#simon riley x fem!reader

[nova-amor]

tags. 18+ mdni, female reader. p-in-v missionary, creampie.

“don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like that. you’re going to make me cum quick.”

the gooey muscles of your walls clenched around simon’s cock, strangling the flow of blood coursing through its prominent veins. a deep growl rumbled through his chests, brown eyes fluttering shut to avoid your heated gaze. “you’re going to be the death of me.” he hissed through gritted teeth as he turned his head away, nostrils flaring in annoyance as your walls contracted around him.

your cunt drew him in further, his hairy pelvis nuzzled against your heat. thoroughly soaked with your sticky arousal. your nails scratched at the back of his shoulders, digging into the curved flesh of his spine. his hips rocked into you nice and slow, drawing out the moment for as long as humanly possible.

“look at me, simon,” you whispered his name, one of your hands grazing over the tops of his shoulder, flowing over the pale scars raised along his skin. your hand would cup the curve of his cheek, bringing him in closer, his warm breath fanning over your lips. “cum in me, si. i want you to look me in the eyes while you cum inside of me. please.” you ordered him, legs hiking further up his hips. the new angle allowed for him reach deeper into you, drawing out pretty moans from your lips as the coarse hair of his pubes grazed against your clit.

with your legs crossed by the ankles over his back, you urged him to fuck you faster. to fuck you harder, deeper. you wanted more of him, desired every inch of what he had to offer. his tightened balls slapped against your ass, his head growing light and vision going hazy as he locked eyes with you. he wouldn’t be able to last like this for much longer. not when you were staring at him with such pretty eyes, your bruised lips parted in a whine as his cock nudged against your gspot.

without so much as another stroke, simon spilled into you, cum staining every pink surface within you white. “that’s it,” you cooed into his ear, caressing the sides of his face as he collapsed on top of you, his body shaking ever so slightly with aftershock. “my pretty boy’s s’ good to me. filling me up s’ well.” you praised as his lips latched onto your pebbled nipple, his soft tongue rolling over the bead with languidly strokes.

[gloomwitchwrites]

What Are We (1 of 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, suggestive themes, possessive!Simon, touching (lots of it), kissing, romantic tension

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Simon wants an answer. And if you're going to reject him, you better look him in the eye when you say that you don't want him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // what are we masterlist

You’re not looking in front of you. You’re not even glancing at your feet.

Your gaze is attached to the precarious stack of files in your hands, too focused on keeping them balanced and together to notice anything or anyone else around you.

Which is why you don’t see Simon until it’s too late.

His hand on your upper arm is a vice, and there is no escape from him. With a quick jerk, you’re rudely pulled in the opposite direction, and promptly shoved into a coat closet of an office. Some of the papers in your arms go flying, and you desperately reach for them, irritation burning in the back of your throat.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you snap, after snagging the last wayward piece of paper.

Simon stands quiet in front of the closed door, arms crossed over his chest. Even now, when you’re annoyed with him, you can’t help but to rake your gaze over his muscled form, taking in every morsal. It’s a crime not to do so.

“What’s wrong with me?” mocks Simon slowly. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Your eyebrows immediately rise toward your hairline in surprise. Then, just as quickly, your mind catches up to the situation. You know exactly what Simon is up to. He’s done this before, cornered you in a such a way as this as a means to break you, to make you bend until you completely break for him.

“No,” you state, shaking your head. “We’re not doing this. I know what you’re up to, Simon.” You press the stack of papers against your chest, crossing your arms over them protectively, one finger pointed in his direction in accusation.

Simon takes one unhurried step away from the door, and that singular move is entirely too close for comfort. “You don’t have the right to pull me aside whenever you want,” you continue. “To be domineering and push—” Simon takes another step and you nearly drop the stack of papers.

“Back off,” you bite, not entirely believing your own strength in the delivery.

“I deserve an answer.” Simon’s voice is not exactly a growl, but his timbre roots you to the spot.

“About what?” you stammer, already confused and unsure of where Simon is taking this.

“About what we are.”

“What?” Your voice breaks on the end, going a bit high.

“We’ve been on each other the last few months. Or did you forget?”

No. You haven’t. How could you? Just yesterday, you were a submissive puddle beneath him, allowing him everything.

Simon arches a single eyebrow and you immediately comply without thought. “Why would you ask me that?”

Your question is a cop-out. You know this. Simon knows it.

When Simon closes in, you do not move or reprimand him for doing so. He takes another step, this time into your space, and you are blocked from leaving this cramped enclosure.

“Did you think I’d forget, love?” croons Simon, and the sweetness of it is enough to flame the slumbering heat within you into a small fire. “That I didn’t hear you.” Simon leans in. “That I missed what you murmured while I was buried deep inside you?”

You swallow, salvia sticking in your throat as you clearly recall the sighed words of pleasure that dripped almost inaudibly from your lips.

I love you.

It was a mistake. A slip up.

Your voice is strained. Defeated. You’re not escaping from this. There is nowhere for you to run. “What do you want?”

“I want you to admit it.”

You glance away from Simon, hugging the papers close to your chest. “You’re mistaken.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his chest heave and his shoulders straighten. You turn toward the nearby desk, wanting to unburden the load in your arms. The moment the papers hit the desk, Simon grabs the lower half of your face, forcing your gaze back to him.

“Simon!”

He pins you against the desk, hands braced on the edge, his balaclava covered face inches away from yours.

“If you’re going to lie to me. If you’re going to reject me. You better look me in the eye when you do it.” You stare him down. Unmoving. “Don’t deny yourself,” he murmurs, one hand lightly squeezing your upper thigh.

Simon’s mouth, though covered by the balaclava, is dangerously close to yours. You feel his warm breath against your face as it filters through the fabric. It’s light, almost imperceptible. But it is there, and it makes you wanton, to close the distance.

“Why do you care so much?” you reply softly. “I thought you didn’t want more.”

Simon closes the distance even more, resting his forehead against your own. “Do you want me to recount all the ways that isn’t true?”

“Don’t be cruel.”

Simon presses his hips against you, showing you just how cruel he can be. “Then don’t play games.” From your face, Simon relocates his hand to the back of your neck. “Give me an answer. What are we?”

What are we?

As if you know. As if you’ve given the idea any life. But you have, haven’t you? You’ve imagined more than just simple meetings. And it isn’t like you and Simon get what you need out of your system and move on. There is always after. There is always before. There is always the comfort and the gentleness between all the rough, sharp edges.

What are we?

You give him the answer he’s seeking because maybe—just maybe—it’s what he desires too.

“I’m yours,” you breathe, and Simon’s sigh of relief is like a blooming flower. “I’m yours.”

“You’re mine,” repeats Simon, his mouth coming down on yours through the balaclava.

You don’t even care. This closeness is a balm to your soul. The teether you’re seeking.

Simon’s hands drop to your hips, lift you from the ground, and place you firmly on the edge of the desk. He slides between your legs, and your arms drape around his neck in anticipation of what comes next.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @bbyfimmie @cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06 @therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21

[mockerycrow]

ghost x masc!fem!reader where you’ve sat here for a while thinking that you’d likely never enter another romantic relationship after your last one; too masculine for men, but you feel entirely disconnected with any womanhood, so you don’t bond with women, either.

and then there’s simon.. dear ol’ simon who finds himself staring when he meets you for the first time—simon, who has to clear his throat to get his train of thought back together, to not stare at the buff woman in front of him and that he is not a dog.

he is. he’s a dog, but only for you.

[themotherofhorses]

okie but imagine love at first sight with simon riley

and no, i mean him !!

the very moment you take that one step into the room — and your eyes meet his baby blue ones — he is done for. dead gone. no hope whatsoever.

why? 'cause there stands his future wife.

propped up against the counter, you are far too engrossed in captain price’s pre-mission lecture to pay any attention to simon’s heavy gaze raking over your entire body. the lieutenant swallows up every fine detail your beauty has to offer — from the slope of your nose to those tiny beauty marks scattered across your soft skin.

(they’re almost like a nighttime constellation of stars, created solely for him to discover.)

he admires the pretty nail polish coating all ten fingernails, and the three rings you're wearing. all gold. one's sitting on your right pinky, the second on your index, and the third's on your right middle finger.

do you like tea, pretty girl? he wonders, watching as you shake hands with his captain.

it is perfectly fine if you don't. but if you do, simon hopes your main choice is earl grey. there is an unopened box sitting back in his flat — it's yours! all you need to do is let him know. (he'll make you tea every goddamn morning if that helps you wake up.)

all the countless thoughts and feelings and questions rummaging through his head. simon wants to learn everything about you — your interests and hobbies, likes and dislikes, dreams and desires.

did you receive that stunning smile from your mother? or are you the spitting image of your father? are you a cat or dog person? if his nightmares fuck up his sleeping, would you hold him close?

it's quite bizarre, actually.

simon's military personnel file registers his birth year as 1981 — so fucking long ago. and yet, it was not until five minutes ago that he ever felt this alive.

[honestlyhiswife]

Protective!Ghost who would monitor your flight every 5 minutes, but what happens when something goes wrong?

You don't even know if your flight is delayed until he texts you. You don't even have to tell him you've arrived, he's already there waiting for you.

Once in the middle of 5 hour flight, he notices that your flight has a red square next to it. Those 4 numbers on the red box leaves him tightening up in tension, his shoulders rising and his brain immediately thinking of the worse case scenario.

Squawk 7700.

Unconciously, his body rushes him to find the task force. Shoving his phone in their faces, they all find themselves reacting the same way. See, Squawk 7700 indicates that the plane you're currently on has an emergency

He knows what could happen, they all know, they're SAS for fucks sake. However, the vagueness lying beneath those 4 numbers tears him apart slowly? What kind of emergency? Was it engine failure? Maybe pressurization problems? What if the wing flaps of the airplane weren't working? All the possibilities ran through his mind.

Pacing throughout the common room didn’t help, it just made his thoughts run faster. For the next 2.5 hours, he was stressed. Stress eating. Stress walking. Fidgeting. He was restless and ended up rambling to whichever friend was closest to him, coincidentally Price. Despite being his higher up, he considered Price one of his closest comrades.

Ghost rambled on and on about you to Price, how worried he was and what he would do.

“God- Captain I swear if she were here I would take get her favourite takeout. I should’ve watched that stupid cheesy romcom with her. What if I can’t now? Captain-“

Luckily, Price slapped sense into him.

“Son, First of all, it’s Price. How many times have I told you that? Second, she will come back safely. Her plane will land safely, you will see her in this room. Keep stressing yourself out and she’ll be mad at me for not keeping you calm. Breathe, son.”

That activated the rational part of Ghost’s brain. The next 2 hours were hell. Nonetheless, they passed. Price didn’t allow Ghost to wait for you this time, he made Ghost stay with him.

You landed. All limbs attached.

The moment he saw you, he was all over you. Cupping your cheeks and looking at your eyes. Hands then by your waist and pulling you into a hug while slowly swaying you left to right. Practically melting into your touch while you try to reassure him.

“Simon- relax, I’m not going anywhere love”

“Never doubted it for a second darling”

———

a/n: me when I rushed this because i just wanted to finish it L😲L. anyways i needed to let this out for the funsies! if it’s wrong don’t blame me. blame whatever the hell possessed me to write this 😗✌️

[lethalchiralium]

Dial Tone | Happiness Series

a/n: here we go.

warnings: kidnapping, babies, mentions of pregnancy and sickness, mentions of violence. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+.

summary: It’s the afternoon, rain thundered against your home so you couldn’t hear the footsteps that backed you into a corner.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

“Repeat after me. Stay within sight.”

“Stay in sight!”

“Have fun.”

“Have fun!”

“Don’t play with boys.”

“That’s not fair!”

Simon smiled under his face mask at his four year old, her curly hair unruly after she pulled off the sock cap she demanded to wear earlier. “I’m kiddin’, love. But stay in sight of Mum or I.” He pulled her little hand, forcing her to come close before he pressed his cheek to her forehead. She squirmed and he let go, a mumbled, “Okay.” was the best he was gonna get from her.

Winnie ripped her light coat off, tossing it into her father’s lap before she sprinted away to play on the playground with the other kids her age. Simon watched her intently, detail in his memory how she smiled at every kid who passed her by. She’d wave, begin to speak, and play with whatever kid was in the closest vicinity. She certainly didn’t learn social expression from him.

He sat back on the bench, his spine prickled with displeasure as he tried to relax. It seemed to be reflex for him to be on edge - straightened back, clenched fists, jaw so tight it could be wired shut. It was windy, not too many parents weren’t out and about to let their children play on a Tuesday afternoon; school was in session, plus this park was off the beaten path. Hidden and safe, just how he preferred. There were about four kids playing with Winnie, only two sets of parents.

Your hand then settled on his thigh, warmth pooled in his belly as he looked down at your perfect hand. A bracelet gently hung from your wrist, your preferred metal with four colored gems. It was your latest gift from your husband, it meant so much to you - having the four birthstones of your family on it. He was proud of how you smiled when he gave it to you, upset that he made you cry - even if it was tears of joy. He settled his cold hand over yours, you laughed a little.

“Your hand’s freezing, Si.” Your shoulder pressed against his, his nose scrunched a little as you squeezed his thigh.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, moving to pressed a clothed kiss to your hair. “Didn’t think it’d be this cold. Shoulda worn gloves.” There was a small sneeze, Simon looked down at your lap to see Mellie, bundled up and warm as she watched her sister play. With his free hand, he poked her button nose - she giggled before she leaned back, trying to get a glimpse of him.

You squeezed his thigh again, watching your oldest like a hawk as you gently spoke, “I’ll hate you forever if you miss Winnie’s birthday party.”

Simon smirked. “I won’t.” He wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Or your birthday party.”

He rolled his eyes, his good mood began to sour but he took in a breath, flushing it from his system. He always knew you mean well, even when you drop things like this, knowing he doesn’t want a party since he swore them off at nine. So, he changed the topic. “Why haven’t we had one for yours?”

“I’ve had plenty of them, Simon. You haven’t let me throw you one. And the ones you told me about, they weren’t good.” You rubbed his arm then looked up to him. With your best puppy eyes, you asked, “Please let me throw you one so I can show you how fun a birthday can be.”

“…Fine.”

“Thank you.” You placed a kiss right where his lips were - no matter the mask, you always knew where to kiss his lips. It’s like they were magnetized to fit his perfectly. “You know, there was this post I read the other day, talking about kindness and gentleness doesn’t need to be so flowery and gentle like the movies.” Your hand turned to hold his, linking your fingers together as you turned back to watch your daughter on the playground. Simon couldn’t tell keep his eyes off of you, hanging on every word you said. “And I thought about you.” There was a moment where Simon felt warmth flush his cheeks, his chest, his hand that held yours. “I think about my 21st birthday and how you made me cry when you walked in that restaurant, you were nervous and your tie a bit crooked - that was kindness.”

“That was love.” He corrected, his voice gentle and low. “I loved you since that day. You were so happy to see me.”

“I was. I always will be.” You squeezed his hand, the one you were never scared to hold. “I think about how you bring me things you thought I would like, and I always do. It’s like you’re in my head, like you know everything about me.”

Simon smiled under his face mask. Not the small smile he would usually show you, the cheek straining smile that would make your face ache after a while. “I always want to know everything about you.”

You sniffled a little, a small laugh left your lips. What he couldn’t see were the warm tears that threaded down your cheeks. “I didn’t spend too much time on the post because I thought about how you were cold to me when we first met. And how you have changed so much since then, in such little time. That…” You sniffled again, leaning your head to rest against his shoulder once more. “That I loved you enough for you to recognize that you’re safe with me.”

He squeezed your hand, pressing his cheek to your hair.

“Just like how you’ll always be safe with me.”

He let go of your hand, moving to settle it on Mellie’s chest - her little gloved hands instantly grabbed his fingers, moving to chew on one of them. He didn’t mind. Your hand squeezed his thigh again.

“Ten more minutes, then I want to go home.”

He nodded a little, cheek still pressed to your hair. “Whatever you want, my love.”

•••

You barely got any sleep. With a crying Mellie who wouldn’t settle down and a clingy Winnie, you were amazed you had gotten a wink of sleep when you woke up at 7am to a cry of discomfort from your baby.

You checked the time, noticing that you had a couple of notifications but tossing your phone back on your nightstand before pulling Mellie into your arms. Her little fingers scratched at your sleep shirt, which was one of Simon’s old shirts, and her little face was buried in your neck. Her forehead felt so much warmer than last night, you were almost instantly in the bathroom - with one hand, you wet a washcloth with cold water. A gentle movement of Mellie’s head and the wince of a cold washcloth on your neck gave you chills. You pulled it away from her nose and mouth, holding it to the top of her head to try and give her relief and cool down her temperature.

“Mama?”

You looked up to see Winnie sitting up on your bed, her hand rubbing her eye as she started to wake up.

“Yes, baby?” You asked, Mellie still crying on your chest.

“Wanna sleep more.” She toppled backwards, dragging your pillow over herself. If you weren’t so worried and tired, you would’ve cackled, you did give her a small laugh. You looked back down at your baby, whose little face was scrunched up as she cried. You were swift as you made your way out of your room and downstairs, hating that you were most likely waking everyone in the house-

“Morning.”

Laswell was already sitting at the kitchen table, coffee on a coaster as Roach sat beside her, eagerly scarfing down a bowl of Cheerios. You were startled a little, not used to more than just Simon in your home. You made your way to the medicine cabinet. “Sorry if she woke you guys up, she-“

Laswell interrupted you. “She’s fine. Don’t worry about her, she’s still a baby.”

That made your heart swell a bit, you whispered a gentle, “Thank you.” You grabbed her medicine, preparing her syringe of bitter liquid while you heard the front door open and close. Heavy boots that sounded nothing like your husband’s entered the kitchen, you didn’t even glance to know that it was König. He was taller and most likely heavier than Simon, so it made sense he would also be louder. You were sure he was making noise to ease your mind.

“Guten Morgen.” He spoke, Laswell mumbled something into her coffee as you sat the baby on the counter in front of you. She sat up, face still stained with tears and her wails turned into whines as you took her little hand - you administered the medicine, Mellie gave a sour look and her eyes swelled with tears again. Not long after, her whines turned into wails again. There was no winning.

You were quick when you grabbed a small snack for yourself, carrying your infant back upstairs. The only plan you had was to keep a cold cloth against her head and debate whether or not taking her into A&E was a good idea. She’s terrified of new people, she’s screaming and crying non-stop, you weren’t sure if the added stress of new people would do her any good. But at least she had some prospect of getting some relief from this.

You swiftly gathered a cold wash cloth, Mellie grabbing your hair and t-shirt in distress as you did, wailing. You didn’t react to the hair pulling, you squeezed the water out from the cloth into the sink before letting the small cloth rest on top of her head. The baby squirmed, squealed, and whined - but the wails instantly ceased. Her tear stained face looked up at you before she slammed it into your collarbone, you winced in pain. “There we go, girlie. That’s gotta feel good.”

Winnie was still passed out in the middle of your bed, snoring away. You brought your baby back towards the bed, sitting down on it so you could keep an eye on both of your girls. Whines escaped Mellie for a few more moments before she finally calmed down, your hand cradling her head and arm holding her to your chest. You kissed her head then leaned back onto your pillows, trying to fight the exhaustion in your body but it was too much. Your eyes fluttered closed with your five year old beside you and your almost one year old finally napping on your chest. With every breath, you felt more comfortable - even with how much your head and lungs hurt, you would always feel comfortable when your girls slept beside you.

•••

“Paying attention, LT?” Gaz whispered from beside your husband. Ghost threw him a dirty look in a casual side eye, going back to marking up his map as Price continued to present on the mission. Ghost’s phone was in his hand, he was waiting for a call or text from you, like you usually do. It’s not abnormal for you to forget, Mellie can get clingy and he knows first hand how demanding Winnie can get.

“More than you are, Sergeant.” He answered, pencil dragging across a section of London suburbs where the target was likely to be hiding. Brent and Tower Hamlets. He vividly remembered finding his father on the streets in Tower Hamlets, fucked on some drug but still conscious to recognize that his thirteen year old son shouldn’t be in London. Simon still has that scar on his forehead from how hard his father hit him that night. The pencil skritch-ed around in a circle, those two suburbs seemed the right area the target would hide in. Easily to slip in and out of alleyways, a lot of drug activities and violent crime. When you’re an outcasted former Russian Mob drug mule, you can’t exactly sip the finest champagne on a balcony in The Ritz.

There was something bugging him in his head. Something he was missing. He had gone through his Ghost rituals in the car on the way to base, then on the plane to the small Piccadilly Circus safe house. Simon was not even a thought in his mind, nothing about Simon’s life was supposed to be distracting him - yet, all he could think about throughout this meeting was you.

How scared you must have been, giving birth to Mellie alone all those months ago. How hurt you were when you had lost your son. How happy you were that Simon finally got to know that you were pregnant again. How you were graceful in knowing he was leaving again. How he could recognize the pain in your eye when he told you, how his heart felt like it was being repeatedly stabbed when he watched you fight back tears.

Simon loved you. Ghost was not meant to love. He was meant to be a soulless monster, but after the nine months he spent at home with you and his children, the lines between Ghost and Simon Riley seem to bleed together. Where the mask couldn’t cover seemed to stay the devoted husband and father, while underneath the fabric balaclava, Ghost was ready to find his prey like the hunter he was.

“Dismissed.” Price’s voice broke Ghost from his thoughts, he instantly closed his folder of information and stood. He shuffled out of the briefing room, his hand crept to his phone in his pocket.

One phone call wouldn’t hurt.

•••

You felt nauseous when you woke up, but it passed easily after you sat in your dry bathtub, cheek to the wall of it. Maybe Mellie’s cold was passing, you wouldn’t be able to function if morning sickness caught you this time. You narrowly escaped it with Mellie and with your miscarried son, so you were genuinely praying you wouldn’t be throwing up every chance your body had for the next three months. Your baby monitor sat in your hand, Mellie was placed in her crib around 9am when she finally cried herself to sleep.

Laswell and Roach had taken Winnie to the park after lunch, which Laswell was gracious enough to make. It seemed the three operators were comfortable in your home, it made the stress of it all seem to ease. König stayed behind, stating that he was here to help with Mellie - which you thanked him but told him it wasn’t necessary. He had a job to do, which was to protect your family until the whole… whatever was blowing over. You weren’t sure if it was necessary that they were there, but after coming face to face with your supposedly non-existent father-in-law, the added security was more than welcome.

You only had one more day until the doctor’s appointment, you had given yourself by mid-afternoon to decide to take your daughter to A&E to get checked out sooner. If she got worse, you’d pack up your self, your baby, and your security detail and go. But now, you were cleaning up Winnie’s room. Making her bed, putting away what little toys she had gotten out.

It seemed like last week that you were putting a ten month old Winnie down for a nap, nestled in her Winnie the Pooh themed nursery. Now her soft yellow walls were a soft green, a color Winnie begged for to her father. He bent with little resistance, now she gets to hang her drawings of flowers and dinosaurs on her green walls. It wouldn’t be long before Simon would paint Mellie’s room whatever color she wanted, then the last upstairs room from its nursery yellow to your last baby’s favorite color. Your hands gripped Winnie’s duck patterned comforter, tucking it up to her pink pillow. You patted the soft object, just reminiscing on how much your life had changed in such little time.

There was barely any time for you to rest in your daughter’s room before you heard your baby begin to cry. You rose to your feet, moving out of Winnie’s room and crossing directly into Mellie’s nursery - where a cool breeze brushed through the room. Your eyebrows furrowed.

The window was open.

Mellie had stood up in her crib, hands gripped onto the side and screaming, face full of little tears. You were over to her in only three strides, pulling her up into your arms. She was still so warm, you were very worried now - you bounced your baby on your hip for just moment before you made a move towards the changing table. “Oh baby, baby, Mama’s gonna help.”

You tried to lay her on the table but she rolled towards you, still screaming and crying like someone was burning her ears off. “I know, honey, give Mama just a second-“

Something in your head clicked. Your hands instantly picked up your daughter, running your hand over her hair to try and smooth her as panic settled into the center of your chest. You needed to hold her, something in your body demanded you keep your hold on your daughter.

The window was open. When it wasn’t before. You did not open it, you would have heard her door opening on the baby monitor if König had come up to open a window. You never even thought it could be opened, you never tried. You took a step back, going to turn towards the door of the nursery. If you get downstairs quick enough, you may be able to warn König to tell Laswell and Roach not to come back. To keep Winnie away.

There was a loud thud from downstairs, your heartbeat in your throat as you heard it again and again and again. The air around you turned cold, goose flesh invaded your skin as you held your breath, waiting for König to come upstairs and tell you it was a false alarm. Mellie’s crying was loud in your ear, but the voice that came from downstairs was deafening.

“Y/N! RUN!”

You took one look towards the door and solid metal was pressed against the back of your head. Your body went still, your daughter screaming in pain right next to your ear. You heard a gunshot muffled by the walls of your home, your eyes squeezed shut as you cradled your daughter closer. With your heartbeat in your throat, you heard a low growl,

“Don’t move.”

••••

Simon pulled the phone away from his ear, watching the time begin to tick as your voicemail began to play.

“Hey love, I know you probably napping with the baby but jus’ wanted to check on ‘er. And you. Love you, see you soon.”

He settled the phone down on the table of the mess hall, a late lunch was what he was used to with planning extensive missions. Price gave him a curious look from across the table. “You usually don’t call her.”

“I know.” He answered, metal fork pushing around mushy peas on the tray. Something was scraping away in his chest, he couldn’t place the feeling.

“The girls will be fine.” Price assured Simon, taking a bite out of his stew. “There’s two operators and Laswell there. If anything were to happen, your girls would be safe.”

Simon glared at Price. “Still don’t appreciate being called in from my paternity leave.” The fork pierced a piece of cut up potato, eyes never leaving Price’s face.

“You didn’t have to agree.”

“If I didn’t, I’d get a disciplinary.” Simon took a bite of the stale potato, it was bland and soggy. “Can’t exactly lose my only income for my family.”

The table jostled as Soap ripped a chair out from beside Ghost, he didn’t even react as Soap dropped into his seat and his tray clattered onto the table. He began to chatter with Price, a happy smile on his lips and he ripped apart his bread roll to place on half on Simon’s tray. Simon took his phone back into his hand, opening it to a picture of his daughters. He gazed at it, tracing the shadow on your hand as it held up Mellie - your engagement and wedding rings glittered in the sunlight. He could remember that small smile on your face from that picture.

There’s no need to worry. They’ll be fine.

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Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[pearlofthesirens]

Everything's gonna be okay- Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

first time writing for a fandom omg might as well start writing for cod more. thank you to @xxshadowbabexx for this writing competition, i'm so happy to participate <3 summary: After Simon found himself waking up after another nightmare, his significant other reminds him that he isn't alone in this world pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader warnings: she/her pronouns used, nightmares, Simon's past, toxic relationship with father mentioned, slight cursing now playing: Until I Found You by Stephen Sanchez word count: 1193 words(one thousand one hundred and ninety three words)

"I wish you would've told me," "Told you what? That I get nightmares which eat me alive? That I've always been this fucked up?" "..that's not what I meant, Si." Hearing the familiar nickname slip off her tongue despite how he yelled at her snapped him out of the shaken state he was in. He turned to look at the doorknob, contemplating on whether to twist it open or not. It had been more than half an hour that he locked himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face and making excuses to not come out. He didn't want to see her, not when she had witnessed him scream as he woke up from his nightly terrors and swat her hand away with such force. All she wanted was to comfort him, her gentle rubs on his face was all he needed at that moment. Then why did he refuse to open the door and face her?

"I want to help, Si. I want to be there for you like you have been for me all this time." He looked at himself in the mirror, the face he dreaded to see every day. He wore the mask for a reason and as much as Johnny pestered him for the real reasons, it had always been more than just hiding his face for safety. His dusty blonde strands and brown irises remind him of a bastard he shouldn't be thinking of. The bastard he took care of when he just had enough, the bastard who tyrannized not only him, but his dear mother and brother. His lover on the other side of the door seemed to be in love with all of him, the scars, wounds, bruises, even the face he thought he would despise all his life.

"You're more than your father's son. You're Simon, my Simon.." Simon thought of his mother often, Tommy and Beth too. Simon also thought of having a little critter like Joseph crawling around the house, someone whom he can call his. Someone he can raise with the love of his life. Someone to let him prove that he indeed did not turn out to be the person he had sworn to loathe for an eternity. Simon wished to have a family he would love and cherish. But he did not trust himself.

"Do not listen to the voices in your head, Simon. They're lying to you. You're worth it, you're worth the troubles. I'm here to help and I'm here to stay. Please..please let me in. Please let me help you, Si." Hearing her voice break was the last straw and he couldn't torture himself with solitude anymore. He opened the door very slowly, surprisingly avoiding the creaking of the hinges which much needed some greasing. He looked down to find her little face peering into him, her curious eyes always searching for something. Under her scrutinizing gaze, Simon felt the tiniest droplet of water roll down from his forehead to his lashes, down to his chin. Her hand took his, squeezing his fingers softly before she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He let go of every insecurity and every doubt he had about himself, snaking his arms around her waist.

Dipping his head down and into her neck, he took the longest breath in and inhaled her all so familiar scent. Simon thought she never needed perfume, her body odor was so enticing and comforting to him that he'd rather not fill his nostrils with anything artificial. His arms tightened and he let out the softest sniffle, burying his face even further into her neck. He felt two small hands rubbing his back, running over the muscles he spent hours in the gym to build.

Before meeting her, Simon thought that crying in front of his partner was the stupidest thing possible. How would it look if a 6'4 military man was breaking down in tears in the arms of his little love? He was supposed to be a man, he was supposed to be the one providing her comfort and not the other way. But at that moment of vulnerability, his ego had been overtaken by the need to feel her close. She was the only one who would see through Ghost and not once judge him. "This..I'm so sorry, lovie..I-I can't make it stop." "I know, darling. I know. But I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Si." Simon never once understood how she broke through the tough walls he had built, how she took his ice cold heart and warmed it up at the cost of her patience. She had always been so gentle with him, even when he felt frustrated and yelled profanities at her, not realizing that she was not one of the people who would disregard how he felt. She taught him how to apologize with words, she always reassured him that he could be gentle despite not once finding peace in his tragic life. And yes, he was gentle with her. He did apologize with words every single time he ended up saying something he didn't mean.

He had a ritual to calm her down when she was upset, the reason being him or not. He would sit her down on his lap, wipe her tears and place tender kisses on her forehead. He did everything in his power to not see his angel cry, specially not because of him. So why was it weird to him when she did the same? Why did it not feel right when it was her turn to show how much he deserved to be held and comforted too? "I'll tell you this again and again and again. You're worth it, Si. You're worth the stupid arguments we get into sometimes, you're worth the silent treatment, you're worth all the wrong things you've once said to me. You wanna know why?" He only nodded his head, not bringing his face out of her neck. "Because I see the change in you. I see you trying, I see you improving. You've gotten so much better at expressing yourself, you apologize with words, you think twice before saying anything to me. I know there had been moments you've slipped up, but that does not mean that you don't deserve love." And suddenly, everything she said made sense to Simon. He had improved, he tried his best to be better, to be gentler, to be kinder. To her and to himself. So what if he had said something he shouldn't have? He knew how to recognize his mistakes and appropriately apologize for it, he knew how to make up for his behavior. He knew how to say sorry without bullshitting, he knew how to admit that he had done something wrong and he knew how to fix it. And she had been by his side all the time, refusing to be anything but kind, loving and understanding. How could he not love her? "I swear, lovie..I ain't leaving you till the day I die. I promise" "I love you too, Si. Wanna get back to bed?" "Yeah."

proofread ✓ pearly venus, 00:44 240227

[aqua-reeus]

model for me

⚠️NSFW 18+ mdni!! pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader cw: smut, teasing, oral sex, little bit of praise, little bit of biting hehe

a/n: apologies this is so damn long, but I’m a descriptive writer I have to write every moment and get it out my head lol.

Simon loves it when you model your new outfits for him

You stood with your back to the living room door after coming in from shopping. Simon wasn’t home yet, so you took this chance to try on some clothes you bought. Excitement coursed through your veins as you pulled out a stunning red dress from one of the bags, feeling its smooth fabric against your skin. You eagerly slipped it on, up from your thighs and up through your arms. With an effort, you managed to get the zip up halfway and pause, run your hands down your form, sighing as you gazed at yourself in the mirror.

The fabric hugged your curves so nicely and you wondered what Simon would think if he saw you wearing this. But those thoughts quickly dissipated as you heard the front door opening and heavy footsteps making its way to the living room, urging you to start fiddling with the zip again but it wouldn’t budge.

Simon leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched you struggle with the dress. His eyes slowly followed the contours of your body, from top to bottom, a mix of admiration and amusement in his gaze. A small smirk creeped onto his lips as he watched you wrestle with the fabric.

You turned to look at him, then back at the mirror, watching his reflection. “Hey you, how was work?”

Simon kept on smiling, watching you struggle and enjoying every minute of it.

“You need help, love?” he asked, his voice soft and playful. “Or do I get to watch you struggle for a few more seconds?”

You sighed and dropped your hands by your side. “Just zip it up for me.” You scoffed at him, turning away in embarrassment.

He moved off the doorway and chuckled as he walked slowly over to you, his eyes hungrily tracing the lines of your body. The scent of mixed sweat and tobacco filled your lungs as he got closer. You always hated that he smoked. Always, cursing him to put the killer sticks down. But right now, the scent was intoxicating, stirring something deep within you.

He came up behind you, strong chest pressing against your back, and you could feel the warmth he radiated. His scent now hit the bottom of your stomach. His lips lingered deliciously close to your neck, and he breathed out slowly. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, sending electric shivers down your spine. Damn, that man knew how to drive you wild. Slowly, deliberately, he started to undo the zipper, but instead of zipping it up like you asked, he pulled it down.

Your breath caught in your throat and realisation flooded your senses. You know the game he’s playing. He finished with the zipper and walked away, leaving you standing there, craving more of his touch as he casually settled on the sofa.

You removed the remainder of the dress and picked out another outfit to try on. And his eyes still lingered on you.

“Are you just going to sit there and watch?” You asked, a hint of seduction in your voice. But he didn’t answer, his silence only adding to the tension. With a playful tilt of your head, you modelled the new outfit in front of him, waiting for his response. “What do you think?”

“Mm, I think it looks perfect on you,” Simon said, his voice laced with a hint of desire. He placed one of his arms on the back of the couch relaxing back and subtly shifting forwards, parting his legs slightly. The air around you seemed to heat up with intensity and you squinted your eyes at him. You could see the lust and anticipation in his eyes but weren’t ready to jump on him just yet. No. Even though your body wanted to, you decided to tease him little longer.

You removed the outfit from your body and leaned into one of the bags and pulling out another outfit to try on, and another and another and finally, a delicate lace set. The intricate design and sheer fabric made your heart race, knowing the effect it would have on Simon. His eyes locked onto the lace set, following the intricate patterns and alluring designs. His eyes slowly fell back onto you, and from where you were standing, you swore you could see the minute his pupils dilated and turned dark.

You held up the lace set, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. You could feel the air thicken. “What do you think of this?” you asked.

“I think,” he cleared his throat. “I think you need to stop teasing me and put it on.”

You chuckled and turned back to the mirror, removing your old underwear and slowly putting on the new set. In the reflection of the mirror, you caught a glimpse of Simon’s intense gaze. His brown eyes devouring the sight of you donning the lace. You watched as his chest rose and fell quickly and you knew that the game of seduction had reached its peak. You fastened the delicate hooks and turned to look at him.

“Is this what you had in mind?” You asked, voice dripping with confidence and seduction.

Simon’s breath hitched in his throat and his eyes burned with a raw hunger that mirrored your own. “Come here.” His response was a command veiled in desire as he gestured you over, his hand patting softly on his lap. The invitation was clear and with a seductive smile on your lips, you sauntered over to him. Without hesitation, you straddled his lap, feeling his arms instinctively wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. The undeniable hardness beneath his jeans brushed against your inner thigh, sending an electric jolt through your body and sent a pool of wetness flowing out of you, soaking your new underwear. You could feel his pulse through his chest and his breathing became more rapid.

You barely had time to wrap your arms around his neck before his lips were crashing into yours. You met his kiss with equal passion, soft and slow. He took his hand and wrapped it around the back of your head pulling you even closer as he kissed you deeper, his fingers brushing through your hair and his rough tongue caressing your lips. A delicious ache built in your core as you slowly started to grind against his clothed hardness. Simon groaned as he felt your hips pushing into him, he pulled away from the kiss.

“I love you in this.” He whispered, his fingers brushed against your bare skin as he reached out to touch one of your nipples, teasing it gently through the material of your bra before cupping your breast in his hand. You let out a small moan.

He smirked, the corner of his lips turning up as he teased your nipple with his fingertips once more. A surge of pleasure surged through your body, making you hiss a breath in between your teeth. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you threw your head back, your hips instinctively grinding against his hardness, seeking more of his touch.

His lips had left a trail of fiery kisses and nips along your exposed neck. His hands had moved to caress your back and undo your bra and as the fabric fell away, you felt the rush of cool air brushing against your exposed skin, contrasting from the heat radiating from your bodies. In this moment you knew that you had finally attained what you desired all along: Simon’s touch.

With a swift and commanding movement, he had effortlessly lifted your body and gently placed you back down on the sofa. The sudden change in position made your heart raced and you watched in eagerness as he got up to remove his clothing.

Your legs automatically and slowly fell open, and you ran your hands down your body. Every inch of your skin was heated. Simon smirked, his eyes following the path of your hands as they roamed over your body. He moved closer to you, placing himself between your thighs and you watched as he left a trail of kisses down your body. Each one wet and soft. And as he moved lower, his teeth grazed against your skin, biting softly. The taste of you was intoxicating, a sweet nectar of your favourite body lotion and skin. It was a blend that was uniquely you, a delight he couldn’t resist. He savoured the taste on his tongue.

The sensations intensified as he moved further down your body, his teeth marking your skin. You gasped, your body arching in response to his touch as he continued his path, his breath was warm against your skin and you chuckled a bit.

“Mm, your breath tickles.” You gasped, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. He grinned around your core and groaned, his own desire evident as you spoke. With his teeth, he pulled off the remaining lingerie, leaving you fully exposed. He positioned his head back at your core and with a deliberate slowness he extended his large tongue and traced a tantalising stripe up the length of your wetness. As his tongue teasingly flicked at your clit, the small pressure sent shocks throughout you. He continued his ministrations, his tongue danced and teased at your swollen bud before diving deeper, lapping up your juices greedily. His mouth moved skilfully against you, alternating between soft sucks and licks that drove you wild with pleasure.

“F-Fuck…Si.” You moaned, your voice breathless.

Simon’s ears reddened at your filthy words, but he couldn’t help but laugh softly against you, his fingers pressed softly against your wet entrance while his mouth continued to work its magic.

“That’s right, baby.” He murmured against you, his hot breath against your wetness.

“Si, baby…nng…mmm.” You whimpered under him, feeling a familiar tightening in your stomach.

Simon picked up the pace, his tongue and fingers worked in harmony to bring you closer to the edge. He hummed against your skin, the vibrations intensifying and making you writhe harder.

“That’s it, let it out.” He murmured as he continued his relentless assault on your senses, knowing you were close to climaxing. Your body quivered in response as the knot in your stomach spread over you. Your cries filled the room, loud and unashamed as the pleasure built up.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out, surrendering to the overwhelming waves of pleasure throughout your body.

Simon continued lapping and tonguing your sensitive core, drawing out your climax and helping you ride it out. He relished the feeling of your hot and wet gummy walls clenching around his fingers as he thrusted them slowly in and out. Your ears rung. Once you started to relax under his mouth, he slowly pulled away, lingering for a moment before he licked his lips. He moved up your body, locking his brown eyes with yours and his arms wrapped around you as continued coming down, your chest heaving against his.

“Maybe you should model for me more.”

“Maybe…,” you replied playfully. “I have a lot more outfits to try on.”

[lonewolfwriting89]

PRIMAL

Alpha!Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: His skin was scarred, mapping his dangerous past, displaying his masculine strength. A true Alpha. His hair, dirty blonde, was wild, stray strands dipping into his molten gaze.

Warnings – Language. Smut. NSFW. Alpha theme. Hints at Werewolf!Simon

A/N: A very late kinktober fic, hope you all enjoy 👻😈🐺 apologies for missing in action lately xoxo

————

Maybe it was the sunset.

Maybe it was the impending rain.

You didn’t know what it was, but there was something different. Something electric. The dying light bled down through the trees across the face of a man that you thought you knew. There was something in that filtered light of early evening that made him even more desirable. A way that urged you to act on those fantasies that you had kept hidden in your secret heart.

You could smell the coming rain on the wind as it drifted lazily through the maze of trees and brush, the smell of summer. Maybe spring was known as the time for lovers, but the summer had always done it for you. Hot and moist, at times; pungent. Like the light scent of his sweat that teased your nose.

Simon exerted a kind of benevolent control over you. He had since the day you had met him, standing against a tree and watching you walk along the worn path beside the creek that led through the deep, dark woods. You’d asked his name many times, but he would never tell you, and he never asked for yours. How many weeks had you been walking with your new friend? Three? Four? And yet you still didn’t know what to call him.

This day had been different from the start. For one thing, the way he was dressed. He was leaning against his tree, as always, but gone was the rugged flannel shirt and heavy boots. He stood there nonchalantly in nothing but his faded black jeans. His feet were bare against the floor of the forest and his broad, triangular shaped torso disappeared into the narrow band of his pants. For the first time you were being given the opportunity to take in the sight of the muscles that had teased your waking dreams for the last few weeks. You were tortured with wonder at the thoughts of what was under his tight shirts, the muscle apparent, but modestly covered.

You liked what you saw. He was well built, rippling muscle tense and solid. His skin was scarred, mapping his dangerous past, displaying his masculine strength. A true Alpha. His hair, dirty blonde, was wild, stray strands dipping into his molten gaze.

“Can I walk with you?”, he asked. He always asked the same question, never presuming. You smiled when you said yes. Could this handsome man really be so naïve as not to realise that the only reason you walked in the woods everyday was to see him?

Your hair was tucked deftly away from your face, underneath the hood of your red sweatshirt. The red of the shirt was the only splash of colour to stand out amid the lush greens and earthy browns of the woods. You wore cut off denim shorts and trainers below the red sweatshirt, enjoying the silk of air as it brushed your bare skin. The flapping tails of your white cotton blouse fluttered in the breeze where they hung from under the sweatshirt.

You both walked along the edge of the creek together for some time, watching as the sun began its descent in the western sky and the rain clouds began to gather darkly in a line to the east. The scent of copper came on the wind as the smell of the distant rain blew through the forest. The leaves turned their white undersides skyward with the updraft of the wind.

And that was when you came to the full realisation that you wanted this man. Right now. This quiet, unassuming man who walked and spoke with you for hours, never needing anything from you in return. That he didn’t seem to need you, made you want him more. Simon wasn’t aloof; he was just comfortable, confident. The smoothness of his walk and the grace with which he moved belied a sense of pure unselfconsciousness. The Man in the Woods was truly at home in his skin. At home in the forest.

Simon looked you in the eye and knew what was on your mind immediately. You looked away nervously, wondering how much truth he had seen in your face. You had nearly been lost in his frosted steel gaze. Lupine eyes.

“I want you—I’ve always wanted you”, he said matter-of-factly, “Will you have me?”.

“What?”, you asked, incredulously. You knew you heard him, but his words had stunned you momentarily.

“What did you say?”.

He stepped closer to you and you involuntarily backed away from him. When your back came into contact with the trunk of a large oak tree you abandoned your thoughts of flight. Where would you run anyway? Did you even want to run? The unexpected nature of his advance caught you off guard. It wasn’t how you were used to being approached by men. It wasn’t a corny line in a city bar. It was an honest, up front statement and a serious question, spoken with a purity of mind and an innocence that was out of place in such a lustful proposition.

“I said, I want you. Was that clearer for you?”.

You didn’t move, the stability of the huge tree at your back helped to hold you up on wobbling knees. You didn’t speak, your lips merely trembled.

He leaned against the tree, an arm on either side of your head, as he leaned slowly down, putting his face level with yours. His scent surrounded you, drowning you in an overwhelming lust. Simon whispered again, “Will you have me?”.

You lowered your glimmering eyes and reached your hands out, taking his hips and guiding him against your body.

You felt Simon’s muscled chest pressing against yours, forcing your shoulders back against the curve of the tree trunk, making your breasts stand out, high and proud. He took the zipper to your red sweatshirt and brought it down slowly, in one fluid motion, sweeping it from your shoulders. He stripped you of the sweatshirt and discarded it at your feet. Your nipples pebbled under your flimsy blouse, poking out under the white cotton.

His hand snaked up your body from thigh to breast, his fingers capturing your nipple, rolling it, pinching it. You mewled softly, turning your head and closing your eyes, taking in every sensation.

He leaned in and you tilted your head to receive his kiss, your mouth slightly open, lower lip still trembling. You felt the familiar hot, wet sensation in the juncture of your thighs, but rarely this heated or this soaked. Your pussy pulsed along with your pounding heart and you began to subtly thrust your hips forward, grinding your mound into the hard bulge in his pants.

Just short of completing the kiss, he stopped, extending his tongue slowly and softly, tracing it delicately along the edge of your lips. Feather soft and deliberate, his tongue stretched out and licked your full lips. Your tongue waited impatiently, desperately wanting to reach out and welcome Simon into your mouth, but you held back. The longing was exquisite torture and you were about to burst when he finally crushed your lips to his.

Too soon he broke the passionate kiss, pulling away from you with a quick, soft bite to your lower lip, tugging it gently with his sharp teeth. Had they always been that sharp? Your mind was hazy with pleasure. With one hand he pulled your hair, maybe a bit too roughly, but you had no complaint. With the other hand he began working the button and zipper of your denim shorts, expertly opening the front of your pants to his exploring fingers. Your soft cotton panties were pink and offered no resistance as his hand dove beneath the thin elastic waistband, to your boiling centre.

Simon’s thick fingers nudged and teased your engorged clit, stroking it softly. He nibbled at your neck, drawing your skin into his mouth and brushing it lightly with his tongue. The pressure of his teeth and the softness of his tongue combined to drive you over the edge.

Buttons be damned, you thought, ripping open your blouse, exposing your firm, peaked breasts. Your own hands found their way to his head, entwining fingers in his silken hair and urging his head down to your breasts. Simon happily complied, moving down and sucking one pert nipple into his mouth. As you moaned from the new sensation at your breast, he slipped a finger tentatively inside of you, eliciting an even stronger moan.

As with your lip, he bit softly on your nipple and tugged, slowly rolling his tongue over the puckered skin surrounding it. He pulled you away from the tree, just far enough to slip the white cotton blouse completely from your body, and then he pushed the bare skin of your back against the rough bark, as he moved to your other nipple. You squeezed and released handfuls of his hair, pressing his face to your chest, as he dropped the white blouse on top of the red sweatshirt. Fabric becoming damp from the dew on the floor.

A small cry escaped your lips when the long, thick finger in your pussy found just the spot. Taking that cue, he concentrated his ministrations in that area, and soon you were cumming, walls spasming around his digit. Your body went rigid against the tree, eyes squeezed tightly shut, as the small spasms coursed through you in slow, undulating waves. You pressed yourself greedily against his hand, wanting the waves to go on and on. The sensations at your breast and core were overpowering, your body shuddering, breath ragged.

The distant rain finally caught up to you both, coming down through the heavy forest canopy, making the woods around you sizzle with every little drop. The cold rain on your hot skin sent up little plumes of steam, and Simon let out a moan of pure ecstasy, low and drawn out, luxuriating in the feel of the water on his flesh. He turned his face up, letting the rain drip lazily onto his face, into his mouth. You cast your eyes down and watched the tiny rivulets making their way down his muscular chest and abdomen, through the little line of hair coming up from the waistband of his jeans and disappearing into them.

Brazenly, you allowed your tongue to follow their trails, dragging your tongue hungrily down Simon’s neck, biting and kissing as you went. Down over his chest, stopping to lick and suck his nipple. Biting and kissing down over his stomach, you soon found yourself on your knees in front of him, eyes fastened on the tautly stretched fabric of the denim over his crotch, the shape and size of his cock obvious as it pressed against his hip. You nibbled along his shaft through the jeans, up to the head and back down, pressing soft kisses against the bulge.

Simon felt he was going to explode when you dragged your teeth firmly along the same path that you had just nibbled, your hands coming up and massaging his heavy balls. He groaned gruffly, fists clenched at his sides, fighting for control.

The button was hard to open, due to the tightness of his pants, but you managed and your fingers took the clasp of his zipper, pulling down slowly, one agonising tooth at a time. When you finally had lowered the zipper enough to allow, his cock sprung out, achingly hard and visibly pulsing. With every beat of his heart it leapt slightly. The head was a dark purple and the shaft had one large vein running across the top. It disappeared into the patch of wiry hair at the base of his abdomen.

A glistening drop of clear liquid formed in the slit at its crown and you darted your tongue out, touching it briefly to the tip of his cockhead. The little drop held to your tongue in a long, thick string before breaking and dropping onto your bottom lip and chin.

Wrapping your hand around his cock, you gripped it firmly, giving a little squeeze and watching with delight as more of the clear liquid oozed out. Simon groaned again, reaching out and placing his hands gently against the sides of your head, urging you forward, pleading wordlessly. You looked up and met his gaze, staring down at you with pure black eyes, hungry and needful, almost violent in their gleam. His lips were parted and he breathed slowly and heavily through his mouth, his chest heaving.

One long shiver coursed through his entire body when you finally bent your head and took him into your mouth. Your eyes had been just as hungry as his and you devoured him ravenously, sliding your lips up and down his hard length, feeling every ridge and sinewy knot beneath the skin. You let your saliva pool on your tongue and spread it liberally over his shaft, slipping your mouth down until your nose was pressed into his hair, and then pulling back slowly with a long sucking motion, before diving right back down. You took him into your throat and coaxed him with the muscular contractions you could produce, summoning the load from him. You pulled back once more and heard him grunt and then groan again, feeling his cock swell further in your mouth.

“Not yet”, he breathed, desperately pulling his throbbing hardness from your mouth. He was going to explode if you didn’t stop and he had very precise intentions for his seed. It was not to be wasted.

A few more loving licks along his cock was all you had time for before he grabbed your shoulders and brought your to your feet. Once again, he pressed your back against the oak tree harshly.

Simon slid down your body onto his knees, his tongue delving quickly into your naval, and then dipping down to the edge of your pink panties. As he nuzzled your sex through your shorts, he slipped off your shoes and socks, his big, calloused hands slipped leisurely up your legs. From your ankles to your knees he teased your skin with his fingertips, a slight tickling across the backs of your knees. His hands reached up behind you, grabbing your ass and pressing your body to his face. Simon grabbed the loosened waistband of your denim shorts, brought them down smoothly and you stepped out of them, arching your back against the tree for stability. Just as quickly he brought his hands back up and grabbed the elastic band of your panties and brought them down, baring your completely to his eyes.

Ravenous.

Leaning his head forward, he placed a firm lip kiss above your cleft, inhaling your scent deeply as he pulled away. Driven by your smell, he lunged at you, biting into your hip, the last vestiges of his self-control being all that stood between pleasure and pain. A surprised gasp, followed by a soft moan, answered his bite.

The rain began to come down heavier, the canopy of the forest barely slowing the drops. A cool wind picked up, twisting through the trees like a sentient being, seeking and finding the two lovers. You both shivered, but only partly from the chill.

Simon picked up your right leg and placed it over his shoulder, spreading your for his kiss. His tongue moved out slowly, finding your clit, engorged and reddened. Pulsing with animalistic desire. You raised your head and cried out, one arm bent back along the trunk of the tree, the other holding his head. You involuntarily ground your pussy onto his face, hard against his mouth. Your left leg nearly buckled when he curled his tongue around your clit and gently sucked it into his mouth, coaxing your orgasm in much the same way you had attempted to bring his. He sucked at you softly, yet voraciously. He was a man starving for you, trying to engulf you entirely into himself. A deep, resounding growl rose from his throat, the air vibrating from his lips and sending you once again over that edge.

You let out a small scream just as a distant clap of thunder began to rumble over the forest. You rode the waves of the thunder as it faded away. You cried again, another orgasm ripping through you, pulling your entire being to your centre. To his mouth.

The tree bark was rough on your back, possibly cutting your flesh, but you were beyond caring. You leaned forward, pressing harder to his lips, and then slamming yourself back against the tree in pure wantonness, over and over. There was no pain. Only blinding pleasure.

You didn’t realise it when he brought your leg from his shoulder and back to the ground, so lost in ecstasy. Your body trembled still, the remnants of the climax still rippling outward from your core, as you sagged against the oak, eyes closed. Every nerve in your body refocused its intention to carrying on the devastating feelings coursing through it.

The ripples were coming slower as the thunderstorm grew ever closer. You tried to sink into the tree, to feel everything at once. You felt the cool rain dripping on your skin, a trailing drop running to, and then going around your nipple. You curled your toes into the wet, mossy ground. The soft murmur of the rain on the leaves sang to you.

A loud, obnoxious clap of thunder brought you out of your reverie and your eyes snapped open. You gasped, startled, as you realised that you were face to face with Simon again. He was gazing at you with a predatory gleam in his icy eyes.

In one move he was against your body and inside you, sliding up into you as you stood against the tree. With his hands on your hips Simon raised your body and lowered you onto his cock, thrusting himself madly into you, too insistent to care about anything else.

You turned your cheek against the tree, exposing your neck, and he could no longer hold back. A bestial groan escaped his lips, followed by a snarl through clenched teeth. Every muscle in his body was wire taut, the force of his thrusts lifting you from your feet, suspended between the tree and Simon. You planted your feet firmly on top of his thighs and rode him, taking each pounding stroke as deep as gravity and flesh would allow.

His eyes remained focused on the smooth curve of your neck, the delicate slope to your shoulder. The need began to slip from the corners of his mouth as he saw and heard your pulse. Simon couldn’t take it. He lunged forward and bit you, hard. Too hard. You cried out, but you never broke your stride. He tasted a small bit of your blood on his tongue and it drove him to the point of rage.

Lightning split the sky just above, with an instantaneous crack of thunder. Not far away from you both, a tree fell, burnt and smouldering. The rain was pounding down on you. The wind drove it down and into the forest, hard against your rutting bodies.

You screamed with another orgasm and he howled with rage, pain and lust as he emptied himself inside of you. Thunder and lightning crashed above you, pale in comparison to the rapacious nature of the beast coursing through both of you. Simon looked into your eyes and saw the lightning flash. You looked into his and saw the truth of what he was. Half man, half beast.

You rode out the storm and the passion, moving slowly, kissing and touching. Caressing. You brought your feet back to the ground, pumping your hips slowly, letting him go soft inside of you as the storm blew away, almost as quickly as it came.

At last, he slipped from your core and he stepped away from you. You said nothing. The rain dripping from the forest canopy, the receding thunder, and your breathing were the only sounds. With his hand he softly stroked your cheek, gazing intently into your eyes. Then he turned and walked away, naked, into the heart of the forest.

You watched him go, wondering if you would ever see him again. Touching your hand to the bleeding bite at the bend of your neck, you winced absently. The pain was negligible, but it would surely leave a scar. A scar that would undoubtedly tie you to him.

The thunder rolled on and a wolf howled in the distance, answered by the howls of many others. Through the canopy of trees you could see the moon trying to peek out from behind the lingering storm clouds.

Only now, it seemed to call to you.

————

[cinnamo6]

Simon “Ghost” Riley and the neighbors puppy!girl

fem!reader

warning(s): none a/n: sorry for not posting I’ve been trying not to kill myself teehee. Anyway here’s wonder-wall. (Not proofread/probably grammar mistakes)

Beside Simon lived his neighbor of nearly 4 years. Simon was often out on deployment and only saw his neighbor occasionally. Small talk would be exchanged but that was the extent of it.

One day as he was making his way to his front door, he spotted his neighbor and what looked to be a girl trailing behind him. The closer they got, he realized that it was a hybrid. A dog hybrid to be exact. His neighbor adopted a hybrid. Now that was interesting.

You glanced at Simon curiously as you passed and quickly turned away when you both made eye contact. He was intimidating to say the least.

“Cute.” He thought.

From then on things changed a bit. Now instead of silence, his empty flat was filled with the sound of your laughter through the shared walls. Sometimes he could feel the place shake when you ran around. He knew you were a bit clumsy based on all the times he heard a loud thump and the whining that followed.

This should’ve annoyed Simon, or at the very least peeved him. But he found that he didn’t mind the noise. Welcomed it, even.

Sometimes it was comforting to hear your giggles disturb the quiet of the empty flat.

Secretly he started to look forward to seeing his neighbor when he stepped out, because he knew you’d be there.

The closest he’d ever gotten to you was when you were on a walk trailing behind your owner. You spotted Simon and, for reasons unknown, started to sprint towards him excitedly. His neighbor was startled by this and quickly grabbed you before you could reach him. The baclava managed to hide Simon’s look of surprise. He glanced at his neighbor and raised an eyebrow quizzically.

His neighbor swallowed, nervous he’d officially screwed up.

“I’m so sorry. She’s never done this before, I have no idea what got into her.”

Simon looked down at you wriggling in your neighbors grip, desperately trying to escape. His eyes softened.

“S’alright.” He muttered, and placed a gentle hand on your head. “Sure she meant no harm.”

He retreated back into his flat feeling far too soft for his liking.

[nova-amor]

tags. +18 mdni, female reader. cunnilingus, overstimulation, biting, mild choking, coercing. pet name: ‘bird’. wc; 670.

“Simon—” His name slipped from your lips in the form of a whisper, the syllables drawn out in a long breath. Your heart stammered in your chest as his tongue ceased its ravenous assault, your half-lidded eyes peering down at the man who had found his home burrowed between your legs. Your thighs shook as the soft, wet muscle of his tongue licked a fat stripe up your sex, the tip dragging up the hood of your sensitive clit and exposing it to his warm breath.

Your thighs trembled from the sensation, your head lolling to the side as he flickered the pointed tip of his tongue side-to-side against your little nub. His honey-brown eyes remained on you. Amusement and desire fueled the intensity of his gaze, the twitch of a smirk tugging at the corner of his wet lips.

With a deep rumble, he gave you a moment to make your plea, the murmur of a “Hm? What is it, bird?” leaving his lips.

“Si— I don’t think,” Simon’s mouth inched away from your sopping cunt, his tongue darting out to lick at the remnants of your spent lingering on his lips. His chin dripped with saliva and creamy cum, the short prickles of his five o’clock shadow glistening under the amber glow of the nearby nightstand lamp. “I don’t think I can handle anymore— I think,” Your sentence came to a sudden halt, the sharpness of your breath stinging your lungs as you inhaled.

Simon’s sharp canines nipped at the delicate skin of your inner thigh, his thick fingers curling around the tightening muscles to keep you in place. Your hips bucked at the sensation of his tongue darting out to flick against your skin, his teeth shortly returning to sink deeper into the flesh. A whimper left your lips as he continued the cycle, your brain short-circuiting like an old processing computer.

“Stop,” Simon ordered, his tone so casual, it was as if he had gotten used to torturing you. Which he had. He had made residence between your legs an hour ago, feasting on the plump flesh of your folds and nibbling on your clit as if it were his last meal.

“What?” You questioned as he lavished attention on the sensitive skin. One of his hands trailed up the length of your body, ghosting over the terrain of your hips and stomach before settling on your breast. He sank his canines further into you, ripping a pained hiss from between your teeth while sweet slick dripped from your core.

His calloused fingers kneaded at the soft flesh, squeezing and pinching at your hardened nipple, eliciting a cry of pleasure from your drying lips. “Stop thinking.” Simon peppered a few kisses up your thigh, laying a fat peck upon your clit before drawing the bud into his mouth. He released it with a wet ‘pop’; “Stop using that pretty little brain of yours and let me enjoy my meal. I’m starving.” He relayed, speaking as if he hadn’t ripped orgasm after orgasm from you.

“Simon, please…”

“One more,” Simon cut you off before you could continue, his desire to consume you making him impatient. He gave your nipple another sharp pinch before moving up to curl his fingers around your neck, keeping your head in place to watch him as he ate you out. “Gimmie one more, and then I’ll stop. I promise.” He lied as his thumb rubbed soothing stripes up and down the side of your throat.

Your eyes grew hazy as his tongue flicked at your clit, the tip of it tracing your puffy slit. He delved deeper into your heat, relishing in its sweetened musk as the taste of your arousal flooded his mouth. You nearly cried his name in the form of a high-pitched whine as he plunged his tongue deeper into you, driving it further into you with frantic pumps.

“Just one more,” He growled the promise. “I know you can do it. You’ve always been such a good girl for me.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

Just Like Dad (1 of 4)

Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff, some humor, brief mention of pregnancy, canon-typical swearing, Simon is a girl dad

Word Count: 890

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Filling out a parent questionnaire leads to Simon having to answer a hard question.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad

“Daddy.”

 A small fist curls around the bottom of Simon’s shirt, tugging. He glances down, finding his daughter there holding out a piece of paper.

“What’s this?” Simon takes it from her, his gaze shifting to the black ink.

“It’s for school.”

It’s a questionnaire. Simons scans over the questions quickly before returning his gaze to his daughter. “Give me a second, love.”

Simon packs up the files he brought home from work. Grabbing a pencil, he strolls out to the living room, his daughter on his heels. Simon takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, placing the paper and pencil on the coffee table. His daughter snags a pillow off the couch, dropping it on the floor next to his legs. Sitting, she stares at him expectantly.

Simon nods toward the paper. “You need to practice your letters.”

She groans. “But it’s about you!”

Simon slowly slides the paper and pencil over to her. She pouts but takes up the pencil, the graphite tip poised above the first line.

“Name,” she says, glancing up at him.

“You know my name.”

She squints at him and looks back at the paper, taking her time to write each letter. She holds it up and Simon smiles. It’s stilted and a bit sideways, but it’s there. She asks several more questions like favorite food and color. Simon doesn’t understand the point to it but they’re likely doing a project on a parent.

“Job,” she says, expectant.

Job. His occupation. That’s a fucking complicated question.

“Military,” he answers.

She frowns. “How do you spell that?”

“Sound it out.”

She does so slowly, elongating each letter as she writes.

Simon glances over her shoulder and chuckles. “That’s an ‘i,’ darling.” He points and she aggressively erases her mistake.

When she finishes, she looks up at him. “Explain.”

Explain. Explain.

Explain…what?

That he kills people? That he negotiates the release of hostages? That he faces violence every day he’s on the job? That he sees some of the worst in people?

How the bloody hell does he explain all that to a six-year-old girl? How does he summarize the violence into a watered-down version that’s digestible enough for her, her teacher, the other students, and her school.

Simon swallows. “I stop bad people from doing bad things.”

She blinks. “Do I have to write all that?”

Simon barks a laugh. “It’s one sentence.”

She silently mimics him, shaking her little body in annoyance as she begins to write. Simon has no idea where the attitude comes from, but it’s likely from Johnny.

“Next question,” prompts Simon once the sentence is written down.

She hesitates and then turns in his direction. “Can I be like you when I grow up?”

Could she? Yes. But the very idea of her in the line of danger frightens him. It twists his stomach, knowing all the things that could befall her if she were to follow in his footsteps. Simon’s gut-instinct is to tell her “No.”

“Why do you want to be like me?” he asks.

She shrugs. “You’re strong. I want to be strong like you.”

“You don’t need to do what I do to be strong.”

“Uh, no,” she says, matter-of-fact, peering at the next question.

Fucking hell, she’s going to be an absolute hellion when she hits puberty. Sighing, Simon rubs at his temple. For some reason, he glances away from his daughter, his gaze landing on you in the hallway. With your hand cradling your slightly swollen belly, you watch on with an amused expression.

Number two. Will this one be like her? Wanting to do what he does?

“Daddy.”

Simon turns back to his daughter. She points at the paper with the tip of her pencil, head tilted slightly to the side.

He leans forward. “What’s the next question?”

“What does your day look like?” She grins up at him, ready for his answer.

Simon hears your soft laugh from the hall, and then your footsteps across the carpet. Your hand reaches out to cradle the back of Simon’s neck. On instinct, he lifts his arm, resting his hand on the small of your back.

“Go on, Simon. Tell her,” you tease, knowing that he’s struggling to form an answer.

“Do you put your mask on first?” The question is innocent but Simon laughs anyway.

“No,” he chuckles, gently taking the paper and pencil from her. “I kiss your mother first.”

Simon drags you in for a kiss.

“Ugh. Gross.” She makes a face, tiny nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Still want my job?” Simon presents the paper and she snatches up in her little fist.

“No thanks,” she sing-songs, stuffing the paper in her backpack, crinkling it up.

You hide your grin in Simon’s shoulder, and Simon tugs you closer. “Good save,” you murmur.

Simon presses his lips to the top of your head. “She has one of my masks.”

“I know,” you giggle. “Found it under her pillow this morning. I put it in your bag.”

“Was it covered in your makeup this time?”

“Had to wash it.”

Simon shakes his head in exasperation. He’s not annoyed. Just perplexed. He doesn’t understand why his daughter wants to be just like him.

It’s because she doesn’t know.

No. She doesn’t know. But one day she will. She might even change her mind.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @cinnabeanz @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

[mockerycrow]

2&3 with ghost x fem!reader plsss🙏

SMUT PROMPTS: Ghost Drabble; “Putting A Hand Over Their Mouth To Be Quiet” + “Overstimulating Them Until They’re Begging” (Fem!Reader - NSFW UNDER THE CUT

I didn’t know if you wanted to overstim Ghost or for him to overstim you, so I chose for him to overstim you. If you’d like it the other way, don’t be afraid to request this combo again!

You whine against the gloved mouth that’s covering your mouth and nearly covering your nose—fuck, his fingers are fucking into you at a nasty pace, giving you no breaks. Ghost whispers into your ear, “Do’you hear how slick you are, lovie? How it’s only us, my fingers deep in your cunt, and you’re this wet for me?” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you’re nearing your second orgasm of the night, just from his fingers alone.

You lean more against his chest, one of your hands grabbing the wrist near your mouth and the other near your greedy pussy. You try to pry the hand off of your mouth off, and once it’s off for a moment you sob out, “M’cumming—fuckfuck, please, I’m—“ Ghost’s fingers don’t hesitate to bully your g-spot, and your legs slightly raise as you orgasm, your body trembling with your eyes closed.

Except, his fingers don’t stop. Your eyes open frantically when you feel his fingers fuck into your sensitive cunt over and over, almost like he’s trying to fuck you stupid with just his hand. You try to let out muffled protests and Ghost shushes you, muttering in your ear, “Let me do this, sweet girl. Love how your cunt squeezes my fingers, cum for me one more time. Ah, ah, ah—No, darling, cum again, just like this, or not at all.”

[themotherofhorses]

NO! Because what if I said mean!superior!Simon Riley x new recruit!fem!reader ??

An equally dark and obsessed!Simon Riley, who became stupidly OBSESSED with one of the newest recruits currently housed on base. You're young and naive and (in his eyes) need an older man to corrupt the living shit out of the dumb little innocence clinging to every action of yours. So much smaller and softer than him — with the prettiest bright eyes and the sweetest, dimpled smile.

Such a stark difference in character between the two; perhaps that is the main reason why he wants you so badly.

Ghost knows everything about you — from your instagram account to your childhood street address and that adorable build-a-bear plushie that you somehow managed to slip into your duffle bag (right now, it sits quite snugly between your two pillows, but sooner than later, it’ll wind up in *his* bed).

As time passes, he only becomes meaner — a terrible combination of aggressive and antagonistic and frightening. A literal bully. But he cannot help it. It’s a shitty excuse, he knows it, but there is something so fuckin' delicious about catching an eyeful of your pretty face crumpling at every insult he spits out.

The way your head needs to tilt upwards to meet his heavy glare, causing your pink, plump lips to twist into a pout. If he was forced to define it, he’d claim it’s practically an aphrodisiac for him.

Ah, you won't ever survive in my world, he tells himself.

Anyone can see it. You ought to remain back in his home flat — safe and sound with his chubby-cheeked baby bouncing on your hips, waiting for your husband to return home from combat.

So imagine a dark, obsessive, and mean!superior!Ghost overhearing that you were almost murdered by enemy fire during a recent recon mission. A stray slug gazed your upper thigh, and a second came a little too close to your pretty, empty head.

And sure, Ghost is beyond pissed about it, but he's driven more upset over the fact that no one told him; instead, he had to learn through word-of-mouth by some rookies seated within the mess hall.

(Behind him, Soap and Gaz couldn't really understand why their lieutenant reacted so strongly. After all, he hates you …. right?)

What the hell? You almost died. DIED! Not only that, but you were almost stolen away from him. Did you not fuckin' understand that? Death came so fuckin' close to robbing his precious girl from him.

In the meantime — as he awaits your return to base — Ghost sits atop his bed, casually planning out what'll happen next.

There is an empty room in his flat — straight down the hall from the master bedroom, perfect space for the nursery. In fact, it has a nice, single-hung window that he can add drapes to (if you fancy looking outside while tending to the baby).

The bed is, of course, ready for you, and beneath the bathroom sink are those scented body washes you adore. Thank bloody fuck Bath & Bodyworks allows online shopping and shipping.

[honestlyhiswife]

Simon and his daughter growing up with TF141

Simon Riley the man you’ve married. Also, the father of your daughter! Being the baby of Task Force 141 meant that she had… an irregular childhood so to say.

As a child, she spent a lot of time around them, Sgt. Soap and Sgt. Gaz becoming her bestfriends (bodyguards).

If you were to open her childhood photo album, you’d find a plethora of photos of her around Camp, with a bountiful amount of photos being with her best buds “soup” and “gaga” (because Gaz taught her to dance Bad Romance by Lady Gaga). Some photos, you’ll see the two in the background, in some you’ll find them throwing her in the air, with a stressed Simon in the background, mid-sprint.

Captain Price is another story with your daughter. Otherwise known as “Santa” due to his mutton chops, he was known to her as the man who had a secret stash of candy. But Simon knew him as the man who fueled his daughter’s sugar rushes (and inevitable crashes) but his wife’s stress too because why would you hand her another KitKat!

Simon and you were naturally protective of her growing up, as you had a military background as well and grown up in a military family. No photos of her could be found on anybody’s social media. She got a boo-boo? Simon’s pulling her favourite Disney Princess bandaids out from his pocket while you kiss it.

When she’s older, she encounters a lot of other personnel she barely recognises around Camp but trust, they know her. The Daughter of The Ghost. She starts learning how to fire on base when the Range Master approaches her and says “Ha! I remember meeting you when you were a kid, headphones over your ears, still flinching at the sounds. Looks like you’re creating those sounds now, pleasure seeing you again.” It just leaves your daughter confused but you remind her that it’s “Santa’s Friends”

How did Ghost even get married? Scratch that, who would even fall in love with him? You did.

You, the only woman who sees the way his crow lines have grown with each smile and laugh you tease out of him. You, the only woman who has guided him to the shower, to bed, and to rest after a rough deployment. You, his wife, who he has the privilege of calling his.

[lethalchiralium]

Cruel Intentions | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: …so this is a thing that’s literally so old. BETA’D BY MY LOVELY @as-is-above-so-below

song: Cruel Intentions by Delacey & G-Eazy

LYRICS FROM SONG USED!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. mentions of ex-boyfriend john price, you and ghost are toxic, mentions of breeding kink/mentions of pregnancy. SMUT. car sex, fingering (f receiving). NSFW UNDER THE CUT. MDNI.

summary: After another shitty break up with your on and off boyfriend Captain John Price, you always seem to find yourself in the comfort of his Lieutenant’s car - and letting him do whatever he pleases.

I like sex, I like flowers, I like attention.

“You look good tonight.”

Don't ever put me second.

Hands settled on the door, and you peered into his familiar black Trans Am, nails tapped against the inside. “You say that every time.”

“Fine; would you like me to just say what I would if I wasn’t restraining myself?”

You chuckled, questioning going back into your apartment but you said, “Tell me.”

“Get in the car, baby, and I’ll tell you.”

I bet you won't find nothing feels this good this side of Heaven. So stop talking, pull my stockings down,

It wasn’t long before his hand danced up your thigh, under your skirt, and it wasn’t long before you were biting your lip, the feeling of digits inside of you made you already more attentive to your boy toy turned benefit. A hand on the steering wheel and the other massaged you, the small purrs from your pretty lips made him smile.

“Don’t waste your pretty little voice ‘til we get there.” He spoke with an almost bored tone in his beautiful accent, but you knew he was living in how he touched you; how he got you so high without holding a flame to anything.

“Fuck, Ghost, stop talking,”

You're my cruel intention.

I bet you won't find nothing feels this good, this side of, this side of, this side of Heaven.

He giggled and slowed his pace, the rings that sat at the base of his fingers now collided with your skin, warm to the touch and soaked in you. Did that matter? No, not to Ghost. “So good for me, always good for me.”

“Couldn’t you wait until we get there?” Your left hand grabbed his thigh, the right held onto his forearm as he kept going deeper. You bit your tongue and he laughed.

“What can I say? I am a man of taste,” he purred as the car slowed down at an empty stop light. You never worried about someone looking in; the windows were tinted and Ghost drove fast on nights like these. “It’s not like I could’ve; in that outfit, fuck, I jus’ wanna shred it.”

Uh, think you got me, but the problem is

I'm already hip but I see the play I just been watching this,

His fingers curled and your breath hitched in your throat, clutching his thigh as your head hit the headrest. You bit your tongue, trying not to give him the satisfaction of what he wanted to hear if he didn’t follow your clear directions - don’t drive and fuck me.

Well, it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing; missed him after a week and sucked his dick as he drove you back to his place. He fucked you good that night, and was the reason why you didn’t look at anyone else. You wouldn’t look at anyone else. He showed his love physically by fucking you better than he did last time.

Happy to see the way you call me everyday, it's obvious, plus it's 2AM you know what time it is, you just wanna have me come and chase you, boost your confidence

His hand became a little faster and you had to grip his thigh even harder to stop yourself from moaning; you couldn’t give him that satisfaction of breaking the one rule you had. You could see his smirk in the corner of your eye and your right hand slid from his forearm down to his wrist, forcing him to go knuckle deep into you. He grunted in annoyance and his thumb flicked your clit, a shaky breath escaped your lips and his smirk turned into a smile. Your eyes glared at him, seeing how his other hand curled around the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white - the way his eyes were half-lidded as he watched the road.

“Come on babe, moan my name and I might fuck you good tonight.”

Shower you with flowers, give you all these daily compliments, yeah, careful if you fall in love, then it's gon' be a consequence.

“Fuck you.” You whispered and his hand stopped completely, your head rolled to the side, looking at your boy toy with an annoyed glare. His fingers curled inside of you and you almost purred, you were almost there. A few more moments of his fast and curling fingers made your head hit the headrest and groan, the first orgasm in the car of the night.

His canines shined in the dark and he retracted his hand, the addicting feeling was now gone and you were left high and not so dry. “If you’re gonna play hard to get, it’s only gonna be worse for you.” You groaned as you watched his fingers disappear into his mouth, sucking and licking all of your juices off of him. His tongue flicked around his rings and that’s when your hand let go of his wrist to make its way down to replace what he had taken away; but his almost clean hand grabbed yours. He took only a moment to look at you, saying, “Don’t.” His hand brought yours to his lips, kissing the back of it as you saw how the lights from the city were long gone.

We keep going - it's no turning back, it ain't no stopping us, Had you at “Hi. What's your name?" Burning in a flame, a little fling you turn into a game, and since we started fucking, it's never been the same,

Your eyes trailed to his face, a smile on your face as he kissed your hand again. His eyes glanced away as the car turned and slowed to a stop at a hidden cliff, showing the lights of LA. He kept the keys in the ignition as his eyes looked at you, glassy and knowing what he was going to see. A pretty little thing, one he gets to watch beg for him to make her choke on his cock.

The idea of stopping? I can't even entertain, you driving me insane, craziest I met. Drinking champagne, we started fucking on a jet, took you to the mile high, then we start to sweat,

I got you in a bag but you still play hard to get.

His hand let go of you and unbuckled both of you as your own hands grabbed his hair, crashing his lips to yours. Your body pressed into his chest and his hands grabbed your head, deepening the kiss so that way his tongue could taste you again; his drug. Your nails scratched his scalp and his tongue stuttered for a moment, you didn’t even notice. He pulled away for a moment, and your eyes opened and met his as he spoke, “Get in the fucking back.”

Yeah, when you over this is light work, love that when you put them heel ons with that tight skirt,

You both got out and pulled back the seats, allowing Lieutenant Simon Riley to sit down in the back, his legs spread out and his hands unbuckling his belt as he watched you in that skirt and the heels he loved to see you in. He licked his lips as his hands abandoned his pants and grabbed your hips, pulling your skirt down, and revealing his favorite pair of panties that made your ass look damn good. He smiled wide as you awkwardly stepped out of the skirt before he pulled you onto his lap. Your hands grabbed for the black tie around his neck, his hands gripped your ass. You glanced up at him as you began to untie it from his neck.

“Baby,” he whispered as his fingers found your warm hand, his eyes flicked up to your eyes, you were focused on that tie but his hand interlocked with yours. You looked down at him and he smiled, eyes twinkling as he spoke, “You really are beautiful, Y/N.”

You sat back on his legs and rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

“At least I tell you more than Price ever did.”

You leaned forward a little as his other hand rested on your cheek. “You fuck me more than he ever did.”

He chuckled and your hands then sat on his jaw. “Better than he ever will.” And he was right - even with the on-and-off relationship with his best friend, you were always coming back to Simon like a dog. Of course, when you let Captain John Price kiss your feet and say sorry, you wouldn’t dare text his Lieutenant - you’d never cheat on him when you were together officially. The arguments only get harder to deal with, harder to see him leave for so long after saying horrible things and breaking it off, again. It only ever drove you back into the tattooed clutch of Price’s lap dog, fucking out the anger and hurt of your broken relationship.

Simon’s eyes sparkled and his hands rested on your thighs, gentle yet it still sent electricity through your body. “Do you want me to show you how much better I can get?”

Sleeping over almost every night, wake up in my shirt, if we make it official, I think maybe this can might work

Your ex-boyfriend’s best friend gripped your thighs and you went to work on his tie, quickly throwing it off of him as his fingers gripped your panties, he loved that set but he didn’t care; a rip sounded and you yelped, looking back to him as he tossed the ripped piece of fabric to his side. “Si!” He giggled as his lips connected to your neck, teeth pushing into your skin as his hands pulled your legs even farther apart. “That hurt, you know how much I spent on that?”

“‘M sorry, baby.” He mumbled as your hands made quick work of tossing his belt to the side and unbuttoning his nice dress pants. A touch to his crotch and he gripped your legs tighter, chewing on your neck harder made you whine. Your hands stopped fucking with his pants and carded into his blond hair, pressing a kiss to it.

Fuck the heavy shit, tho' we living in this moment, it's not even mine but I treat it like I own it

“You sure John still doesn’t know?” You whispered. He looked up at you with a sweet smile.

“He doesn’t even know I own a car in the States.” You giggled at that and his hands clawed at the bottom of your shirt. “Fuckin’ his off and on again girlfriend anytime while he can barely even keep up with his sleep schedule.”

He slid the shirt off your body and quickly raised his hips, tugging down his pants while you sat up on her knees - your head knocked against the roof of the car. His eyes trailed down your body then flicked back up to meet yours again.

Six missed calls, but ain't tripping, where your phone went? Ain't thinking bout that now, nothing matters now, got you so wet

Your hands settled on his shoulders as you slowly slid down his cock, he groaned as your nails scratched up his shoulders to his scalp, happy that he decided to ditch the mask again. “You’re so-“ he groaned as you finally bottomed out and he loudly panted, “tight tonight.”

“Shut up and let me fuck you.” You spoke and a hand slid down his head to his neck, pressing in your fingers to slow his oxygen intake. The man’s body buzzed with adrenaline; it’s been a few months since you had ridden him and it was the best orgasm of his life. To date, at least.

You rose up and Ghost moaned, missing the gentle touch of your thighs connecting with his but craved how slow you started to go. His hands crawled to your hips and you grunted in distaste. “Don’t make me tie you up, sweetheart.”

That turned him all the way on. His hands pulled you up and down, making you gasp loudly but after a few slow motions of your pussy up and down his cock, your hand on his throat jumped to his cheek. “Hands off.”

Ghost loved you like this, his hands moved away from your shirt and to the headrests in the back, pressing his arms against them hard enough to resist the intense emotion to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk.

Light a couple candles in the room, pop some Moet, every single night I'm tryna go but we ain't go yet

Your hand moved back to his throat and your other hand dipped into his button down, as you began to rise again. Rise all the way up and off of him, touching his tip with your clit before going back down at an agonizingly slow pace to him but amazing to you. Being filled so well and the pain felt miles away while you kept going, slowly and Ghost was going to lose it if you didn’t pick up the pace. The faster you went, the faster he could reach that climax he only reached with you. The mind-numbing stimulation made stars in his vision for hours after.

“Pick it up, love,” he grunted as you slid back down his dick, starting to reach your second orgasm.

“I’m not- Fuck, I’m done with him,” you answered as the hand that was ghosting over his skin moved to your nipple, rubbing it between your fingers.

“Oh god,” he panted as his hands gripped the headrests. “Don’t tell me that, might ask Price to help me fuck you, love.”

You finally began to pace faster and you both groaned, low and high both blended to create a melody of love, whether you knew it or not. “God, I don’t think I can handle that, your dick is big enough- Fuck!” His hips thrust upwards and he hit the one place only he was able to, causing you to falter in your rhythm.

His right hand left the headrest and went right for your hair, your pace grew faster. “Fucking bitch- I- if I-“You slammed your hips down and grew double times faster, his hips began to roll as you kept going, faster and faster making him whine. “Fuck- fuck- God,”

“You just really like this, don’t you?” You purred as your high was so close, and as soon as he thrust his hips again, your eyes rolled back into your head, keeping your pace as you whimpered, “Like sitting here and getting fucked?” Your hands disappeared from your own body to lean forwards, placing your elbows on the top of the seats to hear the delicious moans coming from him.

“Yes-“ he began but your teeth skidded down his neck and that’s when his hands abandoned their place, grabbing onto your hips and pushing his cock even deeper into you.

Finishes, she clenches like she ain't ready to go yet. Yeah, I mean you crazy and you know that, yeah crazier than me, keep on playing mind games, I ain't got time for that shit, it gives me migraines

You let out a tangled cry, your sweet spot getting hit faster since your skin met together harder, Ghost groaned when he heard you. “C’mon, baby, fuck me,” he spoke and you tried to go faster, sloppy but it didn’t matter cause his hips met yours every time. “I got you.”

A myriad of moans and whines came from your mouth as the blinding white feeling of another orgasm hit you like a punch, your hands grabbed his hair and pulled his head back with that strength. “God, Ghost-“

“Say my name,” he whined as the growing pressure in his stomach began to make him want to fucking lay you down and fuck you so right, but God, his cock felt so good in her right now. He wouldn’t dare move from your body pressed to his, riding him like it was your last day alive.

“Simon,” You breathed and he smirked, faster thrusts from his hips and there were only broken gasps that came from your lips. The sound of his skin meeting yours over and over was like a melody, one you loved to hear.

Only the realness, it's what's running through my veins, and every time I'm in that, she always screaming my name.

Your stamina was gone, which made him slide your back to lay on the seats, he kept his pace the whole time. Your hands clawed at his shirt, and he groaned again. He went harder the next thrust, hitting your spongy spot and earning another cry of overstimulation from your lips, to which he met them with his own. The dance was one you have done before, deep and full of passion; you shouldn’t be loving each other like this but neither of you couldn’t stop. Addiction is hard to kick.

“I just want to make you mine,” he grunted as he kept going harder and harder; that high was so close but he wanted you to feel so much that you forgot about his best friend. Ghost truly loved you, and he couldn’t say if he wanted you because you were his best friend’s ex-girlfriend or because he was in love with you.

“If-“ You moaned as you could barely even ride your high down as you felt another one begin to bundle in the bottom of your belly. “If you promise to not be everything that hurts me.”

He wished he could’ve closed his eyes and not met your saddened eyes, but he met them with a trustful stare. He removed a hand that had held him up, only to lay it on your cheek as his thrusts began to slow to a stop.

“Y/N, I’ll love you until the end of time.”

“And I can’t hear that again,” You whispered, your hands cradling his face. “Don’t say you love me, this’ll get complicated and I lose everything.”

Ghost’s heart cracked, hearing the rejection with his dick still inside you made everything so much more confusing, but he knew he wasn’t your number one choice. He knew you had to love him, the talks and the time you’ve spent together and the hours you’ve spent getting fucked by each other had to mean something.

Simon knew this was all in his head and he knew he had made an agreement, to pleasure each other mutually without any distractions.

I like sex, I like flowers, I like attention.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and his hands left your cheek as you winced a little.

There was only a moment of awkward silence before you spoke, “I hope you know that I am not leaving this car until I can’t walk.”

A silent agreement to not talk about it.

“But,” You closed your eyes as your hands roamed his face. “You can’t fucking cum in me, I don’t want to have to explain why I’m pregnant suddenly.”

He chuckled before he started to slow down again. “Just go fuck Price after this, or invite me to a threesome or something.”

You whimpered out a laugh as your stomach began to tighten again. “Then he’d know that you fuck me better and he’d get jealous.”

“He’d know that I would never put you second.”

Don't ever put me second.

His thrusts then became violent, skin slapping against skin like a song and your throat screamed melodies of moans and screams of pleasure. He bit his lip the whole time, trying to hold back his orgasm as he watched you writhe underneath him like a goddess. God, it felt like an eternity for him, watching how your skin moved and how your tongue curled when you orgasmed again.

You hit another orgasm in a record time and it was getting impossible for Ghost to not immediately cum when seeing your half-lidded eyes, he gripped the wall of the car while the other near your head now moved to your neck, squeezing tightly which made a smile appear on your lips as he went hard.

“Fuck, Si, I ca-an’t again,” You whimpered with what little breath you had, “I-I-“

“Come on,” he growled as his hips snapped so quickly you yelped. “Cum on me.”

They snapped again and you cried out, your hands went up to his shoulders, pulling him a little forwards as he finally let go. The feeling of release made him scream out your name, thrusting through his orgasm while you began to ride out your overstimulation. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-“

He stopped abruptly with his whole length in you, balls against your ass and you both panted.

I bet you won't find nothing feels this good this side of Heaven, so stop talking, pull my stockings down,

“Gimme my phone.” He panted and your hand moved to his pants on the car floor, digging around before you finally handed him the black phone. Your eyes closed as he took some deep breaths before making a call.

“Hey, Price.”

You're my cruel intention.

——

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