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callsign-datura · 11 months ago

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CW: pet names, oral (fem! receiving), spelling his name on the clit "c'mon pretty girl, open up f'me," simon murmurs, his lips and peachfuzz scraping against the soft skin of your thigh, up to your knee as his hands roam up and down your legs. brown eyes focus on you as you keep your legs pinned together, an embarrassed whine leaving your throat as you tilt your head to the side.

"si, you don't have to," you said quietly, looking down at him with your big doe eyes as you reach out to cup his face. he leans into it, his eyebrows knit and the corner of his mouth quirks.

"why not, sweetheart?" simon was a man of few words, but the look in his eyes was enough to make you shrink underneath it. his looming frame rises and he stands, but you keep your legs together still as he rests his hands on your knees. his size always sends your heart aflutter, but now it was beating so rapidly in embarrassment.

"i-i haven't shaved. i didn't bother once you left, so..." it's been months since he left. he came home out of nowhere, his big bulky frame caging you against the wall before wrestling you onto the bed, prime and ready show you how much he missed you. your pretty pussy was all he could think about for the days leading up to his return, and now you were denying him because you hadn't shaved? he knew you wanted him as bad as he wanted you. he felt insulted.

"hah, love," he begins, a small amused smile curling his lips as he tries easing your legs apart again. "i've been gone f' months... thinkin' 'bout you, an' that pussy of yours, and y'think i give a shit 'bout hair now that i've finally got ya where i want ya?" he cocks his head to the side, overgrown blonde hair tickling his brow as your legs finally release and fall apart, his hands going down to grip the waistband of your panties, snapping the elastic against your flesh to watch you jump before he sinks back down to his knees.

he chuckles as your face reddens and you swallow, your head falling back to avoid looking him in the eyes when you feel his lips against your inner thigh. "c'mon now. y'know me better than that, sweetheart," his lips part and he bites down gently, smirking against your flesh when you jolt again. "much, much fuckin' better than that," he chuckles in amusement as he speaks, trailing his kisses down your inner thigh and peppering soft kisses and lovebites along the fat of your thigh before stopping just shy of your pussy. "pretty little thing, aren't ya? shaved or unshaved, i'll devour ya all the same," he whispers, his voice low but carrying enough intent to make your walls flutter on nothing. he moves a hand between your legs, using his thumb to spread your lips just enough to give him direct access to your clit, planting his mouth there as his lips curl and his hot tongue darts out to lave over you.

his tongue moves in hot, slow circles, your legs twitching at the content as you squeal and writhe pathetically. the contact after so long is almost too much for your body. one of your hands plants itself on his head and runs through the untidy locks, pulling gently to guide him closer. smugly, he obliges, but not before he lets loose a grunt and a teasing, "needy girl." before closing his lips around your clit and sucks gently, applying pressure against it with the tip of his tongue at the same time as his hands cup your outer thighs.

he releases your clit with a faint 'pop', his tongue sliding out and flattening against you, dragging upward from your hole to your clit, laving once again as the mix of your slick and his spit drip down onto the mattress beneath you, leaving a mess that's only likely to grow as time goes on. "mm. missed this fuckin' pussy," he grunts, his raspy voice making your clit twitch and the heat of his breath fanning over you. you whine in response, lifting your hips, seeking more friction. you sniffle quietly beneath him, lifting your head to look at him as his gaze flickers over your body before he sinks down again. he moves a hand between your legs and rolls his middle and pointer finger against your pussy, gathering his spit and your slick before he carefully pushes them inside as he starts lapping at your clit again. your needy pussy sucks his fingers in, and instinctively, he curls them, searching for a few moments before the pads find your g-spot. the sudden pleasure makes you jolt and your toes curl as you push your legs apart and rest your heels on the edge of the bed, lewd mewls leaving your lips as he grunts into your pussy. he doesn't thrust his fingers, just rubs them against your g-spot as he laps hungrily at your clit-- like a man starved. which he was. months left without the taste, feel, scent of your precious pussy left him hungry. he shifted as he kneeled, his hardening cock in his pants making the fabric strain against him, quickly becoming uncomfortable as he continues to eat you out. he doesn't care though, your pleasure in this moment matters more to him than that.

each mewl, whine and cry that leaves your lips makes his dick twitch. he has to stifle a whine of his own. his eyes flutter open, looking up at you to find bright, eager eyes staring down at him. your mouth is open, lips quivering and red from how consistently you bit them to keep quiet. eyes dilated and wide, rolling back once he starts rolling his fingers into you.

he chuckles quietly into you, shutting his eyes again to savor the taste and squeeze of your pussy. he can feel you getting close, so he continues-- a bit faster than before. the noises of your pussy are loud, lewd and embarrassing, but his grunts are louder. you whimper pathetically as the coil in your stomach tightens and the heat falls over you. his hand is planted firmly at the curve of your hip, gripping tightly to keep you in pace as he licks hungrily at your clit, alternating between lapping and circles.

as your squirming becomes more frequent, you feel his laps become a bit more erratic. through your hazy mind you don't connect the dots yet, too distracted by the incoming pressure of your orgasm. your hips lifted and you cried out. "s-si, please! gonna cum... m'close..." and he only chuckled into your pussy, mumbling a "cum f'me sweetheart, know you can. give it to me." then he starts the pace again. you realize then after his licks become more defined, that he's using his tongue to spell his name on your clit. the thought makes you gasp, the sound low in your chest as he suddenly applies a bit more force as he thrusts his fingers into you, purposefully angling them to hit your g-spot with the tips of his fingers over and over and over again. you wail his name and your walls clench, the warmth flooding you as that coil snaps. he groans deeply into your pussy, helping you ride through it as you reach your peak. it lasts a few seconds, and you mewl and whine pathetically, fingers tugging at his hair as he continues, helping you down from your orgasm with slow licks. he withdraws his fingers from you shortly after his tongue halts, and your hands come to your face as he rises between your legs and leans over you. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, shushing you softly as his hands run up and down your sides. Your arms thread around his neck and you mumble to him. "...were you spelling your name on my clit?" a pause. his rubs stop, and he hums quietly in amusement. "maybe. 've gotta make sure you know what name to moan. seems like it worked..."

you can hear and feel the smirk on his face, and you scowl playfully, hiding your red face in your hands as he laughs into your neck. yeah, it worked. and now he was gonna continue doing it.

#simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw3 #simon ghost riley x reader #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 6 months ago

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a/n: sorry for the long wait! 4.7k words, the result of my last poll, simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected p-in-v, creampie, hair-pulling, degradation, talking to the pussy

ghost didn't have many hobbies, but he did have a few he liked the most. His third favorite was being at the shooting range, his second favorite was cleaning his guns, and his first favorite was sparring.

he often sparred to ensure he wasn't getting rusty with certain hand-to-hand techniques. usually with soap, or gaz. late at night when he had energy to expel, or unwanted emotions to get out.

that's why he found himself in the gym, this time off the mat, wrapping his busted knuckles with bandages. he was dressed in gray sweats, a black wife-beater, and the mask. he flexed his fingers as he tucked the edge of the bandage beneath the edge of another at his wrist, bringing both arms above his head. he stretched, grunting quietly before letting his arms drop to his sides, squinting at the way the fluorescent lights made his head ache.

the door creaked open slowly. he tilted his head, watching you enter. you looked up and met his gaze, and he turned his head away and began wrapping his other hand with the same bandages.

you and ghost were cordial at the very least and hostile at the most. it wasn't that you got along-- sometimes his demeanor just pissed you off. so closed off, and for what? working with another person was better than working alone, to you, and you didn't understand why in the hell he was so rude to you.

you huffed under your breath, not expecting him to be in the gym so late. you watched his shoulders flex, the wife-beater a darker shade around his neck with the sweat that dampened it. he looked like he'd been hard at work for a few hours, the bandages around his knuckles tainted with a deep shade of red.

"what's the point of wrapping your hands after you've busted them on the bag?" you call, watching his shoulders shift a bit as he stops wrapping.

"i forgot to do it before." he retorts, not bothering to face you.

"didn't nurse sullivan tell you to do it before?" you put your hands on your hips. your tone is concerned, and partially, you are, but the other part of you is just looking to get on his nerves. you came here to train yourself, but messing with him seemed a bit more fun. "thought you'd remember what a nurse told you to do."

"didn't ask ya to remind me what sullivan said, i know what m'doin'." he finishes wrapping his other hand and goes back to the bag, getting into position and bringing his fists up. he starts throwing punches, the jangle of the chain and the thuds of his fists hitting the bag echoing in the room.

you approach him. "you know, sparring might be better than boxing." you offer, folding your arms behind your back as your gaze flickers over his stature. he's by no means a small man, and it's been a while since you've had the chance to spar with the other guys on base.

ghost's hands shoot out to still the bag, and his head tilts to the left. brown eyes peer at you from beneath the mask, and he huffs through his nose, looking you up and down. "tch. y'got a death wish? i've got a few inches on ya... not to mention pounds."

"i know you do. it'd be good training for me." you hum, looking to the side, then back to him. "for you too, maybe. having an agile opponent might be a bit challenging for someone so... lumbering."

"lumbering?" he asks, tilting his head as he turns to you completely. "and you... agile? got an ego, don't ya?" though he's excited at the prospect of sparring at all, so he's considering it.

you can tell you're piquing his interest, so you push it, ignoring the little jabs. "maybe a small one. sounds fun though, doesn't it? I heard it's been a while since you've got the chance."

he sighs. he feigns resignation, but there's a sparkle in his eye that you don't miss. he considers it for a few moments before he starts skulking in your direction. "you're gonna regret that," he huffs, stopping just short from you. "i've got some rules. one, you lose after i've pinned ya for 10 seconds. two, no dirty shots. i don't pull y'r hair, you don't kick me in the nuts. got it?"

he sounds so serious, you chuckle. "alright," you nod, agreeing to his terms. then you take your position on the furthest end of the mat while he takes position at the other end.

"ya ready?" he gruffs, and you nod, putting your fists up.

"alright then, you get the first shot."

"really?" you tilt your head, taking a few steps forward as you begin circling in the center of the mat.

"mm-hmm." he hums, rubbing his arms before putting his fists up. "wanna see what you can do."

you huff, then you go towards him, side-stepping and reaching out to grab his arm. you yanked on it, and he barely moved. he almost paused, somewhat amused that you even tried that. you let go and move away from him and he follows-- throwing a few punches without expecting them to land.

they don't. one disadvantage of him being so much bigger than you is the speed difference. you're so much faster than him. you can dodge faster, but if he finally gets his hands on you, you're done.

you're moving around the mat, dodging his punches and dodging it when he reaches for you, and he's growing increasingly frustrated.

"godammit, quit fuckin' moving." he hisses, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you in. he lets go to grab you by the shoulders, but before he can, you duck and use most of your strength to kick his shins, trying to debilitate him so you can get away. it doesn't work. you scramble away and he follows, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pulling you close. he turns around to throw you off before shoving you to the ground and pinning you there by your shoulders, his body coming down on yours as his knees cage you in on either side of your hips.

you're squirming, hips lifting and hands clawing at his wrists in an effort to get him to let you go. his eyes narrow, getting some sort of satisfaction at seeing you squirm beneath him.

"one," he begins counting, signaling to you that you only have a few seconds to get away. his grip on you tightens, and you're almost sure he's gonna win when you get an idea. your grip tightens on his wrist before you drag your hand up it, digging your nails into the surface of his skin. you apply enough pressure to cut the skin, and his grip releases at the same time he hisses. he doesn't let go, but you take the opportunity to throw his hands off of you and turn around in his hold, tucking your legs in against yourself and pushing the bottoms of your feet against him to throw him off. then you scramble out from beneath him, getting up and putting distance between the both of you.

"hmm," he says, eyes focusing on you before he gets to his feet. "slippery fuckin' thing." he laughs, looking at the arm you cut up. crimson dribbles from the thin red lines you've left behind, and he rolls his head, cracking his neck as he goes towards you again.

there's something different in his eyes-- he's surprised that you're putting up such a fight.

"never expected a little thing like you to fight so dirty." he says, his voice low and husky as he stops a few feet away from him, intense eyes following you as you circle him. it's obvious to him you have no intention of making the first move again, so he opts to play with you a bit instead.

"y'r crafty too, huh?" he says, his voice mocking somewhat. "didn't expect you to claw me up like that. i mean, it worked..." he turns as you do, and your eyes narrow.

"i'm enjoyin' this one, that's for sure. maybe i should make sure that you're gonna keep comin' back?" he says, his voice husky again. there's a tone in it. it's almost like he's taunting you, or-- no, that isn't it...

"it's a shame they won't scar, though." he takes another step towards you, and you look behind you to gauge how much space you have until you step off the mat. you stay where you are.

"i like having trophies from my fights... reminds me how much i enjoyed it." he keeps rambling, and you're not sure what the point of all this is. it makes you feel fuzzy inside, kind of, like he's complimenting you.

he gets closer, and his eyes narrow further. you know he's smirking beneath the mask. you look meek-- is he flirting with you? is your lieutenant flirting with you? is simon "ghost" riley flirting with you??? he throws a few lazy punches, knowing you'll dodge them.

"not at all. it's a compliment, actually. small, nimble. i bet you rarely get into any sticky situations, huh? like a rabbit," he chuckles, his voice amused as he lets go, then shoves your shoulders hard enough to make you stumble. then, to make you lose your footing, he kicks your feet out from under you.

"ain't very often i get to fight people like you, after all." he hums, not even sounding like he's taking it seriously. you're visibly nervous, and you hold your fists up defensively. he leans forward, grabbing your arm and pulling you close. the rational part of you is laughing at your idiocy, but the other part of you is melting because-- he is flirting.

"ugh-- people like me? is that an insult?" you say, your chest close to his as he leans down. his face is inches from yours, and you can feel his breath against you.

you yelp, and you fall on your ass. the sudden tone shift is enough to send you spiraling. the way he talks to you makes something heat in your stomach. he gets on top of you again, one of his legs between yours and the other on the outside of you. he puts his hands on the mat between your arms, and he stays leaned over you.

"well... not really fighting back now, are you? that's a shame..." he huffs, his gaze drifting from your face down... your chest is heaving, and your eyes are shut. your hips shift, and he moves his leg up at the same time. the curve of his thigh bumps against your clothed cunt, and it makes you jolt.

"hey!" you hiss, not expecting the contact or the look in his eyes when you finally look at him.

"what?"

"i... i thought you said no dirty shots," you retort, your voice somewhat weak. you look away, your body flooding with some sort of warmth that his closeness produced in you.

he snorts, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. "ain't a dirty shot if you're already on the ground and you've already lost. it's just... overkill." but he stays over you, despite the fact he just won. his gaze rakes over you in a hungry manner, and you can hear him suck in a breath when your back arches up off the ground.

"...you can get off me now," you murmur, avoiding eye contact. you feel shy, all of a sudden, and kind of pissed. he just won because he was toying with you on purpose to win. he was messing with your feelings! "get off me." you hiss, trying to get out from under him.

his eyebrows go up, sensing your sudden hostility. his eyes narrow. he lifts a hand and pins your shoulder down. "ah ah ah, the fuck are you doing? did i say you could get up?" he was enjoying this before, but now that you're fighting back like this he's a bit irritated.

your squirming just results in you unintentionally grinding yourself against his thigh. you suck in a breath when it happens, and your eyes narrow.

"you're such an asshole" you grumble. despite your arguing and your resistance, you press yourself against his leg.

he looks down when your hips shift. he watches the way they move, and when you finally relax, he moves above you and intentionally moves his leg to see your reaction.

your face flushes, and you whimper, looking away.

"well... look at that." he murmurs, his voice lilted and knowing. he looks up at you and makes eye contact, pushing it against you again to elicit another noise from you. you moan once again and your lips curl, eyebrows knitting in response to the jolt of pleasure he causes.

"isn't that cute?" he teases. "does that feel good?" he says, his voice almost mocking as he lifts his thigh and presses it against you, gently pushing it against you in an even motion to make you squirm even more.

"g-god, you're such an ass," you moan, body falling limp and losing whatever ounce of fight you had. you still mouth off. "do you do this with everyone you spar with? i-is that why soap is always asking you to spar with him?"

he rolls his eyes. "shut up, girl. i'm surprised you have the audacity t' speak to me that way when you're gettin' off on my fuckin' thigh." his voice is almost scolding, but he doesn't grind his leg against you any harder. just goes slow... it's almost torturous. you can already feel yourself drenching your panties. it's a culmination of this entire thing. the way he smells, how close he is to you, the way he's staring at you so hungrily... all of it is making you salivate, except your mouth isn't the only thing drooling.

your head falls back, and your breathing is already so heavy. he tilts his head forward, and his lips are on your neck. you feel the wetness of his lips, the itching brush of peach fuzz, the fabric of his mask rolled up over his nose against your neck-- all of it makes you shudder beneath him. he nips at the flesh of your neck, pulling gently and kissing at the reddened flesh afterward. he puts his leg down, and places himself between your legs, one hand cupping the back of your thigh and lifting it to press himself against you. you feel the outline of his dick through his sweats, semi-hard but at attention. the girth of it catches your attention, and when he feels your body stiffen he chuckles.

"hush. we'll make sure it fits, doll." he murmurs, his voice husky and low, sending shudders through you with how close he is to you. he doesn't grind into you from that position. rather, his hands travel up and down your sides as he kisses your neck, sucking small hickeys and trailing them down. his hands shove your shirt up and over your chest, doing the same with your bra. he's intense, and very aware of what he wants-

you.

his eyes focus on your tits. round, perky and the perfect size for him to hold. so he slides one hand up to cup and fondle your tit, his thumb quickly traveling over your nipple. it pebbles and perks beneath his touch and against the cool air, and he hums. he salivates. he wants to taste your skin. drag his tongue over your flesh, feel the goosebumps that raise beneath his tongue. but he can't. he has to make sure you come back for more and that's exactly how he will.

and as always, he'll get what he wants, one way or another. you squirm beneath him, and noises attempt to claw out of your throat but you keep quiet. you don't want to let on how much you're enjoying this, but the subtle rock of your hips gives it away.

"tsk tsk tsk. are you really this impatient? haven't even done anything yet." he snickers, pulling back to look down at you. he pulls his mask back down before you can see anything, and he leans forward with his hips a bit. your legs still hover against his hips, your knees drawing together as a result of your embarrassment. your lips part and you pant, chest heaving once again.

his other hand slips down to your hip, lifting your legs up and together, over his shoulder so he can pull your pants and panties up your thighs.

"such a pretty girl. you know, i've had my eyes on you for a bit..." he starts. once your pants are around your thighs and he has enough access to you, he brings the hand that was on your boob, to your mouth. he eases his pointer and middle finger into it and your eyebrows knit at the taste of sweat. "suck," he instructs. you do, cheeks hollowing briefly as your tongue laves along his fingers, coating them in spit.

"hmm... always wondered whether or not you were the obedient type, but i never got a chance to break you in and find out." he chuckles, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and bringing that hand between your legs. he drags the tips of his fingers through your folds, humming when he feels how wet you are. you can hear how sloppy it is, and he laughs.

"i guess i wouldn't be breaking you in as much as her," he snickers. your face reddens and you look to the side, panting once again as he starts easing those two fingers into your sopping cunt. you comprehend then that the her was your pussy.

"mm-hm, tight, as i thought. are you that nervous?" he teases, tilting his head as he scissors those two fingers inside you. the feeling knocks the air from your lungs, and you gasp, bringing both hands to your face to hide how embarrassed you are. despite that, your body gives away how excited you are, your hips shifting and your back arching as his thick fingers curl inside you.

if you're moaning, your pussy is screaming. the wet noises of his fingers working you out is embarrassing and brings heat to your face, but you can't really focus on that.

it sounds so lewd, and it is. you let out a gasp as he pushes them deeper, the sheer girth of his fingers causing your gummy walls to strain. your thighs clench and your hands ball into fists. his other hand pulls your pants and panties off completely, humming as your legs fall apart.

"s'it that good, doll?" his voice is husky and low, teasing. he's getting off on your reaction to his touch. "c'mon, girl, look at me..." his fingers stop, and you whine, shifting to look at him. they start moving as soon as your eyes fix on his, and your lips part. you moan again, your lips curling.

"c'mon, talk to me." he encourages, and his touch is downright sinful in comparison to his tone. "does it feel good? this what you wanted when you started grinding yourself on my leg?" he chuckles to himself. "never woulda thought you were this kinda girl if i hadn't of seen it myself..."

his thumb moves, and flattens over your clit once he turned his wrist over. he rolls circles over it slowly, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on the outside of your thigh.

you squirm and whimper, and it takes everything in him not to just pounce on you. instead he opts to listen to your moans and the sound of his fingers inside you. he curls his fingers and inches them deeper until your body jolts, and he hums in approval at your reaction.

"s'that the spot...?" he asks, leaning forward as he curls his fingers against that spot again. you jump, the coil in your stomach growing ever tighter as you moan in affirmation. the pleasure is making your head feel light, your eyes fluttering shut again and your head falling back against the mat. you're squirming and shifting again, and you feel sweat on your neck and chest. you whimper a bit, the air feeling sticky and humid between you both. it's hard to tell whether that's just your body heat, or it's him.

and you whimper at him. you can feel your orgasm encroaching, and he can feel it too. your cunt squeezes around his fingers and he can feel you throbbing. your body tenses, and your orgasm is right there--

he removes his fingers. you slump down, tilting your head to the side and huffing in frustration when you feel so suddenly empty.

"...this proves that you're just... an asshole..." you grumble, bringing your legs together.

he's thick. slight upward curve, blushing tip and definitely not lacking in length.

there's silence on his end, and when you look at him, he's pulling his sweats and boxers down.

"can't be much of an asshole if m'gonna dick you down," he purrs. you don't look, but you feel his cock hit the side of your thigh once he takes it out. a hand wrapped around the base, he gives a few lazy pumps, smirking to himself beneath the mask when you lift up to look.

"hmm? s'this good enough for you? such a rude girl, calling me names," his voice is teasing. he shifts forward a bit and then lines himself up with you before he moves both hands to cup the back of your knees and lift them. he moves you just a bit closer. He shifts his hips, then without warning, pushing himself into you up to the hilt.

you gasp. he's big, and you wish he had told you he was going to do it so quickly, because you weren't expecting it. his size takes a bit for you to adjust to, the sting and the stretch causing you to squirm once again. he grips your hips to still you, and he hums. "shh... you can take it, can't you?" you continue to whimper, and he laughs. "so pathetic. s'it too big for you?" he mocks, leaning over you once again.

"so fuckin' messy. look at you, girl. maybe this-" he emphasizes that with another particularly hard thrust that causes his tip to attack your g-spot-- "is what you wanted all along. maybe you asked me to spar cause you wanted me to fuck the shit out of you," he huffs, his voice low and raspy and his movements aggressive. you can barely speak aside from squeaks and squeals, the feeling of his hips slamming into yours causing your vision to go white. you couldn't respond outside of gasps.

god. yes. yes, it was too big-- and it took you a while to adjust to it. he started moving once your hips started shifting into his. he tilted his head forward, tucking it into your neck and grunting quietly. you're still sensitive, so when your lips part in a moan, it all feels so intense. your back arches and your legs push apart, welcoming him. his thrusts are shallow, yet careful, (for now), and he grunts into your ear. you squeeze around him, and your head tilts back as you moan out, hands finding his shoulders and digging your nails into it. Your eyebrows knit and you whine.

"y'r pussy's noisier than you are. listen to her," he goes quiet and fucks into you harder just to emphasize the paps of his hips hitting the back of your thighs and the squelches of your pussy clenching around his cock. your slick dripped down your cunt, getting his sweats damp a bit with it-- he moved one hand up to pull your hair, tilting your head back so he could talk in your ear.

"fuck," he cursed, pulling your hair again and chuckling when you cried out. you were lost in the feeling. the feeling of him, the feeling of his cock and how roughly he fucked you.

"hah!" you mewled, your back arching up off the mat. you grabbed at his shoulders in utter desperation. your eyes crossed and you tilted your head to the side, your body jolting with each thrust he offered you- getting gradually rougher.

"y'sound so slutty, moaning for me like that... keep doin' it, pretty," he hummed, staying close as he rutted into you with a force that might as well have caused you to shriek. he let go of your leg, and both of them closed around his waist, ankles locking at his lower back.

"m'gonna cum," you whimpered, your voice soft and meek. he chuckled, and his movements got a bit more aggressive. he lifted himself up onto his hands, keeping them just over your shoulders and looking down to where your bodies met. his fat cock was pounding into you over and over, the squeezes of your pussy enough to make him moan a little bit himself. he looked up, meeting your gaze.

when he finally came, you were still on cloud nine, wailing and squirming beneath him when his hips slammed into yours and he spilled spurts of hot cum into your pussy. the sensation was almost enough to make you cum again-- especially when he ground his hips into yours, his tip grinding into your g-spot. plus his lovely groans were sending you straight to heaven. the noises he made were mostly groans as he fucked into you, making your entire body shudder from the feeling and the sensations flooding your body.

your eyes were glazed over. visibly lost in the pleasure and focused on nothing but your impending orgasm, he took that as encouragement. he took your legs again, sitting up and pulling them together but pushing them against your front. the angle allowed him to get impossibly deeper. each time he slammed into you, his tip hit your g-spot, applying enough pressure to graze the plug of your womb and create more tingling, burning pleasure.

"oh! oh, fuck--" you gasped, folding a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. your heart was pounding in your ears, and you swore you almost fainted when your orgasm finally fell over you. the feeling of the pressure releasing had you seeing stars, shaky crying moans leaving your mouth. your back arched and tears pricked the corners of your eyes. you were sure you'd be bruised on the inside by the next day.

"that's it baby," he hissed, his grip on your legs tightening. "atta girl..." he purred, his tone tense with his own incoming orgasm. he wanted to help you ride out yours first, so he did. his hips kept that brutal, hungry pace, slamming into your drooling pussy with a fervor he didn't even know he had. he wasn't much of a talker in the midst... you didn't notice that he'd gone quiet, though, too absorbed in the aftermath of your orgasm.

he groaned out, his eyebrows knitting beneath the mask as he tilted his head forward to watch himself pound you. "take it... that's it, fuck..." his tone was still encouraging, but it faded as his pace started to slow. your entire body was still ebbing with pleasure and tingling with the overstimulation of your orgasm, and you were almost struggling to come back to the earth. you were both still panting.

when he pulled out of you and tucked his cock away and fixed his sweats, he looked at you-- his tone was full of pride. "well... fuck... look at you, huh?" he tilted his head, sounding awfully smug. he retrieved your pants and panties and helped you get re-dressed.

"you know... that wasn't the kind of session i was expecting, but damn... i think that was the best i've had in a while." he stood up and helped you to your feet, patting your ass once or twice as he held you up while you regained your bearings.

"...whatever, ghost," you grumbled, still holding onto your stubbornness even after you'd been sent to heaven and brought back.

"you know where to find me. don't be afraid to come get some if you're in need," he hummed, "not like i'm in a position to deny ya."

#simon ghost riley #callsign datura #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw3

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callsign-datura · 1 year ago

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denial. imagine just sitting with simon on the couch. not watching tv, just laying there and listening to the rain hitting the roof. he's on his back with his shoulders against the arm of the couch, his head lolled back as you're sprawled on top of him. he likes cuddling with you on top; likes the warmth you provide. although simon is almost always warm to you, he always feels inexplicably cold. your soft warm body wrapped with his is the perfect solution to his consistent cold temperature. your fingers toy with the strings of his hoodie, wrapping it around your pointer finger and tugging it a little as you move further up. you never sit still, he's realized. always squirming. "quit movin', luv."

he warns quietly, tilting his head forward to kiss your forehead. you give a quiet whine in response before you settle into his broad body's warmth. your hand leaves his hoodie string, and you wrap your arms around your torso, fitting yourself snugly against him. his hands slide down from your back to your hips, and his thumbs slip into the hem of your shorts, resting on the curve of your hip bones and rubbing small circles. he hums to himself at how warm you are, and you whine at how cold his hands are. he chuckles in amusement, his hands leaving your hips to cup the back of your thighs and bring you further up, straddling his lap a bit more. you follow his lead and shift forward, legs resting on either side of his. you shift your hips a little into his, and you feel that warmth pooling in your belly. you act on the feeling, and you pepper little kisses over his chest and take his wrists, guiding his hands to your ass. he follows suit and cradles the flesh, kneading the fat for a few moments before he shifts and sits up, cocking his head forward to ghost kisses across the span of your neck. he breathes a little sigh as you grind against him, your warmth transferring to him and melting his worries away. a little whimper leaves your lips as your grip tightens on his arms, the warmth pooling in your belly further as you feel him shift underneath you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.

"c'mon, dove," he murmurs, his tongue darting out to travel along the length of your flesh. he feels you shudder, and a smirk curls his lips as you grind against him a bit more. his grip on you tightens and your movements stutter. he gently pushes you off of him, and you exaggerate the movement, falling on your back towards the other end of the cushion and huffing out. "hey!" you exclaim, lifting your head and sitting up. confusion is etched on your face and he chuckles. you note that sparkle in his eyes as he crosses his arms and leans back. "not now, eh? we were havin' a moment, and you come n' make it somethin' else entirely." he teases quietly, his eyebrows coming up as his gaze travels your face. your eyebrows knit together, and he rolls his eyes, the smirk never leaving his lips.

"show me how bad y'want it, pet, and maybe I'll indulge ya."

#simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #ghost cod #simon riley x you #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 10 months ago

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retired!simon who you get to know after his last deployment. he doesn't tell you about his past, he doesn't tell you about what his career was. all he tells you is that he's a troubled man. retired!simon who you fall in love with, despite his many struggles and closed-off behavior. retired!simon who skips the dating period. automatically claims you as his spouse once you both agree to be together. he's an older man-- in his words, "too old 'ta date". retired!simon who cooks, does laundry, keeps things straightened up on top of managing to remember every date that is important to you. birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, etc. retired!simon who never had his birthday celebrated as a child and doesn't let you celebrate it, but also never happened to tell you why. you just assumed birthdays weren't his thing. retired!simon who comes through the front door and calls out to you. "m'home, love,"

he pauses when he hears you giggling. you come down the hall with a cupcake and card in hand, and you immediately go to greet him. "welcome home, si," you say quietly, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "i know you don't like celebrating your birthday, buuut i just wanted you to feel special for once since you've been working so hard recently." your expression softens when his eyes twitch and he looks away. "i made cupcakes, and dinner's done..."

you trail off as he shrugs off his jacket with a pensive expression. "si? is something wrong?" you ask, reaching up to touch his shoulder. he grunts in response, but he's shaking. he's shaking because he forgot about his birthday, but now... now he remembers being scolded. he remembers having a beer bottle thrown at his head during a fight with his father, on his birthday. he remembers limping back to the safehouse, bleeding out, wondering if his birthday would also be his death day. he remembers tommy nearly overdosing on his birthday. he remembers everything.

he looks at you, his pupils dilated. your eyebrows quirk in worry, and you murmur his name as you reach for his face. he tenses once again but ultimately leans into your touch, his lips quivering and his hands shaking at his sides. retired!simon who decides it's time to tell you. sits down with you, and explains why he doesn't like birthdays. he tells you about his mother, his father and his brother. he's vague about it, but you listen nonetheless.

you listen so closely, and you even begin to cry. he's surprised that you feel so much empathy for him that you cry over his story-- and he's slightly moved by your compassion. he expects you to be angry that he never told you, but... "oh, simon," you whisper, your tone thick with emotion as you look up at him with tears in your eyes. "I'm sorry. i didn't know. that's awful..." and you embrace him so tightly his breath hitches. he leans into the embrace and tucks his face into your hair. "m'sorry, love. shoulda told you a long time ago."

you shake your head back and forth. "no, don't apologize. it's not your fault. i understand why you would feel as if you have to hide this from me," you begin. "but you can trust me. i'd never judge you. i love you and i want to help." again, he's moved by your compassion. he's silent for a moment before he utters, "okay." "take your time. you don't have to spill your heart out to me now. i want you to do it at your own pace..." his chest tightens. you're being so accepting, so understanding, and he doesn't understand why. he doesn't understand how, but he appreciates it. your warmth thaws his heart and his mind, once frozen by his trauma and his history. he wonders if you're really willing to stick around. he knows it's not easy to deal with him. he expects you to leave after he tells you everything, but you don't...

retired!simon who decides to celebrate his birthday with you from now on.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost mw3 #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #callsign datura #ghost x y/n

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callsign-datura · 10 months ago

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"fuck," simon whispers, a mix of warmth and pain swelling in his chest as you moan his name. pretty body splayed beneath his, your soft unmarred hand planted against his, fingers intertwined as his eyes flickered to the glinting diamond on your finger. his eyes narrow and his brows furrow, twisting his handsome face into something close to a grimace. the sight of the diamond has his chest clenching. you still wore the ring, even after your divorce. "simon-- simon, please," you whisper, in that whiny, pleading tone that he remembers so well. begging him like you did the night you both got married, yet this time, it's been years. you were so close, yet so far. You left him because he was never home, even when he promised and retired. something always had his attention that wasn't you, and he'd regretted it. it felt like his entire life crashed down around him whenever he came home and found the house deathly still. he shakes his head, leaning forward on the hand positioned between your arm and your side, picking up his pace as his hips snap against the back of your thighs and your ass, fat cock plunging into your sopping pussy as you squeezed around him and your mouth curled into an o-shape, your head falling back and giving him space as he buries his face into your neck. he moves one hand to your lower back, lifting you up against his hulking body as he pulls you closer in an attempt to reach deeper. and he does. his tip knocks against your cervix, and when you jolt and grunt, he backs off just a bit, internally cursing himself for causing you any pain. "m'so sorry love," he murmurs, his raspy voice sending shudders through you. truthfully you missed him. truthfully, leaving him left a hole in your chest that you couldn't fill. he felt the same, but something in him wasn't allowing him to come back to you permanently. "s-simon, i need you," you cry, your throat feeling tight as tears sting the corners of your eyes and you lift your hips, trying to stave off the desperation and sorrow with pleasure. "p-please stay this time..." you murmur, but your pleas go heard, but unanswered. his pace increases, and he feathers soft gentle kisses over your throat. kisses of a lover, he thinks, kisses of a lover that he could have been to you. your entire body is hot, and the coil in your stomach grows ever tighter as his pace grows firm. slow, deep rolls of his hips that has the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot so deliciously, the feeling ripping a shaky moan from your throat. your hands find their place in his hair, tugging at the blonde locks and bringing your legs around his waist. your whimpers become pleasured cries and his grunts become shaky curses. "i love you, i love you, i love you," he repeats in your ear, tilting his head and nibbling at the flesh of your shoulders before finding a thicker part of your flesh to bite down on, grunting as he bucks his hips into yours. his cock is so heavy, it makes you feel so full. you missed this feeling.

his hands found the back of your thighs, pushing your legs forward as he lifted up and held the back of your knees to keep you in that position. dark, deep brown eyes rove over you with a mix of love and desire, his gaze lingering on your tits that jiggle with each of his movements before they flicker to meet yours. you look up at him with teary eyes, exhaustion and desperation filling your expression as your nose stings with unexpressed emotion.

his lips curl into what is supposed to be a soft, reassuring smile, but it does nothing. your head falls back and your chest twists, a sniffle breaking from you as you cry out. your orgasm falls over you in a heavy wave, leaving you gasping as tears roll down the sides of your face. he gives you a few moments, his thrusts slowing to a halt, your sorrow making his chest tighten as he leans down to kiss your face, hushing you softly. he didn't need to cum. this was more about you, after all.

exhaustion settles over you, and your eyes grow bleary and your body grows limp. he slowly withdraws from you, pulling a blanket over your tired body. he stands up and pulls his boxers and jeans on, buttoning them and pulling up the zipper as he watches you. his chest grows heavy, and tears sting in his eyes as well. he wants to stay, but he doesn't trust himself enough to just walk into your life again. your begging makes his heart tear in half, and he can still hear it. "s-simon, i need you," and that pathetic shake that comes with it. fuck. he's so fucking stupid. he turns his back on you after pulling his hoodie on-- leaving his shirt on the bed for you when you wake up, but nothing else.

once again, he disappears. the only reason he ever comes back is to remind you that yes, he does still love you, he does still miss you, he still can't live without you. but you don't know that... he never tells you. you always wake up dazed and confused the next day, tears leaving your eyes as you remember his confusing arrival and departure, looking around and finding an item he left behind-- something he does on purpose. you pick it up, clutch it to your chest and sob. you don't understand why he leaves every time. why can't he just stay? he hates himself for hurting your feelings, for mixing up your pretty little head every time he shows up. "why can't you just stay?" you'd text him, and he wouldn't answer.

he doesn't know the answer.

he wishes he could stay, but he doesn't.

and he won't.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley angst #simon riley smut #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost angst #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost mw3 #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x you #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 9 months ago

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a/n: y'all not a word. just literal ghost!simon for those who like this trope <3 tags: cunnilingus, ghost sex, ghost simon. yeah he's a literal ghost and eats you out.

ghost!simon riley. ghost that died, and is now a ghost. you were his wife-- so he haunts your new home. ghost!simon that scares away the men you try to hook up with after he dies. breaking things near them, flickering the lights whenever they're alone. you're his, not theirs. in life and in death, his. of course he's going to make them piss their pants before you can fuck them. he doesn't blame you, though. he blames them.

ghost!simon who can pass through walls and objects at will and touch them, too. so, when he finds out he can touch you? best bet he does.

ghost!simon whose main hobby in the afterlife is watching you. other ghosts may cause trouble... but he's not that type. he wants to watch his gorgeous wife, all the time, no matter what she's doing. ghost!simon who's a little too eager to watch you possibly touch yourself when you get horny. it's been years at this point, and he knows you- your tells. the way your thighs started to rub together as you laid in bed, tossing and turning.

ghost!simon who gets the idea to try and let you know he's there... watching. "bird," he mumbles. he knows you can't hear him, but he'll talk to you anyway. "so pretty." he brings a hand to your leg, dragging it upward gently-- testingly. he's surprised that he can touch you at all, so he continues. ghost!simon who leans down to kiss your arm. ghost!simon who recognizes the way your body freezes at the contact. who snickers when you curse about it. you know it's him... you know you're haunted by him in the back of your mind, even if you're in denial. --- "simon?" you whisper, sitting up. you know in your logical brain that this isn't happening-- you're just imagining it. but when the bedlight lamp flickers twice, your heart sinks and your stomach flutters. "...s'that you?" you ask, and the lights flicker twice once more. you feel more fleeting touches along the outer sides of your legs, and suddenly the bed dips at your feet. you feel something nudging your legs apart, and you curse yourself at how easily you follow suit and spread your legs. you're not the spiritual type... this can't be happening. maybe you're dreaming? maybe you're already asleep?

--- ghost!simon who moves between your legs and leans down, kissing your leg just above the knee. his hands move up to the waistband of your pants, and he tugs lazily. sure, he's been a ghost for a while-- but it takes ghost energy to move things! you should do it for him. and he hums when you do, watching the way your hips shift as you pull them down, panties following. you know it's him, and that makes him smug. even after all this time you haven't forgotten his touch. his love. he moves and lays down, and the bed dips further beneath him. his weight, still tangible somehow even in the ghost plane, or whatever the fuck it's called. ---

you're questioning if you've gone crazy. you feel hands move up your legs yet again, stopping at your hips as you feel a few kisses at your hip bone. your head falls back and your chest swells. you shut your eyes and try to ignore the fact that simon always kissed you there before he went down on you. more proof that this was him. ---

he can't taste you. all of his senses are gone now, but at least he can feel you and at least you know it's him. his tongue darts out, leaving over the flesh at your hip before he nibbles there. he can use most functions of his body, some at will, others are just defunct. saliva is one that he still has. why? he has no idea. it's not like he can eat in the afterlife.

...well, not actual food, at least. ---

your eyes flutter. it's an odd sensation. you feel him kiss closer to your cunt, and you've fully succumbed to the feeling. your chest swells more and you feel countless emotions-- you knew he was with you, in one way or another. feeling his touch, his kisses. it almost makes you cry. you suck in a breath and lift your hips, and you feel vibration against your flesh, as if he laughed at you. you just wish you could hear it... see his face between your legs... the feeling is enough.

---

his tongue dips out again, moving between your folds, flattening against your clit. his hands find the bottom of your thighs, gently hoisting them up to give him better access as he tilts his head, swirling his tongue in slow circles like he always did. two slow swirls, four quick flicks. he knew how quickly it got you to cum when he was alive. he hopes it's still the same.

---

your hips twitch, and your back arches, soft sweet moans falling from your lips. the friction is odd, but lord if it isn't intense, your pent up body relishing the feeling of whatever the fuck this is. if you were doubting that it was simon before, you fucking knew it was now. you whimper and your hips buck, a heat swirling in your lower stomach. you feel another vibration against you and your clit twitches, another whine leaving your throat.

---

he's never forgotten you or your body. he's never forgotten the memories he had when he was alive, and even though he can't taste you now he remembers it. sickeningly sweet, he remembers. like honey. "pretty pussy," he grumbles, more to himself since he knows you can't hear it. his tongue flicks against your clit again, relishing in the way it makes your back arch and your hole clench. neglected. he knows you haven't had any since he died. dammit he's made SURE you haven't. of course he can only control things within the bounds of this home, but he knows you prefer having sex in your home-- where you can control things. the setting, the ambiance. one thing he loved. you always controlled all of that, and all he had to do was love you. and if he knew anything, it was how to love you. he decides now to just use his tongue. he didn't want to overwhelm you.

---

you were already overwhelmed. your clit twitched again with each flick, your back arching further and your legs twitching as you got closer to your orgasm. you know, you never thought it was possible to get eaten out by a ghost, but here you were.

---

you mumble his name, and he's done for. his pace increases suddenly, and he grunts to himself at the way your body writhes beneath him. his grip on your thighs tightens, and he pins them down to keep you in place, opting to flick his tongue against your clit to just get you to the edge. when you start whimpering and wailing, he slows down-- smirking when you whimper at the loss. he keeps doing that for a few moments before speeding up again, flicking his tongue against your clit and swirling it at the same time, squeezing your thighs once or twice. ---

you fold your hand over your mouth, head falling back against the pillow beneath your head. you cum seconds after he speeds up again, gasping and writhing still. it comes over you in waves, vision dotted and mind hazy with pleasure. your orgasm ebbs, and his movements slow until you're panting. you barely notice when he detaches himself from you, the bed dipping a bit more as he leans over you and kisses your head. "still as pretty as ever. haven't changed a bit, my wife." --- ghost!simon who breaks all rules of the afterlife to get between his pretty wife's legs again.

#simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost cod #simon riley #ghost mw3 #simon ghost x reader #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 1 year ago

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simon... he was your everything. you'd move mountains just to get to him, you'd throw yourself into a pool and swim to the bottom just to drown with him, you'd throw yourself in front of him and catch a bullet meant for his heart. he was your everything. you'd do anything to have him. nothing was going to stand in your way. not when he looked at you so prettily, blonde lashes fluttering as his eyes brimmed with tears, his earthen brown irises focusing on you. his pupils dilated, and a breathy moan left his lips at the way your lips closed around his cock. he fit so perfectly into your mouth. fit so perfectly inside you. you can imagine it now. hips buried into yours, cock nudging your cervix as you ground down into him, giving slow lithe rolls to make sure he felt how deep he reached inside you. the thought had you moving against your own hand, middle and ring finger rubbing over your puffy clit. your tongue rubbed against the underside of his cock and another one of his perfect fucking moans left his lips, his hips bucking upward as your other hand applied light pressure to keep him from moving too much; it was the perfect angle, and with this, you could bob your head slowly without making yourself gag on his ridiculously thick cock. "fuckin' hell, love. takin' me so goddamn well. makin' me think you were made for me." the words that left his lips made your heart flutter, and you mewled on his cock, beginning your pace again with renewed fervor. he was close, teetering on the edge for the past thirty minutes. you hadn't been meaning to edge him, but you were finding yourself lost in him. his scent, the feeling of his heavy cock down your throat, the feeling of drool and precum dripping down your chin as you bobbed your head lazily, your jaw burning with effort. your eyes focused on his, and his eyebrows knit together as you started bobbing your head faster, pulling your hands away and wrapping them around the base of his cock, working what you couldn't fit in your mouth. "yeah, yeah, baby, s'fuckin' it-- mmh, keep going. so fucking close. love you so goddamn much, fuck..." he growled, throwing his head back against the couch as his hips bucked upwards to hit the back of your throat, causing you to whimper and clench your eyes shut. despite the jolt of pain you kept going; eager to make him cum. so fucking eager. and when you pulled back and sucked on the tip, that was it for him. and you. your hands worked the length of his thick cock as he spasmed slightly underneath you, his big hands coming to the back of your head and shoving you back down, a breathy groan leaving his lips as his hot white cum spilled down your throat, coating it in his spend; marking you. simon was your everything. he was yours, and you were his.

#ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 10 months ago

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a/n: thought this shit up mid genshin session, grind mode pls ignore any mistakes

there are only two things ghost is willing to be patient or gentle with. one, you, and two, his weapons.

the same hands with which ghost cleans a rifle are the same hands he uses to hold your hips down as you squirm in his lap from the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you. he chastises you gently, peppering kisses along your jaw through the fabric of his mask. you smell so nice. he knows he smells like gunpowder and blood. but you, you kinky thing, can't seem to get enough of the feeling.

the care with which he cleans the carbon buildup on his rifle is the same care with which he fucks you. usually there isn't much to clean, usually he maintains a cleaning routine. but sometimes time gets away from him and he finds himself cleaning the weapons he uses the most. his squadmates get their subordinates to clean their weapons when they're working with another team-- something about superiority. most men find cleaning their weapons... annoying, tedious, a waste of time. him? he enjoys it. it helps him relax. maybe it's a coincidence that you help him relax as well.

calloused fingers work in and out of you slowly as he leans over your body. his other hand is planted on the bed beside your hip, russet eyes piercing into yours while he watches your expression. his body feels heavy with exhaustion but his hand is still slow and gentle, unhurried, fleeting tingles of electricity shooting through your body as his fingers curl upwards, searching along your inner walls for a moment before they stop suddenly. you're panting, chest heaving while you shift and turn beneath him, your hips arching against his touch and your head falling back against the pillow under your head. his gaze flickers over your face before down to your chest, then down to where his fingers are inside you. his thumb swings up and over before planting the pad against your clit, applying pressure slowly in swirling strokes as he rolls his pointer and middle into you. he teases you, grazing your g-spot just barely. you know he's smirking under that damn mask, and part of you wants to push it up to see whether or not his lips are quirked into a smirk. you imagine it through the haze of pleasure-- red-pink, thin lips flat other than a barely noticeable twitch of the left corner. the thought makes your heart thump, and you offer a strangled moan before you tilt your head forward and tuck your face into his shoulder.

a low chuckle leaves him, and he tilts his head, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead as he adjusts his intimidating figure above yours. his knees are planted in line with and between yours, though he makes no move to keep them from shaking. he finds it amusing, the way you squirm, so he allows you to continue.

he's going slow on purpose, and it's driving you fucking mad.

"ghost," you mumble, your voice meek and shaky as you lean closer to him. "need more."

he pauses. "really?" he responds, his voice low as he nuzzles his face into the side of your head. "thas' a shame," he murmurs, the smirk audible. "m'fingers are a bit sore. gonna have to take what you can get. ya know, beggars can't be choosers, n' all that..." you can feel him suppress a laugh. he pushes his fingers upwards swiftly to put direct pressure on your g-spot at the same time he adopts an up-down-up-down pattern over your clit with his thumb. your body jolts in response to the sudden change, and your head falls back as you moan out. you jolt once, then again when the pace doesn't slow. your shoulders draw together and you whine.

"mmh-- fuck. jus like that, ghost, please," you squeak, your voice coming out lewd in a way that would make satan blush. "nh-- feels so good..." you trail off, your hips bucking against his fingers as warmth blossoms over your insides. you can't focus on much more than his fingers, and the way he chuckles in your ear almost makes you cream on his digits. thankfully, you don't, but he must've sensed that you almost did, because his pace increases. his eyes are still boring into you, trailing over every feature of your body. your perky tits that rise and fall with your chest, your nipples hard against the fabric of the t-shirt you're wearing. his t-shirt, he realizes, and he clicks his tongue. chastising you once more, but not slowing down, he says, "stealin' my clothes again?" and you can't find it in you to say more than a lazy "m'sorry," your voice slurred by the pleasure of his fingers working into you. he's not rough, you find. his fingers move quickly enough into you that your thoughts fall apart and your body follows suit as you melt into his touch.

"tch. you're not sorry." he purrs, trying to sound like he's scolding you, but the affectionate undertone in his voice assures you that he isn't actually upset. not that you'd care.

or, rather, not that you could care. the coil in your stomach tightens to an unbearable level and he croons at you. "'f i make you cum, are you gon' start askin' for my clothes instead of stealin' em from me?" his words go through one ear and out the other as his fingers, long and thick, curl upwards into your g-spot. he twitches them against it, your cunt clenching around him and making a squelch that turns your face red. "uh-huh." you agree, but your voice lacks conviction.

"you sure?" he asks, leaning down and tilting your head with the hand that was holding himself up. your eyes flutter open and make contact with his, blinking away the blurriness as your mouth falls open in pleasure, a squeaking noise leaving your throat. he laughs quietly, shaking his head. "you don't sound very sure..." "i am!" you reassure, your hips lifting to chase more friction. he obliges, moving his fingers a bit faster at an angle that makes your legs turn to jelly. "i am, i am, i am," you repeat, your head falling to the side as he finally frees you. that hand finds purchase on your chest, squeezing your tit. his cock stirs in his pants at the sight of you, but he ignores it. he continues, and when your eyebrows knit so sweetly, he rubs your clit a bit faster, lulling you into your orgasm. your clit twitches and your walls clench on his fingers but that does not deter him. your moans become tense cries, and your hands grip his biceps and dig your nails into his flesh as your back arches. "cumming--" you cry, and he croons once more. "mmhm, that's it, pretty girl. lemme hear you. who's makin' you cum?" he asks, the low and husky timbre of it making you cum harder. warmth falls over your body and your eyes roll back. you feel like electricity is zapping you every time his thumb rolls over your clit.

"you are," you heave. "ghost-- fuck..." "no, babe... not quite. who's making you cum?" he reiterates, as if that would clear it up. the pleasure is gradually ebbing into oversensitivity. "not gonna stop till you say the right name," he purrs.

oh. you get it now.

"simon! ah, simon." you might as well be shrieking. your throat feels as if you have been for the past few hours, and maybe you have-- you can't remember. suddenly he pulls his fingers from your cunt, letting go of your tit as he sits back on his legs and eases you up into an embrace, your lazy body easily following his movements. he wraps an arm around your waist and looks at the cum coating his fingers. he chuckles again, wiping his fingers off on his leg. your eyes flutter shut and you let out a sigh, body slumping against his before he gently hoists you up and gets off the bed, going towards the bathroom. "was that good, sweet thing?" he asks, setting you on the bathroom counter as he pushes your legs apart before going to get a rag. your sleepy hum of agreement makes his heart warm. any other day he'd have fucked you after, but he gets pleasure from giving you pleasure... and besides, staying pent up until the next time he actually fucks you is better anyhow. maybe it's three things he's patient and gentle with-- his guns, you, and the aftercare he knows you need after you've been fucked dumb.

#simon ghost riley #callsign datura #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw3 #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon riley cod

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callsign-datura · 1 year ago

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Hcs or works for a touch-starved reader dating 141+ Alejandro and Konig? She never initiates but the second they cuddle with her or put a hand on her waist she just gets embarrassingly turned on?

Ghost was a little surprised. He could tell that you craved physical intimacy, but you never once initiated it. You always lingered, always leaned, always stood near-- but you never said a thing about what you wanted. He started taking note of it a while into your relationship after he became comfortable with physical intimacy. Each time you cuddled, you were always pressed tight to him; clinging onto him for dear life, it seemed like, as he dragged his calloused hands up and down your back. To him, it was a gentle moment, one where he was quietly demonstrating to you that he loved you. To you? Jesus Christ, you were DROOLING. Your eyes were screwed shut as you shuddered through the feeling of his fingertips on your bare skin, a breath leaving your lips as your grip tightened on him almost barely. He took note of this change in behavior almost immediately, and his eyes fluttered open and he looked down at you. His left hand slid up your shirt, sending you shuddering once more as he cupped your waist with his right hand. He leaned down and kissed your head, and he felt something in his chest bubble whenever he heard that little whimper that left your lips. "Gonna tell me what y'want, babydoll, or are you gonna suffer in silence?" Price always felt like your behavior was a little odd. He never said anything about it but he noticed it. The way you trembled in his hold as he cuddled you close to his chest, the way you whimpered when he put his face in your neck and the stubble on his chin grazed your soft flesh. The way that you'd shift back against him just a little whenever you were the little spoon, the way your grip on his wrist would tighten when his hand drifted southward; he could tell, and he liked it. Liked hearing those shuddering breaths, liked teasing you about it until you were huffing and puffing about how mean he was. It was one of the nights you were cuddling. You had your back to his chest and he had his chin resting on your shoulder. It was a normal cuddling session, one you always shared before you fell asleep. His touch was getting to you, as it always did. He took notice of it this time and decided to go further with it. His hand drifted underneath the waistband of your pants and panties, and he littered little kisses over your shoulders. He tensed up a moment upon feeling how wet you were, and a strained hum left his lips. "Christ. This turned on from a little cuddling, love? What m' I gonna do with you...?" Soap, bless this boy, he was oblivious for the longest time. Oblivious to the way you squirmed and shuddered and whined in his grip, always equating it to you being you; playful and restless. It took you alluding to it very strongly for it to click in his head. When it finally did, he didn't say anything; just decided to play on it. Spent the day holding your waist, your hips, putting a hand on your back or cupping your face when he got the chance, laughing to himself each time your face flushed and a breath left your lips. He knew he was going to make it up to you. He just wanted to see if your little problem was as bad as it seemed.

You were definitely on edge the entire day, and when you finally got to be alone with him, he was immediately making out with you... intent on making it up to you. "M'sorry, dove, gon' make it up to ya, okay? Jus' bear with me... wanna make you feel good now." Gaz could tell something was up. He knew immediately and immediately had to say something about it. The conversation wasn't... embarrassing, per se, it was just interesting to see his response to how you felt and how his actions affected you. Gaz is always a very physically affectionate person. Holding you, caressing you, kissing you when he can; and to hear that those little things turned you on so goddamn easily? He was thrilled.

He loved being intimate with you. It was an experience he adored; he loved being able to bond with you in that way, loved being able to be so close to you. Knowing that this would just make way for more passionate sex... ...So he started playing on it. Teasing you with this shit-eating grin on his face about the entire thing, running his hands up and down your sides as he kisses your shoulders and his eyes twinkle as he looks at you. "Mm? What's wrong? ...Again?" Konig... He also knows. I mean, you were never necessarily subtle about it. He picked up on it right away and at first decided to give you some grace. Less touches that could set your body alight, more nearness rather than touching. But he found himself missing your body heat, missing the way your flesh felt underneath his hands, missing the way you shuddered and panted just from him holding you. Trying to make a situation less difficult for you quickly ended up starving him of what he needed from you so badly. So he decided to give in to his desires, and yours. It happened one night when you were both lying in bed. Content with being near each other yet craving something more, Konig's head tilted in your direction and those baby blues of his sparkled as he shifted a bit closer to you. Draping an arm over your midsection, he held your belly and kissed your shoulder, trailing them up your neck as he nuzzled his face into you, taking in your scent and feeling the tent in his pants grow more by the second. He grunts quietly. "I can't do it anymore, Schatz. Have to have you..." Alejandro is a very passionate lover. Expect to have sex often. It's not very often your needs go unnoticed, however, as he quickly notices the look on your face when he holds you. His hands on your hips from behind as you make a meal, his face buried into your back as he breathes in your scent and whispers sweet nothings to you, enjoying the closeness. You'd told him about your little habit, so it was always present in the back of his mind how you'd respond to these little displays of affection. Your body tenses, and he feels your muscles flex underneath his grip. His hands travel from your hips to your abdomen, his thumbs rubbing along the flesh and cupping the curve there as he sways you back and forth. He pushes against you from behind teasingly to see how you respond. When you gasp, he feels a sense of pride come over him. "Something you need, cariño? Use your words... I'll be happy to make you feel good if that's what you're craving, mm?"

#141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #price x reader #price cod #soap x reader #soap cod #gaz x reader #konig x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #141 headcanons #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 1 year ago

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Both you and ghost hiding feelings for each other until you make a decision on a mission that saves his life but nearly results in you getting killed. Argument leads to angry sex that melts into soft gentle adoring sex

About A Girl

A/N: anon this is my favorite ask of all time pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader, reader's callsign is raven synopsis: ghost gets hurt, you cover it and nearly get yourself killed. he doesn't want to lose you. Simon "Ghost" Riley doesn't make mistakes. Not when he's stressed, not when he's under pressure, not when people are looking up to him. He doesn't make mistakes, and that's just who he is. When he looks at you and his heart thrums in his chest, he gets distracted. When he feels that tickly feeling in his stomach whenever you look up at him with those eyes of yours, he feels something. And to him, those things and feelings are what cause mistakes. And Simon "Ghost" Riley doesn't make mistakes.

"You're gonna be getting intel from a cartel-run trading port together." Price's voice is low and hoarse as he twirls a pen in his hand before tapping it against the edge of his desk. Ghost's tall, menacing form stands beside you, his arms folding over his chest as he stands. His eyes are cold, neutral, and murky as he stares holes into Price.

You stand beside him, smaller in comparison, your hands slipped into your pockets. His presence is suffocating and to you, it feels like he's taking up the entire damn room. "Just the two of us?" Ghost asks. His voice is husky and raspy, a sexy tone that has your knees knocking. "No backup?"

"No. This'll be a mission I can only send our best on. The place is fortified and you'll be going in, finding the woman and getting the intel, and then getting your asses out of there before the entire place knows you're there. Understood?" His eyebrows rise and he looks from Ghost to you, giving you a brief nod as if he's trying to make sure you have your attention on him. Ghost doesn't say anything. He turns on his heel and starts walking towards the door, and you look at Price and utter a soft, "Understood." before following him out.

"You're leavin' tonight. Get geared up." You look back at Price and nod, and when you look forward, Ghost is already halfway down the hallway. You sigh and you go the opposite way towards the armory to get your gear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tell us where Dimitri is." Ghost's tone is terse, snapping. His words are short and cut, and even though he's not talking to you, even you feel slightly intimidated. His hands are placed flat on the table in front of him, and he leans forward on it, brown dead eyes trained on the lady tied to a chair at the other side of it. "Fuck if I'm telling you," she laughs, accent cutting through her words as she struggles against the ropes. She avoids his gaze however, her eyes cast down and away. "Look, Lana, if you tell us where the man is, we'll let you go." You're lying. Ghost glances at you and his eyes narrow briefly before he looks back at her. Lana Antonova. Russian financier working under a mysterious person named Dimitri Kulikov, the guy who's supplying the man we're looking for-- Red Spirit, a man who's at the head of a cartel. Multiple fatalities as a result of the escapades he and his men went on, including the murder of one of our informants. "I'm not telling you!" She hisses, jerking her body against the ropes. Her voice is shaky, and she's on the verge of breaking. Ghost sighs and pulls away from the table, pacing at the far end of the room. You approach her and lean against the table with your hip, holding your rifle with one hand and putting your other hand on your hip. "Why aren't you telling us? Is it 'cause you're... involved with this man?" Lana pauses for a second, and then she scoffs, her eyes going up to yours. "...No." "You're lying again," you say, your voice taking on a higher tone, like you're mocking her. "I'm sure those ropes are uncomfortable. Tell us what we need to know and we'll release you." "No." She repeats, her gaze going back down again. She jerks against the ropes once more, and you sigh. You look back at Ghost and you see him rummaging through the various cabinets in the office. He's searching for something on her. You look back at her. "If you tell us where Dimitri is, we'll take him into custody and he'll get a lighter punishment. But if you don't tell us, we'll have to find him ourselves... and if we find him ourselves, we'll have to kill him if he gets combative. Do you want that?" Your voice is condescending, but it's obvious this gets the gears working in her head. She scoffs again and looks away. "I know you're looking for Red Spirit... I have logs on the supplies Dimitri bought. Where the supplies went, when they were bought, and when they arrived at their location. I'll tell you where those are. Just... leave Dimitri alone." You stand up straight and look at Ghost. He looks back at you and gives a nod, before coming back over. "Where are they?" "They're... in this office. In that desk." She nods with her head, and you go over to the desk and rifle through it. "It's a USB drive... insert it into a computer and it'll start a download of all the purchase logs and delivery reports." You find a small USB drive, and you hold it up. "This is it," you say, looking at Ghost. He nods again, and you put it in your pocket. He leaves the office. "Hey! Aren't you going to let me go?!" You go over to her and pick up a roll of duct tape on the table, picking it up and ripping off a strip before putting it over her mouth and smirking at her. "No chance, lady."

You turn around and jog out of the office, locking the door behind you. Ghost is waiting in the hall. He looks at you. "Got the drive?" You nod. "Good. We're going." Then he starts jogging down the hall and out the door you both came in through. You follow suit and he leads you out of the building and down the road leading to the docks at the shore. Waiting further up the shore is the patrol boat you used to get there. Halfway down the road, when you're catching up to Ghost, gunfire sounds. Your head whips back and you see about five men at the top of the road, shooting down at the both of you. You're about to start running, but you see Ghost using a wide tree as cover. He has his back to it and he has one hand on his leg like he's been injured. You turn around and return fire, taking cover behind another tree further up the road. Whenever you've taken out four of the five men, you go to Ghost's side. He's bleeding pretty bad from his leg. "Shit," you hiss. "Come on, let's go." You move to help him limp further down the road to get to the boat. "No, just go. You have the drive." he grunts. Millions of things are running through his head, and he'd rather get left behind than risk you getting injured just because you're trying to help him. Gunfire sounds, and his heart thumbs in his chest.

"If they find you, they'll kill you!" "Just go!"

"No, the boat is right there--" You take his hand and start leading him down carefully. He's limping, and it's taking some effort. You don't stop. You help him down to the boat and into it. You get in as well, and there's more gunfire. You look up as the patrol boat starts pulling away from the shore, and there are more men lined up at the cliff. He knows he should be grateful. But for some reason, he's angrier that you risked your life saving him. You don't say a word, and neither does he. He's just stewing in his own anger, packing his wound. He shouldn't be angry at you. But god, he is. He's pissed that you'd even think about risking your life for him. For some reason, he's angry that he was more worried about you getting shot trying to help him than he was worried about the thought of you possibly leaving him behind. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's a few days later. You waited to talk to him in hopes some of the energy from the mission had diffused. You went to his room, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. He was sitting inside, on his bed, reading a book. He was doing better now, and the injury he sustained on the mission was a graze from a bullet and a pretty badly sprained ankle. He sets the book aside and gets to his feet, going to the door with no trouble, pushing open the door and peeking out. Once he sees you, something bubbles up in his chest. It's a mix of happiness that you came to see him, guilt that you went out of your way to help him, and anger that you risked your life. He never really dealt with all of the feelings that came with the encounter. "...Hi." You say, your gaze darting down to his leg. "You're doing better, huh?" He steps back and nods, gesturing for you to come inside. "Was jus' a graze and a sprained ankle." "Explained the limping." You say, stepping into his room. It's meant to be a playful joke, but you can't tell if it landed or not as he stares at you. You swallow slightly, crossing your arms. "...We gonna talk about what happened?" He says, his voice low and raspy like usual as he leans against the wall, mimicking your body language. "What is there to talk about?" You act nonchalant. "You saved me." He says matter-of-factly, staring at you a bit harder now. "I did."

"You risked your life to do so. Why?" His tone takes on an angry note; different from how he usually sounds, and you can tell all the emotions are resurfacing. You take a step back, looking at him. "I wasn't just gonna leave you behind, Ghost, that's not what a teammate does--" "No, I'm not jus' your teammate. I'm your lieutenant, and you're supposed to do what I say. I say run, you run. I say leave, you leave." "Are you seriously pulling rank right now?" You genuinely can't believe that he's acting like this, and the look on your face must show it. He scoffs a little. "I'm not pullin' rank, I'm tellin' you that you should have listened to me." "You were telling me to leave you to die!"

"And you should have listened." He pushes himself off the wall and goes toward you. "You're my subordinate." He gets in your space, and his face is a few inches towards yours. Suddenly, you're incredibly aware of everything. The way his brown eyes focus on yours, glittering with anger, the way he leans over you, and how big his hulking frame is in comparison to you. He notices the way a blush spreads across your cheeks, and he pauses for a second. He notices that you're looking everywhere but his eyes. He glances down at your lips and he takes a step forward. "You're an idiot, s'what you are," he grunts, his eyes trained fiercely on your lips. He takes a step forward, shutting the door behind you and pushing you up against it, leaning in and reaching one hand up to pull his mask over his mouth, his other hand tilting your head to the side as he leans in and starts planting rough kisses along the span of your neck. The audacity of this man makes your chest bubble with more anger, but you can't find it in you to push him away. His kisses feel heavenly. You bring your hands to the fabric of his shirt and you ball it up in your fists tight, grunting. "Yeah, well, you're an asshole." You mumble, tilting your head and shutting your eyes as he keeps kissing your neck.

"I might be an asshole but you're still the one who risked your life for me," he grumbles, nipping at the flesh of your neck as his hands find your waist and you pull him closer. "Yeah, well, what would I do without your smartass mouth ordering me around all day?" You mumble, your voice shaky as his touch sets all your senses alight.

He scoffs under his breath and he laps his tongue over your pulse, his big hands running underneath your shirt and gripping your hips. "I'm the one with a smart mouth? You're the one talking back to your superior." He grunts, leaving a light hickey on your neck, then another, then a darker one.

A moan that's badly muffled leaves your lips. He pulls your shirt up roughly, and you lift your arms to make it easier. He throws it aside and moves on to the next article of clothing, unbuttoning your bra and throwing it to the side as his kisses trail down. Over your collarbone, towards your chest as his calloused hands run over every inch of your bare skin. "You've always been so damn reckless," he grunts, lapping his tongue over your soft flesh and leaving more hickeys as he moves down. Your head falls back against the door and your shoulders draw together as he kisses down. One of his hands moves up and he starts playing with one of your breasts as he takes your nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it and closing his lips around it before giving a little tug on your other nipple with his thumb and pointer. His other hand is busy unbuttoning your pants, and his hand leaves your breast to pull them down around your hips as he detaches from your nipple and huffs. "So damn reckless, so damn stupid. You don't even recognize the fact you could have died trying to save me."

"I-I know damn well that I could have died, but I wasn't thinking about that at the time--" Your breath hitches as he tugs your pants and panties down around your legs. You kick your shoes off and he pulls your pants and panties off of you, leaving you entirely naked and subject to his gaze. He pulls back and his gaze roves over you, and his gaze softens just slightly before it hardens again and he stands up, leaning back into your neck and littering more hickeys there as your hands paw at his chest and tug at his shirt. You whimper whenever he takes your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head, a silent order for you to be patient. You're not having it though, and you grunt under your breath, pulling your hands free and bringing them to his shirt. He looks alarmed for a second and using his surprise against him, you pull his shirt up and off, and he grunts immediately.

"Damnit, girl," he hisses, but he lets you anyway. Your hands move to his pants and you start unbuttoning them, and he continues his ministrations as he kisses and bites your neck. One of your hands slips down his front, your eyes fluttering shut as you gently pull his cock free from the confines of his boxers. He's big. Not incredibly long, but he's thick, and heavy in your hands. You gasp and bite your bottom lip, trying to hide your satisfaction as you pump your hand around him, from base to tip. "Fuck." He hisses. He's going to stop you, but it feels too damn good to stop you just yet. Besides... this is the same thing he's dreamt about for months, and it's finally happening. He lets you continue for a few more seconds before he quickly hoists you up by your thighs, pinning you against the wall with his body.

Your gaze travels over him, taking in every inch of him. From his muscled chest, his arms, the tattoos on his arm, and then his hips-- his v-line, and his happy trail. Your gaze goes back up to his face, still partially obscured by the mask. So you reach up, tugging at the hem of it lightly to signal, 'off'. He chuckles just a little, feeling his chest swell slightly. He hesitates. His lust and that fluttery feeling in his stomach override his sense of rationality, and he lets you pull it off and throw it aside. You stare at him wide-eyed, taking in his features. He moves and grips the underside of your thighs a bit tighter, shifting a bit against you. You jolt when you feel the tip of his cock rest against your hole, and he leans forward, putting his face in your neck and slowly pushing into you. It doesn't hurt, not at all. You gasp when he sinks his cock into your heat, and your arms wrap around his neck and you cup the back of his head. He makes you feel so full, and your heart swells a little when you realize you're finally getting what you've wanted this entire time. He litters kisses and bites over your neck, his grip on your thighs tightening. He pulls his hips back, dragging his cock out of you before he bucks back into you, the head of his cock knocking against that gummy spot inside you. You mewl, tilting your head back as he bites down on that spot that makes your insides spasm on his cock.

He grunts and bucks into you once more, before adopting a smooth, rhythmic pace. He drags his cock out of you and then bucks back into you, the tip of it hitting that spot inside you each time. The sounds of wet skin on wet skin develop quickly, and he's grunting and groaning into your neck. He pulls back to look at you and his expression softens, his thrusts stuttering a bit. Your head is tilted back and your lips are parted as you whimper breathlessly, and it's like he's seeing you for the first time-- looking at you in that same loving, bewildered manner he did when you introduced yourself to him. His eyes sparkle, and a smile spreads across his lips.

"Fuckin' hell, girl... you're pretty, you know that?"

Your breath hitches whenever he addresses you so affectionately, and you lean forward to kiss him. He follows suit, and the moment your lips are on his, his hands slide up to cradle your ass as he adopts a new, quicker pace. You whimper into his mouth, and his tongue darts out to prod at your bottom lip, asking for entry. Your lips part and his tongue dips into your mouth, flicking against your own as his cock bullies into you over and over again, reaching deeper as he leans back and holds you up so your weight leans forward onto him a bit. You pull at his hair gently, teasingly, and he grunts and kisses you harder. You're moaning and whimpering. You have to pull away from the kiss to breathe, and when you do, his lips are on your neck again. Leaving dark hickeys, teeth nipping at your flesh as he pushes you up against the wall again and wraps one arm around your waist, his other hand sliding up your back and tangling in your hair, and he pulls it in retaliation to you pulling his. You whine when he does, and he bucks into you a particularly rough time, drawing another mewl from you. The way he's fucking into you has you seeing stars, and your eyes are rolling back into your head. All you can focus on is the sensation of his cock pumping into you over and over.

His grip on you tightens, and you feel his cock twitch inside you. He continues his pace, but you can tell he's getting close when he groans softly into your neck, tilting his head to nestle into your neck as he continues thrusting. You're getting close too, whining when that coil in your belly winds impossibly tight. You wrap your legs around his waist and you whimper. "Fuck, Ghost, m'close--" You feel his thrusts stutter again before he's groaning into your neck. "Say it, love." "Ghost..." You whine, your grip on his hair tightening when his thrusts suddenly cease, the pleasure fizzing away. "No, sweetheart, my real name. Say it, 'n that pretty voice of yours, and I'll consider letting you cum." You pause, and embarrassment swells in your chest, but you can feel your orgasm slipping away and you're quick to plead. "Simon, please..." "Yeah?" He chuckles quietly, kissing your cheek as he starts bucking into you again, a bit rougher this time. "You wanna cum?" You whimper in affirmation, and he whispers, "Then cum for me, sweet girl."

That's all it takes. Not even a second passes, and your walls squeeze on his cock and you're mewling as your orgasm wracks your body. His grip on you tightens and he leans in to kiss you and muffle your noises, nipping at your bottom lip as he bucks into you and buries himself into you as deeply as possible, bottoming out. You whimper when you feel ropes of his cum spill into you, and you're moaning breathlessly into his mouth and pulling his hair. (You're almost positive you told him you loved him.) He grunts and stays inside you. Your cunt spasms around him, and he grunts, withdrawing himself from your pussy. You feel just a bit of his cum dribble down your inner thighs as he slowly lowers you to the ground, littering loving little kisses over your face and running his fingers through your hair as the haziness of your orgasm fades. He guides you over to his bed and shifts you down onto it, getting himself dressed before he comes back to you with tissues in hand, wiping his cum from your inner thighs and pulling your panties back up your legs. He runs his fingers along the inner side of the hem to make sure they're in place. You're still panting, and a bit out of it from the entire experience. He pulls away and grabs one of his shirts, gently helping you put it on. You're enveloped with the scent of him, and it's a warm feeling. You feel the bed shift as his weight is added to it and he lays beside you, pulling you close and tucking your head into his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. You coo quietly and nuzzle into him in response, holding him close and tight. Your body is still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure, and being in Simon's arms has a smile spreading across your lips; one you just can't wipe off. "You know, if sprainin' my ankle and gettin' grazed by a bullet results in this... Might just do it again." "...Don't you dare."

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost cod #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 9 months ago

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v-neck blouses that you always had a few buttons undone on, skirts that rode up your legs, shirts that gave a slick peek to the lace bra you wore underneath when you leaned forward-- simon was just a man. he knew it was wrong of him to look at you that way. the last thing he wanted to do was sexualize you. but whenever you bent over in front of him, or leaned over the edge of his desk and made eye contact with him, giving those sultry eyes that made a lump form in his throat... he began to wonder if you were doing it on purpose. if maybe you knew what you were doing, and it was your intention. he began to realize that was indeed the case after you became more obvious with your advances. grazing against him when you went past, putting a hand on his shoulder... all of these things that culminated in him being unable to look you in the eyes without feeling his stomach stir and and tighten.

all those things culminated in this-- your body laying over the smooth surface of his hardwood desk, work cast aside as his hands traveled over your waist and hips. your back faced him, ass perched in the air as he had your skirt yanked to your knees. his hand slid down your side, and he drew it back before swatting your ass, the flesh already red from his previous slaps. you gasped, folding a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet. a chuckle rumbled in his chest as he rubbed his hand over the red marks. his gaze traveled over you, focusing on the way your legs pressed together and trembled when he touched you. his eyes stayed trained on the wet spot on your panties, and he sighed in amusement.

"come on, love, your legs are shaking already. don't tell me you can't take a bit 'f teasin'?"

you just whimper in response, pushing your hips up and gripping the edge of the desk as you push your legs apart. asking for something other than fleeting touches that left you tingling.

"hmm? wha's wrong?" he croons in feigned concern, his thumb dragging down over your clothed cunt, stopping just over your clit. he smirks slightly beneath the mask when you shudder once again, and his thumb travels in circles slowly, making you twitch and whimper. "tch... you wanted this. don't start whining."

you stuff your face into your arms, and he laughs quietly, watching you closely as his thumb ducks beneath the hem of your panties, going over your clit, rubbing smaller, tighter circles.

the coil builds in your stomach quickly. his hand twitches at his waist, and his dick twitches in his pants as well seeing the way you react to this touch.

"walkin' 'round in those skirts. askin' ta get fucked, n' now you can't handle it?" he chuckles. "poor girl."

then he removes his hand, pulling your panties back into place, pulling your skirt up and patting your ass. he wanted to fuck you, don't get him wrong-- but he wanted to see you writhe.

"go along now, girl. come back when you can handle me touching you."

#simon ghost riley #callsign datura #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw3

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callsign-datura · 1 year ago

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putrid pride

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader warnings: ghost being a dick, unrealistic character, sexual tension, oral (f receiving), ghost not fucking you as a punishment for you being a little brat a/n: he's had me in a chokehold for the past year. i kinda want to do a character analysis series not gonna lie song: get stoned ~ hinder

Sometimes you wondered why Price assigned you to be his partner. He thought it'd be a good learning experience for the both of you. Since you were a sergeant you were bossed around by everyone else already, and you've only been there for a few weeks. In most missions you've been assigned, Ghost has been part of it one way or another and you noticed that he treated you differently than his mates. Whether it was the fact you were a woman or the fact you were a talented sniper, or what, you didn't know. He always made these little jabs at you that could be passed off as light teasing or playful banter. You felt a bit crazy for thinking he was being rude to you because he wasn't rude to anyone else; why you? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Damnit," he grunted, his back towards you. "You always fuckin' do this." His tone was laced with anger and venom, and your heart sunk. "You never fuckin' listen." he hisses, turning around and taking a few steps towards you. The look in his eyes pissed you off. You made the right decision, or so you thought. Sure, you disobeyed his direct orders and nearly got yourself killed, but you completed the objective and came back in one piece. You got the intel, confirmed the target's identity and best of all, did it quick and quiet. Why was he angry? You did everything you thought you were supposed to, but here he had you, in his office and standing in front of his desk and staring at him blankly.

"You never fuckin' listen, always disobey my orders despite th' fact your ass would be dead right now if it weren't f'me." His accent is thick, his voice steadily rising as he gets more pissed. "Jesus fuckin' Christ!" In truth, he didn't even know why he was so angry. Was it because you had disobeyed his orders again, or was it the fact you almost got yourself hurt? Or maybe it was the fact you did the mission better than he would have? "I don't know why you're so intent on breakin' the goddamn rules, but it's gettin' old." He snaps, brown eyes piercing yours as he splays his hands out on the surface of his desk, leaning forward so his face was inches from yours, his breath fanning over your face, hot and smelling faintly of alcohol.

"Look, Lieutenant. I may have disobeyed your orders but I saved lives in the process--" "Nearly losing your own." "But I completed the objective." "But you put yourself in danger." "I came back in one piece, didn't I?" "Barely. You escaped that goddamn explosion by a hair." He hisses through gritted teeth, leaning back and putting his hand in his pocket. "You're always so reckless. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?" "You're one to talk about self-preservation," you snort, your eyes widening slightly in disbelief at the mention. "Don't tell me you've already forgotten the time you hopped in front of a bullet to keep a sergeant from taking it?" His eyebrows knit together and his eyes narrowed. "I knew what I was doin', girl. Don't question me or my choices. It's not your fuckin' place to do so."

You snorted again. "Oh, yeah? Don't like it when I call you on your bullshit, huh? If you would have done this, we would have been expected to thank you and ignore the fact you could have been killed. But the moment I do it, you get on my ass."

"I am your lieutenant. I make decisions, you follow them. You don't question why I do what I do. When I tell you to do something, you do it without a second thought. When I order you to not engage, you do not engage." He spits, his eyes narrowing further and his chest tightening in barely contained anger. "You're lucky I don't fuckin' suspend you. The decision you made was a thoughtless, reckless and stupid one." "At least Price would understand where I'm coming from."

His eyes widen, and he laughs. "You think he'd take your side?"

"I think he'd understand why I did what I did. I think he wouldn't give me bullshit for making the right decision."

"Well, sweetheart, that's the thing. He isn't your CO, I am. So if I'm givin' you bullshit for makin' a decision, you stand there and take it and make a goddamn change." You shake your head and laugh. "I know what I did was right. I'm not going to stand down just because you think my execution wasn't proper." He's practically fuming now. He feels his chest tighten further, and he balls his hands into fists. "You're such a brat. For what? Just because you wanna be right?" He steps around the desk, moving and getting in front of you, his frame towering over yours. "You wanna be right so goddamn bad because you're new, huh? You don't want people to think you're weak, hm?" He leans in, his face inches from yours once again as his hands tremble at his sides. Your eyes focus on his brown ones, piercing with a newfound depth you haven't seen before. You take in a breath through your nose and against your will you take notice of his cologne; woody, citrusy. He's so close to you. You feel your body start to tingle a bit from the closeness and the tension.

"Oh, well, look at that..." His head tilts, his eyes softening for just a moment. "Now you've got nothin' to say?" He says, his tone faintly mocking as he backs you up against the wall. He's painfully aware of this situation and he's painfully aware of the source of these feelings, but he's refusing to see it. He's stubborn and he knows you are too. "Nothin' to fuckin' say cause I'm in your face?" He growls, his gaze burning holes into you. He brings his hands upwards and cages you against the wall, looking down at you with an intense mix of lust and anger. To him, it's just pure emotion and you feel slightly intimidated by this newfound situation. So, you do the only thing you know how to do. "Fuck you," you hiss, moving onto your tiptoes to get in his face in return. A chuckle leaves his throat in a growl and he doesn't back down. If anything, he finds this show of dominance to be... charming. Endlessly fucking irritating, but charming. Some twisted part of him wants to crush it; crush your insubordination, make you finally respect him. He takes in a breath and the hairs on his neck stand up as your scent wafts over his senses, and his eyes twitch briefly before he grunts and moves closer. "So fuckin' feisty. But we both know you've got nothin' more than bark." He murmurs, his voice raspy and low and with a tone that makes your heart thump in your chest and your cunt pulse between your legs. Despite yourself, you feel him leeching the fight from your body. You growl slightly. "You don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, your tone just as low as his as your gaze searches his for something other than this overwhelming lust.

"I think I do." He murmurs, tilting his head and leaning in so he's right near your ear. You ball your hands into fists. "I don't think you can fight me, cause you don't wanna. You like it when we get into this, don't you?" He questions, one of his hands coming up and cupping your cheek. "I think you like seein' me pissed. I think you like bein' a fuckin' brat 'cause you know it irritates me, an' you wanna see what I'll do..." He smirks, and you can hear it in the way he talks. "Well, I think I know how to solve your little problem now, eh?" He moves, his hand coming down and cupping your throat, applying gentle pressure to keep you against the wall as he moves back, pulling his mask over his nose and leaning back in to nip at your earlobe. You grunt and you feel yourself melting in his grasp. His other hand comes and holds your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt as he tilts his head and kisses at the flesh of your neck his hand doesn't engulf. Your body heats up and you suck in a gasp, tilting your head back slightly and unintentionally revealing more of your neck to him. "Mm-hmm." He murmurs. "Yeah, all bark, no fuckin' bite. You wanna be all tough? Takes more than just an act, sweetheart," he grumbles, words punctuated by rough little nips to the flesh of your throat as he withdraws his hand and slides it down your side and to your hips. He moves and lifts your shirt and once again, despite yourself, you lift your arms to make it easier for him. He throws it aside and his gaze travels over you hungrily, focusing on the curves of your chest and your waist, and the way your jeans sit on your hips. He grunts quietly and dives back into your neck, holding your hips and drawing you against him as he starts kissing and biting at your neck with renewed vigor. One of his hands slides to your ass, giving a little squeeze as he hoists you up, still assaulting your neck with kisses and bites. You whine out at him, the sensation making you shudder. He chuckles against your flesh and his other hand is already working at the button of your jeans.

He sets you down, working your pants and panties down your legs, tugging them off hastily before he's kneeling in front of you. A wave of embarrassment comes over you as he gazes up at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He grunts slightly and his gaze flickers to your cunt. He slides his hand up the back of your thigh and down before cupping your knee and pulling your leg up and to the side, humming in satisfaction at the way you follow suit and open yourself up for him. His gaze focuses on your cunt, glistening with your slick. You're soaked. He sees it, and he smirks and chuckles a bit when he sees your cheeks flush red. "Pretty fuckin' cunt," he murmurs, before leaning forward and letting his eyes flutter shut as he drags his tongue along your folds, letting out another hum as he tastes you. He grunts and his grip on your leg tightens, his free hand cupping your ass and squeezing as he slips his tongue between your folds and drags it upward along your clit. He swirls it with the tip of his tongue before closing his lips around it to suck gently, grunting as he tastes you and he feels you tremble. Your eyes roll back in your head and you tilt your head back against the wall, your hips arching forward in attempt to get more of that stimulation. He chuckles at your eagerness, giving your ass another squeeze. "Patience, dear." He murmurs against your cunt, before swirling his tongue over your clit with ease and pushing it down, teasing your hole with it before he pushes it inside briefly, moving back up to flick his tongue over your clit in a new pattern that has you trembling and whimpering in seconds. The hand gripping your ass comes to your cunt, and he rolls his pointer and middle fingertip against your hole, gathering your slick. You jolt at the feeling of his cool flesh and you whimper eagerly yet again, a harsh gasp leaving your lips as he pushes those fingers into you. Your walls make an embarrassingly wet noise as he sinks his fingers into your plush heat, and your face flushes and warms up. You're too distracted about how good it feels. He grunts in satisfaction once more, curling his fingers and brushing the tips against that spot along your walls that has your vision going white.

At the same time, he swirls his tongue a bit faster over your clit, using the opportunity of dual stimulation to send you spiraling. And he does, successfully. Your leg trembles and tenses, and your walls squeeze around his fingers as he laps at your cunt like a man starved. He grunts against you as you mewl and the coil in your belly tightens before releasing. Within seconds, you're coming undone on his fingers your back is arching, your hips are bucking, and your hands are pulling him closer. Your vision goes white and you throw your head back, your lips falling apart in a whine of his name, your fingers grasping at the fabric of his balaclava. Your walls tighten again on his fingers, and he helps you ride the orgasm out before he's gently pulling away and dragging his fingers out of your sensitive cunt. You pant and tilt your head forward, watching him withdraw his fingers from you. You whimper at the feeling and you tense up, your gaze flickering to his mouth. You're sensitive, but as you watch him kneeling under you, you find yourself wanting more. He smirks as he notes the way you're looking at him. It's taking a lot of restraint for him to not bend you over his desk and pound you senseless, but... he has a point to make here. He gets to his feet and he looks down at you, cupping your face and placing a chaste kiss to your forehead. "Get yourself dressed. Y've got some training to do." You swallow and blink up at him. "W-Wait... that's... it? You're not gonna--" "Fuck you?" He laughs, as if the suggestion is odd. Your face flushes in embarrassment. "Not after the way you've been actin', love." He murmurs, kissing your forehead. "If you start behavin', then maybe I'll consider givin' you what you really want, eh?"

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