#modern warfare fluff

[iluvzaddies]

meine liebe, mein leben

pairing: könig x wife!reader

warnings: pregnancy

summary: after spending months on the battlefield, könig comes home to find you with a swollen tummy.

könig couldn’t wait to get home to you, his beloved wife. his love, his life. he had been dying to see you, hold you, kiss you and make love to you again throughout the entirety of his mission.

he kept a polaroid of you in his pocket, in case he felt down or if he missed you. seeing your face always made his day better. and whilst he kept a polaroid of you, a heart-shaped locket with a tiny photo of him inside adorned your neck. it was old school and cute.

he was glad you were willing to stay by his side, despite knowing he was in the military and that he would always get deployed. he hated leaving you, but you reassured him about it, saying it was his job.

after what felt like a decade; staying in a town turned into a war zone, keeping civilians safe and protecting them from terrorists, he could finally go home.

on his way home, he felt giddy.

he didn’t notify you of the news because he wanted to surprise you. were you cooking or cleaning right now? should he surprise you by wrapping his arms around your waist? he could imagine your reaction. you would scream at first, thinking it was an intruder, but when you realized it was just your dear husband, you would hug him so tight he could barely breathe.

he opened his and your house with a spare key. unlocking the door, he stepped in and was greeted with a great silence. you weren’t vacuuming the living room, you weren’t cooking in the kitchen, you weren’t eating something in the dining room. he felt slightly disappointed the surprise didn’t turn out like what he imagined in his head, but oh well, you were probably sleeping in the bedroom.

so he headed towards the bedroom and there you were, sleeping soundly on the king-sized bed.

he dropped his gear onto the ground, including his helmet and mask, slowly getting on the bed.

“i’m home.” he whispered into your ear, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

you only hummed in response.

he chuckled.

“(y/n)… meine liebe… i’ve returned.”

you scrunched your face, eyes opening. you were met with the sight of your husband’s handsome face – which you had the privilege of seeing all the time – hovering above your own.

“könig?”

“ja, i’m here. i’m home.”

your eyes widened and you abruptly sat up.

“könig.” you repeated as if you couldn’t believe your eyes. you reached out to touch his cheek, moving your thumb up and down in a slow motion.

you missed him so much. so very much. every single day, you thought about him, if he was doing alright, when he would return, etcetera.

as tears began to well up in your eyes, könig, the ever so loving husband, began to worry and asked, “what’s the matter, meine liebe?”

“i’m just glad you’re home and safe.” you sniffled. “we wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

könig was confused.

“we?” he pointed out.

you nodded. you took his hand, guiding it to your belly, where your child resided.

“y–you’re pregnant?” his eyes looked like they were about to pop out and his jaw about to hit the floor.

“yes.”

“how…” he trailed off, staring at your evident baby bump.

“how far along am i? four months. that’s how long you’ve been gone.” you caressed your belly.

you were worried for a second, thinking he didn’t want a child, but your worries washed away when he pulled you in for a hug and a kiss.

“my baby is having a baby!” he exclaimed excitedly. “i’m gonna be a father!” he was overjoyed with happiness. never did he ever see himself marrying someone and having a baby with them, but look at him now. he was a husband and a father.

you sighed in relief. “i thought you were upset. i was worried for a sec.”

“worried? why?” he was taken aback by your words. he grabbed both of your hands, pulling them towards his face and placing a gentle peck on them. “this is the best moment of my life. i would never be upset about this. you’re my love, my life. meine liebe, mein leben.”

“you’re my love and life too.”

after saying that, you shared one last kiss before dozing off in each other’s arms.

[gravesshoe]

Phillip Graves would be an overprotective hubby!!

Graves gives such overprotective vibes hihihi

He would have your location on his phone, and vice versa, you'd have his, so just in case, you'd always know where to find him :))

Leaving the house after dark? Hah, didn't think so baby, he's going with you, or at least, drive you to wherever you got to be and of course pick you up too.

While we're on it, he's always offering to drive you everywhere. Going to a friends house? Shopping? Going to the gym? he doesn't care, he's your personal escort because what else is a husband good for, duh.

Need him to pick you up because something inconvenient happened? He's there in a heartbeat. Car broke down? Don't worry Phillip is already on his way. Don't feel safe somewhere? Drops whatever he's doing to come and get you.

Phillip doesn't ask question, you need him? he's there. He's a simple man after all.

On that note, even if you were travelling and things went south, he'd be there too. Even if it's on the other side of the world, he'd either send his men or come there himself, depends on the situation of course.

Side walk rule!!! He follows that rule and you know it!

Overall, Phillip loves his wife wayyy too much not to be this way. He'd never be controlling, possessive or jealous, he trusts you completely and would never do anything to limit your freedom, he just wants you to be safe <3

[rainswriting-blog]

Netflix and Chill

Summary: You, Ghost, and Johnny, as partners in a shared relationship, decided to spend the evening watching a movie together.

Warning(s): threesome, blowjob, cursing, p and v penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, cum, cum eating, praising, vaginal fingering.

A/N: I truly enjoyed writing this, and I love both of these men with all my heart.

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

The low hum of the television fills the small living room as you sit cross-legged on the couch, a bowl of popcorn nestled in your lap. Simon leans against the far wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, his balaclava pulled down, revealing the chiseled features of his face. His sharp eyes are fixed on the screen, but you know he’s not really watching. On the opposite end of the couch, Johnny lounges with one arm draped over the backrest, close enough that the occasional brush of his fingers against your shoulder sends little sparks skittering up your spine.

Between them, you feel both safe and utterly undone. It’s always like this—caught in the orbit of their intensity and warmth. The only place you’d rather be is nowhere else.

“I don’t know how you two manage to sit through these without tearing them apart,” you say, your voice breaking the silence as you toss a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Doesn’t all the tactical nonsense drive you insane?”

Johnny turns his head toward you, his grin playful and full of mischief. “Oh, it does. But I’d hate to bore you with all the details, lass. Wouldn’t want you thinkin’ we’re too pedantic.”

Simon chuckles low and deep, his voice sending a subtle shiver through you. “Speak for yourself, MacTavish. I’m just here for the explosions.”

You roll your eyes, pretending you don’t notice the way Simon’s voice feels like a warm hand sliding down your back or the way Johnny’s teasing grin stirs something low in your stomach. It’s not unusual—this magnetic pull you feel toward them both. But tonight, it’s different. The air feels thicker, the unspoken tension between the three of you palpable.

Johnny shifts closer, closing the gap between you as he reaches for the bowl of popcorn. His fingers brush yours, lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. When you glance at him, his eyes are sparkling with something playful but undeniably intimate.

“Careful, love,” he murmurs, his voice dipping lower. “I might start thinkin’ you like me invading your space.”

You’re too aware of how close he is, the warmth of him pressing against your side. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you force yourself to look away, only to feel the weight of Simon’s gaze from across the room. His eyes are sharp, piercing, and they burn into you with the kind of intensity that makes you feel seen—truly seen.

“Johnny,” Simon says, his voice a quiet command. “Don’t push her.”

Johnny leans back slightly, though his grin never fades. He throws his hands up in mock surrender, the motion deliberately exaggerated. “Alright, alright. Just a bit of fun. She doesn’t mind, do you?”

Your lips part, but no words come out. You don’t know how to answer when the charge in the air is making your skin prickle and your heart pound. Simon steps forward, his heavy boots thudding softly against the floor, and suddenly, the room feels much smaller.

“Johnny likes to test boundaries,” Simon murmurs, his voice low and even as he moves to stand behind the couch. His hand brushes your shoulder lightly, the touch fleeting but deliberate. “But you don’t have to put up with him.”

“Oi, don’t act like you’re any better,” Johnny retorts, but his tone is lighter now, more teasing than defensive.

You laugh softly, the sound shaky but genuine. “I think I’m doing alright, considering I’ve got both of you to deal with.”

Simon huffs out something close to a laugh, but his hand lingers on your shoulder this time, solid and grounding. “You’ve got patience, I’ll give you that.”

Johnny shifts closer again, his arm brushing yours as he leans in just enough to close the space between you. “It’s not patience, Ghost,” he says, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as his eyes lock on yours. “She likes us.”

Your breath catches, and you glance at Simon, hoping for some kind of lifeline. But he’s watching you with that same unyielding intensity, his fingers curling ever so slightly against your shoulder.

“Is that true?” Simon asks, his voice quiet but carrying weight. “Do you like this? Us?”

The room falls silent except for the low hum of the television. You feel the heat of Johnny’s body on one side, Simon’s steady presence on the other, and the pull between them like gravity. They’ve always been larger-than-life to you—Johnny’s infectious warmth and Simon’s quiet strength—but now, they’re just men, waiting for your answer with bated breath.

You swallow hard, your heart thundering in your chest. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you admit softly, your words barely louder than the TV.

Johnny’s grin softens, his hand sliding down to rest on your knee. His touch is gentle, but the way his thumb brushes against you is anything but innocent. “Good,” he says, his voice warm and teasing. “Because you’re stuck with us.”

Simon leans down slightly, his presence looming but comforting as his hand moves to cup the side of your neck, his thumb brushing your jawline. His touch is featherlight, a stark contrast to the strength you know lies beneath it.

“You’re not overwhelmed?” he asks, his voice low, close, like he’s afraid of breaking the moment.

You shake your head, your voice steadier this time. “No. I’m not.”

The moment hangs heavy, your breath caught in your throat as the weight of their attention presses down on you. Johnny’s grin sharpens, playful but laced with something darker, more intense. Simon’s eyes bore into yours, his steady, commanding presence amplifying the heat thrumming in the air.

“Good,” they both murmur in unison, their voices intertwining—Johnny’s light and teasing, Simon’s low and firm.

Before you can process what’s happening, Johnny moves first. With a swift, deliberate motion, he dumps the bowl of popcorn onto the floor, the scattered kernels forgotten as his hands find the hem of your pants. His fingers are quick, tugging with a determination that sends a jolt of electricity straight through you.

“Guess we’re done with the movie, aye?” Johnny says, his grin wide and shameless as he pulls down your pants and panties.

Your gasp is swallowed by the sound of Simon stepping closer, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. Unlike Johnny’s hurried movements, Simon’s are deliberate, calculated. His hands brush your skin as he pulls your shirt over your head, leaving you bare and vulnerable under their dual scrutiny.

“You sure about this?” Simon asks, his voice a steady rumble that grounds you even as your heart pounds wildly.

You nod, your throat dry as you whisper, “Yes.”

Johnny chuckles softly, his hands roaming up your thighs as he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Knew you could handle us, lass.”

Johnny drops to his knees in front of you, his hands firm yet gentle as he spreads your legs, opening you up for him. His eyes darken as they take in the slick evidence of your arousal, glistening and undeniable, and the corner of his mouth curves into a wicked grin.

His mouth connects on your cunt without hesitation, the warmth of his tongue pressing against you as he takes his time, savoring every moment. A soft moan escapes your lips, unbidden, your body arching slightly toward him as his hands grip your thighs, keeping you steady and open for him.

Simon doesn’t say anything, but his gaze rakes over you with an intensity that leaves you trembling. His fingers trail down your arm, anchoring you as Johnny goes down on you.

As Johnny continues his deliberate, almost torturous movements against your cunt, your moans growing louder, Simon steps closer, his imposing figure commanding your attention. You glance up at him, your breath hitching as he unzips his pants, pulling his cock free with slow, deliberate movements.

“Open your mouth, love,” Simon orders, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes are locked on yours, intense and unyielding, as he waits for you to comply, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

You grab the base of his cock slowly putting him inside your mouth as you start to bob your head back and forth

Johnny pulls back just enough to admire the view, his lips glistening with your arousal as his eyes meet yours, full of mischief and hunger. “What a beautiful sight, lass,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with desire. His words send a flush of heat through you, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of his fingers sliding into your core—slow, deliberate, and utterly consuming. Your toes curl as he sets a rhythm, each movement coaxing a new sound from your lips.

Simon’s free hand brushes against your chest, his touch firm yet teasing as his fingers find one of your pebbled nipples, rolling it gently. At the same time, Johnny’s other hand mimics the motion on the other side, the dual sensations making your back arch as their combined focus leaves you trembling. Their gazes meet above you briefly, a silent, shared understanding passing between them before they both redouble their efforts, leaving you entirely at their mercy.

Your lips slide off Simon’s cock with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting you briefly as you keep your hand firmly wrapped around the base. The taste of him lingers on your tongue, but the overwhelming sensations from Johnny’s relentless fingers leave you breathless.

A scream rips from your throat as your body gives in, the wave of your climax crashing over you with raw intensity. Your hips buck against Johnny’s hand, his fingers curling inside you just right to prolong the euphoria. Simon groans above you, his cock twitching in your grip as he watches you fall apart, the sight of your pleasure driving him dangerously close to his own edge.

“Beautiful,” Simon mutters, his voice strained with desire, while Johnny smirks wickedly below, clearly proud of the mess he’s made of you.

Johnny slowly withdraws his fingers from your trembling core, his movements deliberate, almost teasing, as if savoring the moment. He holds them up for Simon to see, glistening with the evidence of your release.

“Look at this,” Johnny says, his voice low and full of pride. “Our pretty little mess.” His grin is wicked, his eyes flicking between you and Simon, reveling in the shared satisfaction between them.

Simon’s gaze darkens as he takes in the sight, his jaw tightening with barely restrained desire. “She’s perfect,” Simon mutters, his voice thick as his eyes lock on yours. The way they both look at you—like you’re their greatest prize—leaves you utterly undone, your body still quivering from the aftermath of your release.

“It’s my turn,” Simon growls, his voice dripping with authority as his strong hands grip your legs, pulling you toward him. With a firm, deliberate motion, he aligns himself with your slick core, the thick head of his cock teasing you before he slowly presses in, stretching you inch by inch. The deep warmth of him fills you, stealing your breath as he bottoms out, his grip tightening on your hips.

Behind him, Johnny strips off the last of his clothes, his body all lean muscle and confidence. He steps around, fisting his above-average cock in one hand as he watches you come undone beneath Simon’s powerful thrusts. A grin spreads across his face as he cups your cheek, guiding your head to the side.

“Open up, lass,” Johnny murmurs, his voice softer now, coaxing, as he slowly pushed past your lips. The weight of him on your tongue is overwhelming in the best way, the salty taste of him grounding you as you hold onto his thigh for balance. Your other hand grips Simon’s arm, seeking stability against the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, each one hitting deeper and harder.

The room is filled with the sounds of your moans muffled around Johnny, Simon’s low groans, and Johnny’s murmured praises as they both take you, their movements perfectly in sync, driving you closer to the edge once again. Every nerve in your body is alight, caught between their unyielding attentions as you lose yourself completely to them.

The heat builds again, faster this time, your body overwhelmed by the intensity of their combined efforts. Simon’s thrusts grow deeper and more deliberate, his grip on your hips unrelenting as he drives you closer to the edge. Johnny’s cock slides deeper into your mouth, his hand tangled in your hair as he groans low, the vibration of your muffled moans driving him wild.

Your body trembles, a coil tightening low in your belly as the familiar wave of pleasure begins to crest. Simon’s deep, guttural growl as he watches your body respond to him only pushes you further, and when Johnny murmurs, “That’s it, love, let go for us,” it’s all you need.

With a muffled cry, your climax crashes over you, leaving you shaking and gasping around Johnny’s cock. Your walls flutter and clench around Simon, drawing a low curse from his lips as he holds you steady through the wave of euphoria. Every nerve in your body feels electrified, the second release leaving you boneless and utterly spent between them.

“Good girl,” Simon mutters, his voice rough but filled with pride, his thrusts slowing as he lets you catch your breath. Johnny gently pulls out of your mouth, stroking your cheek with surprising tenderness as he looks down at you with a soft, satisfied smile.

“Two down,” Johnny teases, his tone playful as he leans in, brushing a kiss against your temple. “Think you’ve got one more in you, lass?”

You nod your head lazily, still trembling from the aftershocks, your body pliant and eager despite the exhaustion setting in. Simon steps back, his large hands brushing over your skin briefly as Johnny takes his place, his grin wild and eager.

“Good girl,” Johnny murmurs, his voice full of wicked promise as he positions himself. Without giving you a moment to fully recover, he plunges his cock into your soaking core in one swift motion. The stretch is immediate, his pace unrelenting from the start, and the sudden intensity rips a sharp cry from your lips.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Johnny groans, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he sets a punishing rhythm. Each thrust sends shockwaves through your body, pushing you further into the couch, the sound of skin against skin mingling with his breathless curses.

The mess of your arousal and the remnants of your climax coat his length, dripping down and pooling beneath you, staining the couch with every movement. Simon watches from above, his dark eyes raking over the sight of you coming undone again, his cock still hard and glistening from your earlier efforts. He strokes himself lazily, his jaw tight as he mutters, “Johnny, don’t ruin her too quickly. I’ve got plans for her yet.”

Johnny lets out a low chuckle, but his thrusts only grow deeper, his hips slamming into you with the kind of desperation that makes your entire body burn. “Don’t worry, Ghost,” he pants, his grin feral as his fingers dig into your skin. “She’s got plenty left to give.”

“Fuck,” you scream, your voice trembling with pleasure and desperation as your hand reaches for Simon, wrapping around his cock once more. Without hesitation, you pull him toward you, taking him back into your mouth with a moan that vibrates around him. The weight of him on your tongue is grounding, a contrast to the unrelenting pace Johnny keeps behind you.

Simon groans low in his throat, his large hand resting at the back of your head as he guides your movements, his hips rocking gently to match the rhythm of your lips. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal, his gaze locked on you. “So good for us.”

Behind you, Johnny doesn’t let up, his cock driving deep into your core with every thrust. His pace is merciless, his hands gripping your hips tightly, and every movement sends shocks of pleasure coursing through you. Your free hand slides up to his abdomen, the hard ridges of muscle flexing beneath your palm with each thrust.

“Enjoying yourself, love?” Johnny teases, his voice strained but full of that familiar mischievous tone. His words are punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips, making you moan around Simon.

Your fingers dig into Johnny’s skin, nails scraping lightly across his abdomen as your body trembles under the overwhelming sensations. He growls at the sting, his pace faltering for just a moment before he doubles down, pounding into you with renewed fervor.

“You’re gonna make a mess of all of us, aren’t you?” Simon mutters, his hand tightening slightly in your hair as he watches you struggle to keep up, caught between their unrelenting attentions. The sight of your lips stretched around him, your hand clawing at Johnny’s torso, and the way your body shudders under their touch—it’s enough to drive them both mad.

The heat inside you builds faster than you can control, overwhelming every nerve as the relentless pace of Johnny’s thrusts pushes you closer to the edge. Your body trembles violently, tears streaming down your cheeks from the sheer intensity of it all. “I’m gonna cum,” you manage to gasp out, your voice trembling as your grip tightens on Johnny’s abdomen and Simon’s cock.

Johnny’s grin sharpens, his hands digging into your hips as he slams into you harder, deeper, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room. “That’s it, lass,” he groans, his own voice strained with need. “Cum for me. I’m right there with you.”

Behind you, Johnny’s pace becomes erratic, his movements more desperate as he chases his own release. The sensation is overwhelming, sending you spiraling into your third climax of the night. Your entire body shakes as the wave crashes over you, a guttural scream tearing from your throat, muffled only by Simon’s cock still in your mouth.

Simon lets out a deep, guttural groan, his hand tightening in your hair as he feels the vibrations of your cries around him. “Fuck,” he growls, his hips jerking forward slightly as he twitches in your mouth. “Gonna make a mess of you, love.”

You feel the heat of him spill across your tongue, salty and thick as Simon finally lets go, his release hitting you in warm pulses. Johnny follows a moment later, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself deep inside you, groaning low and rough as his own climax overtakes him, his warmth spilling into your trembling core.

The three of you collapse into a tangled, breathless heap, the room heavy with the scent of sex and the echoes of your shared release. Johnny lets out a soft chuckle, brushing a stray tear from your cheek as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “What a good girl you’ve been for us,” he murmurs, his voice full of warmth and pride.

Simon’s hand moves to your back, his touch steady and grounding as he murmurs in his low, gravelly voice, “Absolutely perfect.”

“And hopefully the neighbors didn’t hear us,” Johnny quips, his thick Scottish accent tinged with amusement as he smirks down at you. His thumb brushes lazily over your thigh, his grin nothing short of mischievous. “Though, can’t say I’d blame them if they did. You were quite the spectacle, lass.”

Simon lets out a low chuckle, his hand still resting on your back as he leans against the couch. “If they didn’t hear that,” he mutters, his voice dry and laced with humor, “they’re either deaf or lying to themselves.”

You manage a breathless laugh, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. “Great. Just what I needed,” you mumble, burying your face in Simon’s chest for a moment, feeling the rumble of his quiet amusement beneath your cheek.

Johnny tilts his head, feigning innocence. “What? You should be proud, love. If they heard, they’ll just know how lucky we are.”

Simon shakes his head, a faint smirk playing at his lips as he glances at Johnny. “You’re shameless.”

“And you wouldn’t have me any other way,” Johnny fires back with a wink, earning a small chuckle from Simon and a playful swat from you. The warmth between the three of you is undeniable, even in the aftermath of your shared chaos.

————————————————————-

The room grows quiet as the intensity of the moment ebbs, leaving only the soft sounds of your breathing and the comforting weight of their presence. Your body feels heavy, utterly spent, and you shift slightly, wincing at the sensitivity thrumming through you. Johnny notices immediately, his playful grin softening into something gentler.

“Alright, lass,” he murmurs, sliding his hands under your thighs to scoop you up effortlessly. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You nod weakly, leaning into his chest as he carries you to the bathroom. Simon follows close behind, his quiet presence grounding you. Johnny sets you gently on the edge of the tub, his fingers brushing over your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You okay, love?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern.

“Yeah,” you whisper, giving him a small smile. “Just…tired.”

Simon steps forward, his hands carefully peeling the rest of the sweat-dampened hair from your forehead. “We pushed you hard,” he admits, his tone laced with both pride and guilt. “Let us take care of you now.”

The warmth of their words settles over you like a blanket, and you let yourself relax as Johnny runs a warm bath, testing the temperature with his hand before gesturing for you to step in. Simon helps steady you, his strong hands keeping you upright as you lower yourself into the soothing water. The heat soaks into your aching muscles, drawing a contented sigh from your lips.

Johnny crouches beside the tub, his mischievous energy subdued as he dips a washcloth into the water and begins to gently clean your skin. “There we go,” he murmurs, his accent soft and soothing. “Nice and easy.”

Simon stands behind him, he gathers towels and fresh clothes. His movements are efficient, but his eyes remain on you, his gaze protective. “Drink this,” he says, handing you a glass of water. You take it gratefully, the cool liquid refreshing as it slides down your throat.

When the bath is done, Johnny helps you out, wrapping you in a fluffy towel as Simon supports you, his large hands steadying your tired frame. They guide you back to the couch, now covered with a clean blanket, and settle you down between them.

Johnny leans back, pulling you against his chest as his fingers trace gentle patterns on your arm. “You did so good for us, love,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Proud of you.”

Simon sits at your other side, his arm draped protectively over your shoulders. “Let us know if it’s ever too much,” he says quietly, his voice steady but tender. “We’ll always listen.”

You nod, a warmth blooming in your chest at their care. “Thank you,” you whisper, your eyelids growing heavy as exhaustion takes hold. Their warmth, their presence, and their quiet reassurances wrap around you like a cocoon, lulling you into a peaceful sleep, safe between the two of them.

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[nia-writes]

How they wake you up in the mornings~

A/N: this is based on them being off duty~~

Warnings: Slight NSFW in Prices, mentions of reader panicking.

Ghosty~

Normally: This man is up at 5am every morning, even off duty. Doesn't matter what time he slept the night before, 1am, 3am, 4am, he's still up. That being said, he won't wake you until later. Wake me up at 5am and I will fight. Unless you asked for him to wake you, he won't. But, if you did, he'd be gentle. Shaking you very lightly, and when your eyes open and focus on him, he's got a soft smile specially for you. He’s so whipped for you.

To be sweet: Simon can be very sweet~ especially once you've broken down his many, hard walls. At first, he would be unsure how to show you he loves you, so he makes you breakfast. I believe he would be a decent cook, and he would try his very best to make your favorite dishes. He would set the tray of food down on the nightstand, with tea of course, and gently start to kiss you awake. He will tickle if you refuse to wake up.

In a emergency: He's already thrown you over his shoulder and out the door before you even woken up- Doesn't matter what the emergency is, you are always his first priority.

To be a pain: Please tell me why I believe this man would just... *flip* the mattress over. Like, he'd place something on the floor so you don't get hurt, but test his patience and well.. you'll end up on the floor. He would make sure you're ok though, he's not that mean.

FOAP~~

Normally: He would always wake you up in a chaotic way. Tickling, dragging you out of bed, wrapping you up in the blanket like a burrito and throwing you over this shoulder, he does it all. He's always very gentle with you, before he attacks you in affection.

To be sweet: Johnny would be the the sweetest. He'd first start off by kissing and cuddling you, then depending on your mood, would order food or cook for you. Mornings like these are his favorite, he's a huge ball of affection and will suffocate you with it. RIP in peace

In an emergency: Oh gosh.. if you have anxiety, good luck. same bestie. He doesn't mean to overreact, but in a situation where your safety is in danger, his brain is empty as he picks you up and runs. He is very apologetic after, and will crush you with his love.

To be a pain: *Scottish music intensifies* For real, if you've still haven't woken up yet and he's having withdrawal symptoms from your smile- he will be the biggest pain. Along with the blaring music, he can, and will, starting singing loudly. He would also open the curtains and hold your hand above your head so you can't block your eyes. Good luck to you, just wake up.

John Price~

Normally: Price is a very busy man. On days when he's in a rush, he'll place a sweet kiss, rubbing your arms affectionately. But if he's home, he'll take his time. Holding you close to him, kissing your face, neck and shoulders.

To be sweet: He's extra needy in the mornings. Wakes you by caressing your body, nipping your ear. Saying soft praises while he thrusts gently into you. Afterwards, he would be super doting. Cooking, running a bath, whatever you need he will get it.

In an emergency: Very calm. It's almost creepy how calm he can be, as he uses his military voice to wake you. You know something has happened at his tone, knowing he rarely uses it with you. He's comforting still, if you're still sleepy, he will pick you up.

To be a pain: *Sighs* you won't need a shower because he's already given you one. If you ignore his warnings to wake up, he'll get a bucket, fill it to the very brim, and dump it on you. Yes, its cold water, yes, he is smiling so smug. Don't even dare to be mad with him, he warned you.

Kyle Gaz Garrick~

Normally: He would be lazy in the mornings, when he's on a mission, he doesn't get the chance to sleep or rest. He always wakes up first, smiling as he cuddles you tight. He kisses you gently until you wake up, whispering in your ear: "Mornin', love." Definitely stays in bed for hours.

To be sweet: Ah hes such a caring boyfriend~ He'd gently kiss you awake, once you've had a little soft make out session, Kyle would grab you like a princess and place you on the couch. He'd make you breakfast while cracking jokes with you. Always compliments you each morning, he finds you heavenly.

In an emergency: Very protective. He would still let you stay asleep as he picks you up and gets you to safety.

To be a pain: Bangs pots and pans together. May or may not eat your favorite food in front of you if you refuse to get out of bed, and when you do leave, he doesn't give you any. (unless you threaten to not kiss him) Or if you're a gamer, he'd tease you by saying: "Love, I'm about to play!" that would get me up so quick-

Alejandro~

Normally: This romantic, smooth man god i want him so bad. He's sweet every morning, bet he would leave the house early to grab you fresh flowers each day. He's just so in love with you. Always has to wake you with kisses, he's holding you so close to his chest. Your bodies are intertwined as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear~

To be sweet: Ugh. He's always sweet, especially in the mornings. But when he's feeling extra affectionate he writes you a love letter. You have a box fulled of them. He has so much love for you that it overflows so he has to write it down. Ale would run a bath for you, lighting candles and adding in your favorite scent. He will join you if you let him. Also needy in the mornings, but now as sweet as Price. who needs legs?

In an emergency: He is so calm when he wakes you, you'd have no idea that something happened. He doesn't want to scare or cause you to panic you so he, gently but quickly, grabs you and leaves. If you do panic, he is quick to calm you, calmly smoothing your back while whispering reassuring words.

To be a pain: I can never see him being a pain. Except for when he hasn't had your affection for a long time and you refuse to wake up. He'd lightly grab your ankle and drag you from the bed. Good luck if you're ticklish, he won't spare you. i can take him-

König~

Normally: At first, he would be hesitant to wake you. Even if you had asked him to, he would still be very anxious. He would also be scared to hurt you, he's a big tall delicious man, in his eyes you are precious. He would start by gently caressing your leg, whispering your name. And when you wake up and smile at him, he swears his heart stops.

To be sweet: He would leave early morning to get your favorite breakfast and snacks. Since he's home, he wants to spend the whole day with you, watching movies and not leaving your side. When he's back, he smiles as he caresses your cheek, his face turning red as he watches you slowly wake up.

In an emergency: Panics. He quickly calms himself and lifts you up with such ease, gently holding you as he runs. He reassures you everything is fine, not wanting to panic you, but he deals with the situation swiftly. There’s not many moments where he can spend with you, and he won’t let anything get in the way.

To be a pain: Never. He's the most sweetest amongst the men here, I can see him never being a pain to you, even if you absolutely refuse to wake up in the mornings.

[inkbybambi]

imagine going to a haunted house with your friend, she gets so freaked out she runs ahead and you trip and fall and can’t catch up to her.

ghost sees you, stalking toward you with a knife and you suddenly can’t breath, tears streaming down your cheeks as you choke on a sob and beg for him to stop.

you’re hyperventilating, trying to crawl away but backed into the corner of the hallway, and you’re absolutely shaking from fear. it’s hard to catch your breath, feeling like your chest is collapsing in on itself, fat tears still falling and dripping from your jaw.

ghost puts the knife away, holds out his hands in a placating manner but you’re still too scared, still begging him to stay away.

he uses a radio to call for someone, and you watch as a gentleman — no costume, no fake blood or weapons — comes to you. ghosts turns the other way to keep others away as the man crouches in front of you, blue eyes deep with worry, a frown pulling on his lips.

“you’re alright, sweetheart,” he says in this raspy drawl. “can you walk for me?”

all you can do is whimper and shake your head, unable to stop glancing over his shoulder, wondering if ghost is going to come back, if someone else — someone worse — will appear in his stead.

“i gotcha,” he says, carefully scooping you up in his arms, making sure to not jostle your ankle too much as he takes you through a door, the atmosphere not as suffocating.

he gently places you on a chair, still worried, checking you over for anything he might’ve missed. he looks so soft, his distinct facial hair trimmed and kept, eyes gentle.

“‘’m john,” he says, and you find it within yourself to give him your name back.

he politely ignores the crack in your voice.

“you okay?” he asks as he places a hand on your knee, rubbing his thumb gently over and over.

“m-my friend,” you begin, voice thick and tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, catching on another hiccup. “she really wanted to go to this but none of our other friends wanted to and she looked so sad and i hate scary stuff, but i went with her anyway and then i tripped and she ran off and never came back for me,” you babble through increasingly thickening tears, reaching out for his shoulders and curling your fingers into his shirt, for comfort, to ground you.

he cups your cheek, thumb wiping away your tears, holding back his tongue on how your friend left you.

“let’s get you out of here, hm?”

[tacticaldiary]

Sacrifices

Pairing: John Price x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

They’re surrounded and she’s the only person who can pull off the stunt required for the extractions team to do their magic. Defying her Captain’s orders was well worth the punishment if that meant said Captain and her teammates left this hellhole alive. Even if there was the possibility that that would be without her. 

Masterlist

“The evac team’s swarmed, can’t land until the roof is secure!” Gaz yells out while barricading the door the three of them burst through for cover. Price grits his teeth, cursing. 

Gunshots ping in the distance. This was supposed to be a simple mission. Capture the leader of an enemy organisation and transport him back to base for questioning. 

The only issue was the intel they’d received had been compromised from the inside, an ambush waiting for them instead of their target. Gaz, Price, and her were the three people from the Task Force dispatched, the operation needed to be done without raising any alarms, after all. A smaller unit made sense. 

Until it didn’t. The ambush had been brutal. 

Gaz took a shot to the leg and Price, two bullets to the shoulder to his firing arm. She was the only one unharmed. The room seems to be for some kind of storage. Metal racks line the walls, a single light illuminating the space dimly. 

“The roof is their primary focus, they know that’s where they’ll try to extract us from.” Price says, leaning against the wall. He does not flinch, does not wince or show any signs of discomfort from his wound aside from the sweat on his forehead and the pale complexion of his skin. Gaz isn’t doing much better, lowering himself down to get his bearing and inspect his leg. 

“Our options are stay here until we’re found, or take a room full of uninjured, armed forces all at once.” Gaz grits out, rolling up his pant leg. 

She’d been silent this entire time, thinking about their next course of action. The other two were injured. They’d be expecting them to strike as soon as possible, knowing they were desperate to escape. 

The other two wouldn’t be any good standing their ground. Gaz couldn’t walk, and Price wouldn’t be able to shoot accurately. This was her family. Her teammates, yes, but she loved Gaz like an annoying little brother, and Price...

Well, he may be her Captain, but at the end of the day, he’s also her husband.

The decision comes without any hesitation. Grabbing her rifle, she checks her ammo and reloads, the clinking of the bullets catching the attention of the other two. She checks her knives, feeling their gazes on her, and when she finally straightens up and catches Price’s narrowed gaze, she knows he’s figured out her plan of action. 

“You’re not to act without orders, sergeant.” He says, low and authoritative. It’s his Captain voice, the one she and the others obey without question on the field. 

This is the first time she’s chosen to disobey it. 

“We don’t have a choice.” She says, slinging her pistol into its holster. “I’m the only one not out of commission. I can clear the roof, buy you some time at least.”

Gaz goes to interrupt but her husband beats her to it. 

“Stand down, Sergeant.” He orders, knuckles white around the shelf he’s gripping.

“Negative, Captain.” She responds calmly. 

“I’m giving you a direct order-”

“Yes.” She cuts him off. “I’ll get the evac team in, they’ll send backup.” 

“Sergeant-!“ There’s a hint of something other than his stoic command when she approaches the door, something akin to alarm and worry. Even Gaz snaps his head to look at the Captain. 

“Price. Gaz.” She nods to each of them in turn, then gives Price one last look. Her rough, professional exterior cracks for a moment, the sad but determined smile she offers him might be the last one he sees, and the thought makes his heart plummet hard. “I’m glad to have worked with you.” She turns to John. “Love you.” 

He abandons her title and calls out her name angrily instead, pushing off the wall to march towards her. She knows he’s going to grab her, force her to stay and think of something else if he caught her. Hell, he might even decide to go out there instead of her and that was simply unacceptable. She slips out the door, slams it shut and bolts it closed from the outside, trapping them in. 

Two pairs of arms pound on the door, two muffled voices call out her name, one frantic, the other fearful and angry.

She leaves them behind, extracting a frag grenade from her belt. Stealth was one of her specialties, and even more so now that she’s working alone. Slinking back, keeping to the shadows, she finds her way to the staircase leading to the roof. Cracking open the door, she peers out to assess the situation. 

Counting 15 men, armed and alert, she takes a deep breath, pulls the pin out of the grenade, throwing it out. 

The moment it explodes, she throws open the door, takes three men out, and dives for cover behind a stack of sandbags. Men bark out shouts and orders, bullets rain around her. Another grenade sails over the bags, taking out a handful of them.

Hauling herself over the bags, she shoots down a few more of them, lunging to change covers. 

A sharp pain stings straight through her forearm. 

Another one through her right calf. 

Biting back a cry, she situates herself behind the second stack of sandbags. Less than half the men left. She could do it. She wasn’t doing this for herself. She was doing this for Gaz.

She was doing this for Price. For her husband. 

The person who loved staying in bed with her on their off days, the man that treated her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Price was someone she would never find again, and she was grateful for every moment they spent together. In bed lazy, taking a walk outside, lounging around at the beach, cuddling on the couch. Every moment with him was special, and she would not, she could not let him die like this. 

Trapped in a fucking setup. 

Summoning up the will, she throws her last grenade and opens fire, dropping man after man. Bullets scrape across her skin but she barely feels them. 

She aims for the last man, the roof bloodied with corpses when he throws down a smokescreen. Eyes watering, she coughs, moving to get out of the cloud, when she feels an arm lock around her neck. 

The man snarls, grabbing her in a headlock and squeezing. She chokes, scratches at his arms but his grip is relentless. Dark spots dot her vision, and she can feel her thoughts slip away. 

‘Clear your head’ John would have told her. ‘No situation is inescapable, you just need to figure out the routes to escape.’

Escape. Get the evac team in. She was so close. 

She reaches down and grabs at her legs until her hand curls around the last knife she has tucked away. Yanking it out, she jams it into the man’s arm and shoves him away, stumbling to increase the distance between them.

Cursing, the soldier points his gun at her with a sneer, hatred clear on his face. Unarmed, she looks for a weapon; her gun had been dropped in the struggle. 

There’s a beat of silence where neither of them move, then the soldier bark out a laugh and pressed the trigger. 

The bang makes her flinch as she ducks, preparing for the incoming second shot that would take her out. 

Nothing comes. 

Nothing but the thump of a body and arms pulling her up to her feet with an exclamation of her name. She starts to put up a fight, but then realises that the hands that hold her do not hurt, but are familiar and warm. 

“I’ve got you.” A smooth, gravelly voice. “Easy does it.” 

“John?” She gasps out. Over his shoulder, Gaz limps in on the scene, declaring it clear. A hand pressed to his ear, contacting the evac team via comms.

Now that the adrenaline starts to ebb away, she feels the full effects of her decision hitting her hard. She’s bleeding from a lot of places. 

Her cheek, her calf, her forearm, the side of her stomach. Scraped and bruised, still gasping for oxygen from being choked. God, she just knows there are going to be bruises around her throat tomorrow by how sore it is. 

Her knees buckle, but Price catches her, lowering them both to the ground. “I’ve got you, love.” He mutters, laying her down and looking her head to toe to chart her injuries. “Bloody hell.” He curses at her state. “What the hell were you thinking? Took us ages to break outta that goddamn room.” He snaps, glaring down at her. Among the anger, she can see worry and panic swimming in those eyes of his. 

“Needed to get the roof clear.” She breathes out, clutching onto his wrist. “Did it, didn’t I?” A weak laugh that Price does not find amusing at all. 

“We need a medic!” He yells over his shoulder to Gaz, who nods and relays the information over. “We’re talking about your actions later.” He informs her firmly, eyebrows drawn tightly together. “But you’re alright for now. You’re gonna be fine, you hear me?”

All she can bare to do is nod, squeezing her eyes shut, her entire body hurts and-

“Shit, ouch.” She hisses through her teeth, eyes flying open. “Did you just pinch me?” She says incredulously.

“I need you to stay awake, love.” Price says firmly. “Eyes on me, yeah? Keep talking. Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

“Is that an order, Captain?” She tries a weak smile. 

“It’s one you’ll listen to, that’s for fucking sure.” His grumble pulls out a small laugh from her. She doesn’t have to wait long, it seems because the humming noise of the chopper fills the air soon enough, the evac team lands safely on the roof. A swarm of people rushes out of the chopper towards them. 

The three of them are loaded onto the helicopter, medics on them, shouting to each other and measuring out syringes of medicine. 

Price looks at her the entire time, watching her as if she might disappear again. She knows she’ll get a talking to when they land, a harder one from her Captain, and a more worried one from her husband, but she can’t bring herself to care. 

They were all alive. 

Price could berate her as much as possible, she’d never regret saving their lives, even if it had meant trading her own. 

Requests Are Open!

(17/06/2023)

[mockerycrow]

I'm so happy you write for Farah!!! Could I request some relationship and kiss hcs pretty please🙏🏻

Farah Karim Kiss Headcanons

farah karim masterlist

I think Farah is definitely someone who takes her time in kisses—she knows your life can be taken away within seconds and she wants to hold every moment she has with you dear to her.

She cups your cheek and gently presses her lips to yours, delicate and loving. Farah always kisses the space between your eyebrows too when she has to leave.

I don’t think she is too big on PDA; she’s a leader and she has to do her job, but that doesn’t stop her from passing loving glances your way. She also doesn’t want to risk someone finding out about your relationship so they can use you to get to her.

Farah’s kisses are always deep and full of love, so if you’re getting intimate, fully expect her to fill all of your senses.

She’s the type to chuckle in a kiss, and she just can never get enough of you. She makes the softest and quietest noises, ones that slip out because Farah isn’t focused on her voice, she’s focused on you.

Farah likes to hold pinkies. She finds it a bit embarrassing, but she finds comfort in it—especially if you bring her hand up to your mouth and you kiss her palm. Farah loves you with her entire soul and shows it through every gentle kiss.

[thoughtsandbones]

A cranium full of tea and coffee

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Cafe Reader

Synopsis: Ghost takes a trip to a cafe out of town and meets a curious young lady and bond over books.

Warnings: Fluff basically, slightly OOC Ghost.

Song inspo: Baba O' Riley - The Who, Asleep - The Smith, With You - AP Dhillon, Wise Enough - Lamb and Excuses - AP Dhillon

A/N: (Discovered AP Dhillon a few weeks ago, because I have a bad habit of listening to songs/bands I already know...) SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL COFFEE SHOPS!!

(Reader is wearing glasses cos who doesn't love glasses...? Also I assume my reader is South Asian because there is a lack of South Asian representation for COD fanfics sorry not sorry)

MASTERLIST

It was quiet rainy Thursday afternoon in the the small town centre of Maidsfield. Ghost had the next seven days off and he was already bored out of his mind in his flat in London that he decided to take a train to a nearby town centre, Maidsfield, on the outskirts of London.

As he sat on the train he pulled out a book from his rucksack, flicking through the pages. His firm fingers ran over the bumps of the illustration on his new hardback copy of Stephen King's Salem's Lot.

Ghost hated the hustle and bustle of London cafes. All full of business folk, rushing in and out, talking too loudly on their mobiles, hosting noisy meetings next to him.

Office folk should stick to the office he remarked to himself the one and only time he went to a chain cafe in central London when a bunch suits sat next to him cackling over their espressos. When he looked up from his book he caught one the suits staring at him, giving him an odd look. Of course Ghost was wearing his signature skull balaclava, which often meant every day folks staring at him with odd looks.

Ghost returned the book in his backpack and sighed heavily, hitting his head back on the headrest of his seat. The carriage he sat in was virtually empty. He looked behind him as the train pulled to a stop and the other passenger got off. Ghost took this opportunity to go the toilet and switch from his regular skull balaclava to a black face mask the covered his nose and mouth, leaving the top of his head bare.

Before placing the mask on, Simon quickly brushed out his messy light brown hair so it was somewhat neat. He didn't wear any black paint today, partially because he forget his standard paint at base and also thought he'd give his skin a break today. Giving a final glance at himself in the small mirror he sighed again and raised his eyebrow at his reflection.

Simon left the toilet, and swung his backpack over his right shoulder, and stood by the doors as the train reached his stop. When the doors opened, he stepped out and pulled up his hoodie to combat the rain.

Walking out the station, Simon stood momentarily to the side. He realised he had to no idea where he was going in this new town. This was quite unusual for Simon, always a man prepared for anything and everything, especially on the battlefield. But this was not the battlefield. For the next seven days he had to acclimatise to civilian life.

Coffee shop sprung into his mind at last, and he walked down the road past various hurrying from shop to shop, trying to shield themselves from the onslaught of rain that came battering down.

Simon didn't mind the rain, he was strangely comforting to him, but as it became heavier he soon realised he had to find refuge in a warm cafe.

A chain coffee shop was just on his right, Simon glanced into the shop and saw that it was very busy, partially full of suits.

Fuck chain coffee shops he thought and walked on down further into the town. Simon was determined to find a small cafe that was not too busy.

Turning right down a small alleyway, Simon walked down the cobblestones pathway and noticed a coffee shop that drew him in instantly, Cerebrum Coffee Potions, which had a logo underneath of a white skull with a snake wrapped around the base.

Simon walked in and saw that it was virtually empty

"Afternoon!" Said the lady behind the counter who working behind the coffee machine

"Afternoo'" Simon said, shaking off the rain that drenched his jacket.

He noticed on the side a winding staircase that led upstairs. He took in the cafe, the various gothic art in black frames and antique tables and chairs adorned the bottom floor.

"Bit wet outside?" The lady said laughing slightly at Simon's drenched jacket and hood that covered his damp hair.

"Just a bit" Simon said, forcing a chuckle moving over to the till, gazing at the menu behind.

"What can I get you?" the lady said wiping her hands on her apron.

"Tea, Earl Grey please" He said and the lady typed away on the tablet. Simon gazed again at the winding staircase.

"There's space upstairs if you'd life" The lady said, noticing Simon's wondering eyes.

"Cheers" He said, returning to look at the total amount on the card machine.

"That's £2.30 please" She said, Simon pulled out his card and tapped it against the machine.

"Wonderful, I'll bring it up to" She said

"Thanks" Simon said, and made his way up the staircase, the walls were also decorated with more artwork of various skulls, both human and animal, woven with flowers or snakes.

As Simon reached the first floor, he noticed a younger woman, wearing a black hoodie, blue jeans with bright pink boots, sitting in the corner typing away on her laptop. Tortoise shell glasses framed your face that moved as your scrunched your nose. You looked up at Simon, who moved to the table in the opposite corner.

You smiled briefly as you locked eyes with him, Simon nodded back as he took a seat. Returning to typing, Simon pulled out his book and placed it on the table as he took his wet jacket off and placed it on the chair next time.

His eyes wondered at the antique coffee machine opposite him, serving as a condiment table. So far, he felt comfortable and relaxed compared to the chain coffee shops that had previously been in.

The barista came up the stairs holding a tray and placed it on the table where Simon sat.

"Anything else I can get you?" She asked him

"No, all good thanks" Simon said, moving the tray close to him and taking the black teapot, white teacup and saucer off and setting it to the side.

The barista smiled and walked over to the other lady in the corner.

"R/n, how's the report going?" She asked

You looked up with a disappointed look, pouting your full lips at the barista.

"Awful Jane" You sighed "Only so many times I can say experiment didn't work out well due to lack of time" You continued

"Awh, well I'm sure your supervisor will understand" Jane replied giving a smile.

"Hmm, hope so" You said smiling before returning to her laptop.

Simon watched as the barista walked back down the winding stairs, before pouring his tea in the cup, where he noticed there was also a skull embossed in black on the side.

I like this place so far Simon thought to himself as he poured the tea into his cup, placing one sugar cube, taking the vintage spoon stirring the hot dark amber liquid before adding a dash of milk.

He gazed at the lady in the corner again, who was making funny faces at her laptop as she typed with fervor, leaning closer and closer to her screen.

After he was sure that she wouldn't look, Simon took off his mask and took a sip of his tea. The taste of bergamont slid over his tongue, mixed with the sweetness of sugar. The warmth soothed his cold shoulders as he took another sip.

"Ahhh" Simon moaned aloud, he looked up briefly to see if you had noticed, yet you were still typing away, one eyebrow raised and only inches away from the screen of your laptop. Stopping momentarily, you rest your head on your left hand, with your pinky finger you slide your glasses up your nose bridge.

A part of him wanted to say 'Any closer and you'd be in your laptop' but he held his tongue. He opened his book and began re-reading the first chapter of his new hardback.

You sighed heavily and withdrew from your laptop, you leant so far back that your head hit the white brick wall behind you. Your skull bounced softly. Confusion struck you. You hit your head again on the white brick wall, and your skull bounced again.

Simon looked up curiously as you repeated the move, eyes bewildered as you knocked your head again.

Why is the wall so soft? You thought, whacking your head a bit harder this time, and then repeated the motion a few more times, staring blankly at the red walls in front of you. Withdrawing your hands from the keyboard of the laptop you touch the brick wall, as you pressed against it, felt it was soft slightly.

Of course it's a fake brick wall... You conclude, bouncing your skull again. You look over at the man in the corner, who was staring at you with his bright blue eyes in confusion. Your eyes widened as you realised you were not alone... The man in the corner had locked his eyes on you, you noticed his

"Ah sorry" You laugh nervously "It's a fake brick wall" you add smiling at him and touching and pointing to the wall behind you.

Simon was taken aback by that smile, that showed dimples in your cheeks.

"S'alrigh'" He said before returning to his book, smiling under his mask. Returning his focus back to the book, but his eyes flickered back to you.

Picking up the cup, Simon took another sip, taking pleasure in the sweet hot tea, he turned the pages of his book, fingers tracing the edges of the next page as he read on.

You got up from your table and went downstairs, grabbing another coffee from Jane. As you made you way up the stairs, you noticed that the man was reading a Stephen King book from the bold font on the spine.

"Stephen King fan huh?" You blurt as you caught eyes with the man again.

Simon cleared his throat "Yeah" he said closing the book, showing the cover.

"Salem's Lot!" You say grinning at him "I like Carrie, got a signed copy when he came into town last year at Page Stoner"

Simon leaned back in his chair, wonder captivated him.

Finally, someone who also likes Stephen King he thought, reminiscing the time he tried to get Johnny to read this book, but refused stating he hated anything to do with horror.

"Carrie is a good one" he said moving his hand from the table and resting it on the edge of the empty wooden chair next to him.

"Did you go to Page Stoner to see him?" You asked, taking a sip of coffee, still standing near his table.

Simon was confused, Page Stoner?

"Ergh no, I'm not from here" He said

"Ahhh" You sigh, "Where do you hail from then?"

"London" Simon said, not telling the whole truth "Wanna sit down?" He added motioning to the chair opposite him.

"Sure" You said smiling, setting down your coffee on his table "Let me just pack my things" You said, realising that you left your stuff unattended.

Simon watch you sit in the chair opposite, taking another sip of coffee.

"What's your name?" You ask

"Simon" He replied

"Nice, I'm R/n" you say, smiling again brightly

"Nice to meet you R/n" Simon said, admiring the dimples in your cheeks.

"So what do you do for a living?" You ask

Simon looked down at his half empty cup. He knew this was dangerous territory and didn't want to give too much away.

"Army" He said, blue eyes meeting yours.

"Ahh, Royal Marine?" You guess, judging by his muscular and tall build.

"Can't say" He murmured, taking his mask off, so he could take another sip of his tea.

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to pry" You said, looking down at your cup of coffee, briefly looking at his face, you saw a glimpse of several scars over his lower jaw and over his nose.

"It's okay" Simon replied "How about you?" He asked placing his mask back on.

"Student, studying a masters in chemistry at UCL" you say "But I live here, commute to university"

"Nice" Simon said, looking down at his cup, observing you as you took another sip.

"How's your tea?" You ask

"Best Early grey I've had" Simon chuckled, tapping the edge of his cup with his right hand.

"This coffee shop is great. Better than those shitty chain stores"

"Indeed" Simon agreed with you.

"You like any other Stephen King books?" He asked, clearing his throat again.

"Yeah, I love IT and The Shining" You say, remembering you had a copy of The Shining in your bag, pulling it out to show Simon.

Simon took ahold of the book, flicking through the worn pages, clearly read many times.

"Didn't get this signed then?" He said, opening the first page of the book.

"Nah, was only allowed to get one copy signed..." You said remembering the look on Stephen King's face when you brought five of his books with you to the signing.

"Did you try and get more than one book signed?" Simon asked, grinning under his mask.

"Yeah..." You said, guilt flooded your face, cheeks turning slightly pink.

The rain outside pounded against the window where they sat, you look out, eyes trailing the raindrops running down the glass. Thunder bellowed outside. Perfect weather to be inside.

"Good thing you settled with Carrie" He said, setting his eyes again on you.

"Hmm" You smile in agreement

"I haven't read The Shining..." Simon started, staring back down at your copy, running his forefinger against the creases of the worn spine.

A grin appeared on your face as your eyes met. Simon saw your deep doe eyes glisten slightly.

Was this guy flirting..? You ponder,

"I haven't read Salem's Lot.." You replied, grinning mischievously.

"Want to do a swap?" Simon suggested

What are you doin'? A little voice spoke up in his head

"I'd love to" You say beaming at him.

Simon took in your big smile, that it made your dimples even deeper which caused a warmth to spread across his chest.

"Any chance you have a pen?" He said without thinking

Don't do it the little voice whispered again in his head

"Sure" You say, reaching for you rucksack, and taking out a pen from the outside pocket and handing it to Simon.

Simon grabbed a clean napkin from the tray and wrote his number down, his fingers went numb slightly as he hurriedly finished the last four digits.

"If you're in London the next few days, we should meet up" He said, handing the napkin over to you.

Taking the napkin, you fingers graze his for a moment, Simon ran his fingers against yours, a sharp zing simmered from his fingertips, up his arm to his chest, he quickly retracted his hand before temptation grew to hold your hand in its entirety.

The stairs creaked as Jane the barista came up, stopping just at the top.

"Sorry, guys, I'm about to close" She said

"Ah shit, it's 4:30 already?" You say bewildered checking your watch.

"Yep, times flies eh!" Jane said as she made her way back down.

Both you and Simon began to pack your belongings, Simon handed Salem's Lot over to you, and he placed your copy of The Shining in his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"You heading home now?" You ask

"Yeah, train station actually." He replied

You nod at him and then peer out the window, it was still raining. You notice his jacket was slightly damp still. Your heart fluttered a bit, as you thought about offering to walk with him... He seemed so enticing and it was actually great to meet another avid reader of Stephen King.

Pulling out an umbrella from your backpack you hold out to Simon

"Think you might need this" laughing slightly as you motion to his damp jacket with the umbrella

Simon chuckled and moved closer to you, peering down at your slim frame and then looked out at the ever persistent rain outside.

"Think we both need it" He said raising his left eyebrow and then motioned with his head.

"Guess we'll have to share it then" You say smiling

"I'd like that" Simon said, gesturing you to go first down the stairs.

Once outside, you opened the umbrella, Simon took ahold of it, placing his hand briefly on your back as you both walked away from the coffee shop. You were quite surprised at how tall he actually was when you stood beside him. Together you walked down the wet cobblestones towards the train station.

Simon looked down at you and smiled under his mask. Today, he was grateful that he hated chain coffee shops, because it meant he met someone sweet like you.

[dontyouworrydaddy]

H A V E I T O L D Y O U T H A T I L O V E Y O U

John Price x gn! reader

summary: sometimes John thinks he doesn’t remind you often how much he loves you.

warning: none just pure fluff

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The rain poured relentlessly outside, painting the world in shades of gray. In the dimly lit room John sat alone, memories swirling in his mind like a tempestuous storm. He traced the edges of an old photograph, its corners worn with time. It captured a moment frozen in the depths of his heart—a moment with you.

As the raindrops tapped against the windowpane, a flood of emotions overwhelmed John. He remembered the countless battles you had fought side by side, the shared laughter amidst the chaos, and the unspoken understanding that forged a bond between you. But there was something else—a confession that had remained unspoken, buried beneath layers of duty and sacrifice.

John's weathered face revealed the weight of his past, the scars both visible and invisible that marked his journey. He had witnessed the fragility of life, the ephemeral nature of existence. And in the face of such uncertainty, he had hesitated to voice his deepest emotions, fearing that they would be swept away like ashes in the wind.

But on this rainy night, with the echoes of distant thunder resonating in the air, John made a silent promise to himself. He couldn't let fear or regret hold him back any longer. He had to seize the moment, to let you know how much you meant to him.

As the storm raged outside, John sought solace in the memories that had shaped his heart. He recalled the times when your laughter had pierced through the darkness, bringing warmth and light to his world. He remembered the quiet moments, stolen glances and stolen breaths, where his heart had whispered your name in the stillness.

Taking a deep breath, John sought you out, finding you in a quiet corner of the safehouse. Your eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and warmth, met his, and for a moment, the world stood still. In that instant, he realized that he couldn't wait any longer, couldn't keep his feelings buried beneath the weight of duty.

"Hey," he began, his voice laced with vulnerability. "I know I don't say it often enough, but you mean the world to me. You're the anchor in the storm, the light in the darkness. I love you, more than words can ever convey."

A hushed silence enveloped the room, the raindrops outside seemingly holding their breath. You blinked, your expression a beautiful mixture of surprise and joy. And then, a smile bloomed on your lips, radiant as a sunbeam breaking through the clouds.

"John," you whispered, your voice filled with tenderness. "I love you too. And I've always known, even without the words."

In that moment, the weight that had burdened John's heart lifted, replaced by a sense of liberation and clarity. He realized that love didn't always require grand gestures or flowery declarations—it thrived in the simplest of moments, in the unspoken gestures and shared experiences.

As the rain continued to dance upon the roof, John pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. He reveled in the warmth of your presence, cherishing the love that enveloped them both. In the safety of each other's arms, you found solace from the storm, knowing that love, once expressed, could weather any tempest.

And as the raindrops tapped against the windowpane, a symphony of your love played in your hearts—a testament to the power of vulnerability and the beauty of a love that had endured, despite the odds.

In that moment, as they stood united against the world's uncertainties, John and you, his beloved, found solace in knowing that their love would forever be a shelter in the storm—a haven of strength, resilience, and unwavering devotion.

[dmitriene]

ᴄᴏᴡʙᴏʏ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ.

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚓𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚡 𝚐𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝, 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜, 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜. 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚋𝚘𝚢, 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚑𝚎𝚢𝚢! 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 «𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 — 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚘𝚖» 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎.

ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ)

᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌«in the white room with black curtains near the station»

᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌«black roof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings»

᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌«silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes»

᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ «dawn light smiles on you leaving, my contentment»

In 1875, the American West was a land of stark beauty and harsh reality, a time when cowboys and outlaws roamed the vast plains, lawlessness ran rampant in the streets of towns and cities alike, the dry air was filled with tension and unpredictability, danger lurked beyond every corner.

The streets were often shrouded in shadow, illuminated only by the flickering light of gas lamps that cast eerie dancing shadows on the wooden sidewalks.

The streets were lined with buildings with black roofs and weathered facades, their paint peeling and faded from years of exposure to the unrelenting sun and harsh winds, the city's wooden structures a testament to endurance, just like the people who inhabited them.

In this unforgiving landscape, theft and murder were as common as tumbleweeds rolling through the deserted streets, lawmen were few and those who dared to stand up for justice often met a violent death at the hands of ruthless criminals, the air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder, a constant reminder of the violence that hung in the air like a storm cloud.

And then there was Captain John Price, a man who defied the stereotype of the rugged cowboy, he was a tall figure, his broad shoulders and weathered face gave him the appearance of a bear in human skin, however, underneath that imposing exterior John had a heart of gold, which distinguished him from the lawless people who roamed the West.

Unlike many others, John never touched innocent people, he was known for his unwavering commitment to protecting the vulnerable and ensuring justice, he had a reputation for helping in any way he could, whether it was protecting the estate from marauding bandits or nursing wounded traveler.

John Price had a unique set of skills that made him a formidable force in the lawless West, he had a keen eye for danger, an uncanny ability to predict the most treacherous situations before they unfolded, as if he could read the heartbeat of a city, knowing when it was brewing trouble, and intervene to defuse it before it escalates into violence.

The people of the town respected John greatly, to them he was more than just a protector — he was a symbol of hope in a lawless land, they trusted him unconditionally and knew that while Captain John Price was around, a glimmer of civilization burned among the chaos.

His connection to the townspeople was deep, he knew everyone intimately, their names, their stories and their struggles, he was a confidant, a shoulder to lean on, and a beacon of kindness in a world that was often brutal.

The tired looks etched on the townspeople's faces softened momentarily when they saw John, as he brought with him a sense of security and confidence.

In a place where the line between good and evil was blurred, John Price remained an unshakable pillar of morality, he was living proof that even in the harshest conditions good could flourish, his mere presence was a reminder that kindness and compassion were not completely lost in a world overrun by criminals and the desperate.

John moved through the dusty streets and his steps were purposeful, he was a protector, a guardian angel of sorts, and the people of the city knew that as long as Captain John Price was on their side, they had a chance to fight the lawlessness that was sweeping the West.

The evening was one of those typical Wild West nights where the air was full of tension and the tavern was filled with the clinking of glasses, raucous laughter and the occasional gunshot from outside.

John, known far and wide for his imposing presence and kind heart, made his way to his favorite tavern, an establishment located near the train station that was a refuge amid the chaos.

When he entered the atmosphere changed slightly, the locals immediately recognized him and nodded respectfully, making way for a tall cowboy with broad shoulders and a rugged appearance, John was a regular here, being both feared and admired, his reputation as a protector was well known and earned him the respect of many.

However, that evening everything was different.

His sharp eyes scanned the dimly lit room and settled on a face that seemed completely out of place in this rough and chaotic environment.

It was your face, framed by soft, demure features and an expression that hinted at innocence, the atmosphere seemed to freeze as if the room itself had paused to notice your presence.

John watched you from afar, intrigued and somewhat puzzled by your appearance, you sat alone at the corner table, your posture prim and proper, your hands folded neatly in your lap, your outfit, although modest, spoke of sophistication and contrasted sharply with the dusty boots and weather beaten hats of regular visitors, you were like a delicate flower among the thorns, too gentle and well mannered for the harsh world of the Wild West.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, John walked over to your desk.

He approached with the same measured gait he used in dangerous situations, his boots echoing on the creaking wooden floor as he cleared his throat as he stood in front of you, his presence casting a shadow on your desk.

— «Good evening» he greeted in a deep, raspy voice that resonated with authority — «Mind if I join you for a spell?»

You looked up, surprise in your eyes, as if you weren’t expecting anyone to approach you in this establishment.

You nodded politely, pointing to the empty chair opposite you — «Of course, sir, please take a seat»

John settled into his chair, studying you intently with his piercing blue eyes — «You're not from around here, are ya?» he asked, suspicion evident in his tone — in a country where trust was a scarce commodity, newcomers often drew scrutiny.

You smiled slightly, your demeanor was calm and collected — «No, sir, i'm not, i'm just passing through»

John's initial hostility began to subside as he continued the conversation — «Passing through, you say? What brings you to this part of the world?»

You explained that you were there to help your father with his business, which led to John's demeanor softening a bit, the idea of family and duty resonating deeply with him and he found himself letting his guard down a bit.

As the evening unfolded, you and John talked, he discovered that you came from a bustling city, far from the border, a place of sophistication and politeness, the thought of a city dweller going into the lawless wild west puzzled him, but he didn't could deny the intrigue I felt.

The rowdy tavern patrons continued to party around you, but inside the little bubble you and John had created, the world seemed to disappear, captivated by your stories of city life and the difficulties you had to face adapting to the harsh conditions of the West, your gentleness and good manners provided a refreshing contrast to the rude characters who frequented the tavern.

As the night wore on, John couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness towards you.

He may have been wary of your presence at first, but he realized that underneath the veneer of sophistication, you were just a traveler finding his way in a harsh and unforgiving world, and for the first time in a long time, John felt a glimmer of hope that among the lawlessness he had found something , something that is worth protecting.

As the weeks passed, it seemed like your first meeting with John was supposed to be nothing more than a chance meeting, but fate had other plans — it wove a story that brought you and the cowboy together like two stars in the night sky.

The atmosphere of your growing bond was like a slow burning fire in the heart of the Wild West, keeping you both warm on cold, deserted nights.

Your meetings became more frequent, as if the universe was conspiring to bring you together, John couldn't help but be drawn to you, his stern appearance contrasting with your soft demeanor.

On your bad days he was a comforting presence, offering a strong shoulder to lean on, a calming voice in the chaos of the city, on your good days he was there to share in your joys, his deep laughter mingling with your own.

You often walked together along the dusty streets, his broad body casting a protective shadow over you, his calloused hand resting gently on the small of your back — a quiet but powerful gesture that let the world know that you were under his care, the townspeople noticed this, and some exchanged knowing glances, realizing that the unapproachable cowboy had found something special in you.

The days turned into weeks and John couldn't deny the growing affection in his heart, he found himself sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren't looking, his eyes softened with a warmth that wasn't there before, he'd seen his fair share dangers and hardships in the unforgiving West, but nothing prepared him for the vulnerability and tenderness he felt when he was with you.

But he knew the harsh reality that loomed on the horizon, you were passing through, your journey was related to the affairs of your father, and soon you would have to say goodbye, the thought of losing you weighed heavily on John's heart and he silently struggled with his emotions.

The day of your departure finally arrived and John walked you to the station, his stern exterior masked the turmoil inside as he watched you prepare to board the train, he knew this might be the last time he would see you and it pierced him like a merciless desert wind.

When you boarded the train, he felt a sense of desperation, unable to let you go without expressing what was growing inside him.

In a sudden impulsive movement, he reached out and yanked you back onto the platform, just as the train began to move.

His voice was rough with emotion as he poured out his feelings — «I can't let you go without telling you how i feel» he admitted, looking into your eyes — «I've never met someone like you and i don't want to say goodbye, i want to kiss you, hug you and see ya every day, not just in my dreams»

In that exciting moment you didn't hesitate, with fierce determination you grabbed him by the neck, pulling him into a quick, messy kiss that made sparks fly between you, the kiss was filled with passion and longing that grew between you, the promise of the connection you both shared.

As the train started moving again, you hurriedly shoved a piece of paper into John's hand, your eyes met and you nodded, silently urging him to read the sheet, letting him know that you were prepared for this situation.

There were only couple of words on the piece of paper, but they carried a huge meaning for him.

«Find me, John, i'll wait for you»

John watched the train carry you away with a fire burning in his heart, he promised himself that he would find you, because cowboys were known for their unwavering dedication to their goals.

The address you left became a beacon of hope for him, and he was determined to embark on a new journey that would lead him to you and the possibility of a love that could challenge the soul oppressing Wild West.

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthea dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist.

© dmitriene - my masterlist or ao3

please, don't copy my works as your own, and if you want to post them somewhere else - contact me.

reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

[0funkyducky0]

✧˖° - Modern Warfare 💥💣🧨

𐐪𐑂 Captain John Price

𐐪𐑂 Simon "Ghost" Riley

𐐪𐑂 John "Soap" MacTavish

𐐪𐑂 Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

𐐪𐑂 Alejandro Vargas

𐐪𐑂 Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

𐐪𐑂 König

𐐪𐑂 Phillip Graves

𐐪𐑂 Valeria Garza

[gravesshoe]

Help why does he look so cunty- look at his pout omfg

[rainswriting-blog]

My Savior

Warning(s): fm!reader, mentions of kidnapping, slight non-con (not gaz doing it), love making, cuddling, describing male marks, vaginal penetration,

Summary: Reader was kidnapped and saved by Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. What will happen between them? Find our by clicking readmore.

WC: 592

A/N: I love Gaz so much. I my eyes, he's a sweetheart that just wants to show you his love.

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

Gaz is this the best husband you could ever ask for he saved your life five years ago to this day. You owe your life to him after he found you chained up after being drugged and kidnapped by a few men at a bar you were at with your friends, you were transported to Mexico.

It was six months when someone came to your rescue, you were found unshower, beaten, and drugged for months as these cartel men took advantage of you.

You thought you would never see the light of day again, you thought that they were going to kill you after they got tired of you.

To this day, you thought you could never trust another man after being rescued by the most gentle and kind man named Kyle Garrick. He was there throughout your recovery journey taking you to and back home.

At the end of the day he was your savor.

The moment Gaz realized he fell in love with you was the day you asked him to cuddle before he popped the question of you wanting to be his girlfriend and the second time was when he proposed to you. You were having a bad day where you couldn't handle it on your own, so Gaz being so kind he stepped in to comfort you.

That day you fell asleep in his arms as he soothed you by running his fingers through your hair as he quietly watched you sleep peacefully for the first time in months.

The second time he fell in love with you was the first time he made love to you. Gaz made sure it was romantic. He lit candles and threw rose petals on the floor and bed.

He asks permission to touch you and you have him the go ahead. He took his time going down on you, licking your clit nice and slow as well as inserting his middle finger inside your wet hole, hitting the right spot each time making you moan out his name.

He made sure you were properly prepared before he slid his not so average cock inside of you. As soon as you cummed, he asked "are you ready, darling?"

You say back," I'm more than ready, gaz, I-I've been wanting you since the day you rescued me," As you bite your lip looking up at him with your doe eyes as his dog tags swung in your face.

Gaz places an open mouth kiss on your lips, and slowly slides into your heat as you moan in his mouth and dig your nails into his back. Gaz moan with you from out tight you were that made him go over the edge in bliss.

"You feel so good, y/n," he says.

All you did was moan back as he slowly thrusted in and out of you feel euphoric pleasure that you haven't felt in months.

You squeak out, "I-I'm cumming," as you feel the knot in your stomach you look up at Gaz gripping the bed sheets underneath you as well as Gaz's forearm.

"That's it darling let it all come out," he tells you in a whispering voice.

"Let's cum together, darling," he says. You both moan as Gaz continues to thrust into you as he shoots his seed inside of you. He slowly pulls out of you watching the cum dripping out of you and onto the sheet below.

Gaz was the king of aftercare, he gets a warm damp towel to wipe you clean and gives you cuddles after.

Taglist 🏷

None

© 2022-2024 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴-𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴 do not copy, modify, translate, or repost any content posted to this blog or claim as your own on any platform.

[nia-writes]

Headcannons of Jealous and possessive Ghost and Konig 😙😙

Please include:

1. What they would say/do to the other person if they were flirting with you

2. What they would say/do to you if you were being flirted with

3. Smut HC for jealous angry fucking hehe

4. Would they apologise for being possessive and jealous

Thank you

Hi~ I absolutely love this request! Thank you for sending it <3 I got a bit carried away~ also I’m just learning to write smut so please don’t judge too hard

Minors DNI!! 18+

A/N: female reader! NSFW, rough sex, the boys being mean, fingering, choking let me know if I missed any a little OOC Konig?

My requests are open~~

Ghosty~

Gimme jealous Ghost-

You’re at the bar with the 141, after successful mission

Of course, Johnny, Gaz and yourself were having a drinking competition- while Price gives his disappointed dad stare.

Simon’s eyes never left you, each passing second he was growing more and more possessive.

He hated the way his other teammates touched you, even though it’s innocent. The way Johnny playfully nudges you, or when Gaz rests his arm on your shoulder.

He knew it was innocent- but he couldn’t stop the growing jealousy in his chest.

You lost a game of cards, it’s your turn to buy some drinks. As you got up from your seat, you ruffled Johnny’s mohawk, Simon growled at that, his mask muffled the noise.

As you wait by the bar, playing with your necklace, a man slips himself next to you. He was friendly- funny, a bit flirty but you shot him down immediately.

Simon was not happy. He grew possessive, his eyes flashed red as he got up from his seat, dashing his way to you.

You noticed him and smiled- telling the other man "This is my boyfriend!" Super proud to call him that.

But Simon was already in a fit of jealousy and possessiveness, and before you knew it, he wrapped his shoulders around you, leading you out the bar.

Before he does, he shoots a nasty glare at the man, causing him to leave.

Your eyes widen in surprise, as you glance over at him. "Everything ok, big boy?” You asked, your anxiety only growing as he stays silent.

Simon opened the car door, waiting for you to enter. You give him one last glance before entering, when you did, he slammed the door shut.

The car ride home was silent, not even the sounds of your breathing can be heard. You try to lighten up the mood up a bit, "Is this your new way of talking?” You joked, lightly touching his arm.

"Do you like it when other men touch you?"

This caught you off guard- your eyes widen as your mouth parts. Your brain malfunctions as you try to process his words.

"I- what? No! You know I only want you to!" You reassured, but Simon clicks his tongue.

"Didn’t seem that way, little one."

"Simon? What are you talking about?” It then clicked for you, "Oh! The guy at the bar? He- that was innocent, I swear. I shot him down so quick!" You defended.

Simon stays quiet- and you knew he was jealous.

Once you’re home, he wastes no time in coming to your side, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you over his shoulder. You yelp in surprise, as he harshly smacks your ass.

He doesn’t make it past the door before he’s on you, shoving you against the closed door. His hands trail between your legs, slipping a finger in your panties. "Wet already? Knew it, dirty slut" he growled in your ear.

Before you can respond, he’s turned you around- your front pressed against the door. You hear his belt buckle behind you, your panties get ripped off, before he presses himself to you.

"I’m gonna be rough, baby" he warned, rubbing himself against you.

Simon fucks all his jealousy out on you, over and over again. He won’t play with your clit- doesn’t let you either. He has your hands above your head, fucking you with so much force the door rattles. "You’re going to cum from only my cock"

"Bet you’re thinking of that fucker, aren’t you?" He said, gripping your hips and pressing you closer to him. "Gonna think about him when you cum" he teases, pinching your nipple.

When you do cum, he doesn’t stop his pace- he picks it up instead. He wants you drunk on his cock, the only thing in your mind how good he’s fucking you.

Afterwards, he does apologise. He knows you would never betray his trust, his jealousy and possessiveness got the best of him.

He gives you the best aftercare, cuddling you close while whispering how much he loves you.

König~

König has his leg pressed against yours, his arm behind your head as you both sit peacefully in the common area of the barracks.

Since he’s not into PDA, you both show affection in small ways. Hand holding, arms or legs touching and occasionally, when its just the two of you, small kisses.

You were telling Konig a story about your rookie days, he smiles as he listens, in love with how expressive you are.

When, suddenly, an old friend of yours comes in the common area.

"Y/n!" He exclaimed, a huge smile on his face.

Your eyes shoot up to him, a smile appearing on your face. "Oh my god, Harry!" You rush over to him, hugging him tightly.

While the both of you talk, Koing stares at you, both in hurt and jealousy. He knows you're just excited to see your old friend, but he can’t help but feel a little insecure.

Your excitedly turn to him, "This my boyfriend, Konig!" You introduced, proud of who your partner is.

Harry eyes Konig, with a scoff he turns back to you. "Seriously? you choose that guy..."

Before you can defend your man, Konig is already out the room. You punch Harry in his stomach before running after him, scared that hes hurting.

You enter his room, seeing him on the bed you think hes upset. But, hes angry. Trying to contain himself to not fuck you senseless. You reach over and place a hand on his shoulder, and he snaps.

He grabs your waist and throws you on the bed, straddling you with his weight.

"Konig, i-"

"Shut it." He growled, his hand coming up to your neck, squeezing slightly. "You belong to me. Only me."

His hand trails to your trousers, unbuttoning them before roughly dipping his fingers into your wet heat.

You cry out as his ruthless pace, his fingers not slowing down. "I'm being nice and prepping you, be grateful"

Before you can cum, he removes his fingers. You don't have any time to complain as he enters himself inside. You moan and your fingers grip his arm, hard enough to draw blood.

" This pussy is for me only" he growled, quickening his pace.

Unlike Simon, he bullies your clit. Not letting you have any time to recover as he doesn't stop when you cum.

You don't know how many orgasms he ripped out from you- all you can think about is him.

Afterwards, he's more apologetic than Simon. He went too far with you, and he'd cuddle you close to him, rubbing a soothing hand over your arms and legs.

[inkbybambi]

i think i would feel so much better if i was squished in a pile of the 141 men. surrounded by their warmth and their distinct scents. being comforted because they’re there and they’ll protect you and keep you safe.

[terriblesaintbernard]

Konig was nervous for you to meet his mom but when he seen hkw well y’all got together he was very happy.

Now his mom bickers over you like your her own.