#now how do i price shi

[callilouv]

ayo.... AYOYOAYOAYASSYGIOUIYGJW I CAN ACTUALLY TAKE COMMISSIONS NOW

#ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ idle chit chat #i can actually make cha ching cha chings off of my art now #now how do i price shi

[gothhabiba]

🍉🇵🇸 eSims for Gaza masterpost 🇵🇸🍉

Which eSims are currently being called for?

Connecting Humanity is calling for:

Nomad (“regional Middle East” plan): code NOMEXPLORE15 for 10GB + (valid through 31 May)

Simly (“Palestine” and "Middle East" plans)

Mogo (“Israel” plan)

Gaza Online is calling for:

Holafly (“Israel” and “Egypt” plans): code HOLACNG

Nomad (“regional Middle East” plan): code NOMADCNG (can now be used multiple times from the same email)

Airalo (“Middle East and North Africa” plan)

Sparks (“Israel” plan)

Numero (“Egypt” plan)

For Connecting Humanity: if you sent an eSim more than two weeks ago and it is still valid and not yet activated, reply to the email in which you originally sent the eSim. To determine whether the eSim is still valid, scan the QR code with a smartphone; tap the yellow button that reads “Cellular plan”; when a screen comes up reading “Activate eSIM,” click the button that says “Continue.” If a message comes up reading “eSIM Cannot Be Added: This code is no longer valid. Contact your carrier for more information,” the eSim is activated, expired, or had an error in installation, and should not be sent. It is very important not to re-send invalid eSims, since people may walk several kilometers to access wifi to connect their eSims only to find out that they cannot be activated.

If a screen appears reading “Activate eSIM: An eSIM is ready to be activated” with a button asking you to “Continue,” do not click “Continue” to activate the eSim on your phone; exit out of the screen and reply to the email containing that QR code.

Be sure you're looking at the original post, as this will be continually updated. Any new instructions about replying to emails for specific types of unactivated plans will also appear here.

Check the notes of blackpearlblasts's eSim post, as well as fairuzfan's 'esim' tag, for referral and discount codes.

How do I purchase an eSim?

If you cannot download an app or manage an eSim yourself, send funds to Crips for eSims for Gaza (Visa; Mastercard; Paypal; AmEx; Canadian e-transfer), or to me (venmo @gothhabiba; paypal.me/Najia; cash app $NajiaK, with note “esims” or similar; check the notes of this post for updates on what I've purchased.)

You can purchase an eSim yourself using a mobile phone app, or on a desktop computer (with the exception of Simly, which does not have a desktop site). See this screenreader-accessible guide to purchasing an eSim through each of the five services that the Connecting Humanity team is calling for (Simly, Nomad, Mogo, Holafly, and Airalo).

Send a screenshot of the plan's QR code to [email protected]. Be sure to include the app used, the word "esim," the type of plan (when an app has more than one, aka "regional Middle East" versus "Palestine"), and the amount of data or time on the plan, in the subject line or body of your email.

Message me if you have any questions or if you need help purchasing an eSim through one of these apps.

If you’re going to be purchasing many eSims at once, see Jane Shi’s list of tips.

Which app should I use?

Try to buy an eSim from one of the apps that the team is currently calling for (see above).

If the team is calling for multiple apps:

Nomad is best in terms of data price, app navigability, and ability to top up when they are near expiry; but eSims must be stayed on top of, as you cannot top them up once the data has completely run out. Go into the app settings and make sure your "data usage" notifcations are turned on.

Simly Middle East plans cannot be topped up; Simly Palestine ones can. Unlike with Nomad, data can be topped up once it has completely run out.

Holafly has the most expensive data, and top-ups don't seem to work.

Mogo has the worst user interface in my opinion. It is difficult or impossible to see plan activation and usage.

How much data should I purchase?

Mirna el-Helbawi has been told that large families may all rely on the same plan for data (by setting up a hotspot). Some recipients of eSim plans may also be using them to upload video.

For those reasons I would recommend getting the largest plan you can afford for plans which cannot be topped up: namely, Simly "Middle East" plans, and Holafly plans (they say you can top them up, but I haven't heard of anyone who has gotten it to work yet).

For all other plans, get a relatively small amount of data (1-3 GB, a 3-day plan, etc.), and top up the plan with more data once it is activated. Go into the app’s settings and make sure low-data notifications are on, because a 1-GB eSIM can expire very quickly.

Is there anything else I need to do?

Check back regularly to see if the plan has been activated. Once it's been activated, check once a day to see if data is still being used, and how close the eSim is to running out of data or to expiring; make sure your notifications are on.

If the eSim hasn't been activated after three weeks or so, reply to the original email that you sent to Gaza eSims containing the QR code for that plan.

If you purchased the eSim through an app which has a policy of starting the countdown to auto-expiry a certain amount of time after the purchase of the eSim, rather than only upon activation (Nomad does this), then also reply to your original e-mail once you're within a few days of this date. If you're within 12 hours of that date, contact customer service and ask for a credit (not a refund) and use it to purchase and send another eSim.

How can I tell if my plan has been activated? How do I top up a plan?

The Connecting Humanity team recommends keeping your eSims topped up once they have been activated.

See this guide on how to tell if your plan has been activated, how to top up plans, and (for Nomad) how to tell when the auto-expiry will start. Keep topping up the eSim for as long as the data usage keeps ticking up. This keeps a person or family connected for longer, without the Connecting Humanity team having to go through another process of installing a new eSim.

If the data usage hasn't changed in a week or so, allow the plan to expire and purchase another one.

What if I can't afford a larger plan, or don't have time or money to keep topping up an eSim?

I have set up a pool of funds out of which to buy and top up eSims, which you can contribute to by sending funds to my venmo (@gothhabiba), PayPal (paypal.me/Najia), or cash app ($NajiaK) (with note “esims” or similar). Check the notes of this post for updates on what I've purchased, which plans are active, and how much data they've used.

Crips for eSims for Gaza also has a donation pool to purchase eSims and top them up.

Gaza Online (run by alumni of Gaza Sky Geeks) accepts monetary donations to purchase eSims as needed.

What if my eSim has not been activated, even after I replied to my email?

Make sure that the QR code you sent was a clear screenshot, and not a photo of a screen; and that you didn’t install the eSim on your own phone by scanning the QR code or clicking “install automatically."

Possible reasons for an eSim not having been activated include: it was given to a journalist as a back-up in case the plan they had activated expired or ran out of data; there was an error during installation or activation and the eSim could no longer be used; the eSim was installed, but not activated, and then Israeli bombings destroyed the phone, or forced someone to leave it behind.

An eSim that was sent but couldn’t be used is still part of an important effort and learning curve. Errors in installation, for example, are happening less often than they were in the beginning of the project.

Why should I purchase an eSim? Is there any proof that they work?

Israel is imposing near-constant communications blackouts on Gaza. The majority of the news that you are seeing come from Gaza is coming from people who are connected via eSim.

eSims also connect people to news. People are able to videochat with their family for the first time in months, to learn that their family members are still alive, to see their newborn children for the first time, and more, thanks to eSims.

Some of this sharing of news saves lives, as people have been able to flee or avoid areas under bombardment, or learn that they are on evacuation lists.

Why are different plans called for at different times?

Different eSims work in different areas of the Gaza Strip (and Egypt, where many refugees currently are). The team tries to keep a stockpile of each type of sim on hand.

Is there anything else I can do to help?

There is an urgent need for more eSims. Print out these posters and place them on bulletin boards, in local businesses, on telephone poles, or wherever people are likely to see them. Print out these foldable brochures to inform people about the initiative and distribute them at protests, cafes and restaurants, &c. Also feel free to make your own brochures using the wording from this post.

The Connecting Humanity team is very busy connecting people to eSims and don't often have time to answer questions. Check a few of Mirna El Helbawi's most recent tweets and see if anyone has commented with any questions that you can answer with the information in this post.

#esims #esims for gaza #palestine #gaza #action

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life. 

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 

Your face gains heat. 

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 

You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 

The man forces a weak huff. 

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #x female reader #call of duty keegan #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan x reader #keegan russ #keegan x you #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ x reader #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts x reader #cod ghosts #cod keegan russ #cod fic #cod fanfic #cod x female reader #x fem!reader

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Surprises

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader

Word count: 800

Warnings: none, fluff :)

Summary: Simon won't be home for Christmas, or will he?

Simon called you, the day before Christmas, Christmas Eve, when he finally got access to his phone, saying he wouldn’t be home. The mission he was on was taking too long and they needed him. You were disappointed, of course, but you shrugged it off. You knew he worked hard. It was okay. 

You laid back with a mug of cocoa in hand, sitting on the couch, plush blanket wrapped around you. You were watching the Grinch, but the Jim Carrey version. You were at peace, cozy, comfortable, and happy. Even if Simon wasn’t there. 

You were halfway through the movie before the doorbell rang. You set down your mug, tossing your blanket onto the couch. You straighten your shirt, heading to the door. This is the first time you don’t look through the peephole. You should’ve. 

You pull the door open.

There he was. 

Full gear. Mask still on. Guns still strapped into their holsters. 

Lieutenant S. Riley sewn on a patch on his black vest. 

On one knee. For you. Velvet small box in his hand. 

Tears sting the corners of your eyes. You can barely hear your own voice, “S-si?”

“Hi lovie,” you can practically hear the smirk on his face. “Know I said I wouldn’ be home…but had somethin’ to do. Practically begged Price to let me go. Big guy understood, I mean, he knows how hard it is to surprise your girl. Had something super important to ask ya’.”

There’s no way this was happening. You couldn’t believe it. 

“‘his wasn’t how I planned i’. Always wan’ed to take you out to a beach or shit an’ sayin’ all that romantic shi’. But ‘ere we are. Couldn’t wait any longer. You’re too beautiful and I wanna be yours foreve’. You’re too kind to me to let anyone else have ya. You’re absolutely perfect, lovie. Absolutely perfect,” you can tell he’s smiling. “You make m’ life so much better. I wanna marry you, lovie. I do. Please. So, will ya? Will ya marry this old sack o’ balls?”

Your mind is clouded. Your eyes filled with so many tears, you can’t even see him anymore. Your hands are clasped against your chest. 

“L-lovie?” Simon panics. He thinks the tears on your cheeks mean no. He gulps. “Say somethin’. Please?”

Before he can get another word out, you throw your arms around him, crashing into him. You wrap your legs around his torso, hands cupping the back of his head. He stumbles, almost dropping the ring. He gets onto both knees now, both hands stroking your back, holding you flush against him. He sighs in relief. 

He stands up, carrying both of you back into the apartment. He shuts the door with his foot, still holding you against him, your legs still wrapped tightly around his waist, head tucked into the crook of his neck. 

When you finally pull away, the tears are still streaming down your cheeks. Simon wipes them away with his free hand, the other still secured around you, holding the ring box. “You’re serious?”

“‘Course, I am, lovie. Spend the rest of your life with me, please,” he practically begs as he lowers you down to the ground.

You tear up again, smile so big it covers half your face. “Of course, I will.” 

He pulls you into his chest, hugging you so tight you think you’ll be crushed. He pulls off his mask and balaclava, kissing your temple, cheek, neck, and any other exposed skin he can find. 

The two of you stand in each other’s embrace for a few more minutes before he finally pulls way, kissing your cheek one last time. He opens the box, a large oval cut diamond staring back at you. He slips the ring onto your finger. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you wipe your tears before more come flooding down. “This is so much. One minute, I’m sitting on my couch watching the Grinch and the next, I’m getting engaged to you?!”

“’S insane, I know, lovie. Bu’ I had to surprise you. Price gave me the okay to leave 4 days ‘go. Didn’t wanna show up ‘till tonight, couldn’t ruin my surprise,” he gives you a cheeky smile before kissing your cheek. “Now, can ya stop cryin’ so I can get a nice pic of me an’ my girl, no, my fiance, to send to the boys?” 

You giggle, wiping your tears as he leads you back to the couch, stripping his gear off on the way. He sits down next to you, pulls out his phone and snaps a selfie of you two before sending it off to the Task Force group chat with the caption ‘My beautiful fiancé.’

(Little photo for reference)

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon riley fluff #proposals #simon #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost #ghost fanart #ghost fanfiction #ghost headcanons

[courtingchaos]

Teeth

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Summary: You and Eddie are freaks. He has a little accident, you have a fun little hobby, and he shows you how he really feels about you’re whole Deal.

Warnings: Teeth. I mention them a lot. Blood, cursing, sex.

A/N: Did I start another blurb series before even publishing the series I was supposed to start last month? Shut the hell up oh my god why are you up my ass about it????

18+ NSFW No Minors

Eddie hooks his chin on your shoulder while you stare at the giant shadow box on the wall.

“Are they all human teeth?”

“Mhm.”

“Isn’t it illegal to own human remains in the US?”

“Well, remains and bones are different categories.”

He knew that would set you off, your phone pulled out for google to fill in your blanks. Eddie laughs at the first result, The Bone Room, and the two of you get a good chuckle out of it for a solid minute.

“Okay so I was wrong, but do you want to own a random set of teeth? What if they’re haunted?” Eddie watches your reflection in the glass front and can’t help but laugh when your eyes go big.

“One could only hope.” You whisper.

“Okay Morticia.” He leaves you to peruse the case of teeth while he wanders over to the weird clown doll corner. This was another little oddities shop you’d found online and asked to go to and he was more than happy to oblige. He also liked weird shit and there was usually a record store close to these kinds of places and of course you needed to find a coffee shop and it would always turn into a fun day date for the two of you.

When he finally gets away from the dolls he finds you at the main counter looking into the glass display while the clerk explains the jewelry inside.

“What’d you find?” He asks, bending directly in half to stare at the tray of rings in front of you.

“More teeth.” You give him an over the top smile that he returns, snapping his jaws at you while the poor woman behind the counter watches your flirting. She tells you prices instead of paying the two of you any mind and you hem and haw while Eddie just takes his wallet out to slide his card across the glass.

“Ed.” You don’t even look up at him when you warn him.

“Which one was it? Is it the big molar? It’s the big molar isn’t it?” He gives the clerk a scoff. “Can you believe this? I take her out here and she thinks I’m not buying her a tooth ring?”

In the cafe you’d found ahead of time you inspect your new ring while he chews on his straw, watching your rub the crown of the tooth.

“You really didn’t have to buy me this.” The barista comes over then with your coffee and a massive croissant. “Or that.”

“What? It’s a sweet treat for my sweet treat.” He tears a piece off and wiggles his eyebrows. “Also a sweet tooth for my sweet tooth.”

“Now you’re pushing it, Munson.”

“You love it.” He pauses when you kick his boot under the table and it turns into a violent round of footsie.

“Can I ask why teeth?”

“I don’t know. I just think they’re neat.” You shrug and fiddle with the ring on your middle finger. “They make a cool sound if you click a handful together. Very satisfying.”

“Yeah?” The smile is evident in his voice, even if you don’t look up to see it. “Sure there’s nothing else?” He goads, waiting for you to look up and narrow your eyes at him.

“And maybe I also want to crunch them like a sugar cube.” You make the exact face he thought you would and it makes him feel a warm coil of familiarity.

“There it is.”

“What?”

“I knew you wanted to do something weird with it.” His laugh turns into a cackle when you discreetly bring your hand up to click the ring against your front teeth.

“Okay so if it’s loose like…No I mean I can see it moving in the socket…ugh god, yeah…alright…” Your tone doesn’t give Eddie any hope and when you scrunch your face up while the dentist office tells you something longwinded, he sighs.

“How much? Oh shi- yeah okay. Thank you though.” You hang up and shoot him a steady look. “Guess.”

“I’m gonna loose it?” Eddie says, bag of frozen green beans held against his cheek.

“No shit.” You set your phone down and make your way to him leaned back on the couch. “You could potentially keep it for a cool $600 though.” Your hand replaces his on the slowly thawing bag and the sharp intake of breath isn’t from the new pressure on his bruise.

“$600 for one tooth?”

“Mhm.”

“Fuck it, I’ll just pull it.” Eddie sighs at the ceiling and closes his eyes. He’d been fucking around, trying to swing his guitar around his shoulders during practice. Had actually managed a few turns but when you’d come to pick him up he wanted to show off. A fast toss over his shoulder and he didn’t see the corner of the body barreling for his cheek.

Your loud gasp and a lot of blood down his front later, he was in pain and slightly humiliated but definitely not out $600.

“Will you help me?” He gently rolls his head your direction, his cheek cradled between veggies and your palm.

“Of course.” You smile sadly at him. “It’s gonna hurt though.”

“Yeah but I like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you slap his chest, t-shirt still stained red.

“Come on, ladykiller.”

In the bathroom he braces his hands on the counter while you try to find the best angle to pull his tooth out at.

“I’m trying to not just have my whole fist in your mouth.”

“That’s hot.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yes ma’am.” Eddie grins at your flat look. You blindly grab the pliers from behind you on the vanity and take a deep breath before holding his mouth open.

“Please don’t bite down.”

“Eye hot yuh yiked hat.” He’s drooling around your hand and trying to be cute. It’s unfortunately working on you.

“Not like this, no.”

He feels the pliers on his tooth, a gentle tug while you rearrange and then you look at him. Eyebrows scrunched and a concerned look in your eyes. “You okay?” He nods. “This is gonna hurt baby, I’m sorry.”

He barely has time to process what you’ve said. He was waiting for a count down but instead you’ve yanked once, swiftly and without remorse. There’s a small clatter where his tooth bounces around in the sink and then he feels the pulse of pain. A new rush of blood floods his mouth and he doubles over the sink to spit and moan.

“You didn’t even warn me!”

“You would have bitched out and you know it.” You rub his back while he pouts and keeps spitting into the sink. When you disappear to get him a glass of water, he rinses out the sink and picks up his tooth to inspect it. “What tooth is this anyways?”

“The tech said she thinks it’s a premolar from what I told her.” You answer as you come back into the cramped bathroom. He pulls his lip back to stare at the dark space between teeth.

“You don’t already know which one it is?”

You just roll your eyes. “She did say it was good that you didn’t crack it, could have been worse.” You shrug and Eddie holds out his hand to you, tooth sitting in the middle of his palm.

“It looks cool.” He says, rolling it around until you pick it up gingerly and inspect it. There’s a little bit of blood stuck in the root but you keep turning it over, running the pad of your finger over the ridges.

“You’re gonna keep it right?”

“Duh.” He laughs. You hand it back to him and help him clean up from his traumatic afternoon.

A couple of aspirin and a hot shower later and he’s ready for bed, just waiting on you to finish in the bathroom. He watches your shadow under the door where light seeps out and runs his tongue for the umpteenth time through the new space in his teeth. He’s not trying to make it worse but it’s a foreign void that he can’t stop fucking with. The bathroom door opens and you’re already staring at him, head cocked to the side. “I can see you tonguing that spot from over here.”

“You’ve got a spot I can tongue.”

You don’t respond, just turn off the lights on your way into the bedroom where you climb over him on the bed. Before you can drop onto your side he grabs your thighs to hold you above him.

“Thanks for not laughing at me.”

“You looked pretty cool, right up until you smashed your mouth.” You brace your hands on his chest and lean in close. “The blood really distracted me.”

“Yeah that was quite a bit.”

“Still hot.”

He grins and you can spot the missing tooth in the dark before he pulls you in by your chin to give you a kiss. When he opens his mouth to deepen it, your tongue immediately finds the new space like his had. He laughs into the kiss and sits up on his elbows to be closer. It’s a slow make out session that he has no intention of taking further, mostly delighting in you running your tongue along the inside of his mouth, probing.

“What are you laughing at?” You ask, annoyed at him huffing into your mouth.

“You keep trying to feel it with your tongue.” He grins at you in the dark, features highlighted by the light seeping in through the curtains.

“It’s a new spot in your mouth for me to tongue.” You mumble and Eddie says something about tonguing your new hole and it devolves into a slap fight that ends with you two sleepily kissing again.

For a few weeks his tooth kicks around the house in a little ring box you had laying around. Jokingly he stuffed a scrap of ribbon in it and called it a coffin, started giving a eulogy to it every night after dinner.

“Craig had the toughest job-“

“I thought he was Neville?”

“I changed it. Craig is a working man’s name.”

“In what country?”

“Coal country.” Eddie jokingly bangs his fist on the table and continues on about Craig and his 52 family members.

Wayne comes by for dinner and sees this little atrocity and just stares at it for a good while, you and Eddie tight lipped trying to not laugh at his blank expression.

“I don’t know what to expect when I come over here, ever.” He’s not judging, in fact he’s almost too accommodating when him and Eddie disappear after dinner for a smoke on the balcony and he gives his nephew pointers on what dremel bit to use so he doesn’t crack the tooth.

“A matching necklace? Christ Eddie don’t tell me you knocked out two teeth!”

“No! I bought the ring for her, this was just a mistake.” Eddie gestures at his mouth and Wayne chuckles at him.

“Always gotta show off.”

“For her? No shit. If I don’t, she’ll realize how much better she can do.”

Wayne tilts his head and fixes Eddie with a stern look. “You know how I feel about that.”

“I’m kidding.” He tries to wave him off.

“Well I’m not. Who else is gonna bring her home a tooth on a chain?” Eddie can see how that makes Wayne shudder, even when he’s trying to be forcefully reassuring. He pats his uncle on the knee before standing and stretching.

“True. There aren’t any many of my kind left.” He says it wistfully, staring off the balcony into the dark until Wayne huffs at him to get inside and help with the dishes.

The bit dies off and the ring box ends up on your nightstand. Eddie thinks it’s a pretty romantic gesture the way you’ve given it a prime spot next to your Dracula figure. He also knows you’ll notice it missing so he takes the tooth when he gets home before you and knocks the box over and when you notice he plays dumb.

“Oh no, did you knock it over?” “No I haven’t been in your nightstand.” “Why would I take it?”

He brings it with him to work and Wayne refuses to touch it, instead standing off to the side and letting Eddie drill the minuscule hole. He texts you on his lunch and tells you he’s got some extra stuff to take care of, running late, don’t worry about dinner. He uses the extra hour to run by the antique store and buy a chain and he gets so lucky because you’re in the shower when he finally comes home.

Ring box stolen from your drawer and left oh so carelessly in the middle of the counter next to your big water cup. He doesn’t even change out of his shop clothes, just sits and waits for you to come out.

When you do, you give him a kiss in passing and then stop short in the kitchen. “Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s this?” You hold up the small red box and gently shake it at him.

“I made you something in art class today.” He says bashfully and leans over the arm of the couch to dangle his arms while you laugh at him.

“Aw, did Mr. Munson help you with your finger painting?” You pout at him and he flips you off. Your laugh cuts off when you open the box to stare at the necklace.

“Is this your tooth?”

“Yeah, I lied.” He grins at you, “I staged the crime scene.”

“You scum.” Your giggle gets him off the couch, the scrunch of your face makes him cradle your jaw, your whispered ‘thank you’ earns you a kiss and before you can fumble with the chain he’s pulling it out of your hands to loop it around your neck. He does the clasp up and smooths a hand down over the tooth.

“Oh you make that look better than I ever did.” His dimples push through his warm smile. “Almost like it was made for you.”

“God you are laying it on thick today huh?”

“I mean it, everything I am is for you.” He holds you close while you fiddle with your new jewelry. It’s so small for such a significant thing, at least to you. Especially when he starts talking like that. Eddie notices your pensive turn and pulls his head back to look down at you.

“Did I…did I read this wrong? Is it too much?” He knows he’s bad at that sometimes. He knows you like this stuff but maybe wearing a familiar tooth is a step too far. Maybe it feels like a weight around your neck instead of a thin rope of silver. It’s his turn to get quiet and he tries to pull away but you latch on around his ribs.

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me and it’s really weird and I love it a lot.” You mumble into his chest where your cheek is pressed tight. “Thank you.”

He watches you the rest of the night playing with it. Twirling your fingers through the chain and rolling the tooth around, staring down at it and once tapping it against your own teeth like you did with the ring. It gives him a new affection for you, to see you admire something he not only made you, but something that’s wholly him.

Later when he’s waiting for you in bed while you wander around and look for your phone, the intrusive thought he’d been keeping in finally breaks the surf of his mind.

“I’d knock out all my teeth for you.” He says it into the quiet and you pause at the foot of the bed to tilt your head at him.

“That’s so sweet.” You giggle quietly, the look you give him is contemplative.

“No I’m serious.” He leans up on his elbow to look you square in the eyes. “I’d hang ‘em all on a silver chain, drape them on you like pearls.” His stare gets a weight to it that makes you feel rooted to the spot. “I’d make you an altar out of them. Give them to you like little offerings.”

“You make it sound like I’m a deity you need to please.”

“Oh but you are.” He rolls up off his elbow to crawl towards the end of the bed and kneel in front of you. “Everything I do is in service to you and your good favor.” He splays a hand over his bare chest and you know he’s doing a thing but his wide eyed eagerness on his knees is doing it for you.

“And you’d hand over your teeth just for that?”

“I’d hand over my life.” He grabs your hand and presses it over his heart. “I’d leave imprints of my teeth all over you and then hand them over on a platter.”

“Why is this so hot?” You mutter at him, your body flush with heat suddenly.

“I know, keep playing along.” He whispers back, eyebrows twitching upwards. “I’m simply a vessel for your happiness and if that means sacrificing pieces of myself,” his hands settle up behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss, “then I’ll pull them all out by the root and leave them on the steps of your temple.” He keeps pulling you back until you have to catch yourself and climb over him, his lanky frame unfolding under you.

“Does that make you a patron or a priest?” You straddle his hips and break away from the kiss to stare at him, necklace dangling down against his cheek.

“I’m your most devoted follower.” He whispers in the small space between you two, eyes searching. “I’ve pledged my life to you.” His fingers dig in to your bare thighs. “Not for just a reward in the afterlife but in the hopes that you’ll grant me one look at your divine form.”

“Eddie!” You laugh at him and sit up, face and neck hot from his praise.

“What? I mean it! All of that for one…touch.” He slides his palms around to grab your ass and you laugh harder.

“That’s all you want? Just a touch?”

“Well maybe a long, continuous one.” He tries to slide his hands up further but you stop him at your hips. He looks determined to feel up your sides but your grip on his wrists holds tight.

“You wouldn’t want to anger your god now, would you?” His eyes widen at your sudden boldness. When you can tell he’ll sit still you unhand him to pull up the hem of your shirt slowly. “You give me a lifetime of servitude for a single touch?” Before you pull it over your head you give him a wicked a grin. “I’ll reward you with your single wish.”

He understands the game but his hands still twitch when you toss your shirt to the side, chest bared to him. You wiggle around until you get your underwear off, his hands still attached to you. He gets one touch and he won’t waste it, not now that you’re fully naked over him. You pull his boxers down, hands grazing sensitive skin and he pushes his head back into the pillow with a groan.

He clenches his jaw when you grind down on him, sliding over the head of his cock. His eyes rolling when you lean back and brace yourself on his thighs. You gasp with every roll of your hips and he whimpers.

“God damnit can I please touch you?” He grinds out through clenched teeth. The wet slide of your cunt has him breathing shallow and fast, the urge to buck up and fuck you settling low in the base of his spine. “C’mon, don’t I get some kind of fu-uck…” He stutters when your nails drag over his thighs. “You gotta show me some k-kind of mercy.”

“I’m already wearing a piece of you Eddie.”

His chest rises and falls, nostrils flared while he breaths heavy against his own willpower. The tattoos on his arms jump when he digs his fingers into your hips harder, an anchor he has to keep in place until you tell him he can move. “Why don’t you show me just how devoted you are?”

His first instinct, his first want, is to push you back and hold you down and make you sob about it. He’d like to hitch your legs up over his hips and make you remember the feeling of him deep inside for a few days.

But that’s not how you treat a goddess.

He slides his hands up your back with care when he sits up, his lips pressing softly into the space between your breast. He kisses up and over the necklace, warmed by your skin under it. Kisses up your neck until he has to pull your head down to meet his lips again. His fingers don’t grasp like they did a moment ago. They dance light over your skin, along the edge of your hair. They trace up under your jaw and over your cheeks, down your nose. He follows their path with his mouth, gentle kisses following gentle touch.

Your hips don’t move as rapid as they were and he uses it to his advantage. He presses up until he hears that gasp when he breaches you, soft heat clenching around his cock almost enough to set him off. He basks in the moment too long and you try to move your hips down against his but he makes a sound of protest, something in the back of his throat like a whine. “Give me a second, I’m having a moment with divinity.”

Your laugh travels through you, vibrations under his palms when you test his resolve again. Another gentle roll and he lays his face into the crook of your neck to mouth at you. Tongue running flat up the tendon on display when your head tips back and he finally buries himself fully. Your fingers wind in his hair while he snakes a hand between you, thumb finding your clit and you both groan when your movements speed up. He’s already too close, got himself all wound up in the role play but he needs you to finish first to put a nice bow on this evening.

“Y’really like it?” He pants against you.

“Of c-course I do.”

“Y’gonna wear it every day?” You nod and whine when he puts more pressure on his thumb. “Let everyone know what kind of freak you are.” You keep nodding and grinding down on him and that line of heat licks up his spine fast. “Gonna show everyone aren’t you?” He can feel your thighs trembling around his hips, knees digging in on every downward movement. “C’mon baby, wanna see it.” It takes him a lot of effort to pull his head up to watch you. Your chin tilted up, mouth hung open and panting, all for him. He can feel the tension building in you and can see the crease between your brows. The low whine that crawls out of your throat and goes on and on when he finally hits your peak.

He huffs, almost laughing at the way you break, amazed as always at the way you react to him. You sit flush against him and grind and pull his hair and his eyes roll back in his head, a line of curses spilling out of his lips that you catch with your own. He comes fast and hot, the edges of his vision going spotty while you keep his head steady and swallow all his grunts. In his foggy thoughts he can feel you run your tongue over the new space in his mouth, the feeling just foreign enough that it makes him shiver before he laughs again at your interest.

It takes a moment for you both to come down, you slouching into Eddie and making him fall back against the pillows, still out of breath.

“So I take it I’ve won your favor.” He grins up at the ceiling, running his hand over your back.

“You keep calling me a god, you can have whatever you want.” You roll on your side and nuzzle up under his outstretched arm.

“Don’t teeth have something to do with prosperity?” He snaps his fingers behind your head. “With all these new adornments, we’re gonna be swimmin’ in it baby.”

“Oh so that’s why you worship me, for my money!” You poke his side hard enough he flinches and curls around you suddenly, locking you into a hug and pinning you down on the bed. His lips brush your ear when he speaks lowly to you. “I worship you because you deserve it, the prosperity is a perk.” He keeps you close for a while until you both get too hot, sticky skin separating under cool sheets. He still has to touch you though and his foot finds yours while he reaches over to play with your necklace.

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.”

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.” You laugh. “We could have been having a much different evening otherwise.”

(Sacrifice for the read more)

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Smut #My Fic #My Work #Freak Like Me

[gomzwrites]

The taskforce 141 reactions to your display of jealousy

a/n: I’ve seen a fair amount of fics and writings that show them being jealous, but what if we are the ones that get jealous then? ;) 

In this fic, the reader is more like in denial sort of jealousy + first time feeling jealous kind of thing. I decided to do a mix of displays from reader, Price and Ghost are subtle, Soap and Gaz are more direct!

I might do another one where it's more action-based and possessive like reader beating the strangers up or something

also the relationship between reader and tf141 is not exactly publicly known :)  Notes:

dividers drawn by @gomzdraws (click for better resolution!)

reader's texts are in purple

Tags: xgn!reader, established relationship(basically already dating), incorrect military terms, implied nsfw but its sfw I swear, cursing

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Captain John Price

Captain Price has been going around giving meetings and distributing tasks as you follow along and help him carry the essential documents all day. In the last meeting, he will meet one of the operators to explain the upcoming missions. You decide to wait on the other side of the room as you watch the captain carry out his duty. 

Everything was fine as the conversation went on. You may be standing at a distance, but you can faintly hear the discussion. You can tell he is quite impressed with the soldier’s skill, and the exchange was beginning to be less serious as they started talking about things that were out of topic. You watch from the corner of your eyes as the person starts leaning closer, even cracking jokes as they pat John’s shoulder.

Well, whoever that is, they sure know how to butter the captain up.

You thought for a moment before internal cursing as you shook your head.

Get a grip; he is the captain; surely he knows what he’s do-

Your thoughts stop as you watch the person lean in and whisper something to John’s ears, and you notice how the Captain shifted slightly and cleared his throat. The soldier proceeded to shuffle something into his back pants pocket before leaving, even winking at him before the door was closed. 

What the fuck? 

You furrow your brows as you watch Captain sigh, walk back to his desk, and take his seat. You waited until he gestured for you to come to him with his hand, and you decided to act naturally as you organised the messy papers and reports on his table. 

This is not something you should be worried about in the first place, so don’t even bring it up. You say this to yourself internally as you take a seat next to him and read through the documents. But your mind keeps racing, and there's a burning feeling inside you, clouding your thoughts as you tap your finger softly on the table repeatedly.

"Y/N", the Captain said as he lifted your chin up. You followed his hand and slowly glanced up and stared at him with a hint of embarrassment. Did he find out what I was thinking already?

Yes, sir?

You answer back with the most steady voice you can muster at the moment. You watch as he softens his gaze and brushes your hair away. You recognise that look.

You’re not talking to the captain now; you’re talking to John.

He doesn't say a word as he takes out the paper from his back pocket and places it on the table. You try to maintain your composure and remain as calm as you can when you see a number scribbled on the paper, but you can't help but let out a cold glare at the paper for a second.

That piece of shi-

He taps your chin twice lightly as he grabs your attention again before running his hand down to your neck and resting it there. You know this signal, so you promptly hold out his favourite lighter that you carry around and light up his cigar. He hums appreciatively as he takes a drag and puffs out the smoke. 

He looks back at you, silently telling you to keep your eyes on his as he takes the cigar out of his lips, twisting it between his fingers before he rolls and holds the cigar vertically, the evenly burned red-orange cherry side at the end facing downward. You follow curiously before watching him plant it firmly on the paper, twisting it until a hole appears as he smiles and kisses your cheek.

"You know I’ll only look at you, sweetheart," he whispers with his deep, husky tone as you blush and glance away. 

You knew? You say it softly as he leans in and brushes your neck in slow circles as he nods and chuckles. 

"Course I do, I know everything about you," he said before taking another drag from his cigar as he smirked and leaned in closer.

"You look like you were about to punch that person in the face; it’s pretty hot, actually," he says as he watches you shake your head and roll your eyes lightly. 

Hot? Woah, who knew you liked me being violent? 

You joke back as he kisses your ears softly, feeling his beard tickling you as you sigh. He gives you a dark look, dipping his voice another octave lower as he moves his hand from your neck slowly down to your hip.

Oh, I love it when you get all rowdy and rough, especially if you’re doing it because of me, like last night, hm?

That instantly makes you go red as you give a nervous laugh and squirm in your seat at the memory. He gives you an amused look as he puts his hand on your waist and pulls you in closer. 

Well, it looks like tonight will be the same.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

John Soap MacTavish

You were idling around the base after just finishing healing from a previous mission. Technically,  you’re not supposed to move around so much, but you were already getting bored as you stared up at the same ceiling for days. You know Soap has been helping you out immensely by practically moving into your room and keeping you company. But he went on a mission and won’t return until today, so you decided to sneak out of the room and brew yourself a cup of tea. You hum as you take in the smell and sigh. 

This is certainly better than water, that’s for sure

you think to yourself before deciding to walk around and explore the base. Well,  just glancing around to see if there’s anything new that has happened. That’s when you spotted a few jeeps with a group of people and a few regular faces you recognised: Ghost, Gaz, Price, and your boyfriend Soap getting down from the vehicle. You wanted to wave and call out to Soap before noticing someone else beside him, but what really caught your attention was the jacket the person was wearing; it was his jacket. Your favourite jacket of his. 

You stop dead in your tracks from a distance as your grip on the tea mug tightens. You observe as Soap and the gang talk and laugh, you know like they always do post-mission, and yet something just doesn’t seem right for you as you fixate your gaze on the person that has been clinging to Soap, wrapping their hands around his arm as they also joke along. You can see Soap politely patting their arms away as he bumps their shoulder.

Right, he’s doing something about it. You thought to yourself before you quickly went back to your room. You knew Soap wouldn't do anything that would upset you, but yet you couldn’t shake that thought away—the thought of someone else whirling him away. You hate it; whatever it is that you’re feeling, it feels wrong, even toxic, but you just can’t help it. You know it's not his fault, and you’re well aware that he can’t control everyone’s actions. You decided to lie on your bed and pull the blanket over yourself as you tried to sleep it away.

Not long after, Soap knocks gently at your door and enters your room. He notices how you are facing the wall and bundled in a blanket, breathing normally, which indicates that you aren't sleeping despite your eyes being closed.

Heeeeeyyyy, how’s ma favourite cutie feeling, hm?

He asked in his usual light tone as he sat on your bed and petted your blanket. He stared at you as he leaned in and kissed your shoulder softly.

Ya awrite? 

He asked as he noticed how you were quieter than usual. Your heart broke slightly as you noted how his tone became worried, so you turned around and gently brushed his cheek as you shook your head.

I'm okay, dear. Just tired. You lied as you smiled and watched as he took your hand and cupped his own face. “Anything ah can do for ye?”,  He asks again with puppy eyes as you chuckle, pulls his face close to you, and kiss his lips softly. Cuddles. You whisper softly as he smiles and hugs you close. Ayeee, then it's cuddles you're gettin’

He says as he lays down beside you, nuzzles his neck on your shoulder, and pulls you close to him. You sigh happily as you let the jealous thoughts slowly dissolve away, but that doesn’t mean you forget about the incident.

A few days later, when you were doing laundry, you spotted his jacket again—the one that fuc—you mean, the other person—was wearing that time. You stared at it as you lifted it up from the basket, and instantly a whiff of perfume or cologne that you did not recognise got picked up by your nose. You frowned and glared at the jacket for a moment, seething in anger as you decided to toss it into the washer. After washing and drying it, you had an idea and opted to wear and keep it. Naw, this is my jacket now. You thought to yourself as you walked around the base with the jacket, a proud look clearly showing on your face as the jacket had a clearly huge "Soap" behind it.

Soap notices as he smirks and walks towards you, crossing his arm as he stands beside you. “Oi? Is that ma jacket?”, he says as he takes a good look at you, grinning ear to ear as he glances you up and down. He won’t lie, he never knew how good you looked wearing his stuff.

Your jacket? I have no idea what you’re talking about; it's mine now.

You replied back nonchalantly when you noticed that same person who was with Soap the other day staring at you from across the hall. You gave them a death glare as you turned and pulled Soap down by his collar, making him jolt forward as he gasped slightly at the sudden motion. You kept eye contact as you whispered to Soap.

Not only the jacket, but you’re mine as well

Your lips barely brush his ears slightly as Soap blushes and gives out a surprised laugh.

Well, well, well.

He replied back in a shocked tone as he watched the direction you were looking at before he gave an "ah" sound as he made the connection. He giggled as he stared back at you with a loving stare. “Hmm, didnae take yer a jealous one”, he says before holding you closer to him by the waist and kissing your forehead. Mmm, you give a grunt as you feign annoyance and glance away. He laughs as he nuzzles you close and gives you a hug. “Aw~ dun get mad at me, yer know I love ya, and only ya”, he kisses you on the neck softly to tickle you as you drop your frown and giggle at him to push him away playfully,

Oh fuck off, don't go all sappy on me now. 

You roll your eyes as you try to wiggle your way out. “Nuh uh, I will show yer how much I love ya”, he says before he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. You let out a yelp as you move around and let out a whine. MacTavish! Put me down this instant!  You say it with a laugh as he smacks your ass and shakes his head as he walks towards his room.

“Nope, ah won't, you're going to get all the love you missed.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Kyle Gaz Garrick

You wake up early after preparing yourself, walking slowly to the kitchen to carry out your routine. You like to start your day off with coffee, and on the other hand, Kyle likes to have tea in the morning. Jasmine tea with two teaspoons of sugar and some milk, just the way he likes it. So every morning for the past few months of dating, you always make sure to brew him his tea as well when you make coffee. You shuffle around the shelves as you look for his mug, being confused when you don't see it at the usual spot. You glance around before you hear Kyle speaking to someone on the other side of the place. You follow the voices and take a peek behind a wall as you watch him talk to someone with his mug in his hands already.

Hm, so he brewed it himself today? That’s odd, maybe because he woke up earlier.

You didn’t think much of it as you went back to the kitchen to make yourself a coffee and go on with your day.

The next day, you walk to the kitchen and find his mug, only to find it not there again. You frown as you try to rationalise your thoughts.

Okay, maybe he was in a hurry.

You think again as you shake those thoughts away and carry out your duties. But then it starts to bother you when the same thing happens again the next day and again for the following two days.

He never brought it up and neither one of you talked about it. You assume maybe you messed up the way you make his tea or maybe he changed his preference. But it still confuses you, and it hurts a little too; he could’ve told you if that's the case. However, something else is notable: he has been getting more headaches recently, and you’ve asked him about it.

Are you sure it's not something serious? How about going to the medical bay to check if everything’s alright?

No, no, it's fine; it's just stress.

You decided enough was enough as you woke up extra early today to question him in the kitchen about why he started making tea for himself. But then that's when you saw it—a figure that opened the top shelf and took his mug out. You recognise that person; it was one of the recruits Kyle has been speaking to lately. You immediately stepped forward and grabbed their hand as you spoke calmly.

What do you think you’re doing?

“Huh?”, The person gets caught off guard as they glance back at you, a frown forming on their face as they continue; it's almost as if they’re annoyed that they were stopped by you.

Erm, making coffee for my superior? Why? Because I can? So you’ve been doing this for the past few days? Yeah.

The recruit replied back with a proud look as they rested their hands on their hips, not hiding the fact that they were doing Gaz this favour for obvious reasons when the blush on their cheeks was prominent.

That’s when it clicked: he hasn’t been making tea himself, and the source of his headaches is because of this dumbass. Kyle can’t hold his caffeine; it always gives him a splitting headache. You also know how he has trouble rejecting kindness from others and has always kept silent about his actions. You sigh as you take the mug from the person.

Hey! What’s your problem? Give it ba-

You watch your tone.

Your sharp voice cuts through the air as you turn and stare down at them, leaning closer to the recruit as venom seeps out of your mouth.

Sergeant Gaz doesn’t take coffee; if you wanted to flirt with someone, at least be smart about it. Oh, wait, never mind about that... (You trail off as you firmly press your hand on their shoulder, gazing down as the recruit gulps and shivers nervously under your scrutiny.) You probably don’t even know he’s taken already; poor you. How did you end up here with such an empty head anyway? I thought everyone here was smart and observant; clearly, you’re not.

The recruit gasps as tears prick up in their corner, and they immediately falter and shamefully run away as you sigh.

Okay, maybe that was too far.

You mumbled before hearing something shuffling behind you. You felt your back warm up as Kyle hugged your shoulder from behind. You smile as you kiss his arm and stare up at him.

“I'm sorry; I should’ve told you about it.” His voice is a low whisper as you softly caress his arm soothingly. You know, you could’ve poured the coffee away or let me drink it. You speak gently as you slowly turn around to face him.

“I know, but I didn’t want to waste it or deny the coffee when someone had made it for me.” You sigh as you brush your hand on his cheek and continue.

Well, they won’t anymore, and only I will be the one making you tea from this day on. You give a smile when Kyle chuckles and kisses your forehead. “I’ll have to admit that watching you speak like that was pretty cool”, He said it with a smirk as you shook your head. Ah, so I wasn’t cool before? You tease him back as he quickly shakes his head and kisses your hands. “I didn’t say that.” He giggles as he sighs and rests his head on your shoulder. “Can you make me tea again? Just the way I like it?”, He whispers with a smile as you nod and kiss his cheek.

Always.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Simon Ghost Riley

It was one of the sparring sessions where Ghost and Soap were tasked with providing training and demonstrations to the new recruits. You decided to join and watch from the side and provide any needed assistance, but truthfully, you just wanted to watch Ghost. It's moments like these where you get to see him roll up his sleeves and flex his muscles. Sure,  you get to see all of him whenever you’re in his bedroom, but watching him display himself confidently in public? That’s a different kind of look you will never get tired of.

The session went on normally, and most recruits were obedient and managed to replicate what Ghost and Soap have been demonstrating, with just a few slower soldiers that require more attention, which they supervise and guide on a one-to-one basis.

And there was this one recruit that Ghost has been teaching for some time now. You note how the recruit was standing slightly closer to him, and the way they looked at Ghost made you uneasy—not in a way that you think that person is going to hurt him, but in a way that you feel that the person has an ulterior motive. You don't miss the way the recruit brushed their hand across his arm, or how they were pressing their body against his in a way that was definitely unnecessary in the training, or how they deliberately messed up a step and let out that annoying giggle-

I'm overthinking. 

You thought to yourself when you realised you were frowning and your hands were balled into a fist. You decided to step outside and take a breather as you tried to calm yourself. You sat on the bench alone as you breathed out and ran through your mind again.

Stop overthinking. They’re just training; Ghost is literally an adult. I don't have to fret over something like this, do I? Okay, what was that question? Of course I don't. Right, but why the hell did they stick so close anyway-

You drown in your own inner monologue as your eyebrows furrow, and you sigh again as you rest your head on your knees, all the while Ghost has been watching you at the corner.

He saw and noticed when you were staring just now. Well, you always do stare, and he likes it, but this time he felt your gaze was different, and from the way you stand with that tense shoulder and the way your hands were forming a fist, It didn't sit right with him, so he told Soap to take over the recruit, not even answering the "why" from the person as he quickly followed you when you left.

"Love…?" Ghost said as he cautiously stood behind you and looked down with a concerned expression, he watched as you glanced up and smiled at him.

That’s not a smile he knows.

Oh, hey Ghost! I'm just resting, don’t mind me.

"No, you’re not; I can see you thinking." Ghost replies back instantly as he takes a seat next to you and rubs your hands, softening his gaze as he leans in and rests his forehead on yours. "What is it, love?", Ghost asks as he takes in your demeanour. He watches as you clench your jaw and hold your breath, then glances away as you sigh, and then you look back at him again as you frown. He always likes observing you, and he can tell that you’re contemplating, so he gave your hand a squeeze to urge you to continue.

I just… I just didn't like how the recruit was acting around you; I don't know why.

You finally spit it out as you nervously grab his fingers and fiddle with them as you try to calm down. After saying it out loud, you do feel a little childish, and you don't know what his response will be either.

Ghost remained silent for a moment as he processed your words and thought back about the training. He did find the recruit slightly annoying because they’ve been deliberately repeating the same mistake over and over again, but he has not realised why they did so. Until now.

Oh

His thoughts click as he tilts his head slightly and looks back at you, now with a smirk growing as his mask shifts slightly.

"You’re jea-" No.

You cut him off as you turn away from him and face your back at him. He watches as redness forms at the tip of your ear. He chuckles as he leans in and rests his head on your head, kissing your hair slightly as he watches your pout which makes your cheeks get puffy.

Cute. So this is what you’re like when you’re jealous. He thought to himself before he raised his hand and pulled your cheek, causing you to gasp as you thrashed around.

What the-hey! Get off!

You complain back angrily as he does not stop and squishes your face after he pulls it a few more times. You protest more as you grab his hand until you can't help but giggle at him when you know he won’t stop.

Stop it! You’re going to make me have wrinkles!

He gives a soft huff of air as he shakes his head and grabs your right cheek with his thumb and index finger and bites it gently, 

“I don't mind wrinkles”, he whispers as you let out a "hmph", grabbing his sleeve as you glare at him. He laughs again as he plants a kiss on the cheek he bit earlier.

I hate you.

I love you too.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

a/n: this is for all the Ghostie lovers out there to make up for the last fic <3 Im a firm believer that Ghost is silly in relationships, like come on man was putting out puns and jokes during the mission in the game! also bonus from my friends' reactions to Gaz's part:

Likes, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated Have a good day/night! :D

#cod #cod x reader #cod imagines #cod mwii #cod mw2 #mw2 imagine #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic #cod fanfic #call of duty x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gomzwrites

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

I want you, I love you (SimonxF!reader)

Here’s one for @glitterypirateduck’s challenge for our big boy Simon! I used 7.”Accidental confession” and 25.”Ghost and reader have to dress up for an event”.

Warning: Language.

Enjoy!

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

He didn’t want to go. He hated going to Galas or really any event where money and politics were being discussed, the big spenders and supporters of the military with their almost carbon copy wives. He hated having to pretend that he cared about what the old men were talking to him about, asking always how many men he’s killed for “the greater good”. Ignoring their salacious wives’ advances to simply walk off to the bar or track down Johnny.

That was before you though. You, who somehow wormed your way into his head and his heart, long since thought cold and dead.

You’d been with the team for 2 years now, seamlessly integrating yourself into their everyday. Formed a fast friendship with Gaz and Johnny, looked to Price for guidance, and never shied away from talking to Ghost himself like you’d known him for ages.

He approved of your snarky attitude and the way you operated on the field, watching his back (and saving his ass a couple times), being able to hold your own in a fight. He still goes back to the day he watched you take down Price, a man twice your size and weight, he’d never been hotter under the collar.

Now as he gazes blankly into the abyss thinking of you, ignoring the droning of the old man and his idiotically annoying wife, he catches sight of deep, sparkling blue fabric. His eyes trailed the fabric up to strings of black pearls clinging to curvy, plush hips. Up higher to more pearls hanging and clinging to a soft stomach and ample breasts, shoulders bare save for a black fur coat.

A low whistle came from his left, Johnny showing up from the corner of his eye. ”Well, never thought I’d see the day we got to see Bonnie all dressed up.” “Don’t even think about it Mactavish.” Johnny chuckled, “Aye not looking to die tonight L.T. Would nae make a move on your woman.”

”Oh are we giving Simon shit about his crush?” “Fuck off Garrick.” Gaz chuckled and patted Simon’s shoulder, “Aw Simon, give it a rest. You’ve been drooling over the bloody woman for the whole 2 years she’s been with us.” Simon looked down before following your figure again, glaring at any man that even dared to approach you, let alone try to flirt with you. You were popular among the male recruits unfortunately.

”Are ye gonna tell ‘er?” “No. Best not to.” The three men shook their heads and rolled their eyes, “Simon, I’m gonna give it to you straight.” “I expect nothing less.” “Stop being a bloody fucking muppet and go talk to that poor woman before you actually lose her to a worse muppet.” He turned to stare at Price in disbelief.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Migraine?” He looked up to find you holding out a glass of bourbon to him as you take a sip of your own and sit. He gladly takes the glass, moving his mask to take a sip. “Always luv. Never stops when you’re around idiots all day.” You laughed and shook your head, “Aw Johnny’s not that bad L.T.” “Not talkin ‘bout Johnny sweetheart.” “Mmm, the recruits giving you a hard time?” “Bloody infants. Every single one of ‘em.”

His heart sang with joy at the sound of your full laugh,  he tried his hardest not to stare but he couldn’t help it. You were so beautiful. “Hahaha tell me about it. They complain so much about literally everything. Gets annoying havin to hear it day in and day out.” He nods in agreement. The silence stretched on for a bit as you both took sips of your drinks. “Care to dance? You’re the only one I haven’t danced with yet.”

”Don’t dance luv.” “Can’t be any worse than Johnny. He tried to dip me and I almost fell.” Simon chuckled at the image of Johnny doing just that, the image making him grin under the mask. “We don’t have to. Just wanted to dance with someone that didn’t wanna stare at my chest or comment on my body.” “Shameless pigs. You deserve a proper dance then.” He watches you excitedly put your drink down and link your arm with him.

It was then he got a whiff of your perfume, light and delicious with a touch of cinnamon and vanilla. Your arm and hands were warm wrapped around his arm and he puffed up when you subconsciously groped his bicep and laid your head on it.

The two of you danced for a few songs, you leading him slowly. As the last song ended he found your face flushed and hair a bit disheveled. Eyes bright and lovely, smile radiant against your glowing skin. “You’re so beautiful luv. I want you.” ‘Fuck’. Your eyes widened as you looked up into his. “W-what?” Simon sighs, he’s done it now.

”I want you, lovie. I want your body, your smiles, your laughter. Want all your love for myself everyday. I love you.” He watched your face, anxiously waiting for your answer. A smile spread across your features and you giggled, “Took you long enough Simon.” “That mean I can kiss you now?” You nodded, smile wide as he lifted his mask slightly, arm sliding around your waist, a hand at the back of your head.

The kiss was passionate, all consuming, and delicious. Ghost never wanted to part from your lips, but the look of love shining in your eyes made him happy he did. “Wanna get out of here?” “Fuck yes. Tired of these pompous assholes.” Somewhere close by Gaz, Price, and Johnny look on, happy for Simon.

#ghostchallenge #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

[nrdmssgs]

Sharing one bed with your friend from 141

Masterlist Little oneshots. Sharing a bed, because there is only one left free.

TW: Please note, that in every situation, a reader is an old friend of one of the four and there is a bit of sympathy beyond friendship between them!! So I wasn't trying to make TF 141 a bunch of awkward scary guys, that hug you without any reason and consent!! Don't worry, none of them would ever harm you, guys!!!

Simon Ghost Riley

"I warn you, I'm used to sleeping alone, so I may hog the blankets. If it happens so - don't hesitate to wake me up, ok?"

Ghost glares at you and chuckles briefly. "I get to sleep in a normal bed only once every few months. Don't think you can steal anything from me."

You sigh and turn away: well, at least you warned him. He may be some kind of super-soldier, but he is yet to discover, how fury an inveterate solo-sleeper can be. "Nighty." But he doesn't answer you - must have fallen asleep immediately.

You wake up in a tight, warm cocoon of blankets: obviously yours and his. But when you try to move - it appears harder than it seemed at first. Something, or rather someone, presses all these blankets down to you. So you turn your head only to meet Simons menacing, unblinking gaze.

"You saw nothing." His hand guides you by your chin to lay back down on a pillow, facing away from him. Then he goes back to wrapping you in a tight embrace. "I got cold, and you refused to give my blanket back."

Captain John Price

"Lemme know if it gets too warm. I got feedback about being a human furnace for a couple of times." Despite the fact, that he just laid down beside you - Johns voice is already sleepy.

"I believe, you have to hug another person to get such a comment." You answer and laugh at Johns immediate 'oh, shi... sorry' and a friendly pat on your back, covered with blanket.

"Sleep well," wishes you Price. And that was... exactly, what you planned, if the man hadn't start snoring in ten minutes.

At first, you tried to be gentle, touching lightly his shoulder to make him go quiet. But when he woke you up for the fifth time in a row - you punched him so hard - you must have left a bruise on his back. But John Price could sleep on a military base. He could sleep in a flying helli between the missions, being surrounded by shouting soldiers. Even your punches feel like a tender caresses in comparison to the chaos, in which he sometimes has to fall asleep.

He wakes up only when you almost throw him off the bed. "John! You snore like a freakin bear!" You are out of energy and already consider going to sleep on a floor in another room, only to get away from this nightmare.

He blinks a couple of times, obviously not waking up fully, then scoops you up, nuzzles your neck and whispers in a sleepy ruffle voice "M`sorry, love. You should let me know right away, if I wake you up again."

Perfect: now he's mistaken you for someone in his sleep! Well, at least, he really stays quiet, as he is hugging you. So you decide to let him do it, as long as it grants you sound sleep.

On the next morning, Price inspects his back in the mirror, when you walk past him. "Never considered enlisting in the military? I could use a furious little beast like you..."

Johnny Soap Mactavish

"Soap, for f sake, you are a grown man, what are you doing?" You grunt, as yet another decorative pillow hits your back.

"Building a wall, lass. Otherwise, you'll end up on my side of bed as usual!" He isn't even thinking of stopping, so the next pillow hits your head.

"Johnny, Hadrians Wall took less time to be built up! And I repeat for the hundredth time: I don't have a single idea, how does it happen, but I swear, it's not me! I don't tend to move in my sleep. When I'm alone - I always wake up in the exact same pose, I've fallen asleep!" You try to grab a pillow to throw it away, but he doesn't let you.

"Well, then it's my natural charm, that just drawn you to my side every time." Soap finally places the last pillow up on his 'wall' between yours and his sides of the bed.

You wake up in the same place you've fallen asleep. Only this time you are buried under the remains of Johnnys 'masterpiece' from yesterday. Grunting, you try to get out from under a pile of pillows, but you feel Johnny's whole body pressing against you from behind with a displeased rumbling. And only then it hits you.

You turn to him and whisper in his sleeping face. "It was you all this time. You grabbed me and pulled to your side of the bed, you sneaky bastard..." Johnny mumbles something incoherent in his sleep and only presses you closer to him.

Kyle Gaz Garrick

"Ok, good night." Kyle turns the light down and goes silent.

You lie awake for some time, listening to the sounds outside the window, but gradually you fall asleep. However, very soon, you startle and open your eyes: there is someone in the room, you two are no more alone. You hear the wooden floor crackling closer. Someone's shadow falls on the wall. You are frightened, but you lie quietly, blaming it all on your imagination. And then you feel the mattress sag under someone's weight at your feet.

At that moment you understand, you had enough and in one swift motion dart to Kyle, ending up on top of him. It wakes him up and for a few moments, he looks confused as his eyes adjust to the darkness. But when he understands, it's you, he relaxes. "Ahem, hi?"

"There is someone in this bed. Someone besides us!" You whisper, shifting your weight to the side, so that Kyle is left to defend you from the mysterious threat.

He turns the bedside lamp on and starts laughing almost immediately. Your friends dog, that apparently freaked you out so badly, now curled up all cozy on your side of the bed.

"Hi buddy! You were feeling lonely, so you came to us, yeah?" Kyle scratches the dog behind the ear, and it happily beats the blanket with its tail. You breathe a sigh of relief, a little embarrassed at being so scared. However, you don't give Kyle a chance to start joking about this and push him closer to the center of the bed, settling in where he just slept.

"Okay, congratulations, now that buddy is your problem. I'm going to sleep!" You try to ignore Kyle's soft laugh.

"You're going to fall out of bed at night and scare the poor dog." He pulls you closer to him. "That's better. Sleep. And I'll protect you from this 'dire wolf'."

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty #soap call of duty #soap mactavish #soap cod #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod headcanons #141 headcanons #captain price #captain john price #cod price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost simon riley #kyle garrick #gaz mw2 #cod gaz #gaz x you #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader

[miniwheat77]

Pure. (Captain Price x Virgin!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, loss of virginity, oral sex (f receiving), blood, wounds (let me know if I missed any.)

(Summary): You’re new to sex and John figures that out pretty quickly.

This was a request, you can find the ask here.

You aren't sure how you managed to get yourself into the position you're in now. It started off amazing. You got along well with everyone on base, all of your missions were a success and not many issues had happened since being on base with taskforce 141. Everything seemed to go so well and it was amazing. Until of course, it wasn't.

You noticed the feelings you shared for everyone seemed to be the same unless it came to Captain Price. You laughed and joked with everyone else, but when it came to conversating with him, you almost always shied away from him, bright red cheeks and you always tried to distance yourself from him as fast as possible to avoid incriminating yourself anymore than you thought you already had.

John took a liking to you right away. You were sweet and did just about anything he'd ask you to do. He adored that you seemed so submissive, so caring. You always checked up on everyone. If someone seemed like they were having an off day, you were always the first to ask them how they were doing, trying to cheer them up anyway you could, and he loved that about you. John might've stared a little too much. Might've spent too much time thinking about you, analyzing you. Figuring out your each move.

It didn't take John long to realize you acted the way you did because you were innocent. You know a lot about how fucked up the world could be but didn't have much exposure to it on your end. You only had one childhood boyfriend that you dated for around 6 weeks, and only seen him during school. You were still innocent and John admired that about you. But knew it would never last with the military. You would be broken down and worn out like the rest of them, thinking that about you broke John's heart a little. John took a liking to you right away and sometimes he flirted a little more than he really meant to, always complimenting you. Calling you pretty, saying he liked your outfits, how he liked the way your lips looked glossy from a little bit of chapstick. To you it seemed innocent, but to him he really wanted you to notice him.

He knew with the age gap, there’d most likely never be anything going on between the two of you, but it’s the thought that counts. Right?

John always looked out for you. And despite how toxic it may have seemed, he tried to keep the other guys away from you. The couple times he heard them talking about you and how innocent you were, he put an abrupt stop to that immediately. In a way, you were his and that was that. Despite being infantry and on the front lines with the group, you had started out as a combat medic and knew your way around a few wounds. Sometimes when all of the medics were busy, you were alongside helping them patch people up until they could be seen by the medics.

John carried out a mission that had gone a little south, and each member of his team was injured in some way. Gunshot wounds in places that weren’t fatal but still needed attention, gashes that needed stitches.

John was waiting outside of the infirmary, when you arrived. You had been injured as well, but definitely the least out of all of you. “John, it’s your turn to get looked at.” You breathe. “No. I’m fine.” He’s a little stern but you don’t listen to him. “How about I take a look at you? At least?” You look up at him with those doe eyes he adores so much. “Fine.” He sighs. “She told me all of the beds are full. So you can come to my room.” You nod your head, following him along the hallway. John felt like an idiot for leading his team into danger like this. It was his fault they were all injured. Even you. He opens the door to his room and you follow him inside. He closes it after you step inside. You’ve gathered a little bit of medical equipment, some tools for stitching that were packaged and sanitized already. John knows where the worst wound is, the back of his upper shoulder. He pulls his shirt off, it was no good anyways. He sits on his cot with his shoulder to you and you start bandaging him up. Luckily it wasn’t too deep to need stitches. A few other wounds on him needed attention. A couple pieces of shrapnel, gashes here and there. Once his wounds were clean and bandaged, it was your turn. You made a move for the door but he stops you. “Don’t think I don’t see the blood on your clothes Y/N.” He chuckles. “It’s your turn, sit down.” You nod your head.

He starts slow. Washing his hands, cleaning any equipment he’d need. You have to strip down to nothing but a bra and your cargo pants. It’s awkward at first but as he bandages you up, you get used to it. He starts making normal conversation as he helps you out. But eventually, it goes a little deeper. You asked him if he had a wife and he said no. No wife or kids. No relationship in the past couple decades, which made your eyes sparkle just a little when you found out.

“What’s this?” He points to your upper thigh. “Oh.. uh.” He notices the large tear in your cargo pants and sees that there’s a massive gash there. “Gonna have to bandage that. Need to get a closer look to see how deep it is.” You nod your head, standing up awkwardly. “I think I can do this one myself if-“

“Nonsense, I’ve got everything we need here. No worries okay? Nobody will see.” He reassures you. You take a deep breath and nod your head.

It’s very apparent to John that nobody had ever seen you in your undergarments before. You take a deep breath. Reaching to your front to unbutton your pants, sliding them down your thighs and off before sitting back down onto the bed. John has to force himself to look away from your panties. They were plain and white, but he still admired them. Maybe that was just because they were on you. He swallows hard as he gets to work. It’s not too deep. “I’m going to bandage it for now, I don’t think it’s deep enough to need stitches but you need to keep an eye on it. Make sure it’s clean.” You nod your head. Once he’s finished and cleaned up the dried blood on your thigh, he looks down your legs for any other cuts or punctures, not finding any. He stands up. Picking up an army green sweater of his own and passing it to you. “Here, since your shirt’s covered in blood.” He smiles.

“Thank you Captain.” You blush, taking it from him. You slip it on and he has to force his eyes away from you. You looked so good swimming in his sweatshirt. It goes down to about your mid thigh, covering your panties. He breathes out. “You’re a very pretty girl you know that?” He smiles. “Oh.. thank you.” You smile. You notice his hoodie has his scent on it. It’s intoxicating.

You’re standing now, having slipped the hoodie on, you needed to pick up your clothes. You stand up straight to look up at him, thank him for helping you out. But instead, he stares at you. He notices a few strands of your hair in your face and doesn’t think before reaching forward to tuck them behind your ear, leaning in closer to you than he intended, and he can see your eyes flicker to his lips.

You thought he was going to kiss you.

And you didn’t panic or shove him away.

John takes the opportunity and leans in, lips brushing over yours. Your eyes close tightly and you’re breathing a little heavier than before. Once he closes the distance between the both of you, lips pressed firmly to yours he moves himself closer, hand still cupping your face as he deepens the kiss. He pulls you flush against him, hands holding your hips as he kisses you. He lowers his hand to your thigh, placing it there. You don’t realize it, but you open your legs just slightly subconsciously. He takes that as an invitation, fingertips gliding over your exposed skin. He doesn’t move his lips from yours and he can tell you’ve not had much experience. You kiss him shyly, lips moving a little sloppily. He doesn’t mind.

When his fingertips glide over your opening through your panties, your lips move from his so that a gasp could leave your mouth. Only now realizing what was happening. You’re panting a little, lips plump and slightly pinker from the friction. Your eyes were wide as you lowered your gaze to where his hand rested between your thighs, rubbing over the wet patch of your panties. “It’s okay. Just relax for me yeah?” He smiles. He’s rubbing small circles into your clit, your hips bucking slightly. His fingers are just barely brushing over your opening, ghosting over your clit in circles.

“Captain I-“

“Call me John sweetheart.”

“John..” you trail off. “I’ve never.. um.” You take a deep breath. “I know love, I can tell.” He let’s out a deep chuckle, your cheeks reddening. “No… I mean.” You swallow hard. “I’ve never done anything, not with anyone. Not by myself either.” John draws his hand back, resting it on your thigh. “You’ve never touched yourself before?” He asks. “Just.. rubbing the outside. But not even that really.” He smiles. “It’s alright love. Do you want me to stop? It’s okay to stop me if you’re uncomfortable.” Your brain screams at you. This is a bad idea, he’s your captain. But the heat he’s awoken inside of you tugs you toward him. “I…” John smiles at your silence. You don’t want him to stop, but you’re too awkward to tell him to keep going. Hand gliding up your thigh again. Your eyes flutter closed, giving him the impression you’re okay with what he’s doing. He pushes you back slightly, into the wooden desk behind you. You rest your hands on it, hips pushed out from leaning against it. He rubs gentle circles over your covered pussy and your eyes are still shut, lips parted as whimpers escape your lips. Your knees weaken as he keeps a steady pace. “S’okay love.” He leans in, hot breath attacking your ear as he goes for your neck. You’re panting, and John loves this. When he kisses your neck, you’re on the edge, clutching the desk like it’s a lifeline. Knuckles turning white. You’re sure your hand will leave an impression in the wood, if you can even think about anything else other than the way his hand- oh.

A whimper leaves your lips, stomach clenching up tight. “John- I think I-“

“Shh.. it’s okay. You can let go for me. Show me how you cum, pretty girl.” He breathes. Your chest and stomach are full of butterflies, it feels like millions are swarming your body, you’re sure you’ll burst any minute. The immense amount of pleasure he’s giving you, you can’t take it. His lips attack your neck and while he wants you to be quiet, he doesn’t care. The other part of him wants to hear your moans, when you cum for the very first time. A cry leaves your lips when you cum, pussy clenching around nothing and tears gather in your eyes. John remembers the first time he’d cum too, how intense it felt, how he couldn’t get enough. Sure it was a long time ago but he still remembers it like it were yesterday. So as you pant, hips jumping when he slows his circling fingers, kissing you to hide the pants leaving your lips. If anyone heard you, they didn’t need to hear you anymore.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl f’me.” He breathes. Hands on your hips. You’re stuck in another dimension, shot there from your intense orgasm, floating through cloud 9 as your body comes down. He chuckles, seeing the lost look in your watery eyes. “You okay?” He chuckles. “Y-yeah.” You blush. The tingling between your legs overrides the clarity you have after your orgasm. Heart settling in your chest. The fluttering in your clit was hard to ignore. John can’t help but smile to himself. You were so stuck right now, he’s sure if you tried to walk away your legs would wobble. “Sit down on the bed until you’re calm okay?” He helps you sit down and he sits next to you. “You’re so beautiful.” He breathes. John finds it harder and harder to ignore the own throbbing in his pants. But you’re not ready for that yet. “I’m sorry if I forced myself onto you.”

“No- no you didn’t. I.. I liked it.” You face is burning red. He smiles, just as he’s about to say something else, a knock at his door has him flinching. “Captain, there are beds open in the infirmary now!” Gaz calls to him. “Thank you Sergeant!” He calls back. “Should probably get back to them.” You nod your head. “You can keep the hoodie. Looks so much better on you anyways.” He breathes. You blush, nodding your head with a smile.

———

For the next couple of days, everything seems like a blur. You can’t do anything without thinking about what had happened between the two of you. How he could make you feel like that through your clothing, fingers not exploring you anymore than just the outside of your opening. When you pour coffee, you overfill your cup thinking about it sometimes. The overwhelming sensation of your orgasm sending you spiraling. The couple days after it had happened, you tried it yourself. But it ended in frustrated sighs and a cold shower. Interactions with him seemed completely normal. At least to him they did. You couldn’t look at him the same way. His fingers had done such sinful things to your body and he was so casual about it. Sometimes you’d swallow hard when he’s gripping something tightly. A pen, a gun.

Your thigh maybe?

You have to shake yourself out of it. The part of your brain that knows sex exists wonders what it’d be like to have him inside of you. Pushing your walls apart with his cock, tugging an orgasm from you. It would hurt, it’d sting. But what follows makes the fantasy worth it. An orgasm so good it makes the last look pathetic. Crying and clenching around his cock. Hitting such a high that you never come down from it.

A knock at your door brings you out of your thoughts, and you stand up hurriedly. Opening the door just a crack so you can see who it is. “Captain?” You whisper. It’s late.

“Hey… sorry to bother you so late. It’s just that gash on my back is starting to throb. I’m worried it may be infected.” He trails off. “I don’t want to take away from the medics so I was curious if you would look at it?” He asks. “Yeah. Of course.” You move aside. John quickly notices you’re wearing just his hoodie again. It didn’t look like you had anything on underneath it. “You can sit down on my bed.” John nods his head, he can see that it’s unmade, so he probably disrupted you. “Sorry if I woke you.” He says. “Oh no. You didn’t. I was just getting ready for bed.” You smile. He nods. He tugs his shirt off, and you pull the bandage off. Seeing that it does look infected. “It doesn’t look too bad, but it’s definitely infected. I’ll clean it out and put a new bandage on but you should probably see a medic for some antibiotics.” You tell him. He nods his head. Once he sees you’re finishing up, he decides to make his next move. He reaches out for your thigh, pulling you closer to him. You don’t make a sound, but don’t move away from him either. “You’re so beautiful.” He looks up at you, fingertips sliding up underneath the hem of the hoodie. You breathe hard. “Thank you.” Your heart starts to race and he can hear it.

John knows he could get himself into a lot of trouble being with you. He knows it. But when he brushes his fingertips up your panties and can feel how wet you are for him, every bit of self control he has goes out of the window. As he rubs circles into your clit again, seeing the way your eyes flutter closed and you clutch his arm for dear life. He loses himself even further. “You.. said you’ve never done anything?” You shake your head. He stands up, moving you back, watching your eyes open in frustration as he draws his hand away to do so. “Why don’t you lay on your bed f’me?” He breathes. You look up at him, and he can see the nervousness in your eyes. “Okay.” You agree, sliding back into your bad. “Relax. I just want to take care of you. Make you feel real pretty.” Your cheeks heat up. What the hell have you managed to get yourself into? “Try to stay quiet for me okay?” You nod your head, he pushes his hoodie up over your hips and you look up at the ceiling in nervousness. Nobody had seen you naked, ever. He slides your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side. When he can finally see you, all of you. He has to stop himself from drooling.

“So pretty n wet for me.” He growls. He leans down, hearing you gulp. “W-what are you doing?” You ask. Confused by how he’s getting closer to your opening as he moves himself down the bed. “You trust me?” He breathes. You nod your head. “So relax. Let me take care of you.” You nod your head, tensing up as he lowers himself into you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pinning you to the bed so that no matter how much you squirm, you won’t get away from him.

You still don’t understand what he’s doing until he lowers himself into you completely, tongue gliding up your opening and a gasp leaves your lips. Your arousal is sticky and sweet on his tongue. He wiggles his tongue back and fourth over your clit, knowing how sensitive it is since it’s not been too abused. Your hips buck and you try to move away. The direct pressure has you flinching. He can’t help but chuckle to himself at your reaction. He continues as he normally would, kissing your clit and flicking his tongue over it. Loving how wet you’re getting and the tiny mewls that leave your lips with each flick of his tongue. The way your hips jump with every single lick or touch he makes. He draws away for just a second. Looking up at you, “M’gonna try something okay? If I hurt you, tell me.” You nod your head. Worry flows through you, but your arousal blocks it out. Your opening is already soaking with his saliva and your arousal. He slides two of his fingers over it, when the first is wet enough, he pushes it inside of you. Your eyes widen and you gasp out. You’re tight even on his finger. He has to stop himself from growling out.

When you’re adjusted, he pumps it into you, the sounds that leave your lips are unholy and he has to remind you try to be quiet for him. You’re squirming underneath him, moaning out his name which he adores. It’s music to his ears. He moves his other hand from your thigh, pressing it down onto your pelvis, holding you still for him. The second finger is wet enough, and you’re adjusted to him. He adds the second finger and you freeze, eyes widened as you stare down at him. He lets out a deep chuckle. “You like that hm?” He mumbles. You nod your head. “So pretty.” He mumbles, leaning down and flicking his tongue over your clit while pumping those two fingers into you.

You tilt your head back, pants leaving your lips as you enter a subspace.

Your body is warm, the buzzing in your head is all you can hear as he edges you closer to the best orgasm you’ll have so far. You’re doing so good for him, and he’s reassuring you. But you’re not listening. When he pushes you over the edge, you clamp a hand on your mouth, nearly screaming into it. He smiles into you, not stopping his assault on your sensitive clit. Your legs shiver and he has to hold you still so that he can finish your high, gripping you tightly. The squelch of his fingers entering you is sinful and so loud with how wet you are. The only thing on John’s mind is how he wants to hear you like this when the two of you are alone. Moaning and whimpering out loud for him, it’s a dream. When you finally come down from your high, body relaxing. Your skin is flushed red, warm to the touch. John was surprised the kind of feelings he made you feel. “You okay?” He asks. You nod your head. You’re still a little out of it. He loves it, has you right where he wants you. “You did so good for me pretty girl.” He brushes his fingertips over the bare skin on your stomach. “So so good for me.” He smiles. You notice the bulge he has in his sweatpants. Eyes widening at the size of him. How was he supposed to fit? John catches on quickly to what you’re looking at and smiles. “Hey. Look at me.” He lifts your chin so that you’re looking at him. “Do you feel good honey?” He asks. You nod your head. “Yeah.. really good. I want to make you feel good too John.” You breathe. “Hey. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I want to make you feel good baby.” He mumbles, leaning in to kiss you. His facial hair scratches you so good, the only thought crossing your mind is how good that same scratch feels when he’s buried his face between your legs.

“John.” You mumble. “Yeah sweetheart?” He asks. “What.. what is sex like?” You ask. He smiles. “It’s hard to explain because I’m sure my pleasure feels much different than yours. But whatever you felt just there? Is probably twice as intense depending on who you’re with.” You nod your head. You’re intrigued now. After a few more minutes of talking to John, you start yawning. He smiles at you. You’re so cute. He helps you get back to bed. You clean yourself up and he makes sure you’re comfortable before he leaves. The complete relaxation your body feels sends you into a deep sleep, sleep so good you can’t remember the last time you slept so good.

Over the course of the next couple weeks, your interactions with John are much more intense. When you make eye contact, you lock eyes. You stare longer than you should at each other and when John makes eye contact with you in a meeting, whatever he’s holding he holds in a death grip, knuckles going white with the force of his hold. You’re driving him crazy and you can tell. The tension in the room when the both of you are there is so intense that that others notice how on edge he is. He has dreams about you. You pinned beneath him, moaning for him. He loses so much sleep over you. Nothing he could do himself would even compare to what he’s felt in his dreams about you. But he would never ever force you into anything you don’t want or put you under any kind of pressure. His interactions with you are normal. Small smiles, waves. Some normal chatting during pass times. John wants to come to your room and touch you every night. He wants to make you feel absolutely amazing all of the time, but he knows there’s a such thing as too much. He doesn’t want to pressure you, so he keeps his distance.

You on the other hand, hoped he’d come visit. Wish he’d come by every night. You’ve never thought about sex before, but since he’d touched you the first time, you thought about it constantly. Day dreaming about him, what he must feel like. How gentle he could be. How rough he could be. You’re losing sleep over it, distracted during meetings. You’ve never once thought about having sex with anyone you’ve met in person before, but John successfully changed that for you. You’re laying on your bed, phone in hand. You’re watching something you shouldn’t be. Videos on what to expect when losing your virginity, other videos too. It seems so good, so addicting. Your body feels hot thinking about it. If his fingers felt like that, how good would he feel inside of you? You’d finally get to make him feel good, repay him for him for how good he’s made you feel. The intimacy draws you in. You’re daydreaming about, laying in his bed as he thrusts himself into you. Surrounded by his intoxicating scent, clutching his sheets, hearing him moan out. Thinking about what he’d say.

Your body feels hot, legs sticky from your arousal. You’re not sure how much more you can take. John was on watch, he’d be getting off of it soon. You sit up, sliding a pair of socks on your feet. He has to pass by your room, you’d hear his footsteps. You think to yourself for a second. You pick up his hoodie, folding it up. You wait by your door, listening for his footsteps. After a few minutes, you want to moan out when you can hear his heavy footsteps, boots making them echo. Heat pools between your legs, and you can’t take it anymore. You have to know. You wait a few minutes, opening up your door and peeking out. You don’t see anyone, so you make your way down the hallway to his room. When you get there, you knock at his door. He opens it, smiling when he sees you. “Come on sweetheart.” He smiles. “What can I do for you Hm?” He asks. “I washed this, and wanted to give it back to you.” You smile, handing it over. He stands still for a minute. “Why don’t you keep it Hm? Looks so much better on you anyways.” He smiles. Your stomach fills with butterflies, you didn’t really want to give it back, so hearing this was good. You liked sleeping in it. “Why don’t you come sit down hm?” He pats the bed next to him, so you do. You sit down, and John can see the way you’re clenching your thighs together. He swallows hard. “John… I wanted to ask you something.” You breath, “yeah?”

“I..” you take a deep breath. “I want to know what sex is like.” You breathe. He smiles. “What do you want to know about it?” He asks. “I want to know what it feels like.” You blush. He looks confused for a moment. He freezes for a minute, hand moving to rest on your thigh. “The only way you’ll be able to tell what it feels like is to have sex, Y/N.” You nod your head, eyes meeting with his. “I know.” Those words crash right into him. “Do.. you want me to…?” He hesitates. You nod your head. He looks down. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head. “I’ve thought about it, a lot. It’s what I want.” You take a deep breath. His tongue glides over his bottom lip. “Okay. Get up on the bed love.” You nod your head. John can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt. You never had these issues until he made the first move. He’d definitely need some reassurance before taking anything too far with you.

He felt nervous, a sense of nervousness he hadn’t felt in quite a long time. John tried at relationships before. He’d been with his fair share of women, but none of them ever worked out. None of them ever made him feel the way that you did. Your smile, the color of your eyes. The fact that despite being in some of the worst situations you could possibly think of, you still tried your best to cheer everyone up. Some of the best times John has had in the military is after you joined 141. It seemed dull, like he was just going through the motions. But you came along. You joked with everyone, your smile and laugh were contagious. Maybe you weren’t as innocent as he thought, not in every aspect anyways. You knew how bad a situation was, but ignored it. Tried your best to help the others around you work through it.

John moved slow. Lingering touches, gentle kisses as he moves himself above you. His lips ghosted over yours and when he tugged your shirt off, seeing your completely exposed chest, it started to hit him. This was real, this was happening. This was no dream, no daydream. You were beneath him and you wanted him. He grasps the hem of his own shirt, pulling it off before returning his lips to yours, capturing them in a kiss you may never forget. He rocks his hips into yours, noting the whimper that leaves your lips. He tries to prepare you the best he can. Keeping you occupied with foreplay. Kissing you, nibbling at the skin on your neck. Whispering to you. You start to squirm, getting impatient. He knows you’re ready, but he’s stalling. He doesn’t want you to regret this. He wants to give you as much time as possible to back out in case you’re not ready. He grasps the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs, noticing you aren’t wearing any panties. He takes a deep breath at your exposed mound. Nearly dripping for him.

He reaches down to unbuckle his belt and your eyes follow his hands. Making quick work of his belt and lifting himself off of the bed to remove his cargo pants. Your breath hitches in your throat when he grasps his boxers, tugging them down his legs and revealing himself to you. There wasn’t a single layer of clothing keeping him from you now. Completely raw and exposed to each other, something neither of you would ever forget. You swallow hard when he moves to hover over you once again. Eyes looking deep into yours, waiting for you to stop him. “Are you sure you want this?” He asks. You nod your head, looking down. You wondered how it was supposed to fit, he was massive. John takes a deep breath, lifting himself up until he’s on his knees. He moves himself closer, grasping your thighs and lifting you up to move you closer to him. A gasp leaving your lips as he moves you where he wants you. An action that doesn’t go unnoticed. “You can’t take it back.” He mumbles. “I know. I trust you, John.” You breathe. He nods his head, looking down to where the both of you were about to connect.

The thought of it is like a drug. The thought of being inside of you, sounds so foreign. Yet it’s right here. About to happen. You feel the tip of his cock gliding over your opening. Gathering your arousal on the tip, gliding it over your clit. Your hips buck and a mewl leaves your lips. John bites down on his lip, harder than he means to. He takes in a sharp breath, spitting into his hand and slicking up his shaft, lining himself up with your entrance. “Relax for me okay? I’m going to hurt you, but you have to trust me.” He breathes. You nod up at him, eyes burning into his. The tip of his cock pushes through your folds, stretching your opening. Your nose scrunches up, eyes closing tightly. “It’s okay-“ he breathes.

This seemed unfair. He had to hurt you, someone so sweet and kind. But he felt nothing but the best pleasure he’d ever felt in his life. How tight you felt wrapping around the tip of his cock. A tighter death grip on him with every little bit he sinks into you. He’s trying to keep himself together, wanting nothing more than to make you feel as good as you’re making him feel. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the cries you want to let out. John hates himself for hurting you so badly. He kisses your cheeks, the small tears that slip from your eyes, he’s kissing those away too. “Take a deep breath for me.” He mumbles. You nod your head. Sucking in a harsh breath. John’s hips are halted, not wanting to push you too far. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore than he had to. You shake your head. “You can keep going John.” You breathe. He nods his head. Sinking into you further.

Finally when his hips are flush with yours, he gives you a minute to adjust. He leans down, kissing you. Trying to distract you. “Are you okay?” He asks. You nod your head. He slides out of you, pushing himself into you again. The first few times he does it, it’s a little rough. It stings a little bit. As you adjust to him, it starts to goes away. You tilt your head up, chest starting to move with your breaths that are getting more frequent. “You feeling good sweetheart?” John asks. You nod your head. “Yeah. F-feels good John.” You breathe. You look down between the both of you. Seeing his girthy cock disappearing into you. How on earth it fit, how it could feel so good. Was beyond you. You felt so full of him, a foreign feeling. A moan leaves your lips, propping yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look. “You like to watch sweetheart?” He laughs. Leaning in to kiss your nose. “Mhm.” You breath. “Feels so good.” You pant. Just when you’re about to ask him to pick up the pace, it’s like he reads your mind. Thrusting a little faster, with a little more force. “Oh my god-“ you moan, letting your head fall back into his pillows. And just like your daydreams, you’re there. Tugging at his sheets as he pushes you into a high you know you’ll never come down from. Sweat covered skin, fluids mixing together, a sinful concoction. John chuckles when you moan out, making him clamp a hand over your mouth. “You’ve got to be quiet for me sweetheart.” He smiles. The fact that he could make you feel so good sends shivers down his spine.

Each sensitive spot he brushes up against, he adds more. Nibbling on that sweet spot on your neck he’d found. Fingers gliding across your stomach to rub small circles on your sensitive nub. He kisses down your chest, attacking your nipples with his lips. You’re on cloud 9 again, but it’s more intense. “Can feel you clenching around me sweetheart. You close?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly. Struggling to keep yourself together. John smiles. He rocks his hips into yours at a steady pace. “Rub your clit for me.” He draws his hand back. You take over his place, gently rubbing at it. He keeps the same pace, thrusting right into your spongy spot. You were teetering on the edge. You suck in a sharp breath when you hit your high, and John clamps his hand over your mouth again right as you cum, muffling a moan that leaves your lips. You draw your hand back, clutching the sheets like your life depends on it. Bucking your hips up into him. John rides out your high before his thrusts halt. “Can you handle it?” He asks. You nod your head. You’re dazed as he continues, right on the edge of his own high. The groans that leave his lips are even sexier than you thought, another pit forming in your stomach. “Oh fuck- I’m going to-“ he slides out of you, pumping his cock. You pull him into you, kissing him to muffle his own moans, jumping when you feel his warmth covering your chest and stomach. When he relaxes, hand covered in his cum. He laughs. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.” He breathes. “No no. You weren’t.” You blush. He’s a little embarrassed just how quickly he had finished, but he can’t even remember the last time he’d been with anyone. He stands up, getting you a towel before returning and wiping his cum off of you. Helping you get cleaned up.

When you’re wearing clothes again, he’s got you pulled real close to him. Hand gliding through your hair as you lay next to each other. “Thank you, John.” You look up at him. “For what?” He asks. “For being so gentle with me.” He smiles. “I will always be gentle with you. You already go through enough as is, I don’t need to go and add to it.” He chuckles. “Besides. You’re a sweet girl. And I’m glad you trust me as much as you do.” You lay your head on him again, eyes getting a little heavy. You don’t feel much but relaxed right now, but you’re sure tomorrow will be a different story. When you see the love bites he’s left on your skin. Maybe fingertip sized bruises somewhere on your body. The slight sting between your legs. Sore thighs. The thought of it makes you smile.

Who would’ve thought that out of all of the people you crossed paths with that could’ve taken your virginity, it ended up being your Captain.

I didn’t know if you wanted me to tag you so I’m going to anyways. I hope you like it!

@tamayakii

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut

[greatstormcat]

Into the Fire

TF141 x f!reader

Part 5

Series Masterlist

TW: MDNI 18+, talk of violence, oral f!receiving, forced exhibitionism

Things become tense after Laswell’s announcement, and you do your level best to avoid getting in anyone’s way. Whoever Baron Shepherd is, he is clearly not good news and everyone is on edge as a result. The castle’s stockpiles of supplies are checked and rechecked, food, weapons and of course, healing supplies. It’s a sudden change of intensity that catches you off guard but you find Laswell is a great support despite the demands already on her.

You quickly learn to delegate, to find a few younger members of the household staff who are able to run tasks, fetching and organising, while you prepare for the unknown. Small accidents happen, a crushed finger here when moving barrels, a sliced hand there from the guards training, and you have things to keep you from dwelling too much on matters.

At night, however, your nightmares become a constant battle. The feeling of being watched, of something just out of the corner of your eye waiting for you, constant restlessness plagues you. It becomes normal to quickly cross over and down the hall, to knock softly on Kyle’s door and sleep wrapped in his protective embrace.

He never complains, never turns you away despite how exhausted he is from the increased training and drills the knights are expected to undertake. His hands are rough and calloused, splits on his knuckles and bruises from sparring, but his kisses are no less hungry than before. He makes you feel safe, and you repay him eagerly, as he settles into the space between your thighs.

His chambers echo in the dark of night to the sounds of your crescendo moans, his greedy words and praises, chasing away the things that lurk inside your dreams with a fire born of passion. Falling asleep, with the steady beating of his heart against your ear, comes naturally and without fear afterwards.

The day finally arrives when the Baron’s army nears, and Price sends a messenger to invite him to talks. You peer out of your workspace window overlooking the courtyard, gazing down at Price and the assembled knights on the steps the the main door of the keep. Armour shines in the afternoon light, weapons sheathed but ready. Laswell stands beside Price, her face etched with tired lines. It’s rumoured she hasn’t slept at all since her spies sent word of the invasion, constantly gathering information and moving her field agents to get any advantage possible.

Your eyes move over Price and the others. Kyle and MacTavish have long swords sheathed at their hips, but Simon, skull helm in place, has a monstrous montante, a double handed sword near as tall as he is, strapped to his back and a mace at his hip. Everything about him is designed to send the message that he can, and will, kill.

The gate opens slowly, clanking on the heavy chains used to pull the enormous things open, the sound jolting your attention towards them. The clatter of many hooves on the approach to the gate can be heard over the tense silence in the courtyard, and Shepherd rides through with a small number of his own knights. The bald Baron halts at the bottom of the steps, making no move to dismount. He wears full armour, clearly meant as a display of readiness, as do his other knights. One figure stands out, robed in black and their head covered by a cowl. The horse they ride skitters and shies beneath them, and something about the sight makes your stomach lurch.

“You have some balls, Shepherd,” Price says gruffly. “Take your troops and get out of my lands.”

“That won’t be happening, and you know it,” Shepherd retorts, openly looking over the assembled display of strength in the courtyard and deigning to look unimpressed. “I haven’t come all this way just to turn tail now.”

“Then I’ll have to cut it off,” Price sneers, just as unfazed.

“You forget, John,” Shepherd drawls, a mirthless smile crinkling the skin around his eyes, “I have The Shadow himself in my pocket now. If I bring him into play you won’t stand a chance. Your entire little domain would be wiped out. Is that what you want?” He lifts a hand and beckons forth cloaked rider, the horse’s bit flecked with foam and its eyes wide with distress.

“You brought that fucking lich into my lands, my castle?” Price roars, stabbing his fingers at the black cowled figure before taking a breath and regaining his composure. “You’re talking about murdering thousands of innocent people,” Price grits out between clenched teeth, his fists clenching as though resisting the urge to lash you here and now.

“Casualties of war, nothing more,” the bald man replies, leaning back in his saddle and smiling smugly. “It's your choice, submit to me or condemn your people,” his eyes are cold as he speaks, as though he wants Price to oppose him just to give him the excuse he wants to rain down horror and bloodshed. “You’ve got a week to get your affairs in order, and then I’m coming for you.”

Price steps forward, voice low and deadly.

“You wont get away with this,” he snarls. Shepherd looks around the courtyard at the assembled knights, his eyes catch yours through the window momentarily and your blood runs cold.

“I doubt it,” he says finally, and pulls his horse’s reins, leaving through the gate with his riders. The cowled figure turns his fretful horse slowly, the animal clearly distressed by the creature on its back, the figure’s head turning this way and that as if searching for something. A cold, creeping sensation slithers over your skin but it is quickly countered by a burning anger that isn’t yours.

He looks up at you, eyes looking into yours instantly, and the smile that spreads across his pale face reveals unnaturally sharp teeth before moving through the gate. When the echo of hooves dies down Price sighs deeply.

“Kate, we need all the help we can get,” Price says, pointing his finger at her. “Get me Alejandro, now.”

“Yes, My Lord,” she replies and turns on her heel, heading back inside the keep without waiting another moment. You turn from the window, heart racing at the bizarre encounter and hearing Farah's words: what has risen with you?

Two days later the Harbour Master, Nikolai, stands on the quay watching as a ship carefully negotiates the breakwaters at the mouth of the harbour, its sails snapping in the fresh breeze. You try to ignore the way MacTavish’s kilt does the same as he stands at the edge of the wall, one leg braced up on a iron bollard. Nik bellows instructions to the dockhands, his voice booming as it carries, having them ready to berth the vessel. You stand with Kyle, MacTavish and Alex, waiting for the ship. Laswell had told you they needed a healer after a crewman was injured on their way here, so you rode down with them.

“So these are friends of yours?” Alex asks Kyle casually. You've grown fond of Alex and his easy going manner.

“Yeah, Price helped Alejandro and Rudy out a few years ago. Since then Price allows them a certain amount of leeway with their activities in exchange for answering his call when needed.”

“Huh,” Alex grins under his moustache, “so he’s got pirates on the books? Smart move.”

“Price is always two steps ahead,” Kyle replies with pride, “that's why we’re here.”

The ship slowly pulls up alongside the quay, ropes thrown to the hands on the harbour wall, and a man stands on the railing holding onto the rigging and grinning.

“Hermano!” MacTavish calls out to the man on the ship, a huge grin splitting his face, and receives an equally enthusiastic welcome back. As soon as the ship is moored the gangplank is deployed and the smiling man jumps ashore, making his way to MacTavish with long, easy strides. He wears dark, loose fitting trousers tucked into sturdy boots, and a dark hide vest that leaves his muscular arms exposed. A belt with a short sword circles his hips.

“Es tan bueno verte de nuevo, hermano,” he says, gripping MacTavish’s wrist and pulling him against his chest briefly. He embraces Kyle just as fondly, before being introduced to Alex.

“I wish it was under better circumstances,” Kyle says, and the man nods somberly.

“Agreed, but you know we wouldn’t turn you away. We owe you a debt,” he says, and you snort softly at the mention of debts, drawing his attention inadvertently. He glances from you to the others, a smirk on his face.

“And who is this?” He takes your hand and bows, placing a quick kiss on your knuckles before anyone can say a word and your eyes dart to Kyle. His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say or do anything. Behind him, however, MacTavish covers his chortle with a cough.

“The bonnie lass is our new healer,” he explains, and pats Kyle on the shoulder roughly, “and Sir Kyle’s… eh… companion.”

Alejandro grins at you as he hears this, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Oh? Well in that case I am honoured to meet you,” he doubles down and kisses your knuckles again, clearly intent on getting a reaction from Kyle.

“Alejandro, stop drooling on her,” a woman’s voice calls out from the ship. Alejandro’s charming expression twists and sours as he hears her and he turns. A man and a woman descend the gangplank, both dressed in similar garb to Alejandro. The woman is shorter, her dark hair cut short and tattoos covering the exposed skin of her arms. Her hips swap as the saunters down the plank, a confident smile on her face.

“There ya are Rudy!” MacTavish calls the man with her, and he smiles and greets him warmly. He isn't as tell as Alejandro, but just as solid in build.

“This is Valeria, she joined a few months ago,” Alejandro explains, his voice carrying a level of distrust as he indicates the woman joining them.

“She’s the healer we asked Laswell for,” he explains, stepping back as she locks her eyes onto you. Valeria moves to your side and puts her arm around your shoulders, her hip pressed against yours as though greeting an old friend, and she begins to take you towards the gangplank.

“Cariña,” Valeria says sweetly, shooting a look over her shoulder at Alejandro, “come with me and let them catch up. I will take you to our crewman.”  You cannot help but notice how his brow creases as he watches you leave with the woman, but her pull is insistent and you are soon making your way below deck with her. The air is dank and foetid below deck, and the only light comes from hanging lanterns suspended from the low beams. 

You’re glad that Sir Alex follows you, as something about this woman makes you feel like a mouse staring at a smiling viper waiting for it to strike. You’re taken to a man lying in a hammock, his arm splinted and his face ashen and drawn.

“He took a bad fall from the rigging,” Valeria explains, standing close enough to you that her breath tickles the side of your neck. You try to focus on the injured sailor, but she doesn’t move back her eyes on you constantly.

“So, uh, how many crew are on this ship?” Alex interrupts, clearly seeing your discomfort and trying to draw Valeria’s attention away from you. She turns sharp eyes on him, a slight toss of her head as she does so, before answering him. Thankfully he keeps her talking, getting her to tell him about the crew and the cargo they’re carrying. His mind is clearly quick and sharp, knowing how to keep her occupied. With her focus diverted, you concentrate on the injured man, quickly, so you can leave.

You soon leave the ship and rejoin Kyle who is still talking with Alejandro, moving beside him to distance yourself from Valeria, and Alex takes position on the other side of you.

“Come to the keep this evening, Price wants to have you at his table,” Kyle says with a final shake of hands.

“We will be there,” Alejandro accepts, and you follow the other to the horses to ride back up the hill to the castle.

“Are you okay?” Kyle asks as you ride beside him, finally having been given a horse of your own.

“I’m fine, just got an odd feeling from that woman,” you reply, trying to give him a smile and failing.

“Look, we’re heading to the training grounds to meeting with Simon. Do you want to come with us?” Kyle asks softly. He doesn’t demand you go with him as he might have done before, but you can tell it’s what he’d rather you did. To be honest, it’s exactly what you want right now.

“Please,” you nod. “If that’s okay?”

“It is,” he says and you hear his relief. You ride with the knights around the side of the curtain wall to a large grassy area where archery butts and other equipment is set up. You quickly spot Simon, larger than anyone else by a head, giving instructions to younger knights as they practice. Steel flashes and glints in the bright sunlight as they cut and parry, and you panic. They’re only wearing padded clothing and steel helmets.

“Aren’t they going to kill each other? They’re barely wearing any armour,” you observe, watching as one young man catches his opponent on the arm. You tense, waiting for it to slice through the padded gambeson.

“Those are just feders, training swords,” Kyle explains with a grin. “They’re completely blunt, but still leave a bitch of a mark behind.” He winces as though from recent memory. The young knight twists with the impact of the blow but just shakes his arm and carries on.

“That’s still going to bruise him,” you mutter, earning a chuckle from MacTavish.

“Builds character, cannae take soft bairns into battle,” he grins, before shrugging out of his shirt and your eyebrows raise when he stands there in just his kilt and boots. They all do the same, and heat creeps up your neck and face as you realise this is how they practice, without any padding or protection.

You sit and watch once Simon joins them, as the four men begin their own training, simple drills to begin with cycling through a series of cuts with their own blunted swords. Swords raised then swept down as they cut through the air and then again in another direction for several minutes. Then they pair up and begin to spar, muscles bunching and shifting as they dodge, deflect and counter with dizzying speed. Sweat beads and runs down their skin, the sun blazing down onto them and adding to their exertion. 

They stop after a few hours, and walk with you safely in their midst back to the safety of the castle.

“Can you use a sword?” Simon asks you thoughtfully.

“No, but I can shoot a bow well enough to hunt with,” you offer hopefully. He nods, lips tight as if this is barely enough in his eyes.

“Better than nothing I guess,” Kyle sighs, he looks concerned at the idea of you fighting at all.

“Your best defence is always to run, no matter what weapons you have to hand though,” Simon continues, his dark eyes serious in his scarred face. “If anyone, or anything, comes after you, just run.” The way he says ‘anything’ makes you uncomfortable.

“I will keep that in mind,” you say, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. It’s cooler inside the granite walls of the keep and you let Kyle guide you down the stairs behind the others, soon recognising you are heading towards the bathhouse. The men discuss their training, but Kyle is quiet, his jaw tight as you glance at him and you turn to ask what’s bothering him just as you reach the door where Laswell had guided you on your first day here, which stands open.

Kyle pulls you through the open door slamming it closed behind you in the startled faces of the others. Before you can breathe another breath he presses you against the solid wood with a kiss. 

“Pulled a favour with Laswell,” he murmurs against your lips. Dropping his shirt and unfastening the laces of your bodice as his tongue delves into your mouth. In a few moments he has you naked and pinned to the door, the warm air of the bath house ghosting across your skin. 

His mouth is hot and wet against your skin, leaving kisses and small bites in its wake as he moves down, kneeling before you and lifting one of your plush thighs over his shoulder. You know his destination, and a shudder runs through you in anticipation, the excitement pooling in your cunt.

“I saw you looking at the others,” he growls between kisses. “Just need you to remember who you owe your life to.”

The first flick of his tongue against your throbbing clit nearly has you falling on top of him, if it weren’t for the grip he has on your hips and his strength supporting your thigh on his shoulder. Voices echo from the other room, and you suddenly flush realising that they will hear you if you make too much noise.

His tongue moves languidly against your clit, your thighs trembling as he draws out the delicious friction against it. Soft moans and gasps fall from your lips, and you fight to keep quiet. He pulls away, and you stifle a needy whine as you look down at him. His mouth glistens and his dark eyes burn up at you.

“You’re gonna let them hear you when you come,” he says, steel in his tone. “So they know you’re mine.”

A thick finger slides too easily inside you, your body already begging to be filled by him in any way it can be, and you feel the groan he makes against your clit. You clench around his finger, already dangerously high on arousal, and whimper unapologetically when he sucks on your engorged clit. His finger moves in and out of you, timed perfectly with his licks and sucks. 

But it is the addition of this second finger that makes your knees weak and breaks your silence. He pumps them into you, refusing to rush you to your end, your harsh breathing echoing around the daft stones of the bathhouse. All you can hear is the rushing of blood in your ears and your own groans as he fucks you with his hand, tongue circling and teasing your clit.

You can’t help but moan his name, riding the pleasure higher and higher until you cannot contain it any longer. With a sharp cry you come on his fingers, desperate whimpers following as you ride out the spasm while he works you through your orgasm.

“That’s my girl,” he purrs, lowering your leg and helping you into the soothing water of the tub. He quickly joins you and holds you to his chest as you float in the heady afterglow of your orgasm. The two of your take time to enjoy the warmth of the water together, sharing kisses and gentle touches before the chill of the cooling bath forces you to wash and get out.

Later, the household gather in the main hall for the evening meal. Price welcomes Alejandro and Rudy, but Valeria is noticeably absent. For that, you feel distinctly grateful, not wanting to be near her any longer than necessary.

“This is wonderful,” Rudy says in awe as he looks over the food heaped on the long table. “We’ve had too many days of dried meat out at sea. You eat like kings here on land.” Alejandro rolls his eyes at him with a smile.

“Price keeps us well fed,” Simon agrees, tearing into a piece of beef on the table before him.

“Aye, Kyle had plenty to eat earlier,” MacTavish winks at you, “but the lass needs to regain her strength.”

Laughter erupts around the table, Kyle punching the Highlander’s arm without malice. But the moment is cut short as a blast of a horn sounds through the castle, smiles freezing instantly.

“What’s going on?” Simon bellows, standing up so urgently his chair clatters to the flagstones. A guard rushes to respond, his face a mask of horror.

“The gates have been opened! We don’t know how, but Shepherd’s men are in the courtyard!”

-----------------------------------------------------

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#medieval!au #knight!price #knight!ghost #knight!gaz #knight!soap #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost call of duty #sergeant kyle gaz garrick #alex keller #rudy parra #alejandro vargas #valeria garza #kate laswell #general shepherd #nikolai cod #kyle gaz garrick smut #price call of duty #soap modern warfare #alejandro cod #rudolfo parra #rudy cod #valeria mw2 #phillip graves #graves cod #simon ghost riley cod #soap john mactavish #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader

[indigosunsetao3]

This one took a good amount of thinking...but I am happy with the result.

"Johnny!" You call as you stroll down the beach, a net bag in your hand jangling full of the things you had found on the shore. The ocean was far too cold for swimming this time of year but it never kept you from strolling down it at sunrise and sunset to see what you could find.

Soap jolts from his spot, disoriented as his hands scramble against the woven blanket. When had he fallen asleep? He glances around the area to figure out where he is before he remembers.

You had dragged him from the flat with a declaration that you needed fresh air. And maybe you could stop at the cafe on the way home for a pastry. Or the bookstore. Maybe even the antique shop. He had laughed at your growing list but joined you anyway, even if he felt a little off kilter.

Coming home after a long deployment always put him in a bit of a fog. His body coming out of the constant fight mode and learning to just relax again. It was always the same the first few days, exhaustion weighing heavy on him so he catnapped whenever the opportunity arose. Though passing out on the beach was a new one for him.

"Johnny," you call again, still down by the shore staring at him.

The sun is to your back, too bright to see your features as Soap pushes up. He can tell you're smiling though, tell by the tone in your voice and the way you have your head cocked to the side.

"Coming bonnie," Soap replies as he stands, his legs shaking a bit. He almost felt feverish, the cold of the ocean air going right down to his bones yet he was hot to the touch as he rubbed his eyes. Fuck if he was sick after being away so long he was going to be mad, he only had a few days home. Right? How long until his next job? How long had he even been home for?

--we need to get him to the evac.

Soap whipped around at the words. He recognized the voice but it sounded far away, as if it were coming to him from underwater. Maybe he really was sick. It would explain why he had passed out on the beach and now he was hearing Price in his head. His flashbacks only ever came to him in his sleep and he certainly felt like he was going to topple over.

"Love," you say suddenly right next to him. When did he get down to the shoreline? The water was seeping into his shoes, his pants, wet all the way up his calves.

Your smile is sweet, soft, as you reach up to gently grab his face to get him to focus on you. You can see the confusion in his eyes as they dart around as if looking for something to ground him. His hands come up to grab your wrists as he finally focuses on you, his breathing rapid and shallow. As if in a panic, or that he can't catch his breath at all.

"You always said you'd come home to me. No matter what, nothing could keep you away," you state as your thumbs run along his cheek bones. "And I need you to come home to me again. We have too many things to do, too many plans for you to give up now." You lean in and give him a gentle kiss, which he returns with fervor, though his body is trembling with exertion against the ocean waves which have reached large swells knocking you both as you attempt to stand.

"Wake up love, and come home to me." Your final words are a command, the tone no longer soft but an order for your soldier.

This is going to hurt Johnny.

Ghost? Soap attempts to turn his head to look but your grip is tight on his face before a searing pain explodes in his thigh. What the fuck is going on? He groans as you hold him and the look of concern on your face is almost enough crack his pounding heart. He tries to lock in on you, to watch you, but the image flashes.

He's not on the beach at home in Scotland.

He's in the back of a truck with Ghost barking orders at him as he digs around in his leg. It floods back to him, what happened, where he really was. He was on a mission, half a world away from you where you were safely tucked away in your shared flat. Asleep at this hour he's sure.

Soap tries to shift on the truck bed but hands hold him tight as they press against his chest to keep the bleeding under control.

"Almost there," Gaz states as he shoves more gauze against Soap's chest wound. "Tell us more about your bird, been mumbling about her the whole ride," he grins though Soap can see it's forced. A tactic to keep him awake as Ghost snarls and wipes bloodstained fingers against his thighs.

"I've got to get home to her," Johnny manages to ground out before yelping with pain as Ghost twists a tourniquet tighter on his leg. "She gave me a direct order and she's worse than Price when I don't listen."

Hundreds of miles away, you're startled awake by your phone ringing. At this time of night, a phone call from Price was never one you wanted to get. Middle-of-the-night calls were always bad news, worse news when someone you cared about had a dangerous job. Your hands shake as you accept the call, but the first words you hear are:

"He's alive, thanks to you."

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #the gift of gifs #answered asks #ask game #send me asks

[hobies-princealbert]

Head Empty. Thinking about high!plug!fontaine n high!reader. He’d def be the plug that flirts with her and gives her deals and one day he asks her to smoke wit him for free and they just start making out in his car listening to music. 😱😱😱

gurl the new pfp frightened me a bit ngl 💀💀

but coming right up! i took some creative liberties cuz i kinda forgot to double check what your ask said. im srry its just once i got that ball rolling, i couldn't stoppp ( ´,_ゝ`)

plug! fontaine x high! reader | (the nsfw is below the cutting off)

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎

♤ taine wasn't exactly your first choice for a plug. he was a well known dealer in the glen, but the things he was known for made you hesitant. he was a no nonsense type dealer, he gives a price, you pay on time. if you can't do as simple as that then you wasting his time. and knowing you were tight on money sometimes, you decided it best to stick to the plugs you knew.

♤ but twelve wack ass joints later, you found yourself sitting in a certain green cadillac that you never thought you'd set foot in. both of you sat in silence for a few seconds, only a few feet away from each other.

♤ you patiently watched as he tried to light his spliff with the faulty lighter. growing more frustrated, he soon tossed the lighter onto the dash, then turned to you expectantly. and as if you could read his mind, you pulled your lighter and held it up for him to take.

♤ he stared at you for a bit, you felt as if you body was on fire. he had a pair of the scariest eyes you've ever seen. and he kept those eyes on you the entire time. not once looking away.

♤ you felt him wrap around your wrists. he pulled your hands closer to his face. your entire body became solid rock. all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears. the grip on your wrists were slack, giving you enough leeway to pull back if you wanted to. but something about the way he looked at you, made you stay still for him.

♤ he motioned for you to light the joint. you obliged. the orange glow of the flame made his eyes even more sinister. god he's terrifying. hot but, terrifyingly hot. once it was lit, he leaned back and let your wrist fall from his grasp. he took two puffs before he passed it over. " 'ere. take it. ' tell me if 'sgood enough."

♤ your breath was shaky as you inhaled the smoke. it was strong, definitely would get you fucked up in less than a minute. you handed it back to him. "you barely took tha' shi'. come 'ere."

♤ he placed the blunt back between his lips, as he settles one of his hands behind your head. "was he gonna gimme a shotgun right now. he's not....is he?" you let your brain rambled for bit till a low "open" brought you back.

♤ taine never does this, especially with cilents. but he took an interest in you. you seemed nervous, unlike most of his clients that just want their quick fix. and it helps that you weren't bad looking either. kinda cute in fact.

♤ but that didn't mean he wasn't fed up from watching your pretty little lips not taking his blunt properly. that shit ain't cheap. but you took the shot gun gave you pretty well. he saw how the smoke made your eyes a little teary, so he wiped a couple away before he let you go.

♤ you stared at him for a bit. he found you amusing that's for sure. and while he was trying to subside a smirk, you were trying to calm the ache between your legs. god you needed to get out this car before you did something you regret. but would you regret it? from the way his pants seemed to be stiffening, he probably felt the same way.

♤ reaching into his jacket he pulled a small plastic baggy,,that looked to contain at least 5 grams. your eyes went wide. this was way more than the agreed amount, that's at least $45 bucks, you didn't have that much on you. shit shit shit.

♤ "easy ma, this one's on the house" and with that you became one of his regulars. and his favorite at that.

♤ of course you became his favorite. i mean he'd never let a customer come over his house. much less one sit on his couch, smoke his blunt and watch a show on his tv.

♤ he certainly wouldn't let a customer stretch their legs across his lap either. or let one inch closer to him than appropriate, to the point where they made it onto his lap. he didnt mind, it definitely did help him relieve the ache between his legs. and he wasn't opposed to the way you let him kiss alongside your jaw, and even suck a couple marks into your skin.

♤ no regular of his ever let him pull down their shorts and toss them to god knows where. he's never gotten on his knees and licked a fat stripe along over their panties. never has he had to pull said panties to the side just so he could finally get a good look at how at your cunt.

♤ you were the only one who's clit he's mouthed at till his jaw ached. he didn't stop till he had to wrap his hands around your hips to hold you still.

♤ never once as taine let a regular, eagerly lick his precum from the slit to the point where he'd lull his head back everytime he felt their tongue dip into his slit. or had one force his cock into their mouth till the tip hit the back of their throat. and they stayed deepthroating him till he finally released. or had one lick up every last drop of cum that could find. no matter if it some was on his stomach, chest, thigh or on their face. he's never given a regular a couple puffs of his joint as a reward for sucking him to completion.

♤ he wondered if his weed made you like this. was it so good that it made you do your best to take him to the hilt, even though you could barely take a proper breath. probably it was the reason he'd take a minute or two cause the way your walls squeezed him, he swore he was gonna cum inside you right then and there.

♤ was his shit so good that it made you cry out his name and claw at his back with every thrust. had him having to slap your tits whenever you looked too far gone. make him tell you to how good you were, or that from the way your walls started to push him out, you were close. make him coo at you whenever you finally came, so you knew how proud he was. maybe it was why you bared the overwhelming sensation that your release brought so he could reach his edge. maybe that what made you mumbled about him cumming inside you.

♤ tempting but he preferred to release on your cunt so you could reach your hand down and desperately collect his droplets into your mouth. god he loved when you did that. he especially when you parted your slit so he could get one last lick before he let you suck it off his tongue.

♤ never had he had a regular make him feel that good to the point he gave them free weed.

#fontaine x reader #they cloned tyrone #fontaine they cloned tyrone #fontaine x black reader #☆° via writes °☆ #fontaine smut

[roachesbf]

Heyy i hope your doing ok!

I wanted to request a Soap x male reader, its very similiar to your rabbit!Rudy x Jessica!male reader story but hear me out 👀

Male reader is hot af like dude be making people stare at him jaw dropped and shi, not only that but he smart as hell too, dude graduated from Harvard in the highest honour, wealthy af and he strong af too AND hes a total sweetheart to Soap but he abit cold to strangers.

So basically male reader was somehow able to convince Price to let him visit the base and everybody staring at him like "zamnn👀👀" but then male reader sees Soap and his cold and stoic expression completely melts and he just runs up to Soap and hugs tf out him and gives Soap some of the food he cooked for him and is just being cheesy af to Soap and then a strangers aprouches Male reader and tries to ask him something and Male reader goes "what😐" and then immediatly goes back to baby-ing Soap.

PLEASE I WOULD CRY TEARS OF JOY IF YOU DO THIS🙇🙇🙇

Soap Headcanons: Ft absolute whipped Male!S/O

Somehow someway you’ve managed to secretly sneak your way into Price's spot of number one favorite. Being able to easily convince him to visit base and get a chance to see everyone again*cough*SOAP*cough*. He obviously knows why you want to go, practically everyone does but he doesn’t have it in his old man heart to say no so you always get your way. You always use the excuse of helping out like doing paperwork, or maybe training new recruits but you never do any of that!! Everyone respects you because of all your achievements…that's why it feels so wrong to tell you off when you’re caught babying Soap, not because you should be getting to work, but because they wish it was them.

It’s always awkward when you first show up on base because who wouldn’t want to talk to such eye candy, but at most you’ll give them the cold shoulder, or just tell them what they need before turning away from the conversation. Even when you’re sitting anywhere, you’ll impatiently tap your foot, as if you’re waiting for something/someone…AND THAT’S BECAUSE YOU ARRE, the entire time you’ll wait for him but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna be happy about it. It’s an absolute 180 because now you’re being all bashful and presenting him with homemade food and treats, holding him against you as you complain about how lonely it is without his loud personality. Soap is probably a physical affection type of lover, so he’ll have you in a headlock while singing praises on how much he missed you as well. 

When he's back and the two of you are together, he insist on training. Of course this gains the attention of others, and you feel the need to shoo them away, insisting that they must be here to oogle your man... "Laddie, Yer heid’s full o’ mince if you think they're checking me out??" and then you get offended because why WOULDN'T they want to check out your totally amazing boyfriend.

He’s completely oblivious to your favoritism as well, he acknowledges that you might like him more than most people because you’re together, but not to the extent that other people say. Even if he does witness this attitude change, he thinks it's the funniest thing in the world and will pretend to not notice when people complain about your favoritism. Price will complain about your attitude towards others, telling Soap to knock some sense into you and all he’ll say is “ I dinnae ken what you mean captain??”

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x male reader #male reader #x male reader #call of duty x male reader #male!reader #x reader #cod headcanons #soap x male reader #soap x reader #soap headcanons #request :) #tbh i was never going to write about soap bc of his accent #i dont wanna fuck it up thats all #anwyas hope you guys missed me jkjkjk #I realize i dont exactly make the gender obvious in this but like #its their in spirit yknow #like this one goes out to the gays #I just realized you hoped I’m doing okay #I’m in love with you now

[deathmetalunicorn1]

What if... RoR guys fall for a sassy/psycho reader after this conversation?

RoR guys: Why are you trying to sell me your house/car for 1 dollar?

Sassy reader: Oh, that. My boyfriend cheated on me, you see. He is stuck on (any place you want to imagine) and asks me to sell the house/car and send all the money to him. So, I'm sending it for 1 dollar and send him all the money I got from the sell.

RoR guys: (amused but also falling in love)

Can you do Odin, Poseidon, Hades and Beelzebub for th gods side and Qin Shi Huang, Nikola, Simo Hayha (if can) and Leonidas for human side?

-It was rather odd when (Love) walked up, seeing your boyfriend’s fancy sports car that he was always taking care of, a for sale on it but you were the one sitting beside it.

-A grin slowly spread across his lips, seeing the sign said ‘For Sale $1’.

-You didn’t look bothered, you looked pleased with yourself as he looked at you, “So what’s all this about?”

-You smiled warmly up at him, “I’m selling my boyfriend’s car. He said he needs the money since he’s stuck in Cuba- where he said he was going to be visiting his mother where she was vacationing for her birthday. Turns out he went to hook up with not one but two other women! So he asked me to sell his car and send him the money.”

-He couldn’t help but snort in laughter before quickly dissolving into roaring laughter, holding his gut, hearing your plan while you looked quite pleased with yourself. He wiped a tea from his eye, “Oh gods- you are a genius Y/N!” you puffed up your chest a bit from his praise, “I know~” which made him laugh again. He reached a hand down to you, “May I take you out? We can discuss your sale price over coffee.” You instantly smiled, taking his offered hand, “I like the way you think!” he chuckled warmly as you went out to enjoy yourself, since you were now single.

            -Qin Shi Huang, Leonidas, and Hades

-He tried, badly, to hide his grin, which only grew as you smiled brightly up at him as you hopped to your feet, “So you interested?” he was quickly laughing, for once, which did make you grin brightly, feeling proud of yourself. Once he was composed he handed you the dollar, before destroying your ex’s car, using his strength and ability to do so, which made your eyes sparkle brightly before he turned, “Will you allow me to take you out since you’re single now?” you turned, a bit surprised before you instantly beamed, agreeing as you took his hand and he led you both away from the shouldering car.

            -Odin, Poseidon, and Beelzebub

-He tried not to grin, but hearing about how you were treated, being cheating on so coldly, it was hard not to, “Remind me never to piss you off.” You just beamed up at him, not at all bothered, “Nah- I don’t think you ever would. I was going to be nice about it, but when he video called me from his hotel room I heard the other two women in the back.” He smiled softly down at you, “Are you all right?” you were surprised that he was concerned about you and you smiled softly up at him, “I will be- glad I’ll no longer be the third wheel to his car!” he smiled humorlessly before he offered you a hand, “May I have the honor of taking you out? We can go get something to eat if you want?” he wasn’t expecting you to take his hand and you smiled instantly, “Let’s go!” he knew he would never hurt you like that, he wanted you to be happy, always.

-Nikola and Simo

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror qin shi huang #ror leonidas #ror hades #ror poseidon #ror odin #ror beelzebub #ror nikola tesla #ror simo hayha

[blingblong55]

In the air- 141

Based on a request:

BLINGY LOOK https://twitter.com/david_kennedy11/status/1703563780523696558/photo/4 I CANT ANYMORE IM GOING THROUGH THE SAME PHASE I NEED THIS IN WRITING NOW KSHFALHLHFKLASHFLHAL (If it don't bother you, pls a fic of the ppl in the tweet on reacting to you buying smelling a candle that smells like them/their fav scent) --- GN!Reader, fluff, established!relationship

As your boyfriend was still on deployment, you grew to miss his scent around your room or flat more and more. Recently, you found a small business that did custom-made candles, so of course you ordered one. When it arrived, it sat pretty on a shelf in your room, candle-lit evening, you in bed and cuddled to your pillows and blankets. He walked in, ready to surprise you when he smelt himself as he approached your room. You weren't aware of his presence until you heard his boots being taken off and placed under your bed.

Soap:

The smell was known all too well, and he absolutely grinned when he noticed the label on the candle. "John MacTavish." it read.

It brought comfort, that his partner would do this because they missed him and that his scent roamed the flat when he was away.

"Yer did this for me?" His big strong arms wrap around you. A little nod from his lover sends the best butterflies to his stomach. It was the best way to flatter him.

He had to admit, he blushed really hard when you went looking for your laptop to show him the website.

It was as if he was a little boy, blushing and having this inside feeling of utter happiness

He actually made a mental note of the website/seller to order one with your scent, a small size of course for when he was away and missed you.

Gaz:

The second he wrapped his arms around you, he noticed the smell but what was more notable was the candle with a sticker of his name.

"Kyle Garrick." He looked at you and then you shyly looked away. "Love, what's this?" he picked up the candle, taking a smell and smiling.

His lover, the prettiest thing in this world, has a candle of his smell. It was cute, his blush and how he too shied away.

He didn't let go, he couldn't let go of you for an hour. He knows how much you missed him and to know it went this far to get a candle, yeah this man was over the moon.

Like Soap he too knew he must buy a candle with your scent, it would bring comfort after flying upside down helicopters or having as run-in with cartels

After all, he and you, whether any one liked it or not, would have the home you created smelling like the other.

Price:

He wasn't much for showing too many flustered faces but this? oh boy did it send him to a different world

Like Gaz, he didn't let go of you for a while, mainly because this was how he rubbed his smell on you and because as you were squished by his arms, he made sure to memorise the website/seller name.

He is the kind of man who really does take the small gestures or things that someone goes out their way for very seriously, it means more and it's far more special

"Do I really smell like that, darling?" He looks over the candle, "Johnathan Price" the label red, only very few people knew his actual name and having it displayed in this room was an honour.

Ghost:

When I tell you he felt like the most special and important person, I mean it. "Simon Riley" proudly stuck to a candle glass, a grin on his scarred face

Kisses upon kisses, "Oh my love," he said between kisses. The scent he knew best, mainly because you always told him that it was your favourite on him.

This for him was a reminder that he does and always will have someone to wait for him back home, his little love.

That night, you saw his soft side, the one that loves to overexaggerate being sick and the one who pouts and lets you baby him

And like the others, he too will have a candle order arriving with your name and the smell of his comfort place, you.

Tags: @anonymuslydumb @liyanahelena

#cod fluff #cod soap #cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod modern warfare #cod price #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #mw2 #mwii #kyle garrick imagine #kyle garrick #cod x you #cod x y/n #cod x gn!reader #john price fanfic #price fanfiction #price fluff #soap mactavish #soap cod #soap fluff #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost fluff

[buddiebeginz]

If they are keeping Lou around for any part of season 8 the show has to put an end to the cameo nonsense. Some of the Buck/Oliver takes that are starting to make the rounds are next level insane. I saw one scolding Oliver for making Lou do all the promoting of the ship. Another post said the writers needed to up Buck's game because he's not at the level of commitment yet that Tommy is being written (wtf when were these episodes). And yet another post scolding Oliver for promoting Buddie and Buck for continuing to spend time with Eddie.

They are taking these PAID (you paid him to say this shit) videos and making them canon. No part of anything he's saying is canon. Firstly, he wouldn't be allowed to tell them any actual canon facts and secondly Oliver/Buck is the character/actor the show gives a shit about. He's encouraging this nonsense and it's gross. Him promoting himself is fine, it's low-key cringe given the fact the other half of the ship is silent but you do you, babe. Oliver's silence is what's pissing his fans off. Seriously tell me you're new to Captain Starks ways without telling me you're new. He promotes no ship but the Buddie ship, canon or not. These people are here for Lou. When he goes, happy for him to take them with him.

I'm not sure why they keep letting him do those cameos especially after he pissed people off when he said T*mmy being homophobic and racist to Hen and Chim was just teasing. He also talked about people recognizing him in Thailand in the AH interview and did this fake stereotypical asian accent. 🤦‍♀️He really needs a better agent and some media training because they'd for sure tell him to knock that shit off.

I could see the cameos being fun to do a few times when he first came back to the show even to garner excitement about B/T and T*mmy but the fact that he's done so many now and has even raised the price just makes him look desperate for attention. And like you said he gives all these headcanons about T*mmy in his videos that his obsessive fans have taken for absolute fact. We would never hear the end of it if Buddie fandom was paying Ryan for videos like that.

I agree with you that a majority of B/T stans are here first and foremost for T*mmy and Lou not Buck and Oliver. I still can't believe that a lot of them used to be Buddie shippers. I think everyone should be able to ship what they want including multishipping but I don't get how some of them dropped a ship they were seemingly invested in for years for the nothing that is B/T.

That part of fandom also loves to call us delusional and say we're seeing only what we want to see but a lot of times we're just pointing out what's actually happening. Like in the recent episode T*mmy was being a downer to Buck's enthusiasm (which has basically become the norm for them). The camera also paned to Eddie after Buck got his award not T*mmy. Buck chose to run off to Eddie's after work not to T*mmy's. These are things the show is literally showing us not just stuff we're imagining.

It's similar with Oliver. They can come up with all the reasons in the world why he's never promoted B/T through this entire season but it doesn't matter because he still hasn't and likely won't. I've seen them say Oliver doesn't post anything about B/T or Lou to avoid dealing with the hate or to not upset Buddie fans or to protect Lou. The thing is though Oliver has left social media before when he's had issues and could again if he wanted to. He's also been dealing with homophobic comments since Buck came out but he's never shied away from talking about Buck coming out and has even addressed the hate on his insta.

Oliver liked a couple of B/T pieces of art when the story first happened but I think that was more to support the bi Buck storyline and the artists than anything else. Multiple times during this season he's liked Buddie art (including a tattoo which he commented on three times) he's also posted Buddie related and Ryan stuff on his stories. If he wanted to show support to Lou or B/T he could easily post on his stories where people can't comment. B/T stans can think what they want but it's clear Oliver doesn't promote any of that because he's rooting for Buddie harder than anyone. I think he knows B/T isn't going to be around forever and he's trying not to lead people on about it as he's said in the past he hates to do that.

I really hope we can get rid of T*mmy at the end of s7 although knowing Tim he'll probably keep him for added drama until s8. Unfortunately even when B/T ends I expect those fans to do a lot of complaining because they've concocted this whole idea in their head that T*mmy is Buck's endgame soulmate. They even want T*mmy to be added on as main character and get a begins episode. So I fully expect some of them to riot when he inevitably gets the ax. The rest will probably run back to Buddie the minute it becomes canon and try to pretend they never left. Jokes on them though because a lot of Buddie shippers have blocked them for how awful they've been this season especially towards Eddie.

#ask #anon #911!