Mw2 141 - Tumblr Posts

BREEDING KINK 141.

Ghost's breeding kink manifests after you express interest in having a kid.

He pistons in and out of you at a slow pace, his cock reaching impossibly deep with each thrust as you arch your back and put your ass up higher. You grip the sheets of the bed, whimpering quietly into the pillow you lay your head on as he leans over you and wraps an arm around your midsection, lifting your upper half up so he can whisper into your ear and hold you flush against him.

"You wanna be a mama? M'gonna make you a fuckin' mama."

He grunts, nipping at your earlobe as he angles his thrusts a little to reach deeper, the head of his cock knocking against your cervix with every other thrust.

"Gonna fuck you 'till it takes. Gonna fuck you every night and every mornin' to make sure it takes. Yeah, y'want that, sweetheart? Say you want it, love."

Soap's breeding kink has always been there, but he's never quite registered that he has one. It's not until you get baby fever that he starts thinking about having kids. You're getting baby products advertised to you online, and they start having the same effect on him.

"Oh, fuck, gimme a baby," you whimper, your face burying into his neck as your hips grind down into his. His head is tilted forward and he's watching your hips move, though his grip on your hips tightens when you utter the words. "Y'want a baby?" He mumbles, his grip on your hips tightening to the point where you whimper and stop. He releases it and looks up at you with those baby blues, and within a second he's got you on your back and your legs together, hanging over his shoulders as his thrusts pick up in speed.

"I'll give ye a baby, lass… give ye as many as ye want. Just say the word, sweet girl."

His thrusts get harder, and you're whining and mewling and you have your eyes shut tight as your orgasm takes over. He's cumming not long after, his cock twitching inside you as he pushes into you one final time.

"Mmm. Yeah, sweet girl, gonna give ye a kid… Can't tell me our kids won't be adorable."

Oh, Price? You don't have to tell him. He has a breeding kink, and it's obvious.

That man has FANTASIES about getting you pregnant. His breeding kink shows sometimes, like tonight.

He has you bent over the counter of your kitchen, your hair tangled up in his fist and his hand around your wrist, pulling on it gently and making you arch your back as he pounds into you.

Quick and rough thrusts as he grunts into your ear. "Imagine how you'd look, waddlin' 'round all swollen with my kid… can't wait till the day my cum finally takes, eh? I'll cherish you. Fuckin' cherish you." He whispers. His words are as rough as his thrusts, but they carry a gentleness. Especially when he's cumming. Wrapping an arm around your torso and letting you fall forward, picking up one of your legs by the underside of your knee and lifting it up and to the side so he can fuck you harder, he slams into you one final time before he's cumming buckets. The moment he notices his cum dripping out, he's pulling out and using two fingers to push hit back into you. mumbling something about not wasting a drop as he kisses your back.

Gaz's breeding kink is subtle. He only fucks you in positions where he can see your face. The day you start asking him to cum inside, he's thinking of you getting pregnant with his kid. Arms laced under your knees, hands on the plush of your ass and your back against the wall as he leans back and thrusts up into you. He's been fucking you slow like this for the past hour and you're getting needy. Squirming in his grip, pawing at your husband's chest and mewling about needing him to fuck you harder. He flashes that grin he wears whenever you've amused him and his movements suddenly ramp up in force as he pushes you further against the wall.

"Such a needy girl. Needin' me to fuck ya so hard you can't walk, huh? You've already came twice, what, d'ya want me to fill you up?"

Your cunt convulses around him.

"Yeah, that's it," he trills. "Needin' me to fill ya up so you can go to bed stuffed with my cum. Mm, maybe it'll take,"

He thrusts a bit harder into you and his grip on your ass tightens. He's thinking about filling you up even more now, and he can barely focus on anything but filling you up. So that's what he does. His thrusts stutter, and he throws his head back and groans out while you mewl.

"Oh, fuck. Mmm. Yeah, it'll take. Gonna give you a fuckin' baby, sweetheart."

The barman was clearly flirting with you, the way he was undressing you with his eyes and all the flirty jokes and fluttering compliments he was making. All these didn't go unnoticed by Ghost who was currently sitting on the corner of the bar, his glass of whiskey tightly grasped by his hand, threatening to shatter into tiny pieces.

And that's how you are found here. Your ass up while his tattooed arm is wrapped around your neck, his free hand grasping your hip in a tight hold while fucking you like an animal in heat. You're sure that by the end of the night your hip will be bruised. He's going hard on you, but you can't say no, his cock feels too good to say no.

"This pussy is mine d'you get that luv?" your head is too fucked up to answer. And this time ghost grabs aggressively your cheeks forming a pout "I said did you get it?"

"Y-yes only y-yours" satisfied he lets go and taps lightly your cheek "good girl".

i did send the same thing to another writer i enjoy bc i love different takes on things, but my little dumpster brain has had one thought in the last 24 hours - imagine confiding in your captain that you'd like to have a baby bc biological clock or whatever, and being in the field really puts a damper on your sex life, so that makes it difficult. but the 141 will do anything for one of their own, so if that means they're running trains and taking turns on you DAILY until it takes (and probably even after 👀), then so be it.

lol... you lit a fuckin' fire with this ask, my friend. hot!!

"The Window" (141/Reader)

You awoke to the soft tinkling noise of his belt and zipper, rattling at the edge of your bed. Your captain, John Price, was answering his call of duty, and within moments, you knew he would slip his fat, flaccid cock between your legs and allow your warmth to make him harden within you. He preferred it this way. First, he would rub you with it, heavy and smooth, smearing your wetness all over his skin. Then, with a singular talent, he would somehow stuff his soft, lolling head into your hole, feeding himself into you gently, letting your body take him in on its own as your pussy pulsed for him, and he would rub your clit absent-mindedly, comforting himself with your swollen lips, sighing raggedly as you covered him up. Once he was hard - and fuck, he was impossibly hard - he would fuck you through your blinding pleasure, his girth giving you burst after burst of hot, searing bliss.  

He wasn’t your boyfriend - none of them were - but the members of your task force, the 141, had all agreed to be the father of your child. It had started when Captain Price first saw your appointment on the team calendar. You’d meant to post it privately, but you had failed to do so. He came to you right away, his face full of worry,

“Wha’s goin’ on, Spar? Goin’ to the main base hospital… Wha’s all this about?”

So, you’d told him, a little bashfully, that you were trying to get pregnant. You’d be turning 28 this fall, and you wanted to be a mom, sooner rather than later. Every few weeks, you were shipped off to some too-cold or too-hot locale, getting shot at and flash-banged. There wasn’t really time to find a date, much less convince them that you would make a good mother. The last time you tried to use Tinder, one guy had called you ‘Rambo’ and blocked you, so it wasn’t going well. 

“I’ll go with you, little bird. Sounds important.”

“You don’t need to do that, Captain. I’m sure I can take out a loan for it…” You thought out loud, remembering the pamphlet and all of its cost breakdowns for IVF treatments.

“A loan? Last time I checked, love, it was free,” he chuckled. 

“Free when you have someone who’d be willing to give it to you, sir,” you challenged him with your confidence, trying not to be ashamed, even of your ‘Rambo’ nickname. 

“Sparrow,” he raised his voice and nearly shouted your callsign incredulously in the small mess hall where he’d found you, “There’s no bloody way you don’t have someone willing.” 

“Wha’s goin’ on, Cap?” Gaz poked his head in behind the door. 

“Nothing,” you tried to stop the literal landslide of embarrassment that was happening to you.

“She wants to have a baby,” Price told him, smiling a bit as your cheeks turned pink.

“A baby?” Gaz commented with no small amount of surprise.

“Who wants a baby?” Simon yelled out from the hallway before opening the door wider and scooting around Gaz to join into the conversation. 

“A bairn!?” Soap barged in, slamming the door all the way open and forcing Gaz to tumble into the kitchen. 

So, the whole team knew in a matter of moments, but Price kept his word. He drove you to the hospital for your appointment and asked more questions to the doctor than you did. Unfortunately, he heard all of the strictest rules and took them to heart. No cigarettes, no caffeine, plenty of rest and… plenty of exposure to male ejaculate. 

There had been a meeting, of which you were not a part, between Price and the other men in your task force, and they had come to a conclusion: they would put a baby in you. It was their singular mission. A bit of back and forth had occurred when you found out their plan.

“Is there… we dinnae want to pressure you, lass, but,” Soap looked around at Ghost, Gaz, and Price before settling back on you, “Are there any of us you wouldnae like to be the father? We willnae take offense.”

“No! I’d be happy to have any of you… I mean… But, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this if you don’t want to,” you could feel the heat of your shame rising in your cheeks, and you knew you were as red as a lobster. You heard a bit of laughter at your comment and feared the worst. But then, Gaz explained,

“I’m afraid all of us very much want to, Sparrow.”

He had even palmed his growing cock for emphasis. 

But, it had to be fair, you decided. There should be a schedule; no favorites. And for the first month, there was. Soap was your Monday, Ghost was Tuesday, Gaz was Thursday, and Price was Friday. But then Price had a meeting and so Soap was Friday, and Price was Saturday. That meant Ghost was Monday. You were in training on Tuesday, so Gaz was Wednesday, but Soap couldn’t do Thursday or Friday because he had to go in for his annual review. So, he joined Gaz on Wednesday, stepping in right after him as if you were a pretty little mailbox and the boys had come to drop off their packages. 

When the weekly schedule fell apart, you hung a big calendar in your quarters, and they’d pencil themselves in. That was fine until you had been shipped out to Aqtabi. You’d tried to keep it up while you were in the field, remembering what day was which, but the truth was that sometimes you had no idea if it was morning or night. Was that the sun or a flare? 

And sometimes it didn’t matter. Something would happen on a mission, and Price would crawl beneath your scratchy woolen sheet, searching for the comfort of your arms, not saying a word, not even asking you if it was alright, but just taking you there in the cold night of the desert, filling you up and keeping his cock sheathed in you, safe and sound. 

And sometimes you needed them, too. Waiting on exfil, huddled together in the pouring rain beneath a sad tarp, you’d crawled into Gaz’s lap, looping your arms around his neck and letting him hold you in a cradle, using his big chest as your pillow. You’d dozed, exhausted, and he’d rubbed himself against you through your clothes, coaxing you to pull down your pants so he could empty himself into your womb, quick and filthy. You remembered how it felt when his come had soaked through your panties as you sat next to him in the helicopter, letting him hold your hand. 

You felt a little guilty that you weren’t exactly hoping for a child during those first few months. You were enjoying their affections, no matter how platonic they may have felt. 

It didn’t stay that way, though. Soap was the worst offender. When he fucked you, he wanted to spend most of his time eating you out, sucking on your clit with his mouth like a hungry dog, soaking himself in your scent and your flavor before finally mounting you, crawling over your body like the hound that he was, dipping his cock into you and beating your core like a drum. He’d stare into your eyes when he could manage it, and he’d slipped up one day and told you he loved you. That you were his girl, his wee bonnie lass, and that he’d raise the bairn with you, even if it was Black like Gaz, tall like Ghost, or had Price’s big nose. It’d be his and yours. He’d be the daddy you wanted him to be, he promised. 

Then, you’d had to deal with Gaz. He’d made dinner reservations at a restaurant near base while he had your legs held up to your chest, helping you wait the twenty suggested minutes for his “lads” to “soak in”. Told you he was just hungry, but he had also happened to buy you a nice dress, and he’d driven you in his sporty little Beamer, bright red and clean as a whistle. He’d fucked you after dinner, sneaking in a double feature, which was expressly against the rules. Told you he couldn’t help himself, and he said he’d been thinking about you all weekend, cock in hand. 

Ghost was like his namesake, haunting you all over the place. He found you in the locker room, and decided to fuck you standing up, sweaty from your sparring match. He’d washed you off in the shower, and he’d taken you in there, too, after coaxing you to make him hard again by sucking him off. Ghost would slink by you in the reference room, stalking you through the bookshelves, and dragging you to the storage closet to fuck you on all fours on the floor, maps and looseleaf pamphlets about Russian spy camps under your rosy red knees. He got vocal that night, cramped with his huge body in that tiny closet, telling you what a good girl you were for him, how you fit his fuckin’ cock so perfect, how he’d never want anyone else, how it felt so good to fill your body up with his load. 

Then, there was your captain. At first, you weren’t sure he was truly a willing participant. He seemed to avoid you unless he was on the schedule. He didn’t cut in line, and if you were on the couch or in the kitchen with one of the boys, he’d leave you be, smiling at you a bit before grabbing his tea and escaping back to his office. But, then you realized the truth: John Price wanted to put a baby inside of you more than anyone else, and he would go to the ends of the earth to make sure it happened. 

“Hey, little bird,” John’s finger pet the side of your cheek as you woke, feeling him pull down your pink silk panties so he could start to warm you up, “I’m your Sunday.”

“Mm,” you rubbed the sleep out of your eye and opened up your legs for him, giving him full access to your body on instinct at this point, “John, we gave up on the schedule. You can come whenever you want. Or, you can stop.”

“Can’t stop,” he kissed your mouth as he leaned over you, and you tasted peppermint and tobacco mixing together with something heady and lustful, “We’re in the window.”

Ah. The Window. All of the boys talked about The Window and when it was coming up next. They’d all downloaded trackers on their phones, watching you like birds of prey for when you ordered a box of tampons, checking with you to see when you were off the rag. And then, you’d be “in the window” of ovulation. Their best chance at succeeding at this mission. 

They would fuck you at any time of the month, and Soap and Price would even fuck you through your period, having read in some magazine that there was a small chance of success. But, being in The Window was like covering yourself in honey in the middle of a cave in spring and waking up all the bears inside it. Fertile ground, ripe for the taking. 

“Mm, fuck,” you keened. John had two fingers in you now, pressing on your soft spots and stretching your hole. You wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss, which he moaned into. 

“Feel good, Spar? You want to make me hard, pretty bird?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking up at him with desperate eyes, “Yeah, I do. Please, John…”

 He slipped himself in, half-hard already, and you felt the body of it slide into your core. It was soft, and you liked to squeeze it with your muscles, feeling him writhe inside of you when you did, reveling in his pleasure. He sat back on his heels to let you play with him fully, watching you grind your hips on him as he massaged your clit to its full, swollen height. He was in no rush, and he spoke to you casually. 

“Has Kyle been in this weekend?”

“No, it was Soap,” you tried to remember, “And then Ghost, and then Soap again.”

Price chuckled warmly,

“That boy wants a baby so badly.”

You smiled with him, agreeing, 

“He does. He interrupted Gaz on Thursday and asked him when he’d be done!” 

Price laughed with you then, his eyes gleaming and crinkling at the edges,

“Oh, Christ. He’d be a good one. They’d all be good.”

You watched his mood shift. There was something solemn about it, and you wanted to chase it away. You rubbed your hand along his furry belly, locking your ankles around his hips and shamelessly rocking your hips to fit more of him into you. You confessed, 

“You’d be good.”

His eyes found yours again and he stilled, wondering out loud,

“D’you think so, Sparrow?”

“I know so.”

“Can I tell you a secret, little bird?” He whispered, lowering himself into position and stuffing his hard length even deeper inside of you, making you worry just a bit if he could hurt you with that thing. 

You nodded, kissing his huge Adam’s apple in his throat and nuzzling through his beard. He told you the whole truth as he pounded himself into you without mercy, 

“Sometimes, I wish he would be mine. I wish…” He almost stopped, but he kept going, like a raft in the stream, too caught in the current to go back to the shore, “I wish you could be mine, and then I could rub lotion on your belly when you got big. And I could cook for you when you got tired, and I could read to you, even when he was still inside of you, and I know he could hear my voice. I wish, sometimes, that when it happens, that I’d be the first to know. That you’d tell me first, because you knew it was mine, because you’d want him to be mine.”

You were stunned, and you were coming, and the two were very separate events. As your pussy pulsed and tried to milk him of his come, making you dizzy and almost sick with pleasure, you were shocked by his admission. You grabbed his face and made him look you in your eyes,

“John…” You panted, coming down from your first high of many with Price, “I had no idea you felt that way.”

“I didn’t either,” he smiled, but the corners didn’t reach his eyes. 

When he fucked you this morning, you had no idea how good it could feel, but he showed you. He rutted into you, desperately, like some sort of beast, unable to stop himself. It was as if he would fuck himself bloody in you if he had to, and you wanted to take him as best you could. You felt him finally start to come, and he plugged you up with his thickness, shoving himself as deep as he would go, sealing you off and keeping you warm and elevated. 

He kept his cock in you, gasping for breath and petting the hair out of your face. He kissed you, cheeks and chin and neck, all the way down to your breasts where he suckled from your nipples, almost dreamlike in the way he was touching you, fully covered in you the entire time. 

“Sleep, birdie,” he nuzzled your neck and continued to lave his tongue over your breasts, “I’ll wake you when I’m hard again.”

Part 2

Tism, but military propaganda

Task force 141 x Autistic!Gn!Reader Warnings: None really A/N: I feel like theres a good chunk of the cod fandom is people who saw the mw2 remake and heard "A new hand touches the beacon". But with a special interest y'know, anyways shout out the the autistic propaganda enjoyers, I love y'all. John Price

Once you tell Price, he had to do a lot of research. He knew autism existed and you would have sensory needs because of it, but that was about it.

He goes through his entire house to make sure you'd be comfortable in it (When he learned how certain fabrics make you feel he found any he had in his house and chucked them in the bin.)

Horrible at remembering information and lore about your special interest(s), that doesn't mean he doesn't try though.

Every time you start talking about it Price stops what he's doing if he can and listens to you and asks questions even if it's a very niche topic.

Sometimes when he has a stack of paperwork to do he'll ask you to talk to him about it because he knows it makes you happy and he loves your voice.

When he can, Price will stock up on all of your safe foods so even while he's deployed you'll have a little stash to eat. When his missions last months on end don't be surprised if you find "random" packages of your safe foods and snacks at your doorstep.

If or when you both move in together, you have free rein to make the house perfect for your needs.

Posters, figures or stuffies you want to put around the house because they make you happy? Weird little thing you picked up on a whim that looks a little questionable? Copious amounts of little trinkets?

Put them anywhere you'd like.

Tell him offhandedly one day about how much you despise the overhead lights in rooms Price is already asking your opinions on different small lamps.

Doesn't completely understand what stimming is but he's supportive. He buys you any fidget toys, chew-able things or anything of the like if you want them.

He'll be a little concerned if you vocal stim a lot but tell him it's a normal thing and he'll just say "Oh, alright"

The second you start getting overstimulated or just done with being in public, Price already has his keys out. If your not happy he's not happy, if he can you'll find yourself out of that situation and going home in record timing. Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Lets be honest, Ghost is too.

When you tell him he gives you a thumbs up and asks what some of your sensory needs are.

His special interest is anything knives, so if yours is anything related to knives you're in luck. One of the only times he'll be extremely talkative is if you ask him about them.

For the most part though, Ghost prefers to listen to you talk about what you like. He likes listening to your voice, it calms him down.

If you see some merch of something you really love, or a stuffed animal of your favorite animal he'll not-so-discreetly use his military money to good use.

Not only is Ghost extremely good at listening to you talk about your special interest(s), but he has a weirdly good memory when it comes to it as well.

He could forget what he had for breakfast but he could repeat that fun fact you told him a week ago word for word.

Not great at cooking, actually pretty bad at it, but if he can find a recipe on a dish that you love he'll make sure that it's cooked perfectly to how you like it. Just for you.

Ghost understands how hard it can be to de-mask, both literally and mentally, and he still struggles sometimes on what is him and what is his mask. So if you start trying to learn to de-mask more he'll be extremely supportive.

If you ever go non-verbal around him, Ghost would not care at all (In a good way)

Most likely already knows BSL if you want to sign with him, otherwise he doesn't mind trying to find a way to communicate.

Chances are if you start getting over stimulated or uncomfortable somewhere, he doesn't want to be there either so he'll be happy to just up and leave. If you're too nervous to excuse yourself, he'll bluntly tell whoever is there that you're both leaving and do just that.

Ghost doesn't stim a lot but he loves when you do. He sees it as you feeling safe and comfortable enough around him that you're open with your expression.

When he goes on deployment, he always leaves some little trinket he knows you'll love on the kitchen counter for you to find

Usually it's a new fidget, something related to your special interest, or something skull related

He always feels so happy when he sees or hears you stimming around him in any way, it just reminds him how he loves you. Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

The king of making sure all your needs are met

Also, amazing communication skills, he always makes sure to check in with you to see how you're doing throughout the day

If you let him, he'll host little 'slumber parties' where he'll gather a bunch of snacks, blankets and let you pick a show/movie for you both to watch.

Bonus points if it's something you've seen a million times before, he loves when you know little tid-bits about your favorite movies

Loves listening to you talk about any special interest you may have

He's a curious lad so expect him to ask a lot of questions about everything

Off topic, Gaz makes really good french toast.

Gaz is really good at memorizing the brands you like, he absolutely refuses to buy you a different brand without consulting you first.

"Angel, they're out of the normal one, should I get something else or forget it?"

Researches your special interest(s), especially if it's really niche or taboo, so he can keep up with you

If he sees anything with your special interest on it he'll buy it without a thought if you don't stop him

He finds any of your stimming adorable

If you own any chelwery/things to chew on he'd get interested and buy one for himself

Absentmindedly gnaws on it when he's doing something mundane, not a big fan of how much it makes him salivate though

If you get overstimulated when you're both out and about Gaz would find a quiet and secluded area for you both to take a break at.

If you tell him you just want to head home he won't judge you, he'd do anything to make sure you're happy and comfortable John 'Soap' Mactavish

*Cough* diagnosed ADHD *cough*

Will spend 30 minutes looking at two different brands of one of your safe food trying to remember which is the 'good' one

He ended up having to call you after he started convincing himself you didn't even like the food

Heard you joking about liking sharks once and now he buys everything shark themed he saw

100% will talk to people if you don't want to/feel uncomfortable talking

Will also punch someone if they make fun of your autistic traits within 50 miles of him

He'll trade facts about your special interests for facts about different explosives

Soap would try to teach you how to make a bomb

Soap would deny ever trying to teach you how to make a bomb

Soap would high five you if you ever "somehow" learned how to make a bomb and then blew something up with it

If you don't like overhead lights because they're icky he'll replace all of the normal lights in the house with disco bulbs

Can't fold like a wet tissue to bright lights if you're too busy boogieing

Usually hates doing dishes by hand because of, ironically, the soap

But if it comes down to it and you cringe at the mere thought of touching wet food, he'd happily wash dishes in your honor

He knows that he can be pretty loud so when he's around you he'll make a conscious effort to be a little quieter

Painfully oblivious most of the time so if you start to get overstimulated and need to leave someplace, you’ll probably have to point blank tell him

Once you do though you're both out of there

Soap does everything short of picking you up and sprinting to the exit

--------------- Hope this was good, please don't steal this and reposts are appreciated. Thanks for readin'

i need...I need...I NEED A GHOST X LATINA READER URGENTLY

OR ONLY 141 X LATINA READER POR FAVOR

i'm going to go crazy, i can't stop imagining reader talking to them in her thick latin accent (and it gets extremely strong when she's mad

1/4

Been into the MW reboot lately

modern warfare roleplay :)

Hey! My name is Moon or Sun; either one is fine with me. I'm a 22-year-old female. Currently, I have some major brain rot for modern warfare, and I'm absolutely obsessed with Price or Captain Price. I'm extremely obsessed with him at the moment, and I really want to do an angsty and sweet roleplay with him and my OC.

I'm fine with doubling, and I prefer it. I'm most comfortable playing Köing, and anyone from Task Force 141 can do Graves, but fair warning, it may not be the best or most accurate because I haven't really played his character and I haven't looked into him to the point where I'm extremely ok playing him.

I've been roleplaying for about 5 or 6 years now, and I absolutely adore it. I usually write 2-4 paragraphs per response, and I'm happy to send a writing sample on request. I mainly use servers since I'm a sucker for organization and everything having its own spot, especially if we're doing a double I love being friends out of roleplay and sharing headcanons, music, TikTok's, and all of that if you're into that.

I only have about 2 or 3 requirements, and those are that you have to be 18+, because I do, and that this roleplay should include NSFW. The second is that you use Discord because I don't check Tumblr a lot, and I just prefer Discord. My last requirement is no one-liners, absolutely no one or two-liners, because they give me almost nothing to get off of, and they kind of kill any suspense we're building up. That's about it for my requirements.

My discord is down below. Please either DM me on here or Discord so we can talk about the plot and what it will include, especially the angst part. I hope to hear from you soon :)

sunmoon4098

modern warfare roleplay!

Hey! My name is Moon or Sun; either one is fine with me. I'm a 23-year-old female. Currently, I have some major brain rot for modern warfare, and I'm absolutely obsessed with Price or Captain Price. I'm extremely obsessed with him at the moment, and I really want to do an angsty and sweet roleplay with him and my OC.

I'm fine with doubling, and I prefer it. I'm most comfortable playing Köing, and anyone from Task Force 141 can do Graves, but fair warning, it may not be the best or most accurate because I haven't really played his character and I haven't looked into him to the point where I'm extremely ok playing him.

I've been roleplaying for about 5 or 6 years now, and I absolutely adore it. I usually write 2-4 paragraphs per response, and I'm happy to send a writing sample on request. I mainly use servers since I'm a sucker for organization and everything having its own spot, especially if we're doing a double I love being friends out of roleplay and sharing headcanons, music, TikTok's, and all of that if you're into that.

I only have about 2 or 3 requirements, and those are that you have to be 18+, because I do, and that this roleplay should include NSFW. The second is that you use Discord because I don't check Tumblr a lot, and I just prefer Discord. My last requirement is no one-liners, absolutely no one or two-liners, because they give me almost nothing to get off of, and they kind of kill any suspense we're building up. That's about it for my requirements.

My discord is down below. Please either DM me on here or Discord so we can talk about the plot and what it will include, especially the angst part. I hope to hear from you soon :)

sunmoon4098

141 + konig, Alejandro, and Rudy with an S/O that has thick thighs

141 + koni, alejandro, n rudy with a s/o that’s got thickkk thighs

a/n: im so sorry for the delay in posts but i trust have sm to post yall don’t even worry

mainly cutesy stuff with some suggestive moments

john price loves how your thighs hug any pants you wear. he loves to keep a spare hand on them whenever he’s next to you, whether that is in a meeting or just relaxing on the couch. he believes that your thighs make your body just that much more perfect.

simon riley is obsessed with the shape of your thighs. he believes that they’re plush pillows that were made specifically for him to lay on. not even in a sexual way, he loves kissing up and down your thighs. the soft skin makes it a luxury experience for him.

johnny mactavish thinks your thighs are the best part of your body. of course he adores your face, but the way your thighs get bigger when you sit down, almost welcoming him to use them as pillows. he loves the way they grip around him when you’re on top.

kyle garrick believes being between your thighs is heaven on earth. in a sexual and non sexual manner. he loves sitting between your thighs and letting you stroke through his hair. he listens to you talk about your day but tends to get distracted by thinking about what your reaction would be if he flipped his head over.

könig LUUVSSSS how your thighs look in shorts. good lord omg. like you’ll just be walking around base and it takes everything in that tank of a man to not put you on the countertops and. i mean what omg lol. but he’ll also love up on you if you ever get self conscious about stretch marks, reassuring you it just adds to your perfections.

alejandro vargas is a slut for your thighs, sorry. the way they’re like the foundation of your body’s shape drives him insane. especially if you’re going out to an event and decide to wear a risqué dress, exposing the plush skin to everybody there. when you get home he’ll make sure to teach you a lesson.

rudy parra loves massaging your thighs. you’re not sure how it started. whenever he gets home from a particularly rough mission or if he just needs intimate time with you, he’ll make you lay down and allow him to massage them. it’s stress relieving for both you and him. rudy can’t help himself, not his fault your build is perfect.

I think soap would make really good glitter bombs and it pisses off everyone. He uses black glitter for Simon :)

I'm feeling bored and want to be more consistent with posting every day/ every other day so...