Hello, everyone! I'm Aaron. This is a sideblog and my main is @the-whispers-of-death. My main is now being used solely for OC stuff and this blog will be used for my 141 x Reader stuff (because I think this will be better than having both on one blog). I will still have the old masterlists (somewhere on my blog, but I deleted the links on my pinned), but anything new will come from this blog.
Before you read further, please note that this is an MDNI account (which means no minors and no ageless blogs). I will block whoever has an ageless blog or is a minor!
Since this is an MDNI account, I do usually accept NSFW requests (though right now, I'm not really in the mood to do explicit NSFW requests. My mood with NSFW fluctuates so there will be times when an NSFW request just sits in my inbox).
Here are the rules for requesting NSFW.
Requests are open!
The Masterlists
The masterlists are done in order of when I posted them and these are individual masterlists which will tell you if the specific Reader is gender neutral or male. (Sorry, I don't write for female readers.) There are also one shots that will be in their separate masterlists and will be at the end of the post.
Thinking about you being underneath piles of rubble due to a grenade going off during the mission and you're stuck because there is just so much rubble. You can hear the rest of the 141 get out of the rubble and hear them tell each other that they're okay, they're uninjured.
Minutes start ticking by and you start thinking you won't be found. It's not because they're not trying to find you, they are, but there's just too much rubble near and on top of you. They're pulling rubble after rubble off, but not finding you.
It feels all hope is lost.
Until you hear Ghost shout right above you. You can't hear what he said exactly but suddenly, there are more hands rushing to the rubble and slowly but surely the sunlight is shining through the pile of rubble on top of you. It takes a little longer for them to fully get you out, but as soon as they see you, Price is pulling you into his arms.
Gaz and Soap are working on getting the other rubble off your legs so Price doesn't hurt you as he pulls. They all breath sighs of relief once you're enveloped in Price's arms.
Warmth fills you as you breathe the fresh air and hear the racing heart in Price's chest. You're safe. They found you and you're all together again.
Miraculously, none of you are injured. Bruised, but otherwise uninjured.
Price orders a strategic retreat in case the rest of the building comes down and Ghost helps you walk to the Jeep. He's telling you that everything is okay, that they all have you.
(NOTE: This is the second part to Vigilante!Reader and the first part can be found in this masterlist. The first part has a lot of the lore, so please go read that before this. This Reader is male!)
This has been in my drafts for far too long, but such is life. Sometimes motivation to write another part comes months later. Yes, I did write the majority of this months ago before finally finishing it today.
Summary: Your next meeting with Ghost is unexpected and at an unlikely place. Still, your cover must remain intact if you're to continue your crusade.
Word Count: 3,786
You shot arrow after arrow, watching each arrow hit a ball that got shot into the air by the cannon near you. The motions of you loading an arrow onto your bow and shooting it were repetitive, but instinctive. You always kept your archery skills sharp, since you mainly used your bow.
A ball dropped onto the ground, no arrow piercing it, as you heard a ding of your phone that you left on the desk behind you. You frowned, turning to glare at the phone as you wondered who was texting to you.
There weren't many who'd contact you, you were a loner despite your family's name. Oh, people tried to befriend you so they could use the wealth they thought you had, but you always saw through them. You were content with your solitude.
It wasn't like your family was rich anymore, your parents took most of it when you were a child and ran away. So the only thing keeping you and the rest of your family relevant was the legacy of what used to be, one of the founding families that built the city brick by brick. Literally build the city brick by brick; your great-great-grandparents wouldn't just fund construction of buildings, they'd go out and help the construction crew.
That left really only one person, your grandmother. Or Nana, as you called her. She was the only who you saw and talked to regularly, and she did like to check up on you when you went to the family cabin that was on the outskirts out the city.
The same cabin that you turned its basement into your little bunker for your vigilante needs.
Turning off the cannon and taking off your quiver, you walked over to the desk and set your bow and quiver down. You picked up the phone, peering at the screen to read your grandmother's text.
The charity ball Onyx Corp is hosting is at 6 PM, where are you? -Nana
You grimaced when you checked the clock to see it was already four and with how far in the city that the gala that was hosting the charity at, it would take you an hour to even get there from your cabin. You were going to cut it close, but it should be fine.
As long as you dressed right now.
The next few minutes were spent with you grabbing your phone and rushing upstairs to quickly dress. You didn't even think to text your grandmother that you were on your way, you just quickly put on your suit, made yourself presentable, and got out the door.
You didn't have a car, only a motorcycle, so you put on your helmet and started driving down the path that would lead you back to the city roads. Your suit jacket flapped in the wind and you got a brief adrenaline thrill of being on your motorcycle.
Thankfully, there was no traffic on the route you took, so you got to the gala in record time. You parked, took off your helmet, and made sure no one would steal your bike before you made your way to the front doors of the lavish building.
After going through security, you entered the building, instinctively smoothing out your suit as you saw guests in fancy suits and dresses. It had been a while since you had attended a fancy event like this and you were only attending this one because your grandmother said it was high time you reentered the sophisticated sphere of society.
That didn't stop you from squaring your shoulders and walking in like you hadn't spent a long time hiding in the shadows, however. You ignored all of the stares, walking to where your grandmother was chatting with other ladies her own age.
"Nana!" You said as you neared, letting a small smile form on your face. You opened your arms to hug her as it was yours and hers preferred form of greeting. "I see you've already started gossiping with your friends."
Nana laughed, knowing you were only teasing. "Gossiping is the best way to learn about all that is happening in the city," she replied, taking your arm and looping it through hers as she took you around the ballroom.
You raised an eyebrow, happily leaning into your grandmother's embrace. "Is that so? Perhaps you should tell me what is happening in the city, then. I'm out of the loop, Nana," you lied, wanting to know what she'd tell you.
Gossip was a good way to learn about what was happening in the city—second only to being there when the drama was happening. So Nana was unintentionally helping you out here, helping you be in the know to things you probably didn't know because you were focused on your self-appointed mission.
Nana launched into every piece of gossip that she knew, most of it you already knew. And that was fine, she didn't know you knew, so you just listened to her.
She eventually did say something interesting. Something so interesting.
"Oh, we have someone new coming to this charity ball," she said, her grin turning mischievous. "A supposedly very handsome man. They say he's a very good bodyguard for Onyx Incorporation, the best there is."
Your heartrate sped up, blood rushing to your ears as you took in your grandmother's words. You were too focused on her last sentence, ignoring her attempt at you getting interested in dating this "mystery" man.
He wasn't a mystery man to you. You still remembered your encounter with Ghost three days ago, remembering the thrill of having someone be relatively evenly matched with you. And you definitely remembered sparing his life to keep getting that thrill of a good fight.
Onyx Corp was letting their prized guard dog enter the snobby upper class society and they were doing it tonight. It could mean nothing, except the possibility of them having something valuable here in this building was too big for you to ignore.
However, you had to pretend not to be so eager to meet him. You had never been eager to meet, well, anyone. You weren't about to get your grandmother asking questions you couldn't truly answer by being too hasty in asking her for more details.
"Nana, a very handsome man? Really?" you asked, laughing as she squeezed your arm. You playfully rolled your eyes, smiling at her. "You're really determined to find me a boyfriend, huh?"
Ever since this year started, your grandmother was trying to set you up with man after man. She thought you were lonely, mistaking your prolonged living at the family cabin often as you having no friends.
Well, you didn't really have friends, but that was a choice you made and one you weren't regretting any time soon.
Nana sighed, her demeanor growing sad. "I know you like your solitude, {Name}, but I won't be around always. I'm an old woman who will die possibly one day soon and I want to make sure that when... when I go, you won't be alone," she explained, her eyes tearing up.
Your own eyes were tearing up at her words, your heart breaking at the thought of your grandmother not being in your life anymore. You cleared your throat, trying to stop both of you from crying. "You're right, Nana. I'll see if this new man is any better than the rest of these rich people," you said, trying to make her laugh.
Your words did the trick, a small smile breaking out on her face. She sniffled and pulled away from you, untangling her arm from yours. She gave your arm one last pat before turning away.
"That's all I ask of you, dear. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go powder my nose. Go mingle."
Now that she was gone and no longer taking your attention, you found yourself gravitating towards the walls of the ballroom. You were always a wallflower, content with watching people mingle rather than doing the mingling yourself.
Of course, there were those who didn't let you be a complete wallflower, going up to you and asking you questions. You entertained them, answering whatever you could stomach answering.
The small conversations were boring, but talking about the interior design of the gala gave you an opportunity to case out how many security guards were in the room and where they were. Every so often, someone would give you a small piece of gossip; it was nothing too interesting in terms of your crusade, but they were entertaining pieces of gossip nonetheless.
Finally, the man you were waiting for walked into the ballroom.
All eyes were on him, taking in his tall stature and burly build hiding beneath the surprisingly spotless suit he wore. His brown eyes scanned everyone in turn, being cold and emotionless which made the scars on his face look scarier. He was imposing and terrifying all at once, drawing you in and making you want to draw away at the same time.
You didn't need to know his face to know he was Ghost, you had seen those brown eyes in your dreams so much that you could recognize him easily. All you had to do was imagine a skull mask on his face and you could see the man you had met before.
Ghost ignored the stares as he walked further into the ballroom, his suit jacket buttoned up in a way that no one who wasn't looking as hard as you were wouldn't notice the gun holstered at his side. He was armed despite being a guest at the gala.
How interesting.
As soon as he had grabbed a glass of champagne, people were flocking towards him like moths to a flame. They were quick to talk to him, asking him this or that.
You didn't move an inch from where you were standing, looking away from where Ghost was to look at others. You knew he'd eventually get overwhelmed and would come to stand near the walls, and then you could talk to him.
You just had to be patient. You could be patient.
It took longer than you were expecting, mostly because people weren't letting Ghost leave the middle area of the gala, but he eventually found his way near you. It seemed like he only noticed you then, his eyes having caught you out of the corner of his eye.
There was a small glint of intrigue in his eyes and you raised a disinterested eyebrow, drawing him closer to you. His footsteps nearing you were music to your ears, his cologne of the night wafting off him as he stopped beside you.
His cologne was so strong, you wondered if he was trying to hide the stench of blood.
"Hiding in the shadows, are you?" he asked, his deep voice cutting through all of the noise of others talking to each other. His voice was just as you remembered it, strong just like the man beside you. "You are one of the very few who are standing away from everyone else."
"I'm not much for socializing," you answered, taking a sip of your champagne that you had been nursing for a while.
His dark eyes flitted down to your glass, noting how little you had drunk. With one glance, he seemed to read you all too well as he said, "You're not even letting yourself get tipsy."
On instinct, you drank another sip to try and pretend like you weren't doing anything wrong. "I don't quite like getting buzzed." Despite having just taken a sip, your mouth was dry, though you tried your best to hide it.
Ghost eyed you for a while, just staring at you. His eyes locked onto yours when you turned your head to stare back at him and they twinkled with amusement at how easily you had given up the information you were trying to stay sober.
"It's better to watch the others get drunk than to be drunk yourself," he joked, cracking the smallest of smiles which made you shudder—but not in fear. He cleared his throat, seeming to remember his manners. "I'm Simon Riley, in case you're wondering."
You told him your name and engaged in small talk with him for a while. The conversation was going well, until you couldn't help yourself.
"How is your head?" you asked, forgetting that you're not supposed to know he has a head injury. At his brows furrowing in confusion, you added, "There's a bump on your head, so I just thought...You might be in pain."
Ghost—Simon—lifted his hand up to feel the back of his head where you—it was the Grim Reaper to him—had smashed his head against the wall three days ago. As soon as he had touched the bump, he grimaced.
"I'm fine, the doctor my employers hires have cleared me with a full bill of health. It'll hurt for a few more days, but no permanent side effects."
"You got hurt on the job?"
Simon gave you another crooked smile. "That's the price to pay to have the job I do. I'm used to it, don't worry."
It was then that you realized you were raising your hand, presumably to touch his bump. You quickly let your hand fall, hoping he didn't notice.
"I'm not worried, I don't even know you to worry about you. I'm just being polite."
"Shame," he replied, leaning against the wall. He kept eye contact with you, no less intense than when he first came to you. "I wouldn't mind you worrying about me."
You laughed, making sure he could tell you were shaking your head at him. "With the way those women are looking at you," you said, gesturing to the small group of young women who were all glancing at Simon, "I don't think you're out of options for people to worry about you."
He sighed, looking in the direction of the women. "How do you deal with it?" His head swung back towards to you, as if you held all of the answers. "How do you deal with the snobby rich people? Though I suppose, you're also one of them."
"Not really, my family hasn't been truly rich since I was very young and now we only get invited to these things because of the legacy we have. I won't get into how we went from a rich family to a not-so rich family, you can easily get the information if you look it up."
Your grip on your glass tightened, trying to calm the rage that was bubbling up inside you due to the memories resurfacing. You remembered the day your parents left you with nothing so well, but this was neither the time nor place to reminsince.
"As for dealing with the snobby people, you just have to let them talk themselves into boredom. You can't really escape them if they truly want your attention, so it's best to let them decide that you're not worth the attention like they thought you were. It isn't very pleasant, but it's how I deal with them."
The music changed to a slow song perfect for slow dancing, several guests abandoning their glasses of champagne and making a makeshift dance floor. One of the women who had been staring at Simon before was coming up to you and him, clearly intent on asking him to dance.
"I know I have no standing to ask you for a favor, but please dance with me before she can ask me to dance with her." Simon was already grabbing your hand, not yet pulling you along. He was looking at you expectantly, hoping you'd play along.
You glanced at where Nana was, seeing her grinning at you and giving you a thumbs-up. It seemed like you'd be helping yourself out, along with Simon.
"Alright, but just one dance," you said, following Simon's lead to the dance floor. Your body felt so warm, so aware of your hand in his. "After that, I throw you to the wolves and let them beg you to dance with them."
As soon as you two got onto the dance floor, Simon let go of your hand to put his own hands on your waist and he gently pulled you closer until your chests were flush against each other's. "You're going to want to keep dancing with me after this one dance," he murmured, sounding so cocky.
You were not impressed with his words. You simply wrapped your arms around his neck.
"We'll see. Don't get your hopes up."
You two swayed to the music, so close that it was hard to escape looking into each other's eyes. His breath was hitting your cheek, your bodies so unbearably close in the best way possible. The world seemed to fade away until all you could see was him.
"How did you get into working for Onyx Corp?" you asked, breaking the silence. You were curious, wanting to get to know more about the man in front of you despite your crusade.
This was one of the few nights you were letting yourself relax, so you might as well get to know someone tonight. It didn't help that you were learning more about the man you'd eventually have to defeat if your crusade had any chance of succeeding.
Simon didn't seem suspicious of your question as he said, "I needed a job after retiring from the military and Onyx Corp needed a bodyguard for their CEO. They offered me good pay and so I took it."
"You were in the military?"
Your mind was reeling with this information, wondering how you took out a military-trained man. You were trained well with a bow, but you weren't trained in fighting as much as Simon was.
And yet, you two had been evenly matched.
Had he been going easy on you when you were fighting? He did say he had wanted a fight that wasn't easy.
Damn, he potentially had been pulling his punches.
"Are you not into veterans?" Simon asked, thinking your shock was because you had a bad opinion of the military and the soldiers serving in it.
Despite being unsure of you and your opinions, his hand moved from your waist to the small of your back, as if the touch could convince you to forget everything and focus on just the man he was now.
You couldn't deny that the touch was making you lose focus on the self-pity you were feeling. You could barely think of anything except for the large hand splayed across your back.
You cleared your throat, trying to gather your thoughts. "It's not that, I'm just surprised. I shouldn't have been surprised though, you do have the stature of a soldier," you answered, trying to reassure him. “Thank you for your service.”
He grimaced at that, clearly uncomfortable with being thanked for serving in the military, but he didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he leaned in and kissed your cheek. "I'm glad I haven't scared you away."
The touch made you melt and your lips twitched into a smile. You two continued to dance together until the end of the song and then you two pulled apart. You recognized the cold feeling that came when his hands left you, but you knew it was fleeting.
You were about to go back to your corner of the ballroom to hide in the shadows again when whispers filled the room, the music coming to an abrupt stop. All around you, guests were pulling their phones out of their pockets and purses, getting news updates from social media.
"The Grim Reaper was seen fleeing an Onyx Corp warehouse just three minutes ago," a woman whispered to her friend. Her eyes were stuck to her phone screen as she kept reading. "The warehouse was robbed and several workers in the warehouse were killed, along with most of the guards. The poor families of the deceased..."
Her words didn't make sense to you, as you were the Grim Reaper. There must be a copycat at work, one with a penchant for bloodshed.
Your head was spinning and you quickly came back to reality when Simon gently took your hand to get your attention. Your eyes snapped to his, seeing an apologetic look on his face.
"I am so sorry to leave you in the lurch," he said, sounding sincere. "I had a nice time together, but I have to go. I should try and intercept the vigilante."
You nodded, still in shock. "Of course, go."
As soon as he had left you, you grabbed your phone to verify what was being sad. You had turned on notifications to a local news app and you clicked on the first notification you saw, the notification opening your phone to the news article.
There was a huge but grainy photo of someone fleeing from the warehouse, in clothes that were eerily similar to the black leather suit you wore to protect your identity. Someone definitely was playing copycat.
With your mind set on finding the copycat, you moved through the crowd of guests who were rushing to each other to gossip. You saw the head of your grandmother and you went to her.
"Oh how awful of news," Nana muttered as soon as you two reunited. "Those poor workers. They were just doing their jobs."
"Nana, I'm going to go," you said, getting her attention. You leaned over, kissing her forehead. "The roads are probably backed by now if the police are chasing the vigilante. I don't want to get stuck in the city."
You were lying through your teeth but it had to be done. No one could know what you were doing, most of all your grandmother. She would forgive you, hopefully.
Nana bid you goodbye, knowing you hated being in the city any longer than you had to be. There was no point in staying anyways, the charity ball was dwindling down now that everyone else was having the same idea as you.
Exiting the building took a lot longer than you wanted and you resolved yourself to discarding your previous plan of going to put on your vigilante suit first. There was no time and no guarantee you'd be able to get back into the city. Your only choice was hoping to catch the copycat with just your motorcycle helmet to protect your identity.
You got to your motorcycle and put on your helmet, getting on the motorcycle and revving the engine. The chase was on as you sped down the streets, weaving in and out of the lanes.
Hopefully you could find them in time.
Flower banner made by @/dollywons and reblog & mdni dividers made by @/cafekitsune
Do you have any like long fics? (Like with chapters and stuff)
Kinda, I don't know if you consider them long fics if they're still Tumblr posts. Or if you would consider them long.
The COD AUs, Beauty & the Beast, Life/Death, & Regency Era are technically long fics in my head because I actually wrote them out in work form instead of just as drabbles. The longest is the COD AU: Life/Death which has four parts written which I know is not long but while I haven't worked on it yet, it is meant to be long.
It's just that I have trouble planning stuff and then I get new inspiration quite easily. But I plan on going back to the COD AUs (and the other Readers) someday soon.
I'm sorry, that's probably not the answer you're looking for, but it's the only answer I have.
Regency AU with Simon as a Duke but you're his butler...
You two exchange longing glances frequently and your casual touches always lingers for far too long than they should. You just want to have him but you're not of high standing in society so you're forced to sneak around with him.
Oh, those nights in his study where the only light is from one or two small candles because Sir Riley doesn't want anyone to happen upon you two locked in a loving embrace. His arms wrapped around you as he devours the taste of you as he kisses you.
You indulge in improper manners as you moan "Simon" in-between kisses instead of his proper title, giving yourself the intimacy that you should not have. But you know he doesn't mind as he pulls you in closer and his kisses become more fevered.
He wants you and you want him. But it will never last.
So you might as well take everything you can get before it all falls apart.
I'm back to writing for COD characters!! Sorry, I was gone for so long. Of course, I have to feed my fellow Gaz lovers because they deserve the content. However, this is 18+ ONLY content as it is SMUT. So consider this your warning.
Summary: Your boyfriend, Kyle, and you are horny. After months of being on a mission and unable to release the pent-up tension between you two, you ended up not even making it to the bedroom when you two came to Kyle's flat. Finally, it's time for you two get what you've waited for so long.
Content Warning: Cis Male Reader, Top Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Bottom Male Reader, Dom Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Sub Male Reader, Edging, Anal Sex, Rough Sex, Hairpulling, Petnames (love, sweetheart), Aftercare, Not Beta-Read/Proofread.
Word Count: 1, 357
You presented your naked body to your boyfriend as you were on all fours on the couch, your ass high in the air with your needy cock dripping between your legs. Every nerve on your body was ablaze, your ears perking up as you heard your boyfriend slowly take off his clothes.
It was so slow that you were certain he was doing it on purpose. He always did like to tease you, put you in your place by making you a needy mess for him. You never minded, as it always made the sex that much more mind-blowing.
"Kyle, please. Please fuck me," you said, unable to hold back the whine in your voice. You managed to push your hips up higher, as if to entice him. "Please, please, please."
Kyle gave a chuckle in response. "You're so needy for me, love. I just can't help but tease you." His pants and boxers finally dropped to his feet and he stepped out of them, kicking them away somewhere where he'd have to find them later. "Oh, look at you. So beautiful."
You preened at his words, pride filling in your chest at the lust lacing his voice. You always did like when he was as needy as you.
A gasp left you as he came closer, his calloused hands settling onto your hips. He squeezed your hips and then ran one hand down your ass until the pads of his fingers went near your aching hole.
He chuckled once more as he gave your hole a stroke and felt it twitch beneath his fingers.
"It's a good thing I keep a small bottle of lube in my pants, isn't it, sweetheart? This greedy hole wouldn't be able to handle waiting for me to get the lube from the bedroom."
You heard the lid of the bottle pop off the bottle and you only had to wait a few seconds before Kyle's lubed fingers prodded at your hole once more. A groan slipped past your slips as one finger pressed inside, sinking into your awaiting heat.
It had been a while since the last time you two had sex, so Kyle wasn't going to risk hurting you by being too hasty. However, you were too needy even when his finger pressed against your prostate.
You moaned loudly at the action, heat starting to pool into your stomach. "Please, Kyle. Don't tease me, please." You were panting now, so in need of your boyfriend's cock inside of you.
You jolted a bit in surprise when Kyle's other hand smacked your ass, the sound of echoing throughout the otherwise empty flat. Your own cock leaked at the smack, finding pleasure in it.
"I will go at my own pace," Kyle said, his other hand snaking up your back until his fingers found their way into your hair. With a grip on your hair, he pulled your head back and made your arch your back. "You need to learn patience, love. But don't worry, I'll teach you."
He went back to thrusting his finger inside of you at a snail's pace, drawing this out to punish you. He ignored your needy whines, purposefully hitting your prostate every chance he got.
He was enjoying this, if the hard cock pressed against your ass was anything to go by.
Finally, he added another finger. He was still going slowly, but at least he was now stretching your hole to take his cock instead of just teasing you.
Just when you were about to beg him for more, Kyle pulled his fingers out of you. He shushed your protests by lubing up his cock and pressing his cockhead against the tight ring of your hole. His hands gripped your hips once more to steady himself as he slowly pushed inside.
You forced yourself to relax despite your instincts to tense, knowing that the slight pain at the intrusion would fade away soon. Your hole was sucking in Kyle, wanting him deeper until you were so full that you would be feeling it for days. Your hands gripped the leather material of the couch beneath you, soft moans slipping from your lips.
Kyle groaned at the feeling of you around him, murmuring words of approval.
"That's it, love. Take my cock, just like that. Such a good lad for me. You can take it, can't you?"
You were too needy to reply so you ended up nodding enthusiastically. Pleasure was washing off you in waves, your legs trembling as you felt your boyfriend push deeper inside you. Feeling his hips finally touch yours when he bottomed out felt heavenly, feeling full for the first time in months.
He waited a few moments for you to adjust before he pulled out slowly until only his tip was inside you. Then, without warning, he snapped his hips forward, setting out a rough rhythm. He pressed his chest to your back, pinning you down as he thrusted hard and fast.
Grunts and moans filled the air, reminding you that you weren't the only one who was needy. You both had been waiting for this moment, waiting for the time you could finally enjoy each other.
With each thrust, he was hitting your prostate and making the pleasure inside you spike. You were making a mess on the couch, your leaky cock rubbing against the leather with each thrust. Your body was getting hotter and hotter, the pleasure building and building until it threatened to burst and wash over you.
Your orgasm was drawing nearer.
You were babbling about how close you were, how you were going to come, when Kyle's hips stuttered a stop. You first thought he had orgasmed himself, but you felt no hot cum filling you up.
With your body twitching with pleasure, your hazy mind managed to realize what he was doing. He was edging you.
You let out a loud whine and Kyle started thrusting again, at the rough pace he was going before. The pleasure was back to building once more.
However, every time you'd get close, he'd stop cold. He'd wait a minute or two before starting again, effectively keeping you on the edge and not letting you come.
"Please," you managed to say, filled with the desperate need of coming. Your legs felt like jello and your arms were no longer holding you up. "Please let me cum. Please!"
"Not yet, sweetheart." Kyle's thrusts stopped once more, putting the orgasm out of your reach. "I know you can take it. I know you can wait like the good boy you are. So keep waiting for me, love."
It was an endless cycle of pleasure and denial of what you truly wanted and time blurred together. You didn't know how long you spent, so full but so unfulfilled at the same time.
Finally, just as your own orgasm was building for the nth time, Kyle's thrusts got sloppy. He was getting close too and this time, he was going to take you two over the edge.
The pleasure was blinding as the tight knot in your stomach unraveled, your loud moans accompanying Kyle's groans. Your body tensed and quivered as the orgasm washed over you, a feeling of peace accompanying the intense of pleasure. Your cum stained the couch, but you couldn't care in that moment.
You felt Kyle's cum fill you up, his hips pumping it deep inside you before they slowed down to a complete stop. His hands massaged your hips, comforting you.
Kyle pulled out after he caught his breath, leaving you empty. "You did so well, sweetheart," he murmured as he went to the bathroom. He came back not shortly after with a wet rag. "I'm so proud of you, love. Such a good boy for me."
The praise made your eyes droop, the sex having drained all of the energy that you had left. You were content with letting Kyle take care of you and clean you up.
Just as he lifted you up to carry you to bed, your lost the battle with sleep and closed your eyes, drifting off to a peaceful sleep.
Flower banner made by @/dollywons and reblog & mdni dividers made by @/cafekitsune
Imagine being King!Gaz's knight.... Seeing how benevolent and pretty he is in person... Being able to touch him, but only in the appropriate places at the appropriate times...
You stand behind his throne while he deals with conflicts his subjects are having, hearing his smooth voice never waver but always having a tone of authority. His crown is heavy on his head but he seems to wear it with ease, solidifying your faith in him. With each subject he soothes and compromises with, your loyalty to him grows and grows.
You walk behind in as he takes a trip around the palace gardens, the sun shining down on him and illuminating his heavenly presence. Your eyes catch the way the sun twinkles in his brown eyes and the way the shadow dance across his face every time he turns away from the sun to smell a flower. His smooth fingers reach out to stroke a flower's petals and you wish he was stroking your cheek instead.
And oh how torturous it seems to stand beside the bathtub as servants wash him, knowing that your presence here is solely to protect him in his vulnerable state. The way you have to fight the urge to take a longer look at his body than the glimpses you accidentally see due to the natural way your eyes draw towards him whenever he moves in the bath. You long to set your hands upon him and take over the servants' jobs, yearning to pick up the wash cloth and wash him gently.
Being King!Gaz's knight, while the highest honor you could ever have, is a curse in and of itself. You have so much love and yearning for him, but decorum dictates he is never yours.
fluff with Simon because part 3 was highly requested!! <3
[Part I] [Part II]
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Simon and you have gotten closer over the last few weeks. Sometimes eat or chill together to avoid the solitude. Close enough that he lets you put your legs over his lap while you watch a movie together, but not close to the point where he feels comfortable showing you every part of his body.
Sweat is dripping from his blond hair down his forehead as Simon does pushups in your living room. It’s very hot - the weather (and him too) - and there’s nothing better than working out wearing nothing but sweatpants and a tank top, enough to cover up his scars and battle wounds but the view-
He stands up and grabs his towel when he’s done working out, wiping his forehead and throwing it over his shoulder as he smirks at you.
"What?" you ask, acting clueless as you both stare at each other - you, staring at his face trying so hard to focus on him and not his muscles. Simon staring back at you, his usually stoic gaze once again turning soft. It's happening way too often and he struggles to deny it; he's in love.
"Nothing," he mutters and takes a step toward you, cupping your cheek in his hand and tilting your head up to look at him. His thumb softly rubs over your cheekbone as he leans closer. He can't believe it himself, he doesn't know what he's doing but it feels so damn right.
"Simon," you whisper, letting out a shaky breath, but he shushes you. His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, the chocolate brown in his eyes turning gold as the sunset's light hits his face just right.
Your hand moves to his shoulder, his to your lower back as if to guide you closer and closer until your lips finally touch. He closes his eyes, tilting his head to the side a little as he lets out a soft sigh. You pull away to catch your breath, but he leans closer again, his hands on your waist as he straightens up.
A few seconds pass like that, you in his arms, your lips against his, until he realises what just happened and pulls away. He smiles and leans his forehead against yours, caressing your cheek while his other arm wraps tightly around you, as if he's scared to let you go. And deep down in his heart, he knows that he is.
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Thank you so so much for all the positive feedback on the last two parts of this, it made me really happy! I'm thinking of writing two or three more parts to this so if you want to be in the taglist, write a comment or dm me
Thanks again for all the positive feedback and much much love to y'all <3
Fluffy Simon “Ghost” Riley cause part one was so cute
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The temperatures are rising again, and Simon hates it. He’s gotten so used to being in the cold while the soft scarf and hat you knit for him keep him warm. Knit, self-made, not quite with blood, sweat and tears but with love, and that’s what matters to him. That’s what brings a faint, barely-there smile to his face and makes his eyes sparkle a little.
It sadly doesn’t smell like you anymore, but he’s happy enough to spend some time with you when you invite him over for breakfast every now and then.
Just a neighbour, he thinks to himself.
But now, spring is coming and he has to put your gifts in a drawer, tucked away from him. It’s too warm for gloves and a scarf after all. And still, it’s all he can think about when he walks to the grocery store.
He’s asked you if you need something, silently begging that you’ll send him with a two page list because damn it feels so domestic. Even if it’s just some fruits you asked him to get, he can’t help but feel… proud? Satisfied? Happy? He feels a certain kind of way, and though he can’t describe it, he likes it.
It’s no surprise that he stands at your door half an hour later - the surprise is that he has flowers in his hand. It’s not a handmade scarf and hat, but it’s something that he hopes you’ll like.
His gaze softens when he sees the look in your eyes, the hint of confusion mixed with happiness.
He’s making you happy.
He clears his throat and holds the bouquet in front of your chest like a ten year old confessing to his crush. “For you.”
You take the flowers with a smile and god that smile. He’d die to see that smile again. “Thank you, Simon.”
He nods, expression stoic as always but if only you could see what you do to him.
He’s never felt this way before but he loves it.
He loves you.
Too early?
“Here’s your-”
Before he can finish his sentence, you stand on your toes to kiss his cheek.
Simon loves winter. It may be very cold in England, but that just gives him an excuse to stay inside when he's not deployed. Besides, it's very cosy. The dim lights illuminating his home, the smell of whatever you're cooking in your apartment reaching his own, your soft voice filling his ears through the thin walls.
He likes winter almost as much as he likes his sweet neighbour.
But every now and then, he has to leave for a mission, and every now and then, you notice how cold he is. Of course you know that the tall, buff man is a soldier, and you've rarely seen his face other than the few times you came home at the same time as him.
Besides his winter clothes and gloves, he only wears his balaclava with the signature skull on it. And you can't help but feel bad for him. So alone, so cold and distant from the other neighbours. And when he's back, he's surprised to find you knocking on his door early in the morning.
Soft eyes looking up at him, warm smile on your lips and god you're pretty.
"Morning," he grumbles in his deep voice, his tall and bulky form clearly intimidating - he's still in work mode.
"Good morning," you say and straighten up, nervously glancing down at the knitted hat and matching scarf. "I uhm, I made you this."
Simon tilts his head, crosses his arms and looks down at the items in your hands. It's strange, the way his heart skips a beat and his chest fills with warmth and the grumpy frown on his lips melts into something calmer, less tense. He looks you up and down - breakfast right at his door.
"How much?" he asks as he turns around, opening the drawer of the small accent table by the door.
You blink a few times in surprise and furrow your brows. "Sorry?"
He looks at you, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I don't like to owe things to people. How much did you pay for that?"
You shake your head quickly. "No, no I made this myself. Learned how to knit," you explain and chuckle nervously, once again looking down at the hat and the scarf.
His gaze softens, filled almost entirely with warmth. Learned how to knit. For me, Simon thinks, and though the last two words might seem a little delusional, they mean everything to him. This is the most someone has cared for him in years, outside the military of course.
He hesitantly takes the scarf from your hands, running his thumb over the soft fabric. It's made out of black wool, a little too fluffy for his liking but you made it for him. He takes the hat with a small smile and looks at you. "Thank you."
"Oh, it was nothing," you say, voice soft and sweet. "I figured it would be a nice way to keep you warm during your deployments and stuff."
With each and every word, Simon feels himself falling more and more for you, his heart melting in his chest. So considerate. "Thank you." He steps aside. "Do you want to stay for breakfast?"
Of course, you can't say no to him and once you're inside, in his home, he closes the door and watches as you walk ahead into his kitchen. With a weak, hesitant motion, he smells the scarf. It smells like you. It smells like his future spouse.
Content: Talk of Religion, Cis Male!Reader, Bottom!Reader, Top!Ghost, Breeding Kink
Religious!Ghost who believes that sex should only be done to reproduce and so every time you two get horny, he refuses to put on a condom. He'll push his cock into you with words of knocking you up on his tongue, even if you can't actually bear children.
He places his hand on your stomach, murmuring about how good you'll look with a baby bump. The image is enough to make him fuck you harder, pressing his hips closer against yours until you feel so full of him. His touch is desperate, eager to sate his fantasies.
He says that God would want this, would want you to be a good boy and be bred in the way only Simon can breed you. He thrusts relentlessly, pulling you into the fantasy of being bred with him. He won't let up on his thrusts until you say you want him to breed you, to pump you full of his cum so it can take.
Simon will hold your cock at the base of your cock, withholding your orgasm until you beg him to let you come. Until you ramble about how badly you want his children.
He'll keep you on edge until he's ready to come inside you, his hold on the base of your cock loosening as his thrusts get sloppier. His nerves are ablaze with euphoria and he groans in your ear about how he's going to come inside of you. His hips stutter and he fully sheathes himself inside as he comes, filling you up.
Simon coos at you when your own orgasm takes over you, praising you for allowing him to breed you. He'll take good care of you and your children, he promises you he will. You won't regret letting him breed you.
And when it turns out that you don't become pregnant after the first time, well, he'll just have to keep breeding you, won't he?
Ghost was in need of a new sword, his old one breaking in a recent match at the Colosseum. His patron was extremely wealthy and thus, he was able to get Ghost's new sword made by the best blacksmith in Rome: you.
He stood outside the forge, staying out of your way while still having you in his line of sights.
While it wasn't unusual for you to make swords for gladiators, it was unusual that a gladiator came and watched you work. All of the gladiators who could afford your services were those with patrons, patrons who would send their servants to pick up the swords and pay you. You rarely saw a gladiator at your forge, until now.
You slammed your heavy hammer down onto the melted metal, shaping it into a sword. You could feel the gladiator's eyes on you, but you focused on your work. You were sweating from the heat and despite it, you were undeterred.
Ghost's brown eyes took in the way you moved, the elegance in your walk despite the heavy tools you were lifting. He took in the way the soot from the fire in the forge settled onto your muscles, dusting your skin as it always did while you worked.
The sight was tantalizing to him. There was something about the way you focused on your task, the world around you fading until all that remained was the work you were doing. He was entranced by your work ethic, by your muscles, by you in general.
He made himself comfortable, enjoying the way he could look upon you and forget all of the fighting he has done prior to meeting you. All of the blood that stained his hands.
When you finally finished the sword and put it in his hands, he felt your calloused fingers brush against his as you pulled away. For once in his life, he felt the touch of another and didn't feel like he was tainting someone. He knew you had done hard work just like he had done and that made his heart swell.
As Ghost turned on his heel and left, he thought about upgrading his daggers next. They were old too, in need of being polished and refined by a blacksmith as skilled as you were.
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Hope this was alright! It's been a little too long since I've created COD content, lol.
I’m not sure if you do these but can you post this to help me find a fic? Basically reader is in 141 and is shot and held captive. They were presumed dead but had a plated skull that stopped the bullet. Eventually, they get to a phone and call base and are rescued. They end up living with Ghost during recovery and it gets fluffy/smutty when they reveal their insecurities about how they look now.
Sure!
If anyone knows about this fic, please comment below!
(NOTE: This is the second part of a COD Regency AU, the first part is here.)
This took longer than I had expected, oof. But it is finally written, so I can't complain.
Anyways, like last time, Reader is male.
Summary: It's time for the first ball of the season and this time, Susannah has a suitor to impress. Meanwhile, Lord Riley is getting closer to you, wanting your presence beside him.
Word Count: 1,899
You resisted the urge to fiddle with your gloves, waiting in the main foyer for Susannah.
She was taking longer than you expected to get ready, but perhaps that was to be expected. She had accepted the deal Lord Riley had made and thus for this deal to work, she had to pretend to impress him so well that he'd want to start courting her. This was not only because she had to fool the ton, but she also had to fool your mother.
"One might think you're the one who had to impress suitors," Mama said, her voice biting as she stared at you being fidgety. She slapped your hands down until they stopped fiddling with your gloves, her hands not being kind to you in her actions. "Stop it. You're the man of the house, the Baron. You can't go acting like you're a child who has no clue what you're doing."
You nodded in agreement, deciding to tightly clasp your hands behind your back so you no longer fiddle with the gloves. The seconds seemed to tick slowly, your impatience growing as you all waited for Susannah.
Susannah finally came down the stairs, wearing this gorgeous red-lilac gown adorned with gold beads, her gloves matching the gown. Around her neck was a gold necklace that surely must've cost more than anything you were wearing, Susannah having chosen something that was an eye-catcher to draw Lord Riley in.
You had been conversing with the lord for the past week via letters and learned red and lilac were his favorite colors, so you had been sure to tell Susannah so she could buy a dress Lord Riley would love. You had to sell this ruse, for it to work, which meant she had to make his breath hitch.
A small red rose was clipped to the breast of your tailcoat, as you had been unable to resist adding one of Lord Riley's colors to your outfit.
Mama looked at Susannah with pride, her smile genuine when it came to her daughters. "Look at you, a gem in the making. All the lords will be fawning over you," she said, helping Susannah down the last few steps.
"Lord {Last Name}, the carriage is ready for you," the footman of the carriage said, having come inside to tell you.
"Shall we?" You asked your family, gesturing for them to lead. You stepped aside so your mother could lead Susannah outside.
You were the last one out of the house, the footmen closing the doors behind you. Walking to the carriage, you tried to steel your nerves, hoping this ruse worked.
The journey to the ball was silent, with no one wanting to talk and break it by saying something potentially awkward. Even your mother ignored Susannah's fidgeting so she didn't have to be the first one to speak.
All too soon, the carriage stopped at the manor hosting the ball and you got out with your family following.
Since you were the man of the house, you looped your arm with Susannah's, leading her up the steps and inside the manor. You followed the procession of guests who had come just a few moments before your family did, following them to the ballroom.
Susannah had done so well dressing up nicely that when you two entered, all eyes were on her. She didn't buckle under all the attention, keeping her head high like she wasn't internally screaming with nerves.
It helped that you led her around like you had so much experience showing off your debutante sister. You made your way to the king and the queen were lounging around, waiting in line with Susannah to greet the pair of royals.
The line went quickly and when you two finished greeting the royals, you let her mingle. You didn't go far, knowing that suitors would soon flock to her and you didn't want her to become overwhelmed.
You watched on, watching her talk to her friends while sometimes engaging in conversations with suitors. You saw that your mother was pleased, her eyes twinkling as she watched Susannah as well.
The man you were waiting for arrived, Lord Riley's cane clacking against the ballroom floor being heard before you saw him. All eyes turned onto him, seeing him walk inside the ballroom with his head held high.
He was wearing your favorite color and he looked so handsome in it, your breath catching in your throat as he walked towards the king and queen with a determined stride. With him needing to greet the royals first, it gave you time to walk over to Susannah and wait for him to come to her when he was done.
Your heart was fluttering and you had to remind yourself that Lord Riley was here for your sister, not you. Or well, he was pretending to be here for your sister.
Lord Riley finished greeting the royals and immediately turned towards where you and Susannah were just milling about, waiting for him. His strides remained confident as he walked over, giving a subtle glance over at you and Susannah.
You were pleased when he seemed to have a sparkle in his eye when he caught the red rose attached to the breast of your tailcoat. He seemed to like it very much, exactly as you had wanted him to.
"Lord {Last Name}, Miss {Last Name}, good evening to you both." Lord Riley greeted you two, bowing to you both as he did so.
"My Lord," you and Susannah both replied, bowing as well.
Lord Riley's brown eyes lingered on you briefly before turning to Susannah. "M'lady, you are looking marvelous tonight," he murmured, sounding sincere as he took her gloved hand and placed a kiss on it.
You had the strangest need for him to kiss your hand like he had hers. You wanted his attention, despite how improper it would be to have it during the ball.
Susannah grew flustered at the compliment and hastily searched for a compliment to give to the lord, complimenting his cane. The conversation was a little awkward, but she was handling it wonderfully.
You kept standing by your sister's side until Lord Riley asked her for a dance. You secretly wished you could dance with him, but you settled for watching him dance with Susannah.
Even with his limp, Lord Riley was dancing gracefully, leading Susannah well through the dance as the music played. Each step was a brushstroke to a larger masterpiece, one that played out through your eyes in real-time.
They were standing at a respectable distance as they danced, but each dance was always intimate in its own way. The eye contact that was held, the gentle grips of each other's hands, and their respective touches on each other's bodies (hers on his shoulders and his on her waist). You knew from experience of dancing with other ladies that he could see the subtle flecks in her iris, he could see her makeup up close and personal.
God, you wished you could see the flecks of color in his eyes, hold his hand and shoulder. He was a masterpiece, but one that was out of reach for you to see.
The dance, finally, ended and they pulled away.
Susannah got pulled into another dance with another lord, but as if they had thought of how to pull this ruse off together, none of her other dances had the same chemistry as hers and Lord Riley's did. Everyone who wasn't dancing was quickly murmuring about how well Susannah and Lord Riley clicked, how it was like sparks had ignited as soon they had met.
You were too busy watching your mother brag to her friends about her daughter managing to catch the eye of an earl to notice Lord Riley sliding up to you and taking in the image of you.
"Are you wishing that I had danced with you?" he asked, his voice a low murmur which quickly made you aware of his presence beside you. He stared at you beneath hooded eyes, his gaze steady as you turned to face him.
"Is it wrong of me to indeed wish we had danced together?" you asked in return, your hands feeling sweaty beneath your gloves as you stared into his eyes.
It felt wrong to even admit that you had wished to dance with him, but at this moment, you felt so safe with him. You felt like you could say anything and he wouldn't judge you.
Lord Riley's face brightened as his lips pulled into a smile, making his scarred face look more handsome. "I too wish we could've danced," he admitted freely once he made sure no one else was nearby. His lips parted as he continued to stare at you. "Forgive me for being so bold, but you draw me in like no other. It was very hard to keep my eyes on your sister while dancing when all they wanted was to look upon you."
Your heart skipped a beat and you had to hide a smile, knowing that you'd be beaming too much that others would become curious. You couldn't believe your ears, but perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised.
You hadn't just taken up the offer of Lord Riley being Susannah's suitor, but also the offer of you two being... friends. You had bonded over your mutual attraction to men and he had often written about his desires for you in the letters you two exchanged.
You weren't in the place to express your desires for him yet, but you had let him know that his doing so wasn't unwelcoming for you.
You wetted your dry lips with your tongue, trying to wet your dry mouth. "I draw you in?" you asked, unable to help yourself from wanting to know more.
"I long to be beside you exactly as I am now, the two of us so close," Lord Riley answered, his free hand that wasn't holding his cane twitching with the need to touch you. He groaned softly, forcing himself to place his hand behind his back. "If we were in my manor, I wouldn't hesitate to draw you closer to me. To give you the dance we both wish to have."
"Perhaps one day," you said too quickly for your liking. Your heart was pounding in your chest, a warmth filling your body as you thought about the two of you dancing with no eyes upon you two. "Perhaps I could come over one day and we can have that dance."
"I'd love that."
The rest of the ball wasn't as exciting as the beginning of it was and you could tell your family were slowly starting to get tired, especially Susannah who had been dancing with lords left and right for most of the night. You had stayed next to Lord Riley for most of it and so you bid him goodnight, giving him one last look before going to gather your siblings and mother.
As all of you got into your carriage and left the ball, you couldn't help but think about the next time you could meet Lord Riley. You hoped it be somewhere more private, so you two could touch each other freely.
You could only hope this arrangement wasn't found out. It'd be a shame to never see Lord Riley again.
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Imagine Vampire!Ghost is so hungry that he needs to feed at that very moment and you're the only one around. You're his last resort because he never wanted to feel like he was being nice to you solely because you tasted good, but he truly has no one else to turn to.
And so you find yourself sitting in a chair (so that you don't pass out while standing after he drinks your blood) and Ghost has his balaclava lifted so his lips are exposed. Your heart is pounding in your chest but you know from watching him drink the others' blood that he won't drink too much to kill you or turn you.
Despite the situation, you're safe.
He's cradling the back of your neck gently as he leans in, his lips parting to his fangs can sink into your soft flesh. His lips touch your neck and he sinks his fangs into the column of your neck, your blood hitting his tongue. Ghost drinks like the starved man he is, but he still has the control enough to count how many sips of your blood he's taking.
Once he feels your heartbeat is weakening, he pulls out his fangs and licks the wound on your neck to heal you with his vampiric saliva. He murmurs words of gratitude, giving you a napkin to wipe the saliva off your neck and going to give you a glass of water.
Ghost is attentive now, tending to whatever you need to feel better after giving him your blood. You shall want for nothing until you feel better.
You wouldn't mind giving your blood to him more often, if this is how gently he treats you afterwards.
