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#cod mwiii x reader
cas-backwards-tie · 3 months
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Under The Moonlight
Vladimir Makarov x Reader
Summary: You think the Commander hates your taste in music. Why is he so judgmental about what you listen to in your free time? Turns out... maybe you were caught up on the wrong thing.
Words: 2.3k
Warnings: (Vlad should probably be a warning in of itself), Passive-Aggressiveness? , Spying, Grabbing,
A/N: Ugh... I love (and hate) this song bc it gets stuck in my head so easily and it gives me such fantasy vibes. I can't help but imagine wedding vibes and him with this song every listen. btw put two diff versions in links bc those are 2/3 that I have and listen to.
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"You know Arabic?" He'd asked. The first time he'd stumbled upon you listening to the song, more than curious when you'd also been singing along. With a shake of your head and a slight smile of embarrassment simultaneously dusting your cheeks with blush, this only makes his eyebrows furrow. "Then how do you know the words?"
The laugh that tumbles past your lips does nothing but further turn up the heat on the already boiling frustration and inconsequential meltdown that will no doubt later take place. "By listening to it," you answer, an inkling of a smile returning in spite of his fury, "over, and over... and over again."
With an annoyed puff of breath you know he's done with you, about to make his leave. "Why?" You ask. For once, you've swapped places as your curious eyes seek out his form.
"Because it would be useful information to know." Ever the cryptic, of course that's all he leaves you with before turning his back to you, arms crossed over his chest as he exits the room.
The second time he hears the song, he's in between meetings. It's one of those rare days where he has a little free time, not that he knows how to spend that sort of thing anymore. Having entered the library, he can hear the radio playing the Arabic song once more. Your voice joins it, again, and Vladimir finds himself subtly eyeing his surroundings as the corners of his lips twitch, tugging at a smile.
He schools himself, able to keep himself in line. While the bookshelves keep him out of view and no one's in the vicinity, he quietly strolls through the stacks, hand grazing the many novels. It seems that now you've been here longer, you're starting to get more comfortable. Even if your voice isn't the loudest, the quiet nature of a library certainly doesn't help as it carries your voice, he's sure, outdoors to the nearby stationed guards.
Once he's around the nearest bookshelf, he peeks far enough just to see your visage. From this, alone, can he paint a picture. Hand still on the page, he imagines you'd been reading, the radio on quietly as background noise, no doubt something you've continued to use since you've yet to get used to the quietness his climate provides. Thus, the radios around the Compound offer solace. He's noticed you around them often. In your focus amidst the book, you'd been distracted by the song, a familiar tune on the radio beckoning your attention. Of course, not being one to resist temptation, you couldn't resist turning it up and singing along.
He can't deny you're awful. Otherwise, he'd probably have to shoot you. It'd grow to be a nuisance, really... and dangerous, a warning signal no doubt. Yet, there's an innocence about you when you sing. Mocha-colored eyes roam your features as he watches, mesmerized, your eyes closed, as your upper body moves to the music from your chair. The smile that graces your lips is one to remember, and it's one that has him equally awed, and yet... in amusement.
"You really don't understand?" With a swift turn, Vladimir reveals himself from the bookshelves, his hands clasped behind his back casually. The gasp and jump that he'd elicited from you does nothing more than garner a chuckle from him.
"Why do you care?" You ask, hand still resting on your heart as you attempt to catch your breath. Staring at him with wild eyes, it boggles you, the way you feel like he's asked you this before. It takes a moment, as it's been at least a month or so, but you remember that he has. He's asking again. "It's not like you know," you tease, poking him back. If there's anything you'd learned early on, and he'd learned about you... it's that you love to play with Vladimir by matching fire with fire. And, equally, he too, loves to do so.
"Actually, I do, любимая," he quips. With slow and calculated steps he begins approaching the table, eyes raking over you once and then twice. "and I don't! I can assure you. I only find it amusing how you seem more than content to sing something which could mean anything... according to you."
While he stops to close the book atop your hand, inspecting the spine and choice of leisure, you suspect. You place your hand atop his, afraid he's going to take the book. It's only when he meets your gaze briefly, long enough to narrow eyes at you before immediately departing for the door a few feet behind you. "Wait!" You call after him. Turning in your seat, a hand comes up to rest against the bulbous ear of the chair; thudding boots abruptly come to a halt as the Commander stops, albeit he doesn't turn around. "What does it mean, then?" You ask, words getting quieter as you start to lose confidence the further the moment continues.
"I'm sure you'd love to know." That's all he leaves you with. Dissatisfied and annoyed with the pettiness and childlike behavior the Commander can sometimes exhibit, you ignore him whenever you can. After all, while he may have originally intrigued you, whatever curiosity you had is not worth whatever outcome you receive in the aftermath of one of his moods.
When you finally find out what the song means, it's at a moment you were completely unexpecting it. After a successful mission, you'd all celebrated by building a big bonfire at camp, sitting around after dinner, sharing stories, and drink. It's not every day you get to let loose, and while normally there's a fairly tight schedule to work around, you know better to take advantage of a free day when you can. With this in mind, you drink to your heart's content. After all, it's on the Commander, right? Listening to the stories, your head leans back against the wooden makeshift benches as your eyes find the bright stars above.
It may be an effortless attempt to map them out, or mentally draw out the constellations you know, but as you listen to the jokes, the stories, songs, and laugh along, it isn't until there's a momentary silence that you finally raise your head again. Scanning around the fire, you notice that everyone's gone to bed, it seems. And sure, while it's been a long day and it'd been getting late, you didn't think everyone would've left so soon. Yet, your eyes are drawn to the only other pair you see, staring at you from a few feet to your right. The last person left at the fire.
"You're not tired?" He asks, and it's weird. It's like there's no mask up this time. You're not sure if it's the alcohol playing tricks on you right now, or if you're really hearing him correctly, but he almost sounds... genuine.
Head leant back against the wood once again, you let it loll to the right, finally able to meet his gaze. The flames make his eyes shine brightly, his features illuminated in a fiery glow. His hair is slightly amess, some strands not falling in the same direction as the wind has blown them around. Nose and jaw sharply outlined by the shadows of the night, you can't help but feel warmth, and not because you're both sitting right in front of the fire. Eyes having roamed his features, they finally meet his again as he turns his gaze from the fire once more to you, clearly anticipating an answer.
With a shake of your head, you do nothing to stop the way your lashes slowly flutter, the mere thought and mention of sleep threatening. As you lift the bottle in your hands to your lips again, wanting to finish the last little fifth or sixth of drink left in it, you're met with a disgruntled hum. "I think you've had enough."
The words should be a warning to you. A loud and clear signal as to what was about to happen, and yet you hadn't put two and two together in your intoxicated state of mind. "Mm-mm. 'Slmost finished," you manage to slur out. Lifting the bottle again, Vladimir is quick to stand, closing the space between you as he snatches it out of your hand and tosses it into the fire. The glass breaks, flames fanning higher momentarily as he reaches under your armpits and lifts you up. There isn't much of a struggle considering you can't put up much of a fight in your state.
"It's time you get some sleep," he states, wrapping an arm around your back as he attempts to guide you to a tent. He guides you outside of the fire circle until you don't move. And while he's a strong man, perhaps it's the drink, or he doesn't know what, but you're being as stubborn as a rock.
"What's it mean?" You ask. This takes him aback; the Commander knows you're not ignorant, and while you may be drunk, there's certainly no way that vodka, or any sort of liquor no matter the quantity is capable of erasing such a simple fact as the meaning of sleep. While he takes a step back, eyes beginning to search for signs of injury, it isn't until he follows your gaze that he understands.
Albeit the distant snoring, the wind, the roaring fire, and crunching of both your boots, he hadn't realized. It was quiet, the radio on the other side of the firepit. The device had been left on, and while the two of you had stayed awake he hadn't paid too much mind to it, yet now he can't help but smile. Of course, of course of all moments this song would play. Right now.
"You really want to know?" Vladimir asks, not backing away as he towers over you, eyes meeting your face in the darkness as he waits for your attention to find him again. After all, perhaps with the way he's been the one to hear you all these little times, maybe... just maybe it could be a sign.
Ridiculous, of course. That's what he told himself for months now, too good to be true. He knows what he's done... what he's had to do. What he will do and must, not just for himself but for his people, for the planet, in order to not only survive, but bring the world to a state that will be beneficial for all. Nevertheless, they always say there's a price one must pay for such deeds. He knows this true... and while he might have dreamt at times of other lives and wanted for other things, those boy's dreams were crushed long ago.
That was... until the radio started playing that song only moments ago. As he scans your face, eager and almost impatient for you to turn your eyes on him, when you do, it's not what he expects. The scoff that meets him leaves him taken aback. Met with an eye roll, and an attempt to walk past him. He knows. He knows he can be rough, and while it might be harsh he grabs your arm and keeps you from walking any further away. Whatever prize he thinks he's found, whatever omen, sign, or soul tie... he's not letting this go. He's not letting you go.
"I know you're just gonna trick me again, okay?" While other times he might be delighted to hear that you think he'd play games with you, nothing but stoicism sits on his features.
Bringing you in close, he searches your eyes as he whispers. "The love words of his eyes are sweeter than songs." Vladimir cautiously places a hand on your waist, the one holding your arm releasing its grip as it slides up to rest on your shoulder. "From a couple of words, from a greeting, I become someone else. When he sways, my heart sways with him. I may sacrifice my eyes and whole life for him, and it's too little." He repeats the words, the two of you gently swaying in the moonlit camp as the music quietly accompanies him in the background through the aged radio.
"My night, oh, night, my night." It feels as if with each passing moment his voice somehow gets quieter and quieter if that was even possible, yet you're already so impossibly close. "Oh night, my night, his love makes the night longer. The love of years between him and I. Just one more step, my heart, it's not a fantasy." Your noses just barely brush against each other, breath mingling in the space between you.
"My soul just go with him and get lost in his beauty. His covets the magic of life, his charm extraordinary. The one whose eyes the moon envied. The smile is the shining sun." There's no denying the heat between you, the tension thick in the minimal space between you, both of your eyes closed as you revel in this moment. Yet, he knows he shouldn't. You wish he would. As the song comes to an end on the radio, he's the first to open his eyes, eager to watch your open yours. As you do, it's the same happiness and adoration that he's seen you with on your expression even when you had no idea what the song had meant.
You might not have known what it meant... but something about the vocals and the expression of the song had just given you the sense that it had been about exactly everything Vladimir had just described to you. "Thank you," you whisper, not quite ready to leave this moment. Not ready to leave his arms.
Zziiippp!!!
The sound of a tent opening nearby causes both of you to distance yourselves, something within each of you sobering up instantly. While, sure, he's the Commander and can have anything he wants... you both know things are better this way.
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translations:
любимая = loved one / darling / lovely
forever taglist: @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo ,@ohdamnadam
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chamomiletealeaf · 6 months
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Thought of this at work today lmao
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madsfrank · 2 months
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Imagine wearing hair bows around Simon…
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When you first start wearing bows around Simon he’s starts absolutely melting. You can see it in his eyes.
You’ll get in his car and flash him a smile, as he sits there, dumbfounded.
“You look nice….” He’ll state, basically staring you down with his lips parted. Oh, what he’s thinking…..
How he wants to ravage you.
You’ll fold your legs as he clears his throat. Wanting to take you out, show you off, make everyone know that your all his.
His hand on your hip, heavy and strong, keeping you almost flush against his side. His girl, his woman.
You better believe your sitting between his thighs around your friends. He’s all yours.
He even buys you bows to match his shirts, buys you a skull one too, that one he nearly ripped off while making out with you. He couldn’t help it, that made him want you.
Yeah, if you couldn’t tell, he loves those bows on you.
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simonrileyyyy · 3 months
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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.
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casiia · 4 months
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༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; newlyweds.
warnings .: x reader, smut, mdni 18+, afab! reader, v! penetration, heavily unedited
.: masterlist.
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simon was not thrilled when you told him you didn’t want to sleep with him before the wedding, something about it being “bad luck”. at first he didn’t understand but he was willing to oblige, sleeping in the guest room didn’t sound too bad; although he didn’t like the idea of sleeping in a cold bed while you were just a room away — but fighting with you was never a battle he won. 
except, when you clarified that you didn’t want to ‘fuck’ before your wedding, he was not having it. he couldn’t stop the baffled laugh that slipped from his lips. it didn’t make sense, you weren’t a virgin; he had the pleasure of stuffing you full of his cock many times while dating. to say he was confused was an understatement. 
but, what the bride wants, the bride gets. so weeks go by where simon has to take care of his growing problem by himself; just to tease you, and hopefully make you regret your decision, he’ll get off in bed, right before you go to sleep. 
simon will have you watch the way he tugs at his cock with need, his head tilted back with grunts and an uneven breath. his chest heaving as thick ropes of his cum spurt onto his exposed abdomen. he’ll give you a sly smirk before climbing out of bed, his boxers tugged up but hanging too low revealing his v-line. 
it takes everything in you to stick to your word, watch every night as simon adds the lewd task into his daily routine. eventually, he’s the one that breaks, the way he stumbles into your shared bedroom and finds you with a hand between your thighs – his name spewing from your lips when you catch sight of him.
he wishes he could say ‘i told you so’ when you’re begging for him, needing to relieve the ache that’s been dwelling in your tummy for so long. he takes one look at your sopping cunt and wonders how long you’ve been trying to stuff your fingers inside of you knowing that they couldn’t reach that gummy spot only he could. 
simon shakes his head with a chuckle, taking his time to settle himself between your legs. he kisses your knees, hiking them over his shoulder and winding his arms around your thighs to keep you still. with his thumbs, he’s spreading your folds – a teasing tut and tilt of the head are all you need from him to know that he’ll never let you hear the end of it. 
he has to swallow a groan, hard eyes glued to your leaking hole. your juices dribbling from your cunt and dripping onto the bedsheets. “you sure you wanna keep up with your stupid idea? i can make you feel good, take care of you the way you need.” simon asks, almost begging for you to quit being stubborn this once and let him relieve you – to let him fuck you stupid so he can spill his cum deep inside of you instead of wasting it and wiping it off of his chest with a towel. 
he just wants to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him, hear your moans as his fat tip nudges against that one spot that makes your walls flutter around his cock. simon’s rutting his hips into the mattress, too lost in his lewd thoughts to hear you reject his suggestion. when he does he’s dropping his head with a low growl. 
he never thought he would hate your friends, but he could kill the person who told you about this stupid suspicion. simon is a good boyfriend, he’ll show you how good of a husband he will be too. reluctantly accommodating to your wishes, he stuffs his fingers inside of you instead of his throbbing cock.
oddly enough, he finds himself loving this more. the way your slick coats his hand – his engagement ring. simon is moaning at the sight, his simple soon-to-be wedding band glistening in the dim light as he finger fucks your tight hole. 
“aw, honey. s’too much?” he coos, curling his fingers inside of you and pressing his thumb to your clit. he nips at the inside of your thigh and grins at the way your legs tremble, your back arched off the mattress. with his free hand he wraps it around your wrist, squeezing it lightly so you’d loosen your tight grip on the bedsheets below. intertwining your fingers with his, he works you up to another orgasm, talking you through it.
“just like that, baby.” “cum all over my fingers, soak this pretty lil’ ring.” 
as much as he enjoys fingering you with his ring on, he loves it when you take a bit of control and take care of him the same way. rubbing over his clothed erection with your left hand, the big diamond on your engagement band looking small next to his sore, hard cock. 
simon’s eyes flutter when you squeeze his shaft, precum leaking from his slit and slowly dribbling over your fingers – over your ring, coating the big diamond. he’ll guide your hand up and down his shaft urging you to go quicker, he loves the way your soft hands feel compared to his calloused ones.
 he’s bucking his hips upwards into your hand, his head tilted back while he’s whining desperately. simon normally keeps his noises under control but he hasn’t felt your touch in so long.
“fuck, a-ah. can’t wait to marry you and fuck you right.” 
his breath hitches when you squeeze his angry red tip, the cool metal of your ring rubbing against his slit. with a deep groan he’s cumming all over your hand; watching with wide eyes, the way your fingers play with his hot, sticky cum. 
after your wedding ceremony, simon drags the both of you into the bathroom. shamelessly, he’s bending you over the sink, unzipping his trousers, and hiking your wedding dress up. 
“si, we can’t. people are waiting for us.” you squeal when he snaps the garter against your thigh, his rough hands squeezing your hips and pulling your thong down. simon only rolls his eyes, leaning down and spitting on your exposed pussy. he rubs his cock between your folds, using his spit as a lubricant.
“they can wait, m’gonna take care of my wife first.”
how could you say no, especially to your husband?
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AN: i know nothing about weddings or marriage, but i heart hubby si
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blingblong55 · 1 month
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Committed- 141&Los Vaqueros
Reader was kidnapped but somehow made it out under less than 24 hours for a specific reason
Price: we know what this group does to people in our team...
Ghost: if we don't find them in 24...we notify the spouse
Gaz: can they even make it?
Ale: they will
Rudy: they have to
*Soap comes running into the room*
Soap: GUYS!GUYS!CHECK THE NEWS!
-On tv-
News reporter: and are you sure this isn't some prank?
R/N: I'm telling you...i escaped, they choked me..to death...woke up in some coffin, my phone is at 1%...but i can't break my duolingo streak...I'm learning Mexican because my wife is spanish
-everyone looks at Rudy-
Rudy: they're learning spanish for me?*water eyes bc..#proudwife*
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shoukiko · 3 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley is not a rapist.
Simon "Ghost" Riley would not "punish" you so badly you have a miscarriage.
Simon "Ghost" Riley would not tie you up, call you a whore, and tell you to "take it or else"
Simon "Ghost" Riley would not insult your body so bad he gives you an ED.
Sebastian Kreuger would not Kidnap and abuse you.
Phillip Graves would not verbally attack you.
Phillip Graves is not racist or homophobic??
Nikto would not hit you for seeing his face on accident.
König would not throw you against a wall and call you a whore for coming near him, the dude has social anxiety..
idc what anyone says, if you enjoy any of these please get off the internet and figure out a different way to cope, this isn't even proshipper level, this is just wrong.
How are you going to headcanon a victim of SA as a rapist? How are you going to headcanon a victim of a lifetime of abuse as an abuser?
Headcanoning a southern american man as racist and homophobic just feels so icky!
Seriously guys please if you have issues, there are other ways!!!
I'm tired of blocking so many lovely accounts because of the amount of dub-con/noncon/straight up Sexual Assault that's in their reblogs or in the accounts they support and advertise.
There is a difference between tough and straight up fucking insane??? Maybe read the characters backstories and actually take their past into consideration because you guys kinda look dumb for making these characters so OOC. Please get help and keep your gross fics to yourself.
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nova-amor · 1 month
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tags. 18+ mdni, female reader. p-in-v missionary, creampie.
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“don’t look at me like that.”
“like what?”
“like that. you’re going to make me cum quick.”
the gooey muscles of your walls clenched around simon’s cock, strangling the flow of blood coursing through its prominent veins. a deep growl rumbled through his chests, brown eyes fluttering shut to avoid your heated gaze. “you’re going to be the death of me.” he hissed through gritted teeth as he turned his head away, nostrils flaring in annoyance as your walls contracted around him.
your cunt drew him in further, his hairy pelvis nuzzled against your heat. thoroughly soaked with your sticky arousal. your nails scratched at the back of his shoulders, digging into the curved flesh of his spine. his hips rocked into you nice and slow, drawing out the moment for as long as humanly possible.
“look at me, simon,” you whispered his name, one of your hands grazing over the tops of his shoulder, flowing over the pale scars raised along his skin. your hand would cup the curve of his cheek, bringing him in closer, his warm breath fanning over your lips. “cum in me, si. i want you to look me in the eyes while you cum inside of me. please.” you ordered him, legs hiking further up his hips. the new angle allowed for him reach deeper into you, drawing out pretty moans from your lips as the coarse hair of his pubes grazed against your clit.
with your legs crossed by the ankles over his back, you urged him to fuck you faster. to fuck you harder, deeper. you wanted more of him, desired every inch of what he had to offer. his tightened balls slapped against your ass, his head growing light and vision going hazy as he locked eyes with you. he wouldn’t be able to last like this for much longer. not when you were staring at him with such pretty eyes, your bruised lips parted in a whine as his cock nudged against your gspot.
without so much as another stroke, simon spilled into you, cum staining every pink surface within you white. “that’s it,” you cooed into his ear, caressing the sides of his face as he collapsed on top of you, his body shaking ever so slightly with aftershock. “my pretty boy’s s’ good to me. filling me up s’ well.” you praised as his lips latched onto your pebbled nipple, his soft tongue rolling over the bead with languidly strokes.
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yawnderu · 7 months
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Perfect Life — Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Mom!Reader
The first night the baby is home, Simon is so elated, mind racing 100 miles per hour. He glances at you and the sleeping baby between both of you, afraid he would crush her in his sleep despite knowing he sleeps like a rock.
What if this time is different? What if he has a nightmare and accidentally hurts either of you? What if someone breaks in? He doesn't have nightmares as often anymore, sleeping with you helps keep them at bay and you both have a fancy security system, yet he'd never forgive himself if anything goes wrong... so he does what he does best; be a guard dog for his girls.
"I love you." He whispers to both of you, laying on his side and looking at you both as if he was examining you in a lab, your breathing pattern he memorized years ago is still the same, and now he's memorizing the one of the little girl in front of him, carving it in his brain just in case if anything is wrong, he'll be able to tell.
It's been almost two hours and Simon isn't sleeping, staying up late and having a bad sleeping pattern became a part of him after so many years serving yet this time he isn't watching an enemy or a facility they're targeting, no, he's watching something much more important. He's watching his wife cuddle the baby in her sleep, her touch delicate yet protective, just as he imagined it would be ever since he found out you were pregnant.
He moves carefully around the bed, hand grabbing his phone and turning the brightness all the way down. Simon looks at you again just to make sure you're asleep before unlocking his secure folder, the corners of his mouth tilting up when he sees the contents of the folder.
It's full of pictures and videos of you, starting back in the day the 141 was formed, until you were heavily pregnant. The latest picture was of all three of you, holding the newborn in the hospital room, happy smiles on both of your faces and pure pride in his eyes. A small chuckle escapes him when he remembers how the nurse he approached seemed scared of him until he asked if she could take a picture of him and his girls, looking around one more time to make sure you were still asleep despite being able to hear your soft snores.
I'm so proud of you. His lips curled up into a soft smile, eyes starting to sting as they did every single time he remembers how far you've come. You look so different from the first time he met you—in fact, you both do, yet you're as beautiful as ever; fresh out of the hospital, no makeup, messy hair, and a peaceful look on your sleeping face while you hold the baby.
Thank you so much. In the quietness of his room and in bed with his two girls, Simon allows the tears to escape his eyes for the first time in years. I didn't even know I could cry anymore.
He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead and does the same for his little girl before laying back down, an arm protectively wrapped around your waist and over the baby, setting a safe distance between him and his little girl in fear of crushing her in his sleep. With one final look at his pride and joy he drifts off to sleep, his behemoth frame used as a protective shield for both of you in case something happens. Deep inside, he knows you're all safe.
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callsign-coolsquirrel · 3 months
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and they where neighbors
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eilidh-eternal · 4 months
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Captain Price smut? Yeahhhh, Captain Price smut.
Real estate agent reader who’s showing John Price flats in London, but the only thing he cares about are all the surfaces he can fuck you on.
18+ MDNI | f!reader | d/s dynamics | praise kink | oral f-receiving | unprotected P i V | creampie |
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“This unit is just under 100 square meters, but it has the open floor plan you requested, and the kitchen has recently been remodeled; all new cabinetry, appliances and gorgeous Calcutta marble countertops. It’s an entertainers dream.”
John won’t be doing much entertaining but he thinks you’re an exquisite show spread out on those countertops you love so much, skirt hiked up around your hips and lacy thong between his teeth as he nips and teases the sensitive juncture of your hip and thigh. The scrape of his beard against your thighs only causes you to spread them wider for him, already burning, and before you can protest—complain that you’d just bought those—he’s tearing the flimsy lace from your body and growling at the sight of your glistening cunt.
“Christ sweetheart, just look at ya. Been drippin’ since we walked through the door.”
The first card of his tongue through your folds is long and languid, and the way he moans at the first taste of you is something purely primal, born of raw desire and burning need. Hands made rough by years of hard work snake beneath your thighs, seeking purchase at your hips to knead at their plush and soft skin. He pins them to the counter when he dips into your entrance and you clench around him, a moan of his own echoing yours, vibrating against the throbbing bundle of nerves pressed against his nose.
You clap a hand over your mouth to muffle what would have been a scream when he takes your puffy clit between his teeth, flicks the tip of his tongue over it until your thighs are quivering against him. You could scream when he pulls away from you, leaves you dangling from that razor thin edge to pull himself up, to brace his arms on either side of your head and pull your hand away from your face.
“No more of that, doll. Need t’ hear ya. Gotta know how thin these walls are. Don’t want any neighbors reporting us for violating the noise ordinance.” With his orders given he returns to his position between your thighs, not wasting a moment as he hooks his arms under you and drags you to the very edge of the counter to throw your legs over his shoulders and continue with his meal.
You grip the edge of the counter with such force you worry it might crack, that it might crumble in your hands just as you are in his. Every searing pass of his tongue, nip of his teeth and bristle of his beard coaxes you back towards that ledge, and every moan and gasp you give him is rewarded with a growl that reverberates from his chest and straight to your clit, sending hot sparks of pleasure licking on your arching spine.
Watching you unravel before him is John’s second favorite part of the tour, tasting your spilled essence as you writhe and clamp your thighs around his head when you cum on his tongue. Second only to the way you feel wrapped around him, the way your brows slope upwards and your mouth makes that perfect little ‘o’ when he sheathes himself to the hilt inside you.
“F-fuck, ‘s too much… I can’t-”
“You can,” he grunts with a pointed thrust, and you whine at the fullness, the stretch of his thick cock and the press of the flared tip against your cervix. “You can take it, honey. Just keep those pretty eyes on me yeah?” You focus on his face, concentrate on the lines between his brows. “Good girl.”
He sets a steady pace, one hand pressing your knee up beside your face and with the other he braces himself on the counter, bent over you to watch your eyes flutter with every drag of his cock in and out of you.
“Fuck sweetheart… ya feel fuckin’ perfect. ‘S like you were made for my cock.” It’s too much, too intense staring up into the swirling depths of ocean blue eyes when he says things like that, and you look away before you drown in them and all of his pretty words.
But John is like a rip tide; calm and collected on the surface, but swift and brutal below. He halts his movements abruptly, grips your face, thumb and forefinger pressing into your cheeks, and forces your gaze back to his. “Did I say you could look away?” A beat of silence and he cocks an impatient brow.
“No…” you squeak.
“What were my instructions?”
“Eyes on you.” It’s less whiny but it still comes out small and breathy.
“That’s right, eyes on me. Gotta be able to see ya so I can take care of ya. Gotta know it feels good, that I’m not hurtin’ ya. Understand?” You nod weakly, but his brows remain furrowed, mouth set in a hard line, and he doesn’t move.
“Y-yes sir.”
“Good girl,” he hums in approval and removes his hand from your face, drags it down the length of your body as his hips begin to roll forward again, following the valley of your breasts down to your navel, your messily bunched up skirt, and presses his thumb to your clit, tracing slow circles around it. It doesn’t take long for him to find his rhythm again, faster this time, each stroke pushing him further and further towards that simmering pool of pleasure as your silken walls begin to flutter around him.
You can feel your own orgasm building, the velvety head of his cock brushing against pleasure centers deep inside of you and his thumb working your clit to fan the flames of your lust and desire into a blazing inferno. Hot tendrils of pleasure lick up your spine, arching you into him and rocking your hips against his as you mewl and whine, desperate for your release and to ease the growing heat within your veins.
“Close… fuck, I’m close-” you can barely manage, and he shushes you sweetly.
“I know sweetheart, can feel ya- fuck… clenching around me,” he says between panting breaths. “Wanna feel ya… milkin’ me. Be a good girl… and cum for me.”
He’s relentless in his mission to see you, to feel you, cumming on his cock, hips slamming into yours at a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin mingling with each of your breathy moans in the sweetest symphony he’s ever heard. And it’s hard, so, so hard to keep your eyes open, to keep them trained on him when he’s fucking you like a man utterly consumed by the desire to see you shatter beneath him.
You don’t hold back, don’t bother trying to quiet the scream that rips from your throat when he sends you careening over that edge, falling, falling, falling into a warm, blissful oblivion. Every muscle in your abdomen pulls taught, pussy clamping down on him as your orgasm tears through you like a wildfire through a parched forest, and he chases his own release with the same rabid intensity, grunting and panting above you with wild thrusts of his hips. A raging storm of intensity that finally breaks when his balls tighten and he spills inside of you, hips stuttering with a guttural moan that rumbles like thunder in his chest.
You stay like that for a long moment, your arms limp beside you, legs quivering against cool marble with his face tucked into the side of your neck and breathing raggedly. When he finally withdraws you whimper at the loss of him, the absence of his warmth and the fullness he gave now leaves you empty and leaking your combined essence, dripping down your thighs onto the obscenely expensive counter. You open your mouth to say something, try to move back to your feet before you make a further mess, but he silences you with his tongue, lapping at your entrance to taste both of you, and the only sound that comes out is an overstimulated whine.
“I know, I know…” he murmurs into your dripping cunt. “But we’ve gotta get ya cleaned up.”
You. Not the counters—you.
When he finally deems you ‘clean’ enough, he helps you down from the counter, makes sure you’re steady on your feet before you even try putting those ridiculous heels back on. And when you leave he tucks the ruined lace of your underwear into his pocket and guides you out of the flat with a firm hand on the small of your back, all the way to your car, and insists on opening the door for you.
Before you can seat yourself he tightens his hold on you and drops down to place a kiss on your cheek, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I’ll see you next week for that showing, sweetheart. Be good for me until then.”
©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
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CoD x reader y/n incorrect quotes!!! Pt. 2
Part 2 letsgooo
König: so you like cats?
Y/n: yeah…
König: *tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass off the table*
Ghost: no one can hurt me if I’m cold and detached and not emotionally invested in anyone
Y/n: hi :)
Ghost: *sweating* oh fuck…
Ghost: name one thing you wanna try in the bedroom
Y/n: seeing you get a full 8 hours of sleep
Y/n: can you at least try to see things from my perspective??
Ghost: *crouches down*
König: *kneels down*
Soap: *sits down on a chair*
Y/n: I hate you all
Ghost, stroking Y/n’s hair: you’re so tiny and adorable
Y/n: I could kill you in your sleep
Ghost, with love in his eyes: I know
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konigsblog · 4 months
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What are bjs like with the boys?
bjs with the 141 (+könig... sorry, he's my husband, i have to talk about him :3)
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price himself adores a blowjob, but he especially appreciates it when he's all pent up and stressed from his work. he leans back on his office chair, thick and muscular thighs spread wide open, his hard and girthy cock in the air, hard and drooling all over his abdomen. thick, milky cum smears across his abdomen when you tease his sensitive tip, doing small kitten licks to the head of his shaft, giggling when his breath hitches in his throat. “god--you’re doin’ things to me, princess...”
you slowly mouth down his dick, dragging your tongue up the prominent veins on his thick shaft. mmf’, even mouthing his heavy balls whilst pumping his meaty cock to prepare him, before wrapping your lips around the thick girth of his cock, looking up at him while he bops your head. price's hand tugs and nestles in your hair, encouraging you to take another inch and praising you for being so sweet and gentle with him, especially when he's so stiff and sore from his hard work. :3
simon riley can't get enough of it. he appreciates it whenever, always taking up on your offer. his large hand covers the crown of your head, not tugging, but gently pushing you down onto his big dick.
“attagirl, keep suckin’ me like tha’--yeah, tha’s it, pretty one, keep lickin’ up my balls, girly.” he chuckles, his eyelids heavy as he takes another drag from a cigarette, blowing a thick, grey cloud out. he's so twitchy, and so, so fucking hard when you suck his tip and fondle his heavy balls. your hand pumps whatever you can't take, whilst you slobber and drool all over his big, lengthy cock, your tears mixing with your saliva.
he appreciates it whenever; whether that's in the shower, in the morning, while he's watching the football, or at nighttime to soothe the throb between his thick, muscular, heavy thighs. mouthing down his shaft, you giggle at his reactions. taking his groans and growls as encouragement to take another inch. :(
gaz is so needy for a blowjob. when you don't want to have sex with him, he'll plead for a blowjob instead, flushed and hot when you begin taking down his boxers. kyle goes utterly insane when you suck and lick his dick over his boxers, covering them in spit and saliva while he begs and groans out for you to suck his cock properly. he loves to face fuck you, to throat fuck you, to push his lengthy, leaking dick down your throat, his sticky balls smacking against your chin.
both large hands on the side of your head as he grinds his thick, wet cock down your throat, laboured breathing and low, deep moans in the air. he adores spurting ropes of his thick, warm cum all over your pretty face, his fingers gathering some and pushing it into your mouth, watching the way you suck at his digits needily.
soap is so rough, he makes a mess on your face and forces you to show him how full your mouth is. he adores the sight, it gets his cock even harder, twitching in his hand as he pumps his veiny dick, preparing himself for another blowjob. and when you wrap your puffy lips around his girthy cock again, you allow him to take control. he pushes your head down onto his shaft, holding it there as he twitches and throbs in your mouth. johnny loves the sounds of your struggle; gagging on your dick after slobbering all over his dick and balls. :(
he likes when you cockwarm him, keeping your lips tightly wrapped around him at the base of his length. your cunt pulses around nothing, leaving you pumping your pussy with your fingers, coating them in sweet slick and moaning around his hard, big cock, johnny's eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sensation of your lips vibrating around his meaty length.
trying to suck könig off is difficult enough, but with how horny he is and how high is libido is, it makes it even rougher. könig loves to corner your head in, to push and squeeze your head with his two, muscular thighs. he slowly ruts against your mouth, one large and calloused hand covering your eyes.
“oh, verdammt, mein lieber. du bist so hübsch...” *“oh, damn, my dear. you're so pretty like this..." he grumbles out, sliding his big cock in and out your puffy lips, groaning lowly when you moan around his shaft.
he lets out a pained grunt, the way you suckle on his tip driving him insane, moaning out quietly at the taste on your tongue. könig loves rough sex; to see you in pain. so, of course, he adores the sounds of your gags, making sure you're gagging and drooling all over yourself, your chin covered in spit and thick ropes of cum. and you're so dizzy and needy, his hand covering your eyes, leaving you a complete, utter mess. :3
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moongreenlight · 4 months
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Ghost as a club bouncer. My brain is doing a hard reboot.
Him in one of those tight-fitted black tees. Big shoulders completely blocking the entrance?
Him standing with his arms crossed over his big barrel chest glowering down at people trying to get in with fake IDs or without paying the cover?
That stupid trope of him questioning your ID? What’s your address? What’s your birthday? What’s your sign? You trying to buy me a drink? And then he grudgingly waves you inside?!!
The idea of him being the one person in the club you shouldn’t be talking to, and especially not sassing that draws you to him all night???
Him standing in front of VIP and you trying to get through but there’s a big crowd but he’s so big and tall that he can see you so he just reaches out and drags you forward by the wrist with those big huge giant tattooed arms of his?!!!!!!!!!
Trying to flirt with him all night and him being stone cold until you finally decide to give it up because there’s some drunk guy looking to actually pay you some mind and when you go to the bathroom and come back out you see Ghost throwing the guy out??
AND THEN YOU GET ALL HUFFY AND TRY AND ARGUE WITH HIM AND HE JUST ROLLS HIS EYES AND TAKES YOU BY THE ARM AGAIN??!!!!!!
LEADS YOU THROUGH THE EMPLOYEE EXIT TO HIS CAR SAYING HE’LL TAKE YOU HOME. AND THEN ON THE DRIVE HOME WHEN YOU’RE BICKERING HE SAYS SOMETHING ABOUT
“Don’t know how to behave. Been humpin’ my leg all night. Have to sort out that needy cunt of yours see if you can’t stay out of trouble then.”
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erinfern0 · 5 days
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husband simon "ghost" riley
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husband!simon who cried while reading his vows, looking around the venue to see his team cheering for the both of you. They're one of the few people invited from his side of the room, but it was all the family he had and needed.
husband!simon who feels like he waited for this moment his whole life, the moment you finally said yes, giving yourself to him fully. Wearing the fanciest piece of clothing he ever had, saying the most important words he ever did, standing right beside you was a dream come true.
husband!simon who wouldn't drink a lot during your party, just admiring the view of you dancing and being so happy for him, with him. Especially enjoys when Kyle and Johnny stumble upon you and chuckle, pushing you towards the dance floor, having the time of their lives at the wedding of their favorite couple.
husband!simon who would take secret pictures of you, especially if you fall asleep amongst some guests. Head on Price's shoulder, Kyle's lap, or tangled up with Johnny on the couch in the hallway of the venue. He'll definitely torment you with them later, especially since you didn't really have a chance to get back at him as he has a spider-like sense for cameras and quickly avoids them.
husband!simon who's the happiest man alive beside you and would do absolutely anything to make you happy too. Acts of service are his favorite way to show you his love, especially when he's back from deployment for some time. Doing most chores and bringing you hot tea every morning,
husband!simon who spends as much time with you as he can, usually at home where he can just pull you close without caring for others. Grabbing your hips while you wash the dishes or pulling your waist when you try to get out of bed are a must.
husband!simon who just can't resist you, thinking about you all the time. Being far or close doesn't matter, you're on his mind 24/7. You can sleep beside him or be a thousand kilometers away, he's still thinking about you. If he can't see your face in the morning, he'd just imagine it with a smile on his face.
husband!simon who attends therapy regularly so he can be a better version of himself for the both of you. Especially if you're planning to make your little family a bigger one.
husband!simon who suffers from sleepless nights whenever you argue. He can't just fall asleep when you've just argued, so in most cases, he occupies his mind by cleaning the entire house or filling in some missing reports.
husband!simon who gets his stuff after the argument and gets ready to sleep on the couch, only to smirk when you enter the living room and make him come back to bed. You can't sleep without him as much as he can't without you. Yeah, you may not talk, but his arm will find its' way around your waist as you fall asleep.
husband!simon's favorite way to make up after an argument is waking you up with his arms around your frame and soothing apologies spilling from his lips. He loves the way you immediately pull him closer and comply, adding your own apologies to the mix.
husband!simon who is too old to care about morning breath, if you don't mind, he'll put a thousand kisses all over your face at any time of the day, especially to wake you up.
husband!simon who brags about you to his mates and won't shut up even if they complain. That's the price they pay after begging him to get to know more about his secret little love before.
husband!simon doesn't care about the money, because let's face it —he's got tons of it and will gladly spend it on you. Buys you secret gifts that he hides around the house before deployment, so you don't miss him too much.
husband!simon leaves the room whenever you call him. Your conversations are sacred, no matter how much his team wants to say hello, it's your time. They can call you themselves if they are so interested.
husband!simon who becomes a handyman as soon as you ask for anything. Your shelf is not leveled properly, and the sink is broken? Don't worry, love, he'll take care of it.
husband!simon who watches lots of documentaries with you in your free time. Also, secretly enjoys cooking shows and even more secretly — makeover TV shows. Especially the ones where they turn alternative-looking people into some normies, and loves to complain that they rip them off all their personalities.
husband!simon will get a matching tattoo with you. Probably already has some that remind him of you.
husband!simon who becomes very conversational, something you wouldn't expect the day you two meet. If you finally let him open up, he's yapping all the time with you, just rambles about all the little things that are on his mind.
husband!simon who very much enjoys those conversations while you two have sex, makes it even more sweet and domestic in his mind. Most of the time, you two talk about plans for the day or random chores that you need to finish while he pounds into you, making you both giggle and out of breath.
husband!simon definitely changes his tone around you. When Johnny heard that for the first time, his jaw dropped at the soft way he talked to you.
husband!simon who does everything in his power to protect you. The address he doesn't share with anyone, burner phones to contact you while being deployed, highest quality security. Most of the time uses nicknames instead of your name when in public, and probably one or two guard dogs that are y'alls most-loved pets (he pretends not to see how you spoil them while he's gone).
husband!simon who takes you on nice vacations whenever he can to make up for the time you two lost while he was deployed.
husband!simon who cannot see his future without you, you're stuck with him for eternity.
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 29 days
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Orange Peel Theory With Cod Characters
Would they peel an orange for you? (Scenario based on the test from TikTok)
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Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves, Vladimir Makarov.
This is probably one of the only times I'll be using the color orange, AHAHAHAHA. As you can tell I wouldn't be okay with the camp half-blood uniform as an Aphrodite kid. Writing this as I'm sick with a cold, my nanny since childhood peeled my oranges for me while telling me to finish all of it because it's vitamin C.
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Mansplaining this but the Orange Peel/Peeling Theory surrounding TikTok started with one girl talking about her experience with her ex peeling her oranges for her. It soon turned into a theory/test where people ask their partner to peel an orange for them, something as small and effortless as peeling an orange as that act of service represents their willingness to do things for their partner and if they refuse then that's seen as a red flag because it means that if they're unwilling to do that small thing for them then same case scenario for something big that requires a sacrifice.
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They peel it for you almost immediately, no words needed, just you staring at the orange. Grabbing it from the bowl of fruits and meticulously tearing the skin with their thumbs, being careful not to make much of a mess and to not bruise the orange.
It's not a secret that they like to do this, offering other little things like opening doors for you, peeling the skin of apples if you don't feel like eating it and slicing it up for you with a multipurpose camping knife, putting their hand on the edge of a nearby cornered things so it wouldn't be as painful if you hit your head picking something up.
Characters: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, König.
Would tease you once you ask them to peel it for you but will peel it. Would even hand feed it to you, you have to give them a kiss for every orange they separate. If you tell them you don't like the pith (the white stringy part) then they'd take it off for you.
They probably would ask you to peel some for them too some time around soon but you're more than happy to do it for them.
Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Nikolai Belinski.
You probably should've worded it better, you told them you felt like an orange.. "I feel like a tomato" is what you hear back. You laughed and clarified that you felt like eating the fruit.
"Oh.." they stopped to think if you had any oranges at home at the moment and they got up and peeled it for you, bringing a plate back of two peeled and pulled apart oranges with a glass of water for you.
Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
He'd throw the orange at your head, telling you to peel it yourself.
Characters: Philip Graves, Vladimir Makarov.
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee
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