what's love? 💕part two (DARK!GHOST x FAWN!READER) part one 🦌
gloved hand wrapped around her throat, he's thrusting at her perfect pussy, her body submissive against her plushy pillows and warm blanket. 'what are you gonna tell your boyfriend, love, hm?'
the pleasure has her dizzy. her doe-eyes fluttering shut. she opens her mouth to speak to the giant man on top of her, but her eyebrows furrow instead of words leaving her throat, a little croaked whimper escaping her.
he's smiling beneath the mask. her torn clothes on the floor beside them as he loves nothing more than when she blushes. 'told you i was gonna help you, love. what have we been practicing, hm?'
rather than slowing his thrusts down so she can think, he fastens them. her pussy holding onto his girth as if she's clinging for dear life.
she squeaks a little sound. 'i-
'good start,' he husks. nose brushing against hers, his animalistic desire at its peak.
the material of his glove is too coarse. her senses on absolute overdrive. pained tears drip down her cheeks, erasing the ones of pleasure. 't-t-take o-ff your gl-oves please...'
he rips them off, tossing them to the side in a second. wrapping his warm, bare hand around her delicate throat, she can finally breathe again.
she’s looking at him, lips parted. ‘g-g-onna tell him i-i-’m leaving him.’ something she's tried to almost do many times before.
he growls, eyes closing. the pleasure ripping his soul in two. leaning his forehead against hers, he growls, ‘that’s my bloody girl.’
"I Like'em Big" - Simon "GHOST" Riley x reader (sfw)
Summary: Y/N wears Simon's hoodie, wears her hair down for the first time, and Simon doesn't know what to do with himself.
Word Count: 2800+
Warnings: military reader, 141 interactions, bar shenanigans, alcohol consumption, reader has long hair, Simon being completely enamoured by reader, he's a big softie for her, fluff
a/n: not proofread. Hope this wasn't OOC for Ghost, I really tried to keep him as himself from the 2019 Modern Warfare game.
Main Masterlist
Surprisingly, the ride back to base wasn't filled with the usual silence that coincided with exhaustion. Instead, it was filled with the sounds of celebration and joking quips, mostly from Gaz and Soap but the others were listening, amused by their antics.
"I say we head to the bar, just outside the base." Soap suggested, giddiness clear in his tone.
Gaz nudged him, "That sounds good, brother."
Soap then turned his attention to Price, "What do ye say, Captain? You in?"
Price gave a little nod, exhaling the smoke from his cigar. "I could use a drink."
"What about you, L.T? Y/N? Fancy a drink?" Soap asked the pair, who sat next to each other.
The big, burly Brit gave a low hum which to anyone who didn't know him would've thought that was a clear no, but Soap laughed and Y/N smiled. "I say that's a yes."
He looked to Y/N, "That only leaves you, lass."
Y/N shook her head, waving a hand to brush off his proposal. "I think I'll pass." Ghost turned his head to look down at her.
"Oh come on." Gaz complained in the back while Soap crossed his arms.
"What do ya got to get back at base to that's so important that ya wouldn't want to go with us?" Soap argued, his voice laced with playful intent.
She snickered. "Take a shower for one."
"Are ya serious?" Soap huffed.
"Look, I know you might like walking around like a human dust cloud but I can feel the dirt in places I'd rather not mention." Y/N teased, and smirked his way.
She glanced over to Gaz who had let out a small laugh, which made her laugh quietly to herself.
Soap leaned forward, "Come on, we don't need another ghost disappearin on us."
Y/N shook her head, "I'm not disappearing on anybody."
"Then come with us." Soap continued to prod.
The two stared at each other for a long moment before Y/N sighed and threw her arms in the air in mock annoyance. "Fine, I guess I'll come but only if I can change first."
"Deal." Soap grinned as he held out a fist toward Y/N. She lifted a fist of her own, and bumped it against Soap's then leaned back in her spot in the plane.
Soon, the team made it back to base, filtering off the carrier plane one by one, and chatting amongst themselves. Price came off the plane first, followed shortly by Soap and Gaz then Ghost and Y/N. It was already dark out, the fluorescent lights from inside the base beaming out and onto the concrete floor that made up the helipad.
Once stepping inside, Y/N departed from the men, reassuring Soap that she would meet them in the parking lot once she changed out of her uniform. She b-lined for her room, locking the door behind her and heaving a sigh, letting her shoulders relax and allowing herself a moment to herself. Even though she agreed to go out with the guys, Y/N was utterly exhausted; it seemed to take great effort just to breathe. It was as if her lungs were beyond their limit and wanted to rest.
But Simon was going out too, while not rare, he never went out consistently. More often than not, he opted to stay behind and get some sleep. There were also occasions when he and Y/N would make tea in the break room and talk about everything and nothing in the lulling moments when the base was quiet.
She loved those moments, appreciating the fact that on their off time, Simon liked to share his time with her. As much as she loved the guys, Simon provided an unknown incentive to go to the bar.
Y/N sighed, trudging over to her cot to undress. She traded her grimy uniform for a pair of clean jeans, a white tank top, and her typical combat boots. However, it was a bit cold outside so she decided to grab a hoodie. Her eyes immediately found the one that she kept folded at the end of her bed.
It was a standard black hoodie, no flashy design or words, a simple color with nothing else. This hoodie was special though as it belonged to a certain 6'2" Lieutenant.
Y/N smiled to herself as she grabbed it and pulled it over her head. It hung loose on her body, the hem of it touching her mid thigh and the sleeves engulfed her arms but she felt safe in it., protected. She couldn't help to thumb at the fabric of the collar, thinking for a second before she dipped her nose down to breathe in the smell of it.
Despite having worn the hoodie multiple times (mostly when she slept), the musky scent of Simon lingered there. It smelled of an earthy cologne that Simon wore, smoke with a twinge of metal. She hummed at the scent, but before she got too caught up in her own mind, she grabbed her phone, wallet, and headed out to the parking lot.
Y/N knew exactly where Soap parked his truck so she made a b-line straight for it, not too far from the front doors of the base. Walking out into the parking lot, she saw that the guys were already standing and waiting by the black pickup.
Soap was the first one to see, and as soon as he did, his eyes widened. "Jesus, lass! You look like yer gettin swallowed whole inside that thing!"
Simon whipped his head around to see what the commotion was about, his heart skipping a beat when he got a good look at Y/N, wearing his hoodie.
Y/N felt the slightest bit sheepish at Soap's comment, but tried not to let it show. "I do not." She retorted, "It's windy out here and I'm cold."
She walked past Soap to head towards Simon who stood beside the backdoor. Before she got in she glanced over her shoulder at the Scot. "Besides, I like'em big."
For a brief second, Y/N's eyes flicked from Soap to narrow in on Simon as she said that, picking up at the quick breath he took and held it in. She smirked then quickly climbed into the back seat.
Simon briefly locked eyes with Soap, seeing a boyish smirk on the Sergeant's face. He huffed, then followed Y/N into the truck.
He knew he shouldn't have let it slip to Johnny about his "admiration" for Y/N or else he wouldn't have that shit eating grin on his face.
Soap only laughed before climbing into his truck. Price sat up front with him while Simon, Y/N and Gaz sat in the back. It was a tad of a squeeze (mostly due to Simon's large stature), but it wasn't so bad. Though Gaz was the second to gawk at Y/N's ginormous hoodie, and she laughed saying that the bigger the hoodie, the more comfortable to which he then asked the rhetorical question of 'what is it with girls and hoodies?'
The team laughed, Simon on the other hand, kept peeking down at Y/N seeing her completely covered by the black fabric, remembering the night he gave it to her. It had been a night of hushed conversation, a shared moment of privacy among the chilled air, and as she shivered in her spot beside him, he took only a second to stop and pull off his sweatshirt then plop it in her lap.
She had been stunned, it was evident from the look she gave, but she wasted no time pulling the fabric over her head. Once it engulfed her figure, she let out a relieved hum, a smile and tucked her face into the collar of it.
Simon loved the way it hung around her, like she belonged inside of it.
On any given day, Simon would not have done something that was clearly so intimate to him, but this was a moment that Y/N and him shared alone, without the eyes of anyone on base. However, seeing Y/N wearing it now with everyone to see felt scandalous, if he had to label it; a deeper peek into his psyche.
He couldn’t decide if he liked that or not.
The sharp pause of the vehicle into a parking spot, provided Simon an escape from the suddenly hot air of the truck as he hopped out. Once everyone stepped out, following Soap, they all headed toward the bar. It was a small, modest place, nothing fancy but it would keep them busy for the next few hours. Soap walked up to the bars' counter to sit down, followed by all of 141.
Y/N sat beside Soap, who was already ordering a drink, and Simon came up to the empty seat to the right of Y/N with Price and Gaz sitting closer to Soap.
“Keep the drinks to a minimum, would you Soap? Last time you got drunk, we had to drag you back to the base.” Y/N pointedly suggested.
Soap scoffed, “Oi, are you my mother? I can handle myself.”
At that, Y/N let out an amused laugh coming from the gut. “No you can’t. You were so out of it that you thought you were being kidnapped when we hoisted you up into Price’s truck.”
Soap paused for a moment, eyes drifting upward as if he were searching through his memories of that night. “I don’t remember that.”
“You wouldn’t remember, mate.” Gaz chirped in, “You’d put a sailor to shame with as much drink as you had.”
“More like the whole ship.” Price added with a huffed smirk and then took a drink of his whiskey.
Y/N readjusted in her seat as she turned to slightly face the Scot, “I had to keep Ghost from killing you; you’d kicked him right in the ribs and you better believe you owe me.”
“Ah, Ghost woulda’ kill me. He’s too fond of my daring personality.” Soap teased, leaning forward to peer around Y/N to look at Simon.
“Don’t count yourself lucky, Johnny. A kick to the ribs makes a compelling argument for killin’ ya.” Simon simply stated, thick accent and husky voice making him sound serious.
Y/N chuckled to herself however at his obvious banter, taking a sip of her drink.
A loud pfft sound left Soap’s mouth, waving off Simon’s words and swallowing his bourbon down in one go.
Soap set his glass down onto the bar with a thud before he spoke again. “And of course, the only thing that could stop the giant was the fluttering eyes of our lass here.”
If she was honest with herself, that very idea made Y/N’s heart flutter and unconsciously, she bit her bottom lip, sparing a subtle glance up to Simon. His dark eyes glowed in the ambient light of the bar, casting a shadowed glare toward the Scot in an oddly defensive way.
He said nothing, but he didn’t have to. His expression said it all.
“Aww, don’t get bent out of shape LT. No man could resist such beauty.” Soap holds up his hands in fake surrender.
“Shove off, Soap.” Y/N playfully pushed the Scot at the same time he slipped off his bar stool.
“Anyone want to play a round of pool?” Soap offered, taking a step back from Y/N’s strong left hook.
Gaz nodded, quickly finishing his drink and ordering another. “I’m in.”
“I suppose I could weigh in.” Price says, slipping out of his seat and following Soap and Gaz to the empty pool table off to the corner.
Y/N leaves no time for Simon to give a definitive answer while she hops off her bar stool, leaving her cup behind. “May as well. You coming, Simon?”
She glances over her shoulder and It’s obvious that he is caught off-guard, making a great effort to look unaffected. However, he hums and gets up from his seat.
He seems to automatically trail behind Y/N in her path to the pool table, where the rest of the team is waiting.
“You and LT are a team; Gaz and I are a team. Alright with you two?” Soap automatically assigns, watching Y/N shrug.
“Sounds good to me.” Y/N smirked, already picking up a pool cue.
While Soap and Gaz grab their own pool cues, Y/N takes this opportunity to let her hair (literally), pulling the hair band from the tight bun she had it in and letting the tresses fall to her shoulders.
Simon watches as the thick strands fall from the bun, and lightly bounce once they hit her shoulders and back. The cool air of the bar wafting from outside, breezes past Y/N and into Simon; there’s a scent of gunpowder with an underlying smell of a fruity soap from her shampoo.
Those two types of scents don’t belong, Simon thinks, however, he cannot deny that it suits Y/N in an odd way and he takes a moment to commit it to memory.
“Woah, Y/N…” Gaz comments, looking up from the pool table.
Soap whips his head up from aligning the cue ball with the solid and striped ones. “How the hell do you keep all that wrapped up?”
“I’m just magic like that.” Y/N smirks, running her fingers through her hair to massage the soreness on her scalp.
“Teach me your magic?” Gaz teases Y/N as he steps over to her.
She hums, “I don’t know Gaz, you actually have hair in order to learn my ways.”
The group laughs as Gaz nudges her away from him, all in good fun of course.
She takes the opportunity to spare a glance up to Simon, seeing that he is staring down at her with a shine in his eyes that tells her only the good things about what he must be thinking. Before he catches it, she smirks and turns back to the others to begin their game.
From that moment on, for the rest of the evening, the tension grew with each passing second. Only ripening, the few times during their pool match, when Y/N leaned down to shoot her shot, and she would slide back to stand straight up, there Simon would be; looming shadow over her while keeping a respectful distance.
It was all palpable in a way that only Y/N and Simon knew, but not bursting at the seams. No, it was slowly simmering, waiting for the right opportunity to be released.
By the time the night ended, the boys buzzed and chipper, the squad made it back to base with little to no problems, from Soap that is who made it apparent that he was perfectly consciousness.
It got a laugh out of them, as Simon and Y/N departed and were finally alone.
They were heading to their respective rooms, the heavy thud of their boots hitting the ground, the only sound between them as they walked down a long corridor. It remained that way until Y/N broke the silence.
“Did you have fun, Simon?”
He looked to her from the invisible spot on the ground that he’d been watching, “As much fun as I could, I suppose.”
“Me too. It’s nice to relax every once in a while.” She hums contently.
“I imagine it’s not difficult to relax when you have a sweatshirt that’s two sizes too big.” Simon remarks, hearing Y/N laugh as he does.
“You have a point there!”
There’s a brief pause before Simon speaks up again, “Do you fancy wearing clothes that swallow you whole?”
She stops in her path, suddenly standing in front of her room door, one that Simon almost missed as he came to an abrupt stop. “Only when I’m attached to it.”
They stand and stare, soaking in the implications, and reveling in the secret between them.
Simon, in a moment of courage he’s not sure where it came from, raises a calloused hand to gently slide his index finger against the skin of her cheek. “Well, I’d say it suits you.”
Y/N smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges in a softness that she doesn’t direct to just anyone. No, this is only for him because despite all the teasing and flirting, that is not where her affection stops. Not when her heart is thundering beneath her ribcage with her skin completely flushed with desire.
Without much thought, Y/N leans forward, forcing herself up onto her tippy toes and plants the softest of kisses to his cheek. Though it's covered by his balaclava, he feels the pressures of her lips against him, the warmth of them seeping past the mask and into his skin so much so, that when Y/N eventually pulls away, he leans forward the slightest bit to keep her there.
Her eyes flick up to meet his, shining with something unspoken yet recognized as wanting. However, she doesn’t act on it, instead she keeps the small distance between their bodies and whispers three simple words.
Hey my lovelies, back with another Headcanon! I hope you enjoy it!
Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!
❀Phil asks you to move in with him when the distance becomes too much. When he can’t stand the long drive between your house and his. When he can’t come to you and feel the much-needed calm.
❀Phil makes space for you before you move in. He goes out and buys new cutlery, extra bedding, and new dishware. He’s been living alone for so long, and since he doesn’t usually have guests, he doesn’t have a lot.
❀Phil has all of the boxes organised. He insists on loading the moving truck himself. He’s efficient at work. It makes no difference; he moves from activity to activity.
❀Phil doesn’t want you to lift anything heavy. That’s his job, and if he needs to, he will delegate.
❀When you move in with Phil, one of the things he notices is the change. The home is no longer just a place to put his head, to retreat to after a long mission. It felt like a home. Suddenly, there was music and laughter, a warmth removing the house from the coldness.
❀Phil lets you make any changes you want. You’ll be living there too. He doesn’t care what it looks like as long as you don’t touch his man cave. That space is strictly off limits to any design changes.
❀Phil tells his men about the changes you make. He’s proud whenever he comes home to a new DIY product you’ve done.
❀Phil also panics when he discovers you've got a new project. Especially when it comes to anything too extreme, such as using heavy machinery or moving objects that are too heavy, he wishes you would wait until he gets home.
❀It’s a milestone, Phil is proud of. He gathered the courage to ask you, and now this gets to be his life. A home with you.
Summary: Your trying to read someone's mission report, Phillip wants your attention. Except Phillip gets more than he bargained for, when you begin to psychoanalyse him.
Pairing: Phillip Graves X Female Reader
WordCount: 331
Content: Fluff
A/N: Requests are open! You can find my request guidelines here!
Did I fail my last blurb challenge? Yes, am I attempting it again? Also yes. Will I succeed this time? I hope so. You can read the rest here!
Day 2, here we go!
“Good mornin’, sweetheart,”
“Whatever you want, the answer is no.” You glanced down again, attempting to make sense of the unreadable handwriting. The penmanship's owner was unknown; however, from now on, they would write their own reports. It wasn’t surprising that it had been passed around the office.
“What gives you the impression, I was about to ask for somethin’?”
“You’ve been hovering around me for the past ten minutes, trying to judge my mood and focus. Then you proceeded to walk over here calmly and slowly, just in case I showed any sign of frustration, so you could promptly make your escape.”
“I don’t know where you got all that from, sweetheart,-”
“You're deflecting because you’ve been caught out. Your expertise is in the field of violence and battle strategy, mine is knowing how people think, to predict what they’re about to do, before they know themselves.” Phillip leaned against your desk, arms folded.
“You're just full of surprises.”
“You’re not.” You glanced back down at the report, attempting to continue on your work, but Phillip pulled it away from you, removing it from sight.
“Hey! Some of us are trying to work.”
“Johnson can type his own damn report.” Swirling around to face him, suddenly your entire focus centred on him. A twitch of his lips, your brows furrowed.
“What do you want, Phillip?”
“You, me and lunch.”
“So bold of you to presume I don’t already have plans.”
“Sweetheart, we both know you don’t. You do the same thing every day, sit in the canteen and eat alone while doomscrolling through your socials.” Phillip smirked as your eyes widened momentarily before regaining your composure.
“I’ll even let you psychoanalyse me some more.” With a huff, and no longer backlogged with a report. You rose from your chair. You weren’t going to pass down a free meal.
“Fine, but you're paying.” Walking behind you, Phillip’s smile grew. Mission update: stage one completed. Next step, get you to like him.
Oneshot ⋆⁺Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader⋆⁺
⋆⁺₊⋆ Summary: While trying to avoid shadows, you and Ghost get stuck in between a tight alleyway. And sure Ghost’s gun is hard but not as hard as his dick pressed upon your ass. All your Lieutenant needs is a quickie!
⋆⁺₊⋆ Warning: Pet Names, Dirty Talk, Unprotected p in v, Creampie, Multiple orgasms, Semi Public Sex, Groping, Rough Sex, Praising, Breeding Kink, Gagging, Cummm. NSFW! SMUTTT! After Care? :3
⋆⁺₊⋆ A/N: This shouldn’t have taken me so long. Just enjoy plz and thx 4 reading cuties <3 Plz support by reposting ;3
Nsfw below the cut
Imagine…
Ghost and you sneak through houses and alleys, taking down any shadows in your way. Rain splashing with every footstep taken.
“Come here-" Ghost grips your forearm and pushes you against him as he leads you through the allyways.
You follow trying to pick up your feet to his speed.
Feeling your back on his armed chest as he tries to keep you close to him. He slows down and lowers his head close to your ear, you can feel yourself almost trip when his hot breath is on your bare neck.
“Trying to find somewhere secure. There's too many of them. Better to wait it out.“ he whispers close so only you can hear him. As you’re still trying to comprehend the situation, he brings you both to a stop and slides into a narrow alley.
He waves you over and you both try to get deeper where the street lights won’t expose you.
Running on adrenaline you both didn’t realize the alleys becoming tighter. Only when it was too late and you shuffle against him.
“No stop-“ he breaths out, you’re pinned against him and can feel him all around you.
“Fuck m’sorry sir.” you’re more than embarrassed, your hands are in front of you on the bricked wall.
“Just stay still.”
“Can’t stay still. Your so-hard against me-“
“What?” You can sense his eyebrows curling and even his lips forming a smirk but it quickly vanishes as your embarrassment got the best of you. You began to arch away from him and shuffle off of him.
“Y/n stop” He almost growls out. You ignore and try again, this time he’s had enough and his gloved hands grip the sides of your waist. Though the timing could’ve never been worse.
As he pushes you down you accidentally grind onto him, assuming the hardness on your ass to be a gun. Letting out a cut whine of discomfort.
Out of your sight, Ghosts head shoots back to the wall behind him, biting his lip to the point where blood could be drawn. Keeping quite.
“You mind moving your fucking gun lieutenant.” You stutter out.
“That’s not my fuck’n gun sergeant.”
His voice is somehow deeper and his accent thicker than you’ve ever heard, he’s desperate.
He’s hands are still on your waist as your eyes widen due to feeling the large imprint of his crouch on your ass. If your cunt wasn’t already wet from him being all over you, it’s soaked now. He lets his head fall to the crook of your neck. Your bodies fuming together. In defeat you let your head fall to his chest you can now see his balaclava and skull mask, his eyes are shut.
“Told you to keep still.”
Silence falls, you look up to the starry night. The storm now soaking you both more, feeling rain droplets fall on your face. Ghost focuses on your breathing and his hands that still grip on your waist loosen. Not wanting his gloved hands to leave your body you grab them, moving them lower to create a space in between the warmth your thighs. Your eyes flutter as he leads himself, his large hands squeeze and kneed your inner thighs. You turn your head close to his ear. Softly praising him to continue, he boldly moves his hand towards your clothed cunt and gropes you, you whimper and arch into his hand. He also turns his head to face you, admiring your slightly illuminated scrunched features as the pleasure gets to you. Ghost shuts his eyes when he grinds his dick against your ass again, much rougher, his lips parting open from the friction. You moan into his covered parted lips.
“Tha’s it. Jus like that pretty girl.”
He kisses you, it’s sloppy and full of hunger. You begin to kiss him back and his balaclava becomes wetter with the rain and the way both of your saliva starts mixing. He groans softly when you catch his bottom lip in between your teeth through his mask. Detaching after a slow tug.
“How about we speed this up-huh pet?" His other hand taking a hold of your throat and giving it a squeeze. You nod and with your own hands you unbuckle your cargo pants. Ghost takes his hands off your body and helps by pulling your pants down, below your ass. A short hiss leaving you as you feel the coldness of the night.
"Been wearing these along. Who could've known you were such a slut on the battle field." He says while soothing your cunt through your laced panties, his thumb applying pressure to your clit.
"Wear'em for you"
"Really?" He lets out a low cold chuckle, sliding your panties down to your pants. Moaning when he gives your ass a squeeze.
"hands on the wall sergeant"
You obey and hear him unbuckling his own pants, listening to him groaning when pumps his shaft a few times before tapping his wet tip on your cheeks. Ghost lifts you and slides his dick back and forth through your wet folds, feeling the girth and length as he humps you from behind.
“You okay with this doll? You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes. I want it, please Ghost-”
“Fuck’n hell. You’re going to be the end of me.”
Ghost slides the tip of his dick to your entrance and slowly lets himself in and out. Your mouth agape and his hot breath bleeding through his mask into the cold air of the night. Thinking of the sight someone could catch you both in. Bent over and holding yourself against a bricked wall, the storm coving the lewd sounds carried with heavy breathing while your lieutenant fucks you from behind.
You both holding in the satisfaction of him inside you but failing as he slides his tip back out of you and slams his lengthy dick fully into your pussy. His heavy balls making contact with your ass and a splash occurring with the rain. Your loud moan cut out from Ghost coving your mouth with his gloved hands.
“Let’s keep those pretty moans for my ears only. Don’t want the whole city knowing I’m fucking you like this.”
Ghost continues fucking you, his dick deep inside your pussy, his balls splashing and hitting your ass with every thrust. You can feeling yourself at the edge of your climax.
“Need to cum Ghost- can’t go any longer…”
“Come on then pretty girl. Cum all over my cock, need to feel that fuck’n cunt tighten.”
He fucks you harder, until you moan ‘Ghost’ out, loud enough for him to take one of his gloves off and shove into your mouth. You cum hard onto his cock, tensing when tasting the metallic in your mouth as you whine into the his glove. Ghost shutters behind you, his cock twitching inside you as your walls tighten and your juices cover him.
“Gonna let me come inside you doll?”
You gag on the glove and he takes it out.
“Please Lieutenant, I need you.”
Ghost groans in the crook of your neck.
“Want me to breed your pretty pussy badly, huh-doll?”
“Yes-!”
You’re cut off with a hard slap on your ass and Ghost’s thrusting becomes unrhythmic. You listen to his hushed moans and heavy breaths as he stuffs his balls on your ass and coats your walls with his seed. You whimper from the feeling of his cock pulsing.
“Good girl, take it all in for your lieutenant.” Ghost continues riding out his high and doesn’t stop thrusting into you. He pulls your head back to see your face, only to find you practically drooling.
“You’ve gone cock dumb sergeant.” He chuckles and slows down, his cock softens inside you. Wiping away the drool with his one glove. He takes a hold of your chin as you both lock eye contact. From just the sight of him, your eyes shut and you cum on his soft dick. Ghost praises you through your second orgasm. You both feel the mix of cum dripping from your pussy down his shaft, undoubtedly staining Ghost’s pants. He groans while he pulls out carefully and you whimper from discomfort.
“You alright love?” He holds you, taking your now rough and wet hands off the wall, he begins to slowly massage them with his own calist hands. Until their back to their soft form inwhich he loves.
“Yes sir” You give him a warm smile that makes his pulse quicken. You rest your head back on his chest and begin lifting your pants up.
“Let me take care of you love-” You blush harder as he calls you that again. “-promise I’ll get you properly cleaned.” He slides your now drenched panties back up and pants. Buckling your belt for you, adjusting to the right fit. With the space you have you lean forward for him to slide his briefs back around his waist and pants. Giggling quietly when you hear him trying to rub off the cum that got on his pants with the rain. He wished you could see the smile that spreads on his face as he listens to your sweet giggles.
“We should get going y/n.” You hum, remembering where you really are. He helps you shuffle off him, trying to avoid anymore physical contact. You both begin to retrace your steps, now knowing the shadows are far gone. The street lights becoming more visible.
Before you get your gun out and focus back on the task at hand, you’re halted by Ghost turning you over to face him. He traps you against the cold wall with his large arms. You look up to him. Rain droplets failing from his skull mask and helmet. His eyes not leaving yours.
“Lieutenant?”
He detaches his skull mask and slowly lifts his balaclava up to his nose. Revealing the bottom half of his face. You observe his stubbled beard and slightly chapped lips, scars scattered around his face, one larger one extending across his lips. He looks down to your lips and his hands find the sides of your head. Ghost smashes his lips with yours. You both finding pleasure with his controlling mouth. Though he backs up and slides his balaclava back down, along with attaching his skull mask on.
“Let’s finish this mission and continue this later eh-sergeant?”
Mind u I JUST found ur account and saw u were hispanic, I'm brazilian and sometime I struggle to find some content with a latina reader or even brazilian reader
Don't know if ur taking requests, but would u make a one shot of reader being brazilian and being super proud of it, and when meeting Alejandro and Rudy she discover that they are mexican so she is super excited about having other latinos on the group/mission and gets along really well with Los Vaqueros
Or some headcanons of a brazilian reader in the taks 141?
I don't know if every latin person does this but we brazilians have a habit of calling other latinos "hermanos" or "hermanas" as to be friendly and caring, specially when there are few latinos and we want to show that we are a safe space to that person
lmao I call my fellow latinos, "primo" or "prima" or "besinos" sometimes (usually folks from Venezuela, Peru, Ecuador, or Brazil-- since I'm Colombian) haha absolutely my friend! One oneshot coming right up! ❤️
You were the latest addition to the Task Force, a new effort to "inject culture" as you so lovingly had teased. And true enough, you brought color to the task force. Soap had practically dropped to one knee in front of you the first time you made feijoada in a crock pot in the rec room, the smell permeated the room in the most homely way possible. There was a warmth in your chest at having cared for your teammates the best way you knew how, especially at how readily they ate up their portions, Soap and Gaz elbowing each other to get seconds.
You proudly brought your team into frame anytime you got a FaceTime call from your family back home, joyfully introducing them in beautiful Portuguese, laughing when your cousins teased Soap for his hair, playfully admonishing your nephews for making comments about Ghost's mask, telling your mom to back off when she started asking which one of them you were going to bring home for the holidays.
Task Force 141 was being assigned a joint operation with some members of Los Vaqueros to help dismantle the remnants of some narcos operation. Soap had been talking your ear off about Alejandro and Rudy, their previous collaboration with the men was before your transfer into the task force. Needless to say, you were curious to meet the men.
The five of you were sat in the briefing room reviewing plans and schematics when Alejandro and Rudy walked with competence and confidence. With an ease that spoke to how well they knew the men in the room,
"¿Qué onda?" Alejandro firmly shook the team's hands and pulled them into firm embraces, until it was your turn. You gave him your name with a grin that matched his, an enthusiasm whose origin he caught onto quickly,
"¿Hablas español?"
"Portuguese, hermano." You beamed, "But I can understand you for the most part."
"Brazil?" Rudy offered as he shook your hand warmly,
"Where else?" You beamed,
"Here comes trouble." Soap teased, earning a playful elbow in the ribs from you. Alejandro laughed, bright and deep,
"Qué chingón. This is going to be better than I thought."
The remainder of the op would pass in a surprisingly joyful blur. Alejandro and Rudy would speak to you in Spanish, and you'd either answer in Portuguese on instinct or you'd ask Alejandro to repeat himself, bastard speaks Spanish faster than you can keep up with at times. And he'd always, happily repeat himself. Rudy would ask you to teach him a few phrases in Portuguese and he'd tell you a few in Spanish, always careful to let you know when slang was involved.
You'd compare your breakfast dishes, while arguing that Brazil had the best. In your proud opinion, nothing beats pão de queijo with some scrambled eggs and coffee. To which Alejandro would protest that huevos rancheros were better, earning him a swift, playful, smack on the arm. Rudy gently interjected with his preference of huevos divorciados, resulting in both you and Alejandro looking at him like he'd sprung a second head.
The nights would end around a crackling fire, something warm cradled between palms, laughter and teasing nonstop. You loved going toe to toe with Alejandro, you loved hearing the easy Spanish he shared with Rudy and the rest of his men. It made you feel right at home.
And 141? They loved seeing this side of you, proud, joyful, and sharing in the beauty of your home.
(Not gonna lie, my Mexican slang is rusty af why was I trying to make Alejandro Colombian whoops 😭😭😭)
TW(s) for this part: insecurities, mentions of face scars
Simon fan art credit: @shkretart
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God, being Ghost’s girlfriend surely isn't easy. He has a lot of boundaries, like a lot: no hugging, no intimate touches, no sudden touches…But the most important one was the mask stays on. Always.
Even though you two have been together for almost a year you’ve never seen Simon’s face apart from his lips since he sometimes felt comfortable enough to kiss you, even for a split second, but you’re glad even for that little moment.
You understand how hard it is for him to open up to people, and you’re glad for every single moment that you get to spend with him.
Today was your one year anniversary, and you happily hand Simon the gift you’ve got him, he looks at you with wide eyes and from the movement of them you understand that he’s smiling under the mask. He opens the little box and looks inside: you’ve gifted him a necklace with the date of the day you two got together imprinted on the pendant.
“Do you like it?” You ask anxiously, choosing a gift for him was so difficult.
“I love it, darling” he says in a soft tone, the tone he reserves to you only. From the moment he entered your room today you had noticed that he didn't have a gift with him, but you didn’t care: you two had made it to one year of relationship, that was already a gift for you. “Darling…I wanted to get you something too, but…I didn’t know what to get you…” He says as he looks down at the necklace still in the little box.
“You don’t have to worry about this kind of things, really.” you say with a soft smile, he walks to your bed and sits down, making you stand between his open legs.
Like this you’re just one or two inches taller than him.
“But, in the end, something came to my mind…” he says almost in a whisper as he takes your hands in his and places them on his cheeks, you look at him confused. He isn’t wearing his skull balaclava, just a normal ski mask, you could feel the soft, black, fabric against your fingertips.
“Simon? What…?” You ask confused as you cup his cheeks in your hands over the soft fabric.
Simon takes a deep breath and looks directly in your eyes as he leans in your touch, he loves the way you touch him: like he’s made of crystal and at the same time he’s precious to you but you’re still afraid that he could break at any moment. “The mask, you can take it off.”
Your heart drops and your eyes widen.
“W-What? A-Are you sure? If it’s for the gift, don't worry, I-I–”
“I’m sure, darling…I trust you, I want you to see my face…But I can’t promise that it will be a good view.” He tries to laugh it off, but the truth is that he’s filled with anxiety: what if you don’t like the way he looks? What if you find his face hideous (just like he does)? Will you – the first person he has ever trusted and loved – leave him?
“We need to work on your confidence.” You chuckle slightly, “are you sure? 100%? 1000%? If I lift this mask I won’t find another one right under, will I?”
He chuckles at your excitement, “I’m sure and don’t worry, under this mask there’s just my face.”
“Okay then.” You smile and kiss his lips through the mask one last time before slowly lifting his mask up, the first thing you see are his lips and you kiss them softly.
Then the tip of his nose, youI kiss that too.
You take a deep breath and, as Simon closes his eyes, you take the mask off completely. Simon continues to keep his eyes closed as you stare at his face, the first thought that goes in your mind is: so his hair is light brown.
Only after you notice the scars that are all over his face, he has one on his upper lip, one on his left cheek, one on his right eyebrow and two on his forehead.
“See? I told you…Definitely not a good view.” He whispers as he slowly opens his eyes, only to see you smiling down at him with a few tears on your face, “Hey! Why are you crying? Am I that ugly?”
“God, no…You’re so handsome…” You whisper as you gently touch his face. “I’m crying because I’m…so happy right now.” You chuckle and kiss his cheek.
“I…Am handsome?” Simon asks, shocked as his cheeks become red, a shy smile forms on his mouth.
You nod happily, “I just want to…Kiss you all over your face.”
“You can do it.” He says shyly, you don’t waste time and immediately start to leave lovely kisses all over his face while he chuckles.
“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You repeat between each kiss, Simon looks at you with a smile. He feels so loved now, loved like he has never felt in his entire life.
And for the first time in a year, he says it: “I love you.”
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PAIRING: Valeria Garza x Fem-Preschool-teacher! Reader.
CWS: None. <3
—
“Amor..”
“...Yes?”
“Por qué mierdas is there a giant pile of paper scraps and glitter on our bed?!”
—
This woman would definitely fund the school you work at.
She wouldn’t tell you it was her, but she’d relish in the way you smiled as you told her about the anonymous tips.
Need more construction paper and art supplies?
You got it.
Kids need more toys?
There were definitely better uses of her money, but you best believe the school will have some sent anonymously.
One thing Valeria admired the most about you was the sheer amount of love and patience you had for the kids you taught.
Whether it be the way you hugged them and treated them with such tenderness and love, or the way you carefully created each activity for the following day
She admired it all.
Sure, she absolutely despised the Idea of being surrounded by (literal demons) kids all day, but you just made it look so easy.
On late nights when she’d be getting back from whatever meeting or transgression she had to oversee that day and saw you hard at work, safety scissors in one hand and construction paper in the other, she’d let out a small sigh before walking behind you and resting herself against your hunched back
“You should be in bed, Mi Vida. Wouldn't want to have those pretty fingers of yours cut off on accident, right?”
“But I’m almost finished, Vale!” You’d whine, a tired pout on your lips as you turn to face your wife.
And thats how despite she herslf being tired, she’d find herself taking the scissors away from your hands and taking a seat beside you, finishing cutting whatever stencil you were cutting this time.
Another thing she’d enjoy is you talking about your day.
She liked listening to you talk as she did her paper work. Sure, it distracted her but she wouldn’t say that outloud.
Though usually indifferent and just humming to let you know she was listening, she’d occasionally respond back
“Can you believe that he kicked poor Jose just for trying to take one of the blocks from his tower during clean up!?”
“Well, he did have it coming-“
“Valeria, no-!”
It may not be Valeria’s profession of choice, but it’s yours and she’ll do everything in her power to support you and make sure you’re happy and come back home with that same charming smile.
—
🎀 first Tumblr post / COD fic, hopefully you enjoy this and find the premise interesting enough. <3
🎀 requests for this au idea, or in general, and constructive criticism are welcome !
