#Call of duty drabble
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elysianightsss · 4 months ago
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Something something becoming an accidental prostitute for Simon lol.
Hear me out though, you’re at a bar. You’re making out, you’ve had a little too much to drink. Not enough to be completely gone like you’re sure Simon is but enough to be making out with a stranger.
Then you’re back in his truck, he’s practically begging for you to let him fuck you and you say no. You ‘don’t do that type of shit, one night stands and all that’ you say. Simon’s next thing is to beg for a blowjob, you again say no. ‘Part of the boyfriend package’ blah blah blah.
Then Simon delivers his final offer. He is so desperate he offers to pay for a handjob, he cringes after the words come out of his mouth thinking you’d be offended. But to his surprise you say yes. You need the money, and want him to feel good so why the heck not.
And it’s the best damn handjob he’s had in his life.
He drives you home and soon enough after a few days he’s at your door offering more money for another handjob. You feel a little dirty but when his calloused hand slides up your thigh and his hot breath is fluttering on your neck, the feeling fizzles away into something else.
Seeing him come undone with just your touch drives you wild, it becomes increasingly difficult not to do more for him. So when Simon comes over again, this time you kneel in front of him watching as his dark eyes widen when your knees hit the ground.
And just like your handjobs, it’s the best damn blowjob he’s ever had in his life. All sloppy and filthy, not like he imagined but so much better.
You don’t ask for anything but after Simon has kissed you goodbye -(after he’s done begging to let him make you cum)- you turn to find a stack of cash on the coffee table, almost double the amount he’d given for the handjob.
It’s not long after that, that you give in and let him spend hours between your thighs. He even pays you for that, mumbles into your cunt that it’s just as good as your lips around his cock as he ruts his hips into the mattress. You don’t see it until later, long after he’s left, but there is a triple stack of cash on your nightstand.
A day later you receive a text from him saying he’ll be gone for a couple of weeks on work but he can’t wait to see you when he’s back. You feel a strange fluttering sensation in your tummy that makes you feel sick. You thought Simon was the type to hide his feelings and be more stoic and blunt so seeing that message from the hulking giant has your stomach in knots.
It stays that way, you can’t rid the feeling so much so that when he finally shows up at your door you tell him whatever it is between you had to end. It was certainly not the welcome Simon was expecting after dealing with a gruelling mission with nothing but men for weeks on end. He feels something snap in his mind and suddenly he’s throwing you on the bed, gripping your jaw, brown eyes glaring into yours as he speaks, “I’m not goin nowhere sweet’art.”
You ‘fight’ with him blah blah blah but let’s get real you let him finger fuck your pussy until you go cross eyed. You let him fuck you into the mattress until you can barely remember your own name. You let him kiss your neck until the sun starts to rise. And you let him pull your body into his as you both drift off to sleep together.
In the morning you hear the envelope, heavy with weight to it, placed down on your nightstand. Then Simon kisses your forehead and whispers he’ll be back later to take care of you.
Then, the money stops appearing but he’s still fucking you. Soon the rent is paid in cash by an anonymous ‘good samaritan’. And before you know it, you’re waking up with a glittering diamond on your wedding finger and a swollen belly that moves when Simon says I love you.
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waves-against-a-cliff · 2 months ago
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I don't think Soap would rush you into marriage because he wants sex. I think he does it because he knows his life can be cut short any moment. He does it because when he does bite the bullet he wants you to be taken care of. Hes smart, he plans ahead. Hes discussed this with his team, given them a game plan on what to do if he does die in combat.
Oh he loves you so much and it's proven with every breath he takes and every moment he's planned.
But when that bullet pierces his skull? When he wakes up in the hospital, brain foggy and vision blurred? When he sees you curled up beside him? He retires the moment he can.
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bunny-jpeg · 1 year ago
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simon riley knew the years were catching up to him. he could feel the dull throb in his knee. his back started to hurt when he sat in the wrong position for too long. he even would a grey hair the other day. he honestly wondered if his boys were still working, or were the years of drinking, smoking and combat the thing that killed them all. he wanted to put that to the test. and you were his little test subject. it was hard for you to deny your commander, especially when he shoved you into the cramped areas that only became more cramped with his large body in them, and his cock drilled into your poor achy cunt. he'd often comment about how your sweet cunt drooled for him, coated his cock in slickness and practically begged to be filled, to be bred.
he'd often shove his fingers into your mouth as he fucked you from behind. his gruff voice in your ears, telling you to shut up mixed with promises of a stuffed cunt. up against shelves, over desks, in the back of military vehicles. on your knees, on your back. anyway he could have you, he was going to take the chance. if you have one more period, he's going to tie you down the bed and use you until that poor pussy of yours is drowned in his cum. you don't get it, you're too young and stupid to be worried about your biological clock. you think your breeding days are forever, but simon's wants to make sure every second counts as he has you bent in half with a milky ring around the base of his cock.
that soft little stomach of yours is gonna get nice and filled with his brats. little rileys running around, their grabby hands all over mama. you'd be off base and some place where the little ones can run around. and while they're down for their nap, simon's gonna make sure his woman gets some loving. as he spit in your mouth before he bruised your hips as he had you shoved over the edge of his bed. his hand in your hair as he made you whimper. maybe he was a sick man, but he had to make sure you got pregnant before he threw out his hip or knee. he could twist you into positions that allowed him to be more comfortable, you were young and flexible. you could handle being almost upside down while simon lapped at your cum soaked pussy, pulling a fifth orgasm out of you that night alone. his cum thoroughly stained your bed sheets and the lips of your pussy. your hole tender and coated in the creamy film of simon's cum. a promise of things to come.
it only took less than a year before you were feeling the aches of pregnancy replace the aches of sex. now he kept a broad hand over your swollen middle. you were gonna be a mama soon. and simon had the privilege of being the father. even with you on your back and your ankles over his shoulders, his cock drilling into you, you looked more beautiful than ever. a good woman always looked better on her back.
a/n: "what's a bunny's favourite music genre? hip-hop!"
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springtyme · 1 year ago
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𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 ♡ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖! 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈
Simon catching baby fever, but you’re only roommates...
141 masterlist (there'll be a part two of this)
Before you, the only time Simon really left his flat when he was home on leave was to go to the gym or to go get groceries. 
He was content with this routine, he found comfort in the familiarity of it, and enjoyed the peace and quiet of his own space. Or at least that is what he told himself. This way of life had been sufficient for him for a long time, but as time went on he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. 
That is when Simon found himself considering the idea of getting a flatmate. He thought about it for a while, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. On one hand, he enjoyed his independence and privacy. On the other hand, having someone else around the flat could be a good thing, and he does have an extra bedroom in the flat that’s just collecting dust. Maybe it would be a good idea… Maybe.
After much contemplation, Simon finally decided to take the plunge and start looking. He posted an ad online, and waited for responses to come in. To his surprise, he received a good handful, he had actually not anticipated that that many, if any, would be interested in sharing his space. It is a little overwhelming, and as he goes through the applications he starts to doubt whether he had made the right decision. 
What if he didn’t get along with any of them? What if they were messy or loud or just generally annoying? It was a dumb idea to begin with, he thought to himself, but then as he looked through the last application, something caught his eye.You. 
You seemed responsible, tidy, and overall like someone he could get along with. But there was something more about you that intrigued him. Maybe it was the way you wrote about your love for cooking and how you were looking for a quiet and peaceful place to call home. Or maybe it was the photo you attached to your application, a warm smile on your face that made Simon feel at ease. 
Maybe this could work out after all. 
And work out it did, maybe a little too well. It has now been a little over a year since you moved in, and despite Simon being gone on deployment more often than not the two of you have become very close. You cook meals together. You watch movies on lazy nights, where you will sometimes fall asleep on the couch, your lashes kissing your cheek as the soft glow of the tv illuminates your face, and Simon can’t help but feel a warmth in his heart as he tucks the fluffy blanket, that you had brought with you when you moved in, over your sleeping form.
After you moved in, his flat feels more like a home than it ever had before. It’s like you were always meant to be there, filling up the empty space in his life that he didn’t even realise was there. 
There is something so oddly domestic about all the small things you do together – sharing a cup of tea in the evenings as you talk about your day, or even playfully arguing over who gets to do the dishes that night, even though he secretly never actually minds doing them. 
Pushing the trolley down the aisles of the supermarket as the two of you do the big shop together on Sundays are one of his favourites, though. Because he knows what it looks like from the outside – just a couple doing their weekly grocery shopping. The only thing that would make the scene even more picturesque would be with a little baby in the trolley, a perfect blend of the two of you, giggling and reaching out to try and grab for the items on the shelves as you both laugh and try to keep them entertained.
These thoughts will sometimes sneak into Simon’s mind, and he will quickly shake them away, reminding himself that it is just his imagination running wild. He can’t think like that, it isn’t fair to you or to himself. But still, the idea lingers in the back of his mind, growing stronger with each passing day.
It has started to get harder and harder to ignore these thoughts, these feelings. He tries to push them away, to bury them deep down, but they keep resurfacing. He never really expected to feel this way about you, about anyone, really. But now that he has you in his life, so close yet so far from what he actually wants to be he can’t help but dream about a different life, to have a family, a future, a life outside of the military and his flat.
Suddenly, Simon starts to notice more and more babies around him. Whether it’s at the park when he is on his runs, in Tesco, or even on TV, they seem to be everywhere. And each time he sees a baby, his heart aches with longing. It doesn’t help that your neighbours just had a baby, and he has to watch you coo over the little boy every chance you get. It is like a knife twisting in his chest, knowing that he will never have that with you.
It has always been a secret desire of his, a wish he knew he would never be worthy of having fulfilled. And yet, it linger in the depths of his heart, elusive and shimmering like a mirage in the desert. The dream of someday having a family of his own, of doing things right, of breaking the cycle he had grown up in. After meeting you, his dreams became more vivid, more concrete. 
He has fallen in love with you, and that scares the living daylights out of him. He never thought he would be in this situation, especially after all the sick shit he has been through. But here you are, filling up the empty space in his heart, making him yearn for a life he never thought he could have.
But Simon is good at keeping his emotions in check, so he continues to play his part, to act like everything is okay, like he doesn’t feel this overwhelming love for you that threatens to consume him. 
But late at night, Simon lies awake in bed, when he is sure you’re sleeping and he is staring at the ceiling, his heart feels heavy with the weight of his unspoken feelings. 
And when he tries to decompress, by fisting his aching cock in his hand, guilty thoughts of you will flood his mind, making him ache with longing. 
He knows it’s wrong, he knows he shouldn’t be thinking of you in that way. But the images of you, of your smile, of your laughter, of your kindness, they linger in his mind, fueling his desires. The way you smile and laugh and light up his life in ways he never thought possible, it fuels a fire within him so all consuming, so intense, that he can’t help but give in to it, even if just in the confines of his own mind.
And as he strokes himself, he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have you in his bed, to feel your touch, to hear your moans of pleasure. He imagines what it would be like to hold you close, to feel your warmth against his skin, to hear you whisper words of love and affection in his ear. To have you beg for him to fill your womb and mark himself as yours. He would love it – to pump you so full with his cum, for it to take root, to see your body change with his child, to create a life with you, to have a family of his own. 
He will have to bite down on his own hand to stifle his groans and to stop himself from moaning your name out loud. It’s a dangerous game he plays in the silence of the night, as he knows that these feelings, these desires, can never be acted upon. But still, he can’t help but indulge in these fantasies, in these dreams of a life that he may never have.
And as he lies in his bed after, spent and worn, a sense of guilt wash over him. He knows that it’s wrong to have these thoughts about you. But he can’t help it, he can’t control it, and as he lies in the darkness of his bedroom, he can’t help but feel the sting of longing in his chest, knowing that you lie in your own bed just down the hall, so close yet so far away.
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sheepispink · 7 months ago
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thinking about sleeping next to simon thanks to @thatsamericasass24
“What’re you doing up this late?” His gruff voice rang out, empty bottle in hand coming to fill it in the sink here, but all rationality seemed to run to waste when he saw your state.
For some reason, you cant sleep in your bed tonight whether that’s because of a giant spider, a nightmare scaring you or your bed entirely breaking mid sleep. Either way, you’re shaking in the common room, hands wrapped around a warm mug as you recount the previous events like a broken tape playing the same part.
With that, he had ushered you into his bedroom, knowing he couldnt just leave you to tremble any longer on that couch. He never planned to sleep beside you, no, he would only lay next to you, make sure that shiver stopped. He settles in the bed first, making sure to be on the edge before patting the space next to him in the dark room, only the small lamplight glowing up the untouched sheets.
You let out a soft breath of relief as you shuffle beneath the covers beside him, only to tense up immediately when your leg collides with his. “Sorry!” You squeak out, shuffling forward only to meet your tipping point, your hand gripping the bedframe to stop you from completely falling off the mattress. You were seconds away from falling off altogether but you couldn’t fathom complaining so you just lay there, squashed into yourself to avoid touching him once more— your hands still holding on desperately so you dont fall off the bed altogether.
His teeth grit as he watches the situation unfold, clearly having underestimated just how large he was. Of course his own bed was more than sufficient for himself— he didnt really think twice when his arm fell off the bed in the mornings. so he figured the same would apply to you. Now he could only watch as you lay stiffly, trying your best not to be ungrateful for his help but it was a little difficult when you felt more on edge than before. Literally.
He taps your shoulder and motions for you to face him, which you do, rolling over when your shoulder brushes his arm once more, a flush on your cheek.. Looking down between you two, there’s only an inch of space at best, and even so, he’s not even in a comfortable position. “Sorry— i’ll just go back to mine-“ You begin but he shakes his head, settling himself properly in the bed until his arms bump yours.
“Hold onto me.” You blink in surprise and instinctively follow his instructions, reaching an arm out before he guides your hand to settle over the expanse his chest. He would’ve wrapped you up tightly with his own arms, keeping you safe in his strong grip. However, the last thing he’d want is to scare you off by being his usually rough self. This way you could choose what you wanted to do, without feeling pressured to comply.
And you do, your hand snug over his chest as your body slowly pushes more against his, right in the crook of him. “I think my arm is too short.” He loves the way your lips quirk up into a nervous grin, afraid yet still finding entertainment in the silliness of this situation. He shuffles onto his side instead, every inch of him pressing against your body as he moves. “You gonna keep being cheeky or can i hold you properly?” He knew what you were implying but it was best to be sure, especially from how shaken up you were earlier. “The latter, please.”
You let out a soft squeal as he wraps his large arm around you, his forearm pressing against your back as he tucks your head into his neck. “ ‘m not gonna let you fall off. Close yer eyes.” He squeezes you a little, forcing the breath you’ve been holding in the corner of your lungs for hours now to finally release. Your eyes flitter, the warm skin of his neck bringing colour back to your cheeks. The panic from before dissipates now, sleepy eyes drifting close as your hand reaches around, only landing on his side at best. “Night, Si.” You squeeze him just as tight, your nose nudging his neck and he chuckles, never having thought he’d ever be able to hold you like this.
“Night, sweetheart.”
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batsybat91 · 2 months ago
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You don't know how you ended up here. You try to run through the events in your head, but the math doesn't add up. You moved in with Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley. Johnny was always chatty, but he's been away from home for a couple of days. That leaves you with Simon. Now, you're sitting at the kitchen table - coloring with Crayola, no less - and filling in a Scooby Doo coloring book with Ghost.
It strikes you just how strange this is. Men are scared of Simon. He's a practical Grim Reaper, and you know he's a living legend. That big boy in the skull face mask? You can't escape him if you see him because you're dead already. What would those same men, who are so afraid of him, think if they saw him coloring Daphne right now?
When did you start thinking of him as Simon instead of Ghost?
"You said you wanted to talk." You clear your throat after an awkward silence. The pencil in his hand stops working on the orange of Daphne's hair. "What did you want to talk about?"
"You," he says simply.
"Well, there's lots of things about me to know," you murmur, your own pencil stopping on Shaggy's shirt.
"Why did you tell me those... those dad jokes that night?" he whispers. Simon's accent wraps around each word like a warm blanket, comforting like it has never been before. You wonder if he made his voice softer on purpose, or if it was just your imagination.
"I was just trying to break the ice," you admit with a shrug.
"Why? You could've just stayed in your room." His gaze meets yours, eyes impossibly brown. Simon doesn't have his mask on today, which is a miracle by your standards. It reveals his shaggy blonde hair, his strong Roman nose, his stubbled jaw, and all the other traits of a handsome man.
"I don't like being alone." You force yourself to keep your eyes on his. "And you are kind to me when it matters."
"Are people often unkind, love?" The way he says "love" - like a word meant for you and you only - makes your heart stumble. You don't think he's ever called you that before.
"No." You shake your head. "But they are louder about it. Kind because it gets them affection or attention. You are kind because it is what's right."
Simon leans forward in his seat, his nose mere centimeters from yours. You can feel his breath fan across your lips, uneven yet quiet. You close the distance, resting your forehead against his own. One of his hands comes up to cup your face, surprisingly gentle for a man who has used those same hands to crack skulls and break knees. You lean into his touch instinctually, allowing his warmth to comfort you.
"I am also kind to you," he begins, swallowing hard. You see his Adam's apple bob with the force of it. "Because I think you're... gorgeous. Ravishing, really."
Your jaw drops straight to the floor. He, Ghost the big, bad sniper, finds you, the roommate, attractive? That can't be right. Your first instinct is that this is a prank, but Simon wouldn't prank you. Maybe Johnny, but certainly not Simon.
"You're not so bad yourself," you whisper finally.
"May I kiss you, darlin'?" he asks, his voice so quiet that you think he's nervous. Nervous to even say the words aloud.
"Yes, Simon," you breathe.
Simon wastes no time pressing his lips against yours. His lips aren't chapped, like you thought they might be. They're surprisingly soft against your own. You slide your hands into his short blonde hair, tugging just enough to elicit a quiet groan from him.
His kiss isn't hungry or fervent. He takes his time kissing you, ensuring you can feel everything he's feeling. You are hesitant to call it love, but he certainly kisses you like he's in love. When his tongue runs across the seam of your lips, you obediently open your mouth and allow him to explore.
He is deft with his tongue, tangling it with yours and finding spots that make your heart race. His hands move from your face to your waist, pulling you ever closer to him. The world narrows to just you and him. Nothing else matters to you, save for this brilliant, steamy kiss.
You think that's the moment you realized... you're in big trouble.
Part I
Part II
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criminalamnesia · 10 months ago
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simon’s been having dreams since you left.
horrendous, sickeningly sweet dreams, all of you. it’s always you. reminding him of something he’s not sure he ever really had— something like a mirage, there one minute and gone the next.
but you’d been gone for a while, really. since you’d woken up in that infirmary bed, hatred and terror in your eyes every time you looked at him.
perhaps it’s been longer than— probably since they had you in that damn chair. maybe even before, when whispers of a traitor slipped into their minds and dug its claws in. all signs pointing to you.
most of the dreams start like this:
he wakes to the sound of birdsong. sweet little chirps that sound just outside the window you insist be left open during the springtime.
he’d conceded, not daring to tell you no. it was always yes with you, which surprised him. yes, nonetheless.
he gives a soft groan as his eyes begin to crack open. you’re curled into him, your head resting atop his inked arm. the limb is completely numb, but he doesn’t dare to move it. he’s content to lay here and watch you, because this is when he feels he truly has you.
(but it’s a dream, he realizes when he wakes. and he thinks he never really had you— a destination he desired but never reached. he doesn’t have you anymore, and he never will again.)
the fragrant smell of your favorite flowers, which fill the flower beds surrounding the little blue cottage, wafts in through the window. vibrant pinks and yellows that came after days of hard labor— simon planting each little seed and tending to it until it blossomed. he refused to let you help. said it was his gift to you.
a token of his love.
(even though you’ve long since gone from the little blue cottage, he still labors over those flowers every growing season. a gift to you, that you’d never see the longevity of. that you’d never known was a labor of love.)
(he hated that the first time you’d laid eyes on the cottage, he hadn’t been with you. that you’d been forced to go there— that they (he) had forced you out.)
you curl deeper into his side, your hair tickling his arm. he watches you sleep, your eyelids fluttering as you dream. he can tell it’s a good one by the way your nose twitches and a grin spreads across your lips.
(too often, he wakes to your screams of terror. the screams you had loosed under his tortuous hand. no longer are the nightmares that plague you ones of the perils of your job. now, they’re memories of what he’s done.)
(he wonders if you still wake up screaming. he wonders if you wish he was there to calm you back to sleep, like he’d done countless times before.)
(he wonders if he is what you see in your nightmares now.)
he shifts his body slightly. you stir, eyes still tightly shut as sunlight beams through the airy sage green curtains. again, he couldn’t say no to you.
especially when you had given him the reason behind them. “I want to spend every minute together. just us. every moment out of service, I want.”
it was always yes with you.
“good morning, si,” you grumble, voice still thick from sleep.
“did I wake you?” he whispers, lips pressing to the hair atop your head.
“birdsong outside did,” you reply, a yawn splitting your mouth wide. his free hand finds your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.
“told ya we should shut the window, love.”
it’s here when things start to differ.
in the good dreams, you look up at him with a grin. the pair of you spend the next hour in bed, drifting in and out of sleep and whispering mundane thoughts to each other. him holding you tightly, swearing he can feel your warmth next to him even when he inevitably wakes.
the bad dreams are more common.
when you look up at him, he sees one of two faces. the first face looks at him with the same expression you’d had back in price’s office, before you had slammed a fist into his jaw.
it’s heartbroken and it’s tired. it’s hateful and scared and ashamed.
(he still thinks it’s beautiful.)
the second face is battered and beaten and bruised. it’s the face you’d worn when in the chair, tortured by his hand. swollen and discolored. bloody. broken.
but most of all, it’s betrayed.
and that jolts him awake. but he doesn’t mind the bad dreams. doesn’t mind any dreams, now.
because they’re always about you. about his greatest failure, his greatest love. he sleeps so he can see you because it’s all he gets now.
he doesn’t know where you went after the cottage, none of them do. you wanted it that way. he wouldn’t dare seek you out. he owed you that much.
so he sleeps.
and he dreams of you.
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here’s a little drabble about simon after reader leaves at the end of traitor. definitely inspired by ‘sailor song’. hope you all enjoy :)
p.s. I hate tumblr bc I had written this and tried to save it and the app crashed. so this is my poor attempt of recreating a work I was proud of :(
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
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aoioozora · 1 year ago
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Simon is very cat-like in the way he loves, I guess.
Like when you're just washing dishes in the kitchen, he comes up behind you and nuzzles his nose against your neck and your shoulder. He lets out a soft grumble akin to a purr as he rubs his rough stubby cheek against yours and wraps his arms around your waist. He continues rubbing his face against your cheek, peppering a kiss or two, rubbing against your head, your hair, taking in your delicious, familiar scent that he adores.
And when you're just sitting down on the couch watching television or minding your business, you can expect him to hobble over and fall right on top of your lap lazily, looking at you with his beady eyes asking for your attention. And so you lavish it on him. You scratch his scalp lightly with your nails and scratch his back until he lets out that same delighted grunt/purr. He rolls over to expose his soft underbelly and you go ahead and lightly rub his chest and his stomach while giving him sweet little kisses on his face. He closes his eyes and smiles, completely happy. And when he decides it's time to nap (ultimate sign of a cat's trust), he keeps his head on your lap and curls up into a ball, letting you run your fingers through his hair.
Sweet little fella. He got a tiger's knives up his sleeve out in the wild, but to you, he's just like an oversized domestic cat.
[Pt. 2]
[masterlist]
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mysticalmallard · 1 year ago
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Good weird
Description: Ghost girlfriend comes over to stay the night for the first time
Wordcount: 705
Warnings: none I think
CoD Masterlist 💀 Main Masterlist
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Ghost's normally dark and sparsely decorated apartment looked decidedly more lived-in that night as he waited for his girlfriend to arrive. He'd tidied up the place, made the bed, and even bought a vase of fresh flowers for the coffee table.
As the doorbell rang, he took a deep breath, feeling uncharacteristically nervous.
Opening the door, he saw his girlfriend standing there, a mixture of excitement and nerves on her face, with her bag on her shoulder. It was the first time she was spending the night at his place, and they both knew it was a significant step in their relationship.
Ghost stepped aside, allowing her to enter. The two of them stood awkwardly for a moment, both unsure how to break the silence.
His girlfriend smiled at him, her eyes taking in the small but clean apartment."I like your place," she said, her fingers tracing the edge of a chair. "It's very... you."
Ghost chuckled, a rare sound coming from him. "I try to keep things simple," he replied. "Less chance of making a mess."
She walked over to the vase of flowers on the coffee table, admiring them. "These are beautiful," she said, her fingers grazing the soft petals.
Ghost watched her, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest as he saw her enjoying his space.
"I wanted everything to be perfect," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "It's the first time you're spending the night here, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable."
She turned to look at him, a soft smile on her face. "You don't need to try so hard, you know," she said, her voice full of affection. "I'm comfortable as long as I'm with you."
Ghost felt the weight of her words, the honesty and vulnerability in them soothing his nerves. He stepped closer to her, close enough that he could smell the sweetness of her shampoo.
"I'm not used to this," he said quietly, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Having someone else in my space... It makes me feel...weird."
She placed her hand on his chest, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him. "Good weird or bad weird?" she asked, her eyes searching his face.
He took a breath, the feel of her hand on his chest anchoring him. "Good weird," he replied, his voice low. He brought his hand up, covering hers with his own. "Just... uncharted territory for me."
They stood there for a moment, the silence between them now comfortable rather than awkward. Then, a flicker of mischief flashed in his girlfriend's eyes.
"You know, now that I'm here..." she drawled, stepping even closer to him, "there are some things we could... explore."
The implication hung in the air like a promise, and Ghost felt his heart rate pick up.
"Is that so?" he said, his voice going lower, huskier. He leaned in, his lips almost touching hers.
"Very much so," she replied, her breath ghosting over his skin. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing softly over her bottom lip.
She smiled against his touch, then spoke, her voice laced with mischief. "Hey, you know what we should do?"
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Enlighten me."
Her eyes lit up, an idea forming. She placed her hands on his waist, looking up at him with a cheeky grin.
"How about this," she suggested, "we have ourselves a little pampering day. I'll give you a massage, and we can watch some trashy TV. How does that sound?"
His eyes widened in surprise, not anticipating such a suggestion. But the idea of having her hands on him, taking care of him, was definitely appealing.
"A massage, huh?" he said, feigning nonchalance. "And what's in it for you?"
She moved even closer, her hands slipping under his shirt and trailing lightly across his bare skin. "Oh, I get the pleasure of seeing you all relaxed and blissed out. Trust me, it's a win-win."
Ghost fought to keep his cool, the shivers her touch was sending down his spine betraying his nonchalance. "You're lucky you're cute," he said, his hands snaking around her waist to pull her closer.
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miss-vanta-likes-to-write · 2 months ago
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Kyle has a problem. It's an expensive problem. He isn't sure he will financially recover from this. Maybe he should get shot and fatally wounded so he can properly provide for this habit.
The habit in question is his girlfriend.
He met her through Soap's girlfriend. And he should have known it was wrap when Soap's Kuromi themed girlfriend introduced him to her Melody bestie.
He could deal with the limited editions My Melody merch. Could deal with the junk nails (that was mostly for him. Her hand looks so pretty around his dick with a fresh set of nails...he's surprised that's what gets him going.) He could even do the cosplay expenses and the cons.
But he draws the line at his girlfriend, discovering Japanese and Chinese fur suits.
He doesn't mind paying for her hobbies. He learned from Price and his wife, happy wife and happy life and drained balls. (Price's wife had a habit of fucking collecting art, art museums, theater, tattoos and for some reason collecting spoons?)
But when he sees how happy his girlfriend is when the fur suit comes in (and the amazing head he gets after. Soul gone right out his dick and into her mouth). He knows he has to make LT if he wants to fund this lifestyle.
He gets a good laugh, though, at Soap's and his Kuromi girl's housewarming party when the hello kitty friend talks to Simon. Poor guy doesn't know he's about to be in shambles. But Simon looks absolutely enthralled by her (which is just him not looking so angry. )
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archive-doll · 11 months ago
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Little drabble about tiger!ghost thanks to you anon ♡
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trigger warning for alcohol and cigarette consumption, inlove!ghost, scent kink, mention of body fluid (spit) during kisses ♡. Mention of self-harm in the past from his side. broken nose! The underlying smut is there, all in Ghost's mind. Gender-neutral reader! (wear some makeup)
He's so silly and cute, he's ready to throw himself on the ground for reader in a worshipping way.
Minor do not interact. Forgive my grammar. Enjoy.
ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
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He's a deviant. Everybody carved that into him from an early age. Long before the scars, the self-hatred that made him hurt himself, the war that tainted his soul and shaped his body into an unsightly thing, the tip of his tail now missing. An oddity of life, biologically speaking. Hybrids are the laughingstock of society, even when they have the physical shape of a tank like he does. Round ears on top of his dirty blond hair, half a tail remaining, and golden strikes slithering along the edges of his frame.
He's frightening. Ghost is intimidating to most of the people he has ever met. His butchered face, blue veins that mix with the golden scars on his flesh, reminders of a dying man, it all caused the wide stares he receives on a day-to-day basis. He's a fucking monster. An atrocity.
But, here he is. Sitting down on the edge of some disgusting sidewalk covered with discarded chewing gum, broken glass, and smelling of piss. Mask pushed over his broken snout, some flimsy bandage over where the flesh broke apart under the sparring of the cartilage, a cigarette between his rigged teeth.
The most important, though, is the pretty delight by his side, a little bit intoxicated, who kneels in front of him. They're at a respectful distance he can concede, but with the brightest smile he's ever seen. Like they simply came to admire the stray cat in the alley.
Ghost is blinded for an instant, ashes falling from the tip of his cigarette between his spread thighs, eyes hurting from the vision that they are. Soft and beautiful babe with some acne on their cheeks he wants to kiss and shiny makeup painting their eyelids.
And they're talking. To him. They are talking to him, looking at him, a little bag dangling between their fingers. And yes, their words are a little slurred, and their eyes are a little dazed. But they're breathtaking. Simon has half the mind to look around to see if there is anyone here, but he knows they are alone. He can hear the gentle thrumming of their heart.
Anyone sees him and leaves. It's all that ever happened in his fucked up life. With the exemption of Johnny, the highland cattle hybrid buff who isn't scared of anything, no one ever sees him in the darkness and closes the distance. But they did.
They do.
"Your ears are very pretty," they say with a little giggle, and he can feel the blood rushing in his skull at the sudden praise. "So colourful!" There are stars in their eye as they coo his way. Or maybe it's the bad lighting that makes them shine, but Ghost has half the mind to make a wish upon them.
He tries to talk, after a moment where you simply gaze at him with something akin to tenderness of all things, but no word comes upon him. His mind is blank with your melted butter scent, swirling with cooked apple, and his tail salutes in attention with the desire to lick it from the source.
"Oh! Uh, you forgot this earlier," they seem to remember, doughy chin tilting down as their precious hands shift and turn into their minuscule bag before tugging something of it.
It's his wallet. Ghost must be out of his mind, half dying from lack of sleep to forget it behind. Ghost never forgets.
"Don't you want it?" There it is. A little shyness there, a slight curl of their plushy lips he wants to lick their spit from. He's starting to feel territorial now. Thinking about how their scent would change when he drags his teeth along the arch of their spine. Would they flail and tremble?
His cigarette is forgotten on the ground, still burning when he grasps at the wallet. All of the training he received in the military keeps his hand from reaching for them. But his hands shake.
Ghost never shakes. Never waver. A simple smile from you and everything he knows, all that he believes in, is shattered.
"Oh, um. I left my number in there. Call me, maybe? Bye-bye!"
He watches them leave, that little sway of their hand making his heart beat again in his ribcage, mind empty. The air shifts behind him, and his eyes blink. Once. Twice. Before, with a snap of his wrist, he snatches his tail with half the intention of breaking it off.
It makes them giggle, though. The voices are quiet as his claws dig into the tar when he raises to his feet.
"Lil' bird. Ya hav' to drink some wat'r," he grumbles as he stalks behind them, ready to coddle them into his bed.
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© archive-doll - all rights reserved. reposting or modifying, including translating or use on AI is not permitted. original characters are not my own but the stories and the writing are.
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kissesbyliz · 2 years ago
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ghost with a reader who has a voice kink
(feat. simon "ghost" riley)
cw: mdni!! smut ahead, fem!reader, afab!reader
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you were bouncing on simon's cock needily, panting and moaning as you desperately worked to bring the two of you to orgasm. your core was burning in desire, feeling so impossibly horny as you slid his cock into you repeatedly.
sure, his fingers felt so good circling your swollen clit and his cock was hitting you in spots you never even knew existed, but what really did it for you was his voice.
his gruff and husky voice, slightly raspy from barking commands all day, was now directed to you, or rather, your pussy. filthy words slipping from his mouth to accompany his groans. "fuck." he grunts heavily, a big hand coming up to squeeze your waist and guide your movements. "that pussy squeezes me in so well. been craving this dick all day, huh?"
you whimper and clench involuntarily at his words, biting your lip and speeding up your motions as much as you could despite the burn in your legs. fuck, you feel like you could die happy like this, you decide. with simon's cock slipping in and out of your folds and his pretty voice in your ears, getting you even more riled up than you thought possible. you try to hush your own mewls and whimpers in order to just listen. listen to his voice coming out in low groans and his breaths now so decomposed under you, trying to commit it all to memory.
"you like that, princess?" he remarks with a breathless chuckle. "you like when i tell you how well this pussy takes me?" with a whine, you can't help but lean forward, resting your forehead on his shoulder so that his noises are directly in your ear.
"or rather, i think you like everything about my voice." he murmurs quietly into your ear, as if he's telling you a secret. "is that it, baby? you like hearing me moan for you?"
you can't help the way you clench around him again with a high whine. he slaps your ass again, breathing a low, yeah, i think that's it.
all of a sudden, he flips the two of you over. you're now laying against the plush mattress as he positions your legs over his waist. he falls forward and braces his arms on either side of your neck.
"it's all for you, sweetheart. you know that." he grunts into the crook of your neck as he speeds up the pace, hips thrusting into you swiftly. "only for you."
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bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago
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better than home (kidnapper!simon) - you had seen enough horror movies to know that being kidnapped meant being on the news, being butchered, and being a cold case. but simon wasn't like that. except for the bruises he left when he took you, his touch had gentle. kind in a way that someone would brush their cat.
you flinched under his touch, but he just simply shushed you. "not gonna break a thing on ya, angel." that was his name for you. angel. he said that it was like you were given to him fro heaven, "if i do, i give ya the right to put a knife between my ribs."
it was unnerving to say the least. in the tiny home you both shared, locks on the windows, you had never seen a front door that needed a key to unlock from the outside. you tried getting out, but simon was simply so much bigger and stronger, that he didn't need to hurt you herd you back into a safer place.
"don't need to think about much anymore. safer here." he said in his gruff voice. you didn't know what kind of life this man had lived, but with the hunting knife on the coffee table, the well-used rifle over the fireplace and the old army formals in his closet. you knew that there was a story.
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it didn't sink in till the first week, but you didn't have to worry about anything. you moved through the house on your own, when you scurried into rooms simon sometimes didn't follow. it was like he was bird-watching. keeping a close eye and admiring you. except you weren't exactly a free bird, rather a delicate beauty in a shiny cage.
you were surprised that simon had your favourite snacks in the pantry, even the same brand of plant-based milk you enjoyed. it was like he knew everything about you, and yet he was a total mystery.
"scary world out there." simon said, kept his distance from you in the recliner while you were curled up in the couch. you had taken a liking to a black and white checkered flannel blanket. it reminded you of the one back home, that you wondered if he just broke in a took it. he eyed you, which made it hard to read one of your many books, "pretty things like you need to be protected... bad men out there." as if this massive mountain of a man wasn't one of those so-called bad men.
you were in no place to argue. you still felt like you were in a spring locked trap and one wrong move would have it clamped down on you. that this was just some sick game before simon buried your body in the field behind the house.
"when can i go home?" you asked, finding your voice.
"this is better than home."
"are you going to kill me?" you asked before you swallowed the lump in your throat.
he shook his head, "no, ma'am. never." sounded like wedding vows rather than an answer. your curiosity only grew with each day. when you finished the books he brought you, he simply put them back in a bag and returned them from where they came from and came back with new ones.
"saw them on the shelf at the library, thought a woman like you would like them." he gave a curt nod as he dropped the canvas bag by your little nest of blankets on the floor by the television. you hadn't been able to watch television yet. primarily busied with sleeping, books, puzzles and notebooks where you had been writing.
and while it started a journal in the event the police found you. it had become more about fictional stories. for your personal pleasure. you thought about being a writer as a child, but the grind of corporate work in your adulthood seemed to dash that dream.
"next time." you said, feeling a little bold, "can you get some science fiction books too...." it felt uneasy to make any demands. he was your captor.
"well then, angel. be good for me then." he said, smiled under that mask. you looked over and made a face at him. you scampered off back into your nest of books and puzzles. maybe he was right, this was better than home. <3
a/n: this is unwell, i hope you enjoyed it. thank you!!
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springtyme · 1 year ago
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hey babes 💖 congrats on the 2k! you deserve it, i'm literally obsessed with your writing! 🥂 can i request a drabble and moodboard for older hubby price? thank youu <33
𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 ♡
Thank you so much, hun! ♡ I hope you like this, it was so enjoyable to make! (like, boy oh boy, what I wouldn't do to have this man be my hubby)
Main Masterlist || John Price Playlist || 141 Masterlist
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You can’t help but smile back at your reflection as you stand in front of the full body mirror of your bedroom, applying your lipstick, your favourite little black dress hugging your curves as you gently sways to the smooth, melodic voice of Ella Fitzgerald coming from the speaker on your nightstand. 
You’re just so excited for tonight, the first date night you and John have had in months as he has been away at base. You are so engrossed in the music and the happy anticipation bubbling inside your chest that you don’t even notice as John steps into the room at first, but as the rich scent of his cologne fills the air you catch his gaze in the mirror. He truly is a sight for sore eyes as he stands there, leaning against the door frame as he buttons up his dress shirt, a smile playing at the corner of his lips, the most kissable lips you’ve ever known. 
He watches you for a moment, his blue eyes sparkling with adoration as he takes in the sight of you, before stepping further into the room, walking up behind you with determined steps and wrapping his arms around your waist.  “God, you’re stunning,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck. The gentle touch of his lips sends a shiver down your spine. 
“You’re looking pretty handsome yourself,” you reply, turning around in his arms to face him with a smile. His eyes soften as he looks at you, his hand reaching up to adjust your necklace. His fingers trail along your exposed skin, sending goosebumps in their wake as he fingers the pendant hanging from your neck. You can feel the intensity of his gaze as he continues to look at you, his love for you shining through. 
“You’re flattering me, darling,” John says, his voice filled with warmth. “But really, I can’t take my eyes off of you. You take my breath away every time.”
You feel your heart swell with love for this man, this man who never fails to make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. You reach up to cup his cheek, running your thumb along his jawline as you look into his eyes, the stubbles of his beard gently scratching against your soft fingertips. “You always know what to say to make a girl feel special,” you say with a soft giggle.
“It’s easy when all I have to say is the truth,” he replies, leaning in to capture your lips in a sweet and tender kiss. “You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever known, inside and out,” he whispers so softly against your lips. 
You melt into the kiss, feeling the love and passion between you two like a warm blanket wrapping around you on a cold winter night. As you finally pull away, you can’t help but smile at the crimson of your lipstick that’s now staining the corner of his mouth. With a giggle, you reach up and gently wipe away the trace of your crime. But before you can finish, John takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips, planting a soft kiss at the delicate skin of your pulse point before bringing his lips to the golden band of your wedding ring, pressing a soft kiss to the line of diamonds that is encircling your ring finger.
“And I love you so much,” he murmurs against your skin, his eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration. 
You feel a rush of warmth in your chest, your heart swelling with happiness at his words. “I love you too John, more than words can express,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ve missed you so much.”
He pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you close as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. “I’ve missed you too, love,” he murmurs, his voice filled with longing. “But I’m home now, and I’m gonna stay here for a while, I promise.”
You smile against his chest, feeling content and at peace in his arms. The world outside disappears as you revel in the warmth of his embrace, the love that surrounds you both like a cocoon. And as Ella Fitzgerald’s voice continues to serenade you from the speakers you melt into each other, swaying gently to the music, lost in the moment and in each other.
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sheepispink · 4 months ago
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mainly ghost but still tf141 x overstimulated/sensitive! reader SFW
i’ve been so sensitive to sound recently and it’s killing me because my family just loves to speak SO LOUDLY. im gonna die. also mind the spelling, i wrote this in 20 mins
The weeks have been dragging on too long, your throat has been endlessly dry for days and your brain is practically rattling against your skull everytime something enters your ears. Not even the cool nights in spring can ease the burn of your skin, only stinging the teeth marks in your raw lips. It’s all too much, the guilt of not doing enough weighing heavily on your eyes whilst you push your feet to move forward. One more step. Just until Friday. That’s all you’ve been saying since the new year and not once has it payed off.
How much more of this can you really take? The trampled dirt on this abandoned path has been attacking your nose for the past few minutes and the moon may as well be the sun with the way it burns your eyes. It was supposed to be an escape but the howls of the wild animals seem to tunnel directly to your ears, relentlessly digging its way through and into your brain. Covering them wont even help, not when your hair feels oily despite being washed that morning and a sticky residue still remaining on your hands despite how red they are from scrubbing the drink a rookie spilled everywhere.
And yet it’s still thursday. Still another full day of this; another twenty four hours one thousand four hundred and forty minutes, eighty six thousand and four hundred seconds more of this.
“Sergeant?”
Your brain snaps awake, every single sense disappearing as you look to the side, noticing your Lieutenant. A gun is held in his hand, a cloth in the other from his meticulous cleaning routine. Though what’s got you more confused is the hand that roughly pulls your shoulder back, making you stumble.
“Why—” You finish your own sentence as you stare at the giant puddle you were about to step right through and likely soak your entire calf. “Oh.”
“What had you thinking so hard you almost drowned?” He tugs you to walk around it and you follow, stepping into a comfortable pace that aligns with his. You’re tempted to roll your eyes though, you definitely wouldnt have drowned from a puddle.
“The usual.. y'know work and all.” He nods as you sigh, falling quiet for a moment before he begins again.
“Never took you for the distracted type.” As much as you gladly took any conversation your gruff superior rarely shared with you, you were suddenly praying he’d just shut up. He’s usually silent so why not this time?
“Oi! You think this is a joke?”
Ghost glances over at the rookie being yelled at by his officer, letting out a gruff chuckle. “Havent missed hearin’ those.” He hums lowly, turning to face you again only to be taken aback by the pained expression on your face, wincing at the loud yelling. “So that’s what it is..”
It’s not long before he’s got you in the task force’s common room, signalling to Soap with a finger to his lips and then a nod towards you who follows in a haze. You’re exhausted, that’s for sure, but overstimulated was definitely your main diagnosis. Soap gets the jist quickly, standing up to dim the lights a little, before walking over to the kitchen to grab you a glass of lukewarm water. Not too cold, and definitely not warm either.
You’re like putty in Ghost’s silence, letting him do whatever he pleases as long as he stays silent like that; even if it means he’s got you snuggled against the cushions, the water glass in your hand thanks to Soap. The telly is turned on, only emitting a low hum of a stupid sitcom the team’s been invested in recently. It’s calming, quiet and the blanket placed over the three of you is way too tempting for Gaz not to join in too, forcing you all into a comfortable squeeze.
Though it wouldn't be quite complete without Price settling on a nearby armchair, the faded scent of his cologne somehow wafting towards your nose. Soap’s arm rests around your back, a comfortable unmoving weight, but his shoulder is an even better pillow as your brain starts to give into the peaceful atmosphere—a gloved finger gently rubbing the back of your hand.
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chaoscreaturewrites · 2 months ago
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Call of duty, Price, ghost, drabble, short
Part 3 of COD shorts
Masterlist
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Y/n- “Can someone explain why I'm being assigned to this mission?”
Ghost- “ [tactical jargon]”
Y/n- “In small words please”
Price- “ moral booster”
Y/n- “ how do I do that?”
Price- “ you do it naturally”
Y/n- “Oh, okay… do I get a gun?”
141- “NO,No,No,No”
Y/n- [sighs with disappointment]
Ghost- “ you get a vest and helmet”
Y/n (puppy dog eyes activated)- “ can I put stickers on it”
Price- “ yes”
Y/n- [ sounds of joy as she runs off to get supplies]
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