#modern warfare 2
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thatoneghostcosplayer · 2 days ago
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DarkFox: Me and @hiro--aoki
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ltash · 1 day ago
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Submission.
Warning: Smut..
Ghost’s head dropped back onto the pillow, his chest rising and falling under your touch as you straddled his thick thighs. His breath came heavy as he held your gaze, a soft smirk playing on his lips. You leaned over, your fingers grazing his jaw, and without another word, captured his lips in a fierce, demanding kiss. You nipped at his lower lip, drawing a low growl from deep within his chest, your teeth grazing against his skin in a way that made his eyes darken with desire.
Your salivas mix together, tongues plundering into each other's mouths as they danced, teeth clattering with the intensity of your passionate kiss.
You felt him shift under you, his strong hands gripping your ass as you straddled him.
He swallowed nervously, his adam's apple bobbed up and down.
Every touch, every kiss only fueled the fire between you two. Your tongue darted into his mouth again, claiming every inch, as you teased and tangled with him, matching his intensity.
“You’re not holding back, are you?” he murmured, voice thick with arousal, his hands tightening on your ass.
“Not tonight, Ghost,” you whispered back, biting down on his lip before letting it go. “I told you what would happen if you caught me.”
His grip on you tightened even more as you sank down onto his thick leaking cock, your thighs bracing against his. A broken moan escaped him, and he pushed his head back into the pillow, closing his eyes as he lost himself in the feeling of your walls clenching around him, your warmth and tightness. The low, husky sound sent a shiver down your spine, filling you with a sense of power.
“Oh, babe… you feel so damn good,” he groaned, voice strained.
You smirked, rolling your hips slowly as you rode his cock, savouring every inch as you held his gaze. He was used to being in control, yet here he was, vulnerable and at your mercy. His breaths grew more ragged, his eyes half-lidded, watching you through a haze of desire.
Just as you felt his body tense beneath you, that telltale sign he was on the edge, you reached under the pillow, fingers finding the cold, unforgiving metal of his sidearm. Slowly, you lifted it, pressing it gently to his forehead. His eyes flew open, a flicker of shock mixed with excitement flashing across his face.
“Ah, ah,” you murmured with a wicked smile, tilting your head. “Don’t you dare come now, big boy… not until I say so.”
His breath caught in his throat, and for the first time, you saw him truly vulnerable, a trained killer and hardened soldier brought to his knees by a simple command. His jaw clenched, his eyes locked onto yours, his whole body fighting the desire building within him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he rasped, voice low and rough, a glint of submission in his gaze that sent a thrill through you.
You leaned forward, the barrel of the gun still pressed to his skin, whispering against his ear, “Atta Boy.”
And just like that, you resumed your movements, drawing out every second, keeping him on the edge as he lay there, helpless to resist you.
“You’re a cruel woman, you know that, don’t you?” he rasped, a low chuckle escaping him despite the situation.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes flickering to the gun now resting at the side of his face. His jaw clenched, the stubble scraping against his teeth, as he fought to regain control of his body.
His hands gripped your thighs tightly, his knuckles white from the effort of holding back. His voice was a low growl, “You’re playing with fire, darlin'... I'm only so far gone for you before I snap and take over...
"Is that so?"
“Oh, it is...” His breath hitched as you leaned over him, the gun still at his head as you began to ride him in long, languid strokes. “You’re testing my control, babe… testing the leash you’ve got me on.
With a sudden burst of strength, he flipped you onto your back, the gun falling from his forehead as he pinned your wrists above your head, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity. “Enough playing nice,” he snarled, his lips crashing against yours in a brutal kiss.
“You wanted the Ghost,” he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous, lethal tone. “Well, you’ve got him now.”  His lips found your neck, teeth nipping sharply as he marked you, his hips snapping forward, driving deep into you.
He growled against your skin, his grip on your wrists tightening as he continued his relentless assault, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside you. That's right, baby... you wanted the real me. The dangerous me.
His eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, filled with a primal hunger. He angled his hips, driving into you harder, deeper, determined to shatter you with pleasure. You wanted to see the monster, darlin? he growled, his voice rough with desire,
And with that, you submitted to him his touch, his body enveloping you completely.
You were consumed by him.. completely.
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giotanner · 2 days ago
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Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley and Sgt. John "Soap" MacTavish in: TROUBLEMAKERS
(support the entire tiktok here!)
(Please support my drawings with a Reblog to stay in CoD circle here on tumblr!)
ko-fi
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sw11ft · 1 day ago
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“Shadow 6-4, Moving in…”
More shots from the Halloween photoshoot!
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rj-opp · 2 days ago
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He digs your vibes😙💀
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urmomschocolatemilk · 2 months ago
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I 🩷 bikers
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Biker!Simon who’s tatted uppp. He’s rolling up his sleeves while he rides to let everyone get a look at his muscly arms laced with inked designs because yes, he does want to show off
Biker!Simon who's rolling up next to you at a red light, head turning while he thrums his fingers on the seat under him. He can feel your heated gaze through your window.
Biker!Simon who flips open his visor and lets his eyes find yours. He wants you to know that he sees you staring and he's staring right back at you
Biker!Simon who passes his phone to you with the new contact sheet open on his screen, ready for you to fill out
Biker!Simon who trashes on the TikTok bikers and calls them cornballs but doesn’t hesitate to send you photos of him in a compression shirt and helmet at any chance he gets
Biker!Simon who buys you a helmet before your first date, and takes you home. And no matter how much you beg him that night, he refuses to go above sixty on the highway because he why would he ever put his girl at risk like that?
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whateveriwant · 2 months ago
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I know I’ve already gone on and on about what it’s like to have a size difference with Simon Riley, but I’m sorry, I just will never get over how big and strong this man is.
Like I feel like sometimes his size gets lost on us since he’s surrounded by other tall, buff military guys all the time. But y’all, I’m telling you, this man is big. Like 6’4, 250+ pounds, big enough to eclipse the sun big.
With a man that big, it honestly doesn’t even matter what size you are because he’s always going to be bigger and stronger than you anyway. You can be tall, short, stocky, thin, whatever, and this man is still fully capable (and willing? 👀) of snapping you in half like a twig.
Are you worried about potential home invaders? Well, you shouldn’t be. One quick flick of his wrist and he’s breaking the neck of anyone who tries to threaten you. Did you accidentally lock yourself out of the house? Well, don’t bother calling a locksmith. There’s no lock left to pick after he’s just caved the door in with his foot. Do you have a really stubborn jar you’re struggling to open? Well, hand it over, love. He can crack that sucker open in half a second flat.
But Lord, don’t even get me started when it comes to all the ways Simon uses that strength of his in the bedroom.
Like when he tells you to sit on his face so he can eat you out. Don’t even try it with that nervous, hovering, “I’m too heavy, Si,” bullshit. You better sit your ass down right when and where he tells you to or he’ll hold you down by the hips until he’s had his fill.
Or when, after a night of heavy flirting and teasing, he’s got that look in his eye as he corners you against your entryway wall. Don’t be surprised when one moment your feet are firmly planted on the ground, and the next you’re lifted into the air, your legs slung over his arms as he drills into you like you’re his own little fuck puppet.
Or when he’s got you spread out on his bed, got your knees up by your ears, got the backs of your thighs burning in a way that’s matched only by how your walls have to stretch to take his thick cock. Don’t think he’s being mean or malicious when he sees your eyes well with tears but does nothing to change the way he’s fucking down into you. It’s not that Simon doesn’t care whenever you cry and quiver and plead with him to go easier on you, it’s that he knows the truth. He knows that, deep down, you love when he handles you like he isn’t afraid to break you.
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spiltspit · 7 months ago
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I just think johnny could convince simon to wear a kilt
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ave661 · 2 months ago
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rileyslibrary · 10 months ago
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After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.
A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!
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A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.
“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”
You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.
You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.
“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”
“Pardon?” he asks.
“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”
The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.
“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.
“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”
“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”
“Where am I?” You ask.
“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”
Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.
“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”
“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”
“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”
“Several.” He nods.
“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”
“It’s your job, love.” He replies.
“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”
“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”
“I was really worr—”
“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”
“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.
“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”
“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”
“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”
“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”
“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”
“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”
“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”
“Can he?”
“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”
“Is he that good?” He asks.
“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”
“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”
“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.
The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.
“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”
“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”
“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”
“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”
“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”
“Even then.” You confirm.
“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”
“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”
“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”
“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”
“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”
“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”
“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”
“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.
“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.
“What did he lie about?”
“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”
“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”
“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”
“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.
“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”
“I do,” he confirms.
“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”
“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”
“How is she?” You ask.
“Perfect.” He states.
“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”
“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.
“Do you love her?” You ask.
“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”
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elysianvrt · 7 months ago
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"So you do like me?"
"I like you alive."
--
pls take this sick doodle as an apology for not posting
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daredussy · 5 months ago
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stay safe out there 🫡
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chamomiletealeaf · 1 year ago
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Thought of this at work today lmao
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ltash · 4 months ago
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Lieutenant Simon Riley hates Lizards so when he spots one he calls you, his 5 feet shortie to get rid of it.
Minutes after he is screaming as you are following after him with the lizard in your hand.
"Get it off me ," he screams. "You'll pay for this."
Meanwhile soap is rolling on the floor crying while in a laughing fit.
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rj-opp · 2 months ago
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Dork dad 👶💀
Idea from here <3
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urmomschocolatemilk · 28 days ago
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Got a request for something like this a while ago n I lost it, but here it is!! ^_^
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Simon who “secretly” likes to be pampered and dotted on by you as much as he likes to pamper you.
He’ll put up a fight and pretend to hate the time you spend doing your skincare routine on him, cleaning up his beard stubble and shaping his eyebrows but he loves feeling cared for.
When you first ask him he put’s up a little bit of a fight but it doesn’t take to long for him to agree, mumbling a “fine,” and laying his head down in your lap.
All his complaints and grumbles quickly dissipate once you get started. After all there’s nothing to complain about when he’s being lulled into relaxation by warm towels and the scent of your perfume.
He keeps his eyes closed the entire time, only opening them when he feels the absence of your hands on his face for a moment to long or opening when he catches you snickering quietly.
“There’s nothin’ funny ‘bout this,” he grumbles, and that makes it even funnier to you.
Once you’re finished he sits up, watching as you pack your tools and when you finally look up at him and see the product of your work you’re almost in awe.
“What?”
You grin “You’re glowing Si!”
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