Heaven Is A Place On Earth Arthur Morgan

Heaven Is a Place on Earth ❤︎ Arthur Morgan

summary: reader gives arthur some well deserved lovin'. tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, oral sex (m!receiving), rough manhandling, smoking, praise, dom!arthur, sub!reader, cursing, crying, use of pet names ("sweetheart", "good girl", "woman"), author attempts at accents wc: 984

You peer up at him from below, observing how his sharp features become bathed in a warm, golden glow following the rhythmic flickering of his worn metal lighter. With each deliberate flick, the flame ignites, casting an ethereal radiance across his face. As he tilts his chin upward, the flickering flame illuminates the tip of his cigarette, casting a soft glow on his chiseled features. The reflection of the dancing flame dances in his mesmerizing blue-green eyes.

Your eyelashes flutter, and a long sigh escapes your lungs and through your parted lips—wet, red, and kissed raw. Your fingers curl along Arthur’s thighs, anchoring yourself to the rough texture of his jeans. Your knees start to ache against the hardwood floor, grounding you as your eyes get lost in him. He breathes in an inhale, his eyes falling shut, his brows ever so gently drawing closer as his pink lips morph into the shape of his cigarette.

As he exhales, smoke dances from his parted lips in tendrils as his form slumps back into the cushions. His hand reaches up to pet your hair, smoothing the rebellious flyaways the same hand had caused.

“Y’okay down there, missy?” he asks cautiously, yet the side of his mouth quirks into a smug grin. His fingers delicately touch the side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear before he traces the outline of your jaw to your chin, tilting it further upwards.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice catching in your throat.

“Y’sure?” his southern drawl dropping in an octave as his eyes drink in the sight of you down on your knees before him, worshiping him.

You nod languidly, hands creeping towards his thick leather belt. He lifts his hips in response as he flicks away the falling ashes.

“Good girl…”

You let out a choked-back moan; his voice envelops you like the comforting warmth of the sun on a chilly day, leaving fresh goosebumps across your skin.

Your breath becomes shaky as you unbuckle his belt and pull down his fly. You reach your hand into his pants, cupping his forming erection in your hand and squeezing gently for good measure. Arthur sighs, his large hand continuing to stroke your body, making you feel small.

“Go’head,” he encourages, albeit a tad impatient. You pull him out, his cock thick in width with veins running up and down his length. The tip is red and already oozing with pre. You whine at the sight, your thighs rubbing together as your mouth begins to water.

You gaze back up at him as his hand eases behind your neck, coaxing you forward as you part your lips, eager to take him.

He's salty and bitter to the taste. Your tongue shyly laps at his tip, gathering his leaky essence to your taste buds before you wrap your mouth around him. You close your eyes and furrow your brows in concentration.

His hips shift, his thighs spreading wider as delicious groans spill from his sinful mouth, fingers clutching your hair as you take him deeper, trying desperately to reach the base. As soon as his tip grazes the back of your throat, you gag, hands pressing against his abdomen.

“Shhh, easy there,” he consoles, watching as you pull off of him; the strings of spit lewdly break away from his cock as it jumps from your expression, your face flushed and eyes watery, and your lips dark and puffy.

“Look’atchu…” His tender voice softly cooed, and the deep, husky timbre added warmth and depth to his praise.

“Y’alright?” he grins, turning his head to puff another cloud of smoke, the tangy scent of tobacco filling your nostrils.

“Mhm,” you answer, leaning your head forward as you take him in your hands, wrapping them around his cock, suckling on the head.

“Fuck,” he grunts deeply, leaning his head back, closing his eyes as he sets the cigarette aside before curling both hands into your hair.

“Jesus, woman,” he growls, urging your face closer and closer as he lifts his hips involuntarily.

You slide your tongue up and down his sensitive skin, twisting and curling, tracing over prominent veins as you slowly make your way down. You take in a stabilizing deep breath before pushing forward, holding back a gag as he slides into your throat.

You peek your eyes open as his mouth forms into an O-like shape, his eyes screwed shut, and his thick brows pull all the way forward. His tongue spews curses and praises, causing your skin to flush deeply.

He holds you in place as he thrusts into your mouth without grace or rhythm. “Fuck, I ain't gonna last, sweetheart,” he warns, his voice tapering off into a whine.

You close your eyes, moaning around him as he uses you for his pleasure; this seems to spur him on as his cock twitches inside your throat as it contracts around him. “M’close,” he grunts, almost sounding in pain.

You brace your hands against his thighs, fighting to keep your eyes open, watching as his bliss-struck face contorts in pleasure. His grip on your hair grows painful as he holds you in place as thick ropes shoot down your esophagus, causing you to sputter, drool dripping down your lips, to your chin, and onto his lap, causing dark, wet spots to form into the seams.

Tears spill down your cheeks as you sniffle before he's easing his softening erection from your warm mouth. He can't help but grin at the sight of you: flushed, messy, and dipping.

“Aww, ain't that a pretty sight.” his eyes twinkle with mischief, dragging his knuckles across your wet cheeks.

Even after his rough manhandling, you lean into his soft touch, your chest still heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. He pulls you into his lap, his hands under your armpits as he drags you upwards. His thigh slips between yours, feeling your arousal dampen his jeans. He chuckles, dragging a heavy hand over his bearded jaw while his other paws at your hip.

“I reckon I should return the favor.”

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Burning Desire ౨ৎ Simon “Ghost” Riley & John “Soap” MacTavish

Kinktober Day II: Threesome

summary: your boyfriend returns home after deployment, bringing home his other plus one. tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, praise, a bit of degradation, anal, double penetration, ghoap, dom!simon, switch!john, sub!reader, alcohol consumption, smoking, cursing, use of pet names, author attempts at accents wc: 4.6k a/n: i’m a little late, but i didn't expect it to be this long. i had also never written a threesome before, so bare with me. sorry if it's bad i panicked.

MASTERLIST

Simon: Coming home late.

The room is shrouded in darkness, with only the soft, bluish glow of the phone's screen cutting through the obscurity. As the familiar ping echoes through the room, you let out a tired groan and shift your weight, reaching out with one arm to find your phone. Your fingers dance over the surface of your nightstand, searching for the device as you roll over onto your side.

Another ping rings out.

Simon: Johnny is staying the night.

As you shifted onto your stomach, you reached for your phone to catch up on your notifications. Despite the late hour, you were undeterred. You’ve grown accustomed to your boyfriend's unpredictable schedule and hold no resentment. Trust is the foundation of your relationship, and it goes both ways.

You: Okay. Drive safe.

You let out a long, exasperated sigh, feeling the weight of the day's stress bearing down on you. Tossing your phone somewhere onto the rumpled sheets of the bed, you rolled over, pulling the comforter snugly around you, and allowed yourself to sink back into the welcoming embrace of sleep.

The room's quiet was suddenly interrupted by the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps approaching and keys jingling. The distinct click of the front door being forcefully shut filled the air, causing your eyes to snap open in surprise.

As you lay in bed, you could hear the lively chatter of the Scotsman echoing through the walls, emanating from the kitchen. The sound traveled through the house, reaching your ears before your boyfriend intervened and reminded him to lower his voice. Despite the hushed tones that followed, you were already awake.

You let out a weary sigh as you sat in your comfortable bed. As you shifted to the side, your bare feet touched the cold, smooth surface of the wooden floor, sending a shiver up your spine. With a reach, you turned on the lamp, and the previously enveloping darkness of your room was replaced by the gentle, warm embrace of its soft yellow light, casting comforting shadows on the walls.

As you walked out, the soft light from the kitchen illuminated the distinct figure of your boyfriend, Simon. He stood tall and broad, his presence commanding the space. His friend was busy unlacing his boots, sitting on one of your kitchen chairs, while Simon leaned casually against the counter, a faint smile playing on his lips as he engaged in conversation.

You cleared your throat, making your presence known as you observed them with narrow eyes.

They halted their conversation, both turning towards you like they had been caught discussing something that wasn't meant for your ears.

“It’s four in the morning.” You said with your arms folded over your chest, your jaw clenching as you watched both gazes fall to your chest before meeting your face.

“Could you be a little quieter?” You let out a deep sigh of frustration, feeling your chest tighten as you looked down at the pristine white tiles of your kitchen floor, now marred by the unmistakable pattern of dirt and grime left behind by a pair of rugged combat boots. The once immaculate surface now bore the imprint of someone's rugged footsteps, starkly contrasting the pristine environment you had meticulously maintained.

“Seriously, Simon? How many times have I told you–”

“I did miss you, sweetheart.” As your boyfriend approached you, a wistful sigh escaped his lips, indicating a mixture of longing and resignation. His steps were deliberate, almost as if he were lost in thought, paying no attention to the words you had spoken moments earlier.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” As he loomed above you, you couldn't help but feel a mix of apprehension and anticipation. You felt his presence as he leaned in, his hands finding their place on your hips and applying gentle pressure. His face drew closer to yours, and you turned your cheek to him, feeling the warmth of his lips as they made contact with your skin

“I'll clean up the mess, love,” he grumbled, dissatisfied with your reluctance of his affection.

“Good.” You let out a frustrated huff, feeling the weight of your annoyance as you turned to look up at him. As your eyes met him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of softening in your demeanor. The tension and frustration building inside your chest seemed to dwindle as you gazed up at him slowly.

"I missed you too," you replied softly, your heart racing as you met his intense gaze. His lips curled into a satisfied grin, revealing a hint of dimples before they slowly pressed against yours, sending a rush of warmth through your body. His hand gently held the back of your head, pulling you closer, trapping you against him in a tender yet passionate embrace.

As you pulled away, you couldn't help but look over Simon’s shoulder to the man sitting at your table with a sly grin, his pale eyes twinkling in humor.

You’ve met John before on many different occasions, some similar to nights like these when they stumbled into your home, sometimes drunk and chattering like a couple of girls over steaming gossip.

You’ve come to terms with the fact that they're a package deal. John, who Simon affectionately calls “Johnny,” is always one step behind him, yapping on and on about something or other. Those two are so different, but they make it work like the sun and the moon.

John had a charismatic way of flirting that seemed to charm everyone around him, including you. Despite Simon's usual protectiveness, he appeared to make an exception for John, allowing him to get closer to you than anyone else. However, it wasn't just you that John interacted with suggestively. There were moments when you noticed the way John looked at Simon, and it seemed to go beyond just friendly admiration. At times, you dismissed it, attributing it to John's flirtatious nature, but there were hints of something more beneath the surface.

“Hi John,” you greeted almost bashfully, embarrassed to be standing in front of him in your night clothes.

With a warm smile spreading across his face, John greeted you in a deep, smooth Scottish accent, "Hey, darlin'. Didnae mean to wake ye up. Hope we were nae too loud, eh?" He flashed a teasing grin towards Simon before turning his attention back to you, eyes scanning your body with a flicker of appreciation. He stood up, revealing his impressive frame adorned in a loose, sleeveless shirt and shorts, showcasing his tattooed arms.

“Well… I’m up now.” You answered, making your way into the kitchen and opening up a bottle of wine to pour yourself a glass before returning to sleep. “Might as well hang out for a little while.” You missed the shared glance between the other two as you brought the rim to your lips.

Chuckling lightly at your comment, John sauntered to the kitchen counter, leaning against it effortlessly. His eyes followed your movements intently, admiring the curves of your figure hidden beneath the loose fabric. As you sipped your wine, he couldn’t help but appreciate your beauty in the dim lighting.

You watched as Simon disappeared into your room, likely changing into something more comfortable as he got ready for bed. You didn't think much of it.

Your attention was redirected as John approached you, casually reaching for the wine bottle, pouring himself a generous glass, and raising it in a toast. "To us, eh?" He clinked his glass gently against yours, maintaining eye contact. "Simon's a lucky bloke to have ye," he said sincerely before siping. John traced his fingers along the rim of the glass, enjoying the sensation of the cool glass against his skin as he waited for your reaction. His free hand rested on the counter, only inches away from yours.

You felt your heart race as you glanced downward, acutely aware of his proximity before locking eyes with him. His piercing, icy blue eyes sent shivers down your spine and ignited warmth. "Thank you," you whispered, moistening your lips with the tip of your tongue, your voice barely above a breath.

You watched his eyes flicker downwards before meeting your eyes again, a knowing grin on his face. He reached up, rubbing his jaw as he looked down at you. You conversed for a few minutes, the tension in the air increasing as your body grew warmer with anticipation. You couldn't care less about the questions he was asking you, only entranced by the softness of his gaze and the sultry allure of his voice.

The room fell silent as Simon reentered, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of you with a hint of knowing amusement. Despite the subtle flicker of emotion in his eyes, his expression remained stoic and unreadable, revealing nothing of his thoughts or intentions.

John raised his glass in a silent salute, acknowledging his presence without breaking eye contact with you. He took another slow sip of the wine, savoring the rich flavor while keeping his hand close to yours. Turning towards Simon, he asked, "What do ye say, mate? Another drink before we all turn in?" His voice was playful and suggestive.

The silence hung heavy in the air, but John never faltered, his easygoing demeanor masking the anticipation that surged beneath the surface. He set his glass down next to yours, his calloused hand brushing gently against your arm. With a sly grin, he continued, "Unless there's something else ye'd rather be doing?"

“I…" you whispered, your voice fading into the tense air as the two men fixed their gaze on you. You observed Simon approaching with confident strides, a hand resting lightly on John's back. He casually took the drink from John's hand, raising it to his lips, and savored the taste of the crimson liquid before running his tongue over his lips.

You watched as he handed the glass back to John, his hand sliding down his back before he made his way in front of you. His hands found your waist, his thumb idly drawing circles into your shirt before he hoisted you into the air and onto the countertop. You let out a yelp of surprise, lifting your cup into the air to prevent a spill.

“Simon! You–” he cut you off once more, taking the drink from your hand and setting it down beside you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I could've spilled that…” you murmured, his dark gaze silencing your protests.

Simon chose to ignore you as his hands drifted up and down your body, feeling you up before his hands descended to your thighs, parting them firmly yet gently.

“Wait… uhh…” you stammered, your voice coming out in a weak and shaky breath, anxiety bubbling in your stomach, knowing his best friend was watching.

John watched with hooded eyes as he moved in, enjoying your reaction to Simon’s assertiveness. His heart rate increased as the situation unfolded. Setting his glass down, John took a step closer, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your calf, eliciting a soft gasp from you.

His gaze shifted between you and Simon, drinking in your connection before finally focusing on your face. "It's okay, lass," he reassured you with a low whisper, his accent thick with desire. "We'll take care of ye." He let his hand trail up your leg, the touch gentle but possessive, as if claiming you for the night.

As you seemingly got lost in John’s gaze, you felt Simon’s hand cup your chin, redirecting your attention towards him as he leaned forward, catching your lips in another kiss, yet longer and more passionate, before his mouth descended towards your neck. Instinctively, you arched into him, your hands reaching up to entangle themselves in his hair, letting out soft gasps and airy whines.

With a lustful glint in his pale blue eyes, John followed suit. His rough fingers slowly worked their way under your shirt, exploring the soft skin of your lower back. He leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear. "Feels good, eh?" he asked, the question barely audible yet loaded with anticipation.

You nodded your head, gasping as you felt Simon’s finger dip between your thighs, fingers diligently pressing against your clothed clit, feeling the dampness of your panties from your arousal.

John’s hands continued their exploration of your body, moving to caress the swell of your breast. In sync with Simon's rhythm, Soap pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, the contrast of his stubble against your smooth skin sending shivers down your spine.

Time passed slowly as both men continued groping your body, Simon’s fingers parting your panties to the side, sliding his fingers up and down your pussy, coating them in your juices before pressing them inside. You let out a shaky moan as John continued kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Simon's fingers slid in with barely any resistance despite being away for some time. “Simon…” you called his name, one hand clutching his bicep.

“I know, love,” he said, his voice guttural and thick with desire as his heavy gaze adorned you. It started off slow until his thick digits were twisting and curling inside you, pumping in and out in preparation for what was to come.

You could feel John’s breathing growing shallow and labored against your skin. He trailed his free hand down to the front of his pants, subtly adjusting himself; you couldn't help but think how uncomfortable it must feel. With a smoldering look, he whispered your name into your ear, “ye've got us both ready fer ye. Where would ye like us, lass?"

You suddenly remembered that you were still in your kitchen as Simon began to remove your shirt, exposing your breasts to the cold air and causing your nipples to perk in response. As Simon’s eyes darkened, his hand reached up to cup your breast, squeezing with an appreciative groan. “Aye’ve missed these two,” he said bluntly.

“Wait,” you stammered, breath shaky and uneven with excitement and anticipation. “We should… go to the bedroom.”

You yelped as Simon lifted you, tossing your body over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. Your eyes met John’s before he shot you a wink as he followed close behind, shedding his shirt from his back revealing his muscular torso. Your eyes roamed the hairy expanse of John’s body. His stocky build was lined with scars and tattoos decorating across his skin.

Once you reached the dimly lit space, Simon gently lowered you onto the soft bed. He swiftly removed your shorts along with your underwear, revealing your arousal to their hungry gazes.

John reached forward, running a calloused thumb along your inner thigh, spreading your legs further apart, exposing your slick folds. “Ye’re absolutely breathtaking,” he said, his voice thick with lust.

“Thank you,” you replied breathlessly as Simon’s large hand traveled down your body.

John leaned in, letting his fingers trace over your thighs, savoring the softness of your skin. He moved his thumb teasingly over your clit, watching as your hips bucked slightly at the contact. His eyes locked onto yours, drinking in your reactions as Simon’s mouth closed around one of your nipples, eliciting another moan from you.

"Got a pretty voice, Bonnie," he murmured, increasing the pressure and speed of his ministrations. His other hand snaked its way behind your knee, encouraging you to spread your legs wider for him before he dipped his head between your legs, replacing his thumb with his tongue, lapping up the sweetness you offered. He groaned appreciatively, losing himself in your taste and texture. His fingers slid inside, curling and thrusting in tandem with his tongue, determined to bring you to the edge.

“She does,” Simon agreed, removing his shirt and unbuckling his belt as he shook off his pants. You watched in awe as his fist curled into John’s hair, shoving his face deeper, causing his nose to press into your clit, as you keened in response, your fingers entangled into the sheets beside you.

His fingers continued to explore you, finding that perfect spot that made you squirm and moan louder. As your body tensed, signaling your impending climax, John picked up the pace, his tongue swirling and flicking relentlessly. He continued to pleasure you, savoring each moan and twitch of your muscles. With each stroke of his tongue, you felt yourself growing closer and closer to orgasm.

“That's it, love," he encouraged, "Let it all go.” His arousal was evident, his trousers straining against his erection. Finally, with a loud cry, you came apart in his mouth, your hips bucking wildly. John held steady, drinking in every drop of your release, his fingers still inside you, gently massaging your G-spot as your orgasm subsided. He pulled away, a satisfied look on his face, only to find Simon watching him intently, his gaze filled with lust.

John licked his lips clean before moving up to kiss you deeply, sharing the taste of your pleasure between the two of you. After breaking the kiss, John’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he glanced at Simon. "Care to join in properly now, mate?" he asked, gesturing towards your still-quivering body.

He ran his hand up your torso, cupping one of your breasts tenderly, while his other hand reached down to stroke Simon’s hard length, showing that he was just as eager to pleasure him as he was to pleasure you. Your thighs threatened to squeeze as you watched, your gaze dancing between them both before Simon leaned forward, hand still curled in John’s hair, before tilting his head back and capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss.

Their tongues tangled together hungrily, hands roaming over each other's bodies as if trying to memorize every curve and contour. Breaking the kiss, John shifted his focus to Simon, taking his hard length in hand and beginning to stroke firmly. He looked up at Simon through his lashes, his gaze filled with heat.

With an encouraging nod from Simon, John leaned forward, pressing his lips around the head of his cock, teasing him with slow, deliberate licks before taking him fully into his mouth, making sure to maintain eye contact while pleasuring him. You gasped in shock as you watched, moaning at the sight of another man pleasing Simon in the same way you did. Have they done this before?

John grinned around his cock as he increased the pace of his strokes, his other hand fondling Simon’s balls with just the right amount of pressure. You loved the way Simon’s muscles flexed beneath his touch, the sounds of pleasure he made, and the pre-cum that coated John’s lips.

With a growl, Simon grabbed Soap’s head, pushing him down further, and Soap eagerly obliged, his arousal mounting with each thrust—the room filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin.

Feeling left out, you reached out towards Simon, grabbing his arm closest to you as leverage to lift yourself onto the ground. You rested your hand on his cheek, turning his face towards you as you leaned in to kiss him.

Simon chuckled deeply, struggling to return your kiss as he moaned against your lips. “Please,” you begged, your body squirming in desperation.

You looked down to see John releasing Simon’s cock with a wet pop as he grinned up at the both of you, a devilish gleam in his eyes. His gaze shifted between your hungry expression and Simon’s lust-filled face.

Breaking away from Simon’s embrace, John stood behind you, trapping you between them as he encircled your waist with his powerful arms and pulled you back against him. His erect manhood pressed firmly against your lower back as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Ye can have whatever ye want tonight, lass,” John promised, nibbling lightly on your lobe. His hands roamed over your curves, sliding up your torso until he cupped your breasts, gently kneading them.

You moaned, your hands resting against Simon’s chest before he took your wrists into his hands, backing you both up until you felt John’s hands pulling you down onto his lap. He shifted backward and urged you along until Simon’s knees caused the bed to dip low.

You shivered as John’s hands glided down your sides, appreciating your softness and warmth with an appreciative hum. “God, ye’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his Scottish brogue thick with desire. He leaned back onto his elbows, supporting your weight with ease. As you settled on his lap, John shifted slightly, allowing his hardened length to slide between your legs. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, and you could feel his hips bucking up into you, teasing your entrance.

You watched Simon closely, his eyes never leaving your joined bodies. “Fuckin’ Christ,” he groaned deeply, his eyes raking over your body. With a knowing smile, John leaned forward, capturing your lips once more as he slipped his hands between your legs, his fingers dancing along your inner thighs.

Simon leaned forward, yanking your face from John’s before sliding his tongue against yours, pressing his body against you before he abruptly pulled away, twisting your body around with your chest against John’s. Your breathing picked up as your eyes met his, your fingers sinking into the skin of his hairy chest. He chuckled at your expression, his large, warm, calloused hands dragging down your back before cupping your ass and squeezing.

You gasped as you heard the signature pop of a bottle opening before feeling the cool liquid slide against your puckered hole. You've done this before with Simon, but knowing you're going to be filled in two places at once has you shuddering violently.

“Hold still,” Simon’s voice cuts through the air as he holds you by your hips, halting your squirming. You whine, burying your face into John’s neck as you feel two thick digits push inside of you. You've never gotten used to the stretch, even as his fingers spread wider into a scissoring motion, pumping into you like he did before.

You hear John chuckle from above you, his hand petting your head gently as he bucks against you, continuing to catch against your hole before pulling back.

“Ready, lass?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. He gripped your hips firmly, guiding you down onto his eager cock, his muscles flexing underneath you.

You held your breath as you slowly lowered yourself onto his erection, your wet heat clenching around him in a tight embrace. He let out a deep growl of pleasure as he filled you.

John wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you adjusted to the fullness inside you. His fingers trailed up your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake before he gripped your shoulders firmly. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Just hold on, pretty,” John whispered, his voice husky with desire. He felt your body momentarily stiffen before you began to move, your hips rolling against him in a rhythm that made him groan. He reached up, gently tugging his fingers in your hair as he guided your head towards his. Your lips met in a searing kiss, your tongues dancing together as John moved his hips in tandem with your movements, driving himself deeper inside you.

Simon pulled his fingers out as he situated himself behind you, “Easy, love,” he reassured, sensing your tension as Simon prepared to enter you from behind, placing his hands on top of your ass before spreading them wide and spitting on his cock for good measure. He took himself in his hand, slapping the tip against your entrance before sliding inside, letting out a deep grunt as he slowly thrust forward, filling your ass inch by inch. As Simon pushed in, John focused on maintaining his rhythm. His hands roamed your body, leaving trails of fire wherever they touched.

You clutched John for dear life as Simon’s hand curled into your hair, pushing you forward as leverage to sheath himself fully inside you. You reached backward, holding the hand firmly on your head, your nails digging into his skin. “Thas’ it, sweetheart. You can take it.” Simon groaned, his gentle thrusts quickly turning rough.

“Fuck, ye’re so tight,” John whispered, his voice husky with desire. His eyes never left yours, watching the pleasure dance across your features, your breasts bouncing with every thrust. He reached up, tracing your jawline with his thumb before tilting your head back, exposing your neck for him to taste. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, eliciting a moan that punched from your chest.

“Ye like this, don’t ye?” he asked, his accent rolling over the words. He felt your body tighten around him, your breaths coming in ragged pants.

You nodded swiftly, words unable to form on your tongue as wanton moans spilled from your lips uncontrollably. You’ve never felt so full in your whole life.

You feel John’s grin against your neck as your body adjusts and accepts them. He pressed his lips to your skin, suckling gently, his hand finding its way to your breast, kneading it softly as Simon’s hips continued their relentless rhythm.

“That’s rieht, love,” he murmured, “Just let go.” You could feel your orgasm building, your inner walls contracting around them, your moans growing louder. He slid his other hand between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it in circles, teasing you. “Cum fur us,” he urged, his voice strained with restraint. You felt Simon’s grip tighten on your hip, his pace quickening, the headboard hitting the wall in a steady beat.

John’s movements were confident and practiced, each stroke sending electric sparks coursing through your body. Your moans grew louder, your breathing more erratic, as you neared your precipice. His thumb circled your clit faster, applying more pressure, his fingers dipping lower to gather your slickness. You felt Simon’s thrusts grow deeper, more urgent, and knew they were both close. John leaned forward, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss as your orgasm began to build, your body tensing above him before you let out a silent scream as your release overtook you.

John let out a deep growl as he joined Simon in their mutual release, filling you. The sensation of their combined pleasure washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you spent and satiated. As they came down from the high, he kept his lips locked with yours, savoring the intimate connection. You felt Simon’s weight shift as he pulled out of you, allowing John to move closer, cradling you between them.

Your heavy breaths mingled in the quiet room, the only sounds being the distant thunderstorm outside and your racing hearts. Pulling away from the kiss, John pressed his forehead against yours, sweat glistening on his brow.

“Fuck that wos gud,” he breathed, his voice still husky with lust. He gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you heard Simon retreat into your bathroom. The signature sound of a faucet running echoed in your ears.

You were spent, slumping against John’s body as the heaviness in your eyelids soon overtook you. You whine at the sensation of Simon cleaning you up. The rough and wet texture of the hand towel against your sensitive bits had you leaning away.

“I know, I know,” Simon grunted, stilling your hips as he cleaned you. Once he finished, John repositioned you on the bed, pulling the covers over your spent body before kissing your cheek.

“Git sum sleep, hen.” he chuckled, his arm wrapped around your middle. Simon settled in next to you, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pant pockets, resting one between his teeth.

As the faint, lingering scent of cigarette smoke wafted through the air, you felt the warmth of a pair of hands gently tracing intricate patterns across your skin. The soft, rhythmic motion of the hands, combined with the soothing aroma, created a tranquil ambiance that gradually lulled you into a state of peaceful slumber.

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A Kiss Left of You ♡ Simon "Ghost" Riley

summary: simon and you, introduced by mutual friends in the military, enjoy a heartfelt moment outside a bar. you engage in playful banter, and despite knowing you will soon part ways, you express genuine affection for each other. tags/trigger warnings: f!reader, sfw, reader is not from the uk, author attempts at accents, jealous!simon, doomed romance (maybe), drugs and alcohol consumption, soap makes an appearance, simon is bad at feelings, fluff, angst, bittersweet ending, ambiguous ending, self-indulgent, hints at reader being autistic wc: 3.7k

a/n: this is a very old wip. i may or may not make this into a series. anyway, this is just a short collection of drabbles between simon and you. any constructive criticism is highly encouraged. enjoy!

pt. 1 ･ pt. 2 ･ pt.3

Breathing deeply, Simon admires the evening scenery as the last rays of the Sun disappear beyond the horizon. Hues of orange once highlighted it, but now it has turned into a deep shade of blue. Exhaling, a puff of smoke escapes his lips as he taps the lingering ashes along the railing. He stands just outside a dingy bar, its label, "Velvet Verve," gleaming brightly, casting Simon underneath its neon purple glow.

The cool night air chills Simon's lungs as he pulls deeply on his cigarette. His dark brown eyes follow the specks of snowfall as they dance through the air. As the soft flakes of snow drift by, Simon remains still and unbothered; he can appreciate a good view, and the evening air offers him that chance. Taking deep breaths, he savors the wind's chill against his skin and the scent of the air, which has started to take on a crisp note.

It's fucking freezing. You think to yourself as you step outside, feeling tipsy as you shiver against the wind's icy gust. There are specks of snow twirling downwards just in front of you, teasing you and your distaste for the weather.

Looking to your left, you spot Simon leaning against the railing as he blows out puffs of gray smoke. His signature skull balaclava is pushed past his lips, resting on his crooked nose. He seems lost in thought, yet he somehow always remains alert.

The man was large, much larger than you by far. He was slightly shy from 6'3 with an even more impressive frame. His right forearm consisted of a sleeve of tattoos in swirling black ink. His voice was deep and smoky, yet he rarely raised his voice (or let alone speak). He didn't come off as shy; he just seemed to prefer his company to others—which you could relate to. He was very aloof and a bit socially unskilled in his blunt and impolite nature, but underneath it all, you could tell he was a good man. He has this element to him that no one seemed to be able to cross, like how he was now: secluded and lost in his mind. You wondered what he could be thinking of.

A familiar scent of perfume catches his attention, and upon realizing it's you, Simon flicks his cigarette over the railing and turns his attention to you. The slight smile on his features turns into a more visible grin when he notices your intoxicated state. Simon watches you shiver as chills make their way through your body, your breath forming in front of you as you glance up at him. With a slight smirk playing on his lips, he watches you momentarily before finally speaking up. "Aren't ya’ supposed t'be drinkin' inside, or did they cut ya’ off?"

Giggling, you made your way over to where he was standing, the heels of your boots clicking against the hard wooden tile. You could feel the effects of the alcohol warm your belly, leaving your brain fuzzy. Keeping a respectful distance, you stand before him, assessing him thoughtfully.

Simon was very different from many of the men you'd met, yet so stereotypical at the same time. He was mysterious, an intangible force of nature that had always piqued your curiosity. However, you never let yourself wander too close. Unlike many others, you weren't scared of the man. He was intimidating, sure, but never had you felt genuine fear in his presence. Maybe if you were one of his soldiers, or god forbid one of his enemies, you'd think differently. And yet, Simon never gave you any reason to fear him; if anything, it was safe to say you felt very protected under his watch.

You’d met under curious circumstances. Kyle Garrick, a buddy of yours, was stationed in northeast Britain while you were vacationing. After you had met at a bar to reminisce about your past, he introduced you to many of his army buddies. One of them was his Lieutenant, Simon Riley, who most of them referred to as "Ghost." He's always been some enigma, ever since the start. He always sported his typical skull balaclava, which you had yet to see him without, and only pulled up past his nose to take a swig of bourbon or smoke a cigarette.

"Just needed some air." You smiled, watching as your breath formed into wisps of condensation in the crisp, navy-blue sky.

Simon's lips curl into a smirk at the sound of your voice. "Careful there." He gently warns as you stumble, his voice still deep but with a hint of amusement. He reaches forward to steady you, only to stop just before he touches you. His eyes meet yours, and Simon feels the intensity of the moment.

"Thank you." You mumble, gazing up into his brown eyes, the top of his face hidden behind his mask.

"Aren't you cold?" You asks curiously, dipping your head to the side with a grin. Your voice had a hint of teasing mixed in with genuine concern.

Simon remains quiet for a moment before finally responding. "M’ fine." He answers coolly, turning his gaze back out into the evening sky. He leans over, the cool winter breeze brushing past his skin. His expression is genuine as he offers a gentle smile. "But you," he glances back over your shoulder at the bar, "maybe we ‘oughta get ya’ back inside."

"But it's so loud in there," you whine, leaning against the wood. "Need a minute."

The corner of Simon's lips curls up in a half-grin as he watches you. "I di'n't know ya’ can't handle yer alcohol." He murmurs, teasing once again.

"I can!" You protest with a giggle. "I'm just a bit tipsy."

"Jus’ a bit?" Simon echoes, chuckling softly to himself.

"Mmm…” you hum, half-acknowledging him. You close your eyes, embracing the moment as the cold nips at your nose. Out in the distance, a lamp post flickers off and on again, its warm yellow light blinking in contrast to the melancholic blue-and-white atmosphere.

Simon shakes his head internally, wondering when he allowed himself to babysit whining drunk girls stumbling out of bars.

He watches you for a long moment as your eyes flutter closed, and you lean forward further. His face takes on a slight hint of concern for a second before he returns to his usual expressionless state. His eyes follow the lamp pole, his thoughts drifting off somewhere far from here. The world seemed to come to a standstill as he watched a million different scenarios in his head. His mind wandered between thoughts of the both of you perched like two birds in the frigid air and going your separate ways like strangers passing each other in the night.

A sudden gust of wind sends the snow swirling around the two of you again, and Simon turns towards you. His eyes take in your appearance, noticing how the cold seems to dig its icy, unforgiving claws into you. He takes in every detail, from the slope of your nose to the slight quiver in your bottom lip. He takes note of the way you huddle yourself inside your coat.

"S'bit nippy, innit’?” He asks, his voice low and warm, a welcomed ironicity. He keeps his eyes on the drifting snowfall, allowing you to meet his gaze at your own pace.

"Haven't gotten used to it yet." You admit sheepishly, grinning up at him as you burrow yourself further into the warmth of your furry coat.

Simon can't help but raise an eyebrow at this. "I take it, it's warm where yer from?" He asks in a puzzled tone, and though he's trying to keep his voice neutral, his curiosity gets the better of him.

You nod animatedly, a small smile hidden underneath the jacket.

A small laugh escapes Simon as his mouth curves into a small smile. His tongue traces along the top row of his front teeth as he watches the small grin form beneath the fur of your coat. A silent moment passes between you before he finally speaks.

“Mus’ be nice.” He murmurs, his voice still maintaining an even tone despite his body language giving way to a more keen and interested one.

You shrug your shoulders with a heave, followed by a long sigh. "Until it was summer," you mumble dramatically. "unbearable."

"So, it's either too 'ot or too cold wit’ ya’.” He observes softly, and something about the fact that he's paying so much attention to this seemingly dull conversation baffles him.

You grin, opening your eyes to gaze up at him, eyes wide and glowing. "Pretty much," you murmur, your smile toothy.

The corners of his lips curl up into a smirk as his eyes follow your mouth for a moment before shifting back to your eyes again. The grin spreads across his face, almost like a blush, as he stares back at you. His expression lightens further as your eyes meet, and it is as if he feels something stir deep inside him when he looks at you.

You breathe a short laugh through your nose, taking in his expression. "I should probably get going soon.", you acknowledge, closing your heavy eyes for a moment longer than necessary.

"Aye, prob'ly." He murmurs, still grinning. Simon's thoughts return to a thousand scenarios as his eyes travel around you momentarily. There's no doubt that he feels something soft make its way inside him, something he hasn't felt in a while. He shifts his weight, his body leaning against the wooden railing as he turns his head toward the bar again, letting out a slow breath.

"Think you could give me a ride?" you ask, leaning into his personal space.

His expression shifts quickly, his heart racing at your playful suggestion. He clears his throat before glancing back at you, his face momentarily caught off guard by your closeness. His eyes meet yours, and he can't help but feel a tingling sensation throughout his body. It's almost as if his body is slowly reacting to yours, the chemistry of a connection.

"Aye, dun't see why not,” he murmurs, his tone shifting slightly more severe with his agreement.

"Thanks! You're the best." You shoot him a playful wink before turning back to look out towards the flickering lamppost, yet refuse to put the space back between you.

"Hmph..." Simon's voice comes out with a tinge of a teasing hilt, and he feels just the right amount of comfort with this closeness between you. Another gust of wind rushes by, sending snowflakes into the air again; he watches as they make a home on your head and shoulders.

"Come on, yer gonna freeze out here." He murmurs, not wanting to let you linger in the frigid cold much longer. He finally shifts his weight off the rail and paces towards the parking lot.

Reluctantly, you push yourself away from the rail to follow closely behind him. "I think I'm starting to get used to it now." You chirp from behind him, not even attempting to keep up.

“Us'd to what?” He forgets about your pointless conversation as he turns back, watching you and laughing softly at the image of your shorter legs struggling to keep up with his long strides.

“The cold,” you answer, humming to yourself. Your eyes stay closed as you stuff your hands into your coat pockets.

The parking lot is a short distance away, and Simon's steps slow as you approach his truck. He opens up the passenger side door for you, waving you over.

You giggle, strolling towards him with an attempt at grace. "Thank you, Lieutenant." you grin, saluting him with the wrong hand before clambering inside.

He shuts the door with an unimpressed shake of his head.

“You smoke?” Ghost asks, offering you the cigarette between his fingers.

“Not those cancer sticks.” You turn your nose up in disgust, not caring if you offended him. To your surprise, he shrugs before placing it between his lips.

He smirked as the cigarette hung from his mouth, not seeming to mind your aversion towards them. You’ve always been straightforward, preferring to precisely say what you’re feeling or thinking rather than hiding it behind politeness or social conventions. He knows that your tendency to be so direct can sometimes rub people the wrong way. But this is just one of the many things he finds refreshing about you. He leans back against the wall with a sigh and slightly glances at you before saying, “Does it botha’ y’ then?” He mumbles in between a drag.

You take a moment to consider his words before shaking your head. "No, not really. You're a grown man; you can do whatever you want." You shrug, appreciating how he turns his head away from you to blow the smoke from his nose.

"Mmhm..." he mutters, nodding in understanding but looking you over when you aren’t paying attention to him. Your relaxed attitude appeals to him, and he grows more comfortable around you.

He watches, his eyes drifting up and down your body as he takes in your appearance, his gaze landing on your exposed neck. It's a rather tempting sight, as the smooth skin of your throat is only made more attractive by how you lean forward while talking. He watches you intently as you form words with your mouth; your accent, which he used to find unusual, now strikes a chord within him—a voice he can only describe as heavenly.

"Ghost?" You ask, turning to look up at him. Confusion is written on your face when he stays silent after you ask him a question.

He snaps out of his reverie, his body twitching as he realizes you’re now looking at him. A slight smirk flashes across his face as he sees the perplexed expression on your face, as he had been so caught up in his admiration of you that Simon hadn't even realized he was supposed to be paying attention. "Sorry, luv," he says softly, his voice slightly teasing as he maintains his gaze on you. "Wot were ya’ sayin’?"

“Here, try some o' this.” Commands John, otherwise known as “Soap,” as he slides you a glass of tequila. For the past fifteen minutes, it seemed to consist of Kyle’s task force forcing you to try their taste in alcoholic beverages. A vodka-lime wasn’t impressive according to their standards.

“Why do I have to try out every single one of your stupid ‘manly’ drinks?” You grumbled, already feeling the effects of the alcohol as you took a quick sip of his drink.

“Is tha' tequila?” Ghost scoffs as he appears in your peripheral vision, causing you to cough and sputter in surprise.

“Why do you always do that?” You complain, wiping away the stray droplets from your lips as John laughs at your misfortune.

Ghost’s eyes widen in what either looks to be humor or surprise—probably both.

“Gettin’ the lass tae expand her horizons,” John explains after collecting himself.

“You sound like an alcoholic,” you mumble, your face warm in embarrassment.

“Why tequila?” Ghost interrupts, still seemingly confused by John’s choice of beverage.

“Whae naht?” The scot shrugs, taking a sip of his drink with raised eyebrows. You glance back and forth between the two men, trying to decipher their unspoken conversation.

“Ya,’ tryna kill her, mate?” Ghost snorts in sarcasm, sitting beside you, his knee brushing against yours as he makes himself comfortable. He doesn’t even glance in your direction, but John’s eyes flicker back and forth between you two knowingly. You hide your shame behind another long sip.

“Are you?” You mutter, staring out the window as silence fills the air.

“Wot?”

John’s laugh rings loud as your face sets up in a blaze.

“Do you like it?” You inquire with anticipation, watching him take a bite of the cultural dish you had made for him to try. You asked him to stop by your temporary place so you could cook him something other than British cuisine. He seemed a bit irked but agreed nonetheless.

“S’ alright.” He mumbles after swallowing, refusing to meet your eyes as he takes another bite.

“You like it, c’mon.” You giggle, poking his bicep, which he swats away, simultaneously shooting you an annoyed glare.

“I said it’s alright.” He reaffirms, chewing slowly. “S’ a bit spicy.” He comments in a neutral tone, but you assume it was supposed to be his form of constructional criticism.

“Yeah, well, everything is spicy to you people.”

He rolls his eyes with an irritated sigh.

“You could’ve just said ‘thank you.’” You sass, hands on your hips.

“I’d 'ave t'be thankful for it first.”

You swat him in the arm this time. He chuckles in response.

Simon grunts as he slams his fist into the black fabric of the boxing bag. The thick material of his gloves protects his fists, but he can almost picture the bruises and cuts decorating his knuckles as he bashes the face in of that smug-looking private.

Simon had nothing against the man—personally speaking anyway—yet he still couldn’t get over how he looked at you. How he danced with you, twirling you around like some bloke, tripping over his feet and his words to impress you.

And you just smiled and laughed, batting your pretty eyes up at him with a sweet smile—the same way you do with Simon.

Simon furrows his eyebrows, pulling his face into a deep frown. He clenches his fists a little tighter as the images of the man dancing with you and making a fool of himself flash through his mind. Simon can also clearly see how you responded to his advances in those images: your saccharine smiles and bashful glances, your symphony of laughs that could bring a choir of angels to shame. He grits his teeth and raises his fist to strike the bag again; his jealousy is getting the better of him.

The more he seethes, the more those memories twist into something else entirely. He can't help but imagine the way the man must have touched you, maybe even kissing you or pulling you into his arms—holding you close. The thought of that makes him even more furious, as he's now thinking about him putting his hands on you in a way that only he is supposed to—or would if only he just asked.

“What’s gotten into you lately?” You inquire, tilting your head to the side as you sit across from Simon in a booth, enjoying the meal he had gotten for you both.

He stops eating for a moment, his busy thoughts halting a little as he hears your voice hit his ears, concerned with a hint of indignation. He hesitates for a second before answering you, not wanting to admit that he's felt a little insecure about his relationship with you. "Nothin’," he gruffs softly, forcing disinterest as he looks at you. "Why?”

You run your tongue over your front teeth as you assess him before looking past his shoulder in thought.

"Is it because I have to leave soon?" You ask softly, deciding to poke at your food with your fork to remain casual.

The mention of your departure only makes his frustration grow even worse, as the thought of you not being here with him brings forth an uncomfortable hollow feeling deep in his chest. "No," he mutters softly, but his response carries a hint of irritation because he believes you have seen through him too quickly. "I jus’...'ave some things on my mind."

He stares at you silently for a moment before looking away and grunting. He can't help but feel slightly guilty for not wanting to be honest with you. Especially when he knows you’ve always been upfront with him, and now he's keeping secrets from you even though there's no real reason for him to. The guilt compels him to consider admitting a little more, but he realizes that doing so would mean ripping back the layers he’s built up around himself for so long. So instead, he says, "It's nowt important."

"Then stop acting so weird."

You sigh, swallowing your frustration. "If you ever need someone to talk to, you can always talk to me." You promise with an empathetic smile.

He sighs and looks away again, feeling even more shameful now that he has to look into your pitful expression after lying straight to it. Simon has been so busy hiding his insecurities that he's lost track of how he’s been treating you, and now Simon realizes that he needs to open up, or else you’ll probably start feeling as if he's abandoning you. "Yeah..." he mutters, shaking his head slightly in disappointment with himself. "I know, m'sorry...I'll be fine."

You soak in the awkward, silent tension for a few more moments, trying to make peace with it.

"Y'know..." you begin tapping his leg under the table with your foot to get his attention. "I'm gonna miss you too." You confess with a bittersweet smile.

His expression softens just a bit, his gaze shifts to make eye contact with you for the first time in a while, and upon seeing your sweet and somewhat sad smile, his discomfort shifts towards a bittersweet tenderness rather than the frustration and resentment he felt before.

"Y'will?" he asks softly, a small smile forming on his lips as he looks away almost immediately, his heart now fluttering at the thought of someone as kind and gentle as you, missing someone as cruel and fucked up as him.

“Of course,” you all but whisper, your eyelids lowering as you admire him with a strange fondness. “But I’m glad—I’m happy I got to meet you, to miss you.” You smile, abandoning your attention on everything else and redirecting it towards him.

“I’d rather miss you every day than not have gotten to meet you at all.”

NEXT → main masterlist, rules

© all work and content posted are the property of narciticv3nus 2024. It is strictly prohibited to alter or repost them under any circumstances. do not replicate or assert them as your own. refrain from endorsing my work on tiktok, wattpad, ao3, or any other social media platform. additionally, do not utilize my work for asmr purposes.

⋅ ˚₊‧˖࣪ ⊹ 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ⊹ ࣪ ˖‧₊˚ ⋅

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ ︎Simon "Ghost" Riley ♡ ︎˖ ࣪ ⊹

ᰔ let me love you like a woman

simon "ghost" riley x reader * warnings: 18+, f!reader, author attempts at accents, dom!simon, sub!reader, groping, p in v, oral sex (m!receiving), rough sex, cowgirl position * wc: 2k

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝜗𝜚 John Price 𝜗𝜚 ˖ ࣪ ⊹

ᰔ blue velvet

john price x reader * warnings: 18+, f!reader, reference to drunken sex, reference to alcohol and smoking, hinting to future sex, suggestive content, maybe ooc john?, author attempts at accents * wc: 900

⋅ ˚₊‧˖࣪ ⊹ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ⊹ ࣪ ˖‧₊˚ ⋅

nothing to see here! :)

this blog explores mature themes, and while i strive to avoid extreme graphic content, please be mindful of any potentially triggering material that may be flagged in the warnings and tags of my writing. if you notice a lack of a potentially triggering tag in any post, i would greatly appreciate it if you could bring it to my attention.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 open!

⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 & 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

ᰔ this blog is for adults 18+ only. minors do not interact! if you're an adult, display your age on your blog before interacting with me and my work.

ᰔ if you interact with me and your age or an age indicator is not readily visible on your blog, i will block you!

ᰔ i am currently open to requests, so if you have any ideas or prompts you'd like to share, please feel free to send them my way. your input is truly valued and appreciated!

ᰔ while i am open to receiving requests, please understand that i am selective about the ones i choose to write. i reserve the right to decline any prompt, regardless of the reason. i appreciate your understanding.

ᰔ it's essential to remember that it may take me up to a week or more to respond to a request, especially if it's long. i will try to reply to all the messages i receive and genuinely value each interaction. however, as one person with other commitments, i find it difficult to respond to everyone. nonetheless, i will do my best!

⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

ᰔ please be aware that this blog may contain spoilers. while my content often focuses on side stories, i still want to provide this warning as a precaution.

ᰔ i want to let you know that i write exclusively for female readers because it's the perspective that i feel most comfortable and confident writing for. it's important to me to portray the reader as i see myself, and all my writing is very personal to me. i also want to mention that my work may reflect some of my own experiences with mental health, including diagnoses such as autism, adhd, ocd, anxiety, depression, and bipolar disorder.

ᰔ i want to emphasize that the reader is generally very feminine. i am not a stereotypical 'badass' person, and i am very girlish despite being considered nonbinary. if any of this doesn't resonate with your preferences or makes you feel uncomfortable, that's okay! it just means that my writing might not be the best fit for you, and that's completely fine.

ᰔ i kindly request that you refrain from creating spin-offs, fan fiction, or other works set within the universe of my stories or alternate universes. if you're uncertain about what qualifies as a spin-off as opposed to mere inspiration, please feel free to ask for clarification. thank you!

ᰔ © all work and content posted are the property of narciticv3nus 2024. It is strictly prohibited to alter or repost them under any circumstances. do not replicate or assert them as your own. refrain from endorsing my work on tiktok, wattpad, ao3, or any other social media platform. additionally, do not utilize my work for asmr purposes.

⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫:

fluff, smut, angst, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, established relationship, hurt/comfort, different aus, dom! & sub! characters, soft & rough smut, usage of drugs and alcohol, degradation & praise, legal and morally correct age difference, loss of virginity, dumbification, condescension, hybrids, a/b/o, threesomes, poly relationships, dacryphilia, edging, and more

ᰔ your online experience is crucial to your safety and happiness. please remember to care for yourself and block any content or users (including myself) that may harm you. your well-being is essential, and it is okay to prioritize it.

𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫:

mommy/daddy kink, ddlg relationship dynamics, age play, nonconsensual somnophilia, toxic relationships, hard drugs or addiction, full blood incest nor pseudo-incest (step-cest), yandere behavior, noncon/dubcon, orgies, watersports, vomit, scat, pegging, ass eating, anal, pedophilia, underage, parents/parenthood, pet play, lactation, eating disorders, character x character ships, vore, bestiality, necrophilia, feet fetishes, etc

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫:

ᰔ the characters highlighted in bold are the ones i will write for the most because they are my favorites!

⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐲

simon "ghost" riley, john "bravo six" price, kyle "gaz" garrick, john "soap" mactavish, könig, keegan p russ, kim "horangi" hong-jin, sebastian kruegar, logan walker, hesh walker

⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ 𝐣𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧

higuruma hiromi, choso, nanami kento

⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈

arthur morgan

⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝

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ᰔ call of duty

ᰔ jujustu kaisen

ᰔ red dead redemption II

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⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

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ᰔ au + series masterlist

a compilation of all my multipart series

ᰔ request masterlist (coming soon)

a compilation of requests related to a particular character a/o aus

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⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 - [updated October 13th, 2024]

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ᰔ kinktober day XII: overstimulation — könig

könig x reader * warnings: 18+, f!reader, overstimulation, cunnilingus, fingering * wc: 1.7k

ᰔ kinktober day XI: uniform — simon “ghost” riley

simon “ghost” riley x reader * warnings: 18+, f!reader, p in v, rough sex, fingering * wc: 1.7k

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