting both of them have to strain their ears to hear as a face mask muffles their words.

"That was a bit embarrassing." Taim chuckles weakly, nodding his own greeting and taking a step back so the janitor can push the heavy cart past them. Abdul notes the janitor's hands are thick and large, the veins poking out beneath latex gloves. Murky water sloshes inside the mop bucket, the trash bag filled to the brim and budging.

It's just a janitor.

But like an annoying tick on his ass, something doesn't let old man Abdul relax.

There's a buzz in the back of his mind like the one he'd get when he was being watched, and when he catches sight of the janitor's eyes beneath the wide-brimmed cap that buzzing stops; Instead replaced with a flash sense of wrongness in his bones and the feeling of tar inside his heart and an indescribable scent — like stale beer and burnt grass and deep dark rot — it has his fingers moving to the trigger before the sight of magic melting through latex can make the short trip from his eyes to his brain—

Glowing lines spring into thin air to form magic circles before their eyes.

The warding totems shatter.

'Pop' goes a head.

Both bodies drop to the ground.

"Could have told me there was a dog." Your words scrape against your throat like shards of glass from the disuse, melted latex stretching into long strands as you take off the cleaner gloves and throw them away, your fingers steaming and glowing hot with mana before you hide them away in tactical gloves.

"I-" Taim tries to say but his voice fails him, eyes and mind still blinded by the harsh glare of magical fire.

"Save it." You cut him off, pulling open the lip of the trash bag to dig out your facemask helmet. It's both a full face helmet and a gasmask, scratched up from years of use but still able to protect your head while keeping you anonymous. A shame it can't filter out the stench of burnt flesh, but you've gotten used to it.

Taim's vision clears and the moment his eyes settle on the charred remains of Abdul's head— the hollowed out skull where concentrated flame had burned a hole straight through everything in it's path, the flesh and bone charred black —he's scrambling away as fast as his feet can push him, the shattered remains of your warding totem crumbling beneath his fingers. Bile rises in his throat and he coughs when he breaths in, but his stomach is thankfully empty so he ends up dry heaving.

"On your feet." Your words are hard to understand under your gasmask, but you don't need to raise your voice. The tone you use has him scrambling to his feet in seconds.

"I- I- yes sir!" Taim manages to stutter out, doesn't even have to fake his fear as he stands at attention. He watches you reach into the dirty water to pull out a Handheld Personal Computer and shake off the residual droplets to ensure it still works before putting it in your pocket.

"When is the next check in?" You ask, reaching further into the trash bag to grasp the handhold on the heavy gas canister hidden beneath office trash. You pull it out without much effort, setting it carefully on the ground so you can recheck that the release valve is intact.

"20 minutes sir." Taim responds and he doesn't need to know Arabic to know what's inside the canister when a grinning skull is printed on the metal.

You let out a low sound, and Taim tries not to peer too closely at you. Sometimes he wonders what face a person who burns people alive without a single second of hesitation could have, but then you look at him and he sees that unnatural glow of mana in your eyes behind the darkened lenses of the helmet and he's glad he's met with the emotionless visage of the mask rather than the one beneath it.

"You have 10 to get out before Hell opens up." You say, standing back up and picking up the canister without complaint. "Use the emergency tunnels, don't spook the VIPs."

Taim is human, not sensitive to magic like the monsters are, but even he can feel the latent mana in your veins that strengthens your body. Like maggots at the back of his skull. It makes a second round of bile rise to his throat. "Yes sir."

You pay close attention to him until he disappears down the corridor before going the opposite way. Alone, it is easier to calm the lingering heat in your veins until the eternal engine of mana in your chest fizzles down to embers like a sleeping beast. Can't have your mana mess with sensitive electronics, even if that does leave you exposed on the cams (as if there's anyone alive to watch them)

"Ifrit, status?" The small radio in your ear crackles.

"Moving to the target, encountered and neutralized a wolf." You answer, taking sharp turns as you follow a path you'd memorized beforehand. "No other monsters to report."

You were lucky to run into one down in the bowels of the conference hall instead of at the front gate. Otherwise your espionage mission would have turned into a frontal assault. Not that Khaled would have minded, you were getting paid to send a loud statement after all.

"Good." You don't need to see his face to know he's smirking, your employer wasn't a huge fan of subhumans. "Continue to the objective."

You respond in affirmative, coming to a heavy metal door, locked with a passcode and even a palm scanner; It's all a valiant effort to keep sensitive data safe, but it may as well be cardboard to you. You summon another circle, this time right on the door, biting your tongue. You're not good with 'subtle' but you haven't forgotten what Taurus or Sierra had taught you; first pushing a bit of loose ash magic between the large atoms making up the metal to disrupt the bonds, then a single pulse of fire ignites the volatile ash and has the entire bottom half crumbling into red hot shards.

Molten slag drips down to the floor when you duck down under the remaining half of the door to find yourself in the server room. Steam rises when the cold air meets your hot skin, but you hardly notice as you first head to the ventilation system at the back of the room. It's dark, but you don't bother turning on the lights, the subtle mana in your eyes enough to give you primitive night vision.

"Ifrit to Alpha-Actual, connecting the payload right now." You say, setting the canister down. The ventilation collects the air from the server room to push it through the entire building and then outside, so all you have to do is melt a hole through the exit pipe until it's big enough for the hose on the canister to fit snugly inside.

"And the files?" Khaled's voice sounds in your ear once you're finished.

"Going now." Standing back up you head to the central server. Taking out the HPC you hook it up to the mainframe, watching the screen until it shows 'connection secure'. "I'm connected."

"Copy that." Your eyes scan the cracked screen (which you broke less than a week after getting it), seeing the file transfer start before Khaled even finishes speaking and trying to read and memorize the names of dozens the files but they change too quickly. "File transfer ETA 5 minutes. Sit tight."

Giving confirmation you keep an eye on the doorway. Though you are positioned in such a way that you'd see the shadow of someone coming in before they see you, years of being behind enemy lines and acting as a friendly to your foes has taught you to be careful. Especially when you can't use more than a smidgeon of mana without frying the entire server system.

You are lucky that no-one comes, the remaining guards too busy guarding the diplomats above you to check what's beneath their noses. While waiting you access the public stream to watch the peace talks, setting the sound to the lowest possible setting so you can keep an eye on the diplomats in case you need a change of plan.

"Got the files, you're clear to finish." You're moving before Khaled can finish speaking, leaving the HPC to hang by the cord from the server. "Oh, and remember: Loud."

"You get what you pay for sir." Kneeling down next to the gas canister you check to ensure your gas mask is firmly on and breathing in deeply; It restricts your breathing and makes muscles work harder, but your body is so used to it that it feels like coming back home.

"Letting the gas out now." Even with the gas mask you still hold your breath when you open the valve, the gas hissing as it escapes the canister, the fan right next to you helping push it through the system. You know there's not enough gas to reach the diplomats on the top floor, it's part of the plan, so when the gas pitters out you cast another circle inside the pipe.

The servers around you flicker meekly and crackle with electricity when you use your mana fully; Something intense and suffocating burns behind your sternum for just a second before liquid mana is rushing down your veins into your hands and coming out through the magic circle as copious amounts of ash.

The rotating fan right next to you spews some of your ash right back at you, flooding the server room in magic that has long since accepted your body enough not to hurt you. But even your seasoned stomach feels tight when you breathe in the mixture of ash and toxic gas, the chemicals turning your magic a nasty shade of green, and you make a mental note to change the filter when you're done with the op otherwise the toxified sediment collecting in there will poison you for months.

You can hear the diplomats begin to cough over the livestream in the HPC, but it all feels so distant when you shift and feel cold dog tags press against your burning chest. They're light like a noose around your neck, yet the absence of weight mocks you in a way their owners no longer can.

There's a familiar sting in your bones when your mana reservoir begins dwindling, but it's easy to push through it until the engine in your chest goes into overdrive from the stress the magic puts on your body. You only stop when the burning mana in your veins starts burning small holes in the sleeves of the janitor jacket, revealing bits of your mage marked skin.

Stopping the flow of ash your hands find themselves in your pocket, taking out a lighter. It's one of those old zippo lighters, the exterior is rusted from years of action and numerous initials are scratched into the metal, but somehow it still functions; It's the strange thing about it— the more you use it, the longer it lasts. Stop, and it dies.

"It's a bit like you, firebug."

Absentmindedly you trace the scratched initials in the metal, trying to ignore the hollowness in your chest when the screams beyond the smokescreen of ash start sounding familiar.

"Going dark." You say to them, flicking it open.

One spark is all it takes.

. . .

With Makarov having gone underground like a wanker after his escape from the gulag, Price and Laswell had been stuck with their heads in mountains of paperwork searching for the bastard. Price had known he'd be in for a headache the moment he agreed to let the boys watch a live football game between England and Scotland, but he reasoned they'd all been working hard enough to earn even a small break.

At the very least it gave them all a moment of reprieve from the stress of a possible world war.

It didn't stop Soap from being a bloody muppet.

"Oh fockin' 'ell!" Soap roars and jumps to his feet, growling at the teli where a ref held a red card above her head. "That should've been a yellow! Fock, one more eye and the ref's a right cyclops." He waves obscenities at the teli as if the ref can see them, his tail hitting Gaz every time it wagged.

"Soap!" Gaz groans and stretches one black wing to smack the werewolf over the head with his long flight feathers to stop him blocking the screen.

Though Gaz's wings are hollow, the smack still hurts. "Ow, what's that for?" Soap groans, rubbing the back of his head.

"At least take your defeat with a wee bit of dignity." Gaz smirks, folding his wings.

"Bold assumption he has any." Ghost mutters next to Price, making him chuckle.

“Oh ho! I’ll get me dignity when the bloody ref gets off 'er knees an’ stops blowing the entire game.” Soap turns to playfully snap his teeth at Gaz. "And what's tha-"

The football match cuts out, replaced with a news segment.

"-Oh, what the fock?" Soap grows quiet when the newscaster begins speaking.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you breaking news. As we speak, the conference hall in Al Mazra, where diplomats from over 40 countries had come to discuss peace and trade agreements with the newly reinstated Urzikstan government, burns in the flames of another terrorist attack."

The footage shifts to a drone filming a bird's eye view shot of violent flames spewing from every hole and window to engulf the entire three story building in consuming fire, heavy plumes of smoke rising into the sky like a maw of a hungering beast to spew a storm of ash and cinders down to the ground. The clouds of ash have a sick green undertone to them.

"Shit." Gaz sucks in a breath.

"Mokarov's done hiding." Ghost notes, leaning in to look closely at the screen with narrowed eyes.

"How the fock did we miss this?" Soap asks the question in their minds, turning to look at Price. "This popped up like bloody whack-a-mole."

At that same time Price's phone rings. The dragon quickly fishes it out of his pocket, seeing Laswell's name as the caller ID before he picks it up while the reporter drawls on.

"Price, are you-"

"Yeah, I'm watching the teli." He cuts her off, knowing what she's going to say. Distantly he can hear the same news report sounding on her end.

"Authorities warn citizens to vacate the immediate area as toxic gas has been detected in the air. Military forces are already enroute, but the prospects for the diplomats survival are nonexistent."

Price's draconic eyes focus on the screen when the footage shifts to that inside the conference hall. Two diplomats argue about something Price can't begin to try and untangle, his focus on one man near the back who begins coughing. More follow suit, and even over the screen Price can tell the signs of toxic gas inhalation by the way more diplomats begin wheezing and coughing wetly.

"This isn't the Russians." Kate says after Price has put her on speaker.

"How come? Looks like some terrorist shite Makarov would pull." Johnny says, his tail curled up and the tip wagging occasionally as he pays attention to the screen.

Seconds later plumes of blackish-green smog erupt from the vents above the diplomats, spewing out with such force it knocks the the camera and the man behind it down to the ground. Ash Magic, Price realizes when he sees smoldering cinders drift almost peacefully in the all consuming fog. Seconds later something causes a spark and the volatile ash magic explodes.

"Ash mage." Ghost grunts, "Just great."

"Makarov doesn't use mages." Price says, scratching his beard.

"No, but Al-Asad does." Kate's voice drifts through the silent room as they watch several APC's arrive on the scene, armored soldiers exiting. But without any monsters who can stomach the heat like Price and with the fog of ash so thick it could be cut with a knife, the best they can do is secure the perimeter. "The CIA intercepted his broadcast before it went public, this is just the start."

Gaz hops off the couch, crossing the small distance to tap one claw at the screen. "What is that?" He asks. Seemingly hearing him, the drone camera focuses on where the main entrance of the building had been.

A dark silhouette of a person can be seen in the flames, growing darker and more refined until finally a featureless helmet emerges from the flames, a deep glow emanating from behind the lenses. It's followed by a body, clothes burnt away in some parts but the flesh beneath unharmed. Price can tell immediately it's a mage by the state of the arms — even from far away it's easy to tell the mage marks, the skin turned rough and dark like cooled magma, veins brimming with volatile mana.

Before the soldiers can fire a single bullet you lift one hand up, the dark mage marks turning to bright like fresh lava when mana flows from your chest to your fingers. A magic circle etches itself into the ground in an instant, so large the surrounding buildings fall into it's perimeter.

And with a second motion of your hand everything erupts into an all consuming cloud of ash.

Laswell's voice rings out. "That's Khaled's new attack dog."

Price and Ghost share a look, both know what will happen long before some nervous soldier caught in the ash cloud pulls the trigger. The cloud of ash explodes the second a spark is created in a weapon's chamber, plunging everything into chaos.

Great, a new wanker to worry about.

Price sighs, brows furrowing. "That's trouble all right."

Tag list: @resident-cryptid @diejager @lovingtyrantkitten @lieutnt

Masterlist <- Chapter 1 (you are here) -> Chapter 2

You can imagine the helmet however you want, but it's in the style of the Devtac Ronin helmet.

#centerpieces of the hoard #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #captain john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #fanfiction #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod x male reader #cod x reader #monster 141 au #monster cod au #not betaed #next chapter coming soon

[gauloiseblue]

If I were a good man / I'd understand the spaces between friends

(König × Reader)

I'm a sucker for a childhood friend AU, but combined with the obsessed, loyal dog AU? I'm gone. I'm further than gone.

Words: 4.7k

König isn't the type of man who believes in superstitions, but he'll never buy you shoes.

It's something that's been engraved in him, since he saw his mother leave the house, with the shoes he bought for her. She only looked over her shoulder once, watching him with tears before she turned away, and never came back.

His father was an angry man, and all he did when he went to an empty home was to blame him.

The scars that his father left on his body weren't as painful as the wound that his mother left in his heart. She abandoned him. Leaving him with an angry man in the house.

Sometimes, when he wasn't busy loathing, and resenting his mother, he brood over the choices that she made. Why she abandoned him. Why she didn't take him with her.

Yet what came was an echo, and he found himself biting his lip until it bled.

He carried his feelings around, to the point that it's clear for anyone to see. People began to avoid him, though some of them would tease him for the things he didn't have.

And all of them would end up with a broken bone.

He was trouble. He was hideous, inhuman, and it's only natural for people to look away from him.

That was, until he met you.

It was horrible for both of you, since you both were like oil and water. But you had no choice, since the teacher assigned you as a volunteer to help him with his grade.

He didn't hide his vexation when you tutored him, and he knew you're holding back your irritation inside. It was hell, but it was him who fed the fire. You were patient, but you had your limit. He knew it'd come to an end someday, but it came not in the way he expected.

It was the fifth day of your lesson, and the day you resigned as a volunteer. He couldn't remember exactly what he said, but it made you snap as you slam your fist on the table.

"I'm sorry that you have a shitty life and sorry your mother left you, but have you ever been kind to your mother when she's still around?"

He snapped back at her, telling her it's none of her business, but when she left him, something clicked in him.

Have you ever been kind to your mother?

Just like the wind, she swept away the mess, letting him see what's underneath. It's not always an echo, it's not always a wall, he just needed to take a step back and see.

It was disorienting, as if he had learnt something forbidden—something that's only reserved for the watcher in the sky. But he did, and it's all because of her.

Have you ever been kind to your mother?

Have you ever been kind to the one who held your hand?

You held his hand, you pulled him from the dark place, and all he did was to make you leave. Just like what he did to his mother.

Several days after the fight, he came to you with a silence that's strange. You thought he was possessed when he muttered out the word sorry.

"I'm sorry." He mused as he kept his face turned from you.

You heard your friends gasping, while you tried to make sense of the situation.

"Sorry?"

"Should I get on my knees when I apologize?"

"No—" Your eyes widened when he hunched down, "Of course not! Let's uh, let's talk somewhere else. You and I."

You pushed him out of the crowd, and into the empty room. In the space full of unfinished art, he confessed his mistakes, and all the things that he did wrong to you. You gaped at him when he bowed down, with a honesty that you didn't know existed.

He was given a second chance when you accepted his apology, and he saw it as a way of repentance.

The two of you became friends, despite of the strange dynamics that you both shared. Your friends teased you when he's around, saying that he's more of a guard dog than a friend. You'd explain in fluster that it's not true, that he just wasn't used to having someone around, but he didn't deny it. He did follow you around after all.

When you helped him with his study, he quickly found that he's weak academically—except for history. He didn't know what drew him into the topic, but he's always fascinated by great events, including war.

Perhaps that's the reason why he joined the military.

When he told you about his plan, you were quiet as you listened.

"I'm glad you've found your way," You commented, "You'll certainly fit in in no time."

He looked at you, as he sensed a continuation.

"But…" You sighed, as you rubbed your neck, "I just… don't want you to get hurt. You've suffered enough, and I don't want you to go through it again." You shook your head, before giving him a smile, "But it's your future, I don't have a say in this."

The silence filled the room as you looked away, and he kept his eyes on you, before he reached out to touch your hand. "It's the only thing I knew I'd do it right. I don't have any talent, and I don't live a normal life, so," He squeezed your hand, "It's the only way for me."

You pressed your lips into a thin line, as you didn't say anything further.

The night he's leaving for the army, he walked aimlessly, before his feet carried him to your home.

Your window was closed, and the lights were dimmed. You might’ve been sleeping, but he wanted to see you for the last time. He picked up a pebble by his boot, and threw it to your window. Carefully, as to not break the glass.

That was the only time he's been the softest. In his hand, everything breaks. But that night, the window didn't shatter.

You peeked through the curtain, before you pushed it open upon seeing his face. You stare at him, dumbfounded, as you asked him the obvious question.

"What are you doing here?" You hissed.

"I wanted to see you." He replied.

"It's late, my parents will kill you if they see you here."

"Won't be a problem."

You were ready to scold him, before he suddenly jumped, and grabbed on your window railings. You closed your mouth as you watched him climb, before he landed on your floor.

"You're crazy."

"I've heard it a million times."

"No, you're really crazy. You're insane, mad, not—"

"—right in the head?" He grinned, "Call me something else."

You let out a long sigh, as you pressed your hand against your forehead.

"Alright." You huffed, "Why are you here? Are you trying to scare me before you leave?"

"I told you I wanted to see you."

"And why did you want to see me?" You tilted your head, "Is this a goodbye?"

"No." He replied as he leaned against your window, "I wanted to say thank you."

You raised your brow when he said it.

"I'd still be in the dark if I never met you." He told you with ease, as if it wasn't a confession of the heart, "Thank you. I mean it."

He didn't say anything, as the words sinked into you. Your face softened, as the tension melted away from your body. He was surprised when you pulled him into a hug, but didn't utter any complaint.

"I'm happy for you." You murmured against his chest, "Write me a letter, okay?"

He said yes to a promise he never fulfilled.

It's not that he didn't want to write to her, he just thought that it's never good enough. He wasn't good at talking, moreover retelling his day in a letter.

It didn't mean he carried no guilt in his heart. It was a promise, something that he should've kept after all. But his days were terrible, he was terrible.

He couldn't pass the sniper's test, he made several mistakes in the missions, and he couldn't make any friends. It was when he's away from you that he began to appreciate your company. You put him at ease, and he never felt the need to hide himself. He could say what he wanted, and you'd just scold him if it's wrong, but you didn't leave him. You didn't treat him like a plague.

Sometimes when he felt weary, he'd imagine you beside him, telling him about your day instead. He wondered what you're doing, and how you're feeling that day. He wondered if you're reading a new book, or you're getting ready to sleep. It comforted him when he kept the phantom of you by himself.

He didn't count the day, and he just let it pass. One or two times, he thought of you when it's holiday. He wanted to go back, but he didn't have home anymore. He left it the day he went to the military, never to return.

He always hoped you'd send a letter to him, telling him about your thoughts, even the most insignificant. He wanted to hear from you, just so he knew you're still thinking of him.

Unfortunately for him, he heard about you from other people.

He was on a rescue mission when he met his former classmate, the one he broke his nose in a fight. He spoke to him like a friend, and treated the incident as something that's in the past. He told him about the school, and the update about their classmates.

That's when he found out about your relationship.

He didn't hear the rest of it, as his ears were ringing. He knew you weren't his, but he couldn't help but feel betrayed. Was that the reason why you never wrote to him? Because you're too busy with your boyfriend?

That day, he almost failed the ops because he went on a rampage.

It was supposed to be a quiet mission. Secure the site, and escort the hostages out. But he rammed through the door, and killed everyone on sight. Though he didn't harm the hostages. He received a penalty from his General, and he's never again received a delicate mission.

But he's a strong man, he could easily take down the whole squad if he's angry enough. His anger was just like his father's, violent, and combustible, and it was a boon in volatile battlegrounds.

It earned him a higher rank faster than his peers. Since he was efficient, despite of him destroying everything in his wake.

Years went by, and he began to forget about his hometown. Until one letter arrived, informing him about the death of his father.

It had been foreseen, since the amount of alcohol he consumed could rival the sailor's.

He didn't want to go back, but he had to tie up loose ends if he wanted to be completely free from his father.

His hometown was still the same, except for a few stores that had closed, and a few of the new ones. His house didn't undergo any change, it's still messy, with bottles and bottles scattering around the floor.

His father died on the sofa in the living room, and he could still see him there, sitting down, drinking himself to death. There's no longer an angry man in the house, but his rage still lingered in the room. As if refusing to pass.

They said when you're worn out, you'd seek comfort just as you seek fire in the winter. So when he walked out of the house, aimlessly and unthinking, he found himself striding to your house, unconsciously.

He's never a lucky man, but that day, the Goddess smiled at him. You were just about to leave when you saw him by the gate. He saw your frowned, before your eyes lit up as you recognized him.

"I told you to write me letters, you bastard."

He opened his mouth to answer, but you already pulled him into a hug, interrupting him from replying.

"Welcome back." You told him as you squeezed his arms.

Since then, he has spent more time with you more often. Whether by talking, or enjoying each other's company. She helped him with the paperwork, as he was busy with his father's burial. When it's all over, he told her his desire to sell the house.

You opposed it at first, before he explained that he's planning to move his home. His house was old, and there's several new apartments around. He was alone, and he wouldn't stay for long, so a little room would be enough for him.

He ended up buying a smaller house, for you he was convinced that he'd find the use for it someday. And he did, he did find it when he looked at you.

But he was afraid. Afraid that you'd reject him despite of your current status. You weren't dating anyone at that time, and it should be easy for him to enter your life. Yet all he offered, was for you to use the house.

"I'll be gone for months, so I need someone to take care of the house." He said, "Why don't you live there? It's closer to your college, isn't it?"

It was a good offer, but you refused it politely. Saying that it's not necessary, that you didn't need that. The next morning, he went back to the base, feeling dejected, wondering if he should've been braver.

This time, he kept his promise. He wrote letters to her, although it'd take about 3 months before he could write more than five sentences. Sometimes they'd talk through phones, and he'd listen to your rambles about your day. When he talked, he mostly told her about his job. He was cocky about it, but you pulled him down to the ground somehow. He didn't realize it, until all of his teammates pointed it out to him.

He didn't come back at Christmas, and he spent his time lounging around the empty base. You were busy that day, but you made time to call him in the evening. It was short, but it was the nicest thing someone ever did to him. And when you hung up, he stared at the phone for minutes, wondering if he should've just gone home instead.

When you graduated from college, he took his day off to attend the ceremony. You were surprised, but glad nonetheless. Your family was present as well, and they shot him funny looks every time you talked to him. It wasn't until your father leaned in to talk, that he found out the reason for it.

If he said that he should stay away from you, he'd believe it. But the way he spoke, and—Lord help him—implied that you're interested in him almost sounded like a ruse. He stared at your old man as if he's gone mad, but when he turned his head towards you, his heart was burning. How easy was it, to be consumed by greed upon hearing a just few words.

He wanted it to be true, he desperately wished it to be true. But once again, he left with his feelings kept.

He wanted to rip his hair off, as he screamed into the pillow. You liked him, didn't you? Wouldn't it be easier for him to ask you? To have you by his side?

In that moment, he swore to himself that he'd do it the next time you both met. Because he wouldn't forgive himself if someone else took you before him. So he swallowed his pride, and asked for advice.

He expected his teammate to laugh at him, but to his surprise, they were very eager to give him one. Though most of them strayed from the topic.

When he first flirted with you, his hands were cold, and if they were talking face to face, she'd be able to see how much of a mess he was. Even when you noticed the tremble in his voice, you didn't say anything. He only did it for a week, before he settled with calling you Schnecke.

It wasn't until he was listed for a long mission, that you called him for a question.

"Hey." He could hear the uncertainty in your voice when you muttered, "Does the offer still stand?"

He almost asked her for it, before the realization struck him.

It was about his house.

His body turned stiff, as he felt the warmth in his loins. He was silent, and you began to think that it was a bad idea.

"Forget it, you don't have to ans—"

"Yes." He breathed out, "Yes, it still stands."

From that day on, you began to live in his house. He had to send the key via mail, which arrived three days later, according to the letter you wrote for him.

It felt… strange, pleasantly strange, knowing that you lived under his roof, filling his house with your things. He'd feel his skin heated up, as he pictured you on his bed, sleeping. At night, he dreamt of you in the house. Just you and him, doing a mundane routine, and even in the middle of the battlefield, he still couldn't get the image out of his mind. But why should he? It was everything that he ever dreamt of.

When the long mission came to an end, he visited his commander's office to request a month off. His boss was perplexed, but it was soon granted, in exchange for his contribution in a Tier 2 mission.

It was past midnight, when he arrived at home. You must've been startled when he knocked on the door, since you opened it with the latch still intact.

You helped him with his things as he stepped inside, admiring how warm his house became. There were traces of you in the living room—an empty mug, a soft blanket, and several files that you worked on before you slept. You sheepishly told him sorry as you tidied them up, but he stopped you, telling you it's okay.

"It's already late, let's just sleep."

"Go on then, I'll sleep on the sofa."

"What are you saying?" He retorted, "Take the bed. I'm not letting you sleep here."

"I can't. This is your house."

"I don't care."

"I care." You frowned.

"Schnecke." He said with a sigh, "It's either me on the sofa, or we share the bed."

He didn't mean to say it, but the words slipped out of his mouth so easily, before he fully realized it. Your mouth hung open, and all of your protests died down in your throat. He'd be horrified of it, if it's not for a burst of confidence, and a portion of sleep-deprived that made him a bit braver.

"The bed is big enough for both of us." He added.

You were hesitant at first, but you agreed on it later on.

That night, he woke up to find the side of the bed empty. Panic rose from his chest, before he sucked up a breath to calm down. He stepped out of the bedroom, and into the living room.

He found you curling on the sofa, with the warm blanket around you. He let out a sigh of relief, before silently cursed at your little escape. He scooped you into his arms, as he carried you to the bedroom.

He could see your reluctance to share the bed with him, and he understood it. He's a man, and it'd be strange for you to sleep with him on the same bed. But still, it affected him in the way he's afraid of.

You apologized to him the next morning, when he climbed up to the bar stool to watch you cook.

"I didn't know you moved me to the bed. I'm sorry, it should've been uncomfortable for you."

"It's fine." He said as he stretched, which made his joints pop, "I've had worse."

"Still, it doesn't mean you can sleep on the sofa forever."

"I don't want you to sleep on the sofa either."

"Ugh." You groaned as you placed the breakfast in front of him, "If only we could afford another bed."

"We?"

You stopped on track, as he tilted his head.

"Th—" You faltered, "That's because it's our problem now. You don't want me to sleep on the sofa, and I don't want you to sleep there too. We're running in circles."

He let her have a moment, before he said, "We've figured out the solution, haven't we?"

You almost dropped your plate after hearing him speak, he observed you as your face turned red. "You must understand, I can't sleep with you on the same bed. That'd be… improper. And no, I won't let you sleep on the sofa either."

He watched you as you paced back and forth on the kitchen floor.

"Fine, we can sleep on the same bed. But we won't share the same blanket, alright?"

With that, the new rule had been set. You'd sleep on the left side, while he took the side near the wall. He used the fleece blanket, and you cocooned inside the thick bedcover. Outside the bedroom, he's the one who (begrudgingly) cleaned the house, while you took care of the food. They went to the grocery store twice a week, and they'd split the bills into two.

He quickly fell into the routine as he found the comfort of it. He enjoyed the domesticity of it, something that he never knew would fit him. Whenever they went out, he'd keep himself neutral while secretly reveled in the attention that people gave to them. He'd hold your bag, and open the door for you. He might’ve not realized it, but those gestures pushed their relationship into a strange territory—where you harbored a conflicted feeling, while he stayed blind to your frown.

Alas, everything had to come to an end. When it was time to go, he stood at the door as he teased you by asking where's his kiss. Your face turned red, and he chuckled when you stammered. He didn't expect anything out of it, but when you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, he found himself at loss at words.

Back at the base, everyone stared at him for wearing his sniper hood. But he'd rather people asking him about the mask, than the cause behind his flushed face.

As he promised, he was transferred to a new team for a difficult mission. It was a secret ops, consisting of retrieving an important document from a small terrorist group, and finding the leader's whereabouts. They've reviewed the plans several times, before they put their gears on.

When they breached the base, he was the one in the front line, with a technician beside him. They knew there'd be traps and bombs, and it should've been the technician's job to detect and disarm them. But when he barged into the main office, they missed a little bomb at the corner of the room.

He was the first to shout, and the one who took the damage. When the explosive was triggered, it went off with a deafening boom, sending shrapnels into the air.

They fulfilled the objectives, but they didn't minimize the casualties. While there's zero count in death, he and three other members suffered quite injuries.

When the doctor came, he knew he would deliver bad news. He cleared his throat, before telling him about the wounds on his face. It's quite possible that he'd suffer permanent scarring, from all the shrapnels that was dug into his skin.

He didn't know what to feel about it, except for the fact that you'd see him differently.

When he came home a half year later, his gut churned when you stared at him with wide eyes. He almost turned back, if not for your hand that reached out to him, while you softly spoke.

"What happened?" You mused, "Does it still hurt?"

He was quiet when you touched him, subtly shaking his head to reassure you.

"Oh…" You frowned as you traced the jagged scars on his cheek, "It must've been hurt."

It didn't hurt as much as he thought it'd be, but the way you looked at him that moment made him silent. He wondered if he denied it, he would end up with less amount of care.

You bought him an ointment the next day, and you told him to sit down as you put it on his skin. He told you it was unnecessary since he's healed, but you said it was for the scars.

He was moved, but troubled at the same time. The thing that you'd do and the length that you went through for him, it was… endearing, to say the least. But when you touched his face, you'd wince at the roughness of the new skin.

One night, when you spread the cream on his cheek, he asked,

"Do I look so hideous with the scars, that you want them gone?"

You stopped at your track, before you stared at him. "I don't think I understand what you're saying."

"You brought me ointment just to make them gone."

"You thought I was disgusted by them?"

He didn't answer.

"Look," You shook your head as you sighed, "I'm sorry if I offended you in any way, but whatever you thought about me is wrong. I—" You bit your lip, almost wanting to stop yourself from talking, "I just, I want to do something… for you. That's the least thing I could do."

He watched you look away, with a red flush creeped up across your face.

"Why?" He asked.

"Why?" You snorted, "Well, I don't know. I'm not gonna answer that."

"Do you like me, (name)?"

This time around, you were the one who stared at him.

"What are you saying—"

"Do you like me?" He repeated.

He left you speechless, tongue-tied for the question.

"(Name)."

You didn't flinch when he touched your cheek. For whatever reason, your head turned to him instead. While your eyes searched into his.

At that moment, he forgot about his doubts and went forward to kiss you. Something that he wished he'd done years before, in your bedroom, where he said his first goodbye.

You moaned against his lips, and he growled as he pulled your body into his arms. You didn't resist him, as his hand slid under your garment.

The next morning, he woke up to you on top of him, sleeping soundly, as you quietly snored against his chest. He'd thought he's still asleep, if not for the warmth of your skin against his. When he stood up, his head throbbed, as if he had a bottle of wine last night. While he wasn't drunk, he surely felt like he did.

For a moment, he couldn't remember anything, before the memories hit him all at once. The taste of your sweat, your sweet moan, and a shudder of bliss when he first came. It all came down to him like cold water.

He wasn't an innocent man, he wanted you from the start, but he knew that, once he had walked down the path, he'd have no way to return. The rage that he felt when you weren't his, and the impulse he had when you looked at him through your lashes, they were untamed. It was out of his control, and he's afraid that he'd hurt you with his obsessiveness.

But he couldn't help it. That's just his nature.

When you woke up, you found him on the side of the bed, staring at you. And you smiled at him, so sweetly, that he wished to lock it away from anyone's eye.

And when you kissed him that morning, he felt the exhilaration and the dread of free fall. Where he'd feel the sense of freedom before the gravity pulled him toward a grave. A grave that's reserved only for him.

At that moment, he knew he had to die before you. Because he wouldn't know what to do with himself when you left first.

König doesn't believe in an old wives' tale, but he'll take away your shoes if that means he'll keep you forever.

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #konig x reader #konig cod #man. i wrote about him again #I don't even like him that much. but he has so much potential ughhhhh #anyway. it's not beta read so read at your own risk lmao #and yea. konig has a mommy issue #and daddy issues #and everything issues