Pin For Survivors

Literally just “How did you drown in your own blood?” Like how does that happen?

one very annoying thing about being a writer:

I just googled how do you drown in your own blood so that my writing would be accurate. What comes up is of no help to me what so ever:

NHS- Help for suicidal thoughts

YouTube - Stories for Hope and Recovery

The owners of Featherstone’s old home is Miss Montague and Mr Capulet. Because I say so

This some good shit right here

MDNI

not developed idea at all but thinking about Ghost torturing some crime lord or other and he’s using the man’s wife as leverage. Gun to her head as she cries and shakes, tied up on the floor of the concrete room, begging her husband to help her.

Ghost gives the man a choice; his life, or hers. His lip curls beneath the mask when the man chooses his own life.

“Shouldn’t treat y’wife that way.” He says coldly. “Bad for you, yeah? Happy wife, and all that.”

The bullet lands exactly where he means it to go; between the bloke’s eyes. Blood trickles down his forehead, body slackens in the restraints holding him. The pretty thing on the floor screams. Thrashes and thumps her tied wrists off his legs while she curses him out.

“Thank you wouldn’t hurt,” he rumbles dryly. “Would’ve been you if your man had his way. Up you get, c’mon.”

He pulls her to her feet, brushes her down with lingering hands. Smooths over her hair and thumbs away the tears. The mask shifts, like he’s frowning.

“Calm down, y’fine. Not going to shoot you.” He doesn’t trust her to walk alongside him nicely, so he lifts her over his shoulder with a pat to her arse. “Alright, ‘bout time we get you home. Spare rooms a tip so we’ll be sharing the bed, mind.”

Eepy Alex

I used to get annoyed at my mum for not knowing what was in her massive tote bag.

Now I don’t know what’s in my massive tote bag

May i request Soap and Reader dry humping eachother when LT ghost walks in??🥺🥺

[yes i saw the post and ITS A NEED, only if u wanna ofc <3]

Yes ofc! :))

I'll make an assumption and just continue from that thought :P umm i didn't want to give the reader a callsign im sorry if that makes this bad😭🙏

ghost didn't sleep well most nights. most nights were made of pacing around, or zoning out by the common room's television. and that was his plan that night as well.

he thought that it would be peaceful like any other night, and maybe even more so, if his two sergeants had got worn out from their ride.

but as he made his way down the hallway from his room, and got closer to the common room, strange noises hit his ear.

now, with hesitance, but also curiosity, ghost slowly walked to the end of the hallway.

and he certainly wasn't expecting the scene in the common room.

his two sergeants. his two soldiers, rutting against each other, on the common room's couch. the lieutenant had to hold back a chuckle at the sight, the pair were going at it like desperate animals.

unsurprisingly, soap was making noise like a whiny puppy. not like his pretty sergeant wasn't whimpering at the feeling as well. the dirty mutt soap, was ruining his pretty sergeant. making her pussy wet, without enough effort to make her cum.

ghost couldn't quite see, but he could bet there was soaking wet spots on their uniforms.

soap was moving carelessly, thinking with his cock, and only for his cock. his dog brain couldn't process what a pretty thing he was rutting against. what a pretty cunt, that deserved to have her fill as well.

the scotsman was only getting louder, and closer to his release. ghost felt his cock throb in his sweatpants. god, was he hard. but he couldn't just watch from the side, as his pretty soldier was getting neglected.

soap should be thankful. he should be on his knees, begging to get a taste of their pretty girls pussy.

but no. the mutt didn't have any manners. he needed to be put in his place.

neither of the dummies noticed when he walked closer, too distracted for their own good.

ghost's big, calloused hand quickly reached out, and grabbed onto the scotsman's sweaty mohawk, yanking his head up to look at him. soap immediately stilled, a confused and spooked.

"l-lt... hey..." soap nervously chuckled, still panting.

ghost glared down at soap, his cold eyes focused on his. ghost kept a tight grip on his hair, and looked down at his pretty sergeant, laying beneath soap. she looked just as frightened as soap, scared of being in trouble.

"selfish, ain't he?" it was more of a statement, than a question. soap pouted at his lieutenants words.

ghost smirked, as his pretty soldier shyly nodded her head. his free hand reached down, and brushed strands of her hair off her forehead.

ghost just looked down at her for a moment, before turning back to soap. he yanked on soap's hair again.

"get off of her, sergeant." ghost murmured deeply.

soap scrambled to back away from in between her legs. there was a obvious bulge on his cargo pants, with a wet spot forming on top.

ghost meanly chuckled at his submission. the lieutenant turned his head down again, looking down at his pretty sergeant. his hand traveled down, cupping her crotch. it was warm, a little moist too. most of it probably from soap.

his pretty soldier whimpered at the touch, shyly curling up.

"bet yer wearing something pretty underneath..." ghost murmured into her ear, his hot breath hitting her skin.

ghost turned to glare at soap. "and he didn't even think to take a look..." he continued.

soap was panting at the other end of the coach, his dick hard in his pants, as he tried not to touch himself. his lieutenant had caught them. he had caught his sergeants, rutting against each other like animals in heat.

and he didn't yell. he didnt file for transfers. he didn't punish them... well, this probably was soaps punishments, to watch from the side, while their lieutenant touched the precious girl's pussy.

ghost opened his pretty sergeant's pants, and pulled them down her thighs. underneath, she was wearing pretty, white panties. ghost chuckled at the sight. a wet patch on the panties, making them transparent, and revealing her sweet pussy. nice puffy lips, and a little bush above her hard nub.

ghost looked up at soap again. "take off 'er trousers, sergeant." he commanded him.

soap scrambled to pull down the other sergeants pants, as his commanding officer stared down at him. once her pants were thrown to the side, soap was face to face with her white panties. before he even knew it, ghost's hand had pushed his head down, his face down against her clothed pussy.

their pretty sergeant squealed at the sudden feeling of soap's nose pressing on her clit, with his hot breath hit her fluttering hole.

"lick it, mutt." ghost's commanded in his deep voice.

the scotsman's tongue immediately got to work, licking up and down the panty covered pussy, the wet patch only getting bigger with soap's saliva. he didn't care if he couldn't breathe properly, he'd gladly die just there.

ghost had to hold down their whimpering soldier, as she squirmed around. her chest moved with her heavy breathes, her legs twitching at the feeling of a hot tongue on her pussy.

"l-lieutenant..." she whimpered. ghost reached down and brushed her cheek with his thumb.

"good girl. ya wanna cum?" ghost asked, an amused smirk behind his mask. she nodded franticly and desperately, making ghost chuckle. soap must've been listening, his tongue moving faster on her. her pretty, white panties have long gone transparent from his dirty spit.

the lieutenants dark eyes averted for just a moment, only to see his sergeant humping the coach underneath him. what a dog.

both of them were near again. only this time, ghost was here. somebody to make sure, that both of them were taken care of. his own dick was hard as fuck too. he almost couldn't wait to go back to his room, and rub the hell out his cock.

but in this moment, he needed to only focus on them. they were too stupid for their own good. they were lucky it was him who caught them. this could've gone so much worse. they were lucky he was even letting them cum.

ghost snapped out of his thoughts, as his sergeants only got louder. they needed to be over with this quickly, it was only the matter of time, until somebody else walked into the common room.

ghost pushed soap's head down again, his big nose hitting her hard clit. that did it for her, making her cum. arching her back, whimpering, and shaking. soap wasn't far behind. his hips stilled, as he came in his pants. soap lifted his head, his face moist with the mix of her juices and his saliva. their pretty sergeant laid there, twitching and breathing heavily, almost limp.

soap sat up, the front of his cargos, soaked with his cum. ghost chuckled at the sight.

"how's the adrenaline rush now?"

idk i dont have the smut talent that these kind of writings need😭

part 2 lol

so apparently it's really fucking hard to get into the SAS. and ontop of that I've been getting tiktoks of people going around an army base asking why they joined. most responses were to pay off student loans, bills, school, (someone said there's was 6 years of prison or school and *mental note for idea*), the recruiter lied or spoilt them, barracks bunny.

141 (poly?) x notsobaddasssoldier!reader

and now i can't stop thinking of soldier!reader. who really half-assed their way through everything - only doing the job for the money and to pay off student loans + they had nothing better to do.

who somehow ends up being adopted by Price (kinda like Gaz i guess ???) all because reader happened to be in the right place at the right time and saved Price's ass while managing to complete a mission the Task Force were doing.

and it's not that you saved his ass or completed the mission that makes Price go *this is mine* - it's the fact that afterwards all you can say is-

"this shit is so not worth paying off my student loans."

"oh fuck i forgot to cancel my subscription. fuckk- waste of fucking money"

- all the while a building is burning in front of you but yeah just not at all concerned about what had just happened. so price just *grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you up, claiming you as part of his task force now.*

(lol you probably can't do that irl but this is fiction sooo suck my ass.)

and laswell's just like no... they are very much still green john. way too green. no.

but it's too late. he's already introducing you to the task force. singing your praises and you're just like

"man he promised to pay off my student loans and give me food." basically how ur recruiter got ya ass.

enough said. you get the whole off the books speech, saving the world by doing things others wouldn't like. but u couldn't give a rats ass - you should but nah...

and like... you know you're the rookie... you're still green... but some of the shit 141 do you just...

"so you just gonna kidnap the wife AND the child...? right... kid, you wanna watch bluey? here..."

"and you do this often...? crazy."

but you don't exactly protest. how could you with how much you get paid. you kinda just side-eye and look away when it's geta a lil crazy. *bombastic side-eye*

and the other 141 guys - oh my days. become just as enormed as price and want to start really trying to amplify your skills. but every time, they start explaining how to do things - the best way to go about a situation or how to fight a certain way.

you pull this face. like your top lip pulls back, your eyebrows scrunch together, and there's a slight frown on your lips as they speak. like you look confused/disgusted. but you don't even realise cause-

"why're you pulling that face?" 141

"that's... that's just my focusing face..."

"oh..." 141 feels bad

then when they do take you in feild you're shaking your head no. like you haven't been around that long. what the fuck? now you're bout to infiltrate an enemy base!?!?!

"can i just wait in the car?"

"no." price

"i'm gonna vomit."

"aim at the enemy." ghost

people think that because you're suddenly in this badass task force that surely they're just using you for your assets.

they all think you're the 141 barracks bunny. and maybe you should be pissed or annoyed or grossed out. but all you can do is sigh and pause from the burger price got you, and let out a long exhale.

"fuck... maybe i can just do onlyfans or be a pornstar... shit maybe it's not too late..."

"military is bascially sex work - selling my body..."

"not that different from what i'm doing now. body being used, check. body sore in the strangest places, check."

your tone so empty, blank and nonchalant, but there's a serious look in your eyes that when you grab your phone out to maybe do a little research on how you could do that, your phone is snatched from your hand by one of the guys and they walk out the room without a second look back.

with an annoyed huff, you go back to eating your burger. but suddenly, you turn to the person who genuinely thought you were a barracks bunny.

"hey you think if i be a barracks bunny i get out of missions and shit?"

"...that's not how it works..." rando.

"fuck."

and maybe you try...

like you go to price's office and the guys are already in there, chatting about something that you should really pay attention too but you can't be assed. instead you unashamedly start to speak...

"if i suck ya'll dicks can i get out the mission?"

"no. you still have to join." gaz says amused

"even if you-" *que long sigh from price* "even if you suck our dicks."

"that's fucked up. i should've done porn."

and with the most hurt and broken-hearted look on your face, you leave the office, closing the door with a dramatic sigh. the guys just stare at the door in... confusion, amusement, and maybe arousal if ya'll dig that

idk man just gimmie more soldier!reader who just really ain't the fucked, there for money, lowkey hungry and doesn't know what the fuck is happening. kinda a pet or little sibling energy that the 141 love.

bonus*

"wait so they aren't sucking our dicks?" *soap says getting slapped in the back of the head by ghost

a/n: brain is rottinnggg. i should be doing so much other shit but... cod just consumes my brain 24/7

The Box Pt. 2 (18+)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader Pt. 1 Here cw: smut, squirting, dom/sub vibes, sex toys, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering, choking word count: 2k Reader faces her punishment for lying. First time writing smut. Be easy on me.

You saw the change in his eyes and your heart dropped. You knew not to lie, but you did it anyway for your own comfort and appeasement.

You kept talking, continuing as if all was well, him just replying with “mhm”. You knew it wasn’t. You knew that he knew it wasn’t.

He tricked you. Well, the branch tricked you. He figured it out. You lied. Four times, for that matter.

He looked you in your eyes. Not a smile in sight, his thumb no longer massaging your neck and his grip subtly tightening.

“Go get the box,” he commanded.

Fuck. Not the box.

“I can explain,” you pleaded.

“Try me,” he said. You didn’t know whether that meant you could go on with your explanation that you didn’t actually have or he would punish you more for not going to get the box the first time he told you to.

You use it as an opportunity to conjure up a response. Hopefully, one that’ll make him change his mind. Because, quite frankly, you were not at all prepared for anything he may do with any of the items from the box.

Lying was a major offense. But it was just for shits and giggles. Surely, he’d understand.

“I just wanted to spend more time with you. I like when you touch me,” you explained, your eyes wide and doe, trying to earn his sympathy.

“You like spending time with me?” he asked, more like a statement rather than a question. “And you like when I touch you?” he asked, using the same tone, keeping the same grip around your neck. He sounded like he was contemplating changing his mind.

You nodded your head slowly in response.

It really was an innocent act. You don’t normally get to spend this much time with him. He could get called into work at any point in time.

Hell. He could get called into right now. Which would work great to your benefit because that meant that you didn’t have to face the wrath of the box.

Actually. yeah.

Let’s hope he gets called into work.

Actually, no. You don’t mean it. You’d rather face the box and have him hold you down and torture your pussy for hours before leaving for another few months.

He looked at you, analyzing the plea in your eyes and the small pout on your face that you didn’t even notice was there. According to him, you subconsciously do it when you are trying to get out of something. It used to work, but it hasn't recently. Let's hope that it will today.

He scanned over your body, his free hand finding its way to your waist. His hand trailed lower and lower until it found its way to the band of your panties.

Your body shivered as he slid his calloused and rough hand past, making contact with your folds, all as he kept eye contact with you. Any time you tried to look away, embarrassed by what he’d find on his inspection, he quickly turned your head back to face him.

His hand trailed lower until he found what he’d been looking for, his middle two digits finding the pool of slick that was building up in your panties.

You didn’t think it would be that much, but when he brought his fingers up to your mouth and forced you to open, you realized you were wrong.

He removed his fingers from your mouth and used the hand that was once a collar to cup your face, his thumb on one cheek and his remaining fingers on the other. With the warmth of his hand and the feeling of his glare, you know the slick was pooling more with each millisecond that passed. He sat you up, making you get on your knees in between his legs.

He tilted your head to the side, slowly turning it to face the other way as he kissed down your neck. You couldn’t help but to let out the smallest moan. His lips soft against your skin and the warmth of his tongue just made you wish he would put it in other places.

But then suddenly, he stopped, and you felt his breath against your ear.

“Go. Get. The box,” he commanded, though his voice was much more brute.

And to no surprise, he hadn’t turned your head for easy access to your neck. It was to face the location of the box that sat in the back of the closet that you had been facing as you were enjoying his mouth on your neck.

Fuck, you thought.

He had practically thrown you off of him, giving you no choice but to obey his demands.

You walked as slowly as you could, trying to distract yourself from what’s to come. Or in better words, from who’s to come.

“Every second you waste is another minute added to your time,” he said from behind you.

Damnit. He had a time prepared. Even worse.

He knew all of your antics. It didn't matter what you did or what you said. He would always catch on.

You scrambled through the closet to uncover the infamous box. It wasn’t anything special. It was just a brown box that held every sex toy that Simon loved to torture you with.

And you couldn’t bank on any of them dying, while he tortured you because he always kept them charged.

The minimum time with a device: two hours.

He’s done it before. Using a device on you until it died. You were just about to come, and then the vibrations got lighter and lighter until they were no more. You whined, but best believe Simon had something else for you.

You shamefully walked the box to him and put it on the bed. Maybe he was feeling nice and would let you choose.

Wrong.

He pulled you onto the bed and immediately instructed you to remove all of your clothing.

It didn’t take long as you only had on a large t-shirt and your panties.

He watched as you removed your panties, the strands of slick elongating as you pulled them down.

“Give them to me,” he commanded, holding his hand out.

You did as you were told and now you were over him, fully naked, with your wetness practically dripping down your thigh. He admired you in all your glory, and he couldn’t wait to watch you squirm and plead as he tortured you.

You went to him, straddled over his thigh and your head on his shoulder, a tear about to slide down your face.

The last time you lied, your pussy was sore for two days.

He slowly trailed his hand up and down your spine. He could feel your puddle of slick through his pants. His other hand opened the box, rummaging through its contents.

The more he dug, the closer you came to sobbing.

And you did once he pulled out the first device.

The wand.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed. But it wasn’t enough. He continued to rummage through as your tears fell onto his shoulder. He couldn’t care less. You were only apologizing because you got caught. And now you had to pay.

Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.

You should’ve learned your lesson the first time.

He pulled out the bar that kept your legs spread apart, something he got after you kept closing your legs before. Then, he pulled out the ropes. What he would do with them, you wouldn’t know. And lastly, he pulled out the homemade makeshift thigh holster, used to keep whatever device perfectly planted on your clit no matter how much you moved.

In combination with the bar, you weren’t going anywhere, and neither was the wand.

He gathered everything and put them in the pile beside himself. He tended to you for the last time before his wrath began.

“Don’t cry,” he said, wiping away your tears. His voice was tender. Comforting. it was possible he would be more gentle with you than you thought.

“If you hadn’t lied, you wouldn’t be in this predicament,” he antagonized, placing a kiss on your cheek that perfectly coated his lips with your salty tears.

He pried you off of his leg and arm and laid you in front of him. There was nothing you could do now other than to comply. That way, he’ll see you’re being a good girl and maybe end his torture early.

You sniffled as he locked your legs in place with the bar, your ankles perfectly placed in the straps.

“Give me your arms,” he calmly demanded. and you obeyed.

He tied the rope to the bar and then to your arms. The more you struggled, the more your pussy was exposed. And last but not least, the thigh holster, accompanied by its friend. The wand that you dreaded. You wouldn’t even use it while he was away. It was too powerful. You couldn’t last two minutes with coming and the overstimulation was too much to bear.

He angled the wand perfectly on your clit, making you squirm around. You tried to get away or at least move it so it wouldn’t be as torturous, but you couldn’t, making you softly whine.

All this and he still has your panties in his hand. You thought he would have thrown them on the ground with your t-shirt by now.

He gently trailed his thumb up and down your folds for a little before he got up from the bed, licking your slick from his thumb.

He turned your body and pulled it to face the edge of the bed. You worried if you moved too much, you might fall off, but Simon wouldn’t let that happen. He’d ram his dick into you to send you jolting back before he let you hit the ground.

He admired the view of your pussy before he came beside you, sitting on the bed and gently stroking your cheek.

“Simon, I said I’m sorry,” you pleaded. But he still didn’t care. You were already tied up. There was no way out.

“What are your colors?” he proceeded to ask, disregarding everything you had just said.

“Red. Yellow. Green,” you said, hoping the eye contact would make him loosen up a bit. Or maybe the tear that slid down the side of your face would do it.

It didn’t.

“Good girl,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead and quickly stuffing your panties in your mouth, forbidding you from speaking. More tears rolled down the sides of your face. The flashbacks were coming in all too well.

“I love you,” he told you, before he set the wand to the highest setting it could go, already having you arch your back, squirming around to try to run away from it.

Your efforts were of no use. There was no running from this. He watched as your pussy cried with you, streams flooding onto the bedsheets.

He ran his fingers through your folds, sometimes sending them into your hole, preparing it for what was to come next. It just added to the stimulation, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. It had only been two and a half minutes and you had already come.

Simon was silent as he watched you struggle. He loved seeing you try to run away. Your hands reaching for the wand to pull it away, but you simply couldn’t reach. He just played with your pussy as the wand worked its magic on your clit.

To stretch you out more, he took out the dildos, smallest to largest, the smallest still being enough for you to whine and arch your back in pleasure.

Every time you came, he changed the size of the dildo that was inserted into you. It had been ten minutes, and you were only on dildo two out of seven. After seven, you had to face the final boss.

Simon.

Little did you know, he would cycle through the dildos until your squirt made a puddle on the floor, edging and overstimulating you at the same time.

Then you’d be ready to take his dick.

Pt. 3

currently thinking about the moment the boys all collectively realise that you are the captain’s favourite

the boonie hat. it sounds silly but john is very protective about that hat in the sense that he doesn’t allow a single soul to touch it. one time ghost misplaced it and got an earful for weeks about how he had to get a new one and it didn’t feel the same as his old one

during the third week of this earache, ghost made the silly mistake of saying, ‘it’s jus’ a bloody hat, captain.’ price spent the rest of the week being a petty bastard

people used up all of simon’s earl grey? it’s just tea, lieutenant. lost one of his favourite knives on a mission? just a weapon, simon. simon learned never to touch that bloody hat ever again

or that time when gaz dared soap so swipe the hat from his head and bolt down the hallway whilst price was in the middle of an important conversation with laswell. once john caught up with him he was rewarded with 6 weeks of cleaning duty and getting his ass absolutely handed to him in front of the new recruits

gaz filmed the whole thing and showed it to everyone, earning 6 weeks of scrubbing floors on his knees right next to johnny

but when you have a bit too much to drink at whatever shithole bare they were drinking in and drag your captain on to the dance floor? he smiles and they think you’re about to be sent to an early grave

the sounds of roxette coming from the old jukebox send your body into a routine of seductive swaying. all eyes are on you especially when you reach up to grab his boonie hat from his head before placing it on your own

tipsy giggles leave your throat as you dance, taking the tumbler of scotch from his hand and taking a sip. tilting your head and biting your lip as you look at him

you’re laughing death in the face, the boys think. the captain is about to wipe that smirk off of your face and make you ever regret touching his beloved hat. you’re about to learn the painful lesson they all endured

or so they thought. john doesn’t do anything except stand there, arms folded over his chest in the middle of the room as he watches you with pure amusement, “better give that back, trouble…”

“or what, cap’n?” you giggle out, taking another sip of his drink. he takes a few steps forward before pulling you against his chest, his cheeks pulling up into a smile

“or i’ll take it from ya.” he chuckles, taking a hand up to pull the hat down over your eyes as he locks his arms around your waist, swaying you to the music

just a few feet away, the boys still sit at their booth. slouched in the booth with cross pours written across their faces,

“well, I guess it’s obvious who the favourite is.” johnny grumbles out as the other nod along in agreement

A meeting in the past.

Art by aleksvarh (instagram)