#mace (cod) x reader

[jnw1813]

In a poly-Tac scenario I like to imagine you're flipping through photo albums of the guys and you discover things that fill in the blanks.

Like König? The first few pages of him as a teen/young man are of him all shy and flustered and sweet, a photo of his graduation, him with a study group (head ducked, trying to hide behind his curls), multiple photos of him and his mother...

And then you get to the photos of him after a few years of service.

Confidence practically oozes off the pages. Photos of him going out drinking, playing pool or a drinking games. Then you flip a page and– well.

Turns out König went to both gay and kink bars. Photos of him wearing leather straps across his bare chest as he makes out with past flings, him progressively getting older in them, more confident, self-assured, until you're staring at your colonel, just a few years before he settled and calmed down with all of you.

Horangi finds you gaping at the book, chuckling and passing you his photo album.

Now he started off wild. His graduation photo is literally placed next to one of him sitting in– presumably– a strip club, two girls kissing him, lipstick smears all over his face, looking like he won the lottery; an after party for him and his then-friends, most likely.

The next few pages carry the same air. Young, free, always dressed well and enjoying himself. Then there's a jump, going from pre military to a few years into his career. He looks calmer in these, more settled. Plenty of him in nature, or at a cat cafe, or printed out selfies of him in different environments. A complete contrast to that party boy of his youth.

Mace joins you on the couch, passing you his.

Photos of him as a kid to his teen years, it's funny seeing how similar yet different these versions of him are. Him skateboarding with friends, him clearly doing a cool move while breakdancing (form slightly blurred at the edges as he spun on his palm), a few of him with his family...

It doesn't change much as he enters the military. Still candid, him existing, a slight smile when he catches sight of the camera. While he has changed over the years, it's mostly been in small ways compared to the other two, like Mace has always known who he was and hasn't seen a need to change.

Nikto's is... sad. Childhood photos, him as a teenager, young adult– and then abruptly, it stops. The last photo is of him before his torture, the scarring. These are all of Andre, not Nikto.

(Nikto is caught off guard when you suddenly begin taking more photos of him, pulling him into frame and snapping shot after shot, printing them out and adding them to the album.

Just because he was different didn't mean he wasn't living a life anymore, didn't mean there shouldn't be proof of it.)

Krueger settles in with you, passing his album over. Again, it starts off with his early life, but the older he gets, the more scenic photos are mixed in. He's always had an eye for photography, so it's no surprise when his photo album includes more environmental shots and shots of all of you instead. He'd captured many a moment between his lovers, printing them out and adding them all neat inside the book. Most of these you didn't even know he'd taken! But it was nice, knowing these moments were eternalised like this.

You were still going to get more photos of him, though.

[mausinly]

The urge to make one-sided love/rejection angst with Mace x reader is so strong.

[jnw1813]

*sucks teeth* doll collector reader, right?

You love all kinds of dolls. The stuffed kind, the porcelain kind, even the wooden ones. Baby dolls, fluffy animals, creepy dolls. Even those old racist ones you take in, put in a glass case to be preserved, donated to museums when you find one that'll take them.

You love all dolls and think that, no matter what they look like or their origin, they should be preserved for one reason or another.

One day while browsing an antique shop, you find a pair of soldier dolls, made from felt and something heavier. One is a white man, the other black. Both wearing a skull shaped mask. Quite old too, from around the 70s.

You buy them, taking them home with you happily.

And as was your tradition, that very first night you brought them home, they got to share your bed with you. One placed on either side of your bed so that as you tossed and turned in your sleep, they'd get equal amount of cuddling.

You fall asleep content, alone, sprawled out.

When you wake up though, you're squished, pressed between two somethings, and it's hot. You reach out, feeling whatever you were pressed against.

Solid. Warm. Squishy.

Hand patting lower, you suddenly heard a chuckle in your ear.

"Bit forward, ey, love?"

Your eyes snapped open, hand pulled back immediately. You stared at the man in your bed, light skinned and blond and with that... skull mask...

And then you felt a presence at your back as well.

"Morning, sugar." A low voice whispered in your ear, a heavy palm settling on your hip. "Sleep well?"

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw what you suspected already.

Dark skin, scale-like scars, another skull mask.

"H-how?" You ask, flustered and confused as the dolls you bought yesterday pressed against you, keeping you between them.

"Does it matter? You've got two blokes in your bed." The first said, playfully tugging on your hair.

"Yeah, and they're really interested in getting to know you." The second said, kissing behind your ear.

... you just hoped this wouldn't happen to the rest of your dolls.

[jnw1813]

Mace is sound asleep when he's shaken awake.

Jolting up, he looks around quickly, military training kicking in. He searches for any threats and, once he spots none, he relaxes, groaning as he rubs his face and rolls over to face you.

"Sug, what...?" He glanced at the time. 04:37. Jesus. "Why did you wake me up?"

You shift a bit, holding your phone. "I was hungry and was gonna order something. You want anything?"

He blinks at you, disbelief coating his face.

"... you goddamn big back bit– babe, darlin, it's four in the fucking morning. It's– it's stupid o'clock, and you wanna eat?" He asks incredulously, rubbing his face.

You just shrug, completely unashamed. "I woke up. My belly was cramping. And I felt weak. I wasn't about to fall back asleep.

"Now, do you want anything or no?"

Mace stared at the ceiling for a bit.

"... where you ordering from?"

Fifteen minutes later, Mace sits beside you in bed, lamps on, a towel set over his lap as he eats a burger with you. He shoots you an occasional mock-judgemental look as you eat three burgers and a large fries.

Eh.

He'd always liked someone with a big appetite.

[jnw1813]

if I were Mace's housewife I'd send him to work with the best meals I could.

It's lunchtime and they're all sitting together, some with trays filled with cafeteria meals and others with homemade lunches.

Mace is one of them.

As he pulls out the large box conversation lulls a bit, everybody eyeing it like it's a mystery box– and in a way, it was. Everyday Mace would come in with a brand new meal made by you, his spouse.

"So, what's it today?" Krueger asks, fork spinning through the pasta on his plate.

Mace opens it up, grinning. Nikto leans over, sniffing as steam wafts off the meal.

"What is that." Horangi asks, staring at the slices of chicken, looking crisp and fried, a glisten to them as they sat nestled on rice, bits of chopped up veggies in it.

Mace grins. "My lady/mister likes experimenting. This is their tobasco sauce, honey, and brown sauce mix." He says, taking a bite. Immediately, his tongue is assualted with a mix of sweet and spicy chicken. "Sometimes they'll even give me lil... pouches of 'em, cut up a bit of chicken and out extra sauce inside." He says, poking through his food to see if he's got any. He finds one, and with a smug grin aimed at his jealous group, bites into it, sauce dripping out.

The others share looks, pretending not to be jealous. Silently, they all wondered if they could get some of that for themselves. Maybe if they came over and helped with something? Didn't Mace mention you wanted to fix up the basement...?

[jnw1813]

im quite obsessed with Mace, so im hoping you’re able to write something about Mace baby trapping fem!reader in order to keep her for himself :)

-sgt

I hope this turned out well! I've never written babytrapping before (though I've thought about it) and it's been a while since I did a request.

Nsfw/18+ | Sex, babytrapping, birth control tampering, toxic but not too toxic Mace, obsession/possessiveness.

Obsession is a funny thing. On it's own, it's ruinous, dangerous. But when it's paired with real, true love...

It becomes the driving force behind every crazy action, the motivation that drives one to do anything to make their love happy, to keep them, to get what they want.

And what Mace wants is something to tie you and him together permanently.

He loves you, but marriage just isn't gonna cut it, not when divorce is an option, and while he is far gone enough to do this, he isn't too far gone that he'll hurt you if discontent brews in your marriage. He's not that crazy. He just... loves you. So, so much that it hurts.

There have been nights while he's been deployed or stayed on base where all he could think about was you, you, you– an itch in his gums and in his fingers to get ahold of you and claim you once more. Your name becomes a prayer and your memory his sweet escape. There have been times he's stroked himself to the thought of you, over and over until he was sensitive and raw, belly a mess as he whined for you, a pitiful creature that was nothing with his wife, his sugar.

The name truly suited you, sweet as candy and just as addictive. From the very first time he'd tasted you, Mace was a goner.

Which was why he was currently in the bathroom putting holes in all the condoms.

After weeks of suggesting it, you'd finally come off of your pills, Mace's arguments that they messed with your hormones and mind ringing true. Plus, he'd whispered, why do you need them when we can just use a rubber? Huh? Give it a thought, sug...

And just like he thought you would, you stopped taking your pills, making the switch to condoms only.

It had been a struggle to hold off on his plan at first. He'd wanted to immediately knock you up, but that would've been suspicious. No, Mace needed to play things smart. So for a few weeks, he used normal, untampered-with condoms, fucking you hard and good as often as possible, getting you used to them so that, when you fell pregnant, you wouldn't immediately say you knew this would happen or jump to accusations.

Accidents happened, of course. So if 'one' condom out of a couple dozen happened to be busted... well, what could you even say? Nothing, that's what. Just an accident. A small coincidence. Especially if it happened to occur during your ovulation week. Definitely happenstance. It's not like Mace keeps track or anything.

Really, it's just an unfortunate... happy... little accident.

You sure weren't complaining when Mace was on top of you, drilling into you just how he knew you liked; you didn't mind when he pressed a thumb to your clit and drove you to climax after climax, not even noticing the cum filling you. You just assumed any cream coating his dick was your own, just more proof of how good he was in bed.

You didn't think to question any of it. Not the warmth filling you. Not the milky, sticky mess. Not even his increased libido, taking you at every opportunity he could.

After all, each act of intercourse only had a 15-20% chance of actually impregnating you. Too low for him to risk.

By the time his next mission was assigned to him, Mace was sure you were carrying his little one.

That belief was confirmed when he came back a couple weeks later, when you sat him down and showed him a positive pregnancy test.

"I don't know how this happened. I mean, if a condom broke, we would've noticed, right?" And oh, you look so cute like that, looking up at him while worrying your bottom lip.

"Mmm-hmm. Yeah, we would've, sug." He says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, rubbing your arm. "Maybe... it was your birth control? I mean, pills aren't a 100% guarantee either. Sometimes they fail." He suggests easily, watching you consider it. In the meantime, he looks at the pregnancy test, eyeing those two lines like he'd just won the fucking lottery.

And in a way, he had.

Because what woman, in this day and age, was going to leave a man whilst pregnant? You depended on him so much already. He payed for mostly everything.

How would you pay for this baby? The clothes, diapers, toys? The hospital fee?

You couldn't.

So absolutely any thoughts of ever leaving him were well and truly gone now. You needed him. You were tied to him, the little clump of cells in your belly making sure you'd always be his, one way or another.

"... do you want an abortion?" Mace asks, because if he jumps immediately into daddy mode, you might get frightened, feel like you have to do this. And for all the bad in him, Mace never wants you to feel forced.

You pause. "I don't... do you want a baby?" You ask quietly, reaching for his hand. "It's a lot of responsibility, and we never talked about–"

"Sug, sugar, hey," he cups your face, cradles it in his large hands until you're entirely focused on him. "There is nothing in this world I want more, okay? I'd love to start a family with you." *So much so he couldn't even wait for you to agree.*

Mace watches you swallow, gaze distant as you mulled it over before, slowly, you smiled.

"Well... okay, then! We– we're going to have a baby." You say, and Mace definitely isn't imagining that hint of excitement in your voice.

Relief fills him, because now you want this baby, you want his baby, and you're already talking about all the things they have to do before the baby arrives while Mace tugs you into his lap, squeezing you tight, possessive.

One of his hands rub at your still-flat belly, already imagining when you'd be big and round, ankles swollen, barefooted...

Unable to run...

Listening to you with love in his eyes, Mace smiles, knowing you're never going to be separated from him now.

[jnw1813]

There's a baby crying nextdoor.

It immediately alarms you, pushing you towards the windows to try and spot it.

It's weird, because the sounds are coming from your neighbour Marcel's– "Call me Mace"– house, and he doesn't have a kid.

... you try not to worry.

You fail.

Heading on over with a taser in your pocket, you knock three times before it's yanked open, your neighbour looking stressed with a squalling infant in his arms.

"Hey– I'm sorry, now's not a–"

"Where did this come from?" You ask, speaking in a soft tone. You coo, the baby whimpering.

He swallows, rubbing his face tiredly. "I, uh, my ex– I didn't even know she was pregnant, she just– showed up and gave her to me and I don't know what I'm doing–"

"Hey, hey," you calmed him gently, rubbing his scarred arm. "It's okay. Everything is gonna be fine. Now, what's the problem? What do you need?"

He swallows, wavering for a moment before he answers.

He lists off everything he's done and you nod along. Finally, you say:

"Have you tried pressing her to your skin?"

He stares at you, confused. So you explain.

"Babies do well with skin to skin contact. It also allows her to listen to your heart. It'll soothe her. I mean, it worked for my kid." You smiled weakly, not sure if your suggestion would work.

But Mace just nodded, stepping back into his house. He pulls his shirt off, adjusting his daughter to lay against his pec, skin warm and heart beating steadily under ear.

She quiets down almost immediately, and he smiles in disbelief.

"It actually– oh god, thank you, you're a–"

Waving him off, you nod, smiling at the sight. "No need. Now, I'll be off. Call me if you need anything else, but I need to make sure my kid hasn't climbed on to the fridge again."

Mace gives you a weird look.

"... it happens. Just wait until that one starts walking, then you'll see!"

You go back over later on after making sure your son hadn't put himself in life threatening danger for the nth time this week.

Kids, amiright?

Anyway, with your son balanced on your hip, you head over to Mace's, carrying a bag with you.

"You again!" He says in a hushed tone. "Sorry, that sounded less delighted then I intended it to."

You waved him off, quietly stepping inside and– ah, asleep. Of course. Never make noise when baby was asleep. Number one rule right there.

You head on over to his kitchen, aware he was following you curiously. Your son, thankfully, is a quiet one, so all he does is look around and chew on his thumb.

"Since you said she was just dropped on you with no prior warning," you began, quiet as you began unpacking the bag, "I thought I'd bring you some baby stuff."

Mace gives you a beyond thankful look as he takes in the baby clothes, unused bottles and pacifiers, some diapers...

"Oh, I can't–"

"Yes, you can." You insist. "I don't need it. He's been potty trained for months now. None of this is useful to me."

And Mace... he doesn't have the words for it. Maybe it's the sleep deprivation but he feels like giving you a big ol' kiss for what you've done.

But that would probably be inappropriate, so he just takes your hand, squeezing gently.

"Thank you."

You smile. "It's no problem. Now... do you need a crib?"

He winces, nodding. "Yeah. She, uh, I've repurposed a washing basket until I could..."

You nod. "I get it. I'll bring it over in a moment."

"No, no, I'll do it–"

"It's really no trouble–"

"Please just let me help–"

As you and Mace quietly argued back and forth, your son toddled over to his fridge and began climbing it.

"Just– oh shit, baby!"

[jnw1813]

The KorTac boys relax by watching you stream Minecraft.

Fluff, established relationship, other characters mentioned, nonbinary Velikan.

He's freshly showered and walking into the common room when he hears a familiar voice.

Head shooting up, Mace stares at the sight before him, taken aback.

Sitting around the tv, his fellow operators were watching a stream on the tv. As he listened in to them talk, Mace surmises that Velikan had put you on, the masked enby always one to end the day by watching something on YouTube. Except this time they had coralled the others into joining them.

Walking over, Mace leans against the back of the couch. "Whatcha'll doing?" He asks, smirking to himself as he watches you play Minecraft, one of your cats in the background.

"Cozy." Nikto mutters drowsily, slightly doped up from the pain meds he'd been given; the Russian kept frog blinking, obviously out of it yet entranced by the 'cozy' gameplay on the screen.

"Ja," König agrees, sprawled out on another couch, legs in Horangi's lap. "Is good. Turns the brain off."

Mace understood that. As soldiers, they saw some fucked up shit out there. As mercenaries, even more-so. So stuff like this was extra enjoyable for them, letting them relax and blank out all the blood and screams and... everything else.

"How long you been watching 'em?" Mace asks casually, glancing at Velikan.

The enby shrugs. "Few months. I like their play style, very..." They think for the word. "Aesthetical? Very whimsical, y'know?"

He did know.

Going to grab his phone, Mace calls you, watching the guys watch you, watching you pause the game to pick up your phone, a big grin on your face.

"Hey, baby!" You say sweetly, the cat's head perking up in the back.

"Heya, sugar." Mace says in response, holding back laughter as heads snap in his direction. "I wanted to check in on you. Stream going well?"

If possible, your demeanor brightens even more as you realise he's watching. Looking at the camera, you blow it a kiss. "Yes, baby. How about you? You alright over there?"

"Mmm-hmm, never been better." Mace says, smirking at the guys. "I won't hold you long, sug, so just take care, yeah? I'll be home tomorrow."

"Yay." You say softly. The guys are giving him incredulous looks, eyes darting back and forth between the screen and him. "I'm looking forward to it. Sleep well, okay, baby?"

"Yeah, you too. Kisses."

Both of you make a kissy noise, then he ends the call.

The room is silent except for the stream continuing.

"... what the fuck." Horangi efficiently states.

Nikto just squints. "Lucky bastard." He mutters. "Earlier, they make you garden in game. You know how sweet that is?"

Mace just gives them all a shit eating grin, already heading to his room. "Very! Maybe if y'all weren't a bunch of freaks y'all would have a partner just as sweet as mine waiting for you at home."

Before he leaves, he can hear Krueger mutter a quiet, "Says the crocodile."