Simon Riley Cod - Tumblr Posts
simon riley, possessiveness and hickeys.
your boyfriend, simon, can't help but feel incredibly possessive over you. he doesn't like when you wear something skimpy, something revealing, especially if he's not going to be there to protect you.
he often worries that someone will take advantage of you while you're drunk, or won't realise that you're in a committed relationship, which is why simon feels the need to leave hickeys along your body. you don't even notice it, too distracted by the pleasure between your thighs. at first, it's a small hickey between your supple thighs while he's eating you out slowly and messily, preparing you for his dick.
then, it's more obvious hickeys, where people are bound to see them. simon's grip on your waist is tight, his thick and girthy cock stuffed inside your cunt and filling your tight hole, your folds swollen and puffy around his shaft. your chest rises and falls rapidly, with simon sucking a dark hickey onto your left tit through deep and hoarse groans, his dark eyebrows furrowed together and his dick throbbing and pulsing at the sounds of your moans and gasps. he pays attention to the sounds of your breathing, his lengthy cock twitching when you suck in a sharp breath.
and if you attempt to conceal them with makeup or with a hoodie, he'll just leave them in places you can't hide.
let everyone know, love.
You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”
He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”
“I want a big mac.”
He groans louder.
“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”
He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”
You almost tear up.
When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”
You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”
He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed.
He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag.
“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”
“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?”
“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full.
“Do ya think he’ll like me?”
“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”
He chuckles, “Love you too.”
He leans down, kissing your belly.
“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”
(Office tv show interview)
simon: no yeah I am wildly in love with them, I will die for them
(cuts scene to parking lot, to where Simon playfully shoves Reader, but they fall face first anyway. And Simon just stares at the ground for a minute and then makes eye contact with the camera)
(cut scene)
Simon: do I think they know? Oh yeah, wear my heart on ma fucking sleeve. (Cuts to Johnny)
Johnny, after listening to the interviewer: …LT has emotions?
(um…yeah idk what this is. Jus a goofy lil idea)
Ghost: I cut my finger Y/N: I can kiss it so it'll get better Ghost: That works? Y/N: Yeah my mum used to do it when I was little *later* Ghost: I need you to punch me in the mouth Roach: Fucking finally
You know how its a thing when an animal stretches people say 'ooh biiig stretch'?
Imagine doing the same whenever you see one of the cod hybrid men stretch :(( They'd be so cute😭
Like big, burly wolfdog hybrid!Simon who's usually a killing machine, all dark and broody with a long fluffy black tail and pointy ears and a maw of razor sharp teeth? Imagine him stretching good and long, ears pulled back and you can't help but giggle and go 'oooh what a big stretch!' and he's standing there all confused and slightly loopy♡
simon who falls asleep face down in the pussy!!
your fingers curl into his scalp, warm thighs encompassing all round his head. everything about you is so warm, so soft like a pillow he can’t help the way his mind wanders off with the sweet taste of you, the way his eyes flutter tiredly.
you can feel the heady drag of his tongue against your clit lighten up, like a feather teasing at the beating pearl. n you give him a soft tug, dipping your chin to peer down at his pretty face between your thighs.
“you okay, si?” your murmur out softly, petting the top of his head in gentle motions.
“mm’okay,” he slurs, slurping up at your clit softly before he’s sucking up round it. he’s barely conscious, just enough to register the lullaby of your soft whimpers, the twitch of your thighs.
his tongue slips down further, jaw dropping wide when he forces the cute lil pink muscle to reach depths in your slippery cunt. n you perk up, back arching up n nails scratching at his scalp.
it all dawns on him, mind n darkness entrancing him all too soon. “taste so good, mama, so…” n his words trail off into a slur. you can feel his head loll forward, his nose press between your folds in a deep breath.
you shudder when he exhales, thighs squeezing up round his head but you fight to stay still. yet it begins to turn into a struggle when his spit drools from his open lips. you can feel it drip, slip down over your pretty cunt n lower till you’re gasping softly to yourself.
oop. ✋🤚 lemme just step back for a sec
♡ ghost + reader — smut — 794 wc
tags. dom!ghost, praise, degrading, (light) choking warnings. cheating!, ghost is possessive, cucking, not proofread reader. afab, no gendered terms, gn pronouns (very min usage) note. i cannot defend myself w this,, also hello this is my first fic on here :3 pls enjoy !!
ghost fucking hated it when you brought up the rat that you call your boyfriend.
not once had he ever heard a single positive thing about the guy fall from your lips, yet you've been with him for nearly two years. you were always complaining about him, and ghost was sure that you'd deny time off half the time because it meant you had to go home to him.
ghost knew you were deprived. of touch, of affection, of sex. it wasn't hard to tell, truthfully — he knew you well enough.
that's probably why it hadn't been too hard for ghost to get you into bed with him. he practically begged you to let him fuck you, which he knew would be a hit on his ego later on when he came back to his senses. but right now, he doesn't care.
here you are, underneath him as he bullies his thick cock into your tight cunt, quivering and writhing below him as you near your fourth orgasm. he'd made you cum once from just his fingers, twice from his tongue; he knew he'd have you turned into a shivering puddle of whimpers before he even let himself think about cumming.
he wraps his hand around your throat loosely as he fucks into you, each thrust making a shockwave of overstimulating pleasure rip through your body.
"fuck," he growls lowly. "you feel s'fucking good on my cock, lovie... so fuckin' tight, huh?" his grip tightens almost imperceptibly as he groans, adjusting his hips to hit your sensitive spots just right. "look so pretty stuffed full of me, baby."
his movements slow just a bit when he hears your phone ringing on the bed, and he rustles through the sheets with his free hand to find it. he's about to hang up, or at the very least mute the ringer, when he notices who's calling you.
"guess who," he mumbles, tilting the screen so you can see the caller id. a gasp catches in your throat when you see your boyfriend's name illuminated on the screen in bold white text. ghost doesn't stop fucking you as he answers the call and lifts the phone to his ear.
the man on the other end of the line says your name, expecting to hear your voice. instead, though, he's met by a deep, gravelly one.
"no, but i can put them on," ghost replies, a smirk on his lips even as you shook your head. you clasp a hand over your mouth, trying to keep your moans quiet.
ghost tsks, pulling his hand away from your throat and grasping your wrist, tugging your hand from your mouth. he raised one brow — a warning. don't do that again. he lets go of your wrist then and places his hand on your pelvic bone, using it as leverage to keep you still while he fucks you.
"such a good little doll for me," he coos, speaking into your phone. "taking my big cock so well, aren't you, baby?" he smiles darkly before moving to rub your clit, his calloused thumb rubbing tight, rough circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. you can feel your orgasm building, and you have to hold your breath to keep your sounds in.
"he doesn't fuck you this good, does he?" ghost says, his voice full of faux sympathy and a mocking directed at the man over the phone. you shake your head, but that doesn't please ghost. his brow furrows and he shoves his hips hard against yours, making you cry out in pleasure as his cockhead hits your already bruised cervix. "use your words, babydoll," he murmurs to you.
"n-no lieutenant," you whimper out, the sound weak and pathetic. "you fuck me best. b-better than him."
"that's it," ghost moans, the words dripping with an approval that makes your pussy flutter around him. he rubs your clit harder, faster, determined to take you over the edge again. "cum for me, sweetheart. let me hear you fall apart for me."
you do just that. your body trembles, your thighs closing around his hips, clit throbbing and pussy clenching around him. you cry out his name as your back arches, and he smiles. he looks back at your phone, seeing that your cucked boyfriend hadn't hung up just yet.
"sorry mate, i don't think they're yours anymore," ghost mumbles into the phone, careless for the man's feelings. he ends the call and blocks his number before tossing the phone back into the messy sheets.
he grips your hips with both hands, so tightly that you know bruises will be left behind. slowing his hips, he leans down, his face beside yours.
"you're all mine now, baby," he murmurs into your ear. "all fucking mine."
cr @i7ghost 02292024. do not repost, translate, etc.
OH MY FUCKING GODDDDD THIS VERSION OF GHOST??? HELLO?!
The first time it happens wasn't on purpose, but Ghost spills over your pumping fist with a low desperate groan that makes you pulse between your legs. "Good boy." You file it away, make a mental note that he came without his usual warning.
The second time it happens is on purpose. You're riding him, grinding your hips down against his lap, feeling the rough curls of his hair against your clit. You press your hands against his chest, stare at him with a smile as he hits all the sweetest parts of you and coo out, "Such a good boy for me." Ghost swallows thickly, tips his head back with a shaky breath, and groans out a swear. He doesn't come, but you can feel his cock twitch, can see the way blush blooms down his neck and over his chest. "Does my good boy want to come?" You ask, succor sweet. The hitch in his breath is the only warning you get before he fills you, spills his warm come into you with a low groan and a mumbled apology. You've never heard Ghost mumble before.
You ask him about it, apologize quietly in the morning when he's got an arm slung over his eyes to shield them from the sun streaming in through the windows. "S'fine," He'd grumbled, still half asleep, "liked it. Got my tail waggin'."
The next time you say it is when you wrap his leash tighter around your hand, just to tug the thick leather around his neck as he fucks you like a dog. "Fuck," you drool against the bed, "my good boy." He fucks you so deliriously hard, too hard for the desperation in his voice when he leans over and tells you, "I am. 'M yours."
Simon picked your engagement ring himself. He went to the jeweller, saw the ring, and immediately thought of you. He loves it. He’s always kissing your left hand. He’s so in love with you, it aches.
When the two of you finally get married, he never stops looking at his ring. It’s a plain thick silver band, but he loves it so much. He’s just so afraid he’ll lose it.
Instead, he wears the ring on his dog tag chain and gets your initial tattooed on him. The day he comes home from deployment, at first, you don’t notice anything different but his facial hair. Then, when you ask him to get you a fork at dinner, you gasp, “What’s that?”
“What?” he raises a brow.
You grab his hand, pointing to the tattoo. “What? Where’s your ring? What’s this?”
“Here,” he tugs at the chain around his neck. “And ‘is is jus’ to show people ’m married.”
“It’s permanent!”
“Is our marriage no’ supposed to be?”
“But-”
“Are ya tryin’ to leave me, lovie?”
“No…it’s just…permanent…”
“Good. You’re my Mrs. ‘hat’s permanent too.”
You giggle. “Fine. I’m getting one too.”
“Like ‘ell you are. ‘M not letting you ruin that perfect skin.”
“But-”
“Lovie,” he warns. “No means no. I know how much you love me and you hate needles.”
“Okay…”
“You could spread your legs to prove it though.”
“SIMON!”
poor simon when he doesn’t get his daily nut in 🥜😢
he’d be fisting at his cock desperately, the pretty wet sounds filling the silent, calm space of your shared bedroom. yet, he was anything but calm, body quivering and cowering into the bed as his heart begins to peak with bliss.
you’d be still asleep beside him, unknown to the somewhat disgusting actions of your husband amongst the middle of the night. he’s surprised you haven’t woken, all with the choked gasps and whimpers coming up his throat, the way he arches and falls shaking the headboard slightly.
yet one particular sob stirs you from your peaceful slumber, eyes blinking against the darkness to understand the sounds that fill your ears.
n when the picture paints out clear, and your lips part in a pretty, groggy mumble of “simon?” his toes are curling in n his eyes flicker over to you for the slightest of a second before they’re rolling back and his teeth are piercing through his fist to mask the filthy sound that falls from his lips.
that last sentence don’t even got a comma 🥲
Possessive Simon is the best Simon to me 😩😩😩
Locker Room: Simon's POV
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader
Content & Warnings: swearing, possessive behavior, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), dirty thoughts, multiple creampie
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: originally for @glitterypirateduck 's Ghost Writing Challenge, this is Simon's POV follower parts ONE & Two of Locker Room.
A/N(2): Remember how I said I was in the emergency room and have been feeling like absolute shit? Well I slept for 48 hours and I felt well enough to write this. Enjoy!
Part One // Part Two
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist
A bloke shouldn’t have his wank interrupted in the shower.
Simon had been in his head, his hand around his cock, stroking himself to the image of the woman he’s been thinking about for the last few fucking months.
He had heard the silence first, all the banter in the locker room ceasing. That pulled him right out of it, and in seconds Simon stepped out of the shower with a towel around his hips. Your voice drifted in, demanding an audience with him.
And he knew why.
He left that little note on purpose.
The reports are just fine, sweetheart.
Simon wanted to rile you up, to push you a bit, but he didn’t think you’d barge into the men’s locker room just to confront him.
When he appeared, and everyone cleared out, Simon didn’t expect such fire from you. He thought you would fold. That with one look you’d melt into him, but you did the opposite. And then you grabbed him by the fucking dog tags and kissed him.
Simon was done for.
The moment you left, he returned to that shower and jerked himself so fast it almost hurt. He had to have you, but Simon wasn’t going to go after you right then. He made himself wait, and that was the hardest fucking part. Simon desired nothing more than to follow you out of that locker room, toss you over his shoulder, and carry you off.
He’s glad he waited. Simon took you in your office, and yet it wasn’t enough. Not for either of you. Worse, Simon could tell that you were going to end it right then, leave everything nice and tidy. And Simon wasn’t having that.
Now, you’re here, in his home.
Naked. Bare. Skin glossy with sweat. Pussy full of his cum.
You’re fucking beautiful like this, and the sounds you make are even sweeter.
With arms outstretched against the bed, you arch your back, pushing your ass up into the air. Simon fills his hands with those perfect cheeks. He squeezes, leans forward, and gently bites, pulling forth a moan from your lips that goes straight to his dick.
You’ve been milking him all fucking night. You keep demanding more, and Simon is happy to give it. He doesn’t want to go into work. He wants to stay right here. With you. In his bed.
With your knees digging into the top of the bed, you spread them a bit, exposing your pussy to Simon. He cannot help himself when he sees the mess he’s made there. Removing one hand from your ass, Simon runs his fingers over your slick pussy. The sound of his fingers sliding through you invades the room, and it is all Simon can focus us.
It’s a gorgeous sight. A gorgeous sound.
“You want more, love?” asks Simon gently.
His gaze sweeps over your body as his fingers play with your pussy. You shiver, inhale sharply, and then moan a reply that sounds like an agreement. You’re almost twitching with need. You can’t stay still. Every part of you is asking for more, opening for him, but Simon needs to hear those sweet words on your lips.
“Tell me,” he says again, this time leaning over your body to grasp your face and turn your gaze on him. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you inside me, Simon.” You’re begging, almost pleading, and Simon will happily oblige.
Gently, Simon releases you from his hold, only to press you into the position he wants. You’re flat on your stomach as Simon runs his hands up and down your back. It’s a soothing gesture, but it’s mostly to comfort you than him.
Simon is burning beneath his skin. He desperately wants to be inside you, but he also knows that he’s exhausted you, and while you’re not entirely satiated, he doesn’t want you to push it.
His hands fall upon your hips. Simon eases them up a bit, urging your thighs apart with his knees. You comply, and the obedience is delicious to him. You’re demanding—full of fire—and yet for him, you’re melting before his eyes. It’s so different from the Locker Room and from your office.
Slowly, Simon drapes himself over you, flexing his hips back to line the head of his cock up to your entrance. The moment he starts to push in, you groan loudly, body starting to lift from the bed. But Simon relaxes his weight, trapping you beneath him. He props himself up on his left elbow and forearm. While is other hand pressed into the bed next to your waist.
There is no escape. You cannot wiggle out from under him or even buck against him. Simon likes it like this. Like you beneath him. Likes you sweaty. Panting. Begging.
Simon retreats and thrusts forward, sliding in to the hilt. Even now, you’re so fucking tight it’s smashing his brain into mush. He needs to fucking control himself, to make this pleasurable for you as much as it is for him.
He starts slow, finding a rhythm that has you moaning in just the way he likes. It’s almost a tell. Even now, Simon is reading your signals.
Simon brushes his lips against the curve of your shoulder. His tongue darts out to taste the salt. “You’ve been so good for me,” he murmurs. “Taking me well all night.”
“Simon,” you groan as he hits that sweet spot.
Simon grins against your shoulder blade. His hand slips from the bed to slide underneath your body. With each stroke, Simon stimulates your clit. He doesn’t change pace. He knows better. Soon you’re melting. Shaking. Each breath of yours quickening until it’s a guttural groan that even has Simon questioning his sanity.
You vibrate and shake. There is victory on Simon’s tongue. He slips his hand from beneath your body only to tangle it in your hair. He holds firm and then he rocks his hips faster, grunting his own need out above you until his lower-half tenses, and then he’s gasping, his release flooding your pussy.
Simon almost collapses.
He is worn out. Fucking tired. How many times have the two of you fucked tonight? At least five. And this might just be the last of the evening.
Simon runs his hand over your hip and waist only to dip to your stomach. With one fluid motion, Simon curls onto his side, bringing you to rest against his chest. Brushing your hair out of face, Simon kisses a trail from the curve of your shoulder to your lips.
You greet him with a smile.
Simon’s hand roams upward, only to lightly wrap around the front of your neck. You do not protest or push back at this, and something primal within Simon awakens.
This is not a one-time thing for him. You are his, and if that means he needs to mark his territory, he fucking will. Any man at work that even looks at your wrong is dead.
Well—not dead. But Simon will make damn sure they know to back the fuck off.
You’re his. Even if you haven’t agreed. Even if you haven’t decided anything.
You are not walking away.
This isn’t over.
taglist:
@km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath @sapphichotmess
@saoirse06 @haven-1307 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @lialacleaf
@unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower
@sageyxbabey @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @umno-yeah
@mudisgranapat @ninman82 @webmvie @blackhawkfanatic @contractedcriteria
@talooolaaloolla @rogerrhqpsody @sadlonelybagel @cinnabeanz @aykxz98
@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @daemondoll @iloveslasher @yawning-grave81
@voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @azkza @ash-tarte @sammysinger04
@certainlygay @soapyreaper @hantheconqueror @dakotakazansky @jaggersinclair
@suhmie @kidd3ath @lovely-ateez @marispunk
Simon Riley fucking you like this, Simon Riley fucking you like that… okay, buy what about Simon Riley making love to you.
He can be a kind person sometimes. Just imagine it. Missionary position and soft thrusts and him moaning in a low tone. He would say that you’re so perfect and gorgeous, how long has he waited to have you like this…
He is a normal human being, he would like to experience pleasure like all of us. Some days it can be gentle and sweet and some other days he would fuck like it’s his last day on earth.
Just some intrusive thoughts I had, I dislike almost all of the hard porn about ghost in here.
Blonde Simon oh my 🥹🥹🥹💘💘
SAMANTHA IS GORGEOUS!!!
STOP TORMENTING MY MAN YOU ASSHOLE
A GHOST'S TALE: "THE BETTER DEMONS OF OUR NATURE"
PART — 1, 2, 3, 4 .
I think I found the real Simon on instagram…
HOLY SHIT-- IM GOING FERAL!!! I just binged this entire thing and honestly all I'm thinking is I don't care how ugly this bastard is, I WANT HIM TO ABSOLUTELY DEMOLISH MY BACK, FUCK ME TILL I CANT WALK SIR.
PLEASE SIR
Sick <3
Zombie!Ghost x Survivor You ☢️🖤
Part 7: Ghost goes hunting. You both cross a line…oral M2F, he’s very dead, but so are you without him…
When you struggle downstairs, there’s a little bunch of wild flowers on the table. Blue and white, they looks so pretty, sat in a small vase.
“Oh you didn’t have to do that!”
You’re vaguely embarrassed about your clinginess. After all, Ghost has it worse. He’s dead and you’re still alive, what have you got to complain about realistically.
His white, clouded eyes alight on your smiling face, watching the happiness in your gaze as you take in his small gift. God it just makes him wild, how vividly perfect you are, all bright cheer and warm smiles.
Si’s voice coughs in his head, encouraging him to respond normally. Or as normally as possible.
So he grunts, spreading his long fingers over the table top, in what he hopes is a casual gesture.
You start to look through the cupboards. Most of it is out of date, but you manage to find a tin of beans hidden away in a dark corner.
Beans are not your favourite, but it is what it is.
Ghost watches you eating them out of the can with a spoon. You’ll need supplies, if you’re going to stay here. He huffs to get your attention, then stands up.
“Where are you going?” You ask him, through a mouth full of sickly tomato sauce.
Ghost tilts his head, like he wants to ask you to stop being so nosey, then trudges out at his odd rolling pace.
“When you get back you need a bath!” You shout at him, watching his departing shoulders roll with indignation.
After almost an entire day to yourself, you start to get restless. You feel slightly exposed without Ghost at your side, even though he doesn’t talk. You’ve been through so much together in the short time since you met.
When he finally rocks up, looking like a packhorse with various scrounged items of long life food and materials, you fight the urge to give him a hug.
There’s an odd moment between you, where you get halfway to flinging your arms around him and he awkwardly drifts closer. Then you pretend you were just going to help him with the goods.
Ghost presents you with a box of English teabags, like they’re a treasure, then settles down to look at an ancient map. It’s so old, the corners are yellow, he’s obviously stolen it from a picture frame somewhere.
Later, you wake to find the bed empty.
You’re dripping with slick, cunt aching. Since your nasty bite, it’s happened almost every night.
You’ve been having rabid dreams. Mainly centring around the man who’s now become central to your life. Even in your sleeping mind he’s cold, but it doesn’t scare you.
Quite the opposite.
Ghost sticks to you so closely most of the time, you might not get another chance in the near future.
Carefully, you move your shorts down and slip one hand under your panties. God it feels good, slow fingers massaging your swollen clit, cream leaking over your thighs.
You arch slightly off the bed, squirming under your own touch. Your knees drift apart, allowing more access, as you dip into your honeyed centre.
A tiny moan escapes your lips.
Ghost, in the woods behind the house, hears it.
Suddenly he’s out of control entirely, almost as badly as when he first turned. Every sinew is crying out, a clamouring chorus of want.
So much desire it’s painful, raking through his nearly empty veins and crippling any coherent thought.
Saliva starts to drop onto his tactical vest, fuelled by the smell of your dripping sex carried on the evening air.
Si’s voice is lost under the sound of your fingers touching that hot core. Without hesitation, his feet are carrying him back to the house, and there’s no way on earth he can stop them.
It’s carnal, his need to touch you, feel your wetness on his blue tinged fingers. His limp jaw lets groans and growls sputter freely from his throat.
He’s up the stairs and standing in your doorway in seconds. The heady smell of you is so potent, it feels like it’s scorching his icy skin.
You’re spread out so pretty, glistening as your hands work furiously.
Ghost’s shadow falls over the bed, utterly transfixed by the sight of you pleasuring yourself.
“Get out!” You shout at him, closing your legs and wriggling backwards. Your cheeks are glowing with embarrassment, as you chuck pillows at his frozen form.
But Ghost lets out a snarl unlike anything you’ve ever heard before, wrenching your knees apart and inhaling, like he’s taking his first breath after almost drowning.
His empty lungs expand with the scent of you. You try and kick him in the face, but he’s way too quick. Dragging your struggling form close to him.
“Stop it!” You whine, as the friction of the sheets beneath you rubs against your leaking pussy.
Eyes glassy, he holds you tight, jaw moving violently.
“Please!” The word is half formed, dry and hard forced out of his drooling mouth, not helped by his fractured face.
It’s frighteningly coherent though, a plea. His body is pulsing with electricity and you can feel it zapping against your skin. Something, very deep inside you, calls out to him on an unfamiliar level.
You stop struggling. Each of you just staring at the other.
“Please.” He begs again. “Please!”
He looks feral, more inhuman than ever, snow coloured eyes wild. But you don’t care. Your brain right now only wants one thing.
Him.
Heart pounding violently, you spread your legs.
Ghost, Si and the virus, all force him onto his knees in front of you, hands pressed into the mattress as his tongue darts out.
He starts to lap at you, drinking your nectar with savage energy. You squirm and writhe, as his chilled breath sends you hurtling towards an orgasm.
A cool drink on a hot day, his mouth calms the raging ache you’ve been dealing with for days.
Simon can’t remember the last time he ate pussy, but there’s no way on earth it was like this. It satisfies him, in a way that nothing else can or ever will. Even the tang of blood loses its lustre in comparison to your sweet surrender.
You’re panting, hands moving to his head to touch some part of him and ground yourself. Messily he circles your bud, flicking and kissing it until you can barely see straight.
As your fingertips caress his scalp, Ghost moans throatily, like he’s never felt anything like it. So you do it again, until the vibration of his voice snaps the tight coil building in your stomach.
When you cry out under his broken mouth, you gush. It’s like the most potent drug. Ghosts fingers drag through your folds, making you gasp with the chilling sensation of his pulseless digits.
“Please.” He slurs over and over again between your legs, revelling in the fact he can say a word. His broad tongue moves inside you, a stream of spit and your first release making the bed covers damp.
Ghosts hands press your own around his face, willing you to keep touching him. So soft and gentle, you feel the harsh line of what must have once been a strong jaw.
Feet resting on his back, he pulls more orgasms from your trembling body, inhaling them and savouring every whimper leaving your mouth.
He only stops eating you out, when you start to sob in earnest. So overstimulated it’s painful. The sound of your weeping, is like a brisk slap in the face.
Gradually Si’s voice starts battling through the lustful roar of the virus.
Shit.
You’ve both crossed a line, that can never be stepped back from.
Tags: @ashy-kit @cutiecusp @deadmarygolds @redbleedingrose @dustycrusty09 @darkangel4121 @smexysarah @cmbghost @silly-norman @sigrid666 @pxssygxblin @spicyspicyliving @itsyaboinoah-blog @misshugs @murder-hobo @sobbingnshtting
Not to force my music down your throats but this song is in my top ten forever
I just realized this is literally just Simon Riley. Now I'm thinking about Roman soldier/gladiator Simon Riley, affectionately called ghost, meeting a beautiful woman, you, and then it proceeds to jaw dropping, feral, dirty sex. Then you become his pretty pretty wife. 😚😚🤭🤭🤭
Went to the Midwest horse fair and saw some cool horses, but most of all I found the sexiest man alive 🥵
I tried to get good pictures but they weren't the best, but like my God, he's so fucking hot.
Mask link go brrrrr 😩😩😩
Am I gonna have to write cod fanfiction now??? 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤭🤭🤭 let me what you guys think
Went to the Midwest horse fair and saw some cool horses, but most of all I found the sexiest man alive 🥵
I tried to get good pictures but they weren't the best, but like my God, he's so fucking hot.
Mask link go brrrrr 😩😩😩
I have never been more tuned on and in love with a fic than I am right now. This is not fair. I deserve someone like this 😭😭😭😭😭 no I need someone like this. Anyone have any recommendations where to find a man like this
MY BODY AND MY BLOOD
or, there's only one bed. mdni.
Winter came early, earlier than it should have, before the heat could kick in throughout the middle of nowhere base somewhere in Russia. The day of travel weighed heavily on your shoulders, exhaustion seeking into your bones. You wanted nothing more than a shower and to fall into bed and sleep for the next week.
The universe, unfortunately, had other plans.
"Right," Price sighed, "barracks are full, we've got to share." His eyebrows furrowed as groans arose from Soap and Gaz, "can it, lads. You two are together, get used to it." Soap rolled his eyes dramatically, yelping as Gaz elbowed him in the side.
"You two," Price sighs, pointing at you and Ghost, "you'll be together. Rooms 142 and 143, don't care who gets who. Just show up tomorrow." You could feel Ghost behind you, hovering like some gargantuan bat. Oh god. You were going to have to share a room with him.
You're both quiet as the team heads down the hallway, Gaz and Soap's banter loud enough for the both of you. Price dismisses you with a gruff goodnight, all too eager to lock himself in his room.
"This is us." Ghost's timbre catches you off guard, and you start, head whipping over your shoulder. The lines around his eyes crinkle, or at least, you think they do, behind the mask and the paint.
"Sorry," he mutters, bowing his head, "didn't mean to scare ya, love."
Love. The nickname, however insignificant, paints your face with a flush. You try to hide it by pushing the door to your shared room open.
It's tiny, with a cramped bathroom attached by the foot of the bed. The only bed. Shit.
You laugh, a hollow, humorless laugh, the culmination of exhaustion and frustration and longing. Ghost groans, burying his head in his hands.
"I'll take the floor," he sighs, but you cut him off immediately.
"No, I'll take the floor. Where would you even fit on the floor? There's not enough floor to fit you," you snap back. Ghost glowers at you through his mask.
"You'll catch your death on the floor," he fires at you, crossing his arms over his chest. A draft blows through the room, as if to echo his point.
"At least I'll fit on the floor," you counter, mimicking his crossed arms. He stares you down, biting his lip as you stare him down right back.
"Fine," he says shortly, "we'll share. Pillow wall work for you?" You nod, moving to arrange the pillows down the bed, trying to quell the excitement brewing in your stomach. You are colleges. This is strictly professional.
You can't help but let your eyes catch on him as he strips his vest and gear, until he's left in thermal underclothes and his balaclava, fingers hesitating at the hem.
"I won't look. If you want to take it off," you offer. He snorts, toying with the fabric.
"Wouldn't work. Besides, you've seen me before. After the grenade," he reminds you, wincing as he pulls his mask off.
He's just as beautiful as you remembered, all soft hazel eyes and sharp, angular cheekbones. His buzzcut has grown out since the last time you saw him, just on the verge of being unkempt. You're staring, and he knows you're staring, but he lets you, throwing his head back with a groan. His neck arches beautifully, and you want to cover it with marks.
You're quick to shed your own gear, trying to look anywhere but his face, but you feel his eyes linger on the arc of your shoulders, the hollow of your neck, the curve of your hips. You climb under the thin blankets, curling as far away from Ghost's side as he turns the lights out.
The bed squeaks as he lays down, adjusting the pillows. He's so big he takes up all of his side and almost part of yours. He moves his legs and they brush against your knee.
"Sorry," he mutters, pulling his calf away like it had been burned. Sparks tingle up your legs.
"'S fine, Ghost," you murmur back. The bed squeaks again as he rolls over to face you, head on the pillow just inches from yours. You want to kiss him. He's so close.
"Do you remember what I told you? After the grenade?" he asks. You nod, but stay quiet as he sighs softly. His hand twitches, like he wanted to reach out for you but stopped himself.
"When it's like this," he breathes, his voice sweet, "when it's just you and me, it's Simon. Call me Simon." He's so soft, in a way you've never seen him before, and you nod, moving ever so close to him.
"Alright," you breathe, "goodnight, Simon."
"G'night, sweetheart."
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
When you wake, it's freezing. Ghost- Simon- is snoring next to you, heat radiating off of him like a goddamn furnace. You curl your body into itself, but shivers rack your shoulders anyway. You groan in frustration, glaring up at the ceiling.
Simon stirs next to you, rolling over groggily. His arm brushes against yours, and he winces, thumb brushing over the skin.
"You're freezing," he whispers, cupping your hand in both of his. Your arc towards him, relishing in the warmth that emanated from him, and he smiles, soft and sweet.
"I'm fine," you mutter, "go back to sleep." You prop yourself up on one elbow, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"Don't be stupid," Simon breathes, "come here. I've got enough warmth for the both of us."
You shove the pillow wall aside so fast it makes Simon chuckle as pillows hit the floor. He wraps his arms around you, pressing your back to his chest, hitching a leg over your hip. He's so warm, heat surrounding you on every side as he tucks his head into the hollow of your shoulder.
His hands rest on your stomach, thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your stomach where your shirt has slid up. You wrap your arms around his, holding them to your chest. He feels safe.
"Better?" Simon asks, pulling you closer to his chest. You nod, sleep already creeping over you as you feel him smile against your neck. His thumb rubs soothing patterns on your skin as you slowly drift to sleep.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
When you wake again, it's still dark. You're facing Simon, clinging to one of his arms with your head buried in his chest. He's rubbing your back, and as you look up at him, his eyes are open.
"What time is it?" you whisper, stretching slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck. He glances down at his watch, toying his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Five thirty-seven," he responds, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, tracing your cheek and cupping it in his callused hand. Your eyes flick down to his lips and back again.
"Simon-"
"Can I kiss you?" His voice is ragged with desperation, pupils blown wide. With a soft gasp, you nod.
"Please."
He kisses you softly, tenderly. You pull him closer, hands interlocking at the back of his neck, one trailing down to his cheek. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours as he catches his breath.
"Oh," he breathes, almost against your lips. He pushes himself up against the headboard, a spark growing in his eyes as he pulls you into his lap.
His second kiss is desperate, his teeth sinking into your lower lip, hands tangling in your hair. You arch in his grip as his hands drift to bracket your hips, your body flushing as he pulls you even closer. Your nails dig into his back and he moans against your lips, you crave the feeling of his bare skin against your fingers even though the cold prohibited it.
You gasp softly as Simon slides his thigh between your legs, cheeks flushed as he takes you in between kisses. His hands are greedy, one slipping dangerously low on your hips before slipping past the waistband of your thermal pants.
"Can I?" he asks quietly, looking up at you from where you're perched on his thigh. His pupils are completely blown, hair messy and cheeks flushed. He looks halfway to heaven and all he's done is kiss you.
"Oh, god, please-" you breathe, burying your head in his shoulder as his hands slides down, spreading you open as well as he could before his thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles against it. You cling to his shoulders, teeth biting down on his shoulder to stifle your moans. Simon gasps, hands moving your hips to help you grind against his thigh.
"There you go," he whispers, head thrown back as you rub against him, "there you go, lovie, that's it." You whine, rutting your hips harder at his praise. His free hand dips underneath your shirt, crawling up your ribs.
"Si- si, feels so good," you moan, biting on your lip to try to keep your moans down. Simon cups your breast tenderly, pushing your top up your chest.
"Fuck, you're so gorgeous, angel," Simon swears. His lips trail down your neck, resting just above your nipple. His mouth rests open, tongue heavy on his lower teeth as the question forms on his lips.
"Sweetheart, can I-"
Three knocks echo on the door, and you jump, loosing your balance and almost colliding with the bedpost as you scramble to get off Simon's lap. Simon desperately adjusts his pants, trying to hide his raging hard on as Price swings the door open.
"Ghost, you're needed down in command," he orders, and Simon's head falls backwards imperceptibly as he pushes himself off the bed, pushing his feet into his boots. As he follows Price out the door, he makes eye contact with you, slipping his fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back as he licks your slick off of them. He winks as he walks around the corner, mouthing
this isn't over.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
school is over and my requests deleted themselves somehow so if you've got ideas pls send them
Imagine a Dog!hybrid!reader with human 141, so shes like an anomaly in a mostly human world. She's a doberman hybrid, like ghost she always has a ski mask on. Her eyes are visible, no matter what your eye color is reader has piercing amber eyes, (because of her being a dog hybrid, the only doberman that can have blue eyes different than the range of browns is the albino and I don't support the breeding of that gene) I'm imagining that she was a lab experiment and was found as a kid, found by some higher up that can keep her secret classified. I like the idea of Laswell finding her and just deciding to adopt her. She learns her ticks and tricks easily enough. And reader doesnt really have any visible "dog" features other than her ears, tail, and teeth. Her claws grow a little faster and pointyier than regular humans nails. But like just imagine...
Doberman hybrid!reader needing to have a job at all times, being a working dog she gets antsy and destructive if she's understimulated. Laswell figures that out very early on after a shirt gets chewed up and has to be thrown away.
Doberman hybrid! Reader having hand puzzles and fidget toys on hand at all times to keep her stimulated.
Doberman hybrid! Reader that does laps around base when she's not on a mission. Or she's carrying around extra weight while she does mundane things so she feels useful.
Doberman hybrid! Reader that always waits for instructions before doing anything
Doberman hybrid! Reader that wags the tiny stump of a tail, that hides in her pants, anytime she gets praised, her body immediately relaxes when laswell calls her, her good girl. This gets worse once she meets and starts going with the 141.
Doberman hybrid! Reader that calls laswell mom or mama when they are alone.
Doberman hybrid! Reader that loves head/chin scratches.
Doberman hybrid! reader that wears a ski mask and helmet at all times to hide her ears.
Doberman hybrid! reader that is called anubis around base, most don't even know why they just heard it one day and went with it
Doberman hybrid! reader that has canines that grew in when she was 10 ish, she was teething and had to have so many chew things to help
Doberman hybrid! reader who doesn't really have a heat or period, more like a mixture of the two, it's not as often as a period but not as long as a heat cycle. Reader nests during her cycle and is a little bit more horny than usual. She gets very clingy during this time as well.
When she meets the 141, I imagine it's because some dumbass higher up said that laswell and reader couldn't work together anymore because they are mom and daughter. Even though anyone that knows about r's condition knows the reason they work together is because of r's condition. Like any work dog she needs a knowledgeable handler. When they meet her, they're all intrigued. She's quiet and does everything laswell says without complaint. For this specific reader I think ghost and soap would take one look at her eyes and immediately stake a claim silently. Soap is a bit more vocal about it in subtle ways, ghost is just looming and quiet, but if you know him well enough, like the 141, you can see the possession flickering in his eyes. The only thing is reader wants nothing to do with any of them. When they go on their mission, reader is a little lost, she waits for orders like the good girl she is and price starts getting frustrated with this, he's used to his boys knowing exactly what needs to get done without asking even though for certain reasons he still voices his needs for missions. He tries to understand because she's new to the team but he can't seem to. Eventually he blows up at reader, she cowers and gets that guilty look in her eye even though she didn't do anything wrong per say. Ghost clenched his gun tightly not like the tone price was using, soap was a little less subtle with his anger, he glared a hole into prices head. Gaz tried to get the captain to back and eventually he did but the damage had been done. Soap tried to talk to reader but it wasn't much use. Once they got back to base, reader immediately goes to laswells office, wanting to be comforted by her person. Laswell was beyond pissed when she heard what happened and marched down to John's office to tell him right off. Angry mama bear mode activated. After a few more missions (over a few months), laswell tells the boys what reader is, like maybe they are on a mission and at their safe house. Reader is asleep in a hoodie and a mask. They don't believe her at first untill reader wakes up from a nightmare crying and freaks so she rips her mask off, ears pinned back. Laswell goes over and holds her telling her mama is here. When she falls back asleep, she sets her back down against her bed and gives her a spare t-shirt cause hybrid!reader has a sensitive nose and a comforting scent will help her. Ghost and soap test this later down the road while on mission, they grab an old t-shirt of theirs and give it to asleep reader. She cuddles it and eventually sticks it in her mouth unknowingly, she doesn't chew on it. Laswell taught her better than that, she just let's it sit in her teeth. Once johnny and Simon have her as their girlfriend she just stuffs whatever t-shirt they're wearing to bed, or maybe even fingers (as long as they are clean.)in her mouth when they settle in for the night. Eventually when she moves out of Laswells house and into the boy's she's now going to have to get used to not being the only dog in the house. Riley at first doesn't know how to react to this strange woman that smells of Dog in his home. Reader doesn't know how to act around a dog, the dogs at base usually didn't like her. But eventually they become best friends. She's able to understand what Riley needs most of the time and when they both get antsy they take runs together. Simon's a little mad that his dog stole his girl but he makes her feel better so he guesses its alright. Once they retire, reader doesn't get as antsy anymore mainly because she's stimulated, even if she's not working anymore. She still has her moments but with Simon, Johnny, and Riley all in her life she's got plenty of things to keep her occupied. Even more so if she has some smaller pups running around if you know what I mean... 😏