#mw imagine

[imaginesheaven]

Reader x TF 141 x Alex – Being Alex’s twin headcanons

Disclaimer: Doesn’t quite follow the story of the campaign missions of MW and MWII.

Warnings: Curse words? I have no idea *haha*

 Being twins with Alex is the best thing that ever happened to both of you. Since you can remember you always have each other’s back and that fact will never change. He is your best friend and you are his for the rest of your lives.

Alex being a smug and teasing you that you are actually five minutes younger than him. Referring to himself as your older brother. You roll your eyes at him grinning.

“You might be older, but I got the good looks and intelligence~”

Laswell would never admit it out loud, but is more than glad to have you both as a dream team on missions. If it gets complicated she can be sure that you two will sort it out discretely to her satisfaction.

Your reputation made round on the home base very quickly. Since you and Alex tend to work either alone or only the two of you together the other soldiers keep their respectfully distance. Mostly of them are just too scared to embarrass themselves in front of the two of you making small talk.  

“This is a dangerous mission. I will give you my two best soldiers. Of course, under the radar”, Laswell offers Price as she hands out mission files, “Get the twins!”

“No need to yell, Laswell. We can hear you very loud and clear”, you reply grinning as you make your way towards her and Price with Alex by your side. Both of you are already prepared with all you might need for the mission.

Captain Price heard a ton of good talk about the two of you. If he would want two soldiers by his side fighting it would be you and Alex. One day he will get you two on his team. “(Y/N), Alex. Nice to see you two still alive.”

Gaz can’t believe his eyes as you stand in front of him. Words spread like fire around the base so he knows a lot of stories about the Keller twins. He can feel the nervousness pooling in his body hoping he wouldn’t make a fool out of him.

“That’s Sergeant Kyle Garrick”, Price introduces you since the young soldier can’t a single word out. “Nice to meet you”, you reply grinning giving him a wink making his knees weak.

“Got your back, Kyle”, saving Gaz’s ass non-stop and making him blush every single time. Price enjoying what friendships grows between the two of you, but would never admit it. Just rolls his eyes, “Kids, stop playing.”

Being flirty with all the soldiers is a kind of hobby of yours. You just love how the toughest men and women get weak knees and stumble over their words in your presence.  

Your tactic for missions is mostly the same routine. Alex has your back from the distance with a good sniper rifle, while you stir up the hornets’ nest with your beloved shot gun.

During missions Alex and you love to roast each other with counting how many kills you get. “I just saved your sweet little ass out there”, you can almost hear the grin on Alex’ lips. “Easy to say, when you keep your shitty ass out of the fight. Come down into this chaos then we can talk”, you reply taking another enemy out.

“Hey, Alex. Got your eyes on me? Look at that”, giving him the stinky finger laughing. Alex shaking his head grinning looking at you through the scope, “Very mature.”

Sometimes the two of you argue which of you are actually the unplanned kid since your parents did definitely not sign up for double trouble twins like you are.

You would also tease him so hardcore because his crush on Farah. It doesn’t take your twin skills to sense that there is more going on between them than just friendship. You wouldn’t even need words just grinning at him wiggling your eyebrows seductively at the worst moments ever.

“So… You and Farah?” – “… Shut up, (Y/N).”

Being multitalented like you definitely have its perks since you love how everyone underestimates you at first.

“Shit, a bomb and only two minutes to disarm it”, Alex’ eyebrows furrow in light panic. Grinning you roll up your sleeves, “Fucking finally. Thought I could never use this skill.” Farah and Alex staring at you in disbelief as you defuse the bomb without even a single problem.

Since you and Alex don’t see each other sometimes for months you always have enough time to learn something new to bring him out of his coolness during moments like this one.

“You are such a show-off”, your brother rolls his eyes and lets out a big sigh. This earns you the full respect of Farah. She had no idea what an amazing soldier and fighter you are.

Captain Price keeps asking you every single time you have a mission together to join his new Task Force 141. You feel honored, but decline as always with, “I am not quite ready yet.”

Until the day Alex goes M.I.A.

“Either you tell (Y/N) what’s going on or I will”, the mention of your name peaks your interest as you follow the rather loud voices. “This is none of your business! The twins are under my commando and I will do what’s best for them”, Laswell has actually no idea what the best will be for you and Alex.

“What the hell is going on?”, since they are talking about you it is your right to bring yourself into this conversation. The well-known feeling of anxiety hangs onto your shoulders. Something feels very off.

“I’ll wait outside, kiddo”, Price’s heart breaks for you as he leaves you alone with Laswell. It is you right to know what happened to your twin brother, even if it might break your spirit.

“Alex is missing. We don’t even know if he’s still alive”, Laswell tells you with no ounce of sympathy. It’s like she wants to rip of the band-aid as fast as possible. You know if there would be a chance to search for him she would have send you out already. Sometimes you despise to work under the radar.

Without a word you end the conversation and leave the room behind. Price waits outside for you like promised, “Kiddo.” You really appreciate him being there for you, but right now you only want to be alone.

“I am here if you need something”, Price lets you know as you keep walking. “Never saw you in the father role but it suits you”, Laswell folds her arms in front of her chest. She never had the connection to her soldiers like Price does and Laswell knows exactly she just lost you and your skills to Price.

It takes weeks for you alone crying and trying to get back into being a soldier. You even took it onto yourself to tell your parents that Alex will probably be announced dead in a few months. It breaks your heart to see them devasted like you are, but it’s still better that they hear it from you instead from Laswell.

You hate yourself that it isn’t you who went missing. Alex was the better one of you in everything even if you always act confident. So, how should you go on with your life without him?

Fortunately, the Task Force 141 would never give you up. Since you work often together on missions they kind of turned into a second family next to your own family and Alex.

“What a nice surprise”, Price greets you smirking as you enter his office. “Captain, I’m ready to join the Task Force 141”, you can’t be on your own anymore. You need the team as your back-up to find peace once again.

“You are more than welcome, kiddo.”

Since you celebrated the holidays with your family and Alex when you weren’t on a mission, you couldn’t come back home alone. So, you just seduced the team to go with you. Let me tell you it’s chaos, but in the end good chaos.

Your parents are not happy about you bringing random soldiers home with you. They still mourn Alex like you do, but life goes on. The awkwardness shifts into pure bliss within a few days.

The whole team including you help out on the farm with your father. It’s what you and Alex did every time you get home. You all bring life back into their life.

Your mother loves to cook for all of you. The boys can’t help but enjoy to be cared for a few days.

And you can’t get over the fact that Gaz is actually scared of the goats. He wouldn’t even get near to feed them. “Have you an idea how brutal they can be?!”, Kyle tries to explain. The rest of the team just laughs about his behavior.

Soap knows how to drive a tractor, but dear lord! He is actually an awful driver and would destroy everything on his path. “Get off, Soap. This is madness!”

None of the men would admit but they are more than happy to get back home with you for the holidays again.

Of course, they can’t replace Alex, but they are also your family now.

[weskin-time]

may i request taking care of johnny (soap) after he gets injured and nagging him the whole time about being safer bc you’re always worried about him but he’s not listening and just gazing at you with the most lovestruck eyes <3

Injured!Soap x GN!Medic!Reader

CW- death (reader kills a few guys), graphic depictions of wounds, blood, needles, heavy drug mention (soap is high on morphine), medical treatment, guns if i missed any please let me know

i’m sorry i’m american so i’m basing this off the US army <3

“Soaps been hit, requesting medical in the restaurant east building first floor.” Ghosts voice was calm over the radio, a contrast to the sound of gunshots echoing off the walls.

Fucking hell Soap.

“Copy Lieutenant, on my way.” You tried to sound just as calm trying to ignore the unease bubbling in your throat and settling on your esophagus like a hand around your neck.

You were in the middle of an active war zone, a small town surrounded a small military like base. Makarov’s goons pushing your location while you and the rest of 141 returned fire, it seemed his men had no regards for the Geneva conventions as they shot at you, a combat medic. They must have good information in this base of theirs if they’re holding down fire this hard.

You checked from your cover to see if the coast was clear, sending a glance to Gaz who nodded back at you telling you he was going to cover you. There was 4 men on the other side of the clearing, two behind cover and the others moving up to pressure you and the sergeant. You had to make this quick for Soaps sake. Bringing up your M4 you aimed at one man on the opposite side of you pushing his way to Gaz, bracing for recoil you pulled the trigger. Rounds exploded out of the barrel and the man dropped to nothing but dead weight. Sweeping your gun to a man behind cover you saw Gaz do the same to the Russian on your side, seeing him drop dead. The man behind cover poked his torso out to aim at you but you were already waiting on him to show himself, as soon as his gun was up he jerked back and fell limp on the ground thanks to a headshot. The last goon soon followed the rest of his friends.

“Reloading.” You called out to Gaz and moved out of cover as you dropped and replaced the magazine in your assault rifle. “You good out here?”

“Yea I’ll be fine by myself, get to Soap, go!” He shooed you away and you turned tail to run into the building on your right. Gunshots rang out behind you.

As soon as you entered into the main lobby of what used to be a restaurant you spotted Ghost standing guard in the door way to the kitchen. He nodded at you and you nodded back as he turned around and lead you into the stainless steel kitchen.

Soap was lying on the ground, back leaned up against an oven, his combat vest off lying on the floor next to him and his left arm resting against his torso with his palm against his ribs.

The first thing you noticed was the blood.

You practically threw yourself onto the ground and tried to gauge his wounds.

“Well if it isn’t my knight in shining armor.” A wheeze of a chuckle came out of the scot before you, he sounded like he was in pain which was a dumb observation because he was very much in pain.

“Shush it dumb nuts, where’re you hit?” you pulled your medical backpack off and set it next to you as you sat on your claves, gingerly placing your M4 next to you as you turned the safety on.

He grunted, “Two in my thigh and stabbed in my side.”

You turned your head to Ghost who just stood there, “Ghost I’m good here, go help Gaz and crew.” Jerking your head in the direction of the main door you opened up the pack to take out a few items.

After a heart beat of silence you glanced up at the tall skull masked man who seemed to be hesitant in moving. Locking eyes with his brown ones you sent him a reassuring nod.

“Be careful.” Was all he said as he disappeared out the kitchen door.

For a stone cold guy he did care a lot about the people he did trust.

You turned your attention back to Soap and examined the blood leaking out of his thigh. Dark red stained his pants and made a very small pool under his leg.

“You’re lucky, you didn’t hit an artery.” Some relief washed over you but the worry still stained your brain. You cared about Soap, probably much more than you should, and you didn’t like seeing him hurt like this. You examined his face and saw it was a little bit paler than normal but not white. “How bad does it hurt?”

“Hells fuckin bells,” he whispered under his breath, “Like I got shot and stabbed. How can ya tell I didn’t get hit in an artery?”

You snorted at his response and pulled out a long blue elastic band and another shorter one. “Your blood would be way lighter than this dark color here. Hold still, I have to cut your pants off.” You grabbed your knife from your shoulder holster.

“Buy me dinner first sweetheart, damn.”

“Shut it dork, just trying to get a better view of the wounds.” You felt a heat creep up your neck and settle on your cheeks as you began to cut a square around the two wounds. You did appreciate the fact he was still cracking a joke even under this stress, made you know he wasn’t loopy from blood loss.

Two holes leaked blood from them, they were about the size of your fingernail and a few inches apart from each other. It didn’t look as bad as you thought it would have. You had to stop the bleeding before you even worried about pain relief. You clasped your knife back in place.

“Move your leg up.” You patted a non bloody part of the outside of his thigh and helped him bend his knee with a whimper of pain from him. “Sorry. You’re gonna be fine, don’t worry John.” You tried to comfort him as you wrapped the blue elastic tourniquet a few inches above the first wound and tied it as tight as you could to stop the blood flow, he winced in pain at the uncomfortable string around his thigh. Setting his leg back straight you grabbed his left arm and pulled it to you.

“How much do you weigh?” You asked as you rummaged in your bag, “Keep your arm out for me.” Setting a sealed syringe on your lap you wrapped the smaller elastic around his bicep and poked his inner elbow for his vein.

You opened a syringe from it’s sterile packaging and grabbed the small bottle of morphine as he told you his weight, and got the proper amount of pain relief in the syringe that would work best for him. Finding a vein was easy and you noticed he turned his head and took in a breath as you poked him, sticking the needle into a blue vein and pressed the plunger.

“You’re going to be in lala land in no time Soap, no more pain for you.” You removed the band from his arm, gave him a little comforting pat on his forearm and smiled at him.

“Good movie. Bloody jesus that shite works fast.” His head lulled back against the glass of the oven as he watched you put away the morphine and toss the syringe across the room into the corner where it couldn’t poke anyone or break. Not the best way to dispose of it but hey what can you do in this moment.

You wanted to tease him on him seeing Lala Land but you held off. “Soap can you lift your shirt to show me where you were stabbed?” You spoke clearly and like how a parent talks to a child to make your words crawl through his ears and reach his foggy drugged brain.

“Doc how copy?” Ghosts voice cut through the air over the radio.

Reaching up you pressed the button to talk, “Soaps out of commission, he’s drugged on morphine and hurt pretty bad. Two shots to the thigh and stabbed in the side. Applying first aid now. How’s it out there?”

“Almost in the main base. At the front door now. No more injuries you need to see to, get soap to safety.”

“Affirmative Lieutenant.” You took in a deep breath, “Captain, requesting medical evac. Soap should be stable enough to wait.”

“Granted.” Price’s voice cut through the radio. “Evac will be ready and out in 5.”

“Thanks cap.” Releasing the button you looked at Soap. “John move your shirt.”

He lifted his arms like they were heavy and moved his black shirt, untucking it from his pants and lifting it up to expose his stomach and rib cage. Your eyes instantly focused on the ripped flesh of the stab wound. The knife caught him just above his hip. It wasn’t deep from what you could tell, must have been a dull blade.

“Hold still.” You went into your backpack again to find a pair of gloves, opening the packaging and putting them on. You shifted to lean closer to him, your finger tips touched his warm skin and he twitched at the contact. You pulled on the flesh to see inside him, and just as you thought it wasn’t deep at all, mostly just looked nastier than it really was with the ripped flesh.

As you grabbed some liquid bandaid and a alcohol wipe from your bag your eyes began to wander over Soaps exposed abdomen. He was toned, the body matching his work, he had abs if he flexed but his body was strong and muscular. What really caught your eye was a small trail of hair running from his belly button down his stomach and disappearing under his belt. Just looking at his happy trail made your mind fumble for a second like you were a school child seeing your crush shirtless for the first time. You’ve seen John shirtless before, being the medic in the unit you were in charge of all physicals, but this was different, he was bloody and he was so close to you. The heat from before made its home on your face once again.

“Like what ya see?” Slurred words came off his tongue like they were heavy. He saw you checking him out. Strike you where you sit your heart couldn���t deal with Soap when he wasn’t hopped up on opioids, now he must not have a filter.

Your hand gave a meek slap to his stomach and he chuckled. You couldn’t ignore the warmth that started to grow in your chest.

You cleaned the area of his stab wound and put the liquid bandage on, making sure the adhesive held and his skin was tight together. Getting gauze you unwrapped the beginning and began to tightly wrap it around his torso, arm going behind his back making you get very close in his personal space which you instantly noticed how close the two of you were now. Your other hand around his front seemed to not grab from the hand wrapped around the small of his back as your head tilted up to look in his eyes. You were practically hugging him. There was something there in the ocean storm of his eyes, an emotion you couldn’t quite place, a softness danced in them, it sent a shiver up your spine. You were inches apart, your face so close to his own you could hear his breathing, it was a little fast. It must be the morphine in his system, that has to be it. You did take notice of how his eyes shifted down to glance at your lips.

“You-“ You started but your voice sounded weak and breathy so you cleared your throat and tried again. “You really need to be more careful sargent.” Speaking seemed to break your trance as you finished wrapping him up, your attention now turning to his gunshot wounds.

“Getting shot in the thigh could have some really bad consequences, there’s major arteries in this area, not to mention the muscle damage and physical therapy you might have to do.” You just began to rant but noticed as you were digging through your hemostat that he hasn’t moved his arms from holding his shirt. “John you can put your shirt down.”

His arms dropped the shirt but it didn’t slide down to cover him thanks to the bandage, meaning you could still see a bit of his stomach poking out and his happy trail.

“N-no exit wounds?” You looked up to meet his eyes.

A shock sparked your system. His eyes held that same emotion, they were glazed over but you’ve seen the way he was looking at you in movies before. The way Flynn Ryder looked at Rapunzel in Tangled at the boat scene, The way Gomez looks at Morticia, the look reserved for a lover. Soft and filled with love like it was bubbling over his heart, silent appreciation and warmth.

“You’ve got pretty eyes.”

Your face exploded with a heat, it tore apart your throat and clawed at your chest. Your heart felt like it stopped beating.

“You’re not getting more morphine MacTavish.”

He laughed. A good belly laugh that soon ended as the stab wound hurt him even through the pain killer.

Morphine. Thats all this is. You can chalk it all up to him being high off his ass right now, there’s no other reason he would look at you that way. No reason.

“Focus MacTavish, is there a hole on the other side of your thigh or not?” You were the one who needed to focus not him.

He shook his head no before he continued to lazily move his head from side to side, his eyes half lidded. Yea it was one hundred percent the morphine in his system this man was as high as a kite.

No exit wound was good and bad at the same time. With where the bullets were placed you didn’t think it would hit his bone, and it didn’t hit any arteries, still he would need a leg splint regardless after you patched him up. The bullets were still inside him. The bleeding had stopped thanks to the elastic and you wiped the blood cleaning the area with a alcohol wipe.

“Yer so kind to me sweetheart. So gentle and caring. Yer a hard ass but yer nice when ya can be.”

You tried to ignore the constant heat on your face as you poked the hemostat through his first wound, pushing through the hole making sure not to touch the meat or fat of the sides before clamping down on the bullet you felt, you must have gone past 12 inches into his muscle, with the size of the entry wound and the depth you guessed it was a 9mm bullet. Yanking it out helped you confirm your thoughts. You did the same for the other wound and dug out the brass from his bloody flesh.

It seems like hours since you first got into this kitchen but in reality only a couple minutes had passed, you worked fast and it was Soaps fault you took longer than normal. You didn’t have the proper tools to commit surgery on the battle field to fully take care of Soaps wounds so the best you could do was apply pressure and wrap his leg as tight as you could, if it was uncomfortable you know you did a good job.

“Evacs ready.” Prices voice cut through your concentration.

“Thanks Price, I’ll get Soap to the evac local.” You took off the bloody gloves and put them in a little red biohazard bag in your backpack.

“Soap you ready to head ou- stop looking at me like that.” He was looking at you with those sparkling eyes again.

“Like wha?”

“Like this is a Disney movie.”

“Can I be the princess then?”

You snorted. “Yes John you can be the princess, I’m gonna have to carry your ass like you are one.”

“Good cuz yer the knight who saved the princess.” He was still slurring his words as you zipped up your backpack and helped him back into his combat vest trying to be mindful of his wounds.

“Kinda sucks you won’t remember this when we get back to base. Wish I could record you calling yourself a princess.” You crouched down next to him after you put your backpack back on, shifting your left shoulder under his armpit and your arm securely holding him to help him get up.

He winced in pain that broke through the morphine as you helped him stand, his arm flew to grab your side to steady himself, weight pressing against you as he stumbled a bit to get used to walking high and on a shot leg.

“I won’t remember anythin?” He whispered.

“Probably not. It’ll be fuzzy and you’ll be in surgery before you could even think to remember.” Your M4 would just have to be left as you began to help John hobble to the door of the kitchen.

“Well, then.” He took in a deep breath. “I think yer pretty. Handsome? Beautiful? Yer attractive.” He tossed around each word like he didn’t know which one suited you better before settling on attractive with a nod of his head.

You couldn’t tell if your face was red from the effort of helping him move or if it was from his compliment. “I think I gave you too much morphine big guy.”

“Nah. Ask me when I ain’t in lala land and I’d say the same thing. I like ya. Yer good to me. I wanna take ya out to dinner after this, as thanks and also because yer-“

“Okay Soap okay, ask me again when you’re not drugged up and bleeding and I might say yes.” A smile crinkled your nose as you laughed at the shit coming out of his mouth.

“Will do.” He weakly patted your back as you began to take him to the helicopter waiting for you two.

[simonrileyyyy]

Simon Riley who fucks your brains out when he sees a man come up to you at a club, constantly reminding you who your pussy belongs to.

Simon Riley who has eyes for you and you only. Every other woman, no matter how beautiful or ugly they are never make his heart beat out of his chest like you do.

Simon Riley who spoils you rotten, getting you anything you even 𝙗𝙖𝙩 an eye at.

Simon Riley who always loves keeping you on his lap whenever he’s drinking his morning cup of tea or doing his boring ass work on his computer.

Simon Riley who can’t even be away from your touch for a second. It’s become a habit, to the extent where he always unconsciously grabs your hand, caresses your thigh while driving, or playing with a strand of your hair.

[midnightarcheress]

husband!Simon helping his wife!reader with her stress <3

cw: nsfw. mdni. fem reader, masturbation, squirting, a lil overstim.

you shuffle through the bag to find the keys to your home, only to drop it the minute you raise it to unlock the door. great. it’s one of those days where everything goes wrong, and you want nothing more than to shut out the world and curl up in bed, silently praying for the next one to be better. 

you pick up the keys from the doormat and swing open the door of your flat, hoping that the familiar scent flooding your lungs will help you ground yourself back to a more serene state. tossing your coat and bag aside, your gaze falls on the tall man quietly reading on the sofa, sweetly mouthing a “welcome back, love.” that you dismiss with a grunt, stomping your way to the bedroom.

‘uh-oh.’ Simon thinks, siren already buzzing and red light blinking in his brain, making him pull up to his feet at god-speed and quickly follow you to your shared room, being met with your clothes scattered around and the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. he promptly puts away your discarded attire and sits on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for you.

you stay in the shower for some good thirty minutes, allowing the water to wash away your stress as you massage your scalp. the weight finally falls from your shoulders and flows down the drain, leaving you alone with the tiredness that’s been brewing in your tense muscles since you stepped out of the house. with a long, weary sigh, you drape the towel around your body and walk out the bathroom, tiny droplets cascading from your hair to your chest, descending on the swell of your breasts and stirring your husband’s cock in his pants.

“gonna tell me wha’ got you so cranky, dove?” he asks with the slightest of teasing, knowing he’s staggering on the thin line of your temper.

“‘m sorry, jus’ a hard day.” you mutter sheepishly, turning to get some well-deserving comfy clothes on the dresser

“c’mere,” you barely have time to react before Simon pulls you by the wrist onto the bed, positioning your body between his legs as he rests on the headboard, “talk to me, lovie.”

his hands brush your arms delicately, fingers running up and down your skin as you start addressing the misfortunes of your day. how a jerk cut you off in traffic, how a client screamed at you on the phone after you explained it wasn’t possible to fulfill his request, how your long awaited sweet treat after lunch fell straight to the floor, how your mother called just to raise hell at you for not visiting enough, how your boss scolded you for a mistake that wasn’t even your fault.

“hm, she said tha’?” he murmurs, massaging the knots on your shoulders and slowly drifting his hands downwards, opening up the lightly damp towel that’s clinging to your frame as you ramble. his rough, calloused skin finds its way to your soft tits, gently kneading the fat while his lips plant small kisses all over your neck.

“i swear that woman’s out to get me, don't know how i haven’t been fired yet.”

“she knows tha’ place would fall apart without ya, doll. you’re the only one with a brain there,” he coos sweetly in your ear, fingers traveling down your stomach and reaching your mound, making your breath hitch in your throat. Simon smirks at your reaction, feeling your head tipping back to rest on his shoulder and your still wet hair soaking his shirt, “let me help you decompress, eh?”

you, too tired to resist the offer, let him spread your legs with ease, compliant to the touch of your loving husband. his middle finger smears the hasty arousal leaking from your cunt through your slit, softly caressing your folds as you melt into his arms. “so wet f’me, love.” he chuckles, slightly rubbing your clit as you hum.

his moves are tame, gradually pooling the warmth in your belly, taking his time to shape your tension until it’s the right moment to set you free. his finger toys with your entrance before sliding in, feeling the familiar walls of your cunt clenching around it, causing you to breathe heavily at just the beginning.

“you like tha’?” he whispers, introducing another finger on your tight hole as you turn to bury your face on his neck, mewling with pleasure and pain while he stretches you, digits hitting all the right spots. by the time he speeds up the thrusting, your moans are erratic, gasped, barely leaving your throat as you grasp his forearm in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, even with your brain reaching the fucked-out point by a simple touch.

his thumb lazily strokes your swollen nub as he continues to be knuckles-deep inside of your velvety walls, curling his fingers just enough to earn a squeal out of you. the coil on your lower stomach tightens, fibers threatening to snap at any second as Simon murmurs sugary praises in your ears whilst nipping the skin where your neck meets your shoulder, the love bite’s stings only intensifying the pleasure coursing through your bloodstream.

“Simon, ’m gonna-” you don’t even have the energy to complete your sentence before your juices flood on his hand, the god’s nectar gushing from your pussy and dripping from his wrist onto the long forgotten towel, as he bullies your clit to overstimulation. you cry out his name like a prayer, begging whatever higher power out in the universe to let you keep that sensation forever.

“looks like someone really needed tha’,” he laughs and you feel the deep rumbling from his chest on your naked back, only driving you closer to the edge as your legs convulse at the overwhelming thrill of your nervous system. your frantic moans echo in the room when Simon raises his free hand to your nipple, rolling the hardened tip between his thumb and index, painting twinkling stars in the ceiling, the scintillation being too much to keep your vision clear. “think ya got another one f’me, princess?” 

he doesn’t wait for your answer; he knows how to treat his precious wife and can cite by heart the prescription to get you to sleep better than any pill would. tears prickle in the corner of your eyes when he starts again, just barely giving you time to recover from the near out-of-body experience. 

his new rhythm is harsh, pulling your thighs - fully covered in slick and arousal - over his to keep you spread open, and fiercely pounding two digits inside you. you squirm and press yourself harder against his broad chest, babbling incoherently as he pumps his thick and scarred fingers somehow even deeper than before. 

“Si, ‘s too much, i can’t-” you choke out, streams rolling down your cheeks as he builds another orgasm out of you. half-lidded eyes meet his hazel irises in a lustful gaze, pleading in agony for another release before your body gives out.

it doesn’t take much before a jolt of electricity tingle beneath your skin and makes you cum, getting you blissfully drunk by finger-fucking only while your peak ripple through your core. your hands sternly grip on the sheets under your limp body, the frenzy running its way through every corner of your being, clouding your vision and leaving you in a divine peaceful haze.

your limbs twitch slightly as you come down from your high, Simon holding you tight in his burly arms and pressing kisses on your pretty face. “you did so good, lovie,” he praises, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your belly, “could’ve given ya s’much more but your eyes are so droopy already,” his quiet laugh almost lull you to sleep right there and then, “feeling better?”

you nod, eyes tempting to close as the fatigue washes over you, weariness creeping up your mind after a hell of a day and a celestial end to it. “thank you, Si.” you mumble with nothing but affection in your voice, utterly elated by the sight of your devoted husband cradling you. 

“anything for ya, my wife.”

just a little something i thought of while procrastinating my other works lol

[saksukei]

subtle things simon ‘ghost’ riley does for you

masterlist | simon has a crush on you | captain john price version

everybody on the base is aware of one thing. first – to not mess with the skull masked lieutenant. second – to not mess with the skull masked lieutenant’s favorite. it's clear that simon has taken a liking to you, but he disguises it well enough for it to sweep under your radar.

just knowing eye stares. god. he's such a sucker for just staring at you, be it when you guys are training, when there's a meeting going on, in the barracks, when somebody says something stupid. he looks to you as a form of reassurance, giving you a slight nod most of the time. this is his way to communicate. he's thankful for his mask because he knows damn well he's blushing underneath when his eyes meet yours and you give him a big grin.

speaking of eye contact, if any time ghost says something sarcastic under his breath and you hear it despite being across the room, he will absolutely wink at you. it's disguised so so well omg. especially if you mention something that's a known joke between the two of you, god he’ll just lean back, give you a wink and continue listening to the briefing. (he also subtly checks you out by the way)

has a habit of just messing your hair. he knows it irritates you, but that's just his way of showing affection. the first time he reached out his gloved hand to mess your hair, price just grinned. he knew simon was smitten.

he lets you ramble on and on about things you like, dislike, philosophical debates, anything really, with him occasionally adding quips. soap is so shocked at simon’s change of attitude because when he talks for a minute, the lieutenant just asks him to shut up.

he secretly makes things easy for you. like you gotta carry big boxes to the warehouse? they’ll be done before you know it. a report is holding you up? it's already stapled and on your desk. “what else?” he asks. he's terribly intuitive as well, so he knows when something is bothering you.

has a habit of just standing behind you. that's his way of looking out for you. and if he senses any danger, you best believe he's gonna be on his A game. be it a sniper or be it some new private that made a suggestive remark, he’ll put them straight.

he's your biggest supporter except he's constipated in actually supporting. you did pretty well on a mission? most you’re getting out of him is “you did good, yeah?” but that's it.

he's also so so smug with his remarks. i’m talking constant shit eating grins, smirks, fucking irritating cocky behavior but he’s so hot with it. “you think you can take on me?” even with his mask on, u can just tell!! “oh yeah? c'mere and prove me wrong”

fucking simp enjoys training with you soooo much like especially the ‘first one to get pinned loses’ he puts you down so easily. but then he coaches you as well “c’mon you can fight better than this” as he points out other techniques to use. “atta girl” (i’m gonna kms). always the person to challenge you and push you to your limits because he's not taking a risk when it comes to your life.

[temeyes]

with all the tasty ghost belly on my feed, all i can think about is this,,,

[yawnderu]

cr: @ave661

Simon wasn't a stupid man. He always knew better, knew to look between the lines even when you tried your best to be deceiving. Even then, the pure rejection you showed to your newborn baby was something not even the best actress could hide. Refusing to hold her after she was born and fully shutting down on Simon, screaming at him whenever he tried to offer any sort of help and support, only getting worse if he ever tried to approach you while holding the baby.

Post-partum depression is no joke, Simon realized after doing his own research, only then realizing just how bad it can get after accidentally stumbling on article upon article of mothers getting to the point of harming their own child. You weren't like that— Simon liked to convince himself despite the growing pit of dread in his stomach, anxiety seeping out of every pore of his body when even months later you refused to hold or interact with the baby.

It all came crashing down after he came back from deployment, the nanny holding his daughter while soothing her with calm words, doing her best to console the crying infant despite the tears falling down her cheeks when she confessed to him that you're gone.

Gone without a trace, at first. Simon wasted no time using his connections to know where you were. Laswell was the most helpful, giving him all the details of the help center you were in, yet even then, Simon didn't reach out first in fear of messing up your progress, not wanting to add more stress to your situation when you were trying to get better.

Four years. For four years, Simon's life was divided in deployments and taking care of his daughter at home, never once thinking about moving on, always asking Laswell for updates— updates she was glad to give him using her own connections, wanting to give Simon some peace of mind even if it went against the rules.

“It's okay.” Simon reassured his daughter, his long sleeves wet with cola that she spilled from her little cup. His home was the complete opposite of the absolute hell he grew up in, not allowing himself to scream, hit, or take out his frustration on the little carbon copy of himself sitting on the couch.

“'M sorry, daddy.” Her sweet voice made the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head, taking off his sweater and putting it away, wasting no time on grabbing a towel to clean up the now sticky mess of coke on the table.

“It's okay, love. Jus' don't tip it, 's gonna spill.” She gave him a small salute in understanding, a cheeky grin on her lips when she saw him holding in his laughter, knowing fully well she's copying him— as usual.

The doorbell ringing got Simon's full attention, giving his daughter one last look before he went to answer. His eyes widened slightly the moment he saw your shorter figure waiting for him, purposely making yourself smaller like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, a small folder held in your hands. You're both quiet for what seems like forever, the only sounds coming from your daughter in the living room, the TV displaying a kid's show Simon put on.

“I'm so so—” You don't even have the chance to finish your sentence before you're being pulled into a tight hug, Simon's burly arms wrapping around your body, every single second spent missing you, secretly hoping you'd come back one day crashes down on him the moment he feels your arms wrap around his waist, holding him as tight as possible, as if he'd disappear if you don't hold onto him for dear life.

“I got better.” You whisper into his ear, rubbing his back soothingly when he doesn't let go of you. Not yet— not when the love of his life is finally back after years. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder before his face goes back to burying in the crook of your neck, taking in the familiar scent.

It takes minutes for Simon to finally let go, hesitation clear in his actions as he looked down at you, keeping one hand on your waist in silent fear of you seeping through his fingers. The folder in your hand gets his attention, giving you a questioning look before you offer it to him, managing to give him a small smile of reassurance despite all the anxiety and fear.

“My psychotherapist wrote it. It's... just a paper that shows the progress I've made from her perspective.” You stand awkwardly as he reads the document, taking in every single word written by the woman who has been helping your for four long years. You can hear your daughter giggling at the TV show, only making the anxiety in your stomach grow more by the second.

To your surprise, Simon steps out of the way to allow you into the home he created, his safe haven. Nothing changed from the last time you were here, other than toys scattered all over the place, likely from Simon being too busy bonding with his daughter to even clean.

You can see the little girl sitting on the couch as you walk closer, her brown eyes fully focused on the screen until she hears something from behind her. She's so much bigger now, looking like a tiny carbon copy of Simon, down to the little skull-patterned pajamas she was wearing.

She turns around after seeing you from the corner of her eye, her little face lighting up into a toothy grin as she jumps from the couch, sprinting towards you as fast as her little legs allow her to.

“Mommy!” You crouch down to her height out of pure instinct, almost being knocked off balance when she crashes into you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck. The fact that Simon never stopped talking about you to her and kept your pictures warms your heart, being as delicate as possible as you hug her back.

“Y'look so pretty.” She has Simon's accent, making you let out a small laugh before looking down at her, cupping her cheek just to examine her features better.

“Thank you, sweet girl.” You're glad for the way she cuddles up to you again, not bothering to hide the tears falling down your cheeks at the sheer love displayed by the same girl you left four years ago. Your gaze drifts up to Simon, whose eyes are glossier than usual despite the fact that he's not shedding a tear. He gives you a small nod in acknowledgement, not daring to look away from the heartwarming scene in front of him.

“Daddy talks a lot about you.” She whispers into your ear, covering her mouth as if she's telling you the biggest secret ever. You giggle at the little gossiper, your warm hand running up and down the length of her hair.

“He does?” You whisper back, giving Simon a cheeky look at the admission, one of his thin eyebrows raising when he sees your daughter nod her head vigorously, giggling as she looks at Simon.

“Well, I'm sure he talks a lot about you too.” The pure forgiveness that comes from both of them drowns the guilt, if only for a short while.

“You're such a pretty princess.” Your arms wrap around her again, rocking her softly from side to side, allowing yourself to take in their love. It doesn't take long for Simon's resolve to falter, dropping to his knees and wrapping his burly arms around his girls protectively, planting a little kiss on your forehead.

Despite everything, there's no one else he'd rather spend the rest of his life with.

Dad!Ghost Masterlist

[rileyslibrary]

Okay okay but hear me out- reader gets assigned on their first solo mission by Price and Ghost is inwardly concerned for them and keeps subtly giving tips to reader about the basics of any mission as way to prepare them

Hi, anon and thank you for requesting this! I made some minor adjustments to the original idea since I got lost in the process once I began writing. Reader is also fully aware of Ghost’s concerns and messes with him.

Fluffy, the usual banter, an emotionally constipated Ghost, yada yada. Enjoy!

———————————————————————

“Again,” Ghost murmurs as he shuffles through the row of tactical knives on the table. He decides on one, picks it up and walks towards you. “What is this?” He asks.

You look up from tying the laces of your boots and redirect your attention at him. He either believes you’re an idiot or doesn’t trust you enough. Either way, it’s not a good sign.

“Good question, Lieutenant,” you reply. “What you’re holding in your hands is a knife. Knives were one of the earliest tools used by humanity to-”

“Cut it out.”

“That’s correct!” you exclaim. “You mainly use one of those to cut stuff.”

A long sigh escapes him, and he throws his head up. He lowers the knife and walks towards the table, scratching the back of his balaclava with the other hand. He takes a few breaths, turns around and lifts the knife again.

“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.” He growls. “What kind of knife is it?”

“A sharp one.”

“Stop it.”

“You mean stab it?” you ask and continue tying your laces. “Yes. Yes, you can definitely stab with it.”

He throws the knife onto the table and leans on a chair, holding it with both hands. His brows are tied together, and you can see his jaw tightening beneath the balaclava.

“I need you to focus.” He says firmly. “This is not the right time for jokes.”

You stand up and walk towards him, now standing by his side. You grab his shoulder and squeeze it. He doesn’t budge, yet he slowly shakes his head.

“You’re worried.” You state.

“I’m not worried.” He replies. “I don’t know what Price was thinking; the stakes are too high for this to be your first solo mission.”

“So you don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.” He says and lets go of the chair. “It’s just too dangerous for you to go alone.”

“So you are worried.” You whisper with a smirk.

He looks at you with the side of his eye and picks up a map from the table. He spreads it out in front of him.

“Alright,” he says, “let’s go over the route again.”

“Got it,” you nod. “So, what’s the plan?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the plan?’” He shouts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “We’ve been through this-”

“-a hundred times now.” You interrupt. “Yet you still want to go over it again and again and again and again.”

“I just need you to be ready.”

“I am ready!”

“Then go on,” he says, pushing the map towards you, “what’s the plan?”

“Alright,” you begin, pointing to a door on the eastern side of the facility. “I’ll start here, at the service entrance. It’s not heavily guarded since they mainly use it for their occasional smoke breaks.”

“But you’ll still need to be cautious,” He adds.

You ignore his remark and continue to outline the route.

“From there,” you say, moving your finger along a series of corridors, “I’ll make my way through the maintenance tunnels. They’re narrow and dark but should provide good cover from security patrols.”

“And when you reach the central hub,” Ghost continues, pointing to a large room at the heart of the facility, “you’ll need to be especially careful since that’s where the security is the tightest. There’s only one entry point, so once you get to this door you should-”

“Knock.”

He slowly turns towards you and gives you a side-eye. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he whispers.

“On the contrary, Lieutenant,” you jest. “I’m deadly serious.”

“Deadly serious?” he scoffs and shakes his head. “You might end up seriously dead if you don’t pay attention.”

You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.

“When I get close to that door,” you say, pointing at the map, “I’ll wait for Soap and Gaz to manipulate the security systems and set off the alarms. Once the commotion is at its highest, I’ll infiltrate the hub, collect the intel, and escape through the ventilation shafts.”

“Right,” he says and folds the map. “Do you have everything you need?”

You turn your attention to yourself, checking your tactical vest, and he does the same. His eyes scan over every piece of equipment on you. He walks around you, tracing his fingers along the edges of your gear, checking for any signs of damage. He reaches out to adjust a loose strap on your vest, ensuring it’s securely fastened.

“You need to make sure everything is secure,” he says as he continues to search each pocket and pouch on you, ensuring that your supplies are well-stocked and easily accessible. “We can’t risk losing any essential gear during the mission.”

You follow him with your eyes and smirk as he inspects you. “Is that what worries you?” You ask. “Losing gear?”

He pauses for a second and meets your eyes. “You know what I mean,” he says as he tightens a buckle on your waist. He takes a few steps back and nods. “Everything looks good,” he concludes.

“Alright,” you nod back and walk towards the door. “Let’s do this.”

“Stay sharp out there!” he shouts.

“Yeah, yeah,” You shout back as you exit the briefing room, “sharp like a knife!”

———————————————————————

[m0chac0ffee]

"What are you doing?"

"Coloring in your tattoo sleeve."

"I know, but... why?"

"Because I want to."

Simon scoffed playfully as he moved his arm closer so you had easier access to his entire sleeve, and willingly turned his arm whenever you needed him to.

"'M done!"

"Very colorful..."

"Yeah, you like it?"

He nodded his head. But he didn't just like it, he absolutely loved it.

[lycheedr3ams]

MDNI

if you haven’t listened to this NSFW konig audio, do it now………… 😳

HIS MOANing

WHEN HE CALLS ME A GUTES MÄDCHEN

(Meme made by me)

The fact I’m posting about this with a straight face while in the doctors office lobby (dw no one can see my phone)

https://href.li/?https://soundgasm.net/u/wagnerfirst/M4F-Bilingual-Fun-with-Your-German-Boyfriend-BFE-Cunnilingus-Ass-play-Vaginal-Sex-Creampie-Dirty-talk-a-little-Teasing-and-Teaching-You-Words-Kissing-Mouth-Sounds-Moaning-Laughing-Stereo-Audio-2615

[imaginesheaven]

Pilot!Reader x TF 141

Friendship Headcanons

Warnings: cursing

Words spread like fire about your amazing skills in the air. Every team that got assigned to you and your helicopter comes back home safe and sound.

Captain Price demands your transfer to his team after you had the honor to do a mission with the Task Force 141. He only chooses the best of the best to work with.

“John! You can’t demand every good soldier I have for your team.” – “Laswell, I can and I will~”

Needless to say, but Laswell is more than pissed since you are one of the best pilots if not the best pilot on the base, but Price always get what he wants.

With your quite sassy and funny demeanor you win the hearts of the tough men rather quickly.

“Dear Task Force 141, this is your pilot speaking. If you look to the right side of the helicopter you can see Eagle 3 challenging us to a race. So, please keep seated and hold on for dear life because shit is about to get real~”

The team making bets between you and the other pilot of Eagle 3. In the end, you always win.

At first the team makes fun of you naming your helicopter Valkyrie, but after a little nosedive after a hard mission they stop very quickly. They really made the mistake of underestimating you and your helicopter.

Valkyrie actually was ready to be dropped out from the military due to old age. It was love on first sight for you. It took weeks to convince Laswell but, in the end, you got the old birdy and brought her back to her glory. It came in handy that you are literally blessed with a mechanic soul.

In your free time you love to try out new things to improve Valkyrie for the next mission. Gaz really wants to help every time, but ends up standing in the way most of the time.

“Can you give me the screwdriver for the Fillister Head screws?” – “Uh…. this one?” – “Nope, there most be another one.” – “This one?” – “… You know, Gaz, the windows are in need for a good cleaning. Could you do that for me?”

You hit him with the puppy eyes and Gaz goes to clean the windows like you asked. In the end he is just happy to be there with you :)

Soap is really fascinated with the weapons Valkyrie carries for the missions. You always take your time to explain and show him everything. Here and there he is also allowed to help you out during missions to kill a few of the enemies. That makes him literally so happy like a little boy in the candy shop.

Nevertheless, you use every single chance to mess with Soap. Sometimes Price joins you just for the fun of it.

“Get away from my baby, Soap.” – “I’m not doing anything!” – “You are way too close and I don’t like how you look at her.” – “What the hell?” – “Do what (Y/N) says, Soap!” – “But, Captain!” – “No buts.”

Gaz and Ghost know exactly what is going on and try to hold in their snickering.

With you there is literally not a single dull moment before, during and after missions. The boys love and life for those moments.

Once you left behind one of the soldiers because he got on your nerves before take-off.

“Eagle 2, where are you going?” – “Uh, Urzikstan.” – “You forgot one of the soldiers. He’s banging on the window here.” – “Yeah, we kind of had a fight and he’s an asshole so I kind of had to kick him out. I’m sure Eagle 3 has enough space for him.” – “Eagle 2, you can’t do that. Cancel takeoff clearance!” – “Oops, I accidentally put the throttles to TO/GA. See you later alligator~”

Or the other time on the way back to the base.

„Watcher 1, we request medical at the gate. Uh, we beat up another stowaway…” – “Eagle 2… YOU DID WHAT?!” – “Uh… yeah, we found him halfway back to base and he refused to leave the helicopter so we beat him up and tied him like a present gift on Christmas morning…” – “I am not dealing with this! Land like always and contact ground for medical aid.”

To Laswell’s displeasure you take your sweet time after missions to come back to the base. Here and there you make a little stop at the next fast-food chain.

“I think the drive-through will not do it. Someone has to go out and order at the counter…”

Those encounters with Laswell over the comm create a quite close bond between the two of you over the time.

“Look, who’s back!” – “Don’t even say it, Watcher 1.” – “You were supposed to land five hours ago?!” – “You should be happy we came here at all~” – “How about you land on time for once. That’ll make me happy.” – “We got burgers. Do you want one?” – “YOU GOT WHAT, EAGLE 2?!” – “Burgers…” – “… You will be the death of me … Get them over here fast, Eagle 2.”

Of course, Kate would never admit it out loud that you are her favorite pilot.

“Oh, Eagle 2!” – “Shut up and let me concentrate!” – “Five hours late again. At least butter this landing.” – “We are not Eagle 3. At least we know how to land.” – “Let’s learn how to come in on time next… Did you secure the goods?” – “Sure, Watcher 1. Your usual order coming right to you~”

Captain Price lost count how often you saved their lives with Valkyrie. They trust you blind and know you would do anything to bring them back home. But during one special mission you show how the team really mean to you.

“(Y/N)! We need air support! We can’t get to the evac point!”, the team needs your help, but you ran out of ammo a few minutes ago. You know exactly that they won’t make it without your help. This is the hardest and easiest decision at the same time you have to make.

“It was a good time we had together, Valkyrie”, you say your goodbye to the helicopter before you let crash your baby into the pack of enemies.

“NO! (Y/N)!”, the men are devastated to see Valkyrie go down knowing exactly you must be in the helicopter. Their hearts shatter. They couldn’t save you.

“Boys, come on! We need to be at the evac point in five minutes. Eagle 3 will get us!”, you stumble around the house corner quite out of breath. “You are alive!”, they can’t believe their eyes.

“Not much longer!”, you grab the first one by the hand to drag them into the direction where Eagle 3 will collect you. Once in the helicopter you are all safe and sound for now and on the way back to the base.

“(Y/N) … you crashed Valkyrie … for us?”, Gaz looks at you with his big puppy eyes. You only shrug with your shoulder not trying to think about the helicopter trashed into thousand pieces, “I really don’t want to talk about her.”

It might sound strange, but you are mourning Valkyrie like the helicopter would have been a real soldier. You had spent so much time with her. She was part of your family.

Of course, the team would make it up to you as good as they can. So, one day Gaz comes up to you with a blindfold, “Put it on.” You shake your head immediately, “Not for anything in this world.”

He defeats you with your own weapons. The puppy eyes. You put the blindfold on and get dragged over the whole base until you lose track of where you are actually going. “Oh my god, Gaz! I’m getting really sick.”

“TADA!”, he pulls down the blindfold. For a second you were blinded from the sunshine, but then it hits you. “We can’t give you Valkyrie back, but how about Valkyrie II!”, Soap exclaims pointing at the new helicopter. The whole team looks so damn proud of themselves for gifting you an even better helicopter.

“Thank you, boys. You are too sweet”, you get wrapped up in a big bear hug. “So, you know, Laswell doesn’t want you to know she gave us the money to purchase the new helicopter”, Price tells you with a smile on his lips.

“I chose the interior of the helicopter and the color!”, Gaz exclaims and points at Valkyrie II.

“I was responsible for the weapons! I can show you everything!”, Soap adds.

“I coordinated everything”, Price shrugs his shoulders.

You look at Ghost. He holds up an air freshener, “I want it to smell good.”

[eilidh-eternal]

Nasty Man™️ Johnny MacTavish is a jealous mf and he does not know how to handle it, like at all.

“I licked it, it’s mine,” but with your pretty cunt. In front of the whole team. Doesn’t want to share, just needs everyone to know without a shadow of a doubt that he did, in fact, lick it no one ever even questioned this, he’s just fucking insane.

You are not allowed anywhere near Gaz, even if he’s there with you. He knows Gaz is a smooth talker with a pretty face, sunshine and rainbows personality. When you all went out to the bar and he found you dancing with Gaz while he was getting drinks for everyone? Your ass was glued to the sticky faux leather of the booth for the rest of the night, made so by your own arousal. Humiliate him in public? You get the same treatment. “If ye want somethin’ t’ grind on so bad, it’s gonnae be my hand,” he growls, big hand cupping your cunt and the heel of his palm pressing hard against your clit beneath the table until you come.

It gets really bad around Price. He’s such a gentleman, always holding doors open for you, grabbing that mug from the top shelf in the kitchenette for you, makes a plate for you and then himself when you visit them on base. Johnny makes you sit in his lap and eat directly from his hand, makes you lick his fingers clean and suck on them for good measure. You’re not getting up until the plate Price made you is empty, until you’ve learned that Price may be a Nice Guy, but it’s Johnny who feeds and fucks you, just the way you like.

Ghost brings out a different sort of jealousy in Johnny. He sees the way you stare, knows that you’re curious about the massive Lieutenant with the mask. He wears the balaclava the rest of ghost team wore in Las Almas while he fucks you, bends you over the table in the briefing room and records you screaming his name. Makes you look right at the camera when you come on his cock. “When ye look at him, ye think of me. He cannae fuck ye like I can. Nothin’ special ‘bout his mask or his cock,” he sneers, and then he sends the video to Ghost.

Nasty Man™️ Masterlist

[harpsinfinity]

Size difference

König X fem!reader

Warnings:smut, badly translated German

König always loved how you were so much smaller than him, a beast of a husband compared to a small thing like you. It never fails to amaze him with the difference in size when you compare hands, or how he can just pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like your weightless. The size difference between you, knowing how easily he could hurt you with his strength, made him treat you as if you were a piece of priceless glass. He'd almost never let you give him head, he'd be worried about you choking with how big he is :(( he'd settle for you jerking him off though, even if you had to use both of your hands to fully wrap around his cock. The way his hands would almost fully cover your hips or waist as he pounded into you made your walls clamp around him. He loves to watch a small bulge form in your tummy when he was fully in, knowing he could see how deep he was inside you made his cock twitch more. Watching you gasp and your eyes roll back as he lightly presses down on the bulge, pushing against your sweet spot. You'd feel so fully when he was inside you, slamming into you at a furious pace, that he had tried to control, but with the way you were practically sucking him in he couldn't hold back. The mewls and sweet sounds would pull from you with every thrust inside of you, clinging to könig like he was a lifeline "so small under me, Mein liebling" he'd growl between heavy pants, feeling you tighten around him as you both were so so close. "K-köni ! So full !" You whine, one last slam sending both of you off the edge. Whimpering when you felt his hot cum rush inside of you, with your own drenching his cock. After he'd hold you close, practically smothering you in his chest.

You've never loved your big brute of a husband more.

[lundenloves]

fatherhood II

*Standing on a soap box, pointing at every one of you.* I will not be responsible for the tears passed in this piece of written emotional catastrophe. It simply had to be done. Simon meeting his daughter for the first time. It's canon. Leave me alone! *Runs away*

↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.2k

part one | dad!simon masterlist

i may as well be running from lions at this rate, i cannot believe this. yes i can. no one talk to me or ask me the colour of anything for at least twelve days. sigh.

Having a baby sleeping on his chest was not on Simon Riley’s bingo cards for this year. His own baby at that.

Ironically, it was like learning to walk all over again. Having a little person who was completely dependent on you was something he couldn’t fathom at all until the time came. And boy, did it come, straight to the deep end he was.

It started when he was stood on the doorstep to his own home, two days late, taking deep breaths and roughing his hair in attempts to alleviate the bubbling anxiety. He was mentally beating himself up for the fucking career he’d chosen, and the hardships that came with time. Time he wouldn’t get back.

“Fuck sake, Simon.” Came a mutter to himself, slapping one hand of motivation to his cheek before reaching to turn the handle. Baby cries were audible from outside, his jaw tightening at the sound. He hadn’t been home in two weeks. Many an argument had passed to get time off although it just simply wasn’t an option. Forcing his wife to give birth alone bar her family. Christ.

He stepped into the house quietly, as if subconsciously on a fucking stakeout. A shaky sigh came when he’d leant against the wall, dropping his bag and shutting the door behind him.

It was a lot and he hadn’t even met her yet.

His daughter.

A rush of guilt panged in his chest and forced the steps he took toward the living-room. His broad shoulders filled the doorframe, in complete contrast to the tiny baby who lay in your arms.

His cold heart attempted to ignite a spark at the sight, kickstarting a warmth that didn’t quite come. Not until you had caught sight of him and instantaneously teared up. It was like all hell had broken loose in his chest, experiencing emotions he hadn’t felt in years. Still, he couldn’t speak, nor move.

You brought her to him, standing up and pressing your forehead against his chest. “You don’t need to say anything.” He nodded quietly, looking down at the baby in your arms. The inner corners of his eyebrows had raised, jaw tensing and loosening between seconds.

You could practically see the thoughts race through his mind. Good and bad.

“Stop worrying, you’re home now.” His shirt had a central wet patch from your silent tears.

You weren’t going to tell him how it was hell, how awful it was that he wasn’t around, and just how much you cried the night you got home with her. Welcomed by an empty house and darkness.

“Simon.” You said weakly, looking up at him and catching the gloss of his dark eyes. He was just as devastated about the whole thing. “Don’t think about it. It’s over. We have her, she’s safe, I'm safe.”

He nodded slowly, eyes unmoved from the baby below him. “Do you want to hold her?” Your voice came as a whisper, aware of his anxieties.

“I don’t know how.” He cleared his throat, looking back up to you. The hardness in his eyes was still there, although exposed by the sheen of upset that threatened to spill. You’d never seen him cry. Not once in the seven years of being together.

You smiled a little at him, a quivering one at best. “You just have to support her head.” Your arms lifted toward his, lightly adjusting his positions before handing your daughter toward her father.

And fuck, did it hit you then.

Stepping back, you made an effort to mentally photograph the scene in front of you. His eyes cast down to the baby in his arms, holding her as if she could break any second. The large palm of his hand was bigger than her whole body, supporting her with his arm although she barely used a forearm's worth of space. Her little hands raised upward, entirely relaxed in his arms as opposed to the crying he had walked in on.

His energy had entirely calmed her down.

“How do you feel?” You sucked your lips inward, both hands on your head to calm the maddening amount of emotion running through your stomach.

His eyes remained fixed on his daughter, still frozen in the position you had put him in. “I don’t know.” He admitted, voice as deep as ever although it had a strain to it.

You nodded. “That’s okay.”

The two of you shared a silence for a minute or two, just entirely in the moment for your daughter and the small babbles she made every now and then. The only consistent sound was her breathing, only audible for the dead silence in the house.

He shifted, “Are you alright?”

You rubbed your arm, looking up at him to find his eyes already on yours. “Mhm.” It was the truth, although he was evidently searching for a different answer. “Just glad you’re home.”

“Have you slept much?”

“Not really. But that’s okay.” The sweet tone of your voice made his shoulders drop, arms relax and his eyes soften. Well, until the baby began to cry and he tensed up all over again, silently panicking while looking to you. “Relax, Si.”

He screwed his face, letting her small hand curl weakly around his finger in hopes she would stop crying. “She’s fine. You’re fine.” A warm laugh escapes you and a slight smile plays on his lips at the sound. “She’s just tired.”

He pushed his arms toward you, gesturing you take her back. He was tired. You could see it in his eyes, “She’s still crying.”

“I couldn’t hear that.” You quip and he tsks, holding his arms out a little further. “Sit with her, it’ll be easier on your arms.” It was a thing for you, wanting him to have her in his arms as often as he could and not scare himself away.

He gave you a predictably unsure look before moving to the sofa. Each step he took was cautious to not stir her even further, sitting down slowly. You leant against the dining table, looking at him from across the room as he mumbled words you couldn’t hear to the baby in his arms.

When he had relaxed, she too calmed down. The steady breathing of his chest created a rise and fall that drifted her to sleep, small fingers still wrapped around his the best they could.

“Are you alright if I shower?”

He looked up in your direction, a flash of a panic appeared across his features. “What do I do if she wakes up?” His glance directed back down to the unthreatening baby in his arms.

“Just talk to her, like you just did.” You walked over, leaning down over the back of the sofa to press a kiss to his cheek. “I know it’s hard, but don’t think about it too much.” Hands placed on his shoulders, massaging into his collarbones.

He hummed in response.

“I’ll be ten minutes.”

Simon only lasted three. Three minutes of staring down at his daughter, alone and full of emotion for her but it wasn’t willing to come out just yet. Fatigue had taken over and by the time you had gotten back, ready to put her down for the night, she was already deep in sleep along with her father.

She was on his chest, arm raised upward to his neck where her tiny fingers touched his skin. His head tilted to the back of the sofa, two hands supporting her while soft snores left him.

Fatherhood.

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pats me on the head every now and then.

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[saksukei]

simon ‘ghost’ riley has a crush on you

masterlist | subtle things he does for you | simon my love

simon’s feelings hit him like a truck, as if he's a deer caught in the headlights. he only comes to realize it in the heat of the battle, chests heaving up and down as the two of you hide behind a wall for cover. you tell him to reload first and it's something so insignificant, so minute and yet it pieces things together for him. so he does what his first best. swallow the lump in his neck, ignore the swelling of his heart and focus on what’s next.

except

he sucks at it and boy is it evident.

it is so subtle though, subtle enough for it to slip under everyone’s radars including yours. except, captain price is no fool. he's known simon long enough to see the little change in his demeanor when you enter the room. how simon immediately sits up right, in his best posture, giving you a firm nod of acknowledgment.

how simon always looks your way, always. even when you’re not looking, he’ll still check what you're doing, where you are. it’s not intended to be creepy, it's just a form of reassurance that you’re alive, that you’re okay, that he has another chance to confess. (also the type to lean against the door frame and observe you)

what’s shocking is that even during his infamous cigarette breaks, he chooses to hang out with you. he adores the fact that it’s comfortable silence between the two of you. and more importantly, it contains the two best things he needs, silence and you. “what a view” he thinks to himself.

moreso, the lieutenant’s eye for detail is insane. simon is incredibly nuanced, he can notice when your mood is off, when you’re hurt, irritated or whatsoever. he tries to deal with the issue silently, like handing you a bottle of water, leaving a seat for you beside him, ensuring that he does most of the paper work and so on.

simon reacts at the speed of lightning if he notices you’re hurt or in range of fire. he remembers the one time he ran, grabbing you by the waist to make sure you don’t get shot. your small frame clinging against his, your body weight almost nothing to him and he felt lightheaded. he desperately wanted to keep you in his arms but he settles for asking, “you holdin’ up fine?” as he lets you out of his grip.

he enjoys bantering with you so much. such snide and snarky remarks all the time. from “what? can’t handle a little teasing from your superiors?” to “you know it's bad manners cussing behind your lieutenant’s back,” to “thought you were tough?” to “all that back talk, why don't you come and prove it?” he absolutely loves the reactions you give him.

moreso, when he begins getting more and more comfortable, he invites you eat lunch with him as opposed to with the rest of the soldiers. adores the fact that you both can converse without having eyes on the two of you. “plans for lunch?”

oh and of course, the most difficult moment of his life, when you reached forward on your tippy toes to fix his balaclava, simon thought he’d have a heart attack. took all of his strength to not lean forward and press a kiss to your forehead. “looking alright now?” he jokes, you can almost hear his smirk.

he hates the vulnerability, he does. but what he doesn't hate is the fact that it's you. it's you he’s being vulnerable with. and he repeats it to himself every night that you’re the best choice anyway.

[temeyes]

i'm still a little unwell about bikerdad!Ghost,,,,,