Demon Gaz, Who's Looking For A Pretty Little Plaything To Corrupt. Maybe A Priests Daughter, Or Someone

Demon Gaz, who's looking for a pretty little plaything to corrupt. Maybe a priests daughter, or someone who (somehow) has never sinned before.

<3

hopefully you enjoy this crime against christianity <3 cw dubcon, religion.

looking like such an angel, kyle finds his job incredibly easy. his beautiful brown eyes look like they're incapable of hiding a single sinful thought, never mind an entirely devilish being.

his smile is so bright the local god-fearing women think it could ward off any ill fate that could befall the town--if only they knew the reason for their downfall was their darling local charmer. 

you and kyle had been friends for a while now, he was new in town and took a shine to you immediately when you sat next to him in church one day.

from that moment on, he knew that he would make you his. 

it was easy to get you alone, under the guise of bible study, of reinforcing your father's teachings. the sessions started with quiet, companionable reading. kyle would keep you company, answer simple questions you had, and ask you about your life. 

no boys, no parties, no sin. 

he couldn't ask for a prettier, more innocent little thing to corrupt. 

your descent started slowly, in a way he couldn't have even planned. he didn't have to seek you out, as you followed him around like a lost lamb, unknowingly leading itself to slaughter. you tried to spend as much time with him as possible, obsessed with the way he looked at you like no one had before. 

you could sense his desire, even if you thought it to be something simple and innocent--the kind of love and admiration your parents' marriage was built from, the kind of devotion you had for your god. 

you had no idea of the lust that lay within--the corrupting, all-consuming need. kyle garrick was a selfish man, used to turning girls like you on their heads and feeding off their sins before moving on to the next. 

something about you was different. 

perhaps it was because he'd never met one so pure and untainted, or maybe it was because, unlike the others, you had no sense of self-preservation. it could be that you always had this look in your eyes like you wouldn't really mind if kyle led you astray, you'd follow him anyway. that was something he quickly became addicted to.

the poking and questioning followed soon after, kyle subtly guiding you to question the gospel, your father, and everything you've ever known, all for him. he pretended to struggle with his faith too, though he supposed it wasn't a lie, as once upon a time he had. 

you were quick to follow, enamored by your guardian angel in every way, believing he could never steer you wrong. 

after all, questioning is normal, natural, why we were given free will--that's what kyle always says. and with the sweet way he says it, so earnest and everything... there's no way the two of you are doing anything wrong.

so when he pulls you into his lap one day, bible in hand, you don't question it. when he asks your interpretation on a particular verse, and leads you to a certain conclusion, you don't question it. 

when he takes you on a walk through the churchyard flowers and kisses you under the flower-filled pergola, lips against yours like he's devouring you, you don't question it. 

from there, the rest is easy. coaxing you into sneaking out late at night, straight into his arms, getting you to give up your vow of chastity, your commitments to the church, your devotion to god.

instead, you worship him. his name falling from your lips like a prayer as he drives inside you, taking you for him forever. spoiling you for other men, breaking all your oaths. 

he stretches you out, shapes you to him, claims you with his cock, his cum, his fingers, the way his nails scraping down your body carves his name into your soul.

you cry out for him when your pretty mouth is on the end of his cock, you cry out for him when he's gone--tears beading in your eyes either way. 

and when they try to take you away from kyle, to make you 'see the light', 

all the lessons you've been taught about vengeance and grace fall away, and you search for a new beginning--disavowing your church, your family, your upbringing. 

and with your fall complete, when it's time for kyle to skip town? there's no way in hell he could leave you behind.

Vacation in Cayo Coco, Cuba with Poly!141 x Author

Hi everyone! I am so sorry for the little to no updates on any fanfiction, but I have gone through many real-life struggles and whatnot. But lately, I have been interested in the video game: Call of Duty (2022) including Task Force 141 led by Captain Price. Recently I went on a family vacation to Cuba at the beginning of December 2023. While I was by the poolside, I imagined the TF141 joining me for the vacation trip. Here you go and enjoy!

I sigh as I relax by the pool after a day of travelling from yesterday. I left our room early so my partners could get some additional sleep. But a shadow blocks the sunlight on my book and a drink is held above it. I trace back to the person’s hand as I smile up to the person. Soap is in his swimwear as he holds drinks in his hands.

“Care for a drink bonnie?” His Scottish accent is present as he asked me. I bookmark my page before closing it so I can accept it.

“Thanks, Soap. Were the others still asleep when you got up?” I asked him as he sat on the seat beside me.

“Nah, the others got up about a half hour after you. Cap is enjoying a cigar from the shop here while Gaz and Ghost are by the ocean nearby.” Soap answered before kissing me. I kissed back and we relaxed by the pool as someone came by and kissed the top of my head. I look up and see Price there with a smile.

“Doing alright, love?” He asked and I nodded in reply as he grabbed three more so Gaz and Ghost could join us when they could. We chat about the missions that we did in the past and laugh at the good times. Gaz and Ghost arrived and gave us a greeting before joining our tanning area. I grab the sunscreen and move to Ghost so I can apply it to his back. 

“Going to put sunscreen on you hun” I informed Ghost before starting to apply it to his back and massage it in as Gaz did the same to Price’s back. After I finish Ghost’s, Soap works on my back for me while Price works on Gaz. We all relax and share jokes as we soak in the sun.

“Hey Natasha, when do you think our next trip together is going to be? Depending if we are not going to be deployed in the middle of our vacation like last time.” Gaz asks me as I finish my drink. I think about it for a moment and smile.

“Anywhere as long as I am with you guys. You all are my husbands and I couldn't be more happy for your beloved wife.” I smile as I kiss Gaz softly on the lip before Soap pulls me to him so he can make out with me.

“That's good… now, I think we are long overdue for our honeymoon phase~,” Price said as Ghost pulled me from the other and tossed me over his shoulder. I goggles as Gaz gathers my bag and our towels while we head back to our suite for some more fun~

hello beloveds ☺️

Mascara

Toxic ex bf! Ghost x reader.

Cw: Verbal abuse, physical abuse, dub con

“Stumblin’ in at the ass crack of dawn dressed like a slag. Typical.” Simon grunts out, his hulking form sprawled lazily on your arm chair.

You freeze in your tracks, mouth going dry, heart beat creeping into your throat, and the hairs on your arm standing at attention. You’d expected something like this to happen soon. Since the break up you’d blocked him cold turkey on everything and tried your best to put the situation as far out of your mind as possible. It was impossible not to notice the signs of his impending debut back into your life though. The burner accounts that always viewed your social media stories first, the unknown number calls, and the middle aged man across the hall who’d warned you about a potential thief casing your place. It reeked of Simon, all of it.

“You need to get out of my house.” You say as firmly as you can, lips pulled tight and arms crossed against your chest, shielding your cleavage in the admittedly skimpy dress.

He lets out a dry chuckle with no humor behind it, somewhere deep in his chest before rising to his feet and taking a step towards you, causing you to reflexively flinch. A few more strides and you find yourself pressed to the door, barely enough room to breathe without your stomach pressing into his. His face connects to the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His scent trail follows all the way down, dropping to his knees and lifting your dress to prod at your cunt with his nose while you’re paralyzed in disbelief and fear. He lets out a low hum and taps the outside of your thigh twice before standing, seeming satisfied with his fucked up field report.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask, your voice cracking and hushed as you try to not give him the satisfaction of tears.

“Had to make sure no one else used my pussy. I know she was beggin’ for something all night with the way you’re dressed. You must be starved huh, love?” He muses, his hand snaking down to cup your cunt in his hand, rubbing at your clit with his palm and not bothering to pull your underwear to the side first.

You want to call the police. You want to tell him that you hate him and to get the hell out of your place. You want to scream at him until your vocal cords tear. However, there’s a difference between a want and a need. He’d taught you that well. Right now with the alcohol still in your system and the neglect of your sex drive for months, you need him. You need to feel the way that only he can make you feel, and you can’t tell if you hate him or yourself more in this moment.

Your resistance fades away the more he palms at your pussy and is lost all together when he rips your panties off, spitting on his hand and rubbing two calloused fingers over your puffy clit. The sparks of pleasure run up your spine and down your legs, causing them to shake and become unsteady. In an act of mercy you’re slung over his shoulder and walked to your room. He drops you onto the bed unceremoniously, pawing at your dress before finally ripping it off over your head, letting it fall to the floor.

“There she is.” He hums, running his hands down the soft skin of your belly and stopping right before where you needed him most.

“Please. Simon please just—I need—.” You attempt to say before a sharp slap to your pussy cuts you off, a strangled squeal leaving your throat.

“I know what you need. I know you better than anyone.” He says lowly, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his sweats and underwear, pulling them down in a fluid motion.

His cock is rock hard, red at the tip and weepy. From the looks of it, he hadn’t gotten laid lately either. He leans forward and slaps the fat tip against your clit, a content smirk on his lips. You scold yourself mentally from almost sentimentalizing it. You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be under him again. You should—.

Your thoughts completely clear as you feel the agonizing stretch of very little prep. A deep burn and sting in your core that promises to dissapear and replace itself with blissful fullness. He wastes no time, his hips rocking into you; fat cock dipping in and out of you as his balls slap against your ass. One of his hands finds it’s home on your throat and the other rests on your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow.

“You know where home is. Don’t cha’ baby? Waited nice an’ good for me to come back and take care of my pretty pussy.” He growls, the tempo of his thrusts picking up and causing your hips to ache from the constant slamming.

“Fuck you Simon.” You manage to choke out with all of the malice that you can, and in a moment of boldness spitting right in his face.

His thrusts grind to a halt and he lifts his hand to his face, using the back of his palm to wipe the spit off of his chin and onto your sheets. His eyes lock with yours, brows knitted together and pupils blown out like a jaguar about to disembowel a poor tapir. Immediately you want to take it back, to apologize and kneel at his feet and beg to him like a god for a shred of mercy. But his mind seems to be already made up.

The back of his palm connects with your cheek just once, leaving it red and stinging and angry. The tears that finally flow from your eyes drag muddy grey lines down your face, mascara and eyeliner. Simon seems to be spurred on by your disheveled look, his thrusts picking up again and hand returning to your face.

“I fuckin’ own you. Dumb little bitch. You need to be led and told what to do. Can’t be trusted alone. Gonna get yourself killed or knocked up by some deadbeat.” He grunts into your ear, his pace becoming erratic indicating that he’s nearing his end.

Your cunt clenches hard around him involuntarily, your thighs locking around him as you reach your orgasm, involuntarily milking Simon in the process. You’d be screaming if it wasn’t for the massive hand clamping your airway shut, which your neighbors are probably grateful for. With a loud moan Simon spills, his hips stilling as hot cum floods your insides. He doesn’t bother to pull out before laying next to you, half hard cock nestled comfortably in your pussy.

“Sweet thing. It’s a big world out there, you’d be lost without me wouldn’t you little stray?” He hums, licking his thumb and rubbing it against your cheek to try and wipe off the makeup mess.

“…Yes, Si.” You agree, full of shame and guilt.

simon "ghost" riley/john "soap" mactavish x fem!reader words: 451 warnings: gunshot wound, inaccurate descriptions of wounds (probably) note: this is my first attempt at a multi-part story and i'm excited but also nervous so please be kind. this is a mwiii fix-it fic because fuck sledgehammer games and fuck activision. all my works are 18+ regardless of if there is smut or not so minors dni.

A shot rings out, and Soap feels a searing pain piercing through his head. A thick wetness seeps down the side of his face, drenching his collar. His vision starts to go black around the edges, each blink heavier than the last.

He wonders if Price was able to stop the bomb.

He hopes so.

He hears Simon say his name.

No, he doesn’t say it. He screams it. It’s a tone Soap’s never heard from him before. He sounds terrified, despair laced in his name.

He feels himself being moved, settled into Simon's lap as his face comes into view. His eyes are glittering with tears and Soap hazily thinks of how pretty Simon is, even with the mask and the eyeblack, and how he’s the luckiest bastard in the world to wake up next to him each day.

And you.

He thinks of you alone in the flat, clutching your phone, waiting for someone to let you know they’re coming home.

“We need medivac now!” Price roars into his coms, the tone fierce and unforgiving.

Gentle hands cradle his head, being so, so careful with him. He's not deserving of such tenderness.

The blackness seeps deeper, and he hears Simon begging, pleading for something. For him to stay awake?

He wants to. But he’s so, so tired. His body is cold and sore all over and he wants to rest. Wants Simon to cradle him from the back with you curled up in his arms, face tucked into his throat so he feels each gentle exhale as you sleep so peacefully with them.

He thinks of Simon and you. How he can’t believe he’s loved so deeply by his soulmates. He never gave much thought to that notion but now that you’re both in his life? He can’t believe in anything but.  

Life before Simon was dull. 

Simon changed that, made Soap happier than he ever thought possible. 

Then you came along, completed it all with your bright smile and sweet soul, clicking into place with them as if you had been there all along.

They had just been waiting for you.

As he starts to drift, he hopes Simon goes home to you, cradles you close and lets you know how much he loves both of you.

His last thought is a distant memory — the first time you woke up in their bed. Hair messy and so, so shy. But when Simon saw you there, he smiled brighter than he had in months. And then you turned to Soap and it took his breath away, how it all felt like it was meant to be, like it was fate.

His eyes slip shut and the world goes dark.

but whooo out of price and ghost holds your legs back and who does the fucking during a threesome???