#mw2 drabble

[mrs-ghost-2]

Suggestive themes! 18+ only!

Something something lumberjack!Simon being absolutely feral for you after a fight where he says something stupid and you slap him without thought.

You’re never violent. Have never raised your voice at him, or at anyone for that matter. You never cuss, never instigate, you’re polite. But him smarting off without thought and having you open-palm slap him across the face drove him insane. He barely felt it, barely registered it. But the thought of you being violent, that you did it because you felt something so strongly in regards to him, had him rock hard and absolutely foaming at the mouth.

Your eyes widen and you instantly start to apologize, but his mouth slanted across yours seconds later and it had the apology halting in the back of your throat. You’re putty in his hands, which is good because he’s pawing at your hips and ass while walking you backwards to press up against the hood of his truck.

“So fuckin’ hard for ya, sweet’eart.” Simon groans against your lips, teeth clashing and tongue sliding against yours in a dirty glide.

“M’sorry, Si. Didn’t mean to.” You’re able to mutter between rough passes of lips and teeth, but he’s just shaking his head as he wraps both hands around your hips to lift you onto the hood.

“Nothin’ t’be sorry for, lovie. S’my fault anyways.”he replies on a breath, slotting himself between your spread thighs and dragging his hands up your back to tangle in your hair. He’s using one hand to hold your neck while the other is tugging your hair back to arch your neck and jaw for his rough ministrations.

“M’not violent though. S’not right of me.” You try again, panting and sighing deep in your chest as his stubbled cheeks scratch at your skin while he sucks hickies and bite marks into the delicate skin of your throat and shoulder.

“Hot as fuck is wha’ it is.” Simon retorts, using the excuse of removing his mouth to talk to bite a little too hard into the meat of your collarbone.

“Fuck, Simon. Too hard.” But your hips are still rocking against his body where your legs are wrapped around his broad frame.

“Sorry, sweet’eart. My bad.” But he’s grinning mischievously, not really sorry at all.

You roll your eyes and laugh, wrapping your own hand around the back of his neck to bring him back in for another kiss and another taste.

[yawnderu]

Simon Riley, whose most intimate display of trust is laying naked with you. He's not only trusting you with his body, but his soul. His scars tell stories that will never come out of his lips, leaving him as an enigma even when you're married.

He almost flinches out of reflex when your soft hand drifts down to his ribs, caressing the scars that being hung from a meat hook left him. Memories of Roba and the torture in Mexico fill his brain no matter how hard he tries to simply focus on how perfectly your body fits against his, skin on skin.

It takes a few seconds for him to snap out of it, distant gaze met by teary eyes and a trembling lower lip, your heart hurting for him. Burly arms wrap around your waist, bringing you even closer, his chest tight against yours, hearts touching— the way they were always meant to be.

His eyes go to the ring on his finger, gaze immediately softening, only holding you even closer when he feels your tears moistening up his bare neck, rubbing your back in a silent offer of comfort.

Thank you for this second chance at life.

[angelatsumu]

thinking of husband!simon who can't get enough of making you cum. nsfw under the cut. | husband!simon, overstimulation (kinda), fingering

“surely you can give me another, lovie” your husband taunts you, eyes peering at your reflection in the mirror. he’s got your legs spread for him, trapped under his own legs as his fingers—middle and ring—find themselves curled deep within your cunt. he’s smirking at you teasingly while your head’s rested against his shoulder. normally he hates when your eyes break contact with his, but today he allows your brief reprieve from his gaze because he’s feeling generous. truthfully speaking, he knows he’ll be asking for ‘just one more’ at least two more times before you’re boneless before him. your lover curls his fingers along the spongy cushion buried within your walls, prodding the soft material with a coy grin splayed across his features. his eyes are sharp as he watches your hips wriggle against the assault in a weak attempt to free yourself. he’s feeling generous, so he lets that silly little action go unpunished. he figures he’ll tax you for each offense; give him one more for his troubles, sweet girl. you whine at the intoxicating thrusts of his digits against you, body overheating as the coil within your abdomen winds tight. the sounds of your squelching cunt makes your cheeks heat with embarrassment, only worsened with the teasing lilt of your husband’s filthy words in your ear. “doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. ‘s almost too much isn’t it, baby?” he sounds like pure sin, panting as though the sheer feel of your cunt squeezing his fingers would do him in. you both know it would; your lover could cum with the sheer feel of your cunt spasming around his tongue, let alone his fingers. he’s hard against your ass, and each wiggle and writhe of your sweet hips making him grunt deeply against your skin. the tightening in your cunt alongside the soft moans of his name let your lover know you’re so close to the edge, so close that you can practically already taste it. he knows, and he makes sure you reach that peak quicker by circling your hard, throbbing clit with his thumb. “oh, sweet girl,” your husband coos at you as your orgasms crests, leaving you trembling in his grasp. Simon’s a bit cruel with the way he thrusts his fingers harder against that sweet spot while spewing filthily in your ear. it’s too much, always too much when he’s this sexy and all yours before him. as you ride out your orgasm, he coaxes you into rocking your hips against his thick fingers. “ride my hand baby, watch yourself ride my fuckin’ hand,” he moans in your ear, free hand gripping your jaw and forcing your gaze to your reflection in the mirror. the sight is enough to have your cunt squeezing his fingers so tight he could barely move, huffs and whines slipping from your pretty lips while he continues his assault on your overstimulated cunt. “please, Si” you whimper with warmed cheeks, eyes pleadingly looking into his own. he lets out a gruff groan, relishing in the tears that speckle your lash line. “just one more,”he lies to you, and you whimper softly knowing it’d be far more than one before you were done.

a/n: rbs + likes greatly appreciated. also, taking requests. also also, if you'd like the insanely long (and kinda fanon/self-indulgent) oneshot i wrote for halloween!simon, lmk

[tokusho]

I couldnt sleep so heres a little fluffy thing for everyone!

Ghost x GN!Reader

You lay in bed with the covers pulled up to your nose. You hold a pillow with your husband’s shirt over it. He has been gone for months for a mission you could never know about. You smell the t-shirt again trying to find a sense of comfort while he’s gone.

The bed is too cold and quiet, the room is void of noise. The lonliness was starting to gnaw at you, the need to have a warm body next to you was overwhelming. You stare into the darkness wishing that he’d come home soon. Your eyes start to flutter feeling exhausted from the day until you hear the front door open.

He’s home.

You raise from bed tripping over yourself to get untangled from the bedsheet and quickly going to the stair case. You see him close the door quietly behind him locking the door. He shucks off his boots and places them the shoe rack next to the door.

His shoulders are slouched exhausted, you can see how he winces as he stands back up. You hope he’s not too injured from this mission.

“Simon?”, your voice echoes through the house

His head snaps towards you still running on adrenaline, before relaxing with a sigh. He takes off his mask pocketing it into his trousers, his eyes softening at the sight of you.

He ascends the stairs as you descend meeting each other in the middle. Tears gather in your eyes with a wobbly smile.

“Hi Simon”

“Hello love”

Tears fall down your cheeks, you can feel his calloused fingers wipe them away. You wrap your arms around his neck burying your face into your neck relieved that he’s home. Your hands wander every part of him confirming that he’s truly home.

Gently he picks you up leading you back to your bedroom.

“No more tears, I’m home.”

You nod taking a couple deep breaths calming yourself. He gently takes your hands off of him to quickly toss off his clothes into some shadowy corner.

You lay down with him next to you feeling like this is all just a dream. Ghost chuckles when he sees one of his old shirts on a pillow.

“You really did miss me huh”

You nod and he kisses the crown of your forehead tucking your head into the crook of his neck. Simon hands snake around your waist and your circle his.

Simons hands wander your body and smelling the scent of your shampoo. No more gunpowder and blood, no more screams of the dying, just his love and a comfortable bed.

Everything feels so much more right. The bed is the perfect size, its so nice and warm, and the sound of his heartbeat calms your mind. Your eyes start to flutter shut again but you want to spend more time with Simon.

His hand pets your head as he whispers in your ear, “Sleep well love, I’ll be here when you wake up”

Your mind drifts off to sleep now at peace knowing that he’s safe in your arms once again.

[sunflowersoldat]

~Pretty Little Liar~ Burning Pages AU

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

Ghost has been off lately, reader isn't too happy about his behavior and confronts him.

Warnings: none really, angst, mild language, anger.

Wordcount: 752

This next mission had everyone on edge during the briefing. You couldn’t really focus on what Price was saying, you’re too caught up in your own thoughts as your eyes land on Ghost once again.

As everyone filed out of the conference room to prepare for the mission, Ghost stayed, focusing on the mission plans covering the table. You lagged behind, closing the door softly, locking it. Only the two of you remained, the windows were shuttered, blocking prying eyes, this wasn’t a conversation that needed an audience.

“Do you ever just stop?” you ask, lightheartedly, attempting to start a conversation. You grimace, that came out harsher than you meant for it to. It didn't seem to bother him though, going in one ear and out the other. Ghost is still working, planning. Which is good, yes, but he doesn’t stop. 

Ever.

The fact that he blatantly ignores you strikes a nerve. Though he hasn’t been mean to you or treated you badly, he’s been distant since that night in the safehouse, he’s been quiet. Or at least quieter than usual, if that is possible.

It hurts. He was so different that night, you actually began to think the two of you had something, obviously you were wrong. That night replays in your mind, over and over again especially when you're alone. You find yourself longing for his presence and casual conversation; you miss his banter and dark humor.

You bite your lip, as you step closer– “Ghost.” –you try again, but he just hunkers down over the mission plans. You sigh loudly, “The least you could do is acknowledge my existence, Lieutenant.” you ground out in a biting tone, causing him to shift uncomfortably; so he is listening…

You move opposite of him on the table, though your patience is wearing thin, you try again calmly, holding back your anger, “Ghost?”

You don’t understand what's happening, neither of you had been drinking that night, the mission before had gone swimmingly, so there shouldn’t have been stress forcing him to behave the way he did. Did you do something wrong? Had you imagined the details? The pieces of his soul he had bared for you. Did you read too far into things? Your head was spinning, heart racing in your chest, your blood boiled, he could at least be honest with you, tell you how it was. But instead he was acting like… this. It reminds you of the first time you met him, he was closed off then, before you shoved your way into his heart– even if it was only platonically– you enjoyed him.

He only sighs, adjusting his hands on the table, with his mask covering his face, you can’t get a read on him.

Fine.

He wants to play it this way, you can match his energy. Growling you shove your hands across the table, throwing the papers across the room, watching them scatter on the floor, “Simon!”

His eyes scald you as they snap to you, pinning you to your spot at the table, you flinch as if you can physically feel the burn.

“Don’t you have a mission to be prepping for, sergeant?” His tone is calm, unbothered.

What the fuck?!

You can’t see straight, what the fuck is his problem? If he thought that night was a mistake or an easy one-off situation, he could have at least told you. “Fuck you.” you growl as you make your way to the door.

Unlocking it you turn back for a second, he is still standing at the table, but no longer hunkered over, “You could have at least told me I was a one night stand.” you snarl as you move to slam the door.

Ghost catches it mid slam, ripping it back open causing you to spin around, back into the room. His hand is on your throat in seconds, shoving you against the wall. You flush, body reacting to his actions. He shuts the door softly, eyes full of fire turning on you as his hand moves from your throat to your mouth. You swallow hard, eyes meeting his, he’s so close you can make out the flecks of amber in his brown irises.

“If you’re going to tell yourself lies with that pretty little mouth of yours, at least make them believable.” he counters in a gruff whisper, before dropping his hand and walking out of the room calmly, leaving you behind.

You don’t move, you can’t speak. 

What the fuck just happened?

@daiseychaindisaster @tianamontag @texan-tazzy @silently-killing-you @ojouhama

[orbitganymede]

baby daddy simon who dated you for a year before you got pregnant, you’d gone through most of the pregnancy alone, him being deployed 3 weeks after you found out and gone until the very last month of it. the both of you had tried at keeping the relationship together, but the distance and loneliness got to you, you’d been fine when it was just you but now with baby, you can’t let the father go in and out of their life. he wasn’t very happy with the decision to end your relationship, in his mind you were together forever now, tied together by this beautiful thing you two created, he didn’t even want children before you told him you were expecting but his whole world view changed when he realized that he not only had you to protect but a baby as well.

but you’d moved out against his wishes, finding a small flat you like and making it home for you and baby. he would come over sometimes, when he could, and spend some time with baby but honestly he felt more like some glorified uncle, would be convinced he was nothing to this child until he saw those brown eyes staring back at him, the ones that are so completely his, and he comes to the conclusion that this isn’t gonna work.

he starts small, coming over once a week instead of every other weekend, takes the two of you out for dinner instead of letting you cook or ordering in. stays late enough that you offer him the spare bed in the guest room, even with the distance you’ve put between yourselves, you can’t help but care for him, knowing nobody else will.

then he puts more pressure on you, making sure you see just how valuable he is, taking night shift feedings and waking up early with baby when they’re fussy. he offers to take baby for the night so you can go out with your friends, do things you haven’t been able to since baby’s arrival, even pays for a spa day for you to really relax. he stocks your fridge, full of the snacks you love and a bottle of wine for the hard nights. he buys and sets up new decor in the house, finally gets you the pretty white vanity and a new washing machine that doesn’t squeak. he really just does what he considers ‘husband duties’, things that he should have been doing this whole time.

and when you don’t budge on the separation, he goes nuclear, “no, love, i haven’t seen your birth control pills”, “look how cute this baby is, remember when ours was that small, sweetheart”, “you’re so stressed darling, let me help you” which basically means you end up getting rawdogged within an inch of your life, condom long forgotten, one of simons hands held over your mouth to muffle the sounds you’re making. he just hopes he’d tracked your cycle right, that you’re actually ovulating, because you can’t possible refuse his ring after having two of his babies right? you wouldn’t do that to him, would you pet?

[itsoutrageouss]

It’s the first time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that something in him changes profoundly. You had always had your different skill sets out on the field, it was what made you such a powerful duo for the task force. You were sly, agile, a killer in the dark and he was a brute show of force and strength, able to kill with his bare hands. You argued a lot, though. Your differences that made you work so well also made you clash time and time again. He found you annoying. You found him arrogant.

But after a mission, Ghost finds you collapsed on the floor in an empty building— Crying. He’d never seen you do that before, but he knew you were a softer more sensitive soul, you were just good at hiding it.

He was moving before he realised it, crouching down in front of you, eyes narrowed as he tried to find your gaze that was lost in a heap of warm tears. His hands got clammy and his throat dry because how could he make it stop? It was like the sight had reached in and seized a part of him long gone, maybe one he’d never found before now.

“Stop crying.” He said foolishly, but his tone had lost its usual edge, and the very rare lilt of pleading had laced into his voice. Why did he suddenly grab your shoulders and press your trembling body into his? He had no clue but he wanted to shield you from whatever had made you look so vulnerable before him.

A part of him didn’t like seeing this, didn’t recognise the garbled sound of soft sobs, the way your body’s strength seemed to evaporate into a fragile, soft one that he wanted to pick up and put back together. Another part of him was sucking in this moment, afraid it would get lost and maybe feeling a bit guilty about it. But this feeling of… was it protection? Protection, yes. He’d never had it like this before. Usually, protecting means killing and hurting. Right now it meant nurturing as your small hands reached around his neck and you curled into him. He reacted immediately, sitting down and scooping you into his lap.

He closed his eyes, his chin resting on your head with a sigh. He had no idea what came next. This had to change your dynamic in some way because he couldn’t ever look at you the same. He saw your softness and maybe he fell in love with it right there, and wanted to be the one you showed it to. Only him.

“Im sorry” You whispered into his chest. His hands flexed around you, fighting the urge to smother you even more against him.

“Dont say that. Just keep holding onto me.” His voice was more hoarse than usual as his fingers unconsciously combed through your hair.

Whatever had happened, he was sure you felt it too, or you would’ve never let him this close. And he wished for everything you would let him again one day.

series masterlist

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

filthy older bf simon riley

—ㅤ ꒰ྀིㅤ simon riley x reader ಿৎ

mentions of: oral (m) receiving, vaginal sex, age gap (legal - simon in his early-mid 30’s reader in early 20s), slight breeding kink, unprotected sex

older! bf simon riley that’s just disgustingly filthy when it comes to you.

older bf simon would have no shame in grabbing your ass or tits, his large tatted hand giving your perky ass a harsh slap, or shamelessly squeezing the fat on your tits. “come on, ‘m just appreciating my girl,” he grunted whenever others stared.

he loves a good quickie.

having your moans muffled by his large hand as his cock splits your glossy cunt in half, the lewd squelching sound filling up the small room. “hear that luvie? yer pussy luvs this.” the room would end up smelling like sex and sweat, the two of your body’s glistening as simon rutted into you. simon never missed an opportunity to tease you about the age gap, “love gettin’ fucked by a man a decade older hm? getting dumbed out on his cock.”

simon absolutely loved watching you drool all over his cock.

he could coo at the sight of you all messy and dumb, your pink glossy lips smeared with your mascara running down. simon would spit in your mouth beforehand, ensuring that you had enough slobber to drool all over your chin, making a sticky mess on your hands. “‘s a messy girl luvie.” he would shove his fingers inside your mouth, making you gag slightly,

his tone soft and teasing a he tapped on your cheek, “make sure yer breathing yeah? can’t have you passin’ out on me.” you nodding slowly as your nose was nestled into his messy pubes. once he comes down your throat he would make sure that you swallowed each drop, forcing your head down all the way, “don’t be wasteful yeah? need to fill you up.” after simon would pry your mouth open with his fingers, making sure that you obeyed. “‘m just checkin’ luvie”

simon loved covering you with his cum he would come on your face, gluing your lashes together as his large hand smears it all over your cheeks. same went for your tits, coating them with his sticky cum as he continued fucking them, your skin glistening whilst making the most wet and squelching sounds with simon’s cock sliding in between your breasts. “they’re so damn pretty baby, ‘m luv em so much.”

simon loves the idea of breeding you, the thought of you all round and plump whilst carrying his own child made his ego swell. he would beg to come inside, “please luvie? you’d look so perfect all round, i’ll make you my sweet little house wife yeah? lookin’ all pretty while i work.” as an extra precaution he would come multiple times, enough where it made a sticky mess on your inner thighs and it leaking out even with his cock stuffed inside you.

[millzinterlude]

Pt. 2 Pt 3

Okay but what about autistic!Simon Riley bagging a beautiful bombshell of a woman just by simply being weird and abnormal about his interests?? He meets this pretty bird at a pub. You’re sexy in an effortless way, looking him up and down and giving him pretty smiles. He’s a bit aloof, but he also thinks you’re pretty. So when you approach him the first thing that spills out of his mouth is “I have a lot o’ guns inside my house.” It takes you by surprise. You just smile and nod, a little freaked out by it and he takes that as the chance to continue. Even pulls out a knife. “This one ‘ere is Riley. Real special t’me, gets the job done. Quick ‘n easy. Y’wanna hold ‘er?” He sticks a large hand out, offering you his knife. You hold it, letting the weight of it rest in your hands, you give him an awkward smile. He gives you a slight grin, thinking he’s really got you in the bag. So he pulls out his phone, showing you pictures of guns. One in particular being a picture of a L115A3. “‘S a damn good sniper. Ever seen someone get hit bullseye in the head with its bullet? No’ a pretty sight I’ll tell you that much, but she’s a right beaut. Silent and efficient.” He rambles about how he knows to use it and how he can easily take it apart and put it back together again. You have to admit, it’s hot. Watching him rattle on and on about a plethora of guns shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. So you just smile and nod, actually listening to him and boy does that excite him. He ends up taking you to his flat, holding up and showing you every gun while you throat him and listen <3.

[dmitriene]

cw: könig is a weirdo and reader match him.

könig likes pretty things, young and vulnerable dolls that bat their eyelashes prettily at him, wrapping their dainty hands around his thick bicep, trailing beside him despite his perverse touch, letting him lure them to his messed bed in some dark apartment, fuck their brain silly.

it's always a one time thing, könig ain't good for a long term relationship because of the bitter need to posses that been festering in him from the start, they just use each other, he has a lovely built body that makes girls salivate, and he packs a cock that is too thick you able to feel the ache even the next morning while trying to escape his apartment.

it's not the same with you, könig notices it by the way you cling to him while he punches his fat cock in your tight pussy, shallow thrusts of his wide hips making his thick cockhead pummel into your spongy spot, your hands clinging against his broad shoulders, walls tightening with rapid pulsing.

you ask him for kisses, enveloping his rough mug with your delicate palms and letting his tongue make out sloppily with your mouth, whining broken groans as he presses a wide palm to your tummy, feeling the bulge beneath where his girthy cock pistons in you, making your pussy squelch with each wet glide, as you coat his length in oozing slick.

you even let könig cum in you, flooding you full of creamy cum that drips out your pulsing hole, making a mess from the sheets and your trembling thighs, not uttering for once that now everything is tacky, instead, you curl against him like affectionate kitten and try to nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck and wrap your cramping legs around his waist.

könig doesn't even knows what to think, you don't try to escape his bed immediately, instead pressing your naked body against his beefy one, letting his twitching cock stay buried inside of you, cockwarmed by your snug walls, as you let his burly hands envelope your frame and rock you to sleep like a baby.

and when you wake up early in the morning with pleasurable ache in your body and pussy throbbing, welcomed by the sight of breakfast in bed and könig clinging to you like a pup, smothering your neck in sloppy kisses and slurringly calling you his girlfriend, you don't run away.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[theorist-fox]

Can I interest you in some silly sex with Simon? 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️

18+

Word count: 1k.

CW: nothing really. Just silly sex. Just giggling sex. Just I-need-to-give-this-man-some-humanity sex. Simon is ticklish and you find out, that's the plot.

Masterlist 🦊

You look delectable straddling his hips.

Naked and soft, plump tits sitting prettily in his hands. His thumbs swipe idly around your perked nipples as you ride him slowly, early morning sun peeking through the curtains and lapping at your skin. What a way to wake up, what a sight.

He stares at your lips and how they part for him—something he still has to get used to, though he probably never truly will. How dulcet does his name sound if it’s your voice whispering it, how beautiful your eyes when they take in his face.

Soft hands are pressed on his chest for leverage, and you’re treating him with a view he keeps pinned to the forefront of his brain—gliding your cunt until you’re chock-full of him, stroking yourself until you’re shivering.

He likes it when he’s on top, sure. He’s used to taking the lead and orchestrating every detail, in and out of the job. 

But when you allow him to sit back and take it? Hell, sign him up. He’d do it every day. Especially when it’s this lazy sex here, in which you’re canting your hips to cum before he does, giving him the blissful chance of feeling you clench around him when he's still hard. 

Goosebumps rise under your nails as they graze down his chest and brush his stomach. Your hands wander blindly on his belly, then his sides, as you clock his eyes with your heavy ones, panting softly, idly—my beautiful, beautiful girl.

But then you inadvertently brush his ribs, and he stiffens—even squirms, and your movements come to a halt.

You blink as conscience returns to you slowly, and the room sinks into tense silence. His cock twitches inside of you when you tilt your head inquisitively, squinting your eyes.

Experimentally, you brush your fingertips against his ribs again, and his biceps flatten to his sides, trapping your hands.

Your eyes widen, and his do the same.

“Don’t.”

You gasp, “Oh my God.”

“Darling, no.” He warns, but you’ve clearly made up your mind already.

Your lips are curled in a smile that promises mischief, and he can only give up, sit back, and count his losses.

“Darling, yes.”

Simon feels your fingers wiggle under the tight press of his arms, but no matter his strength, they're seemingly useless against that playful resolve you're displaying.

His cock is still embarrassingly hard inside you, and Simon reckons it won't soften any time soon. You don’t seem eager to get off him either, thus prolonging the torture with each tiny movement you make.

He inhales sharply and fights tooth and nail to school his expression into neutrality. His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is locked tight. The only thing giving him away is the flush of his cheeks, getting pinker by the second because he refuses to open his mouth to breathe a much-needed lungful of air. Knowing that if he would, he'd bark a laugh that would proclaim you as the winner of this fight.

He would never.

You roll your hips, then—cheap trick. He unravels with a shaky breath, and his biceps give out enough for you to slip your hands away.

And then, he knows he's done for.

“Cut it out.” He barks, trying to sound stern and miserably failing. He knows because you're laughing even harder.

Your fingers feel like tiny bugs crawling up his sides, and they make his breath catch in his throat.

“Never.” You say, with a grin that scrunches your nose. A smile that would normally make his heart throb, but right now just makes him wish he were a lesser man so he could throttle you.

“Fuckin’-“

You chuckle.

You evil little cunt.

Resistance lasts a few more seconds before he bursts.

It’s not a full laugh that leaves him; more of a wheeze that makes you chortle like a wicked witch. His chest heaves as your fingers frantically tickle his sides. Tries to get you off him by shaking his hips, but that only makes the two of you falter and moan, and then chuckle and catch your breaths.

His shoulders shake in a breathless, choking laugh that pitches upward as you continue with your assault (yes, assault—he is not being dramatic), eyes veiled with tears of frustration and mirth. He shrieks when your hands travel under his armpits—the sound makes you giggle in a way that would have him melt. 

“That laugh’s lovely, baby.” You say with a smarmy grin he wishes he could wipe with a kiss, hands unrelenting against his sides. “Sound like a kettle whistling.”

He tries to glower and push you off, but you’re surprisingly strong when you’re focused. Right now, your only goal is to apparently make him hate you—he'd rather be held at gunpoint than being forced to hold in a laugh that makes his stomach hurt.

Simon now looks shockingly harmless, with his cheeks flushed bright red and his voice an octave too high—wouldn't look dangerous if he tried.

“Tea ready, yet?” You add, batting your lashes, because why not rub salt into the already embarrassing wound marring his pride.

It’s that unfathomably stupid joke that finally makes Simon crack. He barks out a laugh that bubbles up his throat, rippling through his stomach so suddenly that you bounce above him. Your own laugh follows soon after, because each time you manage to steal one from him, your heart vibrates with loving triumph.

But still—he is Simon Riley, isn’t he? Member of Task Force 141. Lieutenant in the UK Special Forces, SAS. The Ghost. There is some pride in there, one he'd like to keep intact.

He tries to recollect his breath, sniffling, and his arms shoot out to wrap around your waist. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him.

It’s then that you find yourself in a position of utter disadvantage, on your back with your big brute of a boyfriend holding you down. You’re wide-eyed and still smiling with barely contained giggles, and he’d be lying if he said it doesn't make his heart soar.

Sure, he’s panting, still proper flushed and apple-cheeked, with shivers wrecking his spine and unshed tears in his eyes—but he takes great pride in having won yet another fight (again, not overreacting at all, if you ask him).

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

You fix him with a look. “Simon, no.”

Before you can add more to your complaint, he rams his cock into you until your chest stutters, your lips mouthing around a shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

He fucks you into the mattress, then—once, twice, until the remnants of laughter vanish from your face and you’re trembling in bliss, eyes rolled back under heavy eyelids.

He places a sloppy kiss down to your collarbone.

“Simon, yes.”

[mrs-ghost-2]

Something something maintenance!Simon and how you’ve had to call him multiple times this past month over various things that have broken in your apartment. Stupid, old building and the awful plumbing. Crumbling bricks and faulty fuses. Dishwasher that leaks if you run it on anything other than a delicate cycle.

What maintenance!Simon doesn’t tell you (not that he talks much anyways) is that he’s the one that’s been messing with everything in your apartment. Not sneaking in, but while he’s there working on something else of yours. You don’t hover while he works and he knows this building like the back of his hand so it takes mere seconds for him to losen a bolt or flip a fuse or not tighten a clasp. He can’t help it, honest. Not when you look so good in your comfy clothes, hair thrown up haphazardly because he comes so early in the morning that you aren’t ready for work yet.

He lives for the fresh-faced, glassy-eyed look you give him in the morning as you open the door with a steaming cup of coffee already in your hand. He mutters a simple greeting and asks what the issue is today. You open the door wider for him to enter, chest barely moving as he brushes past because he’s so tall and wide that, of course, his biceps brush across your chest and it takes everything in him to not moan from now knowing you don’t wear a bra when he’s over.

You tell him it’s the washer this time. It fills, sure, but then the clothes just sit there. No spinning, no draining, nothing. It wasn’t your own washer, it was there when you moved into this unit so you didn’t know anything specific. But you about had this grown man on his knees when you leaned over the washer, stretching out on your tiptoes and back extended to show him where the pipes and everything connected to the wall.

Let me know if you want this continued! The NSFW version or the fluffier version 🫡 as always, likes and reblogs are amazing but I live for feral comments 💙

[angelovi]

Simon that goes feral after seeing you wear his dog tags.

"Hm what's that you're wearing love? Those my dog tags?"

You give him a supple nod in return, a light blush dusting your cheeks.

"Where'd you find that hm?" He approaches you slowly with a smirk plastered on his face.

"I found it on your desk.. didn't think you'd mind.." You try your best to sound confident, yet you fail miserably.

He holds your chin between his two fingers, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. "I ever tell you how gorgeous you look?"

"Everyday." You gaze up at him, your innocence showing.

"Good," he whispers softly, his breath warm against your skin, before closing the distance between you and drawing you into a kiss.

Lifting you gently by your thighs, he carries you with ease to the warmth of your shared bedroom. As he crosses the threshold, the soft glow of the lighting wraps around you both. He sets you down on the plush fabric of the bed, the comforting texture embracing you as you sink into it.

In a swift motion, he pulls off his pants, the fabric pooling on the floor, and then settles onto the bed beside you, his skin warm against the sheets. An idea flickers in his eyes, and a light smirk crosses his face.

“Need to see you ride me.” He guides you to straddle him, before slipping your shirt off and pushing your panties to the side, bullying himself in. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp as he moves fervently, showing no signs of slowing down.

He gazes his eyes to the dog tag that's wrapped around your precious neck.

The atmosphere in the room thickens with a mix of hushed gasps and soft moans. Simon's heavy breathing cuts through the tension as pleasure envelopes him, growing more urgent.

“Tell me how good it feels love.”

As you near the edge, words struggle to get out, the only thing audible is your gasps.

“C’mon. Use your words,” he grunts out.

“Feels so fucking good Simon. Don't stop..” your words are followed by a whimper, your legs getting tired as you struggle to bounce on his massive size.

Noticing your struggle, he flips you over and mercilessly pounds you into the bed, aiming to finish you both off.

“That’s it, angel. Right there. Fuck you're so perfect.” he intertwines his fingers with yours, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles before resuming his thrusts.

As soon as you start cumming, Simon doubles his efforts, reaching his hand down to rub your swollen clit. He feels you tighten around him, legs trembling as your orgasm washes over you.

“Fuck, look at you.” he slows his movements, pulling out after he fills you up.

“Spread your legs for me sweetheart.” he spreads your legs a little more, positioning his face between them, planting a little kiss on your clit. He smirks as he maintains eye contact, his tongue darting out to tease your clit with a tight touch, circling it slowly.

His movements speed up, eventually adding his index and middle finger, slowly curling it to hit that perfect spot that makes you see stars.

You moan even louder than before, not even worrying about the neighbors. “More…” you manage to utter, your voice barely rising above a whisper as you use your last bit of resilience.

“Greedy little thing ain't ya?” his fingers move faster, deeper, as he maintains the intense abuse on your clit.

You throw your head back in pure ecstasy as you've officially been fucked dumb.

His fingers pump in and out of you ruthlessly, curling up periodically. He can feel you getting ready to cum again. He looks up at your thrown-back head, his mind racing with more ideas. “Turn over.”

He quickly flips you over into your hands and knees, positioning himself behind you. He spreads your legs apart slightly, exposing your cunt. He spits on it, using his thumb to rub the saliva around your entrance.

He lines himself up with your dripping pussy, rubbing the thick head teasingly along your slit.

He pushes forward slightly, stretching you open as he sinks inside. “Fuck you're so tight, baby girl.” he pauses, letting you adjust to his size once more before starting to thrust slowly.

The dog tags jingle as he pounds into you, grabbing your hips tightly and pulling you back onto him with each powerful thrust. “Such a good girl.”

He reaches around and rubs your clit in firm circles, tormenting it further. “I can feel your little cunt gripping me. You gonna cum angel?”

Seeing you nod, he leans over, pressing his muscular chest against your back, his breath hot on your ear. “Then cum for me sweet girl.”

He growls deeply, feeling your pussy convulse around his cock as you cum. As he finishes emptying himself inside you, he collapses onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms and nuzzling into your neck. “You’re so perfect.”

He kisses your neck softly, holding you close as his cum leaks out of your spent cunt. As he whispers comforting words into your ear, you feel yourself dozing off, completely spent from the night’s actions.

Simon smiles softly, adjusting you so you're comfortable against his chest. He pulls the blanket over the both of you, ensuring you're warm. A hand cups the back of your head, rubbing soothingly in your hair, making sure you feel safe.

“Sweet dreams, love. I got you.”

Proud of this one ngl

[alexthetrashyracoon]

“You look like my boyfriend.”

Simon raises a brow at that statement and sits down in the nearby chair. His eyes on you. “Is that so, lovely?”

“Mhm,” you agree with a confident nod and loopy. “No. My boyfriend is prettier than you.”

He isn’t sure if he should take it as a compliment or as an insult, for now Simon decides to not comment on it. “You must be lucky to have such a pretty boyfriend then.” He grins and sips his cheap hospital coffee.

“Oh, I am! He’s pretty and cool and strong. And you should be careful because he’ll be here soon!” You pout, shoving your lower lip forward.

Cute. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gone before he shows up.” Simon reassures you and pats your thigh.

You don’t reply, the remaining anesthesia must still be running its course through your body after the surgery in which the doctor took out your inflamed appendix, snoring softly in the otherwise quiet room. “Good thing your boyfriend is already here, lovely.” Simon chuckles before tugging the thin hospital blanket higher over your chest and keeping watch as your chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. “And he will be here when you wake up again. He will always be there, my lovely.”

[tokusho]

Fluff!

COD boys snuggle up with you!

Just imagine being cuddled by them in bed. You don’t know whos chest your head is laying on or whos arm is draped around your waist, all you know is that you’re in heaven. You can feel sleep pull at you like a sinking anchor below the tides. Before the current pulls you down to a soft slumber you admire the men around you.

The moonlight shimmers through the window allowing you to see their handsome faces. Kyle’s face is warm as the sun as he quietly talks to Johnny. The both of them have an hand on your shoulder rubbing their thumbs softly against your smooth slin. Johns eyes are closed but the calloused hand lightly petting you lets you know hes still awake. Simon is sitting behind you, you can feel his steady breath and heartbeat. His body is warm and you can’t help but melt at the feeling.

Your eyes start to flutter shut as the world goes dark. Just as your mind drifts to slumber you swear you can feel a soft kiss or two against your forehead. You may ask in the morning but all they’ll say is you must’ve had a good dream.

[sunflowersoldat]

~More Than We Bargained For~ Burning Pages AU

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

Tensions are high, reader disobeys orders, Ghost need an outlet.

Warnings: Minors DNI, angst, soft smut, language.

Wordcount: 1595

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Ghost eyeing you from across the plane. You know he’s pissed, good. After the way he’s been acting he’s lucky you only disobeyed one of his orders. Hell you should have told him to fuck off in front of everyone when he pulled rank as you all gathered on the plane. With the good Captain not present on the mission, Ghost was the boss. Normally when you disobeyed an order he would reprimand you and move on, but this time, he made a point to chew your ass in front of the rest of the team. 

You had held your tongue, no matter how badly you wanted to retaliate, to push him, get a different reaction than him raising his voice.

Soap had tried -in vain- to defend you, but Ghost wasn’t having it. He was absolutely fuming. The mission had still been a complete success, despite your blatant disregard for your own safety. After your scolding and the plane being in the air for at least an hour, the team seemed to relax. Everyone except Ghost, he was still pissed, which was unlike him. Usually he would get angry, yell, then be his normal closed-off, grouchy self. Something else seemed to be bothering him, he was more on edge than before, the others hadn’t noticed, but you did. You could see it in the way he holds himself, his shoulders slump slightly, it shows in the lines around his eyes, and even though his face is covered, you can still make out the tense muscles of his jaw beneath.

Breathing deeply, you opt to ignore him, he can be angry with you, hell, you’re still pissed from his behavior a few days ago in the conference room. With the team hovering and the mission looming, you hadn’t brought it up, and neither did he, but the tension was definitely there. You settle in your seat, leaning your head back, letting the plane ride lull you to sleep.

You were jostled awake by another boot lightly kicking yours- “Yurei, we’re back.”- it’s Soap standing in front of you. His eyes are heavy, he must have fallen asleep too. Sitting up you leisurely stretch your tense limbs as you unbuckle yourself and stand. Glancing around the plane, you notice the others have already gathered their belongings and trotted off. Ghost is the only one left, slowly throwing his pack over his shoulder. You forget you’re staring until his eyes meet yours, clearing your throat you abruptly turn to gather your own bag before he can even speak to you. 

The cool night air skitters across your heated cheeks as you exit the plane and head for your apartment, sleep is the only thing on your mind right now, the rest you can figure out later.

By the time you’ve settled in and showered it's past three in the morning, you settle on your bed, taking out your pocket journal, the thoughts in your head empty themselves onto the paper. When they are finished, you fold it into a tiny envelope. Signing it with a name and tucking it into the pages of your journal—

A knock echoes through your dark apartment, groaning as you make your way to the front door. Your apartment is small, little more than a dorm with a tiny kitchenette and a door separating the living area and the bedroom. But it's more space to yourself than a safehouse floor surrounded by the guys or the tiny rooms that are occasionally given in bigger safehouses. You don’t bother with the main room light, instead you reach for a small table lamp bathing the room a soft golden glow.

 You crack the door open, squinting at the harsh light in the hall. And who is standing there? None other than the Lieutenant himself. His dark mask hides his face as usual, but instead of his uniform, a black t-shirt adorns his chest, so tight it looks painted on, along with a pair of gray sweats and a pair of sneakers. A rare sight to see him so dressed down outside the safety of his own room.

As the door cracks, his eyes find yours, raising a brow, you try to sound unbothered, “Something I can do for you Lieutenant?” You cross your arms over your chest, keeping the door mostly closed. 

Toeing the door open he lets himself into your apartment, shutting the door and locking it behind him as he walks you backward. His tone is harsh, voice raised in anger, “Do you have a fucking death wish, Sergeant?!” 

At the moment no, you really just want sleep.

You blink “Lower your voice Ghost, it’s three AM and I don’t need a noise complaint—”

He huffs, “I understand you pushing my buttons and being a pain in my ass, but to blatantly ignore a direct order?! The whole team heard every word, if you do that it lets them think they can too!” he pauses as your legs hit the arm of your couch, the lamplight causing shadows to dance across his face and body, not quite hiding the way his eyes slowly travel up your figure.

You stand tall against him, “Firstly, is this an off the record visit sir? If not this can wait until the morning.  Secondly, it's not like they were new recruits, they were our seasoned teammates. Thirdly, It was a shitty order, sir.” You snap back.

He straightens, you can see his jaw work under his mask, a soft chuckle leaving his lips, “Yurei, what did I tell you about telling yourself lies…” he warns, but his eyes sparkle with mischief.

You shift under his gaze, now painfully aware of the fact you answered the door in nothing more than a baggy t-shirt and a scrap of fabric that you could hardly call shorts. Swallowing thickly you gesture towards yourself, “Are you here as a peer, or my superior?”

His head tilts to the side, stepping closer, the fabric of his sweats brush against your bare legs, goosebumps erupt across your skin, “Would it make a difference, Yurei?”

You meet his gaze defiantly, “As your subordinate, I would like to have something more appropriate on.”

“As someone who cares, Yurei. Your friend.”

Your gaze hardens, heart squeezing in your chest, “Is that what we are Lieutenant? Friends?”

The shadows dance across his face, though they don’t hide the way his eyes darken at your tone, he remains silent.

Scoffing you roll your eyes, “Friends don’t fuck, Lieutenant.” you spit the words, your throat becoming tight as you shove your frustrated tears down.

“Subordinates don’t disobey orders, Sergeant.” He counters.

“Fuck your orders.” You shove towards him, causing him to step back. Your neck craning so you can glare at him, you’re toe-to-toe now, his chest rising and falling faster than before.

“Those orders are in place to keep you safe.” He grounds out, “Disobeying them shows me you don’t care about your life or mine.”

His words stun you momentarily, but you push forward again, finger poking his chest, “Don’t you dare say I don’t care about you!”

“You could have died!”

“So could you, have you ever thought of that—”

You're cut off by his lips sealing over yours, his mask just lifted above his nose, the force causes you to stumble backward. You gasp giving his tongue access to your mouth, slipping against yours. He steals the breath from your lungs. Hands slowly skating up your bare thighs looping around you to pull you closer.

You break apart breathing heavily, your hands tremble as you reach for him, whispering, “Friends don’t fuck remember?”

A smirk lifts his lips, “Subordinates follow orders.”

Your head rests against his chest, “If I’m not a friend, or a subordinate, what am I?”

He lifts your chin lightly, “Your heaven sent,” — he kisses you hard, picking you up as you wrap your legs around his waist— “a severe pain in my ass” — he pulls the shirt from your chest, trailing kisses down your torso, laying you on your bed. “Absolutely more than I bargained for.” 

He hooks his finger in your shorts, pulling them down, along with your underwear, tossing them aside. The soft glow of the lamp through the door surrounds him like an aura, bathing him in golden light. When you see him like this he's a god descending from the heavens to save you from yourself. He leans forward, face inches from your core. His hands grip your thighs tightly, thumbs softly tracing circles across your skin.

Lips skating across your inner thigh, slowly working towards your center, you squirm under his hold, a soft whimper leaving your lips. His eyes meet yours before he dives between your legs, tongue licking a stripe through your folds. You arch off the bed, eyes fluttering shut, his arm comes to rest across your stomach, holding you in place as he feasts on you like a man starved. Tongue darting into you, then moving to circle your clit before he sucks on the bundle of nerves softly. The band in your stomach tightening, you are already so close.

You’re a writhing mess beneath him by the time the band snaps and your release crashes through you. He places a trail of kisses up your abdomen and torso. When the shockwaves subside you pull him in for another bruising kiss, discarding his mask so you can fully see him.

His eyes lock with yours, “Someone I cannot live without…” he breathes.

@daiseychaindisaster @tianamontag @texan-tazzy @silently-killing-you @ojouhama