#cod:mw

[a-gromova]

Going Dark

[azucarera-art]

when u, a queen, come across another king, & u discuss how best to maximize ur joint slay 💅🏽✨

[monophobix]

to anyone writing simon/ghost fics,, lemme inform u that has GREEN/LIGHT BROWN eyes

pretty pretty eyes for a psychologically scarred pretty boy <3

[lethalchiralium]

Blackout | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: ha. was this expected? absolutely. this is just a little drabble because i love ghost so much

summary: sometimes all you need is someone to be there for you.

Ghost wasn’t one to pay attention to small details about his colleagues - more wanting to pay attention to the mission, the target. He found himself realizing that she hadn’t answered a single question he’d asked in the past ten minutes. He peered over one of the crates in the safe house, noticing how his teammate Artemis had her back to the wall, helmet off and (H/C) hair out of whatever updo she had earlier - hands pressed into her eyes.

“Art?”

Again, she didn’t answer - holding her head in her hands now. He stood up from his cot, setting his own helmet upon the mossy green canvas. He walked around the wooden crates, footsteps practically non-existent as he approached her.

Admittedly, he’s also not very good at the whole ‘emotion’ thing. He hesitantly tapped her shoe with his own foot, jolting her out of her little bubble. Her eyes were red and dazed when their eyes met - she snuggled before placing her face back in her hands.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for.” Ghost answered, his voice tumbled through his chest. “Move over.”

She moved over to her right, allowing him space to sit beside her. His back hit the wall and he slid down, now sitting on the floor with his legs spread out in front of him. His boots were partially untied, he didn’t really mind now - he pulled off the velcro straps keeping his body armor tight to his chest, releasing himself from the heavy and conforming prison.

“What’s wrong?”

She sniffled a little, moving her head to face away from Ghost. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” He sighed, looking at his gloves and examining a stray thread. Two fingers wrapped around it and pulled it, effectively snapping it off the glove. He looked at Artemis again. “I won’t ask.”

She felt a little peace in that moment, finally being able to feel a little more like herself. If she felt like conversing, she would’ve thanked Ghost verbally. But instead, she thanked him in her head as they then sat in silence for hours on end.

Copyright © 2022 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[ghostgazweek]

It is prompt release day!!

There are two (2) prompts per day, although you are only required to do one (unless you are feeling especially inspired). Prompts can be SFW or NSFW. It is up to you how you choose to interpret the prompt. Please make sure you tag your work appropriately.

Additionally, your work can also feature platonic Ghost+Gaz if you would like. We only ask that the relationship between Ghost and Gaz be the focus of your work, even if there is a different romantic pairing.

We would love if you could tag the blog directly in your posts on Tumblr to make sure we can find and reblog your work as well as using the hash tag #GhostGazWeek.

Excited to see everything you make for this underrepresented pairing.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Price visits Sweatbox in Soho and sees a Ghost.

(cw: oral sex, rimming, anal sex, gay sauna etiquette, sweaty gay men, repressed/closeted Price, bottom Ghost)

Price shut the locker with a relieved sigh and jumbled the numbers of the lock. He hadn't been to the Sweatbox in years but after that last spate of missions he was in desperate need of release. It had hit him at roughly 2100 that evening, a deep, keen ache in his gut and an itch beneath his skin.

He had shoved his feet into his boots and his desires had carried him to Soho. The bars were overflowing, the music loud and thumping. He paused outside the Duke of Wellington and hesitated in the doorway of the Admiral Duncan long enough to be jostled by two drunk boys stumbling into the night, but neither of the bars offered what he was immediately after. He would have to go through the song of dance of social interaction; buy drinks, dance, flirt. Price just didn't have it in him. Not anymore.

So he had trudged on; right down Wardour Street, his hands deep in his pockets; left down Great Marlborough Street, thinking perhaps if he could walk it off or thrash it out in the gym, then the ache would go away. It had been the emergence of a thickly muscled cub from Ramillies Street that had twigged the memory.

A sauna in Ramilies House and it was open twenty-four hours, seven days a week. It was tucked away behind Oxford Street, and he remembered that, in his youth, he had been excited by the idea of the average member of the public browsing the rails and shelves while thickly muscled men fucked each other raw barely two hundred yards away.

But now, he just needed to feel.

Price left the locker room and headed into the maze. It connected a number of saunas and it was in one of these that Price found his first liaison; a slim blond with a bright smile and a pretty little cock that fit perfectly in Price's mouth. Not quite enough, there was something missing, and Price nudged him away when a hand reached to squeeze his prick through his towel.

For half an hour Price sat in the heat and the steam, watching others arrive, connect, fuck and depart.

Connect.

That's what was missing. He wasn't looking for some whirlwind romance in a bloody sauna, but Price had always needed some form of deeper connection and understanding in sex. His first love had been a fellow rookie at the Royal Military Academy; it had been hot, heavy and swift, the connection built around raw desperation, exhaustion and a dogged will to succeed.

It had petered out the moment Price had graduated, the youngest officer to ever do so, and then been badged by the SAS. Since then, Price had tried to stick with like-minded men, men that understood him and the life. It was a fine line. A dangerous line. Especially before 2000 when being outed would have cost him a dishonourable discharge. Even now, the scars of those years, of Section 28, they stopped him from ever taking that step out of the shadows...

Fuck.

Price rubbed his hands over his face and left the sauna, resolving to grab a beer and then pick up the first pretty face who showed interest. He had a few hours to scratch this itch and make himself presentable for an online meeting. Better get to it.

The cafe was quiet; it was Sunday evening and most of the fun had happened the night before. There were only a scattered few men lounging on the sofas, chatting idly between bouts of touching and kissing, while porn played on the expensive-looking flat screens around the edge of the room. It was as Price marked the bar that he identified a sight that rooted his feet to the floor.

A broad, muscular back, an arm covered in skulls and miscellaneous battlefield imagery that was as familiar to him as the sight of his own damn beard in the mirror, and a balaclava'd head with a bit of fuzzy blonde showing at the scruff of the neck.

Price pressed his fingers into his eyes, pinched his nose, and then looked back to check Ghost wasn't a figment of dehydration or heatstroke from the bloody sauna. He wasn't. There he sat, calmly drinking a beer and watching a vintage porno on a nearby screen. His muscles were larger than even Ghost's standards, pumped from time in the gym, no doubt, and Price's prick gave an unhelpful twitch beneath his towel. At least some things remained constant.

There were two choices: Price could turn and walk away, which given the fragility of their situation here would have been the wiser option, or he could listen to the jittery excitement in the pit of his stomach and follow it to the bar.

His official report would have you believe Bravo Six to be truly peerless in issues of leadership, tracking and unconventional warfare, and then, in the small print, it would acknowledge his more than occasional frustration with rules and procedures. Tonight, he decided the small print would be well justified.

He slid into the bar stool at Ghost's side and folded his arms. There was a stillness to Ghost's posture now, replacing the relaxed fluidity of before. Price knew Ghost was regarding him, but in what way he couldn't be sure. Ghost, apparently reaching a conclusion, lifted his beer from the bar for another sip and Price watched his mouth more intently than he ever had before; lips gnarled by a deep, broad scar that bisected into a second on his jaw and neck.

"Sir," Ghost acknowledged, not taking his eyes off the television screen.

Heat balled in Price's belly. "Drop the 'sir', Lieuten--Simon. It means something else here."

"I'm aware."

Price nearly choked on his own spit. To cover the cough, he gestured at the semi-naked waiter and ordered himself a fifth of whiskey, and tightened his hand around it to keep it occupied.

"How long have you--?"

"Three hours."

Price squinted, and then realised Ghost was talking about his session in the sauna. "No, you muppet, how long have you been--?"

Even after all these years, sitting in a fucking sauna, Price couldn't say it.

Ghost had no such hang up. "Gay? Since I figured out what my dick was for." Notably, Ghost didn't return the question, which suggested he either wasn't entirely interested in the answer or felt like Price had overstepped.

Price stared at the whiskey in his hand, intimately aware of how hard he was getting under his towel, because his mind--so very fucking creative in the field--was now speed running all the ways he wanted to have Ghost, indulging in all those times he had pushed the fantasies down because leching after your straight junior officers was a one way ticket to personal hell. He wasn't entirely sure whether fucking your gay junior officer was any less self destructive.

"I've got a proposal," Ghost said, pushing his now empty bottle away. "I'm down to fuck, got one of the private cabins. It stays in here. Never leaves. We both get what we want."

There were so many layers to what Ghost was offering that it took Price a moment to parse them. The offer was clear as day, and Price knew he could trust Ghost's discretion; no one could keep a secret quite like Lieutenant Simon Riley. It was the, 'we both get what we want' part that left Price reeling.

Ghost reached over Price's lap and squeezed the length of his cock through his towel. Etiquette was clear in the saunas and Ghost's proposition couldn't have been more so. "First door on the right. Don't leave me waiting, sir."

Ghost slid from his stool, the towel sitting perfectly on the round curves of his arse, and disappeared into the maze. Price stared at the tumbler of whiskey in his hand and tried to reason himself out of making this mistake. It was no good; he was thinking with a different head that was desperate to feel Ghost's hand on it again.

Price knocked back his drink in two wincing gulps and grabbed a condom from the bowl on the bar. The maze was as calm as the cafe, but Price didn't pause to take in the ambience. If Ghost was following usual etiquette, his door would be open and there was a possibility that someone else would accept the invitation and Ghost would take the offer.

The door was indeed open, but the room was quiet but for the muffled sound of music. The sight that greeted Price as he stepped inside was something straight out of his wet dreams.

Ghost waited on his front, propped up on his elbows with his legs spread. The towel was gone and Price could see the elastic of a jock strap framing the two perfect curves of his arse. Between those thick thighs, Price could see the full swell of Ghost's sac, straining at soft cotton. Price knew Ghost was a work of art; he had admired his powerful body for years, watching it work in the gym and the field, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Ghost like this. Spread and compliant, his body begging in the way he tilted his hips to expose his hole, muscular back shifting subtly.

"Like what you see, sir?" asked that low growl, and Price swallowed hard.

"Always have, Simon." The setting felt too intimate for call signs and honorifics. Price closed the door, declining any interruptions from others, and left his towel by it. The confession had just slipped out, but how could he not confess? He was about to worship at a truly special altar.

Ghost watched Price as far as he could without twisting, those long lashes low, until Price knelt on the foot of the bed. He was so hard, so fucking wet too, leaking like a virgin rookie panting in his bunk. Simon smelled of clean sweat from the gym and the shower he'd taken before, and Price crawled over his body to press his nose into those soft tufts of hair escaping the bottom of Ghost's mask; the line where Simon started.

His cock settled into the cleft of Simon's arse, and he didn't miss the way Simon spread his legs a little further and rocked up into the pressure of it. Fuck. Simon wanted it, wanted his hole filled, and it was Price's prick he was demanding.

Price left the condom on the bed as he worked his way down Simon's back, nipping, licking and kissing every peak and valley in its muscular topography. He was rewarded with a soft, panted groan when he reached the swell of Simon's arse and ended his journey with a gentle nip. "Spread 'em," Price demanded, finding his voice behind the knot in his throat.

Simon did so obediently, shifting to press the inside of his knees into the mattress, his body arching deliciously in a single, athletic curve that defied any doubt that a man of his size could be flexible. Price ran his nose over the soft skin, kissing a patch of freckles, before he pressed his thumbs into each cheek and spread Simon open. The first lap of his tongue made Simon choke on a gasp, and Price savoured that small victory; he was taking some control back.

Simon had been so calm at the bar, so completely unbothered, and Price had choked and stumbled like a boy. Now, with his tongue laving broad circles around Simon's rim, he knew he had gained ground back. Tactical warfare. The bristles of his moustache must have felt good, because Simon pushed back a little, betraying a budding neediness.

Price licked deeper, curling and writhing his tongue until Simon's pants were ragged, his hips bucking and jittering in an effort to stay still. Price took his time teasing Simon open, savouring each new twitch and noise he coaxed from the formidable body beneath him. When Price pushed his tongue deep, Simon finally relented. "Sir, John... Please."

That single word straining out in Simon's low, gravelly timber made Price's dick throb and he knew he'd done teasing. He lifted back to his knees and snatched the condom up just as Simon reached for a small tube of poppers tucked beneath the pillow. "I'll be gentle, Simon," Price said, tossing the foil aside as he wrapped up.

"No," Simon replied. "I want it hard, deep. Proper." Simon chucked a bottle of lube down the bed.

"Oh, fuck," Price breathed, gnawing on his lower lip. It took all his willpower to keep his hands steady as he poured some slick over his cock, and then warmed some on his fingers to tease around Simon's hole. He let Simon take a few breaths of his aid, watched those impressive muscles bunch and relax, before he slipped a finger in to the last knuckle. Simon's body opened so easily, almost sucked him in, and Price groaned low in his chest. "Fuckin' hell, Simon. You're made for this."

Simon grunted, rolling his hips back, his forehead dropping, and Price drew back to replace his hand with the tip of his prick. He was enjoying Simon's neediness, the way his skin shivered and his body opened itself so desperately, so he took his time thrusting in. With small, slow movements, Price enjoyed each successive inch he worked into slick, welcoming heat. He let the flare of his crown pop and catch on Simon's rim, enjoying the way Simon's body spread open around it.

It was better than he'd ever imagined, watching the sweat bead on Simon's back, feeling his body clench, listening to pants become low, tight moans of pleasure as Price finally worked in to the hilt.

"Ung, fuck," Simon huffed, fists clenching as he took another breath of relaxant. Price felt a swell of smug pride at the idea he was bigger than Simon's average and remembered what he'd been asked for. Hard, deep. Price slipped his hands beneath Simon's thighs to tilt his hips a little more, and set about finding a rhythm that would make Simon lose whatever self control he had left.

Price let his head fall back as he fucked into Simon with deep, hard thrusts. He found the right angle quickly enough, shifting a hand to press a palm to the small of Simon's back to keep him angled just right, and it was then that Simon found his voice. Each deep pound pushed a whimper or cuss from him, his head low between his shoulders as he clenched with each wet slap of Price's hips. Price found himself remembering those glorious tits of Simon's, always disguised by his tactical vest in the field, but perfectly framed in cotton during mess and down time.

Price drew out and hooked Simon's hip, flipping him onto his back. He didn't leave Simon empty for long, gathering muscular legs to his shoulders as he notched his prick against Simon's loose, greedy hole. Simon left one hand above his head, and circled his prick with the other, stripping it fast and hard with the same pace as Price's hips. Price spread his knees for purchase, chasing the building heat in his gut, coiling at the base of his spine, as he watched Simon's broad chest bounce, nipples pebbled, begging to sucked. "Fuck, Simon. Never thought I'd enjoy... your hole as much as this."

Simon didn't reply. He was too lost in the glorious burn of being fucked well. As he chased his peak, Price could hear him growl "yeah, yeah" under his breath, his free hand knotting in the sheets until his impressive cock finished in a hot load over his fist. His entire body tightened up, and Price fucked him through it, those pants turning into choked moans. Watching Simon unravel was enough for Price to find the edge, and he chased it to his own end, finishing deep in Simon and wishing the condom wasn't there. What he'd give to watch his claim leak out of Simon in the aftermath.

Price fell forward onto an elbow, his heart hammering in his chest. He had enough sense about him to draw out his softening cock, but not enough to prepare himself for the ragged lips that sealed over his and the eager tongue that swept into his mouth. Simon kissed like he fought; fierce, ruthless, single-minded, and Price moaned into it, before rolling off onto his back.

A few minutes of breathless silence passed, and then Simon grunted. "Only one?"

Price huffed an incredulous laugh. "Shit, Simon, let a man regroup."

Simon hummed and stretched with all the languid pleasure of a large cat sunning itself. "You've got a few more rounds in you yet, sir."

Turned out Price had quite a few more rounds in him. Half an hour later, Simon rode him, his head thrown back as powerful thighs fucked him down onto Price's prick, his hands behind his neck as Price squeezed his chest and teased his cock. Price took him again in one of the saunas, their skin slick with sweat, sensitive with heat. Price licked the drips from Simon's spine, grinding deep, barely withdrawing as Simon gripped the bench; Price made Simon shout his name that time. In between, Price gave Simon a massage and played with his hole, his balls, murmuring admiration and praise for the godly physique beneath his hands. They finished in the jacuzzi, Simon's mouth working down Price's cock as Price fingered him in slow, lazy thrusts.

They left the bathhouse in the early hours of the morning, and Price had begun the process of filing the whole experience into 'once in a lifetime' when Simon paused at the cusp of Oxford Street and glanced over his shoulder. "I'll be back next week." He pulled his mask down over his chin and disappeared into the pale early morning.

Price was already rearranging his plans for next Sunday.

[mikk1n]

🦇❤️🩸

[jesterlav]

Simon “Ghost” Riley in Modern Warfare 2 (2022)

Another Ghost dump for the horn dogs and casual ghost enjoyers on tumblr.

im playing on veteran now for my second playthrough and i just cant stop grabbing screenshots so have some more. <3

[iheartchv]

Hi!! I was wondering if I could please get a valentine letter from Ghost (COD) address to Koko and 🔥! Thank you!

Koko,

I want you. I need you. You drive me insane with your gorgeous body. I want to tease and play with your flesh till you're gasping with just the softest stroke of my fingertips... Those eyes rolled back or closed in ecstasy, your body squirming underneath me as you beg for more. But more than anything, love, I want to hear your voice. I want to hear you scream my name at the top of your lungs, and feel your nails dig into my back as I take you as mine.

That's just a little of how much you make me crave you. I want more and more of you everytime. I wish I was with you right now, and I know you're thinking the same thing. Don't worry, my love. Soon, I will be. Take this time to prepare yourself, because once I see you, I'm not going to stop myself until I have you.

I never really cared about these sort of things, but... Will you be my Valentine? 💝

- Ghost 💀

If you want a love letter from Ghost, or another character, check out this event🎀 ; it ends this Valentine's Day.

[ixghostred]

I have nothing too say 🚶🏻‍♀️

[bitchb0ybunny]

Lil Captain Price headcanons..

because this man is living in my head rent-free..

-Price definitely listens to old-ish music, not because he's old, the man is only like 38 (maybe like 42, but still), but because it's what he grew having his parents play. Elvis Presley? Yessir, he listens to Devil In Disguise at least once a day, typically in the morning when he needs a pick-me-up while waiting for his morning tea to steep. It reminds him of his mum. Another one of his favorites, more from his own time but still considered older, is Ain't No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell.. I Second That Emotion by Smokey Robinson & The Miracles is also something on his morning playlist, and his workout playlist.

-Price definitely is the type of person to, if given the chance, adore having kids around. Definitely a family man in secret, really wants to settle down with someone and have a couple kids, but gave up on that after becoming a Captain for the 141 for two reasons. One, he's too busy to be there for anyone and too confidential to form bonds (trust me, he's tried when he was younger), so relationships have never worked out and he'd never have time to keep up with his kids if he had any. And two, he's too scared for their safety. If someone found out that Johnathan Price, Captain of Task Force 141, had kids..? It wouldn't go well for anyone. His family could he used to blackmail him or something, and he wasn't about to let that happen. Not over his dead body.

-Price definitely likes to dance, but with his injuries and sore muscles from the military he doesn't get to dance that much anymore.. Doesn't have the time, either. His Mum and Dad probably taught him dances from their days, like swing dances, but also had him enrolled in either a waltzing class or a salsa class when he was in secondary school.. Dancing classes definitely made him popular with the ladies at School dances, which leads me into my next headcanon-

-Price was definitely a ladies man when he was younger, before he got all grumpy because of the military. Had women fawning over him when he was younger, had a few people call him a "Lady stealer" because of how polite and romantic he was with everyone, was a huge flirt in his youth.. He still has it, lots of women nowadays love a rugged man like him, but he doesn't use his flirtin skills anymore. Most he'll give it a smile that flashed his teeth, that were definitely just ever-so-slightly stained from his excessive consumption of black teas, or a bit of a mildly suggestive comment if he thought the person was really pretty.. Or if he really wanted a discount at the shops. In his later years, he discovered that he doesn't really care what gender someone is as long as he thinks they're attractive and nice, he'll flirt with just about anyone if they're cute enough (or if he wants a discount bad enough).

-Price has a nice singing voice, but doesn't sing often. It's soft, definitely like the type of music he listens to, and will often mumble-sing along to songs he particularly likes whenever he hears them. Doesn't matter if he's in a public space or not, it just keeps him occupied and helps him focus a little better.

Because of that,

-Price definitely listens to music while doing paperwork. He'll be sat at his desk, filing a report on a mission, listening to Wichita Lineman by Glen Campbell or Please, Mr. Postman by The Marvelettes, or something along those lines. Mumbling along to the lyrics softly, sometimes getting a little carried away and ending up singing along just loud enough for someone outside to hear his voice muffled by the music from his speakers.

"And I need you more than want you.. And I want you for all time, and the Wichita lineman.. is still on the line~"

[a-gromova]

Die to Live

[azucarera-art]

old doodle. didn't bother to refine.

also idk how to draw guns in 3/4 perspective sooo ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯🥪

[ohgeesoap]

Ghost in Behind the Lines: The Art of MW2

[ghostgazweek]

Mark your calendar, tumblr!! Round Two of GhostGaz Week is set for Monday, April 22 to Sunday, April 28. Prompt list drops March 1, 2024.

So excited for this event running a second time and to see all the wonderful work people will create. See you there!

[celenawrites]

so like I finished watching the gameplay of COD:MW (2019) and I have some thoughts:

warning - spoilers ahead

Gaz is just....such a badass. And exploring his psyche - wanting to have the reigns over how he tackles the mission assigned to him but still feeling conflicted over the methods they have employed (getting hostages for interrogation with the Butcher).... it's just absolutely phenomenal. (I'm so gonna write about him more and explore his psyche more if given the chance. Like I want this man conflicted and battling his demons y'all.)

First of all, Alex Keller and Farah Karim definitely have something going on. Like you cannot tell me that those prolonged eye contact and the banter means nothing???

Alex is pretty af. His eyes and his hair and his beard....just, yeah. He's so pretty. (I'm definitely gonna read more fics with him in it)

Seeing Cpt. John Price in action was amazing. He's such a badass. An even better leader. His command, every move of his....it was so riveting to watch him lead and fight.

Seeing flashbacks of Farah and Hadir just added more heartache. Really resonates with how war can truly ruin your whole life. They both have been through a lot.

Seeing Price as a Lieutenant was....yeah. He's just so dreamy fr. And still as tenacious.

Also Price has a freckle on his nose???? Why have I not noticed it before??? Why has no one written about it in fanfics????? I-

I was not prepared for who actually stole the chemical/gas. How could you, Hadir?? (I do get why he did it, really. But that's something I will probably discuss another day.)

Watching Farah kill Barkov was so satisfying, fuck yeah.

Laswell....yeah <3

Also seeing that scene where Price finally approached Laswell and formed Task Force - 141 was really something. I was so hyped up fr.