#modern warfare 3

[sw11ft]

The community is great and all but some of y’all are unhinged… 😅

Also shoutout to @pampanope for drawing my name in a cool way I’m gonna use it as a watermark more often now :D

[rainswriting-blog]

An Argument With The 141 Boys

Summary: when you tell them “fuck you”

Warning(s): light angst, cursing, suggestive

Word Count: 1169

Reblog’s and feedback are appreciated. 18+ minors do not interact

Captain John Price

The door slams behind you as you stomp into the hallway, adrenaline coursing through your veins. “Fuck you,” you mutter under your breath, loud enough for Price to hear.

You don’t make it far before his voice calls out, firm but calm. “Stop right there.”

You freeze, the authority in his tone sending a shiver down your spine. Slowly, you turn to face him, your anger colliding with his piercing gaze.

“I don’t care how angry you are,” he says, stepping closer. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t if you didn’t treat me like some fragile thing!” you snap, your voice shaking. “I can handle myself, John.”

His brows furrow as he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I know you can. That’s not the point.”

“Then what is it?” you demand, frustration boiling over. “Why do you keep shutting me out? Why do you act like I don’t belong in your life when things get tough?”

His expression softens, the walls he’s carefully built around himself beginning to crack. “Because I’m scared, love,” he admits quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “Scared that one day, I’ll come back, and you won’t be here.”

The vulnerability in his words takes the fight out of you. “John…”

He steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face. “You mean too much to me, Y/N. I’m trying to protect you, but I’m doing a bloody awful job of it.”

You place your hands over his, your anger melting into something softer. “I don’t need you to protect me. I just need you to let me in.”

For a moment, he studies you, his eyes searching yours. Then, without a word, he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s both tender and desperate.

As you slowly drop to your knees.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Your heart pounds as you pace back and forth in the small living room, replaying the argument in your head. “Fuck you,” you’d said, your voice dripping with frustration. You hadn’t expected him to follow you home after that, but the knock on your door tells you otherwise.

When you open it, Simon is standing there, his mask in place but his eyes intense. “Can I come in?”

You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Why? So you can tell me how I’m overreacting?”

He exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I didn’t come here to fight, Y/N.”

“Then why are you here?” you ask, your voice softer now.

“Because I can’t leave things like this.” He steps closer, his presence filling the doorway. “Not with you.”

Your resolve wavers as you step aside to let him in. He removes his mask once he’s inside, revealing the weariness etched into his features.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to push you away.”

You sigh, your anger fading as you look at him. “You can’t just shut me out, Simon. I’m not some stranger who doesn’t care about you.”

His gaze meets yours, and for a moment, he’s silent. Then he steps forward, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. “I know,” he murmurs. “And that scares the hell out of me.”

“Why?” you whisper, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Because you’re the one thing I can’t lose,” he admits, his forehead resting against yours. “And I don’t know how to handle that.”

Your breath catches as his lips brush yours, tentative at first, then deeper, as if he’s trying to say everything he can’t put into words.

“Please, Simon,” you whisper, your voice thick with need, fingers curling into his shirt as you tug it upward. “I need you.”

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

The words are barely out of your mouth when you see Johnny’s expression change. He doesn’t look angry—just hurt. “Fuck you, Johnny,” you’d snapped, and now you’re regretting it as he stands there, silent.

When you try to walk past him, he catches your wrist gently. “Wait,” he says, his voice softer than you expect.

You stop but don’t turn to face him. “What?”

“Do you really mean that?” he asks, his thumb brushing against your wrist.

Your shoulders slump as the fight drains out of you. “No,” you admit quietly. “I didn’t mean it.”

He tugs you gently, coaxing you to turn and face him. When you do, his blue eyes are full of concern. “Then what’s goin’ on, lass?”

“I’m just… frustrated,” you say, your voice trembling. “You’re always risking your life, and I’m stuck here, not knowing if you’re going to come back.”

Johnny’s expression softens as he steps closer, his hand cupping your cheek. “I know it’s hard, love. But you’ve got to trust me. I’ll always come back to you.”

Tears prick at your eyes as you look up at him. “You can’t promise that, Johnny.”

His thumb brushes away a stray tear. “Maybe not. But I can promise I’ll fight like hell to make it home to you.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache, and when he leans in, you meet him halfway, his lips warm and reassuring against yours.

Johnny lifts you effortlessly, his hands firm yet gentle as he pulls your panties to the side. His movements are slow, deliberate, and teasing as he slides himself into you, leaving you breathless in his grasp.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

The tension in the room is unbearable after your outburst. You can see the hurt in Kyle’s eyes, even though he’s trying to hide it. “Fuck you,” you’d said, and now the silence between you feels insurmountable.

He finally speaks, his voice quiet but firm. “You didn’t mean that.”

You look away, guilt gnawing at you. “I was angry.”

“I know,” he says, stepping closer. “But that doesn’t make it okay.”

You swallow hard, your arms wrapping around yourself. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I just… I hate feeling like I don’t matter. Like you’d choose your job over me every time.”

His eyes soften as he reaches out, his hands gently resting on your shoulders. “Y/N, you matter more than anything to me. But this job… it’s not just a job. It’s who I am.”

“I know,” you say, your voice breaking. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Kyle pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly. “I know it doesn’t,” he murmurs. “And I’m sorry for making you feel that way. But you’re the reason I fight. You’re the reason I want to come home.”

You bury your face in his chest, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat soothe you. When you look up at him, his lips find yours, a soft yet passionate kiss that feels like a promise.

“Please, Kyle,” you murmur, your voice soft and pleading as you look up at him. “Take me to bed.”

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[forestshadow-wolf]

warning: MCD

Volume up

[madsfrank]

Imagine Simon beating himself up over you…

It’s late at night in the barracks, the task force had almost lost you to a bullet wound embedded in your side, another hour without treatment and you would have been lost for good. You lie in your quarters, having been treated and given fluids that you needed to live, when suddenly you hear a heavy knocking at the metal door.

It’s Simon, his knuckles are bloody from hours using a punching bag without thinking, his mask halfway on his face to reveal him as a panting mess still sweaty with effort. With your permission, he cracks open the door halfway, just to stare out at you in the faint glow of the room.

“You can come in Si, I can’t see you like that.”

He shuts the door softly. Afraid to rouse you anymore from needed sleep. Once enveloped in the darkness you were using to rest, he is dragging himself over to you and leaning over your frame in a manner far too intense for you in such a state.

“Si? What’s wrong?”

As you reach your hand up to his masked jaw, he suddenly takes your wrist in a heavy grip and forces your hand on his cheek.

He says nothing yet, closing his eyes to the touch and letting his breathing slow as he reminds himself you are alive….he had lost himself in hours of training and needed to remind himself that the mission was not a total failure, you were alive.

He would prefer it if you punched him, let him know how foolish it was to let you slip away from him, let him know it was all his fault and—

Instead he settles for breathing you in, muttering that he’s glad you didn’t leave, but the muttering becomes more of a groan as you try to pull him to bed with you, mewling at your gentle touch.

He’d prefer not to be seen like this, but then why would he have come to your room, other than to fall into your embrace and remind himself he’s grounded.

As he lies with you, he tells himself that someday soon he’ll take the mask off, only for you. You’re the only one that can see him like this.

With that thought, he lets himself drift off with you.

౨ৎ-Masterlist

[cursednightingale]

IM MELTING

his soft little grip on Riley's paw🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[elysianvrt]

"So you do like me?"

"I like you alive."

--

pls take this sick doodle as an apology for not posting

[deadunderorbit]

nod nod nod

[wintersongstress]

Simon "Ghost" Riley | Modern Warfare III (2023)

[yawnderu]

Can't stop thinking about Simon crying while making love.

It's all too tender, too soft and loving, the sheer adoration in your teary eyes forcing him to swallow down the knot building up within his throat as his thrusts grow deeper, his calloused hands displaying an uncharacteristic amount of gentleness as they roam all over your body.

His warm face finds shelter on the crook of your neck, hot, deep exhales hitting your sensitive skin as tears slip out of his closed eyes for the first time in over a decade, his pale nose growing rosy against you as he sniffs, not wanting to dirty you with his runny nose— not wanting you to see him as pathetic, not wanting to explain that it's the first time his body belongs to him, the first time he's willingly sleeping with someone.

Your soft hands are a sheer contrast to the roughness he's used to, caressing the bumps from his scars with nothing but pure reverence, coming up to the back of his head, pressing his face closer to your neck, thankful for the choked sob that leaves your lips at the trust he's displaying, as it muffles his own.

[rj-opp]

¨Johnny….you shaking love.¨ ¨!…Ye don't….don't know shiet stranger!¨

[popcaki]

Wanted to repost the Ghost art I did in 2022 because I still really like how they turned out.

+ bonus König sketch I did

[toxic-garbage-island]

💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻

[urmomschocolatemilk]

Thinking about animal lover Ghost and its the sweetest thing ever!!

Its pouring rain outside as Simon trudges through the streets of Manchester and back to your shared apartment. He’s uncomfortable and cold, even with the thick jacket he has on, but he supposes it doesn't do much when its soaked through with freezing rain water.  

Simon hates the weather in Manchester. He always has. He doesn't mind the gloom, or the chill as much as he minds the rain. He hates the rain and he especially hates when a storm of this size catches him on the road. Usually, he’d come home and complain about the weather, shower and complain some more. Thís time though, when Simon gets home, he doesn't come complaining about the weather or grumbling about the rain in his thick British accent.  

Instead, when Simon opens the door and steps inside, soaking the floor matt within seconds, he holds out his loosely cupped together hands. “I brought home a friend lovie’.” He says. 

You watch in confusion at his statement, as he opens his hands to reveal a tiny shivering kitten curled up in his much larger palm.

Never would you have expected this big hunk of a man to bring a kitten back to your flat, but if there's one thing Simon has showed you, it's that he has soft spots where you’d never think he does. Apparently, rain-stranded kittens are one of them.  

You gasp reaching your hands out to take the wet animal from him.

“I found her behind a dumpster.” he explains, watching you pet a thumb down her head. The tiny cat curls into the warmth of your body.  

“Aw, poor baby,” you frown, cooing, “what are we going to do with you?”  Your question is directed to her even though she can't really respond, only shiver in your palms. Simon thinks its adorable how you talk to the little kitten, the way you coo at her and bring her closer to your chest to comfort her. He takes a moment to absorb the scene before speaking up.  

“I was hopin’ we could keep her.” He speaks.  

Your face lights up at the suggestion, “Absolutely.”  

His eyes don't crinkle at the edges at your agreement and the edges of his mask dont shift to let you know he’s smiling, but under the passage way light, you swear you can see a little sparkle come alive in his eyes.  

[happyvoltz]

grabby

[felixeis003]

“I’ll be Home for Christmas”

[journen]

Mer Soap au, installment 2! Their meeting. I'm imagining they met after a helicopter Simon was in on an op got shot down over the water. Soap then pulled him to shore, and waited by him until he woke up.

This is Simon when he wakes up. 🤣

Installment 1 of this au is here!:)