strawberry scented @cat-fire - Tumblr Blog

⋆｡‧˚ʚ navigation ɞ˚‧｡⋆

about me ʚ🍓ɞ

welcome to my little corner of the void. i’m a writer with a soft spot for the height of ser duncan, the chaos of dom, and the silence of simon riley. you can call me mire ♡ —she/her.

this is where i archive my fics and let my thoughts wander a little too far. i hope you find something here that keeps you company for a while.

#navigation #masterlist #ser duncan the tall #yungblud #simon riley #akotsk masterlist #dunk x reader #simon riley x reader #fanfic archive #a knight of the seven kingdoms #cod fanfics #simon ghost riley #dominic harrison #bhc #asoiaf #dividers by cursed carmine

the human brain is fascinating.💖 i’m currently giving birth to a beautiful kidney stone and at the exact same time wondering whether simon ghost riley would carry me bridal style since i can’t fucking walk. nature is beautiful.☺️🌸

#life update lol #ghost coded #cod imagine #simon ghost riley #im just a guuurl #btw im ok i think it’s a small stone tho #but still… my brain immediately thought of that

do you have any fav authors/books?

Hey, so I’m notoriously bad at picking favorites because my brain kind of short-circuits the moment someone asks me directly. But I definitely lean toward a very specific corner of literature. Mostly older books/classics, and anything that feels psychologically intense. I actually don’t connect much with modern YA or a lot of recent releases.

As a writer myself, my foundation is romanian literature. It’s what formed me in a very deep, almost unavoidable way. And i think it deserves way more global attention than it gets. Authors like Mihail Drumeș, Mihail Sebastian, Liviu Rebreanu, and Cella Serghi feel like permanent anchors in how I understand character, emotion, and human behavior. They are absolute legends and I cannot say that enough!

Outside of that, my taste is basically split into a few overlapping obsessions.

There is the sensual and nostalgic side where literature treats desire like something artistic. Anais Nin sits there permanently for me, especially Delta of Venus and Henry and June. Marguerite Duras’ L’ amant also lives in that space.

And then there is Andre Aciman, who I like specifically for the way he writes infatuation as all consuming. There’s something so beautiful and haunting about the way he portrays desire. Like it doesn’t stay contained in romance yet it becomes a kind of mental spiral. (I hope I make sense, lol:)))

And then there’s the psychological side, which is probably the one I return to the most. I like books about obsession, control, and a bit of emotional instability. John Fowles’ The Collector, The Great Gatsby, and Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca fit into that. Stories where the tension is quiet but constant, and you can feel something going wrong even when nothing is happening on the surface, that’s the vibe

So I don’t really have one favourite book, but I think I tend to collect atmosphere more than titles. Ultimately, I will always choose somthing psychologically tense, and emotionally wrecking over anything else.🩷

#answered ask #favourite books #favourite authors #books ask #what i read #my literature brain lol

allthingswhumpyandangsty

if you leave this kind of comment on any fanfic writer’s work or if you think this shit is okay and isn’t the reason more and more writers are choosing not to share their works with your entitled ass for free anymore, you should be ashamed of yourself.

if you suspect a fic is ai and if that bothers you, quietly close the tap and leave the fic. no one forces you to stay.

cat-fire

wow, can’t believe i’m living to see this happening in my day and time. it’s just disgusting. what if someone is actually dedicated, does their research, and is a good writer? punishing people for being good at what they do is wild. apparently, it must be ai if it’s faster than your deadass slow brain...

because excuse me, some people are just naturally inclined towards writing and are perfectionists about their craft. like, wow. the irony of trying to protect human art by insulting talented human creators is unreal.

can we wake the fuck up?? please!

#wow this is so fucked up #im so disgusted actually #writing #writers #fanfiction #tf is wrong with people

allthingswhumpyandangsty

some people don’t deserve fanfics, much less for free.

also even if authors didn’t tag any specific warnings but they used the “creator chose not to use archive warnings” tag, then that is your warning.

“omg you should’ve —” no one forced your entitled ass to read anything. fanfic writers write for themselves and their own enjoyment. if you don’t like what you’re reading, quietly leave. ao3 is not an airport. no one cares about your departure so no need to announce it.

“just thinking of how easily i can ruin your day,” you purr, your manicured nails sinking into the coarse, thick ridge of johnny’s mohawk, pulling his face down toward yours.

you're perched sideways on simon's lap like a spoiled queen on a throne, your thighs spread wide across his powerful legs, feeling the thick muscles beneath your body. hundreds of thousands of dollars spill from aluminum suitcases across price's desk, the green paper fluttering like worthless confetti compared to the absolute power of having these two monsters completely at your mercy.

johnny doesn't hesitate for a second. he leans over the desk, his massive frame blotting out the light, casting a delicious shadow that envelops you. his lips are scorching, slightly chapped, and demanding, parting yours with a hungry groan. he smells like warm skin, expensive cologne, and the dark hint of bourbon that makes your mouth water and your panties dampen.

his large, calloused hand slams onto the back of your neck, blunt fingers tangling deep in your hair, pulling just enough to make your scalp tingle. he tilts your head back, deepening the kiss until it's all slippery, breathless heat. he devours your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours with a heavy, possessive rhythm that makes your head spin and your clit throb. you can feel his growing hardness against the desk edge, and you grind your hips instinctively against simon's lap, earning a muffled curse beneath you.

suddenly, the solid wall of muscle beneath you snaps.

simon's jealousy is instant and violent. a low, territorial growl rips from his chest, vibrating right into your spine and making your nipples harden beneath your thin shirt. before you can even gasp, his massive, gloved hand clamps around your waist like a vise, the leather rough against your skin. with a sudden, grabby jerk, he rips you right out of johnny's grip, hauling your hips back flush against his chest. his mechanical, gloved fingers slide up your stomach to cup your breast, his thumb grazing over your nipple as he whispers in your ear, "you're mine to play with, not his."

he yanks his skull mask up just enough to bare his mouth, his face burning in the shadows as he forces your chin upward. when his lips crash against yours, it's like the moon swallowing the sun whole.

it's wet, sloppy, and utterly feral. simon kisses you like a starved beast, his hot tongue invading your mouth, claiming every corner of your sweetness with a bruising, desperate hunger. his scent overwhelms you—the musk of heavy leather, sharp gun oil, and that clean, cold bite of winter air clinging to him. his lips are thick and slick with spit, the ghost of johnny's taste still on them as their flavors mingle in your mouth.

his left hand, massive and unforgiving, slides up your thigh, thick fingers digging into your flesh, pinning you to his lap so completely you can't squirm. beneath you, simon's cock pulses against your ass through the layers between you.

you dissolve into the sheer weight of them, suffocating under their big hands, their masculine scents filling your lungs, and the delicious heat of their mouths warring over you like vicious dogs fighting over their master.

#task force 141 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #tf 141 x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #simon riley fanfic #soapghost #cod fanfic #reader being a brat while si and johnny are all over her like dogs #divider by cursed carmine #just my thoughts because today i felt bratty af

beefmilkthings

wish i was kissing you instead of thinking about you

adelineriley999

simon accidently yelled at you

The apartment had gone unbearably quiet after he yelled.

Not the comfortable kind of silence either. Not the kind Simon liked after long missions where the world finally stopped demanding things from him.

This silence was wrong.

You stood by the stove with your back turned, shoulders tense, blinking rapidly like if you just tried hard enough the tears would disappear before he saw them.

Too late.

Simon stared at you like he’d just watched himself pull a trigger he couldn’t take back. His chest rose once. Heavy.

“...Fuck.”

The word came out under his breath, barely audible.

You wiped quickly at your face. “It’s okay.”, you whispered , hurt and embarrassment blooming in your chest.

It wasn’t okay.

And Simon knew it immediately because your voice did that tiny shaky thing it only did when you were trying very hard not to cry.

He felt sick.

The kind where the person you love looks hurt because of you.

Simon took one cautious step forward. Then another.

“Love.”

You shook your head without turning around.

That hurt more than the tears.

Usually when he came home, you gravitated toward him automatically. Hands on his chest, arms around his waist. Soft little smiles like he was something worth waiting for.

Now you were standing as far away from him as the kitchen allowed.

Because he yelled.

Because he came home carrying all his anger and dropped it right at your feet.

His jaw clenched hard enough to ache.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly.

“Do what?”, you mumbled, trying to smoothen your voice.

“Stand there acting like you deserve that.”

You finally turned a little at that, eyes glossy. “Simon-”

“No.” He scrubbed a hand down his face harshly. “No, don’t excuse it.”

You went silent. He looked wrecked now. More wrecked than when he first walked in.

Rainwater still clung to his jacket. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion, but guilt sat on him even heavier.

“I came home to you,” he said, voice rough. “Warm flat, food on the stove, you waiting for me.” He laughed once bitterly at himself. “And first thing I do is bark at you like some miserable prick.”

Your lips parted slightly.

Simon looked away, jaw flexing.

“Spent two bloody weeks thinking about getting back to you.” His voice got quieter. “Then I walk through that door and make you cry inside five minutes.”

The tears you were trying to stop spilled over again.

The second he saw them, he looked genuinely devastated.

Not angry. Not frustrated.

Devastated.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

He crossed the room immediately then stopped himself halfway, hesitating.

Simon Riley, who would walk through gunfire without blinking, suddenly looking uncertain about whether he was allowed to touch his own wife.

“You don’t have to comfort me,” you whispered.

That nearly broke him, his eyes shut briefly.

“Christ.”

He finally stepped closer carefully, like approaching a wounded animal. His hands settled lightly on your arms, almost tentative.

“I’m sorry love,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Ever.”

You looked down, vision blurring, “I know you’re tired.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I wasn’t trying to annoy you-”,you huffed ,choking slightly on the tears.

“I know.” His voice cracked slightly then steadied. “I know you weren’t.”

The guilt in his expression got worse somehow.

“You were taking care of me,” he murmured. “That’s all you were doing.”

You tried to look away again but Simon gently caught your chin before you could.

“Look at me.”

You did. Big mistake.

The second he saw how hard you’d been trying not to cry, his entire face softened into something painfully guilty.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.”, he murmured ,gently cupping your face.

“You never yell at me.”, you sniffled.

That one hit directly to the ribs.

Simon actually flinched.

His thumb brushed carefully under your eye, wiping away a tear with absurd gentleness for a man built like a concrete wall with emotional constipation.

“I swear to you,” he said quietly, “the second it came outta my mouth, I wanted to take it back.”

You could hear how honest it was.

Simon wasn’t good at pretty apologies. He wasn’t poetic, wasn’t smooth. But guilt made him painfully sincere.

“I hate that you looked at me like that,” he admitted softly.

“Like what?”

“Like you were trying to figure out if I was angry with you.”

His voice nearly disappeared on the last part. Because that was the thing eating him alive now. The fact that for even one second, you’d looked at him uncertainly instead of safely.

Simon pulled you against him suddenly, firm and desperate, burying his face into your h.air.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated quietly against your temple. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You felt the way he held you tighter after every apology, like he was trying to physically make up for it.

“I missed you,” he admitted in a low murmur. “Missed you so bad it felt wrong sleeping without you there.” His arms tightened. “Then I come home and act like that.”

Your hands slowly curled into his shirt. Simon exhaled shakily at the feeling.

“There she is,” he whispered, relief and guilt tangled together. “Thought I fucked this up properly for a second.” he mumbled ,inhaling the scent of your hair.

“You didn’t.”

“Nearly did.”

And judging by the way he kept pressing little apologetic kisses into your hair like a man trying to repent for his crimes against domestic peace, he was going to spend the rest of the night making absolutely sure you knew he regretted it.

lol yeah i'm procrastinating my long fics TT

flytaco

Daddy caught dinner while you were drooling on my gear.

forestdeity

everything is divine punishment if youre delusional enough

prettybird-ie

smut !! p in v sex , public sex , degrading ( ish ) , 3rd party finding yall ! enjoy — <3

taking price and ghost fighting and running with it.

some stupid argument about john price not following rules in their little tuesday off base bar games blossoming into two weeks worth of high level pettiness.

snide remarks, shoulder shoving, hell the only time they even looked at each other these days was when they were on the mats. knuckles red and angry as they tore at one another. pride too solid to shake.

which is how you landed beneath simon.

wobbling cries muffled by the thick of his glove. baby doll tee pulled over your swaying tits and showing off a glistening sweaty back to him.

"s-si'! hun—" you hiccup, words slurred beneath the fabric. back stinging with wicked pleasure as he bends you into a mean arch. he watches the fat of your ass ricket with every drive home of his hard pelvis.

"sh, lovie. can' let big man see us 'ere?" he grins, balaclava pulled over his nose. he licks a fat wet strip up your nape. groaning at the musky sent of sex that pours over the room. "fuckin, juusstt like tha',"

prices room.

atop prices desk.

without price.

he curves his hand around your right thigh, smacking harshly at the puffy skin of your ass. you squirm, nails digging into the wooden desk. moans only meeting his covering hand.

he dips his hand down to the slick cream mess between you two. stringy connections of cum pull taught each time he drags out all the way to his tip, just to shove all the way back in as he drags you backwards and shoves his hips forwards. you scream, eyes white as you claw at the hand around your jaw.

he gathers the slick, white ring around his cock creating gummy noises he isnt bothered to muffle.

simon also knows important papers lay just beneath your rocking body. he rubs at your clit messily, juices soppy. you keen, stomach throbbing with the buldge he bullies into you. you smack at his hand, tears brimming your tearline.

everything blurs hot for a second. the slamming of a door doesnt register past your clotted ears.

"wot the fuc—" price barges in. face hot with anger before his eyes slot to yours. he watches as shameful lust swirls in them before he flickers down to the wet connection between you and the lieutenant.

you whimper, would be more embarrassed if you hadnt fucked them both before.

simon plows into your feral, blunt covered nails digging into your cheek.

"gon' cum pretty girl? righ' on the old mans shite?" his fingers move from over your mouth to cupping your jaw firmly. moving your head to arch it back. eyes bearily finding him upside down.

he grins, eyes squinted in pure joy.

looking back up to price as he feels you tighten around him the most deliciously. browns burning with complete intention. youre lost, too worried about your impending explosion of a release to truly care as price watches you melt dumb.

he kisses your temple. feeling you muddle over.

babbles leave swollen lips and brows completely furrowed. "there! t-there, please si'! f-fuc—" with his mean pinch on your clit you choke on your moans, blanking as all crashes down on you.

nails dig into simons skin, blood prickling beneath. raspy screaming moan bouncing between both mens ears.

by the time you blink back to current reality, youre carefully laid over johns ruined desk. damp body smudging papers as they stick to your panting chest.

simon dutifully rubs your hips. smiling at john like the asshole he is.