#Soap really didn't mean it like that...at least not at first
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Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]
Chapter 5: The Cabin: Day 1 (pt.2)
Summary: Soap being gone for so long has you extremely worried. When he finally shows, you have an exchange of words, and Soap learns that you are human after all.
Word Count: 4,000
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, angst, slight panic attack, Soap is still mean?, suggestive language, partial nudity 
A/N: I’m ahead in writing by two characters, but expect weekly updates! Let me know how you’re liking it so far! Also comment some possible scenes you might want to see, sometimes I include them! Enjoy ~
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Bitter Allies • Part 5
The cabin, which had no electricity, was dark now. The sun was setting over the lake, which was beautiful, but you didn't have it in you to enjoy it right now. All you could was pace in the kitchen, the only light and source of heat coming from the embers in the wood stove from when you made food.
Soap was gone. He'd been gone all day. You didn't know what time it was when he left, but the sun had been high in the sky and now it was setting. Your mine was racing.
What if he had gotten hurt and couldn't get back? What if a bear or something killed him? Were there even bears where you are? What if-
There was a groaning sound as the cabin door opened. You gazed snapped over to the door right as Soap was walking through it. He looked tired, but that was to be expected. You don't know where he went or what he did, but you know he hasn't eaten. Unless he ate some berries or something during his time in the woods, but you doubted it.
A mix of emotions hit you as you look at him. Anger at him for being gone for so long, relief that he was back, and conflicted feelings when you feel your eye start to burn with tears. Truth was, you did care about Soap to some extent, and him not coming back after an hour or two scared the hell out of you.
Despite your current state, and after everything that happened this morning, you wanted to keep your voice calm when speaking to him. You didn't want to yell, start another fight, or add more stress. However, the moment you open your mouth, anger burns in your chest like lit gasoline. Knowing you'll combust if you try to speak, you pause, hoping he'll speak first, and stay in your spot in the middle of the kitchen.
Soap's eyes were down as he walks in, not even acknowledging you. His lips were tightly pursed shut, and his body language was tense. He doesn't even spare you a single glance as he makes his way to the where you'd carefully placed all your food rations.
Taking a deep breath, you try to swallow the anger and address him.
"Where have you been?" Your voice shook the slightest bit, but you managed to keep it fairly steady.
Soap doesn't respond. You hear a faint annoyed sigh from him, but that's it. Your anger is boiling over at this point. You tried to ask nice, tried to be calm, but he was going to give you the silent treatment? Act like nothing had happened and like he hadn't made you worried sick for at least the last four hours?
"Soap, where the hell have you been?!" You were shouting now, and your raised voice finally makes Soap's gaze shift over to you. He looks you over a bit before rolling his eyes, returning to flipping through MREs packets to find a meal he wants.
"Don't fucking ignore me, Soap! You can't just leave and be gone for hours like that!"
"Fuck off, States." He grumbles, continuing his search for food. You stare at his back for a long moment, a bit taken back by his response. He really thought it was fine to go out into the woods for hours? To just leave you alone in the middle of the woods wondering if he was ok? Could he really not see how much distress he'd caused you by being gone? Or did he just not care?
You'd been worried about him.
Your chest tightens a bit, hands clenching into fists at your sides. You hated Soap with every fiber of your being, yet you worried when he was gone. You hated that you felt this way about him. You hated that he made you feel this way and now he was acting like it wasn't a big deal.
"Fuck off, States..."
"Don't tell me to fuck off! What gives you the right to leave like that? I didn't know if you were coming back or not." He just keeps ignoring you, his shoulders tense, and you snap. "John! Fucking turn around and answer me!"
That finally gets his attention. He looks back at you, jaw clenched tightly. "What have I told you about calling me that!?" He shouts at you, but you ignore him.
"Can you just listen to me!? I was worried about you, you stupid fucking idiot!" You shout at him, feeling your breath hitch a bit as a sob boils in your throat. You couldn't stop it. Tears started to run down your cheeks. You tried to brush them away, but they just kept coming.
"I sat here for hours! I didn't know where you were. I went outside, and I looked, and looked for you, and I couldn't find you. I thought you got hurt, or-or killed, or a bear got you, or you-you got lost. I didn't know if you were coming back, and I was scared that you weren't going to, and I didn't know what to do!"
You're sobbing by the end of your outburst, giving up on wiping tears away or keeping the sobs down. The stress of the day had gotten to you, and Soap leaving had been the final thing to make you break down. Now you just stood in front of this man that you hated, feeling scared that he'd died while he was gone, and sobbing uncontrollably into your hands.
Soap stood there frozen as he watches you. He'd never seen you cry before. No matter how bad the fights got, you never cried. Or at least not in front of him. He didn't really know what to do, but you were really upset. You're starting to hyperventilate, and he had to admit, he was getting a little worried.
"States, just calm down, lass." He says in the most gentle voice he's ever used when talking to you. "Stop crying, you're fucking up your breathing." His voice is still gentle, and there's a tinge of worry behind his words as he stays frozen in place.
You try to stop, you really do, cause crying in front of Soap isn't something you like doing, but you can't stop. Now that the wall has been busted down, the water wasn't going to stop until the pressure had been released.
Soap finally moves when you can't seem to stop and turns to one of the shelves behind him to grab a cantina. He unscrews the top and takes your hands, wrapping them around the bottle and then brings it up to your lips. "Here, lass, drink some water. Take some deep breaths for me too, aye?" His hand pressed into your upper back, just steadily remaining there for support.
You do as he says, trying to take a few small sips and wiping at your eyes again. It helps a little, enough to settle you down a bit. You meet Soap's eyes, still sniffling and hiccuping softly. He still had his hand on your back, but he removes it to take the cantina back when you're done.
"I was worried about you..." You repeat, this time in more of a whisper as he puts the bottle back on the shelf.
Soap sighs softly and looks away, down towards the floor. You start to sniffle again, which makes him look at you once more. "Hey now, don't start that again."
"I'm not trying to. I can't help it. I was scared." You defend yourself, breath stuttering slightly.
"Look States, I... I'm sorry. Ok? I didn't mean to make you worry."
You're shocked. Absolutely in pure shock that this man is apologizing to you. He's never apologized to you for anything, and the thing is, he looks genuinely sorry. You stare at him for a long moment, making him uncomfortable.
"Don't look at me like that." He shifts nervously in place, a frown on his features.
You shake your head a bit, snapping yourself out of your state of shock. "Sorry, I've just never... I-I'm glad you're back." You rub your arm nervously. "Please don't.. please don't ever do something like that again."
"I won't." He says simply. "Stop all your crying now, aye? Go wash your face."
Normally you would have snapped at him for telling you what to do, but he's still talking to you softly. Like he's telling you to do something to make you feel better, not just to belittle you. So you nod and make to grab the flashlight to walk out to the pond. Before you get to the door though, he's calling out to you.
"Aye, States. Are you hungry? I'm going to make some food. You want some?"
You look back to him, surprised that he offered. You'd eaten a few hours ago, but you hardly had anything all day. Plus all that worrying you'd done had worked up quite an appetite. "Yeah... That'd be nice." You agree, getting a nod from him as he turns back to picking something from the cabinet.
"Alright. Go wash up. I'll get started." He says, his back to you now. You hesitate a moment more before stepping outside into the cool air.
It's quiet outside, aside from some frogs and an owl. The fresh air feels nice and helps to settle any remaining stress you had. You hear Soap inside, putting more wood onto the fire to get the oven going. It didn't seem real what just happened. You weren't quite sure what to make of any of it.
Sighing softly, trying to push everything that happened today behind you for now, you click on the flashlight and head towards the water. The sun has gone down and the moon is casting a soft light on the water's surface. Once you reach the edge, you scoop some water into your hands and splash it over your face, letting the icy water soothe your puffy cheeks. It feels nice despite the bite it has from the cold. It's just what you need.
Realizing you don't have a towel or anything to dry your face with, you end up just gently patting your face dry with your shirt. You'd be changing for bed soon anyway. You were regretting, however, packing your shorts and an oversized teeshirt to wear as pajamas. They weren't going to be very warm, and despite what you hoped was a new development in your relationship with Soap, you still were not fond of him seeing you in something like that.
The thought of your pajamas made you remember your lack of a bedroll. Maybe you should apologize to Soap for getting so upset with him earlier. It was technically your responsibility to keep track of it, and you doubted Soap would purposely do something like that to you. He was mean, but you didn't think he was that mean. Plus he had just apologized to you. Maybe you should return the favor. Extend the olive branch.
That was going to be hard though...
You sigh softly and get up, heading back into the cabin. Soap managed to get the fire going and now had a pot of what looked to be beans on the stovetop. He'd also laid out two pieces of bread on your plates. You stayed by the door, trying to warm your hands a bit as you watched him stir the pot. After a few seconds, he breaks the silence.
"Feeling better?" He asks, eyes focused on the food he was preparing.
"Yeah." You answer, yelling at yourself to just get the apology out. It was stuck though. Apologizes weren't really your strong suit. Plus making them to someone you had a bad rivalry with made it all that much harder. Instead, you find yourself clearing your throat and changing the topic.
"Uh... So I was thinking maybe we should make a few rules. For both of us to follow." You watch him for his reaction, not sure what you were going to get.
Soap surprisingly nods. "Sure. What were you thinking?" He asks, still not looking at you.
"Well... Maybe rule one should be that we can't go off into the woods alone for more than an hour? Just for safety." You start, which is met with silence. "If we need to go somewhere to cool down, maybe we go to the lake. Or somewhere else close by. I just don't want to have to go looking for you if I need you."
"Sure." Soap finally answers. "I can do that. Anything else?"
You think for a moment, not fully prepared to come up with all the rules by yourself at that very second. "Maybe just small things. Like we can alternate who cooks every night. Let me know before you go bathe. Don't leave dirty clothes or food lying around. Stuff like that." You shrug, watching as steam begins to rise off the pot of beans.
Soap stops stirring them and bangs the spoon on the side of the pan a few times. "That sounds reasonable." He agrees, surprising you by how accepting of this he was. "Come get what you want. I'll eat the rest." He tells you, standing out of the way so you can scoop the beans onto your plate.
You pick up your plate that he'd laid out for you and get your spoon, looking at him before looking down at the beans in the pot. You must have hesitated too long because he's rolling his eyes at you a moment later.
"Come on, I didn't poison them or anything." He grumbles, bits of the old Soap coming back.
"Well, I wasn't thinking that until you said something." You attempt to joke, though you aren't sure if Soap thought it was funny or not. He let out a huff, which might have been a laugh, but you're not sure.
"Just get your beans. I'm starving." He mumbles.
"Yes, sir." You say, getting reminded that he hadn't eaten all day. You didn't want a hangry Soap on your hands.
As you scoop up what you wanted, a very small portion so that he can have more, you hear him actually laugh. It's not a full belly laugh, but he does let out a small, single, chuckle.
"Now that's something I could get used to you saying." He mutters, making you roll your eyes this time. Though for once you aren't really annoyed.
"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." You tell him, setting your plate on the small table in the kitchen and sitting down.
You wait as he dumps the rest out onto his plate. You fully plan on sitting and eating with him. Sure, it still felt like you were walking on eggshells a bit around him, but this was by far the most civil you'd ever been with him. Once he's done scooping everything out onto his plate though, he's heading towards the bedroom without another word.
"Where are you eating?" You ask him when he walks past the available chair.
"On my cot." He answers, pushing the door open and shutting it behind him without another word.
You feel stupid now thinking that Soap was going to sit and eat with you. You don't know why you'd been expecting him to, but, now that he wasn't, it hurt a little bit...
Things probably hadn't actually changed. He was just being a littler nicer because he saw you cry. You stare down at your food, feeling a lot less hungry now, but you eat anyway. No point in wasting it.
Once your plate had been cleaned off the best you could, you set it on one of the shelves, planning on cleaning it tomorrow morning. You then make your way to the bedroom door and knock softly. You don't get a response, and if you listen really closely, you can hear gentle snores.
Opening the door carefully, you see that Soap had fallen asleep. His plate was on the floor next to his cot, scrapped clean. So much for your rule of keeping a tidy space. But you'd let it pass this time since it had been a long day.
Running a hand over your face, you step inside and pick his plate up, carrying it out to the kitchen. You set it alongside yours on the shelf and then you go back to the bedroom to grab your pajamas. You opted to change in the kitchen, just in case Soap woke up, and did so in record time. He was still asleep though when you came back in. However, the second you sat on your cot, making it squeak loudly, he woke up.
"Ah, that damned bed of yours." He grumbles, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"You were the one who stuck me with this bed." You remind him, making him grumble as he sat up. He places his feet on the floor, looking to the ground.
"Where's my-" he starts, but you already know what he's going to ask about.
"I already put it on the shelf for tomorrow." You tell him.
"Oh. Alright then." He mutters, standing up. He starts to take his shirt off, which had you blushing and raising your brows at him. Then he's taking his pants off, which instantly makes you cover your eyes.
"Oh my God! Don't change in here! I don't want to see you naked!" You yell at him, which has him rolling his eyes at you.
"Oh haud yer wheesht! I'm not getting naked! I sleep in my underwear."
You can hear the sound of his pants being pulled down, and you press your hands more firmly against your eyes. "I don't want to see you in your underwear either!"
"Well I didn't think we'd be sharing a room! I didn't pack pajamas!" He exclaims. "Besides, you're not even wearing pants!"
That made you uncover your eyes, your cheeks burning. "I'm wearing shorts!" You pull your shirt up enough for him to see the shorts you had underneath, and also get an eyeful of Soap in nothing but his underwear. He's in army green boxer briefs, which made his ass and what he was packing in the front look... Not too bad.
"That's practically underwear you're wearing." He claims. "Just think of these as shorts!" He balls his clothes up and tosses them into the suitcase with his clean and still unpacked clothes.
"Those are not shorts! I can see every..."
You trail off, not really wanting to admit that you can see the outline of his dick. You don’t want him to know that you looked. In your defense, it was pretty prominent and obvious feature. You know he isn't even... worked up... yet you can still clearly see it. You didn’t have to stare directly at it to see it.
"Just fucking get into your bed." You say instead, but by the look on Soap's face, he knew exactly what you were going to say.
"No, no, go on. Out with it." He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at you expectantly.
"Soap, I swear!" You're looking straight ahead, holding up your hand to shield your peripheral vision from him.
"If you like something you see, you can just tell me." He continues to egg you on, making you all the more frustrated with him.
"I'm gonna punch you in the thing I see if you don't get it over to your cot!" You threaten, making him finally leave you alone. He holds his hands up in mock surrender as he goes to his cot.
"Alright fine. Just do me a favor and don't squeak that damn cot of yours all night." He grumbles, getting onto his cot and into his sleeping roll. He rolls onto his side, back facing you.
You finally look over at him once he's laying down and then settle onto your own cot. You lay down on your back, staring up the ceiling and feeling thankful for the chilly air as it cools down your reddened cheeks.
Very quickly though, despite the wood furnace next to you, your arms and legs start to get cold. You tuck up into a ball, cot squeaking while you move, but it's not a position you were going to be able to maintain all night. After only five minutes your legs were cramping up, and you wanted to stretch out again, which caused more obnoxious squeaking.
You keep shifting like this, trying to find the best position to keep yourself warm. It doesn't take long for Soap to let out an annoyed groan.
"States, I swear." He grumbles.
"Sorry, I'm cold." You grumble right back, tucking your legs back up again.
It's silent for a little bit as you try to keep from moving around. You're shivering just slightly, but it wasn't a violent shiver by any means. Sleep was going to be difficult though. You sigh softly, your exhale a little shaky.
"Fucking hell." You hear Soap curse, followed by the sounds of him rustling around.
You'd been lying with your back to him, so you look over your shoulder as he gets up. It was hard to see exactly what he was doing. Despite his bed only being a few feet away from yours, it was dark over in his little corner, and his back was to you. The distinct sound of him unzipping his sleeping roll can be heard though.
"Here." He says after a moment and throws something over at you.
You jump slightly, sitting up to grab at whatever he's just thrown. Feeling it over, you quickly realized it was the thermal liner of his sleeping roll. It wasn't as comfortable as a blanket would be, but it was meant to hold in heat. It would keep you warm.
You look over to Soap, watching him flop back down onto his cot, his back to you once more. You're too stunned to move at first. You never expected Soap to do something so... nice. Especially for you.
"Thanks.." You mutter, getting up slowly to better lay out the lining on your bed.
"If it makes you stop squeaking that damn bed." He grumbles back.
You weren't going to argue with him. Whether he was only giving it to you to keep you from moving around or if he really felt bad you were cold, you didn't care. You were just happy to have some warmth.
The inside of the liner is warm already due to Soap having used it right before. It even sort of smells like him a little bit but, surprisingly, not in a bad way. It smells faintly like cologne, but you can't pick out the specific fragrances.
You lay on your side, facing him this time. The apology you wanted to give him earlier is on the tip of your tongue. It was the least you could do since he'd give you the warmest part of his sleeping roll.
"Hey, Soap?" You call out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as you wait for a confirmation he was listening. He grunts a bit. "I... I'm sorry for what happened earlier." Soap doesn't say anything, and you're not sure what he's thinking. It begins to feel awkward after a moment, so you continue, feeling the need to fill the silence. "...I shouldn't have yelled at you like I did."
"It's fine, States. Just go to bed." He mumbles, making you bite the inside of your cheek again.
"Ok." You mumble back. "Goodnight."
"Night, States."
Silence falls over the room then, and you close your eyes. Soap's liner, while not the most comfortable thing, keeps you warm. The day had been long and stressful, and you weren't sure how things would be tomorrow. You just hoped the days would go by quick.
One day down... six to go...
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Wrong bag, bro
Music blared from my headphones while I was running on the treadmill when I first saw the guy. It was obviously his first time in the gym, and after having gotten a short introduction, he looked around uncomfortably before approaching the weights. I sighed and stopped the treadmill. It was a good gym, at least judging from the equipment and the cost. The staff, however, was... improvable. It was clear that the new guy had no idea how to start and he would probably hurt himself like that.
"Sup? You're new here?" I said as I approached. He almost jumped when he heard my voice. I took a good look at him when he turned around. He wasn't very fit, at least compared to me. I mean, I'm no bodybuilder, too, but I do go to the gym a few times a week and try to stay in shape. The other guy was visibly unfit, with a small belly and no definition at all, but hey, we all have to start somewhere.
"Uhm. Yes. Actually, I wanted to lose a bit of weight. I'm Jonas. Do you work here?"
I chuckled. "Na, man. I'm Travis, and I just work *out* here. Why are you trying to get fit?"
Jonas seemed to be a bit embarrassed when he answered. "I... hope that will make dating easier. It's hard to find a boyfriend like... this."
He gestured down his body.
"Hey, you should do this for yourself, not for someone else. But yeah, I get what you mean. Chicks dig muscles, too."
The last part was probably unnecessary and somewhat spoiling the message, but I couldn't help it. It was a reflex to make clear I was straight. Really stupid, I know, but hey, that's just the straight genes talking.
Thankfully, Jonas took the hint and didn't hit on me as I showed him the ropes. He was mightily insecure, but a nice dude. After a while, he called it a day and we went to the locker room together. Having started early, I felt it was time to head home, too.
I took out my gym bag from my locker, as did Jonas, and got my soap out.
"Are you not going to shower?" I asked as Jonas just changed to his street shoes.
"Oh, eh, no, I'll shower at home." he said, and I understood. That guy was so self-conscious it would probably be hell for him to shower in a communal shower, so I just shrugged and said:
"Alright. See you around."
After the shower, I went to my gym bag to change into my street clothes but when I opened it, the contents seemed unfamiliar. Of course. Jonas had the same black gym bag as I did and must have grabbed the wrong one. That could happen. I just hoped I'd meet him again so we could swap back the bags. For now, it wasn't that much of a problem. I didn't have any valuables in there, and it seemed that Jonas had brought a towel as well, so I could just use his to dry myself.
What had been in there, however, were my street clothes. I mean, it wasn't a big deal, I could just wear my gym clothes until I got home, but somehow, I got curious and rummaged through the contents of the bag. There was something that immediately jumped into view and that was...
A pair of pink boxer briefs.
I mean seriously? How much gayer could it get?
I was just about to stuff it back into the back, when I hesitated. My gym compression shorts were soaked with sweat, and apparently, the boxer briefs seemed to be clean, I rationalized, but somehow, I *wanted* to put them on, for some weird reason. Well. I shrugged and just acted on the impulse, I mean, it was just a pair of underwear, right?
As it turned out, poor Jonas must have been not that well-endowed. The pair of boxer briefs was awfully tight and hugged my ass and my junk so firmly it was almost a second skin. I looked in the mirror and was a little surprised. My cock wasn't exactly small, but the underwear still didn't leave much to imagination either. But they were clean, and the fabric was quite pleasant to the touch, so I decided I would wear them until I got home.
Man, Jonas was probably in for a surprise when he discovered my XXL jockstrap from my bag. And unlike his - sorry - faggy underwear, I had worn that thing for a day now, so it wasn't exactly clean. I mean, there wasn't any reason for him to put it on, but what if he was curious? Or what if he was a little pervert who liked to experience the smell of a real man?
I shook my head. Where had that thought come from? I quickly got dressed in the rest of *my* clothes and drove home. However, during the drive I couldn't quite shake the thought of how Jonas might just be sniffing my jock, jerking his pathetic little cock furiously while doing so. Man, I really had no idea what was wrong with me today. When I arrived at home, my cock was hard and leaking pre into Jonas tight little pink underwear. Looks like I needed to blow off some steam.
I put on some lesbian porn and fished out my cock and balls from its tight confines. I have to admit that jerking off while wearing Jonas' briefs was oddly exciting.
At first, my eyes were glued to the two chicks on the screen, but as I got close to shooting my load, I leaned back and closed my eyes. Images of Jonas, wearing my much too large jockstrap came immediately and unbidden, but it was too late. With a groan, I came all over my toned and defined upper body.
I needed a moment to recover after that before I could start cleaning up. I stuffed my junk back into the pink underwear without really thinking about it, but realized it wasn't quite as tight as before. Perhaps the fabric was adjusting to my bigger mass. I was just about done with wiping the cum off my chest when my phone dinged with a message from an unknown number:
Unknown number:
"Hey there, it's Jonas, from the gym today. It seems like I grabbed the wrong bag when I left, and I want to return it to you. Can you give me your address?"
I thought about it for a moment while I saved his name to my phone. He probably found my number on the lost and found card, and I was just to agree, when I stopped. There was no rational reason not to swap back the bags as soon as possible and I had no plans for today. But...
Travis:
"Sorry, man, I can't today. How about tomorrow? We can meet at the gym."
I seriously had no idea why I lied, but not-so-little Travis twitched in the underwear as I wrote the message.
Jonas:
"Sounds good. Sorry I took your bag, I only noticed when I got home."
Travis:
"Don't worry, there's nothing important in there. Just my sweaty jockstrap, haha."
What was I doing? Why would I chat with a near stranger about my underwear? I was interrupted by the answer from Jonas.
Jonas:
"Yeah, I have found that thing already."
I hesitated. My cock was straining against pink fabric again, even though I just jerked off a few minutes ago. I really shouldn't be that excited, and I really shouldn't lead the poor gay guy on, but I couldn't help it. My fingers typed all on their own.
Travis:
"I see. And what did you do with it?"
It took a while before the next answer came in, and I feared that I had alienated the guy.
Jonas:
"Well, I'm wearing it right now."
Ha! I knew it! That guy was a pervert after all. I looked down at the tight pink boxer briefs struggling to contain my erection, while a small patch of precum had formed at the tip of the tent. Takes one to know one, right?
Travis:
"That old thing? I'm sure it smells sweaty as hell right now. Can you show me?"
Almost instantly, Jonas sent a picture of himself, wearing only the jock. It was way too big and baggy on him, and I could see his whole body in all of its unfit glory.
But somehow, it didn't look so bad. Absentmindedly, I squeezed my cock while looking at the picture. Then, with a mental "What the hell", I snapped a selfie for Jonas as well, of me wearing his pink boxer briefs. I didn't care to hide my boner, although it was less obvious than I thought. Might as well give him something to drool over, right?
After I had sent the picture, I looked at myself in the mirror some more. There was disappointingly little pump on my frame considering that I just came back from the gym. In fact, I looked even smaller than before I went to the gym. That couldn't be true, right?
But the bathroom scale confirmed. This was crazy! You didn't just lose five kilograms of body mass just like that. Especially, since my body mass was mostly muscles!
I took another look at the mirror, but it was true: my arms, my legs, even my chest. Everything looked less defined than before. And my chest was pretty smooth, too. I usually shave it, but since I have a high testosterone level or something, there's always a stubble remaining. Not so today. As I felt my chest with my hand, there was only smooth skin. What the hell was going on?
I looked back at my phone, and Jonas had answered again.
Jonas:
"Looks good on you, you should wear it more often! ;)"
Did he really think so? My heartbeat quickened on the praise from Jonas, and I could feel my cock reacting again. It must have gotten soft over the whole panicking, but reading this single line from Jonas was enough for it to strain against the tight underwear again.
Except... It wasn't *that* tight anymore. Sure, it was still a pair of boxer briefs and was supposed to cling to the skin, and it did, but before, my muscular ass, pelvis and of course, my large cock had filled it to the breaking point. Not so anymore. In fact, it fit pretty snugly, and although my cock was hard as a rock, the bulge it produced was much smaller than before.
My phone dinged with another message.
Jonas:
"Are you still there, Tray? You're still in for the gym later?"
Later? I thought we had said tomorrow! And why did he call me Tray? I quickly composed an answer.
Travis:
"Do we have to? I thought we'd said tomorrow."
The answer came immediately.
Jonas:
"Stop whining, Tray! I know you wane be big like I, so you must work hart!"
I cringed from the amount of spelling mistakes, but before I could answer, Jonas sent another Pic.
Was that still the same guy as before?! Sure enough, he was wearing my jockstrap, and the face was similar, but boy was he *ripped*. His arms and legs looked like he basically lived in the gym, and his hairy chest was sitting heavily on his perfectly sculpted eight pack abs. He even had a tattoo!
I looked back to the mirror in distress. I was positively scrawny, and not just in comparison. *My* arms and legs looked like twigs from a tree that were about to break from a strong wind. And were Jonas had all that chest hair and stubble on his chin, I was totally hairless, except for my perfectly styled bleached blonde hair.
I started to hyperventilate and had to lean on the sink to not fall.
What the hell was happening here?!
The phone dinged again, and I picked it up.
Jonas:
"Excpext yu wantto let ur tongue work out insted Todays bitch canceled and I Ned so to worship my "
It was getting really difficult to read, but I got the gist of it. But that wasn't right, right? Jonas was gay, just as me, and... Hold on, I... No, Jonas. Jonas wasn't gay, he was bi. Of course, with that fuck stick inside his smelly jockstrap, he'd fuck everything that moves.
All by itself, my hand had entered my pink boxer briefs and was jerking like crazy. Luckily, there was enough room in the underwear, as it was a bit loose usually. Even with my delicate hands, I couldn't close my hand around my shaft, it was just too small for that. So, I jerked with two fingers until I could finally stop myself. My cock wasn't as important for the upcoming meeting as my beautiful ass and my eager tongue that would submissively lap up every drop of sweat from Jonas manly body, so he would reward me with that magnificent cock of his. But still, no need to spoil the fun.
Tray:
"I'm coming over right now, Sir!"
I hope you enjoyed this little switchup! A few additional images can be found at my tip jar :)
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🔴 Please Please Please
Poly! Dark! 141 x Reader
TW: Dark Themes, Spicy Themes, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Non-Con, Violence, Blood, Death.
Description, Part 1
Main Masterlist | CoD Masterlist
You would think that a bunch of grown men in the military would be mature. Said military men from the 141 task force nonetheless.
But no- these soldiers were just as petty as any motherfucker, if not even more.
It was clear to anybody that you weren't welcome in the task force despite being their lieutenant as well, much like Ghost. Well, unlike Ghost, they didn't respect you at all.
It could be felt from how Price refused to touch you at all- always patting the others but made sure to keep the contact with you minimum.
It could be heard from how formal Soap talked with you despite being so comedic and casual with the others, his warm tone quickly turning cold as soon as a conversation tried to be initiated.
It could be seen with how Gaz was so affectionate and comfortable with others but turns stiff and awkward as soon as you walk into the room.
Now, Ghost... He showed his dislike for you through everything. You could see it, hear it, feel it and fucking sense it. His stern glare, his strict tone, his rough hold and how oppressive he feels near you.
His chocolate eyes which you first admired melted into fear as they resembled more like the dirt he would bury you 6ft deep in.
The 141 hated you.
It was crystal fucking clear.
You don't blame their hatred. You understood why they hated you, but you do blame their pettiness.
The way you joined was different from others. Price didn't choose you, you were assigned to the 141 by Laswell.
She said that your talents were essential to the 141 and could be put to good use. I mean, you did almost unalive Soap as proof to your skills.
You were the lieutenant of another task force to start it off. The 141's mission clashed with your team's mission which led to certain misunderstandings.
It was too late when the misunderstanding was cleared- you had already landed a shot through Soap's throat and poor lad was choking on his own blood.
If it weren't for your team's combat medic, the sargeant would have died of suffocation from a shot to the throat.
A couple months passed since that mission and sad to say, your team didn't last. Unrelated to the 141, due to a mission gone bad- your captain as well as one of your sargeants died. The team was unable to perform due to the loss and caused your other lieutenant and two sargeants to retire.
You, on the other hand, wanted to resume your duties as lieutenant despite the loss. You wanted to push forward- not because you were strong. But to punish yourself for their deaths.
You would be a waste to assign to any other team that wouldn't allow you to showcase your skills and talents. This caused Laswell to make the decision to assign you to the 141. Even if they complained.
Now, you understood why the 141 was so against your addition to the team. You didn't exactly have the best history together. But you tried to make it up for your mistakes. You really tried to mend things, find common ground, initiatiate a truce for almost a fucking year.
You felt desperate, pathetic almost.
"That would be all. You're excused, Lieutenant." Price waved you off from his office, you sighed as you shut the door behind you.
You made your way to the kitchen- hoping that at least, they took a bite of your efforts.
You stopped in your steps, a few feet from the kitchen counter, you stared at the unmoved and probably cold by now food left there.
They didn't touch it at all.
You felt frustrated. "Seriously?"
You went closer to the plates left alone by your team. Not a single thing was touched.
You really put your effort on this one. You took note of their favorite food even! You made them after a really tiring mission, you knew that the team would probably be starving.
You even heard Soap complaining about how his stomach was killing him.
"I fucking give up." You mumbled, angry and exhausted. One year and three months was enough.
"If they're gonna be petty then fucking fine. But my patience isn't forever and I'm done." You rambled on to yourself. You took the plates and dumped the food into seperate plastic containers.
You weren't a waste. You'd probably give the food to Riley, save the other containers for the following days. The K9 at least had more manners than the rest of the humans in this compound.
"I'm done trying to be the bigger person." You angrily muttered as you crouched down to place the container in front of the dog.
Riley tilted his head at you. Curious at your rambling and sensing your irritation.
One last mission. You promised.
Just one last mission with the 141 and you would demand a transfer from Laswell. If that won't be allowed- all might as well go to hell and you'd join Kortac.
Roze always tried to persuade you to join and Konig wasn't afraid to joke of your addition to the team. You were pretty sure it wasn't a joke as Horangi handed you official documents of transfer.
You gave Riley one last pat before heading back to your personal room. Being in the 141 had it's benefits at least with the special treatment.
It was nice to have your own room to yourself. You'd die of tension if you'd share a room with the rest of the team.
You passed Gaz in the halls, he stiffened at the sight of you and you internally rolled your eyes at that. You ignored him and headed straight to your room.
Gaz almost stuttered in his steps when you passed by him, not even sparing a single glance at him.
He looked back at you as you entered your room and shut the door. It was weird not being greeted by you for once. He brushed the encounter off nonetheless.
You just didn't notice him, he guesses.
But that didn't sit well in his gut either.
#Erindrinkstea#COD#Call of Duty#Task Force 141#Call of Duty x Reader#Task Force 141 x Reader#Poly 141 x Reader#simon ghost riley#john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#Dark 141
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Back Together
Alright so I lied, I warned you though so it's not my fault. Sometimes the mind just does what it wants.
Part 4
Pairing: Soap x Ghost
WC: 2.1k
Synopsis: Some 141 shenanigans inbound
Warnings: Mentions of a gunshot wound, nearly naked Soap
A tall, broad man shuffled down the hall pulling an IV pole along beside him. His steps were short and his other hand was glued to the place where a bullet had put him in the hospital when they had gotten back two days ago. As the large man reached the soft glowing lights behind a dirty pane of glass, and the many bags of chips, candy, and granola bars that sat just behind that he smiled and inspected the many options. The hospital food had been driving him up the wall and he was tired of eating the shitty food that the nurses brought in every day. His lips smacked behind the black face mask that Soap had brought him the first day he had come by. It wasn’t what he preferred to wear but it was better than nothing. Just like one of those snacks behind the glass would be.
His only problem was that he didn’t have money, and he didn’t exactly have anyone he could borrow some from. Instead the big man leaned down, his arm snaking through where you were supposed to pull your snack from. Instead he was reaching up into the machine, one eye closed in a wince while the other tracked his progress through the dirty glass. He almost missed the movement in the smudged glass as he froze. He had been caught red handed trying to steal from the hospital’s vending machine. Slowly he turned his head, arm still shoved up to the elbow inside the hole. He looked up at Captain Price whose eyebrows were furrowed, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Konig’s eyes shift back to his arm and then once more to Price. “H-Hello Captain,” slowly the arm pulled out of the vending machine, the German’s eyes staring down at the floor while Price continued to stare a hole into the side of his face.
The Captain sniffed once and cleared his throat before asking, “Do you want something Konig?” The German looked up then, a bit surprised before nodding. Price pulled a wallet out then, helping Konig up and asking him, “Which one?” The big man pointed slowly to a bag of m&ms and Price nodded as he punched in the number and leaned down to get the bag for the big man. As he handed it over to Konig another question came off his lips, “How would you like to join the 141 Konig?”
----------
It was Gaz that had shown up first to Soap’s room, banging a fist hard against the door the rest of the barracks be damned. The team had been sequestered to base for the past two days since they got back, they had brought an ex-KSK back to the UK which had caused…problems. Problems that Price was supposed to be fixing, like he always fixed the things Soap did without thinking. Meanwhile the Scotsman had slept for an entire day without leaving the room, only waking up to use the bathroom before going straight back to the darkness that awaited him. Gaz had tried to stop him on the way back, earning a friendly smile from the Sergeant and a raspy voiced, “I’m tired man, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” And Soap had disappeared back behind his door to sleep for another twenty hours.
And now here Gaz was again, banging on the door and yelling through it, “Come on Soap wake up!” The noise paused and the dark haired man pressed his body back into the mattress. It only lasted a few seconds though before Gaz hit the door again and said loudly, “I know you’re awake in there Soap, you’ve been sleeping for two days, you haven’t even come out to eat man. Come on, answer me.” Again the noise paused and Soap pulled the pillow over his head, groaning quietly into the mattress just wanting Gaz to leave him alone so he could pass out.
The next voice surprised him though, and the words even more so as Ghost spoke up, “We’ve got something on Price, Johnny.” The words were simple and quiet and just interesting enough to cause the Scot to roll over.
It had piqued his interest enough to drag himself out of the bed as he stood slowly on stiff legs, stumbling a bit as he caught himself against the wall. His foot caught against the edge of the bed in the pitch black and a quick, “Fuck” escaped his throat, dry and struggling to form the word. Finally he made it to the door, opening it with deliberate slowness. The light of the hallway shone into the room and illuminated a half naked Soap who was clothed only in his underwear. He wasn’t about to get dressed until they proved what they had was worth it. Blue eyes closed hard against the light as he flinched and struggled to put his eye on the two men who stood outside his door being illuminated by the light of the hallway. The blue eyes slid slowly between Gaz and then to Ghost, “What do you have?”
Gaz looked up at Ghost before the man lifted a gloved hand and showed Soap the object in his hand, “His laptop.”
Soap stared at it for a second and then turned his gaze to look up into the eyes of the tall man and nodded, “Give me a second.” Gaz smirked from beside Ghost as Soap shut the door to find a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. The door opened again to find Gaz was leaning against the doorframe and Ghost was leaning against the opposite wall. Soap beckoned them inside with a jerk of his head, moving aside and watching as Gaz slipped in with the laptop in hand and then Ghost moved towards him as well, bending over before he passed through and picking up a bag with the familiar golden arches and a jug of water off the floor. He handed the bag and the jug of water over to Soap as he pushed into the room. Soap’s eyes turned down to glance into the bag and then turned to the other two, “Did they release us from base while I was asleep?”
“No,” came Ghost’s quick and minimalistic reply.
“Then how did you-” He stopped his question when Ghost turned to look at him with eyes that said, ‘Does it really matter?’ Soap held up his hands as he let it go and inspected the inside of the bag, reaching in to pull out a few fries and taking a seat on his bed. “So how did you get Price’s laptop? And why?”
“Gaz was bored and you weren’t there for him to dare to do something stupid. And do you really need me to elaborate on the how?” Ghost tilted his head, sitting with one arm up on the back of the short couch and again Soap let it go as he dug in the bag for some more fries.
The Scotsman tipped the water jug back as he downed as much as he could in one go before clearing his throat and looking at Gaz. “So what, are we trying to figure out who is Price’s favorite or something? Figure out which one of us he has a picture with on his home screen?”
Gaz snapped his fingers and pointed at Soap then, “Exactly mate. Problem is we can’t figure out his password to get in. Now we’ve tried everything we can think of. All the classics 123456789, password, his name, we tried task force 141 and every variation of it. Hell we even tried the name of some of his old team members. Nothing, nada, we’re out.”
Soap was five chicken nuggets deep into his meal now, looking between the two men with a smirk on his face, “Are you serious?” Ghost looked at Gaz over the back of the couch where Gaz was sitting at his desk. Soap laughed at the both of them and shook his head as he licked his fingers and stood up, leaving the bag of food and the jug on his bed. “Move Gaz,” the Scotsman shouldered in leaning over to type quickly into the password bar, ‘SoapIsAWrench141’. He didn’t press enter before he went back to the bed and continued his meal. “So who are we betting is going to be on his home screen? Personally my money’s on Laswell, they’ve known each other forever.”
Blue eyes flicked between the two and Gaz shook his head, smirking when he answered, “Obviously it’s gonna be me. We all know he likes me the most.”
He could see the sideways look from Ghost immediately as the man shifted to watch the Sergeant over the back of the couch, “You? I’ve known him the longest. I get away with ten times the shite you ever could.”
“Bullshit, mate. You only get away with that shit because you’re fuckin Ghost.” Gaz shot back at the big man.
Soap’s hand shot up, “I’d like to be fuckin Ghost.” They both turned to look at the Scotsman with fries hanging from his mouth and more halfway there. He had frozen in place though realizing what he had said immediately and how it sounded. His face burned red, ears beginning to steam with the embarrassment of it. “I didn’t mean it like…that…” He looked down at the bag and just about anywhere other than at Ghost, “I meant I wanted to be Ghost, not fuck-”
“Shut the hell up Johnny,” Ghost stopped him before he dug himself further into a hole he couldn’t climb out of. Soap nodded his head with pursed lips and gave the Lieutenant a thumbs up as he went back to devouring his food. “Gaz, unlock the damn thing.”
Soap looked up as the other Sergeant turned in the chair to press enter and the screen went black for a second and then the home screen popped up. Price’s face dominated the screen, he was in his boonie hat with the sand camouflage pattern on it sitting in a beach chair and laying back with a black swimsuit on and thick black sunglasses. All of them stared silently at the screen before turning eyes to each other. Soap had sucked in his bottom lip and smiled as his teeth bit into the soft flesh to hold in his amusement. Gaz had put a balled up fist on his mouth and was beginning to shake with the start of a laugh. And Ghost, well Ghost looked the same as he always did because he had a mask on. Subdued laughs began bubbling up in the younger two men’s throats, each returning their eyes to the photo of their Captain relaxing on a beach, a sight they never thought they would see.
“What the hell are you three muppets doing?” In their laughs neither of them had noticed when Price had shoved the door open to Soap’s room. The laughs cut off immediately, Ghost it seemed was the only one to have noticed the disturbance before Price had made it through the door as he was now standing in front of the couch with his arms crossed.
The Captain immediately caught sight of his laptop sitting on Soap’s desk, opened and with the home screen shining bright into the center of the room. He looked to Soap who was also devouring a bag of fast food despite all of them having been stuck on the base for the past two days. Soap dropped the chicken nugget he was holding into the bag immediately pointing to the other two men as Gaz and Soap returned the friendly fire directed at the Scotsman. “Are you kidding me? I have been asleep the past two days and you’re going to blame me!?”
“Affirmative,” Ghost answered before turning his gaze back to Price.
The Captain walked over to Soap’s desk without a word, closing the laptop and picking it up with one hand. A dark look was in the Captain’s eyes now before he spoke, “0300 tomorrow morning boys. Enjoy your meal, Sergeant, you’ll be losing it in a few hours.”
A look of desolation painted Soap’s face as he looked down at his food and then to his two teammates. “Oh come the fuck on…” Ghost was hanging his head with his hands in his hoodie pocket now, they had grossly miscalculated and now they were all going to be paying for it.
Gaz was the first to stand and leave quietly, too stuck in his own mind about what torture Price had planned for them tomorrow morning to say much else to the other two. Ghost hung around for a few more minutes head tilting back to the ceiling lost in his own thoughts. When he too made for the door Soap sighed and said, “Thanks anyways for the food Lt. See you in a few hours.”
The tall man turned and gave Soap a nod, “You’re welcome, Johnny.” And then the Lieutenant was gone, leaving Soap to eat his meal in the quiet of his own room and his own thoughts.
#insecure soap#slow burn#soapxghost#ghost#ghost cod#ghostxsoap#passion project#soap#soap cod#soapghost#john price#captain price#call of duty#modern warfare#konig#konig cod#fanfic#kyle garrick#gaz#Soap really didn't mean it like that...at least not at first
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Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc
This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright
Price
HA! Good one!
No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around
That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart
Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)
He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress
Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...
Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off
She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions
What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻♀️)
Ghost
When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so
You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants
But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on
You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.
The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move
You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love
His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise
But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?
Soap
If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap
From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas
You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine
Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)
You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!
For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle
But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?
Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some
Gaz
By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is
Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps
There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't
You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest
And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most
But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…
He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?
You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲
#wiw asks#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#john price#simon riley#john mactavish#kyle garrick#tf 141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#cod x reader#cod mw3#call of duty#modern warfare 3#female reader
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You're reading what? (Ghost x reader x 141)
Summary: Soap finds out you're reading porn in your free time. Ghost decides to ask you about it.
Note: Barracks bunny, barracks bunny, barracks bunny! Sorry, reader's a slut. (affectionate) / I'll probably write more parts, maybe smut, maybe suggestive stuff, maybe fluff... I don't know yet. Check the #barracks bunny fics tag for more. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.
It was Soap who found out what you were reading in your limited free time during missions. You left your Kindle on the table while you went to the bathroom, and he wanted to see what book you were so invested in lately. When he read the first two paragraphs, his jaw dropped and a wide grin crept on his face.
"Hey, LT, you won't believe what she's reading," he said while he checked the title of the book just to know what to check later.
Ghost rolled his eyes, completely uninterested at the moment. He was busy writing a report that was due by the end of the day, and he had promised Price that he would do it on time. So he didn't have time to think about what stupid novel you were currently reading.
But Soap didn't give up. He put the device back where it was before, then took the chair next to the lieutenant. "It's porn. I'm not joking, she's reading porn," he said excitedly, keeping his voice down as he spoke.
With mixture of disapproval and interest in his eyes, he turned to the sergeant and asked, "And?"
"What do you mean? She's reading porn. No wonder she dodges every question regarding the books she's reading all the time," he replied before he typed something into his phone. "Here, this is the one she's currently reading."
Ghost took the device from him and tapped on the first search result. He read the summary, then moved on to some quotes the users highlighted. It was interesting to say the least. Were you really into this type of stuff?
When they heard your voice from the hallway, Soap took back his phone and closed the browser before you entered the room again. To you it probably seemed like they were talking about the mission and the report Ghost was writing, and this is why the lieutenant felt a little bad for this invasion of your privacy.
After being on this mission for so long, he was obviously frustrated. He couldn't just go to a bar to pick up someone, and his hand was less and less satisfying these days. His mind recently began to travel back to you and your book, and one afternoon, when he had some unexpected free time, he found himself buying and downloading that novel on his phone.
He got quite far in a matter of hours, and he couldn't help himself when he found you alone in a room after dinner. Ghost sat down across from you and took the Kindle from your hands to take a look at it. "Still reading porn?" he asked teasingly.
You gulped, your cheeks probably burning from the embarrassment you clearly felt. "H–How do you know about that?" you asked him after a few seconds of awkward silence.
"Soap stole this the other day," he replied as he gave back the device. "Don't worry, I think I'm the only one he told about this. Your secret's safe with me."
"I don't even want to know what you think about me now," you said with your head buried in your hands.
Ghost let out a dry laugh as he peeled your hands off your face. "Hey, it's okay. We spend way too much time here, I think it's safe to say we all need our fix one way or another," he assured you while holding your hand, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles into your skin.
Maybe he was flirting with you. The more he thought about you and what he had read in that novel, the more he wished he could do that in real life with you. He had always liked you; the disciplined, tough, but also kind soldier that got along with everyone on the team.
And the one Price played favorites with, he reminded himself. They all had their suspicions about the captain's motivation, believing he himself had a crush on you from the start. After all, why else would he bring you small gifts every time you met again? Why would he spend hours talking to you alone?
Sometimes Ghost wondered if there was anything between the two of you. Were you off-limits? Or was it a one-sided thing?
"And what do you do to get your fix?"
Your question brought him back to reality and he instinctively let go of your hand. He couldn't say that he jerked off to the thought of you. No, that would be way too creepy. So he shrugged, hoping this was enough to answer your question.
After a short pause, Ghost folded his hands on the table and leaned a little closer to you. "Have you ever tried anything that you read in your little books?" he asked you with a grin under the mask.
With your head tilted to the side, you watched him in silence for a while as you thought about your answer. "Do you even know what's in them exactly?"
"I began to read one of them. The one that reminded me of the Fifty Shades of Grey stories, only in a hardcore version," he replied casually.
An amused hum left your lips. "How do you even know what those stories are about? You don't seem to be the type who's into them."
Of course, Ghost had an answer to that. "I had an ex who made me watch the whole series. I didn't like it. Back to my question, have you tried anything from that book for example?"
"I have," you replied immediately, shamelessly grinning as you watched him.
It was hard to surprise Ghost these days, but hearing you answering so honestly definitely took him off guard. "The whole power play thing?" You nodded without hesitation as you took a sip of your soda. "With who?"
"Does it matter?"
"No, it doesn't," he admitted, knowing full well he probably wouldn't know that person anyway.
The pair of you sat there in silence for a while, your eyes locking every now and then before you flashed a smile at him then dived back into your book. He didn't mind, instead of complaining he just leaned back in the chair and watched you.
Ghost hated feeling this way, he hated that he could do nothing but wish for a cold shower in your presence. If he stood up now, you would surely notice how excited he was to be near you. He wanted to play with you too, he wanted to find out what you had learned from those books of yours.
Gaz walked into the room with a stupid smile on his face then put his hands on your shoulders as he leaned closer. "Price wants to see you," he announced before suddenly taking the ebook reader from you and taking a look at the page you were at. "Ooooh, another one? Do you even read anything else?"
Biting on your lower lip, you exhaled through your nose angrily. "I'm gonna kill Soap. I swear to God I'm gonna shoot him before we go home," you told them before snatching your Kindle from Gaz's hands and heading towards the door.
But on the way there you stopped behind Ghost and leaned down to his ear. He could feel your hot breath on his skin which made his cock twitch in his pants. Fuck, what were you doing to him?
"By the way, if you want to know more about what I want to try from those books, just say it. I'm sure we could arrange that," you added as your hand squeezed his shoulder.
Before he could say anything, you left the room, leaving him alone with Gaz. "Oh, you haven't figured it out yet," the sergeant said with a laugh.
"Figured out what?" Ghost asked, completely dumbfounded.
But Gaz only shrugged. "She's fun to be around. That's all I'm saying."
And with that, he left too. The lieutenant had absolutely no idea what to think. There were you, probably suggesting sleeping with him one day, and there was Gaz with his mysterious comment about you. As he let out a groan, he let his forehead hit the table with a loud thud. Why couldn't things be simple?
#call of duty#modern warfare#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#mw2#john mactavish#soap#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#gaz#barracks bunny fics
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Mein Kleines Mädchen
Older!König (40s) Young!reader (18- early 20s)
Giant age gap but y’know, size kink, slightly hyper fem!reader, reader is a female, König is rough and also has a cute little German accent and calls you cute pet names in German, König is also your dads bestie but not anymore! Creampie, slut-shaming but also praise , fingering.
Hope I didn’t miss anything! XD
(Gentle reminder that König is HUGE, I'm pretty sure he's 6'10 which, if you're average hight, is ginormous.)
You’ve always thought König was overly attractive, but you would never do anything…I mean he was your father’s best friend.
He always eyed you when they hung out, which was rare because he was always deployed.
König was way bigger than you were, he merely towered over you when you two would talk. Which, to say the least, you loved.
You thought he was so attractive. From how big he was to his greying ginger hair to his blue eyes which looked at you in such a way that made your stomach flutter.
****
He was finally coming over today. You were finally in collage now, in your eyes a grown woman.
He was staying the night according to your dad because he got kicked from his apartment from being gone so long, to which you weren’t complaining.
It was so early; almost too early, but you heard a knock at the door. Even before he knocked you felt his presence. Your heart pounds as you peak out of your window to see his car. You walk down the stairs, only in an oversized white t-shirt that covered your tight black shorts. You clear your shirt of any wrinkles before looking through the peephole and opening the door.
“Guten Morgen, schatz.” He smiles softly. you notice that he’s still quite dirty.
“Oh, ‘morning König.” you smile back softly before letting him in, your heart still pounding in your chest, it feels like it’s gonna run away.
He gives you a lousy side hug and drops his bags on the stairs before giving you a forehead kiss.
“Mm.” He breathes you in “Schatz, where is your father?” He backs away slightly to give you some sense of personal space.
“He’s working today until about 8:30. Sorry, I should probably let you settle in and shower I know you’re tired and-“
“Shh, liebling. Stay with me, I suppose I need some company, ja?” He looks down at you, reaching his calloused hand over and putting it on the side of your head in which you lean into.
“Okay, well first let me draw you a shower.” You bite your lip gently before leading him into the upstairs bathroom next to your room. He follows you, humming something you swear you've heard before.
"Du bist so ein liebes kleines Mädchen" (You're such a sweet little girl) König snickers while trailing so close behind you that he's basically hovering over you.
He thought you didn't understand what he was saying. You really touched up on your German before he came back from whatever mission he was on. You knew he said things to you in German before, but he never thought you'd know. Not until now. Your blood wastes no time making your cheeks hot and red with straight fluster.
He grips your arm and turns you with his mere strength. "Oh dear. Du verstehst jetzt?" (Oh dear. You understand now?) He tilts his head, squatting down to your hight.
You try to look down but he forces you to look up at him with your practically pathetic puppy eyes. "Ja...since you got deployed again. I should've told you, but I just wanted to know what you were saying to me."
His eyes feel like they're staring sharply into your soul, like he was looking straight into your heart. He knows that your heart grows and yearns from him. "Ja? Good girl." His accent spills out more when he's eager.
"C'mon lieb." He stands back up letting you finish showing him to the bathroom. You turn on the shower and make sure its the perfect temperature for such a man. You set out a towel and an unopened bar of soap.
"Okay, there you go. You can..um meet me in my room when you're done." You say with just a little bit of excitement in your voice.
"Ja, liebling." He says with a soothing voice rather than before.
As you wait in your room, you change into a pink see-though lingerie dress with a matching pink thong. To top it all off, you wear some white thigh high socks. You sit pretty on your bed and wait for him to get out of the shower.
****
You hear a knock at your bedroom door. "Hey, Liebling? Can I come in?" You ignore it for a second but before you can cover up he busts through the door.
"Mein gott liebe. Scheisse... don't do this to me. You know I can't hold back." His is heavy. It's obvious that blood went to his dick just from looking at his towel.
"I don't want you to hold back." You say as he steps into the room. His hair wet and towel barley covers his v-line. He sighs and walks closer to you.
“Mein schatz…What a fucking tease are you? Gut Gott.” He towers over your small frame, lifting up your legs and pressing kisses on your thighs as he props them up on his shoulder. His cock is fully hard, it’s throbbing and oozing out pre-cum.
“Bitte…König. You know how many years I’ve been waiting for this..” Your panties are so soaked that it’s visible. Who knew you’d be such a slut for the man who was there when your father wasn’t.
He moves your panties to the side with his middle finger. He pushes his middle and ring fingers inside you and rubs his thumb on your throbbing clit. You cry and whine under his touch. He knows how bad you need him.
“Is this too much schatz? If it is, how am I going to put this cock in you? It craves you, you know that liebling?” He takes his hand away from your wet entrance and lets the towel fall to his ankles. His cock springs up, you can see pearls of pre-cum dripping onto your bed. He gives his drooling shaft a couple of pumps before spitting on his middle and ring finger to wet your entrance just enough to fit his massive cock.
“Ready liebe?” He shoves the tip past your entrance making your shutter and whine from the size.
“Ja, you’ll be okay mein schatz.” You bite your lip and cry with him going deeper, trying to fit his 8 1/2 inches in your tight pussy that’s just taking him so well.
“König…s'too much..Bitte! Pleasepleaseplease!…” You whine and moan from the pain. Your thoughts are clouded with pure white pleasure. You know how wrong this is, but, Mein Gott, is it worth it. You're gripping his back and begging for god knows what.
“Nimm es einfach wie ein braves Mädchen, ja? Getting close for me already, Gut gott." (Just take it like a good girl, yeah?) König can't help but notice how pathetic and weak you are under him. His blunt tip pushes against your g-spot over and over again until you're crying and going cock-dumb over him.
" Du liebst es einfach, wie eine Schlampe gefickt zu werden, nicht wahr? What a good fucking girl for me." (You just love getting fucked like a slut, don't you? What a good fucking girl for me.) You can feel his thrusts getting sloppier and heavier. His breath begins to hitch and he can't help but whimper just a little from how tight his Liebe is.
"König...gonna cum right now.. Vati... fuck- feels s'good..." Before you can even think about getting close, he pulls out of you and sits down on your bed, getting comfy before motioning you to sit on his lap. You slide off your panties and see-through dress, craving that skin to skin with him.
"Ja, that's it Mein Schatz, ease down on me, you've got it Liebe" As you sink down on his fat cock, he notices that it makes an indentation on your tummy.
"S'too much König... too big." You barely make out in whimpers and cries. He continues to thrust deeper into your sopping cunt. You really hope your dad isn't gonna come home anytime soon.
"Shh, It's alright, you'll be okay Mein Liebe. Just let me use this pretty pussy, ja?" He pushes his cock so far up into you that you were genuinely surprised on how he was able to bottom out in you. His thrusts are sharp and fast with so much power that you moan everytime he thrusts. König knows you're close from the way you're clenching down on him and how loud your moans are.
"Bitte... I need to.." You cry out before König's thrusts become sharper and somehow even faster.
"I know, I know. I'm gonna come with... scheisse- come with you, okay?" He can't stop grunting now, its all pleasure now. White pleasure clouds his visions.
"Christ- Ich liebe dich schatz- fuck. I always have. And look, now I get to fuck this little body of yours and even fill you up with my cum, eh?"
His vision returns to you, already cumming on his cock. So pathetic, you can't even speak. You're too entranced at cumming on his thick cock to even think. And now here he is, filling you up with his potent cum. He pumps and twitches just a few more times until you two ride out your orgasm.
****
"Was I too much Mein liebe?" He wraps his big arms around you as you snuggle into him. warm sheets cover your bodies.
"You were perfect. Everything and more than what I was ever expecting." He wraps you into him even tighter, pressing kisses on your forehead and soft lips.
"Ich liebe dich auch, König."
Your dad's gonna be so pissed when he finds out his little girl is getting fucked by his so called best friend.
#konig smut#konig age gap#könig x reader#könig cod#könig x you#cod#könig call of duty#I love German men#cod smut
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hi, is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons where Leona, vil and rook(separately) has a s/o who starts randomly wearing gloves and hiding their hands from them due to getting really bad contact dermatitis from their work and not really able to do anything about it work wise
COMMENTS: Coincidentally, I myself have problems with dermatitis on my hands. So, perhaps what I wrote comes a lot from my own experience. Especially the thing about using an ointment that worked once and for some reason no longer works. 😅 And having some trouble sleeping because of the itching.
I hope you and all enjoy it ❤️🩹
CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar / Vil Schoenheit / Rook Hunt
TAGS: Comfort; Fluff; GN Reader
WORD COUNT: An average of 610 words per character
Contact dermatitis is an itchy, inflamed rash that develops when your skin comes into contact with an irritant or allergen. There are two main types: Irritant contact dermatitis and Allergic contact dermatitis.
I decided to go with the first one since Irritant contact dermatitis is the most common type. It's caused by a substance that irritates the skin, such as soaps, detergents, solvents, or harsh chemicals.
CONTEXT: You got dermatitis after cleaning Ramshackle Dorm. It's not the first time, you already had it before, so you think you know how to treat it. Nobody needs to know. So you will take care of your hands at home and whenever you go out you will wear gloves to try to protect them. You'll be fine in no time... Right...?
Leona knew something was wrong the moment he saw you wearing gloves. Nobody starts wearing gloves out of nowhere just because. But he didn't need to ask anything because he saw you moving your hands as if those gloves were uncomfortable. And once or twice he saw you scratching your hands through your gloves and stopping immediately as if you had remembered that you shouldn't do it.
He wasn't going to get involved. At least not if it looked like you were getting better. But on the second day, you still itched. And on the third day, you had bigger dark circles than usual and the itching seemed the same or worse.
You had just returned to Ramshackle Dorm and the first thing you did was take off your gloves and run to the bathroom to treat your hands. Why didn't that get better? You were using the same ointment as last time.
“You should go to the infirmary.” Grim said “Hench-humans should take better care of themselves so they are always ready.” He teases you before showing actual concern. “You're not even sleeping well. I wake up to you scratching yourself every five minutes.”
You won't admit it, but he's right. You should go to the infirmary. Maybe tomorrow. That's what you're thinking when you hear someone knocking on the door. But you can't cover your hands now, the ointment is still working. So you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.
“Show me your hands.” Leona demands calmly. You look surprised and confused. “Show me your hands.” he reiterates, crossing his arms but still patient.
“Why?” you ask.
“Why are you hiding them?” he asks back. “If everything is normal, why don't you show me?” and smiles smugly.
I mean, he's right. Who opens the door with one hand behind their back. This is very suspicious. You hesitate, but end up stretching your arms in front of you to show your red hands and unhealthy skin.
But Leona isn’t surprised. He barely even reacts. As if you had just confirmed his suspicions. He takes off one of his own gloves and puts it in his pocket, holding one of your hands with his gloved hand while he runs the other carefully over your broken skin, to feel it. Does he know it's not contagious?
“The ointment isn't working, is it?” He sais. You had just put it in your hand, so he definitely felt the moist. He puts the glove back on. “Do you have your keys?”
You say they are on the entrance table.
“So grab them and let's go. Unless you want to be locked out of the dorm.”
“Let’s go where?”
“To the herbivores club party. To the infirmary. Where else? If you don't go there alone, someone has to take you. Don't tell me you forgot where it is?” he smiles smugly again. “And don't make me pick you up. You know I would.”
Vil saw your new gloves. Were you trying to change your style a little? No. That's not it. You were uncomfortable with those gloves. He knows about fashion, the same way he knows when a person is using a piece to hide some part of their body.
After classes you went back to Ramshackle Dorm, took off your gloves and applied the ointment. It had worked last time, but this time it didn't seem to be having any effect. You had just come out of the bathroom, with your hands smeared with pumice, when someone knocked on the door. Damn it.
You can't cover your hands now, so you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.
“Hello (Y/N)” Vil greets you. “I apologize for the sudden appearance, but can I come in to talk to you about something?”
You think for a second, you can keep hiding your hands behind your back, so you tell him he can come in. He enters and you close the door behind you, always hiding your hands.
“You've never used gloves before. It's not your style.” It didn't sound like he was criticizing you, like he tends to do with a lot of people. In fact, he sounded quite calm and neutral, almost understanding. “If there's one thing I know how to distinguish when someone starts using a new accessory, it's whether they're using it to try to improve their appearance or to hide themselves. And this second one tends to be a sensitive subject. That's why I thought it would be best to ask you in private. Did something happen to your hands? Are you injured?”
You tell him no, that you're not injured. Well, not exactly in that sense of the word at least. You end up telling him the truth about your skin and how it has reacted to cleansing products.
“Dermatitis? Let me see. I want to know how bad it is.” He now has that judgmental look on his eyes. Which makes you hesitate a little, but you are now also at the point of no return.
You take your hands from behind your back and show Vil your red hands and unhealthy skin, without being able to look him directly in the eyes.
“For the Great Seven! And you let your skin reach this point?” he scolds you. “When did this happen? Have you gone to the infirmary already?”
You say you went there the last time this happened and they gave you an ointment, which was what you were applying.
“And is it having any effect?” He asks. You say that, compared to last time, not really. “Then get ready to go to the infirmary.” He thinks for a second if you should protect your hands from the sun, which reminds him of the gloves he saw you wearing that day. “Let me see the gloves you were wearing.”
You go get the gloves and give them to him. He looks at you disapprovingly as soon as he picks them up.
“These cheap gloves? This material is horrendous! It's probably making your situation even worse.” He throws the gloves onto the entrance table. If there had been a rubbish bin there he would have thrown it in there. He takes off his own gloves and hands them to you. “Here, use mine. They are cotton inside.” You hesitate. His gloves? And they must be expensive. “You can keep them. I have many more like these.”
As you put on his gloves, he details his new plans with you.
“We will go to the infirmary and you will hear everything they told you to do and use. After that, we will review all your cleaning products and materials you use that come into contact with your hands and can create this reaction again. If we have to get rid of everything and buy new products we will do so.” You look at him and show your concern about the price of these possible new products. “If they are truly that expensive, I'll buy them for you. Your hands won't go back to this state on my watch. And then you come with me to Pomefiore to analyze your skin and find products to protect and care for your hands. Did you understood?”
Que Adorable! Rook thinks. Trickster really thought they could hide something from me? That really entertain him. Seeing you wearing gloves and trying to hide how uncomfortable you were wearing them and trying not to scratch your hands too much. You reminded him of an animal that tries to hide the fact that it is seriously injured.
Even though it was funny at first, he couldn't see you like this. He assumed what it was from the symptoms you show, but he didn't want to talk to you in front of others. After all, if you were trying to hide it, it's because he didn't want others to know.
He sneakily followed you to Ramshackle Dorm. You opened the door, letting Grim enter first to run to the kitchen for some snacks. You pass the door jamb and it's when you go to close the door that you hear
“Bonjour, Trickster!” Rook’s head pops from the side. He lets out a little muffled laugh at how startled you were. “I spotted yor new pair of glove on your hands. Are you perhaps trying a new look? Merveilleux! It's exciting to try out new accessories to express another side of ourselves, isn't it? However...” His friendly look now changes to that hunter look of his. And the smile of someone who cannot be deceived. “I don't believe that's the real motive you're wearing those gloves. Am I mistaken?”
You don't even know how to answer him. He already knows the truth and you know there's nothing you can do about it. His expression returns to normal, he now has that characteristic resting smile on his face.
“There's no need to be shy with me. I purposely came to talk to you here because I knew it wasn't something you wanted to discuss in public.” And now his smile has faded into that slightly more serious look that he only tends to have when something worries him a little, or when he feels that the situation is not so light. “I saw how you itched your hands, how uncomfortable you were with the gloves. It's a skin problem, isn't it? Maybe dermatitis?”
You don't say anything. It's not necessary. He knows the answer just by looking at you, your face, your posture. And your hands were starting to itch again.
“Please, you can take off your gloves. They are clearly only making your situation worse.” You hesitate. “It really hurts me to see you suffering like this. No matter how damaged your skin is, I know that your hands are as beautiful as the rest of you and that they just need treatment to become très belles again. And if you allow me to help with your recovery, I will do so with the greatest love and care.” He smiles charmingly at you, the type of smile that makes you feel safe.
You take off your gloves, showing him your red hands and unhealthy skin.
“Sacrebleu! What did this to your hands?”
You tell him it was your cleaning products and about the ointment you were using since the last time that happened to you. And, unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be having much effect this time.
“We must go to the infirmary if it's not working anymore.” He proclaims, embodying his dramatic self. “Ooh, your poor, beautiful hands, threatened by something that should assist you caring for your home and yourself. They must be replaced. I will happily help you with it and get you gloves that will protect you in the future. Fear not, my dear Trickster. Shall your hands be healthy once again.”
If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
#1000 followers#1K followers#1000 followers milestone#1K followers milestone#1000 followers celebration#1K followers celebration#Twisted Wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst imagines#twst wonderland#twst fluff#Twisted Wonderland Fluff#twst requests#Twisted Wonderland requests#requests#Leona Kingscholar#Leona Kingscholar x Reader#Leona x Reader#Vil Schoenheit#Vil Schoenheit x Reader#Vil x Reader#Rook Hunt#Rook Hunt x Reader#Rook x Reader
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Hello gremlin!
I’ve read most of your monster!141 and I absolutely love how you write these stories!
I was wondering if you could do something with a barn owl reader! Barn owl are my favorite animal in general and i would love to see how the monster!141 boys will react to such a cute but deadly hybrid.
I think it will be hilarious how easily you can sneak up on them! After all silence and stealth is a common trait amongst owls. Also it’s not like your a tiny hybrid either you are pretty big and strong but not taller of stronger than the boys
-again i love your work, it’s simply amazing ( i also hope this ask isn’t too weird) 🦉🦉
You weren't even a pet at first. One of the scouts, the flying patrol for the base - the deadly one, really, although the fact that you're only active at night makes you a bit less of an effective soldier than you should be initially. It's fine, you thought, it should be fine - you're flying under the radar, you don't catch attention, you do your job.
Then you are accidentally caught in a full moon with Soap and Ghosts. You learned the secret of the most mysterious operator on the base - and you wish you didn't. Stuck on a night patrol with two horny dog and dog-ghost hybrid was...something. Something that got you squished between two of your superiors, your wings petted and stimulated relentlessly and your pussy and ass squeezing their knots. The two of them truly are just dogs at heart - refusing to separate from each other and from you, you could only hoot in pleasure as they were using your body like you were one of pets and not a fellow soldier. You knew what that would mean, obviously - you're strong, yes, but not to the point of their strength. You're not breedable or soft or small, but they are still stronger and you're still cumming around them like a lowly creature you are. Soap marks you with his bites and Ghost pushes his hands around your waist, squeezing you into the shape of a mate. You know your service as a soldier is over.
It's not that bad with others - Gaz still respects another flying hybrid in the team, going on patrols whenever you are not being bred, and enjoying flying with you. Even if that means he is only doing this so he could fuck you up on some high mountain or the watching tower, so be it. You want freedom, you crave it, and if spreading your wings also means spreading your legs a bit later than fuck it - Kyle is making you cum, after all. Almost treating you like an equal, this is refreshing after the treatment you're getting from his fellow teammates. He loves to kiss you, to cover you in soft smooches and little pecks, and you never felt so utterly loved.
Price is...a bit conflicted. He still treats you as a soldier sometimes. sending you on patrols and when you're all too eager, he is reminded that you're their pet - even though you look and act like a proper recruit. He knows how predator hybrids are, how you need work to do because just laying with your legs spread in your nest won't cut it for someone like you - so he sighs and gives you paperwork, at least, it's something to do whenever you're not filled with their pups. Price is softer with you, he is forcing himself to be. Being strict and acting like your captain is a second nature to him, but you're changing your circumstances really quickly and he just wants you to be good. Just wants you to feel alright even though he understands that the transition was harsh.
#cod#cod x reader#yandere cod#tw: monster fucking#monster!gaz#monster!ghost#monster!soap#monster!price#price x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#ghost x reader#yandere ghost#yandere price#yandere gaz#yandere soap#soap#soap mw2#price cod#john price#ghost#simon ghost riley#gaz cod#kyle gaz garrick
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IM GLAD YOURE GOOD <333
also whilst we’re here. you know how girls get scary horny right before their periods? like i need to be tied to a tree like a wolf when im ab to get mine JDJDJDJ
peters never had a gf before trouble and the first time it happens he fr thinks he’s in HEAVEN. he doesn’t understand but she’s just on him 24/7 and he’s living for it. but also confused bc he can’t think of what he’s done differently to have u pouncing on him 24/7 but he’s not complaining djdjdnd
BOYFRIEND FRAT!PETER LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO
-i've literally had this done for like two months but i got scared and let it collect dust. not anymore bby!!!-
for the fourth time today, peter tilted his shoulder towards his face to sniff his shirt. it smells just fine, it's clean cotton. he didn't get a new fabric softener so it couldn't be that, and it's not like he got a new cologne or soap.
peter couldn't place it, but something about him lately has you absolutely feral. especially today, he almost had to peel you away from his skin so he could go to class.
'i missed you so much,' you moved quicker than peter's ever seen, his feet haven't even come to a stop on the pavement before you're kissing him.
it becomes more sensual than he's willing to provide in public.
'it was an hour, trouble. what'd you do, wait for me?' peter meant it in a teasing way, he didn't expect you to nod quickly. 'yes. you're about to open your instagram to thirty messages, i'm so sorry.'
your palms race over his arms, something about him seems ultra soft today. in the least joking way possible, he really does feel like boyfriend material. and he was all yours.
'did you know i love you? like, so much.' he did, but he still loves to have a reminder. 'i love you so much it's uncool.' you've got a glazed look in your eye.
peter knows that look and if he's being honest, he's done nothing to deserve it. the last two days you haven't been able to keep your hands off him.
is this what people mean by the honeymoon phase?
'i love you too, trouble. what's got you so mushy recently?'
puffed cheeks, no regard and absolutely no reason to hold back. 'i just really wanna fuck you.' peter takes a sharp breath, something about you being bold makes his knees weak. it must be his desire to please.
'i would, i really, really would...' with gentle scratches up and down the back of your arm, you know he's setting you up for a no. you whine and pout up at him.
'no! you're not allowed! just say yes, please say yes!'
it's literally tearing him up inside. 'baby, i'm already going to be late for my library session. i also have a chapter meeting tonight.'
'do you really-'
'yes.' there was no way he'd be budging on that one. peter made you know you were number one priority, frat responsibilities sat right under you.
if he was suggesting you'd have to wait until late, or worse, the next day, you'd die.
'what about after the library? before the meeting?'
peter's never seen you so persistent. he really doesn't know what he's done, but he won't complain one bit. he'll be a little crunched for time, but that's no reason to let you down.
'if we use your dorm, yes, i think we can make it work.'
peter’s forced to balance himself, you attacked him with a bear hug and nuzzled into his chest. ‘thank you, thank you, thank you! i’ll tell my roommate right now!’
seconds tick. he’s already late and you’re not moving, keeping him in your grasp while your thumbs fly across your phone to send out a message.
‘trouble, you’re making me late.’ because you’d be offended if he pushed you away.
a finger is held up, ramped texting takes priority. ‘trouble,’ the second you feel yourself pushed to the side you huff up at him. 'don't toss me off to the side like i'm some toy, i'm your girlfriend.'
'you're not a toy, you're just not listening, therefore making me late.'
your arms cross over your chest, 'fine. whatever, go.' peter is nowhere in the wrong, but you're making him feel like he is. if this was before, he could just walk away. but now, he has to pause and address your concerns.
he's still adjusting to boyfriend duties.
'don't get mad with me, i'm being very nice.' he is, he even let you gently bully him into getting him into your room in an hour and a half. you hold your stance, it takes a few seconds, but he catches on.
'you're not mad, you're pouty. don't be pouty, you're gonna see me in an hour.'
a toddler grumble, 'i'm gonna miss you too much.'
peter really doesn't know where the sudden desperation came from, he really needs to check in with you, but if he's any later, he's gonna piss off a whole room of people.
'i'll miss you too, trouble.' it appeases you enough, you finally allow him to pass. peter isn't able to go a full three steps until you tell him to wait, he realizes his mistake.
'sorry, c'mere.' three quick kisses, you make it hard to pull away. 'love you,' he allows you to sneak another kiss. 'love you too, petey.'
—-
one thing you loved about peter was that he was always on time, at least for you he was. just like he promised, he was at your door an hour and a half later with a hand on his stomach.
‘i’m missing dinner for this, i could be having a nice catered meal with the boys, but no, it wasn’t allowed.’
‘that’s very kind of you, handsome.’
‘i just needed to let you know, you know, in case i go lethargic or my stomach starts growling.’
‘as long as you don’t pass out on top of me, gerald’s game scared me.’ peter holds his fingers up in a scouts honor, ‘i promise.’ it’s all it takes, you reach for his shirt, clenching the fabric, you tug him in. shutting the door and slamming him against it, your lips on his in a minute.
peter’s mind is spinning, he’s never been pushed up against a wall. it feels nice, it’s a good feeling to know someone wants him so badly a tinge of aggression comes with it.
your kisses trail over his jawline, you’ve never been so desperately horny in your entire life, something about him has you dialed to ten recently. it could be the impending period, but that just feels like a fraction of the reason.
feeling slightly guilty you’ve ruined his meal plan, you pull back, just for a second to rip his shirt off. when his skin is shown, your hands race over it, he’s toned, and tanned, and down right delicious.
you scatter kisses over his chest, peering up at him. ‘are they saving you a plate?’ peter looks down, he’s lost at your words. you’re asking about plates while worshiping his body?
‘huh?’ a trail of wet marks across his collarbone.
‘dinner. are they saving you a plate?’
how do you expect him to answer while you nibble a bruise on the bottom of his neck? ‘i don’t…’ peter takes a sharp inhale, he never knew he had a sweet spot until you found it. it’s behind his ear, and he has to lean down, just slightly, but it’s so, so worth it.
‘i don’t know, probably not. guys don’t think about stuff like that.’
you pull away with a pop, raising your thumb to brush over the red mark. ‘hold on,’ you turn for your phone abandoned on your bed, on the walk over you take your own shirt off.
it’s a quick text and a quicker response, your guilty conscience cleared. ‘done. ethan said he’ll save you one.’
‘my hero.’
you jump to your bed, shimmying your pants off before sitting up on your knees, you get into position, shaking your hips at your boyfriend before arching slightly.
‘are we thinking doggy?’
peter’s still stuck to the door, ‘you wanna start with doggy? what happened to foreplay?’
you move to your back to tug your underwear off, you were only following his words. ‘you said we would be strapped for time, i’m making it easier.’
‘by blowing past the most important thing and having me jam it into you?’
you narrow your eyes at him, ‘once upon a time you didn’t care about foreplay.’
‘that’s old peter, he’s dead.’
‘let’s revive him.’
peter finally steps away from the door, he feels ten times warmer. his arms move around like he’s trying to clear the air, ‘alright, hold on, we need to talk.’
four words that are forced to put the night on pause, he could wait for a heart to heart after. ‘let’s not.’ you reach for his jeans, he steps out of reach. ‘peter! you were the one that said it would be a time crunch, i’m doing my best here, let’s go.’
‘not until you tell me why you’re so possessive lately. this whole week, you can’t get enough of me. what’s going on?’
peter’s starting to think you have some doubts running through your head and if you have enough of yourself to him he’d stick around. it’s a bogus idea but you’ve done it before to him, maybe it’s worse because there’s more to lose now with the title.
‘i’m horny.’ there wasn’t much else to add. he’s just made you wildly needy this entire week, but peter wasn't buying it. with crossed arms he waited until you really told him what was going on.
you groan, the quicker you explain, the quicker you get what you wanted. 'fine, what do you know about the menstrual cycle?'
'as little as possible.' while he's slightly more knowledgeable than most men his age, everything he's learned has been against his will.
'great. i just got off mine two weeks ago, i'm ovulating, aka, my body wants a baby real bad. not just any baby, your baby, that's why i'm so horny for you.' you hope it's enough to appease him, you shuffle around on the bed.
'fucking in this bed sucks.' there's little room for peter but you did what you could with the space you had. 'also, expect this monthly. cause, it's gonna be your problem now that you're my boyfriend.'
peter breathes deep, 'that has got to be... the best problem i've ever had in my entire life.' peter moves so quickly your head spins, he's on his knees in front of the bed while you're pulled to the edge.
kisses up the inside of your thigh has you pulling at his hair, 'peter, you're gonna be late.' you suck in hair as he nibbles on your skin. 'we don't have time for this.'
it pauses him, peter looks up into your eyes, a cocky smirk forms. 'my girl has a primal urge, and it's my job to take care of it.'
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“BEFORE THE BABY”
P/S: What was it like before babydaddy!eren was a baby daddy. And the reason he became one in the first place.
W/C: 4.2K
A/N: uhhh, this is a lil nasty. But this is before y/n gets pregnant and the relationship dynamic, there is a bit of dynamic shifting (d/s), pet names like babydoll, reader calls him daddy, safe words and things of that nature, of course MNDI, modern
“Look, I’m not dealing with your bullshit.” You said annoyed, trying to close the door. “I’m not bullshitting. I mean it.” he said. “Eren, I'm not in the fucking mood today okay.” You stood with your front door cracked, one foot nudged behind it to keep him outside.
“Come on. Please, hear me out.” he begged. You look into his eyes, a hint of desperation lingering. What the hell is his game this time? You were all too familiar with this cat and mouse mind maze he always played with you. Yet as self aware as you are, you somehow always fall back into the traps. Like Vickie Lo, it's always break up to make up just to break up again. Why? Who knows. You could always blame it on the toe curling make up sex every time yall had whenever you gave into him. Or the fact that you didn't respect myself enough as a woman to not allow a man to treat you like this, at least that's what your great grandmother would often remind you each time you went over for family dinners. Yet, she wonders why she doesn’t see you as much anymore. Or it could simply be that for some reason, you actually cared about him and dealing with the stress was easier than not dealing with him at all. At least that's what you’ve always told yourself each time you ran back to him. The truth of the matter is you didn't want to let him go because you didn't know how to. Eren had been your first of many things. Your best friend, Your first kiss, Your first love. You’ve known each for as long as you could remember.
It wasn’t a mystery that he would be your first in bed as well. Honestly, you both were amazing together…except when you were together. For some reason, the moment you started to take your relationship seriously, everything went to hell. It's like you couldn’t get it right no matter how hard you tried. But it was always a constant in your life, him being there. So your lives went in a consistent loop of ups and downs. In this moment, you were in another down as he stood on your porch doing the same thing he’s always done. Crawled back when he’s sick of being alone. “Babydoll. Please, just let me in.” he pleaded, pressing a hand against the door. “For what Eren? So you can pull the same bullshit you always do?” you spit out. “I’m not bullshitting you this time.” he explained, his hands pressing into the oak wood on the door. “Okay, so say what you have to say right here.” You said, putting a hand against your hip, a smirk at your lips. “Right here? On the porch?” he asks, confused. “Yes, since you got so much to fucking say. You don't need to be in my house to say it. Matter of fact..” you start to get louder but the sound of your neighbors screen door caught your attention. You roll your eyes.
If your elderly neighbor was one thing, it was nosey. She was always poking her head out searching for drama for her brunch club and unfortunately for you, your life has become her most recent soap opera. You clench your jaw in frustration as you turn your attention back to the cause for the current drama. “Eren, I really don't have the fucking time to deal with this today. So if you got something to say, hurry up and get it over with.” You say, trying to get this over with. “If you want me to then okay. I’ll say whatever right here. But I want you to listen to me this time and not just let me talk. Will you at least promise me that?” He asked. You open your mouth to speak but the squeaking of her door interrupted you again. She stood there with her head peeking out of the door, anticipating the mes to unfold. You were at the end of your wits. It was one thing to have to deal with him but, she was a whole different story. “I’m sorry. Do you need something?” You call out to her. Her eyes widen slightly before she narrows them at the both of you. You tilt your head at her, waiting for a smart comment to come out of her mouth. You’ve always been taught to respect your elders but today was one of those days.
She huffed and mumbled under her breath as she slinked back into her house, shutting the door behind her. You rolled your eyes again and turned back to Eren once more. “Now back to you.” Your anger was getting worse. Why was he even here? You were set to gave a great lazy day at home. That was indicated by the oversized university sweats hanging off his hips, your pink laced g-string peeking out of the top. A tight fitted cropped tank with the word “ANGEL” pasted across your breasts. Your snack-cuterie board was stocked to the brim and all your favorite Disney classics were queued up on the tv. You had all the makings of a lazy day in. So it was obvious to say that you were pissed that your night came crashing down once you opened your door to a set of bright emerald eyes staring down at you. “Babydoll?” He called pulling you from your thoughts.
“Stop calling me that.” You say, annoyed at him. “Okay, y/n. Please. You want me to beg? I will literally get on my knees and beg. Right here. I just need this chance. I mean it.” He says, slowly beginning to drop to his knees. Fuck you think to yourself. “Eren…” you say, letting out a frustrated sigh. He had already dropped one knee to the ground and seeing him like that sent a chill down your spine. You quickly shook the image from your mind. “Would you get up? You're making a scene.” You fuss pulling at his arm. Confusion laced his face as he lifted himself to standing. “You just told me…” he started. “I know what I said. I just…damn it. Eren, seriously what the hell do you want from me?” You groan, pressing your thumb and pointer finger against the bridge of your nose. “I want to talk to you.” He begged. “Why? There is nothing for us to even talk about.” Your arms fly up in the air with frustration at the consistent badgering. Normally he would’ve given in by now, giving you time to cool off before he came back a few days later pestering you again. What the fuck is his problem.
“All I need is five minutes. That’s all. And I’m done.” He tried compromising. This is not going to end well. I just know it. Everything in you wanted to say no. You met his gaze, he stared in anticipation, eyes widened like a lost puppy as waited for you to respond. He needed you to let him in. He knew it was a lot to ask but this time, he couldn’t walk away. Not again. Eren stood in front of you, hands hanging by his side as his fingers twitched slightly from his nerves. He opened his mouth to try and plead his case again for the umpteenth time but you spoke before he could utter a word. “Fuck. Okay, fine.” You reluctantly give in to him. His eyes widened with hope “You get two minutes. That’s it. So you better make this shit count.” You say as you ease up on the door and let him inside. He nodded his head frantically as he made his way inside. What the fuck have I done you think to yourself as you follow behind him, closing the door and turning the bolt lock
“How does it feel, baby girl?” he cooed. A soft moan escaped through the cherry gloss of your lips as his fingers gently caressed the throbbing bundle of nerves between your legs. Fuck. You think to yourself. “Come on babydoll, talk to me.” he continued, adding slightly more pressure. Your eyes roll towards the back of your head as you let it drop back into the satin covered pillow. Damn this feels so fucking good. Eren continues with slow counterclockwise circles, adjusting the pressure with each motion. Your body is reeling as the waves of pleasure roll through you. His fingers slip inside of you causing your body to jolt forward, arching your back from the bed and pressing your pussy into his hand. He presses the palm of his hand onto your clit as he pumps his middle and ring fingers into you slowly. His digits gently caress your insides, your slickness dripping out onto the sheets below you. Eren curves his fingers upwards towards your g-spot, making a “come here” gesture as he pleases you.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
He works you over slowly, breaking down your mental wall and sending your body further down the pleasure spiral. Your body has a mind of its own as it starts to shift forward, rocking back and forth against his long, skilled fingertips. A smile graced his face as he pushes the digits all the way inside of you, coaxing out another whimper from your lips. He pushes them into the knuckles as your body releases against his hand, your cum coating his palm and dripping to his wrist. Eren pulls his fingers from inside of you and brings his hand to his mouth, dragging his tongue up his palm and swallowing your juices. He quickly drops down and presses his belly against the mattress so that his face is lined up with your pussy. He wasted no time dragging his tongue from your opening up to your clit, licking up the mess he just made. You legs threaten to close but he brings his hands up to your inner thighs pressing them to the sides of the bed. “Ereeeen..fuck.” You cry out as he flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit.
Eren knew your body like it was his own. Let him tell it, it was his own. He knew every spot to hit to make you squirm underneath him. You watch as he takes his time, devouring you. His eyes raise up from between your legs and catch your stare. The burning gaze made your heart flutter. Eren stares into your soul as he slows his pace. You watch him pull back and flatten his tongue before bringing it forward and pressing it between your legs, covering your lips. He let his saliva drip all over you as he slid his tongue against your folds, swirling his tongue in wide zig zag motions as the fluids drenched your pussy. An audible gasp escapes your lips once the warmth of his mouth covers the hood of your clit. He twists the tip of his tongue in small circles around your clit as he continues to suck the hood between his lips. Your head falls back, mouth in an O as a whispered fuck coasted into the air. Your orgasm rolls into a ball in your belly, the tingles tickling your core before it explodes from your center and covers your entire body in ecstasy.
Eren watches you through hooded eyes as he sucks your juices down his throat. He loves seeing the way you fall apart under him. He would do anything to keep that blissful look on your face. He lapped at you, the wetness the only sound ringing in his ear aside from your broken pants. “Rennie…” you pant, rubbing your hands through his soft tresses and tugging at him. A growl came from his chest as he tugs your clit slightly with his lips. He cleans you with his tongue before raising himself up. Your essence drips down his chin and trickles onto his chest. He licks his lips and meets your gaze again. “You good?” He raises a brow at you. His voice is thick with lust as he hints at what he wants. You knew what he was asking for, the indentations in his voice make it evident. You take a few steady breaths before parting your legs wider and flattening yourself against the mattress. He smirks down at you and cups his hands underneath your upper thighs, slipping you deeper into his web.
“E, fuck…” your mind goes blank as he rubs his tip gently against your core. He pauses for just a moment, checking you over. “You okay baby? You need me to stop?” He looks at you, gaze still heavy but more alert that he was before to your needs. You take the time to peek pass your abdomen and down to his dick. He normally hung low but when he was erect, his soldier stood at full attention. His tip pink with arousal, threatening to leak. “Babydoll?” He asks, stepping back a bit to give you room to breathe. “N-no, I’m okay.” You drag your eyes back up to his face. “You sure?’ He asks again, still standing in his position. “Yes.” Your voice was certain this time. “I’m sure.” You assure him as you lean back again and wait for him to come close. He pauses a moment and then steps closer, gripping his dick and lining it back up with your center. He gives you one more look which you acknowledge with a slight nod, before pressing his length all the way inside of you.
“Ereeeeen.. mmm. Fuckfuckfuck.” You cry out. Your fingers pale against your grip of the sheets as he stretches your pussy out. How the hell did I fall for this again? The thought forced itself into your head. But you already knew the answers. This was nothing new. The up and down cycle. But, emotionally, something has changed. You aren’t sure if it was your lust riddled brain or the ounce of hope left in your heart but this time felt so different. The way he dropped to his knees before you on my porch. The pleading that reached up through his eyes. It seemed as if it was more genuine than you were used to. He poured into you, fucking your anger out of your system. “Oh my GOD, E!” You call out, his thrusting forcing you out of your thoughts and back to reality. “Fuck baby I missed this pussy so much.” He groans as he strokes you deeper. Your moans match his as he brings his body closer, hovering over you and pressing his hand into the headboard behind you. You shift your hips back a small fraction to try and allow yourself a slight breath from the way he was digging into your guts.
“Damn baby, you running from me already? We just getting started.” He jokes, his voice straining. He reaches his left arm and slides it under your hips and yanks you back to him, thrusting forward into your pussy, a bubble of your cum leaks out around him. You scream out to him, nails gripping into his back as he fucks you, crescents carving into his paled skin. “Rennie, please baby.” You cry. “You remember your safe word, yeah babydoll?” He asks as he pulls his hips back, allowing you to breathe. Mango you repeat in your head as you nod at him. “Good fucking girl.” He growls before ramming back into you. Your eyes roll back in your head as you grip the sheets until your knuckles turn white. His emerald gaze finds your amber one as his tips caresses your cervix. “Whose pussy is it babydoll? Who does it belong to?” He whispers through strokes. Your head was clouded with lust. “It’s yours daddy.” You bellow out.
“Fuck, you take daddy’s dick so well. My perfect fucking babydoll. I'm so proud of you.” He works you to another orgasm, your legs start to shake as your walls contract around his dick. Eren slips into your folds so effortlessly, knowing you were slowly crafted to fit his length. His muscles strained as he pleases you, he wanted to hold back. He needed to make sure you got yours even if he didn’t at all. His breathing got deep and choppy and his pace shifted. The strokes slow to a more sensual pace, a stark contrast to the rough hard ones from earlier. Eren’s hips roll into yours, pinpointing that gummy spot in your lower abdomen. If Eren was going to do one thing, it would be please you. He would give you ten orgasms and still coax more from you before he even thought about himself. But you wouldn't let him. Not this time. You are going to make him give you all of him. If he meant what he said on your porch, you would force him to show you.
“Daddy.” You moan. A shiver runs down Eren’s spine at the name, a low gasp breaking through his tightened lips. “Don’t stop, okay?” You beg, your chest rapidly rising and falling. Widened eyes met yours as Eren swallowed the lump in his throat. “Please don’t stop.” You cry out. “Oh fuck.” He moans softly. His strokes continue but at a sloppier and inconsistent pace. “Baby…I- I can’t.” He whimpers, dropping his head into your shoulder. “Please Rennie, I want it baby.” You reach your arms up and pull his chest against yours, your thighs tighten around his waist and you lock your ankles above him. That familiar sense of obsession took over you as you held his body firmly to yours. “I want it baby please. I want you to cum for me.” You plead. He lets out a strangled groan, pressing closer to you, anything to relieve himself of the energy streaking through his bloodstream. “Y/n, baby please. I can’t.” He whispers into your skin. You clench around him, your body still as he sits sheathed inside of you, your throbbing walls massaging his pulsing tip as you breathe in tandem. You give him a moment to steady his breathing but you won’t let him go.
“Do you remember your safe word?” You echo his question from earlier. It takes Eren a moment, brain still fogged from lust. “Huh?” He lets out. “Do you remember your safe word?” You repeat the question. Eren looks you in your eyes, swallowing heavily before giving you a slight nod. “Do you need it?” You ask him. He pauses a moment, contemplating his next move. You waited patiently, your big brown eyes staring into his. He takes another choppy breath before shaking his head no. A sadistic feline smile graces your plump lips as you send him over the edge
“Then cum in this pussy daddy.”
His body shudders on top of yours. “Oh my…Ba-baby, I can’t.” He stuttered. “Of course you can baby. I know you can.” You encourage him. You reposition your feet under your body, pressing them flat against the mattress so that you can grind your hips up towards his body. Eren bites down into his lips, his eyes rolling at the sensation of your bodies pleasing each other once again. “Do I feel good to you baby?” You tease him. He lets out a low guttural moan. “I can’t hear you.” You state, demanding a response from him. “Yes.” he whispers, not wanting to break. He was always the one in control. He was the pleaser, the one to care for you. This was different for him and he wasn’t sure about how far you were willing to go. But he wanted to. For once in his life, he wanted to feel something real and allow himself the luxury of being cared for. But that wouldn’t mean he would give in so easily. But that wouldn’t stop you from trying.
“Are you holding back from me daddy?” You tease him. He shakes his head in response, trying desperately to swallow the lump in his throat as your hips continue to grind against his dick. “It’s your pussy daddy. Take it.” You revel in the way his restraint was crumbling at your words. His composure slips as the transference of dominance shifted from his body to yours. “Fuck me daddy.” Your voice carries through the room. Eren felt himself toppling over the edge, the buildup he was holding back threatening to flood your walls. “Come on. I’ve been a good girl daddy please. I promise.” You sweet talk him. Your gazes meet and he stares down into your glossy eyes, tears slipping out the corners. He never takes the time to really look into to your eyes during sex but this time, he held your gaze like it was the last time he would see it. It was as if something snapped in place. A new level of possession overtook his senses as his eyes darkened.
Eren pulled his arms from your sides, sliding his hands down to your wrists. His long fingers gripped both wrists, pinning them together in a wrist lock above your head. The growl that comes from his body is nothing he’s never experienced before as he begins to stroke faster. “Yes, baby.” You cry out to him, head tossed back in bliss as your manicured toes curls into Cs beneath you. Eren widens his legs so that he can sink lower into the bed and fuck you deeper, aggression increasing with his pace. “Rennie, please—just like that baby. Fuck, you’re in my fucking stomach.” You cry. “Yeah you like that shit huh? You like me fucking you like this?” He asks. “Yes, baby. I love it. Fuck, i love it.” “Shit.” he says. He pounds your pussy without remorse, your eyes travel down his chest to where your bodies were connecting.
Your belly jumping every time his dick made contact. Thick hot spirals of energy light your body on fire as your cheeks flush from the heat. Fuck he’s going to make me cum again. You tense up, the arch in your back expanding but you watch while he continues to stroke you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty babydoll. You taking this dick like a champ baby.” Eren praises you. “Baby, you're going to make me cum. Please.” Your body shakes and convulses under his touch. He grunts, strokes getting heavy. “Fuck Rennie, you’re going to split me in pieces.” You cry out as your body gushes underneath him. You release a noise you never heard before as you feel yourself let go. “Fuck, baby I’m going to nut.” He says as his seed paints the inside of your body. You feel the warmth raising your body temperature. His body convulsed as his dick throbs in your pussy. Damn he feels so fucking good. He sits there breathing heavily, still for a moment as you both process everything that happened.
“You didn't use your safe word.” You state looking up at the ceiling. “Neither did you.” He whispered. He stares down at you as you stare up into bliss. Eren took the time to take you in. Your thick hair fluffed all around your face, face glistening with afterglow, twin toned lips parted slightly as your chest rises and falls. Eren’s heart strummed in his chest. What the fuck. His brows furrowed slightly at the unfamiliar feeling trying to take over him again. You finally turned to meet his gave and his heart nearly jumped into your hands. “You okay Rennie?” You say softly. “Ye-yeah. We should get you cleaned up babydoll.” He smiles at you. “You’re finished already?” You pout. His eyes widened in shock. “You’re not??” You shrug your shoulders at his response. “It’s been a while.” You say shifting your body up. He gets caught off guard for a moment at the intensity of your stare. You smirk, pushing into his chest until he is pressed back onto the bed, your body hovering over his, pussy still dripping with both of your releases. “Babydoll.” His breath quickens, tones hands gripping your waist as he tries to force them to stop shaking.
“Relaaaax. I’m not going to do anything crazy.” You say as you lean down and press your lips to his, savoring in the softness. Your tongue grazes against his lips pulling a soft moan from his mouth into yours. You separate for air, instead trailing kisses across his jaw and up behind his ear. “Fuck…” His hands squeeze you in warning. “Okay, okay. I'm done.” You pull back. “I need food.” You unmount him and slip down the bed, feet pressing into the floor. Your legs shake underneath you and you reach out to steady yourself. “You good babydoll?” He asks coming to sit in front of your standing frame. You nod slightly, trying to get your balance. “I got you princess.” He slips off the mattress and comes up behind you. He leans you back into his arm and the other wraps around the back of your knees, lifting you bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. “Rennie?” You ask. “Hmm?” He responds. “You should apologize more often.” You tease. He laughs out loud, “Yeah, sure. As much as you want babygirl.” He says before prepping your bath.
#aot x reader#smut#aot x y/n#baby daddy eren#fem!reader#eren x reader#eren aot#eren x black reader#aot fluff#eren yeager
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omg not me freaking out that i am part of the group that gets bait gifs! FRIENDS!!!!!!! i'm fine. i'm chill. don't leave me!
This took me a minute to figure out what I wanted Sir Dorksalot to have done that was sketchy enough to have him make this face...
Watch The Fish, Jake Jensen x reader headcanon wholeass fic in bullet format because my god this got long
Warnings for mentions of masturbation and porn, accidental then totally intentional voyeurism, awkward and oblivious!Jake--so just Jake, yeah?--and smutty implications...
🥹 roommates to lovers 😊
you rent a pretty large house maybe even with one or two others at first, but they move out
jake has to use it as a crashpad sometimes because he'll be away for so long at a time, but he pays rent and the entire electrical & internet bill no matter what
you keep a fish tank in the living room
after jake comes back from months in hiding abroad away, he gets so excited to be home and spend time with his niece that he hosts an after-game pizza party for her soccer team
someone practices headbutting the ball inside and nearly topples the tank
jake catches the whole thing with his broad arm-span and a decent amount of strength just in time when it wobbles the whole table beneath it. his heart nearly stopped, and he's so grateful the glass didn't break. thank god you weren't home.
however, you insist on moving the fish to your room instead once he tells you.
jake's a little sad to see them go. he pouts so much you decide to take pity on him, buying a web cam to mount beside the tank so jake can watch them whenever he wants. he loves to do voices for each one, personalities, soap-opera-like dramatic storylines, the works
as an aside you ask him if the sound can be turned off on the camera. jake says yeah but he mostly means he can turn it to mute on his computer.
which he does, for the record, but he has to remember to do it each time he pulls up the feed of da fishies. honestly, half the time he's wearing headphones and the other half you aren't home while he puts the Marauders (because there's just one fat one) onto his third monitor for background.
so he forgets that the sound is on and a thing he might need to avoid
weeks later, maybe months, jake finally removes his headphones after a very long stint of coding, completely unaware of what time it is and that you are home in your room
at first, jake is dead convinced that some porn ad has popped up in a window behind his work, something he would go apeshit about and ransomware bomb the shit out of whoever wrote such slippery spam
the fish are peaceful as ever, blooping away whilst jake frantically closes program after program trying to find the hot chick moaning on his desktop...until it's all closed and the buzzing remains though his tower's fan stopped...then the squelching noise starts
jake is frozen in place, looking away from the fish like they're the damn problem, but he doesn't cut the feed
he...he shouldn't
he should turn it off or just mute it like he promised
and he tries
he tries really hard, gang
it's the cursor's fault that it hits the command to send the audio to his bluetooth headphones instead of mute
and he sets the headphones down on the keyboard, gnawing on his bottom lip and watching his closed bedroom door in anticipation of...getting caught, maybe? he's not sure
he watches the fish putter around like it's no big deal
which it isn't, right?
you're human. he's human. humans have urges. they touch themselves--they touch each other, too--and there's no harm in that. if anything...jake encourages it, or he would...if you knew that he knew about this
the noises are so faint from the itty bitty speakers two feet from his face, but he doesn't pick them up, still debating what to do
because there's a big difference between what jake should do in this situation and what he wants to do
he mutes audio and then cuts off the livestream
at least, that's what he did the first time it happened
he knows he's a perv. jake can't help it.
it becomes a game of sorts. it's like practice recon for learning a target's routine. not that jake needs practice at the job he already fucking has but that's how his brain justifies laying on his own bed in the glow of the fish tank feed with his headphones turned way up
he knows your bed is on the other side of your room from when he moved the fish tank in
he knows what your underwear look like from the laundry room downstairs
he knows what you smell like from the shared bathroom and the products lining your shelf
he now knows there's a bottle of toy cleaner in one of your sink drawers
and he shouldn't but he absolutely touches himself listening to you, fists himself when you're fucking a toy he imagines six-shapes-to-Sunday, teases himself when all you're doing is breathing softly from across the whole house and he's cold and covered in cum by the end
to be fair, jake hates himself because of all this, but he is now mildly addicted
he doesn't even exit out of the livestream anymore. it just stays up on his monitor like a screensaver, but he doesn't realize that once he takes his headphones out of range, the audio transfers to his speakers again
so jake goes on a mission for a few days, and at some point while you are cleaning up your room, playing music, you find two pairs of jake's socks in your load of clean laundry and go to toss them in his room...where the same music you're listening to way down the hall is playing...in sync...
you're horrified and then embarrassed and then quickly realized it might mean nothing
you have to test if it means something
jake returns from his mission on complete autopilot
just so damn tired
throws down his duffle on top of some socks he doesn't remember leaving out and just hits the shower for a long, long time
he hasn't talked to you yet
he hasn't even seen you except your car is home and your door is shut
he goes about his business
the volume on his speakers isn't high but he hears you speaking and assumes you're on the phone
he pays it no mind. he is glad to be home, glad you're fine since he's just been in a part of the world where most people are not safe.
in a weird sort of way, he feels he's earned the mundane sort of comfort that comes from "the same ol'" of this house
he's wiped out, so he crawls into bed with his headphones immediately, hair barely toweled dry, not bothering with boxers because...why make more laundry?
and then the worst thing happens
there's a man's voice coming through his headphones, and jake scowls in frustration and rage
did you go and get a fucking boyfriend? in a couple of days? or goddamnit is this some tinder shit in his home right now?
but it only gets worse
he can hardly contain himself, what with the gagging sounds and this dude telling you to take it like the whore you are, and JAKE WILL LITERALLY BURN THIS PLACE DOWN
now his ass is putting on clothes
now his ass is ready to riot
the sex gets more and more degrading; spanking noises and even choking, but not in a seemingly consensual way, which is when jake rips his headphones off, storms down the hall and barrels straight through your bedroom door
where...you...aren't
no one is. no you. no man.
just your laptop sitting on your desk near the fish tank, playing the money shot of a porn video he was just listening to
get the fuck out. get out. get out. his brain screams, and he bolts
he makes it three feet before stopping short
you're standing at the top of the stairs, a bowl of ice cream in hand, licking the spoon unbelievably slowly with your whole tongue
you're fucked. you're fucked. you're fucked. his brain adds helpfully.
"hey, jakey," you say with a smile. "whatcha doing?"
A/N: this cat is officially my reaction to pretty much everything because...well...it's very accurate.
[Main Masterlist; Jake Jensen Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
THERE'S A SEQUEL!
#ro answers#jake jensen smut#jake jensen fanfiction#jake jensen x reader#jake jensen x you#jake jensen fic#essie what have you done????
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Okay but could u write something fluffy with soap. Tbh I feel like he'd be the best friend to lovers kinda thing.
AND YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT i love friends to lovers so much guys u don't understand :(
also, i realize now that this isn't super fluff-heavy!! apologies </3 i got carried away.
johnny "soap" mactavish x gn!reader
warnings: horrid scottish slang from a non-scot (i am sincerely sorry), my writing from 2 am on three hours of sleep (also sincerely sorry)
-
-best friend to lovers with soap except there wasn't really a specific moment you two become each other's. it just... kind of happened.
-growing up with him and supporting his dreams to be a soldier while he supported yours. the first time he came back from a mission, you were the first person he wanted to see once he was allowed back home.
-you used to fuss over any injuries he got from being himself as a little kid, and the worry only heightened when he'd come back from missions with real wounds.
-his mom would always have a cheeky smile seeing you two together. she never said it, but it was always hinted in the way she acted. she was always talking to johnny about how you were such an impressive and loyal young person, often doting on you and insisting you stay for dinner (which, of course, you couldn't refuse).
-the first time johnny started dating someone, it was hard for you to deal with, but it got easier the more it happened.
-what you didn't know was johnny would take it even worse whenever you told him you started dating someone. he'd act all proud and protective in a brotherly fashion, but behind closed doors he was scowling to himself without knowing why.
-one day, you're visiting him in his apartment after he had been away for a few months. you're strangely more subdued than usual, and of course he notices.
-"hey," he calls to you softly, a strange contrast to his usual loud self. "what's wrong?"
-"nothing, don't worry about it," you reassure him, fiddling with the little plushie he got you from his travels--one of the many trinkets he's gotten for you. he always says it's to make up for the fact that he won't be there to bother you in person, but it's actually because every precious little thing he sees reminds him of you.
-"ah ken you're lying," he tells you in a warning tone.
-"i got broken up with, is all," you admit, turning your head away from him.
-"what?" he booms incredulously. how could anyone leave you? "is he insane? after getting an apartment together?"
-"there was this girl from his work and, well, i don't know," you shrugged, fighting back the tears you thought had dried days ago. "he wants the apartment. i mean, he did pay for more of it so-"
-"come live with me."
-it was your turn to be in disbelief, turning your head to face him with a confused look on your face.
-"what?"
-"th' place is empty with me at work. no rent, 's away from yer stupid ex, and ye get to be around me," he added jokingly. you rolled your eyes, but how could you not take him up on his offer?
-from then on, you're living with your best friend and taking care of the place while he's away. if you're staying rent-free, the least you could do was try and be as neat as possible (he insisted it was okay with the place looked like it was lived in, but you refused).
-when he'd come back from his missions, he'd still shower you in little gifts he'd get along the way when possible. you always tried to have some kind of meal ready for him, too.
-"you're always cooking for us, a'm feeling like i should do it sometime," he says, already knowing the answer to that proposal.
-"absolutely not." (the one time you let him cook was when you were both in college. he caught a pan on fire, somehow.)
-"you hurt me!"
-"oh, please."
-eventually, the routine becomes more and more domestic to the two of you. soap's mother always calls out how you two are living like a married couple, but the both of you just laugh it off like neither of you have noticed.
-you eventually notice changes in johnny's gifts. it went from gag gifts and plushies to little pieces of jewelry or intricate pens. sometimes you even think you catch him staring at you, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. he hasn't mentioned being interested in anyone in a while, either.
-it all comes to a head when johnny doesn't come home the day he said he would. sure, it happened at times, but this was the longest amount of time he's been late.
-eventually, he finally walks through the door with too many injuries, a bruise on his lip, and walking with a rough limp.
-you tend to him immediately, of course, interrogating him on what his doctor told him he should do to take care of his healing wounds. the rest of the night goes just like how the others have gone, with you making sure he's fed, warm, and resting.
-by the time you're closing his window for him, you're absolutely exhausted. you had barely gotten any sleep because of johnny's delayed return. normally, you would've let him do more for himself, but the extent of his injuries was worrying you.
-"ye ken am alright, aye?" he asks you in that low, rich voice, searching your eyes for something other than worry and sleepiness. he's sitting up in his bed by the time you walk back to him (despite the fact that you told him to lay down).
-"you're injured. you came home late."
-"what? ye have no faith in me?" he mocks hurt, trying to put a smile on your face or at least get an exhale of amusement out of you, but you weren't in the mood. he could tell by the way you didn't respond and the permanent but subtle frown on your face.
-"i know you're good at your job, johnny," you finally say, ready to call it a night.
-"good. then ye know i'll always come back home to ye, aye?"
-you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, too tired to overthink about what he just said.
-"come here," he orders quietly, reaching out to you.
-gently, he coaxes you into laying next to him. the last time you ever slept in the same bed as johnny was when you two were kids. you were having a sleepover at his house with you in his bed and him on a spare mattress. you had a nightmare so bad it woke johnny up, but instead of brushing it off and making a joke of it, he jumped into bed with you and hugged you protectively. he said it was a good way to train for becoming a soldier, and you couldn't help but snort with laughter.
-just like back then, you had an easy time falling asleep in his arms, now.
-you woke up that morning well-rested and still encased in johnny's arms, which was impressive considering the fact that most times he sleeps in a position that looks like he flung himself across the bed.
-when he wakes up, you sit up with the intention getting breakfast up and running, but johnny doesn't like that idea.
-"johnny, it's almost eleven. we have to eat something," you chide, trying to get out of his impossibly strong grasp.
-"ye get all sad when am gone but yer trying to leave, now?"
-"well, i suppose if you're well enough to joke, you're well enough to clean the rest of the house and cook, yeah?"
-he lets go of you immediately in a comical fashion, and you have to catch yourself as you hurl out of bed from the built momentum of your escape. you look back at him with a seriously? look on your face as he laughs at your near fall.
-"doesn't that hurt?" you question him, remembering the bruise and cut near his lips and throat.
-"maybe a little," he admits. "kiss it better?"
-the grin on his face makes you think he was setting you up for that one. how could he be so confident?
-just like the times when his mother called you two a married couple, you laughed it off and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.
-that wasn't the only time johnny's behavior changed noticeably. now, his longing stares at you were more blatant than ever. he'd hold you by the waist if he was moving past you and even told someone flirting with him "oh, i've got someone at home," while he was on call with you on the other end.
-what more could you do than accept it? it wasn't like you didn't like it, anyway.
-one night, you're both in the dining room with you standing and him sitting down on a chair. his hands are on your waist with his legs on either side of you as you reapply a band-aid to his temple (something he could very well do on his own, but any excuse to be close to you, right?).
-as you finish putting it on, your attention draws itself to his lip nearly healed. gently ghosting your finger across the barely visible bruise, you murmur, "good to see this one's basically healed."
-"awe, but it isn't," he corrects you, a slight pout on his face.
-"it isn't?"
-"no, still hurts like hell." you should've seen this one coming. "kiss it better?"
-"that's the second time you've asked me," you were rolling your eyes as you withdrew your hand from his face, but he caught your hand in his.
-"am being serious, (n/n), only a kiss'll make it better," he insists, that damn smile back on his face.
-you couldn't help but wonder if he was actually being serious or just pulling your leg.
-"how could you be so sure?" you challenged him.
-"seen it in ma dreams." oh, that was a funny one.
-"you dream about kissing people to heal your wounds?" you ask through the remnants of your laughter, but he's still looking at you with that same far-off smile on his face.
-"no, just of you."
-there's a pause between the two of you as you process what he said.
-"oh."
-he squeezes your hand with an expectant look in his eyes, like he knew you were head over heels just as much as he was for you.
-you cleared your throat and tried to ignore the searing burning in your cheeks. "well, i guess if you dreamt it, it must be true," you tell him.
-he places his unoccupied hand under your chin and guides your face to his, but he doesn't close the gap. it was like he was waiting--making sure you really wanted to go through with this.
-but you do, so you press your lips to his and he lets go of your face to put his palm on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer toward him.
-later that night, when you're back in his arms watching your guys' favorite show and he's calling his mother to tell her the news, you can hear her shrieks of excitement coming through the phone.
-the only thing you don't hear is when she asks, "when's th' wedding?"
-"soon, hopefully," he looks at you leaning against him, head pressed against his shoulder and arm clinging to his like it was meant to be. "but there's no rush. a've waited this long, aye?"
#call of duty imagine#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#cod imagine#call of duty x you#soap x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x you#johnny mactavish imagine#johnny soap mactavish imagine#soap imagine#cod mw x reader#soap x y/n#johnny mactavish x y/n#rarawrites
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If you’re not taking requests then just ignore me! But could you maybe write something for Soap and Ghost both wanting the same girl and she opts to not choose 🥰 I’m dying to read your smutty take on this
I'm like chowing down on your brain right now this is so scrumdiddyumyum 🎀
nsfw ⭐️ mdni
Johnny wanted you first. The, moment you hopped down from the helo and into his life, he wanted you. Everything about the way your eyes glittered in the early spring sunlight to the way your errant baby hairs practically begged for him to sweep them back behind your ears, everything about you. You'd been called in as a temporary spotter for a few missions, but he earnestly, foolishly hoped you'd stick around. Just for a little while.
He'd also foolishly hoped that he'd be the only one to want you. In the beginning, he thought he was.
But of course, fucking Simon had to ruin everything. Of course.
He has a tendency to not realise what an Adonis he is, with his towering six foot frame and muscles for days, no, weeks. Simon, and his innate ability to have every woman in the same room simpering.
He'd noticed the switch in a debrief. Normally cold, callous Simon guiding you through the door with a hand on the small of your back, pulling out your chair for you with such cool, casual confidence.
Normally such an action would mean nothing. Nothing would change between them or the team. They'd never liked the same types or gone for the same women. You, unfortunately, were a perfect blend of the things they both absolutely adored. Just chirpy enough to keep up with Johnny's boisterous personality, mellow enough to relax with Simon. You were just bratty enough to give Johnny the fight he fight he always craved, submissive enough to know when Simon wanted you to stay in line.
You were dangerously perfect.
You also had a tendency to come in early in the mornings.
Like your teammates.
More specifically, Johnny and Simon, that is.
Simon always came in early after the gym, to not only get to the teabags first, but also settle into his morning work routine before the others arrived.
Johnny would in as early as possible to try and get the first appointment with the physio whenever she dropped in.
For you, it had actually been a one off. You'd left your charger in the common room yesterday, and wanted to make sure your laptop wasn't dead for briefing minutes.
The quiet arguing begins the common room door had been unexpected to say the least.
Johnny's delicious brogue grew thicker as your ear pressed to the door, eyebrows furrowing as you attempted to gain an understanding of their conversation.
" - cannae understand why you won't jus' leave her alone."
"She seems perfectly fine with my attention."
Simon drawled back, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't have your knees weak with the thought alone.
In your not-yet-eight-AM delirium, you'd barely even registered that the door wasn't all the way closed. Until you'd barrelled into it. With your full body weight.
The string of colourful expletives which passed through your lips as you went crashing into the threadbare rug had been enough to snap Johnny and Simon from their boyish row.
"Speak of the devil." The amusement dripping from Simon's voice had you cringing.
"Laptop? I -" You'd barely managed to stammer before Johnny had you back up on your feet, a concerned look on his face as he went to pick up your (thankfully) unscathed laptop.
"Didnae realise you were one to eavesdrop, hen."
Johnny cooed into your ear, a wonderfully warm hand gripping your chin to tilt your head this way and that, making sure you'd not been hurt by your fall.
"Might as well tell her whilst she's here, hm?" Coaxed Simon as you were guided to the squishy old couch in the middle of the room.
"Tell me?"
"Ask you, really." Simon again, with an indifferent shrug.
"We're - we both like ye a lot, hen." Johnny wouldn't dare crowd your space, no matter how strong the urge to reach for your hand, give it an encouraging squeeze.
"I like you too?" You'd vaguely heard yourself mumble, although the sound seemed so disjointed - foggy as you sunk into the depths of your feelings for both men. Equally.
"I like you both, too." Both men nodded as you reiterated what they'd suspected.
"No problem with that." Johnny encouraged, seeing your slightly flustered look, skittish and edgy, having been thrown into such a situation unwillingly, and this early in the morning.
"It's twenty-twenty-four. Definitely no the weirdest shite I've seen happening."
"Like - sharing?" You stammered awkwardly, gaze flickering between Simon's understanding one, and Johnny's eager blues.
"S'pose we could give it a try." Simons gruff voice filled the room, tamping down the anxiety bubbling away in your tummy.
"Would you -?" You'd pointed a finger between the two of them, wordlessly indicating the direction of your question, without having to actually speak it.
"For now? No." Simon seemed to have, surprisingly, already thought the entire thing through. Always two steps ahead.
"But we don't mind sharing, so long as yer comfortable with that, hen."
And now, not even a month later, you're sat in the backseat of Simon's car, lips locked with Johnny's in a fervent kiss, your hand stroking eagerly around his shaft, whilst Simon's fingers curl up against the velvety walls of your pussy, his nose bumping the base of your jaw as he nips and sucks at your neck.
You've found that Simon barely needs to be touched to cum, perfectly contented to touch you and taste you until he finishes still straining at his jeans, whilst Johnny is far more hands-on, needs your help, to know you're there. That it's you and no one else.
The two of them are actually getting on surprisingly well in the confines of your relationship, too. The jealousy still rears its ugly head occasionally, but the two men are perfectly happy to push that aside and work together. Especially if it means hearing your pretty moans stifled by Johnny's lips as you cum on Simon's fingers.
I took like four melatonin before writing this, so sorry if it's nonsensical in parts!! It's also like not actually that smutty but!! Oh well!!
#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod#simon riley cod#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x f!reader#john soap mactavish#John soap mactavish x reader#John soap mactavish x f!reader#soapghost#poly 141#ghost x reader x soap#ghost smut#soap smut#angies asks!
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More Cyberknight AU sketches... I can already tell I'll have to do something with this universe, considering how much I'm thinking about the world building, plot, characters...
Speaking of world building, gonna write down some of it under the cut, if anyone's interested... (it turned out to be....... a lot..............)
Alright, so obviously there's a lot of influence of medieval knight armor, so my first line of thought was adding some sort of magic system. Initially I was like "well, can't use the magic system I have in my original stories, since Revenant AU is based on that, and if I do that again it would be way too similar". I considered scrapping magic off this AU completely, because I didn't think I could make a magic system different enough from rev AU to not be just the same thing but To The Left. And then it hit me.
COD already has a magic system. In Zombies.
Now, the Aether is not really treated as magic, more like scientific phenomena, but it's practically magic, taking to account the field upgrades, and its effect on living being (zombies, and special zombies like manglers, mimics, disciples...).
And the moment I thought about that, everything started clicking together.
Picture this, post apocalyptic world. Operation Deadbolt failed, and the Aether spread from Urzikstan to the rest of the world. Decades later, humanity found ways to ward it off, leaving swaths of land infected with the Aether, quarantined away from the remaining human cities.
This quarantine isn't perfect, however, and certain Aether forms threaten the delicate peace on the cities. This is where the Cyberknights come in.
Using Aether portals (the ones in-game), they teleport deep into Aether territory, and with motorcycles traverse the land, tracking big Aether forms that pose a big enough threat.
Scientists have found ways to build weapons made of Aether. The more in the metal, the better, so guns were now dwarfed by the power of swords and spears. These new weapons use the Aether of fallen enemies as a power source, for charging a powerful attack (in-game they're called Field Upgrades, and I'm giving them a lore explanation as to why it takes a while to charge them, and why it charges by killing zombies).
There are a few types of Aether forms: Aether-Mechanical (think the Manglers from the game), native Aether forms (Disciples, mimics, Aether worm), and infected Aether forms (humans turned zombies). Because of that, each unit must include at least one of each: a mechanic (in charge of equipment, and the mechanical nature of Aether-Mechanical forms), an Aether expert (for teleporters, and Aether forms in general) and a fighter (acting as sort of a tank as the others work).
I also thought a bit about the 141's weapons and field upgrades, so here's a little blurb on each:
Soap - Wields 2 short swords, the right with Cryo Freeze (Ammo Mod in-game), and the left with Napalm Burst. Field Upgrade is Frenzied Guard: Killing zombies grants a shield, but all hostiles are attracted to Soap once he turns it on. This Field Upgrade is usually reserved for fighters, which Soap used to be, but he's now acting as a mechanic for the 141 unit.
The blue and red in his design are for his ammo mods, ice and fire, and the helmet obviously resembles his hairstyle. Originally I went for something more Scottish, but it didn't look exactly like I imagined (Scottish warriors were notorious for not wearing a lot of armor, and they kinda scared other cultures, sometimes carrying the head of their enemies to intimidate others. So metal haha).
Gaz - Wields a spear, that uses Aether as a sort of magnetic force, meaning he can throw it and pull it back. Field Upgrade is Energy Blast: turning it on will create a force field around him, pushing and injuring anyone attempting to get close to him (this is a modified version of the Energy Mine in MWZ, just thought I can make it more interesting).
The purple on his belt are Aether crystals, as he's the 141's Aether expert. The "horns" on his helmet are actually a detector of Aether forms (and they're there to look cool).
Price - Wields a foldable shield, and a short sword, with Brain Rot applied to it (Brain Rot will make a zombie turn to your side for a short while, attacking hostiles for a few moments before their head explodes). Field Upgrade is Healing Aura, which will... heal everyone around him, obviously. Price is the fighter of the 141.
Price is nicknamed "The White Knight", as a well known fighter with a long history of felled Aether superforms. The piece on his right arm (his right), is his shield in folded form.
G.H.O.S.T. is a robot, powered by Aether, the first of his kind. This means he uses 2 Field Upgrades: Aether Shroud, making him go invisible for a short while, and Tesla Storm, which channels bolts of electricity through his body and his teammates', as well as his knives, so he makes sure to throw them in tactical positions before activating this. The electricity doesn't hurt his teammates, their armor makes sure of that, but it will kill lower Aether lifeforms, and damage the stronger ones. G.H.O.S.T. is the secondary fighter of the 141.
G.H.O.S.T. - Wields several knives, that use a similar technology to Gaz's spear, meaning he can pull them back at will.
[Edit: forgot to mention that the things sticking out of his forearms are his knives]
His design is based on the "Gilded Ghost" skin in-game, without the gilded part lol. The purple parts are the Aether powering his mechanical body.
For the story, I have something planned... but I don't wanna spoil you lmao. I was thinking a lot about Soap, who (if I make a fic which lets be honest I probably will) will be the POV.
Soap joins the 141 mainly as a mechanic. Each unit has a fighter, a mechanic, and an Aether expert. Gaz is the Aether expert, and Price is the fighter, G.H.O.S.T. acting as a support for Soap when the unit splits up. Soap comes from the northern territories, so he's very different from the rest in terms of his background, basically an outsider. He used to be a fighter, but a knee injury forced him to change positions. All members of a unit can fight, but it's not their main job, bar the fighter of course. He feels bitter about that.
He finds in G.H.O.S.T. an odd companionship, considering the robot can't feel. His AI is exceptionally advanced, so he does talk unnervingly, almost like a human. Soap often just rants, talking about his home city, about the life he used to have, and G.H.O.S.T. listens with no complaints, not that a robot can really complain.
It all changed on one fateful deployment, where Soap and G.H.O.S.T. get separated from the rest, and Soap finds the truth behind G.H.O.S.T.'s technology...
That's all I'm gonna leave you with for now, haha. As you can probably tell, I spent a lot of time playing Zombies in MW3 (idk I just find it a good way to relax), so I really enjoy trying to think of explanations for each mechanic, and how the world would look like 50 years in the future.
#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod mw2#cod soap#cod ghost#cod gaz#cod price#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick#john price#cyberknights au#cod zombies#cod mwz#cod fanart
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Gaz & his Love (Part one?)
The '141' stops as soon as they are back home. After that, they are just close friends. Simon, John, Kyle and Johnny had managed to settle down and find themselves sweet little things. All who adore their brave men and all who share different tastes
In this 'series', it's essentially bits of each of the 141 one and their kinks they have with their partners. With that being said, I don't really care if you think that Soap is submissive or Ghost is into CNC/Primal play. That's great. But in this fantasy, this is what it is. It's what I wanted to write. If you want Kyle Garrick to be a pleasure Dom and John to be a Daddy Dom. Cool. Go find other fictions that write that, or be the one to write them. I'm not going to argue about what kinks they would really have.
CW: NSFW. Edging. Use of chastity belt. Spanking. Mentions of figging. D/s dynamics. Self-deprication. Aftercare. Impact play.
4.5 k words.
Not proof-read
The downside of having a Dom with a huge dick is that he was stingy with it. Thus making him a huge dick. And when it became very apparent that you lacked any self control and restraint from touching your greedy little pussy, Kyle had found that edging you was the best form of punishment, if not just to push your limits.
He wouldn't necessarily call himself a sadist. The moment you started to cry (at least outside of the bedroom) he was quick to remedy the situation. The term brat tamer didn't sit right with either of you. You didn't like the idea of having to be tamed and Kyle liked, loved, that you could be, well, you.
But that didn't mean he didn't like setting you a little more straight. Making sure you stuck to your goals. Showed yourself the same kindess you insisted others be given. And most importantly, helping you remember that iced coffee does not count as a meal; an issue that is a reoccurring struggle.
Although Kyle did not like hurting you, he loved making you squirm. Edging, teasing. Making you cum so many times that you had to beg him to stop. Eventually he would.
You were ovulating and you tried to usually use that as an excuse to convince Kyle to let you have free reign over your orgasms. But you both knew that if he gave you an inch, you would take a yard. You would be chasing that euphoria all fucking day and you both shit you needed to get done.
He had went out on a quick errand, promising to be home at 6 and then the two of you could head out for dinner. He had gotten back earlier than expected and imagine the surprise he walked into when he came back home earlier than expected.
When he had found you rubbing yourself, legs spread without a care in the world, he practically beamed. You knew the rules and you broke them. He knew that the penance he had lined up would break you and he couldn't wait to be the one to help put you back together.
You had given a half ass apology when you first realized he was standing in the doorway of your bedroom. His eyes looking at you as if he were just waiting to eat you alive. You had expected anger or, at the least, a bit of irritation. As he stood there, saying nothing you took the initiative and offered to bend over, making his life a bit easier. You did have your moments where you did like being good for him.
But instead, he ordered you to stay on your back. Slowly walking to you. The sound of your heartbeat filling your head. He reached at the posts of the bed, pulling at the restraints that he always kept there just in case the moment arose where you needed a bit of… correcting.
He was tender as he wrapped the cuffs around your wrists and ankles. Adjusting the straps so you have very little movement. You have expected him to flip him on your belly so he could spend the next hours spanking your poor ass raw.
But given that the punishment needed to fit the punishment, you assumed it would be a night of bringing you to the brink of release only to deny you. You thought you knew what was in store.
But fuck were you wrong.
Once he had you exactly how he wanted, barely able to move, he stood. Staring only for a moment before making his way out of the bedroom.
He left you there, giving you a chance to guess how many times he would edge you until he finally felt like you had learned your lesson. And even then, the bastard still wouldn't let you come.
The sound of his approaching footsteps made your heart race.
He came back in with a box in hand. No markings or anything noteworthy. Just a plain cardboard box. With curious eyes, you practically burned a whole through it, trying to figure out what exactly could it be.
Too small to be a sybian or a fucking machine. You already had a decent sized collection of toys and paddles… Before you could keep guessing, he set in on the floor, just out of view before going to your dressers.
Smoothly, he pulled off his t-shirt leaving him only in a pair of jeans that hugged him perfectly. Kyle didn't say anything as he pulled out a Hitachi wand, some clamps, a dildo and a roll of duct tape.
Fuck. This was already going to be a long night.
Not taking his eyes off you, he made his way back on the bed pulling out something you hadn't noticed before. Your gaze zeroed in on the malicious object. A tool that Kyle knew you had a terrible familiarity with.
A simple and standard clear plastic ruler.
Dammit.
Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.
It was more delicate than a paddle so Kyle had no qualms about using it on your pussy and with you were spread out with not even enough wiggle room to block him with your thighs. The precision made it so he could hit your clit directly. Every. Single. Time.
Couldn't get that kind of a precision with a flogger. One time when you
Immediately, he sensed your apprehension. Saw the sudden unease in your eyes. Kyle knew that you didn’t like being punished as much as you liked the release you got from it. There were some punishments that were completely off the table, personal hard limits for both you and him. But then there were some, like hitting and slapping your pussy that blurred the edges of what you could stand and what you couldn’t.
And although he loved bringing you to tears, the thing that made him get off was the fact that you wanted this as much as he did. You trusted him to not take things too far and dish out punishments that fit the infraction. Having your mouth gagged for extended periods when you smart off at him. Getting bent over his knee after being a little pain in the ass. And in this instance, torturing your pussy because you couldn’t keep your hands off her.
"You know your safe words and cues?" He asked, wanting to remind you could stop this at any time. You looked up at him, momentarily forgetting the intimidating instrument of torture he so casually held in his hand. His eyes cast over you hungrily. An absolute vision.
"Yes, Sir." He tried not to smile as he sensed the tremble in your usually steady voice. He liked you scared, hell even fighting against it. But he needed your consent. He needed to know that in that moment, you were relying on him to do what he knew what was best. You needed to let him take control and give everything to him.
"I don't think I need to remind you that during your punishments, you're not allowed to cum." He said twirling the ruler slowly, now wanting to taunt you.
Fuck.
You couldn’t look at it. It was like getting a shot. If you weren’t looking, it didn’t hurt as bad, right? "No, Sir." You swallowed, eyes staring at the ceiling.
Now that wouldn’t do. He thought. He needed your attention. Plus unless he had you blindfolded you or specified otherwise, you knew that during a scene you were to look at him when you answered him.
You hissed as the piece of plastic landed on your inner thigh.
"Eyes on me." He ordered. You obeyed already shifting from his brat to his good girl. He hid his smile. It was hard when you started to get into your sub space to refrain from breaking you down too quickly. Kyle enjoyed the aftercare as much as he did taming you, but going about it too quickly wouldn’t help the lesson stick; a lesson you were in desperate need of learning.
“We’re going to start off with twenty.” You wanted to argue, but you had practically asked for it. How could you not remember to at least lock the door? You nod, too afraid to speak, your hands gripping onto the restraints to help ground you. "Count." Was his only response as the first swat came.
You hissed at the sinister slapping sound and the sting of pain that followed. "One." You breathed out taking a deep breathe in before the next one came.
"Two." Your voice rushed out. Two. You were only at two. Again. Deep breath.
smack
"Three." You squeaked. Another breath. smack. "Four!"
Kyle didn't know where he wanted to look the most.
At your face. Your eyes squinting and closing tightly at his lashing. At your tits. How your nipples had already started to pebble. Maybe he should take the ruler to those next...
But he had to keep his focus on your pussy. With each swat the clear ruler had come back with a little bit more of your juice. This was making you wet. You would never admit it and you didn't have to, but both of you knew that this turned you on. Being able to give up control, even for a moment. Having to let go was hard. But Kyle was the only person you could trust without micromanaging.
By the time you got to twenty, the tears that had pooled in your eyes had fallen. If he could have a painting commission for that very sight, he would have paid anything to have it. Instead, he had to settle on burning the image in his mind forever.
"Good girl." His praise was meant to mock you and acknowledge that he was satisfied with how you took your punishment.
"Are we not done?" You asked.
"Oh no, Love." He said picking up one of the clamps. "That was just for breaking the no-touching rule." He leaned over your body, taking a nipple in your mouth. You gasped. Your back arching into his touch. Wanting more. Needing more.
He flicked his tongue, faster and faster before suckling hard and releasing you with a pop. Before you could open your eyes, you felt the pinch from the clamp. No warning.
"Fuck!" You squirmed. Opening your eyes only to shoot daggers at Kyle, who was now straddling your waist with a smile playing on his lips.
"Onto the next one?" He asked, but you didn't entertain him with an answer. He took your other nipple in his mouth. Repeating the same motions that you yet again fell for. Trying to fight the need to arch your back. To hum as his tongue and your body worked against you.
Another pinch came. Even with the knowledge that it was coming it still hurt like an absolute bitch.
He got off of you only to crawl toward that delicate place between your thighs. You were dripping onto the bed. It took everything, every ounce of self control Kyle had to refrain from swiping his tongue up your folds. He could make a day out of eating you out until you cried and begged for mercy. He had done it before even if it took you almost 45 minutes before tapping out.
But when you saw him pick up another clip and his hand drawing closer to your exposed pussy you're first instinct was to call out yellow. He saw your recoil and stopped. His eyes met yours, searching for an answer. You both knew the ball was in your court. But it didn't feel like... enough?
"Green." You put your head back down against the pillow, waiting for the sharp sting. Instead it was just a gradual pressure. Slowly building instead of an instant pinch. Then another. And another. And another. It wasn't until you heard the harsh ripping of tape before you looked down to see what your boyfriend was doing.
He had put four clothes pins on your labia major, two on each side. The piece of tape he had just ripped with his teeth was used to hold the clamps against your leg. You didn't speak. Neither of you making eye contact as he continued to the other side until you were left fully exposed.
He sat back on his ankles, looking down and admiring your pussy as if it were artwork and he was the dedicated artist. "Mind if I take a picture for later?" He asked, his tone softening. "Something to think about when I'm on a mission." He gave a cheeky wink, but let you know in his voice that you could say no. Pictures and videos had always been a sore subject for you, but you had sent some here and there, although he had never prompted you before, even after all this time.
"Yes." You said. "But can it just not have my face?" The same request as always. You trusted Kyle, but there was always that what if possibility.
What if his phone got hacked?
What if someone got ahold of his phone or he was innocently trying to show one of his collegues a picture and then BAM, there's your pussy?
"Of course, Love." He said, pulling his phone from his back pocket before taking a few pictures. Without you asking, he turned the screen around. His fingers swiping through the photos to let you see your glistening, spread cunt. Just your cunt. Not your face. No identifying marks. "Look how pretty she is." Kyle's coo of approval made your stomach flutter.
Without any other remarks, he returned his phone back into his pocket and kneeled between your legs, resting on his own. "How many times did you come?" He asked. Although you frequently disobeyed Kyle, you never lied.
"I didn't." You shamefully admitted. "I just couldn't get there."
He hummed as if contemplating his next course of action. "Well then," he said. He grabbed a pillow near your head that you weren't using. Putting it in the space between your knees before lowering his body onto it. His mouth was hovering above your pussy. "Let's make up for that then."
The bastard had grabbed the pillow to make himself comfortable.
Fuck.
You were going to be here a while.
Eight. He had pulled eight orgasms out of you. He had switched things up between each one. Sometimes one finger before adding another and then a third. Using the dildo. But his mouth never left you and he never let up. Each one was as intense, if not more, than the last. You were crying by number four, but still hadn't begged him to stop.
But he was damned and determined to get you there.
You still hadn't by number twelve. You couldn't. Not from sheer stubbornness, but you simply couldn't. It was all too much. It was hurting at that point, but a new feeling, a heaviness consumed you. Your tongue was too heavy in your mouth. Your stomach was flipping, tightening its self into a little ball.
You weren't sure if you were hot or cold anymore, but you were certain that at any moment you were going to be sick. You were approaching number thirteen, feeling something more than just an orgasm threatening to escape you. You were going to throw up.
“K- Ky?” You stammered, forgetting your words. What was your safe word again?
“What’s your color?" He asked, pulling away from you for the first time in almost an hour.
“I-” you didn’t know. You didn’t want to tap out. You had disobeyed, this was the punishment. Kyle had never took things too far. You didn’t decide when this was done. He did. “I need a minute.”
Your head fell against the pillow. Closing your eyes, you try to breathe slowly through your nose. The wave of nausea didn't pass as your heart continued to beat so violently you head practically pulsed along with it.
While you were trying to get your shit together, fighting the sickness that started to swell inside you, Kyle began to fiddle with your restraints.
“What are you doing?” You asked, not having the strength to pull your head up to look at him.
“You’re done.” There was a finality in his voice, leaving no room for argument. “I’m calling Red.”
“What?” You asked, confused. "I-" You stuttered, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. Process what was happening. "You can't call Red for me."
“Yes I can and I did.” He said, finishing the remaining cuffs before going for the clamps on your nipples.
“But you weren’t finished.” You don't know why you were arguing, but it felt wrong for him to just stop everything.
“Who said I was?” He smirked before gently taking off the clamps. Further down he moved, settling back down between your legs before rooming the clamps he had put on your aching pussy lips. You sucked in a breath as the blood rushed back.
“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You hadn't mean to say it out loud.
“Yeah. You’re done.” His tone annoyed.
“Please don’t be mad at me right now.” You said, throwing an arm over your eyes as if that would somehow shield you from the embarrassment. A sort of if I can't see them, they can't see me mentality. “I held out as long as I could.”
“I’m not mad that we needed to end the scene.” He explained, his tone not as annoyed as before, but still holding a certain sharpness to it. “I’m upset that you should have called yellow and didn’t.” You hissed as he removed the fourth and final clamp. “I’m guessing that you didn’t to prove something.”
Kyle was good at breaking you. It’s what you wanted. It's what he wanted. But he could only be sure to not cross the line if you drew it out for him. He didn't hold the power here, you did.
“Tapping out of a punishment makes me feel bad.” You confessed, still not daring to look at him. “It makes me feel like I bit off more than I could chew and that I’m trying to weasel my way out of a punishment and I don’t like that.”
He decided right this second wasn't the time to have this conversation. You were already starting to drop and he needed to get started on your aftercare. “Let’s get you showered off and then we’ll talk,” he offered, scooping you up from the bed before you had a chance to argue.
He ran the water on luke warm to help your temperature get back down before slowly building it up to a comfortable heat. You leaned against his chest as he ran his hands up and down your back.
Before you could really stop it, the tears came. Kyle felt your body shaking against his chest.
“Shhhh,” he soothed. “It’s alright, Love.”
"I don't know why I'm crying." You sobbed. "I just didn't want to weasel out of it."
"Using a safe word doesn’t mean you’re ’weaseling’ out of a punishment when it becomes too much,” He said, pulling you away to look at you. His fingers rubbing small circles on your arms. “It just means it just got to be too much. You needed to end the scene. End of story.”
“I know," you said, the crown of your head pushing against his chest as you looked down. The water still cascading down on you both. "But it still doesn’t feel that way.”
“Would you like me to keep punishing you?” You knew he was asking it rhetorically, but that didn't stop you from answering honestly.
“Maybe not anything with impact.” You offered. “Like lines or something.”
“I’ll think of something. Later.” He said grabbing your soap off of your little shelf and lathering you up. "Lets get you all cleaned up." Kyle's after care was just as important to him as it was to you. It helped ground him. Make him remember that everything in the bedroom was a fantasy.
You didn't think he was a monster. He wasn't cruel. It gave him an opportunity to also help build back what he had broken.
By the time he as finished rubbing you down, you were practically putty in his hands. "Finish up while I go and change the sheets." He kissed your forehead, leaving you to it.
“How you feeling?” He asked as you made your way back into the bedroom. He had already changed into a fresh pair of jeans and threw on a button up. Sometimes you hated how beautifully put together he could get almost instantly.
“Better.” You gave him a soft smile before noting his outfit.. "You're all dressed up."
"I figured we could still make dinner if you wanted to. You need to eat something." He wasn't wrong. You didn't want to get into the discussion about your only meal for the day had been an iced coffee. So you quickly got ready. You sat on the edge of the bed, putting on your socks when you noticed it again.
The box on the floor that Kyle had brought in earlier. The one he never opened.
“What’s that?” You pointed. Kyle wanted to say that the two of you could open it later, but he had been so exciting to go and pick up his order he could hardly wait.
“It's what I was going to finish the night off with," he answered with a gleam in his eye as he picked up the box, putting it on the bed. "Think of it as a surprise."
"What the fuck is that, Kyle Garrick?" You said, pulling your legs tightly to your body. As if coiling yourself into a ball would ever stop him.
"It's something to help you." That mischievous glint was back in his eye. Your heart stopped as he finally tore through the box like a kid at Christmas. Beaming with pride as he held up the sinister piece of metal.
“Kyle,” you began. “That's not a-”
“A chastity belt.” He finished. “Yes. It's my assurance.” He held up the chunk of metal, allowing it to shine in the bedroom.
"For what?" You're voice reaching a higher pitch. Kyle tried not to laugh as you practically squeaked. You always did it when you were nervous. "Making my life into the Handmaiden's Tale?"
He rolled his eyes at your over-exaggerated comparison. "To make sure you can't cum until I say so." He set the contraption down on the ibed before pulling out a small set of keys and a padlock out of the box as well.
Holy fuck. He was serious. "Since I can’t trust you when I’m not here, you’ll start wearing it when I have to go out.”
“Kyle, please.” You begged. It was no use. You had fucked up. Kyle could handle your brattiness. He loved having you over his knee, making your ass burn. But disobedience and being a little shit were two different things. He gave you a rule and you broke it. Plain and simple.
You had secretly hoped that he would just pull out the ginger root. Figging your poor little asshole until you were a crying, blubbering mess. The aftercare during such a session was so intense it almost made it worth it. Failing in comparison at the one he had just given you, although it was still wonderful.
But you had came without permission. Not only that, but you were strictly told NOT to touch yourself. A rule that you had broken time and time again.
You huff, but honestly the idea of being unable to do anything. Having to beg him…. You could already feel yourself getting wet. “Not now though, right?”
“Later” “Your punishment wasn’t finished.”
“How long would I have to wear it?” You asked, thinking maybe he’ll just
“Let’s start with five days.”
“FIVE?” You practically squeal. No way. There is absolutely no way you’ll be able to make it five days without something to give you some sort of stimulation between your thighs. Even if you had just come so many times it had quite literally made you sick. “Kyle, be reasonable.”
“This is me being reasonable.” He said, grabbing a light jacket from his wardrobe. “Do you think I got one of these last minute? Your lack of control is an issue I will be damned and determined to fix.” He retreated into the your closet with something to keep you warm. “Tell you what,” he said crossing his arms as you put it on. “Make it a week.”
“Kyle!” Your jaw fell open, ready to protest.
“Hush and let me finish.” He ordered, holding up a finger to pause any more interruptions. “One week straight. 24/7 . The belt stays on unless you need to shower or go to the bathroom. Make it a week with no complaints and I’ll give you a week where you don’t have to ask.”
Your ears had suddenly perked up. A week of being able to rub yourself absolutely raw without any repercussions.
“A week and after that I get a week where I can come anytime I want?” You clarified, not fully trusting his wording. "I can cum when you fuck me and when I masturbate. I'm allowed to masturbate?"
Your spew of words had him laughing. "You act like I'm a genie trying to trick you!"
"That's exactly what you are!" You argued, your tone now growing less appalled and more playful.
"Fine!" He sighed. "If you last a week, you can have a full week of absolute orgasmic freedom."
"Deal!" You held out your hand, waiting for the deal to be made before he could go back on his word.
As soon as the two of you had gotten home, Kyle had started the countdown. It felt weird. Definetly uncomfortable and something you weren't entirely sure you would get used to.
The next morning, Kyle was already down in the kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filling your senses as you joined him.
"How'd you sleep?" He asked, smirking over the rim of his mug already knowing the answer.
"Fucking terrible." You huffed out. You had practically tossed and turned all night. He was almost tempted to take it off, but a deal is a deal. "This thing is so uncomfortable. It's like a pair of medieval panties."
"You tapping out after one night?" He asked, already knowing he should have made a counter off to your deal instead of simply it making it a challenge for you.
"Not a chance." You smiled, shooting him the same smile he was giving you. "But I think maybe a cup of coffee could help perk me up."
You kissed him as he handed you your own mug. Humming as his hand traveled to the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him. Deepening the kiss until you were nearly breathless.
You had hoped next week's freedom would be worth it. It surely wasn’t right now as the chastity belt rubbed irritatingly against your core.
#kyle gaz garrick#gaz#call of duty#simon ghost riley#captain john price#john soap mactavish#smut#reader
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