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💚 Call of Duty
💗 My Masterlist
** There are three blogs where you can find my work!

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DEAR READER
Sade Olutola

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Keni
Three Goblin Art
hello vonnie
Stranger Things

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
occasionally subtle
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
almost home
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
d e v o n

#extradirty
we're not kids anymore.
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
dirt enthusiast

Love Begins
seen from United States
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seen from Norway
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@alkaline-wtr
RECOMMENDATIONS
💚 Call of Duty
💗 My Masterlist
** There are three blogs where you can find my work!
"No more rules" Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 4 - Reveal Trailer
Still thinking about ghost in the [24-hour diner] that reader works at...
The strange man becomes....not a regular, but a frequent visitor. Comes in twice a week or once a month. Always pays in cash, always heavily overpays. Always when you're on staff.
You've taken to calling him ghost because he dissappears so often. He laughed his ass off the first time you called him that, said you had perfect instincts. Whatever that means.
Without fail, whenever he comes in you're already calling out to the back "code ghost!" Long before he sits down. By this point patty just starts making whatever. Ghost will eat anything and money is never an issue.
He always ends with a vanilla milkshake. Cute.
It's just....today is the one day you don't want to see ghost.
He notices it instantly. The tight press of your lips, the wet sheen in the corner of your eyes. How you don't say hi the second he walks in.
"Whats wrong, kid?" He asks, sitting right in front of you instead of at his usual seat. You purse your lips, try to stop yourself from choking out the words.
"Nothing. It's silly." It still comes out weak, forced, and you take a breath before trying again. "Just....boy trouble. Really thought he loved me, yknow?"
Which is silly, of course ghost doesn't know. He doesn't seem like he's ever even locked pinkies with someone in the last century. you continue at his grunt, tears welling again "well, he said loved me. Just...not enough to stay loyal. I guess."
Ghost makes a low, dangerous sound in the back of his throat "want him dealt with?"
...
....what.
"What?! Like...dead? No. No, not–" the sheer absurdity of the statement and the tiny voice in your head telling you ghost is serious is enough to snap you out of your mind. "No! I don't want him dead!"
"Not what I said." Ghost grumbles, but pulls the usual cash from his backpack anyways. He lets you calm down while he eats what you assume is a hundred pancakes.
At the end, ghost asks for two vanilla milkshakes. He passes the second to you, and urges "just fuckin' relax a bit, kid. Life's too short and meaningless to worry about some bloke."
...it does help. Slightly.
Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II - gifs 2/?.
WE WILL SURVIVE
- - CHAPTER 8 - -
Ghost x reader Description: Reader struggles with her boredom being stuck alone with Soap. Genre/Warnings: zombie apocalypse AU, Ghost x fem!reader, 141 x reader, survivor!reader, Graves x fem!reader, angst WC: 1k
My Masterlist
** Here it is as promised!! Thank you to everyone for their patience. I know I have had a terrible track record with consistency here. Despite that I've still somehow doubled the size of my tag list and for that I am extremely grateful. I want you to know, if you even bother reading this, that I write with my entire being, I think about my readers all the time, and my blog is so important to me. I just moved into my first apartment! So, I have much more free time and motivation to keep writing. I will not let y'all down! I have plenty of ideas, and as soon as this story is done, I will be doing a complete revision and publishing it in full somewhere... Wattpad, ao3 maybe? Here?? IDK but, I hope you like it. I'm having some issues with my laptop at the moment, which is why this wasn't posted sooner, but I promise Chapter 9 will be done very soon. Enjoy. PS - I've set up a Ko-Fi to hopefully get into doing some commissions or freelance services. If that is something you guys are interested feel free to check it out! I love what I do and have every intention in building my presence here. >> Kofi link If you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist please, let me know.
<< PART 1 / << PART 7
The hours dragged on. The fact that you'd made it to dusk without banging your head on a tree from pure boredom was a miracle.
You were now sitting opposite Soap. The fire was dying down to embers. Most of the day was spent quietly and alone, pacing around the campsite, unpacking and repacking your bags, and counting your ammo more times than necessary. There truly was nothing to do here besides sit under a tree and wait.
"Hungry?"
Soap asks, moving to sit beside you.
"Not really."
He's so pretty I can't.
** More drafts, Idk. Enjoy
It had been a few weeks since you’d seen your husband. John had been gone on a mission, and now that he was home, you couldn’t wait to see him. It took some convincing to pull him away from his mountain of paperwork. But how could he say no to that low-cut top and bright, glossy lipstick?
His beard scratched your cheek as he kissed your neck,
“God, I’ve missed ya,”
he breathed against your sensitive skin, sitting you on the edge of his desk.
“I missed you too, ‘Captain.”
you teased, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He moved to pull it off, and you tossed his hat on the floor. Your fingertips explored his muscular chest, combing through the dark hair trailing down his stomach.
John’s calloused hands pushed under your shirt, grazing the soft skin. You worked at his belt as his hands kneaded your breast through the fabric of your bra.
Bang.
He was halfway undressed when the door flew open.
“Oi! Price, have you seen-”
You both froze and John grasped at his pants, now loosely sitting at his knees.
Gaz went pale, stammering at the sight. John grunted.
“…Kyle,”
he said slowly, voice flat.
“Get out.”
Gaz turned away, staring at his shoes.
“Of course. Sorry, Cap… Sorry.”
He stepped out of the room, leaving to door wide open in his haste.
“Shut the door!”
John’s voice boomed, full of irritation and embarrassment.
“Sorry!”
Gaz called, slamming it behind him.
You couldn't hide the smirk on your face as John closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. There was a long silence. He shook his head.
“I’ll never live this down.”
You chuckled, cupping his scruffy cheeks in your hands.
“Neither will he.”
A muffled voice came from beyond the door.
“Didn't see a thing!”
Kyle exclaimed, unconvincingly. John huffed
“Next time, we’re puttin’ a sock on the door.”
You shrugged.
“Or a sign? ‘Private Briefing.”
John smirked and leaned forward, his palms resting on either side of you.
“Oh, I'll brief you, alright.”
You smacked his arm playfully as he kissed you again.
** Been busy with school, so I’m cleaning out my drafts. I didn’t proofread this, but it’s something I guess. Enjoy!
It was one of those rare mornings, the rain tapped against the window, sheer curtains pulled over to dull the grey sky as it lights the room. You and Simon were tangled together by your limbs. A sheet woven between them. Simon’s calloused hand ran over your skin. Warmth radiated from each fingertip as he caressed your side.
Suddenly he paused leaning in to squint at you.
“what’s this?”
He asked, smoothing his thumb over a spot on your chin.
“Huh?”
Your fingers came up to touch the spot confused.
“Looks like a scar.”
He explained rubbing at it again with the pad of his thumb. His brows were furrowed almost like he’d been trying to figure out when it had appeared and why he hadn’t seen it before.
“Maybe an acne scar?”
You shrugged. Simon grunted.
“Too pretty to be marked up like that.”
You chuckled, a small blush forming on your cheeks.
“Yeah, well I’ve got plenty. Maybe not as many as you, but…”
Simon scoffed,
“No way you’d have more than me.”
He shifted onto his back and raised his arms in the air twisting them around to show of the glittering slivers of silver littering his skin.
“This one here, I got from some airborne shrapnel after an explosion.”
He points to his forearm were a thin line ran across it. The scar was clearly old and faded.
“And this here from a bullet.”
He says pointing to a circular scar on his shoulder.
“Got quite a few of those.”
He smirks. You smile propping yourself up on your elbow.
“Well mine aren’t as spectacular. I got this one here after a nasty fall while riding my bike as a kid.”
You say pointing to a barely visible pink patch of skin on your knee.
“Road rash. Burned like hell and I couldn’t bend it for 2 weeks.”
Simon smiled taking in the sight in amusement. His eyes flitted back up to yours.
“And this is from the time I got bit by a dog.”
You say pointing out a small oval shaped scar on your hand. The scar was so old it hand blended into your knuckles and if you’d never pointed it out even Simon, as observant as he is may not have ever noticed.
“Well, not all my scars came from battle.”
Simon says offering you his hand, between his thumb and forefinger was a deep scar.
“Got that one when I tried to do a trick with a throwing knife after a couple drinks.”
You gasped at the thought, your shock morphing into laughter.
“Remind me not to leave knives around when you drink.”
You teased. Simon shook his head and pulled you into his side with a deep sigh. His lips gently pressed to your temple.
For better or worse, no matter where or how you’d gotten your scars, they all told stories and they all played a part of making you who you are. Besides, scars or not, Simon still found you to be the most beautiful person he’d even had the privilege of knowing.
hiiiiiii if you don’t mind me asking will the story we will survive have new chapter? because i love it sooo much
Yes! I'm actually working on the next three. I've just been struggling to get them done with school, work, and writers block lol. I just want it to be perfect, but as soon as they are done I'll be dropping them all as an apology for taking so long. 🥴
I'm glad you are enjoying to story and showing it love. Thank you. 🫶
I feel like Simon is the type of guy who would use dish soap in the shower because it’s cheap, versatile, and a single large jug lasts him a pretty long time. Besides, if it’s good enough for the plates he eats off of, it’s good enough for his hair right?
Or at least that’s what he said the first time you stayed the night at his place. You looked at him with a mix of disgust and disbelief.
“You can’t be serious…”
Your eyebrow is quirked and your lips parted as you searched for words. Simon just looked down at you where you stood beside him a towel draped over your arm.
Both of you stood in front of his shower. A large jug of dish soap propped up in the corner with a loofah hanging from the faucet. It was a sad sight.
You and Simon had only been seeing each other a short while, but this certainly wasn’t going to do if you planned to make this a regular thing.
Within the hour you were at the store leading Simon, who pushed the cart, down the toiletry aisles. By the time you got back to Simon’s place he was hauling bags of shampoos, conditioner, body soaps, lotions, scrubs, face wash, and of course a new shower caddy to hold it all.
He didn’t seem to mind that you were making a space for yourself here so soon and even suggested you shower together after getting everything put away.
“So, you can show me the proper was to use all this stuff.”
But, his smirk told you he was just using that as an excuse.
A smutty pt2 of [transcription!reader] hehe...
Ever since you heard that ghost is...interested, in you, it's been odd. You have no idea if he's aware that you're the one transcribing his comms, it's supposed to be a secret to avoid black-mailing, after all.
But you swear sometimes you pass him in the halls, and he has this gleam in his eyes. As if he can tell that you know. You want to act on it, but what if he was just talking shit with gaz? What if he doesn't mean it?
Those are the questions running through your head as you get your next audio booted up. A ghost solo op, the kind you usually look foreward to because he's much more vocal by himself. Right now, though? You can hardly focus on the grunts and hums, too caught up in your dilemma.
Which is why the sudden moan makes you nearly spill your drink.
A rough exhale over your headphones, you crank the volume up to max and– that slick, slapping noise...no way. No fucking way.
Ghost is jerking off with his mic on.
You knew he did it on the field, most guys do, but he always mutes. This...this is rare. You slip on both sides of your headphones and lean back to enjoy, not at all guilty about the way your thighs rub together.
"Mmhhh, fuck–" his voice is low, restrained and quiet. Obviously he doesn't want to be found. You try to imagine ghost in all his bulky gear, palm wrapped around his dick. "Yesss....there we go...."
God, did he bring lube? Sounds like it, you think, listening to the slick sounds of his pumping. He likes it fast, then. He grunts particularly loud, "shit– hey. B13, I know yer– mmhhh– listening."
What.
"I know it's you, lovie, I see the way you've been lookin' at me." Your face is burning hot, stomach pooling with arousal at being directly spoken to. "Fuckin' hell...makes me wanna bend you over, show you a nice time."
You subconsciously rock in your seat, eyes half-lidded as ghosts rough voice fills your awareness. "C'mon, love, touch yerself. I want you to, please–"
You've never unbuttoned your pants faster, glad that your office is the only occupied room in the hall. Your hands slip under your waistband, and you try to imagine it's ghosts.
He makes it easy, rumbling "I'd be nice an' sweet at the start. Mmnh, Get you warmed up– ah– and ready." He groans particularly hard, the slick sounds pausing. You imagine him trying not to finish too soon. "Wouldn't want– hah– to break you on the first night."
Ohh god. The idea of ghost looming over you, moving you as he needs. You imagine how impress he'd be that you can take all of him...you probably wouldn't mention you bought a dildo after hearing size during mission audio a month ago.
"Fuck, lovie, ahm' close–" you speed up, desperate to finish at the same time. Ghost moans into his fist, gear rustling. Then, in a deliciously unexpected move, he whines loud and high. "fuck! Fuuuckkk– yes–! Haahhhahh...shit. come talk to me."
With that, the audio cuts off.
...you silently pull out your personal thumb drive and reason that it's not really a federal crime if the audio is meant for you...right?
its christmas eve and look whos on tumblr
all of us
Jesus also spent Christmas in a barn full of animals
Can we all talk about blacksmith!Simon…
The way the sweat darkens the fabric of his tee shirt, a deep ring around his collar that trails down the broad planes of his chest.
Muscular arms flexing with every swing of his hammer, the veins pronounced as his brows knit tightly in concentration. The sharp clank, clank of metal rings out, sparking as he works to flatten it against the anvil.
Orange firelight illuminates his hardened features, as he plunges the glowing steel into the quench with a hiss.
Simon nods at his work, with a flicker of satisfaction. He casts the hardened blade aside, already preparing for the next piece, not a hint of exhaustion in sight.
i do have to say that no matter how shitty any sort of media is or how shitty your own creations are. always remember
hello gaz nation (is this even anything)