#possessive 141 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

indigosunsetao3 · 1 month

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Possessive

adjective 1. demanding someone's total attention and love. 2. showing a desire to own things and an unwillingness to share what one already owns.

Female reader perspective

18+ | MDNI

Warnings: stalker undertones, jealousy, smut, public sexual acts. (nothing 'excessive')

Alex

You watch with narrowed eyes as Alex is interrupted for the third time in his reps at the squat stand. The gym was fairly full and there were plenty of other people using the weights that could help spot. Yet these same two girls kept going over to Alex specifically to ask for his help.

Normally it wouldn't bother you, he's friendly and has that look about him that just screams he wants to help. But today was different. Today you saw the two girls eyeing him and when they bypassed a few perfectly capable people that could spot for them you knew what they were up to.

But you wait. You continue to jog on the treadmill as Alex goes over to spot one of them as they use a barbell to bench-press. You tsk under your breath and resist shaking your head as the friend attempts to engage Alex in conversation. He's genial, answering her with a small smile as he watches the other woman pressing, his hands barely ghosting over the bar ready to catch it. Why the friend couldn't spot seemed to be a mystery no one else wanted to solve.

You were prepared to let it go as Alex stood up straight again and went to leave but they catch him again. The friend gestures to pull ups and you instantly slam your hand on the treadmill to end your session. You don't have to be a genius to know what the next plan was and you were fucking done. Grabbing your bottle of water you storm over to find the girl giggling and gesturing about trying to reach the bar.

"Alex," you say with a bite to your voice as you towel off your face. You didn't even get a chance to do a cooldown so you knew you were flush and it probably only added to the angry look. "I think it's time we hit the showers," you say, your eyes looking between the women who were watching you now. Sizing you up.

"Already?" Alex asks as he moves to look at his watch. "We've only..."

"We have that dinner to get to," you cut him off, your eyes finally leaving the women to look at him. He certainly seems confused. There is no dinner and he has no idea what you are talking about. He doesn't fight it though, merely shrugs a bit and says goodbye to the women while looking at you curiously. The women mutter their goodbyes and you resist smirking at them over your shoulder.

You don't give him time to catch up as you stomp toward the locker rooms. How could he not notice what those women were doing? He just went right along with it. Maybe he did notice. That thought sends you spiraling as your hand reaches the locker room door but before you can pull it Alex catches up,

"What's going on?" He asks a bit concerned as he searches your face. "Did something happen?" He looks around the gym as if there would be an indicator as to what had set you off.

"I'm not going to argue about it here," you seethe looking around at the gym for a second. You were upset but you also didn't want to cause a scene. "Just, let's get cleaned up and we'll talk in the car."

He frowns a bit before you pull the door open and head towards the lockers to get your things. Alex doesn't let you get far, instead grabbing your arm and tugging you down a small alcove where they hadn't finished the renovations yet.

"We're going to talk now," he insists. "You're mad at me and I have no idea why."

"That's why I'm mad!" You respond with a huff. "Those women were practically throwing themselves at you and you went along with it. Every time they walked over you dropped what you were doing to help. They didn't go to anyone else, just you. And you just...let them get your attention like that."

Alex grins, actually grins at you now, and you resist sidestepping him and marching to the showers.

"Sweetheart," he says gently, reaching to turn your cheek so you'll face him instead of staring to the right, bouncing your leg angrily. "I didn't even notice," he says getting in your eyesight as you attempt to look away again. "They asked for my help and I...helped. I thought it was a bit odd they needed so much assistance but I figured they were just...new" He laughs a bit seemingly finally putting the pieces together.

"See!" You exclaim, "they were obviously into you. And you fed into it." You know it sounds ridiculous but you can't help yourself.

"Ah, but see, bad news for them," he backs you up into the wall. "I'm not into them," his broad hands find your hips and he squeezes gently. "I've only got eyes for you," he smiles at you trying to get you to smile back. "Especially when I get to stretch you out...which you deprived me of today by the way," his hands leave your body to brace on the wall over your head so he's crowding your space.

He's flustering you on purpose, to distract you. And it's working. You stare up at him for a moment, noting how his shirt was still stuck to his chest with sweat and his hair partially plastered to his forehead. He's giving you a knowing smirk because he's well aware what happens to you when he hovers close.

"Take me home then and you can stretch me all you want," you taunt back which causes his eyes to flare for a second.

"Waiting too long to recover won't do you any good," he replies. "How about we get those legs nice and relaxed," he proposes, sliding his hands down the wall and hesitating for a moment before pushing off to stand up fully again.

You laugh stopping long enough to grab some supplies from your locker before following behind him and snapping the door shut. Sharing a shower stall wasn't exactly approved but you could care less as Alex ran his hands all over you. He takes special care of your worked muscles, maybe lingering a moment too long on your ass but you don't complain.

"Maybe I need to rile you up more often," Alex taunts as you both walk out of the locker room some time later with long glances and unsaid promises of what was waiting for you at home. "Jealousy is cute on you," he teases and you cut your eyes at him before grabbing the hand he reaches out to you.

What you don't notice are the two women still in the gym. Alex carefully catches their eyes with his own just as you are about to exit and he pulls you close to him, planting a kiss on your head.

Gaz

"We're going to be late," you call to Gaz as you put on the finishing touches of your lipstick and check your teeth in the mirror. It was the annual holiday party that your job hosted and this year was cocktail attire, compared to all the others that had been ugly Christmas sweaters and jeans. "Car will be here any moment," you walk out of the bathroom and fix the strap on your heel.

"I'm ready," Gaz answers already downstairs. You find him fixing his tie in the hallway mirror and he watches you approach in the reflection. He smiles at you, taking in the shimmering pale gold dress that matches his tie, which he finally sets. "You look nice," he carefully pecks you on the cheek, not wanting to mess up your makeup.

"As do you," you compliment before a car honks outside and you quickly grab your purse and head out. Date nights weren't very frequent for you, between your job and his it was hard to find weekend evenings together. So for the holiday's Gaz had splurged and rented a town car to take you to and from the party.

Once in you settle back into the seat, leaning a bit on Gaz, your phone buzzes. You pull it out and sigh a bit. You hadn't told Gaz everything about the evening.

"What is it?" He asks as he looks over, catching the look on your face.

"You have to promise to not get upset," you start but he knows immediately just by that statement alone. It had been a point of contention in your relationship for a while now. You worked with your ex, that was a known fact and not a big deal. The problem was your ex was constantly trying to win you back and before Gaz had come along it had worked a few times. So your ex was emboldened by that track record and never let up. He had transferred to a different office but because it was the company party he would be there.

"Was that him?" He asks nodding his head at your phone and you pause and nod before handing the phone over. You have no secrets from Gaz. He takes it and glances at the message before scoffing and handing it back. "He doesn't even try to hide it," Gaz mutters as you put the phone away. "I don't understand why," he starts but you cut him off.

"You know why," you answer. "My boss is his friend, if I push too hard it could cost me my job. I know it's stupid and not fair but it is what it is," you continue before Gaz can retort. You've had this argument so many times it was predictable what all the points and counter points would be. "You know how I feel, I would never."

"I know you wouldn't but I don't like that he thinks he can keep trying," Gaz answers, his body language definitely stiffer than it had been when you left the house. "It's never going to end. He doesn't respect you or me," his voice is a bit raised and you look at the partition in the car between you and the driver to make sure it is up.

"Don't let him ruin our evening," you press, already worried it's been soured. "Just you and me tonight, right? We got this car so we can drink and be stupid," you grin and nudge him lightly. "Don't let him take that."

Gaz gives you a tight smile but agrees. The rest of the ride is quiet but less tense over to the venue. The party itself is nice, at least two hundred people are in attendance and you keep glued to Gaz's side all evening. Introducing him to new coworkers, saying hello to old ones that he already knows. Your ex is ever hovering though, attempting to get you alone in conversation any chance he can.

Gaz's hands remain on you all evening though, polite but ever possessive as he keeps a keen eye on your ex. Whenever he gets close Gaz tugs you that much closer, let his fingers dig in just that much harder or he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek or shoulder. The alcohol is also starting to get to the both of you as well and you find Gaz's hands wandering under the table. You bat him away a few times with a smirk but he continues, careful to play coy.

As the party starts to wind down Kyle's hands get a little more brazen. He slides the gold silk of your dress up your thighs under the table cloth and when you shift forward and spread your legs just a bit his fingers lightly brush the apex of your thighs. You snatch up a drink to keep from spluttering, but close your eyes enjoying the touch for a second. Right as your about to ask him if he was ready to leave, you yourself ready to get him alone, your ex walks over and takes the empty seat across the table.

"Nice party," he says in a form of greeting looking at you and Gaz, sizing the latter up. "Matching ensemble. Cute," he tacks on evidently intending to be sarcastic.

"A man should always compliment his lady," Gaz answers simply as he slides your panties to the side under the table. You shift a bit attempting to press your thighs together but he doesn't allow it, his hand briefly squeezing your leg before letting go. "Especially one this beautiful," he grins turning to look at you as he lets his index finger slide down you.

"Never could get me to do it," you ex says with a small laugh. "I'm not about to let a woman dictate to me what to wear," he shrugs. "Guess soldiers are used to taking orders." He smirks and sips on his amber drink, eyeing you.

He's completely unaware that you are struggling to keep a straight face as Gaz gently circles your clit, spreading your arousal all over you. You inhale sharply as he moves to slip a finger in you but you cover it with a cough as your ex angles his head a bit at the sudden movement.

"Could be why she left you then," Gaz answers back coolly. He had promised to not pick a fight with you ex ages ago, but never said he wouldn't rise to the occasion if your ex started it. "No offense of course," he tacks on as his middle finger glides effortlessly into you and you squirm, unable to contain it. "Some men just aren't cut out for strong women." He smirks, placing a small kiss to your temple as he subtly adjusts to let his thumb rub against you.

Your ex laughs at this before downing his drink and setting it on the table a little too hard.

"She'll come back to me," he answers dropping all pretense at playing nice. "Always has. You aren't the first guy after me you know. She'll be begging for me before long."

You narrow your eyes and open your mouth for a retort but Gaz already has one. His hand sliding out from you to rest his elbow on the table. His has his hand up, using the guise of twisting his ring on his finger with his thumb to draw attention to his movements as he acts as if he were thinking of what to say.

His fingers are glistening in the light and it draws all three of your eyes. If you could die from embarrassment you would.

"I'm fairly certain she'll be begging for me to keep going tonight when I get her home," he answers finally, cutting a cocky look to your ex. Your ex caught on to what has been happening at the table and his face portrays his shock. "Ready to go?" Gaz asks you pointedly before standing up and pulling your chair out. As you stand he gently tugs your dress down in the back for you before guiding you away with his hand on your lower back.

"You did that on purpose," you hiss as he helps you get your coat on. Your ex hadn't left his spot at the table and was still watching the both of you as you prepared to step outside.

"Well, I've wanted to get you out of that dress all night," Gaz answers as he holds open the door. "Him coming over was just the perfect opportunity for me to emphasize you're mine and not his," he smirks. "Hopefully he'll leave you alone."

Ghost

You smirk as one of the men taps out after you got him pinned with your legs wrapped around them and one arm pulled back. Letting go of his arm you pull your legs back and take a quick breather as he stands before he offers you a hand up.

The new group that you were training had taken one look at you and underestimated you. They always did. One cocky bastard had volunteered to spar against you first and you just smiled sweetly as he stepped into the ring. He didn't make it thirty seconds.

"Can you tell me what he did wrong?" You ask the rest of the men standing lined up as you grab your bottle of water. A few of them mutter jabs at the guy and one elbows him as he laughs into his own bottle of water. Eventually they state his footing and late lunge which is correct. All of them are too lumbering, relying on their bulk which is useless if it's used against them.

"Who's next?" You ask before you hear the door open and someone steps in. Everyone turns around to see Ghost had entered the small gym area. His arms are crossed over his chest as he comes to stand near you to observe. "Ignore him," you say with a smirk before pointing out one of the guys and motioning him to the mat. "He's just trying to intimidate you," you explain before indicating it was time to start.

This recruit lasts a bit longer. You almost had him pinned but he broke out and picked you bodily up off the floor before taking you back down to the ground. It knocked the wind out of you for a second as you squirmed under him before hooking your leg around him and attempt to flip him over. He laughs, a breathy thing in your ear, as you buck up which causes your eyebrows to shoot up.

His friends are cheering him on as you both attempt to overpower, hands grappling for purchase. At one point he's got your ass gripped hard in both of his hands as he tries to flip you to your stomach. From the corner of your eye you see Ghost shift, take a step forward as if he were going to intervene, and you grunt before trying to get a knee to his chest but he pushes down further into you trapping that leg. His fingers are like vices and this is definitely not because he's trying to pin you and you feel him roll his hips. Fucking hell.

You buck hard and bring up an elbow to his neck. The guy relents and you knock him over and scramble around him. After a few seconds you're sitting on his back with your legs locked tight around his waist and his head in a headlock. He taps after a few seconds of being held that way but you hold it for a second longer before letting go, roughly. You stay sat on the ground trying to catch your breath before Ghost actually steps in and offers to help you up, blocking the other guys effort. You raise your eyebrows but take his hand as he hauls you effortlessly to your feet.

The guy is talking quietly with his friends and you see one of them appraise you before stepping forward offering to go next. But once again Ghost steps in and shucks off his hooded sweatshirt and tosses it to the ground.

"You, again," he orders pointing to the guy that had just pulled that little stunt with you. He doesn't look as excited to get back on the mat and he stands there looking between you and Ghost for a second. "I'm not going to tell you twice," Ghost states before the guy steps forward. The cheering had died down and there is an absolute silence when they begin.

It's over quickly. Ghost has him in a tight headlock and the guy is frantically tapping for release but Ghost doesn't let up. You watch the guy for a second, your eyes making sure he can at least breathe, before making eye contact with Ghost who is staring right at you. You can see the murderous intent there before you nod once and he lets go, the guy rolling away gasping for air.

"You're dismissed," Ghost barks before you can say anything. There was another thirty minutes of training left but no one argues. The recruits quickly gather up their things and dart for the door leaving you and Ghost staring at one another.

"What the fuck was that?" You ask as he bends down to grab his discarded sweatshirt. He's still seething as he looks at you. "I don't need you defending me, I can handle my shit on my own," you tilt your chin up a bit in defiance.

"Never said you couldn't," Ghost answers. "But he was groping you, blatantly, and egging his friends on to try it," he steps closer.

"That is not the first or the last time that will happen," you shoot back. "One in every fresh batch I get tries it. At least this one wasn't half bad looking," you taunt and see the flare of anger on his face. Good.

"So you enjoy having a green fucking recruit paw at you?" He asks closing the gap completely so you have to tilt your head up to see him, your chest brushing his.

"What if I do?" You ask cocking your head to the side a bit, "you've made it very clear where I stand with you." Fuck buddies. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. That had been his rule, not yours.

His hands are swift as he grabs your behind, hiking you off your footing before you even know what is happening. He twists and drops you both to the floor and has you pinned under his weight, his hips between yours. "I don't like seeing someone touching you, thinking they can have you," Ghost answers as one of his hands pushes your thigh up toward your chest so he can press his hips in harder.

"You don't get to be jealous, these were your rules remember?" You ask as he rocks into you again making you squirm. "I'm not going to just sit and wait for your every beck and call when you need a good lay," you arch up a bit as one of his hands dances down your ribcage. "I'll find someone eventually, someone that actually wants me, and you'll have to find someone new to bring to bed."

"Love, you're never going to be rid of me," Ghost answers as he lets his hands slide up, up, and under your sports bra. "You're mine whether you like it or not. And no one gets to play with what is mine," he pinches you lightly causing you to groan.

It wasn't exactly the declaration you were looking for but you'd take it. For now.

Price

An injury had you sitting this one out and it infuriates you. You had tried to tell everyone you were fine, you could go. But when Price sent you for a lap around the facility and you came back clutching your side limping you had to admit defeat. So that meant the team was one person down and they needed the slot filled. Laswell had found someone that was available immediately and when you saw the file it set your teeth on edge.

It was Price's old, well, whatever she was. They never married but from what you knew they were certainly not in a strictly professional relationship. Price barely reacted when Laswell said her name, though the rest of the team had glanced at one another, pointedly not looking at you. They knew the history. What worried you even more is how their relationship had been is exactly how yours and Price's started. Was it a pattern?

When she arrived for the briefing a few days later you couldn't help but glare at her from where you sat. You were running intelligence and communication with Laswell so you were at least somewhat part of it. She was gorgeous, fit as a goddamn fiddle and why the fuck was her hair so luxurious? You knew Price liked running his hands through your hair, wrapping it up in a tight fist as you sucked him off. Then you thought about all the times he had done that with her and you nearly came out of your seat with fidgety agitation.

Price had opted to sit next to you during the meeting, his face passive as he took in the plans. He jotted down a few notes here and there but mostly leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed. You couldn't sit still though, moving around in your seat and tapping into your email on your laptop for need of something to do. Then when she turned around to ask a question of John you grew completely rigid.

John answered her, just as he would answer anyone, but his eyes cut to you briefly as he speaks. He clocks your sudden stillness and you quickly busy yourself with opening an old email and read it intently like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He looks away again but you swear you see a small smirk on his lips.

When the briefing ends you're the first one up, tucking your laptop and files under your arm and headed out. You can't be in there anymore, you need to walk off some of this pent up anxiety, anger, whatever it was. If you were this upset about them being the same room you knew them being alone together for days at a time was going to be torture. You need to get a handle on it.

"Stop," comes John's voice as you're about to round a corner. You poke your head back around the wall to see him standing there. "Come in my office for a moment," he gestures down the hall the other way.

"I've really got..." you start as you try to come up with an excuse.

"It wasn't a request," he states with a small eyebrow raise.

You quickly head back toward him and he leads the way to his office, not pausing to see if you’re following. He knows you are. When you make it to the office he opens the door for you and ushers you inside before shutting the door. And flipping the lock.

"Mind telling me what this is all about?" He asks you without preamble. He was never one to beat around the bush.

"It's nothing," you try, "just don't like that I'm stuck here is all. I hate being couped up."

John watches you carefully before taking your laptop and files out of your hands and setting them on one of the empty chairs. "Now that you're done making things up, let's try the truth hmm?" He grins as he leans closer to you, effectively pinning you between him and his desk, his hands braced on either side of you.

"I don't," you splutter. "Why does it have to be her?" You finally dare, your eyes darting away for a moment before going back to his face. He's fucking grinning. Like a gloating bastard.

"Love, are you jealous?" He taunts, moving one his hands to capture yours, holding it between his palm and the desk so you're now stuck. "Why?"

"Why?" You shoot back a bit flabbergasted. "Have you seen her?" You pause, "of course you have. That's why you took her to bed too," you groan not wanting to think about that. Shutting your eyes for a moment to compose yourself you open them again to find him still watching you intently. "You're going to be out in the field with her. Without me. I know you two were like us back then, got started the same way. I don't know what if you find you miss her or," you're fumbling and feeling silly but he's just waiting patiently for you to get it all out. "What if you want her again? And not me? And you let her crawl into your sleeping bag on a particularly cold night and warm her up." Which is precisely what you two had done the first time.

"Are you done?" He asks, his tone is patient as his thumb runs over the back of your knuckles. When you don't answer him he continues. "That was almost ten years ago. We're not the same people we used to be," he pauses at the incredulous look on your face. "Would it help if I told you she was married now?"

"A bit," you answer, though you still feel insecure. "But I know what happens out there tends to stay," you start but John sighs cutting you off.

"I ended it with her," he continues to explain. "And she never got this," he adds as his hands moved to slowly unbutton your top. He's slow about it, letting you draw a few ragged breathes before he peels the material back to reveal your bra and a chain that disappears between your breasts. He smirks and gently fishes it out, his other hand pulling on the front of your bra a bit to give him more wiggle room.

There was a delicate ring on the end of the chain, one you didn't dare wear for others to see when you were working to avoid too many questions.

"Is that proof enough for you?" He asks. When you nod your head after a moment he gently tucks the ring back where it had been hidden. His calloused fingers lingering a bit longer than needed on the soft skin. "Now you can go wherever it was you were running off to," he smirks leaning back a fraction of an inch.

You catch him by the shoulder and pull him back to you. "I really wasn't going anywhere, I just," you start but he interrupts you with a kiss.

"I'm well aware," he answers against your lips as he lifts you to put you on the desk. "We've got a few minutes before Laswell comes knocking. Give me something to think of to keep me warm while I'm out there so I don’t need her to share my roll with."

You snarl as he laughs against your lips. You decide to do him one better and as he takes a seat in his desk chair you climb in his lap and leave marks all over him. Gentle bite marks on his chest to mix with his other scars. A dark purple bruise of a hickey on his neck that will definitely be visible above his shirt collar. And when he's finally inside of you, you leave scratches on his back that will be hard to miss.

You fully mark your territory and John seems pleased with your handywork, judging by his smirk as he does his shirt back up.

Soap

You had spent too much time behind the screen of the dating app instead of actually getting out there and going on dates. You had been picky, barely getting past a few days of talking to a guy before you gave up on them. Your standards were high but you also knew it wasn't fair to keep trying to compare these men to Johnny.

Tonight was different though. You finally decide to just go out and meet one of these men in person. It was casual, meeting for drinks a the local dance bar. You think if you met them in person you might not lose interest as quickly.

Stepping out into the cool evening air you fix the sinfully short skirt of your dress and head into the dance hall. It's already full of people. You glance at your phone to see a message that your date had already arrived. He says he's sitting along the bar that runs the length of the dancefloor in the back. Shoving the phone away, not wanting the distraction, you make your way back there and after a few seconds of peering around you spot him.

Fuck he was gorgeous. You swallow before smiling and walking over, taking the seat he gestured toward. Conversation is casual as you two start the game of getting to know one another more. There are more things you have in common than not, and as the drinks keep coming you find it easier and easier to talk.

Why hadn't you done this earlier? It was nice to be out, to be wanted, for someone to be interested in you. Johnny had said he needed space and you gave it to him, three months worth, and he still hadn't come back.

As your date excuses himself for a moment, you pull your phone out find messages. Three messages. Quirking your eyebrow you unlock the phone and can't help but scoff in disbelief. Three months and not a single word and suddenly Johnny wanted your attention.

Why are you at a bar? Who are you with? Lass, if you don't answer me I will show up.

You forgot that you were still sharing your location with him, you need to turn that off. Clicking over to that app you quickly swipe it off. And about five seconds later another message comes in.

Funny. I know where you're at. Don't you dare. I'm on a date and it's going well. Go back to wherever you've been hiding. With who? None of your business. It is my business. Who are you with? Not my fault you're jealous. You can blame yourself for this whole situation.

You see him typing a response but you lock the phone and put it away as your date returns. He grins and offers his hand to go dance. Your phone is buzzing as you tuck your purse inside his jacket and you just smirk to yourself as you follow him to the dancefloor. You know Johnny is seething with being ignored. Good.

The dancing starts out innocent enough, light touches and goofy laughing at moves. But as time passes and the lights get dimmer it gets a little more personal. His hands have wandered quiet literally all over you and you had found your own sliding up over his chest and around his neck. When his hips find your hips he holds fast as you dance, letting the alcohol and music numb your brain for a bit.

Bodies are bumping into one another as the floor fills up and you jump a bit as a hand slides around your waist. It's definitely not your date and when you look up at his face you see he's not impressed by whatever is happening. Preparing to bat off some drunk guy you twist around to see Johnny standing there, his hand flexing tightly on your stomach to pull you toward him. He wasn't joking when he said he was going to show up.

It's too loud to hear anyone talk but you start cursing him anyway as you reach down and attempt to pull his hand off of you. You'll be damned if his little stint was going to ruin your night. His hand doesn't budge though and your date has now let go of you and taken a step back, bumping into a couple behind you. You look at him for a second before glancing back at Johnny who is watching the man with lethal intent. Goddamn it. You'd seen better men than your date quail under that look. It seems your date doesn't want anything to do with whatever this was and he's backing up a few more steps.

"Didn't even try to defend you," Johnny chuckles as he leans down to whisper in your ear. His voice that you miss so much sends a shiver down your spine. "Have your standards dropped so low that quickly?" He taunts, his fingers sliding down your stomach to grab your hip and pull you tight against his own, moving your body to the music. But you aren't having it, you twist in his grip and shove at his chest.

"You smug bastard," you retort and shove him again but he doesn't let go. You glance back to see your date has melted away into the crowd. Coward. "Let go Johnny," you attempt to yell over the music as you glare up at him. "You've already ruined my night just let me go," you shove again but he wraps you tighter against his body, his fingers digging in a possessive grip on your sides.

"One dance," he bargains, leaning down to speak in your ear. "One dance with me in this pretty dress and I'll let you go," he nips your ear and you gasp. You can smell his cologne and soap this close to you and despite being so angry you can't help but lean into it, into him.

He knows he's won as he moves you to the music, spinning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. His hands were not tentative and slow like your date had been. Johnny knew where to touch and how, what his favorite parts were and how to thoroughly fluster you in the best way. You close your eyes reveling in this little bit of normalcy knowing you were going to be miserable and have to get over him all over again.

But one song bleeds into the next and you don't pull away, don't move from him as he holds you. Eventually he takes your hand and pulls you from the dance floor, pausing only for you to find your purse that your date had left at the bar. You're dreading the conversation that was about to come and the car ride home alone. But he leads you to his own car and you climb in silently staring out the window waiting for him to join you.

"This doesn't happen again," you snap as soon as he shuts his own door. "You don't get to decide when you're suddenly interested in me again. You ignored me for weeks Johnny, weeks. I finally decide to move on and you pull this shit? It's not fucking fair," you feel like you're about to cry and that shuts you up for a second. You refuse to cry in front of him anymore.

"It won't," Johnny agrees as he starts the car up. "Look at your phone," he nods toward your purse as he begins to pull out of the parking lot.

"I'm not done talking," you snap back.

"Look at your phone, then we talk," he answers, not looking at you as he pulls into traffic. "You're right about a few things. One of them is this," he gestures vaguely at the bar behind you, "will not be happening again," he finally looks over at you. "If it does some poor lad is going to turn up missing on the news." His statement sends a shiver up your spine. "But you were wrong to call me jealous. Jealous doesn't even begin to cover what I am when it comes to you."

You stare at him for a few seconds before finally pulling out your phone. It's flooded with messages from him. Clicking into the text thread you scroll to the top and start reading.

He wasn't lying.

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syoddeye · 1 month

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pursuit

poly 141 x reader ~1k words, lightly edited cw: chase/pursuit, human furniture continuation of spoils 2024/04/01 Update: This series is now Poly141! x transmasc!Reader.

The fireplace crackles, logs groaning in its flames. A mute servant slides narrow slats of kindling into the gaps and collects the ash. Reading in the privacy of his study after an indulgence is a languid ritual, and John leans in the seat of the tufted armchair like a lion sated. The servant continues their work in silence, with only the sound of turning pages cutting the quiet.

His eyes lift to the door seconds before the first knock falls, ending his peace abruptly. The grim face of a subordinate pokes through.

“Sir? You need to see this.”

John stares a moment before lifting his feet from the ottoman. The curled, nude man beneath his boots grunts quietly when he nudges him aside.

He allows the subordinate to bring up the security feed at his desk, one brow arched in intrigue rather than concern. He smirks as he watches a figure force themselves through a hedge. He summons his hounds with the press of a button, and one by one, they slink into his office, tails wagging at their own pace.

“Our little bird has flown the nest. Find ‘em, but do not engage lest they stray too close to the garden’s edge,” Reaching for his jacket, he pulls it on a sleeve at a time. “‘S preferable we allow them to believe they’ve slipped our grasp for now.”

With John’s instructions given, the three men race from the room. The Captain turns to the windows. If their plunder sought a game, he would indulge them.

Over comms, John monitors the chase’s progress, tone detached as he saunters down the shallow steps leading from the manse to an exit of the maze. “Drive them towards the northwest corner.”

With precision timing and manipulation, John orchestrates the movements like a conductor guiding an orchestra, ensuring that every step their quarry takes is one he guides. The hollering and whooping voices of his men echo across the garden’s expanse, loud then soft—all to keep them uncertain and on edge. They’re far from being the first rabbit loose on the grounds, on the run from his dogs.

“Give them a little room,” He lopes along the outer path, then hooks into the exit, scratching at his beard. “Only tighten the lead on my command.”

He stops at a stone bench nestled within an alcove of tall brush and hedge and eases into it. A soft groan escapes him. Perhaps he overextended himself when welcoming their guest in his excitement. Clearly, next time, he’ll need to wear them out more. The fact they had the energy and strength to climb out of the window of their chambers was a miscalculation on his part. A distant shriek makes his lip curl.

He checks his watch. Any minute now.

The ache of your knee and the warm track of blood are negligible, given current circumstances. The fabric is heavy, clutched in your fists, hoisted, and hitting against your calves with every step. You believe the head start will be enough. You must. You abandoned the bracelets and necklaces at the base of the wall beneath your window and tied shredded pillowcases around your bare feet.

Your heart hammers in your chest, lungs burning. After a few minutes, you skid to a halt and gulp down air. From the window, you estimated the maze was an acre and saw that it butted up against an iron fence, but it feels longer as if new paths spring up around each corner. Just as you catch your breath to continue, you hear it. Hear them.

Shouts.

Muttering a curse, you scramble onward. Although you try, it is impossible to keep quiet; whimpers and squeaks slip out as your poor makeshift feet coverings gradually rip away. The soles of your feet find every twig and pebble, and your scraped knee slows you further. Then there are the bruises that little your backside and thighs, thighs unhelpfully chafing and raw from John’s ministrations.

Your movements become more frantic as you weave through the garden, the voices—at once murmurs in your ear and distant howls beyond the shrubs—play tricks with your mind. Shadows await within the deadends and dark corners you find, morphing into figures, only to dissipate when you reel away.

A loud crunch of wood shocks you off your feet, and you hurtle into a wet patch of earth, biting your lip through. A burst of copper blooms in your mouth, but you gather your limbs up in a ball, tucking into recess on one of the living walls. Just as you retreat, the monstrous form of one of John’s men—Simon, the beast in black—stalks out from the gap you emerged from seconds before, sniffing the air like a dog. Heart in your throat, you watch him turn with a chuff, and disappear down a different passage.

You wait until his steps disappear. Cries erupt from a far corner of the grounds, and you shakily stand, trying to count the tones. One…two…

“Boo.”

A shriek rips out of you, and you stumble out of your hiding spot to take off. A deep laugh echoes behind you, and terror licks at your heels. It’s the mohawked one. The man with the teeth. MacTavish.

You must find a way out. No part of you can afford a second or third surrender. Your sides are in stitches, fisting the unwieldy drapes covering your body. Desperate, flawed math maps your footfalls, your panic-stricken mind trying to calculate not only your rough location within the maze but the routes least likely to land you in the clutches of one of John’s men.

Rounding a corner, every part of you aching, you glide clumsily to a halt. The cool mud on your feet and legs meets the warmth of your blood.

Seated upon a bench as if it is a throne, is John.

He smiles. Teeth tombstones in the dark.

“Did you have a nice run?”

You wheel around to disappear into the garden and meet a wall of solid mass. You bounce back a step and look up. The third man grins and encloses your wrist in an ironclad fist.

What about Kyle? He usually keeps his hands to himself.

Kyle's companions loom over his shoulders. He gently turns you to face John, who’s still seated.

Steps to your left and right crunch. Surrounded on three sides.

“Let’s see if they can’t work that insolence out of your system, eh?”

#poly 141 #kind of #x reader #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 x you #x gn reader #john price x reader #john price x you #price x you #price x reader #cannot stress enough that this is lightly edited #i was possessed once more and blacked out lol

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sophiethewitch1 · 1 month

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johnny x reader, drabble, mw3 spoilers, hospitals, chronic illnesses and injuries, can you tell I'm listening to too sweet by hozier, might make this into a full oneshot idk; 900 words

Thinking about Johnny meeting you in the hospital. He's at his lowest, sick and in pain. Bitter at being put out of the fight but thankful he's not a corpse, that the bullet didn't hit anything he was using inside his empty skull.

And then there's you. Another one of the patients, healthier than him but not by much. He sees you out the window of his room often, taking care of one of the small plots of the garden. Even though it obviously strains you, the nurses can't seem to convince you to give up. Every day, until one day you catch him watching you. Instead of telling him to fuck off, you give him a tired wave and a wide, toothy grin.

When he is eventually given the go-ahead to leave his bed, the first thing he does is nag Ghost into wheeling him out to the garden where you work. You're happy to meet the two of them, sweet. You invite them to stay and have tea with you. The next day when you catch Johnny watching again, you wave him down with an eager grin and a call of his name he doesn't hear. Ghost doesn't ask why Johnny makes visiting you a habit, but his eyes are knowing.

He gets better. You don't seem to. You don't talk about it, so Johnny doesn't press. Eventually, he's able to ditch the horrid wheelchair and spend time with you one-on-one. He doesn't have anything better to do, so he helps you garden. Pull out the weeds, water the flowers. Throws dirt at you when you're not looking. You in turn spray him with the hose. The two of you get lectured by the nurse nearby, heads bowed demurely as she rats you out for wetting his bandages.

He gets you back, of course. The next day your lecture is interrupted when you toss the mud caked into your hair right in Johnny's face.

The two of you spend hours chatting about the seeds you've planted, the vegetables you want to add to your sad hospital food. Eventually your conversations turn deeper. He talks of the wars he's fought, how he almost died. You tell him your war is internal. That you were born with a shitty body. That you'd spent so much time in and out of hospitals, you'd learnt to bring your hobbies with you.

One day, months and months later, a doctor says he should be ready to leave soon. Johnny finds himself shocked by the sudden despair he feels. He heads out to your spot, crouching down beside you as you work. You greet him with the same eagerness as usual, yammering on about your next plans for the bed. Johnny's silence eventually makes you stop. Concerned eyes rove over him, before asking what's wrong.

He tells you he's getting out soon. All you can manage is a quiet, 'oh'. After a minute's hesitation, you go back to weeding. Quiet this time.

The rest of the week is spent similarly quietly. Johnny tries to return your happy smile, cracking jokes and starting silly fights like the ones you always had. You can't manage to find the energy. Say you're just tired, that your illness is acting up. Johnny doesn't know if you're telling the truth. He wonders if the stress he's caused you made it worse, and he feels so guilty he almost pukes.

When his last day rolls around, he finds himself watching you through his window again. He knows you know he's watching you, but you refuse to even glance up at him. He can't help himself. He's back by your side in the garden even as he knows the guys are waiting to pick him up by the front desk.

You dig the shovel into the dirt with more anger than he's ever seen. So hard you're probably butchering the roots you've so delicately, lovingly cultivated. His hand reaches out, wrapping around yours, stopping you from causing any more harm. He pulls your hand to his, carefully prying open your hand. The shovel falls to the ground.

His fingers carve into yours, intertwining with your dirtied, grimy palms. He feels the granules between you, rough against your smooth, cold skin. You let him move you silently. Your fingers twitch against his, hand relaxing into the garden bed.

His other hand finds your chin, turning it so you're staring at him, into his stunning blue eyes. The hand moves so he's cupping your face. There's tears running down your face, wetting his palm. He's not sure who's the one who moves. He thinks it's him. In the end, his lips are pressing to yours, the kiss soft and sweet and slow and sad. You move against him with a desperation he's felt for you since he first saw you. When his tongue slips between your lips, and you let out a sickeningly sugary sound, he's glad you feel it too. When your hand grips his tight in your dirt, he knows that no matter what the doctors say, no matter what his body can do now, he can't really leave you. Not truly.

The next day, he applies for a visitor's pass, and again, you kiss each other in the garden. The nurse nags him for getting you all dirty. The joke he makes gets him an elbow from you. And Johnny thinks, thank god he got shot in the head.

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #cod x you #cod imagine #call of duty x you #johnny x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #idk what this was i just got possessed by the spirit of hozier this morning

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pupcor3 · 7 months

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Slasher price hc ? Hell yeah my requests are open!

Got a lil inspo from @lunarw0rks

WARNINGS: Nsfw, bedding kink,foreplay,knife play.

Slasher! Price: who tends to get a little possessive over you and will never let you be and you will have to let him come with you to go out and do anything.

Slasher! price: who will kill anyone I mean anyone if they even leave a finger print on you, you will find that man or woman will be dead in the next hour.

Slasher! price: who comes home blooded and has a scary aura but when all that stuff is gone and he's done with his job you're probably gonna not be able to walk the next day. Because of all the anger but is a softy after it and peppers you with kisses and aftercare

Slasher! price: who loves when you tried to kill someone, he thought it was hotter than it was supposed to be. He rewarded you with kisses and cuddles

Slasher!price who loves to bake with you, he will bake anything for you to be happy, (he loves your chocolate chip cookies)

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Slasher price: who loves to chase you so he can fuck you until you're legs are shaking.

Slasher price: who loves to breed you, he wants to have so many little him, so he can fuck you even more.

Slasher price: who loves to bite you anytime, he loves to see all the love bites, he loves to bite on the neck.

Slasher price: who will show all those scratches on him and all the bites he'll show them like a reward

Slasher price: who will be like "aw come on doll.. you can take it.." while he fucks you hard.

#price x reader #cod x y/n #task force 141 x reader #slasherprice??!!#slasher x reader #possessive price

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the-whispers-of-death · 18 days

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Content Warning: Suggestive at the end.

Stone was outside, mowing the front lawn as his husband was in the backyard, tending to their fruits and vegetables garden. It was a hot day, so hot that Stone had taken off his shirt, showing off his scarred brown skin.

"Hi," a woman's voice cut through the noise of the lawn mower Stone was using, signaling to him that she was standing there on the driveway.

Stone stopped the lawn mower and looked back at her, his cold and stoic facade quickly settling in place amidst a stranger. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice cold because only few saw his softer side.

But his coldness didn't deter the woman, who was attractive even if he wasn't exactly looking, and she still managed to preen at his deep voice.

"I moved in next door and thought I should come over, introduce myself," she said, stepping closer to him. She stepped onto the freshly mowed grass, oblivious to the tick forming in Stone's jaw as she extended her hand for him to shake. "I'm Denise."

"Call me Stone," Stone said, shaking her hand only to be polite. He didn't bother touching her more than he had to.

Denise seemed oblivious to all of the signs Stone was giving her as she asked, "So, Stone, are you free some time? I'd love to have you over for dinner one day, so I can get to know you better. I want to get to know my neighbors." Her eyes seemed to rake up and down his burly figure, clearly liking what she saw.

Stone opened his mouth to answer, but Sarabi, his husband, stepped forward. He seemed to have come out of the shadows, making Denise jump back in surprise.

"Unfortunately, my husband and I don't go to other people's houses," he said, his voice super gruff. He stepped closer to his husband, the possessiveness seeping out of his pores as he wrapped an arm around Stone's waist. "But I'm sure we'd be willing to host the dinner here, if you'd still like to get to know us?"

Denise's eyes went between the two men, her smile faltering at know learning Stone was married but she kept her smile up. "Of course, I'd be happy to come over. Whenever you're both free," she said, though she sounded a little sour at the news Stone was taken.

She stayed for a minute more to confirm details about their dinner together before she left, practically scurrying away in a hurry.

Stone rested his head on Sarabi's shoulder. He melted when he felt his husband's arm around his waist tighten. "You know, it's so nice when you get possessive," he murmured to Sarabi.

"Is that so?" Sarabi asked, his gruff voice softer now. "I was almost tempted to kiss you right then and here just to put her in her place."

Stone took that as an invitation, turning just enough to be able to lift up Sarabi's balaclava just enough to reveal Sarabi's mouth and he leaned into kiss his husband. It was a sweet kiss, but Sarabi's possessiveness was still there as his thick, strong hand took hold of Stone's ass through Stone's pants.

Sarabi growled softly when they pulled away for air. "You're mine, my husband. You got that?"

"Perhaps... You should make sure I remember that," Stone said, panting softly.

Sarabi took that challenge, switching his hold on Stone to pick him up and carry him into the house.

The garden and the lawn were forgotten for the day, but neither man cared.

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abnormal-vacuum · 5 months

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be honest how much would you pay for them

#i don’t know what possessed me to make these but they’re SO FUNNY #jesus #mw2 #farah karim #alex keller #john price #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #tf 141 #call of duty #cod #my art <

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ghosts-cyphera · 7 months

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I actually only started following you recently so excuse my question 🥺 but have you also looked into other cod characters by any chance?

aw no worries, darling! I’ve written a little drabble for 141 x price’s wife!reader (heed the warnings for that one) + these few short thoughts about soft!dom price, but other than that I’ve really just been focusing on ghost.

once my ps!ghost series has run its course I might dive into writing for price x reader, or maybe someone else depending on the new game and the inspo it’ll bring. <3

#some 141 boys will likely make cameos in the ps!ghost series + könig and graves will be there too!!#farah and alex as well I’m sure #and protective bestie valeria as the reader’s stylist haha #I love them all #but I’ve only been writing for cod for a month now so !! it’s mainly been ghost possessing this pea brain of mine haha #sending you all the love <3 #lo answers

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paint-the-walls-white · 26 days

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I don't share

Pairing: Possessive!König x Fem!Reader

Summary: König doesn't like sharing you, which is exactly why you had been married for almost ten years and none of his comrades knew about you. At least, not until he drunkenly spilled the beans and you showed up the next day with a box of cookies..

Warnings: Bondage! MDom! Doggy! CreamPie! OverStim! Oral(M2F)!

König was very secretive of his personal life on account of his social anxiety. He had been transfered to Task Force 141 for a while and had made pretty good friends with them, but of course, one night TF141 was making fun of him while drinking and in his own drunken haze he blurted out something that didn't go unnoticed,

"If you keep making fun of my wife, I'll kill you. Oh wait, that sounded like a joke; I will actually kill you."

He was very protective and possessive of you, which you didn't mind in the slightest. But he had accidently revealed that he had a wife, and everyone kept pestering him about it.

"I bet she's a strong lass aye? Big as an Ox! Only person that makes sense fer a mountain" Soaps slurred comment made him scoff as König kept sipping on his vodka, aggravated and embarrassed.

"What she do fer a living König? She a construction worker or somethin?"

König looked at Gaz with bewilderment. "A construction worker? where the hell did you get that? Gott.. Nein she's a baker."

Even Ghost was muttering how she probably had massive arms to carry 8 trays at once of protein bars. König kept to himself the rest of the night before returning home to you.

"Hi mein Liebe, I'm home." He pressed a kiss on your forehead, stripping off his tactical vest and mask then kicking off his boots.

"How was your night with the boys? Was it fun?"

He lied down on top of you, burying his face in your chest, crushing your small frame as he huffed annoyed.

"Kept making fun of you...Arschlöcher.. kept sayin you were a big burly lady.."

You snorted, running your fingers through his hair. You told him to ignore them because they didn't know what they were talking about, they were just trying to get a rise out of him.

He sighed, content in your arms as he fell into a drunken sleep on top of you, the crushing pressure more than welcomed.

The next day you decided to surprise König on base with a little gift. The guards of course did not believe that you were his wife so you pulled out the marriage certificate and your spouse ID card to shove it in their face. They were gob smacked as they discovered he had a wife and informed you he was currently at the cantina.

You were directed where to go, a box of chocolate chip cookies in had as you made your way there. Once inside, the place gradually got quiet as you made your way over to your husband giddy as his back faced you.

König was currently berating his friends about making fun of you again until he noticed that they weren't even paying attention, they were looking behind him.

He turned, and there you were, barely meeting his eye level while he was sitting, a box of cookies in hand adorned in a pleated pink skirt and a white tank top with a knit sweater and chunky white heels.

"Surprise! I brought you cookies Liebe!"

The horror that flooded his gaze was unmatched. He quickly wrapped around you to hide you from onlookers, glaring in their direction.

"Mein Liebe, what are you doing here? You are for my eyes only!"

You pouted into him, pushing off of his chest, "I wanted to surprise you," His eyes softened and he huffed, turning to glare at the men at the table who were still gaping in your direction.

"Thas your wife König? The lass is like half your size!" Soap stared on in horror, you could tell what he was thinking about so you hid in his shirt.

"Let's go." He stood, throwing you over his shoulder and flattening your skirt over your ass. Your face was red as you tried to keep the box from being crushed, and you just stared down, completely embarrassed.

"König put me down!" You kicked your legs, trying to fight him off, but he just smacked your ass and carried you out of the cantina, everyone completely silent.

"What the hell just happened." Ghost shrugged at Soaps comment and just kept eating silently.

König had carried you all the way to his quarters, gently placing you on the bed. The blood had rushed to your head so you were bright red.

He knelt, taking off your shoes and rubbing at your sore feet.

"Why did you think this was a good idea mein Liebe? Hmm?"

"I just wanted to bring you a treat.. I thought you'd like seeing me here.."

König sighed, kissing your shin before he looked up at you with his piercing gaze.

"Lamm, I can't keep my eyes off of you, which means neither can other men. I'm the only one that gets to look at you. Du bist mein."

You huffed and averted your gaze, cheeks a bright pink as you handed him a cookie.

"Still, you didn't have to make a scene.." He simply chuckled and stood.

"I know you like it when I toss you around Liebling, you cant fool me. I know you loved the attention."

He caged you in on the bed, prompting you to lie on your back, legs hanging off the edge. You pulled up his mask to reveal his mouth and pressed your lips to his. König groaned softly, slanting his lips against yours, intensifying the kiss.

You moaned and panted into his mouth, whimpering at the flavor of his tongue against yours. He ran a hand up your thigh, squeezing your soft skin in his calloused hands.

He pulled away to attack your neck, sucking and biting at the exposed skin

"K-König.. what if someone sees-!"

"Don't care.. they need to know who you belong to... Du bist mein..."

You squirmed underneath him, far too excited at the attention he was giving you, especially when he slipped a finger under your panties and rubbed at your sloppy folds.

"Scheiße.. du bist so wet for me Liebe.."

You watched with dazed eyes as he slid off the bed onto his knees, dragging you to the edge of the bed where he ripped off your underwear and started sucking on your clit. You immediately grabbed at the fabric of his mask and threw your head back, arching into his mouth as you moaned loudly.

König quickly sunk two fingers into your wet cunt, rubbing at your sensitive walls as he fucked you with his hand. You met his gaze and whimpered as he continued eating you out like a starved man. He moaned against your pussy as you came on his hands and face, plenty of slick being absorbed into the fabric hiding his face.

A soft whine escaped as he cleaned up your mess with his tongue, savoring every drop of your arousal. He stood, sucking his fingers clean as he stared down at your spent form lying limply on the bed.

"Braves Mädchen.."

You lied there, staring at him as you tried to grasp a single thought after that mind blowing orgasm, but you just blushed when you noticed his dick straining against his pants.

"What is it Liebling? You want more? Dirty little slag..."

Gnawing on your lip, you nodded, completely drunk on his attention. The sound of his belt being unbuckled and shucked from his pants immediately made you throb for him.

He bound your wrists with the belt, flipping you on your stomach so you were bent over the side of the bed. You had to stand on your toes, causing your legs to shake at the stretch.

"König.. Please.." He chuckled at your desperate plea as he forced your knees back onto the bed so your hips met his. He rubbed the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing you by swiping over your clit.

You whined, burying your face further into the mattress as the friction of the blanket rubbed against your knees. König sunk the head of his cock into you, eliciting a pitiful moan as he stretched you wide, this fat cock stuffing into you inch by inch.

He groaned softly at the friction, praising you for taking him so well, "It's like you were made for me Mein Liebe, wrapped so fucking tight around me... Scheiße.."

He slowly pulled out then sunk back in, reveling in the feel of your gummy cunt wrapping tight around his meaty shaft. You whined, pressing against him to meet each thrust, tears staining the mattress as you took his cock.

König nearly growled every time you sucked him back in, head thrown back as he pulled your hips against his.

"I don't share Liebling.. You're all mine.. Only I get to see you.. get to fuck you... Scheiße.."

He moaned as you tightly squeezed around him, creaming on his dick. He watched as a ring of white collected at the base of his cock, stuffing it all the way in before spurting thick ropes of cum into your cunt.

He pulled out slowly, his cum leaking down your thighs as you whimpered at the empty feeling. He gently undid the belt around your wrists and pressed a kiss to your forehead through his mask.

"Stay there Liebling, Ill clean you up.."

König stepped away to get a washcloth soaked in warm water, gently cleaning off the arousal that had covered your legs and folds, placing a gently kiss on your ass and putting your underwear, socks and shoes back on for you.

"Now let's get you out of here, I don't need anyone else looking at my beauty.." you just nodded slowly and tried to rise on shaky legs. Clinging to his arm, he walked you back to your car, many onlookers staring in shock and utter horror.

He raised his mask above his nose and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before letting you leave. When you started the car, window still rolled down, he listened intently to the radio, realizing you were listening to his playlist.

Rein, Raus

Rein, Raus..

You flushed, turning down the radio and meekly met his gaze, "I like that song.. Reminds me of you.."

His piercing blue eyes told you all you needed to know. When he got home, you wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

Because he was going to make sure you couldn't walk.

#smut #bde #konig smut #konig x reader #konig cod

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ff7-has-taken-me-over · 1 year

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I’m back with another fun prompt before I hit you guys with angst (sorry <3) I had a lot of idea but I decided this one was more cute and funny. so an AU where soap is medic (he is still the same just is more medically knowledgeable) so one day gaz and ghost walk in to medic ( gaz did something stupid and got hurt ghost is there to make sure he doesn’t pass out on the way there) and they see soap and ghost man is mesmerized he literally stop and stares soap walks in and just starts curse at gaz for being back in his office so soon then he sees ghost and gives him a huge smile and promises he’ll take care of gaz and he’ll be fine (ghost is so in love he just nods his head and thanks him). the next victim is könig he cuts his arm and soap just takes care of him and he is just straight flustered he just thinks of the nice medic who help him (the band-aids are cute animals). now the last two are Alejandro and Rudy they got a bit hurt and soap see’s them and immediately tends to their wounds he hold Rudy face with cleaning his cuts(Rudy face is so red and doesn’t know how to speak).then he hold Alejandro hand to bandage it he just stared and flirts with him in Spanish (soap knows multiple languages due to being everywhere as a medic) soap laughs and just says “ you think I’m hot? You’re not bad yourself and don’t worry I always kiss a patient better then he kisses his hand. Alejandro is just in shock and cannot speak price saw that go down and while soap is helping him he just say” y’know how we been talking about you joining 141?” “Yeah why?” “Let’s rethink that”.

Sorry this one took my so long, I’ve been trying to finish off some fics that’ve been sitting in my computer for a year.

Anyway! I actually love the idea of Gaz getting sent to Soap’s med room so often that the two just know each other really well by now and Gaz looks at him, looks at his lieutenant and goes, “Yes. He’s gonna love him.”

And then starts the talking about either man to the other one. Ghost kind of gets over Gaz talking about this medic so often and finally decides to go see what all the fuss is about himself one day. One look at the man tending to a random soldier and Ghost has fallen hook, line and sinker.

So now Ghost takes every opportunity to go see the man, including the time he ‘had’ to go with Gaz to make sure the man didn’t pass out in a random hallway (because there totally weren’t other people that could’ve taken him and he was the only person available)

It’s probably the only proper interaction he’s actually had with the man and when Soap turns that bright grin and soft eyes on him and speaks without an ounce of fear? Simon swears he could melt into a puddle.

König only ends up in medical because his captain told him to, something about needing him in tip-top shape. He doesn’t understand why since it’s literally a scratch but he won’t disobey orders, even if they’re literally pointless.

Though when the Austrian walks through that door and the nice medic man smiles at him that brightly he doesn’t feel as annoyed anymore. Especially when he gets so worried over mere scratches and handles him as if he might actually hurt him with one wrong move.

Soap offers him a choice of three animal Band-Aid’s, giggle on his lips as König chooses the cat one, “It suits you quite well I reckon.”

And if König wears those bandaids with pride and makes sure they’re always on display? Well, nobody’s gonna bring that up with the giant lest they die.

Rodolfo and Alejandro hadn’t met the man yet, both having been on a mission that had gone just a little rougher than they had expected. When they get back they’re both a little reluctant to go to medical, the older lady that had last been there was rough in her proficiency and sometimes you came away with an extra injury you didn’t have before.

But they both walk in and Soap’s there, turning toward them with a smile that drops in favour of worry as he rushes over. He ushers them to sit before going about and collecting his equipment, deciding to tend to Rudy’s head wound first since it seemed a little more severe than Alejandro’s arm.

Soap talks the entire time, voice as soft as his hands and Rudy swears he’s about blow a fuse with how hot his face is getting. The man’s face is so close and he keeps shooting the other these reassuring smiles whenever Rudy finds himself tongue tied in the face of his questions.

Alejandro watches the whole thing with amusement because he’s positive that he’ll be able to pull off talking to the man better than his longtime friend has.

But then Soap’s taking his hand in his own, treating him the same as Rudy and Alejandro finds he can’t remember a damn thing about the English language. He rolls with it though, flustering only slightly as he flirts in Spanish even though he’s positive that Soap doesn’t speak the language. Maybe the man will sense the intention behind the words?

“You’re quite good looking yourself. Did you want me to kiss your wound better as well or just your friends face?” Rudy looks ready to combust with both the words and the sudden language change from the Scotsman, Alejandro not faring much better as he opens and closes his mouth.

Soap laughs at their faces and lord have mercy, they’re both ready to die for this man if he so much as asked it of them. Soap does keep his words, kissing Rudy just right of the cut along his brow while he kisses the back of Alejandro’s hand, just shy of where his injury ends.

The two end up staying in medical just a touch longer since they both fear they’ll pass out if they stand right that second.

Price either sees the interactions or he hears about them from Gaz and he’s honestly a little scared of what might happen if Soap were to actually join the 141 and go into battle with them. These men were willing to kill when Soap had a bad patient, he didn’t want to imagine what could possibly happen if the man got physically injured in any capacity.

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shotmrmiller · 1 month

Text

simon isn't a man you take home. he's for the literal streets. dresses like he's homeless because all that matters is that his throwing knives and handguns are pristine. the only reason his home is spotless is because he doesn't live in it, it's all for show. his pantry has only salt and mouse traps, his fridge a long expired bottle of ketchup and something that if anyone ate, they'd gain superpowers.

he's got a crazy look in his eye, and who can blame him after all that shit he's been through? gut-wrenching betrayal, unimaginable torture, then buried alive shoulder to shoulder with his ol rotting buddy, ol decaying pal? he joined the military a butcher's apprentice, and now he's an echo of what simon riley used to be, a fading silhouette that wanders the corridors in base. a ghost.

he has to play music whenever he's not at work just to keep the screaming voices in his head at bay, and it has to be loud enough to drown out the incessant high-pitched ringing in his ears. a cacophony of noise that wears his thin string of patience into in-existence.

he's a killer, he's a man who's donned his skull mask for so long that he's forgotten the face underneath.

you don't bring a man like him home. and when you eventually did, even your parents had agreed.

he looks one clown short of a circus.

he hovers over you like a ghost. (ha)

possessive, obsessive, paranoid.

he'll kill you if you try to leave him.

simon heard everything, not like they had tried to keep their voice down. it hadn't really mattered to him, empty words pelting knotted flesh only a sharpened knife could cut through. but you hadn't taken any of it.

his little hero, coming to his defense. it'd been the first time- in a long time- that his icy cold, tiny heart skipped a beat.

simon's always been his own savior. he saved himself from the shit life he had with his family by joining the army. he'd clawed his way out of his own grave, freshly turned soil stuck under his fingernails for weeks. he'd gone after the head of roba, in the name of vengeance. even now, he's a part of the justice league, the task force 141.

unsung heroes.

and here you were, standing in your parent's kitchen, all bared teeth and scalding temper- over him.

simon's so aroused that when he rises from where he's seated, he sways on his feet. there's no stopping him from briskly walking over to you and hoisting you up and over his shoulder, heading for the door.

there's no stopping him from throwing you into the backseat, and climbing in after.

you weakly try to stop him with stammered words, just wanting to know what the fuck he's doing but when simon starts to impatiently undo the button of your jeans, his confined manhood pushing up underneath you, it clicks.

you don't want him to stop when the calloused pad of his thumb rubs your slippery clit with expertise, thick fingers curling inside your swollen cunt.

you definitely don't want him to stop when his cock slides through your slick folds, his hand wrapped around his thick base. his tip pushes inside, mild discomfort already flaring. gravity then does the work, slowly sinking you onto him until his thighs are flush against your arse. the sweet, decadent burn of him splitting you in half sparking your nerve endings alight, from the waist to your knees.

you beg him not to stop when he fucks you in earnest; desire, sticky and wet, dampening the coarse trimmed hair of his cock. the air inside the truck muggy, heavy and thick with sex. he places his hand under your navel, right when he knows he is, and grunts when he gently presses down. the noises coming from you and your sodden pussy are obscene, lewd, downright vulgar and he wonders if you'd let him record it- to replace the banal music he usually listens to.

your breath hitches beautifully, and simon makes sure to watch how you let go of his shoulder to weave that hand downward to take yourself over the edge.

"impatient little pet, can't even wait f'me to get ya there, eh?" the low chuckle he lets out is cut short at the feeling of your slick walls fluttering around him, making him groan. he keeps his sharp gaze on you when your body tenses, back arching as you jerk fast, little circles over your pearl. he plants his feet and begins to thrust upward, your weight nothing to his strength and-

how beautiful you look in the pleasure he brings you.

it's cliche, truly, that he comes when you do, but he couldn't care less in this instance. your cunt squeezes him like a silken fist, a tight vice that milks his cock almost painfully so. his grip around your waist is bruising, but it only adds to the sensation- the delightful bite of pain prolonging your pleasure.

the base of his spine tingles from his climax, and his breathing is ragged. alive. your hands skim the wide breadth of his chest, as if brushing off the dirt he'd once been buried under.

his little hero.

you took him home, so now he takes you to his.

(...don't look in the kitchen, pet.)

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader

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thetravelingtyper · 1 month

Text

Our Shattered Heart Interlude (Part 2.25) SR (GN! 'Heart' Reader x Taskforce 141)

Loading Track 1 - Work Song by Hozier (SImon RIley One Shot) Kept awake by Soap, Simon takes the time to recollect on a few things close to his Heart.

Warnings: Possible OOC of Simon, Suggestive Content, Cursing, Jealous and Possessive Simon, Konig being slightly unhinged lol

Part 1, Part 2, Part 2.50, Masterlist

As decided by the poll! Here is Simon. You don't need to read the other two parts for this I think but I recommend you do for context! Enjoy - Ash :D

Boys, workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

Simon Riley was a light sleeper if he got any sleep at all. Johnny helped but the Scot tended to talk in his sleep, disturbing him. Price had left that day to return to base but you and the men needed to remain for another two weeks. That day you gave the men an earful about their treatment of you.

You turned to Simon with a simmering fire in your eyes. You walked up to him, poked a finger into his chest, and cursed.

“You! Big trouble mister! You were the worst of you lot! Price got away for now but he’ll hear it soon!”

Simon nodded, giving a gruff apology and taking your hand in his. You blinked and looked into his eyes. There you found a swirl of emotion restrained by his nature. He set a hand to your face and tilted your head up.

“I’m sorry dove. I was angry at you, more myself, for not being able to protect you. I should not have left you.”

Johnny sets a hand between Simon’s shoulders.

You lean into his hand.

“It's ok Simon.”

And with that you let him be.

Simon shuffled out of his room quietly, making sure not to disturb Soap who rolled over, pulling into himself without Simon there. Stretching his neck, Simon red the clock, 2:46 am, he sighed, he was going to feel this tomorrow. The man padded down the hall, passing the sound of Gaz snoring in his room. He turned the corner into the kitchen. Opening the cabinet he reached for a glass and a bottle of bourbon. Sighing he poured himself a glass and leaned against the counter taking a sip. His memories kept him company.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

He and Heart were on a duo mission in the Alps running intel for a botched mission. Everything had gone to shit when Ghost got shot. The shot went clean through, nicking nothing important but he collapsed with a yell from Heart.

“Shit Simon!.” Heart yanked him up and fled.

The night was almost on you. You rushed to pad the wound the best you could, heart quivering. The kiss had changed things between you two but he didn’t speak on it. You had to think fast! Wait! Kortac!

You grabbed your emergency phone and dialed the only person you could quickly reach. König.

The operator had a safehouse in the Austrian Central Alps and you tried your luck…with success. König had picked up with a kurt,

“Who is this? How did you get this number.”

“König it's me! Heart, I need help!”

His voice changed immediately,

“Schatz! Where are you?”

You responded with your coordinates and set Simon down against a tree, his groaning sharpening to a gruff laugh. You turn to him with wide eyes, his bandage having bled through. You curse, putting your phone in his hand to hold while you repack the would, burying the bloody bandages as it begins to snow.

“Schatz!” Königs voice echoes from the phone drawing Simon's sharp eye.

You try to take it from him but Simon grips the phone tighter.

“You called the Austrian?”

It's sharp, venomous even, his eyes trying to focus on you. You just gape at him, the sting of his voice carrying something you couldn't identify. You yank the phone from him while König confirms your location, he could be there in an hour. You praise him with thanks and try your radio again as the weather worsens. Nothing. You pace before you hear a gasp of pain. You turn to see that Simon has pulled himself up to lean against the tree.

“What in the fucking world are you doing LT?!?”

He just glares at the phone. Arms reaching forward to jaggedly pull you to him. The tactical vests kept you inches apart but the glower of his combat mask took up the entirety of your vision.

“You called König?” Simon hissed, having set your rifles aside he cusps your neck and pulled your face as close as he could with your helmets on. You pause before you simmer,

“You’re bleeding like a stuck pig Ghost!”

You want to throw your hands up but his form entraps you. With strength you didn't know he could manage, he turns you both and pins you to the tree, breath heaving from the exertion. He grips the back of your neck with a gloved hand.

“I don’t like him.”

You gawk at the man who’s form starts to sway,

“You got freaking SHOT! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?

He chuckles deeply, caressing your neck, and his free hand reaching to lift his mask above his mouth.

“What is this about Ghos-” You are cut off when he slams his lips against yours for the second time.

Boys, when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

And I was burnin' up a fever

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did

You gasp into the kiss, Simon pinning you further and taking the moment to open the kiss. You shove against him and he grunts, parting with heavy breaths and dilated pupils.

“Simon! What, how, why? You've been shot this is not the freaking time!”

His head staggers to your neck, lips parting with a deep chuckle that reverberates against you. He presses a kiss to your exposed neck that has your legs quaking. Your hands push against him with a little more success, but he is stubborn.

“Stop.” It is a deep-voiced command you push anyway.

“You need to sit down Sir.” He groans at that, but your phone rings again igniting something fierce in Simon. You go to pull it out but he uses his free hand to pin yours back.

“What the fu-” He bites your neck and your head knocks back against the tree neck as the phone continues to ring. He tongues over the mark before tracing up your neck. You give a breathy whimper before looking into Simon's eyes. His pupils are blown but his face cripples in pain as the phone rings. You push him, finding he gives with, stumbling, his bandages reddening.

You dash for the phone, grabbing it as Simon reaching for you collapses, clutching his side. You rush to grab him, answering Königs questions.

“Simon!” He blacks out.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

König arrives in 30 minutes, dressed in winter gear, and helps you to rewrap Simon and take him back to the safe house. You both rush into an open area with two single beds. König and you set Simon down and you are panicking. König grabs medical supplies while you work getting Simon’s equipment off. You strip his top off peeling the bloody compression shirt off and leaving his scarred abdomen open. You rewrap his wound and lean him back against the pillows.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

Simon faded in and out, lured to moments of almost consciousness by your laughter. His eyes momentarily open, muddy eyes from the shot you have given him earlier. As he comes to, unable to move he sees König and you close together, sitting at the table and eating. Something deep in his gut, not nausea nor pain, burned as he saw König reach an arm around you.

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamplight I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me

Night fell quickly as you rewrapped Simon and then used the shower, reappearing in a spare one of König’s shirts and your winter pants. You checked on Simon who was still out cold. Under the eyes of König you run a hand down his masked face, eyes tracing firm and scarred muscle. König then sees your neck his eyes darkening.

“Schatz”

You turn to him in question.

“Are you and the Ghost together.”

The question startles you and you look to the taller man with wide eyes. He takes the moment to stand, and to your surprise pulls off his sniper’s hood. Underneath was a handsome face, pale eyes, and dark brown hair. He reached back and undid his bun letting his hair fall. He steps forward, towering over you.

You stutter a no, a “I don’t Know.”

König nods looking almost sagelike. He reads your body and eyes.

“It's complicated ja?”

You just sigh and nod, a hand running through your hair. You then sit down on the other bed and he joins you as you just spill it out. Everything, Soap, Gaz, Ghost and then Price. You go on for an hour just talking with König listening. As you end he sets a large hand on your knee in comfort as you collapse onto the bed with a huff. Your eyes turn to you and he smiles, making your breath hitch.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

Something in Simon's mind stirs, he shifts and feeling exposed his eyes open. He shifts up against the pillows he is propped against and his eyes seek you. What he sees makes him freeze. Your back is on the bed with an unmasked, lessly dressed König leaning over you. Your laughter chimed out. Simon's heart freezes seeing Königs hand on your knee before it lifts to hover over you. Ghost tears through him then something black and vicious. Simon practically throws himself up with a grunt, then he's on his feet. You shoot up, knocking into König whose eyes fly to the standing Lieutenant.

“Back the fuck off of them.”

He barks the order as he steps forward rage balling his fists up and tensing his muscles. König chuckles and stands, putting himself between you and Simon.

“What will you do Geist?” He says calmly, something in Königs brain raising in glee at a challenge. You wrap an arm around König and pull but the man doesn’t move.

“König! Stop!” But the man continues tempting Simon, like baiting a wolf.

“You can’t protect them, what can you and your team do if I..” König spins around and gives you a knowing look,

“Wha-”

He grabs your face and presses his soft lips to yours. With you in shock, he deepens the kiss in a mock way. Simon snaps, lunging forward and tackling the bigger man as you step back in shock. König is strong but Ghost tears through Simon as rage and pent-up emotional adrenaline rush through him. He flips himself on top of the man, falling on top of him to the floor. His hand grabs for his knife and he pins König to the floor with a growl and a knife to his neck.

“Simon!” You yell it out but the man doesn’t move, dark eyes staring into König as then König laughs, a hearty sound that rumbles under Simon. His ice eyes gleam with delight. He had been wanting to test the famous Ghost. Simon, mind clear and now awake sees this then and stabs the knife into the wood floor next to König. You rush forward then wrap your arms around his bare chest.

“Simon that's enough.” Those possessive eyes then shoot at you in Königs shirt. He surges up off of König and crowds you, backing you up until you fall back onto the bed. He follows, his knee bracing on the other side of your thigh and hands, arms, and chest caging you in. König stays sprawled out watching the show.

Simon's eyes burn into yours, something hot and possessive burns there. You gulp unsure what to do, but the position does something, sending a simmering heat to your belly. Simon breaths heavily, rage dissipating, his eyes catch the spot he marked on your next, and pleasure surges through him. His eyes flicker to König who watches with a smirk, he realizes then. It was a test. Simon’s eyes meet yours and you find your hands reaching for his face to try and comfort him, but he does something a lot more intimate. After pulling his mask up, His lids droop and he dips his mouth into you in a languid kiss. You moan into the kiss and he chases the sound, lowering his weight onto you.

His hands run at the edges of Königs shirt possessively, Jealousy burning at his fingertips as they skim your skin but don't go under. No. Simon parts from your lips, tracing a kiss down your jaw and then to your neck as your arousal builds.

“Si-” He sucks at the junction of your neck that has you arching your back under him. He pauses then kisses there and hums against your skin as his arms work their way around you.

König stands, turns, and enters the bathroom and Simon relaxes fully.

He then, grabbing you, rolls so you're on his chest. The position allows you to finally take a deep breath and still your wildly beating heart. Simon runs a hand through your hair as you stare at him in wonder. His eyes soften before he tisks in pain, You try to get off him but his arms shoot out, muscles pulling you back to him.

“No, please stay.”

His voice is soft, something tender and sweet. You look down at him and feeling a push from your heart, clenching so tightly it takes your breath, you kiss him. SImons eyes widen before closing as your hands brace his wound before traveling up tight muscle. You echo him earlier by then parting and tucking your face into his next in embarrassment.

“No Dove, let me see you.”

Simon murmurs and you pull back as he cradles your cheek. You see the adoration then, in a brief flash before the bathroom door has Simon's eyes becoming guarded again. You take the moment to roll off him and sit up. König reappears with the knife, standing with a smirk regarding you as Simon sits up. You stand to approach König but Simon stands and wraps you in his arms, pulling you flush against him. The Skull glowers at König but the man waves Simon off, offering his knife back by the blade. Simon reaches and takes the blade in silent agreement with the Austrian. You relax then in SImon’s hold as König flips off the light and gets into bed.

“Goodnight Schatz,” he says as he turns his back to you too.

Simon huffs, releasing you to lie down on the bed, pulling himself tenderly under the covers. To your surprise, he pulls his balaclava off. You go to get a wipe for his eye black but he just takes your hand and pulls. You sigh, murmuring a good night to König, and shuffle into bed minding Simon’s wound. He quickly pulls your back to him and engulfs you with his arms. You blush but as the actions of the day finally catch up to you you find yourself nodding off in your Simons arms.

He presses a final kiss to the side of your head and after you fall asleep he murmurs a deep,

“I love you.”

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

SImon finishes his glass of bourbon as there is a noise. There is a quick light as you shuffle out into the kitchen. You then notice Simon.

“Si,” you yawn, “Why are you up?”

He sets his glass aside. He opens his arms and you immediately come forward into them. You press a tender kiss to his jaw and he embraces you.

“Just thinking Dove.”

He pulls you in for a secret kiss, fingers dancing down your arms and intertwining your hands,

“Just thinking.”

End Track

Taglist:

@ghostlythots, @00ops1e, @rafaelacallinybbay, @iloveslasher, @character---obsessed, @ashy-kit , @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @my-amazing-nerdyness , @star-struck-universe , @br0ken-rec0rds , @buckysjuicyplums , @cod-z

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sweet-as-an-angel · 3 months

Text

♡ Bimbo Barracks Bunny ♡

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Rough Sex, Objectification, Dumbification, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Possessive! 141, Mean! 141, Manhandling, Slut-Shaming, Fem! Reader. ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷

Expect a lot of objectification.

Manhandling, too.

And wolf whistling.

It’s absolutely constant when you’re with the 141 – especially considering you’re their 24/7 fuck toy.

More days than not, you’ll be subject to a rough and thorough pounding from one or more of your boyfriends, hear them tell you to “Take it, you stupid whore,” as they slam into you from behind, holding you down over the edge of a counter.

Slut-shaming is to be expected, too.

You can’t wear a single outfit in peace — especially if it’s a skirt or dress.

Someone’s sticking their hand up there on their way past and making a grab for whatever their hands can find purchase on.

Dumbification Central.

“Too fuckin’ stupid for your own good – need a big, strong man to tell you what to do, don’t you."

They’ll buy you things to make up for their roughness with you if (when) they see you limping after an encounter with them. Ghost’s the main offender in this case; for what he can’t convey through words, he does through gifts. And what scandalous gifts they can be.

He especially likes dressing you up like his doll, buying you things he knows will fit you, things that will make it so much harder for him to resist the urge to ravage you whenever you bend over or come and sit on his lap.

They call you ‘Princess’ ‘Bunny’ 'Kitty' ‘Pretty girl’, or (Price’s favourite) ‘Daddy’s girl.’

They definitely smack your backside all the time, btw. The second they see the chance, they’ll pounce on it – on you – reeling back and slapping your ass.

The yelp you make when you feel the sharp sting is just too cute to pass up, as is the wounded, wide-eyed look you give them.

They also love showing their ownership over you: marking you up for the next man to see when he tears your dress off or pushes your skirt up, only to see that someone else has ruined you first (usually with their cum still oozing out of you, too).

Price is the most extreme — he has a crippling breeding kink and it shows.

More often than not, he’ll bend you over his desk and pull your hips as close to his as humanly possible, trying to get as deep inside you as he can.

“My girl, only good for takin’ my cock and havin’ my kids – gonna make me into a real daddy, hm?”

Entertain his kink for even a second and he’ll make sure you’re not going anywhere even after he’s done with you; he has to keep you plugged up and make sure his seed takes, after all.

Ghost loves to steal you away and throw you over his shoulder when he’s needy.

He’s like a caveman in the way he throws you onto the nearest surface without ceremony and tears your clothes off, spreading your legs and pressing his clothed bulge against your cunt.

He growls, too. Makes you squeal when he grips your panties by the bridge and tears them off, leaving you exposed and ready for him to use as much he likes.

He treats you as his personal cum bucket, emptying his load into you as many times as he pleases, using you.

“Good-for-nothing slut, just beggin’ to be chased down and fucked in that tight little outfit. Did’ya think I wouldn’t notice? Practically had your arse hangin’ outta your skirt, just waitin’ to have your guts rearranged by me.”

Soap’s a menace - a cruel one - and takes his time with you, edges you, makes sure that foreplay drags on for a good hour or two before actually stuffing his girth inside you (given he has the time).

He likes to make you nice and desperate – likes to have you begging for him and eating out of his hand before he’ll entertain the idea of letting you take him.

“Think ya deserve it, lass? Think ya deserve to have me fuck whatever thoughts you’ve got rollin’ round in that empty head a’ yer’s out?”

He’ll grin down at you as you pant and plead, shutting you up by making you suck his fingers.

“Well, if ye have any thoughts in there.”

Gaz is the gentlest of the 141, but any man is subject to a power shift. Especially against someone they perceive as less intelligent than them.

And you’re no exception.

Gaz is the most likely to experience post-nut clarity, realising (and feeling immediate shame for) the way he spoke to you, the way he called you his “Fucking slut with no other purpose except to get me off,” was potentially hurtful to you.

Literally will not forgive himself – he’ll apologise, buy you things, hang his head in shame until you manage to (eventually) convince him that it’s alright, that you don’t mind, and that you actually enjoy when he turns a bit feral.

As do they all.

They’ll pimp you out to König sometimes, too. But only if they can sit in and watch supervise.

There’s something just so disgustingly satisfying about watching you get your insides visibly rearranged by the 6’10 Austrian – especially when they can see the heavy bump of his cock in your stomach, making you cry out with every slam of his tip against your cervix.

“Scheiße– where’d you find this pretty little thing, Ghost? Didn’t think you were allowed prostitutes on base,”

He’s just as – if not more – mean than the 141. Especially if you cum before he does.

Doesn’t matter if you tell him you’re overstimulated, he’s still going to get his release, whether you like it or not.

“Shut it, Brat – you’ll take my cock for as long as I want you to. Keep whining and I’ll choke you with it.”

You’ll receive no help from the 141. Not when they’re on the precipice of an orgasm, at least.

Ghost will even goad König, telling him to show you who’s boss, to shove it in deeper – wanna see her cry.

You always end up covered in cum afterwards, panting while your cunt leaks with König’s semen, the clink of the man responsible’s belt in your periphery as he sorts himself out.

You’re always very well taken care of afterwards, though. Bath, bed, and plenty of rest, with as much food as you could want. And a cuddle session, of course.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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