GhostGaz going on a cute date ice skating. Gaz is really coordinated having done it for a long time but Ghost is like a baby deer holding onto the wall. He absolutely accidentally pulls Gaz down trying not to fall. They kiss giggling on the ground more than once.
One of the cutest ideas, I can't. I rarely ever write pure fluff, but damn. GhostGaz being cuties together? I love your brain. Also I feel Simon. I have never been able to ice skate.
WARNINGS: Fluff. I have not written anything COD in months so I am rusty. But idgaf because these two cuties are happy and that's what matters.
Simon Riley knew extensively how to be a living weapon. Ghost. He wore the armor well because it was a survival instinct he had perfected long ago. The military taught him the art of patience. Of calculating. Of dimming the adrenaline to keep on living.
Off the field, Simon Riley was way leas coordinated than he'd like to admit.
He was a man. One that for a long time didn't know how to occupy his hands if they were not poised for defense on the battlefield. Adapting to the mundane, settling into a quiet existence took a far different set of skills than he was equipped for.
Kyle Garrick was a piece that naturally followed him from the battlefield to that mundane.
Simon adapted to him both easily and hesitantly. He trusted the bloke with his life. Could put a rifle in the man's hands and be certain there would be someone watching his six. And Simon did not take trust for granted. Especially when he knew how deeply the wound festered when that fragile connection was severed.
Kyle was a good man. Conflicted. But he knew his way around the world. Soon enough, it was easy to expect both when there was one. Truthfully, it made them all the more synchronized on the field, having this personal existence away from the guts and glory.
Simon adapted well, but not quite to Kyle's spontaneous date ideas.
And tonight was the night he decided Kyle Garrick was a little shit.
He had never been caught at an ice skating rink. You could put a blade in his hand and he'd wield it with an innate proficiency. He utilized his resources well on the field. He was a unit, a towering mass of flesh you didn't want to be caught by.
Put the blades on his feet? He was not so coordinated.
Simon gripped the wall, eyes glaring holes into his support like it'd disappear. He stuttered across the ice in mixmatched strides, not sure if his blades were stable enough to hold him up alone.
It made it worse when a little girl glided past him with much more grace than he had ever felt.
Kyle might have found the one thing that rendered his lieutenant useless.
Speaking of the man, he idled next to Simon with a stupid grin on his face. He was skating backward, distributing his weight evenly and confidently, allowing him to remain upright.
"You know, you're supposed to not hug the wall, eh?" Kyle speaks.
"Can it, Sergeant."
Kyle just chuckled and pivoted on his skates, facing forward and skating around the circle rink. Simon found his eyes drifting to watch him, a small hint of fondness creeping up. Kyle navigated himself around a family before curving around the last little curve before he made it back.
Simon? He hadn't moved that far.
"C'mon, big man. Hold my arm or hand," Kyle mused. His right arm extended the offer expectantly.
Simon sighed and removed a hand from the wall. He wobbled slightly, thinking his equilibrium was shifting when, in reality, he just spooked himself. His hand immediately went to clutch the wall again.
Kyle was truly amused and Simon hated it. When Kyle went to reach out again, Simon just wanted to prove that he could defeat his ice skating demons. Solid plan. Bad execution.
He tilted forward, blades cutting forward on the ice when he pushed his weight that way. Next thing he knew, he didn't even really know if he tried to correct the change, he was already down on the ice. And his smug partner went down with him.
Simon grunted, rolling over onto his back. The ice was cold on his back and he didn't even want to spare a glance at Kyle. He was the slightest bit embarrassed.
"Not a word, Garrick," he commanded.
Kyle's face appeared above him, a stupidly smitten and boyish joy brightening his face. Simon softened the smallest bit.
"You were like a baby deer, LT," he teased. He was going to milk this, it was obvious. "I'll make sure to tell Cap not to let you skate after the enemy."
"Laugh it up. I'll have you scrubbing shit," he defended.
Kyle knew that was a lie. He knew Simon had a soft spot for him. How could he not? Kyle knew how to be the type of person he needed. It was to be expected given the nature of a relationship that started off with blood spilling first.
Kyle leaned down, silencing Simon's complaints. His lips sealed over his, chaste but loving. It silenced Simon's inner dialogue for a long moment. That was another thing Simon had to adapt to. Being alright with holding something and trusting it wouldn't snap. He knew Kyle was more than capable of fending for himself, but it still terrified him sometimes. Old wounds refusing to close evenly.
"C'mon. If you manage to get up, I'll get you some ice cream. Sounds less likely to fight back," Kyle stated already pushing himself up.
But Simon grabbed his wrist, pulling him back. He was alright with this. Having someone to be lighthearted with. A domesticity he never got to cherish before.
He huffed out a laugh, before he pulled Kyle to him again. He kissed him with light pressure, shy as if seeking approval. But Kyle had mastered communicating a lot of things without words as well. So small gestures usually meant more than the grand ones.
If reader had been writing and publishing since before meeting the boys in the Serial Killer AU, and theyāre such a active visual learner when it comes to their works (their insaneeeee attention to detail and infatuation) then how did they get their inspiration in the first place? What if theyāre not as innocent as theyāre putting out for the boys, going through all these stages of grief as they lose their mind to the newly discovered reality theyāre in?
Have you (or will you) consider reader having their hands dirty too? What if itās all a front? What if the boys find out?
I doubt this is the direction youāve spun it in, but could you write a spin off with something similar to this? Iād love to see an alternate (or perhaps canon) part where this goes down. They kill? Great, reader too?
Omg, I missed this for so long! I am so sorry, anon š I've been so nonexistent.
I love this take! That reader is maybe playing them as well. It's so interesting. Them putting up a front because it helps them do their thing without the boys or anyone suspecting a thing. Reader fooling four highly smart men is just so perfect.
I have one idea rn, but honestly, nothing is set in stone. I just need to work out all the kinks. But I will think about this, hehe.
Hi people. Someone should (no pressure) give me some simple and easy blurb ideas. I am so blocked, but I want to keep my juices flowing, y'know? Brain is mean. Brain sabotage. Help. I miss y'all.
omegaverse or soulmates // fake dating or secret dating // fix-it or post-canon // mutual pining or friends-to-lovers // slow burn or angst // smut or romance // reality tv au or porn au // enemies to lovers or enemies to friends to lovers // domestic fluff or hurt/comfort // coffee shop au or college au // one-shot or multi-chapter // crossover or canon compliant // mpreg or adoption // online romance or workplace romance // single parent au or sports au // neighbours or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au
(no pressure!) tags: @bythegraceofathena @cooliofango @unseaworthy @auberghyn @youarehereyouaresafe @silverlullabies
omegaverse or soulmates // fake dating or secret dating // fix-it or post-canon // mutual pining or friends-to-lovers // slow burn or angst // smut or romance // reality tv au or porn au // enemies to lovers or enemies to friends to lovers // domestic fluff or hurt/comfort // coffee shop au or college au // one-shot or multi-chapter // crossover or canon compliant // mpreg or adoption // online romance or workplace romance // single parent au or sports au // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au
(no pressure) @captainpriceslilwife @gazstations @staytrueblue @nastybuckybarnes @dckweed @livecrow
omegaverse or soulmates // fake dating or secret dating // fix-it or post-canon // mutual pining or friends-to-lovers // slow burn or angst // smut or romance // reality tv au or porn au // enemies to lovers or enemies to friends to lovers // domestic fluff or hurt/comfort // coffee shop au or college au // one-shot or multi-chapter // crossover or canon compliant // mpreg or adoption // online romance or workplace romance // single parent au or sports au // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au
no pressure tags: @lialucis @lostintransist @vinnierobot748 @emrysmerlinambrose @cod-indulgences
NOTESā I did it, guys. It almost took me a whole ass century to write for this again. I felt so guilty with all the asks about if I was continuing or not. Thank you for the love on this story even while I was off in the wind. Just trying to get in the groove of writing again. Life has been CRAZY.
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HOW DO YOU OUTSMART MEN WHO HAVE NO SET ROUTINE?
Instinctively, they already seemed well accustomed to the vulnerability of manipulation. They functioned true to their own roles yet still had a pattern you could not quite identify. You wondered if it had always been like this, and it just seemed normal. Or had they specifically decided to change trajectory because of your flight from the nest?
Your life had unraveled, busted at the seams of what you once thought was safety. Were you safe? Had you ever been? Or had your men been playing with their dinner, feasting off of what you provided before ultimately you'd be another casualty? It wasn't fair that they did this to you. This confusion in your bones was aching, making your poor head hurt.
The bile hadn't left your throat.
And the worst part was that you weren't entirely sure you wanted to fly the coop.
You loved your life with them. Had. Or you still did. There went your scattered thoughts. Both sides were tugging at your useless body, making you humiliated to even entertain the thought of staying. Why would you? You were a ticket to their cruelty. Their hungry malice.
You were going to die prematurely due to the stress they had caused you.
It was dark. Your lovers had left you to stew. To linger in your doubt. You had so much time to process, to make sense of what wasn't supposed to be understood, and yet you made no progress at all.
Torn.
All you had to do was put one foot in front of the other. If you couldnāt speak the truth of your lovers' lack of humanity, perhaps you could write it. You would surely be killed for it, but it would hit the shelves before they could do anything. Before they knewā¦
So why did you feel like you weren't supposed to?
Had the manipulation rooted so deeply that you could no longer rationalize with yourself? Maybe it was the unknown of what waited for you if you became the messenger. But why did you care so much if you lived? People had already died. You knew the truth. You had a duty to avenge them. Right?
You tossed in the bed. The blankets were as they had always been. Soft. Fluffy. Full of warmth. You had your own space, and yet you usually ended up with one of the guys by the time sleep weighed your eyelids down. There was a security there.
They banked on your pliant body.
The door creaked, wrestling you out of your mind. You turned your head to the blackened doorway, breath catching in your throat as if claws were going to sink into your feet and drag you free of your cocoon. You barely moved as you listened to the footsteps as they approached your bedside.
"Doe?"
Johnny's voice sounded much louder in the stillness of your quiet fear. You blinked, unsure of what to say. Tell him to fuck off surely would've been an appropriate response. Staying silent? Less effective, but still valid.
Words always got you in trouble.
Johnny answered for your lack. He peeled back the blankets and found the warmth of your body. He shuffled into your space like every other night. Nothing changed for him, and yet your world was imploding as his hands cupped around your belly. He let out a pleased little sigh as he settled.
"Ye feelin' better?" He asked, stroking over your stomach like the sickness in your body was merely a viral infection and not a conflict of your very heart.
You didn't answer. You just closed your eyes and wished for his touch to be gone. It just made your deterioration worse because any sliver of contact made your heart yearn for more. You wanted it to be easy to shatter any good light you had perceived them in.
"Cap feels bad fer what he did," Johnny continued. "Kyle said he took care of ye, though."
The bath you took with Kyle still sweetened your skin with whatever scent the bath bomb had been. You had taken that bath and skipped dinner, acting like you locked yourself in purgatory when really you knew you were still under their bend. The lock turning outside your door showed as much.
How long had they been planning on imprisoning you behind the walls where you used to bloom?
There were things you never thought of but were revealed to you at slow, agonizing speed. Taunting. Driving the hammer further down on your heart. The queasiness in your stomach never left. It became an uninvited guest prowling in your guts.
"Please dinnae be mad at us," he whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder. "We want the best fer ye."
A warm hand cupped your face and turned your head. You could barely see him, but you felt his breath as he analyzed the situation. You used to crave the way his eyes alone would pry you apart because it made you feel seen. Like you finally found someone who completed you. They all had their strengths of making you feel desired and understood.
Now the analyzing just put you on edge.
Johnny hummed as he placed a quick, almost chaste kiss to your lips. But you knew better. He was a dog. A man always hiding his true intentions for just a moment before he got impatient. He could never sit still for long.
His lips sought yours again, this time more demanding. More taking. He rolled your body until it was beneath him, his legs bracketing you. His whole brawny form enveloped you, a powerhouse of desperation and malice. You sunk beneath the waves for him, instinct coiling tight in your belly as your hands rose and traced the lean muscle of his stomach.
God, what were you?
Johnny smiled against your lips, "There ye go, doe. Ah'm right here fer ya."
You let his body drape over yours, molding into the bed like some paperweight. Your brain was buzzing, but your body was one foot in the complete direction of damnation. You were accustomed to the smell of him, the way he pried into your rib cage like it was his own. You didn't want to let that go, but deep down, you knew you might have to. You could not call yourself a good person if you let the victims evaporate in their premature tombs.
Johnny's kiss was insistent, pressure against your lips in a way of claiming. He sighed into the kiss, sloppy and hungry for your submission. For your acceptance of what was and would be. You could taste metallic seeping into your mouth, and you faltered slightly. He pressed his hips into yours, rolling softly just to hear the slight catch in your breath. You just let him. Selfishly, you wanted one moment of not thinking about reality before you dove headfirst into the rocky bank.
Johnny's fingers trailed down your torso, seeking and admiring as they dipped below the waistband of your pants. Just as he delved into the heat between your legs, clarity slammed into you. What the fuck were you doing? You made a noise of protest, pushing at his shoulders. You ignored the hiss of pain he made when you pressed too hard on his right shoulder. You could care less.
"No. Stop," You demanded. Your breath was heavy, and you could feel the warmth of his against your face. "You don't get to do that. Not like nothing is wrong."
Johnny was silent for a moment. You couldn't completely see him in the darkness of the room. You couldn't see what look he held or what he was scheming. You knew he would try. Johnny was stubborn. And he would be loyal to John first before he would ever try to sympathize with you.
You squirmed from underneath him, reaching for the beside lamp. You'd have more control in the light. The knob was turned, and suddenly, all the details you were deprived of came into the forefront.
Johnny was still hunched in the same position, head tilting in your direction to look at you. He was already shirtless, bruising along his shoulder where it looked like he was roughly grabbed. It matched a new, deep bruising along the right side of his torsoāyou noticed a wince when he moved, suddenly favoring the other side. There was a cut on his lip as well, explaining the metallic you had tasted before.
"Yer leavin' me, doe?" He asked pitifully.
"All of you," you corrected, trying to keep your footing. As long as you kept your head, they couldn't hurt you anymore. Right? "What you doā¦ it's wrong, Johnny. Youā¦"
Johnny's hand enclosed around your ankle, blue eyes boring into yours. You kept his gaze for a moment before your jaw tightened, and you broke it. You despised the way he did that, like it was your fault you found their extracurricular activities distasteful. Like you were the one who wasn't supposed to have morals.
"Ye dinnae understand," he said firmly. "That's all it is."
A scoff left your lips, "Right. Because I'm supposed to understand murder."
Johnny's face twisted. You tensed like you were waiting for a blow. You didn't know who you were facing in situations like these. Because clearly, all your assumptions had been misguided by pretty little lies the whole time. It made you sick, your stomach rolling as you thought about it.
"Ye willnae be safe out there," Johnny insisted. "Not alone."
Your head was spinning. Before you realized you were doing it, your foot planted itself against his chest and pushed. He moved, didn't say anything as you tried to create distance. You needed more time to think, and he was not helping. It was making you uneasy.
"Get out!" you snapped. "Get out!"
"Doeā¦" he tried to reach for you again but you picked up the water glass Kyle had left earlier, and held it up. "Feck. Jesus. Ah'm goin'!"
You didn't feel any less weighed down when the door closed behind him. And you listened to the lock click from the outside with your heart dropping into your stomach. You ended up chucking the cup anyway, listening to it shatter against the far wall in frustration. You couldn't think properly while being trapped right in the hornet's nest. You needed to get out, but you didn't know how.
You curled up into the bed again, body active and alert as you stared at the far wall. You analyzed the window, wondering how easy it would be to drop two stories onto the ground. You couldn't do it unless you were adequately prepared. You needed to think about that, something that would have to wait until tomorrow.
A tomorrow that would come slowly.
But no one else bothered you after your moment with Johnny. At least sparing you some silence.
ā”āā”
Simon nudged you awake the next morning, no pleasantries offered for your weary soul. You blinked open your eyes, head pounding from the restless sleep and the lack of food. You lifted your head, watchful and suspicious. Simon was one of the hardest to read. Or maybe the easiest. Because you at least knew he was far harder to please. Johnny and Kyle hid behind boyish grins and sweetness. It was almost less surprising for Simon or John to betray you than it was Johnny and Kyle.
All at once? Yeah, you didn't quite like the feeling of hurt that bubbled in your body. It made you feel pathetic and childish. Made it harder to grasp stable ground.
"You need to eat," he said simply.
His arm was already tugging you off the bed, giving you no room to protest as he dragged you towards the door. You let him. You knew that no matter what your plan was, you were going to need your mind operating to its full extent. You wouldn't get far with half a mind and stomach empty.
The others were already downstairs when you both entered. There was an open spot between John and Kyle, Simon forced you into the seat without a word. He plopped down right across from you, Johnny slightly tensing as he did so. You narrowed your eyes at the display.
"Sleep well, darling?" John asked. His meaty hand enclosed around your upper thigh, squeezing softly. A gesture that could easily be mistaken for affection, but it just made your stomach burn like you ate something rotten. Every action now was glossed over with new meaning, disrupting the sanctity of your life.
You didn't answer the question, gripping your fork in a tight grip. Play indifferent until you had a full plan.
"You'll learn," John was so sure in his words. Like he knew the script that was always bound to happen. "Eat up. The lads all pitched in. We still want to take care of you, even if you're a little misguided right now."
"Misguided?" You couldn't stop yourself from saying. "Do not talk about me like I am some child throwing a fit. You are all monsters!"
John chuckled dryly. "Never claimed to be good. You only saw what you wanted to. Never questioned what you already knew deep down."
You didn't have a rebuttal to that. Because maybe he was right about that. You never chose to look into their curiosities about your writing. Never questioned why there were rules in place that limited your freedoms to being alone and going to certain areas of the property. You never questioned why they came home with a certain air about them.
You believed the lies because all along maybe you were surviving.
You stabbed your eggs like they were laced with poison. You wished they were. The moment you started to eat, so did the others. You hated the way they orbited around you. It was confusing you, making you feel more guilty about what you were waiting for the right mind to decide. Did you ever have freedom?
John leaned in close to your ear, "If you ever step out of line again, I'm cuffing you to the bed again. Your choice on how you wish to play out, darlin'."
Your spine stiffened at that threat. He knew you exactly what you were planning. Knew you'd try to find some way to trick them. He had to. He knew games because he was the master at them. Which is why you had to be extra careful about what you did. Or you'd get nowhere at all and your restrictions would be even more brutal.
Then John was smiling disarmingly, squeezing your thigh again and finally biting into his own food.
"You'll see what we're doing for you. All in due time."
Beefy stocky men who loom over you, thick, powerful body pressing down with his full weight- broad chest, heavy gut, and dense muscle pinning you helplessly to the bed. Driving his fat, veiny cock deep into your slick cunt, pressure of his heavy balls grinding against your clit as he grunts low and heavy, hips slamming forward with raw, bruising force. Being completely smothered, drowning in his heat and heft while he fucks you senseless. šāāļøš¤¤šš»
Hellloo, I've read all of the serial killer au parts and all love them all I'm wondering if your gonna write more parts but I have an idea if you wanna write part 8
If the cod men's girlfriend tried to run away from them and they find out , what are they gonna do would they just gonna let her go away or they have plan?
Also I lovvee your writings šš«¶
Hi! Thank you so much for your ask.
I am happy you have enjoyed the AU! I am definitely going to do more parts, and I am sitting on 2.5k words of the next part. I swear!!! Lol. I have a lot of ideas I am excited about for that piece. It's just a matter of actually sitting my ass down to finish the next part. I always end up watching youtube or something whenever I have time to write.
The guys definitely have plans and won't let the reader just pop off without another word. There's kind of more to the story that they have yet to divulge. Plus, they do like reader, so they'd hate for them to move on.
Hope you have a great day, nonnie! I hope you see this š
fandom etiquette as a whole died when people who didnāt grow up on fandoms became stans during lockdown, yes, but why am i seeing people openly mocking fics on twitter. why am i seeing screenshots of fics with captions like ābro what is this š.ā why am i seeing people mock fic writers for not knowing how sports or theater or college or any other organization operates in the real world.
ācollege is absolutely nothing like thisā āwhy are we writing four people on the team scoring a hat trick in one gameā āso tech work is nothing like this, hope that helps!ā
if you donāt like a fic, and if you canāt suspend your belief enough to enjoy a fic that exaggerates or ignores real-world orgs, you donāt have to read it. you donāt have to screenshot it and put it on blast for twitter. you donāt have to post a link to it in the replies. the back button is literally there on your phone. itās not giving babyās first fandom anymore, itās giving entitled asshole and it isnāt as cute as you think it is.
hello! i drew some tiny rabbot badges that also constitute as profile pictures for anybody who wants to use them!! :] all i ask is that you credit me in your bio!!!
what do you do if you suspect that a cod writers post is AI generated but you donāt want to be rude and report / call them out especially if you donāt have solid proof?
Message them privately if you can and politely ask if they use AI. If they say no? Trust them!!
Yes, it sucks if a blog is posting ai slop and trying to pass it off as their own, but hunting down ai posters is MUCH worse.
"Rommy why? Shouldn't we as a fandom not tolerate ai?" Yes, but there's no way to actually identify ai writing. Ai is trained off of real writing and as such mimics real writing. So it is 100% feasible someone's writing "sounds like ai".
Because there's no way to verify AI writing, it is possible for certain genuine authors to be harassed for the crime of writing too closely to what people assume ai is like. It's a dangerous fandom environment. I'd much rather have the occasional and unfortunate slop around than have real people being bullied or harassed.
No solid proof? Leave it be!! Don't ever make a call-out post unless they themselves confirm the use of Ai.
Men, it really took me a long time to draw his face, it always came out awful. I've been working on this drawing for a month and I only finished it yesterday, haha
Hello, lovelies. I just wanted to pop up and share some writing for things I've managed to brain worm for lately. Just in the hope people will get hyped with me. It helps me be motivated if other people are around to share the fun.
Screenshots have potential spoilers, so just forewarning :)
Beneath The Rubble, Chapter 2 (Michael Robinavitch x spouse!reader)
Random Steve Harrington One Shot
Serial Killer Au, Part 7? 8? (Poly!141 x Reader)
Natural Instinct, Part 2 (Omega!John Price x Omega!John MacTavish)
Howdy, lovelies. I hope everyone is doing okay. I haven't been on here really, just trying not to be consumed by life and vibe. I wrote the tinest bit for a Johnny piece the other day, and that felt good. No worms have consumed me since, but it was still a huge feat.
Anyway, if anyone comes into my little corner today and sees this, you are lovely. Take care of yourself! Please. The world has been so dark lately. I hope you can find some love to lean on.
