#★ call of duty

[v3lvetde1uxe]

Okay I've read so many fics of Simon "Ghost" Riley with you as his smaller s/o (which i eat up everytime) and how he purposefully places stuff on the top shelf so you always have to ask him for help everytime you need something and how much he loves it.

So imagine how confused he'd be when you don't ask him for help for a long period of time even though he continues to always place items he knows you would need on high shelves.

Little does he know that you had quietly bought a stool so you could finally reach for the things you need without his help since you feel bad for always needing his help for the simplest thing (you don't realize he does it on purpose and just thinks he always places the items on the top shelf since he is a big guy).

Simon only discovers the reason of your lessened pleas for help when he sees you in action. Using the stool you bought to reach for something in the top shelf.

And oh boy was he pissed. Not at you though! He actually found it cute, still having to get on your tippy toes even with the stool. But words could not describe the hatred he felt for the bloody stool that kept him from being your knight in shining armor (he's overreacting, very petty about it).

And waddya know? The stool was in pieces the very next day. A raccoon must've got in and made the stool it's victim, Simon claims. And you highly doubt it since Simon always has the doors locked shut along with the windows without fail. But also decided to not think too much of it and just get another stool next time you have the opportunity, which will soon also end up in pieces whether you like it or not.

[fawnchives]

me and my tall muscular fictional boyfriend 🌷💭🍰🧸♡

[hiddencircus]

JOHNNY LAYOUTS! | requested by @wiltedrosier

likes & reblogs are appreciated! | reblog if use

[dimepdf]

𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘, 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄.+ 𝐊Ö𝐍𝐈𝐆

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. you miss König a lot, and every time he comes back, you make sure to make up for lost time.

pairing. König x reader

genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, dating headcanons, established relationship, smitten, relationship fluff, size kink, height difference, slight dom/sub, slight choking, cowboy position, save a horse ride a cowboy | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍 800+ w.c.

König as your broad nervous boyfriend is awkward not in the way that he stutters while trying to talk, but in the way that he simply cannot maintain eye contact without his third leg appearing.

König would be so afraid to even touch you sometimes since he's just towering over you and packed with so much muscle, and he's been literally trained to kill one of his fears, which is that he might accidentally break you into two.

And it doesn't completely help that you find that idea so fucking hot. Often would you tempt the poor man's neglected, touched starved soul. 

Combing the nails of your fingers against his scalp as he rested his head against your thigh dozing off, cupping his chiseled jaw, and placing a kiss against the corner of his mouth leaving just a hint of sweet flavor from your lip balm that has him tongue dragging over his bottom lip every time as if he was starving for your kisses.  

Unwinding him like a ball of string at your will, the second you crawl into Konig's lap, demanding his attention, straddling your thighs against his, he knows just from the look in your eyes just what you've been fidgeting all this time for.

The acrylic of your nails made crescent nail marks into the thick build of his neck as you tilted his head up, just like you had managed to take so much authority from him. König seemed to feel most at ease whenever he was in your presence.

Being out on the front lines and surviving all that trauma and violence König had practically grown up in the rough of the fields, knowing that he had gotten his footing in the military when he had just turned the required age too.

He was well aware that coping with his bad anxiety through violence and expressing his emotions solely through brutal combat was both dangerous and extremely unhealable. 

Luckily, a new addiction came along to replace some of that pent-up hatred: the moment he had laid his eyes on you, he had fallen face-first in love with you.

You had always been the one to make the first move for everything, and if you hadn't introduced yourself and been forward with him the day you two had met, König was convinced that he just wouldn't have the guts to even look in your direction.

The six-foot-ten man with muscles bigger than the spread of your thigh who still managed to melt into a flustering mess of nothing every time you kissed him

König was everything you could have asked for and more in a man, whimpering at your small praise and strings of worship in your eyes. 

When you first met König, he just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Finally having a break from his mission, he and the crew took the night off to wind down with a few drinks at one of your town's bars. 

It was impossible for König to blend in like the others, even sitting down, because his height made him stick out like a sore thumb.

You being the naturally born go-getter that saw the window of opportunity and snatched it. 

It was your forwardness that also made König struggle to not stumble over every slightly suggestive comment that you made about him.

That forwardness was also the reason he would become a whining, sweaty mess, his hands gripping onto the cushions of your couch as if you were trying to snatch his soul. 

The deep moans that slipped from his throat made him sound like a modern-day porn star from how needy you were riding him. 

His head slouched back with his eyes squeezed shut, saying your name as if it were a prayer. 

Just the sight of him all unraveled and begging had added fuel to the fire that had been lit inside. "Uh—ah, I missed you so much," he would whimper from under you.

You understood that his field of career had him traveling for long months, possibly to a different country every night, with the possibility that he wouldn't come home to you alive.

Which was why every time he did it, you showed König how much you had truly missed him by fucking the shit out of him.

Holding him down against the mattress with the weight of your body as you rode him, each thigh spread, straddling his hips in place, you met the pace of his needy thrusts.

You wanted to savor moments like these forever, knowing that you were the only one allowed to see König so desperate like this and that you were the only person that had the power to distract him from the job that he dedicated his entire life to.

🔖 ?

tap here to be added to taglist.

literally was writing this in the emergency room minutes away from getting operated on, please my vitals nurse for pretending not to see my google docs sheet.

[franabz]

★ Task Force 141 Band AU

(my asks are open for whoever has questions or is interested in the concept!! feel free to slide in)

Soap would be the drummer, and a damn wild one at that. He was never really good at singing and has a tendency to hide away in his garage to slam away on his drum set like the gates of hell were opening up. He usually performs without a shirt due to how sweaty and overheated he gets while performing, simply personal preference. Like Price, he is also a massive enjoyer of mosh pits and sometimes begins playing even harder as he watches the crowd dance around and head-bang like a pile of fish. He loved it.

Gaz would be the bassist/background vocalist, always keeping on rhythm and adding that extra flair to each song that it just needed. He has a very nice singing voice, but is way too stage shy to be the lead vocalist, though many fans wonder how he could be so scared with the sultry voice of a godsend. Despite his shy demeanor on stage he is very upbeat and enthusiastic with each note played, whether it be head bobbing or full on hopping around stage like a lunatic when he is in the zone.

Price would be the manager and rhythm guitarist, easily the most experienced of the bunch. He is the one that organized the idea of a band and gets the group gigs and whatnot. On stage he is pretty laid back and reserved, though he does get very into the music. He also isn't very good of a singer due to constant voice cracks or flat notes because of his smoker lungs, something he refuses to quit despite best efforts. Despite his reserved demeanor, he absolutely loves it when mosh pits start, often tossing guitar picks into the crowd and watching the audience roar in shouting and cheers.

Ghost would be the lead guitarist and vocalist, though not very interactive with the fans. He has a deep and gruff baritone voice, one that makes the ladies swoon at just the mere thought, though he quickly learned to not pay any mind to it. When in the zone, he's an absolute beast. Fingers flying across the fretboard like it was the last song on earth, sometimes so hard his fingers would start bleeding all over his guitar; though he doesn't seem to care. Nobody had ever seen his face, which furthermore adds to the mystery of the masked guitarist.

The group was going through a dry spot in their gigs and decided it was time to find a new addition to the band; you.

Price decided to take the band to a local bar that was currently hosting a bands night, the perfect opportunity to find potential candidates to fill the secondary background vocals position. Everyone was on board with the idea of a new member, being enthusiastic about it if anything. But not Ghost.

"They'll all be shite." He'd repeat like a broken record, as if that would do anything to change Price's mind.

Now here they are, seated in a secluded part of the bar and scoping out the crowds like hawks, the soft intermission instrumentals and the dimmed yellow lights mixed with the lingering scent of alcohol and cigarettes filling the musky air.

Soap came back from the bar with four shots, setting the glasses onto the sticky wooden table and sliding into the booth beside Ghost, a small smirk across his lips.

"Figured ye needed some liquid courage b'fore tae bands c'me out." The Scotsman chuckled over the overlapping noise of crowded patrons, raising a hand to give Ghost a firm pat on the shoulder, one of which caused him to grumble something inaudible under his balaclava.

"Ts' all useless." Ghost grunted, raising the edge of his balaclava briefly to take a sip of his lukewarm bourbon, curling his lip in disgust. "You ever stop complainin', Si?" Price huffed, placing a cigar between his lips and lighting the other end with a cheep lighter, the thick smoke pooling from his lips and wafting into the air. "Jus' being realistic." He jeered, watching as the lights of the pub began to dim and the stage-lights brightened, illuminating the stage. A stage manager emerged from behind the wings and gently tapped the top of the microphone before clearing his throat and addressing the audience.

"Good 'fternoon everyone! I hope you are all havin' a good night!" The man spoke, his voice quickly followed by an uproar of applause and cheering. Gaz laughed lightly at the enthusiasm; mainly from the piss drunk bar patrons. "To start off this night, let's all give a warm welcome to the first band of the night, Woodland!" As he added that final segment, the audience roared even louder as the stage manager handed off the microphone to the lead vocalist of the band, a girl by the stage name Vixen.

As the band started loading on stage, Price was vigilantly scanning each member for potential candidates, already mentally rehearsing what he would say as a proposition to whoever he deemed fit for an invite. Ghost sat in his booth with a quiet scowl across his face, though it was mostly hidden by his balaclava. Everyone seemed the same as the rest; too cocky for their own damn good. He scoffed and leaned back in his seat, folding strong arms over his broad chest and reached for his shot glass, before pausing briefly, a flicker of interest crossing over his gaze as one member in specific crossed the stage and grabbed their microphone; you.

This was about to get interesting.

[asterias-corner]

(trying to get art block off my ass)

Made a roach ref sheet/color sheet so i can draw him better! And keep his design consistent.. in my style!

anyone want some more headcanons? Blinks innocently :3

• he listens to Adrianne lenker

• he is stupidly good at juggling, mostly does it with oranges (then chucks it full force at any poor soul walking past) (usually gaz)

• he does in fact switch out the patch on the front of his vest (goes from American flag to British flag, thinks it’s funny)

• very good upper body strength

• paints his nails funky colors, sometimes soap will help him out

• plays tic tac toe with himself

• he’s the kinda kid that would do cartwheels and gymnastics all recess (lost talent though)

• wanted to play guitar, never was able to bring himself too

• hums songs 24/7, closest thing people get to his voice

• AUTISM BEAM RAHHH (he’s autistic, but not diagnosed, hush)

• doesn’t really care about gender roles, he WILL wear a dress and ROCK IT!

• AROMANTIC KING!!!

[bicmason]

Alphabet NSFW — Simon "Ghost" Riley.

★ Synopsis: An alphabetical list of Simon's sex life with Reader!

★ Warnings: fem!reader, swearing, Mentions of abuse/rape, some kinks, not reviewed, NSFW (yk yk).

A = Cuidados posteriores (como são depois do sexo)

– He hugs you, sighing and smiling at you.

> "It was good, right? I hope I didn't hurt you too much..."

– He says many things in your ear, caressing your skin before getting up.

> "Shall we take a shower? Or would you prefer to stay in bed a little longer?"

– Normally, he prefers for you to take a shower, but if you ask him with that smile of yours that melts his heart, he will stay in bed, just cuddling and resting in each other's presence.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

– I think Simon is a breast man. Whether they are small or big, he loves your breasts. He loves to suck them, make them dirty, and then rest on them. It has a good meaning for him. He feels good and comfortable.

– And for him, he likes his voice. He loves how whispering some dirty things in your ear makes you want to fuck him right then and there. The way that when he comes up behind you, whispering how beautiful you look today and every day, you grunt softly, looking at him with doe eyes without him even touching you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

– This man loves cumming on your breasts! please let him do this.

> "Your breasts look so beautiful with my cum on them..." He says in his arrogant voice, spreading his cum on your nipples right before sucking on them.

– And also, inside you. God, the sight of you in a post-orgasm mess, with his cum leaking out of you? This man is ready to fuck you again!! :(

– He has the feeling and certainty that you are his, his to fill and fuck until you get tired, and after that, you are his also to love and be able to trust.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

– As much as he hates showing many things to you in public, his mind has wandered once or twice to the idea of fucking you in front of people. Of course, in a place that is not commonly seen, but soldiers definitely pass by there.

– The idea wandered into his mind, but he quickly brushed them aside, after all you are his, and only his, he doesn't want to share the sight of your beautiful body with the guys.

– As a bonus, he also took a pair of your panties to the missions. He loves masturbating to them, since he doesn't have your touch, at least something with your smell.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

– He is experienced, just not very experienced. He knows he's going to slam his heavy balls against your ass until he cums, but what about you? He doesn't know what to do here.

– You'd have to teach him a thing or two, since he's never really been interested in making a woman come, but now you're HIS woman. He NEEDS you to scream his name as he makes you cum.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

– A classic, missionary. He loves seeing your face as he cums. It simply makes him want to go deeper into you.

> “Fuckk, you look so beautiful rolling your eyes, baby...” He murmurs above you, smiling before burying his face in the crook of your neck as he moans and grunts, sinking deeper into you.

– God, he loves fucking you in front of a mirror. He wants you to sit on him, he will hold your thighs from behind and lift you up, watching his dick move in and out of your tight pussy. You lean back into his chest as he lifts you up so easily, kissing your neck from behind as he tells you to keep watching his cock sink into you. Damn, Simon would easily come in that position.

> "Oh fuckkk- yeah, watch your greedy pussy swallow my cock... keep your eyes open, baby." He murmurs, positioning himself behind you, not letting you lean back.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

– He's not too serious. If something funny happens, or you start to smile at something silly that happened there, he will smile back.

> After hearing the funny sound your pussy made as he sank into you, you laughed softly, earning a smile from him before he pulled out his dick and slammed it back inside you, drawing a loud moan from your throat. "I think this sound is better, my love"

– But still, he's not making jokes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

– He has a happy trail. It's trimmed, but still visible because he knows when you like it.

– Generally, always well trimmed. And yes, the rugs match the curtains.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

– As I said before, he never worried about making a woman come, not before he met you.

– Simply, when you came the first time while he continued fucking you, he took it to another level.

– He considers it too intimate. The idea that you, his lover, who he loves so much, is there feeling the same pleasure as him is overwhelming his little heart :((

– He also wouldn’t have sex with you so quickly at the beginning of the relationship. It would take a few months for him to feel like he can trust you, to know that you won't touch him just for fun, but because you love him too.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

– He has masturbated countless times on missions, always moaning and whimpering your name, missing you, your touch.

– If you ask, he will love to masturbate in front of you. He likes to see your bright eyes when he moans your name, fist shaking, knowing how wet you are.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

– Domination. He loves to dominate you there, being your Top while watching your beautifully crying face as he fucks you so good, knowing he is going to ruin you.

– He’s a Switch too by the way. He loves being on top of you, dominating you, but he also loves being your good boy, rocking his hips up while you tease his dick with your cute hand :((

– Praise/worship. He just loves praising you. Making you feel special while honestly treating you like a slut for nothing more than fucking you hard. But, it can also be gentle. This man is just very smart at knowing what you prefer, whether you want him to be rough or passionate.

– Dacryphilia. Sorry, but he likes it. Not in the sense that you are forced, or that he is excited to see you cry over sad things. He just likes the idea that you're crying for something good. Whether it was because he fucked you so well, or because of a gift he gave you and you were very moved :((

– Call you mommy. It happened once, he said it so quietly that you almost didn't hear it. He feels so good with you, it's almost the comfort of a mother for him :((

> "Hell— yes mommy, take my dick, um? Let me make you feel good on my dick, let me fuck you so hard..."

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

– He's a homebody - probably his room, or in the living room? Or in the bathroom? Or better yet, anywhere at home? He is in.

– Also, if you go out to some very isolated place - some beach where you are far enough away from people - he will be fucking you there.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

– So he needs your touch. The sight of you could motivate him a lot. Just the sight of your ass in those tight pants could make him want to stroke his dick right now, in front of everyone :(

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

– Any type of Kink involving CNC/abuse/rape. He can't, just the mention of it makes his stomach turn.

– Also, foodplay. He's disgusted by it, he just isn't.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

– He's so good with his fingers. God. Just imagine him with the mask halfway down his face, just his mouth uncovered as he gives you the best oral you could ever have. This man will make you roll your eyes so much that you almost think they wouldn't come back again.

– Or him giving you kisses, from your waist to your clitoris, licking and sucking so greedily, sticking his fingers deep inside you while making the most beautiful sounds you could hear when he feels you squeezing his fingers and cumming on his tongue, your body writhing above him, making you so beautiful and tearful for any touch. ^^

– Or better yet, be his queen and sit on your throne (his face). God, he's going to suck you, lick you, his hands holding your hips in place as he sticks his tongue so deliciously into your pussy while his nose brushes and rubs your sensitive clit.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

– As I said, he is smart at knowing what you want. Do you want affection and being held while you hear whispers of how good you are for him, taking his big dick so well? He will do it. Do you want to be fucked like the good whore you are for him, making you drool and tremble while you cum for the 4th time on his dick? Oh yes he will love doing this.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

– He's kind of a middle-of-the-road guy with this, mainly because it usually involves being in public. If it's really necessary, he's fine with making you roll your eyes in a random bathroom.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

– Nah, he doesn’t like risks. He prefers the comfort and secrecy of his home. But, as I said above, if necessary…

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

– He goes as many rounds as you want, but he himself wouldn't like much more than 2 or 3 rounds. They are long, however. He prefers to make you cum before sinking himself inside your tight pussy :((

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

– He may have one or two toys, but all of them to use on you. Maybe one day you're off work and everyone in the barracks will go out drinking. Unfortunately for you, Simon was a little irritated, and you suffered with the vibrator in your pussy, constantly increasing the speed.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

– He’s not very provocative, really. He may caress you or whisper something in your ear innocently, but he doesn't do it to tease you, he just really enjoys touching you and praising you in the comfort of your home.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

– He will grunt, moan, whisper praises to you, but it's all against your skin. He moans lowly, but it's still moans that make you so wet-

> "Oh God- fuck, you- so tight... keep being a good girl, hm? take my cock..."

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

– Once you were in a kiss so hot that you didn't even realize where you were going. When he went to release you onto the bed, he ended up placing you too far on the edge, which made you almost fall to the floor. You laughed and he fucking bred you <3

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

– Simon has the vibe of a dick that’s not too big but really thick!

– With 6.5 in size and 7 in width, God, it satisfies you a lot.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

– It's not as tall as you might expect it to be. He will want to fuck you all the time, yes, if you take the initiative. Otherwise, only when he really needs you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

– He doesn't sleep so quickly, preferring to stay on guard, watching you sleep. Or else the two of you would stay talking until he finally got sleepy, sleeping cuddled together, with his face buried in your breasts <3

[delta-06]

Small Soap blurb. @cultnix

You were at the edge of the boxing ring inside the now empty gim. It was quiet, you liked it as you didn't have to listen to all that unnecessary and lively chatter, your ears could finally rest. You were wearing only shorts given the fact that it was really hot and the fans couldn't keep up with the warm ambient.

You looked down and saw your covered hands before getting up and beginning to punch the air in some repetitive schemes. Your mind was empty as it was taken back to Las Almas, you visualized Shadow 0-1 in front of you Ghost, Soap and Alejandro and then nothing. You punched the air again, this time with more aggression as you wanted to best the shit out of the commander. You saw Soap get hit with bullets before falling down the hill's crest into the darkness of the trees.

"Fucking hell" you yelled as you punched a direct hit that made you loose balance and fall head first into the hard black cover. You stayed there, not moving, facing the wall.

You were in the filthy cell with Alejandro who was cursing everything and everyone in spanish, while he was shouting angrily at the camera, you were sitting down looking at your blood stained hands with only two thoughts: was Johnny ok? Was Ghost going to save him? You didn't know.

Well now it was unnecessary as you were shaken awake by that stupid gaelic accent he had

"Lad? You good there? Broken?" he tilted his head to the side in a mocking tone as he was taking in the sight of a miserable *your rank* in front of him. You eyed him and then sat.

"Negative" "Good, what's wrong?" "Nothing" the silence fell again as you eyed him, well, his arms and half exposed pecks. He always managed to set yourself off, you didn't know how but you didn't mind it for the most part. Why? Simply because you loved him enough to tollerate his constant yapping.

"That shit's revealing John-" you pointed out "ouch, going for names love?" he hopped on the ring as he patted your shoulder "come on, I wanna fight-! Need to blow off some steam"

You got up and faced him directly in his eyes "fine" you punched his left side and he did too, in less than a minute it looked like two lions were fighting with the mowhack one coming victorius.

To mock you he sat on your back with his legs parted at each side and leaned in to wisper in your ears "I won this time" he smuggly grinned. "Only because I was exausted" "excuses dude, only excuses" he smirked.

you two remained like that before you turned yourself around and saw the dawn lights peaking shily from the closed windows, they hit directly Johnny's right side of his face making his light blue eyes turn even paler and his scar more visible.

He was still on you looking at you with a questioning expression. You looked away and then propped yourself up on your elbows and reached a hand to him, he hesitaded and went down and leaned to your touch as he felt your hand between the wet strands of his mowhack.

"Thought I lost ya there...in Las Almas" you sounded hurt but relieved he was in front of you, breathing and living.

"Takes a lot more than that to kill me" he smiled softly as he went down to put his hand on either side of your head. He scratched your cheeks feeling the low stubble growing as well as some old healed cuts and bruises.

"I know" you kissed one of his hands "I don't know what I would've done...you know, without your constant yapping" he laughed as he kissed your cheek, earning a hug.

"Price offered us a night at a quiet bar, says he and Laswell have bad news for us" "Regarding who?" you sighed "I don't know, but ut doesn't look very well"

"Either way...we are going to make it out alive right?" "Of course!" you snickered at that watching his smiling expression before diving in into a very welcomed kiss.

(Requests open, I need ideas bleh ) Read me

[mirouie]

two sides of a coin (2)

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem reader. | wc: 0.6k

↳ warnings: unedited, sorry if it doesn’t make sense T—T

↳ tags: hurt/comfort, the comfort part lol, fluff, soft!simon, kind of ooc!simon?, he’s a lil desperate

↳ a/n: here’s the part 2! i have mixed feelings about this :’))

↳ part one… here!

—

it’s relief you first see that washes over simon’s eyes; relief, and something else, you’re not quite sure. apprehension, was it? you see it in the way his eyes soften the slightest, the usual sharp upturn of the corners release and droop down into that gaze he always gives you, and only you—as if you created every beautiful thing there is to exist. in retrospect, he was right. you see the apprehension in the way his brows crease, irises darting back and forth as if he’s now realizing that he’s standing on your doorstep with ghost still in his clutches. battered, bloodied, brooding—all the things he’s promised to never let you get a glimpse of.

a dull thud sounds as everything in his hands drops to the ground, shaky steps toward you muffled by the carpet beneath his feet. on any other day, you would’ve scolded him for it, told him to leave his muddy boots by the doorway. you hated having dirt on the floors, but none of that mattered now.

you meet him halfway, slow, cautious strides that are silent compared to his dull ones. the same gaze trains on you, you don’t dare tear your eyes away from him either. even when you have to crane your neck and shivers run down your spine as you stare at the skull that looms over you, you don’t look away. not when your lover’s warm, honeyed brown eyes are filled with a desperation that claws at your soul.

“simon…” a hand snakes to his clothed cheek, you can hear the sharp breath he takes as he all but melts into your palm. you can tell he’s tired, burdened. wanting to rest and be at ease with nothing but you in his arms and mind, but something is stopping him. he’s still tied back to the battlefield, to the deaths, to the suffering. he’s tried to let go of it, to leave it behind the door like he always did, but he can’t, not this time. it’s you who has to sever that string that ties him back.

“simon…”

“come back to me, simon.”

you’re swept off your feet before you can take another breath, soft gasps falling past your lips as he wraps himself around you, pushing you back against the wall. your legs coil around his waist, arms around his neck as he tugs off his mask and shoves his face into your chest. his breaths are sharp, heaving as if it pains him to breathe, and you feel your heart clench at the sound of his small whimpers. he’s tired. he’s had enough. you bury your nose into his tousled hair, taking in his scent that you missed dearly, whispering sweet nothings with fervor. with the way his body shakes, his grip falters, you’re all but determined to bring him back to you, bring him back to his sweet girl.

“it’s okay, simon, i’m here. it’s okay, sweetheart…” you don’t know how long you stay there, held taut in his arms as you utter the same words over and over again. you don’t know how long till his chest stops heaving and his heartbeat slows, till his cheeks are dry from the stray tears that slipped out. you do know, however, that when he places you back down on your feet with utter care and pulls away from you, the softest of smiles etched on his lips, ghost is long gone and only simon remains.

your simon.

he plants a kiss on your head, you return with a gentle one on his cheek. you’re smiling now. “welcome home, simon. i missed you.”

—

↳ taglist: @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @girlvsghost @salsa-reads-stuff @bloodyquillink-blog @kirasenju @cyphah @keiva1000 @kaelaiscool

© mirouie ; do not copy, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[scoobstarr]

𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗛𝗖𝗦

— simon “ghost” riley x black! fem! reader.

SYNOPSIS — small headcanons of what it’s like when ghost comes home to you after your very long months away from one another. face time calls aren’t getting anything done, so now you have a hulking sex crazed soldier wanting you.

WARNINGS — interracial relationship! the reader has bipoc features! (maybe) ooc ghost, a bit of ghostsoap (platonic), hints of sex toward the end. kinda crackfic ig??

WORD COUNT — 1.173k

—★. . . SIMON loves him some you. that’s all there is to it. after a long while of being on base and completing missions for around six to eight months, he is more than ready to come to you. as soon as he walks through the door, you would give him time to set his things down.

— there is no telling what he’s seen while being gone so you do give him some space until he’s comfortable enough to bring you into a small hug with his forehead pressed against yours.

— he’d keep his mask on for a bit and then take it off once he feel he’s settled. your way of comforting him is by cooking him a big meal. he’s a sucker for your cooking but you’ll never hear him say it. he’ll unknowingly show it sometimes though. cooking was also your love language, and he did have a hard time with his feelings so you like to express yours through cooking instead of overwhelming him with questions.

— simon would give you small signals instead of telling you that he wants you to be closer to him. like he may stare at you and wait until you ask or just gently nudge his leg or head against yours. he has a habit of tapping his finger against your thigh or caressing your knee.

— he doesn’t hate when you call him your soft pretty boy. may make him a bit uncomfortable because he’s never really been called pretty before, but he doesn’t say anything really. whenever you get the chance you will always tell him that he’s handsome or as you’d say sometimes, “you’re so damn fine simon.”

— you would do so while stroking his face with your thumb, “you’re really such a soft beautiful man”, to which he’d grunt out. “m’ not soft. i’m a fucking killer.”, simon would try to take on his usual lieutenant voice but with the way you stare at him it’s kinda hard to do so.

— it’s been military food and mre’s the entire times he’s been gone and he hated it to his core. he started to loathe only using salt and pepper to give his food a bit of seasoning. there were some days where he didn’t eat at all and lived off water but he knew if you figured out you would probably kick his ass.

— nonetheless you cook your man a hearty dinner that could probably feed then entire 141st task force. simon is a big man so he would probably go back for seconds or thirds while he talks about the scottish soldier he “hates”.

— “you said he’s scottish right baby?” — “mm.”, simon would talk about soap a lot and you started to see that he may have taken a liking to the scottish man. what was even funnier about the whole interaction is when he attempted the accent.

— “ he’s a good man. likes my army humor.”, he mutters while side eyeing you. you didn’t think they were funny. like at all. you always told him he wasn’t good at telling jokes and you meant it. but he didn’t care of course, he’d tell them to tease you and for his own pleasure.

— not that it matters but, he would let you clean his finger nails. simon wasn’t a dirty man (non sexual wise) but there were days where he wasn’t able to shower at all. especially when it came to missions. he was use to living with his own stink for a long period of time. and you hated it. but you know it came with the job.

— anyways, when he’s home from base he would give you his hands and let you clean the dirt from his nails. it was a pet peeve of yours, and you hated dirty nails. it took a while for him to trust you but he was kind of use to things like this when it came to you.

— you even washed his gloves and masks before. at first he was reluctant, with his mindset he only thought, “why in fucking hell do my nails need to be cleaned? i carry a gun for god sakes”, but you instantly hit him back with, “you’re not sticking them dirty ass fingers in my pussy simon.”, and he goes quiet immediately.

— imagine soap accidentally peeping ghosts hands one day, when he’s without his gloves. he was slightly intrigued and wanted to know why his l.t kept his nails so good looking. if only he knew though.

— likes it when you kiss his scars and run your fingers through his hair especially when your nails are done, reassure him too. you know he doesn’t do much talking unless necessary but your gestures and actions of comfort are enough to calm him. he likes to take in your scent when you’re both close.

— showering together would be the best part of this all. this is usually where the sex starts to roll in. he hasn’t been able to touch you in months. now that you were here in front of him all naked and wet with his 6’4 figure towering over you — he was gonna lay it all on you here and now. aaand maybe in the bedroom.

— he’d try to be slick about it first. wrapping his arms around you slow and kissing your neck while you let the water cover your bodies. and you’d press right against him with a grin because you knew exactly how this man moved.

— “can’t keep your hands to yourself for long hm?” — “damn right sweetheart.”, and you would never turn him down because you’d been missing him too. simon wasn’t one for making love most of the time. I feel like he’d only do it if he was put in a life or death situation on a mission, but ghost isn’t one to get scared about those things.

— anyways simon would start off slow and sensual at first, dick pressed firmly against your backside as his hands make purchase on your throat and his lips attaching themselves to whatever part of your skin they could. his hard body molded right against yours.

— his first night back would be filled with him making you cum more than one time, loves giving head more than receiving. he’ll lap at your puffy pussy until his mouth and jaw are covered in your release. begging wouldn’t stop this man at all, when he’s hungry he’s gonna eat.

— simon would breed your pussy to the point where your folds would be coated in both of your juices and a white ring would form around his cock every time he pushed into you. it would be kinda crazy to ask if he was trying to give you a baby with the way he was fucking you.

— he would take you nice and deep in missionary first, thick brown legs on his broad shoulders while his hips moved at a punishing pace, your pretty tits bouncing with every thrust he delivered. you would be pretty loud, simon would fuck all the shit he’s built up right into your creamy cunt until you’re shaking and reduced to nothing but mumbling whimpers.

— doggy style would be his favorite. he feels like he can take you deeper from that position, and you would agree. months away from you and it was like welcoming home a dog in heat. you would both agree that sex is better when he’s been away for a long time. sex is always good with simon regardless of that fact though.

— back arched to perfection and ass high in the air just for him, nails digging into the pillow as he took you from behind like an animal. his firm hands on your waist as his pelvis collided with your ass—and the recoil is what would turn him on the most. simon is an ass man, no doubt.

— “fuck. thats right, take this cock.” - “good girl.” , simon will let out subtle praises, groans, and the deepest whimpers in your ears. very hot coming from him. and you love it. you will fully indulge in his kinks because you loved pleasuring him more.

— you also love hearing simon talk you through sex. brought you to an orgasm faster than you could think, maybe it was his heavy accented voice or the way he had that he would speak really low and deep to you while knocking the mario coins out of your pussy.

— when he asks “who’s pussy is this?” or “you’re all fucked out love”, it really takes a toll on you. anything this man does with buried inside your sex can make you cum. he had that affect on you and he knew it.

𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗢𝗕𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗥©

[amourlyns]

⠀ 「 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 」

⠀ ━━ 🌷 💕

✦ 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⨟⠀ König was obviously still your best, not them.

✦ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 ⨟⠀König ex!KorTac!gn reader
✦ 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 ⨟⠀ Just a short little drabble. Inspired Giveon’s 〞 Still your best 〞 lmk if I should finish it! ➜ masterlist

✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ⨟⠀ None

⠀ ★ ⠀ | IT’S ALMOST TOO DISRESPECTFUL… they’re a downgrade you knew it. They’re supposed to take his place in your heart? He would always be your best.

Like… Are you serious? Are you kidding? Whats the deal? König’s jaw would shift and grind, molars cause a familiar sensation in his mouth. Discomfort.

If he was being honest, seeing this whole thing made him uncomfortable. He knew you best, inside and out. It was König who knew your body best, not them.

Why did a couple rounds of drinks piss him off so much? You guys broke up three weeks ago— he should be over it, right? Wrong.

He couldn’t, and he shouldn’t. König is too trained on the way your lips cup the edge of your whisky glass, sipping the amber liquid with a tentative sip.

It feels like you’re almost mocking him, with the way your throat bobs and the way you lick your lips. The worse part about it was the fact that you weren’t even looking at him, or paying him any mind. Now on the other hand, you could feel everything.

You could feel the way his gaze burns thorough your skull, it felt like he was staring into your soul.

See, the funny thing about this was the fact that he couldn’t. You knew he wouldn’t to say anything to you with all these people around, all these eyes. Maybe he would whisk you away later on.

[lights-on-the-ridge]

why is it that on apple products my art is so vibrant and pinkish but on my samsung its damn near black and white😭

[fawnchives]

who is this and why is it literally simon riley.

[paradlselost]

tumblrs not letting me write on the app so i have to go on the web help 💀

Anyways i was going to say I’m writing a little thing about my COD oc and it’s literally just cannibalism as a metaphor for love?? I’m cooking ig

more Earving stuff to come btw 🙏🙏

[dimepdf]

𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋. + 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 '𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓' 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

masterlist. / taglist. / any request?

synopsis. since the moment that Ghost laid eyes on you, he has sworn to be smitten. too bad you are Soap's girl.

pairing. simon “ghost” riley x reader , johnny “soap” mactavish x reader

genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, pwp, porn with plot, smut, hard pinning, semi public sex, sub!ghost, power kink, degradation kink, mommy issues, voice kink, humiliation, i know nothing about COD just here for my masked meow meow | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

Simon was no saint: sure, he credited himself for being a morally "sometimes" correct person with pretty decent values. 

That alone should have been enough to build a platform on top of the truly irrational thoughts that would swirl in his thick skull and had only gotten worse since the day he joined the forces. 

He had blamed his rough upbringing for a lot of things since the day he was born, but being as touched deprived as he was now was definitely one of the things he could check at the top of his list as the cause of his crippling mommy issues, and boy was your appearance only adding fuel to the fire.

Being deployed was something he had just gotten used to, the feeling of never really settling down and always being on guard, and being used to having eyes at the back of his head.

But there was one thing Simon could never quite figure out, something that seemed to come naturally to his charming pal Johnny, and that was women.

When Soap had first hinted to Ghost about him being in a two-year relationship so suddenly out of the blue a few months before you even managed to show your face. It was like playing a perplexing game of Where's Waldo to piece together the mystery woman about whom his partner was making risque jokes in their conversations.

At first, Simon just wanted to throw in the towel and was entirely convinced that you were just a figment of the soldier's imagination, not that he would blame him.

Simon understood that the battlefield is a pretty lonely place and wouldn't judge his friend for losing a couple of marbles along the way, but if Johnny was losing some of his rockers, he wouldn’t prefer the delusion to continue on for too long.

Before he could step in and pull the plug, your official appearance had almost knocked the wind from his chest like a brick straight to the heart. 

Throughout the period that you were just a pieced-together image from the shitty descriptive words Johnny had used to describe you, Simon almost stumbled the moment he had laid eyes on you. 

Perhaps it was because he hadn't had the opportunity to fully look at a woman in the way he was able to look at you, but words couldn't describe how your features had him struggling to tear his gaze away.

Luckily, his broadening and usually quiet demeanor were enough to cover up his pure awkwardness during your first introduction. 

Struggling to form a normal question or even his name, Johnny introduces him with a dismissive pat on the shoulder before moving on and rounding up the rest of the team.

Since this, your appearance has been like a plague to him, like an infection burning under his skin, blurring the line between what is wrong and what is right.

If anything, you seemed to want to spread the infection even further from the way you would always try to joke with him, how you were always the only one to get handsy with him when talking, how you would always stand up for him when Soap would do his usual teasing, how your voice would always turn soft when you spoke to him, and despite all of that, you had still been in a loving relationship with Johnny, and yet Simon just couldn't shake you from his head.

You had him so smitten, like a stray puppy just looking for some sort of attention, and your mere existence was the bone of his dreams (literally and figuratively). 

You had him staying up late at night with his makeshift mattress and a bundle of blankets to form the most comfortable cot he could build out in the middle of some country he had forgotten the name of.

Night had fallen, and the team decided it would be best to set up camp not far from the target's resting place in a nearby cleared-out lot. 

Most people would have been thrilled to get a few extra hours of sleep to unwind after all the violence, but for Simon, those quiet moments were the fucking worst, and his erection, straining against his pants, begging for any ounce of attention as it pulsed against his briefs, only proved his point later on. 

As everyone parted ways, not too far but not too close, Simon thought that he had spread out just enough away from everyone, alone in an empty room, to spread out and attempt to find his comfort against the rough hardwood flooring, but the moment he had heard the shuffle next door, his body was as still as a board.

Apparently, Simon wasn’t the only one looking for some alone time for the night.

The noises coming from the other side of the room that you and Johnny had occupied left Simon feeling like he was standing right there next to you as you two went at it.

He could only guess that you were pressed against the wall and being lifted into some sort of position that had you whimpering out Johnny's name and moaning out how big he felt inside of you and whimpering about how good he felt.

Simon would remember how he sat against the wall, listening to every moan and plea of pleasure that came from your mouth. 

Simon knew that he was in dangerous territory the moment his fingers crept past the waistband of his pants and dipped into his underwear to relieve the growing problem tenting in his pants.

It was wrong to imagine fucking your best friend's fucking hot girlfriend, but in his defense, you just sounded so sweet, begging for dick. 

Simon was just convinced it was like you wanted him to hear those sweet little whines.

His hips bucked in at the brush of his cold fingers wrapping around his hilt. 

The sensation, paired with the sound of your hiccuping moans, sent a jolt of pleasure through his senses. 

All he could hear was you as his hand fell in the humiliating action of jerking himself off.

His breath caught in his throat as his head slouched against the wall with a small thump, his heart skipping a beat at the noise but quickly ignored it as your sounds didn't seem to stop, reminding him that you were probably too busy getting your brains fucked out to listen to every little sound. 

If anything, just the sheer realization sparked Simon to want to be louder—the thought of wanting to push that bar as far as he possibly could to the point where you would catch him in the act of pleasuring himself from the sound of your voice alone.

The thought of you punishing him for doing something so wrong—for touching himself without your permission—is terrifyingly arousing.

At the image, he let out a gasp, his mouth open, his eyes squeezed shut, and his hand quickened as he fisted his hands tighter at the scenarios of you controlling him, leaving him strung onto every command. 

As your pleas became less and less audible, the bliss grew stronger and stronger.

Simon wanted to get familiar with the sound, with the noise of your orgasm creeping just around the corner.

As he could only make do with his hand, he imagined the feeling of being inside of you, the warmth of your walls, and as he brought himself closer to his own edge, the thick ribbons of cum shot from him with a grunt that followed just after yours.

The post-nut clarity left him catching his breath, yanking his mess-covered hand out of the front of his pants, and staring at everything that had unfolded with a hard, annoyed grunt.

God how he wished that he could have you.

🔖 comment or check link below to be added...

tap here to be added to taglist.

[franabz]

★ Band 141 AU !fem user (part 2)

(part 1)

Ghost wasn't very sure why he was suddenly so drawn to the absolutely bonnie young woman on stage, but something about her was like a moth to a flame to him in ways he couldn't really understand.

Maybe it wad the way she seemed absolutely terrified, practically hitching with every step she took on stage in front of rows of (mostly drunken) bar patrons. You'd almost feel sorry for how she was practically shaking like a leaf as the stage manager handed off her own mic and her eyes nervously darted over the crowds with a tremble in her knees.

The lead vocalist, Vixen, didn't seem as amused as the rest though. She subtly took a step back and nudged you with her elbow, snapping you a "Don't fuck up" look that made you swallow thickly. One by one each member of the band got to their respective places, then Vixen's voice pitched into the mic through the speakers. "Thank you all for having us here tonight!" She grinned widely, obviously thinking highly of herself in the moment.

"How 'bout tae brunette? She looks like'a bonnie lass." Soap commented, resting his forearms over the wooden table as he nodded towards one of the other female band members, the bassist stage named Robin. "We're lookin' for a vocalist, not 'nother bassist." Price sighed, taking another drag of his cigar before tapping it against an ashtray to take a sip of his whiskey. Gaz and Ghost were mostly silent, simply observing the potential candidates. At least Gaz seemed alive in his thoughts, his brows raised slightly in curiosity as the music finally began. Ghost however, ever the stone-faced man, was completely unreadable, per usual.

An upbeat and funky rhythm sounded through the speakers as each band member performed their parts with practiced ease, everyone giving it their all. Vixen's captivating alto voice being the main focus. You did your best to stay on-par with the rest of the band, yet remained significantly quieter. Ghost kept his eyes trained on you with laser focus, seemingly keeping a mental note of every flat, shaky note you managed to spew out like he was some sort of critic. "She's good." Gaz uttered quietly while resting his chin in his palm, subtly head bobbing to the beat. "Ah dinnae ken... Ye can barely even hear 'er over the blonde." Soap gestured a hand towards Vixen, watching as she was blatantly trying to steal the spotlight over the other band members, her voice considerably louder than the instruments. Price simply watched with a critical eye. You could practically hear the gears moving in his head.

Little by little you finally started breaking from that timid shell you were curled in and your true colors began to shine, your captivating soprano vocals mixing with Vixen's alto tone rather nicely, though it was obvious she was still trying to overpower you. Nonetheless you delivered with such soulful grace that rang out in the ears of patrons even after the song ended. Almost like a siren drawing in unsuspecting victims.

Though Price didn't say anything, it was obvious his face said it all. "I have to talk to her."

"Soprano and baritone? Not a bad combo." Gaz chipped in. "Wot's what mean?" Ghost finally spoke up, gruffly scowling as he tapped his foot against the wooden flooring below.

"Bloody 'ell, pipe down." Price grunted, waving away his smoke as well as waving away the chatter of the boys.

The rest of the performance the boys were relatively quiet, each going through their own inner turmoil. Well, everyone but Soap. He couldn't care less who joined as long as they were a decent person. As the band finally finished and the final notes rang in the air, the band roared in applause and cheers, some drunken bar-goers even going as far as to throw catcalls. As soon as the band finished and Vixen began addressing the audience while the others began loading off stage— "Be right back." Price put out his cigar and took one last swig of his drink before weaving his way through crowds with a small occasional "S'cuse me" or "Pardon me" just to get a chance to talk with you.

Sure she was as timid as a butterfly, but nothing some good practice and encouragement couldn't fix.

As Price disappeared into the crowd, Soap stood up to head back towards the bar to order some more drinks, leaving just Ghost and Gaz.

"So, what'd ya think, Si?" He smirked, his eyes flickering back up to meet Ghost's own gaze. Ghost stayed silent for a moment, avoiding Gaz's gaze slightly. He actually did enjoy the performance, though he would never admit that out loud. "T'was fine." He replied quietly, tapping a blunt fingernail against his empty glass. "Fine? That's all you can say? The girl gotta voice of siren. Bloody captivating."

He leaned back in his booth, the slight sound of denim rubbing against leather could be heard over the distant bar chatter. "Only the first band n' Price already has his eyes on a bird." Ghost subtly eye-rolled and met Gaz's brown eyes for a second, before drifting his gaze away as his eyes roamed over the crowds again, trying to find the girl Price went to talk to.

Meanwhile with Price, he managed to stop you in your tracks with his usual straight to the point charm, one that made you cock a brow subtly.

"Hey- I jus' wanted to say you hav'a lovely singin' voice, mate. A true talent." Price smiled respectfully, tucking a hand into his jeans pocket as his gaze stayed trained over you. "Ah... Thank you, sir." You replied with a small sheepish chuckle, idly fiddling with a loose string on the hem of your jeans at the compliment. Price could notice your unease and chuckled gruffly, finding it a bit amusing how sheepish you were. "Don' worry, lass. I don't bite." He reassured, a small amused huff escaping his lips. "Look, I won't sugarcoat this. I thin ya 'ave true potential, and I was wondering if you'd be interested in a little meeting, eh?" He pulled a small business card from his pocket and held it out for you between his rough fingers.

You glanced down at the card and could feel your face warming at the offer. "A business offer? Hell- I could barely hold a steady note..." You thought to yourself, before quickly snapping out of your stray thoughts and swallowed thickly, hesitantly reaching for the card. "We're currently lookin' for a secondary singer 'nd thought you'd fit in nicely. All of my details're on the card." Price added, handing the card off to you before folding his arms over his chest, watching your reaction.

You accepted the card in shaky hands, your eyes roaming over the "141" label in jagged fonts. "Right... I'll think about it." You muttered, before placing the card into your own pocket and looking back up at the man, exhaling deeply to release some nerves. "Thank you." You added quietly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

"F'course, lass. Hey, you have a true talent. We could use s'meone like you on our side." Price hummed, satisfaction crossing over his face at your acceptance.

You both respectfully bid farewells and went your separate ways, Price returning to the secluded booths and you being left to stand against the wall with your own thoughts. You couldn't lie, the offer was something that definitely caught your attention, but then again you were still technically in a band. Would they even notice if you left? You were barely even noticeable on stage anyways... Maybe if you—

"Y/N!" A familiar voice snapped you out of your inner turmoil, that of Vixen; better known as Crystal. "Where were you? We're packing up for the night." She sneered, placing her hands on her hips as she looked at you, almost silently judging you. "You're lucky you didn't completely blow it tonight. Everyone was too focused on me to care, anyways." Her comments definitely tugged at your gut, but you decided not to say anything about it.

"Right, sorry." You sighed, silently resenting Crystal for her constant jabs, though you couldn't say you didn't expect it. "Damn right you are. Now hurry up, Jayce is paying our tab." She stuck her nose up subtly, before turning on her heel to walk away. Your expression stiffened as she walked away, a small exhausted exhale leaving your lips.

You took one last look around the bar, your eyes falling over the booths where 141 was currently sitting, laughing it up and sharing drinks and smokes while other bands were loading on stage, before your eyes returned to the front of the bar where Crystal and the others were waiting. You patted the pocket that Price's business card was in and let out a controlled inhale, before slowly weaving through the crowds to get to them.

Though the thought of the offer hadn't left your mind yet.