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#Cod Makarov x reader
saturncodedstarlette · 8 months
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“If I betray you, I betray myself…”
“If I betray him, I betray my country.”
“My country is very dear to me.”
“Dearer than I?”
“No.. no. Not dearer than you.”
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ghxst3m8 · 5 months
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Dangerously yours
Y/N: If I betray you, I betray myself... If I betray him, I betray my country. My country is very dear to me...
Makarov: Dearer than I?
Y/N: No….no. Not dearer than you.
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thegnomelord · 2 months
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Good Dog
CW: NSFW, DARK-FIC, murder, gore, power imbalance, size difference(reader's bigger), description of torture and brainwashing, oral, anal, blood as lube, plot and exposition with porn, pet play(collars and leashes), toxic relationship, dub-con, very very self indulgent.
Моя гончая- my hound, Хороший солдат - good soldier, Расслабьтесь, братья мои - relax, my brothers, приносить - fetch, есть - eat
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The thick door and walls of the private room do nothing to damped the bass of the club pounding in his ears, the annoying music made bearable by the high of a recent victory. Puffs of cigarette smoke lazily curl in the air as Makarov leans further back into the couch, the buzzing sting of a fresh tattoo helping him relax. The scent of expensive liquor only adds to the heady atmosphere, crystal clear vodka swirling in his glass before Makarov takes a sip. His dark eyes peer over the rim of his glass, like doorways to a dark abyss, his gaze dancing across the faces of his most trusted men before settling on the lieutenant's as the man tries to prove his worth with pointless words.
Above all else, Makarov values loyalty.
It doesn't matter how strong a man is if he can't follow orders. The number of soldiers he can lead is pointless when he can't keep his men alive. How well he can shoot is meaningless when he can't devote himself to a cause. A man who is disloyal is a man of single use.
Makarov doesn't even try to listen to whatever drivel the lieutenant's spouting, he doesn't see a reason to sour his mood when he already knows everything: the embezzling, the lying, the adorable double agent act. He has you to thank for that, you'd sniffed the lieutenant out the second you met him, diligently uncovering every speck of dirt the lieutenant had attempted to hide from Makarov.
And you? You are very loyal. His loyal hound.
His fingers curl around the leash, the smooth black leather sliding against his calloused palms. A barely there tug is all it takes for you to lean down over the back of the couch, bracing one large hand near his head for support as the other remains over the grip of your sidearm. You loom over him, and while Makarov may be a fearsome man, he can't deny the type of foreboding fear a goliath like you inspires — a towering figure always a step behind him, broad body big enough to easily cover him fully if you need to take a bullet for him, arms strong and palms wide to easily crack a man's skull.
Settling the glass down he takes another drag of his cigarette, "Hound," Another tug — sharper, harsher; such a small correction yet the fact you needed it at all has acrid disappointment burning on your tongue — makes you bend down more, your face now next to his. He doesn't draw attention to the reprimand, breathing out a puff of smoke near your face. "Were you listening, моя гончая?"
It's a pointless question, he knows you were listening, he trained you to. But he asks because he loves to see the way your eyes darken, jaw tight. The cigarette smoke dances in the air, making the club's low lights reflect off the sharp spikes adorning the thick collar snuggly wrapped around your throat. Your day collar suits you well, no different than the spiked collars put on hunting hounds.
"Yes sir." You answer, your attention now solely on the lieutenant.
Makarov hums, eyes flickering from the lieutenant to you. "And?" He chuckles and lets the leash go, his word keeping you in place as he casually pats your neck. "What did you hear?"
"Lies. . ." The slow slide of his fingers across the uncovered parts of your throat makes your breath stutter, static crackling beneath your skin. "I heard lies, sir." Your answer causes the lieutenant to try and sputter excuses and denials, all cut short by the harsh look you give him.
Makarov chuckles, hooking a finger over the silver loop at the front of your collar, pulling on it and tilting his head so his lips can ghost across your jaw. "Хороший солдат." Makarov murmurs. His stubble scratches your skin as his lips brush a path to your ear, so very close to a lover's kiss.
But a brush of skin is all it is. Nothing more. Your body earns for more, to turn your head and experience the bruising possessiveness of his kiss once again, to feel his teeth bite down on your lip until blood floods both of your mouths. But you don't move; A spoiled dog isn't loyal and Makarov won't lavish you with attention for nothing. no — you must earn it.
"Stay." The soft 'click' of the leash unclipping sounds the same as a sentencing gavel, the strip of leather falling away until only his word keeps you from tearing the lieutenant's throat out with your teeth. Makarov smirks against your skin, his words honey sweet to your ears as he whispers: "Sick him."
That seals the ex-lieutenant's fate.
You're on the lieutenant in an instant, crashing into him like a truck. Makarov leans back and lights up another cigarette as you stomp down on the man's leg, all the weight you carry around bearing down on his bones until they break, erasing any foolish thoughts of escape when you snap the bones of his other ankle; Makarov has truly taught you well.
The screams of a traitor are much better than the atrocious club music, letting him enjoy the smooth burn of the vodka as another stomp breaks a couple of ribs. Some of his men are still nervous around you, trying not to shuffle in their seats lest they grab your attention and become the new outlet of your violence.
"Расслабьтесь, братья мои." Makarov gives a charming smile, resting his ankle on his knee as he takes another drag. "Hound is well trained, you have nothing to fear." He chuckles, lazily watching you as he holds conversation with his lieutenants. Honestly, you're like a dog with a new toy, tossing the man around and pinning him down under your heavy body, each swing of your fists steadily turning the ex-lieutenant's face into pulp.
It's as entertaining for him as it is therapeutic for you.
And to think Price had tried to suppress all that beautiful savageness you possessed.
Makarov remembers how you'd been nothing but a snarling and cursing ball of anger when his men had captured you after a botched mission. He had been both annoyed and amused by how loyal you were to Price, weathering every beating and starving and humiliation with the same 'fuck you' response, baring your teeth like the cornered dog you were. With days turning to months and your resolve refusing to waver under their 'care' Makarov had considered just putting you down, sending a nice video of blowing your skull open to Price but oh — is he glad he decided to indulge in the game your stubbornness presented.
He set out to train you like he would any mongrel mutt, clear expectations making it easy to tell whether your actions would get you a reward or an even worse punishment, giving small rewards for the behavior he wanted; not snarling at him might earn you a better meal. Biting your lip and taking your beating without back talk could get you a couple of minutes outside the claustrophobic walls of your cell. Letting him touch and inspect your body without complaint might reward you with a book or some other little creature comfort he could, and did, easily take away the moment you stepped out of line.
Of course you were weary, perceptive enough to know when he was scheming. But every man has his limits, yours were simply reached when he handed you official C.I.A documents proclaiming you as K.I.A, the mission itself creatively rewritten to sound like you had gone and deserted to the enemy — no one was looking for you, no one was coming to save you, your captain, Price, wasn't coming to save you.
He had taken great enjoyment in running his fingers across your scalp as you clutched the documents in a white knuckled grip, your mind far too worn down to question or guard against the soft touches. His lips had brushed against your ear, soothingly raspy voice comforting you — you're a good soldier, strong, reliable, everything a commander could dream of. It wasn't your fault you trusted the wrong man, truly, what a shame to have your loyalty repaid with betrayed like that.
After that, it became laughably easy to train you. He stuck with simple commands, spoken only in Russian so he could amuse himself with the way your head would tilt before you'd perk up, recognition making your dull eyes brighten before you did what he wanted in exchange for a small scrap of his affection, learning to seek his praise and appreciate his touch even when your body still prickled with disgust. So when he handed you the knife, standing so close you could have easily slit his throat, and ordered you to kill another member of your previous taskforce, you hadn't hesitated for a second. "Good boy." He had purred, caressing your jaw as he used his thumb to wipe away the blood staining your cheek.
"Hound." His voice is as effective as any physical tug on your leash, making you stop mid punch with your fist inches away from the ex-lieutenant's caved in face. You're covered in blood, the rich crimson bringing out the violence swirling in your eyes.
Yet you look at him with utter adoration he wants to shove his cock deep down your throat just so he can see your tears smudge the blood on your cheeks. "Приносить." He taps his thigh.
You nod your head, grabbing the knife strapped to your thigh. There's no hesitation in your movements as you shove the knife into the ex-lieutenant's throat. An arc of blood spurts across your front when you yank it out just to stab another spot, the man coughing and choking as you cut through cartilage and muscle until with a good yank and a sickening 'crack!' you separate the head from the body.
Makarov had never seen the appeal of large hulking brutes until you — your body had filled back out with muscle and fat nicely after you became his, towering body demanding attention simply by existing as you stand up. The loud stomp of your feet and the blood staining your body making you look like a barbarian, casting a shadow over him before you kneel at his feet, offering the decapitated head as a knight does to his king.
Oh yes, he definitely sees the appeal now.
"Good dog." He purrs, reaching out to stroke your jaw, smearing some of the blood with his thumb. Fingers sliding down to hook on the silver ring on your collar he pulls your head closer. "Do you think you earned a reward?"
It's a test. One you're intimately familiar with. The judgmental stares of Makarov's trusted men are the last thing in your mind when the closeness of his body and the sharp crisp scent of his cologne threatens to shatter your resolve. "Only if you permit it, sir." Your throat feels dry, trying not to show how eager you are for his attention as you place the head on the floor so you don't get a drop of blood on him.
Makarov smirks, "Smart dog," His hands move to the back of your neck, unbuckling the collar. You're no longer ashamed to admit you feel naked as the thick piece of leather is pulled away; the time when you didn't have a collar wrapped around your neck feel like a distant memory and now the sensation of breathing without it pressing against your skin is disturbing. You have to bite your lip to keep the low whine from escaping your chest.
His hand wraps securely around your throat, bringing your breath back to you. Your Adam's apple bobs beneath his fingers as he traces the 'V.M' shallowly carved across your throat. "It's already starting to fade." He tuts, squeezing his fingers to restrict your breathing just the slightest bit more. "We'll need to have it tattooed. That would be nice, yes?"
You suck in a sharp breath, "Yes sir."
"Хороший солдат." He purrs. He pulls out another collar from his pocket and you feel yourself chub up in your pants just at the sight of it. It's the chained pronged one he uses exclusively when he wants you to pleasure him, particularly because it leaves such pretty bruises along your skin when he tugs on the leash.
You eagerly tilt your head back to bare your throat, a shudder rushing down your spine as soon as you feel the cold metal against your skin. You stay perfectly still as he secures around your neck, the sharp pull of the leash making the prongs dig into your skin, prickles of pain making you even harder. "Go on," Makarov hums, spreading his legs wider so your attention falls to the hard bulge in his slacks, his belt undone but the rest left to you. "есть."
You don't think you could enjoy servicing him as much as you did if he didn't let you work for it, the reward made sweeter because you earned it. Truly, he's so good to you, you'd thank him profusely but he hasn't given you permission to speak freely. So you lean in, careful not to get blood on his pants as you take the metal zipper between your teeth and pull it down. You've done this enough not to have any problems undoing the button, your hands obediently planted on your thighs and your gaze firmly on him so you can see the pleased smirk that spreads across his features when you bite the band of his boxers and pull them down until his cock springs out, already hard.
A pleased sigh escapes him when your warm lips wrap around the head of his cock, the leash wrapped firmly around his hand and the slightest tug on it has pain prickling down your spine. "Моя гончая, don't waste my time." You can't help but whine lowly at the admonishment, quickly trying to make up to him by sucking on the tip and licking the slit in just the way he likes it.
His leg shifts, hard boot coming up to grind the sole against your clothed cock. "That's better." The praise makes you moan deep from your chest and try to take more of his cock into your mouth, your boxers wet and sticky against your own cock as you give an experimental hump of your hips against his boot. You scrape your teeth along the vein on the underside of his cock and it earns you a rough grind of his boot. His hand tangles in your bloodied hair and pulls you down until his cock bumps the back of your throat.
You nearly choke from the sudden pressure, trying to fight off the reflex to pull back and gag. "Look at me." His order rings clear in your head, your eyes meeting his as he grinds your nose into his pubic hair, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your lungs start to burn. You fight through it, the fluttering of your throat making him five a small, rough, moan and fuck — you're hard as a rock.
Just as you feel like you'll pass out on his cock he lets you off, yanking your head back. You're only given a few seconds to take a sharp breath of fresh air before he pushes your head back down. You're prepared this time, hollowing your cheeks and relaxing your throat, swallowing around his hard cock. The way you suck Makarov off is wet and sloppy, stealing ragged breaths when you can as you trace the veins of his cock with your tongue and gently nibble on the base when his cock's fully sheathed in your throat, knowing exactly how to please him. Your efforts are rewarded with the salty taste of precum on your tongue, hearing him occasionally mutter his praises in Russian, none of his words snagging on your mind like sharp orders so you let yourself drift in the pleasure of servicing him, subconsciously grinding your cock into his foot.
But you're not mentally gone enough not to notice the squeaking of chairs, your body tensing as you pull up enough so only his head remains in your mouth, your head turned just enough to throw a sharp glare at the other men in the room. Makarov having his guard down like this makes you tense, violence buzzing beneath your skin from the ingrained need to protect him.
"Hound." Makarov's growl is followed by another sharp tug of the leash, the dull ache of the metal prongs digging into your skin dissipating some of your aggression. "Did I tell you to stop?"
You shake your head as best you can, a pathetic whine escaping your chest from the way the pain makes your cock even harder. Satisfied, he eases the leash, letting you return to your work. His head lolls back, lazily looking at his men. He couldn't care less who sees you like this, but now he wants your full attention on him. "Leave." He gives the simple command.
You track the sound of shuffling feet as you take him fully into your mouth, making him hiss a curse under his breath. Nuzzling your nose into his curly pubic hair you breathe in his musk, his heel grinding firmly and consistently against your hard cock, pleasure pulsing through your veins with such intensity you're worried you'll cum without permission, low whines escaping your throat.
He pulls you off him suddenly, your lungs burning as you gasp for air. You expect him to paint your face with his cum, stake an obvious ownership over you. But he doesn't, pulling you by the leash and leaning down to mash your lips together, teeth biting down on your lip until it bleeds.
Makarov's kisses are rough and demanding, the sweet drug your body's been craving, teeth clicking together and tongues swirling in each other's mouths. The firm grind of his boot against your crotch makes you moan lowly, a sound he happily swallows down and nearly shoves his tongue down your throat. You part far too soon, your body craving much much more, but he doesn't let you stew in the disappointment of a short kiss — it's an owner's responsibility to spoil his pet — mumbling against your lips. "Prepare me."
A full shudder runs down your spine and you surge to follow his order. Makarov loves the determined look you get in your eye just as much as he loves the rough way you grip his hips and hike them up so you can pull his pants and boxers down his legs. Your bloodied fingers grip his hips and pull them down until his ass hangs off the edge of the couch, throwing his legs over your shoulders and he can feel the muscles deep in his back strain as you nearly bend him in half, his hard cock and hole bared for you.
It's a vulnerable position, trapped between your bulky frame and the couch he has no way to escape. And if anyone else were to attempt this he would feed every inch of their flesh to themselves. But Makarov relishes the knowledge that he's in control, a single word from him would make you stop regardless of how hard and wanting you were, your loyalty to him as real as the dead man's blood you dip your fingers in to lube them.
Your fingers circle his hole before you press the pad of your finger against it. Without the heat of battle the cold viscousness of the blood feels disgusting, making him shiver and his rim flutter against your digit. But the discomfort is easily forgotten when you apply pressure, the steady and persistent way you push your finger in forcing his muscles to yield. "Shit-" Makarov clenches his teeth; your fingers are so large just one feels like two of his own, the gnawing pain of your finger pushing deeper just amplifying the pleasure of being stretched open and your other hand loosely stroking his wet cock.
You don't go slower than you need to, perfectly trained to know how to move your fingers to keep him teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain, each shift and slow drag of your finger pulling deep grunt and soft breaths from between his clenched teeth. "Yes, there you go." His praise makes your heart melt and cock throb in your pants, the pull of the leash bringing your lips together in another harsh kiss. You swallow his moans greedily, pushing a second finger in and curling them in search of his prostate, your thumb incessantly rubbing the space between his balls and ass to trap the spongy flesh between your fingers.
He nearly chokes you with how hard he yanks on the leash, hips pushing back into your hand and walls clenching down on your fingers. The stinging ache of being stretched open mixes with the building pleasure, leaving his skin feeling like a live wire. His teeth dig into your lip until it bleeds again, heels digging into your back. He grinds his hips down on your fingers, muttering praises against your lips as you push a third finger in and force him to take it.
He can't wait any more, gripping your hair and roughly yanking your head back. "Fuck me already." He growls, licking the blood staining your cheek.
You scramble to do as you're told, continuing to stretch him open as you undo your belt and pants with one hand, your hard cock bobbing against your abdomen. Pulling your fingers out you scoop up more blood, the cold helping reign in your lust as you lube up.
Before you can do anything he reaches out to grip the base of your cock, his hold firm and just at the cusp of pain. "You'll be good, yes?" He growls against your lips. "Fuck me good and hard?" His hand moves, stroking you slowly, evenly coating the blood along your cock. "I don't need to show you how to use this thing again, do I?" There's a dangerous edge in his voice.
Fear shoots down your spine, mouth going dry. You'd been too eager for human touch when he first let you mount him, and when you came seconds after getting inside him he'd been less than pleased by your abilities. You couldn't feel your cock for a full week after he'd tied you down and used your cock until you couldn't cum, using a cock ring to keep you hard and using you until he was satisfied.
You quickly shake your head. "No sir," You choke out and bare your throat. "I can do it, I'll be good." You promise.
His hold loosens, tugging you by the hair so he can peck your lips, his tongue licking over the small wound he'd made. "Don't fail me now."
You steel yourself like you're going to war, pressing your cockhead to his hole. Your nails dig into his hip, your grip ironclad to keep him still as you pull him down more and simultaneously push in. There's a second of resistance before your head pops in, the pleasure of entering his velvet soft insides being met with sharp pain as his teeth chomp down on your shoulder through your shirt. It all mixes in your brain into pure bliss, your hips bucking up into him automatically until you're bottomed out. You hold him close to you and leisurely grind your hips, letting him get used to the mind numbing stretch.
Fuck— Makarov may see the appeal of brutes but impaled on your cock he feels like he's being split in two, lungs burning and he can almost swear your tip's poking his diaphragm. He chases the pain more than the pleasure, heels digging into your back to give him some leverage so he can push his hips into yours. "Yes," His head lolls back when you slowly withdraw, only to suddenly snap your hips and hilt yourself inside him again. "-fuck, yes!"
The blood keeps you from tearing him apart but there's too little of it to keep him from feeling the painful stretch, the slow movement of your hips making his thighs shake. "Harder," He demands, yanking on your leash and biting your shoulder again. "Make me feel it." His voice is rough with a demand, because men like him never beg.
"Yes sir," You manage, bracing your feet and setting a rough pace, rutting into him like an animal. He muffles his sounds into your shoulder as your cock saws into him, his walls fluttering and clenching around you so tightly it feels like he'll snap your cock off. You do your best to focus on him and his pleasure, but the tight heat of his hole is rapidly melting any control you have, your cock throbbing and leaking precum inside him.
"Sir, please-" You whine, your muscles tight and your balls feeling so full you feel like you'll burst, your voice full of need. "I'm so close."
“Not yet.” He growls, pushing his hips down to meet your thrusts, your hand stroking his cock. “Make me cum first.” He growls.
You hold back a pathetic whine and redouble your efforts, your rough thrusts bruising his ass as you fuck into him, aiming to nail his prostate every time you bottom out. He wails, whole body shaking, his cock throbbing in your hand and leaking a puddle of precum on his stomach.
Makarov cums without any warning, going rigid and biting your shoulder even harder as pearly cum shoots from his tip, his walls clamping down on your cock. "C- cum!" He snarls, voice muffled, and it's all you need. Bottoming out fully you moan as you shoot his insides full of your cum, rocking your hips and grinding your cock against his prostate to prolong both of our highs.
You hold him close as you come down to reality but the way his walls clench around your cock makes you feel like heaven. His hands grip your jaw, bringing you down into a disorganized sloppy kiss. He's boneless in your arms, his walls continuing to flutter around you. "That was good." He slurs, chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. "Good dog."
The tug of the leash is expected and Makarov kisses the corner of your lips, tongue swiping across your skin to lick up more of the blood staining your lips. "Clean me up." He orders, "Lick up your mess." He growls, and there's not a single part of you that would refuse him.
Tag list: @lieutnt, @pastelclovds @thee-great-enigma @vladimirking24
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frogchiro · 3 months
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Silver fox! Makarov lurking outside the farm for kitty! Reader and tries to mount her at any chance he gets after courting (leaving small dead animals, some pelts he ‘found’, pretty flowers, yummy berries, anything for her) her, although she thinks he was simply being nice until he tries to knot her whenever those brutish guard dogs aren’t in sight. :’)
He definitely thinks his knot will fit in her far more better compared to others.
He was feeling romantical😭
And Vladimir's trying so so hard, really! He brings you dead animals, pelts, blankets and pillows he 'found' on someone's laundry line, he even brings you pretty forest flowers because it makes his tail wag and his sharp teeth show in a delighted smirk when he sees the pretty kitty girl swooning and fawning over his gifts!
And when you're distracted by touching and feeling the soft pelts or fawning over the pretty flowers he's cosying up to you, rubbing up against you to try and mark you with his scent so those pesky brutes back at the farm know who exactly got you. He'd nudge his head against you and try to nip on your bare shoulders before moving to your back to lick affectionally at your scruff and down the lucious, soft fur on your back before he'll finally try to get all nice and close to your back to mount you but you're...still distracted?
Makarov would let out a annoyed chuff as he noticed you're still eating those sweet berries he brought you as you purr in delight that the large male fox brought you all those gifts!
But he wants to mate with you so badly :(( Vladimir thinks that he's a much better option than those nasty dogs who just shove their cocks and knots inside you without abandon, treat you so roughly like some bitch but you're much smaller than them! More delicate! You're soft all over, your full curves and hips just begging to be worshipped and Makarov is convinced that hes the one to provide for you <3 Not to mention that he'd be a far better mate because you'd never have to 'work' again, you just lay back in his luxurious den, laid out on soft blankets and pelts and let him provide for you and fill you up with his kits <33
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mockerycrow · 8 months
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Talk About Sensitivity In The COD Fandom **Important.**
THIS IS NOT A DEBATE POST. DO NOT BOTHER.
Hey, everyone. After the reveal of Makarov in the trailer (as well as general concern), I think a chat about sensitivity is important. Since the trailer’s release, I have seen a major increase in simping for Makarov posts as well as genuine romanticization of Russia and/or Russian Soldiers. First, I want to talk about the romanticization of Russia and/or Russian soldiers because it’s seriously getting out of hand. I need you guys to realize that Russia is an ultranationalist country and yes, maybe not everyone who lives there believes what their government does, but it’s important to know a big portion of their population does. I have seen multiple posts and edits of this man right here (pictures below).
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THIS GUY IS NOT SOMEONE YOU SHOULD LIKE, AND PEOPLE NEED TO UNDERSTAND THAT HE DOES NOT LIKE YOU. This is one of the most popular Russian Soldiers amongst the internet due to the way he wears a mask, gear, has an accent, and is buff. He makes videos teaching soldiers how to kill people—innocent people in Ukraine who are just trying to survive. I have seen people straight up ignore when someone tells them what this man has done, so let me put it this way—he does not like you. He wants you dead. He is racist, a homophobe, transphobe, antisemitic, etc. He absolutely hates The West, and he does not like you unless you are a cis, straight, white 100% Russian. Even if you’re a woman, he DOES NOT LIKE YOU. If you American, HE DOES NOT WANT YOU ALIVE.
[This part is not targeted; just a general statement.] Second; there is a serious problem with how you guys address Makarov as a character. There is absolutely no problem enjoying him as a villain because I do too, but you guys have to realize that Makarov is an ultranationalist—which is exactly what Russia is right now, an ultranationalist terrorist state. “But he’s fictional, it doesn’t matter! it’s not that deep!” It actually is that deep. I keep seeing content for Makarov and I can’t force anyone to stop making “fluffy fics”, but I need y’all to have some fucking decency towards victims and people affected by the war. I know people who are affected by the war who feel ill seeing posts painting Makarov in a good light. If you are going to write Makarov, do NOT romanticize him as a character—do NOT paint him a decent or good light, because you can’t. Write him like the bastard he is. And no, this isn’t a “let people write what they wanna write” situation. You can do that, but please be expected to be judged and blocked by me and many others. Makarov is quite literally the characterization of everything that is wrong with Russia, and what HAS been wrong with Russia. Makarov is not a bad boy, a rebel, etc, he’s a fucking terrorist. Please be for real. “But the military in general is bad, so why does it matter specifically around Makarov?” Please see above my previous reasons. Thanks.
The overall message of this point is to be fucking respectful. There are actual people dying and slaughtered for no reason other than ruined pride and a lot of Ukrainian folk seek comfort and distractions in the internet and their fandoms. This ruins it for them and quite frankly, sometimes how Makarov is being written? It’s completely insensitive. Anyway, below are a few links where you can directly support the efforts and the people of Ukraine. Peace and love, and please write with critical thinking.
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burstinn · 4 months
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You accidentally sit on their face, And they actually enjoy it
HEADCANONS
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Warnings and Notes:
All of these aren't serious hcs, I was high again and wanted to make this
I made this for funny
Slight nsfw
Gn reader, target audience is male
Haha face sitting
People mentioned:
Riptide (Tide), Soap, Gaz, Ghost, König, Makarov, Keegan, Horangi, Price, Krueger, Roach, Logan, Graves
You are tired, after agrueling training from a grouchy superior who had a bad day so he had to take it out on you and your comrades. You needed to sit down, badly. Your legs are about ready to give up.
Once you reach the common room, fucking finally. You pull out your phone to find something to watch, while you make your way to the sofa.
And you sit down, Before you felt something poking you, something.. Wrong. You immediately look down realizing you.. YOU SAY ON SOMEONE'S FACE
"OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY"
RIPTIDE
- He immediately sits up looking at you, well if his mask was off he would be confused at fuck
- "Sorry for huh??"
- Seems like you say on him while he slept
- "... ", "nothin"
- Weird, but okay.. He tells you go off while he layed back down to continue his eye rest
- Thank fucking god, Thank the holy stars he didn't catch you sittin on him
- BUT.. The holy stars didn't feel like saving you right now. Because apparently a rookie caught you accidentally sitting on Tide and told him after he woke up.. That fuckin snitch
- Now you have to face the embarrassment of Riptide confronting you about it the next day.
- Tide sounds upset as well while confronting you, how humiliating
- Well the thing that you don't know is. The thing is, he angry cause HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL TO ASS ON HIS FACE. HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL A PLUMP ASS SITTIN DOWN ON HIS FAAACE
- and by God would he find a way to let you sit on him.
SOAP
- Yknow.. You know how I write this man..
- He saw you walk in, distracted by your phone.. Obviously making your way to the couch while he sitting down.
- Then he got the bright idea.. To yknow.. Lay his head down to just... Idk stretch.. Totally
- He had the pleasure as well to watch your ass slowly sit down on his face, well for a few seconds anyway. Then you immediately get off his face. Sad life fr
- "huh? What's up why'd you get off?" "Your ass is nice to look at btw"
- " you saw me about to sit down on you and you didn't say anything?!"
- "A man gotta do to experience something new man.."
- You would hit him. But you would also get in trouble for that.
- he would joke the shit about it as well. He would tease the fuck outta you for the rest of the month for this.
- Bro won't even hide to shamefully ask you if you wanna sit on his face again ( in a joking way)
- (He's actually serious)
GAZ
- He was about to shut his eyes when he suddenly saw an outline of an ass about to sit on him.
- His eyes suddenly opened and he tried to get up but nah.. Too late bro you gotta feel the full plumpy moons first
- When you got up his eyes were wide and his face was red.
- "no.. It's okay.."
- he got off and left. Leaving you in your shame
- He had to leave to compose himself.. He found something new about himself and he isn't sure how to react
GHOST
- His eyes were closed.. Then he felled something soft on his face.
- Then a scream oh my god I'm sorry
- Oh.. Shit...
- He sits up, realizing you sat on his face.. He doesn't say anything.
- His face is fucking red under the mask. Your ass suddenly looked twice as big as before. Don't know how that works but go with it fr.
- He got hard, you noticed.
- "dude.. Sir..?.. Are you.."
- He just looks at you. He has that look in his eyes
- Cmon, yknow what you gotta do.. YOU KNOW
- SIT ON HIS FUCKING FACE RUAUAAAAGHHH
KÖNIG
- He wasn't expecting ass in his face, he thought he wouldn't enjoy something like face sitting but hey.. It's actually.. Nice?
- He doesn't say anything when you suddenly sit up embarrassingly trying too apologize
- He just nodded..
- He wanted you to sit on his face again so fucking badly..
- So badly he would lay down on literally anything sittable while you were in the room
- It was so fucking obvious it was almost funny
- You had to confront him about it. And he just.. Confessed, yeah, he wanted you to sit ok his face
- .... Cmon bro.. Be a man and sit on the guys face, Make his wish come trueeee
MAKAROV
- " sit back down"
- "excuse me? Sir.. No-"
- you better sit the fuck back down on his face
- He will literally pull a gun on you and force you to sit back down on his face
KEEGAN
- No fucking lie he literally took a fucking huge sniff
- You know because you fucking heard that comically loud sniff
- You had to cut your apology short to look at that dude in disbelief
- "Did you just fucking sniff my ass?!"
- Bro will literally look at you with a goofy ahh face and just look at you.. Not saying anything, not even a fuckin nod
- "you gonna sit back down on me or..?"
- He made you sit back down on his face
HORNAGI
-EHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHEHRHEHEHHhahahahahaahHAHAAH
- He will literally squeeze your ass, then pull your legs and make you sit back down on his face
- Don't even try to fight. His hands are fucking locked down on your thighs to keep you stuck on his face
- He made you sit down on his face for so long, you were literally concerned if he was breathing
- if you ask him if he's alive, he would just squeeze your leg to show you. Yeah, he's good
- if you look behind you, He's hard.
PRICE
- would smile and assure you it's okay.
- Pats your back, for more assurance. But he literally wants to Pat your ass
- Bro would imagine what it would be if you sat on his face
- Naked. Yes, if you sat on his face naked.
- If you did his beard would tickle you.. Which was what he wanted fr
KRUEGER
- He would say something like in a very angry and demanding tone
- "Why'd you get off?"
- "huh?"
- "Sit.Back.down"
- You did
ROACH
- Yo.. He feelin something he never felt before. Haha lie he just found a new kink he would actually enjoy
- He would literally follow you around and tug your shirt and point at your ass then his face
- If you would say no, He would leave and come back a few minutes later and do the same thing
- He would do it until you say yes..
- He's very happy. He's a very happy bug
LOGAN WALKER
- Would scream at you
- because you made him discover something about himself
- He's angry because of that
- He would force you to run 15 laps because of that.
- Then when you suddenly tired, sweating yo legs shaking from how tired you are
- He would silently and gently ask you ( he would toss you over his shoulder and walk you off to his room and make you sit on him)
- He won't explain why he did that. He just wanted to
GRAVES
- Would look at you like 🤨
- Then be like 😐😒😏
- stands up and slaps your ass
- and asks you to sit on his face
Everyone mentioned
- You will face fuck them
- Do not fight me on this, they will make you face fuck them
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 27 days
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Orange Peel Theory With Cod Characters
Would they peel an orange for you? (Scenario based on the test from TikTok)
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Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves, Vladimir Makarov.
This is probably one of the only times I'll be using the color orange, AHAHAHAHA. As you can tell I wouldn't be okay with the camp half-blood uniform as an Aphrodite kid. Writing this as I'm sick with a cold, my nanny since childhood peeled my oranges for me while telling me to finish all of it because it's vitamin C.
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Mansplaining this but the Orange Peel/Peeling Theory surrounding TikTok started with one girl talking about her experience with her ex peeling her oranges for her. It soon turned into a theory/test where people ask their partner to peel an orange for them, something as small and effortless as peeling an orange as that act of service represents their willingness to do things for their partner and if they refuse then that's seen as a red flag because it means that if they're unwilling to do that small thing for them then same case scenario for something big that requires a sacrifice.
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They peel it for you almost immediately, no words needed, just you staring at the orange. Grabbing it from the bowl of fruits and meticulously tearing the skin with their thumbs, being careful not to make much of a mess and to not bruise the orange.
It's not a secret that they like to do this, offering other little things like opening doors for you, peeling the skin of apples if you don't feel like eating it and slicing it up for you with a multipurpose camping knife, putting their hand on the edge of a nearby cornered things so it wouldn't be as painful if you hit your head picking something up.
Characters: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, König.
Would tease you once you ask them to peel it for you but will peel it. Would even hand feed it to you, you have to give them a kiss for every orange they separate. If you tell them you don't like the pith (the white stringy part) then they'd take it off for you.
They probably would ask you to peel some for them too some time around soon but you're more than happy to do it for them.
Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Nikolai Belinski.
You probably should've worded it better, you told them you felt like an orange.. "I feel like a tomato" is what you hear back. You laughed and clarified that you felt like eating the fruit.
"Oh.." they stopped to think if you had any oranges at home at the moment and they got up and peeled it for you, bringing a plate back of two peeled and pulled apart oranges with a glass of water for you.
Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
He'd throw the orange at your head, telling you to peel it yourself.
Characters: Philip Graves, Vladimir Makarov.
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee
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ma1dmer · 6 months
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Call of Duty - Vladimir Makarov NSFW
the first time I went on a date with a slavic man my mother turned to me and told me "I didn't immigrate, for you to be going out with Ivan from the village" anyways, here is ivan from the village
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): surprisingly he talks, he'll go on and on about the small things in his day to day, his shitty day, the things he's seen since he last saw you, his plans for the future ,especially if you speak his language, in the darkness of your room pressed against each other naked like that, he almost opens up to you
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): he loves legs, he is a man who can appreciate a good high heel to elongate them, loves fucking you in the tights and heels combo, very particular about them too, he sees you walking around in a skirt with a slit up the thigh and heels and he's pulling you to him, asking if this is his present
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): in the heat of the moment he's so into the idea of cumming on you, messing up that pretty face of yours or leaving his mark on you in a way, but the second that post nut clarity hits he is absolutely disgusted, quickly throws something for you to clean up with while wiping his hand
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): he is a bit of a masochist, its just one of those things he'll never admit and you better not bring them up at any point in any conversation, but it gets him so riled up when you have the balls to slap him back, he doesn't encourage your behavior outside of very specific moments in the bedroom though, it's rare for him to actually allow it, but you can immediately tell when he's in one of those moods, he'll be lost in the feeling of you wrapped around his cock and suddenly yank your hand to wrap around his throat and growl at you to go on
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): a man with a lot of experience, mostly anonymous hook ups here and there, so it's tough to get him to get used to an actual serious commited relationship, but it's nice, he won't complain with having someone to always warm his bed or wait for him to come back home
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): the basics, on your back holding your legs as he fucks you, he'll kiss your forehead or cheek growling filth against your sweaty skin, if you turn away from his kisses he forces you to look at him, gets very petty about that
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): serious and very very intense
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): all natural, not particularly hairy but he doesn't do anything to it, he always smells very very strongly of cologne as well
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): not exactly romantic, if you keep him content and his bed warm, he spoils you outside the bedroom, that's his way of showing he cares and his commitment to you, but he keeps his distance in general, he is a greedy greedy man, he wants your full attention but won't give you his unless he is forced to do so
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): before he thinks of jacking off he first texts you, if you don't answer his texts, he calls you, asks you if you are busy, not really caring for any answer other than "no, my love, what do you want?" ,he'll be stroking himself through his pants as he asks you to come over or tells you he's about to pop in for a bit, if you happen to be busy he'd rather take a shower and wait for when when he can next see you again
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): power dynamics, impact play, choking etc
L = Location (favorite places to do the do): he keeps his private business behind closed doors, can't stand the idea of other men ogling you
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): a short skirt, high heels, red lipstick, play a bit of dress up for him, he's a simple man who can still enjoy the simple pleasures of life
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): he does not share, he gets angry with you when another man looks at you, can't even comprehend the thought of bringing someone else in the bedroom, if you even suggest it, you are out, he's gone, and he's fucking every single woman within a 100 mile radius as revenge
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): loves receiving, he is not particularly gentle with it though, he likes things very specifically so he orders you around or straight up moves your head like his personal fleshlight, he also enjoys having a finger or two in him while you give him head, won't talk about it outside the bedroom, but always lifts his hips up or straight up moves your hand to his ass when he fucks your mouth to let you do your thing
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): rough and fast, he'll take his time to prepare you but once he's inside he's almost single mindedly chasing his own pleasure, you have to keep up with him and take matters into your own hand, enjoys the show greatly
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): not a big fan, if he is at work, he is at work, you don't intrude during that time and he hates nothing more than an impatient brat
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): not really, he likes things very particularly done, its difficult to convince him to do something new, he's not unmovable but if you insist too much he gets stubborn and will keep denying you
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): it really depends on the context, how long since he last saw you? how pent up is he? after a success or a failure? how generous is he feeling that night? is he spending the night or needs to fly out in a couple of hours? everything moves with his schedule
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): he's quite possessive and very self absorbed, he doesn't like the idea of you using them by yourself when he's gone, but can definitely be convinced with something he can control for you
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he is pretty straight forward, isn't so much a tease as he has a bit of a mean streak, he enjoys the little jump you make when you think he's gonna spank you ,but instead he just gently cups your ass or thighs, will smirk and ask you if you are scared of him or something, tells you to relax and stop being so tense, even though you have legit reasons to be worried
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): grunts and groans and a lot, a lot of dirty talk, especially if he sees it gets a rise out of you, you'd expect him to be quieter but no not really, he makes these deep guttural grunts as he fucks you and curses up a storm, especially in russian
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): he is a pussy slapper, he eats it with precision and great enjoyment, but he's so mean about it, will coo at you in russian when you flinch at his touch
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): average length but very thick with a slightly thinner crown, very hard to adjust to
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): very average, it's common to send you off with a wave of his hand if he is busy, but when the need arises in him he does expect you to drop everything for him
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): this man is a little spoon, he will never admit it or ask, but every night he turns his back to you and expects you to hug him at some point
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deunmiu-dessie · 22 days
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warnings ⸻ dub-con
makarov's!daughter who finds her wrists bound behind her back, kneeling on the cold, rough concrete, the skin bruised and raw. makarov's!daughter who leans against the aluminum walls, eyes attempting to adjust to the darkness of her surroundings. makarov's!daughter who jolts when the doors are thrown open, overhead lights flooding the room and burning her eyes. makarov's!daughter who comes face to face with a skull mask when her eyes flutter open, lashes wet with tears. makarov's!daughter whose lips pucker when the man crouches to her height and grabs her cheeks roughly. makarov's!daughter whose eyebrows knit together, spitting on him as best as she can. "иди в жопу." ( go fuck yourself ) makarov's!daughter who swallows thickly when his gravelly, mocking voice responds. "there r'other ways t'get you ta speak, принцесса." ( princess )
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"--mmph!"
your gag reflex surfaces as his girthy, pierced cock bullies its way down your throat, his gloved hands gripping your hair roughly. your face is a mess of spit and cum, lips wrapped loosely around the thickness of the masked man. his eyes are a murky blue, upper lids hooded to watch his cock disappear between your lips and then further. the fight you once had is no more and you willingly swallow his length, tongue laving at his tip when he pulls away.
you're drooling, spluttering, and whining in a panic when he reaches into his back pocket to pull out your phone to record you, the bright flash of the back camera hurting your eyes. "i think y'r little girl is enjoying my cock t'much, don't you? makarov?"
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ - 𝒸𝓁𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓂𝑒!
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diejager · 1 month
Note
it's always girl dad König or girl dad Simon but girl dad Makarov whose little princess gets away with everything
Cw: mention of assassination, protective behaviour, father!Makarov, tell me if I missed any. nnote: every dialogue in italic is spoken in Russian.
“- could provide you with-” 
“Papa, ” you poked your head through his office room’s door after giving it three light knocks.
You knew your dad was in his office, a worker of the house had told you where he was after you asked her, the old lady’s face wrinkling up with her gentle, saying that she saw a Bolivian man escorted to his office, but didn’t know if he left or not. Wanting to try your luck, you crossed the mansion to get to his office, built on the left side of the house, while your bedrooms and study rooms were on the other end of the mansion. He liked to separate his work life and his life with you, for better protection and keep your from knowing the dangers of life —or so he says. 
A man sat across him, the bald head of the Bolivian man Old Baba mentioned, wearing a suit sewed in fine looking silk, of rich and luxury that even your father never wore around so carelessly. It would catch people’s attention, right or wrong, he didn’t need any of that, he would rather wear the same black and white attire, clean and normal enough to be unnoticeable by the mass. The dichotomy between the fat man and your father was laughable, a scene you’d only see in your comedy novels or a movie. Your abrupt entrance had cut the man’s proposition in half, turning both their attention towards the door where you blinked owlishly, partly in guilt for barging into his meeting and in shock at the bald man’s heavy perspiration. 
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were still talking,” you bowed your head, ready to excuse yourself for barging in, “I’ll come back later, papa.”
“It’s fine,” Makarov waved his hand, nodding his head to let you know he wasn’t mad, your father would never be mad at you, you listened so well and never fought him on anything. You were a gem in his eyes, something precious and untouchable to all but him, “I’ll have someone call you when I’m done.”
When you closed the door, Makarov’s attention turned back to his potential - well, past potential - ally, his eyes darkening after he caught the man whispering something horrid about your interruption. His business was yours as much as it was his, you might’ve been kept in the dark at most time, but you knew enough to know he was a dangerous man. He kept you sheltered, but not naive.
And after half-heartedly listening to what the man had to provide, Makarov dismissed him, giving him a cold apology about those needs being fulfilled by a prior contractor, someone who already provided him with the material he proposed. He didn’t need a rich pig that stupidly flaunted is money, it would attract to many eyes and he didn’t need that if he wanted to reach his goal and build a better world for you. 
He flicked his wrist, opening his phone and mindlessly dialling a number, pressing the screen to his ear as he watched the man amble down the stairs, struggling to make his way to the car he had a chauffeur waiting for him. The person on the other side picked his call within seconds, a cool and monotone voice ready to receive his order from Makarov, the unbothered tone at his fury, a personal and petty thing that clawed at his mind. 
“Make it known that I will have no one disrespect my daughter.”
“Yes, sir.”
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami
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blingblong55 · 6 months
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Contact -Vladmir Makarov NSFW
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A/N: I still want to fuck the old makarov
Based on a request:
Makarov fucking us into submission😩 2, 15 with him, gen neutral or Fem reader ____ F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, power!play, marking, dom!Makarov, sub!reader, oral!sex ____
A/N:...so war criminals...am I right...
"On your back, pretty girl," his voice almost a whisper. Makarov smiles upon seeing his pretty lady listen to his instructions. Your face already a mess, his cum all over your face, reddened face from when he slapped you and his hickeys all over your neck and chest. His head now in between your pretty thighs. You adore it when he takes control of you, how he throws you around in bed, slaps you around when you don't listen, because, 'good girls always listen,' he reminds you. He looks up, tongue already teasing your clit. A grin on him as he watches you try and suppress the moans. "Oh, you like that?" A smile on him and then he slaps your thigh, tongue still teasing your more than sensitive clit, your hips buck but he pushes them down.
"That's it, pretty girl, just like that, let it happen," his thick Russian accent making this even more desirable. Your hands on his hair as you feel his tongue and nose on your pussy. His erected dick leaking pre-cum for the second time this evening. His fingers curling inside of your cunt. Tip so swollen one more of your sweet moans will send him over the edge and he will release all over the bedsheets instead of your pussy. "So...fucking...good," he praises the one part he loves to kiss more. Your free hand playing your nipples, your back arches, eyes fluttering. "Vlad...fuck..i.." you stutter, the pleasure and orgasm building up in your core.
"I know you can take it, so fucking take it," he slaps your ass one more time. You mewl at this. "I don't...think I can," you let out a whiny moan. His tongue flickering on your clit, lips kissing and sucking at the sensitive tissue, it was more than a messy kiss to your pretty pussy, it was a wet and teased kiss. The taste of you, like heaven couldn't be anymore closer to you. He kisses your inner thigh, knowing he was close to cumming. He kisses and licks, before you know it, he begins to bite that area, it was pleasure and pain in one movement.
"Come for me, R/N, do it," he growls, needing to make you come before he even dares to fuck that tight cunt of yours. You grip on his hair and the sheets, back arches, moans so unholy it makes the devil grin. He chuckles when he drowns in your juices. "My...oh my pretty girl," he licks your cunt again. Taste of paradise on his tongue again. You and him, a delicious mess, two sworn enemies, one bed and tangled between the sheets.
Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @sharkssharkssharkssharks @ravenisdead @ohworm-writes @kit-kats06 @thefragmented
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saturncodedstarlette · 8 months
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Y/N : If I betray you, I betray myself. ..
Y/N : If I betray Price, I betray my country.
Y/N : My country is very dear to me——
Makarov : Dearer than I?
Y/N : No… no. Not dearer than you.
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ghxst3m8 · 7 months
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Dangerously yours
Makarov: look Y/N... a shooting star! Did you wish?
Y/N: Oh…I didn’t have time...
Makarov: So there is something you wish for?
Y/N: Yes...
Makarov: What did you wish for?
Y/N: I was wishing... we were two other people... two people who do not need say goodbye...
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thegnomelord · 2 months
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Once, you were part of a taskforce with John Price as your captain. Once, you were his right hand, the one who looked up to him and stuck by him through hell or high water. But a botched mission landed you in Makarov's 'care'. You tried to hold out for Price, you waited, and waited, and waited. But help did not come, your loyalty repaid with betrayal.
Now you're Makarov's dog. You bark when he tells you, you shoot when he orders, and you bite out the throat of whoever he wants. And he's there to wipe the crimson off your cheeks and lick the blood staining your teeth, rewarding your loyalty with his attention and sweet pleasure. Once his touch would have made disgust curl under your skin, but now your body craves it like a drug. You are his after all, his good dog.
His Hound.
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Chapter 1: Good Dog
Playlist if anyone wants it lol
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frogchiro · 3 months
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Hello! I really love your writing and I had an idea from your last post with both guard dog Ghost and Soap.
I imagine after they chase off both Graves and Makarov they comfort and make sure kitty reader is alright. Taking her back to where they were sleeping so they can cuddle up with her and hold her close, making sure she doesn't wander off and get into another chase with mean Graves and Makarov. Keeping her squeezed between both Ghost and Soap.
(I've never done this before so I don't know if I did this right but I hope your having a good day/night <3)
Oh yeah they *make sure* their Kitty stays put and doesn't go anywhere anytime soon♡
They herd her back up to the hayloft where their nest is and first things first they need to lick and clean you bc you stink of a coyote and fox! Unacceptable! They managed to rub on you and scent you which only makes Johnny and Simon growl, they hate foreign scents on you, they barely tolerate John's and some feral hybrids?? Big no no
They lick and scent all over you; your face, neck, collarbone down to your breasts where Johnny sneaks a little suckle or two to your nipple which makes you mewl before moving down to your belly and finally to your most precious place where Simon, the dominant male, decides they need to conduct a pussy inspection to make sure those two didn't defile or breed you with their nasty cocks :((
You can yowl and squirm all you want but the two dogs hold you tight in their clutches, poking and prodding at your poor, swollen and wet pussy. While Makarov and Philip didn't have enough time to actually stuff you, they still managed to get a little hump in, Philip gwtting there first and getting you all nice on all fours as he tried to slip his cock in but was interrupted by Vladimir which resulted in their fight :((
Johnny and Si are simultaneously happy and angry; while you didn't get bred that fucking coyote still managed to almost slip his dick in and knot you and they just cannot risk that! So for the rest of the night and many next ones you slept soundly squished between the big, bulky bodies of your two mates and if you were ever lazily napping in the sun during the day, they hope you didn't hear them chasing and snarling at the two pesky feral hybrids who tried to sneak in once again♡
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miss-dollette · 5 months
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Pedo problem in the COD fandom - Mini Rant.
TW: Opinion. Pedophilia mentioned. Cursing. Offensive. 18+.
Entering my Wendy Williams Era and saying what I want because I want to. I already know everyone is gonna jump me (again), but do you think I care? I say my truth and say what everyone thinking.
Hey, I have a question... what's up with people making COD characters borderline pedophiles??
I mean, 18 years old is legal, but let's be honest, any man in his 30s and older who would date an 18 year old is... you know - someone who would go younger if it was legal. (Anyone who argues with this fact, you're either underage or sus af).
I feel so icky when I scroll in a tag and see all these FF's titled "Ghost x innocent!Reader," or "older!BF Price x Younger!GF Reader," or "Step-dad!König x stepdaughter!reader." Like r u fr?
The fact that there is so many of them is disturbing.
Look, I'm no prude. I like kinky sex and all that freaky stuff, and I don't mind age gap relationships, but the way you guys write makes it clear that you like the aspect of the taboo-ness of "that" type of relationship, if you could even call it that.
I get so disgusted by the way you freaks write my favorite characters. How dare you make Simon (a beautiful, loving man) or Price (who, let's be honest, never touch an 18 year old) into some gross pervert.
Don't get me wrong, I like perverts, but not creep perverts.
Pedophilia or hints of it will never be tolerated. And should never.
Also, most of this fandom is made up of bad smut and even worse dialogue in smut. Seriously, I cringe. What the hell.
We need more 30+ year olds in this fandom writing because I can't take the unrealistic, bad fanfiction running around.
And of I hear "doe eyes" one more time, I sweat to God, Bitch...
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