✰☆★—NAVIGATION —★☆✰

✪ INFORMATION ABOUT THE AUTHOR ✪

You can call me WORM or CAMERON, either name will do. The PRONOUNS I use are use they/xe/ze/it/ram/ghost/ghoul/ae, please be respectful of them. I enjoy reading and writing, obviously, but I also like to paint and I love to discuss topics such as history, music, film, poetry, animals and plants. If you’re curious, here is a link to my SPOTIFY to see what I am listening to. If you’d like to get into personal contact with me, my DICORD is numberonemeowmeow.

✪ BOUNDARIES ✪

DO NOT INTERACT with me or my account whatsoever if you are transphobic, homophobic, racist, pedophilic, zoophilic, if you invalidate triggers, and/or romanticize mental illness. PLEASE USE tone indicators with me, as I have a hard time gauging tone through text and do not want to get the wrong idea from what you are saying. I would like to give a WARNING to you that I often use pet names and nicknames when referring to others, primarily close friends or mutuals, but if this makes you uncomfortable when I refer to you as such please inform me so I will stop. I mean it platonically, in any case. 

✪ WRITTEN WORKS ✪

By following the link provided, you will be directed to my MASTERLISTS. I write ‘x reader’ fanfiction and have so for quite a while, so these masterlists hold every written work I’ve created on this account, sorted by fandom, character, and series (if applicable). RULES FOR REQUESTING can be found, which, as their title state, are my rules and guidelines for requesting when it comes to written work. Please check back every so often to see if my requests are open (if they are not and I am sent a request, it will get ignored or deleted). You can also find my WRITING EVENTS at the provided link, which are current or closed events I coordinated to celebrate milestones in my writing career here on Tumblr. 

✪ MOST RECENT POSTS ✪

✪ WHERE MY ATTENTION IS AT ✪

Maybe! I don't know because I'm a bit in and out when it comes to COD right now, but I wouldn't be opposed to writing a little something for him. And honestly I absolutely feel you on that, because like... him. 👀 Hehe.

And thank you! It's going, so hopefully when he's back in the states I'll meet up with him (and fuck, but we'll see when we get there 🤭).

Literally yes you can because I swear to the gods this man has a sex drive like I've never seen before 😭 (they were right when they said military men are the horniest men out there, I can confirm this now).

No because the way young Nikolai has the sex drive and the stamina of a fucking psychopath. Like any time he comes back to you from his deployments (or the vice versa) you essentially have to pray for your own body because oh boy is he going to ruin it and you.

There's no "hello", no "how are you", no "my name is". Nuh uh. That man is walking through the doors already half naked, fumbling and stepping out of his trousers haphazardly and you better pray to be doing the same because if not, sorry! Those clothes are going to be ripped and ruined.

AND LITERALLY YOU'RE SO RIGHT. Nobody is stepping into or out of that room for days. He orders food, they leave it at the door, he picks it up from outside. That's the most. This man is literally having you in every way you could imagine and it's fucking sinful.

(And that's the cutest thing ever oml never apologize but that's a fucking adorable idea I'm in love).

Drool coming out of my mouth like a waterfall right now oh my fucking LORD. No because it's the way I haven't put too much thought into young Nik but now that you present the idea to me it's all I'll be able to think about what the fuck.

I love me a man in uniform. 😩 Like imagining him in his fatigues, the way it makes him look so much bigger and rougher and just. Ugh. 😵‍💫 Your au is literally going to make my brain rot in the best way possible I need to hear more about it oh my lord.

LMAOOOOOO I LOVE THAT HEHE. And me too, love, me too🤝.

I don't mind it at all. It's been a while since I've had a character that scratches that itch in my brain (and between my legs- I MEAN WHO SAID THAT?!). You and me both but also 🥺🥺🥺 I'll cry with all the compliments don't even oh my gods.

And you're totally okay lol, if anything, I encourage the feral behavior 😈.

FUCK I CAN'T BELIEVE I NEVER ANSWERED THIS ASK BECAUSE GOOD GODS I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT IT. When I first saw this ask I genuinely lost it so no you will not be excused - you are being getting a VIP seat as I stand on the stage and lose my mind about this concept.

It's his favorite thing, right next to being inside of you, because of course nothing can top that.

But just... having you, such a perfect little thing, straddling one of his big, thick thighs, dressed in absolutely fucking nothing while he's fully clothed, leaning back in his seat as he watches you desperately rut against his jeans like a puppy in heat?

It's no wonder the man enjoys it so much when you make such pretty, sweet sounds for him! And the way you're all disheveled, jaw slacked and sweating slightly, your poor cunt absolutely drooling slick all over his jeans with your tits bouncing as you grind back and forth, too!

And while he's made you into the perfect mess, he's leaning back wherever he's sitting - maybe in a chair at a desk, on the couch, in the pilot's seat of his helicopter... wherever it may be - soaking in the sight with lidded eyes and a lazy, cruel grin.

"Look at you... fucking yourself on my thigh like a whore."

He mumbles the words under his breath, his tone filled with that deep, heavy gravel. It's almost like he's cooing at you, but his words have too much of a mean bite to them to be considered a sweet coo that you've heard come from him before.

I can't decide whether or not he'd have his hands on or off of you, because both make sense.

Like- picture him leaning back on a couch, arms stretched out behind him along the back of it as he watches you, completely composed with his hair pulled back all neat, freshly groomed, just watching you get off on his thigh.

Or... imagine a similar situation, with him still on that couch, but instead of being leant back, he's leant forwards, hands gripping your hips either lazily or in a vice, feeling you guide yourself along the length of his thigh, giving out heavy exhales through his nostrils as his eyes fixate on where your pussy stains his jeans.

Oh! And speaking of! He's so teasing you for that!

"You are dirtying my pants, лапушка (sweetheart). You're going to clean your mess when you are done, да (yes)?"

And, newsflash, you better say yes or, at the very least, give him some sort of indication that you're agreeing with him - an affirmative hum, a nod, something. As much as those words can be taken as an offhand comment, he means his words.

Know and trust that, one you get off, (both in the sense of cumming and physically getting off of his lap) he expects you to clean up the mess you've made like the obedient thing you are.

With your tongue on your knees in front of him, preferably, he would say. But that's a point for another time.

Now, back to the subject at hand.

He's ruined you - this is a known fact.

And it's even more well know to the two of you that, since waltzing into your life, he's become the only thing that can make you cum. So all of those sloppy, desperate ruts you make against his thigh, as stimulating as they are, can't get you to finish.

You're just not able to grind yourself fast enough or hard enough against his jeans, not getting enough stimulation to push you over the edge. So, the only solution? Whimpering and whining and begging him with tears in your eyes for him to help.

And fuck, he's so mean. :( Humming absentmindedly, completely ignoring your pleas, tutting at you and clicking his tongue in disapproval when you grab at his hands with the intention of encouraging him to do the work.

This was what you wanted, no? To ride his thigh like the desperate dog you are? Isn't that right? But oh, look at your poor face. He'd be cruel to deny you for longer than you can take, now wouldn't he be?

So, with his hands grabbing at the fat of your thighs, he drags you along the length of his thigh, pulling you up near his crotch and pushing you all the way back towards his knee.

Fuck, I bet you he spits down on his jeans too, just to make the surface a fraction more comfortable for your pussy to grind against. :( It's so nasty and messy but it's so hot at the same time, so who gives a fuck!

And if you can't get off still with just grinding against him, he'll bring his fingers down to your clit and just fucking abuse it as you leak and, eventually, cum all over his jeans, the fabric all slick and a mess and just... ugh.

Thigh riding Nikolai, thank you and good night. That's all folks. <3

I'm literally going to cry /pos wait oh my fucking gods 🥹 that's genuinely one of the sweetest things I've ever been told oh my days. I'm so glad and honored and just- AUGH! Thank you so much ❤️! I've been in a bit of a slump as of late but I really do want to post more. I have a lot of ideas both in my inbox and in my drafts so hopefully soon I'll be able to fill your wish haha 🙏❤️

I'M GONNA SOB /POS THANK U SO MUCH 😭🫶❤️ That's the sweetest thing ever oml 🥺 I'm so glad you liked it. (Tbh I wasn't super proud of it but seeing how much u enjoyed it makes me just- eeeeeee) and I hope the same for you, sweetness 🫶❤️

I'm so obsessed with your soft dom Nik thoughts anon like you have absolutely no idea. They wrack around in my brain like a pinball machine. I can't explain it to you any better than that, and I absolutely adore it.

He definately wouldn't care whether or not you're a virgin. To him, it isn't something that really matters much to him. If anything, when considering the act itself, it almost brings up, like you said, a sense of nervousness or anxiety to him in the fear that could possibly come with hurting you.

He isn't a small man, after all. In all aspects.

But when you come to him one night when he's lying down on the couch, spread out comfortably and ready to watch a movie with you, hearing you whine and keen out to him about how you need him... who is he to deny you? You - his sweet, precious, beautiful girl, needing to be taken care of.

That's his job as your boyfriend, after all. Is it not?

He brings you onto his lap, hands on your hips gently kneading the flesh of your thighs, keeping it simple at first as he kisses along your skin, slow and calculated, ensuring he lavishes all the attention he can possibly give to you. To worship and adore you in all of the ways that you deserve.

Hot, heavy, messy kisses, nothing short of tongue and teeth. Sloppy. Wandering hands that grab and grope, your flesh spilling out between the gaps of his fingers. Uneven, shaky, gasping breaths from the both of you, so desperate for more, yet equally trying to keep the situation controlled.

But you need more. And he gives it to you.

He switches your positions a bit, making you lay with your back to his chest, one of his big, warm hands shimmying itself beneath the waistband of those pretty, loose shorts that you had been wearing, two fingers gently teasing around your sex.

You're so fuckin' wet and it drives him absolutely crazy.

He'd use two of his fingers to spread your folds apart, his chin resting on your shoulder as he listens to all of the pretty sounds you make as he teases your cunt. Even with two separate layers of fabric separating your pussy from the open air, both of you can still hear just how wet you are.

One of his fingers is about as thick as two of your own, after all, so after long minutes of waiting, even one of his fingers makes you cry and whimper. And fuck, the way he just explores your insides, all slow and calculating, and then, when you're ready, sinking another finger into your drooling pussy.

Nik's singing you praises all the while, too. Pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as your head falls back onto him, whispering about how warm you are, how you're making such a good mess of his hands, how nice you sound, how you look fucking gorgeous falling apart because of him when he's barely even do anything.

You can feel him getting hard under you, too. Especially with the way his free hand presses down on your lower tummy, molding you into him as he slowly finger fucks you until you practically have tears in your eyes. As loving and caring as he's being, he's going so fucking slow, never giving you enough to be able to cum.

Whimper and whine all you want, but he's exploring your pussy! He wants to make sure he knows how every inch of your insides feel, the way your slick drips down his wrist, the little squeezes you make around his fingers. Let a man have his fun. :(

"Patience, апушка (sweetheart)."

He stresses, tutting you softly as you beg for him to go faster, for him to make you cum, and for him to just fuck you already. It's like he's patronizing you, almost - but the honey coating his voice is too similar to a siren's call, and it simply encourages you to listen.

And oh, is it worth it.

Nikolai is a man of many talents, but making you cum in record time and with such accuracy and precision is, in your humble opinion, his most impressive one.

He moves his arm that holds that hand that was inside of you under your leg, his other moving down to your clit as he presses you into him - even if you thrash, it won't stop him - as he just abuses that poor little pussy of yours, fucking his fingers in and out of you with one hand, curling them against and targeting that spot that makes it hurt to breathe while his other slaps and rubs your clit until you're seizing.

He makes you cum so hard you swear on you forget how to breath properly, cries so high pitched you can't even hear them, drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth, foot cramping, sweat coating every inch of your body.

Every sensation is just too overwhelming but gods, does it feel good.

That's why it almost pisses you off when he asks if he went too far and if you're okay, helping bring you back down to Earth with gentle kisses and a concerned voice. He brings his hands away from your sensitive pussy (not before licking his hands clean and almost cumming from the taste), tracing gentle figures across your skin as he waits for you.

He's so worried that, even from fingering you, he might have hurt you in some way. Even when you reassure him that you're okay and that's the hardest you ever came and that you still want more, he's so worried and hesitant even if he doesn't outwardly show it. You're his girl, and he'd never want to hurt you. :(

Beg him a little more and a little harder, though, and he'll cave. After all, he still hasn't taken care of his own arousal, his cock so hard he swears to himself that it hurts, and you're pussy is all stretched out and wet and waiting for him, right? And you still want his cock to fill you up, right?

And he does just that. He pulls his cock out from his own joggers that he had been wearing, shimmying them down just enough as he pushes the fabric of your shorts to the side. And fuck, the way you're drooling from your little hole has him weak - even seeing your pussy has him on the brink.

He's so cocky and smug all of the time, so he can't help himself than to be a bit of a tease, tracing his tip along the outside of your pussy, tapping it against your clit and tracing it down towards your hole, never pushing in, just having his fun. But even he can't take it for long, having to bite his lip and just go for it.

He's so careful, distracting you with a hot and heavy make-out session, hands at your hips, gently massaging them as he sinks you down onto his cock inch by inch. Not only is his cock thick, but it's so big that even a few inches in has you whining and needing a rest before he tries to keep going.

"So good for me... doing such a good job, yeah? Look at you. Look at how well you take me."

He's talking to himself and he knows it, but he doesn't care. Not when you're so warm and wet and willing to take him.

When it comes to him actually fucking you, he takes his time - similar and different to earlier. His fingers are different from his dick, obviously, so now he's especially careful and considerate about your comfort - always checking in, always making sure you're okay and that you're feeling good as he bounces you up and down on himself.

Have you ever heard that thing that guys will avoid looking at you and do things like a times table in their head to stop themself from cumming so quick? No? Yes? Whatever the case, lucky for you, that isn't Nik.

He's so obsessed with the facial expressions you're making, the sounds that are coming out past (both of) your lips that his own climax climbs up with such suddenness and force, slamming into him as he does you.

A broken curse in Russian falls from his tongue as he can't help himself, his balls emptying out into you without warning, the faintest whimper coming from him as he fucks himself into overstimulation just to make you cum. :( He doesn't care how sensitive he is, he just wants to see you fall apart.

And just... ugh. Aftercare king >>>

He makes sure you're comfortable and gets you all cleaned up (even though he himself has trouble walking from how hard he came), bring you some water and some pain killers and something to eat if you ask, and makes sure you get all the praise and love you could ever ask for. <3

「✰」 ━━ ARRANGEMENTS

PAIRING Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

RATING PG-13 - Parents strongly cautioned [ Content warnings: light cursing, brief references to sex, situationship, heavy fluff ]

SYNOPSIS My submission for @bunnyreaper's Valentine's Day event for @ivymarquis. So sorry for it being late, but I really hope that you end up enjoying it. Here's to hoping that your day is spent with the love and adoration that you deserve, Ivy.

Simon Riley is, contrary to popular belief, not a difficult man to love. Maybe love is too strong and too heavy of a word to use only a few months into whatever situationship that's been established between the two of you, but it rings true nonetheless.

He's gone away for weeks and months a time, outwardly shows himself as a cold and calloused man, keeps his emotions under lock and key (and concrete walls, chained up, locked in a box on the ocean of the floor).

But, at the same time, that makes him all the easier to love.

Learning the little quirks about him, the things he enjoys outside of his work, the little excerpts he has from his past that make him human, the hobbies he takes part in, the simple and extravagant things that enjoys.

The way his eyes squint when he smiles genuinely, the way he cocks his head and keeps his eyes solely on you when you talk, the way he whispers curses under his breath each and every time he touches you, feels you, tastes you.

All of it. They're all simple qualities and characteristics that make him him, and they're what you love.

Although, as easy as he is to love for you, he falls short in actually expressing his own adoration. It's not to say that he doesn't at all or that he refuses to or anything of the like, but rather he isn't exactly sure what actions to do that would land him in your favor.

The two of you haven't put any label on what you are yet. Friends with benefits? Consistent hookup partners? Neither of you have ever called one other lovers, partners, boyfriend, girlfriend, or anything of the like, so saying you love him and the he loves you seems to be a stretch.

Is it, though?

You know you love him in evert facet, and he knows he feels the same about you, but bringing up those words of "what are we" get lost on both of your tongues, caught in the back of your throats with a sudden gasp, hesitation, and a shake of the head.

But with a day dedicated to love, even if he's never said he loves you (yet), Simon Riley, a man who knows comfort in the grip of gun more intimately than another human, decides his time would be best spent... here.

Within the walls of your kitchen in the early hours of the morning, fingers slotted into the holes of scissors as he makes diagonal cuts against the stems of flowers, eyebrows furrowed as he silently glares at the offending plants, frustrating himself with organizing them into a way that appeases him.

You've never told him what flowers you like, so he had to take his own guess when it came to choosing. White hydrangeas, white carnations, pinkish-red miniature roses, foliage to accent. To him, the assortment looked... nice.

He can only hope you'll share the same sentiment.

He's never been a romantic, per se. Hopeless at times, maybe, but never to the point where he himself or his actions made that word ring true in the phrase "hopeless romantic". Though, maybe that changes with your spot in his life seeming so conrete.

The waste from the flowers fall onto the counter with gentle thuds, the green snippets covering the surface along with leaves and flowers he deemed not suitable enough for the arrangement he's creating.

There's certainly a method to his madness.

Once he's completed cutting off the ends, ensuring all of the different plants are to the same height, he puts his focus on actually sorting and arranging all of the flowers and foliage together in a way that's appeasing to the eye.

He... certainly tries.

The finished product is a bit messier than he knows, with the different plants stuffed into the vase with no real rhyme or reasoning, but it's more the thought of his actions that matter rather than the actual factor of visual appeal.

(It still matters, yes, but let's not bruise the poor man's ego when he's working so hard to appease you.)

As he lumbers around the kitchen, mumbling soft words under his breath, dressed in a pair of loose plaid sleep pants and a gray tee, barefoot, feet padding against the hardwood, your own footsteps reach his ears, so much softer than his.

"Si?"

Your tired voice calls out to him, his name laced within a yawn, the sight of you, hair messed and tousled, hands gently rubbing at your eyes, gracing his vision. His eyes soften, that scowl and glare he had on moments ago lost within a moment at the sight of you.

"Mornin'."

He greets gruffly, leaning back against the countertop, fingers gently drumming against his shoulder as he crosses his arms tightly, anxiously waiting your reaction. And as you drop your hands, eyes landing on his face before quickly shifting to the bouquet, your heart stops.

Your lips part, jaw slackened slightly, breath catching in your throat.

"Is this...?"

"For you."

He finishes before you can even ask, giving a curt nod.

And oh, the wide, giddy, childish smile that spreads out across your lips is all he ever hoped for in response. Sleepy eyes crinkled in delight, bottom lip between your teeth as your grin so shamelessly, approaching the assortment tentatively, as if your footsteps alone would disrupt their chaotic beauty.

"You didn't have to."

The words pass through your lips, bordering on shyness, as if you can't even believe he'd go through the effort of doing something so simple for you.

"I didn't, but I did."

He muses, voice lightly laced with humor. You roll your eyes softly, but don't move to say anything more on the matter for the moment, eyes getting lost in the petals and leaves as you truly appreciate what he's taken the time to craft for you.

There's a long moment of comfortable silence that stretches between the two of you, disrupted only by the sound of the world beginning to wake up beyond the window of your kitchen, lights beginning to flicker on.

"It might help if you added water to the vase, though."

You hum, giggles passing your lips and floating into the air as you hear him mumble out a whispered 'fuck' under his breath, grumbling to himself as he takes the vase over to the sink.

He loves the banter, as do you.

He loves you, and you feel the same.

The words need to be said aloud, for a confirmation of feelings to be made and for this stupid situationship you have going on to turn into something concrete. You both want it. But, for now, even on a day dedicated to the word, it doesn't need to be said aloud for the feeling to be felt.