#celestialsun888: fanfic

[celestialsun888]

Watching You.

@celestialsun888

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Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!Reader

Genre: smut/ dark romance [18+ MDNI]

Word Count: 2.9k

Synopsis: Some Written from his POV! Simon wonders how you're doing since you two have split and your refusal to speak to him makes him take matters into his own hands.

★ TW: HEAVY DUB CON, STALKING AND OBSESSION! SO PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION! Vulgar language, degradation, forced submission/sex, size kink (ofc), Knife AND gun play, Voyeurism? He gets off to you without you knowing, possession, slight marking, He's really sadistic fr, Primal x Prey (kinda…), Rough sex, humiliation, shoe grinding, YOU vibes ong, ITALICS ARE INNER MONOLOGUE (Let me know if I’ve missed any!)

✒ Authors Note: I've had this on my mind, like he seems so scary and brooding but I wrote him genuinely psychotic and very obsessive. So please take the TWs seriously! This is also barely proof read.... so sorry if there are mistakes!

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❥ Simon's POV

Look at you. Getting your usual coffee before you head to work, sweetly, innocently, saying hello to strangers. I can tell from the cup it’s your usual: vanilla chai tea latte, extra vanilla. Sweet. Sweet like you. So sweet to everyone, but me… Refusing to see me since our breakup, cutting off any and all ties with me. God you are so devilishly cruel.

Standing far enough to go unnoticed, you watched her, sipping your own drink to blend in, meshing with the busy city. Your all black outfit concealed you even more, simply just a passing shadow. You leaned against the brick wall across the street from where she walked, eyes devouring her precious frame. Every morning the same, her routine burned into your mind. Such an accursed pleasure to look forward to each day. Just watching her. Such a detestable indulgence.

7:43 am.

She floated through the busy streets of downtown, occasionally checking the time to make sure she was on schedule.

You chose to wear loose slacks today. Interesting. But that top, mmm. You groan to yourself. That top hugging your body like that. Can you wear that to work? Showing off your plump breasts, cleavage spilling out…you're such a filthy little girl. Who are you dressing for if not me? … It should be me.

You took another sip of your drink, squirming slightly from the perverted and sadistic thoughts that filled your already tainted mind. As she started to walk out of your field of vision, you started to walk with her, slightly slower than her pace. Walking carefully on the opposite side of the street, suppressing your demeanor slightly to adapt to the regular civilians. Broad and tall frame slipping through waves of people, eyes penetrating her as your gaze shifted above them. As you catch up, she stops in front of an older woman.

7:47 am.

You're reading their expressions, a little too far to accurately read their lips.

God, her lips. So soft and plump, the way they felt when she would tease me, sticking her tongue into my mouth. My cock slipping in between her precious lips, watching my cum glissglade out of her mouth. Being so sloppy and sinful. The same lips that let beautiful, gluttonous moans slip from them, my sweet princess, calling out my name. ‘Simon…fuck me just like that..’ Dripping with defiled innocence, just for me. Fuck.

You tried to remain focused on her currently, though, the temptations of the past, the time you two had spent together, drove you mad. Sentiments of arousal making its throughout your body, trying your best to contain the consequences of your demented perversion. You never thought that your love for her would slip so deeply into obsession, the budding feelings growing even while she was yours. But when she left, you realized that no one can have her if it's not you. Even if she hated you, even if she went on to marry someone else, she would never get rid of you. Not until you said so.

7:53 am.

You’re gonna be late doll. C’mon hurry up.

She continued on, you not caring what the silly interaction was about, her pace fervently making up for lost time.

7:57 am.

She anxiously enters the large building where she worked, disappearing behind the sliding glass doors. Just in time.

You made your way back to your car, planning out time until she was done. Waiting to see her again.

You pulled out your phone, clicking on your photo albums eventually settling on one that said: ‘her’. Scrolling through pictures upon pictures of your twisted obsession. Her at the gym. Her walking to and from work. Pictures of her sleeping, barely any clothes on. Her through her balcony window. Her from her closet. She consumed your thoughts as your hand unbuckled your pants, slowly palming your throbbing length through your underwear.

So precious, so divine.

Your lips wet from your tongue trailing over them, biting your lower lip to strain against the urges of indecency. Your fingers stop on a video of you brooding over her as she sleeps, touching yourself hearing her gentle breath rise and fall as you stand there in the dark. Wanting so bad to moan, almost even begging her to catch you in such a vile and horrendous act.

Your hands start stroking your thick shaft, already hard from your lewd fantasies.

Oh, my sweet angel. Why do you want to leave me like this? A needy mess, only having remnants of videos and pictures of you? How you manage to get me so excited I'm unsure, maybe just knowing you have forgotten about me, yet I still cum moaning out for you, fills me with pleasure. Maybe I enjoy the thought of scaring you as you catch me whoring myself out just for you.

Thoughts consumed with thick and prevalent perversion. You edge closer to your orgasm. Scanning over pictures and videos of her, innocent or not, as you pump harder and harder. You love your depravity. How she does nothing, yet every part of her being fucks you up. You start to become careless, bucking your hips up, car shifting slightly from the weight of your frame. Your head falling back in the crux of the head seat, spreading your thighs, preparing for your orgasm. Your balls tighten and your vision blurs as you cum: thick ropes of semen painting over your seat, phone catching drips of your release as you continue to stroke yourself through it, milking out every drop. Your cock twitched and throbbed as you wiped your stained hand on your pants, chest falling deeply allowing time for your foggy thoughts to lift.

“Fuck…” you moan exasperated.

Your thoughts swirled as you tucked your sensitive dick back into your fouled pants. And then, you thought, something so sick and demented.

I have to make her mine.

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❥ Y/N POV

You slipped off your shoes right as you entered your apartment. You gave a large stretch before throwing your keys onto the kitchen island and flicking on the lights.

What a day.

You trailed to your room as you let out a defeated sigh, eager to cuddle up in bed and release the tension from the day. Reaching for the handle you notice your door ever so slightly open.

I could’ve sworn I shut it tight this morning?

Perhaps it was a simple slip up? You chucked it up to human error but you still steadily walked into your room. There was a presence that felt…odd? Not normal? You clicked on the light, illuminating your space, scanning over it to see if anything was out of place. Everything seems fine.

Suppressing your feelings of irrational thought you began to strip, undressing from your work clothes. Inching your slacks down your thighs and having them fall to the ground revealing your bare ass, nicely adorned with skimpy panties. You lifted your shirt over your head, nipples hardening through your matching bra from the colder draft. As your shirt falls to the floor, awaiting to be picked up and placed away, you hear the wooden floor creak. You halt.

You felt the rug that rested against your toes burn into you. You didn’t move. There is no way your floor boards would creak as you barely moved on the rug, centered in your room. The tension in your chest encouraged your heart rate to speed up, your chest feeling like it couldn't contain your heartbeats. Nervousness washed over you as you turned to your closet, slightly ajar. The silence was so loud, ears picking up dead air. You held your breath as you inched towards it as calmly as possible. You jerk the door open to find nothing.

Oh my gosh what the fuck is with me?

A relief sets over you as you step back, still refusing to look away from it, just in case. Your clumsy footing however, causes you to catch on your clothes that piled on the floor. Falling on your back, you recoil to sit up enough to set your eyes back on your closet. Just in case.

“Stupid clothes,” you murmur to the air. That's when you feel it. The presence. Something staring into you, intensely watching you.

It's been watching you.

Your mouth slightly hangs open as you let out shaky breaths. You turn to your bed that stood to the right of you, aligned perfectly to see underneath. Past the slightly disheveled comforter you see the whites of eyes staring at you through the darkness. Pitch black pupils matching the mysterious ambiance. A heavier breath escapes from the abyss.

Startled, you scramble towards the wall across from the darkness as the eyes start to come from under the bed. The skull mask covering the figures face, all except those hollow eyes.

“S-simon,” you sputter, “W-hat are you doing here?” Your voice growing more anxious and scared. His big frame arched from under the bed as he crawled towards you. His eyes never parting from you.

You reached your arm along the wall you were backed into, reaching desperately for the door handle for both escape and support in standing, your fear tempting to paralyze you. Thick calloused hands snatched at your ankles, dragging you to him, fingertips just missing the door. His dark and evil gaze lighting up as he traced over your half naked body.

“Shhhh, shhh, angel” He cooed detestably, sinking his body into yours, “Let's make this as easy as possible.” You fought against his sick advances. Pushing your fingers into his face as he tried to kiss you, legs trapped over his thighs as he sat on his knees. Your back bowing from being so much smaller than him. You tried to bring in your knees to cut off his access to you but his bearish arms held you in place. Your weak protests offer no solace from him.

“Simon!” you yelp petrified, “Why!? Why are you doing this!?” His eyes showed no remorse for his actions. His hand trailed roughly over your body, scraping innocence off of you as he went. Your body continued to squirm getting away from his grasp a little, almost as if he let you. You finally broke free, crawling back to the door as he drew you in again, this time not holding you down. He slams the door shut and locks it. Knowing that getting away would take longer, knowing that he would be able to get to you sooner.

“Behave!” His voice thick and callous. You refused to listen, tears streaming from your eyes as you were dragged into him once more. Body feeling the hard floor grate against your back. His hefty palm gripped your face, nearly engulfing it completely. His other hand reached to his hip pulling out his loaded hand gun. Placing it under your chin, the cold steel meets with your soft, warm skin. Salty streams continued to sprinkle from your eyes, his face drawing into yours. Your cries and pleads meaning absolutely nothing to him. His breath hot on your cheek as his thick tongue came to meet your bitter tears, licking them away sadistically. His gun digging more into your jaw.

“Oh baby, you sweet sweet angel,” You wince at his words, “be good for me, take it. Nice and easy and we won't have a problem.” He glances at the gun and back at you.

"Don't make me hurt you sweetheart." He shakes the weapon disturbingly. He slowly moves the gun down your chest making circles along the way, trailing to your tummy, the loaded gun flirting with you.

His pants already bulging from the rush of adrenaline, he teases his gun onto your pussy, edging it over your panties. Wetness dampening the barrel.

"Your a dirty bitch. You like me playing with your cunt like this?" You try and squirm away again from his harassment. You see him place his gun back on his hip, snickering to himself. Using both hands to lift you from the ground with him he grabs the hair at the nape of your neck, fingers tugging it violently. His body blocking any form of escape from him. You reach for your head, trying to ease the firm grasp he has on you. He forces you towards the bed, burying you into it. Ass facing him, tippy toes barely touching the ground. His heavy hand continues to push you into the mattress, you hear a pocket knife flip open.

"P-lease.." you try and convey through mousy sobs.

The cold metal dragging along your thighs causes you to shudder in fear. The tip of his blade gently applies pressure to the skin of your ass.

“Should I mark you as mine, princess?” His tone was mockingly threatening. “A nice little S.R. right here. Letting everyone know that you once, and will always be mine.” His knife drawing circles around the designated spot, teasing the soft, untainted skin. Your muffled cries seep into the mattress, fearing he would follow through. His hand, tangled in your hair, pulls you up. Ass meeting his crotch vigorously, forcing your neck to tilt back for him, his eyes watching over you. Your innocent eyes were stained with despair. He continued his sadistic taunting, grazing his knife up the front of your hips, watching your tummy undulate from your heavy breathing. You didn't know if begging him to stop would edge him to actually do it so you kept your mouth shut.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” He sighed into your neck. Teeth biting into your flesh, eyes watching his hand guide the knife along you from over your shoulder. The blade stopped at the band of your underwear, teasing the fabric with the sharp tip. You felt him buck his hips into you, slowly grinding his erection into your ass. Sick fuck.

Stringing along fucked up phrases that made you feel him more and more, harder and harder. You could tell his teasing wanted relief, he was getting desperate to fuck you.

"Why Simon, why...why are you doing this?" You plead, hoping some form of humanity would come back to him.

"Oh, my love, you taunt me, watching you act like I no longer exist to you. I just needed to remind you how fucking real this is. I haven't been able to stop thinking about your lewd body, fucking my hand, just thinking about you, isn't good enough anymore." His knife grazing lightly over your clothed clit, tapping the blade over your sensitive lips. He inched it back to your waist band, irritating the gentle fabric.

“Slutty fuckin’ girl. I need to be inside you.” His knife cutting the fabric to your panties. Your bare cunt exposed. The knife shifted in his hand now resting within his pinky, ring and middle fingers allowing for his index and thumb to be free. He rubbed his index finger along your slit, feeling the heat pool, your wetness glistening on his digit. The pleasure he gave to you didnt last long as he saw you were wet enough.

He placed his knife away grabbing your hips, forcing you to bend over for him. Tear stained cheeks buried in the covers. The sound of his zipper coming undone made you whimper, you knew he was going to be rough with you. Even when you two dated he was hard to take and it usually took a while for him to prep you. You knew he was going to be unrelenting.

“Fuck” he exclaimed salaciously as he slammed his fat cock into you, feeling his half opened pants poking along your ass and thighs. You were full: his thick girth stretching you out over him. You struggled to remain calm as your hole tightened from his abrasive advance, back arching to elicit a choked out yelp. Your knees threatened to buckle under you but his hand offered support knowing your little pussy struggled to take all of him. His tense length started to move in and out of you, kissing your cervix. Heavy balls slapping against your puffy clit as you tried to take him. You gripped your comforter hard, digging your nails into the mattress. His strokes are erratic and aggressive.

“You look so pretty on the end of my cock, princess. I’ve waited long enough to have you. Don't cry, baby, it had to be like this. I couldn't hold back any longer.” His tone matching the roughness of his strokes. Your helpless cries being drowned out by the lewd, squelching noises that came from your sloppy cunt. He continued to bully your hole, slapping your ass to add to your pain and his pleasure. Leaving bite marks along your delicate back and shoulders, holding the back of your neck down with his boorish hands, spilling heinous words into your ear. All while you took every inch of his cock.

You feel yourself getting close, tightening around him as he fucks you through your orgasm. Humiliated by your sexual arousal of his mistreatment. His obsessive possession. You feel him smiling through the mask that rubbed into your neck, his breath hot.

“You dirty, dirty little bitch, huh. Cumming on my cock as I take advantage of your fucking pussy? Maybe I should stalk you more, watch you while you undress for me. Touching myself in the dark of your room. You seem to fucking like it.” His own strokes became sloppier.

“S-s-simon,” you whimper, “P-please, I can’t take it.” You whine trying your best to think through the overstimulation. He continues his aggressive pace, knowing how sensitive you are.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know, I know,” he coos, offering false security. “Daddy’s almost done taking your cunt, just be fucking patient.” You feel his thick length start to throb inside you, signaling that he's close. Quickly pulling out of you, he forcefully guides you to the ground, stroking himself above you, face centered under his swollen tip.

He sees you squirm as you wait for him impatiently, your pussy convulsing around nothing. His thick boot meets your tender heat, allowing you to grind on it as he finds his own release, getting off on your depravity. Reaching in his back pocket of his unzipped pants he pulls out his phone and angles it towards you, still stroking his cock.

“Be a good fucking girl and look at the camera while I ruin you, sweetheart. I wanna have something nice and sweet to look back on. I’ll add it to the collection.” His voice became laced with abandonment. The slick sounds of his hand quickly stroking his length echo through the room as he groans. As swears leave his lips, he ejaculates his hot, white cum over you. Streams of his sticky semen drip from your face, covering you wickedly. Waves crashing over him as he finished his sick fantasy. His seed tainting you as you look up at him with empty eyes. His fucked out expression triggering the last few groans to release from him.

“Good, good girl.” He places his phone back into his pocket, zipping his pants. You stand to meet the large man, brooding over your delicate frame. You didn't know why he obsessed over you and why he would go through all the trouble. His thumb glides over the traces of his essence before slipping his thick digit into your mouth. His hand grabbed at your chin, tilting it up.

“You’re mine, forever.” You wince at his words trying your best to break from his grip. And with that he was gone, leaving you to revel in confusion and fear as to when he would be back.

[gvnwitchrxse]

🤤❤️‍🔥

Good ol’ Boy.

@celestialsun888

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Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!Reader

Genre: Filthy Smut! [+18 MDNI]

Word Count: 2.6k

Synopsis: Ghost pushes you just enough to see if you have it in you to top him.

★ TW: Bottom!Simon/ Top!Reader, heavy teasing, Simon being a little shit, size kink (ofc ofc), vulgar language, slight angst if you use binoculars, public sex, knife play, slight overstimulation, face sitting/riding (f!receiving), *slight* voyeurism, established relationship (more like fwb), he calls you mommy like once, (Let me know if I’ve missed any!)

✒ Authors Note: I had to bc the switch in me said so. Also: who doesn’t wanna hear him whimper? ;3 Also also, idk shit about MW2/ the military and all that, I am just hyper fixated on this man so if something isn't accurate pls spare me lol. This also isn't super proofread so if there are mistakes, shhh.

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Simon always had a way of getting under your skin. Knowing all the right buttons to push and saying all the right words that provoked you. 

You and Simon had been seeing each other casually a short while after you joined task force 141. He showed little restraint in making teasing passes at you during training, making the other members catch on quickly to you and the Lieutenants relationship. Soap even questioned you about it often, shelling out jokes he knew he couldn’t make around Ghost. 

You hated how Ghost just knew you so well, how observant he was. One small change and he knew it. 

“What’s with you today?” His husky voice questioned, taking off his gear and throwing it onto his bed. The room was small and cramped allowing little space for separation from his words. Thankful for a short break from training that allowed for little free time. His eyes followed your figure as you stripped yourself of your gear as well. Observing you intently. 

“Nothing.” You huffed. You remained focused on the floor, the walls. Anything but him. 

He hesitated from undressing, watching your demeanor stiffen as you felt his sharp gaze cut into your back. You didn't have to look at him to know, his presence was suffocating on its own. You knew when he watched you. The strangely gentle noise of his footsteps inched along the wooden floor, creaking with every step. Each step closer made you nervous to continue undressing, you kept your back to him avoiding any kind of contact. Rough, firm hands positioned themselves on your shoulder, gently tracing down to your wrists. He always managed to make you feel engulfed by him, his size taunting you. His chest was to your back as you felt his hot breath on the nape of your neck. The body heat and sweat that radiated off of him seeped into you, reiterating his stark presence. 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing?” The movement of his lips now grazing gently along the side of your neck sending chills that formed along your skin. You could tell he was trying his best to get it out of you and hoping to get lucky that it leads to more. He always starts with being gentle and kind until you give the signal that you want him in the worst possible ways. Everyone knew he was kinder to you, but they assumed it was only because he fucked you and he didn’t want to lose his precious toy in such desperate times. Even if it was true, you knew he had a sweet spot for you though he often tried to hide it.

That's how it went with Simon: Build you up, wash you in sweet divine praises, suffocate you with tension till you're needy for him, eventually forcing you to seek release with him as he makes you see heaven. But you hated how he always acted so… dominant. You wanted him needy, him to beg and whimper for you, though you would never say it. He always told you he enjoyed you playing the ‘innocent’ good girl for him, so you devotedly agreed. I mean what would he think? Would he laugh at you for being so little in comparison to him, not even able to possess a fraction of the strength he has, and wanting to…top him? The thought dissipated as he nestled his nose into your neck, his stubbly chin itching along your delicate skin. You shook him off trying to escape his rather sweet advances. He shifted his posture and stood with an offended acknowledgement. 

“The fuck is with you?” He threatens.

“Why do you tease me like that?” You say referring to his taunts earlier that day. You tried bubbling up any self respect you had. “Like–like,” you stutter, “like I'm just so much weaker than you. I am very capable, Simon.” 

His eyes followed you as you gave distance between you two, narrowing in on every word you spoke to him. Your tone sounds harsh and more aggressive. He let you go on, intrigued by your forwardness.

“You treat me like all I am to you is your submissive little doll that just does whatever you say. That you can just tease me and humiliate me for your own sick pleasure.” you protested. His eyes serve a glint of understanding before growing dark again. He knew what you were saying without even having to say it. 

“That's what you're good at,” he mockingly justifies before turning his back to you. The silence of his argument settles into the heavy room, suppressing any ounce of rebuttal.  

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Training seemed harder later that day. Simon refused to even look at you, no more teasing or taunting. Perhaps the little dispute you two had earlier irked him more than you thought. Or maybe he was just being respectful of what you expressed to him: that you no longer wanted him to tease you in such a way that made you feel submissive. 

Your thoughts raced, unfocused on the directions Price was giving out to your team for the drill.

“Ghost. Y/N. You will be our snipers.” You jolted back to the present where you watched Ghosts' empty eyes devour you. Fucking great, we are partnered together. Even though nine times out of ten you were partners, you had hoped this was the one time you weren’t. As everyone splits off into their designated pairings preparing for the training drill, Ghost approaches you.

Your breath hitched as you tried to remain calm. 

“Lucky me huh?” He scoffed. You followed his lead as he continued to walk past letting the snarky comment trail behind him. Ghosts broad back tapered down into his waist, his hips swayed slightly as his barbaric walk guided you to the lookout. 

Conversation lacked while you sat with him, occasionally staring down the scope to see if anything was happening. You felt the urge to say something, to mutter some sort of apology for snapping on him earlier, but he was quick to beat you to it. 

“Where the hell did that come from? Your little outburst earlier?” He asked forwardly. 

“I–I just—” you struggled to be transparent.

“What, you wanna top me or something, sweetheart?” his eyes never breaking away from the field he was surveying, your hands felt itchy from the confrontation. Your face flushing with heat trying your best to not make it obvious. He was so blunt, did he really know you that well?

“Would you let me?” you ask sickeningly innocent. He silently chuckled under his mask, not giving you the satisfaction of seeing his shit eating grin. 

“You can't even tell me you wanna make me your bitch, how could I take you seriously, princess?” he baited. He always called you that when you were under him, taking every inch of him. He worshiped you with that name. A name that solidified your submission to him. 

“If you can't handle it just say that,” you retort back. “I mean, it seems like you're the bitch considering you are afraid to let a little ol’ girl like me top you.” Your eyes now fixed on the field as well, letting whatever floats to your mind out due to irritation. He looks up from his scope and mutters a string of obscenities. 

“You wouldn’t be able to, angel. It's just me being honest. You're only good for taking it….” he leaned his head back down to his scope, “...if you want to top me, then do it.” 

As his words lingered in the air for you to ponder, Soap's voice came over the comms. 

“Taking a quick break LT, we will let you know when we resume.” Ghost relays understanding though his walkie and sits up to lean on a large rock behind him. You mimic him. A few moments of silence passed. 

“Hm,” he chuckled lightly to himself, “surprised I still haven’t been taken advantage of. Must not want it that bad yeah?” He jokes, manspreading and rutting up his hips to adjust into a more comfortable position. You fidget with the knife in your hand out of boredom and a slight distraction from the tension.

“Honestly, it doesn't even make sense–you trying to dominate me.” Anger flushed in your stomach. “You're tiny, you know. You don't hold much weight against me,” before finishing his demeaning thought you swiftly meet your knife to his neck, partly covered by his skull balaclava. His eyes lighting up with passion and intrigue. 

“Shut the fuck up, Riley,” you protest. He didn’t move or utter a word, his seated position staying the same, possibly shocked at your defense, or maybe just wanting to see where it goes. Maybe you did have it in you, it just took a bit of provoking. You made your way on top of him, knife still to his throat, as you did your best to stretch your legs over his wide frame. He sat there, a smirk outlined through his mask, eye contact never breaking. You traced your knife up to his chin, catching the fabric with it, exposing his stubbly neck and jaw. Your free hand resting on his upper thigh, close enough to his crotch to make him squirm. 

“I can make you my bitch no matter what size I am, Simon.” His eyes now inflamed with excitement. The knife to his neck, the vulgar words. You calling him your bitch for a change. You inch the blade up ever so slightly hearing the scratch of his stubble. You could feel his bulge through his pants as you leaned into him more, “I'll make you a good ol’ boy for me.” 

His chest rose and fell deeply, the erection growing in his pants. “Please me good, Riley, and I’ll make you feel the closest to heaven you will ever get.” Hands tracing over your waist he grabs you, hoisting you up to center your hips in front of his face as he remains seated against the rock. Unzipping your pants, your delicate panties show, his gloved fingers moving to massage your clit not yet removing the delicate fabric to reveal your dripping cunt. 

“Lift up your mask, show me your pretty mouth Lieutenant” you demand. He is devotedly obedient to your request. His balaclava rests on the bridge of his nose, his eyes waiting for your next demand. 

“Open.”

You slide your panties off to the side, exposing your dripping essence to him and anyone who could potentially look up and see you. Slowly, you start to grind against his wet tongue, lapping up any bit of excitement that came from you. Soft goans vibrated against you as he became more rough with his mouth, sucking your sensitive clit only to stick his thick tongue back into your core. Lapping circles around your pussy. 

“Don’t stop until I cum. That’s your only purpose, do you understand?” His needy moans expressing his devout service. You inched closer to your climax as you started to grind harder against his face, your puffy clit hitting his nose, offering added pleasure. The sloppy strokes of his tongue became erratic as the knot in your stomach tightened fully, arousal dripping down his jaw and neck. The lewd noises of his moans into you made you weak, causing your high to be intense. Your body shuddered as you came, breath hitching as his hands held you on his mouth, sucking your sweet lips through your climax. As you pulled off of him his eyes were wild with desire, the idea of you forcing him to please you showed through his tented pants. His bulge pulsated, twitching within the fabric that wore a wet stain that pooled next to it. His cock was already leaking, just from eating you out. Did he…cum?

“Fuck,” he exclaimed shakily, hand reaching down to obscure your sight of his premature ejaculation. He really enjoys being submissive huh?

“Did you cum?” you inquired. Nervous laughter escaped his lips. You parted his hand away from his pants getting a better look, eyes darting up to meet his. 

“Oh you naughty, naughty boy. I didn’t say cum while you please me now did I?” Disappointment lacing your tone. “Do you know what disobedient boys get when they dont listen?” The sarcastic tone in your voice alluding to a rhetorical question. You wind your hand up following through to meet Simon's reddened cheek. A loud smack echoing through the air. 

“Punishments.” 

You unzip his pants exposing his thick length, still twitching. Cum dripped down his warm shaft as some of his essence still leaked from his slit. You cooed at him, expressing pity for his lack of self control. 

“Ah~” he moaned weakly, still sensitive, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t–” His pleas were cut off by another ridgid slap. You could see his compliance in his glassy eyes. 

“Look at you, a mess. Pleading for my forgiveness, can't even control yourself when pleasing me. Looks like you get off on being my bitch, huh?” you hissed at him, unrelenting. “Since you want to indulge in pleasure, you're gonna have to beg me to cum. And maybe, if I’m feeling nice, I'll let you.” His chest heaved.

You grabbed his already sensitive cock and teased it, watching him hiss as he accepted his fate. You worked your hands up and down his shaft, feeling it stiffen. You hold out your hand signaling him to spit in it. He obeys. Lewd, wet noises exude from you both as he fingers your pussy through your underwear while you stroke his length quickly. His whimpers and whines encourage you to continue your salacious advances. His whimpers start to elicit needy cries, rutting and bucking his hips more into your hand. His fingers quickly move in and out of your sopping cunt causing his mind to race, drawing swears from his lips. His balls feeling heavier, his incessant whines becoming more convoluted. He was close. 

“Do you wanna come for me?” you insist. “Then let every little whimper and beg fall from your lips Simon. Tell me how bad you want this.” His head shoots back, submissively exclaiming fucked out phrases, seaching for pleas and begs that satisfy you.

“Fuck, please–mmph– please let me cum.” His words dripping with euphoria and depravity. “Let me fucking cum, I’ll be good for you, so good. I’ll be your good fucking boy mommy.” With one firm stroke meeting with his bucking hips he grasps for the dirt around him as thick spurts of cum shoot out of his reddened cock. Ropes of cum spill over your hand, making a mess of his unzipped pants. Making a mess of himself. Convulsing within your tight grip his eyes clamp shut. Tears welling up in the corners, so close to spilling out. His intense climax halts his breathing as he falls from his heightened state. Tip extremely sensitive, swollen from his release. Your hand pauses before gently rubbing your thumb over his slit. He hisses from the touch, followed by a deep sigh. 

“Aw, good boy Simon,” you praise. His vision is still trying to focus. Shock sets in as he realizes his enjoyment of your treatment. 

“Fuck, princess,” He teases, trying to regain some form of control. You shoot him a playfully annoyed look. 

The comms come on as his walkie sits in the dirt inches away from the two of you. Soaps' voice echos over the call, “Are we ready to continue?,” a slight pause of dead air, “By the way, never thought I’d hear the day LT begged like that.” 

Ghost pulled his balaclava over his embarrassed expression and grabbed the walkie. 

“The only begging you’ll have to worry about is begging me not to kill you after all this is over.”

[celestialsun888]

Headcannons: Ghost & Soap

(NSFW)

@celestialsun888

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Pairing(s)/Characters: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & Johnny ‘Soap’ Mctavish x Gn! reader

Genre: bffr: it’s a lil filthy with hints of crack/fluff [18+ MDNI]

Word Count: 386

Synopsis: I once again have listened to them. It's all true bc they told me!

★ TW: Established relations ;3, talks about kinks, type of lovers they are, no ‘real’ warnings just know there is smut in the cut okie! Oh ya, mentions of pegging ;)) when the word 'weird' is written, its not in a shaming way (if its weird to your personal taste, if that makes sense!)

✒ Authors Note: Its a bit self indulgent… ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

You all have most definitely thought about a threesome, Soap would probably be the one to say it aloud. 

Ghost is a switch but prefers to top (he likes the control).

Soap is a power bottom (no I am not going to argue).

Ghost has a slight God complex when having seggs

Soap is vocal. Ghost isn't as much.

Ghost is thicker, soap is longer (no i will not elaborate…maybe….you freaks)

WHOS BETTER AT AFTERCARE?! Soap me thinks (but ofc ik bc they showed told me)

Soap is a more sensual lover, would press his forehead to yours and giggle with you checking to see how you were enjoying it.

Ghost would fuck you rough, would check to see if you were enjoying it but in a more… primal way… (aka how loud you moan for him or how many times he makes you cum)

GHOST IS A PLEASURE/ SERVICE  DOM!!!!!!1!11!

Soaps pet names for you are pure me thinks (honey, baby, lover/ my love, darling, MY BELOVED! – imagine the accent too, im pissing that's so cute)

Ghosts pet names lowkey kinda hit or miss. I feel like he really would call you by your name *_* I think he would call you more suggestive (slightly less *pure* at least) types of pet names (princess, doll, sweetheart, probs a short version of your name or nickname, this mf might even pull some ‘weird’ shit like snuggums or pumpkin, most likely when intoxicated). 

THEY BOTH FEEL SEGGSY WHEN THEY DRINK WINE, MOST DEF A GUILTY PLEASURE IDC IDC

side: imagine them having wine nights talking shit

Soap might let you peg (but dont tell him i said that…)

Soap would ask you to check under the bed for monsters.

Ghost is the monster.

Soaps ‘weird’ fetish: mf seems like he’s into feet ngl. Just get that vibe from him, but nothing too crazy (other than the pegging) 

Ghosts ‘weird’ fetish: piss…IDK HE SEEMS LIKE THE TYPE (pls dont come for me, he just seems like he likes to ruin people stuff)

Soap sleeps w/ socks on, no doubt. Socks and undies

Ghost sleeps w/o socks but seems like a sweatpants/no shirt kinda guy. and no underwear

Both these mfs sleep with flat ass, pancake ass, pillow(s). I just know it. Soap probs only has one and ghost seems like he would care a little more and have two.

[celestialsun888]

✽ MASTERLIST ✽

❥ About: Hey! I'm Sun (or Sunny) and my work is under the cut! I write for multiple fandoms and even just general stuff. Thanks for stopping by!

✂ DARK ROMANCE/SMUT

❥ Mine: Possessive partner teaching you a lesson. [Dark Romance, Smut, F!Reader]

❥ Good ol’ Boy:  Simon let’s you prove you can top him. [Smut, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!Reader]

❥ Watching You: Simon takes his obsession with you too far [Dark Romance, Smut, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!Reader]

✂ FLUFF

❥ Time for Us:  Simon enjoying your presence. [Drabble, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Gn! Reader]

❥ Home for the Holidays: Soap surprises you for the holidays. [Drabble, Angst, Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish x Gn!Reader]

✂ HEADCANNONS & IMAGINES

❥ Ghost & Soap {sfw}: Simon and Soap HC’s (with mentions of Reader). [Fluff/Crack, Gn!Reader]

❥ Ghost & Soap {nsfw}: Simon and Soap HC’s (with mentions of Reader). [Fluff/Crack, Suggestive, Gn!Reader]

❥Ghost {nsfw}: Things I think Simon would say to you in bed [Smut/NSFW, F!Reader/ M!Reader/ Gn!Reader]

[celestialsun888]

Home for the Holidays.

@celestialsun888

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Pairing: Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish x Gn!Reader

Genre: Festive Fluff!!

Word Count: 745

Synopsis: Soap surprises you after saying he might not make it home for Christmas. 

★ TW: ANGST. Established relationship w/ him. Ends sweet :)

✒ Authors Note: This is my first writing for Soap! Please lemme know if you like it, still trying to feel out writing for him! ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

As you pried your eyes open to stare at the blank ceiling above, you felt emptiness settle into your chest. Pulling yourself over on your side, a solemn sigh broke from your lips. A blank space and untouched pillows sit against the headboard, reminding you of your isolation.

“Johnny,” you mutter to yourself. It had been months since you’ve seen him: brief, scattered calls throughout the separation, offering little to no solace for your mind. You just wanted him to be here with you, to fill in all the empty spaces that he once occupied. Tears began to stream down your cheek and the tip of your nose, burning little drops of frustration into your pillow. 

Sniffling, you sit up as his shirt draped over you, the closest thing to having him with you. You missed his light eyes falling upon you as he would voice silly stories to you that made you laugh. His humor being one of the things you loved most about him; his thick Scottish accent adding to his amusing antics. His dark lashes fluttering as he would close his eyes tight when he laughed. The tranquil mornings when his dark brown hair scattered messily around his head as he peeked open his eyes bright and early. Gesturing a beloved smile to you as an unspoken good morning. You just wanted it all back, back to normal. 

A few days prior you had spoken with him over the phone which was brief and forward as always. His despondent tone articulating how he might not make it home to spend the holidays with you and the mission was dragging out longer than expected. You knew it came with the territory of having a partner in the special forces but it still crushed you. With the call being cut short, abrupt and hasty ‘i love you’s’ trailing off until the call was disconnected, you shed bitter and woeful tears. All you wanted was him, holding you. It didn’t matter about gifts or presents: just his presence. 

You pulled yourself out of bed as best you could, dreading to start your day. 

Merry Christmas to me. 

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The day lagged on, spiritless, as you sat with your family and friends. Mustering up little conversation, waiting for time to pass. People came and went from your home until the late evening as the final guests left your place. Cleaning up plates, leftover drinks and the wrapping paper pieces that littered your floor, finally, being thankful the day was over. You sat on your couch sipping wine lazily, the living room adorned with the festive spirit you lacked; the full moon shined in the clear dark sky through your glass balcony door. 

You check your phone. Zero missed calls. No new messages.

Surely he would have called you by now, wishing you happy holidays, saying how he missed being with you, but alas, nothing. He might be busy? Maybe tying things off with his mission? Your mind tried its best to rationalize his lack of communication. Drifting off in anxious thoughts, sleep washed over you until you heavy eyelids shut.

A firm knock at the door alerted you from your sleep, causing the blanket that covered you to fall to the floor. You inched your way to the apartment door, tippy toes quietly pacing. As you unlocked the door you were greeted by a familiar face.

Johnny.

"Did ya' miss me?" His deep husky voice stifling your breath. His arms leaving not another second to be empty as he pulls you into him. Fully wrapping you in a tight grip, making you stiff in his embrace. His duffle lying on the ground beside him.

“Surprise,” He affirms gently into your neck. “Merry Christmas, my love!” His wholesomely excited words solicit tears to fall from your burning eyes. Your arms reciprocate his unyielding grip on you, pulling as hard as you can, his body into yours. His uniform coarse against your body, still holding a faint scent of battle. His hands tracing along you, re-familiarizing himself with your body, jogging his memory of every piece of you. Melting into you as he brushed along your frame. 

"I thought you weren't coming home!” you confess through a quivering inflection. “I've missed you so much.” His hold on you slightly tightening as you spoke.

“I’ve missed you more. I'm glad to be home.” His lips finding yours, deep breaths escape both of you, sparks of intimacy sweeping through each kiss. With that you lead him into your apartment, allowing every worry and stress to dissipate. You were going to make the most of the time you had with him, thankful he was home. 

[clone-lover]

OOPPPPP 😶😶 I cant even rn ���� this Is perfection

Watching You.

@celestialsun888

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Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!Reader

Genre: smut/ dark romance [18+ MDNI]

Word Count: 2.9k

Synopsis: Some Written from his POV! Simon wonders how you're doing since you two have split and your refusal to speak to him makes him take matters into his own hands.

★ TW: HEAVY DUB CON, STALKING AND OBSESSION! SO PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION! Vulgar language, degradation, forced submission/sex, size kink (ofc), Knife AND gun play, Voyeurism? He gets off to you without you knowing, possession, slight marking, He's really sadistic fr, Primal x Prey (kinda…), Rough sex, humiliation, shoe grinding, YOU vibes ong, ITALICS ARE INNER MONOLOGUE (Let me know if I’ve missed any!)

✒ Authors Note: I've had this on my mind, like he seems so scary and brooding but I wrote him genuinely psychotic and very obsessive. So please take the TWs seriously! This is also barely proof read.... so sorry if there are mistakes!

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❥ Simon's POV

Look at you. Getting your usual coffee before you head to work, sweetly, innocently, saying hello to strangers. I can tell from the cup it’s your usual: vanilla chai tea latte, extra vanilla. Sweet. Sweet like you. So sweet to everyone, but me… Refusing to see me since our breakup, cutting off any and all ties with me. God you are so devilishly cruel.

Standing far enough to go unnoticed, you watched her, sipping your own drink to blend in, meshing with the busy city. Your all black outfit concealed you even more, simply just a passing shadow. You leaned against the brick wall across the street from where she walked, eyes devouring her precious frame. Every morning the same, her routine burned into your mind. Such an accursed pleasure to look forward to each day. Just watching her. Such a detestable indulgence.

7:43 am.

She floated through the busy streets of downtown, occasionally checking the time to make sure she was on schedule.

You chose to wear loose slacks today. Interesting. But that top, mmm. You groan to yourself. That top hugging your body like that. Can you wear that to work? Showing off your plump breasts, cleavage spilling out…you're such a filthy little girl. Who are you dressing for if not me? … It should be me.

You took another sip of your drink, squirming slightly from the perverted and sadistic thoughts that filled your already tainted mind. As she started to walk out of your field of vision, you started to walk with her, slightly slower than her pace. Walking carefully on the opposite side of the street, suppressing your demeanor slightly to adapt to the regular civilians. Broad and tall frame slipping through waves of people, eyes penetrating her as your gaze shifted above them. As you catch up, she stops in front of an older woman.

7:47 am.

You're reading their expressions, a little too far to accurately read their lips.

God, her lips. So soft and plump, the way they felt when she would tease me, sticking her tongue into my mouth. My cock slipping in between her precious lips, watching my cum glissglade out of her mouth. Being so sloppy and sinful. The same lips that let beautiful, gluttonous moans slip from them, my sweet princess, calling out my name. ‘Simon…fuck me just like that..’ Dripping with defiled innocence, just for me. Fuck.

You tried to remain focused on her currently, though, the temptations of the past, the time you two had spent together, drove you mad. Sentiments of arousal making its throughout your body, trying your best to contain the consequences of your demented perversion. You never thought that your love for her would slip so deeply into obsession, the budding feelings growing even while she was yours. But when she left, you realized that no one can have her if it's not you. Even if she hated you, even if she went on to marry someone else, she would never get rid of you. Not until you said so.

7:53 am.

You’re gonna be late doll. C’mon hurry up.

She continued on, you not caring what the silly interaction was about, her pace fervently making up for lost time.

7:57 am.

She anxiously enters the large building where she worked, disappearing behind the sliding glass doors. Just in time.

You made your way back to your car, planning out time until she was done. Waiting to see her again.

You pulled out your phone, clicking on your photo albums eventually settling on one that said: ‘her’. Scrolling through pictures upon pictures of your twisted obsession. Her at the gym. Her walking to and from work. Pictures of her sleeping, barely any clothes on. Her through her balcony window. Her from her closet. She consumed your thoughts as your hand unbuckled your pants, slowly palming your throbbing length through your underwear.

So precious, so divine.

Your lips wet from your tongue trailing over them, biting your lower lip to strain against the urges of indecency. Your fingers stop on a video of you brooding over her as she sleeps, touching yourself hearing her gentle breath rise and fall as you stand there in the dark. Wanting so bad to moan, almost even begging her to catch you in such a vile and horrendous act.

Your hands start stroking your thick shaft, already hard from your lewd fantasies.

Oh, my sweet angel. Why do you want to leave me like this? A needy mess, only having remnants of videos and pictures of you? How you manage to get me so excited I'm unsure, maybe just knowing you have forgotten about me, yet I still cum moaning out for you, fills me with pleasure. Maybe I enjoy the thought of scaring you as you catch me whoring myself out just for you.

Thoughts consumed with thick and prevalent perversion. You edge closer to your orgasm. Scanning over pictures and videos of her, innocent or not, as you pump harder and harder. You love your depravity. How she does nothing, yet every part of her being fucks you up. You start to become careless, bucking your hips up, car shifting slightly from the weight of your frame. Your head falling back in the crux of the head seat, spreading your thighs, preparing for your orgasm. Your balls tighten and your vision blurs as you cum: thick ropes of semen painting over your seat, phone catching drips of your release as you continue to stroke yourself through it, milking out every drop. Your cock twitched and throbbed as you wiped your stained hand on your pants, chest falling deeply allowing time for your foggy thoughts to lift.

“Fuck…” you moan exasperated.

Your thoughts swirled as you tucked your sensitive dick back into your fouled pants. And then, you thought, something so sick and demented.

I have to make her mine.

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❥ Y/N POV

You slipped off your shoes right as you entered your apartment. You gave a large stretch before throwing your keys onto the kitchen island and flicking on the lights.

What a day.

You trailed to your room as you let out a defeated sigh, eager to cuddle up in bed and release the tension from the day. Reaching for the handle you notice your door ever so slightly open.

I could’ve sworn I shut it tight this morning?

Perhaps it was a simple slip up? You chucked it up to human error but you still steadily walked into your room. There was a presence that felt…odd? Not normal? You clicked on the light, illuminating your space, scanning over it to see if anything was out of place. Everything seems fine.

Suppressing your feelings of irrational thought you began to strip, undressing from your work clothes. Inching your slacks down your thighs and having them fall to the ground revealing your bare ass, nicely adorned with skimpy panties. You lifted your shirt over your head, nipples hardening through your matching bra from the colder draft. As your shirt falls to the floor, awaiting to be picked up and placed away, you hear the wooden floor creak. You halt.

You felt the rug that rested against your toes burn into you. You didn’t move. There is no way your floor boards would creak as you barely moved on the rug, centered in your room. The tension in your chest encouraged your heart rate to speed up, your chest feeling like it couldn't contain your heartbeats. Nervousness washed over you as you turned to your closet, slightly ajar. The silence was so loud, ears picking up dead air. You held your breath as you inched towards it as calmly as possible. You jerk the door open to find nothing.

Oh my gosh what the fuck is with me?

A relief sets over you as you step back, still refusing to look away from it, just in case. Your clumsy footing however, causes you to catch on your clothes that piled on the floor. Falling on your back, you recoil to sit up enough to set your eyes back on your closet. Just in case.

“Stupid clothes,” you murmur to the air. That's when you feel it. The presence. Something staring into you, intensely watching you.

It's been watching you.

Your mouth slightly hangs open as you let out shaky breaths. You turn to your bed that stood to the right of you, aligned perfectly to see underneath. Past the slightly disheveled comforter you see the whites of eyes staring at you through the darkness. Pitch black pupils matching the mysterious ambiance. A heavier breath escapes from the abyss.

Startled, you scramble towards the wall across from the darkness as the eyes start to come from under the bed. The skull mask covering the figures face, all except those hollow eyes.

“S-simon,” you sputter, “W-hat are you doing here?” Your voice growing more anxious and scared. His big frame arched from under the bed as he crawled towards you. His eyes never parting from you.

You reached your arm along the wall you were backed into, reaching desperately for the door handle for both escape and support in standing, your fear tempting to paralyze you. Thick calloused hands snatched at your ankles, dragging you to him, fingertips just missing the door. His dark and evil gaze lighting up as he traced over your half naked body.

“Shhhh, shhh, angel” He cooed detestably, sinking his body into yours, “Let's make this as easy as possible.” You fought against his sick advances. Pushing your fingers into his face as he tried to kiss you, legs trapped over his thighs as he sat on his knees. Your back bowing from being so much smaller than him. You tried to bring in your knees to cut off his access to you but his bearish arms held you in place. Your weak protests offer no solace from him.

“Simon!” you yelp petrified, “Why!? Why are you doing this!?” His eyes showed no remorse for his actions. His hand trailed roughly over your body, scraping innocence off of you as he went. Your body continued to squirm getting away from his grasp a little, almost as if he let you. You finally broke free, crawling back to the door as he drew you in again, this time not holding you down. He slams the door shut and locks it. Knowing that getting away would take longer, knowing that he would be able to get to you sooner.

“Behave!” His voice thick and callous. You refused to listen, tears streaming from your eyes as you were dragged into him once more. Body feeling the hard floor grate against your back. His hefty palm gripped your face, nearly engulfing it completely. His other hand reached to his hip pulling out his loaded hand gun. Placing it under your chin, the cold steel meets with your soft, warm skin. Salty streams continued to sprinkle from your eyes, his face drawing into yours. Your cries and pleads meaning absolutely nothing to him. His breath hot on your cheek as his thick tongue came to meet your bitter tears, licking them away sadistically. His gun digging more into your jaw.

“Oh baby, you sweet sweet angel,” You wince at his words, “be good for me, take it. Nice and easy and we won't have a problem.” He glances at the gun and back at you.

"Don't make me hurt you sweetheart." He shakes the weapon disturbingly. He slowly moves the gun down your chest making circles along the way, trailing to your tummy, the loaded gun flirting with you.

His pants already bulging from the rush of adrenaline, he teases his gun onto your pussy, edging it over your panties. Wetness dampening the barrel.

"Your a dirty bitch. You like me playing with your cunt like this?" You try and squirm away again from his harassment. You see him place his gun back on his hip, snickering to himself. Using both hands to lift you from the ground with him he grabs the hair at the nape of your neck, fingers tugging it violently. His body blocking any form of escape from him. You reach for your head, trying to ease the firm grasp he has on you. He forces you towards the bed, burying you into it. Ass facing him, tippy toes barely touching the ground. His heavy hand continues to push you into the mattress, you hear a pocket knife flip open.

"P-lease.." you try and convey through mousy sobs.

The cold metal dragging along your thighs causes you to shudder in fear. The tip of his blade gently applies pressure to the skin of your ass.

“Should I mark you as mine, princess?” His tone was mockingly threatening. “A nice little S.R. right here. Letting everyone know that you once, and will always be mine.” His knife drawing circles around the designated spot, teasing the soft, untainted skin. Your muffled cries seep into the mattress, fearing he would follow through. His hand, tangled in your hair, pulls you up. Ass meeting his crotch vigorously, forcing your neck to tilt back for him, his eyes watching over you. Your innocent eyes were stained with despair. He continued his sadistic taunting, grazing his knife up the front of your hips, watching your tummy undulate from your heavy breathing. You didn't know if begging him to stop would edge him to actually do it so you kept your mouth shut.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” He sighed into your neck. Teeth biting into your flesh, eyes watching his hand guide the knife along you from over your shoulder. The blade stopped at the band of your underwear, teasing the fabric with the sharp tip. You felt him buck his hips into you, slowly grinding his erection into your ass. Sick fuck.

Stringing along fucked up phrases that made you feel him more and more, harder and harder. You could tell his teasing wanted relief, he was getting desperate to fuck you.

"Why Simon, why...why are you doing this?" You plead, hoping some form of humanity would come back to him.

"Oh, my love, you taunt me, watching you act like I no longer exist to you. I just needed to remind you how fucking real this is. I haven't been able to stop thinking about your lewd body, fucking my hand, just thinking about you, isn't good enough anymore." His knife grazing lightly over your clothed clit, tapping the blade over your sensitive lips. He inched it back to your waist band, irritating the gentle fabric.

“Slutty fuckin’ girl. I need to be inside you.” His knife cutting the fabric to your panties. Your bare cunt exposed. The knife shifted in his hand now resting within his pinky, ring and middle fingers allowing for his index and thumb to be free. He rubbed his index finger along your slit, feeling the heat pool, your wetness glistening on his digit. The pleasure he gave to you didnt last long as he saw you were wet enough.

He placed his knife away grabbing your hips, forcing you to bend over for him. Tear stained cheeks buried in the covers. The sound of his zipper coming undone made you whimper, you knew he was going to be rough with you. Even when you two dated he was hard to take and it usually took a while for him to prep you. You knew he was going to be unrelenting.

“Fuck” he exclaimed salaciously as he slammed his fat cock into you, feeling his half opened pants poking along your ass and thighs. You were full: his thick girth stretching you out over him. You struggled to remain calm as your hole tightened from his abrasive advance, back arching to elicit a choked out yelp. Your knees threatened to buckle under you but his hand offered support knowing your little pussy struggled to take all of him. His tense length started to move in and out of you, kissing your cervix. Heavy balls slapping against your puffy clit as you tried to take him. You gripped your comforter hard, digging your nails into the mattress. His strokes are erratic and aggressive.

“You look so pretty on the end of my cock, princess. I’ve waited long enough to have you. Don't cry, baby, it had to be like this. I couldn't hold back any longer.” His tone matching the roughness of his strokes. Your helpless cries being drowned out by the lewd, squelching noises that came from your sloppy cunt. He continued to bully your hole, slapping your ass to add to your pain and his pleasure. Leaving bite marks along your delicate back and shoulders, holding the back of your neck down with his boorish hands, spilling heinous words into your ear. All while you took every inch of his cock.

You feel yourself getting close, tightening around him as he fucks you through your orgasm. Humiliated by your sexual arousal of his mistreatment. His obsessive possession. You feel him smiling through the mask that rubbed into your neck, his breath hot.

“You dirty, dirty little bitch, huh. Cumming on my cock as I take advantage of your fucking pussy? Maybe I should stalk you more, watch you while you undress for me. Touching myself in the dark of your room. You seem to fucking like it.” His own strokes became sloppier.

“S-s-simon,” you whimper, “P-please, I can’t take it.” You whine trying your best to think through the overstimulation. He continues his aggressive pace, knowing how sensitive you are.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know, I know,” he coos, offering false security. “Daddy’s almost done taking your cunt, just be fucking patient.” You feel his thick length start to throb inside you, signaling that he's close. Quickly pulling out of you, he forcefully guides you to the ground, stroking himself above you, face centered under his swollen tip.

He sees you squirm as you wait for him impatiently, your pussy convulsing around nothing. His thick boot meets your tender heat, allowing you to grind on it as he finds his own release, getting off on your depravity. Reaching in his back pocket of his unzipped pants he pulls out his phone and angles it towards you, still stroking his cock.

“Be a good fucking girl and look at the camera while I ruin you, sweetheart. I wanna have something nice and sweet to look back on. I’ll add it to the collection.” His voice became laced with abandonment. The slick sounds of his hand quickly stroking his length echo through the room as he groans. As swears leave his lips, he ejaculates his hot, white cum over you. Streams of his sticky semen drip from your face, covering you wickedly. Waves crashing over him as he finished his sick fantasy. His seed tainting you as you look up at him with empty eyes. His fucked out expression triggering the last few groans to release from him.

“Good, good girl.” He places his phone back into his pocket, zipping his pants. You stand to meet the large man, brooding over your delicate frame. You didn't know why he obsessed over you and why he would go through all the trouble. His thumb glides over the traces of his essence before slipping his thick digit into your mouth. His hand grabbed at your chin, tilting it up.

“You’re mine, forever.” You wince at his words trying your best to break from his grip. And with that he was gone, leaving you to revel in confusion and fear as to when he would be back.

[celestialsun888]

Good ol’ Boy.

@celestialsun888

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Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!Reader

Genre: Filthy Smut! [+18 MDNI]

Word Count: 2.6k

Synopsis: Ghost pushes you just enough to see if you have it in you to top him.

★ TW: Bottom!Simon/ Top!Reader, heavy teasing, Simon being a little shit, size kink (ofc ofc), vulgar language, slight angst if you use binoculars, public sex, knife play, slight overstimulation, face sitting/riding (f!receiving), *slight* voyeurism, established relationship (more like fwb), he calls you mommy like once, (Let me know if I’ve missed any!)

✒ Authors Note: I had to bc the switch in me said so. Also: who doesn’t wanna hear him whimper? ;3 Also also, idk shit about MW2/ the military and all that, I am just hyper fixated on this man so if something isn't accurate pls spare me lol. This also isn't super proofread so if there are mistakes, shhh.

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Simon always had a way of getting under your skin. Knowing all the right buttons to push and saying all the right words that provoked you. 

You and Simon had been seeing each other casually a short while after you joined task force 141. He showed little restraint in making teasing passes at you during training, making the other members catch on quickly to you and the Lieutenants relationship. Soap even questioned you about it often, shelling out jokes he knew he couldn’t make around Ghost. 

You hated how Ghost just knew you so well, how observant he was. One small change and he knew it. 

“What’s with you today?” His husky voice questioned, taking off his gear and throwing it onto his bed. The room was small and cramped allowing little space for separation from his words. Thankful for a short break from training that allowed for little free time. His eyes followed your figure as you stripped yourself of your gear as well. Observing you intently. 

“Nothing.” You huffed. You remained focused on the floor, the walls. Anything but him. 

He hesitated from undressing, watching your demeanor stiffen as you felt his sharp gaze cut into your back. You didn't have to look at him to know, his presence was suffocating on its own. You knew when he watched you. The strangely gentle noise of his footsteps inched along the wooden floor, creaking with every step. Each step closer made you nervous to continue undressing, you kept your back to him avoiding any kind of contact. Rough, firm hands positioned themselves on your shoulder, gently tracing down to your wrists. He always managed to make you feel engulfed by him, his size taunting you. His chest was to your back as you felt his hot breath on the nape of your neck. The body heat and sweat that radiated off of him seeped into you, reiterating his stark presence. 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing?” The movement of his lips now grazing gently along the side of your neck sending chills that formed along your skin. You could tell he was trying his best to get it out of you and hoping to get lucky that it leads to more. He always starts with being gentle and kind until you give the signal that you want him in the worst possible ways. Everyone knew he was kinder to you, but they assumed it was only because he fucked you and he didn’t want to lose his precious toy in such desperate times. Even if it was true, you knew he had a sweet spot for you though he often tried to hide it.

That's how it went with Simon: Build you up, wash you in sweet divine praises, suffocate you with tension till you're needy for him, eventually forcing you to seek release with him as he makes you see heaven. But you hated how he always acted so… dominant. You wanted him needy, him to beg and whimper for you, though you would never say it. He always told you he enjoyed you playing the ‘innocent’ good girl for him, so you devotedly agreed. I mean what would he think? Would he laugh at you for being so little in comparison to him, not even able to possess a fraction of the strength he has, and wanting to…top him? The thought dissipated as he nestled his nose into your neck, his stubbly chin itching along your delicate skin. You shook him off trying to escape his rather sweet advances. He shifted his posture and stood with an offended acknowledgement. 

“The fuck is with you?” He threatens.

“Why do you tease me like that?” You say referring to his taunts earlier that day. You tried bubbling up any self respect you had. “Like–like,” you stutter, “like I'm just so much weaker than you. I am very capable, Simon.” 

His eyes followed you as you gave distance between you two, narrowing in on every word you spoke to him. Your tone sounds harsh and more aggressive. He let you go on, intrigued by your forwardness.

“You treat me like all I am to you is your submissive little doll that just does whatever you say. That you can just tease me and humiliate me for your own sick pleasure.” you protested. His eyes serve a glint of understanding before growing dark again. He knew what you were saying without even having to say it. 

“That's what you're good at,” he mockingly justifies before turning his back to you. The silence of his argument settles into the heavy room, suppressing any ounce of rebuttal.  

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Training seemed harder later that day. Simon refused to even look at you, no more teasing or taunting. Perhaps the little dispute you two had earlier irked him more than you thought. Or maybe he was just being respectful of what you expressed to him: that you no longer wanted him to tease you in such a way that made you feel submissive. 

Your thoughts raced, unfocused on the directions Price was giving out to your team for the drill.

“Ghost. Y/N. You will be our snipers.” You jolted back to the present where you watched Ghosts' empty eyes devour you. Fucking great, we are partnered together. Even though nine times out of ten you were partners, you had hoped this was the one time you weren’t. As everyone splits off into their designated pairings preparing for the training drill, Ghost approaches you.

Your breath hitched as you tried to remain calm. 

“Lucky me huh?” He scoffed. You followed his lead as he continued to walk past letting the snarky comment trail behind him. Ghosts broad back tapered down into his waist, his hips swayed slightly as his barbaric walk guided you to the lookout. 

Conversation lacked while you sat with him, occasionally staring down the scope to see if anything was happening. You felt the urge to say something, to mutter some sort of apology for snapping on him earlier, but he was quick to beat you to it. 

“Where the hell did that come from? Your little outburst earlier?” He asked forwardly. 

“I–I just—” you struggled to be transparent.

“What, you wanna top me or something, sweetheart?” his eyes never breaking away from the field he was surveying, your hands felt itchy from the confrontation. Your face flushing with heat trying your best to not make it obvious. He was so blunt, did he really know you that well?

“Would you let me?” you ask sickeningly innocent. He silently chuckled under his mask, not giving you the satisfaction of seeing his shit eating grin. 

“You can't even tell me you wanna make me your bitch, how could I take you seriously, princess?” he baited. He always called you that when you were under him, taking every inch of him. He worshiped you with that name. A name that solidified your submission to him. 

“If you can't handle it just say that,” you retort back. “I mean, it seems like you're the bitch considering you are afraid to let a little ol’ girl like me top you.” Your eyes now fixed on the field as well, letting whatever floats to your mind out due to irritation. He looks up from his scope and mutters a string of obscenities. 

“You wouldn’t be able to, angel. It's just me being honest. You're only good for taking it….” he leaned his head back down to his scope, “...if you want to top me, then do it.” 

As his words lingered in the air for you to ponder, Soap's voice came over the comms. 

“Taking a quick break LT, we will let you know when we resume.” Ghost relays understanding though his walkie and sits up to lean on a large rock behind him. You mimic him. A few moments of silence passed. 

“Hm,” he chuckled lightly to himself, “surprised I still haven’t been taken advantage of. Must not want it that bad yeah?” He jokes, manspreading and rutting up his hips to adjust into a more comfortable position. You fidget with the knife in your hand out of boredom and a slight distraction from the tension.

“Honestly, it doesn't even make sense–you trying to dominate me.” Anger flushed in your stomach. “You're tiny, you know. You don't hold much weight against me,” before finishing his demeaning thought you swiftly meet your knife to his neck, partly covered by his skull balaclava. His eyes lighting up with passion and intrigue. 

“Shut the fuck up, Riley,” you protest. He didn’t move or utter a word, his seated position staying the same, possibly shocked at your defense, or maybe just wanting to see where it goes. Maybe you did have it in you, it just took a bit of provoking. You made your way on top of him, knife still to his throat, as you did your best to stretch your legs over his wide frame. He sat there, a smirk outlined through his mask, eye contact never breaking. You traced your knife up to his chin, catching the fabric with it, exposing his stubbly neck and jaw. Your free hand resting on his upper thigh, close enough to his crotch to make him squirm. 

“I can make you my bitch no matter what size I am, Simon.” His eyes now inflamed with excitement. The knife to his neck, the vulgar words. You calling him your bitch for a change. You inch the blade up ever so slightly hearing the scratch of his stubble. You could feel his bulge through his pants as you leaned into him more, “I'll make you a good ol’ boy for me.” 

His chest rose and fell deeply, the erection growing in his pants. “Please me good, Riley, and I’ll make you feel the closest to heaven you will ever get.” Hands tracing over your waist he grabs you, hoisting you up to center your hips in front of his face as he remains seated against the rock. Unzipping your pants, your delicate panties show, his gloved fingers moving to massage your clit not yet removing the delicate fabric to reveal your dripping cunt. 

“Lift up your mask, show me your pretty mouth Lieutenant” you demand. He is devotedly obedient to your request. His balaclava rests on the bridge of his nose, his eyes waiting for your next demand. 

“Open.”

You slide your panties off to the side, exposing your dripping essence to him and anyone who could potentially look up and see you. Slowly, you start to grind against his wet tongue, lapping up any bit of excitement that came from you. Soft goans vibrated against you as he became more rough with his mouth, sucking your sensitive clit only to stick his thick tongue back into your core. Lapping circles around your pussy. 

“Don’t stop until I cum. That’s your only purpose, do you understand?” His needy moans expressing his devout service. You inched closer to your climax as you started to grind harder against his face, your puffy clit hitting his nose, offering added pleasure. The sloppy strokes of his tongue became erratic as the knot in your stomach tightened fully, arousal dripping down his jaw and neck. The lewd noises of his moans into you made you weak, causing your high to be intense. Your body shuddered as you came, breath hitching as his hands held you on his mouth, sucking your sweet lips through your climax. As you pulled off of him his eyes were wild with desire, the idea of you forcing him to please you showed through his tented pants. His bulge pulsated, twitching within the fabric that wore a wet stain that pooled next to it. His cock was already leaking, just from eating you out. Did he…cum?

“Fuck,” he exclaimed shakily, hand reaching down to obscure your sight of his premature ejaculation. He really enjoys being submissive huh?

“Did you cum?” you inquired. Nervous laughter escaped his lips. You parted his hand away from his pants getting a better look, eyes darting up to meet his. 

“Oh you naughty, naughty boy. I didn’t say cum while you please me now did I?” Disappointment lacing your tone. “Do you know what disobedient boys get when they dont listen?” The sarcastic tone in your voice alluding to a rhetorical question. You wind your hand up following through to meet Simon's reddened cheek. A loud smack echoing through the air. 

“Punishments.” 

You unzip his pants exposing his thick length, still twitching. Cum dripped down his warm shaft as some of his essence still leaked from his slit. You cooed at him, expressing pity for his lack of self control. 

“Ah~” he moaned weakly, still sensitive, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t–” His pleas were cut off by another ridgid slap. You could see his compliance in his glassy eyes. 

“Look at you, a mess. Pleading for my forgiveness, can't even control yourself when pleasing me. Looks like you get off on being my bitch, huh?” you hissed at him, unrelenting. “Since you want to indulge in pleasure, you're gonna have to beg me to cum. And maybe, if I’m feeling nice, I'll let you.” His chest heaved.

You grabbed his already sensitive cock and teased it, watching him hiss as he accepted his fate. You worked your hands up and down his shaft, feeling it stiffen. You hold out your hand signaling him to spit in it. He obeys. Lewd, wet noises exude from you both as he fingers your pussy through your underwear while you stroke his length quickly. His whimpers and whines encourage you to continue your salacious advances. His whimpers start to elicit needy cries, rutting and bucking his hips more into your hand. His fingers quickly move in and out of your sopping cunt causing his mind to race, drawing swears from his lips. His balls feeling heavier, his incessant whines becoming more convoluted. He was close. 

“Do you wanna come for me?” you insist. “Then let every little whimper and beg fall from your lips Simon. Tell me how bad you want this.” His head shoots back, submissively exclaiming fucked out phrases, seaching for pleas and begs that satisfy you.

“Fuck, please–mmph– please let me cum.” His words dripping with euphoria and depravity. “Let me fucking cum, I’ll be good for you, so good. I’ll be your good fucking boy mommy.” With one firm stroke meeting with his bucking hips he grasps for the dirt around him as thick spurts of cum shoot out of his reddened cock. Ropes of cum spill over your hand, making a mess of his unzipped pants. Making a mess of himself. Convulsing within your tight grip his eyes clamp shut. Tears welling up in the corners, so close to spilling out. His intense climax halts his breathing as he falls from his heightened state. Tip extremely sensitive, swollen from his release. Your hand pauses before gently rubbing your thumb over his slit. He hisses from the touch, followed by a deep sigh. 

“Aw, good boy Simon,” you praise. His vision is still trying to focus. Shock sets in as he realizes his enjoyment of your treatment. 

“Fuck, princess,” He teases, trying to regain some form of control. You shoot him a playfully annoyed look. 

The comms come on as his walkie sits in the dirt inches away from the two of you. Soaps' voice echos over the call, “Are we ready to continue?,” a slight pause of dead air, “By the way, never thought I’d hear the day LT begged like that.” 

Ghost pulled his balaclava over his embarrassed expression and grabbed the walkie. 

“The only begging you’ll have to worry about is begging me not to kill you after all this is over.”