#Cod Ghost

[milomossy]

New Military Express headliner - Task Force 141

(ref ⬇️)

[konigsblog]

beach days with stepbrothers simon, gaz, and soap 🏖️

tw/cw — stepcest, dub-con, groping, humping. 18+

wearing a bikini around your stepbrothers is risky. their perverted gaze wanders all over your body, admiring your curves and reaching to grope you before their grimey, dirty hands are smacked away.

johnny and kyle especially can't help themselves, while simon has more self control—or at least in comparison to the other two. simon gets off from afar, leaning back on his chair, jerking off to the sight of you in such a revealing bikini. he strokes himself slowly, his breathing heavy and fast, with sweat running down his muscular, toned body. johnny will play fight with you, allowing him to rub and grind up against you without consequences. he'll drag you into the warm water, his large hands dipping between your thighs ‘accidentally’, rubbing at your clothed cunt while his fingers reach beneath your bikini top, playing with your stiff nipples.

gaz will massage sunscreen onto your back and along your smooth and supple legs, an excuse to become touchy with his little stepsister. his breathing is heavy as he maintains eye contact with you, and his eyelids are heavy with his lengthy dick hardening. you're so friendly and playful, brushing off their perverted and depraved behaviour, neglecting the boner you've given them all. how are they supposed to get off after all your teasing, dove? 

you're such a little brat, my love. sitting on simon's lap, rubbing his boner over his swimming shorts, and smiling at him so sweetly, so innocently. you leave his veiny dick throbbing and sore, running off to go rile up the others, giggling at the effect you have on them.

[briefalpacashark]

Insults

================================================

141 walks into a bar. There are well known.

"Look it's the brits,"

Y/N and Jonny: *Argast, repulsed, deeply offended gasps of shock*

[st4rymoon]

𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 • Simon Riley x Fem Reader

- smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, choking, rough sex, pet names, language

Simon overestimated how much control he thought he had when it came to you. He swore to himself that he’d be gentle, fuck you gently into his brand new sheets he bought specifically for this moment.

But he should’ve known better, you sure did.

Simon had you on your back, chest to chest as he fucked himself nice and snug into your fertile womb. Strands of your hair messily stuck to your face as Simon’s heavy hand laid wrapped around your throat, hips thrusting into you at such a brutal pace the wind got knocked out of you with every slam.

Your nails dug into his wrist as he began to fuck you at an angle that had his weight making the bed creak. “Si- Simon” you panted as his arms now cradled your head, the fresh breath of air making you let out the prettiest moan.

He had you caged between his arms as his cock nudged at your gummy cervix. “Fuckk” Simon grunted under his breath, head flying back at the feeling of your cunt hugging him in a vice like grip. “I lov- love it so much I love you si, si oh m-“ you were mumbling nonsense and Simon loved it.

He hummed in acknowledgment with a condescending tone that had you purring in pleasure. “Mhm, mhm, I know bunny, jus’ let it out” he cooed as you clawed at his shoulders. The dumb fucked look on your face made Simon chuckle, he wish he could’ve snapped a photo.

Tears streamed down your face as you came around Simon, the orgasm feeling like an out of body experience as he whispered into your ear “you always take me like a fuckin’ pro, my gorgeous pretty girl” he purred.

“You jus’ want me to make you a mama huh? Don’t worry, shh shh don’t worry” Simon cooed as you began to nod with tears pooling down your cheeks “w- wanna make you a dad- daddy” you drunkly hiccuped.

That was all Simon needed to insure his promise. His cock twitched inside you as he spurt thick white ropes into your messy cunt. His hips slowly fucked his cum deeper with each steady thrust, mouth agar as he let out a heavy moan.

Both of you clinged onto each other as you took a deep breath. Simon pulled out of you carefully, making sure he didn’t let any of his work slip out.

You buried into Simon the second he plotted beside you. Your face nuzzled into his neck as his hands pulled you into a bear hug “you’ll be the best mama” Simon whispered before your eyes began to feel droopy.

[saturncodedstarlette]

[What if Ghost & Y/N were childhood friends]

Kid!Y/N, taking a walk : ☺️🌈🌸

[Then Y/N spotted Simon sitting on the bench at the playground, holding his baby brother, and seems to be sad]

Kid!Y/N : Is that… Simon?

Kid!Y/N, gasps : It is Simon! SI! *runs to Simon*

Kid!Simon, perks up hearing his signature nickname : Y/N?

Kid!Y/N : It really is you! Good golly, I haven’t seen you around for weeks! Where have you been, silly? You made me worried!

Kid!Simon : Sorry, Y/N. Some stuff happened at home, and I wasn’t allowed to come out and play with you..

Kid!Y/N, sits down next to him : Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re back! Oh hi, Tommy~! You’re growing up so fast!

Kid!Simon, laughs : And heavier

Kid!Y/N, swinging legs : So uhh do you wanna talk about why you weren’t allowed to come to hang out with me?

Kid!Simon, blew raspberries : Nothing out of usual, my dad argued with my mom. I stood up for her, only for him to hit me again. Then he grounded me.

Kid!Y/N : Oh.. I’m sorry Si

Kid!Simon, shrugs : It’s fine, I can handle it. Y’know I managed to get out because they were arguing again, and I thought that Tommy might wanted a different view than boring grey walls.

Kid!Y/N : . . .

Kid!Simon : . . .

Kid!Y/N, gasps : I know a way to cheer you up!

Kid!Simon : Oh yeah?

Kid!Y/N, standing in front of him : Okay, so whenever you feel upset or angry, you collect it into your palms!

Kid!Simon : Uhh how do I collect upset and angry?

Kid!Y/N : You just feel where it is and go get it! There’s usually some in your belly or your neck!

[Confused Simon copying Y/N’s actions by grabbing his upset from his belly into his palm]

Kid!Y/N : And always remember to check your ears, okay?

[Simon & Y/N bounce up and down with their heads cocked, as though they're trying to shake something out of their ears, with their hands held out to catch it while giggling]

Kid!Y/N : Now did you collect all your upset and angry in your hands?

Kid!Simon : Yeah, what do I do with it?

Kid!Y/N : Do you want to keep it?

Kid!Simon, sticking his tongue out in disgust : No way!

Kid!Y/N : Well if you don’t want it, you throw it into the garbage bin!

[Cues to Simon throwing his ‘upset’ & ‘angry’ into the bin, then Y/N closes the lid]

Kid!Y/N : There, now how do you feel?

Kid!Simon : hmmm a lot better actually

Kid!Y/N : Horray! See, you can do this technique again whenever you feel that way again, okay?

Kid!Simon, happily nods : Thanks, teddy bear!

[To present day]

Soap, whispers to Gaz : What the bloody hell is he doing?

Gaz, drinking coffee : He’s been like this for solid 5 minutes now

Soap : What? Is he throwing his invisible trash into the air or something?

Gaz, shrugs :

[hauntedbubbles]

That's my boys!

[cntloup]

Medieval AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“I know this is too much to take in right now. You can always back out. I don’t wish to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” he utters in a soft and sincere tone while you both sit on the bed with your backs against the headboard. 

You offer a small smile through the heaviness in your heart. Is this truly what you want? Can you trust him? 

You've spent all night talking and getting to know each other. Although it was mostly you who did the talking. But he answered some of your questions... very briefly of course. 

He mentioned that his father was a ‘bloody prick’. But his mother... he truly loved her... still does as you have noticed by the way he speaks about her. And his brother Tommy and Tommy’s wife, Beth and their son, Joseph... all so dear to him. 

“All dead.” he replies in a cold, monotone voice after you ask where they are and takes a sip of the bottle of whiskey in his hand. 

“I’m... so sorry.” you breathe out, shocked at the revelation, not truly knowing how to react.  

You can sense the hint of pain in his voice, you can see it in his eyes even though he keeps it all to himself, the walls around him too high and broad, strong but not entirely unbreakable. 

And deep down, you wish you could take all that pain away. No human should ever go through what he has. 

And you know he hasn’t told you everything. You still have to earn his trust for him to open up to you. And you understand that since he has to earn your trust as well. 

He tenses up at your touch as you take his hand in yours, but eventually warms up and turns his hand over to hold yours. 

“I’m really sorry. I know this is hard on you too. I never wished to be such a nuisance-”, “You’re not... It’s fine.” he cuts you off, turning his head to look you in the eye and you return his gaze with a soft smile. 

But you quickly shy away under the intensity of his glare and turn your head away. 

And you’ve noticed the slight edge to his tone. It definitely is difficult for him as well. 

Moments pass with a heavy silence settling in the room. 

He has been nothing but kind to you, never making any advances towards you, unlike all the other men you have encountered.

Although you can’t help but feel a leaden weight in your chest, almost crushing your heart. 

How can you marry a man you barely know?

But you’re aware that you have no choice. 

And despite all of that, you can’t help but sense the slight tingle in your heart. He surely makes you feel something... Is it quite love though?

Despite his rough and tough attitude, the seething danger in his eyes, you know there lies a good man beneath it all. 

All the conflicting emotions coursing through you make your eyes tear up and you can’t help the sobs escaping you ‘till morning comes as you lay in your bed. 

----- 

The ceremony is simple... and rushed of course. 

As he says his vows, you can feel the sincerity in his tone which makes your heart warm up, almost melting at his words with that deep, gravelly voice. 

And he kisses you so tenderly, his lips lingering on yours, making your heart flutter in your chest. 

He sends the guests away so you can have your privacy, despite traditions calling for them to stay. 

“We don’t have to do anything.” he says softly after you walk into the bedroom, stepping closer to you as you fumble with your dress while looking down, sensing your nervousness radiating off you. 

“Really? Are you sure that’s alright?” you ask anxiously, “I’m not going to force myself on you!” he responds, nearly in disbelief that you would think that. 

“I know... I just...” you mumble and chuckle nervously, “Alright. I-I'm really exhausted. I think I will go to bed.” you add with a smile, “Alright.” he nods and steps away to change his clothes. 

He walks up to you after he notices you struggling with your dress, “May I?” he offers, “Yes. Please!” you respond and turn around so he can untie the straps. 

And he does it with so much care and tenderness, the slight brush of his fingers on your skin sending shivers through your body. 

As you go on with your nightly routine, brushing your hair in front of the mirror on your vanity table, he sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on you. 

“What?” you ask with a shy smile as you notice his stare burning through your soul, “Nothing.” he says, returning the smile and looking away for a moment before looking up at you again. 

You finish your business and walk towards the bed where he’s still sitting, “You’re staring!” you scold playfully, “I’m merely admiring my wife.” he says with a boyish smile, “Well, thank you... husband.” you reply, looking down with your cheeks heating up. 

You settle on each side of the bed, but you can’t help the desire to feel close to him bubbling up inside you, “Can you... please... hold me?” you ask shyly, voice barely above a whisper, “ ‘course, love.” he replies, offering a warm smile before shuffling closer to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

“Better?” he asks, “Much better.” you nod, nearly melting in his warm embrace.

Maybe this arrangement is not so bad after all. 

[artistcalledbella]

portrait of makarov

[hellshire-harlot]

Can’t stop thinking about Childhood Best Friend!Simon Riley. So here.

TW: Mentions of bullying, based heavily off my own childhood, Reader is GN and a child (and presumably American), Fluff and a sprinkle of angst, Autistic!Reader, Simon’s backstory

You meet him when your locker is placed next to his in the second grade. He’s a scraggly little kid, quiet with studious, curious eyes. He doesn’t talk much, like you. You like him almost immediately. Then he opens his mouth, telling the boys who always pick on you to ‘sod off’. He has a funny accent, and you like it.

His name is Simon, which you think is a pretty name. And like all childhood friendships, the bond is as strong as it was quickly sealed. When your teacher calls all of you to the carpet for a lecture or a lesson, you and him always sit together, criss-cross-applesauce like you’re supposed to. When you get fidgety, you bump your knees against each other’s, a silent little language only the two of you know.

Where once both you and him were very quiet, together, you come out of your shells. As much as your teacher likes seeing the two of you blossom, she does have to remind you not to chat during class when there’s work to be done. But it’s hard! You’ve never connected with someone like you have with Simon.

At lunch, you both sit together, always. Usually you sit in a quieter part of the cafeteria, at the end of the long tables where few people sit. During lunch he tells you about his brother, Tommy, and you think he talks so much to distract you from the fact that he has precious little to eat. You don’t like how little he eats, so you parcel out portions of your own (admittedly meager) lunch for him. He insists you don’t have to, but you insist that you do, because that’s what friends are for! He likes being your friend. From that day forward his stomach rumbles a little less each day.

At recess you and him play the wildest games, either just the two of you or with another group of kids. After all, the playground is the neutral ground- all rivalries, all bullying stops the second the recess bell rings and everyone steps out into the mulch. He’s really fast, and a little too strong for his age and size, and you think maybe sometimes he lets you win. Never once do you stray too far from one another; you and him both silently fear that leaving even once will reveal that the other is merely an illusion.

You think differently than most other kids. Simon does too, and in that you find kinship. When numbers jumble in your head, he helps you, solving problems with ease, and when he struggles to get through his writing assignments you guide him through each paragraph. Art class is a favorite you share. Watercolors stain your little fingers, and a dot of pink paint remains on your nose from when he dabbed just a bit on the tip. Together, you make works of art that your teacher is left in awe of.

Where once classes were an endless boring struggle, time passes in a golden, hazy bliss with him at your side. He has the same mind as you, something you’ve never encountered, and it’s magical. Suddenly all the bullies, the cruel kids and the indifferent teachers, cease to matter, because you have the bestest friend in the whole wide world. He takes the bus home, and you get picked up by a parent each afternoon, and every time you have to part for the day you hug and promise to bring him something nice to eat for lunch tomorrow. From the car window, your parent watches on, thrilled that their child has made such a wondrous friend.

Weeks turn into months turn into years. Simon cries when you make him a Christmas gift in class, you hug him so tight he can barely breathe when he leaves a Valentine’s gift in your locker, the only one to do so. You beg your teachers and parents to keep putting you in the same class as him, and blessedly, they allow it. From second to third to fourth grade things remain the same. It’s hard sometimes, but Simon is going through the same things. It’s nice not to be alone, and even when everyone else turns against you, he stays by your side.

It’s in fifth grade that you both finally convince your parents to have him over for a night or two. And when Simon comes to your house, your parents go a little quiet. You don’t know why- yeah, he’s a little scrawny and thin for his age, and he gets banged up sometimes, but who doesn’t? You’re too young, too sweet, to know the truth behind the visible ribs and the endless bruises and scars on your friend’s body. But your parents are keen, and when they realize the extent of Simon’s situation, they know they have to do something.

The next morning, your dad cooks a huge breakfast for all of you, and Simon is thrilled to be eating so much delicious food! Your parents, though worried and protective, are utterly enchanted by your friend. They make sure to keep you and him occupied over the weekend while they do what they need to do. Neither you nor him overhear the endless calls they make in adjacent rooms to various services. The final straw is when you accidentally knock something onto the kitchen floor, and Simon panics. When your parents come in to see if you’re alright, he puts himself in front of you and orders them in a voice far too mature to leave you alone. As if they’d do anything to you, as if they’d hurt you. As if he needed to protect you.

That night, you and him share a sleeping bag because he has nightmares about snakes and men in skull masks. You give him one of your stuffies to hold. Deep into the night, two people, skittish and dirty and scared, are welcomed into your house.

Simon’s mom and little Tommy.

Through the school’s counselor your parents got ahold of Simon’s mother, telling her to pack what she could and come to your home, where she and Tommy would be safe. Simon is both confused and happy to see his family at the table for breakfast the next morning, and you’re thrilled to meet his family. But the talk around the grownup table is all serious, and so you and Simon and Tommy are left in another room to play.

In the afternoon CPS comes knocking, to interview Simon and his mom. They look him over, jot down his address, and leave, and only a few hours later they call your parents again to inform you all that Simon’s dad has been arrested. He’ll never touch Simon or Tommy again.

After that, things are kind of a blur. Simon’s mom gets full custody when his dad gets life in prison for his crimes, which you learn more about as you grow older. When the house next door to yours opens up, you help the Rileys purchase it, and the fence between your adjacent lawns gets taken down. More years pass, as you and Simon and Tommy grow up all together.

Some things get worse over time, but Simon is there. Always. And he’s not going anywhere.

[konigsblog]

thinkin' about rapist simon and rapist price.

cw: rape/non-con, dark fiction, dead dove: do not eat. MDNI 18+ 🔞🩸

they're cruel and violent with their favourite recruit. you're always so obedient and eager for their validation, so compliant and easy to coerce. they want an excuse to scream at you ‘til you're sobbing and trembling, to see your daft mug glistening with your tears, cheeks glossy.

your anxiety and nervousness is visible on your dumb little face when they hiss at you, terrified that you might've upset them. they adore mocking you, taunting you for being such a goody two-shoes. they'll excuse their touchiness as them just innocently training their favourite rookie, helping you out with your form, grinning ear to ear at your naivety and trustworthiness.

it's your own fault you're in this state.

you're drunk, gagged, blindfolded, and bound. you're bent over your captain's desk, with simon's fat cock stuffing your mouth, gagging you. your captain drives his broad hips into you while grasping at the rope binding your wrists together, sliding his swollen dick into your raw folds ‘til you're coating their cock in pearly arousal, whether you like it or not.

they love the mortified and horrified look plastered on your face when you're left alone with the pair, knowing you're going to be brutalised and violated again and again until they've had their fill.

[gravesshoe]

Phillip Graves would be an overprotective hubby!!

Graves gives such overprotective vibes hihihi

He would have your location on his phone, and vice versa, you'd have his, so just in case, you'd always know where to find him :))

Leaving the house after dark? Hah, didn't think so baby, he's going with you, or at least, drive you to wherever you got to be and of course pick you up too.

While we're on it, he's always offering to drive you everywhere. Going to a friends house? Shopping? Going to the gym? he doesn't care, he's your personal escort because what else is a husband good for, duh.

Need him to pick you up because something inconvenient happened? He's there in a heartbeat. Car broke down? Don't worry Phillip is already on his way. Don't feel safe somewhere? Drops whatever he's doing to come and get you.

Phillip doesn't ask question, you need him? he's there. He's a simple man after all.

On that note, even if you were travelling and things went south, he'd be there too. Even if it's on the other side of the world, he'd either send his men or come there himself, depends on the situation of course.

Side walk rule!!! He follows that rule and you know it!

Overall, Phillip loves his wife wayyy too much not to be this way. He'd never be controlling, possessive or jealous, he trusts you completely and would never do anything to limit your freedom, he just wants you to safe <3

[gothghostiie]

ghost who livestreams himself fucking you and does whatever the depraved tippers ask? including pissing on you, hitting you, etc. and he loves to make comments about you as if you’re not even there 🥵 “look ‘ow pink she is here”

YESSSSS STREAMER!GHOST LETS GOOOOO

hes so rough and brutal, fucking your poor holes raw and sore, slapping your face, your pretty tits, even your clit :( his tippers see that he'll do whatever they ask and the fact that you enjoy it is just so much better!!

he follows their every wish, pretty much brutalising his pretty baby, who knows how far these pervs will go?

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

We won't be like them.

Ghost x Reader.

Mistakes were made in the past by your families, now, you and ghost are starting a family, and this situation takes both to reconsider if you will repeat the same paths that your families took or will you fix it.

Warning: grammatical and spelling errors, I think there's no mention of the reader's gender but if there's please forgive me.

The credits of the pics belong to @ave661

Simon wasn't at home but he would arrive soon, both have been trouble, arguing frequently for the most stupid things.

It's late at night, your newborn is sleeping, after hours of singing lullabies, walking around the house to help him to sleep, he's finally sleeping.

You were a mess, you didn't take a shower, dirty dishes are awaiting you in the kitchen, the laundry is still in the washer since you didn't have time to put it in the dryer, dirty diapers are making the house smell bad, and your poor baby cried for hours and hours, it wasn't a good day for you, you just need ten minutes to rest.

You're sitting close to the crib when the door opens and then a bark echoes around the house, you stand up and run out of the room quickly to ask Simon to take the dog out or keep it in silence but then your baby starts to cry.

«Shit» you whispered walking back to the room, taking your baby in arms and talking him softly to try to calm him down «it's okay baby, shhh, it's all alright, don't cry please, shhh, shh...» Ghost rapidly understands the reason the baby's crying, he takes the dog to the garage and goes directly to the baby's room to help. Unfortunately your face says more than necessary, you're not happy.

- I'll take care of him, go to rest.

- As if I could...

You rolled your eyes. He can't be mad at you, he knows he messed up.

- Sorry... the mission took me more than expected, please let me help you with him.

- It's fine, I have it under control, take a shower you stink.

He sighs and leaves the room, walking through the house he observes all the mess, toys scattered, the smell of poo and dirty dishes, the laundry. He really can't blame you, you stayed alone with a newborn for days, but he can't avoid feeling overwhelmed by all the mess and the situation, he never expected to have a family because of both pasts but here he is, husband and now father, it's all new for both of you, but moments like this makes him wonder if you and him took the right decision.

He took a quick shower and as soon as he finished he went directly to the laundry room and put all the wet clothes in the dryer and put another load of clothes, he thinks the least he can do right now is try to help with the workload, even if he feels tired he knows you must be more than exhausted.

Poor Simon, he forgot to separate the baby's clothes from the rest, then he washed the dishes but he forgot to sterilize the feeding bottles.

Finally your baby is sleeping peacefully again, you are tired but you have work to do, maybe Simon is hungry or needs something, the poor man didn't have intentions to wake up the baby, it wasn't very polite of you to reject him and then tell him he was stinky.

On your way to the kitchen you started to clean a little, taking the bags of dirty diapers out, picking up the toys when you hear the alarm from your dryer, Simon tried to help after all you said, you're taking out the clothes when you notice the washer is also working and unfortunately there's clothes from the baby mixed with yours and Simon's clothes.

You're walking to the kitchen to tell Simon he forgot to not mix the laundry when then, the feeding bottles are mixed with the dishes and casseroles too.

He's drying and ordering all the kitchen stuff with the same dishcloth.

- What are you doing!? Simon you mixed the baby's stuff! Oh god, do you have a clue of the new load of work your adding me! I will have to wash and sterilize all the baby's things again!

- Sorry... I was trying to help, I forgot about it.

- «Sorry, sorry» is all you know to say but the damage is done! Fuck!

- Calm down, I'll take care of it.

- You have done more than enough, why don't you go to another long mission and leave me alone again, huh?

He's shocked as much as you, you know you said something really horrible, there's no way you can step back.

- What did you say?

- I'm... Ahhh, Nothing, I'm just tired.

- Do you think I went to that bloody mission to leave you here alone with the baby? I didn't want to but it was work and I can't reject it.

- What about the paternity permission?

- I would have the authorization after this mission, I told you about it but it seems you weren't paying attention.

You scoffed, clearly offended and annoyed.

- Well sorry, I'm worried about our newborn, it's my first time with a baby and I'm trying to do it well, you could also pay more attention when I told you I don't want to mix our stuff with his.

- I forgot it, okay? I'm as tired as you! I said I will fix it and you started to argue!

- I wouldn't start if it wasn't for you and that god-damned dog barking as crazy! Your son hasn't slept the whole day and you arrived doing all that noise!

- and am I supposed to know that!?

- Don't yell! You will wake him up Simon!

- It's you who's yelling!

- Now it's me? You're blaming me for everything just like my dad did to my mom!

-And You're exploding against me just like my father!

Both stopped when the little boy started to cry again. Ghost just walked out of the kitchen and went upstairs, you stayed there cursing yourself and started to wash the bottles again, then you went to check the washer and separate the clothes.

Your son cried for a few more minutes but then stopped. You finished all the stuff you had pendant, you saw Simon's backpack In the doorframe, there was probably more laundry inside so you took it and just as you expected, more dirty clothes, you were separating it by colours as usual when you saw his uniform with fresh blood. You sighed annoyed but then the thought of Simon being injured kicked your mind, you put the clothes in a bucket with some hydrogen peroxide to quit the blood easily and went upstairs.

Simon was putting the baby in his baby crib when he looked at you and made a signal to be silent. Once both are out of the room you point to the bathroom, he doesn't say nothing and follows you.

- Are you hurt?

- What?

- I saw your uniform with blood, is it yours?

- Oh, it's nothing, the medic helped me, I'll be better in a few days.

- Let me see, do we need to clean the wound or something?

- It's fine Love, nothing serious.

Your eyes are full of tears, you feel guilty, he tried to help with all and his wound and you didn't more than yell at him.

- I'm sorry Si, I didn't mean to explode with you, I was stressed you arrived at home expecting to have some peace and instead of it you found all the mess, I'm so sorry.

He just hugs you and whispers «it's okay my love, shhh, it's ok» once you stop your tears you check on his wound, it's not so bad but was bleeding a little bit more, you were cleaning it when he spoke.

- Look at me, love, I know you're exhausted it wasn't my intention to give you more work, I really was trying to help you.

- I know, I'm sorry... We... we have to solve these things now before that boy starts to grow up, I don't want to give him the same childhood we had, I want to give him a good family, good memories and we're not doing it well lately... We argue all the time and I think the baby feels our stress and then he stresses too... We're bad parents... We are not doing it right.

- I know, we have things to solve, and I want to tell you I have all the intention to fix it, we're new to this, it's also not fair for us to put us expectations of being perfect all the time. we can... Read about parenthood or look for professional help, we will do all in our possibilities to change and be better, it won't happen from night to morning it'll take time, we won't follow our families steps, I promise you I will be a better husband and a good father for our son.

You smiled at him and he returns the smile, you love when he does it, Simon never smiles except when he's with you, nobody else. His smile is only for you and now for your little boy, his words reassure you, he's right it'll be a long process but you will make it, this new family will work.

[cntloup]

one-night stand your first date :)

Part 1

“Hey!” you greet him with a welcoming smile, your gaze lingering on his scar-adorned features and his mysteriously alluring eyes, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. 

“Hey...” he responds, holding your riveted glare as if you’re the most enchanting soul to ever walk the earth. 

(you both just stand there like idiots staring at each other with heart eyes for a good few minutes) 

He called you to say he’s gonna take you to the pub with his mates. 

He didn’t even ask you, only told you to message him the address and that he’s gonna pick you up. 

(what a freak! I love him!! and yes he takes you to meet the lads on your first date because they're the closest thing to a family he's got so he wants you to meet them asap and he's already planned your wedding in his mind!!) 

“Umm... these are for you!” he mumbles, holding out the bouquet of flowers he got you, his unwavering stare still fixated on you. 

(he asked Gaz what to get you and he said the simple old-fashioned flowers are the best way to go)

“Oh! These are beautiful! Thank you so much!” you exclaim, almost tearing up as you take the flowers with a grateful nod.

(spending a good few more minutes staring at the flowers while sobbing, the poor lad thinks he did something wrong!) 

“Fuck! Sorry! I love them! Thank you... again!” you ramble and chuckle nervously while furiously wiping your tears with your sleeve and turn back to go inside and put the flowers in a vase. 

“So? Where to?” you ask excitedly when you walk back to the door, “To the pub. Near my place. About 20 minutes from here.” he states matter of factly, yet somehow it sounds intriguing. Maybe it’s just his voice that makes everything sound so... so... (idk man his voice just does something to me) 

He leads you to his car, a Range Rover Velar, suitable for a guy like him; it holds an intimidating and mysterious aura paired with a rough and tough attitude, yet maintaining a sense of style, captivating. 

He opens the door for you and the moment you step inside, a mixed aroma of whiskey and leather reaches your nose, intoxicating. 

He lets you pick the songs during the whole drive and sing along off-key while he chuckles at you, surprisingly not annoyed one bit. On the contrary, his heart might just burst out of his chest. 

Once you arrive at the pub, he has his hand on the small of your back, leading you to their usual cozy spot. 

You take a seat in the far corner of the booth and he sits beside you, resting his arm on the back of the chair behind your head and leaning closer to you to introduce everyone through the loud music. 

The faint smell of pine, bourbon and tobacco takes over your senses, the low timbre of his voice and the soft brush of his fingers on the back of your neck, already making your head cloudy and your heart flutter. 

As night carries on, you can feel the warmth in your heart turn into seething flames, engulfing your soul as he shifts closer and closer to you, his arm now wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him. 

His head is turned towards you all throughout the night, occasionally making sarcastic remarks and smiling proudly as you laugh, your beautiful laugh making him adore you even more if that’s even possible. 

He takes you back home before midnight, his paranoia creeping up on him out of nowhere and cursing himself for endangering your life even though nothing even remotely dangerous has occurred. 

He kisses you at your doorstep, his kiss so sweet and tender, melting your heart right at the spot. 

“Good night, dove.” he murmurs while softly caressing your cheek, “G’night, Si.” you whisper back with a hazy smile as if in a trance, absolutely smitten, bewitched even. 

He stays by your door and asks you to text him when you’re inside. 

He stays a few more minutes after you text, observing the surroundings to make sure no one has followed you. 

And he leaves with a newfound emotion enfolding him, reviving his cold, dead heart as he thought it was. 

[themotherofhorses]

Hi guys, it's Vic! Also known as:

Round TWO at addressing the extreme racism in the CoD fandom!

So it’s both odd and funny that my Indigenous fem!OC has pissed off so many random people, especially with the fact that I created her to ship with Ghost.

(A fictional character that has NO canon love interest, FYI. Sorry to bust y'all's little bubble. Well, there's Mara and Urban Tracker....)

Anyways, I really don't care if this post sounds bitchy in nature. I really don't, not anymore. Some of y'all need a damn wakeup call. Several months ago, in December of 2023, I made a post (here) regarding the sudden influx of hate I began receiving following the posting of my OC, SilentDove Reyes. For around two weeks after that post, the hate died down, and I felt motivated to create more content involving Dove and Ghost.

Until the hate picked up again with every little thing I posted that related to my OC x Ghost.

However....this new hate incorporated the MMIW. A bold ass move, in my opinion.

If you are not aware, the MMIW stands for "Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women." Alternate spellings include the MMIWG & MMIWGTS (Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Girls, and Two-Spirits). As of 2023, statistics indicate that Indigenous women face a 10x murder rate than any other race/ethnicity. I have made a previous post regarding the issue, seen here. The unfortunate truth is that young Indigenous girls are more likely to be SA'd and murdered than to attend college. Let that sink in for a moment.

Now, I am an Indigenous woman. That is no surprise there; I fashioned my OC to provide myself (and, by extension, others) with Native representation in a franchise I greatly enjoy. What IS surprising, however, is that me doing so has pissed off so many people. I'm very certain some of y'all must descend from Andrew Jackson, or John Wayne cause, christ on a bike driven by a pike.

Here is a screenshot of a hate anon I recently received:

Listen, I don't care who you ship Ghost with. I really don't. I've blocked numerous shipping tags, remained mindful of the content I'm interacting with, and surrounded myself with fellow mutuals who also have personal OCs. It is really that easy.

What I do care about is the fact that some of you CANNOT separate fanon headcanons from canon material.

Exhibit A:

So let’s clear some stuff up!

Soap x Ghost is NOT canon.

Ghost being queer is NOT canon.

And, most definitely, Ghost being a woman abuser who would harm/abuse/murder a woman (either physically, emotionally, psychologically) is NOT canon.

What IS canon is his and Soap's strong bond. In my eyes, that is a brotherly bond, reminding me of a big brother/little brother relationship; in my fanfiction, Soap is Ghost's children's uncle. In fact, his son (second-born child) is named after him.

You are, of course, free to view them as romantic; what you are not free to do is attack OC creators/non-shippers for not perceiving them like that.

That is just fucking weird and delusional behavior. Knock it off. You're giving your fellow normal shippers a bad name.

ALSO! Let’s clear things up!

1. I’m not straight — I’m bisexual and demisexual.

2. I’m only half white (Spanish, with Mexican heritage). I’m QUITE LITERALLY an enrolled Native, so I guess the best way to describe me is “biracial.”

3. It’s y’all ruining the canon gay representation by shipping Laswell—a GAY woman—with Price, despite the fact that she canonically has a wife.

4. My OC does not have a “dumb fucking name.” Her name is an Indigenous name with a specific backstory to it; it’ll be explored further in future fanfics once I find the motivation to return to writing.

Anyways, I highly doubt this will be the last post I create regarding this problem; apparently, a nice chunk of the fandom has this intense animosity towards fem!OCs, fem!Y/Ns, and BIPOC!OC creators. Alright. With that being said, I invite anyone who has similar experiences to share yours, either in the reblogs or in separate posts.

As sometimes we say during pow wows:

“The floor is all yours.”

Thank you!