ultkenneth

[ultkenneth]

GN Reader, angst no comfort (?), started as 7 words so this might be all over the place lol. Wanted this to be longer (and more detailed/coherent) but didn’t know what else to put, sorry. Dogtag pic credit @/Toonie52 on flickr/pinterest.

CAN’T YOU SEE THAT I’M HERE? DON’T MAKE ME DISAPPEAR, WITH YOUR FEARS love is banned, gemini

It’s a chilly night, trees rustling at the sharp wind. Ghost sits against the wall, fingers gripping the blades of grass. He knows you hate the smell of cigarette smoke, too many bitter memories, so he respects your wishes.

He glances over at you, back lying down as your arms act as a pillow. “You think they know?” You question, tilting your head to look at him before looking back up at the starry night.

Ghost shakes his head, then remembers you can’t see him. “Of what?”

“You know..” you draw out, “don’t tell me you forgot already.”

He huffs before shaking his head. “‘Course they know,” double edged sword, if you ask him.

A sigh leaves you as you continue his words, “they always know.” His grip tightens on the grass, pulling them out from the soil.

“Still out here?” Price’s voice disrupts the silence after a few moments, smoke pillowing from his lips. He’s standing beside the door that leads inside. Ghost nods silently, eyes trailing towards you at the smell. Price follows his line of sight. “….nausea? Headache?”

Ghost doesn’t answer, and neither do you.

You were always a quiet one, mostly only talking when spoken to. An introvert, if you will. Even while growing up you hardly spoke, rarely speaking to anyone but Simon. Footsteps as light as a feather, too, made it easier for you to pickpocket.

He supposes that’s why you were picked to be a stealth and sniper specialist. Light on your feet, quiet, quick to read people and situations. Ghost wanted to be like you. Your response? “You need to be better than me.” Easier said than done.

“Fuckin’ hell, man,” you yell over his weapon’s fire down range, “you wanna hit the target this time?”

Ghost lets out a breath and flips the guns safety on, pressing the magazine’s release button before setting both on the table, barrel down range.

“You okay?”

He reluctantly nods at your question, a little too quickly. An automated response. You sigh at the action and with a shake of your head point at the target he was firing at.

“And so is the target, nothing vital hit.” You pause for a moment, as if debating. “Wanna hit the target this time?” You decide to not prod, knowing he’ll tell you when he’s ready. Simon has always liked that about you.

His hands clench and release before nodding once again, picking up the empty magazine and slowly but efficiently adding bullets. A mind numbing task. After the last bullet was added, a new voice spoke out.

“You good, Ghost?” A nod. “Taken your meds?” He shakes his head at Gaz’s questions even though he’s had a constant migraine. Gaz just gives him a disappointed but concerned look.

So he tried, just for you. And the look on your face when he got promoted nearly made his knees weak. A proud smile as you congratulated him, a hug secluded in the empty barracks.

You always respected his boundaries of physical touch, yet the moment he allowed your arms to close around him, he felt as if the world was lifted from his shoulders.

He never knew a hug could feel so warm.

“Simon,” he blinked once, twice, before looking up at you, “something on your mind?”

He shook his head silently, no. “I’m fine.”

“We’re almost back.” You finally say why you broke him from his thoughts after a few seconds of silent suspicion. “I’ll let you cuddle with me to help you sleep.”

He doesn’t need to look to know you have that teasing smirk on your face, words said with a lilt. “Cold day in hell ‘fore that happens.” The sound of your laugh forms a small smile under his mask, unnoticeable unless you looked at the crease of his eyes.

“Guess hell freezes over a lot, then.” Ghost holds back an eye roll at your taunt, shaking his head slightly instead.

“Ye hearin’ this Price!” Soap exclaims suddenly, refocusing Ghost’s attention to his teammates’ conversation. “That dinnae happen, quit lyin’ lad.”

You choose that outburst to give one last smirk and a shake of your head towards him before settling into a comfortable silence. He watches you leave first as the helicopter lands on base.

When he returns to his barrack he finds you sitting in a chair, pencil twirling expertly in your hand. You drop it next to his journal at the sight of him.

“Thought the door was locked.” Ghost mumbles as he takes a seat on the edge of his bed, hands untying his boots before kicking them off.

The chairs wheels squeak as you turn to look at him. “It is.” This time he rolls his eyes as he takes off the skull balaclava, ignoring the teasing smile he knows you have. “Tired?”

“Always.” You laugh softly at that, watching as he shifts to prop his elbows up with his knees, hands covering his eyes. A moment of silence passes by before you speak up again.

“Simon.”

He feels you place a hand on his head, carding your fingers through his hair, name soft on your tongue. He didn’t even hear you get close to him.

“You need to let me go.”

His head shoots up, eyes searching and a hand grasping out to nothing. You’re nowhere to be seen. Simon nervously runs his hands through his hair and down his face, eyes stinging with an uncomfortable squeeze to his chest.

He stutters out a breath as a hand rubs around his throat, eyes widening as he brushes against empty skin. Simon’s heart drops. He quickly searches his desk drawer, the journal, his bed, his pockets, his bags, the closet — he tears up his entire barracks until the glint catches his eyes.

Your dog tags, right where he supposedly left them. He grips them tightly, slowly sinking to the floor as his other hand grips the edge of the sink. Simon lets out a shaky breath, forehead pressing against the cool porcelain.

His heart clenches at the thought of losing the last thing he has to remind himself of you.

[ultkenneth]

Male (sub) Reader, handjob, overstim., multiple orgasms, ‘good boy’ used, ooc (?)

WITH THIS HEART, THIS SMILE, THESE EYES, THIS TOUCH, I’LL SEDUCE YOU TONIGHT invitation, uhm jung hwa

Gaz is a gentleman. He learned from the best of the best (price). Soap knew, Ghost knew, everybody and their momma knew. He’s what every parent wants their son to be like, or even better, to date.

But he’s also a cheeky bastard.

Teasing touches here, a small comment there, purposefully riling you up until you break under his next touch. His hands already unzipped your pants as his lips claimed yours, long fingers dipped beneath the briefs. Gaz didn’t bother to pull your pants off, just enough to take your leaking dick into his hands like the good boyfriend he is.

He’s got your hoodie pulled half way up by his free hand, head lowered to kiss and bite around your chest. But you’re already twitching under his skilled hands, soiled with your cum and his spit. One more, he murmured against your lips, palm ghosting your head that had you whimpering.

Just one more, and the pleasure filled brain of yours agreed. So with a shaky nod from you he eagerly starts his pace again, hand sliding way too easily with wet sounds. Sweat builds on your body, hips twitching at every upwards stroke and you’re sure you’d pass out if he didn’t squeeze the base of your dick.

“Stay with me,” and you nod dumbly, leaning up to try to capture his lips with yours, to ground yourself. “Good boy…” He smirks at your half lidded teary eyes and blown out pupils, hungrily kissing your lips as his hands speed up. Your body constantly twitching and there’s drool dripping down your chin but all he can think about is how handsome and pretty and absolutely debauched you look.

“Kyle— fuck..” you whimper, head tilting back as your hands grip into his arm and wrist. Rolling your hips into his hands to ride out the early orgasm, even though it’s because you’re sensitive. But he presses your hips firmly against the bed, a mischievous grin spreading on his face.

“You can go again, right?” He purrs, as if you haven’t already came twice, hand slowly restarting its pace around your overstimulated dick. “I know you can do it, luvie, just one more f’me…”

[ultkenneth]

Price aftercare anon imma keep it a buck with you, my mind is blank 💔 I mean like,, I have an idea but it just doesn’t seem like price (im putting ‘random character’ for it)

[ultkenneth]

Lowkey hate being part of a(n) niche/unpopular fandom,, like who the hell knows about Lo Wang and his pookie Hoji from the Shadow Warrior series? My goat Jack from Ghostrunner? I can help Ishi feel like a human again and then fuck around with Grayson in Bulletstorm 💔💔💔🥀

[ultkenneth]

Okay valid.. just price content 🙏🏼 jealous price 🤨 angry price 🤔 price in general 🧐 anything 🙏🏼 I’LL EAT THAT SHIT UP IN A HEARTBEAT

-price aftercare anon

Hm hmm I’ll need to think of scenarios then, but I already have like two fics lined up so it might be a while

[ultkenneth]

Saw a Snapchat vid and all I could think about was Makarov… Male (sub) Reader, choking/asphyxiation, fainting for a few secs, calls you dog idk

JUST LOSE YOURSELF TO ME, SHOW ME JUST AS YOU ARE i love it, dean

Imagine being Makarov’s guard dog. You managed to get in trouble and he can’t have disobedience, so now he’s got you wearing an old soviet looking gas mask with a long tube that’s connected to one of those air filters for a “training” session with him.

You don’t even think this counts as training when he’s covering the hole at the bottom of the air filter with his hand, essentially cutting off your oxygen. If he wanted to suffocate you, all he had to do was put you in one of those gas chambers again like the last few times (for loyalty, he said). But this? This is new, and you almost want to ask him what porn site he got this from but you know better than to question him.

So now you’re kneeling with him behind you, arms wrapped around the back of his legs so you don’t move, and the unfamiliar warmth radiating from the closeness nearly makes you nervous. Makarov’s saying something but you can barely hear it over your own heartbeat and shaky breaths from the lack of oxygen.

He lets go of air filter to rub your shoulders almost in a warning, but you’re gasping for air and leaning forward you don’t even feel it. A hand pulls your head back harshly, thudding against his legs as he grins down at you, like he can see the hazy look in your eyes despite the tinted gas mask goggles.

“Непослушный пес [naughty dog],” he pushes you forward, body nearly falling onto the ground from how weak it is before he grabs onto your wrists in a harsh grip, twisting your arms behind you. “Disobeying my orders. You’re lucky you’re so useful, otherwise I’d suffocate you right now.”

Makarov pulls you back against his thighs before picking up the air filter again, immediately covering the hole. The whine that leaves your mouth is barely heard behind the mask but he chuckles darkly anyways, eyes trained on how you’re desperately trying to follow orders and not claw out of his grip from instinct.

“Disgusting,” he taunts, “getting hard from this, you really are just a dog.” The words barely makes sense to you, but you force yourself to look down anyways. He’s literally suffocating you and you’re hard. The sight has blood rush to your face (more than the asphyxiation) and even more to your dick.

Your eyes are bleary and teary, hands gripping into his legs but too nervous to do anything else. He pulls your head back against his thighs again, one hand still covering the air filter and the other now gripping your throat. There’s dots in your vision and your grip on his legs weaken as the lack of oxygen catches up you.

You can feel your dick leaking through your pants as your arms and body finally go slack, and if he didn’t have a grip on your throat your body would’ve fallen to the ground. Makarov chuckles at your unconscious state, a hand so graciously holding your head up as he finally uncovers the air filter.

Only when he feels you stir does he pull you up and push you against the wall to help you with your problem, but only because you followed his orders so well this time.

[ultkenneth]

I would KILL for another price fic from you, can you do price x male reader aftercare?

Aftercare,, man I don’t even know how to write aftercare…

[ultkenneth]

Male (subbot(?)) Reader, fully clothed in gear, choking, handjob, lowkey mean and ooc 09 ghost and roach, roach speaks in this (inspired by this twt link (~47secs - 1:03))

BABY, I CAN DO THIS EVERY DAY AND NIGHT, JUST TRUST AND FOLLOW ME TONIGHT drive, stray kids

You don’t even remember how it happened; one minute you were sitting on a chair talking to them and the next your hands were tied behind the chair, Ghost behind you as he sensually drags his hands up the front of your gear and against your balaclava covered throat.

Roach standing to the side of you but his hands were unzipping your camo pants and taking out your dick. He must’ve seen the way it twitched at the cool air and unfamiliar touch because he chuckled something dark; and even though his mask is on, you swear he’s smirking.

A rough pull from Roach tries to jerk you forward but Ghost is quick to pull you back down by your throat, essentially choking you and it has your dick dripping. You hear the former chuckle once more at that as he slides his glove covered palm over the tip. The feeling of the rough material nearly makes you tear up.

“Think he liked that,” he mumbles, glancing at Ghost, “do it again.”

Almost as if they practiced this beforehand, Ghost eagerly accepts the demand. Gloved hand pressing against your throat and you close your eyes almost too quickly at the feel with a groan. You barely hear him mumble something before his free hand slots over your mouth.

Your body twitches at every pull Roach makes against your dick, shaky breaths and quiet moans muffled by Ghost. You’re hot. So hot that not even the heavy gear you have on and the two men you were stuck in between of could make sense. This shouldn’t have your dick leaking like a faucet, especially not when Roach nudges Ghosts hand out of the way to choke you instead, other hand still stroking your dick.

“Look at him,” Ghost mumbles with a sly smirk under his mask, “he’s leakin’ so much, poor bastard gettin’ off to this.” His hand travels down and under your gear, grasping and pulling whatever he can get to. You can’t help the way your body jolts and twitches at their touches, his other hand gripping your jaw and tilting your head further back against the chair so he’s practically staring down at you.

“Stay quiet f’us, yeah?”

You don’t know how much more you can take.

[ultkenneth]

you write male reader AND you have a Skylar pfp…… you’re my goat 💗💗💗💗💗

Already someone’s goat,, I’m moving up in life fr

[ultkenneth]

Male (subbot) Reader, lowkey soft, handholding while fucking like freaks, calls you sunshine among other things, possible ooc, I don’t like this <3

I NEED YOUR BLESSIN’, BABY, I’LL FUCK YOU IF YOU LET ME, BABY love, dean

Price has you on your back, hands gripping into your thighs like it’s his lifeline as he fucks into you. Sweet moans spilling from your kiss bitten lips, dick leaking pathetically onto your stomach with every thrust. But Price, ever the one to know how to please his partner, is too good.

It should be a crime the way he fills you up, thick cock pressing against all the right spots that has you moaning like a whore. Nails creating crescent shapes on your thighs right next to the hickeys and bites he so lovingly gave you, but it’s too much and the feel makes your legs tremble around him.

“Hold on hold on—“ you whine, tapping a hand against his thigh.

“Too much?” He mumbles, slowing down to a stop, rubbing a hand against your thigh affectionately.

“Yeah…” you nod, catching your breath as he throbs inside you.

“‘M sorry, sunshine.” He presses a kiss against your cheek before leaning back, free hand rubbing up and down your chest.

“It’s alright.” And like the man he is, he patiently waits until you nod before slowly restarting his pace. Leisurely rutting into you as he gently parts your legs a little more. Price hums appreciatively as you moan softer, a hand gripping into the sheets as the other grips onto his wrist.

He moves a hand from your thigh to bring up the hand gripping his wrist to his lips, lightly kissing it that makes you whimper and pre cum drip from your dick. He lets your hand down to instead hold onto it, fingers interlocking as his hips roll into yours.

The action has a blush rising to your face and your heart beats faster. This man is gonna be the death of you… You push your face into the sheets to try to cover it but he tch’s disapprovingly with a shake of his head.

“Don’t hide from me, love.” Price cups your jaw and tilts your head back towards him, a grin forming on his face at the sight of you. All blushy and pupils blown wide with the help of his slow and sensual pace. “Holdin’ hands turns you on baby? I’ll keep that in mind…”

[ultkenneth]

Hot take but I think Gaz would have the best kisses (gn reader).

MY BODY WANTS YOU BARE, REMEMBER YOUR SCENT, A FLAVOR JUST LIKE YOU same scent, oneus

Price would be into smooches and pecks. A quick kiss on your temple or forehead or even one to your hand type of kiss, like a true gentleman. Tugs the belt-loop of your jeans or puts a hand on the back of your neck to get you to pay attention to him, and then he’s tilting your head whichever way would make it the easiest to kiss.

On the uncommon chance your lips meet he’s quick to pull back after a sweet kiss, just a small peck and then he’s pulling away to tap your ass lovingly. Does he think his beard and mustache would start to hurt you if he did any more? (he’s waiting til marriage (maybe))

Ghost would either be quick and soft in fear of (somehow) hurting you or (rarely) hungry and mean. Depends on the day honestly. On the off chance he’s feeling vulnerable then he can’t keep his hands off you, constantly pulling your lips close and your body even closer — to reassure him you’re still alive and breathing.

Despite his actions they’d still be soft kisses to your temple or the corner of your lips; just loves the feel of your body on his more than anything. If he’s feeling particularly horny then he’ll tug the back collar of your shirt towards himself just so he can pry your lips open with his tongue or thumb to taste you. Bastard.

Soap would be sloppy and needy. You can’t tell me this man won’t angle your head; one hand pressed against the side of your head as he pulls you in, teeth clashing with an uncomfortable sound as his other hand tugs the waistband of your pants to press against him. He’ll keep leaning onto you, until he’s practically pushing your upper body back and pressing you against the nearest surface.

There’s saliva and a little blood from a newly cut lip dripping between your chins and you’ll have to tug his mohawk back to get him off you for some air. He doesn’t mean to hurt you, but he’s just so eager to place his lips on yours.

But Gaz? It’s like you can feel every single emotion running through his mind when he kisses you. It’s like he knows what type of kiss you want just by the look on your face. Anything you want from him, he’ll do it and serve it on a silver platter and then some.

He does all three listed above too, holding your cheeks and pressing kisses on all the available skin he can get to, only stopping when you try to pull away. Loves to tilt your head for better access and loves passionate kisses.

He’ll kiss your temple or head any chance he gets just to see the slight blush on your cheeks or the quirk of your lips. Will also tap your ass or grip your thigh before, during, or after a kiss. He’ll press your body against his as his lips claim yours, a hand against your jaw and the other wondering a little too close to your ass.

He’ll keep pushing and pulling until your hand grips his shirt but he’ll keep devouring your lips anyways. If he’s feeling a little mean then he’ll push you against a counter or wall, hands gripping your hips as his lips finds purchase on your jaw and neck. Only after feeling satisfied with the purple marks littering your neck he’ll go right back up to your lips, tilting your head as his tongue licks into your mouth.

Likes it messy; spit pooling in both mouths and every time he lets off for a breath there’s saliva dripping down your chin, your lips bruised and wet before going back in. Loves to back away and watch as the string of saliva breaks.

[ultkenneth]

Why’d bro moan like this

[ultkenneth]

Imagine explaining somethin to Soap who continuously asks questions about it while varying his attention to you and his journal. You assume it’s for notes since he likes to jot shit down but no, it’s just so he can use you as his pretty muse for a little longer.

[ultkenneth]

Has this been done yet

[ultkenneth]

Somethin bout masked men… idc what you look like underneath, if I can feel your eyes on me I’m already on my knees ! (spectre from bo3 started my mask kink… not fair they have a hot ass voice too </3 “target eliminated” you mean my heart?) Male reader in mind, but can be read as gender neutral.

WE SUCKIN’ DICK ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT, AND THROUGH THE MORNIN’ xxxkirby, softwilly

Ghost

You don’t know how you managed to get Ghost of all people to agree to a blow job, nor did you care enough to think back on it when his gloved hands grip your hair to push you further down his dick; a groan leaving your throat to reverberate against him. Barely hear him mumble a shaky ‘bloody hell’ before your free hand reaches up to pull down his pants a little more to fondle his balls, which earns you a delicious jolt and hiss from him.

“Careful.” you hear him mumble, a gloved thumb moving to the corner of your lips to break the seal around him, globs of saliva and his pre cum dripping against your chin. Ghost makes a light chuckle sound as he watches you sink further down his cock, dead brown/blue eyes practically staring into your soul beneath his mask. “Wouldn’t want ya to choke, yeah?” 100% wants you to get choked by his dick if you’d let him.

Would last the longest among the other two.

Keegan

He’s got such a chill/nonchalant personality, so used to keeping quiet and staying in the shadows that I doubt he’d be any louder than whimpers and shaky breaths, even if he’s in the comfort of his own room/barracks. Would look everywhere except at you and how good your hands feel around him, tilting his head back or to the side and release a breath he didn’t know he was even holding as you mouth at his tip.

Keegan’s trigger finger flexing and relaxing as he gets closer to his release, twitching to grab onto something to feel like he’s in control, to call the shots or to ground himself, he doesn’t know. So he goes for the next best thing, the dog tags around your neck. Doesn’t pull hard, but enough for you to feel it against your throat before pulling you away to cum on your hands around him with a soft whimper and a ‘c-close— fuck..’ his baby blues covered behind closed lids. Truly unfortunate he kept his mask on, you’d die to see what his expression looked like.

A man of short worded sentences, feel like he’d last the second longest.

König

Whiny for such a big guy, you really think he’d know what to do with himself? Especially knowing he was bullied when he was younger and still has severe social anxiety? Wrong. The moment you reach for his pants, he’s already putty between your hands, voice shaky and pupils blown wide. His dick already soaked in pre cum before you even jerk him off properly, isn’t he cute?

König can’t help but whimper under the sniper veil when he feels your palm glide across his swollen tip, built torso tensing at the unfamiliar pleasure underneath his clothes/gear. Hands trembling and uncertain where to put them before deciding to try to cover his moans with one, the other digging into his own thigh, is he too scared to accidentally hurt you?

Will 100% revert back to Austrian-German once he gets close or is overstimulated. Moans light and shaky (have you heard his eng. va?), and the moment you lick a stripe up his dick? Instantly cumming, mumbling apologies between gasps and whines and twitching thighs. König’s really glad he kept his mask veil thing on, otherwise you’d see the embarrassing look of his pink flushed face.

“W-warten- nicht— S-scheiße...

[W-wait- don’t— F-fuck…]”

[ultkenneth]

Yknow that Loki show? In that one ep where he keeps rewinding time to prevent that reactor from exploding and that one astronaut lookin dude from dying and even takes centuries to know everything about it yet the dude still dies and the reactor blows up cause fate will always have its way? (or something like that, I never watched the show)

Imagine that but with MW2 Ghost and Roach x Half-God! Male/gn reader, mw2 canon deaths, was gonna do soaps death but didn’t know how to fit it in well. Mostly a drabble/imagine. If anyone wants to expand on this go ahead cause this shit is short. Not proofread plus I hate how I wrote this… messy writing

It was never wise for a God to meddle with humans, but you couldn’t help yourself. You’re used to the loneliness it brings, yet as the centuries pass the feeling never lessens. ‘You’ll grow feelings for them. You’ll feel things you haven’t felt since you were alive’, they said, ‘you won’t be able to change their destiny’. You should’ve listened. The Elders are always right in that sense.

But those young men, sacrificing their lives for a better world that won’t exist in a few hundred years. It almost seemed like another higher being was looking over them with the amount of times they’ve scraped by death. Maybe that was what intrigued you about the tf 141 enough to pose as a human with forged credibility to get into that task force. Oh, what a mistake that was.

Is this what the Elders meant? The closeness and warmth they brought? The jokes and the love? The deaths? They felt like home; the home you had before you turned into a God. Like family. But why did it feel so selfish? Even if they’ve only known what you wanted them to know, why do you care so much when you’ve only known them for a few years? You shake your head dismissively, no time to think when you have another mission. Maybe you guys can do something fun after?

Oh, you didn’t expect Shepherd to be the bad guy in the end, not until he pulled out the revolver and shot Roach then Ghost, and eventually you. Even if the bullet didn’t kill the human body you used, the fire definitely would. And it tore your heart apart when you could still see Roach’s eyes glaring at Shepherd, even as he bled and the fire grew stronger. Humans can’t kill Gods, let alone half ones, but you’re sure if Shepherd knew you were alive he’d do anything to change that.

But you couldn’t let them die like that. So you try warning Ghost and Roach about the betrayal of Shepherd, but they never listened, or refused to. Why do they have to deny your help? Don’t they see you’re trying to help them? Why do humans have to be so stubborn? Maybe if you pushed them out of the way? Dead. If you took the bullet for them? Dead. What if you killed Shepherd beforehand? Dead. Maybe if the mission gets called off? Dead. Dead. Dead. Why can’t you have anything nice?

One more try won’t hurt, right? Maybe, just maybe, this time will be different…

Again, and again, and again, and again. How much time have you lost doing this? How many times do have to change time to let them live? You’ve tried pleading with the God(dess) of fate, with the Goddess(es) of destiny, but nothing comes out of it. Why do you have to be so weak? Why can’t you do something— anything?

But your powers are limited. You’re no God of destiny or fate, Ghost and Roach will die and all you can do is stand there and watch.

[ultkenneth]

Hesh: What the FUCK was that driving, sergeant?

Keegan: I got us out of there alive, didn’t I?

Merrick, already used to it: Barely

Logan: