#ghost call of duty

[bunny-jpeg]

baby showers & bright ideas

simon "ghost" riley

cw: smut/pwp, rough sex, breeding kink, baby fever, doggy style, unprotected sex (duh), size difference/kink

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congratulations captain john price. he found himself a missus and now they were having a baby. mrs. price was practically glowing with her pregnancy even if she was waddling around a little. heavy price brat at her hips. price had a hand on her back and helped her whenever he could, he was a doting husband.

while simon enjoyed the food and the drinks, it was nothing compared to the pit in his stomach. why couldn't his missus' sprout a little belly like that? a nice riley babe in your soft womb, wouldn't that be a dream? it all came to a head when he overheard garrick's wife ask when you and simon were having a baby. he saw your got red before you shooed away the question.

the answer was simple, tonight. you were going to make a baby tonight.

being misses riley was no easy feat. simon riley was all scarring inside and out, even his scarred hand on your soft, unblemished thigh was such a contrast. from the scar that ran down his lip to the one that ran across his hip, he needed a tough woman.

but, you were quite far from tough. at least physically, you couldn't even hurt a spider. he watched you move it out the window of your apartment and into a flower box. you were pretty tiddies and a squishy tummy. wide hips and soft smiles. plush in a way that simon could get lost in. the kind of woman that he could bully his cock into, to make a proper mama.

once you got home from the baby shower, simon was on you like a shadow. his hands on your hips as he guided you to the bedroom, barely giving you time to get your sandals off. his erection strained in his blue jeans as he bent you over the bed with your face against the mattress and you ass leveled his his cock.

"there she is." he said as he ran his hand across your pussy over your skirt, "there's my girl." he said in a low grumble of a voice. it reverberated in your brain as you felt all sense leave out your ears.

you clung to the covers as he took your skirt off, and your pretty daffodil coloured panties. you only let go of the covers to let simon get your shirt and bra off of you. you looked over your shoulder at him once you were nude and could feel his hungry brown eyes on you. you squirmed a little bit with your breasts rubbed against the covers which only excited you more.

simon got out of his clothes. you heard the rustle of his belt hitting the ground and saw his shirt being thrown to the head of the bed. your husband was soon naked and his cock was pressed up against you and your hips were pushed up.

"pretty thing. pretty girl." he said. he was just so much more bigger than you, he made you feel so small even when the blunt head of his cock was pressed up against your tight cunt, "you'll look pretty with a baby at your hip. already got the body to have babies, not some twig. a proper woman to have my babies." he sank into your pussy and your back arched with the feeling. the stretch of his length inside of you.

"si." you whimpered.

"i saw ya at the baby shower. how could i not. if price's girl wasn't so heavily pregnant, everyone would be lookin' at ya. bein' a little helper to the price's, bein' a good girl." he said, "ya know all about bein' good. i couldn't take my eyes off of ya. especially with the cut of that sundress. why haven't i seen it before?"

you whimpered, "i wanted to save it for a special occasion. no time felt right except for today."

"your fat tits could barely be kept in it. not quite right for a baby shower. unless you were hopin' to walk away with more than just a gift bag. i bet ya were a little jealous. seein' how the captain treats his wife." simon's voice was honey on your brain. it made you feel hot all over and a little hazy in the brain.

"mmm, si."

"i got ya, always do. that's what a husband does. he provides. but, ya gotta do me a favour, beautiful. get pregnant, let me get you pregnant." his started to pick up the pace and you groaned loudly. you could feel the rattle in your soul from the intensity of his pace.

everything from euphoric and hot, you felt good in the best way you could use that term. it was a heat that could be felt in the tips of your fingers and the tips of your toes. you moaned and panted against your soft bedding.

simon pressed your hips further up, almost holding you up against him as he thrusted in and out of you. such a powerful man, no matter the size, you were easily picked up by your hulking mass of a husband. he was a strong brick wall, and you were delicate like a bed of flowers.

eventually simon got you fully onto the bed with him standing at the end with his cock still inside of you. he worked himself against you and you felt the thump of pleasure in your body. you felt his cock nudge against some of your softest parts and you panted wildly.

"so pretty." he said, "only get more pretty when you're carryin' my kid around. i promise i'll be there every step of the way. my woman won't go without." he could imagine you with the baby weight at your hips, and eventually the chunky riley baby at your hip while you worked through the house.

that was his dream. a nice house, a soft wife, a couple of kids in the yard. it was a simple life, but simon yearned for it. eat dinner, put the kids to bed, show his missus' some lovin'. he continued to rut against you while he leaned over you and wrapped his strong arms around your middle. letting his cock nudge against your cervix, a friendly greeting. a promise that he was gonna keep that cunt warm.

"please, si." you couldn't deny it. his words were hot and you were feeling flustered at the baby shower. you could feel the pull to have a baby, and it was good that you and your hubby were on the same page.

you blushed against the covers, he was still so smitten with you. he loved every curve and mole. he loved every inch of soft skin against his calloused hands. you could hear him panting for you, wanting you more than anything. you whimpered a little bit from the feeling of his cock hitting against all the right spots.

simon knew how to drive you mad with a sexual heat.

his heavy thrusts went to your head and before you knew it, you were panting like an animal in heat with your back arched like a good girl. a good wife.

"yeah, you'll keep my belly and my cock warm, huh? that's what a good missus' does. takin' care of her hubby and the kids he gave her." he felt your cunt clench around his cock. that got you excited. he continued to rut against you until you tensed up under him during climax.

you clawed at the covers a little as the pleasure hit you. your eyes rolled back a little and your husband continued to fuck you. he moved you against his cock and watched your back. a few more thrusts after your climax as simon was finishing as well.

"that's it, that's it. good girl. good girl." he purred lowly, "a good missus riley." the words made you shudder. he felt the heat under his skin. he felt alive.

but it wasn't long before his body craved for more. while he pulled out of you, he got onto the bed and between your legs. his cock gleamed with your wetness, but still painfully hard. he needed more.

after all, he needed to make sure it all took.

-

"there's my missus." simon said with his voice filled with love. he strong arms wrapped around you swollen middle and his nose up against your shoulder, "pretty as always."

this was your second pregnancy in two years, and your firstborn, a baby girl was sound asleep in her playpen while you cooked breakfast for you and simon. you looked like a proper wife, a good wife.

maybe it was a bit of an overkill to have two babies so close together, but simon couldn't help himself. it didn't help that you only got hotter when you were being such a good mama to his daughter. his large hands roamed your swollen middle. a few more months and you'll be having a boy.

"not feeling too pretty." you yawned. you tilted your head up and simon leaned down a little to kiss you square on the lips, "why don't you go check on our little peanut and i'll plate our food."

"of course, love." anything for his wife.

your little family felt complete, that was until simon got a itch to have baby number three. <3

[itsoutrageouss]

Sitting on Simon’s face to shut him up?

It's when you think he gets too arrogant, too mouthy that you push Simon 'Ghost' Riley down by the shoulders. He could easily stop you and you both know it. But he welcomes it, a little taken aback by the sudden gesture but intrigued.

You had been arguing over yet another mission- he said you were too soft and sentimental, you said he was too cold and aloof. One day arguing had led to him hoisting you up against the wall and fucking you to prove a point. You guys hard argued a lot more since then.

He lets himself lay down on the bed, feet still planted on the ground. It takes you 0.1 second to slip off your panties under your skirt before you're crawling over him, climbing him like a tree and slowly sitting yourself down

You manage to catch his eyes before his face disappears under your skirt. You think it might be love, the way he looks up at you.

And it worked because he doesn't say a single thing- no protest or thanks. He just gets to work, hands curling around your thighs, opening his warm mouth for you and letting his tongue delve into your cunt. Eventually there's a groan of appreciation that sends shivers up and down your spine, making you arch and simultaneously press yourself down onto his mouth harder. He sticks his tongue out in response, urging you to move by yourself with a tug on your hips.

It had been a ridiculous discussion where he'd been praising his skills far too much and yours far too little- but it melted from your mind as you rocked your hips over his face, feeling his nose nudge your clit.

He mumbles against you, slobbering and sucking diligently -doing his duty- serving his apology with gentle sucks on your clit.

His eyes are closed tightly. What had you been arguing about? And why exactly hadn't you shut him up like this before? And would you pretty please do it again?

He feels you drip down his chin and onto his neck, his brow furrowing as he groans. He wanted to actually at you up, gently scraping his teeth on your sensitive clit as you cum all over his face. He was gonna piss you off more often now on purpose if this was how you'd punish him.

[lanialania00]

:D

[ebodebo]

more bull rider!simon.... MDNI

some context

"What the hell are ya doin' here?" You hiss under your breath as the wooden bleacher next to you sinks to accommodate Simon's weight. You briefly glance at him before refocusing on the rider in the arena.

The rider in question was a guy you had met while in Wisconsin some months ago. You had found him a little aloof but charming. He had that boy-next-door look—cute face, crooked smile, soft-spoken. 

He was the kind of boy you bring home to your parents—the boy your mother gushes over to her church friends, and your father pats on the back and whispers to your mom, 'Real nice kid.'

It wasn't anything serious between you and the rider. You were strictly friends.

You couldn't see yourself with a cookie-cutter like him.

But Simon didn't know that.

"Just came to watch the show," he casually says; you don't miss the smug tone his words carry. You roll your eyes, hands gripping the edge of the wooden bleachers tighter, even letting out a dry, unamused laugh.

His mere presence annoyed you. 

But his presence in an arena alongside others rattled you to hell.

All eyes were on him. 

They were always on him. 

God knows you despised the man, which was a shame because he was such a good lay. And you hated to admit it, but he was a powerhouse of a bull rider—one of the best in the country.

His skill and charm were undeniable, but his arrogance overshadowed those qualities for you.

These unredeemable qualities you despiesed did nothing to deter everybody and their mothers from moving mountains just to get a glimpse of him.

"Bullshit, Simon," you shake your head, eyes focusing back on the rider. He let out a laugh, scooting himself forward so his back lay against the back of the bleachers. 

"You think I'd lie to ya, Babydoll?" He quipped a self-satisfied smirk on his lips that fiddled with a toothpick between them. You whip your head to face him, eyes widened in amusement. 

"I do, actually," you say, tipping your head towards him. "I know you're here because you heard about him," you casually say, turning back to face the arena. 

"Is that right?" He lazily says, taking the toothpick settled between his lips and twirling it with his finger. 

"Yes," you breathe out, slight annoyance in your tone. "I'm just wonderin' why ya care so much?" He throws his hands up in surrender, making you turn to face him again. 

"Woah, woah. Hold on now," he begins. "Since ya got me all figured out," he pauses, pointing his finger at you. "You tell me." You let out an irritated sigh, hands coming up to rub your eyes and temples.

"You smug bastard," you huff.

"Come on, Babydoll. Do ya really take me for the jealous type?" He probes, pushing the toothpick back into his mouth. 

"Well, ya are a big baby when ya don't get your way," you jest.

"Am not," he quickly supplies with a smile. 

"You sure are, Beef-head," you insist, the corner of your lips pulling into a slight smirk. 

"That reminds me," he leans closer so only you can hear him. "I still haven't forgiven ya for leavin' me high and dry the other day."

"You had that comin,'" you shrug, humor dancing across your face.

"I didn't leave ya on purpose, hon. You planned that attack," he exasperates dramatically.

"Attack? Oh my God. You're so dramatic," you groused.

"Was up all night icin,'" he griped, face contorting at the remembrance of the pain. 

"I doubt that," you roll your eyes, still laughing. "I'm sure you had one of your, what do ya call them? Buckle-bunnies? Tend to ya."

"I don't call them that," he firmly says.

"Sure you don't, Beef-head," you absently agree, eyes locking back to the arena where the rider you were watching stands off to the side.

Your eyes widen, while your mouth hangs open.

"What is it?" Simon's voice is laced with concern. You stand abruptly, gathering your things next to you. 

"You made me miss it," you mutter. 

Simon smiles. "Can't help you didn't wanna look away from me."

"Shut up," you scoffed, though a slight smirk pulled from your lips as you walked away from him, shimming between the people in the bleachers.

Simon couldn't help the smirk that simultaneously pulled at his lips, though it quickly dissipated as he saw you lean over the fence to talk to the bull rider you were so hell-bent on watching. 

The guy's fingers reaching over to straighten your slightly lopsided hat about made Simon reach out to break the very fingers he used.

It didn't matter that there were now about five women surrounding him, showering him with compliments. All he felt was a pang of heat in his chest, like a knife turning in a fresh wound.

He'd be damned if he let this cheesehead take his girl. 

"Hey, Simon. Is that—" One of the cowboys with Simon questioned, as he dipped his head towards you, barreling towards the pen he was in, anger written all over your face, crushed magazine in hand. 

"Sure is," Simon smirked, tongue poking into his cheek with amusement. He dismounted from the horse, taking his hat off as he approached you. "Hey, Babydoll. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What the hell is this?" You grit, shoving the magazine in his face. 

"Looks like a tabloid," he simply says.

You pull the magazine back, reading the front cover. "Acclaimed bull rider Simon Riley trades rodeo for romance as he's seen cozied up with a local country girl as PBR tour starts to wrap up in Texas," you snap. 

"Why on God's green Earth is this sayin' we're datin','" you say through gritted teeth. 

"Simple. I told them we were," he shrugs.

"You did what?" You bark, face burning in anger. 

"Eh, my publicist wanted me to chat with some news station, and they asked about ya," he plainly says. 

"What exactly did you say?" You urge impatiently. 

"That we were involved," his voice was full of unambiguity.

"You—you're a damn, a damn—" You drift off, voice searching, unable to even conjure any words. 

"Come on, Babydoll. Don't get so bent out of shape. Technically, we have been involved," he gruffs, eyebrows raising cheekily.

Oh, so he thinks this is all some big joke.

You grip the collar of his simple white shirt, pulling him down to eye level. "Ya better get on your knees and pray that this hasn't reached the townsfolk yet," you snarl. "Or, with God as my witness, I will snip your balls off just like one of those damn steers."

You let go of him roughly, shoving him back slightly, turning on your heels to leave, yelling back, 'Get your fancy PR team to deal with this, Dumbass.'

This is followed by many snickers from the other cowboys still in the pen, who have witnessed the show that was you snapping Simon into place. 

"Well, hell, Simon, you didn't tell us you got yourself a little firecracker," one of the other cowboys roars, hitting Simon in the chest playfully when he returns to them.

"She ain't no firecracker. She's a damn stick of dynamite," Simon remarks, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. 

It had been two weeks or so since you had last seen Simon. And, along with him, that tabloid bullshit had since gone dormant. You had to hand it to him, he made the whole story disappear into thin air. 

Well, with the help of his many connections. 

The air felt crisp and refreshing, not having that asshat around to taint it. You could get used to this. Hell, who knows, maybe you would never have to see the smug bastard again.

"Hey, Babydoll," Simon quips. "Long time, no see."

You spin on your heels, turning to him, a mixture of surprise and annoyance evident in your expression. 

"Why are you back in town?" You exasperate.

"Finals," he states, his eyes glinting with determination. 

"You actually qualified?" You snarkily remark, eyes finally taking note of his chaps, padding, and mouthguard hanging out of his mouth by his teeth.

"Babydoll, I'm not just good; I'm one of the best damn riders in the country," he proclaims with a confident smirk. 

You roll your eyes. "And a humble one at that," you say, eyes wondering behind him to see one of your friends in the audience waiting for you.

“Break a leg, Beef-head," you quickly spew, patting him on the chest before you walk away. 

"See, I have a gut feelin' you really do want me to break a leg," he yells back to you. 

"Always trust your gut," you exclaim, not sparing him a glance as you approach your seat. 

He smiles before making his way to the arena, but not before glancing at you one last time on the bleachers before securing his helmet on and going straight into the fray.

You shouldn't even be surprised. 

Not even a little bit.

Simon's victory was not just a win but a triumph that catapulted him to the pinnacle of bull riding. Now, he was one of the most sought-after bull riders on the planet, a title that came with a deluge of attention. 

You begrudgingly expected that. 

But you didn't foresee the enthusiasm of the women attached, each making a bold attempt to catch Simon's eye. Dressed to the nines, they were all vying for even a moment of his attention.

You thought you should at least congratulate him a little, so you walked over to the gate where he would leave, but hell, it seemed you weren't the only one. 

These women were not just there; they were making an effort. They batted their lashes, puckered their lips, and pulled their tops slightly lower, hoping to catch his eye.

To his credit, he was too consumed with the numerous news outlets and interviewers shoveling microphones and cameras in his face and asking him how it felt to receive this distinguished honor to notice them. 

Well, until his publicist pulled him away from the throng of people, guiding him quickly out of the arena. All of the women immediately surrounded him, showering him with compliments, fingers delicately running across his biceps. 

"You did so good, Si," one woman mewls.

"How you gonna celebrate your win, Bigboy?" Another woman coos, lashes fluttering. 

"I'm sure he has big plans," the first woman answers, eyebrows raising.

It was pathetic, but you couldn't pull your attention away. 

As the women surrounded him, their flirtatious gestures and polished nails caressing him, you felt a sinking sensation in your stomach. You couldn't understand why, but the longer they lingered, the more you struggled to tear your gaze away.

His cheeky smirk only made it worse. It was clear he was reveling in the attention. It felt like a betrayal, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy and anger. 

You were thinking of simply walking away, your head already clearing at the thought of not seeing him for a while, until one of the women leaned in to press a lipstick-covered kiss to his lips. 

Before you knew it, your feet were moving, and you were pushing through the women to get to him. You grabbed his hand, your grip tight with desperation, and pulled him away.

His eyes lit up when he saw you, and his hand returned the contact and wrapped it around yours tightly. 

"Where we goin', Babydoll?" He coaxed, with a flirty undertone. 

You don't respond; you move faster toward the line of portable restrooms behind the bleachers. Many Patreons attempt to talk to Simon on the way, but you don't stop, and he doesn't either.

Once you reach one of the vacant portable restrooms, you quickly twist the latch, open the door, and pull Simon inside swiftly. You reach behind him and twist the lock to show that the stall is occupied.

Your hands were racing, fingers reaching to undo each button on his long sleeve.

"Thought you were pissed at me?" He murmurs. And, fuck does it tick you off because you can just hear the smugness in his tone. You look up at him; his pupils have dilated. 

"I am," you grit, hands moving to unclasp his buckle.

"Not too pissed to sneak me off to have sex. Huh?" He tuts, his hands moving to unclasp your belt, slipping your denim jeans down.

"Stop talkin,'" you snarled. He smirks, dipping his head to meet your lips. You turn away slightly, hands haphazardly moving to grab a piece of toilet paper and swiping it across his lips to get rid of the lipstick smudged.

He lets out a dry laugh, gripping the waistband of the underwear, snapping the band of your underwear back onto your sensitive skin. In response, you let out a breathy whine, hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Oh. I see," he begins, quickly slipping his hat off to hang on the hook by the toilet, bringing his lips to run across the skin of your neck lightly. "You markin' your territory, Babydoll?" He whispers; his hot breath fanning your skin sends shivers down your spine.

One of your hands moves to thread through the back of his light hair, gently tugging on the roots, while the other moves to rest on the back of his neck. "And, if I am?" You whisper.

He pulls you closer to him, his clothed cock pressing against you.

"It's about damn time," he sneered, as his teeth lightly nipped the skin on your neck. You issue a breathy moan directly in his ear that sets him off.

In one swift motion, he pulls down his jeans and boxers frantically, desperate to feel you around him. He's sliding down your underwear so it pools around your ankles, gripping you by the back of your thighs, picking you up before easing himself into your dripping cunt. You're quick to cross your ankles behind his back. 

You both moan at the contact as your lips find his greedy ones. Your teeth are clashing, chest heaving as he drills into you, all while his tongue tangles with your own, teeth occasionally tugging on your own.

His fingers are digging deeply into the meat of your thighs—you're sure to have bruises tomorrow, but you don't care, not even a little bit, because you couldn't even stop even if you wanted to; it felt too good.

"Fuck, Baby. I've been—ah—thinkin' about this for weeks," Simon groaned into your lips, as his pace picked up. "Needed you so bad."

You let out a moan that he catches in another groan. His lips move to press deep kisses onto your neck, even licking a stripe with his tongue, all the while movements only increase in speed.

"I'm—I'm so close," you whine, already feeling your impending orgasm approaching. 

"I know, Baby. I know," he grits through his teeth as he feels his orgasm near. 

He plows into you one last time before you both come simultaneously, him growing into your skin, as you moan into his hair. You take a second to recuperate, legs slightly shaky as he sets you back on the ground.

"You know everyone saw you drag me in here, right?" He leers, pulling his boxers and jeans back up and clasping his belt.

Your eyes widen. You hadn't even thought about what you were doing, you had just reacted. "Shit," you exasperate. "The tabloids are goin' to have a field day with this. I don't—"

He tips his head towards you, bending down to ease your underwear and jeans back on. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it," he plainly says.

You release a received sigh. "Thanks. I appreciate that, Beef-head."

"Welcome, Babydoll," he smiles as he buttons his shirt.

A brief pause occurred in the conversation as you both finished dressing. As Simon placed his hat back on, his eyes locked back to yours, a smirk growing on his lips.

"Now will ya let me take ya out to dinner?" He asked with a playful tone. 

You titled your head to the side, letting out a dry laugh. "You askin' me on a date?"

He shrugs. "Suppose I am," he begins. "What do ya say?"

You press your finger to your chin, an inquisitive expression on your face. "I say no."

His expression twists in confusion, maybe almost hurt. "No?"

You laugh, hand coming to rest over your heart in amusement. "I'm just busting your balls, Beef-head. I'll go on the date with ya," you cackle.

He lets out a deep sigh of relief, muttering, "Hell, you're gonna be the death of me."

Maybe this entanglement you found yourself in with Simon wouldn't be so bad after all.

a/n: thank u for the submission and ur kind words! i hope u like what i cooked up:)) side note, my bestie queen, @artemis-b-writes , helped me in making this! this also became longer than i originally intended, but oh well! also, divider!

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[starryylies]

Had a thought of Simon becoming the little spoon after a very difficult and painful mission. (Not in the subby sexual way tho)

Simon who becomes the little spoon after a very difficult mission just so he can hear your heartbeat, just so he knows you’re alive and breathing, Just so he knows you’re actually there with him and not a bewitching fever dream he doesn’t wanna wake up from

[msilwrites]

LOL!!! This is so cuteee!!!

Idk how to type with a Scottish/British accent! :"")

Anywhooo~ enjoy!!

[doeidawn]

doeidawn's kinkmas day four ❆ mutual masturbation

KINKMAS 2024 | PREVIOUS DAY | NEXT DAY

instating a "no closed doors" rule in your apartment comes with an exciting consequence. 2.3k

❆ pairing: roommate!ghost x fem!reader

❆ tags: MDNI/18+; simon's a little bitchy; slight exhibitionism(?); interrupted masturbation; handjob; fingering

So maybe you were being a bit of an asshole about the new rule in the apartment. But, in your own defense, you didn’t want to pay more for the heat if you didn’t have to. Sure, Simon probably could’ve covered it—you recall him offering to pay the increase last time you nagged him. But the best outcome would be the one where no one pays more, right?

So, yes, you were a kind of an asshole about keeping the doors open in the apartment once it started to get colder. All rooms (excluding the bathroom when occupied) were to be kept open at all times. An even, warm air flow meant everything was nice and comfortable all of the time. There was no hoarding heat in this apartment. 

Simon was not a fan of this rule. And you knew he wouldn’t be when you were gathering the courage to tell him for the first time. He was a fine roommate, but one who needed privacy. He had to be alone and keep to himself every now and again. You weren’t sure if it had to do with that job he was so secretive about or if he was just…a little strange. Maybe it was a little of both.

Either way, the new rule implementation caused its fair share of arguments. You’d walk down the hall to see the door to his room shut, then roll your eyes and huff before banging on the door until he opened it. And every time you were met with the same annoyed stare.

If you don’t want me pounding on the door, keep it open. You must’ve told him it a dozen times by this point. 

But he slowly started to learn. Slowly. Eventually he broke the habit of shutting the door behind him. As the days went on, there were less doors left for you to either open yourself or bang on until he opened it for you.

Including today, when you look down the hall to notice his bedroom door ajar. There’s a sigh of relief from your mouth. Thank God. But it’s not until you start on your way to your own room that you hear…something coming from within his.

It sounds like Simon, a deep sound, something gruff and strained. You think you hear him curse before there’s a rumbling groan. At first, you wonder if he might be hurt. The guy was so secretive about his work and hobbies, coming back with bruises and scars you could only imagine the source of, so it would be no surprise if he was hurt and trying to hide it.

You tiptoe over to his doorway. Standing outside for a moment, you listen in and hear another whispered curse. There’s a wet sound accompanying his gruff noises, a rhythmic slap that makes your face hot when you realize the source of it. Curiosity gets the better of you. He’s the one with his door wide open, you pitifully excuse in your head as you peer past the propped open door. 

Simon’s laying on his bed in the dim room, one hand wrapped around his thick cock and pumping lazily. There’s a sheen of spit or lube or something wet that glistens in the light from the hallway, no doubt the culprit of that lewd, wet sound you hear. Another deep rumble of pleasure from his chest almost has you clenching your thighs together, especially when his hips rise off the mattress to buck into his own hand.

Out of all the details you notice that you’re sure you’ll never forget, you fail to see your shadow cast over his reclined body. The very thing that alerted him to your presence, and your peeping.

“‘s not polite to stare,” he grumbles. You almost don’t comprehend that he’s talking to you at first. 

When his heavy eyes look your way, you finally avert your gaze. Looking at his door like it had become the most fascinating thing in the world, you clear your throat. “D’you, uh…want me to shut the door?”

“Oh, well, I would’ve already,” a squelch from the wetness in his hand tells you he’s still stroking himself while he talks, “but then you’d yell at me. Thought I’d do you a favor n’ keep it open.”

“Y-you don’t have to…not while you’re—”

“Y’gonna keep standin’ there or are you gonna c’mere and join me?”

What? It takes all of your willpower to focus on his eyes when you look back at him, the steady movement of his hand visible in your periphery. “W-what?”

“Well, any other roommate would’ve slammed the door shut n’ left already, don’t you think?”

Your mouth opens and shuts like a fish out of water, a myriad of excuses sitting on the tip of your tongue. But none of them manage to stumble out. He was right, someone less interested probably would’ve walked away already. Would he even believe you if you came up with an excuse? Probably not. Was the smartest move to just walk away? Probably. 

But you’d be damned before you throw away the opportunity presenting itself. So, against all better judgement, you shuffle into his room with a sigh. No need to shut the door for privacy, you remind yourself.

You watch Simon shift on his bed, his hand stilling on his cock long enough to motion for you. “Atta girl. C’mere.”

Your legs feel unsteady as you crawl onto the open spot next to him on his bed. The way his eyes rake over you make you feel exposed despite being the one still fully clothed. A chill runs through you that no amount of heat in the room would quell. 

“So,” you start, trying to ignore the awkwardness that made your voice waver. “D’you want me to…” You gesture towards his crotch and can’t help but stare at the way his wrist twists on every upstroke. 

“I mean, if you’re offerin’...” He holds his hands in the air in a mock-surrender, as if giving himself over to you. “But only if I can return the favor.”

Your face runs hot imagining his hands on your body in response to your touch. You hadn’t even felt him yet and you already knew you wanted to make him cum, wanted to be the reason he moaned and whined. With no reason to deny him, you settle against the mattress with a sigh and run a hand down his hip. 

There was no need to tease or work him up; he’d already done most of the work for you. Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock and glide up, aided with what you think is lube already coating his flesh. The deep rumbling moan that comes from his chest is complimented by the way he throbs against your hand.

“That’s it…” Simon encourages you with his fingers splayed on your thigh. His other hand rests atop yours, dwarfing yours as he shows you how fast to pump his cock. “There you go, stroke it just like that.”

He was much more vocal once it was your hand on him. Whether because it was a foreign touch or because your hand had to be so much softer than his, you weren’t sure. Either way, he was mumbling curses and encouragement between every other moan you drew from him. To say it boosted your ego was an understatement, but it also had you so unbearably hot you had to squeeze your thighs together to ease the throbbing ache between them.

He must’ve noticed the tension in your body, because the hand on your thigh slides up to tug on your clothes. Too impatient and horny to refuse, you aid him in removing all the fabric below your waist, exposing your own body just as much as he had.

Simon groans when your legs spread, sucking in a sharp breath between his teeth. He wastes no time seeking out your cunt, thick fingers spreading you apart and running through your slick. “Always wondered what you looked like,” he mutters. “Even prettier than I imagined.”

You couldn’t dwell on the implications of that right now. You can’t think straight long enough to process anything aside from the feel of two of his fingers teasing your hole. Your lack of objection and the incessant twitch of your hips gives him all the confirmation he needs. 

In a quick movement that takes your breath away, he pushes those two fingers in, spearing deep inside your cunt. Your hand tightens around his cock in unintentional reflex, and the new grip nearly makes him choke on his moan. The hand lazily covering yours squeezes tight to encourage your rougher grasp as you stroke him in time with the pump of his fingers in your cunt.

“Shit, you’re so tight…bet you’d be even tighter ‘round my dick,” he mutters with his jaw set tight. 

You mimic his earlier movements, twisting your wrist on the upstroke, watching his hips lift to chase the sensation of your hand. “Mm, you’d stretch me so good with this cock, Simon. I bet you’d fill me perfectly.”

“Fuck, yes. I’d fill you so good, baby. Make you cum on my cock ‘til you’re screamin’.”

His fingers curl in a movement that makes you keen, pressing just right to make your cunt flutter around his digits. Your thighs tense, clamping around his arm instinctively. You don’t want it to stop, but the sudden shockwaves of pleasure surprise your body. Your hips rock into his hand as silent encouragement.

“Oh, you liked that, huh?” His voice bites as he teases you. “Like thinkin’ about me splittin’ you open and fuckin’ you?” All you can offer in response is a pathetic nod of your head and a soft ‘mm-hmm’. “Fuck, me too. I think about you all the time, y’know. ‘bout bendin’ you over the counter n’ fuckin’ you stupid. Or wonderin’ how pretty you’d look bouncin’ on my cock.”

You can’t hide the way you cunt tightens around his fingers at his confession. Your mind runs wild conjuring up images as he explains his fantasies. It’s dirty and depraved, but, God help you, it’s everything you could ever want from him. 

“Christ, I wish you would,” you whine. “Wish you would just bend me over and fuck me.”

“Yeah? You’d let me?” Simon groans when your hand speeds up in response. “This pussy would take me so good, wouldn’t it? All wet and ready for my cock…”

His fingers slide out, ignore your protesting whine to spread you open. He pats your swollen clit with two firm strikes; not enough to hurt, but just enough to make you yelp and jerk your hips. Then he’s sinking his fingers right back into you, giving you no time to savor it before pumping them in and out, aligning the pace of his hand with yours. 

Pressure starts to build in your core, hot and tense, mounting with each thrust of his fingers. “Hah, Si…” You don’t mean to moan his name, but it feels so right on your tongue.

“Gonna cum, aren’t you? Fuck, you’re squeezin’ my hand, baby…”

Your grip on his starts to falter, all of your attention focused on the unrelenting pleasure between your legs. “Si, please, fuck—”

“Don’t stop, I’m right there with you. Wanna cum with you.” The hand covering yours grips you tight, guiding your hand firmly around his cock. His hips lift to meet the difference, fucking into your palm as you languidly stroke. “There you go, make me cum. Make me cum while I fuck this pretty cunt.”

His fingers hit deep, brushing against that spot up top on the downstroke. He hits it over and over, each time forcing a moan from your lips. It only takes a few more of his focused thrusts to make you cum, gripping his digits tight as your slick floods his hand in sticky gushes. 

Your hand must tighten around him as the rest of your body tenses. His words quickly turn to incoherent moans and grunts as he uses the last of his energy to fuck your hand. You look over just in time with your heavy to see his cock jerk in your hand before spilling his cum over your fingers. He pays no mind to the few drops that land on his stomach, only concerned about the sight of your small hand painted white.

You both lay there for a moment, panting as you give your cum-covered hands a break. There’s a million questions running through your head as soon as the fog of lust clears. You didn’t have the energy to worry about most of them right now. 

Except one. “Do you really think about me when you get off?”

Simon laughs at that, almost like he can’t believe you’re asking him. “Yeah. Most of the time.” You must give him an incredulous look, because he shrugs his shoulders once his eyes meet yours. “I’m a simple man with a hot roommate. I dunno what you expect.”

Your fingers brush over his cock in one last teasing stroke before you pull your hand away. He’s not as eager to seperate so soon, deciding to leave his hand on your thigh as you sit up. “I expect a man like you to be brave enough to ask me for sex instead of resorting to your hand.”

“Well, we’re halfway there. A’least it was your hand this time.” You roll your eyes at that. “Alright. Keep your door open next time you think about me. Maybe then you’ll get your expectations met.”You didn’t say it out loud, but you wanted to shout ‘deal!’ and make sure he kept up his end of the bargain. But you didn’t have to wonder—you were sure he’d take full advantage of the “open doors” rule. In fact, he might be an even bigger advocate for it than you are now.

[willowed-wisp]

relationship headcanons [ ghost ]

SFW

- You didn’t know what to expect being set up by your childhood friend Kyle Garrick

- Having an inkling it would be someone he worked with in the ‘parachute regiment’. So you expected 5’11”, stocky build and maybe a Mohawk?

- What you got was 6’4”, unable to tell what build he had because of the hoodies and a mask?

- He scared you to begin with, especially when you heard his voice. And Simon was used to that, that’s why he didn’t date… he couldn’t remember the last time he had sex or even spoke romantically to a woman.

- You thought about walking out on the date, but held in there. Realising maybe he was so awkward around the other people in the pub. “Wanna take a walk?”

- “Think you can keep up?” That was the first confident thing Simon had said that night.

- Maybe walking along the canal wasn’t the best choice but he seemed harmless, not a serial killer… He leant against the railings… his eyes reflected the street lamp, the night a dreary sight.

- You went to start your car, no such luck- like your date. He hadn’t told you one thing about himself… date failed and now your car refused to work with you. Your phone at 1% charge… you couldn’t even call a taxi.

- When you started to walk to the pub, an off-road jet black 4x4 pulled up beside you. It was Simon. “Car trouble?”

- “Yeah…”

- “Get in.” Was it a bad idea to jump into the car of someone you’d only just met and communicated with through Kyle? Yes. Were you in any position to turn down his kindness? No. “I’ll drive ya home…”

- Then the pin dropped, “My house keys are in the car,” A dry laugh came from him- trying to imagine what he looked like under that thing.

- “I can’t leave you on the street…” And that’s what led you straight into the passenger seat. His truck was spotless and surprisingly comfortable, like nobody had ever sat in that spot before you. “You can stay at mine for the night, don’t tell Garrick… he’ll have a field day….”

- “Thanks, but you could just drop me at a bus stop?” Not that you wanted that, not that you wanted anything from the good samaritan at the wheel.

- His head shook, “In this area? No chance, love,” You wondered how long he had travelled to go on this date because he had been driving half an hour before he pulled into a drive. From how he looked around getting out of the car and how high the garden hedge was, you thought it was lucky he hadn’t thrown a bag over your head.

- Not that you’d remember where he had taken you anyway.

- His house was almost barren, not many belongings. “Kitchen is on your left, living room on the right and bathroom is upstairs the first door you see…” He was talking much more than he had in the crowded environment.

- “D’ya have a phone charger? I’ll call Kyle to come get me tomorrow to look at the car…” He just gave you a stare, then you realised. Kyle didn’t live in your area anymore, over a hundred miles away. “Fuck…”

- “I’ll take a look at it in the morning…”

- “You sure? I can pay you fuel money,”

- Long story short, Simon turned down your money. And he kept coming back after he fixed your car, jotting your number down in case it gave you any more trouble.

- He doesn’t take his mask off until you have sex for the first time

- After that he rarely wears it when in private with you

- It’s weird when you have guests over (TF141) and he wears the damned thing

- You make sure you wash the masks every other day and make sure Simon alternates

- Never gets spots from them, either.

- Has tattoos but would never get a matching one with anyone

- He thinks it’s a jinx on any relationship or friendship

- You’re probably his first proper relationship

- Discloses he’s in the SAS when he gets deployed about a year into your relationship

- You never realised how worried sick you’d be until he got through the front door

- Bundles you in his arms, never taking the smell of your hair, perfume and skin for granted again

- Fixes all of your car troubles- he may have gone into mechanics had he had a settled childhood

- Finds it difficult to introduce you to the family, not because of you. Because of the baggage.

- His mother welcomed you but with caution in hand. Until you got talking to her and she just seemed to open up to you.

- She invites you round for dinner every Sunday. It makes Simon smile

- Never worked through his emotional baggage about his dad

- So when the subject of kids is brought up, he shudders

- You don’t press the matter, not with Simon

- He’s stubborn and you seem to be the only one who can change his mind

- Simon doesn’t fall in love easily but when he does, it’s deep and he’s never leaving your side

- Much more of a goofball than other people see- those dad jokes are primed and ready for an occasion

- Not a jealous guy, he knows you’re his…

- He’s more worried about you when he’s away

- It’s like a hole in his heart being away from you and he strives to get out uninjured and alive not to burden you

- Knows that if you can get past his work, you’ll get through anything

NSFW

- Your first time was very spontaneous, two months into you seeing him.

- The back of his car, you couldn’t remember the cause of it but you remember making out in the back of his truck

- Going out into the woodlands to cool off but instead, you were hitched on his hips and fingers dragging across his muscular shoulders.

- Clung to each other while his body rolled into yours, you biting down slightly on his clothes. Instead of purring his into the daylight air.

- It didn’t end there, the back of the truck and back at his.

- Practically never ending until the morning… where you’d lay on his chest. He was stroking through your hair

- Whenever he’s asleep, he recounts those memories and every encounter after that.. just so he can be close to you when away

- Surprisingly gentle- knows he’s a big guy

- Though he’s not without his rugged potential. Prefers not to be too rough

- Has sexual experience but nothing above 5 women and then it wasn’t reoccurring

- Doesn’t have a vice for sex, he loves feeling close to you

- Loves facing you, he loves that intimacy

- He’s quite an intimate guy

- Never wears the mask when you have sex

- If you ask him, he refuses… finds it difficult to open up about work and his experiences

- Closer than anybody else would be able to get, over his dead body

————

cod m.list | request guidelines | ghost m.list

[babybimbo777]

oh im sick im gonna smooch ur brain i love it sm

cw: choking, mentions of hickeys, p in v, some submission from Simon, creampie, very slight mention of death, hinted rough sex? mentions of sweat, mentions of drool

Simon choking you and this, Simon choking you and that but what about you choking Simon? His veiny monster cock fucking so deep inside of you it was twattish, penetrating and destroying you with such vigour and need you had nothing to defend yourself with- nothing to hold onto to and stable yourself.

Snatching your hands up to his thick neck and placing your soft palms around his sweaty, hickey-scattered skin. Your pretty, little fingertips not able to wrap around him fully from how big and muscular he was, but with the amount of pressure you applied, you choked him anyway. Feeling his rapid pulse against your hand, making your sticky cunt tighten around him helplessly.

He couldn’t refrain himself from going harder than before, the loud creak of your bed echoing the quiet house and you were sure your neighbours were going to kill you-but how were you supposed to stop now? You fucking couldn’t; you didn't want to.

Watching as his flushed cheeks turned a dark mahogany, feeling the tremble and twitch of his body against yours, pinning you down and you suddenly realised what you had done. A shameless gasp leaving his throat pathetically as you quickly let go. Sexy body sinking into the mattress as you wished the material could swallow you- capture you and shield you from the memories of what you just did. It was irrational- a stupid action done without thinking- it was embarrassing.

How could you let yourself get out of control like that? Choking Simon Riley- a fucking military Lieutenant- you were lucky he didnt slap you across the face. Were you stupid? Your head spiralled in regret but before your thoughts could pester and consume you fully his own scarred hand snatched yours back. Dragging your arm and jolting your body up as held you in place, reuniting your with the warm flesh of his neck.

Brown, hazy, eyes pleading you to strangle him again, suffocate him, make him pass out deep inside your pussy. He liked how you made him feel, his heart pounding with adrenaline from the sudden rush it gave him and his mind melting with submission. Grab his fucking throat and make him your bitch. Make him cry, make him wheeze and cough once you let go.

You hesitantly choked him again, your body overcoming with pleasure as you forgot about what you were doing and where your hands were. Fucking yourself against him and fingers tightening as your eyes shut about to cum. Losing it as you heard a strained ‘Fuck’ fall from his lips: He couldn’t fucking breathe. He was seeing stars.

Unapologetically flooding you with warmth, filling you up before crushing you with his big body. So tired and worn out from the sex, chasing back the breaths you’d stolen from him. Oh god, it felt like heaven to him, his brain feeling so tight and achy- lightheaded with ecstasy. Next time you had do it with your thighs instead- leave him with as little air as possible, leave him with nothing to do but pant and dribble over your pussy when you loosen your hold. Choke him until his lungs give out, let him breath from the air you accompany him with- he didn’t deserve you.

You could kill him like that and he’d thank you in the afterlife.

[noahdrawsalot]

I went down the rabbit hole of stupid shirts….

[simonriley09]

PLEASEEE HEAR ME OUT.

how about.. inexperienced ghost whos SO sensitive x VERY experienced reader who knows how to really make him feel good..PLEASEEE

SCREAMING. YOU GUYS HAVE THE BEST IDEASSS Ghost and you have been slightly good friends since you both joined the army, it was clear you weren't a virgin. You were confident, stood proud and was... very pretty... Ghost on the other hand was also pretty confident, silent but rugged. One night over a beer he drunkenly admitted he's a virgin and now you won't stop teasing him about it. It got so bad you started pinching anywhere sensitive you could, his nipples, inner thighs, ass, abs literally everywhere! and it would get him hard... thank god he wore 2 pairs of boxers that day. You guys went out for another beer the next evening.. so now here we are, Ghost is sitting under you, his pants and boxers removed showing his embarrassingly hard erection leaking pre-cum. You're in the midst of shimmying out of your panties when he lets out a small whimper, making you look at him with a grin. "If you whimper like a puppy i'll treat you like one." You told him, which made his cock twitch. "Oh?, you like that idea?... Puppy?" He just nodded, staring at the curve of your hips.

You looked at your discarded pants on the floor and saw the belt on the floor and took it, walking over to him and straddling his hips. He grabbed the fat of your hips and looked up at you, his cock nudging and twitching against your dripping slit. You tied the belt into handcuffs and a choker (idk what it's called) and secured it tight. You pushed him back roughly making him whimper again, his cock getting cold from the rush of air. "You wanna fuck me Puppy?" He nodded. "Mhm!"

"Show me how much you want it." You said, tugging on the handcuffs. Ghost bucked his hips up once and his cock slipped in, it was... so big. You could practically feel him in your throat and that was just the tip, Ghost's toes were already curling in pleasure. He let out a small moan and you slowly sank down more, his girth and length stretching you further than anyone did. After a few minutes you started getting rhythm, turning Ghost into a whimpering mess under you. It only lasted about 30 seconds until he came, which embarrassed him but you didn't care, you kept riding him, overstimulating the poor guy. He did seem to enjoy being called puppy though...

You kept riding him, he hit all the right places without even trying. He might just become your new fuck buddy. You thought to yourself. Just as you were thinking he came again, the second time he came inside you. He shuddered, hips stuttering and toes curling as he moaned. Yup. Fuck buddy indeed.

[ghostybaby000]

Gone | Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: 18+, fighting, cursing, general violence, symptoms of panic, knife violence, drugging

Part one above! (Sorry it took me so long to post, I promise I'm writing more as this is posted!)

Tag List: @yyiikes @talooolaaloolla @strawberrygato @cumsluut @sofiacoppolaslut @blackbeautyiloveyouso @casalucard @identity2212 @daydreamerwoah @lily-bug3 @sage-burrow

He sees you behind the man, on the floor. That cold, dirty floor. The floor that’s meant for the bottom of shoes, not your soft gentle skin. John goes to step forward, Ghosts hand outstretches before him, the other 2 men move into the light of the poorly lit room.

‘Grab her, and get out.’ Ghosts voice cut through the room like ice, there was no hint of kindness, his eyes never leaving the men in the room. John takes a moment looking between the three men, one was slightly…familiar.

Ghosts hand drops as a man from the right moves into the light, his hand resting on his side, a weapon. The more aggravated man now sounded cool and relaxed when he spoke from behind them.

‘No, no. Let him take her, we don’t need her.’ There’s a shuffle as the man steps aside, his hand never leaving his side. 

John doesn’t say anything to Ghost, instead he moves past the man- who’s eyes flickered between the two of them, this was the nervous one. John took one knee down to gently scoop you up. He lifted you into his arms as he walked towards the exit, passing Ghost only giving him a nod before reaching the door, he had remembered where he was from. 

You feel fuzzy when you wake, the room was hot, and you were uncomfortable all over. Your vision blurs as your being lifted-Simon? No.

No this wasn’t Simon, who was this? You force your eyes to open just a little more, it was John but, there was Simon. Who was that man he was looking at? Your vision sways as you move through the poorly lit room, objects and people blurring together.  Johns back was used to push open the door, you could see Simon and the other man, your vision only becoming more hazy. 

Your ears were filled with music and rides, and Johns voice telling you that it was okay, as you strained to remember what could of happened.  You try to say his name as you move out of the room in Johns arms… Not finding the strength you slump into his frame, as loud noise filled your ears, and you feel the cool of the night pull you into a sleep. 

John walks you outside, looking both directions he feels conflicted. He only looks back to the door for a moment, hearing a clash that made his own hairs raise. He looks to you, there were no cuts or scrapes that he could see but he knew that you had been through enough. He gently makes his way through the people, ensuring that you didn’t hit your head on anything or get knocked around by the movement.

 He makes it out to the parking lot where he finds his car, his date had driven separately. He opens the car door to the back seat as he places you down, he lets out his breath. He stands tall over the car, looking back to the park as his mind fights the urge to go back. 

John watches the clock on the center consol click by as every minute leaves him in anticipation. His knee bounces even as his hand tries to steady it, glancing every few minutes to ensure you hadn’t vanished from the back seat. Looking in his rear view mirror relief comes over him, for a moment.

Ghost was holding his side as he made his way to the car in a hurry, and had something in his hand. John steps out of the car immediately and makes his way to close the last five feet between them. John looked to Ghost and saw nothing but pure angry hatred, one that he had seen in other men, and knew just how dangerous it was. Ghost was breathing heavy as he got closer, he was covered in blood smears from his face down to his fists. He noticed now it was a bear he was holding. 

‘She’s all right.’ Is all that he can think to say as he motions to the back of the car. Ghost moved past him to look into the window, cupping his hand around the glass to see you. Johns voice broke him from his trance,

‘Was that who I think it was?’ Ghost took a breath, coughing before getting to inhale fully. He spat blood while looking back up to John, straightening his back as his brows furrowed in discomfort. He placed the bloodied bear on the top of the car, and then looked to the ground, his own vision swaying ever so slightly as he tried to recall what happened.

Ghost watches the three men standing around him, his attention at an all time high. The door clicked behind him; you were safe. The man from his right lunges at him, both hands splayed in an attempt to take him to the ground. Ghost moves to the side, essentially throwing the man to the ground, a reflex built on years of training. The second man now ran at him as well, this time making contact and pushing Ghost backwards and into a wall. The first man had recovered now as Ghosts hands fly to the mans collar. His eyes are aflame with rage, his fear entirely turned to adrenaline, they tried to take you.

He rips the man down over his knee before he hits the floor beside him, a groan of loud pain filling the small space. The other man across from him unsheathes a small blade that was on his side, his eyes watching Ghosts body, trying to predict him. His eyes never leave the man with the blade as he rolls his neck, the second man moving to his knees painfully. The man with the blade charges Ghost, his forearm taking the slice from the blade, and landing his own punch to the gut of the man, sending him backwards hunched over. His vision was beginning to line with red, the anger and hatred was pushing him into a blind rage that told him these men wouldn’t be leaving this room. 

 He hears the scraping of metal as seconds later a dense object hits him in the back, and forces him to his knees. The feeling of pain tickled his senses as it began to spread up his spine, and to the base of his neck. Turning around swiftly he sees the second man rearing to again hit him with an abandoned metal pipe, the other man regaining his footing.

With his back searing, he forces through the movements, grabbing the pipe as it came towards his head, he pushes back up to his feet. The pain was gone now, replaced with a numbness that had overcome his senses as he kicks the man holding the pipe, sending him into the wall. His knee gives out as the other man kicks it in from behind. He recovers quickly, pushing himself forward and back up to his feet. Gripping on to the pipe, he swings over his shoulder, making contact with the man now moving to stab him in his side. The man slammed backwards to the floor, blood erupting from the slice across his upper forehead down to his brow, his blade skittering across the floor. 

Without thinking Ghost moves to the other man, now slumped against the wall on the floor, and kicks his head, once then twice, discarding the metal pipe as he turns around, both men unconscious. The sound of clapping breaks his focus as the third mans voice filled the room again. 

‘Ah yes…you’ve always had a knack for fighting, Simon.’ Ghost knew that voice, and he was able to place it now, bringing him back into his early days of training. 

[machveil]

absolute doofuses (I’ll take five (5) of each)

💖 babygirl ghoap 💖 // warzone “kawaii” emote

[maryangelex]

Part 2 of assistant!reader

(or loser!reader but I feel bad lol lmk which you prefer) since you guys loved it so much!

assistant!reader who is shellshocked by the sight of the large masked man who said no words to her but a muffled grunt on her first day on the job.

not to discredit the other 2 boys but you get along the best with your (very gentlemanly and handsome) captain, and when he asks you about how your first day went and you tell him about the “big man with the mask”, all he does is chuckle and tell you how he’s his best man on the team and not to be fooled by his appearance. but of course that’s hard for you to believe.

on your second week working there you see Johnny and Kyle again when they pass by to give their weekly reports and that’s just as much as you see of them unless they’re meeting with price. but you can’t say the same about “Ghost”, who comes in during the middle of the week to drop off the file containing his report but…it’s nowhere near complete. where are the remaining 15 pages of this thing?! You’d think the “best man” would know better than to leave his work unfinished.

the next day he’s dropping off another 5 pages continuous of the first few he gave you the day before. you huff when he turns on his heel and walks away without a word again, just silently hands you the folder and carries on his day. and the same happens the day after that and the one after that also until bit by bit the report is complete.

you’re on your third week working there and ghost carries on his daily routine of incomplete reports, now adds a courteous “give you the next one tomorrow” and it’s the first time you hear his low, baritone voice that makes your face hot, but doesn’t stop you from being annoyed. doesn’t he know it’s much easier to get it all done at once rather than turn in every 5 pages and have to…come back…every day…? wait…

just then it dawns on you that maybe he’s not stupid, maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing. but you don’t have it in you to really believe he’d make that effort to just see you. That’s ridiculous! You?! Of course not… so you push the thought to the back of your mind, and ghost continues his charade.

and all he can think of is how he looks forward to seeing your face even if it means being facetious with his work.

[starryylies]

Simon just the tip Riley

Spreading out virgin! reader’s pussy out just by his thick head

Hushed promises of

“It’ll fit like a glove princess”

“Don’t’cha worry m gonna make yr little cunt feel so good”

And praises like

“Yr’ gonna milk me dry in less than a minute if ya grip on me so tight baby”

soon turn to Simon just the tip Riley being balls deep inside of you, thrusting into you like a rabid animal cumming in your sore cunny in less than five minutes.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆ ੈ✩

Credits of header to @anitalenia