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141 + König w/ a reader who’s just had a long day

—————

141 + König & reader

Short Drabble

You’ve had a long day on base, boring and packed full of things you didn’t want to do. Now you just need to rest.

By the time you finally find yourself making dinner the sun has set, leaving the only light to be provided by the LED bulbs of the communal kitchen. It’s a miserable feeling, everything is so quiet and still. Nothing feels like it should, especially with the fact that all of the boys have retreated to their rooms, leaving you alone to sort yourself out.

You give up on whatever pathetic attempt at “dinner” you’re trying, opting instead to slouch back into a chair slightly pulled out from the table. Despite the fact that sleep is tugging desperately on your weary mind, you can’t find the energy to stand up and go to bed.

What does get you moving, however, is the idea of being able to see your favourite person on base. The thought alone gets you to your feet, trudging slowly towards his room, avoiding the temptation to just lay down on the carpet of the hallway and fall asleep.

———-Captain John Price-———

You don’t bother knocking on his door, instead just twisting the handle and pushing the door open

He’s sat up in bed, book in hand and glasses resting on his nose, bathed in the warm light of his bedside lamp

Price doesn’t bother to look up, only murmuring: “Close the door behind you”

You pad into the room, sliding the door shut behind you and letting it click shut. He doesn’t look up at you at all, eyes fixated on the book he’s holding up. You can’t help but watch him read, seeing his eyes flirt surprisingly fast across the page as you round the other side of the bed.

Soft, warm cotton greets your skin as you pull the sheets back. The mattress sinks under you as you gently climb into bed, still wearing your daytime clothes. This seems to get Price to react, as he turns his head to look at you over the top of his glasses.

“Take off the jeans, you’re not wearing those to bed.”

It’s a simple request, but still hard to do with your complete lack of energy. You do manage to strip the jeans off, electing to kick your socks off along with them. After a few seconds of deliberation, you slip off any other even mildly uncomfortable clothing garment and then climb back into his bed.

He doesn’t stop you this time, instead lifting up the arm closest to you. It’s in invitation, one you gladly take, to slide in and lay your head gently on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, feel him breath, and it’s practically already lulling you to sleep.

“Long day?” He mumbles, turning the page of his book.

You don’t bother answering properly, letting out a small sound and nodding your head instead.

“We best sleep then.” This time he closes his book as he speaks, placing it on the night stand along with his glasses. He shuffles down the mattress, letting you get comfy with your head on his chest before turning the light off.

———Simon “Ghost” Riley———

You don’t even get the chance to knock on the door before he’s opening it, dressed in plaid pyjama pants and a slightly baggy grey shirt

He still has a balaclava on, one with a big hole over his eyes, allowing you to see the concerned look he’s giving your puffy, tired, red eyes

He ushers you into his room, giving you the command to “get into something comfortable” before slipping out of the room and walking off

Simon comes back not too long after he left, having given you a chance to get changed into a pair of his pyjama shorts and a hoodie. It’s warm and smells both of him and of laundry detergent.

When he comes back, he has a plate in one hand a a plastic water bottle tucked under his arm. Half of an apple - cut into slices - and a piece of buttered toast are on the plate.

“You need to eat,” he grumbles, pushing the door shut and twisting the knob as it slips into place.

He guides you to sit on his bed, holding the plate in front of you, prompting you to take it. Once you do, he does the same with the bottle - after cracking the seal for you.

You take a bite of the toast, realising he’s put honey on it. Not too much, but just enough for it to taste sweet.

Ghost sits next to you as you eat, hand on your knee, thumb swiping back and forth across your skin. It’s an action that has you leaning into him by the time you’ve finished eating. He takes the plate from you, prompting you to have a drink before placing the bottle on the floor next to the plate.

“You look like you need sleep,” he whispers, guiding you to lay in his bed, facing the wall.

It’s not long before he’s slipping in behind you, having put on some rain noises to play in the background. Wrapping his arm around your waist, Ghost pulls your back to his chest a bf tucks your head under his chin.

——-John “Soap” MacTavish-——

You have to knock a few times before he answers, having been dead asleep

Both his eyes and his posture are droopy, showing you just how hard he’s finding it to drag himself out of bed for you

It doesn’t stop him from smiling when he sees you though, or from pulling you into his room and kicking the door shut as gently as he can

Soap doesn’t say much if anything as he drags you over to his bed in the near total darkness of his room. He guides you to the bed, helping you shuffle into it just before he does.

You don’t mind the lack of words or light, actually finding it quite nice on your tired senses. It gives you a break after the day you’ve had.

Soap pulls you against his chest, practically laying you on top of him as he wraps his arms around you. It’s still for a moment emigre he pulls you up slightly, just enough to start placing kisses against the top of your head.

He keeps doing this, placing soft, rhythmic kisses into your hair. One hand comes to rest on the small of your back while the other moves up to mess with your hair. Specifically, the fuzz at the nape of your neck. He teases it slightly, tugging as gently as possible, rubbing it between his fingers.

You take a moment to intertwine your legs with his. He moves with you, only moving so as to prevent you from having to move him.

You stay like that for a long time, wrapped up in his arms, listening to his heartbeat and his breathing. It’s safe and warm, and you feel tired.

———————König———————

He opens the door after exactly one knock, almost like he’s waiting for you, to scared to tell you he knows you’re there before you tell him

He reaches out, scooping you up almost immediately and pushing the door shut, holding you against his big, warm body

No time is wanted before he’s speaking loving words into your ear, proving himself up against the headboard and wrapping a blanket around you

König holds you close as soon as he’s able to get his hands on you, bringing you up to wrap your legs round his waist. It’s slightly I comfortable with how big he is, but his warm hands on your thighs more than make up for it.

He slips into his bed, back pressed against the back board, pulling a pillow up behind him to his spine isn’t pressing directly into the wood.

“Oh Mein kleiner schatz, you look exhausted,” he mumbles, petting your hair and back as he wraps a blanket around you.

You can’t help but nozzle into his chest slightly, relishing in his warm hand messing with your hair. His other hand is drawing patterns into your skin over the denim of your jeans.

“How about we take these off and get you comfortable?” He whispers into your ear, hugging you close for a second before helping you stand up. He’s insistent in helping you change, only turning his back when you strip off your undergarments in a favour of one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers.

As soon as you’re more comfortable, he’s pulling you back into the bed - back into his lap - to swaddle you in a blanket again. He’s pressing you against his chest as soon as possible, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“It’s ok, mein maus, you Can sleep now.” Is the last thing you hear before you fully relax into your giants chest.

This is my actual dream written down. Hehe. 😏

their reaction to you wearing a flavoured lipstick

task force 141 x reader headcanons

synopsis: headcanons of how would they react when the reader wears a flavoured lipstick/lip gloss/lip balm

notes: can you tell who is my favourite?

comments and reblogs are always appreciated🙈

warnings: mentions of smoking, occasional swearing, tooth-rotting fluff

find it on a03 masterlist

Captain 'John' Price - chocolate and red velvet

He may be slightly old-fashioned and love it when you wear red lipstick as he considers it a classy, but bold choice of colour

He is aware that you own more than one red lipstick, yet he secretly cannot differentiate one shade from another. Not that he'll ever let you know

That is until one day you visit him at work. He won't let it show, but he becomes jealous the second you walk in the base, your lips painted in a rich, velvety crimson. He cannot take his eyes off you, hypnotized by the captivating movement of your lips as you speak to him, telling him about your day and what you thought you should have for dinner.

John does not miss the hungry looks that are thrown across your way. He is quick to snake his hand around your waist and usher you to his office, where he could be the only one relishing in the allure the red lipstick cast over you-

"John, you're not really listening, are you?" your playful tone snaps him out of his reverie, a sheepish look plastered on his face.

"Love, did I ever tell you how much red lipstick suits you?"

"Only twice per day and more than ten times per night…" you roll your eyes at his antics, cupping his cheeks in your hands and planting a kiss at the corner of his lips, letting out a small giggle as his stubble tickled your lips.

"Well, I am headed home to get started on that dinner you didn't pay attention to!" you keep teasing him, amused by his dazzled expression. Little did you know, you had him wrapped around your finger.

"A…Alright, drive safe! I'll be there as soon as I finish this paperwork!"

Only he spends the next hour daydreaming about your red lips and the tender way they made contact with his skin, the phantom touch still lingering on the corner of his lips. Unconsciously, he traces his tongue over the place, freezing when he feels a mild flavour of chocolate.

He checks it once again, partially ashamed of the childish gesture. If any of his teammates caught him at that moment, they wouldn't let him live it down. But the subtle taste is there, sweet yet distant, almost as if it was teasing him.

The paperwork's long forgotten before he realizes it must be your lipstick. You might have told him that you found a new flavoured collection, but he had been too busy staring at your giddy figure to pay attention.

So he becomes a man with a plan and does not delay heading home anymore. The drive there seems endless, but it's all worth it the moment he opens the door and sees you standing by the kitchen counter, wearing the apron he gave you for Christmas

One second he's by the door, the next he's smashing his lips against yours, a small sigh of pleasure leaving him as he relishes in the now-intense aroma of chocolate.

"Warn an old man next time, will ya?"

From that day on, he starts calling you "chocolate". The pet name raises a few eyebrows here and there, but none of you are bothered by it. Not when you could tease him about his newly-found sweet tooth and he could lose himself in your delicate kisses.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley - strawberries and cigarettes

There are times when he becomes a heavy smoker, sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment and burning through a pack in one day while his mind is mulling over the previous or the next mission

In times like those, he has nothing against your presence, secretly enjoying when you lay his head atop his shoulder and hug him from behind, but he always refuses to kiss you afterwards, arguing that the acrid taste of cigarettes would gross you out

It definitely doesn't- it is an integral part of him that you'd come to accept and love- and now you couldn't live without it

Until one evening, you opt to sit across him, leaning your hands on the balcony railing, while your eyes wander over the city lights. Over the course of your relationship with Simon, you had grown used to his long bouts of silence, becoming accustomed to all of his telltale signs: his left eyebrow would twitch when he doesn't like something, his right foot would continuously tap against the ground when he is distressed.

Three cigarettes in, and his foot is reenacting Radetzky's March. He is utterly unaware of the amused glances you steal at him

"Something the matter, love?" you ask him in a sweet tone, trying to pull off your most innocent face.

"'s nothing", he begins hesitantly, his voice rough from not using it. "…just a little cold, I guess"

You have to turn your head away from him and back to the city, a satisfied smirk spreading on your face. Simon might have been the deadliest operator the Special Forces have had in a long time, but deep down he was also a touch-starved man who found solace and peace in your arms

When the foot tapping does not stop, you struggle to school your face into a neutral expression and turn towards him, your eyes melting at the sight of his dishevelled blonde hair and furrowed brow. He sheepishly looks up in your direction, a silent plea dancing in his chocolate eyes.

You stand and approach him slowly, stopping only when your faces are inches apart. His half-burnt cigarette is forgotten in the ashtray, the remnants of smoke in his breath fanning over your face.

His eyes hold a hundred unanswered questions: did he do something to upset you, did you grow sick of him, can he do anything to get you back; but they are all silenced when you lean in further, placing a gentle and intimate kiss on his lips

The unexpected gesture sends shivers of pleasure down his spine and he has to take a moment before cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing you back, the way you deserve to be kissed

You chuckle in his mouth before pecking both his eyes and forehead and returning to your original position, your head resting in the crook of his neck as your arms engulf him in a warm hug

He opens his mouth to scold you for kissing him when he is smoking. In his mind, it is almost like he is tainting your presence with the stale smell of smoked cigarettes. But as the words form on his lips, he hesitates, his mind struggling to acknowledge the foreign taste on his tongue

He turns to look at you with a confused look on his face. It was October so there could be no strawberries at the market and the freezer was empty as you had eaten all ice cream when you were on your period-

So why did he taste strawberries on your kiss?

"I may have found a lip gloss from high school", you eventually break the silence, blowing a huff of strawberry-scented air in his direction. "One I bought and swore to keep untouched until I found someone worth using it for!"

His thunderous laugh has you opening your mouth in shock. You could count on your fingers the number of times he'd laugh openly and without reserves

"Bloody hell, darling. You'll get me killed before smoking does! That thing must have been expired for years now!"

You shake your head in disbelief, faintly blushing at his words. You know he is teasing you, but that does not stop you from taking revenge as you start to plant messy pecks and kisses on his neck and cheeks. You eventually stop when your lips are once again inches apart from his, your breaths slowly mingling into a shared one

"Then I guess we are going down together"

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish - cherries and chapped lips

It all begins one cold morning when he leans in to kiss you goodbye before leaving for work

"Hold on! Johnny, you've got to do something about your chapped lips! You know what, let me get you a lip balm!"

He is quick to place a hand on your shoulder to stop you. His eyebrows are raised in disbelief and he has to do a double-take before words tumble out of his mouth

"Ain't no way I'm using such a thing, bonnie! Lip balms and such are made for wee lasses like you, not for demolition experts like me!"

You roll your eyes at his badly constructed argument and give him an unimpressed look when an idea pops into your mind.

"You stay right here, I'll be back in a jiffy!"

"What even is a jiffy?"

But you don't bother to answer as you head towards the bedroom, looking for the cherry-flavoured lip balm you bought specifically for the cold season. With precise movements, you apply a thick layer on your lips, smacking your lips to check if the cherry flavour is strong enough to linger. It fortunately is.

So you hurry into the hallway where Soap's waiting for you, hands on his hips as he angles his head in your direction. If he notices that your lips have just got shinier, he doesn't mention it

Instead, he leans in to properly kiss you goodbye this time, eyes comically widening when you deepen the kiss and make it last longer than usually

A small chuckle leaves his lips as you cup his cheeks in your hand and place a small kiss on the top of his nose

"How about we continue this when I come home?", he smiles at the ticklish sensation of your lips against his skin, the constant stinging of his own being forgotten for the moment

"Is that a promise, Sergeant?"

He has a hard time leaving home that day, the drive to the base being plagued by thoughts of you and how much you care for him. His lips have been chapped ever since spending the last two weeks on a mission that required him to be on constant watches in freezing temperatures. He eventually got used to it, the cracks and fissures becoming familiar from the countless times he dragged his tongue over lips, in a hopeless attempt to soothe the pain radiating from them

He does not realise that he is currently doing the same thing, his brain temporarily freezing as it detects a new, yet familiar aroma

Why do his lips taste like cherries?

He remains in the car, long after he's parked, his mind deep in thought as he runs his tongue over his lips once more, partially scared that he'll make the mysterious taste go away if he's too insistent. He does not see Ghost approaching his car from the back and actually flinches when he hears someone pounding on the window.

"D'you lock yourself in here, Johnny? The briefing's about to start in five and you haven't even geared up yet!"

"Bloody hell, you should really do something about your lips- they look like cracked desert earth or something…"

"Did not take you for a poet, L.T."

"Never said I was."

He is in the middle of the briefing when he figures out the source of the mystery taste. It all starts to make sense - the quick detour you had to take, the passionate kiss. He has to give it to you - you could do anything you put your mind to.

Because, besides the compelling taste, the chapstick you must have used started to have a soothing effect on his lips, the stinging becoming more bearable with every passing moment

He spends the rest of the day struggling to make the cherry flavour last longer, but it eventually fades out after he's forced to drink water. A small pout etches itself into his face and he starts to regret not listening to you.

The moment he comes home, he's in the bedroom, unscrewing the cap of every lip balm and smelling it before trying to place it back exactly as it was

You silently linger in the doorway, an amused smile creeping across your face as your fingers shift with the cherry-flavoured lip balm. Soap is so distracted by his covert operations task that he does not hear you trying to contain your chuckles.

"I believe you are looking for this?"

He is quick to snatch the small tube from your hands before bringing it closer to his nose and drawing a deep breath in. You shake your head in exasperation, a loud laugh escaping your lips as he clumsily tries to rub the chapstick across his lips.

"Love, you're doing it wrong! You might break it if you apply that much pressure!"

"Here, let me help you!"

Ends up insisting you order a batch just for him.

In just days, his lips go from cracked and fissured to soft and plump, perfect for the customary morning kiss

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - vanilla and stained teeth

Combat training is fun and games until you are paired up with someone like Ghost, Soap, or Gaz and get your ass handed to you

Lucky you, today Gaz is the person who slams your back on the hard mattress and pins your hands above your head, interlocking your feet with his

Your mind replays the steamy events of last night and you can't help but give him a suggestive smirk which is quickly followed by a toothy grin upon seeing the blush that spreads on his face

He shakes his head in disbelief, not letting go of your arms or feet. Instead, he leans forward, cocks his head and openly stares at you

"Darling, you've got lipstick on your teeth!"

You comically widen your eyes and try to bring your hands to your mouth, struggling to escape his firm grip, but to no avail.

"'m n't s'ppos'd to we'r lipstick 't w'rk", you try to mumble with your mouth closed while your tongue is running over your teeth, looking for any traces of lipstick.

"Ok, has it gone now?", you open your mouth and practically bar your teeth at him, frowning at his unreadable expression. "Gaz- you're scaring m-"

Before you finish your sentence, he smashes his lips against yours and it takes all you have not to whimper when you feel his tongue repeatedly swiping over your teeth

Once he breaks up the kiss, he makes a show of checking you up, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lips

"Yeah, I think I got it all…"

You roll your eyes at the shit-eating grin he's sporting as he runs his tongue over his lips and freezes, his jaw going slack

"Why am I tasting vanilla? Are you tasting vanilla?"

You try to give him an answer, but before being able to say a word, his lips are back on yours and he is kissing you hard and long, his hold remaining as firm as before

"Alright, lovebirds - go get a room before I cite you for public indecency!"

Upon hearing Captain Price, your combat instincts kick back in and you manage to push Gaz off of you, switching position, so that you are atop him, pinning him to the ground

"Sorry, Captain! We'll go back to training!", you call out to him, offering him an apologetic smile which he accepts with a subtle nod.

"Next time you wear that lipstick, let a man know!"

"It screams you need someone to kiss it better"

#Crying

thunder (nsfw, mdni)

OR: soft morning sex w simon the morning of his deployment :(

You woke up to a hand stroking your back, lovingly, and somehow you could tell he'd been awake for hours already. You hated that you'd woken up. If only you could stay with him, in warm sheets and sunkissed pillowcases forever. If only he wasn't mere hours away from fighting for his life.

"Mornin, love." His voice is gruff from sleep. You look up from his chest to meet his eyes. He looked at you like he mourned you, like he dreadfully pitied your sadness.

It scared him how much you loved him, because it gave him something to live for.

"Don't go, Si."

He sighs, heavy, his chest moving your body as it heaved. You have this conversation every time- every fucking time, and your heart hurts knowing it can only end with one word.

"Can't."

"I know."

He rubs his hand against your back, like he's trying to soothe a child. Your breath is getting caught in your chest, and your head is thick in water, your eyes sting like they've been rolled in salt but you're not going to cry- you're not going to cry. You can't do that to him.

You trace the scratches you left on his chest lastnight with your nails. Simon takes your hand in his, almost examining it.

"Your polish is chipping, love. Get 'em redone while I'm gone, yeah? On me. So you can scratch me up good when I'm back."

You force a small smile. He always insists on paying for everything while he's on deployment. Says it reminds him why he's fighting.

"I'd like that."

You peer over to the alarm clock. 7:30am. He had to leave at 9.

Simon sees the look on your face.

"Baby-"

But it's too late, a tear has already fallen down your face. And then another, and another.

"C'mere."

He sits you up, holding you tight in his arms, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

"It's okay, baby, I'll be back soon, okay?"

You sniffle, pulling away to look at his face. You're going to miss that face. Scarred and worn, soft and loving.

You kiss him, softly at first, like you're timid. But then you're kissing him, desperate and hot, salty tears on your lips. He pushes you down underneath him, gently, his hand cushioning your head. His hands glide up your bare thighs and waist, underneath his shirt.

He doesn't have much on himself- just his boxers.

He slides his hand onto your cunt, his fingers rubbing between your folds. You tug at his hair in your hands, telling him you want more.

"Sh, it's alright, love."

He's barely touched you and you're already shaking. You both know this is the last time you'll feel each other for months.

Even Simon, large and strong, trembles as he slips his finger into you. He's almost wincing at your little moans, your breathy little whines, because it fucking hurts missing you before he's even gone yet.

He curls his fingers inside of you, softly, because he's not fucking you. He fucked you last night, the night before that, the night before that. He left you hazy and vibrating, fucked out, cum splattered everywhere, marks on every inch of your innocent skin.

But this, this was something different.

You dig your nails into his back, harder than usual because you want them to last.

"God, Si, please,"

It's like you're begging him to stay.

You whine when he takes his fingers out, your cunt pulsing around nothing.

"I know love, I know."

He feeds his dick into you, slowly, and you're grabbing at the sheets, his shoulders, his back- everything. He fills you so fucking good.

"God, damn." He grunts as he thrusts into you, his head leaning back. Your back arches into him, rays of warm sunlight covering your body in little orange lines as it filters in through the blinds.

"Si, Si, fuck-"

God he knows how to fuck. Knows how to make you cum faster than you do.

His dick brushes your spongy cervix with every time he slams into you. Fucking heaven. Your tight walls on his cock, like velvet around him.

"This pussys all mine baby, all mine," He grunts, bracing himself above you. His breath is hot on your neck.

"All yours, Si, fuck,"

He slams into you harder, his nose brushing against yours.

"'M gonna cum, Simon,"

You whine, scratching his scalp with your nails, fisting locks of hair.

"Cum on my cock, sweetie, please."

You cum on him with a shudder, eyes screwing shut and your head lolling back. He cums at the way you shake on his dick, the way your little body convulses in pleasure like it doesn't know what to do with itself.

God, you're tired.

He fucks you through your orgasm before gently pulling out, holding your hips with his large hands.

Your eyes are still shut, your cunt aching.

You feel him tuck a blanket over you, another pillow sliding under to support your neck.

"Just go to sleep, baby, shh." He strokes your cheek with his thumb. You half-open your eyes to look at him, sadly.

He's crouched next to the bed, looking at you adoringly.

"I'll be gone when you wake up," His voice is breaking, "But only for a little, okay?"

You grab his hand,

"Please come back."

He runs a finger over your knuckles before kissing them.

"I will, love." His accent is thick next to you.

Neither one of you want to move. But he has a half hour to shower and go.

"I love you, Simon Riley." You whisper, shutting your eyes and sighing with the knowledge this is the last time he'll hear those words next to him for awhile.

"I love you too, baby. Just go to sleep."

He presses a kiss to your forehead before you hear him walk away.

Fuck.

A/N: 🥺🥺🥺 first time writing for our boy Simon bc i also want him primally even tho König is my main piece of ass. Hope y'all enjoyed

The Good I'll Do (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Based off the song 'The Good I'll Do' by Zach Bryan because I love this song and it reminds me of Ghost. Don't care if you don't like country, you do now. :)

Warnings: GN!reader but one mention of reader wearing a sundress, BRIEF mentions of alcohol and weed (one sentence)

If there is anything I didn't catch just let me know!

Word count: 815 (I don't write much anymore so I'm rusty, sorry)

Simon.

A monster of a man, tough and from the military, what could he possibly do for you? What good could a man so broken and ridden with scars from his past do to someone like you?

Nothing, he can't love someone like you, all sweet and life put together. He shouldn't love someone like you. Someone who's never had to picture the warzone, dealt with the blistering heat of the desserts and the freezing cold that seeps into your bones in the tundras. Someone who never had to deal with the death of their comrades. People around them. People you'd come to call friends. No, nothing good could come from the two of you.

The good he'd do.

But oh the good he'd do. The things he would do for you. To see your eyes light up with the reflection of a sparkler in hand again. To just be in your presence again in that field a few miles from home. The late hour of the night, the smell of the grass and the sound of your voice when you say you feel you'll never die. That the two of you will never die.

How he'd drop to his knees if you'd just grab him by the hands, say you're proud. Say you're proud of him, acknowledge him in all his worth. Not for the pristine soldier he'd been moulded to be, no but for the man underneath. The broken man within it all, not Ghost, Simon. The man who's eyes gaze at you in a way he'd never think possible.

Eyes that follow you as you stumble up the concrete, blue jeans fallen and left in the driveway. Eyes that watch your every move, scarred lips that pull into a smile as you make your way inside walking sideways, not a care in the world. Watching as the wine effects you, always bringing out your beauty and kind ways.

Hands that reach out, just out of reach incase you trip. Hands that have seen so much hurt and pain simply there if you need and a voice, low and gruff that answers when you ask if he's staying.

"I'm sleeping on the floor."

Despite your want, you don't tell him that you need him. Don't tell him what you're feeling, knowing you should let him know he's more than just an evening. No you stay silent, choosing to busy yourself with a cigarette in the morning, dancing to the music of the radio and he'll watch. The way your movements flow, arms up in the air and head bobbing. Dancing like gods moved in you before.

For you, the good he'd do.

The good he'd do to see you like this again, for himself. Dancing without a care in the world, in your own element. The good he'd do to make this sight something he can see every morning, a sight for just him. He'd reinvent himself, become a new man all for you. Someone who isn't so battered with the weight of the past, someone good for you. Someone who maybe isn't him.

But that's not what he wants, that's not what you want. He wants you to see him for him. Wants you to see the man who's heart beats in tune with yours, who breaths for you, who would do anything for you.

And you see him. You see that man, you see Simon. Looking into his eyes, unspoken words passed between you. You can see the way he opens himself up for you, you see he doesn't want to hide around you. The way he's been here the whole time, been waiting all damn night, just for you.

Just for you, only for you his fingertips lift your sundress, to undress. Finally being able to touch you the way he only hoped he could, calloused fingertips running along the plush of your thighs. Nails on your skin turning white, touches he gives with a gentleness he had only dreamed of being able to give. Give to you, show to you, show to himself to know he's not what he was built to be. That he doesn't have to be that violent man, not around you, not anymore.

He'd go anywhere for you, anywhere with you. Out to Austin to get high, getting drunk in Tennessee? Oh, he'll be there. He'd go anywhere, doesn't matter to him, as long as he's with you. And when he leaves, he knows those downtown boys talk shit. "What is a man like him doing with such a person like you?" 'He's only with them to take 'em back to his place." "He's got no chance." But Simon doesn't care, he doesn't care because he's with you.

Because for you, he'd do anything.

For you he'll do everything. He only wants to do good, to do good for you.

And the good he'll do.

Photo booth (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN! reader)

Warnings: none (let me know if there is any!)

Word count: 1079

There weren't many times when Simon had a day off, but when he did, you better know he'd be spending every moment with his partner. 

Back for a few days after a long mission? Reports are finished in record time and left on Price's desk.

A few hours between long meetings? He's calling you or sending a text, just wanting a moment of peace and to hear your voice before he'll inevitably have to deal with Soap's shenanigans.

Point being any time away from work he has, you're the first thing on his mind, and he will do anything to get that little bit of recharge time with the one person who he feels he can truly relax with.

So when the 141 gets back from a long, few-month mission on the other side of the globe, as soon as humanly possible, Simon's heading home to be with you. 

The first few days are just spent curled up together. Lazy mornings turning into lazy afternoons with lingering touches and tender kisses. Cooking together in the warmth of your shared kitchen, his big arms wrapped around your waist as his chin rests on the top of your head. Warm meals and lots of storytelling, more so coming from your end, but who wouldn't want to know about how the neighbours got into another fight and might be ending in divorce this time?

After those initial days just gently getting back into the calm civilian life, the two of you are more than happy to adventure out for the day. Treating yourselves to a nice cup of tea and a fresh pastry from a rather fancy cafe in the heart of town and a calm walk by river, hand in hand, the two of you find yourselves in a little corner store as the clouds roll over and little drops start to fall.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Bloody hell love, a little rain won't hurt ya," Simon chuckles as you pull him into a nearby corner store as the droplets of rain start to gain momentum, falling in a more rapid succession.

"Yes, but I did my hair today, and I don't want it to be ruined," you answer with a playful roll of your eyes. The store is much more pleasant than the rain, with a warm glow to the lights and, most importantly, nice and dry. 

Deciding to busy yourselves while the rain rolls over, the two of you go up and down the few isles, pointing out little snacks you want to try or ones you have tried and definitely didn't like. Coming to the end of one of the isles you spot an old photo booth pushed into the corner and excitedly pull on Simon's arm.

"Si, look! Do you think it works?" The whole thing looks like it hasn't been used in a long while, but, taking your chances, you pull the curtain open and the display lights up. 

"Suppose it does, come 'ere," a large hand moves to hold your waist as you're pulled onto Simon's lap, the two of you making a tight fit in the small booth.

With an excited squeal you press a few buttons, pulling a few pound coins from your pocket and inserting them into the machine, a quick preview of the photo format appearing on the screen. Before the two of you can plan what your poses will be, the first timer starts counting down.

""Right, just a smile then?" He says, guiding one of your arms over his shoulders as you lean your head closer, big smile pulling at your lips and a hint of a curl on the Brits. The flash clicks and the photo shows before another timer starts counting down.

"Now a silly one!" You say, holding up bunny ears behind his head as you stick your tongue out, Simon doing quite the similar pose. The timer stops and another flash goes off, both your eyes drawn to the preview of the photo. For a burly military man Simon sure does look a bit silly with the tip of his tongue poking out and your fingers as bunny ears behind him, contrasting his usual hard and gruff facade he put son for the average individual.

"Hey, you copied my idea," A playful shove is given to his shoulder as you look at the photo, chuckles leaving the both of you. "Can't help if it's a good idea," Simons voice grumbles though the smile on his scared lips tells you how happy you make him as he pokes a finger in your ribs, making you laugh.

"Simon!" You giggle, half heartedly pulling away from him, "That tickles!" The Brit doesn't stop his teasing and you try to pull away again that you almost fall off his lap, arms flailing slightly but a hand firmly on your waist ensures you don't go anywhere. In the struggle the timer for the third photo finishes and the flash goes off just as you feel like you're tipping.

As the two of you calm your giggles you see there's only one photo left and you turn to look at Simon, exaggerated disappointment on your face. "Look you ruined the photo," you tease as you point to the screen.

"Wouldn't have been ruined if ya were more original," He chuckles, fingers lightly pinching your thigh as he gazes at you with those big brown eyes. "I'm plenty original, thank you"

The timer counting down for the fourth and final picture snaps you both back as you stumble to figure out one last pose.

"What do you we do for this one?" You ask out loud as you try your hardest to think of a cute pose.

Without more than a little grumble of a 'Come 'ere' Simons free hand reaches up and gently wraps around your neck, pointer finger helping guide your face to his as your lips meet his. All thoughts are almost completely disregarded as you lean into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as his tongue traces the seam of your lips. Just as you begin to part your lips the flash goes off and the machine begins to print the series of photos.

""ere you go, love," Simon grumbles as his hand leaves your warm skin to grab the photos, handing them to you. Hand on your thigh giving you a gently pat before guiding you off his lap and out of the photo booth, grin on his lips the whole time.

bouncing on simon's fat cock that nestled deep into your slimy, squelching cunt, you're wearing his pajama shirt with a cracked, frayed skull print on the dark fabric that lifts up with every slap of your supple ass against his muscular, lightly hairy thighs.

shirt flutters up every time you plunk down on his meaty shaft with a loud squelch of your gooey pussy, throbbing tip oozing pearly precum against your sleek walls as simon rolls back his head with noisy sighs and growling moans, beefy hands pawing at your pretty body through the black fabric.

you don't let him get under the shirt to squeeze and stroke your naked skin, slide up to tease your perky nipples, you only lean closer to cover his neck with sharp bites and hot kisses, watching the fair skin turn burning red under your soft lips.

your delicate fingers crawl between your own legs, touching the slick of juices that smear the inside of your willowy thighs, finding the throbbing nub of your engorged clit, flicking the puffy flesh and making the walls of your cunt pulse and clench, which pulls chocked, whiny moan out of simon's thin lips

— “bloody hell, g-god — i'm close, s-sweetheart, slow the heck down!„ yet you don't hear his plea, all the sounds in your ears are incoherent buzz as you arch your back like a cat, white flash of pleasure rolls through your body, making your gooey cunt clamp on simon's fat cock, spurting with your sweet, creamy cum.

it triggers his own orgasm, causing simon to twitch as his dark eyes roll back back into his skull, calloused hands roughly grip the curve of your waist, pinning you in place, letting his cock press into your spongy spot and jerk with spurting ropes of his thick load.

simon's ragged gasps lost against the background of your sweet, slurred mewls of — “s-si! fuckfuckfuck, feels good!„ as he fills you with jerking hips and shallow pumps till your combined cum leaks from your creamed pussy back towards his hairy pelvis.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

salvatore (nsfw, mdni)

Ghost taking his mask off during sex for the first time.

He doesn't even mean to- but with the way you’re riding him like that, the slap of your ass against his strong hips bucking up into you-

he can't stop his hand from pulling off his hot balaclava, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. you're so fucking tight around him- your shaking legs sending pulses up his body.

"Si-Simon," Your mouth falls agape at the sight of the man before you, his blue eyes rolled back, lips parted as he watches you bounce up and down on his dick.

His hands grab the fat of your hips, red hand prints forming underneath them.

"Fuck luv, 'jus like that,"

He bucks his hips up into you before flipping you on your back.

"Simon-"

He snaps his hips into you hard, the tip of his dick pushing into your cervix, gummy walls pulsing around him like fucking heaven.

"Fucken 'ell,"

His eyes fall to the bulge in your tummy, his jaw going slack.

Your pussy stretched to its brim around his thick cock- you were so good for him, almost splittin yourself in two.

"Simon, wanna cum," You whine, blinking back the tears in your eyes.

"I know luv, me too,"

You scratch at his back with your nails, leaving pretty red lines for him to admire the next morning.

He snaps into you harder, placing a warm hand over the bulge in your tummy, pushing into it.

God, he was pretty.

You came around his cock shakily, shuddering into him. You love this feeling, love being stuffed full of his girthy dick.

You pull the hair at the nape of his neck and that's all it takes for him to cum inside of you.

Moments later you're sprawled over his bare chest with his arm thrown around you. You're playing with the hem of his discarded balaclava with your fingers. His hand strokes your arm lovingly.

"Handsome," You murmur, eyes flicking up to the curve of his jaw.

...

FAE YOU'VE OFFICIALLY LOST ME I'VE GONE FERAL. @ghostangel YOU COOKED AND I'M AFRAID I ATE IT.

your new neighbor has taken a liking to you

simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader

tags/warnings: mdni, infidelity (ghost’s marriage sucks), size kink, breeding , unprotected sex, degradation/dumbification, squirting, corruption kink if you squint

Simon is in a loveless marriage.

It’s sad—he knows that. Ever since he got back from deployment, things with his wife weren’t the same. She would stay at work late, come home smelling of someone else’s cologne, trying to hide her swollen lips.

Military service took a toll on him. The torture, the abuse, the loss of life—sometimes it was too much for him to bear. His wife didn’t understand, and he certainly couldn’t talk to her about it. She was too busy being fucked by other men to speak to him anyway. So, he kept his trauma close to his chest.

Then he met you.

You moved in next to him while he was away. When he left for service, the house was empty—vines withering up the creaky wood, yard overgrown and barren. As soon as he drove into his front yard, he knew that changed.

The house was fixed up, vines trimmed. A new coat of paint covered the old wood and made it look new. A hammock hung between two large trees in the yard. And one other thing was different.

Flowers. They were everywhere in your yard. Rose bushes, lavender, tulips, sunflowers—the yard was a rainbow of color. Simon could smell them from his front yard when he went outside to smoke or to get away from the confines of his house.

It wasn’t until he was smoking one afternoon that he saw you. Fresh-faced and young, gloved hands trimming back your rose bushes. It took him a while to say hi, but he did eventually. You were everything his wife wasn’t—kind, bubbly, thoughtful…innocent.

He found himself in your front yard more than he was at home, offering to help you trim your flowers or plant new ones. He was always filling the heavy watering can and watering for you—“I got all this muscle, sweetheart, let me use it for somethin’.”

Simon wasn’t sure when he began spilling his trauma, but one day, he sat on your couch with a glass of lemonade telling you about the war. The torture, the loss of his military brethren—everything. He told you about his past and his present, about his failing marriage; and most importantly, that he trusted you.

The first intimate actions were small. A brush of a hand, a squeeze of a thigh. Lips brushed against an ear. Small actions that made your tummy clench and his face grow hot. Eventually, it led to something more. Soft kisses on tender lips, hands running over scarred skin and muscle, strong arms wrapped around you.

And tonight, you kissed him with a hunger he couldn’t ignore anymore. Your tongue swiped so slowly along his that his knees buckled and his heart slammed against his chest. His fingers gripped your ass so tightly, you thought it would bruise, but it sent heat to your core all the same.

That’s how you find yourself now—on your back in your bed, sheets sprawled around you and Simon eating you like a man starved. His tongue flicks so deliciously against your clit that it makes your toes curl and your grip tighten in his hair.

“Simon,” you whine, hips bucking as he sucks hard on the sensitive nerves. His response is a grunt, his middle and ring finger gathering your juices and teasing your tight entrance.

Your breath stills when he pushes his two thick fingers inside of your pussy, back arching and hips drawing back.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Simon mutters against your clit, tugging your hips down with his other hand and curling his fingers inside of your wanting cunt.

All you can do is whine as his fingers scissor and stretch your squelching pussy, juices dripping down to your ass. His tongue rubs circles around your clit like he’s painting a fucking picture, and you can’t help but moan out at the pleasure. His fingers hit that spongy spot that sends an electric jolt to your toes, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the pleasure.

“S-Simon, I can’t—I’m gonna—” You can’t even finish your sentence, your voice breaking off in a moan as he speeds up.

And then you’re coming, babbling nonsense and his name like a prayer as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. You don’t even comprehend that you squirt all over his hand and mouth, or that he’s rutting his hips against the bed and moaning into your cunt as he tastes you.

Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, his hands running up to your waist. Your eyes flutter open—when did they shut?—and you look up at him staring down at you, his lips curled into a smirk.

“Such a nasty fucking girl,” he murmurs as he leans down, teeth grazing across your neck. “Squirting for me like that. Gonna do that on my cock, too, sweetheart?”

All you can do is moan in response, and Simon chuckles before pulling back and tugging down his boxers. Your eyes widen as you take in his fat cock—thick and veiny and leaking precum. He holds eye contact with you as he moves to hover over you, rubbing his tip along your soaked folds.

You squirm and whine, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t think it’s gonna fit.”

Simon grins, positioning his tip against your throbbing hole. “Gonna make it fit.”

Your lips part as he slowly slides his fat cock inside you, stretching you out in such a painfully delicious way that you almost forget to breathe. You can feel every vein in his cock, and Simon lets out a guttural groan when he sheathes himself fully inside you.

“Relax, doll. Squeezing me so fuckin’ tight and I haven’t even moved.” His voice is strained, and he lets out a breath as you try to relax.

His hand moves to your throat, squeezing slightly as he begins to move. Slow at first—painfully slow. You hold eye contact with him as he slowly ruts his hips against yours, his lips parted as breathy groans slip past. When you start to whimper and moan, he speeds up, his pace becoming almost animalistic in nature.

The tip of his fat cock hits a spot that makes you see stars, and you let out a soft cry as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It feels so good, and you drag your nails down his chest because you don’t know what else to do.

“Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” He asks, grip tight on your throat. “You like my cock stretchin’ you out?”

You can’t even answer him, responding with whines and moans, tears sliding down your cheeks from the pleasure. Simon smirks, fucking you faster, and you cry out.

“Didn’t think I’d fuck you dumb, sweetheart. Can’t help it can you? Cock makin’ you stupid?”

You whine out, hiccuping out a moan as his other hand moves to your clit to rub in precise circles. Your eyes glaze over and you’re gone—submitting completely to him as he fucks you with his fat cock.

Your vision goes white as your orgasm hits you unexpectedly, stealing the breath from your lungs as your legs shake. Simon grunts and groans as you come on his cock, throbbing so tightly around him that you almost force him out. He simply fucks you harder, pressing against your cervix as your juices gush out of your cunt and you whine out, hips jolting.

Simon moves his fingers from your clit to your face, wiping your tears away and leaning down to kiss you. The kiss is hot and surprisingly sweet, and when he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Good fuckin’ girl. My girl. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up so good, baby,” he whispers against your lips, his arm hooking through your leg to open you up wider. His hips slap against yours, his breathy moans hitting your skin softly.

“Please, Simon,” you breathe out, voice catching as he fucks into you. “Need it. Please.”

That’s all it takes for Simon to crumble, moaning out curses and your name as his cock throbs inside of you. He gives one, two, three more thrusts before he buries his fat cock inside you, tip against your cervix, and you can feel his hot seed pumping inside of you.

He thrusts lazily for a moment before sliding out of you, pulling you to his chest. Your lips meet in a sweet, lazy kiss, and you feel his cum dripping out of you. Simon’s fingers trace down your back, and he looks at you so delicately, he’s afraid you might break. His hand moves to cup your face, thumb brushing right underneath your eyes. Then he utters four words that make your heart stop.

“I’m getting a divorce.”

—————————————

see this one shot’s counterpart here

Y'all please cage me.

cw: hybrids, dubcon (?), trapping, knotting and things.

dog hybrid simon riley that tries to mount you, it's not his fault, it's his owner who's responsible for bringing a sweet, docile kitten in the house that already has a big dog, he's never showed his affection to any possible animals around, even to his own specie, how he should, but upon meeting you, soft, supple thing with groomed tail and fluffy ears, he remembers he has a cock to stuff and breed.

you expected him to scent you and then forget about you, after all, he's a scary dog, and the man that took you promised that he's lazy and wouldn't even bat an eye at you, but as soon as your feet touched the floor, simon bumped you down on the parquet floor with his whole, heavy weight, pressing his rugged mug between your legs, huffing out a terrifying, pleases groan, his tail wagging left and right.

it's led to you almost clawing his eyes out, hissing and scurrying as far away from him as possible, threatening that you'll slice his face if he'd try it again, defensive little thing, a sight that pulls a lopsided grin to his pale lips, making your fur stand up on your ears and body, forgetting about trying to make up friends, knowing best than talking to this horny mutt.

yet simon plays it off, acts as apologetic as he can, tucking his excited tail between his burly legs, lowers his ears down, almost manages to do these honeyed, puppy eyes when he passes you across the house, getting under your fur, by helping you, giving you his sleeping place while the owner orders a new one for you, even stoles some treats for you from the kitchen.

anything, just to lower your awareness of him, making you warm up to an unruly mutt and feel comfortable with and beside him, pushing his inappropriate behavior to pure curiosity, seeing that he ain't trying to do something like that again, even through there's a sleazy murkiness to his eyes you can't piece together, until your heat doesn't hits you.

you come to him willingly, padding from your bedding to his, where he's all sprawled out, deep asleep with rumbling snores, and your mind to hazy to comprehend what's happening, why it's so hot, why you're all leaky between your furry, supple thighs, plopping beside him with loud, needy purrs, as you rub against his whole body, ass perched out with your pretty, curving spine.

simon knew you'd come, waited for your heat to struck, for you to seek him as your comforter, nuzzle your adorable face with whiny mewls in his thick palm, he's not a patient dog, and he won't torture you by acting like he's asleep, so he rises and tugs you close, pressing you into his bed, making you arch sweet and sharp enough to present your needy, fluttering hole, messy with dripping slick.

he eats your pussy properly, messes his whole maw with your slick and creamy cum, nose pressed in your silken, soaking fur, while he flattens his rough, thick tongue against your puffy folds and bumpy, swollen clit, slurping down on you when he nudges at your slit, licking further to your clenching hole, stuffing you with at least something for a short time, preparing you for his knot.

you welcome his chubby cock properly, your hole tight, yet so slick that simon is able to sheathe himself along your rippling, pulsing walls in couple of squelchy slides, flicking his finger against your throbby, little bud of nerves, looking at the way you purr and meow in pleasure as he stretches you out, filling you so full your soft, little tummy bulges out from his girth.

simon will knock you up, knot your tight pussy nice, making you claw at his wide shoulders while he slobbers over your fluffy, plump tits, rough tongue torturing your perky nipples, suckling wet kisses on your tender body, that would be even more so after he'd make sure you're pregnant with his chubby pups, as you keen his name and plead him to breed you.

ears pressed tight to your head, flicking at each pound of his engorged, fattening cock in your leaking hole, rutting his thickening tip against your cervix, your spongy spot rubbing against his veiny shaft rapidly, making you writhe, turning his wide, muscular back in a mess of bleeding crescent scratches, as your long tail wraps around his leg, brushing against his thumping one, accepting simon's popping knot with pitchy meows and gushy hole.

your pregnancy would be an owners problem by the morning, when he'd stumble across you tucked against simon's solid chest, purring in your peaceful slumber after being sufficiently filled with loads of potent, thick cum, morning air filled with guttural, protective growls and clogging scent of sex, and it's seems like it's wouldn't be easy to make simon stay away from you from now on.

main masterlist. quidelines.

@forsworned Liebling i fear you ate.

If you have the time could you maybe make a pt3? 🥺🔫 (ONLY IF U HAVE THE TIME AND MOTIVATION OFC OFC! 💞)

part one

cw: onlyfans!simon, canon universe, cybersex, solo sex/masturbation, being simon's good girl while he has some downtime, parasocial relationship???

author's note: and let me say this once to be clear, if you don't know how to ask for a part two properly without giving some sort of positive feedback and instead demand it from me you will get a verbal spanking from me and i will embarrass you, i do not care

Your breath catches as you gawk at your phone, rereading the message. The sensation of anxiety pricks at you causing you to perspire under your pits and the temple of your forehead.

The thought of him—TacticalHeat—or Ghost or whatever the hell his name is waiting on the other side, possibly stroking himself at the notion of you joining him on a private call sends a rush of arousal up your spine.

Ping!

TacticalHeat: You still there, lovie?

Oh, fuck. You card your fingers through your hair and let out a heavy exhale. It's awful timing really. Like getting caught with your pants down...literally.

Fingers sticky with lube and your own arousal, you stretch your limbs to open the drawer of your nightstand and pull out a wet wipe to clean off your hands and get a gander at the state of your appearance. It's slightly disheveled, but honestly? In a super sexy bedhead kind of way.

You wipe the corners of your eyes to remove the accumulated smudged mascara from your gruesome work day and let a sharp expire through your nose. Well, if you were going to do this, you'd at least look hot doing it.

You: Yeah, I'm here.

TacticalHeat: So what do you think, lovie...you up for it?

"Fuck!" You exclaim to yourself, not realizing that your dumbass forgot to reply to his original message. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment, tracing circles in the air as you try to unscramble your mind.

You: Now works...what do you have in mind?

The three dots appear almost instantly like he's waiting for your response with the same fiery intensity that has you gripping at your phone.

TacticalHeat: I'll send you a link. I wanna see you, too.

Ghost has invited you to a Zoom meeting.

Your heart pounds rapidly against your ribcage, and you feel the heat sidling to your cheeks. You hadn't expected this to escalate so quickly, to be pushed into the spotlight. And yet, the idea of him watching you is thrilling.

With trembling fingers, you adjust the lighting in your room and the camera on your phone to ensure you're getting the best quality. One last look in the mirror to smooth out your hair, and make sure your top reveals a little cleavage before you tap on the link, muddying your phone screen with oils on your finger.

Twiddling with the tripod that sits by the edge of your bed as the link loads, you clip on your phone and sit back while you wait to get accepted. He wastes no time getting you out of the waiting room and you watch as the screen shifts, and suddenly, there he is. Simon's half-lidded gaze fixates on you, his familiar skull-mask in place, but this time it's different. He's relaxed, clad in a black loose-fitted henley that outlines his taut physique, and he's manspreading in light-wash denim jeans, hands exposed and you're already aching at the sight. It's an intimate setting and the atmosphere shifts when he gets a real gander at you. His gravelly voice sends a frisson up your spine:

"There's my good girl," he purrs, and just like that you're hooked.

There's a moment where your heart drops to your ass, and you let out a little shaky breath before giving him a shy smile. His gaze doesn't waver. It's intense and focused as he drinks in every detail of your appearance. You're half wondering what he thinks of you and half focused on the hoarseness in his voice when he calls you 'good girl'. How the blood rushes to your face and your trepidation tingles on your skin.

"Hi," You finally muster up and you swear his dark eyes light up, or maybe it's the delusion that spikes into your prefrontal cortex. "I'm a bit, um, surprised that you wanted to chat like this."

His mask warps in the corner of where you assume his lips are indicating a smirk. "I like a bit of spontaneity," he says, leaning closer to the camera. "Besides I wanted to see how you would handle this."

You avert your gaze for a moment, feeling hot all over again. He notes how you suck in your bottom and how your dilated eyes flicker all over the screen, a subtle sign that your adrenaline is pumping. He wishes he could hear your heart beating through the screen.

Your fingers delicately trace over your collarbone, "what do you wanna see?" your voice drops to a sultry whisper.

His eyes darken and he takes a slow breath as fixates on you, taking in all your subtle gestures and the silkiness in your dulcet tone.

"Show me how you've missed me," he rasps. "show me what you've been doing while you've waited for me."

Christ, you want to melt into your mattress. You knew it was a playful gesture to create a more intimate atmosphere between you two, even if it wasn't true.

The challenge in his tone exhilarates you with a hint of collywobbles that infest your tummy. With a quick glance at your full-size mirror mounted on your closet door, you begin to tug at the strap of your skimpy top, teasingly revealing enough of your skin to keep him riveted.

And it works.

As you continue, you can hear the jingling of his belt being unbuckled and the sound of his zipper going down.

Your blown eyes are entranced by how he frees himself from the waistband of his briefs and you’re driveling over how the muscles under the porcelain skin of his cock twitches. He tilts his head back, transfixed on how you’re exposing your pebbled bud to him.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly as you squeeze your breasts between your fingers. “Every inch of you looks perfect, lovie.”

You practically fawn over his compliments. He’s praising you, watching you, getting off to you. And that feeling is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You feel liberated and exposed, knowing that he’s eagerly watching you as the lines blur. This feeling consumes you, consumes him, and soon you’re stripping off your panties and he doesn’t even bother to hide the groan that escapes his lips. 

“Look at you, absolutely stunning. Every bit of you…” His tone changes when you part your silken, glistening folds. “Touch yourself for me, lovie.”

It’s a demanding tone. One that sends a frisson up your spinal column and you feel the need to please, but there’s another side of you that awakens. The kind that crawls out when you’re being railroaded by a domineering man. 

“Say please,” You wave your wand around. 

He softly snorts at your attempt at trying to tame him, but he humors you, “Please, lovie. I crave ya.”

And that’s enough to inflate your ego. Your fingers switch on the vibrator and you tease it over your clit, bucking your hips at your sensitive clit. 

There’s a twitch in his eyes when they widen. Like the light in his head switched on. “So you’ve been playing with yourself, have you, pretty girl?” he coos, sitting up a bit more. Oh, you’ve really got his attention now. 

Your heart flutters at the same rate that your pussy does when you realize he takes note of your current over aroused state. “Maybe,” you give him a coquettish grin. 

As you take the initiative and push the boundaries with him, a rumbling growl emits from him. His gaze intensifies as they lock on yours with a mixture of surprise and approval. He loves a good brat.

“Is that so?” he susurrates, his tone oozes with amusement. He likes the way your pretty face glimmers with the excitement to satisfy him. “You wanna take control now, do you?”

He shifts in his seat. “Go on then, lovie.” he gestures to you, and oh how his dick creams at the sight of you shaking your legs on for, gasping at the vibrating sensation of your toy caressing your cunt. You’re really such a site for sore eyes.

“Such a pretty pussy,”he praises with a husky voice that makes your heart race. The saccharine moans that leave your lips as you spasms against the silicone while you instruct him to tug at himself. 

He obliges because how can he not when you’re looking so fucking luscious on the other side of the camera as you winsomely order him to smear the opulent precum that oozes from his angry, swollen tip. A little sob leaves your lips when you see how compliant he is, and how his chest shudders at your words and creamy cries of delight. 

“Just like that,” he encourages, pumping at himself and in an instant the tables turn, and you’re more than willing to let him take control. He pants at the sight of your parted, saliva-lacquered lips and lolled back eyes. “No one else gets to see you like this. Only me.”

And that sentence alone leaves you breathless. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles, through his own labored breaths. The raw emotions in his voice makes it clear how much he’s affected by you, “God, you’re everything I want and more.”

And that does it for you because your orgasm rips through you like a hurricane and you feel your spine involuntarily arch in pleasure, peaked breasts splayed out as your pussy rapidly pulsates on full display for him. They bounce at your ragged breaths and throes of passion and he’s quick to follow, elongating the pleasure of your peak. His velvety, opulent cum spurts out in plentiful, white cords as he bucks his hips and throws his head back. His guttural moans are like music to your ears and you’re quaking at the pure rapture. 

There’s a long moment of silence as you both come down from your highs. A laugh leaves your lips, and a wry grin twitches at his features under his balaclava. You’re no longer dripping nerves. Your smile lights up the room, and his heart swells at the sight of your afterglow. Your confidence shines through and he’s still hard. Not a very common occurrence in the world of Ghost.

Your eyes flicker to his girthy cock and your grin spreads. His eyes follow yours and he chuckles and gently pumps himself, “not every day that happens.”

You cock a brow. “What the inviting me for a cybersex sesh, or the staying hard after cumming part?”

He barks out a hearty laugh, “Both I s’ppose.” he softly plashes. “Really got me goin’ there, lovie.”

And the nickname brings you back to life. Maybe you really were delirious because you can sense that his eyes display a different range of lingering emotions--persisting lust and a genuine admiration. You can’t help but to feel a little victorious as you watch him continue to stroke himself, even after the both of you reached your peak.

“Not everyday I meet someone who can keep up with me,” he rasps. He lets out a breath of satisfaction.

You tilt your head, a coy smile etches into your lips. “Guess I’m just full of surprises,” you reply softly. There’s that sensual confidence seeping into your tone and it shows on your body.

He chuckles. It’s low and alluring and it causes gooseberries to trail up your skin. “That you are, lovie,” he counters, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. His voice makes you feel warm and gooey. “Could get used to this…to you.”

The implication hangs heavy in the air making his interest in you clear and undeniable. Your heart skips a beat as the heat between you simmers again. It’s no longer the deviancy alone that tips him off, it’s the fact that he’s brought out a different side of you.  

“Maybe next time,” your voice is low and tempting as your eyes motion to his still-engorged length. “you’ll let me show you how much more I can handle.”

His smirk widens under his mask, and his hunger for you multiplies. “Count on it.” he replies with the promise of fulfilling that request.

You both share a yearning moment. The spark between you is electrifying and certainly obvious. You decide to make the first move as you sit up to hover your sticky thumb over the end call button, “Good night, Ghost.”

He chews at the end of his cheek and his eyes crinkle signaling that he was smiling wide. “Good night, lovie.”

There’s no doubt in your mind that this won’t be the last time you’ll see each other like this.

taglist: @fallen-angelslove @cinnabeanz @pricesugarwife @daikongirlie @firesgod @marierg

@multifand0midi07 @surenotsorry @forgottensomewhere @teenagellamaangel @nijiru @deliverancesix

@milk-man3000 @russellsimp @madzzz0797 @kittykatgorl @nerd-without-a-cause @mikasakuchiki @haleyaaah

@hiken-no-stark @shellyshellshell @livingoutsidethetardis @jemomgershippingco @kruegerismymalewife

@ki-ssshot @essentialbeats-blog @dmitriene

OKAY DARLING U ATE SO HARD.

cnc w/ghost 👻 (🌽 link)

oh... if you ask simon to try cnc, you are going to get the full experience. the man himself is already a bit intimidating but he's loving to you, but if you want him to treat you roughly he's not gonna hold back.

he would wait for a moment in which you think you are alone and sage at home, undressing so you can get into bed, and when you are in just your underwear that's the moment he's going to sneak on you and you are going to get jumped by this behemoth. he would harshly grab you and manhandle you so he has easy access to your pussy. he just rips off your panties -hope you weren't wearing your favourites- and use your bra to keep your hand secured to your back.

he's got you were he wants, so he's just going to barely push down his pants -because he get off on the fact that he's fully dressed without an inch of skin showing and you are naked- and roughly push that thick dick into you. and oh is he going to be cruel, fucking you raw, hitting the right spots and making you cum again and again. and the cherry on top: a creampie to finish it off.

you messed up when you asked for cnc because he enjoyed that a lot more than he thought he would, so he's just going to 'attacking' you at the most random moments.

HEHEEHEEHEHHEHEHEH THE WAY I READ THIS 20 TIMES.

being simon's riley barracks bunny, belonging only to your lieutenant, mean bastard to everyone, but not you, he can't treat the docile sweetheart that warms his bed poorly, not after he turned you from a proper soldier to just his personal, cum dump.

you naively believe that not a single soul knows about your unstable relationships, that you wear sucked kisses and bite marks on your skin under layers of clothes, speckling your skin from the curve of your neck and down from between your thighs, not to even talk about the leaking, creamy mess in your cotton panties.

but everyone knows, memorized your moans by the way they turn pitchy when simon spreads your dangling legs and presses your knees on either side of your head, dark irises of his eyes blown with pooling hunger, every snap of his wide hips makes the fat girth of his twitching cock slide in your tight pussy with obscene squelch, stretching your snug, pulsing gummy walls.

they know how you sound when he get's particularly rough, fucking into your from behind, headboard of the bed rattling against the wall with each sobbing whimper of yours, babbling mindlessly for simon to not stop, that you feel his cock so deep, and he growls like a beast, chest rumbling behind your dewy, arched back, as his calloused hands palm at the globs of your ass.

simon makes sure every noise is heard, the rapid, ringing slaps that sting on your skin, the way he pants a sultry commands for you to obey for, each of them emphasized by your sweet, syrupy whine, gasping slurred “yes, sir„ that only spur him on, until your brain doesn't turn in complete mush, eyes glassy as you sob with each jab of his bulbous, leaking tip against your spongy spot.

no one ever brings up your relationship without looking at the fact that simon never hides it, dragging you with him like an adorable pet, holding you on his lap, or sending you away in a loud enough whisper to warm his bed in his chambers before he arrives, and when anyone sees your absolutely nude picture on his cracked, phone home screen, they don't open their mouth.

main masterlist. quidelines.

...Baby... I ATE THIS UP SO HARD.

do you really think simon hasn't noticed how you look at him?

simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader

tags/warnings: MDNI, breeding, unprotected sex, choking, pure fucking smut

It had been two months since you stepped foot onto the 141 base, and as soon as you had, eyes were constantly on you. The men of the 141 were hungry—and you were a pretty piece of meat walking in front of them. A temptress.

No one caught your eye...well, almost no one. The 6'2" muscled man in a mask was an enigma to you, stoic and cold. Every time you found yourself around him, his eyes peering at you through the holes in his skull mask, your stomach clenched in the best way.

It was like you were possessed, your eyes glued to his tall frame every time he moved. You watched the way his hands gripped his gun, the muscles in his forearms rippling as he did. His deep grunt of a voice mesmerized you, and the deep void of his eyes seemed to hold your own whenever he looked at you.

Your little crush was bad. It had gotten to the point where he couldn't look at you without your cheeks getting hot, and you could swear he smirked at you underneath the mask. Today, for example, the two of you had finished a mission and on the ride back to base, he had squeezed your thigh and given a gruff, "Good job."

The touch sent fire burning through your veins, and before you could respond, your cheeks had heated and your thighs clenched together. Swallowing, you cleared your throat and watched him move his hand. "Thanks," you managed to say, voice breathy.

As soon as the vehicle stopped, you hopped out and beelined for your quarters. You shut the door behind you, back resting on the cold metal. You were panting, heart pounding against your ribcage. Could he really affect you with just a simple touch?

Fuck, you were screwed.

That night, you brought out your bottle of vodka, intent on getting a little tipsy to take your mind off of the ache between your thighs that Ghost had brought on. You were about to take a shot when a knock at your door startled you.

Sighing, you got up and opened the door, surprised to see the tall, masked figure in your doorway. You blinked, eyes raking down his body. He surprisingly was out of his gear, left in a tank top that showed the rippling muscles of his biceps and the tattoo sleeve inked on his skin and a pair of cargo pants. The mask was still on, though. He never took it off.

"Ghost?" You questioned, brows raised. "Whatcha doin' here?"

He leaned against the doorframe, eyes peering at you through the mask. "Heard you had alcohol. Thought we could have a drink together."

A million questions hung on the tip of your tongue, but you asked none of them. This was your excuse to be alone with him, and you wanted to take it. You nodded, opening your door wider so he could slip through. You shut it and turned to look at him, hyper aware of the tank top hugging your breasts and the shorts that might have been a little too short to be worn around company.

Wordlessly, you sat down, pulling out another shot glass. You poured two shots and handed one to Ghost, face flushing when your fingers brushed against his. You met his eyes and held them as you knocked back the shot, placing the glass back down. Ghost lifted the bottom of his mask to reveal his pink lips and straight nose before taking his shot, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

You're not sure how it happened—maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the relief of the mission being over, maybe it was just the pent-up sexual tension between you two—but you didn’t protest as two of Ghost's thick fingers plunged in and out of your soaked pussy a few minutes later.

You squirmed underneath him, moans slipping past your lips, and Ghost's lips turned up into a smirk as he held you in place with his other hand, gripping your hips so tight he'd leave a bruise.

"Uh uh, don't fucking move, love," he murmured, dipping his head so his lips could brush against your neck. He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made you see stars, and your eyes fluttered shut.

He sucked and nipped at the skin of your neck, running his tongue over the tender marks he made, his thumb rubbing your clit in precise motions. Your nails gripped his bare arms, digging into the flesh and making him hiss.

"Clenching so tight around my fingers," he muttered, looking into your eyes, his lips inches from yours. "You've been wanting this haven't you?"

You nodded, whining as he added a third finger, stretching you out so good. Your legs trembled, your breath catching in your throat as your stomach tightened.

"Ghost," you whined out, silently pleading for release.

He didn't let up—just smirked and kept going, waiting. His hand moved from your hip to your chest, thumb flicking across your hardened nipples as your back arched.

It was funny how hard your orgasm hit you. A strangled sound left your throat, legs trembling as your pussy throbbed around his fingers. He slowed his rhythm, finger fucking your through your orgasm, lips moving to leave open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

"What a good fucking girl," he murmured, his voice deep and gravelly. "Ready for my cock?"

Slowly, he pulled his fingers from your pussy, pushing them past his lips and sucking your juices off. He moaned—actually moaned. It might be the hottest thing you'd ever seen before.

The only sound in the room was the clink of his belt as he unbuckled it and dropped his pants to the floor, underwear going with them. His cock was thick and veiny, and your mouth watered as he slowly stroked it. He pointed at you, making a circle with his finger, indicating he wanted you to roll over.

You rolled onto your stomach, arching your back and lifting your hips, exposing your dripping cunt to him. He groaned, and you jolted as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your sensitive folds.

"You think I haven't noticed how you look at me?" He asked, gripping your hair and pulling it so your shoulders were pressed against his chest. He looked down at you as he slowly pushed his thick cock inside your pussy, your mouth hanging open as you met his gaze. "Think you haven't noticed how you squeeze your pretty thighs together every time I touch you?"

His sentence was accentuated with a hard thrust, and you groaned softly as he moved his grip from your hair to your throat. He was so deep inside you, and it felt like fucking heaven.

"Always wanted you," you managed to say as he began fucking you, his pace hard and brutal. "Had so many fantasies about—fuck!"

Your words turned to a loud cry as he hit your g-spot, and he smirked down at you as he squeezed your neck. "Shhhh, love. Shut up and take my cock."

You held his gaze as he fucked you, his other hand moving to your clit and rubbing in fat circles. It was too much—the feeling of his cock hitting your g-spot, his fingers at your clit, the dizziness from the way he held your throat. You were going to come, and he could feel it.

"Come on, pretty girl. Can feel you fucking squeezing me," he breathed out, lips brushing against yours. "Come for me. Need to feel you milk my cock."

Your body trembled at his words, and as you came, his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was fierce and animalistic, his tongue sliding along yours as your pussy throbbed around his cock and juices gushed out onto his shaft. He tugged on your bottom lip, his lips curved into a smirk.

"Good fucking girl," he praised, his fingers moving from your clit to spread along your stomach. His grip on your throat was firm, and he let out small moans as he continued to fuck you. "Gonna fill this pretty pussy up."

You nodded, spewing out pleas and whimpers as his cock twitched inside you, leaning into his touch. His lips parted, and his head moved to rest in the crook of your neck, teeth biting down hard on the skin as his thrusts became sloppy.

Half a second later, he was flooding your pussy with his cum, grunting as he bit down on the skin of your shoulder. His thrusts slowed, his cock throbbing as he held his cock deep inside you. Ghost's tongue swirled around the bite mark on your skin as he lifted his head, panting softly, not moving.

He tilted your head up, kissing you slow and soft, your name slipping past his lips like a prayer. Your eyes peered into his, and he smiled at you—a real, genuine smile.

"We're gonna have to do that more often, soldier."

[s]creams.

simon riley wearing jeans, it's just a simple pair of blue, nothing particularly new in his wardrobe, the knees slightly washed off from the countless amounts of being dirtied up, scraped and then washed up, but the way he looks in them makes you unsettled, fidgeting without tearing your dancing gaze off his brawny body.

meaty thighs hugged tightly by the fabric, growing more loose at his calfs, but holding securely at his wide hips and round ass, your eyes tracing every dip and twitch of his muscles beneath the fabric, and simon knows you're looking, sees the way your legs clench together sweetly, there's no doubt that you're soaked wet by just looking at your man, digging with your fingers in your knee caps.

that's how simon makes you hump his thigh, rocking your hips in desperate circles and messy jerks while you rub your dripping pussy raw against his jeans, a teared hole at the gusset of your soaked, cotton panties, as you wet the outline of his chubbed cock beneath the harsh fabric with glistening strings of pooling slick, his girth swollen and throbbing with leaking precum, but he's too focused on making you soak his pants.

fingers splayed on your hips, helping you rock forward, canting them for better pleasure as you spill keening moans from your slack lips, pebbled clit dragging just right across his tensed, clothed muscles, and you hiccup, chasing the feeling through the spasms in your trembling thighs and liquid heat across your tummy that makes your toes curl, as simon purrs in your ear about what a sight you are.

main masterlist. quidelines.

*smooch.*

big dicked ghost 👻 (🌽 link)

there is no denying, simon is BIG. in all senses of the world. he's tall and built like a fucking tank. and it reflects in what's between his thick and strong legs. because his dick isn't just big, it's girthy.

and his girth becomes a problem when fucking you, because a bit of foreplay isn't enough to get your poor pussy ready for what's about to come. quickies are not an option with ghost, because he has to spend a quite decent amount of time preparing you to take him.

he always starts eating you out, getting you nice and wet. and then his mouth starts getting accompanied by a chunky finger, while his lips latch around your clit, sucking incessantly. and one finger becomes two, and then three as he slowly works you open.

it may be a tedious job in some ways, but the reward is top notch. and it comes in the form of some of the best fucks in the world, with the extra stimulation coming from his with splitting you in two. and for him? the feeling of your tight walls hugging his cock.

and trust me, he's going to be balls deep inside of you.

'Adrenaline high' pt3.

I hope everyone is having an amazing day so far and if not I hope reading this makes it better for you even for a moment :) enjoy!

Warning: foul language

To say the least with a fucking ghost mask in your face to fleeting moment your eyes open,freaking out is a perfect reaction.

As if on cue you let out a startled noise from the literal pits of hell as you let out a hard left hook which sent the Larger man stumbling back with a groan as you lurched forward..and immediately felt the adrenaline in your body wake you right up alongside the near heart attack experience you just had.

"Jesus fucking christ Simon!" a harsh breathe came from you as the now respectively pissed off Simon Riley stood and stared at you at a safer distance a couple feet back.

"Do you just fucking sneak up on everyone and shove your face against theirs?!" The words hissed out at you as a groan audibly came from you as drumming sound pounded into your skull,and then the aftereffects of lurching upward and using your bad arm to knock a man his size back was coming to light with a oh so nice heavy throb to it.

Wincing you then rubbed your temples before muttering a sorry to him as the sound of something caught your attention in the silence..his voice.

"No,I don't. But that's not why I'm here. Two days you've been out Hound. It's time to get up,Your wanted in Prices office once you've.." you listened to his gruff voice trail off as his blue eyes glanced up and down your now slightly shaking figure that now had a death grip on the thin covers of the hospital bed in med bay..suddenly becoming aware on how shitty you must be looking at the moment. And then snapped out of your self conscious thoughts as he continued,the sound of his throat clearing audibly before he began. "Become seeable. See you there in 20" and with that,almost like a robot he turned and began to walk,and just as he was about to stride out of door he looked over his shoulder at you,watching a you staref back at his now still figure. "Don't be late y/n"...and he left. Leaving you to Bare a hard glare into the back of Ghosts retreating figure before you huffed and grumbled like an angry child would as you shoved the blankets off before swinging your legs to the side of the med bed and stood slowly,your legs crooning at the glee of be used again after...two days?.. your brows furrowed as you began to space out during the journey of making your way to your room and snagging clothes and quite literally stalking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you a little too hard..

The way you looked in the mirror,under the whitened light that was overhead made you cringe a bit. Your eyes sunken in,sad looking almost from being asleep but not actually resting and your hair...sticking to some of the dried blood from the fight and dirt in frenzied strands it sat,greasy and flat looking. Causing you to feel dirty and shudder as you tore you gaze from the mirror and turned the shower on,testing your still slightly aching shoulder in the water,you found it to not sting as much as you had thought it would. Almost tearing the clothes you had on off as you scrambled to get under the hot water you stumbled before huffing as you kicked off the last pant leg into the pile now sitting near the door as you waddled into the warm water. Your body relaxing and you letting a groan that wouldn't be misplaced in the bed room..which caused you to roll your eyes at yourself as you began to wet your scalp and scrub your skin and body until it hurt..and then you got out after what seemed forever..but in really you knew was only eight minutes. Awkwardly drying your self off you threw on the clothes you had on,military cargo pants that where held a little higher then your hips with a thin elastic belt and a black tantop..and you caught a look at your shoulder,the wound was red..mean and ugly as it was stitched tightly and cleanly shut..not sign of infection..you glanced away from it and went back to the task at hand,hiding your dog tags under the shirt as you dried you hair,scrambled white socks on and then brushed your teeth and deodorant before scuffing to your room and yanking a pair of military boots on.. and on your way you went to Prices office,with a good three minutes to spare as you made your way down the hall way to the office. But the thoughts of what this was about was sending you through a whole loop..and then you stood out side the door before you rapped against the wood With your knuckle once before a voice boomed.

"Come in"

Prices voice. It was heavy and did not sound happy nor angry...just heavy..

And with a harsh swallow you reached for the knob and twisted before stepping into the office.

And the sight of Price sitting at his desk with Ghost standing near him sent a message to you..possibly the wrong one.

Oh good God is this how you lost your job? Because Ghost couldn't fucking watch his back properly? And then that sent a thought of disdain toward him. Mayne he wasn't so great if he did a simple mistake. Maybe-

"Y/n" Prices voice rang out as you stood there,position tightened and your back as straight as it could get as you stared ahead with you hands behind your back.

"Yes sir?"

"You can sit. Your not in trouble. Just a meeting soldier."

And with that your body relaxed a breath you didn't even realize left your body almost urgently. And then you crossed your arms and waiting for what he was going to say,all the while you could feel Ghosts gaze boring holes into you.

"With the uncovering of not just one but multiple Hard drives of information and planning of the cartel we've been able to break some ground . In the following week we will all move out to a town,or well a ghost town neighboring the one you two just where. That is where their storing all of their drugs and weapons.. and so,we will be in charge of quite literally blowing it to the ground..understand?"

"Yes sir!"

In unsion you both spoke and in unsion both your gazes locked..and so did a glare match at both your faces..and then prices voice said something that made your day..

"Now get the hell outta my office". And with that as ghost was making his hulking ass to the door,you shouldered past him roughly as he muttered something after you and off you marched off to wherever your feet where taking you..and soon you found yourself outside with joggers and a thick red hoodie.. The bitter air woke you right up as it filled your lungs sharply,burning them as you felt your gaze snap to soap and gaz who both had obviously noticed your arrival to the track as they approached and soon you three where talking and walking.. and then soap spoke loudly,making himself known quite well even though you and gaz where hearing him perfectly fine without his screeching...

"Say...how about a race? First one to finish 400 meters win a free drink yeah?"

And a smile broke out onto your face as gaz laughed nervously.

"Oh your on McTavish,But..here's the question,who'll stand aside and say ready set g-"

"I will"

Gaz blurted almost immediately. Eagerly,which caused you to bust out laughing as Soaps utter dumbfounded face.

"Ok,well,to the starting line Y/n"

It was nice hearing your name other than hound..reminded you that you where human and not just a dog to laswell..

You followed behind soap as he approached the starting line,and Gaz stood on the grass area of the inner track and glanced around as the two of you took positions. And the world around you seemed to slow and dispate,your shoulder...soaps nagging and taunts as you looked ahead..you took a basic sprinters position.."Runners on Your mark"..your body working like clock work as your relaxed your shoulders as the adrenaline In your soared.."Get set"...your head lowered and your legs raised...and then Gaz's words thundered into air around you..

"GO!"

Springing Into action you flew upwards,your legs pumping hard and fast as you approached the middle of the first turn on the track with soap riding the inner lane..and so..you pushed him harder as you both broke the first 100 meter line. Your legs now lengthening in stride and your arms pumping harder,your stride became larger,more so exaggerated..and then mid way through the second 100 meters you felt yourself stride away from Soaps figure..and soon you found yourself utterly flying through the last turn and down the runway,your legs flying swiftly as your breath hissed in quick short pants and soon you found yourself thundering through the finish life and slowing to stop as your leaned over and began huffing for air as you listened to Gaz laugh at Soap as he soon after many moments..many moments..crossed the finish line. Once you caught your breath you stood up with your hands on your hips to find Alejandro and Ghost standing next to Gaz..approaching the trio as Soap was quite literally gasping for air still on the track.

And then Alejandros voice broke through,a laugh in his tone as he spoke.

"Who knew even with a busted shoulder you'd be flying out of here like Diablo himself was ok your ass" a smile spread across his face as you laughed with him at Soaps pouting face before you found Ghost baring a stare at you,which sent a slight shiver down your warm body.

"So..Alejandro you up for a run?"

"You take me for a fool Hound? You will outrun me worse than Soap!"

And then you all agreed to head inside to the base,and in jostle words and jokes you all walked,even Ghost slipped in some comments but you always found his gaze always on you..and to be frank it was slightly pissing you off In a way..ignoring it you shoved the annoyed feeling you had down your throat bitterly and once you found yourself in the warmth of the main room you found yourself scrambling to the kitchen for a hot drink..tea sounded good..now let's just hope Ghost doesn't throttle you with a tea bag if he find you drinking it. You listened as the group dispersed,Gaz and Soap flopped onto the couch into the "living room" and Alejandro slunked off to somewhere and Ghost?..you didn't have a clue and to be frank you did not care as you shuffled around in the cupboards and hummed as you found a thing of green tea,snaking a tea bag into your hand you then,like a giddy child filled a mug up with water before placing the bag onto the counter and then into the microwave..and before you knew it,you where sipping a cup of now Luke warm tea at the kitchen counter on a stool as you heard snores..? Was it night already? Glancing to your watch you felt your throat go dry..it was 9 at night..and here you where,sipping you 4th cup of fucking tea as you stared at the wall like it was interesting..and then a voice made you jump..

"Are you drinking my fucking tea?"

Oh shit....

'Adrenaline high' pt 10.

Warnings:foul language and slight nsfw

Hey everyone ! I hope you're all doing OK! And good and swell in this time for the holidays :) sadly this chapter will be the ending chapter for this bitter sweet story BUT DONT FRET THERE IS A KONIG X MALE READER THAT WILL BE POSTED TOMORROW OR CHRISTMAS 👀

Also, if you have any requests for little one-shot stories and such as just dm me or pop a comment on any post of mine and I'll see it.

Anyhow, enjoy this last chapter of this little spice of life :)

Simon stirred away in the sunlight, streaming down onto both your still figures, your bare backside pressed elegantly tightly against his bare chest as you slumbered,taking in the heat of the larger man who watched your sleep peacefully. He then felt his hand shift from your side down to your hips and began to gently slide his hand up and down your side,as if he was forcing himself to remember your touch against his, how your sides dipped and how your curves felt and how the daring mountains of ribs that where moving from every breath you drew mightly moved beneath his touch.

He cooed at you and watched it silence as he felt at peace..but not just at peace.. alive. He felt utterly alive and steady with you right now. And he didn't want to let that feeling go. Not now,not ever.

And he watched as you stirred,grumbling with a whine as you peered over your shoulder at him and broke a light grin at him and shot a quick, 'morning' to him as you rolled onto your other side to face him, and he found his hand placing it self onto your waist and pulling you closer to him, watching you envelope yourself into his warmth. And he spoke, with such a rough morning voice that it stirred you to fumble your morning demeanor and scramble to refind it. "Well, good morning to you too"

And that's when you looked up to see his supirsed and smirked expression on his face, and then it dawned upon you....the sudden realization that he wasn't wearing his mask... and you took in the sight of his face, your mind memorizing a million times over in the short span of such a few seconds. The way his growing out blonde buzz cuts tight curls matched him perfectly in a way... the sigh of his eyes...piercing blue and utterly memorizing you..and his nose..that looked to be defiantly broken a good few times over seemed to be perfect to you... he was perfect to you ..and that's when your gaze found its way to the scar on his thin,pinkish, chapped, and rough lips.. it traveled from the base of his left jaw with his face stubble, and it traveled up through a part of his lef side of the lips revealing part of his gums and teet,especially the canine teeth of his..and it utterly amazed you and looked...utterly beautiful on him.

"Your beautiful..."

The words left your mouth and left you stunned at what you said as your heart stopped before restarting in spasms as you realized what you had just said... and you watched as his gaze went wide before it softened as he replied to your voice.. "God's I love you." His voice cracked as he spoke..like he was afraid of saying that aloud..like he was afraid of even putting it out there to anyone..to you...

And then that single phrase made you think..and then you mouth opened and a single phrase that came out of your mouth made you want to slam your head into a wall.

"What are we?" It was fast,sudden..nervous.. afraid perhaps of what Simon would say?

All you knew is that He smirked and replied with such a crooked smirk that it made you shiver Beneath his gaze as his brows quirked up.

"Well..what do YOU want us to be hm?"

Fuck.

You then thought before beginning a mindless ramble to yourself in your mind before you suddenly spoke, quickly, as if you where afraid of the ability to speak to leave you before you two had stopped talking.

"Well,let's see, we both fucked,we're cuddling,we've saved eachother a million times. You make me nervous,I can feel your hard on rubbing against me, and we're in YOUR bed.. so..what does that make us Simon?"

"Well..thats makes you my Boy yes?"

My boy..

His..

Your his...

And him yours...

You then nodded and snuggled closer to Simon's body and breath with him,listening to his steady heartbeat with the comfortable silence surrounding you two.

As of right now, you weren't just two humans.. hell, you two weren't just "The Hound" and "Ghost"..you two were just, "Y/n" and "Simon"

Two humans just trying to find where they belong.

And you belong with him. And he belongs with you. Together, and you had found a high better than any drug, him. He made you feel.. safe, perhaps? And you..you made him feel alive, secure.

Both of you had found your own Adrenaline High amongst each other, each both making the other alive and moving...

And well... you both knew that the journey from here on out..

As you both laid in eachothers arms,both drifting back to sleep smiling...

That this was going to be one hell of a ride....

I hope you all enjoyed this small, lengthy ride of a journey as much as I have with this story, and don't fret! Like I said, there is one with Konig and you coming soon enough! Possibly in two days,and requests are always open :)

But thank you all that enjoyed this story and are going to look and find it it in the future. :) until tomorrow everyone.

Fanfiction Icks/ Writer/Reader icks

Warnings: This is will contain, dark topics, Swearing and problematic issues

Side notes:

-This is MY opinion, if you don't like it scroll away

-Some of these are very long

-I will keep adding to this for probably any time I get a writing or reader ick

When the reader gets a dog and names it a human name, ain't no body want a dog named Lola. Lola??? Fr???

Describing the 'reader insert' with commonly white features, ex. Straight locs of hair, soft and pale skin (ick), your cute button nose (really???) (Side note, I'm a mixed person but the only white features I have is my skin colour (which is pretty naturally tanned tbh) so you could imagine my annoyance when the author writes the reader with straight hair ect)

Giving us a crap load of trauma with none of it making sense. Like if we experience a traumatic event NO WE ARENT JUST GONNA BRUSH PASS IT???

Making the story an Oc when it's labelled reader insert. Sorry but no surprisingly I do NOT have green eyes and long straight golden blonde locks believe it or not

Making the relationship between the characters seem pedophilic, like why are we 4'9, busty but so skinny, no scars, no ability to defend ourselves, no nothing but we dating ghost? Specifically for war or soldier based readers it's just bad writing at that point

Like 75% of the bnha writing community, that shit is either Rape, Abusive or overall hella dark, this also leads back to number 5, they make us look and act like a literal 8 year old while we work with heroes. Now I'm fine with age regression and stuff like that but in no way is that ever mentioned in the post were just portrayed as a child dating teenagers

Body shaming, why should I be depressed that my body's different from yours? Yes people do want to look different from how they already and yes people get surgeries to change how they look and that's OKAY, I support them! But in no way shape or form should a writer ever make a writing piece about you needing to change your body to please others

Body shaming Pt.2, Writing a character who clearly has a set in stone body type and getting rid of it for a more 'aesthetically pleasing' body type. Re-designing a strong, muscular AFAB character like Korra or Miruko as a weak and less muscular version of themselves without adding an AU or plot where they end up like that takes away representation and the entire purpose of their story, same with only writing AMAB people with strong, muscular and toned body. It's unrealistic and makes your writing displeasurable to read

Any teacher/student type of relationships. I refuse to go explain this, an age gap is completely fine and I sometimes read that but making it between a teacher and any kind of student is extremely unacceptable

Lying about your Homophobia, listen I'm completely fine with you not writing LGBTQ+ pieces because your straight and think you'll mess up, yes that's totally fine but not doing it because you hate the idea of us liking more than one gender or not liking anyone at all than saying you're an ally? Really?

Lying about tags, this is mostly aimed at the people who use she/her or he/him pronouns in fics they've labelled as Gender neutral, come on people YOU'RE BETTER THAN THAT

(Jojolover21 reminded me of this one) When you give the reader a set nationality or race, like were not all Americans, I'm Australian and you know damn well if I even SEE LITTLE HINTS that we EVEN SLIGHTY American best believe I'm clicking off. ICKK

This is a VERY personal opinion on this type of writing but Parental issues written poorly, as someone who has experience dealing with abusive parenting or any abusive guardianship relation it pisses me off when I see people who romantise, sexualise or overall shit on the fact that people have shitty parents for the sake of their story. Yes all peoples experiences are different but if we get brutally beaten everyday, we're definitely, One: going to develop some aspects of issues, like traumatic episodes, strict and strange boundaries and types of behaviours who people with normal parents wouldn't have, Two: Going to have to WORK through your issues with said guardian if the reader wants to, no one on gods green earth would wanna talk to their mother after she sold them for no reason like do I really to say that????? And Three: under no circumstances would we all turn out the same (this is about if the abused reader has siblings), if the reader is more physically abused either sexually or aggressively they may act similar to their siblings yes but they won't have the same reactions to their brother for example who got mentally and emotionally abused

On the topic of parents, this is one is kinda nit picky but making the reader an official characters biological kid, especially if the parents are two of the same race, like just say you're not trying to be inclusive cause dya know how EASY it is to write the fact that somebody's adopted?? 'Oh but it won't make it as meaningful, oh woe is me on being called out' Bitch, that's your own writing if you can't write it to be everything you wanna claim it to be don't write it simple 🤷

When the reader has no character development what so ever, for example. Putting the reader in an abusive relationship them realising its abusive AND FINISHING THE STORY OFF WITH THEM IN THE SAME ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP

Damn straight 😤

Back from your honeymoon with your husband Simon, one of the first places you visit as newlyweds is a pub down the street where he and his mates usually spend Saturday nights when free.

It is nothing new, a weekly occurrence and in many of those weeks, you were invited. Your phone would usually ping with a voice note from one of the Sergeants drunkenly complaining about your absence.

So you don't understand why you can't rub off the feeling that something is different tonight. You are sitting beside your husband, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb caressing your softness.

Until you realise what's different.

He keeps making you stand up to the bar to order the drinks.

They usually switch every round, every time standing and ordering a different person from the table. But tonight? It has been you, one after the other, again and again. You don't quite understand why and simply shrug it off as boys being boys and wanting to spend time together after being again.

Until you are ordering, and a man you have never met before stands beside you, leaning too much for comfort into your safe zone.

"Are you here alone, baby?" The man slurs his words.

"No, I'm here with my-"

"Your boyfriend? I'm sure your shitty boyfriend wouldn't mind if you went home with me."

He goes silent, the eerie feeling of a presence making you both get quiet. But you know it's him.

"Actually... That's my wife, ya wanker."

And you don't need to turn, to know that your beloved husband has a victorious smile on his face. Happy his little plan worked.

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P1 here.

Ghost walks through the door of your home as if he owns the place, tossing his keys onto the coffee table and shrugging off his gear by the door. He remembers your address by heart and recognizes the space he's walking through once again. 

Glancing around, he expected to see you greet him at the foyer only to be met with silence. Ghost passes by your couch, gloved fingers running against the back while his mind replays the sounds of your needy moans from when he fingered you on the cushions just weeks ago.

Ghost has had countless flings and meaningless one night stands, but never did he expect any of the doves he's played with to actively call for more. 

Though he wasn't complaining.

A creaking floorboard causes his head to snap towards the stairs. There, he sees you cautiously descending, the sides of your nightgown clutched anxiously in your palms. “I didn't think you'd actually show.” 

Simon stares at you, his eyes roaming over your form, taking in every dip and curve visible through the lacey material. He lets out a heavy breath, fist clenched in deep restraint as he thanked every single god above for what's standing in front of him. “How can I ignore a civilian in need?”

Your laugh makes him still, the mirthful chuckle and the smile on your lips making the tent in his pants ache painfully.

Did you know what you were doing to him? How just your chuckles alone stirred something profound?

“So… upstairs or on the couch?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“You wanted me here, love. Dealers' choice.” Simon watches you fumble, fingers thumbing over the lacing decorating the bottom of your nightgown.

“Upstairs then.”

For Simon, everything seems to happen in blurs. Just moments ago he was standing by the stairs and the next he's in between your legs, one large hand splayed over your stomach having you lay back motioning for you to relax as he eats you out like a man starved.

He doesn't remember how he got here; all that matters now is the taste of your cunt on his tongue. Simon laps at your glossy lips, tongue gliding your sensitive folds to your clit, making sure to give both his undivided attention. He needed no words to know he was doing a good job; your knees attempting to lock behind his head was added confirmation if your whines for more weren't enough.

“Can't you just put it in?” You huff in between moans, attempting to sit up on your elbows despite his efforts to keep you down.

“Shhh…” Simon coos, pressing a fleeting kiss on your pearl before pulling away his chin and lips shining your slick. “Look at that, practically begging for me.” A thick digit runs down your slit, gathering a pool of wetness and licking it off his fingers. 

Simon gazes at your cunt, observing how just his lips hovering near causes your weeping hole to clench around nothing. He could watch this all day. Watch how badly you needed him. How only he had the privilege to hear you beg.

“Alright, fussy bird,” He stands up straight, his shadow completely consuming you, the stark differences between you two are evident. Simon is not a small man in the slightest. Everything about him screams large. His presence commands attention, from his muscular arms down to his sturdy thighs.

Simon grabs ahold of your waist, pulling you against his bulge, slowly grinding his hips up and down, teasing you along the rough fabric of his jeans. He shows a little restraint, purposely holding back in hopes of hearing more pleas. “Come on, love, tell me what you need.”

This is what you dreamed of. His hands, his voice, his lips against your skin, a true dream come true. The final stretch was so close, so near and yet he still kept you tethered to the edge. “Please, I need it,” You mewl desperately, hips bucking for more friction.

Simon chuckles lightly, watching as you practically bounce in anticipation. "Someone's in a hurry," he jokes, despite his growing ardor matching your own.

With nimble fingers, he quickly unbuttons his jeans, sliding them down along with his boxers until he's bare to you. His eyes bore into yours as he did so, a silent question in them. His large cock sprang free, bobbing up against his stomach in time with his rapid heartbeat. 

The sight of his length, standing proud and erect, was enough to intensify the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. Finally, you'd be full once again, getting to feel that cock of his in places no one else can reach. You nod all too eagerly, laying back to fully embrace everything.

With a swift lift of your hips, Simon nudges the edge of himself against you, drawing a ragged groan as he feels the wet heat of your waiting entrance. One hand grabbing his length, he slowly guided his throbbing cock against your slick folds. The head of his erection teased your entrance for a moment, before he pressed forward, burying himself inside you. “Fuck, fuck, more, please.” 

Simon can't help but smirk at your eagerness, patting your thigh appreciatively. “Can't rush things, dove. Don't want you breaking.” It's a slow push, his cock stretching your welcoming heat inch by inch. As he bottomed out, he let out a throaty groan, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him.

You cum in that exact moment, your pussy squeezing tightly around him and milking his cock. It feels like a faucet that won't stop dripping, coating his length with your sweet juices. For a brief moment you're dazed, head swimming and unable to hear anything over the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Fuck me,” he breathes, admiring the sight of you breathless. You feel like velvet, your pussy a vice he wasn’t sure he’d be able to quit. His thumb pushes against your clit and you whine, your voice high-pitched.

“Sensitive, please,” you beg, squirming until his hands force your hips down. Your lips are forced into an o shape, a silent scream forced from your chest when he does the exact opposite.

You’re not sure if you’re begging for him to stop or begging for more–it’s hard to tell when you’re being fucked within an inch of your life.

“Stay with me dove, stay with me,” Simon sneers, something depraved and feral in his voice. “Lemme make you feel good.”

Once the initial shock of cumming has passed, he begins to move inside you, setting a slow, deliberate pace. With every thrust, he claimed more of you, your bodies moving together in synchronicity. The scent of your sex mingled in the confined space of your bedroom, intensifying the intimate atmosphere.

Simon closes his eyes, wanting to savor the moment. Everything about this is mesmerizing. He'd rather be here than anywhere else in the world.

A hitched moan has him opening his eyes, his gaze boring into yours, wanting to see every flicker of pleasure that passes through you. Thank you, god, Simon thinks. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, but he held on, wanting to draw this pleasure out as long as possible. He wanted to give you everything and more.

“Feel like heaven,” he breathes. “Is this what you wanted? Wanted me nice and deep huh?”

His palm presses on your stomach where his cock bulges the skin, his grin wicked. “Poor girl, can’t make herself cum so she had to call me, yeah?”

You nod, a symphony of yes yes yes escaping you as Simon bears down upon you, the bed rocking with each movement.

“Had to call me because you know no one can fuck you like I can,” he says, “say it for me, c’mon.”

You hiccup through every word. “N-No one can fuck me—oh god—like you Si’—”

Your words make his ego grow, muttering of that's fuckin’ right streaming from his lips as he comes, the feeling sending your nerves on overdrive. 

As he felt you tightening around him, he knew you were close—as close as he was. His hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure. He stroked in rhythm with his thrusts, chasing your orgasm with his.

Your pleasure peaked simultaneously, his cum filling you as you cum around him, walls clenching and rippling along his length in your aftershock. After a moment, he pulls out carefully, the room filled with your heavy breathing. 

Neither of you spoke for a while, simply staring back at each other through lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks. Simon starts his retreat, stepping back to make distance and pulling up his pants. Your hand on his makes him pause. He raises a brow, confused by your actions. He opens his mouth but you're quicker.

“We aren't done.”

-

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The original prompt was supposed to be a little thing; but so many people liked it, so here <3! This most likely won't be a series.