🫧Miri🩷

21 She/Her Requests OPEN 🔞MDNI🔞 CoD sideblog

[slippery-soapster]

Introduction/Rules

Heyy everyone! This is a blog for CoD Task Force 141!

🔞WARNING: THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG SO MDNI!!! Read at your own risk.🔞

REQUESTS OPEN

Who I write for:

Captain Price

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Johnny “Soap” Mactavish

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Alejandro Vargas

What I’m happy to write:

Fluff

Smut (I’ll write most kinks other than the ones listed below- so just ask! <3)

Angst/hurt

Comfort

Fem!, Gn! Readers

Ddlg/regression safe space <3

What I DONT write:

R@pe/non-con (Somno/dub-con is fine)

Skat/watersports

Bleeding (period is absolutely fine though)

[brokenbough]

I had to get this off of my chest, it's pure fluff and annoying!reader (according to Simon)

------------

Thonk

Simon turned to the side, looking at the new recruit on his shoulder. Your head had fallen onto his shoulder, using him like a pillow.

Simon wasn't happy about this new predicament in the slightest, especially not after Soap had taken a picture of it like it was a spectacle to behold.

It was incredibly disrespectful to use your commanding officer like a pillow, let alone Ghost. But you didn't care. Not in the slightest.

Well, it didn't seem like you cared much as you slept, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, eyebrows drawn closer as if you were having a bad dream.

He tried to move you off of him, shaking his shoulder, your shoulder. Nothing worked. You slept heavy, something condemnable in the military. Sleeping heavy meant you weren't alert, aware. Bad for business in all the wrong ways.

He called for your name, your rank, but nothing worked. You were out cold and using him for warmth.

He decided he'd deal with it when he landed. In 6 hours.

------------

2 hours passed and you were still out cold. Then 3 and 4.

Soap was up now, laughing his ass off again, waking up Gaz and Price who also seemed more than amused. The mission was clearly exhausting for you. It was your first, it didn't surprise the older and more experienced men around you, but it was still a sight to see.

Simon was pissed.

Had he stayed completely still during that entire time? Yes. Did he enjoy any second of it? Absolutely not.

Somehow, you had wiggled one of your arms under his, holding onto his bicep.

Then, you had the audacity to smile. Your eyebrows no longer drawn or lips parted. They were now pulled softly to each side of your rosy cheeks as you muttered. He almost asked you to repeat it before it before it registered.

"That's nice." You had said, nuzzling closer to him as if he was something soft enough to nuzzle.

Your smile had become dizzying to him as the words pingponged inside his head.

That's nice.

Nice? Him? Nice?

It was laughable at best, damning at worst.

He tried waking you up multiple times throughout the flight. A series of taps on your shoulder to shaking you. You just mumbled some jumble before squeezing his arm softly, smiling, and heading right back to dreamland.

You clung to him the rest of the flight, smiling that stupid smile as you relished in his warmth, melting into his side.

The plane landed and everyone moved off except for the two of you. Him against his will, and you against his side.

You stayed there for another hour before finally waking up.

You were teased about it relentlessly when you both returned to base and chewed out for almost an hour by Ghost himself.

------------

Weeks passed before the next incident that got you your callsign: Thorn.

On a mission in the cold and infamous Russia, you had fallen into a river the team had been crossing. Rushing to the safe house, your clothes were quickly pulled from your body as you shook violently. Ghost, ever the bigger man of the group, was tasked with warming you by the fire. He held you, yelled at you to keep your eyes open, and wrapped you up in his warmth.

You finally got over your mild case of hypothermia before falling into a deep sleep again. This time on top of him. You curled into his side, pushing your small feet between his legs to warm them before nuzzling into his chest.

It was more than embarrassing the next morning as your clothes were handed to you.

"Twice in two months." Soap teased, watching your face turn red at the raggedy dinner table the equally raggedy safe house had to offer. "Should I be expecting another next month?" He asked with wiggly eyebrows.

You shoved his face away, going to apologize to Ghost who was on watch.

The conversation was short and curt, him sending you off with calling you a proper thorn in his side.

Gaz joined in on the teasing, calling you Thorn, and the dreadful, fluster inducing name stuck.

------------

Unfortunately for the reputation of the Big Bad Ghost, it didn't take long before he had come to crave the heat you offered on his side.

Sitting next to drowsy you, or being forced to when all the seats were taken, had become a past time of his and Soap and Gaz were eating it up.

They had a hefty collection of photos of each encounter (that they caught) by the time Christmas came along. Ghost should have known it was trouble when Gaz and Soap had given you two a present together in the lounge room where the celebration was taking place. You, ever the naive, had just been happy and honored to get a present from two of your favorite people.

The groan that echoed throughout the room was loud enough that you could hear a pin drop in the aftermath.

Everyone had stopped to look at a pink faced you and a more than unamused Ghost as a roll of film was pulled from a decorated box. The bastards had taped every Polaroid picture together and it rolled out like loose toilet paper.

Everyone, except you and Ghost, laughed as the pictures were examined. It, more often than not, included a sleeping you and an angry Simon giving a death glare to the photographer. On a rare occasion in the collection of photos, there would be a photo of you and Ghost, huddled up together, asleep.

🖤🩶🤍

[slippery-soapster]

Soo I’m currently recovering from having my appendix removed hence the lack of writing, but I’d really love some fluff TF141 recs if anyone has anything??

Thank you!!

[porcelain-dolls-wreched-hearts]

Y'all ever wondered what it would be like when Simon sees your big round tits and wants to milk 'em?

Warning: breastfeeding kink (or something like that, idk)

I mean the guy never got a good up bringing. Not much of maternal love for him either. So now that he is grown up, his ways of finding that kind of love in his partner is...twisted. Like, he'll randomly stand behind you when you are cooking and start to fondle your tits without warning. He keeps squeezing and massaging your supple chest until your nipples are pointing and aching to be suckled on.

You refuse to let him suckle though. It's embarrassing. I mean, come on, it feels weird to let him do that when you see how he keeps looking at your chest like a creep. You keep refusing him for sometime, he is just so persistent about it. But then, he stops trying to convince you finally and you think that everything's fine, right?

But in the next course of week, your breasts start to swell and ache. By the second week, the nipples start to ache for some release but you're not sure why. It just aches all over. You massage them but end up getting overstimulated from your already sensitive tits. By the third week, you begin to leak droplets of milk, staining your bra and t-shirt. You don't know how it happened or how to stop it. But the longer you don't let the milk out, the more it aches. You don't have any other choice but to tell Simon everything.

Simon, he listens carefully and suggests, "how about I suck it out a little, Lovie?"

You feel shy but give in to the suggestion anyways. And oh boy! Simon laches on to your tits the moment you nod to let him begin. He has lifted your shirt and bra up, his one hand rubbing your one tit while the his mouth is sucking on your other tit. He drinks your milk like a man starved. He hums in the ecstasy of it all. It only got more agressive when he heard you whimpering and moaning softly.

By the time simon was done, you did feel a little relieved.

Little did you know, it was all Simon's doing to make you lactate by mixing lactation drugs in your food just so you come to him willingly and he gets to suck your tits full of milk.

A/n: i don't know what this is or whatever

[gloomwitchwrites]

Calling the 141 guys by their rank while you're being intimate 😈

You're making me horny, anon. And well, I started a new ADHD medication. Libido has returned and it's turning me fucking feral.

MDNI below the break (x female reader)

John coming home after a long deployment always means one thing: free use. That free use comes with a catch. You’re John’s brood mare. A wife to breed. The man keeps you in bed, relentlessly fucking you, murmuring how he’s going to get you pregnant. He fucks deep, and hard, taking care that every drop of cum stays in that sweet cunt. Soreness follows after a few rounds. Overstimulation comes next. Pressing your heels into the backs of his calves, you urge John on. A name. His rank. Moaned from your lips. It sets him off, fucking you until you think the bed might break.

It’s Johnny’s turn to bottom. To lay on his back. Arms behind his head. Cock jutting into the air. You bring him into your mouth. Make him groan. Straddle his lap and ease down on him. You have no softness in you. Only teeth. Placing your hands on his chest, you use the leverage to bounce on his cock. And with a teasing voice, Sergeant MacTavish, you have him coming, blowing his load early as you devilishly smile.

Kyle has you on your back on the sofa. Top on but pushed up to your armpits. Bare breasts on full display. He sucks on your nipples. His hand between your thighs and fingering your pussy. Kyle only pauses to kiss you. It’s all scorching tongue. You taste yourself on his lips. Placing your hands at the back of his neck, you moan. My sergeant. You fuck me so good. The orgasm hits hard, sending you reeling. A quick shift and you’re on your stomach, cheek pressed into the sofa cushion, ass in the air. Kyle places his hand on the side of your head, impaling you with his cock.

Arguments boil Simon’s blood. Turns him feral. Makes him hungry. Unfinished or not, you’re removing your panties and taking his cock. You’re just as seething as he is. Calling him names. Flipping him off. Even when you’re pinned to the bed, his hand on your neck, you’re all anger. That’s all you got, Lieutenant Riley? It’s a growl. A challenge. There’s blood on your lips from when you bit him. Tongue swirling around his mouth, Simon spits on your clit.

[slippery-soapster]

CW: smut, softdom!simon, dubcon(?), MDNI🔞

Inspired by a fic from @blueniversal check them out their writing is amazing!! <3

Being half asleep in the early morning, it was still dark outside. Ghosts large hands holding your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“C’mon, baby..” his voice would grumble softly, his erection moving against your backside, “gonna le’ me in, ye?” All he managed to get was a hum or two in response.

Moving your panties aside, his fingers would massage deeply into your core; managing a quiet moan out of you. “Oh, tha’s it.” He groaned, “thought you’d be wet. You wanna make daddy feel good, ye baby?” He’d continue.

Your sleepy nodding was all he needed as the green light, taking off his own underwear. The head of his cock slowly pushes against your tight core.

“Sii~” you’d whimper. He was massive. And thick.

“Shh, baby,” he’d soothe, “you can take it. You always do.” His hands wandered your body in a loving manner, helping you relax.

“I’ve got you. Daddy’s here, hold my hand, angel.” He’d reassure, letting you grip onto his calloused hand. “Big deep breaths..” he’d groan as he inserted, “that’s my good girlll.. such a good girl.” Ghost praised over and over.

“Feel me in your tummy, baby?” He’d chuckle softly. You’d nod. A moaning mess beneath him, just how he liked you.

“My favourite girl.”

[slippery-soapster]

Toxic price x f!reader

CW: SMUT, MDNI, toxic!price x f!reader, language, degradation, price is just basically a sex hungry asshole

Price had a sugar baby, and that sugar baby was you. Not everyone knew about the dynamic, or that he even had a girl- let alone one basically half his age.

There you were like most weekend days, straddling him in his office chair and using all your energy to bounce.

“Fuck- oh, that’s it,” price groaned audibly. His hands were running all over your body; in your hair, down your back, squeezing your thighs, and often between your legs where he rapidly played with your clit, making you arch into him.

Price slapped your ass firmly, like you were some kind of race horse, “c’mon bunny, don’t quit now,” he’d growl against the shell of your ear.

Your mouth was agape, eyes barely open. You were lost in the symphony of him and all you could hear was him: “keep going,” “don’t you dare slow down,” “c’mon, make daddy proud.” He’d demand, each comment paired with a groan, his panting, or the heavenly squelch that echoed from your connected parts.

“Such a fucking whore,” he labelled you while groping your breasts. He started to thrust up into you . Hard. “All you’re good for is a good fuck, yeah?” He’d chuckle darkly, “just spending my money like it’s nobody’s business, yeah? Fucking slut.”

“All you are is just a dumb bitch, with the sweetest fucking cunt.”

The worst part about this? You loved it.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[superhoeva]

vacation!john price makes the most of his time off by folding you–the pretty thing he caught staring at his rental boat–in half so he can come inside you nearly every night. he's bending your legs in ways you didn't know possible, pushing your thighs to your chest so he can see the mess you're leaking around him. sometimes, if he's lucky, the light will catch you just right, the man to grunting and cooing at the shining ring of cream at the base of his cock.

"f-fuck, you're deep... feels... feels good." your praise comes out as a stuttering, slurred mess. "really fuckin'–oh, god–s'good."

"christ... s'too bad holiday's almost done, dove." john groans out the reminder, a touch of sad slipping in just under the puffs of pleased breaths. you whine at the hand he presses onto your belly, the sound and sight distracting john, who just tilts his head with pride in his grin. "oh, fuckin' looook a'that, huh. think i might have'ta take ya back home with me... would be a shame ta let a face 'n hole as pretty as yours get away too easy, wouldn't it?"

all you can do is gush and slosh around john as he keeps stuffing himself inside you. holding your knees and puckering your lips every few thrusts so he'll rub his hairy front against your chest and belly every time he bends to kiss you.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[tojisteddy]

[persephone-has-fallen]

"Have you got a hole in your pants, Bonnie?"

"What?" You stand up from where you'd been digging in the pantry, and run a hand over the back of your leggings. "Do I?"

"Come here, I'll take a look."

Shrugging, you go and stand in front of the couch where your husband is planted before bending over for inspection. After a few seconds of appreciative silence, your brain finally processes the situation you find yourself in.

"There... isn't a hole, is there?"

His voice is low, and rougher than the first time he spoke. "I could make one."

[somnambuletta]

the baby is a mess.

a glorious, strawberry-stained, unapologetically chaotic mess.

chubby fists full of crushed fruit, cheeks stained red like a tiny dionysus on a sugar high. the kid is perched in the front of a shopping trolley, squealing with unfiltered joy as she squishes another berry against her lips and then—perhaps in a fit of generosity—smears it into her father's shirt. you coo.

coo, like something soft and maternal has cracked open inside you, and simon watches it happen in real time—watches you light up like you’ve just witnessed the first sunrise in human history. “oh my god,” you whisper, slowing your pace beside him. “look at her. look at her face.”

simon is already looking.

he can’t not look.

that baby is a walking portrait of everything he doesn’t have and everything he’s been trying not to want.

the pink sneakers with velcro straps. the milk-drunk eyes. the chubby elbow rolls. the cartoon rabbit on her bib, now stained a bloody red from berry carnage. she's a masterpiece of mess and joy, and simon’s knees suddenly feel like they've gone soft.

he’s staring. hard.

“si,” you tease, nudging him. “don’t gawk.”

“'m not gawkin',” he lies, mouth dry. “just… watchin’. 'lil gremlin’s got a good arm.”

as if to prove point, the baby flings half a strawberry across the market lane with frightening accuracy. it lands near the produce stall. she shrieks with delight.

you laugh. and something in simon cracks.

he can see it, clear as anything: your laugh at the kitchen table, a baby in your lap, sticky fingers tugging at your shirt, the sound of little feet slapping down the hall in the morning.

simon's not just looking at a baby.

he’s looking at a blueprint for the life he’s never let himself build.

and suddenly, he wants it so badly he could scream. “bloody hell,” he mutters, turning away like the sight physically pains him. “she’s killin’ me.”

you tilt your head. “what’s that, soldier?”

he looks at you with the wide, haunted eyes of a man on the edge. “i want one.”

you blink. “a strawberry?”

“no,” he rasps. “a baby.”

[flofaiiry]

simon loves everything you do during sex. when you clench your cunt around his cock and make him see stars, the pretty noises you make as he stretches you open on two thick fingers, the way you taste when you gush all over his tongue- everything.

but his favourite thing? when you scratch down his back while he's pounding you into the mattress. the way you desperately claw at his shoulders as he shoves his cock deep inside you. he's reaching places you didn't know could be reached and you need to grab onto something- anything to cope with the overwhelming pleasure he's bringing you.

the first time you did it he was caught off guard, his hips stuttering in their rhythm as your nails raked along his back, leaving a streak of red irritated flesh in their wake. you noticed the way he hesitated, noticed the groan that left him, and the way he adjusted his pace of his hips against yours.

you force your hands off him, opting to tangle them into the sheets instead. simon scowled- actually looked visibly upset, and a moment later he was grabbing you by the wrist, placing your hand onto his back again. you were confused now- you thought he didn't like it.

you couldn't have been more wrong.

he leans down so his mouth is pressed right next to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "keep doin' that," he groans, tilting your hips so the tip of his cock grinds against the squishy spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back in your head. "keep doin' it and don't you ever fuckin' stop- y'hear me? want you to mark me up, yeah? want everyone to know i fuck you so good you start clawin' at me."

please leave a comment/reblog if u liked this!!! it means the world & keeps me motivated!!! <3

[ihaznoclue]

Keeping your shirt on when having sex with Simon 'I don't care what you look like but I respect you' fucking Riley

18+ Minors do not Interact!

--

"Is it okay If I kept my shirt on" You shyly asked when Simon was about to lift your shirt but gripped his hand. Nervously looking away, waiting for the 'Why not? It's better when you're fully naked for this type of stuff' but instead you heard.

"Yeah we can do that, I don't really mind what you do" He muttered, leaning in to kiss your exposed collarbone. You were a bit surprised that he was going along with it, most guys would just argue with you or just leave.

But Simon didn't care one bit, he respected you and your boundaries. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable when doing something this intimate.

You were sitting on top of him, straddling his hips, your pants were off but your undergarments were still on. Simon was getting a little bit impatient as he let out a rumble of a growl.

"These off. Now." He huffed, his fingers gripped the edge of your undergarments and tugging them off, helping him as you lifted yourself up and moved your legs to get them fully off and on the ground.

"Fuck.." he cursed, looking at you like you were a five star meal. "C'mere love." He lowly whispered, tugging your head down to kiss him.

You let out a little moan as soon as your lip is connected, the kiss was messy and quick. Pulling back breathlessly, your hips started to grind on his thigh.

"That desperate for me huh sweetheart?" He teased, twirling some hair around his finger. You let out a whimper hum, nodding your head. "Please.." You begged.

"Please what baby?" He grinned, his finger caressing your cheek as you let out a moan, "Need you badly.. please" You begged more, your hips come to a stop by his hands gripping onto them.

"Okay pretty girl. You gotta hop off first so I can take these off." He instructs you as you obeyed, moving off his lap as he pulled off his pants and boxers leaving him completely naked in front of you.

"C'mere." He patted his lap, his dick hard on full display which made you nervous of how big he was. Crawling over and straddling him once again, feeling his dick against your thigh.

"Relax love, I can feel you tensing up against me." He bumps his nose against yours, trying to calm you down. "If you want, we can give a safe word if it's too much for you." He softly asks.

You nodded in agreement, "How about.. strawberries?" You said with a smile.

"Sure."

You placed your hands on his chest to balance yourself as you hovered over him, immediately whimpering out a sound as he sunk into you, you are glad that you got wet from all the grinding.

He had a tight grip on your hips, his fingers fiddling with your shirt but not taking it off. Maybe slipping his hands underneath and massaging your hips from underneath.

You let out a breathless moan, sinking more and more down until you met his thighs and hips.

"Breathe baby." He brushes hair away from your face, kisses your cheek and then your nose. "Breathe.."

You took a deep breath in, your legs were already shaking by the amount you were taking of him. His forehead rested against yours as you moaned softly.

"That's it, good girl" He praised, his hands still on your hips as he waited for you to adjust. Waiting patiently for you to move your hips on your own when you felt like moving.

A few seconds later, you started to rock your hips back and forth, causing both of you to moan lowly together. Letting out a breathless chuckle as Simon kissed around your face.

His kisses started to travel down your collarbone, moving your shirt a little down to reveal parts of your chest, giving it little nips as you now started to ride him. "That's it baby, ride me like you mean it." He purrs.

You let out a choked moan, trying your hardest to not be as loud. Biting your lip as you rode him.

"Let me hear you.. please, let me hear you" He wined to which surprised you, the big scary ghost man begging to hear your pretty little sounds come out of your mouth.

Letting you mouth fall open as you let out breathless moans when he hits all your sweet spots as you continue to ride him. His hand trailing everywhere on your body, sending slight tingles down your body.

"That's it.. let me hear you when you ride my cock - Fuck -" Simon stutters.

After a few more minutes, your legs started to get tired, shaking from exhaustion. You weren't as flexible when spreading your legs around Simon's waist, I mean he is a big fella after all.

Simon seems to have noticed, "You tired baby.." You nodded, "Yeah.. Let me take care of you." Suddenly your body was gently pushed down, now laying on your back on the tussled sheets.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he was still inside you, now he could you on a good angle. You could feel how close he was, his body covering you as you raked his back was your nails.

"Si -" You whimpered out his name, clenching around him. "You close pretty girl? Yeah?" He purrs, in a silly teasing tone, his grunts and groans filling up your ears.

His hand trailed down your legs and lifted it on his shoulder as you squealed at the sudden angle, continuing to fuck you harder.

"Fuck!-" You cursed loudly, grabbing onto his biceps now to steady yourself. You felt the bed shaking beneath you as he thrusted, his cock now kissing your cervix.

"Ah - Shit baby - Feel you are clenching on me.. cum for me love" He mutters beside your ear.

Your head sinking more into the sheets as you moved one of your hand to grip onto the sheet next to you as you felt yourself getting closer. Your tummy feels hotter and tighter.

"Si.. I'm close - " You moaned. Simon smirked "Then cum for me pretty girl."

Finally the tide washed over you, Simon could feel you clench around him as you came undone. His thrust started to get sloppy and slower, realizing that he was close.

"Fuck -- ah shit" He grunts, giving one last heavy thrust into you as he released himself.

Both of you were sweaty and hot, Simon leaning down to give you a soft and gentle kiss, praising you of how good you were for him. Then laying his head in the crook of your neck as he litters it with gentle kisses.

Letting out a whine, Simon pulls out causing you to whimper at the loss. "You're okay." Simon shushes you.

Sitting up once Simon pulled out as you felt the liquid leaking out of you, Simon then came back with a towel and cleaned you up.

Simon gave your forehead a little kiss, "You did such a good job sweetheart."

[rawme-price]

Price wakes up to a cold space beside him in bed, and muffled thumping downstairs.

It takes him longer than it should to register that you should still be in bed next to him, mind running slow off the field. He opens the door to his bedroom, and stills when he hears voices drifting up the staircase.

"John doesn't need to know." You whisper to your companion, and price freezes. His whole world does, suddenly the only thing that matters is the voices through the wall.

The second voice speaks and–

He knows that voice. Mactavish. It's quieter than you, but without a hint of shame "cap will find out. Ye cannae hide this from him."

Price creeps closer, grabbing his gun from the little table you insist be next to the stairs, hand on the doorknob as you sigh "but you're just so much better than him. You know exactly what I need."

The door bangs open, you yelp as price sweeps the room, searching for soap. You gape at john as he starts checking every room downstairs, "john! John, what are you doing?! You should be asleep!"

"What?" Price turns to you now, gun left on the coffee table so he doesn't do anything stupid "so you can go crawl to mactavish? Get what you really need because he does it better? Sneaking off in the middle of the night like I didn't have you screaming my name–"

"Fuckin' christ, price!" A voice cuts through. John whips his head around, expecting to see soap. Only...no ones there. The voice continues, coming...from the phone on the table "do ye really have no trust in me?! Ahm' not suicidal, an' that isn't what's happening!"

"...oh. you thought I was– with him– no! God, no!" You gasp when you realize exactly what john though was happening, face twisting in disgust. You grab price by the jaw, and turn his face to look at the room he's in "notice anything."

No...no way.

"You rearranged the furniture without asking my opinion??" He sounds genuinely heart broken, but can't keep the relieved smile off his face.

"John, you have the decorative skills of a rock." You place a peck to his cheek. "Since you're up...help me move the couch?"

...price refuses to admit the room does look better afterwards.

[pickyourgutsoffthefloor]

Price calling cards and loading screens

As per request here is what i could find with Price :D

Calling cards

MWII

Task Force 141

The Thief

Forest Price

The Light at the End

Price

Unspent Shells

The Gang's All Here

Intel Recon

MWIII

Deadliest Cold - Price to the right

Winter Patrol

Into The Sunset - I think this may be Price

Loading screens

MWII

Targets On The Ridge

Standing Guard

Graphic Price

Bullet Dodger

Point Attacker

Tall Grass

Smoke Break

Mustachioed

Dead Eyes

The Captain

Flick

Squad Prep - They are so cute

We Are Leaving!

MWIII

Chill Ops

Toon Force 141

Emblems

Stickers

I'm already at the 30 pictures limit D: There was a few more pictures with Price, but since i don't have space in this post, i prioritized getting the best ones.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

YOU. WILL. WRITE. oh you want to write so bad. all the motivation is here. the plot is so good. words come to you so naturally. YOU ARE GOING TO WRITE. RIGHT NOW.

[silverlullabies]

Imagine you’re just out walking your dog, hood up, earbuds in, having a nice little stroll like a normal person.

And then there’s pounding footsteps behind you, a hand snatching the back of your jacket, and suddenly you’re yanked off your feet and hauled backwards against a stranger’s chest. There’s a gun jammed up under your chin and some asshole is kicking at your dog.

Your dog- your rescue dog- bolts, leash slipping from your fingers, and the blind panic that hits you has nothing to do with the weapon under your jaw or the group of very armed men who suddenly appear in front of you barking orders.

“Put the gun down!”

“Let them go!”

“Hands where I can see them!”

There are like, a plethora of different voices shouting, guns raised, tension sky high, and all your brain can process is: oh my god this is going to set him back so bad in his recovery.

You’re squirming in this guy’s grip, not because of the gun, but because you are furious. that’s your baby. your abused, soft-eyed, loud-noises-are-still-scary baby.

The shouting ramps up, your annoyance ramps up with it, and finally you just snap, throw your head back and slam your skull into your kidnapper’s nose.

He screeches, his arm jerks, there’s a deafening crack of gunfire from someone in front of you, and a hot spray of blood hits your face as the guy drops. You slip in it, hit the ground hard, ears ringing.

And all you can think is: oh my god my dog is definitely freaking the fuck out somewhere.

You’re probably a little in shock because your survival instincts are nonexistent. instead of crawling for cover, you suck in a breath and start yelling at the top of your lungs. “GHOST! GHOST, COME HERE, BOY! IT’S OKAY, YOU’RE SAFE! MOMMY’S OKAY!”

The armed men in front of you actually jerk back in surprise.

You scramble to your feet, still wobbling, spinning in circles as you cup your hands around your mouth.

“GHOST! COME HERE, BABY! IT’S OKAY, SWEETHEART, YOU’RE SAFE, MOMMY’S RIGHT HERE! ”

“Uh… Ghost?” one of the men asks carefully.

You whirl toward him, wild eyed. “Yeah, that’s my fucking dog. My good boy who has been doing so well in his recovery from being an abuse victim, and now his progress is probably going to backslide because some jackass decided to play hostage taker- GHOST! C’MERE MY WITTLE BABY BOY, MOMMY WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU- ”

Three of the soldiers are doing that nervous side eye thing at the fourth one- a hulking mountain of a guy in a skull mask- who has gone absolutely, completely still with a very real, very noticeable bulge forming in his cargo pants.

You, meanwhile, are still cupping your hands and cooing into the empty street:

“Ghoooost, baby, it’s okay! Mommy’s okay! Come to mama, my brave, handsome boy!”