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lovifie · 3 days

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Masterlist Phone Sex with Boyfriend!Simon

"Are you home?"

”Are you home?”

That's the signal that you have learned, and the only one Simon gives you, your phone rings as soon as you send your positive answer.

“Hi, Simon.” You say with a singing voice when you pick up the call, pressing your phone against your ear.

“Hi, darling.” His deep voice grumbles through the phone, making you bite your lips as the sound travels down your body.

The indubitable sound of his buckle being toyed with sounds loud and clear in the background.

“Aw, Simon… are you missing me, sweet boy?” You say with a pout in your voice, using your shoulder to hold your phone while you twist off the cap of the nail polish bottle.

“Every bloody second, sweetheart.”

Your heart warms with his shameless declaration, making you smile even though he can't see your face.

“My pretty boy, I miss you too…” The line stays quiet for a minute, only his breathing audible; until you break the silence. “Does your pretty cock hurt, darling?”

“Yeah, fuck, yes it does.” He groans, a squeaky sound of the spring of the mattress sounding under his voice. He must be thrashing around on the bed, desperate. And you thought you had trained him better.

“You should do something about it then, Simon.” You say, raising your foot to rest on the edge of the chair kicking your slipper off. “Don’t you think?”

“Can I?” His breathless voice betrays him, letting you see as clear as day how desperate he is.

Good boy.

“Of course you can, love.” You answer, chuckling to yourself.

The response is immediate. Loud in the silence of the call, you hear how he gets his belt undone, throwing the buckle back carelessly so his aching member can find solace in the harsh wrap-up of his hand.

His first moan comes to life right after the first tug, desperate, to the point it makes you wonder for how long he has fought with himself to not call you only to get conquered by the lustful needs of his body.

The buckle of the belt jangles in the background like a metronome with each flick of his wrist, the telltale sound of the rhythm he is setting.

“Talk to me, pet. Please.” His voice is whiny on your ear, desperation oozing out of each syllable, almost enough to make you feel bad about how unbothered you are by it.

It's not that having your poor boyfriend calling you in desperation to hear your voice so he can actually cum doesn't turn you on, c’mon, you are not made of stone. But it also feeds your voracious ego, filling you with cockiness that you know he will quickly wipe out of you the moment he's back.

But he is away now, and in this situation, you have the upper hand; threatening to close it around his neck knowing he would enjoy it more than yourself. And it would be such a waste of an opportunity if you didn't choke him a little bit.

“Have you been thinking about me, love? Hm? Is that why you are so worked up?” You ask, picking the brush soaked in nail polish and applying it over your thumbnail. His whiny moan of your name is all you get as an answer, choppy breaths surrounding it helping it travel right to your core. “Been thinking about me touching you, hm? Wrapping my lips around your poor weeping cock, Simon?”

“Fuckin’ hell, luv…” He groans back, you hear the springs of the mattress again when he moves.

“Are you lying down, Simon?” You ask when you are on your third nail. A weak, high-pitched whine is all you get as an answer, a yes, you assume. “Stop then.”

queaky queaky queaky

“Simon.”

queaky queaky queaky

“Simon, stop touching yourself.”

…

“What?” He's breathing so hard it is almost difficult to understand him.

“Did I stutter? Stop touching yourself. Hands up, pretty boy.” You almost don't recognise your voice, an authoritative tone improper of a civilian talking to a lieutenant.

But he obliges, immediately, if he wasn't breathing so loud you could have heard the soft thud of his length falling red and angry over his abdomen.

“For god's sake, sweetheart, please.” He groans, but you can no longer hear the mattress squeaking or his buckle being shaken. Obedient little soldier he is.

“Who called me?” You ask, acting incredulous that he would now not let you do your part. He mumbles a tiny “me” making you smile once again. “Then do as I say, love.”

He huffs without a further complaint, waiting for your next words so he can finally move.

“Put me on speaker, and the phone on your chest so your hands are free.” You say, moving to paint your other hand. He does as instructed, hearing the rustling of his shirt as he lays his phone. “Now wrap your hand around your dick, both of them, tight. And move, slowly!”

You punctuate the last word with emphasis, hanging on the line to hear his movements but all you hear are his pretty sighs and puffs. You groan, making him stop in his movements once again. “Not your hands, Simon. Your hips. Move your hips.”

“What? Like-”

“Yeah, Simon. I want you to fuck your fists and imagine it is me the one your fucking.” You say, chuckling when you hear him moan. His voice sounds suddenly loudly and you assume his phone must have slipped up toward his face when he planted his feet on the mattress, thrusting his hips up.

“There you go, good boy, Simon.” You say, melodic voice making Simon shudder as he throws his head back, moaning shamelessly as his hips move faster and faster to meet the tight embrace of his fists.

Every time that an especially loud whine falls from his lips you coo at him, the mental image of him with his eyebrows furrowed, teeth digging into his bottom lip to try and catastrophically fail to keep his voice down making your mouth water.

He calls your name again, begging for your attention as he mumbles incoherent words and you pity him only when you are done with your nails, waiting for them to dry as you turn your attention to him.

“C’mon, darling.” You half-whisper to him. “Give it to me, love… Think that it is not your hands, think that it is my pretty cunt around your dick right now. I know you can.”

A cry of your name.

“Think is my sweet cunt sucking you in, hm? Doing that thing that you love me to do.”

A low groan.

“Think that you are fucking me stupid, Simon. Moaning your name and milking you empty, love.”

A minute-long silence right before a chain of curses starts to spill from his lips, the squeaky sounds of the bed growing irregular as he cums over his own chest in thick spurs making him dizzy.

You blow on your nails, happy with the results and waiting for your dear boyfriend to come down from his high as you sweet talk him. “You did so good, Simon… My darling… My sweet boy… My baby…”

“Watch it, you little minx”

You shiver at the sudden switch, remembering the temporal aspect of your position. Downing on you every single word you just pronounce and every condescending tone you use.

Luckily for you, his deployment is meant to go on for a couple of weeks longer; enough for him to grow desperate enough and not pay you back with the same coin you just used.

No need to worry about the consequences of your actions any time soon.

“And by the way, sweetheart.” He says once his breathing is back to normal, the sound of his buckle jangling again. “The OP was cut short and I'm getting home sooner.”

You swallow. “How much is sooner?”

“Tomorrow's night”

@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z

@lyralein @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121

@spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @arbesa-mind @cmbghost

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@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow

@hxnneydew @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger

@soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust

@sodavrr @yuki2129 @idk-justkane @shanhalen @dukeofjjune

@vane28282 @dracu1ara @vivi2e @lordbugs @murder-hobo

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ungodlybre · 1 day

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𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭, 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲.

You're the sweet single Mom who lives next to Simon cw: lactophilia aka breastfeeding kink, breeding, really mild cum play. Porn with a smidge of plot. I fear we've matched his freak laid ease and gentle people.

"Again, I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am." You started, but then are immediately shushed by Simon who was crouching to look under the sink. "I told you it's no problem." He insisted, his gaze fixed on the pump that sat next to many cleaning products. "Sorry, let me get all of this." You hurried, grabbing the bottles and lastly going for the pump. "Now you can get a better look." You said, leaving him alone in the kitchen to work his day away.

An hour later, Simon was laid out on the floor, tightening things, drilling, and cursing whenever something fell or he couldn't find a screw. You sat on the counters stool, doom scrolling on your phone waiting for him to finish.

"You done?" You asked with a soft smile, making his heart throb in his chest. Simon hummed, clearing his throat when noticed you changed your blouse to something more low cut and exposing. "Can I get a glass of water?" He rubbed his chest, trying to control his nerves. And there it was. What looked like 3 or 4 bags filled with breast milk.

Simon shifted his stance, flinching when the refrigerators heavy door slammed shut. "Here you are." You handed him the glass, "How much do I owe you?" Simon didn't want to answer, Simon couldn't answer! He downed the whole glass, coughing once he was done. "it's a'right." He protested, "Oh c'mon, " You pouted, "It's the least I can do." You went to reach for your purse, "No, no, no." Simon grabbed your wrist, stopping you. You could cum on the spot. "We can do favor for favor?" You offered, "That sound like a plan?" Your voice soft. Simon nodded speechless, eyes flicking between your lips and cleavage.

The second Simon got home, he stripped at the door, booking it for the shower. You and Simon were alike in some way, telling yourselves you shouldn't but you do. You laid in bet with your legs spread, your top on and panties off, teasing your slit with your fingers. Squeezing your eyes shut each time your finger slips over your clit. You squeezed your tits, groaning when some milks spirts out.

On the other side of the wall, Simon was panting as he fucked his hand. Whispering your name repeatedly, so quiet and hushed. Almost like a prayer.

Simon's head tilted back, water running down his body while rubbed himself. He came hard, moaning to the point it sounds like mewling, So sensitive and still so hard.

Both You and Simon frustrated, so eager for a bigger, better release.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍯 ꒱

Simon was disgusted with himself.

On his bed with cum covered sheets, hands and thighs. This isn't like him, he isn't someone who's this sexually bothered. The moans from his phone were still playing, a painful reminder of his previous endeavors. He closed the tab in shame, cringing at the painfully corny title, "busty mom breastfeeds younger man."

His legs sore from being sprawled, his quads contracting each time he came. Simon couldn't place it, surely it was the many videos of men sucking the nipples of breastfeeding women, or it was the idea of Simon fucking you full of him while your tits leak all over yourself.

I'm going mad, He thought. Pulling himself out of bed. He stripped the mattress of its sheets. Still horny, Simon jumps in the shower, flushing his thoughts down the mental drain with a freezing cold shower.

Simon grabbed his mesh laundry bag, stuffing his blankets inside, sighing once more. Even more displeased with himself when he sees you lugging your bags to the elevator. "Laundry day?" You asked as you pushed the stroller inside the elevator. "Unfortunately." He chuckled awkwardly, his cheeks turning a crimson shade. "Hi Ave." He pinched the infants cheek.

Once you three make it down, Simon loads his blankets into the washer and sits in the open chairs. He watched you quietly, you held Avery on your hip while pouring fabric softener in the machine, making random noises to calm her down. By the time Simon's finished, You're still folding Avery's clothes. Playing nursery rhymes, singing them quietly.

And Simon gets right back to it, every night. Touching himself to the thought of you. Dreaming of fucking you into the mattress with his mouth all over your chest and neck. He feels like a teenager, so pent up; itching for release.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍯 ꒱

"Thanks for inviting me." You smiled, Simon's heart jumped, "You're the only person I thought of." Simon admitted, taking a large drink out of his wine glass. "Woah!" You raised your brows, "I'm not really a drinker." Simon cleared his throat, "I can tell." You giggled, slowly sipping your drink.

Simon's a genius! Yes, he may have stretched the truth. Yes, he did lie about having reservations at this very fancy restaurant for two months *he made the reservations 2 days ahead. He may have also lied about having a date who flaked. But a favor is a favor, and it is what you had agreed to.

"Where's Avery?" Simon, took another hefty swing. "She's staying with my cousin." You nod, noticing Simon shifting around in his seat. "Are you okay?" You raised a brow, growing concerned at his fidgeting. "I'm fine. 's just the wine." It was also the raging boner he had from staring at you and your almost skin tight dress. "Alcohol makes me sweaty too." You laughed lightly, and that was a lie. You handle your alcohol pretty well, though you do become some hormonal freak ready to pounce on anything with blood flow.

He needed a gun. It was like torture watching you talk and adjust your top every time it would move lower. Like a serpent in his ear, just a taste. One, taste. You make it to the complex, offering to split one of your bottles. Simon couldn't say no, Even though his dick was screaming at him.

He was determined. And there is nothing like a man who is starved.

You're both seated on your couch wine glasses in hand, You're talking about your sink. Simon's just listening-Well-he's trying to. His cock is throbbing, and your lips are so plush and he likes the way you're talking. He's turning against himself. His mind wanders to the videos he watched.

"Can I ask what that thing was?" He interrupts, man-spreading, trying to ease the throbbing in his cock. "What thing?" You ask confused, "That contraption thing, when I was fixing your sink." Simon wasn't even trying to hide his horniness, moving closer to you, rubbing your leg. "Oh the pump? it's for my milk." Simon hummed while his eyes traveled to your chest. "I like milk." He uttered lowly, His words going straight to your pussy. You smile coyly, putting your face in Simons shoulder. Only making his Situation worse. "I bet it tastes wonderful," he teases, dipping his head to get close to your ear, "Just a little taste."

desire, arousal, thirst.

You pull the straps of your dress down, exposing your two full breasts. Biting your lip when he sighs at the view in front of him. Grabbing your neck he pulls you in, kissing your lips sloppily. You whimper when he pulls away. "I need these fucking tits." He growls, hungrily, sucking your nipple. You gasp, poking your chest out, pulling at his hair. "fuck yes. " you say quietly to this erotic feeling of release. Simon's a grunting mess, grunting like a rabid dog. "I need you," He whispers, before going for your other nipple, "I need you, baby." He suckles again, pulling away to squeeze and watch a milk leak. His long tongue licks it up, you squirm and squeak, each time, his cheeks hollow.

Your brain is fuzzy, you're a panting mess, and now your panties are ripped in two and your dress is on the floor, Your legs are in the air while Simon sucks harshly on your clit. Groping your tits while his tongue flicks back and forth on your sensitive nub. "It's so fucking good." You cry, kicking your legs. Simon fingers you, fucking you with his middle and ring finger. Not stopping until he hears that gushing sound one more time. He's greedy, going down to kiss you clit and then back up to suck on your breast. You almost pass out from the pleasure. You haven't felt this good since god knows when. And Simon? Simon was in a trance, never knowing where to go next, so much gold and his greed was overwhelming. This was better than fucking his fist for hours, this was better than porn.

And those moans, he could listen to them all day and all night. His dick was getting harder. He knows the second he slides in, he'll be done for. He hoped, like in his fantasies you'd let him cum inside, fill you full with his hot, thick, cum. "I'm gonna fuck this pussy." He said, unbuckling his pants frantically. He pulls both his pants and briefs down, his cock springs out. Drooling, you wait for Simon to put it in, whining when his hand rubs your pussy. You're frustrated. Simon moves to the couch, "Come sit." He orders, stroking himself. Quickly, you get up and straddle him. "Oh fuck." You moan, then giggle when he rubs his tip on your hovering cunt. You lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, sinking down on his length. "It's so big." You croak, lifting slowly, then sinking back down. "Take it, baby," He breathes, holding your waist, "Fucking take it." He grunts, picking up the pace, bucking his hips up into you.

Simon grabs your arms, moving them from his neck. Giving himself a better look at your tits, bouncing up and down each time he fucks into you. "feels good?" He mocks you, Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he stops and grinds you onto his dick. "What if I rub your clit like this?" His thumb rubs at your nub, small circles that drive you wild. Now you were grunting and grinding. "I love your cock!" You mewl.

You're like a wet and warm vice. Something out of a dream. The way you slide up and down on him while your pussy drools. Simon died and came back to life at some point. When his cock slipped out and you put it back in, he knew this isn't the first or last time."Gimme those fucking tits," He gropes them harshly, your milk spurting on his hands. Your cunt squeezes when he licks up the spill. "Dirty girl." He mutters, "You like it when I fuck your pussy and suck your nipples?"

"I love it," You pant, grinding stopping, "I fucking love it." Simon chuckles, lifting you off his cock. You lay on the sofa with your legs spread, "Look at this perfect," Kiss, "Pretty," kiss, "Pussy."

Simon pushes in, the curve of his cock hitting that spongy part inside of you. You sigh when he goes to the hilt, rocking his hips slowly. "I'm gonna fuck you full of cum." Simon whispers in your ear, You start to grind on him again, but he holds your hips. "Yes." You keen, taking his length deeper. Your breath hitches when he lifts your hips onto his thighs.

The sound of skin smacking is heard. You're silenced by pleasure, tears are rolling out of the corners of your eyes. Simon's focused, thrusting quickly. Your pussy quivers, "Oh, I'm cumming!" you scream, trying to shut your legs. Simon forces them open, fucking you through it.

Simon's thrust stutter, and his cock twitches. His moans become higher the closer he gets. Whining when he's on the brink of filling you up, gasping when he finishes, little thrusts while his cum floods your pussy. Simon pulls out, watching his cum drip. Sticking his fingers inside, fucking it back in. "Open." he demands, the shoves his fingers in your mouth. You gag when he pumps them in the back of your throat.

The next morning you wake up, naked in your bed. Confused with a throbbing headache. A sleeping Simon snoring next to you. You don't wake him, instead, you watch his chest rise and fall until your eyelids shut again.

ʚthanks for reading!ɞ

#neighbor!ghost #simon ghost riley #call of duty smut #ghost headcanons #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader

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forsworned · 11 hours

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It’s said canonically that simon riley has trauma around intimacy from torture 😔 If you feel comfortable writing it, can I please ask for a short fic of an Afab reader body worshipping/lovingly pleasuring Simon after they both work through his trauma and he’s getting all soft and emotional and babbling about how good reader is making him feel and how much he loves them and can’t believe someone cares about him this much? I always liked the idea of Simon being portrayed as vulnerable and soft and not this dom sex god a lot of people portray him to be. I really love your work and would love to see your take on this request :)

Soft ft. Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Author's Note: So I do recall someone making a post about this and I have to say I do not agree with everything. Men definitely process trauma, specifically sexual trauma a lot differently than women do. While women experience guilt, men experience anger. And maybe it's not all men who experience it that way, but after reading the comic and making my own assessment, I can say that Simon does have lingering anger. Of course, he is hell-bent on avenging his dead family, but all that pent-up energy could be going toward trying to even the score. He is pretty level-headed and able to compartmentalize. He has support from his comrades as well as undergoes mandatory rigorous mental health assessments because that's military protocol. He needs to be able to perform his duties on the field without putting himself or others at risk. He also most certainly gets mandatory counseling. Although he may be reluctant, his superiors are very much aware of the possible impact that it has on his mental health. So all that to say that Simon is not without help. He is not as "damaged" as people may perceive him to be. He's not a broken individual. As seen in the remastered MW's, albeit reluctant he can clearly put his trust in others. He develops relationships with the people who he works closely with meaning he is capable of change. SIGH. I just wish people would break this down a little more, but I do get what you're saying. His masculinity, trust issues, and the type of secret operations he goes on can lessen the effectiveness of the therapy. He's definitely a very complex character with layers to him, but I just don't think he's as weak as you may think he is. It's also important to note that it hasn't been confirmed that this current Simon went through the same thing. He could have a completely different background. Honestly, Activision is so fucking inconsistent but ANYWAYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I hope you enjoy this. Also if you read this all the way through, I applaud you. But thank you for enjoying my work, I didn't mean to critique you and your request, but I just couldn't let it slide LOL

Warnings: PnV sex, AFAB!Reader, Some Canon Simon Lore, Sexual Content, Mentions of Sexual Trauma

"Si—Simon..."

You sigh out in pleasure with every roll of your hips as you grind down on him. Your clit grazes against his lower abdomen, and his cock stretches you out pliant. Fingers dig into his shoulders, marking half crescents into his pale, scarred skin. But something feels off.

His hands loosen their grip on your hips, and upon opening your eyes you find him his half-lidded gaze distant in a familiar haze. He isn't present.

"Simon." You halt the rutting of your hips, cupping his stubbly cheeks. "Are you alright?"

His onyx hues fixate on you. He is clearly readjusting his withdrawn eyes to refocus on you. You didn't want to say it yet, but you had felt him go a little soft a few seconds prior. "We can stop."

"No, no." His fingers squeeze your middle as he sits up a bit. You shake your head, but he's not letting up. "Why stop?"

You firmly grasp his face and his blonde lashes flutter up at you with a seemingly unreadable expression, but you're no stranger to Simon's detachment. Although he loathes to admit it, it happens. The relearning of being intimate is tumultuous for him.

"Because you're not mentally here, my love."

He frowns. "But I want y'to finish."

You exhale sharply. He doesn't even deny it. "No, Simon. I'd feel disgusted with myself if I finished while you weren't here with me."

He struggles to reply. In all honesty, he doesn't know what to say. It's not exactly a common occurrence, but he's not too keen on having a conversation about it. You never pry though. His therapy sessions are his own, unless, of course, you join him if he so desires.

Couples counseling is mandatory. A rule you established when you first decided to tie the knot. If you had problems that were beyond just a sit-down talk, a professional would have to intervene. And Simon agreed. No fuss, no muss. To preserve the sacredness of your relationship, he'd do anything.

He sighs. "'m sorry, dovie." He caresses your sides, feeling the gooseberries on your skin rise. A small smile adorns his lips and you giggle at his smugness.

"Stop it." You begin to get off of him, but Simon holds you firmly. You feel his dick harden inside of you, now kissing your cervix. A little gasp escapes your chest as you readjust yourself.

"Y'like tha'?" Simon's grinning now. It's his confidence gleaming through the abysmal darkness of his mind. The life in his eyes feels revitalized, and you now feel his vigor—literally.

"Yes, but..."

"'m here, love." He reaffirms, squeezing your waist again. "'m here. Please, 'm achin' for you."

He groans a bit and bucks his hips when he feels you pulsate around him. You return your own moan, leaning forward but his fingers thread through your hair and he brings you into a sloppy, heated kiss. His hips thrust into you slowly and deeply, earning a guttural moan from him.

For a moment as you withdrew from the kiss, your gazes meet and Simon's eyes soften and become glossy with tears that brim over his oculars and spill over the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, baby." You coo, holding him close as you kiss his face. His sadness is silent, yet palpable. You're now babbling sweet, sweet words to him as you pepper him with kisses, and Simon holds you as if you're going to slip away. You gently guide him through the double inhale technique you learned from your therapist, and with the sweetness of your voice, the kindness in your eyes, and the tenderness of your touch, he feels at ease.

"I dunno how y'put up with me."

You grin, kissing the corner of his lip. "It ain't easy."

"Oh?" He flips you over on your back, pressing you firmly against the mattress and you giggle into the nape of his neck. "Wanna say that again, love?"

You thread your fingers through his sandy blonde hair and kiss the tip of his nose. "You're not hard to love, Simon."

His eyes soften once more and he kisses you deeply. Simon has never cherished anyone more in his life. You were always so patient and kind from the jump. You were truly the "greater woman" behind the "great man".

He rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes as you gently card your fingers in his hair.

"Thank you, lovie."

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euno11a · 1 day

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i just saw your post about reader who can’t make themselves cum and ugh i love it, especially because i feel like no one ever talks about or includes it. anyways i would love to hear your thoughts on reader who has a hard time cumming, especially during sex no matter how good it feels

I fell that it’s honestly really important to talk about it to let people know that they aren’t alone. And I’m so glad you liked it :)

It is scientifically proven that men can cum easier during sex than women. It’s mostly because women have complex bodies, what works for one person might not work for the other. So when figuring out your own body, it’s important to keep in mind that your body is unique compared to others.

this wasn’t the first time that you’d been sprawled out in bed with Simon pleasing you. He kissed up and down your body, caressed every inch of you, even stopped for a little to rest his head on your chest and make sure you were nice and relaxed. You two had been on this journey together for a little while now, trying to figure out what you like and how he can make his pretty cum. He had tried many things, using his tongue, light pressure on your clit, firmer pressure, no pressure and just stimulating your g-spot, stimulating your g-spot and your clit, adding nipple play to see if that made you more sensitive; but even if it felt good, your body wouldn’t let yourself go.

at first, Simon thought it was because he wasn’t good enough. That he just lost his touch and that he wasn’t doing enough for you. But when you comforted him and explained how you’d been like this since you could remember, it made him feel better and worse. Alright, he wasn’t a complete failure and could still make you cum…but why hasn’t he? Every time you two had sex or just did foreplay, he would make sure to take all the time in the world to get you really nice and wet for him. He would use his fingers to curl inside you and touch that spot to make you mewl and arch your back off the mattress. But you still couldn’t cum. You were in the middle of him thrusting into you, feeling how his cock would twitch gently inside you, his fingers working your clit. Left side, right side, hood of it, right on it, pinching it gently, but all it would do is make you feel more pleasure that lead to nothing but a dead end.

you buried your head into his neck and let out small whimpers as he kept his movements steady. After another 15 minutes, that’s when the whimpers turned into silent sobs. Your body jerked a little as you cried, tears gliding down your cheeks and onto his bare shoulder. His head leaned down against yours and held you tightly, gently sliding your of you to hold you in his lap. You cried softly, neither of you talking, but both knowing what was wrong. “I don’t like being broken…” you said through little cries, voice soft and hoarse. But you were cut off by Simon shaking his head and cupping your face to press small kisses against the apples of your cheeks.

“Yer not broken, love. Y’just different. Just because we don’t know how t’make you cum just yet doesn’t mean my sweet girl is broken.” His words were soft against your ear as he caressed your head, another time failed.

as time passed, you began losing hope. It’s fair, thinking you just can’t do it because something inside is wrong or maybe you just weren’t cut out to be able to feel that pleasure everyone talks about. You started to notice how Simon even began refusing any type of pleasure. Handjob? No thanks, love. Maybe a blowjob cause you had a stressful day? Nope, but I do need cuddles, sweet girl. He was refusing your love. While he sat in his home office finishing some paperwork, you walked in quietly, staring at him as he stared down at the paper, pushing up his glasses. The glasses that you finally got him to buy because he kept complaining about the television being too hard to see and the news on his phone is too small. Thank god you did though, he looked bloody hot in them. Scooting your way into his office, you stood in front of his desk, catching his attention. “Somethin’ ya need, love?”

your cheeks burned as he looked at you, but you couldn’t get distracted! “Why are you refusing my love?”

it was clear the question caught him off guard by the way he paused, mouth slightly agape as he looked at you. “I’m not refusin’ your love. What makes you say that?”

“Wha-…? Yes you are! Every time I offer you a blowjob or a handjob, you say no. Am I doing something wrong? Does it not feel good? Do you…do you not like me anymore?”

he could hear your little heart shatter in that last question, standing up from his chair and walking over to you. He grabs you hands and sits on his desk, pulling you towards him. “I fucking love you. Neve think for a minute that I stopped loving you. I’m refusing to let you do any of tha’ because I don’t think it’s fair to ye. Not fair that my sweet girl has to endure not bein’ able to cum, so m’not gonna either.” He says while looking straight into your eyes, his thick and calloused fingers pushing some hair behind your ear. “Won’t cum until you can.”

while you thought he was refusing your live, he was actually doing it because he didn’t want you to feel left out? This man looked like a scary man, but he was the most thoughtful and caring teddy bear ever. “What if I never do, though?”

“Then neither will I.” He spoke seriously. “Understand?”

the small nod you give him is enough acknowledgement for him, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Now, I was doin’ some research, and I found that most women can’t reach an orgasm without some help. So, what do ya think ‘bout lookin’ for some toys with me, eh?”

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ghostybaby000 · 3 days

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Never Yours | Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: He had seen blood hundreds of times before, but never from you. He didn’t know what to expect while listening to your cry’s on the phone praying you wouldn’t lose consciousness.

Part one posted above to start this read!

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: violent theme, weaponry use, blood, symptoms of panic

Tag List: @yyiikes @talooolaaloolla (not fully edited, apologies for any inconsistencies!)

He wanted so badly to look at you more thoroughly, but knew that the hospital would be able to help you faster. He felt as if his heart had entirely stopped, and that the world was moving at speeds beyond light. The car screeched to a halt outside the emergency room as he tore the door open to the car, again picking you up as gently as he could, trying his best to ignore the wetness of your blood covering his hands and in your hair. Leaving the car and the prying eyes outside the building he shut the door with his foot and turned to head inside. He couldn’t hear anyone around him, as he pushed through people in beds and wheelchairs yelling out for help, making it to the front desk.

‘I-I need someone to help her.’ He was out of breath now from yelling, the adrenaline not letting his brain calm in the slightest.

The woman at the desk stood up immediately and upon seeing the blood coming from the shirt and the person he was holding and called for help.

‘Put her down here-‘ The woman pulled a bed out of a room nearby and rolled it to his side.

He couldn’t let you go. He looked over your eye lids and watched your lips, those delicate pink lips-his jaw clenched as he looked down to the bed. He had told himself to put you down and let them take you, to help you to make you better. His muscles wouldn’t let the weight of you go, he didn’t want to be away from you again-

‘Sir, please we can get her into an OR. Put her down.’ The woman’s gentle but stern voice breaking his thoughts as he forced himself to gently set you down. He heard the air come from your lungs as he entirely let go, you were being rushed away from him and there was nothing more he could do.

It had felt like the minutes were taking hours to pass by as he waited, his panic never leaving him. After 3 or so hours his mind forced him to think about the events and what he could do. He knew that something had gone bad from the start with the markings on the door and the bathroom being beaten in, and called the only people he knew to call in a moment like this.

‘She’s getting help now mate, that’s what matters.’ Prices voice rang through the phone, not that Simon was listening much. He was pacing the small waiting room on the trauma floor while rubbing his hands over his face only to wipe them on his pants to rid of his sweat.

‘I-I should of been there.’ His breathing stammering, his voice hoarse from yelling through the house and the emergency room.

‘You got her there and now she’s getting help, you have to focus on that.’

Simon took a moment to sit in the chair in the room, only to stand again and resume his pacing. He had tried to explain what he had seen to Price, although the thoughts were fading and blurring as he tried to recall the details. He walked into the bathroom and saw you laying in a small pool of blood, a blade handle coming out of your abdomen. Your eyes shut as you lay motionless, unresponsive to him picking you up or yelling your name. The phone near the tub with your blood smeared on it, and your fragile face cut and bruised down and across the neck.

He now looked down to his free hand at the blood that had stained it, quickly looking away and pushing his hand in his pocket. A spark of rage had been ignited inside of him at the thought of someone doing this. Rage that was unlike any other he had known for himself, though for now it was tamed by the feeling of panic and concern for you-which came above all else. Recalling it made him feel sick again as he heard the voice in the phone once more speaking to him.

‘We’re going to do all that we can from our end, and I promise you-you will hear anything that we get over here. You need to stay put and wait for-‘ The line went dead as Simon ended the call. The doctor was headed to the waiting room and as he stopped pacing to face him, he spoke.

‘Are you Simon Riley?’ Simon was trying to read his expression for any indicator to your wellbeing before remembering to respond.

‘Yes that’s me- how is she. How is Y/N?’ His breath was caught in his chest with anticipation as he stared daggers into the doctor’s eyes.

The man in the white recognized Simons panic and lowered his clip board, to look and speak to him directly.

‘She’s stable.’ Simons entire body felt a surge of momentary relief as he sat down into a nearby chair, letting the breath he had been holding escape. The doctor gave him a moment to breathe before continuing to speak.

‘It wasn’t an easy surgery by any means.’ Simons eyes shot up to meet the mans-he had never been so focused, the concern again rising in his mind as the doctor continued.

‘She’s going to need quite some time to recover after this, were you injured at all?’ The doctor looked over his blood stained shirt and hands. Simon protested that he was fine and that he had found you and not been involved in the incident. He accepted this response for the time being and began to talk about the procedure using terms that Simon didn’t entirely understand. He wasn’t listening to all of the details and complexions of the things they were doing to you, it had only made himself feel worse.

The doctor tried to ask about the situation that caused it or how it had happened- questions that he couldn’t think to answer. As he had seen it many times before, the doctor gave Simon time, telling him that she would hopefully be able to have visitors in a few hours.

Before leaving, the doctor added that if he wanted to, Simon could leave a phone number to contact him for when she was ready, and he had the option to leave until then. He wouldn’t move. He didn’t go to the bathroom, he didn’t eat, he didn’t drink until he was able to see you. He found himself staring at a movie playing, not taking in anything that was happening but distracting himself from the situation. The movie had ended and begun another as he felt his eyes begin to close, he heard the distant voice of a man that awoke him instantly.

‘Simon?’ He shot up out of the chair he had been in trying to locate who was talking to him, his heart jumping to an alarming rate. He spun around to find that same doctor as before was again coming towards him, his breath was caught in his throat.

‘I found it important to update you myself on Y/N. There was a complication with one of her sutures after we had gotten her closed up, she’s lost quite a bit of blood tonight and we-‘

‘Is she alright?’ Simon’s body had gone practically numb, his low gruff voice almost yelling out of his chest. He wasn’t able to be patient anymore, he wasn’t able to give the time to wait even to finish a sentence to hear if you were okay. His eyes again staring into the doctors, flickering between the two.

‘She’s just about stable again, but she won’t be seeing anyone for a few more hours at least. Whatever it was that happened put a lot of stress on her body, more than we anticipated.’ The doctor paused for Simon to add any input he had on the situation to the conversation, but to no avail.

Simon had been standing to speak to the doctor and when told it would be a longer wait, again planted himself in the chair. This time his arms sitting on his legs he let his head fall between his knees, his adrenaline coming back to him. Listening to the beat of his heart pound in his head, moments later he felt a light tap on his shoulder breaking his trance, looking up to see a white cone cup the doctor was handing him. He looked past the man at first to the water machine, then taking it into his own hands.

He thanked the doctor for updating him as he nestled again into the chair that held him up as he waited through the night. He didn’t care how long it took, as long as he would be able to see you. He finished another movie, not bothering with anything that was happening as people came in and out of the waiting room, or as people scurried by to get to another wing of the hospital. Spending most of the night pacing the small room or sitting and bouncing his leg, thanking the passing nurses who came to check on him seeing his blood ridden shirt. Although not by his choice, exhaustion forced his body to slip into a light sleep, one that he was fond of when on duty. The next morning he jolted awake as a nurse tapped lightly on his arm.

‘Y/N is asking to see you in room 412, you are Simon Riley aren’t you?’ She stepped back from the large man that had made such sudden movements, only to point down the hall to where the room was.

Without another word he got up and practically sprinted to room 412 leaving any bit of exhaustion in the chair, only slowing to move past doctors and other patients being transported.

He didn’t want anything to keep you from him-yet, he found himself still as stone when trying to move for the door handle to your room. His heart was beating faster than he thought possible as he pulled in a shaking breath and felt the cold metal of the handle. He pushed open the door and walked in the room where he saw you again. This time bandaged and wrapped in blankets, but alive.

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webdollzz · 2 days

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a/n:..I'm really sorry for this. I don't know what provoked me to make this.

warnings: MAJOR angst, major death, husband!simon ghost riley x wife!reader, descriptions of vomiting. that's all without spoiling it. TW! do not read if death is a sensitive subject :(

you were dancing in your kitchen, tasting your food as you made it — Simons favourite. he was home from deployment today, four long weeks away from him making your mind spin in anticipation. You're making his favourite, of course, as there is no better way to welcome your husband home than with a big kiss and a hot meal. Stirring the pot, singing along to the music, blissfully unaware on how Simon's body lays cold as he is transported home.

Hearing a soft knock at the door, you frown, as he would have his keys. you turn off your music, turning the stove down to a low heat before going to the door. you open it with a smile, which quickly wavers as you see Johnny stood behind it.

A solider that isn't your husband outside your door is never good news, is it?

But you pull yourself together, ignoring the sudden dread and knowing beneath your heart.

"Hey, Soap...what's up?" you asked quietly, cautiously as you took a step back to allow him in. he walked in, looking around. the guilt bubbling in his throat as he knows he's about to destroy your entire life — pulling down from where it had been built up. He just stared at you quietly, the looks of knowing and recognition in each others eyes.

You shook your head gently, resisting the premature tears that began welling up. "Is he —..." You stopped yourself, raising your hand to your slowing heart, feeling the coolness of your engagement and wedding ring touch your skin. the skin he'd kiss, love, caress. Johnny just bit back the lump in his throat, glancing off quickly before looking back at you.

"I'm so sorry.." is all it took for your heart to be ripped from your chest, quick shakes of your head as your face scrunched. you stared at him, praying for just one moment you could see a hint of a joke, a lie, a cruel prank patterned in his eyes, only to see such regret, guilt, and grief behind them. your knees give out, causing Soap to reach out and hook an arm around your torso to support you as you began wailing, gripping the skin of your chest where your heart lies, feeling it shatter to pieces beneath your hand. You felt sick — you couldn't breathe. Your husband, everything you knew, ripped away from you in just three simple words. I'm so sorry. You sobbed against Johnny, who was now admittedly crying along with you.

He sunk down to the ground, gently pulling you towards him. "M'so sorry...there was nothin' that we could —...that we could do. He was..gone when we got there."

the words from Soap made you wail louder, your eyes burning, head spinning, your heart absolutely shattered.

He died alone. In pain, with no one by his side to let him know that it's okay, that he'll be okay. That you'll be okay. Just him and the now blood covered, creased photograph of your wedding day. you leaned over, coughing as stomach acid made its way out of your throat, making Soap nod and pull your hair back, his arm tightening around you.

"Okay, s'alright. Let's get you to the bathroom, ay?" He whispered softly, scooping you to your feet and guiding your sobbing and wailing self to the bathroom. how would it be alright?

you just lost your husband before you could ever tell him he'd be a father.

#simon ghost riley #TW: widowry #tw: death #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley angst #simon riley angst #ghost angst #cod mw2

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garrickslvt · 2 days

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1000 follower special

i just want to say thank you for all the support!

—————————

simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader smut

—————————

i’m bent over, leaning into the bonnet of the truck when i feel a pair of rough, calloused hands snake around my waist.

i immediately know it’s my boyfriend, simon riley.

i stand up straight, wipe my grease covered hands on a nearby rag and turn around so we’re chest to chest. i snake my arms around his neck and look up at him lovingly.

with a deep husky voice, simon whispers “i’d have you right here, right now if i could”

a shiver runs down my spine and i smile, whispering back “who said you couldn’t?”

with that, simon pushes me up against the truck by my hips, smashing his lips against mine in a heated kiss.

his hips press against mine, pinning me to the truck and giving me the friction i want.

i let out a little whine and simon takes that as the signal to pick me up, brush all my tools off my work bench and sit me down on it, standing between my thighs.

he kisses down from my lips, to my jaw, to my neck. he nibbles and licks over my neck, leaving little marks on my skin.

i let out a string of whines and moans, my hands coming up to simon’s hair to tug it gently.

simon groans against my neck before he starts unbuckling my trousers. he slides his hand into my pants and pushes two fingers into me. my eyes roll back and i bite down on simon’s shoulder to muffle my noises.

“let me hear your sweet noises, baby” simon whispers as he pumps his two fingers in and out of me.

i let his shoulder out of my mouth and let my head fall back as i moan and whine. i dig my nails into the back of his scalp as my back arches.

i get closer and closer to cumming as simon fucks his fingers into my hole. my hole clenches around his fingers and he speeds up his movements, pushing me over the edge. i cum around his fingers with a loud moan.

i fall forward, my head landing on his shoulder and i whisper “thank you, si”.

he chuckles and pulls his hand out of my pants. he kisses my forehead and holds me close to him

#cod smut #mw2 smut #mw3 smut #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #call of duty smut #cod x reader smut #smut #gn!reader #gn reader #gn reader smut

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bobafetts-princess · 1 day

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Surprise: The Sequel

Pairings: Ghost x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2800

Warnings: PiV, we wrap shit up in this one, a little butt stuff, spit kink, biting, cursing, choking. Reader is a little subby here. This is a fic centered on the reader ovulating and being really horny. Heed warnings accordingly.

Author notes: Yes, this was written when I personally was ovulating and I needed an outlet. Please enjoy 😊

Companion piece to Surprise

“My back fucking hurts,” you grumble to yourself, not really meaning for anyone to hear. But Soap, with his fucking bat ears, does.

“Wan’ me to massage it for yah?” He drawls in his thick Scottish accent. He’s been eying you all day and you can’t figure out why. You’re not dressed any different, you didn’t do your hair any different. You didn’t flirt with him, at least anymore than normal. Soap is the type of guy you can flirt with without realizing it. He’s soft and easy-going with a big personality and the ability to make anyone feel special.

“Mind your business, Soap,” snaps Simon-Ghost-Lieutenant (you’re not really sure what to call him anymore) as he comes in the door. You’re sitting at a desk, writing reports on your latest mission and Soap is at his desk on the left of yours, writing his own.

“Aye L.T. But I do feel like her business is my business,” he chuckles and Ghost flicks him a look as he gets up.

“Why’s your back hurt, Blue?” Ghost asks, hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Not sure, L.T.,” you say but then a cramp hits your lower belly. It’s not your period, definitely not your period, that was two weeks ago. So this means- “Damnit,” you curse under your breath.

“What’s wrong?” Both men ask at the same time, Soap moving to stand by Ghost. Another cramp hits your stomach and you have to stifle a groan.

“Nothing important,” you tell them both but they don’t believe you. But Price walks in, looking for an update on the reports and the subject is dropped. He’s standing over your shoulder and you don’t miss the way he keeps looking down at you, the easy way he smiles at you.

“Looking good today, Blue. Did you do something different with your hair?” Price mentions and you know he doesn’t mean it to be creepy. He’s genuinely trying to be nice and give you a compliment, you don’t get many when your literal job is to commit crimes for the sake of queen and country. But you know the real reason he’s looking at you different.

Your ovulation cycle hits harder than your menstruation cycle, the older you get. Your cramps are worse and men tend to notice you more. They flirt with you easier, they check you out with more purpose. Your skin clears and has this tone to that makes you look perpetually flustered. It’s all very flattering but also, quite annoying. Biology is doing its work, but you don’t want it to. The thing that drives you most insane is that you preen under the attention. You like being noticed when you’re ovulating. You like the way Ghosts eyes are dragging across your hips. You like the easy smile Johnny gives you when he’s flirting. You like the way Price’s eyes struggle to stay in their rightful place.

“Nah, just brushed it this morning, that’s all Captain,” there’s a flash of something in his eyes when you call him by his rank but you can’t unpack it right now. You stand, surprising Price and mumble “I’ll be back,” before you bolt.

Ghost waits an appropriate amount of time before he follows, shoving back his chair with some lame excuse so he can follow you.

He finds you in seconds, heading down the hallway in the general direction of his quarters. As a lieutenant, he gets his own space and as he watches your hips sway he’s thankful for it.

“Blue,” he calls out and you still.

“Not now, Ghost,” you say but you don’t move. His long strides catch up to you in no time and his hand presses into your back.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, and you sigh.

“I’m ovulating,” you tell him, pressing into his hand and relishing the feel of his warmth.

“What’s that mean?” He knows that’s your fertile period and you can get pregnant but he’s not sure on the specifics.

“I’m so horny,” you whine, twisting your neck to look up at him and he wants to dip down and run his nose alone the soft skin there. It takes your words a second to click but when they do, he’s shoving you down the hallway and into his room, locking the door behind him.

———————————

Ghost has you on your knees and you’re taking him. Your pussy is slick with your orgasms and your back is slick with sweat. You’re dropped down to your chest on the bed, fingers gripping the sheets as you cry out. It’s not helping though, because every one of Simon’s powerful thrusts pushes you up the bed.

“This fuckin’ pussy,” he snarls from under his mask. Since that day in the shower you’ve had this tryst going on regularly and it’s been satisfying for the both of you. “Fuck, you take me so well,” he grunts as his hand presses into your shoulders to hold you down. “Love when you submit to me,” he says but you think you can take it a step further. You move your hands from the sheets to behind your back, gripping your forearms as your face presses into the bed. Simon groans deeply as he slides his hand down your back to press down on your forearms. “Look so pretty takin’ my cock like this, Blue,” he snarls and you know he’s getting close. You’ve already cum several times, so you’re not concerned about finishing when he does, but Simon is. His hips ratchet up a notch and you hear the distinctive sound of something in Simon’s mouth. You’re about to peek over your shoulder to see what he’s doing when his thick thumb presses up against your asshole. You gasp and still underneath him as he presses circles into the tight ring.

“I’d love to watch you take me here,” he grunts before he pushes his thumb in. Your whole body tenses but you’re pinned. His hands are still pressing your own into your lower back and his finger in your ass is up to the first knuckle. You’re going to lose your mind, you can’t even scream because your face is pressed into the mattress. He continues pressing until he’s got his whole thumb in your ass and you’re gone. You’re so full, so thoroughly worked over that you when Ghost-Simon-whatever you’re calling each other these days, picks up his thrusts you’re blind with pleasure.

He’s putting you through the mattress, his hulking body pressing yours down. You break first, your body clamping down as you cum. He’s so heavy, so thick, and you’re so overwhelmed but Ghost isn’t done yet. He’s growling deep in his throat, snarling something about what a good little slut you are for him and you know he’s right at the edge of breaking. You feel something sharp against your shoulder and it takes you a few seconds to realize he sank his teeth into the soft flesh. He’d apparently never pulled his mask down after he’d wet his thumb and you feel his tongue soothe the sharp sting his bite left. You lay like that for a second, Ghost’s body laying across yours as you both pant with the exertion. Simon’s tongue licks a hot trail across your shoulder and up your neck, stopping at your ear.

“You’re a good fuck, Blue. Y’know that?” You laugh aloud because any kind of compliment coming from Simon Riley is noteworthy.

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself,” you flash a grin at him as he peels off of you, moving to dispose the condom. He comes back and his mask is still pushed up to his nose and his grin would’ve knocked you over if you weren’t already laying down.

“Not so bad, eh? Do I need to split you apart on my cock again so you know how good I can be?” He chuckles, dark and dangerous as he crawls on the bed and stares down at you. His huge hand finds your throat, squeezing and reminding you just how dangerous he can be. But the only thing you feel right now is another how streak of lust through your nerve endings. Your nipples are tight and when he flicks them, a sharp gasp escapes your mouth. Ghost takes the opportunity at hand and pulls you up to him by the throat, shoving his tongue in your mouth. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed but it’s one of the only. You can feel him hardening against your thigh and you can feel how slick you are. His fingers squeeze as he trails his lips down your neck, over where his thumb is digging into the soft flesh.

You’re aching, ready to be filled again, when Ghost speaks in your ear.

“I want to taste you, Blue,” he grunts but you shake your head as best you can with his hand wrapped around your throat.

“Later. Want your cock,” you tell him and he nods, releasing you to get another condom. You desperately want to tell him not to use one, but you are smack in the middle of ovulating and the risk of pregnancy is much higher than if you weren’t. You’re not in a place where you can have a baby and you don’t think Simon is ready to be a father, he may not ever be. But god, the idea of dripping with his cum all day? It’s got you clenching between your legs.

Simon has the condom on, cock swinging between his thick thighs. He’d only managed to get his pants down to his knees the first time and the second time won’t be any different. He’s got a long sleeve shirt on bearing the British Army flag on it and even without all his tac gear he’s huge. Tall and bulky, with a menacing edge to him, you can see why people are terrified. But right now, all you are is horny. He slides between your thighs, lifting your hips and placing a pillow underneath them.

“Gonna take me?” He asks, circling a finger over your clit. You nod but he’s not content with that. “I asked you if you were going to take me, I expect an answer,” he growls from under his mask, pulled back down now.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you breathe as he presses the head of his cock into you.

“Yes, Lieutenant, what?” He snaps, one hand on your tit, the other on the base of his cock.

“Yes, Lieutenant,-“ you gasp as he pushes into you.

“Go on,” he prompts, almost all the way in now. “Or I won’t fuck you. You can lay here and be my pretty little cock sleeve,” you clench around him, wishing he’d wrap one of those big hands around your throat again.

“Yes, Lieutenant, I’m gonna take all of your cock. Please, I want to take all of your cock.”

“Good girl,” he growls, low in your ear as his hand wraps back around your throat. His thrusts start slow but it doesn’t take long before he’s hitching one thigh up his back, the other pressing you down and pushing you to your limits. He’s more vocal this time, grunts and growls as he sits back on his heels to give himself more leverage. He’s got to be sensitive, it’s the second time in less than 30 minutes, and it shows. His fingers tighten every couple thrusts until you nearly can’t breathe but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. The other hand finds your tits, groping them and pulling at your nipples. He presses the thumb of the hand around your neck into your jaw until your mouth pops open. He pulls the mask above his mouth, leaning down, his eyes wide with question and you nod at him, sticking your tongue out in invitation. He gathers in his mouth before he leans down, spitting directly into your mouth before he closes your jaw and speaks.

“Swallow it.” You do as he asks, opening your mouth again and sticking out your tongue to show him. He groans deeply, gathering his spit again and spitting on your tongue. This time though, he keeps his thumb pressed into the hinge of your jaw so you don’t close it. “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he snarls, his accent thicker as he pounds into you, “take everythin’ I fuckin’ give ya, don’t ya?” You nod desperately at him, mouth still open, tongue still covered in his spit. “Fuck yeah, ya do. I’m goin’ to cum, I know you’re close.” You nod at him again, pussy tightening as he spits into your mouth again, closing your jaw and telling you to swallow.

“Next time you’re gonna swallow my cum jus’ like that,” he tells you before he leans back, pressing a thumb against your clit. It only takes one, two, three swipes of his thumb before you’re over the edge, crying out his name and clinging to the hand still wrapped around your throat. He follows right along with you, slumping his heavy body against yours. “This will never get old,” he says as he rolls to the side slightly, still laying on you but not quite with his full weight.

“Yeah,” you agree, out of breath and worn down. Finally sated.

“Is it always like this when you ovulate?” He asks, picking himself up and disposing of the condom, for the second time. You nod as he comes back and picks up your underwear off the floor.

“It gets worse as I get older, like evolution is telling me to get a move on.” You stand as Simon holds your hand and helps you into your panties. “My cramps get worse and I get almost unbearably horny,” you tell him as he hunts down your tac pants and helps you into those too. He chuckles as he finds your sports bra, slipping it over your head.

“Maybe you should pop out a kid or two,” and your jaw drops.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll drop my whole life and have babies! Ruin my career, my tits, everything I’ve worked for just to give evolution the middle finger!” You exclaim, annoyed he’d even suggest it. But he’s fully laughing, searching for your shirt under the bed.

“I’s a joke, love. You don’t take those as well as you take my cock,” he husks, finding the army green tank and slipping it over your head. “Besides, it would be a shame to ruin these perfect tits,” he tells you, standing behind you and cupping said perfect tits. Fuck, you didn’t think you could go again but the way his thumbs are brushing over your nipples right now is making you question that. “Well, we better get back to writin’ our reports. Price’ll wonder why we’ve been gone so long,” he says, slapping you on the ass and striding out the door. You’re left panting and annoyed, but you follow after a reasonable amount of time and when you make it back to your desk, Soap is standing next to it looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Aye, lass. Y’look good today. Exceptional even,” he drawls, and if you weren’t rolling your eyes you’d have noticed his own flick over to Ghost to gauge his reaction.

“Get off my desk, Johnny.”

“Will do, but would ya like t’have a drink with me tonight?” He’s leaned down, in your space, his bright eyes full of mischief.

“No.” You tell him, you’re not really annoyed with him but you are frustrated because Ghost left you horny and every bit as distracted as you were before he fucked you stupid. Your hand flashes out and connects with the inside of Soaps elbow, knocking him off his balance. Ghost chuckles from behind you at his own desk.

“Might wanna leave the girl alone, Johnny. I think she could kick your ass,”

“Ooh I might like that,” Johnny says, not fazed at all that you hit him. Ghost has to suppress a groan at the idea of watching you and Johnny wrestling for dominance. He’s pretty sure you would win and the idea of you fucking Johnny stupid the way he fucks you stupid has him hardening in his pants.

“Johnny,” you start, your voice all sugar sweet and sticky. “Can you do something for me?” Your tone is full of promise and Johnny’s eyes droop as he mutters a gentle ‘of course, lass’

“Go get me some Tylenol and coffee, Johnny,” you say, smacking him upside the head. Simon barks a laugh from behind you, and Johnny looks graciously indignant.

“Aye, lass. Whatever you want,” he’s no actually offended, but he played the part well. Off he slinks, to retrieve the items you’ve asked for and Ghost feels a rush of relief that he’s not the only person in this compound that cares for you.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod smut #call of duty smut

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gloomwitchwrites · 1 day

Note

1k challenge request- what is Ghost like on vacation? NSFW always preferred lol

Ghostie on vacation? Vacation?!? Yes, please. Funny enough, Ghost is currently on vacation in Ink & Needle, and that boy is being naughty in that AU. But that’s not what we’re talking about here. Thanks for sending this in! I hope you enjoy it (and the steamy bits).

Most of these are gn!reader with one or two exceptions!

Word Count: 729

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

Do y’all remember the bit of banter between Soap, Ghost, and Laswell in MW3? And Ghost replies “why not both?” when it comes to whether they prefer the beach or snow. To me, that means Ghost is down for anything. He’ll take a road trip or a week-long stay in Bali. Man just loves a good vacation.

On that note, when Ghost and Soap were being a bit cheeky about the “tan lines around the eyes,” he insinuates he wears the mask, but I don’t believe that. When Simon isn’t in the field, he’s not going to wear his mask, especially on vacation. He’d stick out like a sore thumb.

If Simon is taking a vacation with his S/O, he’s really down for anything. It can be simple and romantic. It could be camping. Hell, you could drag him to Disneyworld and he’d probably still enjoy himself.

However, he’s very much controlling when it comes to traveling. He’s the Dad in this scenario. He packs in advance, he wakes up way too early to go to the airport, he checks to make sure the plane is actually at the gate, he keeps the schedule, and Simon isn’t necessarily going to just “go with the flow” in the moment. Simon is the one holding the passports and tickets. God help you if you try to seize them from him.

No mask. Period. And no work. Simon isn’t taking phone calls, emails, or anything else. Price can deal with any shenanigans on his own.

Terrible about putting on sunscreen. You’re always making sure he’s protecting his skin.

Most of the spending money is spent on feeding Simon. Dude is a brick wall and he’s always eating. And when he’s not eating something, he’s buying you whatever you want.

If the vacation requires driving, Simon prefers taking his own vehicle or renting one. He doesn’t skimp here. Simon will select a reputable rental car company and select something roomy.

Holds you accountable on everything, but is also incredibly indulgent. You might complain that something is expensive and you won’t get it, and Simon will say good on you for sticking to your guns, but he’ll also just fucking buy it anyway because he can’t help seeing you smile.

Vacations (or rather holidays) are Simon’s one opportunity to forget everything. He can spend time with you completely uninterrupted. No life shit. No work shit. Just you and him.

Enjoys the outdoors but is also down for exploring cities, walking through museums, and trying new things. Simon is open to exploring a culture he’s never interacted with before, especially if he’s doing it with you.

Likes to travel and go on vacation during off-seasons. Simon isn’t a fan of crowds and it’s not from an anxiety standpoint. That military training is hard to dislodge, and he’s often overly aware of potential threats in a crowd.

Has a terrible sweet tooth. Simon will eat more desserts than actual food if you’re not watching him.

Loves long road trips because he enjoys all the lazy blow jobs you give him while in the car. Sometimes he has to pull over and just have his way with you.

Basically, you and Simon are fucking regardless of where you are.

Going on a destination vacation to a beachy oasis? Simon is fucking you in the cabana, in the hotel room, in the private pool, under a waterfall. Sometimes it might be lazy and slow, and sometimes he’s just chasing his own end and needs to be inside you.

Camping? That tent is seeing some action. You’re little spoon. Simon is big spoon. And he probably has his cock buried deep inside you, rocking his hips lazily while is hand is playing with other parts of you.

But he’s smart not to fuck out in the wilderness. Bug bites are the fucking worse.

In the cabin in the Pacific Northwest? He’s fucking you by the fire while it rains outside.

Simon’s intimacy and romantic side really flourishes during this time. Because there are no outside distractions, he’s able to put his entire focus on you. Along with the sex, Simon is simply an attentive partner. While he’s here to enjoy himself, he is also highly aware of your needs.

Hates when the two of you have to go back to the real world. Would rather disappear with you forever.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36

@miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @sapphichotmess @enfppuff

@cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06

@haven-1307 @therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk

@thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos

@enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666

@lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67

@contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg

@webmvie @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe

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aye-jaye-2005 · 2 days

Text

are there any other gay/achellian men out there who feel very starved of mlm fanfic, specifically for könig, ghost, any of those big ass masked men?

was thinking about writing some and would like some thoughts...

#call of duty #cod #konig cod #konig #konig x male reader #konig smut #ghost cod #ghost #ghost x male reader #ghost smut #mask kink

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vnards · 2 days

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When Ghost is in trouble...

Price leaves Simon there, making his way back to his lighter to light his still unlit cigar. The Captain began to grumble under his breath as his frustrations continue to heighten. He sits to take a load off his feet. “Cap-“ “Shut up. I don't want to hear a word come out of your mouth, is that understood?” A beat of silence. Price smirked as he took his first hit, “Good boy.” He takes another hit. “’s about time you listened.” Ghost didn't say anything. Price began to unbutton his belt and pants, sighing with the pressure of no longer being compressed together. He reveals his cock and balls, heavy with all the frustrations he’s been struggling with for the last few days. There was no hiding the way Simon's eye examined it. “Here.” Simon starts to stand, “—no, no.” John doesn't give him any direction, knowing Simon doesn't need it. Because Simon knows who he belongs to. Ghost grumbles, but he begins to crawl to Price. John lazily smokes as he watches Lieutenant Ghost finally listening. When Simon is within grabbing distance, John moves swiftly and grips him by the back of the neck, shoving his face down to his boots. ” You’ve been running around my base yelling at officers and picking fights left and right. And for what? Because you forget who holds your leash?” He hisses, his tone low and threatening. The man on his knees suddenly has nothing to say, barely struggles against the grip on his neck pinning him down, forcing him eye to eye with his captain’s shiny black boots. John notices the quiet. A grin breaks around the cigar in his mouth, “The big bad Ghost doesn’t want to fight anymore, hm?” A teasing sneer, “All because he wanted Daddy’s attention.” That’s when the lieutenant comes back to life, the accusation warming Ghost’s cheeks. He tries to sit back up, but Price is prepared. “Oh, no, no…” The chuckle John lets out adds to the color in Ghost’s cheeks. “You don’t get to act all high and mighty now.” Satisfied with Simon’s shame, John leans back in his chair once again, putting his cigar back in his mouth and moves his pants further down. His proud member on display. He grips himself in his hand and starts to stroke himself, finding an even, yet pleasurable pace. Simon can’t help but watch his captain’s heavy shaft cause his eyes to roll back, releasing all the stress from the day. Stress that Ghost made. Desire began building under Simon’s skin. The want to help, to cause Price pleasure instead of frustration, nearly springs forward. But, Price trained Ghost better than that. John takes in the desperation in the kneeling man’s eyes. He knows that desire is there. He knows what he wants and takes the extra pleasure in not giving it to him. “What is it, boy? This what you’ve been craving all day?” Simon shakes his head in denial. Price growls, one of his boots gently pressing down on the bulge Simon is failing to hide. “Use your words,” frustration continues to lick up his spine. “No.” The hand that isn’t stroking him, reaching out and grips Simon’s hair under the mask, tilting his neck at an awkward angle, forcing eye contact. “No, what? “No, sir.” John is finally pleased. Melting back in his throne as he continues stroking his cock, his toe still on the Lieutenant’s. “Finally, a dog who remembers who owns them.” Simon bristles a bit at all. There’s been an itch under his skin he hasn’t been able to scratch.

masterlist

#captain john price #cod mw2 #vnardshoard #simon ghost riley #price smut #ghost smut #ramblings

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honey-riley · 2 days

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Love You To Death || S.R.

WARNINGS: Military themes, guns, weapons, violence, detailed gore, mentions of Simon's past.

A/N: This contains an OC :) her name is Honey Tailer (my user is after her 🫡), she's German, so I hope you brought your google translate or other translators. There are more descriptors of her in the story itself <3

A/N pt.2: I'm learning German, and for most of the dialog in German, I use a translator. So, if anything is incorrect in German, don't behead me pls.

wc: 5.9k

War.

That's all that ever ran through him. A traumatized, mean, brooding war machine. Ever since he was little, that's all he could remember. The war within his household, the constant abuse that his father passed around. The constant abuse he endured as a child had profound and lasting effects on him. It shaped his worldview, eroded his sense of self-worth, and left him with deep emotional scars that manifested in his brooding and mean demeanor. The war within his household became the war within himself, and it consumed him every day.

He had never truly felt warmth. Sure, he had happy moments, moments where he could forget the trauma, moments where the gray cloud looming above him would clear. But only for a moment. He was human after all. The impact of his traumatic childhood on his relationships was profound. He struggled to form deep connections with others, always keeping them at arms length, afraid of being hurt again. His fear of vulnerability and his need for control made it difficult for him to trust and open up to others, resulting in a cycle of loneliness and isolation.

Riddling himself with routines, sticking to schedules, running everything in a timely, comfortable manner is what he loves. What he thrived on. It was something that he knew he could rely on. Every morning, he would wake up at the exact same time, following a strict routine that he had meticulously planned out. From the moment he opened his eyes to the moment he closed them again at night, every minute of his day was accounted for. He found solace in the predictability of his schedule, as it provided a sense of control and stability in a chaotic world. His routines became his lifeline, a way for him to regain some semblance of order in his life and protect himself from the unpredictable nature of human interactions.

So, the day that someone broke that routine for him, that was a day that he was going to remember.

Preparing for a mission, he went in with his normal routine - shower, get his gear on, put the mask on, prepare mentally, head to base, scan in, have breakfast, pack his tactical vest, check his gear, clean his weapons, and head out to the chopper by 0400.

This time, when he got to the chopper, there was a new face. Striking green eyes, long black hair that was slicked back into a regulatory military bun, fair skin, and God, was she short. Standing at four feet, eleven inches, just barely meeting the height requirements.

"Lieutenant." Laswell nodded as he approached. "This is Sergeant Honey Tailer, hope you don't mind her joining you today." She added with a smile. Ghost stuck his hand out for Honey to shake, which she accepted, giving him a firm shake back.

He took in her appearance one more time, noting her black, polished boots, her uniform, which wasn't digital camo, but more like spotted camo. She had a German flag on her shoulders and on her tactical vest.

"My pleasure, Lieutenant." She smiled softly, her German accent apparent in her words. It wasn't strong, it was subtle, she sounded like she had been speaking English her entire life - but she hadn't.

"It's great to meet you, Sergeant." He nodded, releasing her hand.

"Honey's going to be your DM for today. She'll provide surveillance, make sure you guys keep your heads." Laswell grinned as she looked over at Honey. DM, or designated marksman, was a good position to be in - a position that they needed in the team.

The team then loaded into the chopper, strapping into their seats. Honey's rifle sat on her chest, the barrel pointing to the tin floor of the chopper as she looked out of the window. She stared off, lost in thought, devising a plan on how she would go about this. It was an in and out mission, quick and easy - if things went according to plan.

Honey would provide recon and examine from a distance, while the team went in, gathering intel, hopefully going undetected, then Soap would plant the bombs, they would all get back onto the chopper, where Soap would detonate them.

"You'll do just fine, kid." Price's gruff voice snapped her out of thought as he patted her on the shoulder. Honey shot him a small, tight lipped, slightly nervous smile. She was used to this kind of stuff, but to work with a team she had never met, find her groove all over again, and to do it in time, was nerve wracking.

"This isn't your first time, right?" Ghost grunted as he looked over at her, his voice deep, almost like a growl.

"No, sir. I've been deployed multiple times." She replied with a nod.

Ghost took that in an almost snooty, stuck up way. Like she was so young, and she had all this experience, and she sounded like she was bragging about it. That irked him.

Instead of saying anything, he stayed quiet, crossing his arms over his chest. To pass the time, Honey put her AirPods in, and turned on some music, letting out a small sigh as she leaned back into her chair.

There was something about her that Ghost didn't find appealing. Something about her annoyed him, but he couldn't tell what it was.

The metallic sound of her ring clanking against her rifle as she tapped her fingers to the beat of the song she was listening to only made his annoyance grow.

"Wha' song are ye listenin' to?" Soap asked, nudging her.

"Oh, Love You To Death by Type O Negative." Honey said, looking over at him with a small smile.

"Damn, gothic stuff." Soap chuckled, cuing Honey to nod. "Yer pal, Ghostie over there loves that kind of music." Soap chuckled, nodding towards Ghost, making him let out a small scoff.

Not only was Honey now annoying him, she also had the same taste in music? That felt like it wasn't going to fly with him for whatever reason. He was already annoyed that his routine had been disrupted, and now, her presence alone annoyed him more.

"Alright, team. We're landing in Verdansk, just to refresh, you are to take out Makarov. He's in a highly guarded area, with plenty of people surrounding him." Laswell said over the comms.

"Copy." Honey replied, letting out a small sigh. She was the one who was tasked with disturbing the hive - taking out Makarov. She had already been filled in on why they needed him dead, and all the other necessary things such as his identity, where he would be at, his rank, what he looked like.

Once the chopper landed Price divided everyone into partners, and one trio. Ghost and Honey were tasked with surveillance. Ghost was Honey's spotter.

'I'm gonna be stuck with this annoying, snooty, stuck up bitch?' Ghost thought to himself. He kept his opinions inward, thankfully. Usually, with new recruits, he was very vocal about his disdain for them. This time, he kept his mouth shut, just wanting to get the mission done quicker.

Honey established a sniper's nest, and laid on the roof of the building opposite of where the team would be infiltrating.

"What's the drag?" Honey whispered, looking through her iron sights, ready to set her rifle up.

"Not a clue." Ghost grunted as he looked through the scope of his own rifle, adjusting accordingly. He did know, he just wanted her to struggle a bit, make her more 'human' in his eyes.

"You're no help." Honey muttered under her breath, looking down her iron sights again. She glanced over at Ghost for a moment, turning to her own rifle, contemplating something.

She deftly reached over, sliding the scope off of his rifle.

'Now she's trying to fuck with my gear?' Ghost scorned in his own mind. He looked over at her, his brows furrowed under his mask before he snatched his scope back, sliding it back on.

"Du erzeugst ein Glitzern." She growled, taking it back off.

"English." Ghost muttered under his breath, starting to get pissed off.

"You're creating a glint. There's people in that building that can see you because of your scope." She growled, looking over at the moon for a second before looking back at him. She subtly lifted her hand, pointing at the opposing building, and indeed, a faint reflection from the scope could be seen if you knew where to look.

He let out an audible scoff, rolling his eyes. He adjusted his rifle, getting used to just using his iron sights.

"It's a 42 meter separation, the wind is blowing south-east. We're facing north-west. The wind is 6 knots. Light breeze." He replied, telling her what she would need to adjust her rifle.

"Any visuals on Makarov?" Laswell said through the comms.

Honey glanced through a pair of binoculars for a second, seeing Makarov working at a table in an empty room, his back turned to the window.

"Positive. Black, short hair, suit, I can't tell how tall he is, but Ghost can verify that it's him." Honey replied through the comms. "It's him, Kate." Ghost muttered into the comms. "Permission to take the shot?" Honey asked Laswell.

"Granted." Laswell replied.

Honey put down the binoculars and Ghost picked them up, ready to watch Honey shoot Makarov.

Honey lined up her shot, calculating the drag, and the possible path that the bullet would take once it hit the glass. Doubt nibbled at the edges of her mind, raising its voice as her finger hovered over the trigger. But she pushed it away, reminding herself of the countless hours of training. She took a deep breath, pulling the rifle tight to her shoulder, holding her breath so that the shot was steady. She loaded her chamber, taking the rifle off of safety, and slowly squeezed the trigger.

Ghost's heart raced. He felt a pang of jealousy, mixed with a swirl of emotions. 'This should've been mine,' He thought, his chest tightening. 'This is my team. What does she think she's doing, muscling in on my territory?' His fists clenched around the binoculars, sweat dripping from his temple.

The bullet shattered through the glass, sending a gory red mist into the air as Makarov's head exploded. Ghost's jaw clenched as his anger bubbled, the realization of what just happened setting in.

Honey laid her rifle down, staying on her stomach as she glanced over to Ghost. She could see the tension in his body, the balaclava clinging to his face with each heavy gasp for air. Unsure of how to respond to Ghost's obvious displeasure, she gave him a small, tight lipped, reassuring smile.

Ghost glared back, his eyes filled with the intensity of his rage. 'She's taken everything from me,' he thought. 'I can't let her win. I can't let her take this from me too.'

In the aftermath, the team sat in stunned silence, their gazes fixed on the lifeless body now sprawled on the floor. The reality of their success hung in the air, a weighty, shared accomplishment that lingered, tainted by Ghost's bitter resentment. This was a man that they had been tracking for years and Honey came in and shot him like it was nothing. Like it was the easiest thing in the world. And God, that smile afterwards pissed him off so much more.

'What the fuck is she doing? This was supposed to be my job. What the hell does she know about shooting?' Ghost fought with himself internally. He hated this. He ha=ted everything about her.

The pair watched as the team infiltrated the room, occasional gunfire sounding through the air. Honey watched as Soap went in, took a laptop and all the needed files, planting a few bombs on his way out.

Honey stood up, grabbing her rifle, unloading the chamber and putting it back onto safety. Ghost stood up as well, grabbing his own rifle, storming his way back down the flight of stairs to the ground floor.

"Ghost." Honey said as she followed him, her rifle slung over her back. He didn't bother waiting for her, or even listening to her. He silently stormed his way back to the chopper, getting in, and buckling himself up.

Honey set their things back where they belonged on the chopper, ensuring that nothing would fall out. There was an awkward silence as they waited for the rest of the team to get back to where the chopper was. Nikolai sat in the cockpit.

"How was the mission? You finally nail him?" Nikolai grinned, his thick Russian accent apparent in his words as he looked back through the door, glancing at Ghost.

"Honey did." Ghost muttered, his fists balled under his biceps as he crossed his arms. "Her shot was just luck." He added, looking outside of the chopper, avoiding eye contact. He knew it was more than luck - it was skill, but he didn’t want to admit it.

Honey winced at his words, looking over at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. She glanced away, keeping her eyes off of him. She had always been doubted. She had worked her entire life for this moment, and the entire time, she had been doubted. She didn't know why it even hurt at this point - she should've expected it. But, she was going to stand up for herself for once - even if it didn't work.

Honey looked at him, her brow furrowing. "Luck?" She asked, her voice slightly hurt. "I took the damn shot, calculated it. I did everything I needed to. And it's just luck? I’ve worked my entire life for this, I’ve worked my ass off. Making sure that I could make a damn shot." She added. Honey wanted to get frustrated, she wanted to argue, but she took a deep breath, keeping her mouth shut.

Ghost's jaw dropped slightly at her response. His glare softened, his unwavering anger faltering for the first time. He didn't know what to say to counter her words, her confidence - and for once, he found himself at a loss.

'All of my years of practicing, honing, just for it to be chalked up to luck? Fuck this guy.' Honey thought to herself, letting out a sigh. She wanted to be on this team, she had worked for it for years. She wanted to be on the top - the best of the best, and this was her chance. She wasn't going to ruin it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the rest of the team getting into the chopper, carrying files, laptops, and USB sticks. Everything that they could get their hands on that could be important, they took.

"Let's watch this puppy blow." Soap chuckled as he buckled into the chopper. Nikolai lifted the chopper off the ground, getting it a distance away before Soap pressed the button, making the entire building explode and collapse in on itself.

Honey watched as the orange and yellow flames licked the air, huge billows of smoke and debris shooting up into the air.

"Christ." Honey murmured, watching the smoke shoot up. The blast wave then hit the chopper, making it sway and vibrate. Nikolai quickly corrected, starting their flight back. The flight back to base was almost silent, everyone processing what had just happened, and why it had happened.

'Why was Honey the one to kill Makarov? Why was this new recruit the one who got to end the man we had fought to kill for years? And why was it so easy for her?' Ghost was furious at the thought of it.

'Why did she get the pleasure? The satisfaction?'

When they got back to base, Ghost just wanted to get his report filled and then think things through in his quarters, but of course, Laswell had other plans.

"You and Honey are bunking together." Laswell said as she opened the door to his quarters. Honey stood behind Laswell, her bag slung on her shoulder as well as a few other things in her hands - two pillows and a blanket.

"What about Soap?" Ghost asked, looking over at the other bed in the room - the bed where Soap slept. That side of the room was blank, Soap moved rooms.

"Soap bunked with Gaz. We don't have another room for Honey, so she's going with you." Laswell said, turning around and walking away. Honey came in quietly, her steps silent.

She placed her things on the bed, avoiding him. She busied herself with the task of getting her things set up - making the bed, putting her things in her dresser and closet.

"There are rules here." Ghost grunted as he watched her, his attention drawn away from his paperwork.

"Keep your shit on your side of the room, keep it clean, keep it neat, and don't talk to me." He added. Honey didn't do anything but nod as she folded her clothes. Pajamas, uniforms, dress uniforms, civilian clothes - they were all put away neatly.

There was something about her, something that kept his attention away from his paperwork. Something that kept him from focusing. Maybe it was the rage towards her, maybe it was the envy - there was something. Something that he hated. Something that Simon despised. Ghost hated it more.

What do we think of the first part, y'all? Do we love it? Hate it? Eh? Lmk what I can work on as well! My ask me is still open :))

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euno11a · 1 day

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oof-

Now you’ve touched yourself, it’s kinda hard not to when you have an insatiably hot boyfriend. The relationship isn’t extremely new, maybe a few months in, but not new new. You both have had phone sex, needing that sudden release when he was out on deployment. But every time you touch yourself, you do it only to the point when you begin orgasming. Key word: begin.

the mutual masturbation has been common for you two since the beginning really, letting yourselves reach that amazing peak. So the first time you two got a little tipsy and felt that need growing a wet patch on your panties, Simon knew what to do.

he fingered you, stretching out your wet and gummy walls for him, making sure that you would be able to fit him in your tight cunt. His low, guttural groans did nothing good for you, making your clit throb and hole clench around his fingers.

“Fuck, look a’ you. Takin’ my fingers so fuckin well.”

he groaned into your neck, his hand picking up the pace. The wet sounds from your slick filled the room, making your hands link around his neck and pull yourself closer to him. The tight feeling you get before cumming getting closer and closer.

“Si- Simon! Almost…almost the- ah!” You squealed into his neck, thighs tightening around his hips that held your legs open for him. His fingers quickened again, rubbing that slightly rigid spot inside you that made you mewl loudly.

When your orgasm hit, you expected him to stop, just like you always did. But when he didn’t, you arched your back and reached down to grip his wrist. “Simon! N-no, too much!” You screamed after you felt another surge of pleasure, making him finally stop.

you felt him pull away slightly, looking down at his lower abdomen that was glistening with liquid. He looked back at you with a dark look in his eyes. “Didn’t take ya for a squirter, love.”

the heat rose to your cheeks, voice coming out slightly hoarse. “I haven’t…haven’t squirted before…”

a devious smirk made its way to his face before he leaned down.

“Lets see if I can do it again.”

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lilithdeparis · 17 hours

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both of it.

Warning: very heavy smut.

I'm thinking about your new gynaecologist, Simon Riley, you who didn't even know about it, as usual once a month visited the gynecologist Mia to find out she was not working there anymore, so Simon Riley took care of you.

What a way for a man to have his fingers inside your wet cunt, when you were lying in front of him with your legs open and looking at him with red cheeks, at one moment you even moaned because of his three big fingers moving in and out lot more faster now, which the man told you was completely normal.

But what wasn't quite normal was your sudden cum and then a squirting, causing a big grin to break out on the man's face.

"I don't think my fingers are enough, I'll try to check with something else."

You didn't even realize how his hands suddenly was replaced by his really big, thick and veiny dick, which was now hitting your small and beautiful cunt with all its might in and out in all the necessary places.

Towards the end, man thrust right into you, his cum completely filling your belly and even coming out of your little cunt, you lay there, barely breathing, when suddenly the man bent down and kissed your dripping cunt.

"I think l found problem, this little thing needs more stretch to fit Johnny's and mine together sweetheart."

The man said while smiling and your eyes immediately moved to the second gynecologist with a mohawk harcut, in the corner of the room, who was already smirking and removing his belt.

#cod ghost #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #ghost smut #cod fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #johnny mactavish #soap smut #cod soap #Spotify

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ghostsgrl666 · 23 days

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roommate!ghost who's waiting for you when you get home in the middle of the night after going out with your friends. Sitting on the couch in those fucking grey sweatpants when you stumble through the door and drop your keys. Has to stare at the crack on the ceiling when you get down on your hands and knees to find them, pretend for his own sanity that he hasn't seen the tiny excuse for underwear you've got on under that little black dress.

Like clockwork, he's got you sitting on the icy bathroom counter as you giggle, telling him all about your night. He's got cotton pads and makeup remover in one hand and the other holding onto your thigh because you started unconsciously squeezing his broad frame when he stepped in between your open legs. He gently wipes away all the traces of the night, carefully mapping out the contours of your face like you're a masterpiece he's carved from some precious stone. Until he gets to your lips. The shiny, fucking sparkly gloss is all thats left on your skin but his hand freezes as he studies the crease in your bottom lip. You catch up two seconds later in your dreamy, relaxed haze, and without even thinking about it you close the gap, softly pressing your lips to the one's silently hovering over yours.

His breath catches and his grip on your thigh becomes molten hot as you just as quickly pull away. Innocently you smile at him, like you hadn't just killed him, like you hadn't just made him start planning your wedding down to the way your eyes would shine as you walked down the aisle, all for him.

Your laugh is the only thing that can pull him out of his stupor, "you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that."

But he does, he really, really does.

#simon ghost riley #ghost headcanons #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #cod smut #cod x reader #roommate! ghost #roommate ghost #roommate au #first kiss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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certifiedyapperx · 1 month

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imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”

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