#tactics drills

[hemwickwitches]

the stupid blonde in me comes out every time i have to remember which way is left and which is right

#GAUCHE .............. droite.... bleh #tbd #but i mean literally i'm doing tactic drills in feh and i keep fucking up my left and right. like a toddler. #t

[trollbreak]

Anyways fun fact the wanderer and yarrow were from the same caverns

#they’ve got the same scare tactics drilled into their heads #yarrow just said fuck it tho

[defensenow]

#youtube #militarytraining #usmilitary #Advanced Helicopter Tactics #Army Aviation #Tactical Maneuvers #Helicopter Drills #Military Tactics #FAST #Military Training #Helicopter Piloting #Special Forces Training #Helicopter Maneuvers #Helicopter Techniques #Helicopter Training #Defense Training #FARP #Army Helicopter #Tactical Training #Army Training Exercise #Helicopter Operations #Combat Training #Military Exercises #Advanced Helicopter Tactics for Maximum Close Air Support | WTI 2-24

[fabiorabolli]

Combat Knife Throwing Drills

View On WordPress

#KNIFE COMBAT #KNIFE THROWING DRILLS #TACTICAL COMBAT SYSTEM #Youtube

[skipppppy]

I love how despite not being a bender, Sokka is the biggest embodiment of everything the Water Tribe values in the show, both good and bad.

Change. Sokka who humbled himself when the Kyoshi warriors proved him wrong and took their teachings to heart. Sokka who always had a plan, a few hundred backup plans, and could still get out of a sticky situation on the fly. Sokka whose friends became bored and aimless without his quick wit and initiative.

Kindness. Sokka who went to save Aang before Katara even had to ask him to. Sokka who saw the humanity in an old man from the fire nation. Sokka who gave Jet a second chance despite being the first one to be suspicious of him. Sokka who showed Zuko to his room and held no resentment against him. Sokka who shielded Toph from falling debris with his body.

Ingenuity. Sokka who invented airships and submarines. Sokka who took down the drill. Sokka who broke into a Fire Nation prison rig and out of the highest security prison in the country. Sokka who levelled Ozai’s entire sky fleet in one tactical manoeuvre.

Love. Sokka who couldn’t remember his mother’s face but carries the grief of her death so deeply that he protects every woman he meets with the same unhealthy hypervigilance. Sokka who instinctually jumps to defend his sister despite their constant bickering.

Community. Sokka who gave up his childhood to become the sole protector of his village and dedicated his time to training the younger boys in combat. Sokka who learned to let go of his hypervigilance and put his trust in the people he’a afraid of losing so they can protect him like he protects them. Sokka who stood alone guarding the gates of his home as Zuko’s ship towered over them.

#sokka is the best avatar character okay. i just have thoughts #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla analysis #sokka #water tribe

[roseguided]

sometimes I think about alicent repeating what Otto told her before he left “to secure her claim she will have to put your children to the sword, she’ll have no choice” to aegon after he becomes king and then what if b&c happens like shortly after she says this and it feels even more real

#she's rambling again. ( out of character ) #I THINK ABOUT IT #because it’s something that was drilled into alicent’s head and I think on some level #also a scare or manipulation tactic but also some truth too it v #So ofc she would repeat it to aegon

[rileyslibrary]

A/N: *leans into the microphone* anybody ordered some non-verbal taunting communication, courtesy of the lieutenant?

———————————————————————

You have all gathered in the tent for a quick briefing by the captain. Today’s drill is supposed to begin before dawn, and without the sun to keep you warm, the breeze shamelessly seeps through the tent’s openings. You sit around the table with the rest of the team and wrap your arms around yourself, trying to focus on Price’s orders.

Ghost stands next to the captain, examining each team member from across the table. He stands with his legs spread, holding his hands behind his back. His eyes move slowly, taking in every expression, every posture, and every movement.

You scan him from his head down to his waist. He’s in full gear all the damn time; mask, scarf, uniform, jacket, tactical vest. Sometimes, you wonder if he sleeps with everything on so that he can be ready to go. Perhaps he hangs his clothes on a chair the night before and puts them on one by one in the morning. If that’s the case, it must take him forever to get ready. You wonder if it’s the layering that makes him look so big or if he’s naturally built that way.

You try to suppress the image of your lieutenant naked and redirect your attention to the captain’s briefing. You look at Price, who is pointing at something on the map, and notice Ghost staring at you from the corner of your eye. His eyes move slowly, from your face down to your arms, and he narrows his eyes at the sight. He unclasps his hands from behind his back, brings them to the front and wraps them around himself, mimicking your stance. He looks back up at you, tilts his head and raises one of his eyebrows.

You immediately drop your arms to your sides and mouth an apology at him. He shakes his head at you and returns to his original position with his hands behind his back. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, they are already fixed on the person sitting next to you.

Price continues the briefing, and you try to absorb the information while battling the chill that creeps through your uniform. You struggle to keep your arms to your sides but, your efforts go in vain since you shiver whenever the wind blows in the tent.

The lieutenant, on the other hand, doesn’t let you off that easy. He picks up on every move you make like a fucking sensor. Your shoulders hunch forward, and he throws quick glimpses at you, signalling you to sit up straight. Sometimes, you place your hands in your pockets, and he widens his eyes at the sight, forcing you to put them back on the table. You absentmindedly slip your hands under your thighs one last time, and you see him taking a few steps back and beginning to walk around the table.

You stiffen up. As if the cold morning breeze wasn’t persecuting enough, now you have another—much worse—threat to fear. You follow Ghost with your peripheral vision while trying to focus on Price, but he disappears behind you.

You hear him fiddling with something—the soldiers across from you throw peeks above your head and then at each other. You try to pick up on their expressions. Unfortunately, you aren’t as good at decoding faces as he is.

There’s a hand brushing your chair, tucking something on its backrest. The same gloved hand nudges your shoulder once and points at the back.

You look over your shoulder.

It’s a cloth. You turn your upper body and take a closer look.

It’s a scarf; his scarf.

You turn to look at him, and he gestures for you to drape it over your shoulders as he walks back to the captain. You obey and lift it from the chair. It’s still warm to the touch. You throw it on your shoulders and wrap it tighter around yourself. His residual body heat is still trapped in the garment. It feels like a hug, and you fight the urge to bury your nose in and smell it. You forget the morning breeze, the upcoming drill, and his non-verbal taunting.

Because the morning breeze was there yesterday, and it will be here tomorrow. It is you who pitched a tent in its path.

Because the upcoming drill will eventually end, and you will get to rest. You just need to endure it first.

Because it wasn’t taunting on his part; it was his way of showing concern. And a teeny tiny bit of care.

You turn around and see Ghost taking back his position next to the captain. He doesn’t look at you again for the rest of the briefing. You wish he would. His scarf looks great on you.

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod ghost #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon riley x gn reader #simon riley fluff #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic

[probablyasocialecologist]

Despite Sparta’s reputation for superior fighting, Spartan armies were as likely to lose battles as to win them, especially against peer opponents such as other Greek city-states. Sparta defeated Athens in the Peloponnesian War—but only by accepting Persian money to do it, reopening the door to Persian influence in the Aegean, which Greek victories at Plataea and Salamis nearly a century early had closed. Famous Spartan victories at Plataea and Mantinea were matched by consequential defeats at Pylos, Arginusae, and ultimately Leuctra. That last defeat at Leuctra, delivered by Thebes a mere 33 years after Sparta’s triumph over Athens, broke the back of Spartan power permanently, reducing Sparta to the status of a second-class power from which it never recovered. Sparta was one of the largest Greek city-states in the classical period, yet it struggled to achieve meaningful political objectives; the result of Spartan arms abroad was mostly failure. Sparta was particularly poor at logistics; while Athens could maintain armies across the Eastern Mediterranean, Sparta repeatedly struggled to keep an army in the field even within Greece. Indeed, Sparta spent the entirety of the initial phase of the Peloponnesian War, the Archidamian War (431-421 B.C.), failing to solve the basic logistical problem of operating long term in Attica, less than 150 miles overland from Sparta and just a few days on foot from the nearest friendly major port and market, Corinth. The Spartans were at best tactically and strategically uncreative. Tactically, Sparta employed the phalanx, a close-order shield and spear formation. But while elements of the hoplite phalanx are often presented in popular culture as uniquely Spartan, the formation and its equipment were common among the Greeks from at least the early fifth century, if not earlier. And beyond the phalanx, the Spartans were not innovators, slow to experiment with new tactics, combined arms, and naval operations. Instead, Spartan leaders consistently tried to solve their military problems with pitched hoplite battles. Spartan efforts to compel friendship by hoplite battle were particularly unsuccessful, as with the failed Spartan efforts to compel Corinth to rejoin the Spartan-led Peloponnesian League by force during the Corinthian War. Sparta’s military mediocrity seems inexplicable given the city-state’s popular reputation as a highly militarized society, but modern scholarship has shown that this, too, is mostly a mirage. The agoge, Sparta’s rearing system for citizen boys, frequently represented in popular culture as akin to an intense military bootcamp, in fact included no arms training or military drills and was primarily designed to instill obedience and conformity rather than skill at arms or tactics. In order to instill that obedience, the older boys were encouraged to police the younger boys with violence, with the result that even in adulthood Spartan citizens were liable to settle disputes with their fists, a tendency that predictably made them poor diplomats. But while Sparta’s military performance was merely mediocre, no better or worse than its Greek neighbors, Spartan politics makes it an exceptionally bad example for citizens or soldiers in a modern free society. Modern scholars continue to debate the degree to which ancient Sparta exercised a unique tyranny of the state over the lives of individual Spartan citizens. However, the Spartan citizenry represented only a tiny minority of people in Sparta, likely never more than 15 percent, including women of citizen status (who could not vote or hold office). Instead, the vast majority of people in Sparta, between 65 and 85 percent, were enslaved helots. (The remainder of the population was confined to Sparta’s bewildering array of noncitizen underclasses.) The figure is staggering, far higher than any other ancient Mediterranean state or, for instance, the antebellum American South, rightly termed a slave society with a third of its people enslaved.

#sparta #ancient history #greek history

[crispy-armpit]

✧ 𝖒𝖞 𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴇᴀ ɢᴏᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𓇼˚₊‧꒰ა 🫧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚𓇼

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 10 dollars on a dare leads you to break one superstition that changes your life forever. you begin to learn secrets tied to your family and upbringing, at the cost of your freedom. who is this mysterious Anshumat, and why does he want you?

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺, violence, implied stalking, kidnapping, choking, reader gets called a bride once

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,418

⭒ a/n: yan sea god was inspired by an Indonesian myth called Nyi Roro Kidul! it's a really interesting legend if you want to learn more abt it ^^ also.... man tits...... meow..

will you venture down this path?

growing up, you would stay over at your grandmother's house every summer. her beautiful seaside cottage made the perfect accommodation for a family getaway. throughout your childhood, the superstitious old woman restricted you from doing specific things. rules like never whistling at night, don't open an umbrella indoors, etc.

you'd eventually found out that these were just scare tactics for children to make them listen. but there was one rule that your grandmother seemed to fear the most, a rule that never made sense... never wear white to the local beach. and when questioning her about the rule, she'd tell you the same story every time.

"long ago...

a cruel serpent god who once ruled these waters would rise from the ocean and into the islands, devouring innocent villagers and destroying temples along its path.

the gods and humans were furious at its actions. fed up with the destruction and death, they prepared a plan to thwart the serpent; a binding curse.

the serpent was cursed to spend its days rotting in a hidden island, where it was accompanied by its servants. it was also tasked with granting blessings to sailors passing through the rocky tides, where it weighed the sins of each individual to seal their fates.

but over the decades... the serpent grew bored and lonely. through a loophole, the serpent found a way to abduct humans. you see.. the serpent loves the colour white and pearls. so much so, it would use its voice, so alluring, to lure the poor victims who happened to wear such things. and once in the water, the serpent would drag the human to its temple where they would become its slave.. or worse...

its spouse."

here you are today, telling the same tale in front of your young niece and nephew. "well, that's one way to get bitches." your nephew, Keona laughs. a scoffing Kehlani adds on, "nah, who would want to marry an overgrown slimy snake?"

"hey now, take that shit to grandma. she just assigned me to be your storyteller," you shrugged. "and this story has a real reasoning behind it, ok?"

"what? sexy sea snake destroying villages?"

"no, it's so that little rascals like you..." you drill both your index fingers onto their foreheads, "are easier to find if you ever get lost at sea."

how did i end up here...

facepalming yourself, you sigh. you were disappointed in yourself. how'd you let those little punks reel you in a dare? where was the self-respect? the dignity? seriously, breaking your grandmother's number 1 rule for what? 10 dollars?

you walk along the shore while wearing a flowy white shirt and neck encased in one of your mother's pearl necklaces. the dare was simple: successfully walk down the shoreline without chickening out and boom— an extra 10 dollars into your wallet.

you'd prove to the twins that you weren't scared of a little bedtime story. buuut just in case you did happen to go missing (for reasons that are totally not hungry sea serpent related), you brought essentials in a bag, left a letter for your family, and are currently being watched by the twins.

laughing at yourself for the paranoia, you nearly reach the edge of the walk until you hear a feminine wail from between the hidden rocks. is someone hurt? the sound was coming from beyond your finishing point so it wouldn't hurt to check, right?

signalling the twins to come over, you bend down to their heights, "listen, it sounds like someone's in trouble past those rocks. so I want you both to go grab the first aid kit and call Officer Holden over, 'kay?" they nod and scamper off into town.

approaching the rocks, you peek in to find a naked... mermaid?! observing her, you notice the torn skin on her iridescent tail and warily walk over to her. "uh... hey? hola? salve? hallo? i'm ah— good human! no... nooooo bad.."

you notice the air seems to smell... sweeter?

the woman looks up at you from the sand with pleading eyes, "please— please help me! my name is Coralie, my master, he—"

"woah, it's ok! you're safe, help is coming. uh, your master? did he do this to you? are you an underwater criminal?!"

a distant melodious voice interrupts you. Coralie's previously pained face now warps into a sinister grin as her wound disappears. she crawls towards you as your vision fogs up and your knees buckle to the soft sand. the song lulls you into a deep sleep, your body now being pulled into the shallow waters.

you awake to the bright rays of sunshine and lungs filling in with fresh air. but the next in your line of sight knocked all the air out of your body again.

the luminous, barely-clothed body of an unknown man sat above you. his 9'7 self relaxed on the marble throne, with 2 pairs of eyes fixated on you. what the fuck is that?

you gawk at him, "holy mother of god..."

i'm not dreaming, am i?

his gaze shifts into amusement, "wrong. we gods do not have mothers. we were created."

"you're a... a god?"

"is it not obvious enough from my appearance? would you like to see another version of me?" the towering deity begins to warp into a feminine body as if it was melting and moulding itself. "is this preferable?" her new voice is flirtatious, genuinely curious.

then, she tries to warp into a third body. the transformation looks more painful than the one prior, it barely shifts halfway into a gruesome beast before returning back to its first body. he huffs while grasping his golden collar, "this... is not my original form. I have been cursed, long ago, to never set foot on human lands. this island is both my kingdom and prison."

you shakily stand up the marble floor, now noticing Coralie standing beside the throne with a pair of legs. slowly processing his words, you piece together the clues from his story and your memories of the abduction. this couldn't be...

"you are.. you're the sea serpent god! I can't believe grandma was right— shit, shit shit—"

he smirks at your panic, "correct. I am Anshumat; shapeshifter deity of the raging tides, granter of safe travels—"

"murderer and enslaver." you complete.

Anshumat roars, "correct again! you're on a strike, dear y/n. though trust me, my servants are treated well."

"..how do you know my name?"

"oh you poor thing, granny never told you? I know everything about you— a name is barely anything."

"told me what?"

"she used to be my cupbearer. until she escaped with that bastard traitor. isn't that right, Coralie?"

she nods, "yes, master."

"please sir, let me leave. my family— they'll search for me! I have a cat at home! I haven't even finished my favourite show.. so please..." you try to list more life goals.

he chuckled, "oh you are so amusing. and why would I do that? we've barely just been engaged, dear."

"what do you mean engaged?"

"I've been watching you since you took your first breath on earth, y/n. so imagine my surprise— to see you wrapped up in my favourite colour, like a pretty bride. you're my sacrifice."

fear tingles your spine, "wait, that was just a dare! i didn't really mean it!"

"doesn't matter. you will be my pearl."

"no! I have a family, a partner—"

"i said... it doesn't fucking matter." he slams his fist against the throne arm, "and you'll be seeing the head of that twat soon enough."

you don't give him a glance before you're turning your back and run down the staircase of the grand temple. careful not to trip, you focus on the flight of stairs, painfully aware of the loud footsteps approaching behind you. it doesn't take a second for Anshumat to pull on the collar of your shirt and slam you onto the staircase.

he sits atop you, lower region heavily grinding against your stomach. "get off me! don't you have hundreds of other options?! why me?!" you scream.

his bedazzled skin blocks your view of the sun, furious eyes glowing under his shadow, and sharp teeth bared into a snarl. "you do not get to leave me again. you will stay, and worship me. this island will be our eternal paradise."

large hands pressing against your throat, you struggle before darkness begins to cloud your vision.

"this time, you will live."

#yandere #male yandere #oc art #original yandere character #yandere boy #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #yandere art #yandere male x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere themes #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yancore #yandere oc #original character #male yandere x reader #soft yandere #monster x reader #sea god x reader #yandere sea god #obsession #oc x you #yandere writing #yandere original character #my oc art

[eurofootballtactics]

Finishing drill by scoring a goal

Finishing drill by scoring a goal

The picture above is of a training drill, which involves four players i.e. player A, B, C and D and finishing the drill by scoring the goal. The drill starts when the Player A passes the ball to the Player D who receives the ball and after rolling it in a zig-zag path, shoots it in the bottom left corner to score the goal. After this, the Player B passes the ball to the Player D who upon…

View On WordPress

#finish #finishing #finishing drill #football #football coach #football strategies #football tactics #football training #goal #score #scoring a goal #soccer #soccer coach #soccer exercises #soccer strategies #soccer training

[diejager]

I loved your hybrid bunny reader:) like imagine any cod characters with Feral! hybrid wolf reader that they found on a mission or something. I don’t really care where it goes from there

(Just deleted it if your not interested)

Wolfie

Pairing: CoD men x feral!Wolf!hybrid!reader

Cw: uh… feral reader? Tell me if I missed any. wc: 1.8k

It was a recon mission, scouring the area for any trap and stragglers, not a scantily-clothed hybrid with sharp ears curving backwards in aggression and the matted and dirty fur on the tail. They were searching the forested area for danger and any surprises, but they hadn’t expected to pick up a stray, a feral wolf huddled into the darkness of a tree’s roots, growling at them from your little hideout between the roots in the pit you dug yourself.

Soap was the first to take the initiative, crouching down to your home, showing you his empty hands and whispering comforting promises to your growling and shaking figure. He slowly approached you, a smile spread wide on his face despite the increasingly loud growls and the raised hair on your ears and tail. His soft smile and comforting hand coaxed you out of your hideout, crawling out on your hands and knees, palms bloodied and crusted with calluses and knees hard with throbbing and irritated skin.

Although you seemed more approachable, Gaz did so from the side, his gentler and more logical thinking had him act more hesitantly towards you, a bit more cautious and fearing that he’d scare you away or make you act out if you were spooked. He’d seen a few hybrids in the past, getting to know some quips and behaviours of a hybrid. He has a bag of peanuts, showing you the unopened packet of salted nuts for you to eat, to which you perked up with curiosity. Gaz’s smile grew much wider when your shaky hands took his gift, sharp claws ripping a hole into the plastic to grab a peanut.

From then on, they kept you, ushering you to their temporary base and having you washed from all the dirt and soot that stuck on you from your days in the wilderness, lost, alone and afraid. They took you in, watching over you with a guarded and protective hold. You moved when they moved, joining them on every flight if they were going to use a temporary base until you were trained in combat and tactics to join them in the field. Ghost personally saw to your training, being hands-on and attentive with you, hands holding you or moving you into the right position or giving you cues.

When you’re qualified enough, Price gave you a proud ruffle, messing up your while he smiled pridefully at your accomplishment. He let you cuddle up with him that night, nose pressing against the skin under his jaw with soft crooning from your throat, bathing him in your scent before you went to the others. It was a ritual you often did every few days, snuggling against them and scenting them.

Gaz in the morning, after breakfast and before he went to do his drill. Soap after the drills and fresh out of the shower, cuddling up to him in the Task Force’s rec room. Ghost in the afternoon, when the place was calmer and him, less stressed and tense from the day's work, tiredly working on some paperwork while you snuggled up to him. Finally, Price when he went to sleep, his bed became your bed during these nights.

You meet Alejandro and Rodolfo on another Joint Task Force Op in Mexico to bust a trafficking ring led by the cartel and supported by many international groups around the world, whom you’ll have to take down one by one in their times. You were tasked with tracking the trafficked people rather than having any K9s, your nose and mind sharper than any dog could be, trained and skillful as well.

You were on edge when you first landed, shoulders squared and head held high, posturing your possession of your team. They stared at you, confused with your sudden change of attitude, from relaxed and grinning to aggressive and protective, until they saw a few dog hybrids and cat hybrids running around. You could smell them from the moment you landed, most were domesticated animals, but there were a few ocelots, jaguars, coyotes and pumas, yet no wolves.

Rudy was openly praising you, welcoming you the moment they saw you pop out behind the men. He thought you were a dog, maybe a husky, so when you snarled at him for touching your ears, he backed away, shocked, but not offended. Price explained that you were a wolf hybrid, coat thicker and courser than the soft fur of a husky, but it could become softer after a shower with conditioner on your tail and ears. Ultimately, you let him pet and touch you after he won your respect, trusting him enough to let your guard down and doze off beside him. Maybe you’d scent him one day, adding him to your pack, he’d like that.

Alejandro’s professionalism kept him at a distance, restraining his excitement and giddiness of meeting the 141’s hybrid, their first one. Unlike Rudy, whose rank was closer to yours, Alejandro had to keep in mind that he was a colonel from a foreign military and a stranger to you. He waited until the first expedition, watching the men depend on your cognitive abilities. You were sharper than the dog or coyote hybrids the Los Vaqueros had, you stalked like a wolf, you hunted, acted and killed like one, fast and ruthless. He could outwardly say that he admired your skills, and how well taught you were (to which you smiled and stuck to Ghost, showing Alejandro that Ghost had been the one to train you). 

By the time the Op in Mexico came to term, you felt dejected at leaving, head lowered and ears pointing downward, you were pouting up until you were strapped down, lips pulled in a frown and teary puppy eyes. Alejandro kissed your calloused knuckles and Rudy brought you in his arms, embracing you, they let you scent them one last time before you left, promising that it wouldn't be the last time you see them.

In an unfortunate - or fortunate - turn of events, SpecGru and KorTac had the same objective, meeting up to form a temporary alliance between both PMCs. Unlike your PMC, KorTac was actively recruiting hybrids for their skill set and abilities, so you clashed a lot with the allied hybrids. You clashed with Roze and Horangi a few times, growling at the cougar and tiger hybrid. You outwardly showed your distrust and aggression towards them, wanting to protect your pack even though you knew they were your allies, you just couldn’t ignore your instincts. Even König, the giant bear hybrid, wasn’t free of your aggression, it was laughable to see the smaller wolf hybrid bare their teeth at the giant bear hybrid - a Kodiak bear. 

Ghost would scruff you, holding you back from jumping at them (although he wanted to let you tear through them) until you calmed down, and when you did, seeing past your aggression and protective mindset, you were great company. The Kodiak bear was a ball of anxiety compared to your more sociable character, nearly flinching back when you popped out beside him, smile wide and friendly as he blinked through his shock. He’s the first you befriend, having a lot in common with your sharp senses and predatory needs, seemingly feral rather than calm like the feline predators in KorTac. You were even tempted to ask König to be a part of your pack, wanting to snuggle up with him and co-scent, letting him drown you in his musk and him in your softer pheromones. 

Horangi was a bit harder to approach, his demeanour much too different from yours, but he tolerated you until he didn’t have a choice but to like you with how often König spoke about you and how much he smelled like you. You were a bit too rambunctious and feral for him, but he managed, letting you sit next to him while he cleaned his guns, head tilted to the side and staring at him like a curious pup would. If he forgot the times you shot and growled at him, he found you adorable, from your little shows of possessiveness to your feral aggression when you ripped into an enemy. He wouldn’t let you scent him like König did, but he wasn’t against the idea of scenting you, marking you as his property.

Even the solitary Roze and Mace warmed up to you, watching you run around the base doing something because you couldn’t sit still and do nothing, you had to be in movement and busy, but still stalking and observant, it helped you stay alive in the wilderness. She would flash a smirk your way when you did something that demanded her approval, whispering with Callisto - a posh cat, feline in her manners - about your job well done. “Comme un petit chiot,” the Frenchwoman would laugh. 

Mace reminded you of Ghost with his metallic skull strapped to his face, something that eased you into liking him, but he was human, unlike the many hybrids you often sparred with. He didn’t have a nose that could smell you from a distance or ears that could hear you stalk behind him, Mace was much easier to get to know than any enemy hybrids. No silent rivalry or competition for dominance between predators, he was simply human and more understanding. 

Working alongside other hybrids was something you had to learn, to hold good communication and trust, good thing wolves were sociable and pack animals. It was a learning experience for you, with Horangi teaching you how to control your ferality, to be calmer and less reckless, and with König mentoring you into using your wildness to hunt better, similarly to how he bulldozes into the enemies and ambushing them with a violent entrance. It was a surprise to see you as dejected to see them leave as you did with Los Vaqueros, fated to go back to being rivals until the time called for another allegiance.   

Extra: 

Nikolai had brought someone from the disbanded armistice back to work with the Task Force, a chaotic and violent man exiled from the KSK. Sebastian Krueger was a man who could and would create chaos and laugh while he did, but he was also rational and intuitive. In other words, Krueger was a menace to society and a perfect match for you. He greeted you like an owner would greet his dog, ruffling you and cooing at you with praises and affection. He was unaffected by your growling and biting, welcoming it with a boisterous laugh while he loomed over you with a veiled face and wide shoulders. 

You’d mistake him for a bear hybrid if you didn’t know any better. With his strong build and violent attitude, he could’ve been a grizzly, but no, he was a human with a grizzly’s behaviour. He was rough on the edge and caring at heart, much like König, but he wasn’t socially crippled, Krueger was a solitary person, preferring his solitude and quietness. That, however, doesn’t stop him from whisking you away to his side, a large hand on your thigh to keep you next to him and manhandling you as he pleased to nuzzle and bite like a chew toy. 

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

#x reader #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 x reader #simon riley x reader #konig x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #soap call of duty #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #gaz mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #price mw2 #price call of duty #captain john price #john price #captain price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #horangi x reader #horangi x you #kim horangi hong jin #cod konig

[strang3lov3]

GameStop

Summary: Mall Rats 4! (Can be read alone or, catch up with the mallrats in my masterlist) Joel tells you not to fuck with the Nintendo he stole from GameStop. His one rule. You fuck with it. That’s okay, though. Joel makes you play Mario with his fingers knuckle deep inside you.

Warnings: JOEL IS WEARING GRAY SWEATPANTS THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL🚨‼️ fingering, teasing, edging, orgasm denial blowjobs, unprotected piv, creampie, jjoel is so tender and such a dick, arguing, inglewood up to no good, domestic moments, minor injuries, when will these two fucking kiss!?? Idk

W/C: 4.6k

A/N: thank you very much @papipascalispunk i appreciate you taking the time to edit this. I love you so much. did you know that? And everyone else, do you know how much I love y’all for reading and engaging? I do. In case you didn’t know already 🥰

Joel stands in front of your house early afternoon on Saturday, a box of cords and plastic in one hand as he urgently knocks on your door, “Open up,” he barks, “This shit’s heavy.”

“Fuck,” you groan, walking up to your front door wearing nothing but an ill-fitting t-shirt and some old boxers. You can see Joel waiting impatiently through the window. You open the door and squint at Joel, the daylight too bright for your eyes, “What do you want, Joel?”

“Need to use your TV,” he demands, stepping inside your home and placing a hand on your hip to move you aside, “Move.” 

“Why?”, you resist.

Joel motions toward his box with an annoyed expression on his face and your eyes light up. “Oh yeah,” you say, leading Joel to your living room where he sits in front of your old and boxy television, flipping up panels and tinkering with buttons before plugging in cords, “Can I play too? Will you show me how?”

“If you listen to me, maybe,” Joel mumbles as he’s setting up the console before turning to you, “Are you gonna be good and listen to me?”

“Of course not,” you smirk.

“Figures.”

You didn’t listen yesterday, either. You never do. 

-

Something had caught your eye and you went ahead of Joel, something he absolutely hates. He tells you your place is next to him or behind him. He leads. You follow.

“Would you quit fuckin’ wanderin’, Inglewood?”, Joel hissed at you in the second level of the mall, “I give ya an inch, ya take a mile.”

You rolled your eyes, “Why do you call me that?”

“Cause you’re always up to no good.” 

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“I know you don’t,” Joel sighed.

An odd clicking noise startled you both. It wasn’t quite that signature sound of a clicker, but it was enough to set you both off. You turned to Joel with wide eyes, and he reflexively pulled you close, one hand over your mouth and his other arm wrapped around your waist. Behind me, he mouthed. 

You nodded and took your place behind Joel, heart pounding in your chest. He walked forward slowly before stopping, pulling out his gun and his flashlight. In front of him was a dark silhouetted figure, something he couldn’t quite make out. It stood in front of a store with a broken sign, white and red glass lettering shattered. As he tiptoed closer with you following close behind, his eyes began to piece more things together. The figure was unmoving, and upon closer inspection it looked to be wearing almost…tactical gear? Was it FEDRA? He wondered what the clicking noise was. Probably just the mall deteriorating. If there were infected in the mall, they would have shown themselves by this point.

The figure stayed still, unmoving. Finally, Joel saw it. On the figure’s chest read, ‘Call of Duty: Out October 29, 2003’. Joel let out a breath of relief and put his gun down, “False alarm,” he said. “Wait.”

“What is it, Joel?”, you asked as he took quick steps toward the unmarked store. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice, “Get your ass over here. Follow me. First good thing in this godforsaken mall. Do you know what this is?”

“You know I don’t know what this is.”

Joel explained that it was a GameStop. They used to sell video games and stuff, had all sorts of fun things. He looked like a kid in a candy shop, stealing consoles and cartridges and gushing about how much he loved these games long ago. 

When you and Joel had returned from the mall, he practically sprinted into Ellie’s room, setting up their shared TV with a PlayStation and introducing her to some games. Ellie was ecstatic, and Joel knew she and the TV would be inseparable. 

-

Which leads him here, to your house, in front of your TV. 

“So I take it Ellie’s excited about the games and stuff you got her?”, you ask amused.

Joel fumbles with a controller to a Nintendo Entertainment System. “Big time,” he says. “They’re attached at the hip. So I’m commandeering your TV for today.”

“You could’ve asked, you know,” you tease, “I would’ve given it to you, asshole.”

“Don’t need you to give me nothin’. Just here to use your TV for a bit,” as he draws the curtains in your room, turns on your TV and adjusts the input, then sits back on your couch, legs outstretched on your coffee table, “It’s more fun when I take it from ya, anyway.”

You wonder if Joel gets physically ill at the thought of being polite, being kind to you. Nothing’s ever easy with him. He’s always ready to argue, ready to instigate. You roll your eyes, then leave Joel to take a shower and get dressed. You’re not sure what you were planning on doing on this Saturday, but video games with Joel seems to be your fate. 

By the time you have showered, Joel has already been playing for nearly 2 hours. You dress yourself in some comfy sweatpants and a hoodie, expecting to hunker down in front of the TV with Joel all day. You can hear the soft music from the video game from your room and Joel’s strings of expletives, or his cheers, depending on what’s happening in the game. You make a couple of sandwiches, some sliced apples, and pour a couple of glasses of water before you greet Joel in the living room. Standing in front of the TV, you watch as Joel tries to continue playing. There’s a little guy wearing a red hat, jumping over blocks and stomping on mushrooms. He makes a cute little ‘boing’ noise when he jumps, and the music playing in the background is playful, melodic. 

“Sweetheart, y’make a better door than a window. Get out of the way,” he gruffs. Joel’s got some fucking nerve today. He could have just kindly asked you to move. Tauntingly, you wiggle your ass in front of him, so he reaches over the coffee table and smacks it, “What’d I say about listening? Do you wanna play the game or not?” With Joel’s eyes still transfixed on the TV in front of you, you sit down next to him and place your two plates on the coffee table. “Everyday it’s somethin’ with you. Always tryin’ to get under my skin, always-”, Joel’s voice trails off as he glances at his plate, “Did you make me a sandwich?” 

You shrug, “You’re extra cranky today. Figured you could use a snack.”

“I’m not cranky,” Joel argues, “And I don’t need you makin’ me any snacks. Can make my own food.”

“Okay,” you say, eating your own food, “You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to. I’m not gonna shove it down your throat.”

Joel stays focused on his game until he hears the crunch of you biting into a slice of apple. “Wait, are those apple slices?”, he asks in a low tone. 

“Mhm.”

“You didn’t happen to cut any up for me, did you?”

“I did. Sprinkled cinnamon and sugar on top,” you smile proudly.

You watch Joel grumble to himself and play the game silently until he beats the level he’s on, then he pauses the game and sets his controller down. He picks up his plate of food and eats a couple of apple slices before inspecting his sandwich, “Did you poison this?”

“No, not the sandwich. The apples, yes. Don’t you taste the rat poison?” 

Joel rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his sandwich, “Gonna have to try harder than that, sweetheart. Up the dose next time. Tasty sandwich, though.”

“Noted,” you smile. Joel smiles too, almost imperceptibly, but you see it, the sparkle in his eyes and the way his face lit up when you told him you sliced up some apples for him too. 

“Tell me about your game.”

Joel raises an eyebrow, “It’s Mario. You don’t know Mario?”, and you shake your head no. “Jesus…you age me,” Joel takes another bite of his sandwich before continuing, “Mario’s a video game. Super Mario Brothers. He has a brother, Luigi. They’re plumbers and they fight Bowser to save Princess Peach. So that’s what I’m doin’ here,” Joel motions to the TV, “Savin’ Peach. Eventually.”

“Is it hard?”, you ask. 

“Kinda. Haven’t played in forever. But Tommy and I’d play all the time. Were always fightin’ over the damn Nintendo,” Joel chuckles, “Drove Mom fuckin’ nuts.”

“Maybe we should invite him over then,” you muse. 

“Nah,” Joel says, “Just me and you today.”

You smile, “Just us?” 

Joel nods, finishing the last of his sandwich and his apple slices, “Unfortunately.” He stretches his legs and his arms out long, then rubs his soft belly with a groan. “You’re trouble,” he tells you, “Tryna’ make me fat. I’m gonna go home and change into something cozier - jeans are fuckin’ tight.” 

“Bet I could make them tighter,” you bite your lip and nudge his thigh. 

“That’s a nice offer. You’re a charmer, Inglewood. Maybe later.” You huff as Joel picks up both of your plates and walks them to your kitchen sink, scrubbing and drying each one before pulling on his jacket. He walks back over to where you sit on the couch and points to the TV and his Nintendo, “Do not touch this,” he says, “It doesn’t have a memory card. So if you fuck with it, my progress is gone. Don’t unplug nothin’, don’t touch the TV, don’t–”.

“What if I–”.

Joel doesn’t let you get another word out, “Nope. Don’t do that either. Just leave it be, sit pretty and behave yourself. I’ll be back soon.”

You scoff and cross your arms as Joel leaves while staring at the paused screen of Joel’s game, then flicker your eyes lower to the controller Joel left on the coffee table. He didn’t say anything about playing the game. What’s the worst that could happen?

You reach for the controller and begin messing with the buttons, playing with the D-pad until the screen changes and you press ‘Start Game’.

The game starts. It catches you off guard. You fumble with the buttons until you figure out how to make Mario move, how to make him jump. A couple times you hit an angry looking mushroom and he dies. You snicker to yourself. Figures. Before you know it, you’ve passed Level 1-1 and you’re onto Level 1-2.

Level 1-2 comes and goes, and then Joel’s back at your door. You pause the game as he lets himself in. You wear a mischievous smile when you see him in his gray sweats and a t-shirt – your weakness. You can see the outline of his dick in those pants, and it sends a pang of arousal to your core. “Well don’t you look handsome,” you purr. 

“Pipe down, horndog,” Joel sits down on the couch next to you. Before he can reach for the controller, you slide your hand over one of his thick thighs and palm his bulge, then slip your hand under the waistband of his pants and play with his cock. He sighs as you stroke him, his sweet sounds getting you all hot and bothered. His cock is thick and warm, half hard and growing harder, but he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away. “Later,” he reminds you, “C’mon. I know you can wait. I don’t have much of the game left to play.”

“Okay,” you mumble. You scoot closer to Joel as he picks up the controller, wrapping your arm around his and resting your head on his bicep. You squeeze your thighs together tightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure at your core. He tries to shake you off of him, but you don’t budge. “I’m cold, Joel,” you protest.

“So get a blanket. I ain’t your heater,” he complains, but you feel him relax with your touch, snuggling up to you a little closer like maybe he’s cold too, “God, you make me nuts.”

You say nothing as Joel reaches for the controller, presses a couple buttons before the game starts again. He starts playing, then squints and furrows his brows. “Woah, woah, woah,” he says, “This ain’t right. What - why - what happened? Did you touch this? Tell me you didn’t touch this.”

“I didn’t touch it,” you lie. 

Joel turns to you and glares, “What. Did. You. Do.”

“I tried out your game,” Joel continues glaring at you and you raise your arms in surrender, “What?”

Joel cups your cheeks in both of his big hands and shakes your head gently, “Why would you do that?” 

“You told me not to unplug anything. I didn’t unplug anything.”

“I also told you not to touch anything,” Joel groans, “Do you know how long it took me to beat those levels?”

“Just pick up where you left off, Joel.”

“I told ya, it doesn't work like that. No memory card, no progress. I have to start over now,” Joel whines, “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

“Beats me,” you say, “But–”, you take one of Joel’s hands from his controller and suck his fingers before slipping it under the waistband of your sweatpants, “Now we can get down to brass tacks. Hmm?”

“One rule,” Joel hisses as cups your mound, “I gave you one fuckin’ rule.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But now that you’re not playing Mario anymore, you can make me come. And then I’ll make you come. And you’ll forget you were ever mad at me.”

Joel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before turning to you, his eyes now mischievously lit up. “You’re right,” he says, “I’m not playing Mario anymore. You are.” He places the controller in your hands, “I told you I wanted to beat the game, and mayb then I’d fuck ya. So now you’re gonna get me back to where I was so I’ll finish up the game, and maybe, maybe after that, I’ll fuck you. Cause I’m not doin’ all of this again. I’ve got other games I wanna play too.”

“Piece of cake,” you reply confidently. Though really, playing Mario is harder than it looks.

“Oh, really? Is it that easy?”, Joel says, raising his eyebrows in amusement at your confidence as you nod, “If ya say so. I thought you said it’s harder than it looks. Whatever. Go on, then.” Situating yourself next to Joel, you adjust your grip on the controller. Joel’s hand is still beneath your pants, fingers resting against your lips. You look at him, wondering if he’ll pull his hand away. “You put it there,” he says. “It’s stayin’.”

Whatever. You start the game feeling confident in yourself, and then Mario hits a mushroom and he shrinks. And then he hits another mushroom, and he dies. Joel hums in amusement and you shove your elbow into his side. “I didn’t say anything,” he smirks.

It takes you about ten minutes to get the hang of it, but eventually you do. When you start a new level, Joel presses two of his fingers against your pussy and it startles you. Mario hits a turtle and he shrinks again. “Joel,” you gasp, “What are you doing?”

Dragging his fingers up and down your folds at a leisurely pace, Joel shrugs, “Nothin’.” He’s definitely not doing “nothing”. It’s getting harder to focus now, and you’re making mistakes, getting hit by enemies, missing those little mushroom power ups that come at you every so often. You huff in frustration, and Joel chuckles to himself, “You suck, sweetheart.”

“Shut up, Joel.”

He presses the tip of his middle finger against your entrance, pushes inside before pulling his finger back out and dragging it up to your clit, smirking when your breath hitches in your throat, “Do you need some help? Pointers, maybe?”

“No,” you grit, “Shut up, Joel.”

“Hmm, alright,” he hums, his thick fingers now circling your sensitive bud. You can feel his intense gaze on you as you play the game, squashing Mario’s enemies to the best of your ability, but you were right the first time, it’s harder than it looks. Joel turns his attention back to the TV, “Hit that box with the question mark.” You raise your eyebrow in suspicion. It’s probably a trap. With Joel, it’s always a trap. “Watch what happens,” he instructs, so you hit the box and a flower emerges. Joel tells you to jump on it, so you do. Warily, though. Mario changes outfits. “There you go. Now if you press B,” he taps the other button on the controller, “You can shoot those guys with a fireball. Try it out.” 

Mario does in fact shoot fireballs at the enemies. This advantage makes the game come along smoother, so Joel ups the ante, drawing tight circles into your clit. “Joel,” you moan, “Quit it. You’re distracting me.”

“Thought you wanted me to make you come,” Joel taunts.

“I do, but not like thi–fuck–Joel, stop.”

“Tough luck,” Joel responds, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

You do your best to ignore the sensation of Joel touching you, but it’s hard. He knows exactly where to touch you, how to touch you to make you squirm and moan for him. You have to fight yourself to keep your eyes from rolling back when Joel pushes two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out for a moment before abruptly curling them upward, hitting that sweet spot he knows and loves. “Jesus, Joel,” you moan, accidentally pressing the lower end of the D-pad. On the TV, Mario slides down a pipe and is brought to a new area. He’s able to run across the top of the screen, then finds an area with a bunch of pipes called the Warp Zone. This changes the game. You’re able to skip levels, making this whole thing go by even quicker. You’ll be on your way to fuck town in no time.

“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna figure that out,” Joel rubs his thumb over your clit as he fucks you with his two middle and ring fingers. You’re able to find a couple more pipes that allow you to go to Warp Zones, which doesn’t require quite as much focus on the screen. You allow yourself to savor the way Joel touches you, that warmth building up in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you moan. That familiar edge begins to creep up just as you’re finishing another level. Your breathing quickens, your pussy dripping and gushing with every movement of Joel’s thick fingers. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–”.

“Thanks sweetheart. That was a big help,” Joel yanks the controller from you with his free hand, then pulls the other away from your core. Now that you’ve gotten him to where he left off in the game, he focuses all of his attention on the TV, as if he was never touching you. 

“Are you serious?”, you’re in disbelief but Joel doesn’t answer, “Joel, I was about to–”.

“I know.”

You scoff, “Fuck you, man.”

“Yeah, I know you wanna. But I told you, you gotta wait til I’m done. You’re very forgetful, you know that?”

Frustrated, you shove your hand under your sweats and pick up where Joel left off. He clears his throat, “You can play with your pussy, or I can. Pick one but we’re not doin’ both. It’s up to you.” 

Jesus fucking Christ. This is bullshit. Joel can take control of your TV, but not your pleasure. You watch him in astonishment, how he pays you no mind as he plays the game. His eyes are glazed over and his lips slightly parted, deep in focus. It’s like you’re not even there. You lower your eyes from his face to his lap where his fingers move deftly, still slick and shiny with your juices. His thumbs dart back and forth over the D-pad and the buttons, and you wish he was still touching you like that. Expertly, with dedication and precision.  And then it catches your eye – the tent in his sweatpants, that little spot of dampness where his head rests against the fabric. He’s fucking rock hard from playing with you, leaking precome. You’re impressed with Joel’s ability to ignore his own arousal. Good for him. You, however, won’t ignore it. 

In a swift maneuver, too quick for Joel to even process, you pull down his sweats and let his cock spring free, setting the waistband under his heavy balls. You don’t even think, you just do it – lifting up his arm, you dive under and grip the base of his cock. You guide his tip to your mouth, swirling your tongue around his swollen head before letting it part your lips. Joel groans, “Think you can play dirty too, huh?”

“Mhm,” you mumble against him. 

“Knock yourself out,” he tells you, “You’re forgettin’ I have something you don’t – self control, my darlin’.”

You don’t care. This is more for you than it is for him, anyway. You haven’t gotten to taste him yet and it’s been on your mind. He tastes heady, salty, and slightly sweaty on your tongue. He’s warm and thick, you like the way his cock feels in your mouth. His smooth skin, how he squirms when you slide his cock to the back of your throat. 

Joel groans as you work his shaft, one hand gripping his base, the other fondling his balls. You hum against him, sending vibrations down his shaft. He rests the sides of his hands on your head as he plays with the controller, pushing you further down on his cock. “Last level,” he tells you. You suck him mindlessly as he plays, listening to Joel hissing expletives. You smirk with him in your mouth knowing which of his curses are directed at you and which are directed at the TV. 

Joel’s cock stiffens and twitches, he’s getting closer. You know it and so does he. “You know,” he says in a soft, warning tone, “If ya make me come, you’re shit outta luck. Can’t fuck you.”

Oh, shit. You weren’t even thinking about that. You pull your mouth off of him instantaneously, smacking your head against his controller and sending it flying out of his hands. “Fuck,” Joel barks. 

The controller lands upside down on the corner of your coffee table, the buttons hitting the edge just so, and Joel watches in horror as Mario disappears from the TV and is replaced by the main menu. 

You rub your head where you hit it on the controller, but Joel is no longer staring at the TV in disbelief. Instead, he’s looking at you. “Shit. I’m sorry, Joel,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to do that. I’m really sorry.”

You expect Joel to be angry like usual, but he instead pulls your hand away from your scalp, lowers you so he can check the area you hit and give it a kiss, then lifts your chin back up while rubbing your bump. “It was an accident,” he speaks soothingly, “Mario can wait. Are you hurting?”

“Not terribly,” you tell him. And it’s the truth. 

“No? You sure?” You shake your head no and Joel nods. He rubs your head for a little bit longer, his big brown eyes are soft and sweet and worrisome. The kindest he’s ever looked at you, kindest he’s ever been to you. And all you had to do was smack your head on his video game. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, then pulls you close and whispers quietly, “Would you still like me to fuck you? We don’t have to if you’re not up for it anymore.” 

You grin and nod your head, “Yes, please. I want it.”

“Get your ass over here, then,” Joel says as he lifts your hips and pulls your pants off, then pulls his own further down his thighs. He guides you to straddle his lap, holding his cock loosely between his middle and index fingers and his thumb. He drags his tip through your folds, then notches himself at your entrance before pulling your hips down, burying himself in you all the way to the hilt. 

You grip his shoulders and press your forehead to his own, sighing softly as you get adjusted to his girth. “I missed your cock,” you breathe, “Missed it so much.”

“I know you did, sweetheart. I missed you too.”

When you’ve adjusted, you begin to roll your hips, rubbing your clit against that soft patch of hair at the base of his cock, moaning and grunting softly, “Oh, Joel. Feels good.”

“I know it does,” he sighs as he leans forward to lift up your shirt and pulls it off of your body, then takes off his own, “That’s better.” He runs his thumbs over the soft curve of your tummy, then slides his hands up your rib cage before cupping your breasts, twisting and rolling your nipples. 

The way he looks at you makes your cheeks feel hot. You lean forward to hide your face, grinding your hips into him. He holds you close to his body with his hands wrapping around your back before gripping your ass and bouncing you up and down on him, stretching and parting your insides. You allow yourself to rest against him, letting him do the work and take care of you. His cock feels incredible. So thick, so hard, hitting against all of your favorite spots. “So good, takin’ me so good, sweetheart,” he praises, “Ya always do.”

Joel squeezes your ass tighter. He can see your reflection in the TV, loving the way your body moves, how you tremble, how you rock your hips, how you whimper his name. It’s all for him. “Wanna, fuck,” he sighs, snaking his hand between your bodies as he finds your clit with his fingertips, rubbing circles around it, “Wanna make you come on my cock. Make those pretty noises for me.”

With Joel’s cock hitting you right where you need him, his fingers playing with your clit, it’s not long before your orgasm approaches. “Right there, Joel. Like that, just like that,” you moan breathlessly, “I’m gonna come for you.”

“Yeah, gimme a good one,” he says. He fucks you expertly, each of his thrusts deep and intentional. It’s all for you. He just wants to watch you come, hear you moan his name, feel you soak his cock. Your breaths quicken and your moans quiet as you near your climax, and you come with loud cries and moans. Joel pulls you close, fucking you through it as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. “Fuck,” he hisses rocking his hips into you once, twice, three more times before he comes with a groan, painting your insides with rope after rope of his hot seed. 

You fall forward, resting your face against the couch as you both catch your breath. He rests his head next to you, looking deep into your eyes before flicking his gaze to your lips, then back up to your eyes. You stare at his lips too.

“Your head still okay?” he asks, “Smacked it real good.”

“Think so.”

“Gonna keep an eye on it anyway,” Joel whispers, “What am I gonna do with you, Inglewood, hmm?”, bringing his hand to your face and rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. You’re still staring at his lips. His pink, pouting lips that have never kissed your own.

“I’m not sure,” you murmur, “What do you think?”

Joel runs his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling it down before letting go, “Haven’t got a clue.”

Joel leaves you to grab a warm wash rag and clean you up, then helps you back into your clothes. He reaches for the controller and starts up Super Mario Brothers one more time, and you snuggle his bicep like before. This time, he doesn’t try to move you. 

If you enjoyed, please reblog, comment, send me an ask! Tell me what you thought! Support your favorite writers, we ain't doing this for free!!

No taglist! Follow @strang3stories and turn on notifs!

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #mall rats #mall rats!joel #mall rats joel

[defensenow]

#youtube #military #Evacuation Operation #Training Scenario #Exercise #War Games #Wilderness #Desert Warfare #Marines #Special Forces #Desert #Combat #Mission #Military Training #Tactical #Military Operations #Soldiers #Rescue Operation #War Simulation #Military Exercise #Intense Training #Military Drill #Combat Training

[magics-neptunes-things]

Header

Hi guys!

This is a request I had some days (or weeks?) ago. I hope it would please the sweet anon who asked for it :)

Enjoy!

TW : Concussion, blood, injury, fainting.

_____________________________________________________________

Since the beginning of the day, something seems of when you look at your girlfriend. She seems worried, not at ease and is excessively clingy with you. Not that you don’t like it, but Lia always have said that you should be careful about your relationship. She doesn’t exactly want to be secret, but she wants people to concentrate on her play and not on her relationship. Which you can understand, her breakup with Caitlin Foord looked like it involved a lot of other people. The fans, actually.

You choose not to come together this afternoon for the game, you’re playing in the Arsenal’s stadium, so you have to come with your cars. You asked Alessia to pick you up and Lia is supposed to get you home. Because of the traffic jam Alessia and you are a little late. You are surprised to see you girlfriend almost jumping on you when you arrive, grabbing you by the sleeve of your jacket.

“Where the hell have you been?! I was worried sick!”

You look at her with incredulity written on your face. Where is your girlfriend, always calm, posed, thoughtful and rational?

“We had a lot of traffic on the road, but everything’s fine. Are you ok?”

She doesn’t answer, grabbing you by the hand this time, to get you to the changing room. You question Leah with a look, but the blonde only shrugs her shoulders. You take Alessia with you with your free hand, dragging her with you.

You are not even late when you get on the pitch, starting the training after hearing some of tactical adjustments from Jonas. Lia, sitting next to you, doesn’t seem to be able to stay still. And she is very nervous during the drill too, making you wonder what the hell is happening to her.

You take her around a corner before going to change for the game, far away from the other’s ears.

“Lia what’s happening? You are acting weird since this morning.”

“Nothing” Lia sighs, looking around her.

Everywhere but you. You cup her cheek with your hand, attending to have a real exchange of look with her. You know that when you look at her in her eyes, she can’t lie.

“Lia” you say with a soothing voice. “Talk to me Baby, please.”

She sights and rub her face, still leaning against your touch anyway.

“You are going to think that I’m stupid.”

“Not even in your wildest dream.”

This time your girlfriend rolls her eyes and smile lightly, making you smirk in return. You know that if it’s affecting Lia like this, this isn’t nothing.

“I just have that feeling that something bad will happen. I had it when Leah did her ACL and it’s back.”

The Swiss woman already talked to you about the feeling she had that day, almost seeming to say that it was her fault if something like that happened to Leah. You trust her, obviously. But your job is to reassure her too.

“It’s going to be ok Babe, I swear. I won’t let anyone take you down.”

Next to Katie and Leah for today, you are a defender. And for you, your job is to not let the other team come near your goalkeeper, but not to touch any of your teammates too. The fans call you The Bodyguard, and it’s not for your passion for the song « I will always love you ». You are higher than Lia but you aren’t really high either. You don’t seem to be big too, but your muscles allow you to stay with your feet firmly on the ground against almost every charge.

You offer a hug at Lia, who cuddle against you. She doesn’t exactly worry about herself, more about one of your friends. But she tries to convince herself what you said. It’s going to be alright.

During the game, you see your girlfriend flinch every time that one of your teammates is on the ground. Liverpool isn’t playing dirty, there are some faults of course, but it’s a great game. At halftime, it’s 2-0 for Arsenal.

But when you are back in your cubby, your girlfriend always seems to the point of fainting from stress. You decide to abandon Lotte and her cubby next to yours to go sit next to Lia in her cubby. You propose her half of your banana, which she take with a small smile. Looking around to be sure that no one is looking at you, you kiss her cheek.

“Breath Babe. Everything is fine, see? We are winning and no one is hurt.”

Lia nod and take your arm against her, trapping it between her two. You let her, smiling when she put her head on it. When it’s time to get back, you kiss her hair and follow her peacefully.

You should have listened to her though. Because it’s not her, it’s not one of your teammates that get hurt at the end of the game.

It’s you.

Around the 80 minutes, you are running on the box to try to take a ball from Caitlin. She sends it and at the same time as you, another player from the other team is jumping. Your heads collided. Hard. You were running from all your speed, so is your opponent. The first shock almost knocks you out immediately, but the way you fall on the ground with all your weight, head first, it’s the one thing too many.

You fall out, not reacting at first when Caitlin run to you, making you roll to your side. Jonas is screaming to the medic to “get your ass on the pitch right now”. When they arrive at your side, Alessia and Katie are here too. But Lia is frozen at the other side of the pitch, unable to make a move.

After some hesitation and realizing that the medical team shushed away almost everyone from you, Leah decides to take care of Lia. There is only Katie left next to you, maybe because she’s your best friend. Some feet from away you, Alessia and Caitlin are shaking and Lia knows right away that this is bad.

“Lia” Leah calls her.

The Swiss woman looks at her friend, who doesn’t know what to say. The blonde just takes Lia’s hand, training her slowly in the direction of the bench, where your other teammates are. But when she realizes where she’s going, Lia stop dead in her track.

“I want to see her” Lia mumbles.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea...”

Alessia, who were not far from them give a look at Leah. She shakes her head at Leah behind Lia’s back and the blonde understand quickly. But Lia sees that Leah is looking at someone and Alessia can’t stay quiet when she sees your girlfriend’s face.

“I think it’s better that you stay here for some seconds. There is blood and…”

And suddenly there is more movement next to you and they can see Katie standing up. Her hands are red with your blood and Lia starts walking without really realizing it. She ignores Leah calling her, she just wants to see you.

“Lia, stop, Sweetheart” Katie says softly when she saw your girlfriend’s coming.

“I want to see her” Lia mumbles, looking at Katie.

“I know. Just wait some seconds, ok? Believe me, please. She’s breathing but passed out, they want to clean her wound. And she kind of… Throw up. They say it’s because of the shock.”

A little far from you, the other injured player is standing but have a bag of ice against her head. But she’s up, unlike you. Lia watches Katie washes her hand and let a sob out before talking.

“I knew something bad would happen, I told her. It can’t be happening again.”

“Lia stop, it’s not your fault.”

But before she can explain why it actually is, the medical team is moving you off the pitch. They put you on a stretcher and Lia could now have a full look on you. You’re still off, a massive bandage around your head and some blood is still on your face.

“I’m going with her” Lia informs Jonas.

The man is a little surprised, usually Lia is the one of all her player who will listen to him without a second thought. But right now, he saw the despair on Lia’s face and know right away that he can ask her to finish the game.

“We’ll bring you your stuff” Leah says.

Kyra gives Lia her jacket to keep her warm and with that the Swiss woman is following you until you are in the ambulance. They put you on monitor and gave a call to the hospital to say that you are coming. You’re still not up and they want to make some tests to know and understand why.

At the hospital, a sweet nurse takes Lia in the waiting room, offering her a coffee. Lia takes it, but when Katie, Leah and Caitlin are here, her cup is still full. Katie put your bags next to Lia on the ground and Leah sits next to Lia, kissing her head. Caitlin looks unsure about what to do though. She came because she wanted to be there for Katie and for Lia too, but with their past, she doesn’t know if Lia wants her here.

They exchanged a look though and Lia just nod in direction of a free chair next to Katie. With a small smile, Caitlin sits next to Katie, taking her hand is hers.

“What did they say?” Leah asks.

“Almost nothing. They are making tests and x-ray to see how her injury is. She didn’t wake up, Lee.”

Lia doesn’t want to cry. She really doesn’t. But she can’t stop the tears from rolling on her cheeks. Big, hot tears. Feeling her heart breaking for her friend, Leah takes her against her and let Lia put her head on her shoulder.

“It’s going to be ok” Leah mumbles.

Some time pass, hours actually, and Lia almost fall asleep on Leah’s shoulder from exhaustion. But she jumps every time, trying not to. Even if the three other girls told them that they will wake her up. Lia rings your parents instead, even if she doesn’t have anything good to say to them.

“Family of Y/N Y/L/N?”

“It’s me. I mean it’s us”

Lia jumps on her legs and almost run to the doctor. He looks at the four girls with an arched brow.

“Are you all her family?”

“This is her girlfriend” Katie answers almost aggressively.

Caitlin takes discreetly her hand in hers, trying to calm her girlfriend. The doctor sighs but add nothing, looking back at his papers.

“So, we made some test to understand her injury better. She doesn’t have anything broken or blood inside, but she has a massive concussion. We don’t know when she will wake up and she will obviously staying here all the time she needs to wake up. Maybe she will have some repercussions, but we can’t say anything right now.”

“What do you mean, repercussions?”

Leah asks for Lia, who seems very close to a nervous break down.

“Loss of memory, attention disorders, chronic headaches, nausea” he starts to list with a disinterested air. “Language and visualization in space disorders, change of behavior, character... Well, you know. All that. I have to go I’m sorry, ask the nurse if you need anything”

It’s with a defeat face that Lia turns herself in the direction of her friends. They all look stunned, but no one know what to say.

“How am I supposed to tell that to her parents?” Lia whispers before realizing something else. “He didn’t even say if we can see her!”

“Let me see if I can find someone.”

Caitlin left to find a nurse and when she comes back almost five minutes later, the three others are in the same disposition.

“I will take you to Y/N, ok Love?”

It’s the same nurse that gave Lia some coffee before, and the Swiss woman just nod, following her in the floors of the hospital. They don’t say anything before being in front of your room.

“Four is a little too much but for now I will let you in. But please, be quiet, ok?”

They all nod, before going in and Lia can’t stop some tears from falling. You seem so small in this bed with all the monitors around you. They change your bandage so it’s not bloody anymore. But you have a black eye and the cocky smile you usually have on your face is gone.

Lia lets herself fall on the chair who is the closest from you, taking her head in her hands.

“The doctor said that she will have like trouble of memories and language when she will wake up” Katie says to the nurse.

She frowns at her, before rolling her eyes.

“Those are some possibilities, but they are very rare and it usually happens when the concussion isn’t healed fast. Y/N had professional who were here for her immediately, the risks are very small. They exist, that’s for sur. But don’t think about it now.”

The nurse’s statements allow Lia to breathe a little better. Her muscles remain very tense when Leah puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Lia gets closer to you while the other three are busy warning the people you are closest to, while the nurse (Lydia, like her tag says) left the room after asking them not to stay to long at four people.

“Hey Love” Lia whispers, her chin on the mattress next to your face. “It’s me. I know you are hurt and I’m really sorry. Take the time you need to get better, but please, please, come back to me.”

********

It was hard for your friends to make Lia leaves you, even for some hours and even if someone else is here to have a look on you. She’s terrified that something could happened to you while she’s not here. Or that you wake up all alone in your room. They managed to take her at least once a day off anyway, so that she can take a shower and change her clothes.

Lia is currently sitting on the same chair, making some Sudoku she stole from Leah, when she hears you mumble something. She almost falls of her chair in her precipitation to have a look at you. You already moved a little this morning, but you were still deep asleep.

“Love? Can you hear me?” Lia whispers.

It takes you all your strength to open your eyes, the intensity of the light immediately making your head hurt.

“Lia?”

After that there are some noises and movements around you. Lia called the nurses, and your mother came back running in the room. But Lia never left your hand, and this is what helps you to stay focus.

After Lia helped you to drink some water, the doctor comes to you with his flashlight to look at your eyes. The light makes you groan in pain and Lia mumble something in Swiss-German that the doctor should be happy not to understand.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” he asks you.

“Tired” you mumble hardly.

“Yes, that’s normal. You will be for some more days.”

He keeps talking but you can’t focus anymore. Squeezing very weakly Lia’s hand around yours, you fall asleep again.

Days are passing and you get better, but really slowly. The first days, you can barely open your eyes. You felt more than you saw Lia, your parents and Katie’s presence next to you. It seems like your girlfriend is always here when you open your eyes, looking way to worried for your taste.

With more days, you can stay awake a little bit longer, but you can’t have a big conversation. You listen and look lovingly at Lia, smile at Katie when she tells you real-life training stories through exaggerated gestures and you let your mother washing your hair when they change your bandage, something she probably never have done since you are two.

You did more tests too and the only problems you seem to have now, is a constant need to sleep and difficulty to keep focus. But Lydia told you that it would probably get better with time. The club made a statement about your case, and you let them handle that, trusting them with all your being.

********

“I have a good new, Y/N” sings Lydia when she comes to your room that day. “You can go home today.”

Lia smiles and you frowns. You don’t want to be something difficult to manage to Lia, you are not living together but you know that you will need someone to take care of you for some days.

“Isn’t it too soon?” your mother asks.

“I don’t think so. She has great results for the tests, get better every day and I’m sure that Lia here will take great care of her.”

She winks at you and Lia and you smirk when you see that Lia is blushing a little. Your mother can’t say anything against that, she knows perfectly how much you mean to Lia. And how much she means to you.

“I will come back with the fills to signs, the different prescriptions and everything you will need. Take your time to be ready, yeah?”

You nod and your mother takes her phone from her purse.

“I’m going to call your dad.”

It’s like the first time that you find yourself all alone with Lia. And you take advantage of that to ask her the question that is on your mind.

“Are you sure? It probably will be complicated and with the trainings and all…”

“I am sure, Y/N. Don’t worry, really. I will take great care of you, like Lydia says. We can go to your house if you want… Well, it would probably be better that way, you don’t have stairs like I do.”

You look at her rumble, your head against the cushion. You have your cocky smirk back and Lia realize it immediately of course.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing. I’m just lucky to have you. And I love you.”

She gives you her shy, beautiful smile back and takes you very softly against her. Even if you only have a head injury, she looks sometimes like she thinks you have broken ribs or something. Which you don’t.

“I love you too.”

She kisses lovingly your forehead, and you tilt your head in your direction, pouting. It makes her roll her eyes but she complied, kissing your lips softly. After that, she put her forehead against yours, looking deep in your eyes.

“You don’t know how much I am relieved that you are ok. I don’t know what I would have done if…”

With a finger on her lips, you make her be silent. She already excuses herself the other day, affirming that your injury was because of her. Because of her feeling that day and you already told her that this is stupid.

“Lia, stop. I am fine and I will be even better thanks to you. Please stop thinking that way.”

You are still very weak to be honest and you will have to take a wheelchair to left the hospital. You slept the journey to go to your house and fall asleep again after taking a proper shower with Lia’s help.

But you will get better and eight weeks after your injury, you are back on the pitch, stronger than ever.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #lia wälti imagine #lia walti imagine #lia wälti x reader #lia walti x reader #lia walti #lia wälti

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Part 2 to Desperate Times Call for Filthy Fantasies

Daddy Dom!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Brat!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader

Summary: After a certain Lieutenant allowed his fantasies to run wild, there was only one thing left to do: make them a reality. Opportunity presents itself one day as your brattiness has reached new highs and he follows you into the communal bathroom and locks the door behind you both. You're all alone and now what? Seems you've bitten off more than you can chew, but you both know now that was your plan all along.

Word Count: 5.2 k

Warnings:

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ghost demanded as he stepped up to confront you, his voice sharp and harsh. You were in quite the mood today, deciding the night before that instead of pulling your usual bullshit you would be employing a new tactic to piss of your Lieutenant.

There was no way for you to have known how your superior had allowed his fantasies to run rampant through his mind, how he had been in a constant state of being turned on whenever he had to be near you now, how his cock was nearly raw from how many times he’d had to jerk it lately. No, you didn’t know any of that, but it definitely helped your newest little scheme.

“I’m not doing anything,” you said, not even bothering to look into the face of the man trying to reprimand you as you again moved away back to what you were doing.

You should have just been running drills before rifle practice, but instead of simply getting to it and doing it in silence, every time Ghost passed near you a suggestive noise slipped out of your mouth. Moaning, panting, humming; all those beautiful noises of what you would sound like as you climaxed just loud enough that he alone could hear.

It took every ounce of his strength to subdue the aching bulge consistently being made to grow in his pants, threatening to tent the fabric out and display his true feelings about the entire situation and every minute that passed it became almost impossible to quell. Goddamn him for indulging his imagination because now he had to deal with this shit and it made him furious that there was nothing he could do to fix it. Well, not yet.

Making another round to supervise his subordinates, he again passed by you and again was met with a closed-lipped moan as he got within earshot. You looked up as you finished your bit of vocal acting and locked eyes with him in an unmistakable act of defiance which he took the bate of.

“Dammit, I said stop,” he ordered, but again you brushed him off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s it,” he growled, “I’m not playing games anymore private. You want to get reprimanded again?”

You shrugged. “Fine. What will it be this time, sir? Five hundred push ups or shall I run until the sun sets. Just make up your mind quick so I can get this started.”

Fucking bitch, he thought. “Push ups, now. And if I see your back not straight a board you are starting over. Got it?”

“Sure,” you said as you rolled your eyes and got on your hands and knees.

Not again, he could not take another second of this. Something had to be done or he was going to explode. What was your fixation with inducing his rage? Why could you simply not leave him be?

Ghost had already thought it before, but he had to wonder even more with this new development if the reason behind your actions was to get his attention, the type of attention that wasn’t so innocent. As his hand discreetly adjusted his cock inside his pants, it already throbbing against his touch, he knew he needed to find out.

It was the middle of the day when Ghost finally caught back up with you. At the far end of the base, near the Private barracks, he saw you chatting away with some of your fellow recruits. He watched silently, trying to concoct a plan to get you alone and finally nip this shit in the bud. There were plenty of things he could do: walk up and order you to his office, walk into the barracks and order everyone else out, but as he stood there brooding with what to do, you said your goodbyes and broke off from the small group.

His eyeline followed you as you walked your unsuspecting way to the communal bathrooms alone and stepped inside. This was his chance, at least it looked that way from the outside. Before he could stop himself or think of any possible ramifications of his actions, he stormed right in after you without hesitation. The moment he was inside his gaze scanned the room quick to locate you and found you standing in front of the sinks, peering at yourself in the mirror as you checked your face and hair, then moving on to readjust your breasts to sit up higher in your bra.

Your gaze shifted from the mirror once you felt that familiar pair of eyes on you and as you turned you saw the broad form of your superior officer blocking up the doorway with his impressive figure. He was silent, but then again wasn’t he always? Probably come to continue the earlier argument; good thing you were always ready to push him.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you said nonchalantly with a hint of sarcasm as you finished preening without caring if he saw. “Came to powder your nose as well? Please, don’t let me stop you. I promise I won’t look if you pull off the mask.”

He was quiet, too quiet, as those brown eyes again looked thoroughly through the room. What the hell was he searching for you wondered. It took him less than a minute to finally turn his attention back to you and as he secured that intimidating gaze directly into your eyes, his hand slipped behind his back and you heard a click as the lock on the bathroom door was engaged.

Slowly you turned away from the sink, facing him as you crossed your arms just under your chest. “Care to tell me what this is about, sir?” you asked, not the least bit afraid. “Kind of suspicious the way you just locked us in here like that.”

“Don’t you fucking dare play coy with me, princess,” he growled, his voice deep and menacing as his glare drilled daggers into you through the eye holes of his mask. “We both know exactly what the fuck it is you are doing and if you think you’ll just get away with it anymore, you’re fucking wrong luv.”

The corner of your lip upturned into a smirk. “Care to actually explain what it is I am being accused of? Or would you rather I start making a scene so you get caught doing … whatever this is by keeping me trapped in here? Your choice Lieutenant.”

Christ, the way you made his body burn with an uncontrollable need to put you in your fucking place, to have you bending over backward to his whims, was both infuriating and intoxicating all at once until he did not know up from down. You were fiery and that’s exactly how liked them; the challenge of making the spicy ones come to heel was half the fun for him. And it had been quite a while since he had been able to put his skill to the test.

“Your lack of respect and piss poor attitude are getting fucking old, little girl,” he hissed, his lips curling into a snarl under the fabric of his mask. “And now you want to pull this, hmm? Can’t bitch your way out of it so you decide to make yourself look like a slag to, what? Distract me?”

“Is that what this is about?” you questioned, followed by a malicious chuckle, shaking your head; he didn’t know what he was getting himself into. “And so what if I am?”

“Excuse me?” he interjected.

“You heard me,” you stood firm. “You see, I checked and double checked, I’m still within dress code so I don’t see your fucking problem. Besides, maybe I like making you stare whenever I am around; that’s not a crime and, let’s be honest, there is nothing you can do about it.”

Was that more provocation? Because now that he had the upper hand, it would definitely come with a price. The more defiant you got the harder he became. “Oh,” he said as he took a few steps closer, his boots crunching as they crushed the debris stuck in the grooves along the bottom. “Is that so?”

You weren’t going to back down, not when you were ready to see what he was going to do about it. “If you have a personal problem with me distracting you, maybe you should look into stroking it more often instead of acting like it’s my fault.”

“That’s because it is, sweetheart, and I’m fucking sick of it.”

Large, heavy sounding steps that seemed magnified by the otherwise quiet room kept the beat as he stalked towards the object of his ire and his desire. You matched his pace only moving backwards until your shoulder blades hit the wall; there was nowhere else for you to go now.

This wasn’t like those times during trainging when others had been around to boost your confidence in your back talk, this was a new side to him that you had yet to see. No shouting, no barking orders, nothing but silent intimidation by his impressive physical form. He towered over you in an imposing fashion and shut you up real fucking quick. Looking up into his face, you noticed the look he now gave you had gone dark as the closeness had cast shadows over his eyes behind the mask, giving him a feral look that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Where’s that attitude of yours now, hmm?” Ghost questioned. “That’s what I thought. You see, I realized that I’ve been going about this all wrong, luv.”

Reaching out his arm, his hand found its target and with powerful fingers he wrapped them around your slender neck. He didn’t touch you with hesitation as if he was unsure about what his intentions were, he touched you like he fucking owned you and you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks and a throbbing between your thighs at that certainty. His grip was firm, but not painful; he wanted you to know that the control was no longer yours.

“Daddy never disciplined you when you got out of line, did he, princess? I bet he spoiled you fucking rotten and now you think you can just do whatever you want and there won’t be any fucking consequences, is that it?” He shook his head with a click of his tongue.

Through his palm, you could feel his heatbeat pounding furiously. This was the first time he had really touched you and there was a certain jolt there as his skin connected with yours. Those copper eyes sparked to life like a fire had been kindled inside him as he glared down at you.

“Too bad I am not one to let you get away with it anymore,” he stated, “no, you are about to be made to follow directions. I’ve tried and fucking tried to get through to you, but I was going about it all wrong, wasn’t I? You are challenging me because you secretly want me to put you in your fucking place, isn’t that right?”

Looking up at him through heavy lids and thick eyelashes, you didn’t need to say a word; your silence said volumes. “You want my attention,” he said, “and fuck, you are going to have it.”

On of his wide knees found your thighs and with a good bit of pressure applied he split them apart. His own thigh pushed against your sex and he found that it was warm against his leg. As he pushed in farther, his eyes caught you struggling not to let him notice the way you took your bottom lip into your mouth and bit down, clearly from something being stimulated.

“Poor little girl,” he degraded cockily in that deep, gruff voice of his, “now that I’m this close I can see how goddamn pathetic you’ve been this whole time. Pushing me to my limit just to see what I would do. What is it you need? Want a big, strong man with more experience to make you their bitch?”

Those big doe-eyes stared right back at him. “Yes,” you confirmed quietly.

Ghost nodded his head. “Fine, I’ll bite, but we do this my way. Go on then, get on your knees.”

Your eyebrows raised with the tilt of your head. “And what if I don’t?”

Something in the air changed in that moment; the tension became so thick between you both you couldn’t breathe without it filling your body to the brim as he grabbed the back collar of his shirt with both hands and slowly slipped it off his torso. That bare chest covered in a thin layer of light brown hair immediately drew your attention from his face.

You knew the man was thick, it was clear from the way his uniform hugged his curves, but you were not prepared for just how toned he was. His line of work obviously kept him supreme shape, each muscle scuplted as if he were carved from marble all the way down his torso in firm and tight ripples of skin until it reached that ‘V’ that led like an arrow down into his pants. God, you needed to know how big the appendage it was pointing to was.

Leaning his cloth-covered face in closer as if he were about to connect your mouths through the fabric, he stopped just shy of your lips, making your body squirm as the proximity of his own just out of reach felt was like a new form of torture. You may have gotten the jump-start on him long before now, made his body burn with your teasing, but he could tease even better when it came down to it. He’d have you bending over backwards to do as he said in no time.

Ghost exhaled quick and sharp through his nose, “When the fuck did I ask? I said on your knees, now.”

Taking a step back, you were given just enough space to move. He was impassible, like a wall made of stone, and there was nothing else for you to do other than lower yourself to the ground before his form. It was like standing at the base of a sycamore tree, gazing up the long thick trunk that seemed to go on forever.

Pointing a finger to the buckle on his belt, he growled. “Undo it.”

Fumbling a bit as you tripped over your unsteady fingers, you did as he said and with a tinkling of metal hitting metal it swung open to hang loosely from the belt loops.

His slacks hung about his waist and he grabbed your hand to shove it inside the confines of his pants, going until he placed it on cock pulsing inside his underwear. “Take it out.”

Good God, what your hand wrapped around made your eyes widen and as you moved his boxer briefs down and out of your way, you could see why. Now that it was free, his thick cock stood at full attention: the tip swollen and already beaded with precum, the veins running the length of it pulsing with his rapid heartbeat making it twitch towards you. It was huge, matching the bulk of the man before you.

Ghost pushed you back so that you were sitting on your heels as he stroked his hand along the shaft a few times just so the shock of it being touched wouldn’t send him over the edge too quickly as he put you to work. “Open your mouth, princess. Let’s give those lips something to do other than bitch.”

His free hand found the back of your head as you sat up on your knees with your mouth agape and he laced his stocky digits through your hair. With a solid push on your skull your head moved forward into him until you had no choice but to take the tip of his cock inside your lips. That beast of a man was easing you into what was to come and you knew it; no man as experienced as him was going to go easy on you for long. The moment you made contact with his cock’s head he grunted and you could feel his it throb into the roof of your mouth.

“Goddammit, babygirl,” he groaned, his grip on your hair getting stronger as he pushed you down further onto his shaft.

Fuck, that impressive girth was almost too much for your tiny orifice to take in all at once and you had to use your hand for compensation at the base or risk choking, but that did not stop you from doing your best to give him exactly what he wanted; you were consumed with the feeling as you were sure if you did a good enough job he would take care of you.

The saltiness of his precum filled the walls of your mouth as with each flick of your tongue around the head of his cock added more moisture to the inside of your lips. Tears stung your eyes as you breathed through your nose, trying your best not to gag from the sheer volume of cock being shoved into your mouth and down your throat, but you couldn’t stop.

“Look up at me,” he commanded as he caught sight of the beads of liquid slipping down the sides of your cheeks; he needed an unhindered view. “That’s it. I want those eyes on mine while I fuck that pretty mouth.”

The more you sucked, the more his hips began thrusting smoothly against your lips until he was fucking your mouth with his hand still on the back of your head to keep you from pulling away. “Ah my little whore, mouth taking cock like it’s your job. That’s all you’re good for isn’t it? Isn’t it?”

You moaned, the vibration from your vocal chords reaching his tip. He grunted as his hips bucked harder against your face, smashing his abdominals into your nose. “Such a dirt bitch, trying to talk with your mouth full.”

His thrusts into your throat became more desperate the more you sucked as that familiar warmth gathered itself in his belly, threatening to tear through him soon. You never let your gaze falter, no matter how hard he hit your gag reflex, even that teary look in your eye as you struggled to take him; all together it was not helping. He would need to cool down if he wanted to play with you more; no sense in coming yet when you had more holes for him to explore.

Putting his hands on your shoulders, he pushed you off him and pulled out of your mouth. A bit of spit and precum dribble out and down from the corner of your lips and you wiped it away with the back of your hand as he pulled you to your feet.

No one made looking a face-fucked wreck more beautiful.

Rough hands found your belt buckle and hooked it so that he could jerk you forward into him as his surprisingly nimble fingertips unclasped it and let it hand. The bottom hem of your t-shirt was still tucked neatly inside your pants and Ghost’s huge, veined hands yanked it out before he plunged up and under all the way, through the bottom of your bra as well, until he got to your breasts. That supple and warm flesh in his grasp made his whole body seize with pleasure.

Shit, you were so fucking warm and soft and pliable under his hard grip.

Ghost’s mitts cupped the bulk of your tits as his thumbs pinched the skin of your nipples against the side of his pointer fingers so that he could massage them. Your lips parted, steadily quickening breaths filled up the space between the both of you at the stimulation from his calloused palms mixed with the intensity of his gaze and it left you spiraling.

All at once your shirt was being ripped off over the top of your head before your back was slammed into the wall by the force of Ghost shoving himself into you. Even your form-fitting shirt did not prepare the Lieutenant for the glory of what was hidden underneath and with hungry eyes he flipped the bottom of his skull mask up to his nose to release his mouth quickly. Wet, feverish lips lock onto one of your breast as he leaned his head against your chest, while the other he toyed with still in his hand.

Goddammit it was even better than he imagined, the feeling of those perky tits between his lips. He was in heaven as he sucked and sucked, securing your nipple between the pad of his tongue and the roof of his mouth to get the best seal. Your hand cradled the sides of his head as he went to work, sucking and pulling as you writhed with your pussy against his thigh.

Once satisfied with his work on the first, he switched to the other; can’t leave that one out. The same amount of attention was given to that one as well, which only made your want to grind against him more overwhelming as the wetness between your legs soaked through your panties. He groaned into your chest at how much he enjoyed being smothered against those endowed assets and you nearly came from the beautiful sound alone.

Pleased with his handiwork, he released you only to move on to your neck. The way he bit and sucked, you knew he wanted to mark you and even though you’d have a fucking hell of a time hiding the hickies tomorrow, you didn’t care. Everywhere he went he sent electric shocks across your body and it was more than worth whatever trouble it would cause later.

“Take of your pants, now,” he ordered with a firm growl into the nape of your neck.

The authority in his thickly accented voice hit just right and as he backed off so you could move, you slipped your fingers into the waistband and pulled both your panties and those camo bottoms off your lower half. You were almost positive you heard your superior whimper as he caught sight of your pretty little cunt with its trimmed bit of hair just on top.

Waiting was not an option; he needed to be inside of you now. Where would he take you against? There were a few options, but as he quickly scanned the room a devilish idea struck him as perfect. With a tight grip on your arm he pulled you the few feet back over to the sinks, the large mirror perched just behind it. “Bend over right here, on your stomach,” he barked.

He didn’t wait for you to comply and pushed your upper body over so that your torso was pressed up against the cold countertop. Shoving his boot between your feet, he moved your legs apart, widening your hips and making you back arch so that he would be able to reach your entrance. The curve of your ass was accentuated by the position and he ran a heavy hand across the length of it before giving it a swift smack.

“Mmmm,” he hummed as it jiggled with the reverb from his hand.

That monstrous cock was throbbing against your backside as Ghost inclined over you back to clasp your jaw in his hand, pulling your head into place to face the mirror. “Here’s the deal, sweetheart. If you want me to let you come, then you are gonna fucking watch me fuck you silly. Your eyes move away from that mirror and I stop. You don’t want me to stop. Understand?”

“Yes,” you nodded into his palm.

His grip tightened. “Yes, what?”

You placed your gaze straight ahead. Just as much as he needed to shove all of his aching cock into you, you needed it just as bad. You had waited long enough for this: weeks and weeks of pushing him to his limit in an attempt to have him take you rough and without apology and now you were right at the brink; nothing was going to stop you now.

“Yes, sir.”

That was it, without another sound he stood back up and clenched his abdominal muscles while his strong fingers dug into the meat of your hips as he made sure he was aligned with your entrance. One strong thrust and his phallus ripped into you deep until he reached the base, bottoming out as you cried out.

Your fingertips dug into the hard surface of the countertop as you were filled out to the brim, your walls struggling to accommodate such an impressive object. Shit, you had never been this full before and it took you a minute to adjust.

“N-nh… ah…” Ghost groaned from behind and you watched him in the mirror as he staggered where he stood. “Fucking hell princess, your so tight…oh, f-fuck.”

A roll of your hips into him send shock waves of ecstasy through his pelvis and his head fell forward as he tried to calm himself enough that he didn’t blow his load right then and there just from that initial contact. All the fantasizing he did that night in the shower had nothing on this and he cursed himself for not trying to get in your pants sooner.

Getting himself under control, he began to thrust recklessly in and out of you with a force that shook made your breast sway. His fingers clawed into your flesh, leaving angry, red marks of where he had been that could would still be felt tomorrow. Those full lips twisted into a smirk as he bucked up against your hips, his testicles hitting your pulsing clit to make you twitch and your and your head fall forward.

“What the fuck did I say?” he grumbled as he removed his hand from your hip to grab a fistful of hair and wrench your head back up as he kept pace. “Eyes up.”

Your reflection stared back at the both of you, Ghost’s imposing figure with his chiseled abdominal muscles contracting and releasing with each thrust as his hips plowed you from behind. Ghost noticed how beautifully your cheeks flushed bright red as he continued to fill you up completely, each of his thrusts going completely in you down to the very base,. With the pressure of your orgasm building steadily your eyes took on a dreamy, dazed look as he hit that sensitive bundle of nerves within you time and again with a steady stream of moans that filled the air.

There was something so primal about watching himself fuck you into oblivion.

His amber eyes caught yours in the mirror and he smirked. “Fucking hell baby, you are a picture wrapped around my cock like this,” he groaned, his strokes becoming more sloppy, the slapping sounds of your overly wet cunt getting louder and louder.

The longer he went the more his sanity waned until there was not a single thought left except for the animalistic need to rut into you until he came. You could see the change wash over his face and through his eyes and it only thrilled you more as he became like a predator ready to catch his prey.

“Close,” you found yourself mewling.

One of his bulked arms secured itself around your middle as Ghost pulled you up until your back was flush against his sturdy chest, changing the angle of his thrusts inside you. He had to hold you up by your waist as you stood on the balls of your feet, but it was worth it as this new angle allowed him to reach a free hand down your abdomen to your clit where he could rub circles around that sensitive bundle.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he teased, desperately clinging to you as he too was about to spill and wanting you to go with him, “ do it then. Come for me little girl, I want you to coat my dick with your juices. Let me feel those fucking walls flutter.”

The way this beast of a man was wrapped around you, his arms laced across your body like an organic body harness that accentuated your curves as you wore him. You were completely at his mercy, his size was just so that he could do with you as he pleased and you would have no say whatsoever. And yet here was furiously pounding into you harder and harder as his fingers stroked your clit; he was doing his upmost to get you off and to be treated so well by someone who could break you was euphoric.

Reaching behind your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck to cling to the muscles in his back as your nails dug in. “Fuck… fuck…mm…mmmh…” you stuttered as that warmth in the base of your stomach was almost at its peak.

“That’s it, come on,” he coaxed, keeping his movements steady.

He pumped with everything in him and that was it; with a shudder your rocketed through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp. God, it wouldn’t stop, second after second it just kept coming just as strong. Ghost did not let up either and soon you were crying from the over-stimulation.

A few more thrusts and he was following right behind, a roar ripping through his chest as he compressed your torso with a strength that made it hard to breathe. “Goddammit, baby,” his muscles strained as he rode out his orgasm to its end as he painted your insides milky white.

“Is this what you fucking wanted, princess?” he groaned into your ear, your body twitching together as you could barely stand up anymore.

You swallowed hard. “Yes, sir,” you said quietly.

You could see him grinning from ear to ear as you peaked back into the glass. “Good girl,” he praised.

Turning your chin with a slight touch of his fingers, he met your lips with his own. Breathlessly he captured and recaptured your lips as he stayed locked inside you. He tasted like the smoke from his cigarettes, but the way his soft, full lips felt against your own made up for it entirely.

“And you know, if you decide to be good for me from now on I will keep fucking you nice and proper just like this,” he groaned against your mouth as he finally broke the kiss.

You gave him one last quick peck on his mouth. “What if I don’t?” you questioned mischievously.

“Then I’ll be sure that your fucked so thoroughly that you won’t have the energy to pull that shit for the rest of the week,” he said firmly as he released you from his grasp.

Well, that didn’t sound like a punishment at all. Perhaps you’d have to put that to the test later. Right now you had to figure how you were going to get through the rest of the day with your sanity while coated in the scent of your Lieutenant.

Tag list: @rilamon, @karagd13-blog , @crucifiedbitch, @m-carriaga2021 , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @morbidmary , @liv4thewin , @dazaiscum

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #simin ghost riley #dom!simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut

[velvetures]

Simon is def the type of boyfriend/ husband to adopt a big dog for your anniversary present (even though it's so self serving, he just wants you to have extra protection). He even puts a little bow on the pups collar when he's presenting you with the new edition to the family. (I can see him with a Belgian/ German shepherd, doberman or even a pit mix breed)

Oh my god, there is no way Simon isn't insisting his S/O doesn't have a dog once you've become an established couple.

I think the only difference I have from your HC is that he'd already have the pup trained and nearly at full size when he brings it home for the first time.

Naturally, he's got plenty of experience after having Riley for years. And spent a lot of time sneaking some of your dirty clothes out of the house to put in the dog's kennel while it's being trained. Accustomating it with your scent and connecting your smell with something that isn't used in training unless it's a drill relating your scent to an object needing protection.

Simon isn't particularly attached to the dog emotionally in the way you're going to be. But he's adamant that other than himself, you're the only other person who will know how to command the dog. It's a safety measure that you're going to be a little resistant to at first, but once he explains that it's so you're always safe -even when he's away- you understand that it's for the best. Simon wants a loyal protector for you, and he's not risking you for anything.

In addition to that, Simon really understands and employs "scary dog privilege" tactics often. Even using himself as the warden who follows you around in public and keeps too many eyes from lingering. The dog he brings home is most certainly intimidating, yet impossibly patient and gentle with you. It's designed that way though. Simon trained the pup to think of you as mom essentially, and his only role is to always protect mom.

When he brought your cane corso home, Simon had nothing but pride for the stoic and well-trained guard dog.

The only problem with this is, you're too damn loving for your own good.

Where Simon won't let the dog on the couch, you put your foot down and demand it gets to sleep at the foot of the bed where you can tuck your feet under it to keep warm. He refuses to feed it anything other than its regimental diet, where you love making lick-mats and trialing a bunch of different dog-safe foods almost like your own little cooking show. Simon refuses to pet the dog all the time, but it's almost given he's going to come home and find you curled up with the massive beast on the couch. You -dead asleep- and the guard dog looming over your curled-up form and giving a low, malicious, growl.

Until it realizes Daddy has come home.

Then the big bastard won't leave Simon alone long enough to take his boots off without getting covered in drool and enough hair to make a fur coat.

These are the kinds of pictures you send Simon, utterly destroying his own mental image of the terrifying dog charged with keeping you safe. You're quite amused when he demands you stop making the dog look so pathetic.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #simon bringing home a dog #domestic couple #squishy face cane corso #ghost is very dissapointed #anon <3