This Might Be A Wild One.

https://www.tumblr.com/ink-n-shadow/763622525217423360/what-if-i-did-this-but-as-an-smau

Omg omg omg omg YES. 🙏🙏

i did it. i apologize for the woman i am now that i did this

NEW NAILS

𝜗𝜚 the texts where you get your nails done and show the CoD men in a special way

𝜗𝜚 characters: simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, john price, kyle "gaz" garrick 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut themes (minors—DNI), reader is afab!fem, sending of nude photos, CoD men talking about your pussy (sometimes with personified pronouns)

𝜗𝜚 based on this amazing idea from @gothghostiie

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

tw: self-shipping; male masturbation

I'm terrible at edging when it comes to my own self, but I'd relish in making Johnny lose his composure, his mind, his own damn soul.

He's a very sexual individual. Always ready to go with little to no effort. I have to give him a look and his cock is chuffing in his pants.

The poor lad is just sitting on the couch, minding his business and watching a rugby match when I approach him, just staring and admiring until he quirks an eyebrow.

"Take a picture, lass. It lasts longer."

He's getting hard in his sweatpants. I can see his cock give a curious twitch and I feel my own pussy buzz with excitement as if the two are calling out to each other.

"Are you mad that your team is losing?" I tease, slowly approaching the couch while he squirms already, like a dog waiting for pets.

"No," he huffs, gripping the remote control tighter as he glances at me out of the corner of his eyes, "What's yer mission 'ere? Ye wee minx."

I kiss my teeth, crossing my arms as I watch his cock get harder; his neck flushes and it creeps up his stubbly cheek. Damn horny brat.

"You should pull your dick out," I make a gesture at his crotch and make a jerking motion with my hand, "Play with it a little for me."

His eyes light up, his chest heaves as he inhales sharply, and his Adam's apple bops when he swallows hard.

"...'scuse me? Ye ovulatin' or sumthin'?" He snorts a laugh, but his hands are already untying the laces on his sweatpants; one meaty reaching inside as the other rolls the grey fabric down below his balls. He rucks his white T-shirt up to expose his muscular, bulky torso, covered in coarse, dark hair.

"You're a good boy, right? So, do as I say, Johnny."

His brows furrow, his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth, annoyed, but his cockhead is flushed an angry red and his shaft throbs with need.

"Gimme sumthin' ta work with, then." He clicks his tongue and nudges his chin at me as his fist moves, up and down, up and down, "Show me yer tits."

I tilt my head back as I laugh mockingly, and he curses me under his breath.

"Fuckin' tease," he grunts, "Always fuckin' teasin' yer poor man." He pumps his cock faster, the friction sounding painfully dry.

"Wait," I say, still snickering as I approach, nudging his legs apart with my foot before I kneel between his thick thighs. I grab his wrist, make him stop pumping his cock and hold it at the root instead before I lean over his tip to spit a generous glob of my saliva on his cock.

"There... much better."

He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, head tipping back against the couch with a groan. The thick tendons in his neck strain while I can watch his slit dribble with pearly precum that mixes with my spit.

"Now suck it f'me, aye?" He hisses, pupils blown as he peeks down at me. His thumb brushes along the curve of my cheek, trying to coax me closer.

I shake my head with a grin, sitting back on my haunches, "Nah, you go ahead and jerk it for me. You know I like watching."

"Bloody minx." Johnny huffs, but does starts pumping his fat cock for me anyway. I'm squirming, my panties getting damper by the second; pussy gushing with arousal as the wet sounds of his hand working his cock, his hitching breath and shameless moans, drown out any other noise... and thoughts in my head.

I feel like a kitten watching a pretty toy twitch and wiggle in front of me, stimulating my hunting instincts until I'm ready to pounce.

"And remember... don't cum until I allow it, Sergeant."

I enjoy hearing Johnny whimper. His deep, breathless voice makes my stomach flip and flutter, and my pussy throb in anticipation.. Sometimes it's enough to get me all hot and bothered for him.

Perhaps I'm just as bad as he is.

I’m sorry this train just won’t stop

More Johnny and Ghost with Ghost’s selectively mute (edit; I originally labeled reader as non-verbal, but I was made aware mutism more accurately describes this!) gf

Soap loves it when Simon fingers you in front of him, movie totally forgotten, and lets him cum on your stomach when he jerks off. And seeing Simon wipe it from your pretty belly and put his fingers between your lips? Goddamn.

But you know what makes him feel over the fucking moon? When you hug him at the door when he’s heading out. When you say goodnight so, so quietly in his ear.

We all know that man is a dog. And now you’ve got him by the fucking leash. He’ll do anything to hear more of that voice.

He’s totally addicted. Now every time he meets up with the guys and you’re along, or he comes to your place for movie nights, he’s leaning down for you to whisper hi, Soap, or goodnight, Johnny. Two little words and he’s melting. And he starts unlocking more little bits— learning to prompt in ways that you’ll respond.

Instead of asking how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to, running his mouth the way his thumping heart is telling him to, he just asks “you okay?” So he can hear your sweet, quiet tone when you say I’m ok.

Makes him fucking hard. He’s never been so hard on so little before. Just two fucking words and he feels like he’s gonna pass out from his blood rushing down.

it is kind of funny that Neil played Soap as a pretty laid back but straight laced, normal macho soldier type, and we all decided that hmmm nah that's a creepy weirdo pervert that has heart eyes for pussy and dick and can't be normal to save his life

can i say something crazy? cw: piss

simon who has absolutely no respect for his bird's privacy.

comes back home from work; all sweaty and churlish and dour, soot caked on his face and hands, welder boots announcing his arrival in heavy, lazy footsteps. he doesn't call for you, but your gentle hey babe sounds from the bathroom anyway, half-distracted by the videos on your phone. the idea of you coddled at home since he left at dawn that morning — cushioned in bed until late, one hand in a bowl of cherries on ice that still drips condensation over your nightstand, the other pushing a new record for screen time on tiktok, the lengths of your legs all soft, bitten, exposed in set of flimsy shorts, cooled by the fan overhead, all ready evidence to why he puts up with as much shit as he does — drives him a little mad to think about. stokes a hunger in him, a mix of pride and masculinity and possessiveness that has him pushing into the room. despite the fact that his needs aren't urgent, not pressing enough to justify this.

this — standing right before you, so that your manicured toes kiss his leather soles. saying nothing as he unbuckles his belt, gruff, quiet, completely uninterested in addressing your concerns when you look up at him with those squinted eyes. it isn't above simon to make you suck him off while you're on the toilet, and really you wouldn't mind, but you get the sense that isn't what this is when he knocks your legs apart with his knees. little fuss to the action, little reaction to your spread pussy.

his cock bounces out about eye level with you. soft. nonetheless hefty and thick and large, bowing down even as he wraps a rough palm around its base. he can see the revelation find you in real time when he places his free hand on the wall behind you. the cresting arch of your brows. the grimace mangling your cheeks. the prissy pout of your lips. if he weren't so exhausted, he might have it in him to take your face right there. it's just the right combination of horror and fascination to get him going.

"simon noooo," you whine, throwing your phone somewhere, scrambling back until you can't anymore, porcelain tank pressing flush to your back. "just wait your turn. please!"

"'nuff of tha'. shush now." he huffs, chuckling a bit when he realises that you only made things worse for yourself by leaning away. your hips now jut out, cunt propped centre of the bowl.

there's no shyness, no stall on the release. his piss comes out in one, hot stream, washing right on target to hit your little clit. you shake your head, so disgusted with him he knows he'll have to make it up later. still, you do nothing to discourage it, sitting in place like a good pet, only occasionally tensing your legs against the steaming shower. some splashes on your belly, some on your thighs and the rim, yet it's never ending. you wonder if he planned this all day, held in the four cans of san pellegrino you packed for his lunch, just so he could give them back to you.

you just don't realise that not all of it is his.

"sad t'be missin' out on th' fun?" simon mocks, finally pulling away. he shakes the last of it off his cock, swiping a hand over his tip, before tucking himself back in. you blink, look down, and realise that somewhere along the lines, you started peeing too.

and have yet to stop.

"it's natural!" you wail, squeezing your pelvis floor in a last ditch attempt to save your dignity. it's no use. having started, it's near impossible to stop. your necks discovers a new type of heat in the humiliation, burn licking its way up your face. your ears tuck into your shoulder.

"yeah, yeah." he patiently waits for you to finish, cupping a hand under your elbow to keep you upright as you stand on fawn legs. his lips are paper thin, fleeting, when they press fondly to your temple. "now off to th' shower w'ya."

your nose crinkles. "you know you need one more than i do, right?"

"and wha's a shared bath?"

Estranged Husband Nikolai

Inspired by @pricegouge 's post about ex husband Nikolai (they're different I promise)

You got married young, too young but he was a stability you needed at the time. A financial stability - within the first year of marriage you had a nice house, a nice car, a nice allowance to go shopping for whatever you wanted and a very, very nice ring to tie it all together.

It wasn't until you realized you spent more nights alone than with Nikolai that all those nice things lost their sparkle. Between arguments you stowed away your allowance to save up for a divorce. You knew he'd fight it out just to be petty.

And he did. You moved out into your own flat and within an hour he flooded your phone with texts and calls. An attorney you called had to decline due to Nikolai contacting them first. You watched as your savings slowly drained.

One night you finally broke and called him back for the first time in months, begging for him to just sign the papers. You'd return everything; the car, the clothes, the jewelry, your ring. You just wanted to move on.

"No."

He agreed to give you an allowance again, let you live in your "little flat" and live how you wanted but the two of you had made a promise and he was a man of his word. Until death.

Several years later and your ring sat at the bottom of your jewelry box. You had a career, friends, a few dates here and there - all the stability you craved in your youth. Nikolai still loomed over you.

His visits were infrequent and random. He still acted like the two of you were in the honeymoon phase. Making you breakfast in the morning, bringing flowers with him, making you come over and over.

You almost fall for it. You think about letting him back in your life, trying this marriage thing again. You're older now. You have a life outside of him.

He thinks about it too. Lips against your ear as the head of his cock brushes against your womb, "maybe a baby will fix us?"

i do usually stick with the idea that simon’s got some insane stamina and can go for multiple rounds but something about simon being spent after one round is just so hilarious to me.

in his defense, your tight cunt’s, well, too greedy — sucking his poor cock into her until he’s all drained out and just laying limp on the bed, trying to catch his breath, fearing for his life too maybe.

“you’re tired?” you asked, the genuine innocence in your voice making him grumble, his hand gesturing you on top of him. not your fault, anyone would assume this big guy’s got more in his store.

“not really been doin’ all this before meetin’ you, love. don’t have the time in my job.” he panted softly, calloused hands gripping your hips as you settled on top of him.

“but you have time for me?” you smiled. his heart skipped a beat, and in that moment, he had decided that if he’d die like this, this was the best way.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

we are all sinners

johnny ⊹₊⟡⋆

sparring practise gone wrong!!! gone sexual!!! not clickbait!!!!