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tips on giving head? I've read a lot of smut, but I'm still very clueless haha

Uuuh, can I write these tips in the form of a fanfiction? Because I'm going to.

"The 141's tips and tricks to the perfect blowjob", or "you ask your squad for pointers because you've never blown anyone and they all get a little too into it."

You go to John first. Captain seems like the best place to start with anything really. The man's been around the block, knows a thing or two. It doesn't help that when you try to casually bring it up in between mission reports he looks at you like you shot his dog.

"What?"

"I asked what men like during blowjobs, sir." You repeat, because... well, in for a penny in for a pound you suppose. He looks at you for a long moment, and dismisses you.

You probably aimed too high on that one. Backup plan.

Soap jumps at the bait immediately. You should've known to go for the dog first. Especially when he pulls you into a broom closet before the words are even out of your mouth.

"Best way to learn is with practice." He tells you, pushing you to your knees with a smile. He's already half hard when he fishes himself out of his pants.

John Mactavish's blowjob tips:

Get messy with it. You work your tongue over him a few times before he leans forwards and spits on his cock himself. The extra slick helps you take the head in your mouth, which in turn makes it easier to bob your head. You can't take much in your mouth, but the pressure against your tongue makes your mouth water. You pull back and spit on his cock when you have too much to swallow.

Use your hands. You catch some of the dripping drool with your fingers and use it as lube to help the slide of you hand. You can't take him to the base, but with his fingers guiding your hand, you can at least keep the rest of his length warm while you suck at the head.

The noisier the better. "Keep a little space between your lips and my cock, lemme hear you suck it." Soap tells you, so you do, letting the loud slurping and sucking sounds fill the small room. You bob your head as best you can, obscene and loud. You feel more like you're jerking him off than actually sucking his dick. It doesn't seem to matter with the way he groans and bucks into your hand.

When he comes, it fills your mouth. It's bitter and thick, the taste makes you gag a little, but you were always told "spitters are quitters" and you don't really know where to spit it anyway. You have to swallow twice to get it all down. Mactavish seems satisfied at least. Fun! You think, as you stand up. Soap, ever the gentleman, holds the door for you when you leave.

You decide to ask Gaz next. You think as far as first BJs go that was pretty successful, but it could be better. You head for the barracks, you know Gaz is usually back from PT this time of day. He's fresh from the showers when he answers the door, and despite being slightly bewildered by your question, ushers you inside.

"Soap's not gonna be much help," Gaz agrees, sitting on the side of his bed, "can't believe you went to the captain first. You're just asking for a court martial."

"You were busy." You reason.

"Not busy now." Gaz smiles.

Kyle Garrick's blowjob tips:

Get comfortable. Gaz shucks his fatigues and lays on the bed, pulling you up onto it as well. Which is great because your knees sort of hurt after kneeling on the floor so long. You get nice and comfortable, laid down between his legs. It gives you a good view of his dick like this, lets you look at his face. He's not hard yet, but that doesn't mean you can't get started.

Don't be afraid to dive in. It's easier to take more of Gaz when he's soft, and you enjoy laving your tongue over the soft skin as you feel him hardening in your mouth. He scratches his fingers against your scalp, pushing your hair back to watch your face as you work. You pull back to spit on his dick, and slick your hand over him as he gets longer and thicker. He's warm, and tastes like soap.

Your tongue is your best friend. "Try licking it while it's in your mouth." Gaz offers. You wiggle your tongue against the underside of his cock as you bob your head, pulling up to lap at the head and sticking your tongue out as you sink towards the base of his cock. You drag it up as you rise, and pass it back and forth as you fall. You accidentally lick your fingers once or twice, but it makes Gaz groan so you're not complaining. Actually your hand is getting pretty wet from all the drool.

Eye contact. "Look here love." You didn't realize you'd closed your eyes, too focused on your work to remember anything else. Gaz draws your attention back to him. It stops you from taking much of him in your mouth, but it does provide you an opportunity to put on a show, opening your mouth to lick at the head of his cock and letting him see how he disappears between your lips.

You don't expect him to come on your face, but when the first rope of come hits your lips you find you don't mind. It's warm and comes in short spurts. Over your cheeks, your nose, you open your mouth to catch some of it, Gaz's hand wrapped around your own to jerk himself to finish. It's not any worse than swallowing for Soap. At least Gaz helps you clean up, wiping your face down with a towel and an apology.

"Did a great job doll," He lets you know, kissing your cheek before sending you on your way.

You bump into Ghost on your way to the rifle range for shooting practice. He lets you know he "heard" that you're looking for help with oral. You assume Soap told him. You'd be mad, but honestly another opportunity to practice your skills, maybe learn some new tricks means you don't really care when he grabs your wrist and leads you to the munitions shed.

Simon Riley's blowjob tips:

Communication is key. You make a passing remark about your knees still hurting from Johnny and Ghost is quick to strip his jacket off, balling it up for you to rest your knees on. He's already hard when he springs free of his fatigues. He's big, scary big, and he must see the anxiety in your eyes.

"Don't 'ave ta take it oll. Soft mouth is be'er than no mouth." He tells you, already gripping the back of your head as you hover over his cock. You nod, lapping at the ruddy head, swirling your tongue around it to wet the thick thing before easing it into your mouth.

"Watch the teeth." It's harder when he's so thick, but you open your jaw a little wider to accommodate him. It makes your jaw ache after a few shallow bobs so you pull back to lick and suck at his length, following the stroke of your fingers as you do. The more wet and messy you can get him the easier it will be to fit him in your mouth. Even if you can't get past your gag reflex you know you can at least make things feel good for him.

"Don't f'get the balls." Ghost reminds you, "jus' yer 'and's fine." You cup his balls with your other hand, rolling them around your palm and squeezing gently with your fingers. It's hard to split your attention, stroke with one hand and squeeze with the other, bobbing your head and rolling your tongue against his cock. There's a lot to remember, so you take it in shifts, listening to the soft encouragement from Ghost, taking stock of the way he guides your head.

He holds your head down when he comes and you struggle to keep all of it in your mouth as the bitter come coats your tongue. His cock twitches and spurts warm ropes into your mouth, at least you don't gag this time. He tastes better than Johnny, more watery and less bitter. As much as you try you can't force yourself to swallow it. You glance around for something to spit it into. Ghost crouches in front of you and opens his mouth, dragging you closer to lick his spend from your mouth.

He tugs his mask down when he's done wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He pats your ass when he sends you on your way, tells you he's open to practicing any time. You make your way back towards the base proper, and Price's secretary lets you know he's looking for you.

You shut the door to Price's office tightly when you see him glance at you over his papers. You lock the door when he waves you closer. His legs are spread wide when you step around the desk, his hand on his hard cock and his fingers at your hip.

"How's studying going?" He asks.

"Pretty well." You shrug.

"On your knees soldier."

John Price's blowjob tips:

Enthusiasm is everything. You're not sure if it's just the excitement of having your captain give in to you, or if his dick just looks that good but when you scoot forwards on your knees you're eager to get your mouth on him. You'd taken your jacket off and balled it up for your knees, diving in like Gaz advised. You're treated to a pleased hum from John, his hand cupping your cheek to feel where his cock bulges the skin as you angle your mouth on him. You pull off with a pop to lick at his length, watching his face for pleasure. Your hand follows your tongue, moving to coat his cock in your drool when you spit on his head.

Breathe. You let out a breath as you slide down his cock, you're starting to get him down deeper. You try to swallow, and have to pull back on a gag. You make a face and try again, it's harder with this angle, but Ghost told you it was fine to take half. You don't have to take the whole thing, but the more you breathe and get used to the feeling the easier it is to take more of his cock. You're actually kind of having fun with this. Pulling back to lick and kiss at his cock, rubbing your thumb against the head until he's pushing at the back of your head.

Suck. You hollow your cheek and suck hard on his cock as you pull back. It makes John groan, his head tipping back to expose the long column of his neck. The harder you suck the deeper he groans, and it's no trouble to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock while you're sucking. You bob your head and slurp at him a few times, letting drool drip out of your lips before sucking hard and stroking your hand to meet your lips.

Everyone likes a compliment. You pull off with a pop, settling your cheek against the captain's thick thigh as you stroke his fat cock. He takes a breath and looks down at you. "You look good like this, Sir." You tell him. His cheeks grow pink, and he tips his head back again. "Just suck, soldier." He grits. You shrug and return to bobbing your head.

Know where they're coming. Price pulls you back when his cock starts to twitch against your tongue. You keep your mouth open, letting his dick rest on your tongue even when he's warning you he's close. "Where do you want it?" He asks. You blink. You don't really want it in your mouth again, and you can't leave the captain's office with come on your face. "Tissue then," He decides for you. Letting you go back to sucking.

You're pulled off again when his cock pulses. John's hand wrapping around yours to stroke his fat length as he grabs tissues with his other hand. He holds the wad of paper against the head as he lets out a breath. You can feel the pulse of him coming, see the dampening tissues. It's mesmerizing to watch. He tosses the wad of come stained tissues in the trash when he's done and tucks himself back in his trousers.

"You know," John muses, "Mactavish thinks he could use some oral practice now too. If you're willing to volunteer your services."

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i did a little ghost drawing about a week ago, and i already posted it to tiktok, but i wanted to post it on here as well :)

the whole process ‼️

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Y'ALL REMEMBER THAT ONE "ME N YOU" TREND BUT WITH SHOES TREND?? 🤭

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oh my god this is absolutely gorgeous WHAT (i am sitting in the train trying not to giggle to myself)

🌨️

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not a single thought behind those eyes

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Find Me In The Ruins Of Our Past 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

David "Hesh" Walker x fem!Reader

Part 1.

Story description:

Years after ODIN struck, the damages left by the catastrophe remained in numerous parts of North America, including San Diego. Accounts of survivors up until now were rare, extremely rare. However, it was not lucky. It would be better off if you were dead in times like this. You had survived up until now with other survivors like you, but that lasted until you were found and attacked by a federation recon group. Everyone either died or were separated, but you escaped. Now, you venture the forests injured and alone... but are you really alone in this dark, miserable world?

!TW! : injury detail, gore, strong language, rapid changings of pace, war topics, sensitive topics, post-traumatic states, slowburn?, sex?, barely proof-read, 1am writing session

Story under the cut.

Find Me In The Ruins Of Our Past 𓆩ᥫ᭡

~~~

Alone. Dark. Dangerous.

Surrounding her, the army of soldiers that stood with authority on the grounds of what once was her home. A wasteland now, owned by the sickening taunts of crows that only could remind her of a fallen memory out of reach.

The helpless, innocent bird teeming with life that visited her days in the mornings at the cracks of dawn, before disappearing into the field of trees lining the flowery path just outside the window. The gentle music that it sung, echoing softly off the tranquil, vibrant leaves that hugged the notes like a blanket, sweetly danced to her ears. However, it was now replaced with the fiery orchestra of choking croaks that reverberated around the ash-covered barks, ripped apart from the bare, naked trees, enveloping her, swallowing her whole.

Her feet had grown accustomed to the rough terrain of the ground. The skin had become calloused and become rough as she tread along the natural surfaces. The daggers of bushes and twigs pierced at her like tiny swords, dragging away strips of her epidermis as she stumbled onto the pathways where they laid. Her breath was always ragged and labored, and even in the coldest nights, not a puff of condensation after each strained exhale was present. She was cold as snow and like a forgotten statue of ice. Not one bit of her was relaxed, but locked and tense like chains had been dragged across her muscles, restricting them into place.

Her lips were cracked and dry, giving her the metallic taste of iron each time she ran her tongue across, the taste that never went away no matter how many times you tried to swallow it down. Below her sunken eyes were dark clouds, the thunderous vapors that hung high, but low. Out of reach, but low enough for you to believe you could reach it. They painted her face like war paint, the kind you would see soldiers roughly apply before shooting for their deaths.

It was difficult out there, where you wouldn't possibly distinguish a winding branch from the ugly picture of an outstretched, armed hand. Or, where the cumulonimbus clouds hoarded the vast canvas of the sky, splashing it with darkness and gloom. The atmosphere still reeked of the overpowering stench of blood and death from months to years ago. The fallen bodies of soldiers had already been washed away into the sea of crushed leaves and mud. Their flesh had separated from bone and both melted with the earth, becoming one. The bones were left scattered, leaving a truly gruesome sight, but her only concern was navigating her way through the unevenness of the littered land. most importantly, was to not destroy any much more of whats left of the precious flesh of hers that could tear away like the plump, sweet meat of a peach - the kind that would happily be pecked away at by ravenous and famished birds when they get the opportunity.

She bent down by a low-hanging tree just across from a streaming river, hastily sitting on the damp grass from the rainfall a couple days back. She let out a deep exhale, her throat cracking as the air tickled the sore rings of muscle. Sluggishly, she closed her eyes, stretching one of her legs out in front of her as she attempted to get some rest underneath the tree. The air was thick and smelled of precipitation. For the first time in what seemed like forever, the sun shone through the gaps of leaves, and the dense layer of ash from years ago subsided enough for some sunlight to come through.

"Fuck..." she grumbled to herself as she rested a hand on her temple.

Rest was almost impossible for her. The pain was too much to be ignored for some measly couple hours of 'sleep'. she grumbled before opening her eyes again, meeting the dreadful atmosphere around her. The forest was silent, so deafeningly silent in that moment that she almost wished the crows flew back to taunt her. Her head turned a few times, then a few times more, as she gazed for any sort of life she can use to distract her with - but there was nothing. not even the hover-flies were there to shiver around the ground.

Suddenly, she heard a faint whistle from the grass behind the tree she leaned up against, but it wasn't the quietness of a bird, but it also wasn't the footsteps of a lone deer. it was different to the life she has heard before wandering around the landscape.

then, a snap.

Her eyes shot open, her fatigue draining away almost immediately. Startling her, a loud bark ripped through the dense air, and it broke her from the quietness she had been surrounded by for the past 3 years, counting. The next thing she saw was the vicious beast panting before her, gazing into her eyes ferociously as it bared its fangs. It stepped closer, and closer, the warning evident in its glossy, green eyes. It was like it knew how helpless she was in this situation, and it fed off of it. The canine snarled, shaking as it approached her more.

Her muscles froze in place, except for her fingers, which clawed at the ground, gripping it. The tips had turned white from the sheer amount of force in her grasp, and so was her skin as it fell paler each second, each heartbeat that she knew may as well be her last. Beads of sweat raced down her face eagerly, a complete contrast to her body, which was like a corpse with rigor mortis. Tense and stiff. The wash of fight or flight locked in her mind, capturing her in a chokehold. One that could mean she stays under that tree ripped to death by the deadly beast. She could only imagine the scene. Her trachea teared from her throat after the animal sinks its fangs into her rings of muscle.

With another step, it pounces. It leaps like a thousand leopards chasing a herd of gazelles. The nightmarish bark of the german shepherd pierced into her eardrum as it reached forward with its snout. This was it. It was over for her. Could be to die an agonizing death in exchange for much-needed rest be so much to ask for?

Her arms instinctively reached up, shielding her face. She expected the bite, the moment its teeth gnaws at her tender muscles. The screams that could only be voiced existed in her head, but it was broken by a call far away. It wasn't a bark, but a man. She could decipher the words, but most were muffled as she recovered from the fact she had been hyperventilating the whole time. Slowly, she uncovered her face, peering in the direction.

"Riley! Stay!" he shouted across the plain, waving his arm at the dog.

She slowly blinked her eyes at the small interaction, dropping her head back against the bark of the tree. Fatigued, she exhaled shallowly as her vision became blurry, small opaque dots blinking in and out occasionally like condensation on a glass. Soon enough, the sounds around her began to dim, and so did her reality as her limbs dropped to the floor and relaxed. All tension dissipated from her body as she sunk into the crook of the tree, and she slipped into the darkness of unconsciousness under the sheltering branches above.

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dont mind me, just falling for the villain 😊 :>

rorke is babygirl though, blame the feds

Rorke HeadCanons: NSFW Edition Vol. 1

Are we sure we can handle this? We're going to need a hose because this man is FILTHY. Pre-Fed. Let's do this!

Contrary to popular belief, sex was not invented by early humans. It was invented by Rorke.

Don't get me wrong, Rorke has a soft and gentile side. But if you really, and I mean REALLY, want a good fuck, this is your guy.

He's very sexually forward. If you're going to be with him, he's going to want to capsize in your thighs high-tide.

Smooth talking sonovabitch. Rorke is smooth and knows how to seduce with his words. You'll never hear a stupid ass pick up line slip his lips. No, that's not his style at all. His words are like the snake in the garden of Eden- inciting & borderline sinful.

He is pretty confident in his abilities to please in bed. He's never had a moment of doubt.

You would think he has a high body count but he doesn't. It's not low like Hesh or Keegan, but it's not high either. He's been around the block a number of times.

This man KNOWS where the clit is and oh boy, will he let you know that he knows where it is. Fingers, mouth, doesn't matter so long as you're screaming his name.

Not picky with positions. Will have you anyway the motion of the sexual ocean takes you.

Rorke is not an outright dirty talker while doing the deed. He'll get vocal a bit but he's definitely one of those guys that groans and moans when he's really feeling it.

Don't you dare spit with him. Always swallow.

Believe it or not, I don't see Rorke as being a kinky dude. Dominant? Definitely. But outright into BDSM stuff? Nah. He doesn't need all the bells and whistles to have a good time with you.

Rorke, like any other red blooded American male will rub one out if he needs to. Just give him privacy and he'll get right to it. No toys, no porn. Just whatever rolls into his head and his bare hand.

Loves to cum on your belly. Something about seeing his substance on you just pleases him.

"Mmmm, now ain't that a pretty sight."

Let's talk about what this man is carrying down under, shall we? Rorke is on the upper end of average but not by much. Thick and delicious head that will give you a fantastic stretch when going in. He loves watching it go in and seeing your reaction to feeling it.

"Heh, that feel good for ya, honey? You like getting resized, don't ya?"

Veiny bastard and loves the underside of his cock stimulated.

For what hair Rorke lacks on his head, his body kind of makes up for it. He's not super bushy down below but definitely hairy. He trims it back a bit so it shouldn't be a bother. At most, you might get slight skin agitation as his body hair runs on the coarse side.

Pretty average on the cum production side. His taste skews pretty bitter. When you swallow him, make sure to feed him pineapples or something before hand.

Will want to try anal with you. Only if you are willing.

How do you get Rorke to make love to you over fucking? You have to get past that tough exterior. If you can achieve that level of intimacy, the more delicate side of this man comes out and it's actually pretty beautiful.

When Rorke is being tender, he's going to hold you tightly against him. Every time you move or change positions, he'll do his best to make sure he stays in you. He wants that connection. He craves it. He really needs to feel it and doesn't want to lose it at any cost.

"Please honey... let me stay in you...I want you close to me."

Will kiss you if you're making love. Not aggressively just tenderly. It might take you by surprise that he can do that but Rorke is a man that has deep rivers of emotions running through his veins. If he's in love with you? This man will throw himself into the sun if it meant making sure you're safe and feel loved.

Ultimately, Rorke really is a complex man with equally complex feelings that can be seen in his sexual behaviors. He's almost paradoxical. So aggressive in some contexts but so soft in others.

I'm willing to bet a lot of this is still with him post Fed brainwashing in some capacity.

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pov: movie night with the riley’s 🫶

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Ghost's just the type of dad that always has a kid hanging onto him. The sort of adult that other adults are spooked by, but kids just walk right up to. He never crouches down to their level just stares down at them until they inevitably ask "why're you so big" and he grunts out a "ate all my vegetables" which always makes the kid stick their tongue out and grimace. Then they'll stand next to him and info dump about whatever they're doing while Ghost watches his own kid fall off the monkey bars.

[hello-summ3r]

sneak peak of a section of a little story im working on (if ur interested)

this story doesn't have a title yet because i just randomly got the urge to write at midnight :D

also, i was thinking about this being in cod: ghosts universe because i love my little babies.

!tw! gore, blood, descriptive gore

her lips were cracked and dry, giving her the metallic taste of iron each time she ran her tongue across, the taste that never went away no matter how many times you tried to swallow it down. below her sunken eyes were dark clouds, the thunderous vapors that hung high, but low. out of reach, but low enough for you to believe you could reach it. they painted her face like war paint, the kind you would see soldiers roughly apply before shooting for their deaths.

it was difficult out there, where you wouldn't possibly distinguish a winding branch from the ugly picture of an outstretched, armed hand, or where the cumulonimbus clouds hoarded the vast canvas of the sky, splashing it with darkness and gloom. the atmosphere still reeked with the overpowering stench of blood and death from months to years ago. the fallen bodies of soldiers had already been washed away into the sea of crushed leaves and mud; flesh separated from bone and melted with the earth, becoming one. the bones were left scattered, leaving a truly gruesome sight, but her only concern was navigating her way through the unevenness of the littered land, and not destroying any much more of whats left of the precious flesh of hers that could tear away like the plump, sweet meat of a peach - the kind that would happily be pecked away at by ravenous and famished birds when they get the opportunity.

~~~~

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how i think the ghost boys would react to stubbing their toe (for no reason at all)

(kick, keegan, hesh, logan)

kick:

he’d be talking to you, like “hey, what’s for dinner? we could go out, or—“

he stops and makes a painful face, his hands slowly setting down anything he was previously holding. he sits down on a nearby stool. “i’m going to tear this house down if i stub my toe one more time, in the SAME spot, AGAIN.”

then you’d just look at him, holding in a laugh

“it’s not funny, shit hurts”

keegan:

probably close to the same thing as kick, yet he’d say “fuck” quietly and suck in his bottom lip, trying not to make it obvious.

“what happened”

“stubbed my fuckin’ toe, again” he’d say, maybe a little embarrassed

then the next time you come home there’s a corner guard on the place he stubbed his toe.

hesh:

“FUCK!”

he’d sit down abruptly, checking his foot for any damage, maybe even hit the object he stubbed his toe on.

you’d laugh and he’d look at you

“i think my pinky toe is broken”

knowing him, he’d put a bandaid around it.

logan:

“mmh, okay” he’d say, really devastated and in pain

“i’m gonna sit down for a second”

he sits down, taking slight deep breaths as he waits for the pain to fade

“are you okay?” you’d ask, your face concerned

“yeah, just… stubbed my toe”

and he’d tell you to watch out for it as well

[hello-summ3r]

i havent made a post in so long omgg 😭 uni exams and studies are taking over my life.

anyways, i have a problem. how do i make a taglist ?? im still new to tumblr so likeeee yaa

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dw guys he just tripped

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tags: angst

He is standing outside the door, he can hear your yelling and he can hear it breaking up into screams and sobs. His heart pains as he realizes how much he’s hurt you. Every tear and scream from you rips his heart out of his chest.

He stares down at the floor silently as he just listens to the sounds of your pain. He wants to run to you and hug you, but he knows you need space, he knows you want him to go.

He has failed as your lover.

little angst idea dump that can be applied to anybody really, except i used masculine pronouns :D

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Dance 💞

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focusing on the crafty!reader scenarios, im just thinking if they are a crocheter dating ghost, then would the crochet hooks bring up some sort of flashback for ghost? bro was hooked up like some rotisserie chicken

this was merely a thought as i was crocheting.

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boop boop bee doo