๐ด๐๐๐๐๐ ๐บ๐๐๐๐
[ xx | ๐ผ'๐ท" | Cis Female | Bisexual | ...โค๏ธ... ]
โขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโข
๐พ๐๐๐๐
โStolaโ
โขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโข
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โขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโข
๐น๐๐๐๐
แดสแดษดแดแดษด๊ฑโ She/Her
สแดษชสแด
โ ๐๐ก๐๐๐๐ (despite the waifish air she likes to put on)
๊ฐแดแดแดสแด แดสแดษด๊ฑโ โ๐๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฎ๐ข๐จ๐ช๐ค ๐ข๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ค๐ข๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐บโ
แดสษชแดขแดแด
ษขษช๊ฐแดโ A dagger forged by her father (she keeps it strapped to her thigh)
The all-consuming rage ๐ด๐๐๐๐๐ felt being faced with ๐บ๐๐๐๐' dying body (after losing ๐ฑ๐๐๐ & being mocked by ๐ฌ๐๐๐) cause her to violently kill him before being brought back to her senses...she doesn't regret doing it, only the fact she couldn't do the same to ๐ฌ๐๐๐ ๐ช
Most of her time not spent studying or training is with ๐ณ๐๐๐ & the other horses โก๐ด
๐ด๐๐๐๐๐ is not a fan of childrenโeven when she was one herselfโthey're too sticky & loud (she can only tolerate long interactions with ones she's already familiar with, but she's NEVER cruel to kids...just physically distant) ๐
After the traumatic loss of ๐ฑ๐๐๐ & ๐ฝ๐๐๐, she's become very protective of ๐ฑ๐๐๐๐, always on guard when they're around strangers๐ (despite ๐ต๐๐๐๐'๐ constant presence at her side)
๐ด๐๐๐๐๐ has always been sensitive to loud noises
...
๐ด๐๐๐๐๐ means โ๐๐๐๐๐โ (French)
โขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโข
๐ผ๐น: @chains-of-destiny
โขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโขโโข
Picrew used:
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The real barbie is Y/n.
Y/nโs a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.
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TikTokers are such pussies when it comes to ships. โB-but theyโre not canon ๐ฅบ๐ฅบ๐ฅบ๐ญ๐ญ๐๐โ honey back in my day we shipped characters from entirely different medias uphill both ways in the snow
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eat me whole
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Can't stop thinking about Captain John Price, your good friend's boyfriend, listening to you talk about how you are considering getting a guard dog, and he whole-heartedly agrees with you. John likes you, you're a fantastic friend to his dove and you're sweet, and sweet girls do need protection. So he nods along and tells you he'll look into getting you one, a big one to protect you.
Two weeks later, you're invited to your friend's house, her telling you days before that John might have gotten you a dog, so to prepare! She wasn't sure, he just hinted at it on the phone.
Tell me why, after knocking at your bestie's door, she opens kinda pale and awkward, maybe even a little bit annoyed, inviting you in. Instead of a proper, legit, literal dog, John introduces you to Simon Riley, who stands there awkwardly but tall and intimidating while your friend apologizes, calling her boyfriend an idiot. But John isn't an idiot. For a while now, he thought you'd be perfect for his Lt., this just a funny way to introduce you both. And the only thing that took Simon to agree (after a sharp yet bored no when firstly asked) was to send him a picture of you at a bar, smiling.
Extra:
"So... you come with a leash?" You joke with the tall man, whose eyes wrinkle in amusement. He has been more on the silent side although very atentive, his intense brown eyes on you all evening. Now that you were both alone at the balcony, abandoned by the two love-birds, you tried to ease the tension.
"I don't do leashes but I can pull a spiky collar." He smiles as you giggle. Hell, he felt relief that you did. Even happiness...
"Yeah, it would fit you."
"Yeah?" His voice was low and buttery. "What about a tag with your name on it?" He leans down a little, just enough in your personal bubble, and your stomach flipped. You felt your cheeks warm.
"Can it be heart shaped?" You stare prettily at him and all he can do is to snort to ease the tension.
"However you want it." His reply was quick, eager.
"Deal. But first take me on a proper date."
"Perfect." He smirks.
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ok ok how about mute?ghost who you aren't sure if he's actually mute or if he just chooses not to say anything. you hear a different answer from everyone you ask. (18+)
ever since mexico, wouldn't say a fucking word.
nah, mate, he's been zipped shut since he enlisted.
heard it was a mad accident.
what you mean? heard him telling off privates not even a year ago!
well, since you're a certified yapper, and ghost can't (won't) tell you to shut up, you make him your living diary. whenever you see him around, you sit next to him, stop by his office, hop up onto his desk and talk to him. you tell him about your day, about the recruits that bother you the most, about the meals in the mess hall being worse on saturdays than on mondays (fuck, you'd think the weekend would put some pep in their step, no?).
but gosh, when ghost finally had you seated in his lap with your pants around one ankle, you really weren't expecting to hear him.
pussy-drunk, tongue out, hands gripping your ass as he listens to the wet smack of your thighs against his, and that's all it takes for him to let out the filthiest groan you've ever heard, enough to make you spiral, see red-hot stars, to shake and cry until you're cumming and babbling and even more incoherent.
when they talk about ghost, you still keep your mouth shut. you're still not sure if he talks, fuck if i know, is what you say.
but if you suck his cock just right, you're certain he's singing.
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"Have you seen that bigboy with a skullface??"
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I love the head cannon that Ghost likes to stare a lot. Not at anything in particular, just staring.
Then he realizes that he really likes staring at you. He's fucking you in missionary, basically rocking both of your bodies and the bed with each deep and heavy thrust, putting his body weight into it. He's got his large hands planted beside your head, maybe your legs clenching on and off his hips as he thrusts.
Between your moaning and his fat dick making your pussy drool, you don't notice him staring into your face, huffing and groaning every now and then but otherwise quiet.
Between your moaning and crying about how good he feels, grasping onto his thick wrists for support as he pounds, you finally acknowledge him staring into your eyes.
"S... Simon?" You say breathlessly, being a little confused.
He stares a little longer before realizing what he's doing and shakes out of it, leaning down so your faces are right against each other, but not quite touching, slowing his thrusts down into a deeper, more loving pace, "You're fuckin' beautiful..." He whispers.
He captures your lips before you respond, not that you could with the way he's fucking and loving you.
His thrusts get sloppier, still deep and hard, his tongue intertwining with yours messily. You couldn't believe how much you turned him on by just being looked at.
Nor could he, yet here he was, groaning as one thick hand wrapped around the back of your neck, kissing you harder as he cums ropes inside of you.
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virgin!reader getting ready to make your usual escape to living room when you hear Simonโs heavy grunt from the other side of the wall
only to pause when you donโt hear a responding feminine moan
Just Simonโs heavy breathing, almost like a growl and you feel heat pool in your stomach, thighs clenching when you hear a guttural โOh fuck-โ
The image of Simon, spread out on his bed, boxers around his thighs and one rough hand stroking his aching cock has a breathy whine slipping past your lips, which you quickly try to cover up by slapping a hand over your mouth
Heโs vocal, something you never would have guessed. Groans and punched out little grunts float between the walls, and with each new noise you clench down around nothing, pillow pressed between your thighs as you rock your hips, trying to smother your little whines with your hand
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simon riley who becomes even more smitten with his wife whenever she's angry at him. he doesn't know why, but seeing her scold him for something as simple as forgetting to put the toilet seat down or forgetting to grab a tub of ice cream just makes him grin. it makes him want to gently remind her who's in charge (at least in the bedroom; he knows how much power she has over him. he's weak to her).
all he has to do is cup her face and coo, "i'm sorry lovie, i'll do better." and suddenly she's not very mad anymore. if that doesn't work, he just pushes her against the nearest surface and eats her out until she's a babbling mess (he tried doing that in public one time; she waited until they got in the car to complain about that too).
her attitude rarely gets to him though. if anything, it just turns him on. although if she gets too mouthy, he'll just let her yap without saying anything, just staring down at her. that's when she knows she's in actual trouble.
after she mellows out and simon finishes having his fill of her, she'll get very shy and grumble at him for that dirty trick she falls for every time. "did i not do enough of a good job love? need another round?" she shuts up after that, turning her heated face away from simon's smug grin, the bastard.
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cod ร fem!reader โ๐โหโน แกฃ๐ญฉ
The familiar sound of keys in the door alerted you to your husbandโs return.
โMy love?โ he called, looking for you, boots making heavy footsteps as he made his way towards you and your child. His eyes soften once they land on you and your baby girl.
โHowโs my princess?โ he drawls, voice deep with exhaustion from work.
You look down at the child sitting in your lap, occupied with trying to fit a chubby foot into her mouth. A steady finger reaches underneath your chin, lifting it to meet his warm, intense gaze.
โIโm talking about this one.โ
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Simon Riley who has got it BAD for seeing you wearing his dog tags.
Something utterly primal within him awakens whenever he sees his tags dangle from around your neck, dipping in between the valley of your breasts. You like wearing his tags? Heโs fucking done for.
Absolutely fuckin adores when you ask to wear them. Wonโt have to ask him twice. Hell, he wont even let you ask. Heโll just throw the chain around your neck the second heโs home from deployment.
No matter how innocent you try to play it, anytime he sees you wearing them his cock hardens in his pants almost painfully.
Will almost beg you to ride him in bed, aching for the sight of you on top of him- aching to see his tags slapping off of your bouncing breasts.
Loves to yank the chain, either pulling you in for a deep searing kiss as he rams himself up into you, or railing you from behind as his tags slowly imprint their mark onto your neck.
Will always stare at you in awe, your breasts covered in his cum with his dog tags falling lazily across your chest. Heโs got more mental images of that particular sight in his brain than Simon will ever care to admit.
He hardly ever gets himself off, but when he does, you better believe itโs to the picture of you lying naked in bed with his tags on you. Itโs his absolute favorite fucking picture.
Needless to say all rational thoughts go out the window the second his tags slip over your head. Just wear the damn tags for himโฆ okay?
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couch potato.
early access + nsfw on patreon
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Others can't understand the connection
Drew this long time ago, trying to depict the subtle atmosphere between you and Konig
happy qixi festival
Music
TEMPOREX - Around You
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trying to ride simon but failing miserably every time. he'll never request it from you, no, but what man doesn't love to have his beautiful girl bouncing on his veiny cock, your breasts at perfect level to be squeezed and nipples sucked? to feel himself impaling your pussy, abusing your cervix but you're too fucking desperate to care about the dull ache in your stomach.
you're working yourself so hard, puffy clit rubbing against his pelvis with each bounce, his blond pubes leaving teasing kisses that threaten to drag you over the edge. but simon is greedy, he needs more of you, faster and harder. he needs to control you.
you know as soon as his legs spread apart on the bed, it's over for you, control is immediately gone. he plants his feet down on the mattress, his hips propping you up, pushing his leaking cock even further than you felt was possible, his full balls pressed against your plushy ass.
his strong arms wrap around you, pulling your upper half down onto him so your chests are pressed together, locking you into place as he fucks you. your mind is foggy, the sense leaving your brain at the intense pleasure he gives you, tight walls strangling his throbbing dick, a silent plea for him to destroy your insides. cream dribbles out of your pussy, trailing down his balls to the sheets, leaving a damp stain in its wake.
hot tears are pouring out of your eyes, pure bliss enveloping you as he uses you as his cum dump. the only words you can blabber out are "fuck simon!" and even then your tongue struggles to work properly, senses overloaded as your orgasm washes over you, the pressure in your head so intense black dots line your vision.
you can't hear or think, only feeling the vibration of simon's chest against yours with his low groans, probably praising how good you feel and that he's right there but you're too fucked out to understand. you can only feel the sweat dripping down his chest, his skin sticking to yours as he fucks you into oblivion.
his thighs stutter as he finishes, filling you as deep as he can go with ropes of hot, thick white cum. it fills you to the brim, dripping out of your pussy and down your inner thighs, only adding to the soiled sheets beneath you. slowing his thrusts to a stop, he pushes you up by the shoulders, taking a good look at your flushed face. drool is pooled in the corner of your mouth, red cheeks stained with tears, looking as wrecked and beautiful as ever.
his dark brown eyes dance along your body, as if taking a mental video of your chest rising and falling rapidly, attempting to catch your breath while looking at him with that glossy look in your eye.
so yeah, you may fail to ride him to orgasm every time, but fuck is it worth it.
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what if ghost and you were on the same team. and you know, you guys acted like normal teammates. except that one time soap caught you and ghost leaning into each other after one particularly hard mission. gaz saw you kissing ghost on the cheek one morning when you think no one saw you both. price noticed how you both always managed to find each other in a room full of men.
and then one time when the team were hanging out at a bar. you all were pissed. soap asked if you guys were shagging each other and you answered with,
"oh, we're actually married!" you'd said with a bright smile and flushed cheeks.
and the way the men instantly sobered up after that and stared at you, mouths hanging open. soap managed to spit beer on gaz's face. price's cigar hung loosely from his open mouth. you bursted out laughing at the ridiculous sight.
and simon? well, simon thought it was about bloody time they tell the team. (he was getting tired of soap constantly making up conspiracy theories about you and him.)
โ masterlist.
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