#call of duty operators

[cyxnidx]

CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST

- this is my call of duty(cod) masterlist. the characters below are who i write for. please ensure to read req. rules before sending something in!

; keegan, horangi, könig, simon 'ghost' riley, krueger, valeria

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY :

(n)sfw hcs

Little Ones

Just Like Your Father

Wandering Eyes

MULTIPLE :

König, Simon, Valeria, Soap - Lady Dimitrescu

Keegan, Horangi, Krueger, Alejandro - Lady Dimitrescu II

Soap, Horangi, Keegan - Expressions

König, Simon, Soap - Sharing Is Caring

[nrdmssgs]

Masterlist "We can't keep it." "Sputnik. Her name is Sputnik." "We can't keep Sputnik, Nikto! She's a wild animal" "Look her in the eyes." "No" "Look her in the eyes and tell her, she will have to leave this place." "...Fuck you, Andre." "She likes belly scratches. Like this."

[yawnderu]

I wanna nerd out a bit about the new operator (3-headed Ghost) because I just bought him and I can't stop looking at him.

While he is a bizarre combination of limbs from the TF141 members, he's listed as a member of KorTac, a private military contractor in the game known for having the bad guys, including Makarov, Graves, and some Konni soldiers. As of now, all the information of the operator appears as [REDACTED].

The masks he wears are arranged in chronological order following the events of the campaign, starting from the one on the right side, worn by Simon during Grave's betrayal. The mask in the middle is from the cinematic where Simon and Johnny meet up with Rodolfo again to rescue Alejandro, and the mask on the left side is from another cinematic, where Ghost's team eventually defeats Shadow Company.

He has five arms, two of which belong to Simon and are located on the right side of his body. On the left side of his body, two of the three arms are mutated together, and one of the arms belongs to Soap -easily recognizable by his SAS tattoo-, grasping Price's arm, while Gaz's arm is on the back.

Some of the accessories he wears include Gaz's cap,

Price's scarf,

and Farah's headband.

While he is listed as a KorTac operator, still attached to it can be seen a United Kingdom Special Forces patch on Ghost's arm.

Another curious fact is that the solitary arms on the back (belonging to Simon and Gaz) and Simon's head do not stop twitching, to the point it looks rather painful, as the head twitches force his entire body to move as well.

When you're in the selection screen, the Alone operator examines his mutated arm for a few seconds before moving on.

[sombrashe]

ovulating and simply being in the vicinity as the 141

Maybe you're part of the 141 and as the only newbie you feel overwhelmed by the job and the fluttering of your cunt or maybe you're simply their neighbor, staying on base to finish college while your parents serve

No matter the reason the simple waft of Gaz's cologne, the way Soap's muscles contract as he does pushups in the front yard or how Ghost gives you a stiff nod whenever you catch him doing yard work in the early morning always has you clenching around nothingness

Your panties sticking to your soaked cunt always has heat plastered to your face as you try to make normal conversation with the three men, their oldest member frequently on base working on the next mission

Something you only know because you couldn't stop rambling one night last month trying to get out of his intoxicating smell as fast as possible

Finally they notice something is wrong, all these months of seeing and talking to you after finishing your daily walk without incident to these random intervals of being unable to form coherent sentences as you attempt to get away from them as fast as possible

"'re 'ou okay, lovie? 'Ou seem outta it today."

You give a forced nod, the natural muskiness of Ghost wafting into your nose and only making you clench your thighs tighter

When Gaz and Soap join him you can't stop the groan of annoyance that comes out of your mouth, they have to know what they're doing at this point

A pointed look and you're blurring out nonsense, "No, yes. Yes i'm fine. I mean I need to go, sorry. I have to take care of myself- No wait I mean something. I need to take care of something."

Raised eyebrow, a simple smirk and a short laugh from Soap have you pulling at the hem of your shirt

"Well, if ya need any 'elp takin' care of yerself, bonnie. You know where to find us, yeah?"

[cod-dump]

König: I once had a sniper trained on Sergeant MacTavish

Horangi: And he's still alive. Why didn't you shoot him?

König: He looked at me

Horangi: ... he looked at you?

König: I was over three hundred meters away and he MADE EYE CONTACT WITH ME THROUGH THE SCOPE

Horangi:

Horangi: You're right, he is scarier than Ghost

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

WIP poopy sketch of the Alone Operator

shoutout to @ave661 for the reference!

I might regret drawing those hands in the future but hey, I'm insane.

[codderanged]

Infestation Time >:)

Roach is ready to pounce into feral mode

[hyper-fixates]

i’m sat.

[lunarw0rks]

Hello I wanna request some Valeria SMOOT cuz I'm down bad for cartel mommy. A short fic abt Valeria fucking the absolute brains out of you to the point of being dumb and squirting everywhere

warning(s): nsfw (18+), exhibitionism, overstim., dom/sub, degradation/praise, val's purple strap strikes again, humiliation, squirting, fem!reader

MAKING MESSES | VALERIA GARZA

overbearing bass, candlelit lighting, constant chatter; surrounding the two of you. the noise of nightlife is muffled by the oversized doors, still original to way before your time — almost an irony compared to the modernized club they’re housing.

it wouldn’t matter either way. your ears were ringing. every gasp, every whimper, every mutter into your ear echoed and fizzled into the noise.

her pink nails dug like needles into your hips, guiding every rut onto her strap. valeria lolled in the leather armchair, leaning back and enjoying the show you were giving her. she paid no mind to the risk, how patrons could be a hair away from hearing or seeing you two.

it was her club; her place. and you were fucking hers. anyone who had a qualm about that? they never stuck around long.

she controlled everything, every single body roll. your cunt clenched tight around the violet silicone, swallowing its entirety. “sigue adelante, nena. so fucking desperate.” she spits out her words, relishing in your whimpers. they echo off the stucco walls, likely carrying all throughout the hall. “desperate whores should get nothing. but not you. riding me out in the open like this.”

your bottom lip seeps a bit of blood from how harshly you had been biting it, pathetically failing at silencing yourself. it wasn’t any use when you’d already finished twice, leaving a milky ring around the base of the strap. your wetness dribbled down the slick shaft, soaking onto her cargo pants.

the night dress you wore, pulled down at the top to expose your nipple. it might as well be her own personal stress toy — to lap, squeeze, pinch, and slap as she sees fit.

it was pure luck that none of the clubbers had rounded the corner. if it were up to valeria, she wouldn’t skip a beat. the buzzed onlooker getting a surge of jealousy when they ogle your bouncing body; hem pulled up to expose your bare ass as it jiggles. or the drip of your pussy, messily and audibly being stretched out.

your head dips down, getting a rush of fatigue from the physical strain. if it weren’t for her harsh hands, you were sure your grinds would be nonexistent. with precision, she outstretches a hand and grips your jaw, forcing eye contact. “eyes up. you don’t get to tap out after teasing me, cariño.” valeria patronizes.

if you were of sound mind, perhaps you would’ve agreed. not wearing panties was a risky move; as risky as riding her in the dim hallway. but she always packed — that violet temptation just a zipper away.

you felt yourself plunged into another high, mewling against her palm as you climaxed. she locked in, both hands returning to your hips as she drove you down faster. this was your most intense orgasm yet; eyes rolling and body shivering.

pleasure pumped through you as violently as the strap, a warm gush messing all over her lap. you had squirted, proving that the sticky mess before was nothing. “mierda… mi putita, so messy.” valeria groaned lowly with amusement, as if she had climaxed herself.

“we aren’t done.” she leaned in close, showing the forced grinds to a stop. you had no choice but to believe her — and valeria always stuck to her word.

a toy being used on a toy <3

a/n: this is so bad... | ⊹。°˖➴ divider cred. - cafekitsune

[blingblong55]

it was who?- König

Talking to his imaginary camera, in his imaginary interview..

König: All the other children said I was too shy, so I was always made to sit outside

König: and then one day, somebody burned down the school

König: .......and that person....

König: ...was me.....

[nrdmssgs]

Masterlist

in case you guys wanted the full view

[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, stalking, use of the name "sweetheart", please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: Welcome to the underground, where secrets are currency and alliances are as fragile as glass. Part 1 of our Mafia AU story is here, ready to pull you into a world of shadowy deals, unexpected loyalties, and high-stakes drama. Step carefully, but don’t look away—you won’t want to miss a thing!

Read Part 2 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 5 Read Part 6 Read Part 7 Read Part 8 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 1: The Hidden World

The dim lights of the bar flickered, casting a soft amber glow across worn wooden tables and well-worn stools. The low hum of the jukebox played in the background, mingling with the clink of glasses and the steady hum of conversation. The smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke hung thick in the air, a constant reminder of the bar's gritty charm. This was no high-end joint — just a dive, a haven for the forgotten and those who preferred to keep their lives in the shadows. For years, you’d been part of that rhythm, the steady beat of routine keeping the world at bay, making you feel just detached enough to avoid the spotlight.

And then they walked in.

Members of the 141 Mafia.

For months now, they’d come in like ghosts slipping through the shadows — deadly, enigmatic, and utterly out of place in the world most people knew. To the outside eye, they looked like any other patrons, but the air around them was charged, like a storm perpetually on the horizon. The kind of tension that made you realize they weren’t just men who had seen an unspoken battle, but men who carried it with them, like a weight that could never be set down. But to you, they were just regulars, faces who blended into the dim light like anyone else. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

John "Soap" MacTavish was the first to break the ice. His boyish grin and easy banter disarmed you from the start, making you forget, if only for a moment, that he was part of something darker. He’d sling a joke your way or toss a casual flirtation across the bar, a half-finished beer in hand. His carefree nature seemed almost out of place, but when you caught the flicker in his eyes — a fleeting darkness — you knew there was more to him than the easy charm. He often asked you to stay after closing for a drink, and though you’d laughed it off the first few times, lately, you found yourself lingering a little longer, drawn to the mystery behind his laugh..

Then there was Simon Riley — Ghost. Silent as a shadow, he would plant himself in the farthest corner of the bar, a hood pulled low and that eerie skull-patterned mask always hiding his face. No one dared approach him unless invited, but his eyes, constantly scanning the room, missed nothing. His mere presence sent shivers down your spine, though not from fear — it was something else, something deeper, as though he carried the weight of a hundred lives on his shoulders. Whenever Soap got too close, Ghost’s gaze would darken just a shade, his silent watch never breaking, as though ensuring nothing more than words passed between you two.

John Price was different — a man who exuded authority and a weariness that came with a lifetime of hidden battles. He’d sit at the bar nursing a tumbler of whiskey, sharing stories that sounded more like fiction than fact. 

And then there was Gaz. He brought a breath of fresh air to the heavy atmosphere. His laid-back attitude, the way he could light up the room with a joke or a quick challenge to a game of darts, made it easy to forget that he too was part of this group of regulars. He’d always laugh at your terrible aim, encouraging you despite the fact that you’d never win, but that was the charm of it. He had a way of making you feel like you were in on the joke, like you were part of their world, if only for a moment.

But tonight was different.

The bar, usually bustling at this hour on a Friday night, had grown unsettlingly still. Midnight had come and gone, and the usual hum of late-night laughter and drunken banter was absent. You were meant to take your break, but something gnawed at the back of your mind, keeping you anchored behind the bar. There was a heaviness in the air, a stillness that made you feel like you were standing on the edge of something you couldn’t quite see.

You wiped down the counter, deciding that it’d be better to call your boss and close up  instead of standing around, casting a glance toward the door. Nothing. No one. Even the regulars had slipped away without you noticing. The quiet was unnatural, as if the bar itself had exhaled its last breath. The jukebox continued its soft, haunting melody, the only sound left in the deafening silence. As you reached for a bottle to busy yourself, your fingers brushed against something cold.

A folded piece of paper.

It sat there on the counter, exactly where an afternoon patron had been sitting earlier. Your heart thudded in your chest as you unfolded it, the jagged handwriting making it somewhat hard to read:

"I’ll see you later, sweetheart…"

Read Part 2

Part 1 just scratched the surface of what’s to come! Thanks for taking this first step into the underworld with me. The stakes are only getting higher, and Part 2 will be here before you know it!

[ghouldtime]

Alone. Truly Alone.

A fanfic based on the Alone Operator, for all the monster lovers out there Pairing is: Alone Operator (aka Simon Riley)/ Gender neutral Reader / John "Soap" MacTavish

Prologue/Drabble: Tomorrow

Chapter One: Going into an abandoned military facility for a quick job for some extra cash wasn't your best idea

Chapter Two: You go to collect your reward and end up with leaving with more than the money alone

Chapter Three: Johnny didn't want someone who asked questions - to him, anyways. That didn't mean you wouldn't try to get your own answers

Chapter Four: 20% done - You try to talk some sense into Johnny and get Ghost the one thing he wants

[sombrashe]

Gaz' porn search is just

Chubby girl porn

Chubby girlfriend porn

Eating chubby girlfriend out

Chubby girl x soldier porn

Chubby girl x strong guy porn

Fucking chubby girlfriend first time

[cod-dump]

*after a shootout*

Soap: So, uh, where does your anxiety play into this?

König, standing over a body: It doesn't revolve around the enemy, more so around my team

König, staring into the distance: Horangi gives me constant anxiety

Soap: I... I understand

[temeyes]

banging fists on table NIKTO

SHASHAHS WHY HE'S SO HARD TO DRAW,,,,,??