eyelambspider

[eyelambspider]

Omg I love stone. I love his dreamy eyes and voice. My gosh. ❤️

May please ask for a request 🙏

stone overheard fem reader over the phone with her mother. Fem reader tells her mother about stone. Fem reader is gushing over him. Like how strong he is, dreamy eyes, his voice, etc.

How would he feel?

(again, i'm so sorry for replying to this so late!) i too love his voice sm, this man is on the mind

Little 'Chit-Chat'? || Stone

┊pairing : stone x fem!reader ┊content warning : fluff, (un)established relationships ┊a/n : this is like a mix of hcs and a drabble lol

Stone isn't doing anything particularly interesting when he happens to walk by your door. His name a hushed whisper through the door:

"...Stone..."

His name stops him in his tracks, masked face turned towards the sound of your voice with a flicker of surprise that quickly morphs into curiosity.

You were talking about him?

About what?

He wouldn't hesitate to stand up against the wall, pretending to do something while he strained to listen to your conversation.

(Or just shamelessly presses his ear up to the door)

When he actually overhears what your saying: that you like the way his eyes look through his mask, the rough cocky voice of his, how much you've seen him lift on the field and the way he's built...

"Strong" was the word, wasn't it?

Under his mask he has the BIGGEST grin on his face, and an ego to match

Especially since you're telling all of this to your 'mummy' of all people.

"Telling your folks about me already, love?" he'll tease you.

Yup, once you're done with your little 'chit chat' on the phone Stone is there with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes lit with a mischievous glint

Stone already thinks a bit highly of himself, but to hear you admit that about him- it's just the cherry on top of it all!

(Whether your in a relationship or not) he'll tease you mercilessly about it

He thinks its cute, but won't explicitly tell you that. His form is... reminding you cheekily every moment that you find him 'irresistible' ♡

[eyelambspider]

Can I please ask for a request?

Harry stone hc. Plz?🥺

firstly, im gonna have to apologize for being so late to reply (ᵕ—ᴗ—) secondly, i have written them: behold

Harry Stone General Hcs

┊content warning : fluff, domestic fluff, smut/nsfw, mentions of smoking/drugs ┊a/n : a little bit of everything in here so-canon/hc, smut/fluff... ft. a voiceline clip i finally found smh

His birthday is May 6th, 1948.

So, he is a Taurus and around or older than 36 years!

likes doing crossword puzzles, like usually packs one of those small cheap crossword books you buy at the gas station. And its already crammed half-way full of the ones he's already solved

HUGE fan of rock and heavy metal

AC/DC, Metallica, and Mötley Crüe but goes to about every show he can, when he can

Is 100% shit wasted at a concert, always on the floor and in the mosh pits when he can be (or finds it hilarious to watch)

Smokes weed

(^^ completely based of his bo6 skin and completely perfect)

Always says what's on his mind (good or not). a very blatant man.

absolutely does what he wants and chooses his loyalties deeply

like despite seeming like well-how he is-if he believes in something or someone, he's going to commit to it with every fiber of his being

swears like a SAILOR. its literally second nature for him

i feel like he frequently plays videogames/is online (?) i.e. based on this voiceline in particular

at least definitely likes scrolling on his phone when he's bored

and probably knows more about media and the internet than people assume (god help us)

man canonically has a mustache

secretly finds it extremely attractive when someone has soft, thoughtful and soulful eyes

don't get me wrong, he can appreciate a person with a nice ass especially... but sometimes the way someone glances at him just right just- gets under his skin

likes to tease/piss people off when he can simply because he thinks its funny

he is pretty easy-going but definitely knows when to put his foot down and isn't afraid to be assertive

i feel like you can simultaneously know everything about this man and then nothing. he's an open book with his emotions or lack-there-of and yet, keeps so many goddamned secrets (and likes to keep it that way)

mask ain't coming off

don't think he'd actually have much scars or anything under his mask either. sure, enemies have tried to pull it off or target his balaclava and face before but none have been successful

is trained to fall asleep quickly and find rest when he can, but does not mean he's a heavy sleeper. he will wake up at the sound of a pin drop

is a horrible cook and doesn't try much outside of making some monstrosity for himself late at night

(nsfw) loves quickies and receiving blowjobs

loves seeing his partners face during sex and the sounds they make because of him.

is rough when he's really pent up (which is usually considering his job)

but also just needs days where he's laying in bed with his partner. time to relax and where he can take his time with their body, teasing and loving them until the world finally shuts out

[eyelambspider]

Do you write for Nikto? I'm curious about your interpretation of him

honest to god- i don't... but i would

yk?

i don't know much about his character or how other people interpret him but i'd honestly love to try my damndest if y'all wanna see that. (i feel like he's a character i could really love)

[eyelambspider]

she's coming back (mori)

[eyelambspider]

Destinations (part 1)

[eyelambspider]

hey I love ur writing.

Can you please do like any other the cod men x a chubby reader who's rlly self conscious and stuff??

idk it's rlly self indulgent

ty ♡ and its alright, I write readers like this! as for the characters and content, i sort of put a bit of everything for you soooo- here ya go!

♡ Hold You || COD Hcs

┊pairing : gn!reader x price, gaz, soap, ghost ┊content warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, nsfw, angst ┊a/n : the last hc zaps my brain so fiercely

soap! unprompted would always compliment you. its assurance, sure, but he genuinely loves your body.

soap! will always steal glances at your hips, waist, arms and hands. he would love physical affection in anyway. cuddling, or always having a hand on you gently. (it happens so often that he doesn't even notice he's doing it)

soap! is speaking to someone but his fingers are gently rubbing formless circles on your thigh or brushing his knuckles against your soft hands as if he wants to hold it.

price! would love your thighs. to feel them warming his ears and over his shoulders, his face nestled in your heat and savoring you with his tongue.

price! doesn't let you try to squirm away or try to hide if your shy. his hands are always on your hips and sides, skimming up under your shirt to feel your stomach.

the taskforce men who especially love to trace the stretchmarks on your skin. fingertips gently marveling at how soft the skin is.

ghost! just picking you up like nothing despite your worried protests. his hands sliding under your thighs and ass to hoist you up onto a counter to kiss you and smother your mumbles.

ghost! likes when you wear what you like. he might not say much when he first catches you wearing a shirt that's not baggy and actually fits you well. his brown eyes always linger a bit too long in their usual 'nonchalant' manner before they soften, like he's smiling under his mask.

gaz! this man would love sleeping with you. you are the warmest damned thing he's ever held and it shouldn't surprise you when you wake up the morning to have him practically laying on you. his head on your chest or stomach, arms on either side of you and body between your legs.

gaz! has boundless patience and time solely for you when you're having a really bad day. crying and so unsure about your body and how you look. anything you need, he'll get it for you. sitting with you, tucking a blanket around both of your laps and letting your head rest on his chest until your mind is off of it. whisper assurances that you're perfect into your temple... but most importantly, just hold you close.

(with love from @lady-boketto) ghost! sending you a video of him bench pressing your weight when you try to worry about him carrying you all the time.

[eyelambspider]

♡ Let Me Worship || Soap & Ghost

⤷ summary : soap and ghost will show you how good they think you look & make you feel even better

┊pairing : john "soap" mactavish x gn!chubby!reader x simon "ghost" riley ┊content warning : nsfw (like pure smut), fluff, nipple play, hair pulling, marking/biting, threesome, body worship, (light?) spanking ┊a/n : this is written with no gender in mind (hopefully it works for any gender reader), if not, plz lmk and i will write for different gender versions! love ya & happy valentines

Soap had just happened to be walking by your room one day. Casting an idle glance to the side at your open door before he paused, stopping dead in his tracks to look back again with wide eyes.

"Steamin' jesus."

You were standing in front of the mirror, eyes trailing down your form, wearing the new outfit you had picked for yourself. Fingers smoothing over your thighs in a way that made Soap's breath hitch. His baby blue eyes drinking in the sight like a man starved.

So enraptured, in fact, that he hardly registered the fact that Ghost was wandering over, his brows furrowed suspiciously as he approached. Wondering what had the man slack-jawed and practically drooling like a puppy.

"Soap, the fuck are yo-" Ghost peeked his head into your doorframe, following the sergeants gaze and immediately going stiff. His brown eyes widening and following the hypnotic vision of you pinching your hips, an unsure frown dancing across your lips.

"Fucking hell."

It led to where you were now: smooshed lovingly between the two of them, unable to feel anything but their greedy hands sliding and groping your body reverently.

"Fuckk me," Soap groaned beneath you, sweat beading against his forehead as he moved your hips up and down on his cock, urging you to rest all your weight on his thighs. To let him feel every inch of you pressed against the hard planes of his body. Bouncing you up and down, the rough skin of his hands gripping into your plush hips hungrily. Meeting yours with a buck of his hips, sinking over and over again into your sweet heat with wanton groans. "Ye feel so good," he panted, unable to hold back the urge to lap and suck at your pulse point. His teeth raking over the sensitive skin, fighting the urge to bite and leave a love bite.

"You look even better," Ghost grumbled, voice noticeably huskier than usual under the fabric of his balaclava. His brown eyes were glued to the erotic sight below him. Gaze traveling over the scarred, hardened expanse of his chest and belly... watching in a hypnotic daze as the thick ridge of his cock plunged in and out. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen: His hips slamming gently into yours, the worn pads of his fingertips searing into the thick flesh of your waist. Holding you down against Soap while he watched your ass bounce back onto him.

Soap groaned against your throat, lapping up the taste of your salted skin, rolling his hips up to fuck you even an inch deeper.

You little whimpers and moans only spurred them both on, and Ghost grinned lazily at the sight in front of him.

He moved his hands slowly, unable to help a caress and a pinch along the way, sliding his rough palms around and up to your belly. Holding you tight and squeezing. God, he couldn't help but lean over you a little to feel just how soft you were against his strong arm. He stole a moment, panting against your ear and breathing you in... before he stood up straight again, carding his fingers through your hair and tugging gently. "Come on love, arch that back baby," he coaxed, able to fuck you harder.

It gave Soap the prettiest view. Your throat and chest glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, eyes teary and rolled in bliss as the two of them fucked you.

"Jesus, weel, look at that..." Soap leaned his face forward, given the opportunity to capture one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. Suckling and biting gently on the nub in a way that made you clench and cry so fucking sweetly. He didn't stop-fuck-he couldn't.

The sergeant wrapped his hands over the expanse of your ass, giving a dirty squeeze before he spread you for Ghost. A little 'thank you'.

Ghost groaned, feeling a deep shudder wrack through the base of his spine. He couldn't take it anymore either. His cock throbbing and weeping already from the stimulation... and how fucking tight you were.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," he growled, tugging your hair a little harder to hear you whine, "Your body just feels too fucking good," Ghost praised lowly, panting hotly under the balaclava that was now sticking to his face like a second skin from all the sweat.

The two of them were close, gripping and growling like men possessed. Squeezing and groping your body in the best possible way, marveling and worshipping how soft you were against them. How fucking sexy you were taking their cocks so perfectly. Your hips, your thighs, your waist, your stomach, your ass. All of it.

"FUCK!"

[eyelambspider]

♡ Short 'n Sweet || Gaz Drabble

⤷ summary : (gn!reader) gaz is about to pop the question & finds he doesn't know how to say those four 'simple' words

He had been building up to a moment like this for months. The timing of it all couldn't have been more perfect, either.

To him, you were the picture of perfection. Sitting across from him with an easy smile lingering on your lips. Eyes lit up and twinkling softly under the dim fairy lights. Your soft hair framing your temples and face like a halo.

Seeing you like this only hardened his resolve. Only made him even more sure:

He was going to marry you.

He was going to ask you one of the most profound questions that occurred in a persons lifetime... one that could very well ingrain this night forever into both of your memories.

Maybe something to look back on lovingly; ten, twenty, thirty years from now.

Well-assuming you said yes... and assuming he could even find the courage to pop the question.

'Fuck sakes, Garrick,' the thought rang through his head. The sound of his heartbeat swimming in his eardrums like a timer, the opportunity slipping from his fingers like warm sand.

Get it together!

The small velvet box was already in his hand, out of view. A diamond ring bought months in advance, wearing down the denim of his back pocket after all this time, waiting for this moment, just like him.

Gaz squeezed your hand a little tighter, grinning breathlessly as doubts flickered across his mind.

What if you said no? What if all those times you had promised that you loved him, had been a lie? A lie that fell short of how much he loved you?

What if he got down on his knee, right now, and made an idiot of himself?

Proposing. No one could teach you how to do it, no father, no mother, no grandfather. There was no protocol for moments like these, no guidebook, no failsafe's... and it was terrifyingly beautiful. He could count on both hands how many times his life had nearly ended while in the line of service, and yet, not a single one compared to this. Not even close.

"I need to ask you something," he began, marveling at how his hand trembled slightly in yours. Trying to quell your slight concern and questions welling up in your eyes by brushing his thumb lightly over your knuckles.

After everything he had been through in his life, nothing scared him more than asking you to spend forever, with him.

Even if his heart stuttered in his chest, he finally sunk to one knee and showed you the diamond ring he had bought with all his pride and love. A symbol of devotion he hoped-god, he fucking prayed-you would like.

"Will you marry me?" he finally asked, a hopeful-nervous grin pulling at his lips.

[eyelambspider]

♡ Cocktail Parties || Ghost

⤷ summary : (fem!version) arguing with you right before an undercover op wasn't... the smartest, because now he has to watch you flirt with strangers. link to male!reader version!

┊pairing : simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader (dress wearing reader), tf 141 mentioned ┊content warning : (un)established relationship (you can choose), jealousy, anger, slight angst, suggestive, arguments, mentions of drinking/alcohol, men & women flirt with reader ┊word count : 1.5 k ┊a/n : ashgfhsgjg j- nothing- :)

The night was still young, on the crest of dipping into the rich gala that embodied upper-class society: Women and men alike danced in a whirl of sequins, satin and silk. Flaunting bubbling flutes of champagne and pretty lies. Bodies, throats, and wrists fitted snuggly and dripping in diamonds.

It was truly a party for the top one-percent of society. The extravagant guestlist filled to the brim with cold business moguls, old money, the famous, and the beautiful. Each bumping shoulders with glittery laughs and white smiles.

It gave Ghost a headache. Watching through the lenses of his binoculars as the crystal chandeliers glinted off the marble ballroom and directly into his retinas.

The operation had only 'officially' started merely an hour ago. The moment your shiny shoes kissed the floors below. And Ghost had come into it pissed.

Coiled up tighter than a snake and twice as twitchy, just a hair's breadth away from lashing out at the first thing that interrupted his brooding.

Price and the others had noticed, but decided not to comment on the Lieutenants hard-set jaw and his white knuckle death grip on the binoculars.

The three remaining member of Taskforce 141 exchanged knowing glances. Each of them knew it.

The two of you had fought before this.

About what? Nobody was going to ask. Not with him silently seething and muttering curses over the comms like a dreary static.

To say they were utterly relieved to be positioned away from him was an understatement. Eager to give the Lieutenant his space.

It left Ghost to his own thoughts, propped on the roof of the venue, looming over the edge of the intricately crafted glass dome like an ominous shadow. Giving him the perfect opportunity to watch over you-the Taskforce's trump card-as you gathered information on the ground and mingled.

Tonight, the collective mission was to get close to the target. To pick up information on most of the guests here, even a little. Each guest having their hands in less-than-legal business ventures. One man in particular... DeLuca or some asshole-ish name along the lines... who cared.

Ghost had something more important on his mind tonight.

He hadn't taken his eyes off you since you'd stepped foot in the building. The sight of you was enough to punch a hole clean through his chest and leave him burning up on the edges.

You walked the floor like you owned it, had to make sure of it to blend in with such an elegant crowd. A grin pulling at your lips, dripping with a natural charm that made hearts flutter. Eyes turning kindly towards whoever spoke to you or tried to catch your attention. Returning needy, simmering glances with a coy, knowing tense in your shoulders.

That was it. He was going to break these stupid fucking binoculars clean in half-

but ffuck-! He couldn't!

It would leave him without a way to watch you properly.

Ghost grit his teeth instead, suddenly forgetting to breathe under all the tension that was building up in his muscles. His legs were stiff. The one he was knelt on completely numb from the position, and his biceps were locked in a fierce bundle of (what he was convinced could only be) residual anger from your fight.

You moved through the fray of millionaires with a casualness that alluded confidence. Not afraid to gently part through the mass of high maintenance bodies and figures in a bid to get closer to the target on the other side of the ballroom. It caught the attention of those around you in a way that didn't bother the Captain, but rather, the Lieutenant.

The patrons of the party not looking with suspicion... but desire. A desire to know the woman who was walking with a quiet purpose and without a second glance back at them. When their time was worth thousands... you seemed to spare not a second on them.

Ghost couldn't even remember what the two of you had been fighting about. The entire gist of the argument flying out of his head as he watched. They all looked at you like they had a fucking chance in hell with you. It made his blood boil. The sounds of his contempt catching over the comms. "Fucking-... bloody b-... always-..."

Women with dark made-up lashes let their gazes fall over you as you passed, offering tiny giggles. Men trying to step into your path 'accidentally' and introduce themselves. Vying for your attention, or at least, your name.

Ghost had been so caught up in the fight. So angry and refusing to be anything less than right that he hadn't seen you since earlier today. Had missed the way you had gotten ready for the operation-for the party.

You had cleaned up well. Hair trimmed and styled neatly, a few locks dropping tantalizingly near your temple. And... "fuck me" Ghost muttered inaudibly... Your black dress fit your body like a dream. Sleek and elegant, enhancing the curves of your shoulders and chest, sinched to a fault at the waist.

Ghost felt a heat begin to bloom over his body and trickle down to the swell in his pants. Drinking in and savoring the sight of you even if he stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. His brown eyes followed your silhouette, eye wandering down the soft curve of your hip and the slit in your dress that revealed the supple skin of your thigh... The sleek fabric made your legs look...

Fuck, you were beautiful.

He shook his head and grumbled some more, still trying to huff in defiance of how he felt. Even if he was still heated, it was for an entirely different reason now.

Within range of the target, you stopped just short of Deluca's social circle by picking up a bubbling flute of champagne to avert suspicion. Before you could even pretend to bring the rim of the glass up to your lips, a woman's hand clasped gently over your shoulder, running over the fine fabric of your dress with a perfectly manicured caress. A soft, sharp smile dancing across her lips as she stepped in front of you, inviting herself into your space seamlessly. Her hand lingering and trailing down your bicep before she pulled it away.

Ghosts gloves creaked in protest again as he gripped his binoculars tighter. Watching her eyes rover over your face, tracing your jawline with a bone-deep confidence in herself. Had Ghost been down there, no one would lay a hand on you like that. No one would even be able to fucking shoot you a longing glance.

The man who accompanied her followed, debonair and smoky, reaching out a strong hand to shake yours in greeting. He bowed his head, gripping your hand subtly and leaning forward in order to steal a more intimate glance. His eyes flickering down to your lips before a grin pulled at his cheek and he stepped back.

The two making easy conversation with you.

"That cocky fucking bastard," Ghost seethed, attention zeroing in on the walking trust fund in front of you.

It was part of the operation. He had to tell himself that to keep his fucking head on straight.

You were in the best spot to pick up chatter from the target behind you. Indulging in laughs with people who had learned how to carry one without a second thought.

And there wasn't a fucking thing Ghost could do about it except watch. The way people teased and flirted so openly with you, stealing touches and glances. Drinking you in like the sparkling bubbles they held flawlessly between their fingers. All haughty gazes and blatant interest.

It made Ghost's stomach and chest roil with disgust. A deep heat settling over his body. The anger that once simmered in his veins was now laced with an even uglier emotion: unbridled jealousy.

No. After this fucking farce of an operation was over and you were back with the team... He was going to find you. Fuck-! you were his the moment you stepped out of this building.

The thought made his body flutter with rage and lust. The idea of having you alone now, in that dress of yours and all to himself, was a dangerous one.

You were going to get an ear full after this... fuck, maybe more. The image of his own hands running over your dress flashing into his mind. Hiking your leg over his waist, kissing you until your pretty hair was disheveled and your dress rumpled under his hands.

Those rich pricks would get an eye full of you now-let them-because he was going to be the only one to see you writhing and blushing beneath him at the end of the night.

[eyelambspider]

♡ Cocktail Parties || Ghost

⤷ summary : (male!version) arguing with you right before an undercover op wasn't... the smartest, because now he has to watch you flirt with strangers. link to fem!reader version!

┊pairing : simon "ghost" riley x male!reader (suit wearing reader), tf 141 mentioned ┊content warning : (un)established relationship (you can choose), jealousy, anger, slight angst, suggestive, arguments, mentions of drinking/alcohol, men & women flirt with reader ┊word count : 1.5 k ┊a/n : men & women flirt with reader bc god it makes me happy to write and i know it would piss ghost off too- really hope you enjoy reading ♡

The night was still young, on the crest of dipping into the rich gala that embodied upper-class society: Women and men alike danced in a whirl of sequins, satin and silk. Flaunting bubbling flutes of champagne and pretty lies. Bodies, throats, and wrists fitted snuggly and dripping in diamonds.

It was truly a party for the top one-percent of society. The extravagant guestlist filled to the brim with cold business moguls, old money, the famous, and the beautiful. Each bumping shoulders with glittery laughs and white smiles.

It gave Ghost a headache. Watching through the lenses of his binoculars as the crystal chandeliers glinted off the marble ballroom and directly into his retinas.

The operation had only 'officially' started merely an hour ago. The moment your shiny shoes kissed the floors below. And Ghost had come into it pissed.

Coiled up tighter than a snake and twice as twitchy, just a hair's breadth away from lashing out at the first thing that interrupted his brooding.

Price and the others had noticed, but decided not to comment on the Lieutenants hard-set jaw and his white knuckle death grip on the binoculars.

The three remaining member of Taskforce 141 exchanged knowing glances. Each of them knew it.

The two of you had fought before this.

About what? Nobody was going to ask. Not with him silently seething and muttering curses over the comms like a dreary static.

To say they were utterly relieved to be positioned away from him was an understatement. Eager to give the Lieutenant his space.

It left Ghost to his own thoughts, propped on the roof of the venue, looming over the edge of the intricately crafted glass dome like an ominous shadow. Giving him the perfect opportunity to watch over you-the Taskforce's trump card-as you gathered information on the ground and mingled.

Tonight, the collective mission was to get close to the target. To pick up information on most of the guests here, even a little. Each guest having their hands in less-than-legal business ventures. One man in particular... DeLuca or some asshole-ish name along the lines... who cared.

Ghost had something more important on his mind tonight.

He hadn't taken his eyes off you since you'd stepped foot in the building. The sight of you was enough to punch a hole clean through his chest and leave him burning up on the edges.

You walked the floor like you owned it, had to make sure of it to blend in with such an elegant crowd. A grin pulling at your lips, dripping with a natural charm that made hearts flutter. Eyes turning kindly towards whoever spoke to you or tried to catch your attention. Returning needy, simmering glances with a coy, knowing tense in your shoulders.

That was it. He was going to break these stupid fucking binoculars clean in half-

but ffuck-! He couldn't!

It would leave him without a way to watch you properly.

Ghost grit his teeth instead, suddenly forgetting to breathe under all the tension that was building up in his muscles. His legs were stiff. The one he was knelt on completely numb from the position, and his biceps were locked in a fierce bundle of (what he was convinced could only be) residual anger from your fight.

You moved through the fray of millionaires with a casualness that alluded confidence. Not afraid to gently part through the mass of high maintenance bodies and figures in a bid to get closer to the target on the other side of the ballroom. It caught the attention of those around you in a way that didn't bother the Captain, but rather, the Lieutenant.

The patrons of the party not looking with suspicion... but desire. A desire to know the man who was walking with a quiet purpose and without a second glance back at them. When their time was worth thousands... you seemed to spare not a second on them.

Ghost couldn't even remember what the two of you had been fighting about. The entire gist of the argument flying out of his head as he watched. They all looked at you like they had a fucking chance in hell with you. It made his blood boil. The sounds of his contempt catching over the comms. "Fucking-... bloody b-... always-..."

Women with dark made-up lashes let their gazes fall over you as you passed, offering tiny giggles. Men trying to step into your path 'accidentally' and introduce themselves. Vying for your attention, or at least, your name.

Ghost had been so caught up in the fight. So angry and refusing to be anything less than right that he hadn't seen you since earlier today. Had missed the way you had gotten ready for the operation-for the party.

You had cleaned up well. Hair trimmed and styled neatly, a few locks dropping tantalizingly near your temple. And... "fuck me" Ghost muttered inaudibly... Your black suit fit like a dream on your body. Tailored and pressed to perfection, boldening the lines of your shoulders and chest, sinched to a fault at the waist.

Ghost felt a heat begin to bloom over his body and trickle down to the swell in his pants. Drinking in and savoring the sight of you even if he stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. His brown eyes followed the hard line of your belt, the way it hugged your hips as you walked, before his gaze wandered and traced the steamed line of your pants. The sleek fabric made your legs look...

Fuck, you were handsome.

He shook his head and grumbled some more, still trying to huff in defiance of how he felt. Even if he was still heated, it was for an entirely different reason now.

Within range of the target, you stopped just short of Deluca's social circle by picking up a bubbling flute of champagne to avert suspicion. Before you could even pretend to bring the rim of the glass up to your lips, a woman's hand clasped gently over your shoulder, running over the fine fabric of your suit with a perfectly manicured caress. A soft, sharp smile dancing across her lips as she stepped in front of you, inviting herself into your space seamlessly. Her hand lingering and trailing down your bicep before she pulled it away.

Ghosts gloves creaked in protest again as he gripped his binoculars tighter. Watching her eyes rover over your face, tracing your jawline with a bone-deep confidence in herself. Had Ghost been down there, no one would lay a hand on you like that. No one would even be able to fucking shoot you a longing glance.

The man who accompanied her followed, debonair and smoky, reaching out a strong hand to shake yours in greeting. He bowed his head, gripping your hand subtly and leaning forward in order to steal a more intimate glance. His eyes flickering down to your lips before a grin pulled at his cheek and he stepped back.

The two making easy conversation with you.

"That cocky fucking bastard," Ghost seethed, attention zeroing in on the walking trust fund in front of you.

It was part of the operation. He had to tell himself that to keep his fucking head on straight.

You were in the best spot to pick up chatter from the target behind you. Indulging in laughs with people who had learned how to carry one without a second thought.

And there wasn't a fucking thing Ghost could do about it except watch. The way people teased and flirted so openly with you, stealing touches and glances. Drinking you in like the sparkling bubbles they held flawlessly between their fingers. All haughty gazes and blatant interest.

It made Ghost's stomach and chest roil with disgust. A deep heat settling over his body. The anger that once simmered in his veins was now laced with an even uglier emotion: unbridled jealousy.

No. After this fucking farce of an operation was over and you were back with the team... He was going to find you. Fuck-! you were his the moment you stepped out of this building.

The thought made his body flutter with rage and lust. The idea of having you alone now, in that suit of yours and all to himself, was a dangerous one.

You were going to get an ear full after this... fuck, maybe more. The image of his own hands running over your suit flashing into his mind. Hiking your leg over his waist, kissing you until your pretty hair was disheveled and your tie was askew.

Those rich pricks would get an eye full of you now-let them-because he was going to be the only one to see you writhing and blushing beneath him at the end of the night.

[eyelambspider]

your art is so perfect, and this is so beautiful 😭

blue eye blast on patreon 💙💥💙

[eyelambspider]

Hello! I really enjoyed your König/Krueger x gn fic

Please don't see anything i say as criticism

I just wanted to say that i speak german and i really don't want to seem rude but you could correct a few phrases. I know Google translate isn't the best and german is a weird language

So first of : "so fest schlafen" is german but it doesn't really make sense. Usually you would say something like: "schon so tief im Schlaf" when you want to say someone is already asleep, if you meant something different and it was lost in translationplease let me know I'lltry to help.

Then: "I'm keeping Mein kleiner Liebling warm" isn't gender neutral. " I'm keeping meinen Kleinen Liebling warm" would be correct. "Mein kleiner" is male

And lastly

"Liebe" is female

"Lieber" is male

And there is no gender neutral form. You could use Schatz again because both genders use it to refer to your partner

I really don't mean this in a mean way, i loved your fic i just wanted to let you know. Please don't see this as any type of criticism

100% anon i am not offended :) thanks for letting me know, i'll start trying to change the fic's translations! and keep all this in mind!

it... wouldn't really be gender neutral if it wasn't.... gender neutral...? lol

of course, i do not speak german, so thanks for looking out for me 🫰💕 and being so nice about it!

p.p.s. i thanked you in the credits

[eyelambspider]

♡ My Cuddles! || König & Krueger

┊pairing : könig x gn!reader x sebastian krueger ┊content warning : fluff, slight jealousy, cuddles, a little suggestive, swearing ┊word count : 1.3 k ┊a/n : look-sometimes you just need two masked men who want to fight for your cuddles alright? *sobbing defending myself*

It was going to be a long fucking night, that much was for sure. The night watch duty was torn between the three of you: König, Krueger & Yourself.

With your hour already done, it was time to get a bit of sleep before the next one.

With the masks hanging ominously over their faces. The two Austrian men watched as you walked with a heavy step over the the only bed in the dim cabin. Eyes and intents hidden under dark fabric that blanketed their faces, neither relenting in their quest to keep their identities hidden.

Yet, both heads turned subtly, trailing after your retreating form.

Krueger was sitting in the corner of the one room cabin, shucking quiet pieces of wood onto the ground. Digging his blade into a piece of wood as he carved it out and looked it over, pretending to keep busy even if his eyes flickered over and stole a glance at you taking your boots off.

König meanwhile, was standing by the window, arms folded over his chest and leaning against the wooden walls. Glaring out into the dark snowy night, making sure nothing shifted or moved out there. Pretending somewhat that his blue eyes weren't also flickering occasionally across the room to watch you slip under the covers of the blanket.

Your soft, satisfied sigh made them both momentarily pause. The sudden tension in their shoulders making the two men glance at each other.

Krueger's sniper veil swayed slightly as he considered König, and König's eyes turned icy, brows furrowing. A silent shared sentiment passing between them.

They were both thinking the same thing.

Krueger was the first to move, nearly jumping to his feet. Setting his rough carving down on the table, twirling the blade between his fingers before sheathing it back into his belt.

Under his hood, König's mouth hung open slightly at the man's audacity. Watching rigidly and slightly panicked as the veiled mercenary stalked over to the side of the bed, looming over you with an aura of mischief.

"Sleeping soundly?" he murmured, leaning over to gauge your expression better. The edges of his veil bristling against your arm as he whispered, "Cold, schatz?"

Before you could turn and address the sudden intrusion, Krueger was already slipping his boots off and crawling in behind you with a grunt. Throwing an heavy arm around your waist as if he's done this a thousand times before.

König's eyes widened, the shock evident through the small windows in his mask. His watch completely forgotten the moment Krueger lifted his head up, checked to see that König was looking, and with a seemingly satisfied-smug-gesture, his arm tightened around your waist... pulling your body flush against his own. Your ass pulled back against his hips.

If Krueger could see the tall snipers face, he'd bet there was a vein throbbing against his temple, ready to burst.

König's eye twitched, gloves creaking in protest as they balled up into tight fists.

He crossed the room in a few strides, looming over the other side of the bed and damn near ripping the blanket off. "Was zum Teufel!" he whisper yelled harshly, icy eyes glued to Krueger's body against yours like he wanted to strangle him. "What the fuck are you doing!?"

Krueger hardly flinched, resting his chin on your shoulder innocently-the bastard. "I'm keeping meinen Kleinen Liebling warm."

"You are making things uncomfortable!" they continued to whisper shout to each other, as if you weren't quite literally stuck between the argument to protest yourself.

Kruger huffed, reaching a gloved hand to tilt your chin his way. Able to see your face over your shoulder.

Your face was the picture of perfection to him. Inviting, surprised, and a beautiful dark blush blossomed across the bridge of your nose, spilling onto the architecture of your face.

"Are you uncomfortable, schatz?" he purred the name out, unable to help the way his body was starting to react with you so close. You fit so perfectly against him... like you were made to fit in his arms. The bubble of warmth between your two bodies pleasant... and your hips pulled back against his was giving him ideas.

König watched on in horror and Krueger's gloved hand gave your hip and experimental squeeze. The color draining from his skin the moment you shook your head quietly. The blush painting your complexion all-telling.

König had no fucking choice but to back up then, if you had no protests then there shouldn't be any further discussion...

but he watched as Krueger cuddled his veiled face into your hair, breathing you in enthusiastically as you tensed. His actions making your pulse visibly jump under the delicate skin of your throat. Krueger's arms wrapping more firmly around your waist... wandering up to try and splay across your chest- and no way he was going to take that any longer.

A surprise to everyone, König had lifted the blanket hastily, inviting himself into the tangle of limbs.

A small surprised squeak came from your lips, the bed dipping as König climbed in quickly, his own arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into his chest. The two of them beginning to fight like two little boys on the playground.

"Verdammt, du großer bastard!" Kruger hissed as your shoulders were pulled away from his chest, the cold filling in your sudden absence. He gripped at your hips a bit harder, determined to pull you back.

"Halt die klappe! Du kleines arschloch!" König gritted out, much stronger than him.

Both of them huddled closer, leaving no inch for you to even squirm away. Their bodies brushing and squishing you lightly between them.

König reached over your shoulder, pushing insistently against Krueger, trying to peel him off your body like a bug. The sniper's hard chest and arm barring you against him.

Krueger was hardly taking the sudden childish act, retaliating with his own. His leg shuffled between yours, kicking at König's shins, trying to push him out of the bed that he had claimed first.

"Hey," you whispered, between their little scuffle. König's hand pushing at Krueger's veiled face, smearing his head away, while Krueger's foot was getting closer to kicking König in the balls. The two not noticing your growing exasperation.

"Hey!" you finally shot up, their limbs halting to glance up at you. For a moment, both feared you would get up and leave their arms empty. And just like that... they calmed, listening despite the scowls on their hidden faces.

"Both of you... just... be quiet and go to sleep... or don't, I don't care," you muttered, falling back into the bed with a soft thump.

The two of them watched your face quietly before turning to each other. An ominous 'you almost fucking ruined it' aura seeping from both of them.

"Just... stop fucking moving," you murmured sleepily. As much as they were, the two of them were actually really warm. Wrapping around you like the worlds best weighted blanket.

You relaxed against them, letting your eyes flutter closed to find a moments peace. The feeling of you softening made both of their heart flutter dangerously in their chests.

Begrudgingly, they complied, muttering quiet curses.

König cradled your head close to his chest, smoothing down your hair with an almost imperceptible touch that belied his size, your leg bent delicately over his own... and Krueger held your hips, wrapping a gentle arm around your stomach, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. The quiet and calm finally seeping into the cabin.

everyone give anon a kiss for helping & correcting the translations :)

[eyelambspider]

♡ Strawberry Shortcake || Stone

⤷ summary : stone's smoking when he suddenly realizes you look really fucking good, enough to start fantasizing about you ♡

┊pairing : harry stone x gn!reader ┊content warning : mention of drugs/smoking, swearing, nsfw, stone and his horni thoughts, lap sitting, shotgunning ┊word count : 1.6 k ┊a/n : completely inspired by his bo6 skin

The dry filter of the blunt pressed against his dry lips like an angels kiss. Reverent and duly satiating his thirst for that divine high.

Stone sighed softly, the nicely wrapped joint dangling between his lips as if it were made to sit there. His iconic green balaclava was rolled up in order to free his mouth for a well earned smoke. Exposing the stubbled expanse of his pale throat and jaw. Hints of a moustache peaking out from under the hem but still hidden by the knitted fabric.

Normally, he wouldn't have done something so... hasty—like rolling up his mask—but fuck he was dying for a buzz.

The fact you were sitting across from him was hardly a deterrent either.

Stone flicked the wheel of his lighter, cursing as it sparked but never caught. "Piece of shit," he murmured, the joint sticking to the edges of lips while he spoke.

Of all times...

The pad of his thumb ground against the small metal wheel, the skin already rough from the countless times he'd done this.

Click. Click. Click.

Until finally, the damned flame sparked to life. "Thank fuck," he muttered, uncharacteristically gentle as he cradled its warmth and brought the lighter up to his lips. The pearly paper caught and burned before ebbing into a low simmer. Finally getting what he had wanted since this whole 'operation' had started:

A fucking smoke.

He set the lighter down on the armrest, leaning back into the loveseat he had taken up residence on. Sinking into the old cushions as if he hadn't a worry in the world.

Stone finally closed his lips around the filter, breathing in low and deep, allowing the sugary sweet smoke to skim across his tastebuds and fill his lungs.

"Fucking hell-!"

Stone suddenly pitched forward, the burn of the smoke forcing him to expel a series of almost violent coughs and wheezes.

From where you sat, your eyes flickered up with a glint of discontent, watching as smoke began to pool around him in a thin fog.

The mission-the one you were both supposed to be doing-was to track and report on the small cafe across the street. Noting who came and went through its doors, and more importantly, waiting for your target to show up.

And yet, despite your protests, Stone had still managed to conjure up a blunt to smoke.

You didn't even need to say it. Stone could already feel the contempt rolling off you in waves as he cleared his burning throat, still snickering and coughing until he relaxed back into the loveseat with a soft thump.

"Didn't expect this shit to be so bloody sweet," he explained with a raw tone, pointing with the end of the joint as if to prove a point.

Wasn't sure what kind of weed he bought-didn't care either-but he wasn't expecting the smoke to taste like maple sugar and vanilla. Sweet wasn't his thing.

It didn't matter though, because just as quickly, Stone was bringing it back up to his lips, taking another long drag and letting it sit like cotton candy in his lungs. The second hit becoming easier.

He breathed out deep and smooth this time, the light grey smoke billowing out in soft plumes in the space between you two.

He sat back, utterly relaxed as he watched the smoky tendrils lick and curl upwards towards the ceiling in an intricate, formless dance.

For a few minutes, his slowly reddening eyes dilated and zoned in on the sight... before his eyes focused in on your form from beyond the thin veil of smoke.

Your head was already turned to the book perched in your hand, eyes always flickering to the side to watch and lookout for the target. Probably pissed that he took his 'break' to smoke...

You both knew he wouldn't be able to swap out and take watch for a while. Not while he was high.

"You're a bloody buzzkill, ya know that?" he piped up with a grin.

When you didn't respond, he didn't push it. No point in poking for a fight when all he wanted to do was sit back and enjoy the quiet; Now that he had time to smoke his weed 'n all.

Stone let his head loll against the cushion of the chair, angling his blue eyes upwards. Both of his arms were now slouched up on the armrests, his legs spread wide and comfortably.

A lesser man would've fallen asleep right then and there.

He pulled the joint from his lips, tapping the ash onto the motel carpet.

The initial burn of the blunt had rubbed his lungs raw. The feeling akin to breathing in a fine, powdered glass. But slowly the elegant pain wore off and filled itself in with a syrupy feeling that warmed his chest and spread out towards his fingers and toes.

Every nerve in his body begun vibrating and buzzing pleasantly. The high wrapped around his ribcage like an angels wings and staying there. Light and feathery.

Stone had to fight the urge to chuckle at the feeling. Like his body wasn't made of lead anymore... but rather: replaced by a soft cloud.

The room now smelled acutely like a carnival; Candy apples on a hot day, the smell of cotton candy and popcorn.

He licked his dry lips, remembering to reach up a heavy hand and pull his balaclava back down. The silence in the room stretching on.

He heard the sound of you flipping a page in your book, and suddenly propped his head up. Not particularly fast, but the movement made his vision swim and stretch. Trying to blink into focus.

For one reason or another, Stone seemed completely captured by your presence. His blue eyes couldn't let go. Watching as the dappled sunlight filtered through the window next to you, highlighting the supple curve of your cheek and lips.

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath.

The masked man nearly jolted at the sudden perverse grumble that slipped from his lips... so profoundly surprised by the sound that his eyes widened slightly.

Where the fuck did that come from?

For a moment, he'd worried you'd heard the odd sound... but you didn't seem to notice. Thank fuck-... but... not being caught right away made the thoughts come flooding back just as quickly.

Your lips, your hair, the curve of your neck and throat.

His eyes kept drinking you in, roaming down your body with a soft hot desire. The buzz in his veins only making the situation worse for him.

The blunt was making him really fucking horny, filling his head with heady images and fantasies of what he'd like to do to you should he be given the chance.

Kiss your lips swollen, bite them until they were raw and you whimpered into his mouth. To tangle his hands in your hair and tug at your scalp. Wrap a hand around that throat of yours and just-bite or suck or squeeze a bit-

"Fuck" he muttered again, realizing he was sinking further and faster into the deep end. Getting worked up for... 'no reason'?

Stone pried his eyes away, trying to loll his head back again and focus on the bland popcorn ceiling above...

But he was getting fidgety, his leg bouncing softly as he tried to think of literally anything else-but all he could think of was fucking you.

The seat of his pants began to tighten, cock swelling beneath the denim at the mere thought of being buried in your heat.

He tried to hide his erection subtly, placing his free hand on his lap and covering it some.

Couldn't just take a smoke and relax, could he? Of course, the sweet blunt and smoke swirling in his head had to make him horny.

He tried to curse the feeling, but couldn't find a real push to do so... His body felt too good. Too alive.

So, he lifted his head again, stealing another glance at you.

Its not like you were doing much. Just sitting, chin in palm and reading. Eyes darting off to the side to watch the cafe... too wrapped up to notice he was painfully hard and fantasizing about you sitting in his lap instead.

Straddling him, wrapping those legs around his and seated on his thighs like you belonged there.

He shuddered involuntary at the thought, wishing and hoping you'd sit all your weight on him right about now.

He'd wrap his arm around your waist and pull you down onto his lap. Grind your hips against his in a way that spoke of a primal, instinctual need that was building inside of him. To cradle the back of your head and card his fingers through your hair. Hold your face so close to his that your noses would brush. Your soft looking lips skimming over his teasingly. He'd take a drag of his blunt, reveling in its sugary sweet tang before he pulled you close, waiting for you to part your lips so that he could kiss you. To breathe the warm smoke into your lungs, to feel you breathe him in like you needed him just as badly as he needed you.

To share a smoky breath like it was both your first and last.

Stone let out a shaky breath, panting softly as white-hot desire wracked through his body. His eyes were red around the edges now, blue eyes blown wide with a mix of THC and lust.

His leg never stopped bouncing, and he tapped the ash of his joint back onto the carpet again. Silently debating what or how he was going to fix the problem now throbbing insistently against his zipper.

[eyelambspider]

Spider. Eye. Lamb. || COD/Outlast Au

⤷ summary : you and him. together you'll be the ones to make it out of the trials... (drabbles/hcs)

┊pairing : könig, gaz, price x gn!reader ┊content warning : mentions of gore/death/blood, horror, pining(?) finding comfort in each other ┊a/n : ffffffuck! i love the outlast trials! (forgive me i like scary games) also: for god sakes, i'm doing chapters/scenarios for this

▹ König

Its nearly impossible for König to hide while in the Trials. He can't fit into the lockers quickly (or the barrels), so he opts to linger in the darker rooms with the burnt out bulbs.

so. he's usually wearing his night vision goggles or his eyes are adjusting to the dark. leading him to be more anxious and feeling exposed in brightly lit places.

Because of his size, König can break through the wooden boards blocking doorways with one kick if he needs to run.

Other reagents (people) in the sleep-room are afraid of him and tend to stay away. He looks too similar to the Prime Assets in the trials, with the cut up pillowcase over his head... and his height.

it doesn't help his mental health, not talking to much people in the sleep room... but the doctors seem to like him. If not only for his physical build.

sometimes, König comes to the metal door of your room and stands there, unsure how to really ask but- he likes laying with you on your bed. the two of you laying there in each others arms for nothing more than the comfort of being with another person who... knows how scary it is.

König likes to protect you in the Trials, intervening just as the grunts try to bring down their weapons on your prone form by shoving them off violently.

▹ Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Gaz is the quietest and is hardly seen by those who roam the halls and rubble-filled streets of the trials.

he always has a lockpick on him, and often uses it to open up medical supplies for himself. always proving to be especially resourceful.

Uses bottles to throw and distract the enemies when he works.

Gaz is one of the braver subjects to be put into the trials, always taking risks and evading the prime assets and enemies by a hair.

Gaz's biggest fear in the trials is that he is too good at it. Trials become easier and easier, but it messes with his head to think that instead of getting this horror show over with as fast as possible-he's actually doing exactly what the doctors want him to do.

Is it just survival... or is Murkoff's twisted form of 'treatment' actually working?

Gaz likes talking to you.

Well, having your company. He doesn't open up about what he thinks and fears. Just sort of... sits with you and chats in the cafeteria during meal times.

And on the shuttles (from the sleep room to the Trials) Gaz likes to sit across from you, even with the TV in front of his face, and the bars on the side of his head (forcing him to watch)... he likes knowing you're right there. Likes reminding you to be angry instead of scared, "Fuck the doctors-remember that-fuck the doctors!"

You actually might be the reason he's still resisting the treatment. He tries to protect you from feeling as... as desperately terrified of becoming what the doctors want.

▹ John Price

Price hates to get paired with you in the Trials. Solely because he'd hate to see you hurt but... "its good to see a friendly face"

Price would do well in his trials, ranking a grade average 'B'.

It would be better, but he despises being apart of these sick games and 'messes up' on purpose.

(When you're afraid in the Trials) Price grabs your shoulders and forces you to look at him, keeping you grounded and giving you something to focus on other than the threat of dying. "Just get the key, alright? Its got a little black star on it. You get it and bring it back here... and we'll both get out of here. Won't let anything bad happen to ya," he assures.

In the sleep-room, Price always tells you to come and play a game of chess with him. "No buts." He knows it will distract the both of you for a while, and if you don't know how to play, he's got all the time to teach you.

(When you don't make it back to the exit) Price always waits for you, has to watch you enter the transport himself to make sure you're okay. And when you don't, he gets antsy, glancing at the red timer above the door that says you have only three minutes... "Fuck," he decides, turning his back on the exit and beginning to run back into the Trial to find you.

he likes taking care of you, gives him something else-something more important-to focus on outside of the trials.

if anyone was getting out of the trials, he'd hoped it'd be you

[eyelambspider]

Maya's arms and back- she's so gorgeous 😭💕

[eyelambspider]

Stream Starting Soon! || COD Hcs

⤷ summary : 141 just so happens to watch some of your streams !

┊pairing : tf141 x twitchstreamer!reader ┊content warning : fluff, pining, sfw, swearing (by me smh) ┊a/n : again, a prompt recommended by @lady-boketto that had me in a chokehold

honestly, who knows how it starts... but one day gaz and soap figure they've both 'off-handedly' seen one of your clips and liked you.

the two of them talk more about your streams after that.

a murmur between two friends... occasionally holding their phones up to show each other new clips and vods of yours...

maybe they both secretly sub to your channel without the other knowing...

whatever the two of them 'chat' about though, ghost and price initially don't pay them much mind

until soap finally shoves the phone into ghosts face and forces the masked man to watch

ghost actually quirks the smallest grin under his mask at one of your clips

its you playing a horror game and getting scared (he loves your horror streams)

price on the other hand, picks up the chatter about you and fills in the blanks himself

each of them thinks your cute, with ghost and price usually having their eyes on your webcam instead of... whatever game you're playing

Once, price caught the three of them huddled together. supposed to be gearing up for a mission. And instead its Soap and Gaz sitting shoulder to shoulder, snickering to themselves and nudging each other knowingly while Ghost stands, glancing occasionally over their shoulders while pretending not to care. When caught, they expect price to scold them, but the captain just sighs and nods "Come on then, lets see it"

they all watch it.

soap actually gifts some subs to you, just to rub it in everyone's faces that you thanked him and said his name

yes, he plays the clip to annoy the others. its saved in his phone "just for that reason"

ghost and gaz eventually follow you on your other platforms, but only gaz would bring it up in conversation

ghost cannot be caught looking personally at your stuff

price on the other hand, just likes to relax on his off days. remembering how calming your voice is when you're 'just chatting' or playing something relaxing and falls asleep with your streams playing in the background

(opening fan mail) soap would send a gag gift to you (him and ghost snorting as they watch you open it)

ghost would get you a stuffed animal/plushie, which he's surprised to learn that the little thing is still sitting on your desk, in full view of the webcam.

they all think its fucking hilarious when you rage, slam shit, or just turn away to cool off

(hear me out) all their phones pinging-in sync-to notify that your stream is starting...