#mw3

[skulldetergent]

i don't think that soap is a picky eater AT ALL. but whenever he doesn't like the taste of something, he will slip it onto ghost's plate, who absolutely inhales everything that is given to him

[k6tzie]

sub graves .

the loud squelches echoing in his ears did very little to help him from blowing his load for the second time in five minutes. the cum and lube were all mixed together on his cock and your hands, which were furiously stroking his cock.

both your hands were wrapped around his thick length while you jerked him off using a screwing, twisting motion that made his legs twitch and jerk. each time your hand rubbed over his tip, fingers rubbing along his frenulum on the downstroke, his head jolted, his abdomen visibly tensed up.

“it’s so wet, oh my god…i'm so fuckin'-." graves whimpered helplessly, you could swear you saw his eyes getting teary. he was unable to process what to do with his hands as he went from gripping his hair, to the sheets, to your wrists, his unusually weak grip doing little to cease your strokes. his hands that had taken down soldiers loosely clung onto your wrists, "mmmn- stop." his body betrayed his words.

“it feels good, huh?" you teasingly ask. you want it tighter?” you ask, your voice so sarcastic and sultry, only adding to the intense ache graves felt in his cock, strained. he shook his head furiously, biting on his bottom lip to fight back a moan. his hips unintentionally bucked up into your grip “no, god- no i- i’m gonna fuckin' cum if you do that.” graves whined, his voice so breathy and broken, poor baby.

his moans filled up the room, grunts and whines he was previously trying to hold back now spilling shamelessly into the open air against his will. ignoring his words, you squeezed your hands harder around his cock and put extra pressure on the downstroke when you rubbed your thumb

over his pink, angry tip, twitching under your soft hands.

he was leaking so much precum it was hard to tell whether or not he was cumming. his body was jolting and jerking around, his face permanently screwed in pleasure, the deep dusting over his cheeks that matched his flushed tip, it was so beautiful.

“baby, baby- i said no, d-don’t do it tighter i’m gonna- fuck! i’m gonna cum-" graves cried, his voice breathy and high pitched, cracking slightly as he did his best to try and warn you that he was dangerously close, closer than you thought he was. you were only able to moan softly in response when graves released a long, loud whine of pleasure as his warm seed shot out of his cock.

the pearly white cum coated your hands and his cock, the mess had started to drip down graves' balls and between his thighs, making a mess on the bedsheets. his mouth fell ajar as his body was wrecked with twitches, his eyes fluttered back in his head each time a streak of cum was released from his sensitive tip. his head pushed against the wall.

when graves' spurts got weaker, you brought your thumb up to his tip and started rubbing against his frenulum, trying to coax more cum out of him. he released a yelp in response, "oh fuck baby."

i haven't written in months btw go easy on me :( also pls leave suggestions!

[clay-mations]

Drew some Soap and Ghost :3

Perhaps someday I’ll render them (probably not)

[spiltspit]

Keeping it tactical ✔️

[boodarko]

the 24 karat gold labubu saved johnny (canon ending)

[fludderpy]

Soap’s boots barely made a sound as he walked down the hallway of the safehouse. The corridor was dimly lit, with only a soft glow spilling out from the slightly open bathroom door.

“Morning, LT. I’m heading to the others, you comin'?” he asked as he passed by the door.

“Morning. I’ll join you in 10. After the mess from last night, I need a fucking shower first...” Ghost replied.

“Alright” Soap said as his gaze shifted to the crack in the door that his Lieutenant had probably left open by accident.

A moment.

Ghost stood in the shower, his back to the door. Water ran in long streams down his body. The overhead light illuminated the scars on his skin, each one a testament to battles fought and survived, like pages from a war diary.

Soap had seen him naked countless times—changing, patching wounds, washing off the grime of missions.

Get a grip, Johnny. It’s just Ghost. It’s always been Ghost.

But this time, it felt... different.

(More exclusive art on patreon <3)

[naditwombly]

"Can i have your sweater LT?"

_________

PRINTS on my shop: link in bio 🫶🏻

MORE ARTWORKS [NSFW Stuff] and RENDERINGS on p@treon: link in my bio 🫶🏻

[yuriko240]

“johnny?”

“who’s johnny?”

[temeyes]

biker ghost? biker ghost.

[skulldetergent]

ghoap height difference appreciation post✨️

[emmster]

the true mw3 ending

[chamomiletealeaf]

Sending a video to Simon while he’s on deployment of you humping your body pillow in your cute lace baby blue panties with a little pink bow on the front, aka, his favorite pair, making sure he can see the now dark blue spot in them from soaking yourself.

You’re panting, squealing Simon’s name bouncing your ass on the pillow while you straddle it rubbing your twitching clit back and forth on it.

You have the camera positioned behind you to get a full view of your ass and pussy from behind and when you cum in your panties you make sure to arch your back so Simon can see how wet your orgasm made you.

He sees the video and immediately locks himself away in his bunk for the night, roughly fisting his cock over and over to you moaning his name, the soft jiggle of your ass and thighs, and the way your cunt just gushes for him like his own personal little cam girl.

God he can’t wait to get home.

[spiltspit]

I just think johnny could convince simon to wear a kilt

[yawnderu]

There's only 3 people Simon follows on social media. Gaz, Soap... and a pornstar he's been obsessed with for months.

He loves coming back from missions and seeing you promoting your new content on Twitter, always getting fucked by a different person— never the same man or woman twice.

He'd be lying if he said he doesn't think he can fuck you better than the men jackhammering into you without care, or the women who keep staring at the camera rather than focusing on your lovely body. He could do it so much better, stuffing your pretty cunt full of eight inches of thick, veiny meat.

Warm water runs down his body as he rubs his throbbing cock, calloused hands toying with the angry, red tip before he smears it all over his shaft, almost cumming at the wet sound that rings around the shower when he jerks off again.

His leaking precum sticks to his hand, begging him to keep going while he scrolls down your Twitter. Half-lidded brown eyes struggle to stay open when he sees a new photo of you, groaning at the way your bright smile overpowers the thick cum smeared all over your lovely tits, looking so proud of finishing another man off and getting marked.

His boner is almost painful at this point. He's sure his arm is going to get a cramp after this, but he's too far gone to care.

Simon's fantasies run wild as he keeps scrolling and liking your new content. He's barely lucid enough to register the newest video, looking at the skimpy clothing you're wearing being ripped off by an older man, cock thrusting into you wildly, almost punishingly. There's nothing more lovely than your expression when you get penetrated, wide eyes looking at the camera and pretty lips turned into an "o" shape before you smile, clearly enjoying every single inch of meat stuffed into your needy cunt.

“Fuck.” His hand works faster down his shaft, the familiar tight feeling in his heavy balls returning while he lets out a low moan. A tidal wave of euphoria hits him when his half-lidded brown eyes return to the video, muscles flexing and tensing up as he releases thick ropes of cum onto the floor, letting the water wash it away.

His hips buck uncontrollably as he squeezes the last drops of thick cum out of his cock with a couple of low groans, hand finally slowing down.

His muscles finally relax, chest rising up and down while he tries to recover from the intense orgasm. He can't help but look at the ropes of release being washed away, secretly hoping they were in you instead.

His phone vibrates in his hand, and he immediately looks at it with a raised eyebrow, breath catching in his throat when he reads the notification announcing that you follow him back.

Part II | Part III

[fludderpy]

They had more time than usual…. 🤭

(Find the full version here ✨🫶🏽)

[madsfrank]

Imagine Simon beating himself up over you…

It’s late at night in the barracks, the task force had almost lost you to a bullet wound embedded in your side, another hour without treatment and you would have been lost for good. You lie in your quarters, having been treated and given fluids that you needed to live, when suddenly you hear a heavy knocking at the metal door.

It’s Simon, his knuckles are bloody from hours using a punching bag without thinking, his mask halfway on his face to reveal him as a panting mess still sweaty with effort. With your permission, he cracks open the door halfway, just to stare out at you in the faint glow of the room.

“You can come in Si, I can’t see you like that.”

He shuts the door softly. Afraid to rouse you anymore from needed sleep. Once enveloped in the darkness you were using to rest, he is dragging himself over to you and leaning over your frame in a manner far too intense for you in such a state.

“Si? What’s wrong?”

As you reach your hand up to his masked jaw, he suddenly takes your wrist in a heavy grip and forces your hand on his cheek.

He says nothing yet, closing his eyes to the touch and letting his breathing slow as he reminds himself you are alive….he had lost himself in hours of training and needed to remind himself that the mission was not a total failure, you were alive.

He would prefer it if you punched him, let him know how foolish it was to let you slip away from him, let him know it was all his fault and—

Instead he settles for breathing you in, muttering that he’s glad you didn’t leave, but the muttering becomes more of a groan as you try to pull him to bed with you, mewling at your gentle touch.

He’d prefer not to be seen like this, but then why would he have come to your room, other than to fall into your embrace and remind himself he’s grounded.

As he lies with you, he tells himself that someday soon he’ll take the mask off, only for you. You’re the only one that can see him like this.

With that thought, he lets himself drift off with you.

౨ৎ-Masterlist