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boyfriend!simon riley and american!bimbo(ish)!reader
simon loves his ditzy, american girlfriend. how you make him repeat his words, sounding out the syllables because his accent's so thick, and voice so deep. though he thinks it's just an excuse for him to talk right into your ear, his voice several octaves deep, a rumbling sound low in his chest.
he loves your little american terms, the differences in your cultured upbringings in terms of slang, and lingo.
"'s futball, lov'," he'd murmur, a beer in the hand of the arm slung around the back of the old leather couch as you watched the game. his other arm would be across your shoulders, fingers creeping up your neck as he caressed your soft skin and lengthy collarbone subconsciously.
he'd huff a chuckle if he heard you mumble 'soccer' in return.
but it wouldn't be too long until he heard his own words integrated into the vocabulary, but only when you weren't laid on your back, legs thrown over his shoulders as he plowed his hips into your slick cunt.
your sweet, american accent just mewling his name so nicely from your lips, harsh contrast to the stinging pain your claws left in his scarred back.
it only earned you grunts in return, followed by a particularly harsh thrust, lewd, flithy sounds of flesh on flesh.
but pretty, pretty music to his ears after you'd been fucked stupid, a cock-drunk babbling mess. pretty american girl.
he'd call you a good girl for calling it 'football' instead of 'soccer,' and eat you out too.
#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley fanfiction#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost cod#ghost x you#simon ghost fluff#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley cod#simon x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley#ghost smut#ghost mw2#ghost#simon ghost x you#cod ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley smut#cod x you#ghost cod x reader#cod x reader#cod modern warfare
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This just screams Ghost!!!
https://x.com/dollyfri1l/status/1846293296332857780?t=Bc-cdTydgEuwTGv7ta0H-g&s=19
Something something Ghost doesn't really do Halloween, he doesn't see the point of it but when he (not controlling) checks through his lovies phone (He left his phone downstairs and wanted to check the weather or something) to see the messages she sent to her friends about wanting to be chased and fucked by Ghost face. Well, maybe Halloween isn't such a bad thing after all
ghost!ghost 👻 (🌽 link)
ghost knew you had, to some extent into some kind of mask kink, because there is no way you approached him and started dating his intimidating ass clad in a balaclava. but when he saw the texts between you and your friends, what he suspected knew got confirmed.
he isn't much of a halloween person, but using your phone to order some takeout and reading by accident those messages of you and your friends talking about the hottest spooky costumes and saying that you found ghost face extemely sexy and that you wanted to be chased and fucked by it, he instantly realized that he had to give you a little spooky surprise.
one day, he just appears in your front door with the mask, and it instantly clicks in your head: he had read those messages. so you make a run for it, trying to escape his enormous muscular frame - to no avail, the man is faster than you and within a few meters, he already caught you.
he roughly throws you over one of his powerful shoulders and takes you to the bedroom. he tears your shirt off your body and uses a tactical knife to rip your jeans and panties so he can get easy acces to your already soaking wet cunt. face pressed against the bed by one of his strong hands and ass up in the air he starts fucking into you, making you loudly moan and fucking you like the good little slut that you are.
he immediately asks you what other masked characters you like, just to get himself ready for any future activities ;)
#cod#cod smut#cod x reader#cod headcanons#cod x y/n#cod x you#p!link#ghost smut#cod ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost#simon ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley
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simon’s voice makes you weak.
there was something about simon’s voice that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was. maybe it was the way it lingered—deep, gravelly, rough around the edges, like it had been sanded down by years of use and silence. or maybe it was the calm confidence behind it, steady and controlled, sending shivers down your spine with every word.
hearing him speak felt like a drug you hadn’t known you needed until it was too late. the moment that low rumble slipped past his lips, it hooked you—completely and utterly.
you didn’t even care what he was saying half the time. tactical orders, a grumble under his breath, or a sarcastic jab at soap—it didn’t matter. the sound of his voice hit something deep inside you, stirring heat low in your belly.
‘you’re not listening, love,’ simon muttered, the rough edge of his voice curling through the words.
you blinked, realizing you’d been staring too long, completely lost in the cadence of his voice. ‘sorry, what was that?’ you asked, your heart racing, heat creeping up your neck.
he took a step closer. his presence loomed, warm and steady, filling the small space between you. you swore you could feel the smirk beneath the mask, and the sound of his next words pulled a whimper from your throat. ‘filthy thing, getting turned on just from hearing me talk.’
your breath caught as his hand ghosted near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin.
‘my good girl,’ he whispered, his voice low and deliberate, wrapping around you like a sin you didn’t mind indulging in.
his words, so simple and devastating, made your thighs clench instinctively, and the look in his eyes behind the mask told you he knew exactly what he was doing.
‘thought so,’ he muttered, amusement curling at the edge of his voice like smoke.
he leaned in just enough that you could feel his breath against your ear, your whole body buzzing under the weight of his closeness. and god help you, you wanted more—more of his voice, more of the heat simmering beneath his words.
‘keep talking, baby,’ you thought, heart pounding in your chest. ‘just keep talking.’
#call of duty#cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley blurbs#simon riley headcanons#task force 141#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley blurbs#smut#cod x reader#simon ghost riley headcanons#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley drabbles#simon riley smut#ghost smut#cod ghost#ghost blurbs
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nsfw
okay, but. dad price who has no idea that simon is fucking his son. so he invites him over for hollidays since simon doesn't have anyone to spend it with.
leaving his pretty boy with the big bad ghost on a cabin in the middle of the woods.
simon who shamelessly fucks you in every surface of the cabin, the bedroom, the kitchen, the livingroom, the jacuzzi, the cold wooden floor of the patio. and every morning when you join your dad and your mom on their cabin for breakfast simon has a proud grin on his face, telling john how much he nedded this vacations.
#ghost x male reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x male reader#simon riley x reader#ghost smut#simon riley smut
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Simon was big in all aspects. With his height and the way he was built like a brick shit house it wasn't that big of a leap in logic to presume he was also equipped with a proportionally sized cock as well.
Your gag reflex was awful. You told Simon that before the first time you went down on him. He always fought against you blowing him, always turning it around on you and making you see stars with his tongue. But you really wanted to take him in your mouth, practically begged for it.
He doubted you when you said your gag reflex was bad, surely it couldn't be that horrible? He soothed you, saying you can have complete control the entire time so he wouldn't end up making you throw up.
He was proven terribly wrong.
You gagged hard when his tip touched the back of your tongue, pulling away to keep yourself from throwing up on his cock. That would've been even more embarrassing.
Simon held your face in his large hands, wiping any stray tears that had formed from gagging. He said it wasn't that big of a deal, he preferred going down on you more anyways.
But it wasn't just that you wanted to give him pleasure, you also wanted to blow him. You couldn't deny the thought of sucking on Simon's cock made a wet patch form on your panties. You explained this to him and he went quiet for a moment before he kissed your forehead and proceeded to fuck you into the mattress, wringing as many orgasms as he could out of you before he came as well.
"Fuck lovie-" he choked out as your pussy spasmed around him. Your entire body was trapped underneath his weight, you couldn't move. You could only lay there as your orgasm launched your mind into orbit.
"You wanna suck my cock sweetheart?" He asked and you dumbly nodded, fists clenched above your head where one of his hands kept them pinned. He groaned at your wordless response and his pace faltered a little.
"You drive me insane," he gritted out as his grip on your wrists tightened a little, "I don't fuckin' deserve you," unable to respond you hoped your whine of protest was enough to argue back that he did.
" 'm Gonna help you," he muttered as he kept battering his cock into your weeping cunt as another orgasm built up.
"I'll get some help in training that pretty throat to take my cock-" your eyes widened, "I know just the man for the job." He said as he spilled into you as your back tried to arch against the bed, hardly able to move as he pressed his full body weight down on you.
After you had fallen asleep, mind too mushy to ask who exactly he had referred to, he had typed up the message. "Wanna help train my birds throat Johnny?"
#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x you#simon riley x reader#mw2 smut#simon x reader#call of duty ghost#mw2 ghost#ghost cod#ghost smut#ghost x soap x reader
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I want my husband! Simon to come home from deployment and use me like a starved first meal that he hasn't touched in decades …like straight up lifting the cute skirt up and pushing the panties to the side… wasting no time but to stretch this ass so much with his dick that ain't even painful... –like this might be for him but this man ain't gonna leave the kitchen until we are left cumming on his cock at least four times until our knees are practically giving out that he has to hold us by the waist to keep us in place
:(
#suiwrites 🍒#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#cod smut#141 smut#141 x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost smut#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#simon#cod mw2#cod mw2 smut#mw2 smut#mw2 ghost#cod simon riley
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Sex is on fire- Simon "Ghost" Riley NSFW
Kinktober Day 14
Based on a request: I recently saw my husband in the yard working and fuck did he look so sexy. So now I can't help but imagine Ghost as my husband, working in the yard and there's a spontaneous fuck. He's hot and so is this idea ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, smut, P-in-V, oral!sex, unprotected!sex, husband!ghost, wife!reader, exhibition? ----
A/N: we won't talk about the first time I posted this, got it? great, thanks <3
The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the overgrown garden, highlighting the faded stones of the path winding through it. He looks at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hot, huh? Well, I aim to please," he says with a playful wink, trying to match your lighthearted tone.
He spots the sledgehammer leaning against the shed and picks it up, testing its weight in his hands. Then, with a growl of effort, he swings it at the nearest stone, cracking it neatly in half. Simon grunts with satisfaction, sweat already beading on his brow as he continues down the path, methodically demolishing each stone. His muscles flex with each swing, rippling beneath his shirt.
He pauses after a few minutes, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "This is actually... kind of fun," he admits with a grin. "Cathartic, like you said. Feels good to just let loose and destroy something." He looks at you, his eyes brighter than they were earlier. "Thanks for this. For knowing exactly what I needed, even when I didn't."
He steps closer, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before returning to the path, ready to continue his destructive work. You bite your lip as you keep your eyes on him, “Mm, fucking sexy… wow,” you smile and lean back, god, does he look so sexy. “You keep going until you’ve had enough, handsome face.”
Simon pauses mid-swing, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow. A slow, heated grin spreads across his face at your words.
"Oh? Is that so?" he asks, his voice dropping an octave as he sets the sledgehammer aside and stalks towards you."Watching me work up a sweat gets you all hot and bothered, does it?"
He reaches you and leans close, his breath ghosting over your ear. "Maybe I should take a break and give you something else to bite those pretty lips of yours," he murmurs, nipping lightly at your earlobe. His hands come to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat of his skin through his clothes, the hard planes of his body.
"Or maybe," he continues, his voice a low rumble. "You want to join me? Help me work off some steam?" He rocks his hips against yours, letting you feel his growing arousal.
"I could put that tongue of yours to good use," he suggests with a wicked grin. "Keep me company while I finish tearing up this path." He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyes dark with desire. "What do you say, beautiful? Want to get your hands dirty with me?"
“I’m not picking up a sledgehammer, but I’ll happily get my mouth dirty." you wink. Simon's eyes darken with lust at your suggestive words. He grins wolfishly, his hands tightening on your hips.
"Mmm, now that's an offer I can't refuse," he purrs, his voice low and rough with desire. "Get on your knees for me, baby. Let's see how well you can use that pretty mouth of yours."
He guides you down to the ground, his strong hands supporting your back. Once you're kneeling before him, he steps back and starts to unbuckle his belt, his movements slow and deliberate.
"Remember, no biting unless I tell you to," he teases, his eyes locked with yours as he unzips his pants. "Unless you want to earn yourself a punishment later."
He tugs his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, his hard cock springing free. It juts out from his body, thick and throbbing, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. "Fuck, look at you," he groans, wrapping a hand around himself and giving a slow stroke. "On your knees for me, so eager to please. Such a good girl." He steps closer, his cock bobbing mere inches from your face. "Open wide, baby. Show me what that mouth can do."
“Fuck, you see… this is why I enjoy watching you,” you say before taking his cock into your mouth. You take his hand and place it on the back of your head. You look up and begin to bob your head, your eyes rolling back a bit, gagging but enjoying the thickness of his size.
Simon groans deeply as you take him into your mouth, his head falling back in pleasure. His hand comes to rest gently on the back of your head, holding you in place as you work. "Fuck, Y/N," he grunts, his hips rocking slightly to meet your bobbing motions. "Just like that, baby. Take it deep."
His cock pulses against your tongue, the taste of him filling your mouth. He's thick and hard, stretching your lips obscenely around his girth. You gag slightly as you force yourself down further, taking him into your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you don't pull away, determined to please him.
"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained with arousal. "Choke on it. Fuck, you look so good with your lips wrapped around me." He tightens his grip on your hair, guiding your movements. You relax your throat, letting him fuck your face, using your mouth for his pleasure. "Gonna... fuck... I'm gonna cum," he warns, his thrusts becoming erratic."Swallow it all, baby. Every fucking drop."
With a final, guttural moan, he releases, flooding your mouth with his hot seed. You swallow reflexively, milking him for all he's worth. "Fuck yes," he gasps, riding out the waves of his orgasm. "Such a good girl, taking it so well."
Finally, he pulls away, letting you catch your breath. You sit back on your heels, looking up at him with a satisfied smile, his cum glistening on your lips. Simon smirks down at you, his eyes hooded with satisfaction. He tucks himself back into his pants and zips up, then reaches down to pull you to your feet.
"Mmm, you're insatiable today," he chuckles, brushing a thumb over your cum-slicked lips. "Not that I'm complaining. I love seeing you like this - so hungry for me." He leans in and captures your mouth in a deep, filthy kiss, licking the taste of himself from your tongue. You moan into the kiss, your body pressing eagerly against his.
"Fuck, I need to finish this path," he pants when he finally breaks away. "But first, I think I need a little more motivation." His hands slide down to cup your ass, squeezing roughly.
"How about you strip down and bend over one of these garden benches for me?" he suggests, his eyes glinting with wicked promise. "Let me fuck you right here in the yard, where anyone could see what a dirty slut you are for your husband." He punctuates his words with a sharp smack to your rear, making you yelp.
"What do you say, baby? Want me to split you open on my cock while you watch me work? I bet you'd love that, wouldn't you?" You nod eagerly, "Oh... fuck yes, I want that, I want that so bad," you say with need. What more can a wife say? No? Her husband looks so fucking sexy when he does manual labour and asks to fuck her in their backyard and she is meant to say no? Fuck that shit.
Simon grins wickedly at your eager response. He gives your ass another hard smack before stepping back.
"Strip," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument. "And bend over that bench. I want to see that pretty pussy on display for me."
You waste no time obeying. Hastily shedding your clothes, you position yourself over the garden bench, your legs spread wide. The cool wood against your bare skin makes you shiver with anticipation.
Simon takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his eyes roaming over your exposed body appreciatively. "Fuck, look at you," he groans, palming himself through his pants. "So perfect, so ready for me. I'm gonna ruin you, Y/N. Gonna fuck you so hard you forget your name."
He moves behind you, running his hands over your curves possessively. Then, without warning, he drives his cock into you with one hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt.
"Yes!" he hisses, gripping your hips tightly. "Take it, baby. Take every fucking inch." He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you relentlessly. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the yard, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.
"That's it, fucking take it," he growls, one hand coming up to fist in your hair, pulling your head back. "You love this, don't you? Love being used like a cheap whore by your husband." He angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "Gonna fill this cunt up, pump you full of my cum. Everyone's gonna know who you belong to after this."
You moan, your back arches, “Oh… fuck… ah… ngh~” It's too fucking much but it is so fucking good.
Simon pounds into you harder, spurred on by your desperate moans. His fingers dig into your hips, leaving bruises in their wake. "That's it, baby," he pants, his voice strained with impending release. "Cum for me. Cum on my cock like the dirty little slut you are." He reaches around to rub your clit in rough circles, sending you careening over the edge. Your pussy clenches around him, milking his cock as you come undone.
"Fuck, Y/N!" he roars, slamming into you one last time before stilling, his cock pulsing as he fills you with his seed. "Take it, fucking take it all." He collapses against your back, both of you panting heavily in the aftermath. After a moment, he pulls out, watching with satisfaction as his cum drips down your thighs. "Look at the mess I made," he chuckles, swiping some on his fingers and bringing it to your lips. "Clean up your mess, baby. Taste what I gave you."
As you lick his fingers clean, he tucks himself away and zips up. Then he turns back to the broken path, picking up the sledgehammer once more. "Why don't you go inside and get cleaned up?" he suggests his voice already back to its usual gruff tone. "I'll finish up here and join you in a bit. Maybe we can go for round two in the shower, hm?"
He winks at you over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the debris, swinging the hammer with renewed vigour, his earlier tension seemingly melted away.
Tags:
@liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @lovelyvqer @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @mychemichalimbalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycat @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @azkza @VampyTheGoth
#cod kinktober#cod mw2#cod#cod x reader#mwii#ghost cod#call of duty#kinktober#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon riley call of duty#simon riley imagine#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon riley cod#ghost riley#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost smut#simon x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost smut#simon ghost riley comic#simon ghost riley smut
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Monster (S)mash - Task Force 141 x Female Reader - Porn Star AU
Content & Warnings: Porn Star AU, group sex, oral sex (male & female receiving), unprotected piv, cnc, restraints, anal sex, double penetration, haunted houses, masks, knifeplay, creampie, multiple orgasms, cum swallowing
Word Count: 5.5k
A/N: For Kinktober 2024 (Group Sex)
On the set of Monster (S)mash, the monsters come out to play. It's your first themed porn film and it's set in a haunted house. You're eager. Excited. But you've never taken something like this on before. You're filming with four of the greatest names in porn, and you don't want to mess this up.
ao3 // main masterlist // kinktober 2024 masterlist
"Would you like to review the scene? Go over boundaries again?"
Kate Laswell, the Intimacy Coordinator, takes a seat on the opposite couch.
"I'd like a refresh," replies Johnny. "Now that I'm in character." He grins, gesturing at himself, and you almost laugh at how ridiculous he looks.
Johnny MacTavish, known in the industry for his many creampie videos, is dressed as a crazed clown with a red wig and exaggerated makeup. His clothing is nothing more than a black industrial vinyl apron covering up the important bits. Kyle Garrick, a connoisseur of the cam world, sits next to him in a fresh white robe with a Jason Voorhees mask sitting on top of his head, the elastic band digging into his skin behind his ears.
Kyle taps away at his phone. "I should go before you, mate." Kyle glances up and winks at you. "Since I’m up first."
You feel heat rush to your cheeks. Kyle is incredibly handsome—all four of them are—but Kyle has a gentle swagger that flusters you a bit every time he addresses you. The two others, John Price and Simon Riley, are still in the makeup tent transforming into a werewolf and a demon.
While you've been on various porn sets, this one is far more complex than previous films you've been a part of. Monster (S)mash is set in a "haunted house." You'll go room to room, each containing one of the four men before it ends with the five of you partaking in each other. Filming is expected to take all day and possibly into the next.
Kate finds a comfortable spot on the sofa and addresses the two of you. "Your scene takes place in a forest with a cabin. They'll be a fake machete. We're looking at knife play. Some c-n-c. A bit of a chase. What do you think about that?"
Kyle shrugs and then glances at you. "Sounds fun. I'm excited. But it's what you want." He gazes at you expectantly.
You shrug. "What we talked about during our meeting yesterday is good with me."
Kyle nods. "I remember."
"And we know the safe word and the non-verbal signal in case anyone needs to stop?" asks Kate.
"Apple," says Johnny.
"Three fingers with a wrist shake for non-verbal," adds Kyle.
Kate smirks. "And what if someone is restrained and cannot shake their hand?"
"Then three fingers will do," you finish.
She smiles, clearly content with that answer. "Very good." She clasps her hands and then pushes up from the couch. "My assistant and I will be standing off to the side watching and listening for a signal."
Rodolfo, the director’s personal assistant pops his head in. “We’re ready for the first scene.”
Kyle groans as he stands, returning the Jason mask to its proper place. The robe is gone and tossed onto the sofa beside Johnny. Kyle is completely naked underneath it all. You follow him out, robe still on.
"Head that way to mark," Rodolfo says to Kyle and then he gestures at you, beckoning you closer. "Stand here."
You find your mark and then remove your robe, handing it off to Rodolfo who politely keeps his gaze averted. Unlike Kyle who wears nothing, you're in a skimpy black thong that's more string than material.
“Quiet on set!” comes Alejandro Vargas’ voice from the director’s area. He’s standing behind a monitor, watching whatever is coming through on the camera.
There's some minor rustling before all goes silent.
"On three...two...one."
You stand just outside the entrance of the fake haunted house. Taking a deep breath, you count to three. Glancing over your shoulder, you deliberately stare off-camera, and then head inside. The camera moves forward as you walk, focusing in on the makeshift sign.
You will be touched, carried, restrained, played with...
The camera lingers on the sign for a few seconds before following you into the dark.
"Cut!" Alejandro calls out. "Let's hold there. Get her to mark two."
Rodolfo appears, gesturing toward the first "room" of the haunted house.
Each set is separated by curtains. With the lights on, it looks a bit silly, but during filming and post-production editing, no one will know that these scenes weren't filmed in an actual haunted house attraction.
As you step up to your mark, a tingle of excitement swells in your belly. You've always found your job fun and enjoyable, but this is the first themed film you've attempted. While the film crew and intimacy coordinator have solid reputations in the industry, the four men you're working alongside are known for their decency, politeness, and general kindness when working with others. During yesterday's meetings, they were incredibly focused, asking questions, and spent extra time wanting to know and remember your boundaries and limitations.
When you first started out, that was unheard of. You’d show up to set and hope for the best. Discussions about limitations and boundaries were few and far between.
"Going on three...two...one."
You enter the first room.
It's arranged to resemble the front of a cabin in the middle of the woods near a lake. The cabin is just a facade anchored onto a wall while blue lighting creates water-like ripples off the front of the cabin. The path to the "exit" is lined with two folding chairs, a metal picnic table, and a makeshift campfire with fake flame included. Ambient nature sounds play in the background, but it's only loud enough to create an unsettling atmosphere.
Slowly, you step around the two folding chairs and walk past the picnic table, glancing around in feigned nervousness as if danger lurks around every corner. That danger is just Kyle in his Jason mask.
As if summoned by your thoughts, Kyle appears. Standing near the makeshift exit, he is completely naked other than the mask and the machete clenched in his right fist. You freeze, holding up your hands in a placating gesture.
Kyle rolls his shoulders and neck. You hear the audible pop from where you're standing. He saunters forward, turning the machete handle end-over-end in his palm. Though you know the machete is fake, and that Kyle won't harm you, your fight-or-flight response kicks in. It fuses with your excitement and underlying arousal, sending your senses into overdrive. Your vision narrows, focusing on Kyle as he swaggers toward you.
"No," you whisper, backing toward the spot you entered from.
Kyle lunges, and you shriek, turning on your heel to dodge out of the way.
Spreading his arms wide, Kyle blocks your way forward. You step to the left and he matches your movement, the machete blade outstretched. While the two of you discussed this scene with the intimacy coordinator, the chase is entirely improvised. You don't know what Kyle will do or how he'll eventually trap you. The idea is thrilling, warming your body with heightened anticipation.
Stepping around the edge of the picnic table, you aim to dart around him on the right side. Kyle leaps over the fake flames and lands in your path. He swings the machete and you duck. The blade is nothing more than rubber, and his aim is purposefully wide.
As you turn away, Kyle follows, his stride casual and calm. It's infuriatingly sexy how sure of himself he is. And somehow, you're flustered by him, even as you try to make for the exit.
But there is no escape—and it's not like you want to get away from him.
Kyle's muscled arm catches you by the stomach. He hauls you against his chest, even as you wiggle and squirm, lashing out as if that will do anything. His strength is apparent in the way he confidently keeps you close, unafraid that you might accidentally clip his jaw with your knuckles.
The camera moves in as he brings the machete up to your throat, pressing the rubber blade against your jugular.
"Stop moving," he growls, the mask muffling the sound.
You cease your squirming, both hands grasping his forearm. The edge of the mask digs into the side of your face, and his hard cock presses roughly against your back.
"Are you going to be a good girl?" he asks. The low gruffness in his voice sends a bolt of heat straight to your pussy.
You whimper, but say nothing.
Kyle lightly slaps the inside of your upper thigh. "Answer me."
"I'll be good," you gasp, the sting of his strike causing your muscles to clench, ass bucking into his pelvis.
"You'll be what?" This time he squeezes your thigh.
"A good girl."
He makes a pleased sound as the machete falls away and his arm releases you. Grabbing the back of your neck, Kyle uses his grip to turn you around, to force you to look at his face. With the mask, all you can see are his eyes. They're in shadow, but fuck, they're gorgeous.
With a final squeeze, Kyle forces you to your knees. His cock bobs in front of your face. Your lips part, but Kyle keeps a firm grip, allowing nothing. He is in control.
Your gaze is entirely focused on him. You have no idea where the camera is, and there is no point in looking. It's not your concern.
"Wider," he instructs, and you present your mouth to him, tongue out. "That's it."
The head of his cock taps against your tongue and then slides back and forth over its surface, teasing what's to come.
You want it. You want him.
Kyle's hand moves from the back of your neck to the top of your head. He fists your hair there, and then guides your mouth around his cock, forcing you to take every inch of him. The cool rubber of the machete presses against your neck. Your hands rise, anchoring yourself by grasping the front of his bare thighs.
You hold on as he fucks your throat. Keeping your gaze on the mask, you relax your muscles, focusing on not gagging. Kyle is more length than girth, and the head of his cock roughly hits the back of your throat with each stroke.
"That's a good girl," he rasps. "My perfect slut."
The praise is wonderful. Perfect. You hold on to it, humming with contentment around him, the vibrations making him shiver. In your peripheral, you notice the glint of a camera lens but you don't glance over. You focus on Kyle, and how eager you are to get both of you off.
Kyle is rough but not overly slow. He's careful not to go too far. His movements are restrained but controlled, and that only turns you on more. One of your hands slips between your thighs and you find yourself blissfully wet.
You circle your clit and then dive downward to slip one finger, and then two, inside your pussy. Repeating the motions only builds the oncoming orgasm like a viper hidden in a pile of leaves, waiting to strike.
"Are you fucking yourself with your fingers?" Kyle's question isn't meant to be answered. It's rhetorical. He knows you are. He can see it.
With his cock in your mouth, you're unable to answer. One watery tear rolls down your cheek and Kyle lightly taps the machete blade against your throat.
"Not being a good girl. Didn't tell you to do that."
The machete disappears. Using his grip on the top of your head, Kyle guides your mouth off and away with a wet pop. He drags you to your feet, and as you move to run from him, Kyle presses the tip of the machete against your stomach.
"Get on the table," he growls. "Now."
You glance over your shoulder briefly to figure out where it is. The path is clear—just a few steps and you're on it. Kyle prods you with another poke of the machete.
Moving backward, you eventually bump into the edge of the table. Kyle does not help you up but the top is just below hip-level. You get on easily.
"On your back. Legs spread."
The command in his tone is undeniable. You do exactly as Kyle says. The camera is directly behind him, following his forward advance. Kyle wraps his hand around your ankle and tugs, dragging you to the very edge until you're close to falling off.
Without ceremony or elegance, he tears away your thong and tosses it aside. Kyle lines himself up and thrusts.
"Fucking hell," he groans.
You moan loudly, toes curling as your pussy takes all of him. The stretch is just enough to hurt but entirely euphoric.
Kyle slams the machete down onto the table next to you. In seconds, he has one hand over the front of your throat and the other on your inner thigh, keeping you wide as he drives in and out of your body.
This is where he's roughest, and you don't care at all. It's delicious. Glorious. From this angle you can watch every corded muscle shiver as he moves.
And the eye contact.
Kyle won't stop looking at you. His gaze is firm. Heavy. You are trapped by it as much as by his strength. His hand on your inner thigh slides further inward until he's almost on your pelvis. The camera shifts to point directly at where your bodies meet just as Kyle's thumb starts rubbing slow circles around your clit.
The building orgasm shivers outward, stretching into your limbs. A sense of numbness comes with it, as if you're floating above your body. It lingers there at the heightened apex before crashing down around you.
Your body tenses—seizes. Kyle groans, continuing to thrust through it. His thumb keeps stroking, and the intensity continues, wave after wave flooding through your system until you near overstimulation.
Kyle's thrusting increases, a pounding rhythm that signals his coming end.
"Fuck," he groans, hand around your throat tightening slightly.
The fingers on your thigh dig in, and Kyle stills, his sigh a gentle rainfall. You feel your pussy flood with warmth as his release hits him. You see the shudder, watch as his eyelids close behind the mask, and the keen pulse of his veins in his arms.
Kyle thrusts once. Twice. And then with a heavy sigh, grasps the base of his cock, stroking it as he slowly eases out. The camera comes into view, panning inward to catch the sight of his cum. Kyle keeps you still, gaze lingering on you. He's waiting for the camera's retreat.
Just as it backs away, Kyle's grip on you loosens. You're the pretend, helpless victim no longer.
Gripping the machete, you strike out. Kyle avoids your terrible swing, and that gives you your change. Off the table and onto the floor, you rush toward the exit, not looking back though you hear his enraged growl and the swoosh of air as he lunges for you.
You disappear, nearly stumbling into the next room as the director calls for the end of the scene.
"Cut!"
You catch yourself before falling forward, a little breathless. Poking your head out from behind the curtain, the set team comes rushing in, moving objects out.
"Let's set the next scene."
As you step out, Rodolfo and someone from the makeup department rush in. You're offered your robe which you politely decline but accept the water.
"You good, love?" Kyle approaches, removing his mask, gaze expectant and observing.
"Yeah. I'm good," you reply, taking another gulp of water.
His observation isn't one of keen interest but one of concern. He's checking you over. Making sure he didn't harm you.
"I didn't hurt you?"
You're a little sore but it feels good. "No," you answer. "Promise. I'm fine."
He grins, relief clear on his face. "Thought I might have been too much."
You shake your head. "Not at all."
Rodolfo checks his watch. "Ready for the next scene? Or would you like a break?"
You cap the water and hand it to him. "I can handle it."
He nods. "Be ready in five."
After a bathroom break, a brief touch-up, and a gentle cleanse between the thighs, you're herded to the next mark.
"We're going in ten...nine..."
Your robe is removed and water whisked away. The camera is somewhere in the room already, ready for you to step out from behind the curtain.
"...three...two...one."
You emerge, knowing that this might be the scene you need to call a stop to. Not that it'll be Johnny's fault, but the place is absolutely ghastly.
It's set up like a meat processing warehouse. The room is bathed in red light. Fake bodies wrapped up in cloth hang from the ceiling along with a few hooks on chains. There are two "exits" covered in plastic strip curtains. One is a true exit and the other is where Johnny is supposed to emerge from, but you have no idea which.
The camera follows your forward movements as you navigate around the hanging set pieces. Against the wall is a stainless-steel table. On it are bloody body parts all haphazardly stacked on top of each other.
As you make it to the middle of the room, Johnny appears—not that you see him. You don't notice him at all. It isn't until he revs the chainsaw he's holding that you do. It startles you so bad that you stumble backward into a fake body, almost tripping on your own foot.
Johnny charges forward, much faster than Kyle. The hanging bodies, hooks, and chains are in the way. You try to push them aside, to run as you're supposed to, but it hampers your movement.
Johnny catches you quickly.
Cornering you between a trio of hanging bodies, Johnny circles the space, revving the chainsaw as he walks. There is no chain on it, but he doesn't point it at you. He keeps it pointed away from his body and yours.
Transferring the chainsaw to one hand, Johnny snags your upper arm, dragging you against him. You beat at his chest, the vinyl apron slippery when your skin makes contact. Nothing happens. Johnny is solid.
With his grip on your arm, Johnny hauls you toward the body-covered table. He sets the chainsaw down and then both hands are on you. Spinning you around to face him, you attempt to fight him off even as he restrains you, attaching handcuffs to your wrists with ease.
“Let me go!” you shriek, but Johnny only laughs. It’s manic and high—completely deranged. It’s wonderful acting. You’ll give him that.
With a sharp tug on the connecting chain, Johnny sends you stumbling. He steps out of the way, his hand coming down on your ass with a sharp slap. You yelp but manage not to fall. The smirk on his face tells you everything. He’s loving this.
You attempt to strike out at him but Johnny is so much stronger.
Using his massive, muscled arms, Johnny wrestles for control, winning easily. You’re herded to the center of the room. At one of the hooks, Johnny lifts your arms over your head, hooking the connecting chain on the nearest one.
Everything stretches, but it’s not painful. It's a good stretch and just enough to keep you on your feet but appear as if you're hanging in the air. It's a great trick. You're on full display for the camera and for Johnny.
You’re facing away from Johnny, and you have no idea where the camera is. All you’re aware of is your breathing, and the swelling tightness in your muscles as the stretch starts to curl forth a gentle ache.
You’re hanging there. Untouched. Waiting.
There’s a gentle brush against the back of your thigh. You jerk against the touch, tilting your head to catch a glimpse of him. Johnny appears before you like a phantom. He steps into your view slowly. The red light bathes him in a blood-tinged glow.
Johnny grins, grasping your chin in his hand.
“Are you going to remain a good girl for us?” His Scottish lilt is sinful. You find yourself leaning forward as if you’ll kiss him. That grin softens, and then becomes a wicked thing.
Johnny drops to his knees before you.
His hands grab the backs of your upper thighs, lifting you off your feet. He guides your legs over his shoulders, hands adjusting to support your ass. Johnny’s mouth is on your pussy immediately, tongue teasing your entrance. The fake plastic nose he wears perfectly presses against your clit. It rubs back and forth against it as he devours your pussy.
The orgasm comes quickly and with sharp intensity. You scream out your pleasure, head falling back, eyes closed as Johnny continues to feast between your thighs. Your toes curl, the muscles in your lower back seizing and relaxing with each wave.
With a final lick, Johnny tilts his head back, smug with himself.
You’re gasping for air, chest heaving as Johnny returns your feet to solid ground. He ascends, hand undoing the ties that keep his black vinyl apron in place. He circles you as he does it, a teasing dance before it falls away.
Your gaze immediately drops, and fuck—Johnny is thick. There’s a decent amount of length but this man is all girth.
He palms his hard cock, gaze enraptured with the sight of you. Circling you like a predator, Johnny takes his opportunity to run his hands over your body, to touch everything. It’s been he comes to a stop behind you that the anticipation builds.
Johnny’s face presses against your neck as his hands grab hold of your hips. His cock rubs against your ass and then slides between your thighs. He rocks back and forth, coating himself in your wetness. The head of his cock pokes at your sensitive clit.
You whimper, and Johnny gives you relief.
With his grip on your hips, Johnny angles himself at your entrance. A quick thrust, and Johnny is home to the hilt. Your thighs are pressed against each other, and the thickness of Johnny’s cock is only intensified by the limited space.
He remains behind you, pumping steadily as you hang from the hook. Johnny’s hands on your hips delve, squeezing your thighs. He brings one palm down in a quick slap against it, your thigh jiggling from the strike.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he whispers into your ear, and you know that’s only for you to hear.
While Kyle was a bit rough with you, but Johnny is steady, his rhythm hitting all the right beats until you’re numb with lust. You fall into it, heading leaning back against his as Johnny as his way with you.
At his end, Johnny’s groan morphs into a whimper. He comes inside you, his grip tight as he holds you flush against him. A few more thrusts and then Johnny is pulling you, forcing your thighs apart to show the camera the mess there.
You expect a pause as the camera lingers there. What you don’t expect is for Johnny to put his mouth back to your pussy, to suck his cum out of it, to stand and force your head back, slipping his fingers between your lips only to spit his cum down your throat.
He grins at you, licks his lips.
This dirty fucker.
Your thumb finds the small button on the cuffs. Like everything else, it’s a prop. You press the button. The chain breaks as it’s supposed to. The moment your feet are flat, you take off, rushing toward the exit.
You hear pounding footsteps and then—
“Cut!”
Johnny almost knocks you down on the way out. “Shit,” he gasps, grabbing on to you before you topple forward.
“Take ten!”
A robe is thrust at you, and Johnny is pulled away as someone else shoves another water into your face and someone else fusses with your hair and makeup.
It’s the maze that’s next. This one is completely staged compared to the other scenes. At a certain point, you, Johnny, and Kyle will converge on a singular point. Johnny on one side of you. Kyle on the other.
When you’re set, you enter into the makeshift maze. You don’t need to go far. Just a few feet. Johnny is right behind you, every step heavy and loud as he navigates the maze. Only a couple striders further and you’re trapped.
Kyle steps out of the dark and you come to a halt. But as you retreat, Johnny is right there, blocking your exit. Their hands are on you immediately. You have no control. You give in to them, allowing them everything. It’s nice to surrender, to hand control off to someone else.
They move you into position. Johnny’s cock slides home, filling your pussy. Kyle takes the other side, and then you’re full in both holes, groaning loudly with each thrust. Your hands seek, fingers digging into whatever they can find.
Over your shoulder, Kyle pushes up his mask enough to reveal his lips. You go in, tasting Kyle’s sweetness. His hand grasps the front of your throat, dragging you in for a deeper kiss.
Johnny isn’t one to be left out.
As Kyle breaks away from the kiss, Johnny reaches for him, the two men locking lips next to your face as they both move in and out of your body. You drape your arm over the back of your Johnny’s neck, and all you know is the perfect way they fill you, and the feel of their lips against your skin.
And when it’s over, you’re a little disappointed that it couldn’t continue.
There’s another break—this one longer than the others. Kate’s assistant massages your muscles, and she checks in before the graveyard scene with John Price. You’ll truly need some rest before the final scene with Simon Riley and the rest of the men, but you can do one more.
But only one.
And it’s the easiest of the bunch.
There is no chasing. No running.
You play the helpless damsel, pushing at John’s chest as if you don’t want it. All around you is smoke and shadow. The headstones around the two of you create a little circle, almost as if you’re in the center of a ritual.
You’re put on your hands and knees on the ground, the fog from the fog machine swallowing up your hands and legs. Price is behind you, already pumping, already taking from you like the wolf he’s supposed to be.
The makeup department did wonders. They gave him sharp teeth, yellow contacts, and a partially transformed look to him. It’s brilliant, really. He looks very much the monster.
Each stroke is deep. John presses on your lower back, forcing you into a different position, pushing your ass higher into the air. Your legs widen and then John increases his pace, his pelvis smacking loudly against yours. Skin meets skin, and your pussy quivers with excitement as the orgasm builds.
You stroke yourself between your legs, leaning on one side to keep yourself upright enough not to slip. You’re slippery between your thighs, and you can’t help but trace where your bodies meet. Your nail grazes John’s cock, and he emits a low moan.
John grips your ass harder, and then he’s pounding into you, using your body like it belongs to him. You lightly bite your lip, trying to focus on your building orgasm. Each stroke comes with a spank, jerking you against your teasing fingers.
“Oh—fuck,” you mewl as your orgasm comes raging forward, curling outward.
John fucks you through it, growling like a fucking animal behind you. When your orgasm wanes, his hand grasps the back of your throat, holding you in place as he continues. All you have to do is sink into it, to grin with contentment and let him have what he wants.
There’s something primal to the way he holds you down and fucks you. It’s different from the way Kyle kept you in place or the way Johnny fucked you. Even in their roughness they were sweet. John is all business, and you’re perfectly fine with that.
His cock is fucking perfect, his dominating demeanor a soothingly sensual experience. There’s something to be said about giving in—to submitting.
But it’s after the extended break that completely alters your brain chemistry.
Simon is the last. The very last.
There is no chase. No true lead up.
This room is set in hell. There are fake flames, reddish-orange backlighting, and a throne. Simons sits on that throne, lounging casually, legs wide, his cock and heavy balls on full display. He’s dressed like the devil, but there are no plastic horns or dollar store red cape. He is perfectly painted in red and black. From his head are twisting black horns that curl up and back. They’ve given him red contacts and fake canines for a vampiric bite.
You are in his thrall, sitting at the base of his throne when the camera turns on. There is a leather collar around your neck connected to a silver chain that Simon holds in his fist. He lightly tugs on it, urging you forward.
Your hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly, coaxing him toward hardness. You tease the head with a swirl of your tongue before taking him into your mouth. Simon fists the chain, twisting another link around his fist. Every time you take him deeper, Simon shortens the chain further and further.
At first, there is no tightness. It grows shorter. Shorter still. The leather begins to bite into your skin. With each twist of Simon’s wrist, the leash shortens. It draws you closer to Simon, leaving no room for you to retreat—to get air.
Your nostrils flare as you breathe through your nose. Relaxing your throat, you suck him down, cupping his testicles gently in tandem with your movements. The only sound he makes is a grunt and you have no idea if that’s good or bad.
But his cock is hard. Solid. You can’t take all of him or you’ll fucking choke on it.
He tugs sharply on the leash. "In my lap, pet."
You do as Simon instructs, standing between his legs before turning around toward the camera. You sink down into his lap, and Simon leans back, gently guiding you to straddle his lap, legs wide and draped over his thick thighs. He rubs his cock against your pussy, and then you’re sinking down on him.
John arrives from the dark, still in costume. He prowls forward, coming up to the left side of the throne. He grabs your wrist as he comes to a stop, guiding it to his cock. You fist John just as Simon thrusts upward.
Kyle arrives soon after. He kneels in front of you and Simon, teasing your clit with his fingers. It starts as a gentle stroke before his tongue replaces them, swirling little circles against your clit. Simon thrusts upward again, and your pussy clenches.
Just before your orgasm crests, Kyle’s tongue descends, stroking against the space where Simon’s cock intrudes. He descends further, lightly sucking one of Simon’s balls into his mouth. It’s brief. Just a blip. And then his tongue is back on your clit.
Your orgasm comes raging forward, but just as your mouth opens to cry out, Johnny appears, grabbing the back of your head, filling your mouth with his cock.
Your body is theirs to use.
Theirs to enjoy.
Simon thrusts upward, and Kyle draws back, his lips glossy with your arousal. He puts the mask back into place, and Simon lifts you off his cock. You’re picked up. Turned around. You sink back down on Simon’s cock, and Kyle is right there, adding his cock to your pussy. It’s an incredibly tight fit. They rock their hips gentle as John and Johnny touch your body, guiding your hand and mouth back to them.
One of them comes inside you—but you have no idea who before you’re full of just one cock. There are two sets of hands on your ass, bouncing you on whoever’s cock is filling you up. You’re simply clinging on, fingers digging into Simon’s shoulders. His head dips, the horns brushing against your cheek as his tongue circles a nipple.
John grabs the bottom half of your face. “Open,” he instructs and you do so, eagerly sticking out your tongue. John jerks himself until his cum explodes on your tongue. He tips your head to the side and Johnny follow suit.
“Swallow,” growls John and you do exactly that.
Someone groans, and whoever is inside you comes. You’re lifted off Simon’s lap, brought to standing, and then promptly bent over the arm of the throne. Simon’s cock returns to your mouth, and someone settles behind you, spreading your legs before sliding inside.
Every time someone comes in your pussy, you’re moved. Switched. Bent over. Spread wide. Forced onto your knees. You take it all. Enjoying every orgasm. Enjoying every touch.
As your energy fades, it is Simon that takes the final fuck, who brings you into his lap. His hands are firm on your ass, bouncing you up and down his shaft as the camera zooms in on it. You are lost in him—lost in the bliss that pulses throughout your body.
You are perfectly fucked.
Perfectly content.
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Birthday girl ᯓᡣ𐭩
a/n: in light of my girls birthday…thought i’d write this. @scoobywrites690, happy birthday mama. i hope you had the best day ever (and this makes it that little bit better)
warnings: SEX! BIRFDAY SEXXX. mixes up between rough n soft. oral (f rec), mating press?? ish? multiple orgasms,
Simon did anything he could to make sure he would be back just in time for your birthday. Sure, being in the military, you didn’t have much — or any at all — control over when you got to go home, but he still tried.
And thankfully, he did manage to.
On the day of your birthday, infact. Best gift ever, right?
You were still out, likely with friends or something along those lines, so it meant he had the house to himself for an unknown amount of time, so he had to do the best with what he can.
He ran to the nearby hobby store, where he knew there would be banners, balloons, all the birthday decorations.
One hand taping banners to the wall, mouth occupied blowing up a balloon and his other hand holding it so it didn’t just fly out his mouth.
He was trying his hardest to get it all done before you came back.
When you entered the house, bag draped over your shoulders, you let out a sigh of relief at finally being able to just collapse and watch a movie until you fell asleep.
You kicked off your shoes, throwing them somewhat towards the direction of the shoe case.
You wished Simon was here, it’d make everything so much easier for you. You understood his job wasn’t necessarily the easiest to get away from, anything but infact, but you could still wish you had your husband with you.
Switching on the lights, a loud gasp ripped from your throat at the sight of a tall, brooding man stood in the middle of your living room.
When you realised it was your tall, brooding man stood in the middle of your living room, with a dorky smile and a balloon is hands — you could swear you wanted to scream.
Wordlessly, you let the bag drop from your shoulders, nose scrunching as tears filled your eyes. You shuffled towards him, falling into his chest head first and wrapping your arms tightly around him.
He reciprocated — of course — his arms going around your waist tightly and practically lifting you off your feet.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it,” You whispered into his chest, sniffling away your tears. You told yourself you wouldn’t cry this year.
“I’d never miss my wife’s birthday.” He kissed the crown of your head, peppering more all over your forehead before reaching your cheek.
“C’mon,” He tugged you away from him, having to begrudgingly separate you two like velcro. “There’s more.”
He pulled you along, walking past all the banners and balloons, being led to the bedroom.
Rose petals led the way, his warm hand enveloping yours; and you gripped him just that little bit tighter.
There was candles lit, the ceiling light off so they were the only thing illuminating the bed, which was covered in various things.
More rose petals, some bath salts, bubbles, a large teddy bear (which won’t fit anywhere in your already cluttered, hoarder house), a few pieces of jewellery, some chocolate and fluffy socks. ‘Cause who doesn’t love fluffy socks?
You sniffled again, looking at all the presents he managed to get you in the maybe four hour span you weren’t home and he was.
“I know s’ not a lot, I didn’t know how long you were going to be.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he stared at what he classes as a sad display.
You grabbed him by the shirt, tugging him down to your level a little, watching his eyes flick away from the bed to you.
“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”
Well, who is he to deny that?
He smiled before his head tilted down the rest of the way down, lips brushing hours before they locked in a kiss. A kiss filled with passion, longing, and need.
It had been so long since you had kissed Simon, that you almost had forgotten the pressure of his kiss entirely.
It started slow, sensual, soft. His hands drifting from your waist to your cheeks, thumb slowly stroking them. Your hands went from his chest to the back of his neck, tugging him closer and deepening the kiss.
The kiss went from slow and sensual to fast and needy, very quickly. He took a step forward, and you backed up until your knees hit the bed; not breaking the kiss.
He went to push you back against the bed, but got interrupted by your little wince of being poked in the back with a bottle of bubble bath.
He grumbled, taking the objects off one by one and putting them on the dresser, walking backing forth and making you laugh at him.
You pushed all the remaining stuff off the bed, hopping onto it and leaning back on your elbows, legs spread invitingly.
He smirked, approaching slowly and moving to kneel between your legs.
“Where do you want me, my love?” He asked, peppering kisses along your cheek before they drifted down to your neck.
You grabbed his wrist, slowly guiding his hand to your jean clad cunt, making a slow smirk form on his lips that you could feel against your skin.
“Can’t say no to the birthday girl, can I?” He practically purred against your skin before his hands fumbled at your jean buttons, tugging them down your thighs before he threw them to the floor.
Upon seeing the already forming wet patch on your panties, he let out a low laugh as his thumb ran over your sensitive clit through your panties.
“So wet already ‘n’ we ain’t even started.” He teased, dripping his head down to begin kissing your neck again.
“Shut up and just fuck me, ‘kay?” You hissed through gritted teeth, hand going to the back of his head to keep him where he is.
He hummed slowly, fingers tugging your panties down your legs and dismissing them else where, pushing your legs open wide before leaning back — getting a nice, long look at you.
“So fuckin’ perfect.” He groaned, hands sliding up your body and going to the hem of your shirt, pulling that off and throwing it, leaving you completely exposed to the cool air of your bedroom.
You shivered, before bucking your hips closer to him to try and find friction, letting a soft — almost pained — whimper leave your lips.
“Please.” Was all it took from you, and he was sliding between your legs until he was led on his chest.
Usually, he’d have you beg way more than that, but since it’s your birthday, he figured you can have it easy just this once.
“M’ getting to it, baby.” He said through his kisses he scattered along your inner thighs, big, strong arms wrapping around them to keep them spread open for him.
“Si..” You cried, head falling back against the pillow as you began getting impatient, hips attempting to shuffle towards him so he’d just fucking get there faster.
But unfortunately, his burly tatted arms kept you from doing such.
He ignored your pleas, continuing his kisses and occasional nibbles as he made his way closer and closer to your wet cunt, watching the way you tried to squirm and the way you clenched around nothing.
Keeping his eyes on you, he flattened his tongue and ran it up the length of your pussy, from your needy hole to your sensitive clit, causing you to let out a harsh gasp and a hand fly to his hair, tugging on it.
He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently and making your noises grow louder and more frequent, pulling him closer and putting your thighs around his head.
“Fuck, Si. Don’t stop.” You cried, heavy breathing and loud moans falling from your pretty lips as two fingers prodded at your entrance, the intrusion making you hiss softly before it heightened your pleasure — the same reaction you always had.
He watched you intently, slowly guiding his fingers in and out of you as his mouth lapped and sucked at your clit, groaning when you’d tug on his hair a little bit harder.
You lifted your head, eyes half lidded as you looked down to see him already staring at you, hips slightly grinding against the mattress below you.
The sight had the knot in your stomach twisting tighter, brows furrowing as your thighs began shaking.
“Si — Simon, m’ gonna cum, m’ gonna cum.” You whisper-chanted at him, and he just continued the same movements, not changing the rhythm of his fingers as they curled inside you, feeling your warm walls flutter as you grew closer and closer.
He pulled away, gently leaning his head on your inner thigh as he stared at you like a love sick puppy, hips humping at the mattress. Like a bitch in heat.
“It’s okay, love. Cum f’me, c’mon.” He cooed, giving you a little nod before his head dipped back down and lapped at you like a man starved.
If it wasn’t for the hot heat of pleasure rushing through your entire body and mind, the wet sound of him pumping his fingers in and out of you, and his mouth sucking at your sensitive cunt would’ve normally felt you embarrassed.
But you were too occupied to be insecure right now.
“Fuck, fuck. M’ cumming, m’ cumming!” You gasped, back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashed over you in harsh and hot waves, a long drawn out moan leaving your throat.
He nearly came in his boxers from the sight of you cumming alone, his eyes fluttering gently as they never strayed away from you.
Your body finally relaxed against the bed and his movements slowed to a stop, before he pulled away and kissed your pussy, then your stomach, chest, neck, jaw, and finally: lips.
You sighed softly at the taste of yourself against his tongue as he kissed you, his hands going to his trousers to pull at them until they were off him and on the floor instead — boxers following suit rather quickly.
Using your slick left on his fingers, he jerked himself off just a little before lining himself up with your entrance, breaking the kiss to watch.
His large hands hooked underneath your weak, trembling thighs, pushing them to your chest as you let out another sigh, head falling back and eyes closing as you felt his tip nudging against your clit.
He pushed himself in slowly, both of you letting out a low moan as he did so, sliding in with ease until he was buried to the hilt, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he forced himself to not cum.
He wanted at least one more out of you before he did.
“Move — please, move. I need it.” You coaxed him, hands fumbling with the bottom sheets as you tried to push yourself into him further.
“Mhm, I am, I am.” He whispered softly, voice comforting as he hooked your legs over his shoulders, ankles now dangling by his head.
His arm wrapped around your thighs, forcing them flat against his front as his other arm was supporting his body weight so he didn’t completely crush you.
He began slowly thrusting into you, easing you in as he was on deployment for a while and he knows your stupid toys don’t do it like he does.
He watched where you were connected, admiring the way your cunt so eagerly took him and swallowed him whole, triggering him to let out a low growl and begin increasing the intensity of his thrusts.
You mewled; hands clawing at whatever skin of his was available, incoherent babbles of whatever he can assume is his name falling from your lips along with loud moans.
He leant down, bringing some of his large weight down against you as he pounded your cunt like he wouldn’t be able to again, wrapping your legs around his waist so he could watch your pretty face contort in pleasure.
He reached his hand out to hold your cheek, leaning down to kiss you gently, contrasting his harsh and fast thrusts.
He felt your cunt flutter around him once more, and he smiled against your lips before pulling back, tucking hair behind your ear.
“You gonna cum again, sweetheart?” He asked you, watching the way your head nodded quickly and your hands reached out to paw at his chest.
“Mhm, mh— m’ gonna cum, fuck. I missed you, missed you so much.” You cried, tears welling up in your eyes as the ache in your lower abdomen grew and grew at a quick pace; jaw falling and lips forming a little o.
He smirked, holding your face and admiring you like he wasn’t ruining your pretty little pussy.
“I know, I know. I missed y’too, baby. Cum f’me, c’mon. Show me how much you missed me.” He groaned, feeling his own orgasm threaten to hit him at any second, and he just had to hope you came first.
And you did.
You let out a loud cry, mixed with a gasp as your legs locked around his waist. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, back arching so much that you were hardly even led on the bed anymore.
He felt your orgasm coat his entire cock, triggering his own as his thrusts grew sloppier, before he completely buried himself as far into your cunt he could and filled you up until you were practically dripping.
You both came down from your highs, panting heavily as he collapsed (but left his weight off you mainly) ontop of you, burying his face into your neck.
Your eyes closed briefly, before they snapped open at the feeling of his thrusts beginning again.
Looking at your face, he let out a low laugh.
“What, did you think your gift was over?”
#christi's girl୨୧#birthday girl!#christi's posts#simon riley mw2#cod simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley cod#simon riley#simon riley x you#simom riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon cod#simon ghost smut#ghost smut
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Like Birds on a Broken Branch | 2
Monster! Task Force 141 X F!Reader
Previous Chapter / Masterlist
Context Warning: NSFW! Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dub-con/ Non-con, Fingering, Murder, Author's Poor Attempt in Dark Fic, Monsterfucking, Mentions of Slavery
John Mactavish had you sitting on his lap as soon as you were brought into a limousine, his big hands gripping your ass, forcing you to grind yourself on the throbbing cock inside his boxers. Whereas the dragon—whom they called Price had his hand wrapped around your throat as he guided your hand to his monstrous dick. His horns, wings, and tail were nowhere to be seen.
You grumbled at his kiss, eyes open and brows knitting to let them know that you were repulsed. But they did not bother to acknowledge that, nor did you have the power to force them to talk about it.
Price forced your hands to stroke his cock at the pace he desired, already slick from the precum leaking from his tip, which felt . . . strange on your hand, the ends of your fingers not even meeting the slightest.
This was like molesting an oversized hotdog or a sausage.
God, now you hate hotdogs and sausages.
“Yeah, yeah,” Price groaned into your mouth, “that's it, dove.”
“I said,” you growled on his lips, taking a deep breath when Mactavish thrust upward, “fucking stop.” You bit down on Price’s lip, which made him tighten his grip around your neck and slowly pull away. He let your hand go and you pulled back from his dick, frowning at the sudden lack of air.
“Now, little one, let's not be rough,” he mumbled under his breath, his eyes trailing down to your exposed cunt, wetting a spot on his friend's boxers. “Although, you seemed to be enjoying it.”
“I don't—” your breath hitched up when Mactavish planted his calloused fingers on your clit and made maddening circles, that caused you to hold onto the dragon-shifter’s arm. Your eyes threatened to close and you pursed your lips to hold back the moan, but still, you couldn't help but let out stifled noises.
Price smirked at John which the other returned, and turned to the other two who just watched the scene unfold.
“Are you two not going to join?” He questioned, pulling your arm to wrap it around his neck and planting a kiss on your arm. He grinned at the sight of your slightly parted lips and gave the corner of your lips a peck, which seemed to have brought you back as you pursed them closed.
You clawed on his shirt as Mactavish slowly inserted a digit into you, pumping in and out, till he tightened his grip on your ass, guiding you up and down on his finger. You put your hand over your mouth, gnawed on your lower lip, and let your eyes close as your pussy clamped down on Mactavish’s finger, not wanting to give them the noise or reaction they wanted to see from you. But someone pulled your hand away and you flattered your eyes open. Price ran his thumb over your lip, smudging the blood on the fragile skin which made it redder and swollen.
“Graves just caught her a week before, Price,” Kyle reasoned out and crossed his arms. “Give her some break.”
“I agree with him,” Simon claimed and gazed down at your bouncing ass, skin already marked red by Mactavish’s harsh grip. The sight of them being stretched out was enough to make him hard.
Price raised his brows, glancing at the hardened tents on their pants, and huffed, moving away from you and soap. “Suit yourselves,” he declared, and pulled up his pants, before buckling his belt back in place.
You breathed a sigh of relief, making Price chuckle. “That's enough, Soap. We don't want her breaking before we get back home.” Then, he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a broad chest littered with dark hair that ran down to his stomach and under his pants.
He jerked the shirt off and handed it to the incubus underneath you.
John grumbled in retaliation, but he snatched the shirt from the dragon-shifter's hand and drew it over your naked flesh. “Come on, we don't want you getting cold.”
As soon as you were at least clothed, you jumped away from his grasp, scooting to the cornermost seat of the limousine, eyes scanning all of them. You tugged on the hem of the shirt in an attempt to hide your exposed, slick folds.
An unusual group, you thought. Very, very unusual.
Dragons were territorial, they do not share, but this Jonathan Price almost had you in front of three others, who very much didn't seem to be dragons as well.
“Strange, aren't we?” Price spoke as he saw your questioning gaze. “I'm sure you've never heard of dragons letting others mate with their woman. But they are more than just others—they are my friends, my brothers, my family. What I get, they get.”
“Birds of a feather, fuck together, huh,” you mumbled, frowning at them.
“Oh, ooh, she's funny,” John commented, a grin appearing on his face, “I like that on females.”
You kept a frown on your face as he said that, and asked, “What. . . what are you?”
“An incubus.” He smiled and motioned at the other two, who fortunately still hadn’t touched an inch of you. “Kyle is a Siren, and Simon’s a Wraith.”
You felt like thrashing at his words, maybe hitting your head against the windows of their goddamn limousine which God knows how many people have they had fucked over these nasty seats. A territorial dragon, a demon who feeds on lust, a siren who was known to hypnotize people, and a wraith who was considered the killing machine of monsters—a reaper.
What kind of group is this? Fucking Weirdos.
You breathed out a sigh as you stared at the towering structure before you. A castle? That would seem to be an understatement. This place was more of a fortress, now your version of hell—a labyrinth in which you were soon to be imprisoned, till the day you rot in their hands. Honestly speaking, only four monsters were far better than having a dozen of them buying you from the auction. You had heard of stories where a woman was taken by eleven orcs, and her story was never heard of again.
You couldn’t imagine yourself being in that poor woman’s situation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be thankful, despite you being fortunate enough.
A hand wrapped around your waist as you stepped out of the car, your bare feet leaving the rough and cold concrete as you were lifted in the air. Price heaved you up in his arms, guiding your arms to wrap around his neck. You met his once-golden eyes, now the color of the sky. You wondered, at the back of your mind, how would a dragon’s eye feel at the palm of your hands.
“From now on, this will be your home,” he motioned at the enormous skyscrapers as he started to saunter forward the vast courtyard, his brothers-in-arms following just a step behind.
“Home?” You echoed, your warm breath fanning his lips. “Is this not just a cage for me till you toss me aside?”
“Toss you aside?” He let out a small laugh. “Why would we do that?” he leaned forward, his lips brushing slightly at the corner of yours, inhaling your scent mixed with his and the incubus. Then, he lifted his gaze at yours, awaiting your reaction.
You gave him none and remained silent as your response and in return, he merely smiled until you all arrived before the enormous, double mahogany door, carved with intricate designs. None of them bothered to land a knock on the door, yet it still opened, revealing a grand entryway.
The ceilings were high with chandeliers heaved up. The walls were tall and adorned with paintings and torches, and a series of lofty windows were encased with crimson drapes that matched the carpet beneath you. And as soon as they stepped inside, several people with black veils hiding their faces appeared and lined up, their heads all lowered.
“They are our servants—now yours, too, but pay them no mind,” Mactavish remarked, humming as the five of you continued on your way and climbed up a staircase.
It didn’t take long till you were brought to a wide and seemingly endless corridor, and yet Price still hadn’t let you down to walk on your own. He was perhaps enjoying the plumpness of your butt or the way your arms were wrapped around his shoulders or the feel of your thighs against his rough hands. Either one, you enjoyed none of it.
Nonetheless, you found yourself intrigued by how exquisite their place was. In your deepest imaginations, you had always thought that if ever you were captured and sold, your new shelter would be next to sewers and you would sleep next to roaches and rats.
But their fortress was a delight to the eyes.
You all took a halt before a double door, much smaller than the ones at the entrance, but you found the design similar. Kyle, the siren, fished out a golden key from his pocket, which he plunged into the knob. With a crisp click, he pushed the doors open and a spacious chamber greeted you.
Windows outspread across an entire wall, providing a view you knew would be gorgeous in the daylight and night. Before one of the glasses was a swing seat made of vines and crimson roses, cushioned with an equally red pillow.
A sizeable bed sat toward the center of the room, a white canopy falling from the ceiling to each of the four posts, and a magnificent display of flowers topped them and decorated the tulle at the top.
The far corner of the room showcased a series of bookcases, each filled with books. A lavish reading chair encased with gold sat before them, a table beside to hold mugs of hot chocolate or treats. A gorgeous desk sat under the window nearby. String lights lined the walls, casting the entire room in an ethereal glow.
“Welcome home, love,” Price whispered to your ear and you slowly turned your head to face him, eyes wide to his narrowing blue ones as he flashed a smile.
When men give gifts to women, it is expected that the women shall paint a smile on their lovely faces and thank their men. In this case, men will think they have women wrapped around their fingers, just like a pet would stay obedient to its owner for food.
You glanced back at the room and shifted your gaze to the floor, before bringing your attention back at him. “Should I say thank you?” you asked him in a small voice.
“Isn’t that the customs?” He questioned, raising a brow. “When someone gives you a gift, you ought to show your appreciation. But we want you to do it in action, not words.”
You pursed your lips and frowned, contemplating your next words. This was a fucking deal with the devil. No, you were literally sold to four devil incarnates, posing to be good by giving you goddamned needs.
You knew in the back of your mind that this was manipulation, but were you in any position to refuse them? Was there ever a choice, when all there were behind the answers were consequences?
“How?” you mumbled, not daring to meet their eyes. “How am I supposed to show my appreciation?”
You slowly closed your eyes and let the warm water from the shower wash the sweat and . . . the disgusting feeling of the dragon and the incubus’ salivas from your skin. You lowered your head, making your tresses fall, framing your face, but they soon got swiped out of the way as Kyle took your chin and lifted it.
Your lashes flattered open and you gazed up at his caramel eyes.
He painted a small smile on his face.
Under the shower, you both stood soaked when he offered (forced) to wash you himself. You couldn’t help but gulp at the sight of his flexing abs through your lashes and thank whoever stood above all, he wore shorts, sparing you a look of his dick, which luckily didn’t look hard under the fabric at the moment.
“Are you done?” you asked.
You didn’t want him to look at your naked body—as if you hadn’t already flashed everyone (no thanks to Graves, that leech) — and get ideas. You knew wasn’t anything you could do to him if he wanted to take what he desired from your body, but there was hope in the thought that you could have control over their desires and lust for you.
You were already quite thankful when the dragon and the incubus had to go somewhere earlier and let the siren and the wraith look after you instead, for whatever reason. You couldn’t imagine what would they make you do in the pretense of showing them that you value whatever they give to you.
“No, not quite,” he hummed, cooing you as if you were some poor animal they brought home from an animal shelter, which wasn’t so far from your situation. He seemed soft, appeared soft, even his gaze was. But there was a hint of superiority and a condescending tone in his voice, which was well hidden, as in the meanings of the lyrics in a song.
“Come closer,” he commanded.
He was a siren, you reminded yourself. They were known to drive people to madness with the sound of their voices, and you might be going insane now, as you inched to his touch.
His thumb ran over your lower lip and slowly, forced it in your mouth, letting you soak the sliver of his skin with your own. His hand took your waist and pushed you to the freezing, tiled wall. Then, he removed his finger and shoved his mouth onto you.
Your eyes narrowed at the gentleness of his kiss, compared to the dragon and demon, and slowly you closed your eyes. His hand caressed your hip and leisurely hoisted one of your legs to his side, whereas his other hand cupped your cheek.
You found yourself growling in his mouth when his hand made its way to your clit, giving the sensitive bud painfully slow circles.
“Kyle . . .” You moaned into the kiss as he slowly put in a digit.
“Yes, love?” He pulled away, making you open your eyes, as he started to pump in and out, his palm hitting your clit each time.
“Fuck me,” you begged, watching his supposedly brown eyes were now flashing green. “Fuck me, Kyle.”
A smirk appeared on his face and he quickly pulled his finger out of you, eliciting a whine from you. He put a finger on your lips, hushing you and you threw your arms around his neck as he shook off his shorts, before he aligned his cock to your entrance. At an agonizingly slow pace, he dragged the tip up and down, coating himself with your fluids, and in a low voice, he uttered, “It’ll be fine, just listen to me.”
You nodded, drowned in the sound of his . . . voice.
His voice?
Fuck. Fuck!
No, no, no, no!
You quickly pushed yourself away from him, but with the slickness of his skin and yours, and that he was more formidable than he looked, he didn’t move an inch.
He laughed and flipped you around, slamming you to the wall. Your cheek planted on the cold surface as he snatched your hands and pinned them above your head with his hand. With one hand, he pulled your hips towards him, groaning at the feeling of your ass on his hardened dick and he began to grind on you.
“Didn’t think you’d catch on that,” he mumbled in your ear as his hand left your hip and wrapped around your mouth, muffling your protests. “That’s a first.”
You struggled—tried to slip out of his grip, but as you moved, he groaned. “Is this how you thank me?”
“You won’t appreciate it if I shove this down your throat, Gaz.”
Kyle looked over his shoulder and found Simon leaning on the bathroom door with a tray of food in hand. “Hey, Ghost.”
“So much for giving her a break,” Simon huffed, which the siren called with a not-so-uncanny nickname considering he was a Wraith, and turned away from the scene. “Enough of that and let her have a good dinner.”
Kyle, and for whatever reason the Wraith called him Gaz, heaved a sigh, and unhanded you.
You immediately jumped to the corner of the shower compartment, eyes wide to watch his movements, and found a mocking smile on his lips.
“How unfortunate.” He picked up his clothes from the floor. “We were just getting onto it.”
“I don't give a fuck,” Simon replied in a loud voice.
“You should give a fuck, she's our wife!” Kyle shouted back and walked towards the bathrobes and towels neatly folded in woven baskets, taking two from both.
You grimaced at his words.
A wife to a man was supposedly the other half of their soul, a person to whom they pledged an oath to uphold until their last breath.
But in this land, at this time and age, those words no longer exist. To women, they were nothing but a story now.
Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own
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#call of duty#john price x reader#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#cod 141#john price#kyle gaz garrick#141 x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#gaz x reader#ghost simon riley#ghost smut#141 smut#monster#monster x reader#monster x you#monster x human#monster 141 au#cod smut#john price smut#price smut#gaz smut#soap smut#monster au#cod
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“a test of endurance - part two”
contains: smut, gn!dom!reader x sub!johnny x sub!ghost, orgasm delay/denial, punishment, bondage (rope), nipple clamps, toys under clothing, semi-public
this work is part of a small “kinktober” thing - i sadly don’t have the time to write a lot, so instead of posting something for each day in october, i decided to try to post something on each sunday in october. here’s the first part!!
word count: ~1100
The next time you tease both your boys, it’s induced by Johnny.
On a cold Wednesday morning - Simon and Johnny are still on leave, you’ve got the day off work too - Simon wakes up to a strangled moan, mixed with a weird sensation against his thigh.
It doesn’t take longer than a second for him to recognise what’s happening - Johnny is humping against his thigh, cock catching against Simon’s boxers as it weeps, staining the fabric.
Johnny sighs and whines with every thrust, his body shaking. It’s been three days since you’ve denied them an orgasm, and Johnny, ever the needy brat, refuses to accept that.
So, waking up to you gone, presumably having left to buy some breakfast for the three of you, Johnny decides to grab the moment by its balls, having relieved himself of his clothes and now humping against Simon.
Could he have also just quickly stroked his cock, hidden away in the bathroom, to only be found guilty by the next session since he’s so bad at pretending to be desperate to cum when he really isn’t?
Sure, but Johnny is determined to drag Simon down with him. The blond bastard had it coming, he decides - boyfriend or not, Simon’s determination to be obedient is getting on his nerves.
Besides, the idea of corrupting the man into disobedience, breaking Simon’s perfect record, is very appealing.
And, - Johnny can only guess that it’s because the man is still half asleep - Simon takes the fucking bait, chomps down on it before he can realise that he’s become a fish on a hook.
“Johnny, wha’-“ he stutters out, “master told us not ta-“
And Simon reaches down, his calloused hand closing around Johnny’s weeping cock, clutching his base. Of course, he’s attempting to shove Johnny off, to make him behave by roughly tugging on his sensitive cock - Simon doesn’t want to be involved with Johnny’s disobedience.
Unfortunately for Simon, he choose the worst fucking moment to hold onto Johnny.
Unfortunately for Simon, it looks like he’s touching Johnny, giving him a handjob.
Unfortunately for Simon, you walk in at this very moment.
You almost drop the tray of breakfast you were holding, setting it down on the nightstand as you calmly walk towards your boys.
Your expression has immediately turned sour - from happy and kind to cold and mean. Johnny whimpers, but he can’t help his smirk - his eyes are betraying his excitement as he notices your disapproving glance at Simon’s hand wrapped around his cock. Simon has frozen in place, big brown eyes wide and glistening as he swallows, speechless for a second.
You sit down on the bed and look at your watch.
“You have a minute to explain yourselves.”
“I-I didn’t t-touch Johnny. ‘was only shoving him off, he was trying to hump me and I-,” Simon stutters, “I wasn’t bad, master, I wasn’t, I swear, please-“
Johnny interrupts his boyfriend’s babbling and - with a surprising gentleness - takes Simon’s hand off of his cock. Simon whines as he only realises just now that he was still holding onto his dick, which he knows looks bad. Very bad.
“Simon was touchin’ on me, master, he got my dick out n’ everything, ” Johnny lies, voice confident, “he’s a fuckin‘ brat.“
“‘m not, ‘m not, he’s lying, he’s lying-“ the panicked tone in Simon’s voice is heartbreaking, he looks like he’s about to cry. “Please master, don’t believ’ ‘im, he’s lying, I only wanted to shov’ ‘im off of me, I promise, master, p-please…”
You clap your hands, indicating that the minute is over.
“Alright. I’ve heard enough.”
Simon whines and slumps his shoulders, hiding beneath the blankets.
“I’ll punish you later,” you say, “my boys need some breakfast now.”
+🎃+
Johnny squeezes his boyfriend's hand as they huddle closer - he’s desperate to hide his whimpers and whines. Once again, you’ve used his sensitivity against him. There’s a vibrating ring nosing his dick, and it’s hell.
The vibrations keep him even more horny than he’s usually is, and the ring keeps him from cumming. Johnny’s walking slowly. If he moved too quickly, he’d rub the fabric of his boxers right against his leaky tip, and he’s already noisy enough.
The park you’re taking a stroll through is calm and empty, the cold october night illuminated by the street lamps, the (barely visible, light pollution and all that) stars and almost full moon. Under normal circumstances, Johnny would appreciate the scenery, but with a constant stimulus vibrating away at his cock - not a chance.
Then again, as he glances over at Simon, he wonders if he got the lesser of the punishment.
Simon is wearing the black surgical mask that he usually wears when going outside, and his hood is up, but the tears in his brown eyes tell of his distress.
The hoodie that he’s wearing, as well as the jacket, is some of the baggiest clothing that he owns, and Johnny well knows why.
Beneath all of his clothes, - of course, without intercepting his arms and legs - Simon is bound in tight rope. A beautiful pink, thin rope is artfully woven across his skin, teasing his sensitive nipples and his aching cock.
His hands are in his hoodie pocket, and they’re also tied together, albeit with a different rope.
Simon has always been susceptible to rope, the tight, woven restraints always signalling comfort, and to his dismay, arousal.
Johnny can imagine what it’s like - each step, no matter how slowly he’s walking - is tightly interlaced with the sensation of rope tugging on him, a constant reminder of the rope that’s both a thing to hold him together, and a thing that keeps him restrained.
Johnny knows that the rope alone is enough to turn Simon’s brain to mush. Too bad for him, because there’s not only rope on Si - you’ve used rough metal clamps on his nipples, a delicate weight hanging on both. Everytime he moves, the ropes running across his pecs tease the sensitive flesh, and Johnny knows that he’d long have started crying if he was the one in Simon’s shoes.
Luckily, he isn’t, because he knows that he would scream as you place a hand on Simon’s neck and tug at the ropes, rubbing against the clamps.
“Please, please, ahhh- master-“
Simon shudders and sobs, his body trembling as a few tears escape.
“Aww, baby, what's the matter?”
Simon hiccups and nuzzles against your shoulder as soon as you let go. Squeezing yourself between both boys, you place your hands on their necks.
“Let’s get you two home.”
thank you for reading!! here’s part one ❤️
here’s my masterlist!!
#dom reader#sub character#dom!fem!reader#sub!character#sub cod#cod x female reader#dom!reader#sub ghost#cod smut#cod x gn!reader#ghost x soap x reader#ghost x you#ghost smut#simon ghost x reader#ghost x soap#sub soap#soap x ghost#ghost x reader#ghoap#ghoap x reader#ghoap fic#ghoap smut#soap x you#soap x reader#soap call of duty#ghost x y/n#ghost x gender neutral reader#soap x gn!reader#gn reader#fem!reader
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Hunted
Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Cw: PiV, public sex, unprotected sex, prey/hunter
A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN Y'ALL!
Thanks to my friend Aiya for helping me with this<3, if I missed any content warnings please lmk.
You pulled up into the parking lot of the Halloween attraction organized in your town; you were supposed to meet your friend, Celeste, here. As you got out of the car and noticed your tall, blonde companion coming your way.
"Girl, you look so hot!" She exclaims. "Thanks", You couldn't help but smile at the compliment,
"So do you." She really did look amazing. Her long, straight hair was flawless as always, and she wore a bloody nurse costume with high heels, which doesn't seem like a good idea to wear here, but it's her choice. You headed to the main attraction—the haunted house. It was a large, two-story building. The walls were wooden, an ivy making its way to the dark roof. Most of the windows were blacked out by pieces of dark fabric; however, some of them weren't; instead, they had spiderwebs and other decorations.
The interior was equally dark and made to resemble an old, unoccupied house. You turned right and entered a large, dimly lit living room. The room looked dusty; however, it seemed to not be real as your allergic friend wasn't reacting to it. There was a dresser on the other side of the room, with another door right next to it. In the middle of the place there was a round coffee table with a gramophone on it, next to which was a rocking chair covered by a white tablecloth.
"That looks so cool!" Celeste exclaims. You agree as you step further into the room. You looked around and proceeded to go further. You approached the door as a masked figure jumped out of the closet. Your screams filled the room, which turned into laughs as your friend was being chased by the creature.
You proceed to go into another room, now alone. You enter a bedroom, presumably a child's since the bed was quite small and the room was full of toys. You heard the door open behind you.
"How did you manage to escape with those heels on?" You jokingly asked your friend as you went further into the room and looked around.
"She hasn't," a familiar, gruff voice answered behind you. You turned around to see your boyfriend, Simon, staring at you.
"Simon..? What are you doing here?"
"Why didn't you tell me you were going here? What if something happened to you? You don't know what kind of psychos come here to hurt people," he snapped.
"Simon.. I really wanted to go," you explained.
"You should've told me," he reasoned.
"I'm sorry," you said as Simon looked you up and down. His whole body blocked the door, which just reminded you of how big he was.
"You can make it up to me, you know."
"Wha—what do you mean?" You asked. No way he meant it like that. You're in a public place.
"Exactly what you're thinking," he answered, and you noticed his bulge pressing into his jeans.
"Run, doll. Don't let me catch you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Oh. That shouldn't make you so excited. You couldn't help but run, although knowing he'll catch you anyway. You sprinted out of the room and ran upstairs. You heard heavy footsteps behind you from the moment your silhouette disappeared from his line of sight; after all, he had to give you some time to start running; that's way more fun. You slipped on one of the last stairs but managed not to fall and got back to running. You had no idea where to go, so you turned right. There were 3 doors in front of you, and you quickly, yet quietly, went into the middle one. You entered a small kitchen. No other doors, no place to hide. Not good .You looked around and hid under a table, a tablecloth, which didn't cover your whole figure, but enough to not be visible unless someone lays down and looks for you. The table was tiny, though. You couldn't move without risking hitting your head or moving the cloth. You heard the footsteps getting closer. He opened the door to your right. All you heard was silence apart your breathing, which seemed as loud as a scream. You heard the door close, and then you heard another door opening. The door to the room you were in. His footsteps are now slow and calculated. You tried to calm your breathing down and stayed completely still. He walked around the table and stopped right behind you. "I can smell your perfume," he said.
Fuck. If you knew this was going to happen, you wouldn't have worn it.Maybe he's bluffing, though. So you didn't move and held your breath, afraid but also excited.
You heard complete silence when suddenly you felt a grip on your ankle. You squealed as he carefully dragged you out of your hiding spot.
"Found you," he leaned down and whispered. "Time for my reward."
He lifted you up and put you down at the table. He spread your legs and stood between them as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was passionate and demanding, and you were quickly out of breath from holding it earlier. His hands explored your body as he broke the kiss and looked you in the eyes, his gaze dark and full of lust.
"Please Simon," you begged for more. He leaned back in and started kissing and sucking on your neck as his hands traveled to your upper things. He gave them a light squeeze, and you lifted your hips up, allowing him to expose your body. He moved the clothes out of his way and ran his finger through your labia.
"Did that turn you on? Being hunted like that?"
You never told him that this is a fantasy of yours, but it turned you on even more than you thought it would. He inserted one of his fingers inside, but it wasn't enough. You needed him. Now.
"Simon, I need you," you begged.
"Are you ready?" He asked. He wouldn't want to actually hurt you, since he was far from gentle, but you didn't have much time. You nodded, and his hands moved to pull out his member. He was rock hard as he stroked himself a few times and positioned himself. He glided his cock up and down your slit and slowly inserted his tip into you. When he didn't spot any sign of discomfort on your face, he went all the way in, stuffing you full.
As much as he wanted to make this last longer, you had no idea when another group would show up. He groaned at the feeling and started to move in and out, setting a quick pace. He grabbed your hair and kissed you. He was so big, and it felt like heaven on earth. His hands traveled around your body as the pleasure consumed you.
"Don't stop, please, just like that," you moaned as you felt the pleasure build up. One of his hands grabbed your thigh to spread your legs wider as another moved to rub your clitter the way you loved.
"Come for me, baby," he said, and as if per order, you did.
He groaned as you squeezed around him. The hand, which was just rubbing your nub now gone, moved into his mouth so he could taste you.
"Taste so good," he growls as he keeps up the pace.
He picked you up, and you wrapped your legs around his torso as he continued fucking you. The switch in positions made his cock feel ever bigger inside you, hitting all the perfect spots.
"Look at me," he ordered.
The eye contact was intense, as pleasure and lust filled both of your eyes.
"I'm close," he warned, "where do you want it?"
"Inside," you answered confidently, feeling your own orgasm approaching again.
After a few deep thrusts, you tipped over the edge again, and as you clenched, he spilled his release inside you.
A few moments of catching your breath and you're putting your clothes back on.
"Didn't know you were into this kind of thing," he said. "We should do it again soon."
You blushed at the suggestion as you both headed to the exit. Only once you were back in the car did you notice missed calls from your friend, whom you completely forgot. Oops.
#tf141 x reader#cod smut#cod x reader#tf 141 x reader#cod mw2 x reader#tf 141#tf141 x you#cod angst#cod fluff#ghost simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley headcanons#simon ghost riley#simon angst#simon ghost fluff#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost smut#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley comfort#simon riley imagine#simon riley fluff#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#ghost fluff#ghost angst#ghost smut#ghost x reader#tf141 x reader#tf141 smut
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kinktober ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ ghost & soap ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ road trip
when you proposed a roadtrip to ghost and soap to the other end of the county, it seemed like fun. driving around, stopping at gas stations and restaurants, sharing songs on aux and having some deep conversations about everything and anything. well, yeah, no. it wasn't so fun for you.
because you were ovulating and now you were trapped for hours on end in a car, with two hot as fuck musuclar men. and that's straight up criminal. sittting in the back seat, getting a perfect view of their strong spread thighs right through the space left by the front seats. soap driving, one hand on the wheel and the other lazily draped on the gearstick. simon with one of his arms draped over the centre console.
all that powerful muscle, strong forearms and protuding veins making your already warm situation turn into an extreme hornyness one. thighs squeezing unvoluntaraly trying to get some release and a bit of friction on your weeping cunt.
you thought you were being sneaky, but there isn't anything that scapes ghost's keen eye, instantly catching you and making eye contact with you through the rear view mirror. he understands, he truly does. that's why he tells you that you might as well fully pleasure yourself.
those small encouraging words were all it took for you to start getting rid of your pants and panties and start fingering yourself, making a mess on the backseat. but simon, still watching you from the mirror, saw how desperate you were and how your small fingers weren't enough. that's why he decided to jump in the back with you, manouvering his big body over the cosole onto the backseat. he came to your aid, giving you a helping hand.
and what a helping hand! stocky fingers sliding into your already soaking wet cunt. he started with one and worked up more in all the way to three, fingering your pretty pussy until you came around his digits.
once he pulled them out and saw how dirty they were, he knew that you had to give him a little payback, helping clean them once he put them in our mouth. happily sucking your own juices off his fingers, wishing it were something else.
your blissed out but still needy face was all it took for simon to know that wasn't enough. so he seats himself properly before pulling his rock hard cock out of his shorts, standing tall as ghost grabbed your hips to move you and strat to slowly lower you until he's sitting snuggly inside your spongy walls.
but when you saw the vile smile plastered on his face through the driving mirror you knew your thighs were going to be burning because he wasn't going to any of the work. he was just lending you his cock so you could enjoy yourself.
you were trying, you really were, riding him eagerly and trying to get off, but sadly to no avail :'( so at your desperate attempts, ghost finally decides to give it a more hands on aproach. manhandling you into a diferent position so he could start fucking you in doggy. fully drilling into you.
your moans, the way you were getting fucked like a slut and the view from the rear view mirror making soap's cock impossibly hard. he was trying his best to keep his eyes on the road but it was becoming unbearable knowing he was missing all the fun.
so he stops the car in the first place he can manage and quickly jumps in the back with the two of you. ghost, seeing the desire in his mate's eyes, gives him the place plunging into your sweet cunt. johnny fucking his rock hard cock, hitting depply insie of you and making sure that you would be sore the next day. meanwhile, simon's prick sitting in your ass, having your ass cockwarm him.
let's say it doesn't end ther, both of them switching possitions and holes until the three of you are mess and have had your fill of fun on the cramped back of that car.
#cod#cod x reader#cod smut#cod x y/n#cod x you#cod headcanons#p!link#kinktober#john soap mactavish#soap smut#soap fanfic#cod soap#soap cod#soap x reader#soap x y/n#soap x you#ghost smut#cod ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost#simon ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley#johnny soap mactavish#ghost x reader x soap
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Who's Who, Darling? Part 2 | Poly141 x F!Reader
Tags / cw: fivesome (F/M/M/M/M), fingering (f!receiving), p in v, protected sex, blindfolds, finger sucking, a bit of spanking, light pussy slapping, edging (ig?), orgasm denial of sorts, birth control (IUD) mention, Reader is referred to as Pet a handful of times (mainly by Price), offscreen masturbation, polyamory discussions and agreements, no use of Y/N, no descriptions of reader | if i missed anything, let me know! w/c: ~3.4k A/n: this whole thing got away from me, it’s a long one. I’ve been slowly writing it as life hits me upside the head with a new pan every other day. If parts feel rushed, that’s predominately why. Proofread in the middle of the night so ignore typos, please. Also, happy Halloween! divider by @/saradika-graphics
The guys are making coffee and tea when you manage to pull yourself out of the bed and stumble into the kitchen. You’re flashed a smile by each and given pecks on the cheeks as you rub the sleep from your eyes and try to adjust to being alive and having them in your house—last night seeming like some mouthwatering fever dream. Soap suddenly proposes that he make breakfast for everyone and you whine, knowing just how inept he is in the kitchen. The little kitchenette in the break room on base has been closed down more times than anyone can count because he manages to set something on fire.
Price quickly banishes Soap to the living room and sends you along with him, but not before he hands you a warm mug filled with your favorite drink doctored just the way you liked it. There’s not much room on the couch, not with Soap sitting on the middle cushion with his legs spread out as far as they’ll go. He gives you a look—the ‘come sit on my lap, I don’t bite’ look—and you give in. It’s too early in the morning to be stubborn, to be standing honestly, and you’re chilly despite the heat being on.
His thick arms wrap around you, pulling you as close as they can, and he turns on the TV. You notice as you take small sips from your mug that Soap’s eyes are trained on your throat as it bobs with each swallow. He gives you the sweetest look as he asks—begs almost—to give your throat a kiss. Tells you he’s been wanting to do it for ages now and that he promises not to bite.
Fucking liar he is. One peck to the center of your throat turns into another, then a dozen more with faint nibbles between each one. He licks your throat, too, which causes your breath to catch and thighs to press together. The throbbing in your clit worsens when he noses at your pulse point and whines, hips jerking lightly against your ass.
Ghost’s voice cuts through the faint buzzing in your ears and you wince as your arousal dissipates. He tells you breakfast is ready, but you’re not released from Soap’s intense hold. Ghost gives him a glare and Soap’s hips buck once more in response. You’re given one last nip before Soap lets you push off him. He trails behind you, the hem of your sleep shirt caught between two fingers.
Your place at the table has been set elegantly, as if you were royalty. Price pours you a glass of juice while Gaz pushes your chair in and lays a napkin (really it’s just the second cheapest kind of paper towel you could get) in your lap. Ghost places your plate before you and awkwardly gives your head a pat when you thank him. It’s awfully charming being treated so well by them, but there’s a bit of suspicion lurking in the back of your mind.
It’s not your fault the men you’ve entertained in the past have be lackluster in…well, just about every way.
They all sit on the other side of the table, crammed together like sardines in a tin as they dig into their own omelets and hash. Your omelet was the prettiest that’d been made: no tearing along the seam, perfect gold spots across the outside. The seasonings used were light and complementary. Ghost had been the one to cook it, you reasoned. He was a maestro in the kitchen, always bringing in little bits of what he’d cooked the night before to team meetings or sharing his food during breaks in the rec room when it wasn’t under repair because of Soap.
Your appetite quickly fades as you wonder when the topic of ‘Round Two’ will be mentioned, or if Ghost and Gaz’s hints of things turning into something more will be touched on. Both have been sitting in the back of your mind since last night to the point you recall vague dreams regarding them. The anticipation of a talk makes faint nausea build in your belly as your heart keeps wondering and hoping, hoping, hoping—
Price clears his throat and your fork skids on the plate. The screeching of metal on porcelain makes your skin crawl and your teeth ache. All four of the guys look at you with concern and you wave them off, quickly taking a sip of juice. The anticipated conversation begins once you swallow, no chance of any spit takes or choking.
He puts it all very plainly: the four of them do want you. They’d been keen on you for the longest but had all agreed to refrain from making any moves to preserve camaraderie but then you’d gone and complained about your workload and not being laid. The perfect opportunity for them, for you. He tells you they’d talked about how things would go afterwards, the proposition of some kind of…situation or legitimate relationship between you and all of them.
It’s stressed that there’s no pressure, no true expectations of anything—the military’s funny that way sometimes; the expectation for anything to work out often squashed without realizing once it begins to grow. Soap becomes a little pouty when Gaz assures you they’ll all be okay if you decline round two of the bet, or if you ask them to just forget anything ever happened.
That’s when you ask if you can say your piece and you’re given the floor. You find it flattering, and jarring, that they’ve all had their eye on you for a while. You admit you can’t help but pay close attention to them as well. Sometimes you think you know their personalities, talents, and appearances better than your own. And you express that round two is something you desperately want to have happen. But, the prospect of a relationship of any kind between the five of you makes you twitchy despite the last twelve or so house of constant dreamy pondering.
You explain, not in too much detail, that your past relationships and dynamics haven’t been the healthiest. Each one adding a new boundary and expectation to an already long list. Anyone you get with in the hopes of something serious is quickly met with said list because you’ve learned to never assume that people will be good and faithful. You tell them that you’re willing to explore things with them if they’re amenable to be respectful of that list—and of course, you would be be respectful of their limits.
They hear you out when you tell them you’d want something closed, just the five of you. Everyone intertwined in various pairings if that’s what they wanted, but no outside people. Too complicated, too risky in some circumstances. No one throws a fit or even looks the least bit bothered by the boundary which settles your nausea significantly. Slow and steady is your next big point. You want to explore things with them as they come up naturally, be it kinks or troubles or life in general. Rushing to force an experience, you have found, cheapens it and leads to some form of relationship burnout that you don’t want to experience with them or have them experience with you.
It’s all quite formal, their agreeing to what you want and stating their own boundaries—no secrets, the relationship still exists but becomes second place when on a mission or otherwise at work, communication remains at the forefront of everything—which you’re happy to agree to. You’re half-tempted to get some pens and paper to really seal the deal, but you settle for pinking-promising with Soap which seems to be enough for the others.
Breakfast is through not long after, and you work with the guys to put away leftovers and clean up the kitchen. You get a kiss on the cheek or shoulder, a firm hand pressing your back whenever they pass by you. It makes your skin heat, your stomach and heart in some mild flux at the constant sweet attention that is all yours. They receive their own affections from you, a peck in return for a peck, a gentle lean into their side when their shoulders brush yours.
Soap mentions needing a change of clothes—toiletries, too—and the others echo him. They’d be gone for a while, base was a healthy distance from your home which is just how you like it, but you didn’t want to be alone while getting ready for round two. You ask if they can grab some of Price’s stuff to bring back while they’re on base so he can hand around to take part in the prep since he got so little time with you last night.
And that’s exactly what led to you trying to tune out the grating voices of sports casters while being prepped on the couch.
Price has been idly fingering you for the last hour while watching a rerun of a football game he missed during the last deployment. He slowly presses two of his thick fingers into your cunt, keeps them still for a moment or two before he crooks them and you tense around them. Then he pulls them most of the way out while spreading them bit by bit, only to push them back in.
Occasionally he’ll get a text, sometimes multiple at a time and you know it’s from the others because of the little text tones. Whatever they send him has his hips bucking, causing his hard cock to rub against your stomach for a bit of friction before he settles.
You want to bite him for being such a fucking tease but you can’t find much purchase to do so given that you’re draped over his lap and pinned there, face buried in one of your fluffy throw pillows that Soap teased you for owning. You also remember that it was you who asked him to stay behind to prep you and to do it his way.
The front door opens and you perk up to the best of your ability. You try to squirm a bit so you can go greet the others and find out what they’d been up to, but John’s hold on you tightens. He gives your bare ass a light slap, soothing over the spot as the faint burn of pain faded. The others come into view and you whine at them, but they don’t pay you any mind, leaving you to your fate with Price as they go to the bedroom, shopping bags and luggage in hand.
“I didn’t know they were going to the shop, too. What did they get?” you ask Price.
“You’ll find out when we’re ready for you to,” he says as he slowly presses a third finger into you. The stretch is bordering on uncomfortable. His free hands soothes your tensing back. “Three’s all we’ll do—that’s what we agreed on. Relax for me, pet.”
You huff, feigning annoyance while relaxing to the best of your ability. His three fingers are about as wide as your biggest toy. The same one that sits at the back of your nightstand drawer, used only when you have a fully uninterrupted day off, something you haven’t had in ages. It simply takes too long to prep yourself and when you’re ready, you’re too tired—annoyed, too, sometimes—to do more than cockwarm it for a while. It was also hit and miss if penetration did much for you.
Something thuds in the bedroom and you bang your head against the fluffy pillow. “If they break something up there—“
“Nothing’s broken, pet. Gaz probably tripped on Soap’s damn boots, or Ghost’s turned one of them into a pretzel for being annoying,” Price said.
Price gets a text and he pulls his fingers out of you slowly. He’s gentle as he grabs hold of you, a wall of muscle for you to lean on as the shaky muscles in your legs remember how to work. The bed’s been stripped down to the fitted sheet and mattress protector under it, a lone pillow is at the foot of the bed. Water bottles and a variety of snacks have been laid out on your desk, the lights dimmed and tower fan turned on to manage the temperature. Ghost hands you a lilac satin blindfold, a definite upgrade to the sleep mask he’s now tossing in the trash bin under your desk.
A quick refresher of the dos and don’ts and safe words are had before Ghost helps you lay the strip of fabric over your eyes and tie it in place. You casually drop that if the others want to toy around with you while you try to determine who’s fucking you, they should go for it.
Four sets of hands guide you onto the bed and put you on your knees, the pillow secure under your elbows. Belt buckles clank and fabric rustles, you hear whispers before a box is opened and foil is crinkled—condoms. Condoms had escaped your mind but not theirs, and you’re glad. Sure you’ve got an IUD that’s going to need replacing in a handful of months, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. None of you could afford the scare that came along with not using condoms.
The bed dips as one of them kneels behind you and you try not to flinch when a firm hands rests on your hip. You arch your back as his tip presses against your slit with the slightest bit of pressure. It’s when he slowly presses into you that you realize just how necessary Price’s three fingers were. The stretch makes you shudder and clench, your inner voice reminding you relax as he massages your hips.
You give him a quick thumbs up when you feel situated enough. His movements are slow at first, he pulls out halfway before guiding you back until your ass is flush with his hips. You feel unruly hairs scratch your cheeks and shake your head, knowing full well who it is: Soap. You may or may not have caught a few glimpses of his bush, at least the top bit, during the times he stretches his arms over his head after unbuckling his belt post-mission or training.
He reaches around and between your legs to toy with your poor clit that had been ignored by Price for a whole hour. You whine into the pillow as your body shudders with pleasure and your hips jerk to chase his teasing fingers, pulling you out of the steady pace that had been set. You hold off on saying his name because he’s at least trying to be a giving partner, but it stumbles from your lips when his pace gets faster and jostles you closer to the edge of the bed.
Per the rules of the bet, his turn is over. He slips out and carefully pulls you from the edge. You feel a little bad that he didn’t come, but then he groans softly across the room and you know he’s taking care of himself just fine. And probably sitting naked on your leather desk chair at that.
Someone gently turns you onto your back and settles between your legs, cool hands guiding them to hook around his hips. You’re given a bit of time to adjust to him before he’s leaning on his left forearm and thrusting into you firmly. There’s no way to identify him by his manscaping, or lack thereof, and he hasn’t started using his hands or making sounds, which quickly frustrates you.
Patience isn’t your main virtue, you’re learning.
You scrunch your nose and move your brows, trying to get the satin blindfold to shift so you can get a glimpse of something but you hear someone ‘tsk-tsk’. Then a hand slaps your cunt lightly—Price’s hand, it felt the same when he spanked your ass earlier. You writhe and moan as Price occasionally pats your clit while you’re getting fucked, the stimulation causing that dizzying tension in your belly to coil tighter and tighter.
Those thinner, longer fingers that tormented you last night ghost over your lips and you part them. You lay your tongue out flat and then lick the finger that prods at the pointed tip of your tongue. Your lips wrap around two of his fingers and suck lightly, moving your tongue against the undersides. The man doubles over, hips stuttering as he comes. He pulls his fingers free and you wipe the spit from your lips as you say his name—Gaz—softly. He presses a kiss to your lips before pulling away and hopping off the bed.
Either Price or Ghost take Gaz’s place quickly, resuming his pace to keep your arousal from dissipating. You’re hoisted up by four hands and you quickly wrap your arms around the man’s neck. He guides your hips to rock with his as he whispers in your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek. Ghost lays you back down as you do what he asks and say his name. He wanted Price to have the final go, to have his fun and to make you come.
You latch onto Price like a leech when he hovers over you. That hour of prepping you taught him exactly what to do, where to press and when. As he pulls out, his thumb moves faster against your clit before slowing as he thrusts in, your back arching and body burning. Sweet praise comes at you from all sides, filling your brain with cotton as you try not to let go too quickly but when Price calls you their ‘sweet pet’, it’s all over. You’re coming around his cock, crying out brokenly as hands move across your body to limit the jerking of your limbs. For a moment everything’s quiet, then a heavy and hot weight is on top of you, panting in your ringing ears.
Price pushes off of you and helps you sit up against a bunch of pillows that are shoved under you. A water bottle is shoved in your face right as the blindfold comes off. You sip at it while you watch Soap, Gaz and Ghost bumble naked around the bedroom to find the wet wipes the apparently bought, and your backup sheets and mattress protector. Price is half holding you as he asks how you feel and if everything was done to your liking. You tell him you’re good but tired, and that it was quite enjoyable. You check in with them, as well, getting smiles along with affirmative answers.
The next thing you know, all four of them are filtering in and out of your shower, quickly washing up and helping you do the same before they tap in the next one. Dinner consists of five different pizzas, a shabby blanket fort in the living room, and a campy horror film that puts you to sleep across their laps halfway through it.
What if I put reader on leave with in an array of dildos and a new vibrator while the guys go on a mission…? I’m thinking some thoughts. Anyways, poor Soap. He hasn’t even come close to making reader come and it makes me so happy. He’s the character I love to be sadistic towards. Last time it was Ghost x Gaz who got her off, now it’s Price. He’ll get his turn eventually…
#cod smut#poly141 x reader#x f!reader#john price smut#simon ghost riley smut#kyle gaz garrick smut#john mactavish smut#cod fanfic#price smut#gaz smut#soap smut#ghost smut#honeysickledream#mars' writing
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not sure if you’ve done this already— but what about simon with a reader who’s too afraid to make any noise in bed ? 🤔 i know we all love this hunk of a man as a big dom in bed, but what if we amp that with a bit of soft love? soft degradation if you will 😏…
nsfw:
simon is a bit offended when you hold back your moans, thinking that he isn’t doing good enough (he is). so he huffs and pushes your legs against your chest, making you squeal, his hips thrusting into you without mercy.
"come on baby, let me hear ya'. be a good lovie and let it out." he groans against your hear, one of his hands below your knee keeping your leg against your chest and his other hand playing with your nipple.
and it feels so good that you cant hold it back, you start moaning and gasping his name and little pleads for him to go faster.
"see baby, its better when ya let it out. i hate it when my little slut is quiet."
#ghost x male reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x male reader#simon riley x reader#ghost smut#simon riley smut
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nsfw, mdni.
simon becomes an absolute dog when he sees you in his shirt.
cw: possessive simon, sex on carpet (ouch), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink (?).
simon is a good roommate. he’s organized, clean, pays rent on time, and minds his own space. the only thing is—roommate is hot. stupidly hot. you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he’s never once brought back a girl let alone mentioned one. you figured your little crush on him would pass like all the other (it does not). you start dropping hints that you find him attractive. like wearing your tightest tops, brushing your ass against him while reaching for a cup, even leaving one of your lacy thongs to mix in with his laundry. he never bites the bait. you start to think that maybe he just doesn’t find you attractive or even worse he finds you creepy. so you tuck your schoolgirl crush away into the cavity of your chest.
you close the washer with your hip, cradling your laundry basket back to your room. you hear the familiar turn of your front door lock letting you know simon is home from his morning gym session.
you pad into the living room to ask simon if he needed any clothes washed. simons back is turned from you when he begins to slip off his trainers, dropping his gym at the foot of the door.
“need any clothes washed? i’m starting a load up right now.” you ask eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his compression shirt.
he finally turns to you and starts to respond “nah don’t think-“ before he snaps his mouth shut when he sees what you’re wearing. “that mine?” his voice gruff, it’s his army issued shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. a deep green color that frays at the hem and has his last name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring at the worn fabric waiting for an answer.
you look down, “oh yeah. sorry was doing laundry found this in hamper. my clothes are in the wash. hope that’s okay?” you sound apologetic like you just did something unforgivable. jesus christ what were you thinking wearing his shirt without asking. you shift trying to ease your embarrassment.
he’s on you in three short strides. making a noise between a growl and snarl. you don’t know how or when you both ended up on the living room floor. frankly, it’s the last thing on your fucking mind now that you’re on your knees cheek pressing into the shag carpet. you can feel the heat of his stare between your legs. you get a glimpse of your shorts and panties strewn across the floor leaving you in his shirt. you wait with bated breath for him to touch you. you wiggle your hips in a silent plead to get him to do something, anything…everything.
he gives the flesh of your ass a heavy smack that has you clenching around nothing. “be good now.” is all you hear before the sting leaves an angry red mark that you know is gonna leave you wincing for the next week. simon smooths a hand over the back of your (his) shirt making a noise in the back of his throat.
you hear shuffling behind you before you feel the head of him catch on to your opening making your mouth gape like a fish out of water. he groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips, before he presses in painfully slow with a hiss. you whimper into the carpet, fists balling, feeling hot all over. your cunt pulses trying to make room for him inside your womb.
“i know. i know, pretty girl. almost there.” simon bites back a hiss when you clench at his words. you think you might die like this. laid out on ugly apartment carpet trying to take simon’s cock. you could cry with relief when you feel simon’s balls meet your clit letting you know he’s all the way in. simon lets out a guttural sound bordering on animalistic at the sight of you speared open on his cock, last name across your back, absolutely crying for it.
he fists the bottom of the shirt to keep you still and eases his hips back just to sink back in slowly. the pressure in your navel hurts so good it’s starting to make you dizzy. simon sets a pace that has you trying to cant your hips back to meet his thrusts. he lays a heavy palm in the middle of your back, just under the boldened ‘RILEY’, keeping you pinned giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.
“prettiest fuckin girl i ever seen. gonna give this cunt the proper treatment she deserves, yeah?” he bends his left leg, somehow sliding in deeper. there’s no doubt that you can feel him in your lungs. “s’deep simon.” you slur, reaching a hand back to weakly press against his stomach. he chuckles at the act taking both wrists into one of his hands pressing them at the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. you sob at the change in angle. your nipples being rubbed raw by the friction of his thrusts.
“needed this real bad, huh? don’t worry baby. i’ll make sure you don’t go without it again. wearing those tiny tops think i didn’t notice.” his voice rough and deep behind you. “uh huh.” you reply without a second thought, you don’t even care that you’ve been drooling into the carpet or that you’ve been caught. simon gives a deep chuckle at how pliant you’ve become just from some good dick.
he knows your close by the increasing volume of your sounds. he never lets up his pace determined to give you his all. “where?” he asks in a quick breathe. you take a few seconds to register his words. “huh?” you manage to squeak out. “where do you want me, pretty thing?” he says in an almost pained voice. the gears turn in your head before you speak up “inside. want it inside. m’clean. pill.” resorting to short clipped words. you beg, as if you have to, simon thinks.
your orgasm comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out garbled version of please and simon. simon is not far behind burying himself as deep as your bodies will allow and comes inside with a pinched “oh fuck.” he pulls out with a pop and watches his spend leak down your slit leaving a small puddle on the floor that he knows he’ll have to scrub out later.
simon pats your backside affectionately. “don’t think we’ll be doing any laundry today” he says with a grin that makes you giggle. “yeah, don’t think so.”
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