#strlingsavwrites

[strlingsav]

Virtue

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Simon learns you're a virgin.

Requested: @ghostunderground76

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Simon had a knack for making you uncomfortable; not in a way that made your skin crawl, instead, he made you warm. Inside and out. Feverish with desire, lust growing like a weed in your gut, strangling and taking everything in its path hostage. You had a difficult time pretending he had no effect, no impact on your feelings, but you were easily given away by the pulse in your throat, the heat emanating off your cheeks.

He found it entertaining. Nothing more than a bit of banter between friends- unless you suggested otherwise, of course. He wasn't lying when he'd say your arse looked nice, or that your shirt was pretty much useless with the amount of cleavage showing. He liked watching your lips part in shock, the doe-eyes you'd look up at him with. He couldn't help himself, and though you'd take everything he said with a grain of salt, he meant it.

You had an unintentional habit of making Simon uncomfortable too; licking your lips, letting your hand rest on his arm or shoulder, falling in closer to him to hear what he'd said. He knew you didn't know what you were doing, he could tell by the innocent expression of ignorance on your face when he'd mention it to you. It was why he liked teasing you so much, you'd always react in a way that aroused him.

He'd tried to keep his distance for a while, knowing if he kept at it he'd be in deeper than he was used to, but everything about you was impossible to ignore. He had a difficult time outright admitting to his feelings, finding the sexual innuendos and allusions to sex much easier to navigate. At a certain point, however, he realized he'd dug himself into a hole, unable to climb out no matter the circumstances.

You'd known each other for a couple years, finding friendship through the people you knew. But it wasn't viable anymore, not when Simon couldn't be in the same room as you without feeling suffocated by you. You were blinded by innocence, unaccustomed to men searching you out, showing blatant interest.

It wasn't until you were on his couch, your mutual friends having taken off already, that he realized he liked having you around- more than anyone else, instead of anyone else. He couldn't help but stare at the curves of your lips, your eyes, your bare thighs in the shorts he'd teased you for for being too short. You ignored him, though not without flushing and biting the inside of your cheek.

There was undeniable tension in the room. A stalemate between you as you stared at the movie playing on the TV screen. It was oddly domestic, sitting side by side, your knees knocking into each other, his arm around the couch, barely ghosting your shoulders. It was comfortable- enjoyable.

His head turned, and from your periphery you could see him staring you down. He waited for a few moments, until you turned to meet his gaze. He leaned in and kissed you. Soft, fleeting- then you chased after his mouth and found yourself straddling his waist.

Then, it was messy. Harsh and fevered. Your hands sliding around his neck, his finding your waist with a firm hold. Your hips moved slowly against his, unintentionally rocking over his groin as you dove further into his lips.

Your tongues slid together, finding each other between the opening of your lips. Your quiet moans were muffled against his face, exhales of relief fighting the growing urge to move a step further.

His hands lifted the hem of your shirt, tugging it up off your body. His attention fell to your breasts, his hands gliding up your sides to cup them with his hands, gentle squeezes coaxing a shiver from your core.

You searched his eyes for any hint of regret, but he only stared at you- a glassy veil of lust in his expression.

He could hardly stand it, having you in his lap, your body in his grasp. His heart was pounding against his rib cage, with such force he almost worried you could hear it. It nearly crawled up his throat, but instead, he choked out words that both aroused and shocked you.

"You torture me, y'know."

There was no derisiveness in his tone. Nothing to imply it was another instance of his teasing. It was simple, matter-of-fact; if you didn't know Simon the way you did, you would've believed it, wholeheartedly.

"Sorry?" You asked, an expression of amusement across your face.

"Y'heard me," He nodded.

"How so?" You grinned.

He wanted to move closer- to have you under him already, feeling every curve and dip of your body, but he held back.

"Been wantin' t'fuck you for a while," He stated, his eyes unwavering on yours. "Everythin' about you drives me fuckin' mad."

He had a hint of a smirk on his face- nearly camouflaged but you'd been watching closely. Your heart dropped to your stomach, still pounding harshly.

"You're an ass," You scoffed, turning away.

His hand reached out, gently hooking his fingers under your chin to guide you to his gaze again.

"I ain't bein' a prick," He said. "I mean it."

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat- another weed that managed to climb through you and take hold of your throat, your tongue. He was serious- and it made you freeze on his lap.

"Oh," You breathed out. "I didn't expect you to feel like that."

As if your pulse wasn't already high beyond the norm, it seemed to increase even more. You could feel the burning heat in your cheeks spread between your thighs, sparking an arousal that was familiar but had never been so strong.

He blinked slowly, his eyes falling to your lips before returning to your gawking eyes.

"You should," He said. "But I think you knew it already."

You shrugged softly, hardly noticeable.

"I guess, in a way."

"You gonna tell me you don't feel the same?"

Your brows lifted, quickly realizing you hadn't truly thought about having to reveal your feelings to him; that you wanted him so badly it ached- deep in your chest. You were apprehensive; your experience with love, relationships, men as a whole hadn't been entirely successful.

"I-I do," You paused, shutting your eyes as you deliberated within yourself. "Feel the same."

You wanted him. In every way. But explaining the circumstances of your hesitation was mortifying. He wouldn't understand, likely wouldn't want anything to do with you if he knew. He was far more experienced, and it made you grimace to imagine the number of women he'd slept with already. You couldn't compare, you'd drastically fall short in the way you wanted to please him the most.

"S'alright if you don't feel like doin' anythin'," He said, pulling your body closer.

"I want to," You started, your hands falling down his chest. "I just..." You trailed off, avoiding his gaze.

"What?" He asked, his eyes following you as you turned your head.

You cleared your throat.

Simon watched your face change, the reluctance in your expression. Your brows furrowing, your jugular pounding against your throat. He didn't let go, didn't let you wriggle out of his grip. His hands held tightly around your waist, his thumb gliding over the soft skin of your stomach.

"I haven't slept with anyone before." You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling even more vulnerable now that you'd admitted to your secret.

His jaw relaxed, shoulders falling as he digested your words.

"You're a virgin?" He asked, his lips parting with shock.

You wanted to bury your face in your hands. Your stomach must've been in your throat as nausea crept over you, and you couldn't swallow it down.

"Don't say it like that," You grumbled.

He gave a low chuckle, adjusting his hips as you slumped over on him.

"Nothin' wrong with that," He shrugged.

"I want to, I've just never been with anyone worthwhile."

"And I'm worthwhile to you?" He asked, watching your face soften.

"I think so," You said, tilting backwards to examine his face.

"Y'want me to take your virginity?" He asked, cocking his head ever so slightly. He had a small smile over his lips, still teasing you, even while you revealed your embarrassing truth to him.

"Don't say it like that," You repeated, scolding him again, embarrassed by the way he so brazenly announced it. "-And I've done other things." You met his eyes, watching his flicker to your lips.

He hummed, nodding. "Why don't y'tell me about it?" His hands tightened around you as he pulled you in.

His lips grazed your neck, eliciting a soft moan from your chest.

"What do you want to know?" You asked. There was hardly any strength behind your voice, between exhales and whimpers.

"You ever had anyone taste you?" His lips pressed firmly against your throat this time, languid kisses covering the expanse of your neck.

"Yes," You nodded.

"You like it?" He asked, his lips finding the soft spot behind your ear.

"Yes."

Your eyes shut, leaning into his touch as he devoured your neck, gentle kisses followed by teeth in your skin.

He moved you off his lap, letting you lie down beside him. He removed your feet from his thighs, shifting to kneel on one knee between your legs.

His fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, slowly pulling them off your legs, along with your panties.

He tugged his shirt over his head- already covered in a thin layer of perspiration from your bodies being pressed together. Your eyes dropped to his chest, firm pecs and muscles that lined his navel; it made your mouth salivate, the pool of arousal getting deeper with every passing moment.

He buried his face against your chest, lavishing your breasts with kisses, your bra offering a sliver of humility until he reached beneath you and unclasped it. He slid it off your body, now fully intent on pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking softly while running his tongue over the hardened bud. His other hand cupped your neglected breast, rough fingers squeezing and massaging the flesh.

Your back arched into him, breaths of pleasure leaving your lips as he moved lower. His hands wrapped around your thighs, hooking them over his shoulders as he leaned down.

"You alright?" He looked up at you, your calves resting against his back, thighs squeezing his neck.

"Yeah," You nodded. "Keep going."

He flashed a brief grin, before he dove down, leaving kisses on the inside of your thighs. You flinched every time he'd sink his teeth into the sensitive flesh, a soothing lick afterward that eased your nerves until he'd strike again.

His lips made contact with the skin bordering your pussy; you awaited his tongue with trembling limbs, shaky breaths that caught in your throat. He didn't make you wait long, before his warm tongue slid between the furrow of your pussy. It made you lurch forward, the sudden infliction on your clit making your stomach tighten.

"So fuckin' good," He mumbled, sucking in a sharp breath.

You exhaled- a whimper leaving your lips at his words.

He kept your thighs pried apart, no matter how hard you tried to clamp them around his ears, or how much they shook over his shoulders. His fingers left impressions, digging into the doughy flesh as he too found himself invested in your taste.

The sounds his mouth produced while pressed against you were vulgar, loud slurping and sucking, lapping at your clit. He would move his head side to side, grunting against you as his tongue slid over your clit.

"You want my fingers?" He asked, pausing to look up at you.

You nodded, "Please," You breathed.

You felt a finger slide inside you, letting out a sigh as he curved it against your G-spot. His tongue reached your clit again, a bit faster now as he continued to hook his finger in your walls.

You gasped softly, your hips shifting with impatience as your orgasm teetered on the edge. He could feel your walls pulsating, short bursts of squeezes around his fingers. He watched you, your eyes shutting, your lips parting as you moaned into the open air.

Your body was enveloped with a searing heat, your heart racing in your chest, your pussy fluttering with pleasure as you closed in on your climax.

The last flick of his fingers and caress of his tongue pushed you over the edge, falling into the impending pleasure that awaited. Your hands reached his, grabbing and squeezing when your abdomen tightened. Your pussy clamped down around his finger, nearly stopping his beckoning motions as he continued through your climax.

"Yes," You choked out, low and uncharacteristically desperate.

Your hips writhed against his mouth, taking deep breaths as you recovered from the strenuous exertion.

He sat up from between your thighs, running his hands up your body, climbing over you simultaneously.

"You still sure?" He asked, his eyes scanning your face.

You were out of breath, tinged a shade of red with the flow of blood to your skin. Your hands fell to his arms, gliding up to meet his shoulders.

"I am," You nodded, your hands now clasping around the back of his neck.

He nodded, reached down to unbuckle his pants, dropping them low enough to let his cock spring free. He was already painfully erect- nearly throbbing with the blood rushing through him. You took note of how big he was, a bit intimidating for your first time, but you trusted him to be gentle, slow.

He was watching you the entire time, not paying any mind to how badly he wanted to feel you, to be inside you. It didn't matter how long he'd been practically buzzing with desire- he wanted to focus on you, to make it as pleasurable as possible for you.

"Done this more than a few times, huh?" You teased, having watched his expert fingers when he pulled his belt open with one hand.

He furrowed his brows, "You callin' me loose?" He asked, a small grin forming.

"Experienced?" You offered instead.

"You'd be surprised to hear it, sweetheart, but I ain't one for searchin' out pussy."

You nodded, a smirk on your lips.

"Virtuous man, are you?"

"Had a few," He tilted his head. "But you," He paused, leaning in to nuzzle his face into your neck. "I want you."

"You have me," You said, your hand cradling his head as he leaned into your neck.

"Not just tonight, sweetheart."

Your lips parted, searching for a response; something that would be equally as stunning to his ears, but you couldn't properly form a sentence. Not with the shocking revelation sitting in the air, taunting you.

"I need you," You whispered.

An invitation, a plea, a demand; a combination of all three. You didn't care how new it was, how intimidating it was to be experiencing something for the first time. You wanted him, needed him, much more than anyone else before him.

He shuddered against you, even more aroused to hear you beg for him. The sweet cadence of your voice in his ear, goosebumps covering his flesh; you did something to him he hadn't experienced in a long time.

He quickly opened the wrapper of a condom, one he'd tucked away in his back pocket in case you'd expressed interest in him the same way he did you; he was thankful he thought ahead. He usually did, it was ingrained in him now, imparted by his vigorous military training. He'd thank his drill sergeant one day.

"Might hurt," He said into your neck.

You could feel his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, the head of his cock barely intruding on the barrier of your pussy.

He used a bit more force, his hips moving forward to push past the plush muscles inside you. He watched your expression as you closed your eyes, bit down on your bottom lip.

"Look at me," He said. Not a harsh demand, a soft invitation for comfort.

You did, your eyes opening to find his.

It wasn't painful- not with the amount of effort Simon put into eating you out. It was strange, foreign sensation, to have something deep inside you, so much bigger than a finger or two.

"Y'alright?" He asked, clearly holding back, struggling through his question.

"Yeah," You exhaled. "Please don't stop," You said, your hands grasping at his hair.

"Fuckin' hell," He grunted. "You're fuckin' tight."

You could feel his hips retreat, gently sliding his cock back into you so not to hurt you.

He rounded his hips, his face inches from yours, an expression of disbelief on his face at just how well you were taking him, how wet your pussy had become after your orgasm. His lips were parted, face flushed as he rolled his hips into you.

Your head fell back, your toes curling as you brought your thighs to his sides, clamping them down around his waist. It felt right, comfortable, enjoyable. You hadn't expected it to be so easy.

You lifted your head to find his lips, pressing yours into his as he kept at his pace; slow strokes that stretched the entirety of your pussy, nearly meeting your cervix.

"Goddamn," He cursed, pulling back from your tongue to exhale sharply. "You're doin' so well," He praised. "So fuckin' well."

You smiled softly, your hands still clasped around his neck as his hips met yours. You removed one hand, knowing well enough that stimulating your clit was sure to help you orgasm a second time. You sucked on two fingers, before dropping them to the apex of your pussy, rolling them over the sensitive bud.

You'd half expected sex to feel amazing, like nothing you'd ever experienced before. Truthfully, it was Simon- his body over yours, his hands searching your body- that made it pleasurable. His concern for your well-being, making sure you were comfortable, safe; it sent a surge of arousal through you. You felt connected to him, bearing your entire being to him, and he seemed to find you fucking irresistible.

"Simon," You whispered, the soft tone of your voice meeting his ear. "Feels so good, Simon."

He would've crumpled, fallen into you and let himself go- but he wanted to see you climax. Wanted to see you fall apart while he split you open on his cock. He took a bit of pride in being the man you chose to experience it with, and he wasn't keen on making you regret it.

His pace was even, your fingers matching the speed as he drove in and out of you. You could see the droplets of sweat on his skin, the way his abdomen glistened as he moved. His eyes poring into yours, watching for any hint of pleasure, pain or discomfort.

He liked watching you, feeling you, just breathing you in. Your smell, your touch, being inside you was intoxicating. He was lightheaded, near his own orgasm, when he felt the familiar flutter around his cock.

Your eyebrows were drawn tight, lips open in a gasp that was trapped in your throat. He could see your eyes begin to flutter shut, your body freezing in a rigid stance- then your pussy constricted around his cock. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a guttural moan, gripping his neck, your nails digging into the skin.

"Simon," You choked, raking your nails down his back as your climax descended. "Fuck," You whimpered.

"Fuckin' hell, sweetheart," He mumbled.

His muscles flexed as he finally reached his peak, releasing into the condom with a shiver and a deep groan.

The air was still as you stared at each other, quiet recollection of what just took place. You didn't feel different, but you felt good. Still enjoying the after effects of your orgasm, the pliability in your relaxed limbs.

He sat back, helping you up off the couch. He offered you his T-shirt, holding it out to you.

He cleared his throat, "Feel alright?"

You nodded, smiling softly at his awkward disposition. "Yes, thank you."

"Y'can stay the night," He said. "I'd like it if y'did."

Your brows lifted, "So you weren't just trying to get in my pants?" You bit your lip, hiding the giggle at the base of your throat.

"Don't need to lie my way into your cunt, sweetheart. The truth seemed to do it well enough." He was clearly hiding a smile.

You gently hit his shoulder, laughing. Your energy quickly dissipated, and he pulled you into his side. He focused his attention back on the TV screen with a hand wrapped around you, the other on your thigh. You let your head rest on his shoulder, releasing a deep sigh of contentment.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ghost x you

[strlingsav]

Hiiii Sav 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Could I request a Ghost x reader trope that's like... love based off forced proximity/ circumstances? Can be in their line of duty, fake marriage, but please get creative🫶🏼 and smut ofc!! Thank you for reading 😸

Hellooo! 🫶🏻

You most definitely can, enjoy!

Closer

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— A months-long assignment has landed you in isolation with Ghost.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Your usual assignments were done alone. A few weeks, hunkered down in an abandoned site, surviving on MREs, cigarettes, and any alcohol you could find. They were the closest to a vacation you'd ever have, save for the uniform, guns and ammunition.

More often than not, you saved yourself from the warfare and stuck to surveillance. It was your specialty, a skill you'd turned into a career and notably so. John Price himself had requested you for the specially important recon mission, hearing talk from your past contracts about your detailed work.

In the past, you'd not opened yourself up to be recruited to a task force in hopes that you could keep some semblance of a normal life. Once you submerged yourself in your work, that went out the window. So you agreed, flew out to the location, and were dropped on a farm bordering a nearby city, of which Captain Price wanted more information. The rest was classified.

Not long after your arrival, you'd watched an armoured truck pull up the long gravel driveway. The soldier that jumped out, Ghost- as you'd learned to call him, was also assigned to your post. At first, you'd been irritated with Price for neglecting this detail, but once you'd learned that he was quiet and kept to himself, you didn't mind.

And he kept true to that fist impression. The introduction was short, hardly sweet, lacking emotion in his eyes and any effort in his voice. He towered above you, his body like that of a goddamn bear, and it made you nervous to share a house with him.

To say you didn't sleep with your pistol loaded would've been a lie- especially the first few nights alone with him. Of course, he insisted he'd keep to the first floor of the farmhouse, but you didn't trust the worn locks to keep a man his size out.

He took the night watch, often reminding you he had never been able to sleep, and was usually still awake during the day. Occasionally, he'd sneak off and rest for a few minutes, where you'd find him with his legs up on the aged sofa, hand across his face, soft snores on every exhale. It nearly made you smile the first time you saw it.

Your days were filled with quiet. Hours spent with your eyes peering through a pair of binoculars, jotting quick notes in the margins of already-full pages. Dates, times, movement, people, places. All of it, recorded, while Ghost played defence on the balcony, and lent an extra set of eyes.

You grew to enjoy the quiet. The deliberate looks while you passed each other, the knowing glances when you'd settle by the fireplace and eat your ready-made meals together. It was a silent routine that you'd perfected within the last few months. You eventually found yourself leaving the doors unlocked, putting away your pistol while you slept.

You began to nearly read each others' minds. Smooth, seamless interactions that made everyday pass with ease. Ghost was beginning to grow on you- the calming presence he offered, the endearing, mindless conversations that took place behind a bottle of bourbon. He even had a sense of humour- fucked as it was.

He was always willing to talk, to endure your mindless chatting every once-in-a-while. You'd not had an assignment with anyone else in a long time, and though your social skills were somewhat lacking, you could see Ghost becoming more comfortable. He enjoyed himself, actually.

"Price never told me, is this your first surveillance assignment?" You asked, setting the bourbon down on the table between you.

He shook his head, the skull staring back at you becoming a bit blurry under the influence. "Been other places before. Mostly infiltration, extraction, target searches, but not my first."

You sat back in your seat, your pyjama bottoms a laughable contrast to Ghost, who still sat in his uniform. You didn't think you'd seen him change, or whether he even owned civilian clothing.

You weren't usually so lax- didn't usually let your guard down after only a few months, but Ghost seemed to lure you in. You hoped it wouldn't prove to be a mistake.

"I do this a lot. Mostly alone," You replied, watching him intently as he lifted the bottle to his lips, and took a swig.

"Guess my bein' here throws you off, then." He swallowed.

"Not at all," You shook your head, your eyes watching him closely. "It's been surprisingly pleasant. I'm not as lonely as I usually am."

His gaze softened, acknowledging your compliment with a short nod. In truth, he'd grown fond of you too. Your little quirks, your sense of humour, even the way in which you organized yourself and your things day-to-day. Your appearance was just a perk. You hadn't caught him watching you, yet- he was sure you'd go back to locking your door if you had.

His watching wasn't entirely innocent, either. He'd catch glimpses of your thighs, your stomach; even your neck drove him mad. Shamefully, he'd finished to fabricated images of kneeling between those pyjama-clad thighs, watching your face contort with pleasure. Your gentle eyes and painfully inviting lips were always teasing him.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so close to a woman, lived with a woman. Regardless of whether it was an assignment, he began to feel comfortable in the abandoned house- like it was home. And as long as you were around, he found himself entirely distracted by you- whether it be your conversation or your face. So, your allusion to finding his company pleasant made his stomach flip.

"Still lonely though?" He inquired, his thighs spreading as he made himself comfortable on the rickety chair.

"You know how it is, I'm sure," You shrugged.

He did know. Fuck, did he ever know. But he wanted to hear you say it- hear you admit how lonely you are, how badly you missed being touched, kissed, fucked. It would make his intentions much less complicated.

"Not sure I do," He shook his head.

Your lips split into a grin- he was baiting you. You decided to give in, to see where it could lead.

"There are certain parts of you that'll always be lonely. Especially in our line of work." Your eyebrows raised.

His eyes pored into yours, watching you from beneath the yellowed kitchen light. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the wooden table, before he took another shot of bourbon. You rubbed your lips together- were you making more of his charcoal eyes staring you down, or was he imagining relieving some of the loneliness you so boldly talked about?

Your confidence had ultimately been increased with your drinking, and especially as his body language welcomed you in. Open arms, thighs spread, chest out.

"Doesn't always have to be that way," He said in return- optimism; unexpected but appreciated. His hips shifted again, sitting up straight as he subconsciously leaned in closer to you. "'M sure you've got options." Right there in front of you.

Was it an offer, or simply polite reassurance?

"Not as many as you'd think. And none as tempting as the one I shouldn't even be considering." You said, your eyes slowly lifting to his.

"What's stoppin' you?" His heart pounded in his chest as he awaited your response.

"Rules," You smiled softly.

You wondered if he had any idea you were referring to himself- surely he wasn't that oblivious. He had moved himself closer to you, watched your lips and tongue as you spoke- he was intrigued.

"Fuck the rules," He shrugged.

A deep breath in allowed you the momentary rush to stand to your feet and step toward him. You were close enough to cautiously lower yourself onto his lap, moving slowly until you were sure he was interested. His large hands flew to your waist as you planted yourself firmly. His expression- the little of which you could see, at least- remained unchanged. He wasn't oblivious.

His hands slid down your sides, gently caressing your hips before rounding your body and landing on your ass. He sighed quietly, almost unnoticeably- but his chest expanded and his grip tightened. A rough squeeze of your ass made you smile.

"Fuck the rules, then," You sighed, watching him grin.

He lifted a hand to your neck, long fingers tangling themselves in your hair, pulling your face closer to his so he could press his lips to yours. His mouth was warm and pleasant- just enough moisture on his lips to be soft to the touch. Your hands wrapped themselves around his shoulders, slowly inching closer as your kiss began to deepen.

His tongue slid against yours, forcing his way between your teeth and finding the soft, welcoming muscle of your tongue. He groaned, air exhaled from his nose fanning your cheeks. You returned the exhale, desperately sucking in air as his paw-like hands grabbed at your ass.

You couldn't help but grind forward, flinching subtly when his hands would palm your ass, or he'd so easily mould you against his body. His fingers were splayed out across your skin, calloused palms scratching the exposed flesh of your backside and thighs; his breaths became quicker with every slide of your hips over his groin.

You took note of what he seemed to enjoy- he was a bit rough, handled you with hint of carelessness and desperation, but you didn't mind. He was caught up in how your breasts felt against his chest, and how the curves of your body were so easy to glide his hands over.

Your fingers lifted the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, exposing your breasts. Ghost hardly blinked, his gaze falling to the supple flesh of your chest, nipples hardening with the impact of cool air.

"Christ," He mumbled to himself, especially hoarse and deep.

"Can I?" You asked softly, your hands reaching his shirt.

With a short nod, you lifted it over his head, revealing the physique of a hardened soldier- muscular, lean, bulky. Scars and burns acquired during his deployments flexed and rippled with his movements, his biceps popping up as he reached your hips with even greedier hands.

You'd stood to slide your shorts down your thighs, watching him lean forward to watch closely, to see every bit of you as best as possible. His eyes tracked from your breasts to your hips, eyeing the panties you wore, a single finger reaching out to hook beneath the fabric and tug it down.

In one fell swoop, his fingers slipped your panties off your hips. Before you could straddle him again, he stood to his feet, a hand wrapping around your waist and slowly turning you to his chest.

Goosebumps arose from your skin, his breath fanning the back of your neck, large hands holding you to his chest as his fingers crept toward your pussy.

"Been a long time?" He asked quietly, the rumble of his voice moving through his chest to your back. You shivered.

"Yeah," You nodded absently, arching your back, widening your stance when his finger reached between your folds. "A few years," You breathed, your head turning to find his eyes.

He leaned closer, his lips beside your ear as he simultaneously found your clit, applying the smallest amount of pressure to make your knees weaken.

"Stuck to doin' it yourself, yeah?"

Your cheeks flushed with heat, nodding slowly again, against his chest.

"Yes," You gulped.

"It ain't the same, is it?" He asked rhetorically, watching your nostrils flare, your tongue wet your lips as you writhed against him. "Don't get as wet when it's your own fingers?"

You shook your head.

"You're fuckin' wet now, sweetheart," He said, gruff and satisfied. "And I ain't hardly done anythin' yet."

You accepted his deduction, knowing he was right; it had been a long time, and it wasn't the same with your own fingers. Regardless, his warm body pressing against yours, his arms pinning you to him, his hard cock against your ass- he'd already done more than he even knew.

You whimpered quietly, dropping a few inches as he applied more pressure to your clit, working in circles while his lips clung to your neck. You tilted your head, allowing him more access, and wrapped an arm around his neck.

You breathed out, collapsing against his hold, letting him have his way with your pussy. You tried to hold out, to keep yourself composed, but the long, thick fingers rubbing short circles over your clit were going to cut your willpower short. His hand gripped your hip, pulling you against him, encouraging you to grind your ass over his cock.

You did- slow movements as you simultaneously ground your hips against his fingers. His breathing had picked up in your ear, harsh exhales as he held your body in his hands. You felt his breaths fan your neck, goosebumps appearing over your skin.

His consistent pace and gentle pressure made it easy to lose every other thought and focus solely on how his actions felt. Not longer after, he'd slid finger inside you, his breath hitching subtly at the feel of your insides. Warm, silky- enveloping him like a well-cushioned bed.

"Fuck, you feel good," He cursed. "You close?" He asked, feeling your thighs tremble.

You could only nod, focusing on the rough actions of his thumb, rubbing over your clit, and his fingers curling gently inside you. Your lips parted in an effort to suck in a breath, eyes shut, savouring the build-up and moments between where utter pleasure only began to spark. It didn't take much longer, your hands holding into his arms for stability as you came over his hand.

He slowly slid his fingers from you, satisfied with the trembling, weakened mess he'd made you into. His hands gently guided you against the table, pressing your chest against the cold wood.

You exhaled sharply, feeling his palm brush down your neck, then your back, before rounding your ass and leaving a gentle smack against your plush cheek.

You twitched, unsuspecting of Ghost kneeling behind you, parting your pussy to watch the liquid arousal seep out of you. You were still convulsing, when his tongue slid against you, his lips slurping against you.

A deep grumble of appreciation left his lips, vibrating through you. Your voice was hoarse, a moan squeezed out of your lungs that bounced off the table and rang loud in your ears.

"Y'alright?" He asked, accompanied by the sound of a belt buckle and zipper being undone.

You nodded, contorting your body to watch as his jeans dropped past his hips and his cock fell from his briefs. Your eyes widened when you felt him against you- he was bigger than anticipated, and you feared the consequences of being abstinent for so many years.

Surprisingly, as he slid in, your natural lubricant allowed him to enter you with ease. The stretch still stung, a quick sensation that made your body shudder. Your hands reached out before you, gripping the table as he filled you, his hips meeting your ass.

"Sorry, love," He muttered, "So goddamn tight."

"Keep going," You whispered, your body moving to watch him again as he thrusted the first few times.

His hands slid up your back, before settling on the curve of your waist. The leverage allowed him to get a better stance, and he bent down to meet your eye-line while his cock slowly penetrated you.

His other hand moved to grasp the back of your neck, his thumb on your jugular, eyes raking over your body but especially the view of his cock sliding in and out. It didn't last long, not when he reached beneath you to flick his fingers across your clit.

You sucked in a breath, letting out a short cry at the overstimulation.

"Was thinkin' about you, like this," He grunted. "Cunt spread open on my cock, that pretty face when you take it."

He was hoarse too, out of breath as his cock slipped in and out, his fingers still working at massaging your clit.

"Take it whenever you want," You pushed out, taking in a deep breath. "Just don't stop."

"Don't say that," He groaned. "Fuck- don't say that."

"I mean it-" You whispered, your eyes filling with tears, landing your cheek against the table. "'S yours," You whispered again. "All yours."

His hips stuttered, pulling his cock out of you before you felt warm liquid land on your back. You shivered again, feeling empty and exposed as he backed away.

He grabbed the nearest cloth, wiping it swiftly over your backside before you spun around to face him.

He arranged himself, doing his belt back up and adjusting the mask over the bridge of his nose.

"Get up," He said, gesturing for you to sit on the table, one hand around your waist.

"I meant it," Your eyes drifted up and down his body, your hand on his chest preventing him from lifting you. "Now that we have, we may as well take advantage."

Ghost stood quiet for a moment, as if thinking over your deal. He nodded, subtly at first, so subtle you hadn't even noticed, but then he agreed.

"Alright. Now- get on the table, 'n' spread those legs. Been wantin' t'taste you."

#cod mw2 #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod mwii #mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #strlingsavwrites

[strlingsav]

Jealousy

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Simon gets jealous.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

The room smelled of Price's cigar smoke and spilled beer; the consequences of poker night. Price, Gaz, Soap, yourself and Ghost were perched around the table, placing bets before the next round. It was a great way to blow off post-mission steam, and steal money from your teammates. You hadn't been so lucky thus far, Price was particularly skilled.

Your gaze lifted to study your opponents, holding your cards close to your chest. Price kept his cigar in his mouth, thick, white smoke trailing from his lips. Gaz had his brows furrowed, concentration on his features. Ghost sat beside you, hunched over the back of the chair. He too was surveying the room, cold eyes raking over the faces of his teammates. Soap was almost giddy, he was terrible at hiding how good his hand was.

You weren't particularly interested in cards, but you played anyway to pass time. It was entertaining from your end of the table, watching the chaos unfold as your teammates indulged one-too many beers. You preferred to stay sober- you weren't very experienced with the game, unlike Price and Ghost. You needed every bit of your sober disposition to play.

Your eyes drifted to Ghost, who had been burning holes in the side of your head. You blinked innocently at him, fluttering your lashes. A vicious tactic, you knew that, but the way his eyes raked over your face was worth it- you knew it would get to his head. But as you studied his face, his brow quirked up, and you saw the fabric of his mask shift over his mouth; he was smiling. You quickly broke the tension before anyone caught on to the silent exchange, redness engulfing your cheeks.

It came to the showdown, and as the men laid their cards out on the table, there was silence. Grunts of disapproval and low murmurs of frustration broke the air as they scanned their cards, comparing hands to each others. You looked out, over your cards, your eyes meeting Soap's gaze. He still held his cards, waiting for you to move.

"Go on then," He urged, hiding a smirk.

"Don't look so smug," You teased. "I'm about to ruin your night."

Soap let out a chuckle. "You could ne'er ruin my night."

You raised your brows. "Even if I take all your money?"

"I could list a couple ways you could make it up to me," He grinned.

Gaz groaned, far too familiar with Soap's antics. You nearly rolled your eyes, his comments were just a way to get in your head.

"You couldn't pay me to listen to that," You screwed up your nose.

"I could just show ya," He leaned forward. "I'm free later this evenin' if you're up for it."

You laughed. "You need to get laid, Sergeant, you're like a dog in heat." You shook your head.

"You offerin'?" He was grinning ear to ear.

"Enough," Ghost's voice interrupted the tension, almost soiling the playful mood. "Lay 'em out."

Your head snapped to look at him, now wearing an unreadable expression behind the mask. His eyes were stoic, body rigid, more so than usual. He had little to no patience, but he usually didn't mind Soap's ribbing, it was cheap entertainment.

You furrowed your brows in response, and he turned his attention to the Scot across from you, avoiding your gaze.

Soap laid out his cards, splaying them out before him. A straight. He sat back, hands behind his head, a grin on his face. You, in return, set your cards out, showcasing your winning hand; four of a kind.

Soap's face fell, mouth opening in shock as he stared at your cards on the table.

"Steamin' Jesus," He sighed. "You oughta be cheatin'."

"Don't be a sore loser," You smiled, leaning forward to collect the pot.

Soap was about to respond, when Price cleared his throat.

"Better luck next time," He said, hand clasping down on Soap's shoulder. "'M off to bed."

Soap still sat in disbelief as the Captain stood from the table. He took his beer with him, puffing his cigar as he left the room. Gaz and Soap finished the last of their drinks, and you pocketed your profit- Soap watched you with a glare. The rest of you decided to call it a night, cleaning up the remains of the cards and chips.

Ghost stood to his feet, finishing the last of his bourbon. You followed, creeping behind him when the others retreated to bed.

"Will you be joining me in my room tonight, Lieutenant?" You asked, a sultry tone to your voice.

He recognized it immediately, wanting desperately to follow, but he had already fabricated hallucinations behind his eyes of the Sergeant, and you- his girl. Soap hovering over you, privy to the soft whines from your lips, curves of your body, defiling your pussy- it made him sick. Only he had access to those intimate moments, or so he thought.

His chest bubbled with unspoken anger. He fought within himself, trying to rationalize, fight for you, but he inevitably gave in to the jealousy that clawed at his throat. It was the path of least resistance, to believe the worst from those closest to him. It was a familiar embrace.

He didn't say a word, his body tense as you slid your palms around his waist, easing into the gaps between his tactical vest.

"Someone could see," He said gruffly.

A lie- a white lie to give himself space. He knew no one would be coming back, not with the copious amounts of liquor indulged and the late hours passing by quickly.

You pulled away, a bit thrown by his rejection. It landed in the pit of your stomach, reached up into your chest and stole your breath. His tense disposition alerted you to the fact that something wasn't right, not since he'd snapped at the Sergeant.

"Alright," You sighed. "I'm going to bed," You fumbled with your hands, anxiety settling into the pit of your gut.

He set his drink down. "Be there in a bit."

Ghost was never usually so quiet when the two of you were alone, and certainly didn't deny your touch.

You nodded, choking down your questions so not to worsen his mood. Ghost excelled at hiding his feelings, on the rare occasion he found something that angered him. He wasn't fond of talking, of telling you when you pissed him off, so you kept your prodding to yourself until necessary.

With one last look over his back, you let him be, returning to your bunk.

You stripped out of your clothes, changing into your shorts and T-shirt after brushing your teeth. You waited with trembling hands, your anxiety increasing with each passing moment. You didn't know what to expect, who to expect. Ghost, or Simon. You didn't want to go to sleep with Simon angry, and his sour mood was gnawing at you. You wanted to fix it.

You settled into bed, blankets tucked under your arms. You tried to focus on your book, mindlessly running over the pages without absorbing a single thing. You were too preoccupied with Simon. You let out a sigh, listening for the sound of boots. Listening for him.

The door finally opened, and Ghost stepped inside. The air was thick with silent expectations, a waiting game. Who would break first, make the first move to say something- anything. More often than not, it was you.

You didn't mind being the mediator, you were excellent at communicating. It was ninety percent of your job. You only wished Simon would meet you halfway, but that wasn't the kind of man he was, and you'd learned to navigate it well enough. It was tiring, though.

You knew it wasn't that he didn't want to talk to you- he just didn't know how. How to express why he was angry. You were sure that before you, Simon fixed his anger by shooting things. Taking out his frustration on missions, on targets. He never needed to learn to communicate, he'd never had even a semblance of a relationship with anyone aside from his last girlfriend, when he was in his early twenties. He'd never been close enough to anyone to justify it.

You sat up, the book falling to the side as you readjusted in the bed.

Ghost began undoing the chest plate and other equipment strapped to his body. He was still quiet, and you watched with a frown.

"Simon?" You said quietly, gauging his reaction.

He looked over at you.

"What's bothering you?" Your voice was meek, uncharacteristically so, but you hated to see him that way and didn't want to push him even further.

He sighed, a heavy breath that sounded like it'd been trapped for days. He continued undressing, prepared to escape, to run from the conversation. But he knew you'd get it out of him.

"Simon," You said again. "Talk to me."

You tilted your head as he rearranged his things on the dresser.

"Nothin' to talk about, get some sleep," His voice was gruff, quiet, defeated.

"Talk to me," You repeated, your voice a bit weaker now.

"I said 's nothin'. Be fine in the mornin'."

"But you're not fine now. Just tell me."

You were getting worried now, stomach flipping. He paused, back flexing beneath his T-shirt as he straightened out. He turned on his heel to face you. He kept his mask on- another barrier between you, a reminder that even though you'd already clawed so deep through the layers of stone he built, there were still pieces of him you might never truly have.

"You wanna know?" He asked.

You nodded. "Course I do."

He shook his head. His shoulders tensed. You could tell he was holding back, not wanting to dive into the conversation headfirst. He was avoiding the question, his arms at his sides.

Finally, he spoke. Monotone, bleak- unencumbered by tact or empathy. It was a simple question. He wasn't one for dancing around a subject, he wanted answers, if he was going to talk at all.

"You been fuckin' the Sergeant?"

His eyes were unforgiving, an endless abyss of darkness ready to swallow you whole and eat you alive. You felt the pressure of his gaze, an invisible force pushing you into submission. You weren't one of his targets, but you certainly felt like it.

You blinked a few times, his words shocking you to your core. It deeply unsettled you. A bitter taste on the back of your tongue as you digested his words. It was entirely out of the blue- an unfounded accusation.

In all the time you'd been together, not once had he ever shown any concern over the men you worked with. You thought he trusted you. It stung, hearing him ask you such a question, you were disappointed he saw you capable of that. Of hurting him- adding to the array of scars on his body and mind.

"W-what?" You shook your head.

"Answer me," He said, hands extending to grip the metal footboard.

"I- Why would you even ask me that? No, I haven't been fucking Soap," You exclaimed, pulling the blankets back to stand up off the bed.

"Seems he fancies you quite a bit."

"Simon," You breathed in, arms crossing over your chest. "I haven't slept with Soap."

He was still stoic as ever, eyes clinging to yours as he debated the candour behind your words. You could practically see the thoughts behind his mask, knew he was clenching his jaw, nostrils flaring as he sucked in deep breaths to keep his temper under control. He couldn't always hide from you behind his balaclava, you'd seen his anger before, in true form.

"That so?" He moved closer, his shoulders swaying as he stepped toward you.

"Yes," You breathed, hopeful he'd believe you.

He was silent, only the sound of his breathing filled the air.

"You bein' honest with me?"

His skepticism was palpable and it broke your heart, even more than the question.

You'd given the relationship your all, everything you had. Given Simon your all. Every single piece of yourself was out in the open, ready for the taking, he just had to ask. You'd bend over backwards to please him, do anything to keep him. The accusation made you sick to your stomach, wondering where you went wrong, why you'd made him feel that way.

"Yes, I've never been unfaithful to you."

Your eyes met his, unwavering. You had nothing to hide- never had. Not from him. You ached to show him just how devoted you were. But your rational thought process was no longer applicable- Simon had tasted betrayal before, over and over. He was all too familiar with the feeling of a knife in his back, the aching pain that bombarded his entire body. The sting of humiliation, of leaving his peace of mind in the hands of another and having it torn to pieces. You knew he needed more, needed the reassurance, and he didn't need to ask.

"Ask Soap yourself- I don't care." Your pulse pounded in your ears. "Whatever you need to do to believe me."

He shifted his chin upwards, a weight lifting off his shoulders. Relief washing away the ache. He had a difficult time trusting, believing that you wouldn't hurt him- but you never lied. Always said what you meant, and you never burned him with false promises.

He went against every instinct in his body, every nerve screaming at him to run, flee, push you away. But even he knew that was his conditioning, his instincts weren't created in a world that had you- it was far different then.

"'S fine," He said quietly. "Don't need to."

You let out a sigh, still trembling with confusion and nausea. His chest rose and fell quickly.

"I ain't impressed with the way he talked to you," He said, moving closer.

"He only said it to get under my skin. Besides that, he thinks I'm seeing someone back home. I thought you knew that."

"I do-" He sighed. "S'pose I jumped the gun. Just- imaginin' you, with him," He stopped himself, knuckles white around the iron.

You nodded, still standing with your arms crossed. He would never apologize- would never say, 'I'm sorry', but his actions spoke far louder than his words.

He sat down on the bed, his hands reaching out for your thighs. You let him touch you, though you still felt a bit of resentment for his false accusations. You had to let go, had to remind yourself he only knew what he knew, what'd been done to him before.

He pulled you onto his lap, hands sliding around your waist as he tugged you closer.

"Y'still want me?" He asked, eyes flashing from your waist to your eyes.

"I always do," You said softly.

He nodded, a quiet moment of reconciliation, understanding. You knew that to outsiders it would look strange- the silent reunion between you. Apologies and forgiveness that were never really spoken.

"Take my mask off," He said, the timbre of his voice rousing the ache for him that lay dormant, sleeping until woken up by his touch.

You obliged, lifting the cotton fabric from his face, pulling it off to see the disheveled brunet hair beneath. Your eyes fell to his full lips, then you took your time savouring the way his crooked nose flattered his face. His lashes kissed his cheekbones with every slow blink, dark eyes narrowing as he tried to read your thoughts.

He leaned forward, pausing for a moment to glance at your eyes, before he pulled you closer, barely touching your lips with his own.

He sighed deeply into your mouth, a relief to hold you, know you were his, tangible evidence that he was lovable, that someone would crawl through the barren trenches of his mind to know him. He was unbelievably grateful; skeptical, too, but he chose to leave his faith with you for safe keeping. He'd let down most of his walls, for you, a long time ago, and thus far you'd done nothing but nurture him, love him. You'd proven him right.

You lifted your hands to slide around the back of his head, fingertips gliding into his ruffled hair. You couldn't get enough of the taste of him; tobacco, bourbon. You would tattoo it on your tongue if possible.

He pulled away, taking in your face; your features that drew him in, set his gut on fire. He'd kill for your lips, set cities ablaze just to look into your eyes one last time. The obsession worried him, it terrified him, but he was already addicted, too far gone now to do anything but surrender. He was more than okay with that.

"Could rip the smug grin off his fuckin' face," He said, fingertips digging into your hips.

"I think that would get you discharged," You teased.

"I'd kill for you, sweetheart. Gettin' discharged ain't a problem."

By his tone, you knew he was serious. As disgusting as it made you feel, you enjoyed it. You must've been sick in the head, but you relished in it. The level of determination he had- it warmed you to your core knowing he was just as committed.

"Prison time, then?"

"For you, not a second thought."

He didn't waste any time tugging you back in for seconds, this time, guiding his tongue in your mouth, swiftly gliding against yours. You moaned softly, an unintentional reaction to the warmth shooting up your spine. He knew you loved the feeling of his tongue, the way he was heavy-handed when he kissed you- unforgiving as he took what he wanted.

"Take this off," He breathed, fingertips inching your shirt up.

You lifted your arms to cooperate. The cool air hitting your body, competing with the heat in your womb, lavished your body with goosebumps. His calloused hands cupped your breasts, eyes locked on your chest as he massaged gently, coaxing the sweet sounds of pleasure from your lips. His white-hot touch erased any other thoughts, your sole focus was his hands on your body.

You could feel the arousal seeping from your core, head tilting back to allow him full access to your body. His hand moved to press against your back, a flat palm that offered support and comfort. He took advantage, pressing his lips to your skin. First your neck, his tongue running over your jugular, pounding in your throat. He absorbed it with his lips, teeth softly biting into the malleable flesh.

He ducked his head to show attention to your breasts, wrapping his lips around the silky tissue, sucking gently. A flat tongue ran over your nipple, and a jolt of electricity shot through your spine. You were still clinging to his shoulders, back arching into him.

You breathed heavily, so delirious with lust, desire, any touch from him was like lighting a fuse. He beckoned you to stand, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts. He waited for you, for your permission. You licked your lips, hands on his as you helped him slide the fabric over your thighs, landing on the floor.

He watched from a short distance, eyes raking over the tempting curves of your body, the incredibly silky glow of your skin. He too, licked his lips, his hands a bit rougher now as he pulled you back onto his lap. You gasped, falling against him, your thighs spread over his.

"You all mine?" He asked, head nuzzled against your temple, his gruff voice in your ear.

"Yes," You whispered. "Always."

"That's my girl."

His hand traced your thigh to your pussy, a gentle touch as he reached your clit. His gaze was locked on your expression, your lips parting, eyes shutting tightly. Your pussy was throbbing and needy, nearly burning with desire. You gasped. He peered down at your body, lips dragging against your neck.

His fingertips applied more pressure, relieving the dull ache, and he circled your clit. Your hips mindlessly drove forward, grinding yourself against his touch. He responded in earnest, moving his fingers quicker, harder.

Your head fell back as you basked in the pleasure coiling itself like a snake inside your womb. He had mastered your body, unraveling you in seconds like he did with his rifles. He had a knack for memorization, muscle memory, and your body responded the same way every single time.

He found pleasure in watching you squirm, pant and gasp, begging for his fingers. Faster, harder. He devoured your pleas, already one step ahead, feeling the way your hips moved, your waist twisted. When your fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him into your chest, trying to merge yourself with him, he slid a finger inside you. He groaned approval against your jaw, savouring the slick warmth of your pussy, a shiver running through his spine as he remembered how you feel around his cock.

"Y'like that?" He asked, even though he already knew the answer.

You nodded frantically, eyes shut as you focused on the building tension in your gut. The way it enveloped you, tugging at every nerve in your body.

"I know you do, sweetheart, know just what you like."

"Fuck- yes, Simon," You moaned.

It was never enough, not until he filled you completely. But he couldn't resist the satisfaction of your pussy clenching around his finger, especially when he added a second, listening to the vulgar sounds of your wetness squelching around him.

He marvelled at the sight of your climax; head falling back, a whimper ascending into a moan, your forehead prickling with sweat. It was impossible to tear his eyes from you, to deny himself the vision of you coming undone on his hand. Your ribs shifting with every breath, hugging your breasts as you leaned back. He lifted his other hand to run over the ridges.

You shivered, relaxing into his body as the last of your orgasm died out, breathing against his chest. He enjoyed the silence, watching you recover. He didn't allow you much time, shifting to lie you down on the covers.

He lifted his shirt over his head, his temperature rising as a result of his efforts. He crawled between your thighs, biceps wrapping around your thighs to pull you closer.

You didn't have much say, and you didn't mind. You were pliable with him, a willing participant to his pleasure. He did what he wanted, and you agreed in every possible way.

His calloused palms engulfed the flesh of your outer thighs, an iron grip you could never- would never want to escape from. His chest was pressed firmly to the bed, head turned to lavish your inner thighs with delicate kisses.

He quickly surrendered to his desire, not feeling particularly strong-willed, and bit into your flesh, licking your wounds. The silken moisture of his tongue against your thighs had your hips shifting impatiently, and he relieved your suffering, relocating to your clit.

You sighed softly, hips bucking up into his mouth as a jolt ran through you, still sensitive. He devoured your movements, hands clamping down to restrain you while he licked over your clit.

"Y'taste so good, sweetheart," His muffled voice against you made you squirm.

Your fingers slid through his hair, tugging softly at every caress of his tongue, every time he'd wrap his lips over your clit and suck. Your muscles contracted, abdomen tightening as you fought the overstimulation. You wanted to give in, to give him everything he wanted from you.

But as his eyes met yours, your lips parting to accommodate your heavy breathing, you couldn't wait any longer. Couldn't handle your pussy fluttering with nothing to fill it.

"Please," You whispered, his eyes softening.

Watching his jaw move, his head turn side to side as he gorged himself on your juices, your voice broke with a whimper, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

"I need you," You said, lifting to your elbows. "Need to feel you inside me."

He sat up slowly, kneeling between your thighs. His lips were glistening with your arousal, chest wet from your cum seeping down toward the bed. You reached out to feel him, to run your fingers down his chest and torso. He shut his eyes briefly, nostrils flaring as he regained his breath and enjoyed your soft hands over his body.

Your eyes scanned his abdomen, drawn to the scars that littered it. It magnified your desire, your lust, the battle scars were an implication of survival, war. It was primal, the reminder that he was a man's man, ready to take all of you in one fell swoop.

"Say it again," He breathed, his hands still grasping your thighs.

"I need you inside me, Simon," You said, unabashed, free of any inhibitions.

"Yeah?" There was an inflection of mockery in his tone, but you ate up every bit of it. "Need my cock, don't you?"

"Yes, baby- I need you, need your cock." You were delirious with lust, whining and begging beneath him.

"That's what I like to hear," He nearly grinned. "Only I can fuck you how you need, ain't that right, sweetheart?"

You felt your pussy flutter again, mindlessly nodding as his hands rubbed up and down your legs.

"Please," You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, teeth biting down to distract from the jittery feeling inside you.

"Fuck," He cursed, leaning over you. "You make my cock hard, love."

You took his face in your hands, pulling him down to meet your lips. You devoured him, devoured the taste of yourself on his lips and tongue. Mostly bitter, a hint of sweetness, and the still remaining flavour of him. It was intoxicating.

He quickly undid his belt, aggressively yanking the buckle from the leather, pulling his briefs down to expose his cock. He ran his hand up and down his length, before pressing the engorged tip to your clit. He teased you with it, applying enough pressure to make your hips twitch. Slowly pushing down, his jaw dropped as your pussy swallowed him, squeezing him into the velvety walls.

A nasally gasp came from the back of his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed his groans.

"This cunt was made just for me."

His lips beside your ear, you could feel the vibration in his voice. The rasp of his tone lavished your skin with goosebumps.

"Only you," You choked down your whimpers, turning your head to meet his gaze.

The first roll of his hips covered his cock in your arousal, the slick juices allowing him to glide deep inside. The depth knocked the wind from your lungs, and your hands clung to his back, nails digging into his muscles.

His pelvis rubbing against your clit, and he lowered himself to press his weight against your body. You welcomed the intrusion, moving a hand to the back of his head, cradling it as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

His lips attached to your throat, feeling the moans and pleas as they passed your larynx. He swallowed them whole, pushing himself deeper, pulling back and repeating to hear the gasps and whimpers from your lips.

"God," You breathed, squeezing down with your muscles as you lurched forward, clinging to his head and shoulders. "So good, Simon. You fuck me so well."

"Bloody hell sweetheart," He grunted with effort. "Tha's 'cause this cunt is mine- all fuckin' mine."

"Shit, Simon," You gasped.

He groaned with approval, continuing his thrusts inside you, his cock grinding into you, massaging your walls.

"Touch yourself," He said, watching you drop your fingers to your clit immediately.

He moaned softly when he felt your pussy clench, and you arched your back for better access as you circled your swollen clit. He shifted upwards, allowing you space while driving his cock inside you.

Your eyes rolled back, choked gasps escaping as you focused on your orgasm, the way his body looked as he thrusted inside you. All muscles, flexing, glistening with sweat.

"I'm so close," You whimpered.

It was engulfing your entire body, the pleasure made your toes curl as you squeezed your thighs at his waist, rocking with his movements. You panted against his shoulder, biting softly at the taught muscle, which earned a groan.

"That's it," He whispered, encouraging you closer to your climax. "Cum on my cock sweetheart," He grunted in your ear.

You felt the fluttering of pleasure erupt from your clit, your head falling back to the pillow while you chest lifted to meet his. You pussy squeezed his cock, contracting, as your nerves were lit up with euphoria.

"Fuck," He gasped, his cock tensing as your pussy hugged him tightly.

He watched with bated breath, still as he could be while rolling his hips against yours, not wanting to disturb the sight before him. He consumed your moans, lips against yours in a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing as he bore down, thrusting even harder inside you.

You cried out, choking on your moans. He found satisfaction in breaking you down, watching you come undone on his cock, knowing no other man would ever see you the way he did, do what he did to you.

"'M gonna cum in this cunt," He panted.

"Cum in me, please," You were near tears, pussy beginning to feel raw from the amount of friction you'd experienced already. "Give me your cum."

"Take it, sweetheart- every fuckin' drop," He grunted as his pace slowed, hips jerking sporadically against yours as he began to release inside you.

He watched your pussy drain him, your cum around the base of his cock, white, creamy- it made him shiver.

He enjoyed the warmth of your pussy for a few moments, before pulling out with a cringe. He was overstimulated, but watching his cum begin to seep out of you mesmerized him. A true mark of his possession- the fleeting idea that it would take, and you'd be all his, carrying his child.

He knew it was a ruse, a dream spurred by testosterone and dopamine, but the thought clung to his mind for a while after- shamefully so. He never imagined himself as a father, never had the desire to bring anything similar to himself or his bloodline into the world. But as he looked over your spent form, your hands reaching for him, his bringing you into his chest, he wondered if it would be so terrible to have something that was also half of you.

You looked up at him with tired eyes, pieces of hair clinging to the sweat on your brow, lips red and puffy with irritation. You smiled softly, leaning up to kiss him, a delicate offering. He accepted with no hesitation, like it was second nature. And maybe it was. You'd more than earned his trust; maybe he could learn to ignore his instincts and give you all of him. You deserved it, he decided.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #strlingsavwrites

[strlingsav]

Dark

– Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

— You're afraid of the dark.

Warnings: Mentions of panic-attacks, hyperventilating. Explicit/potentially triggering content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

The lantern beside you flickered, a deep buzz plateauing before it shut off completely, enveloping the barren room in darkness. You were already on edge, in the middle of enemy territory, residing in a run-down safe house.

You flipped over on your makeshift bed- a thermal sheet and wool blanket placed over the floorboards. With a quiet sigh of irritation, you reached your arm out, slamming your hand down on the battery-powered light a few times. It flickered again.

"Don't think that'll help," Ghost's monotone voice cut through the silence.

"Better than nothing," You shot back, eyes focused on the lantern.

You watched as the lantern finally decided against working, and shut off completely. Only the dull light of the moon offered some relief.

"Fuck me," You groaned.

"Shut your eyes," Ghost said gruffly.

You peered over your shoulder at the white skull, about an arm's reach away.

"How's that gonna help if we're ambushed?" You asked, finding his nonchalance frustrating.

"You've got your goggles," He argued.

You were quiet for a moment, deciding whether or not to argue. Panic had nearly set in. Your experiences with the dark, over your entire career, hadn't been kind. Every time, you were brought back to the cold, unwelcoming embrace. The screams, the blood. You recalled the horrifying memories with a shaky sigh, hand coming to your forehead in an attempt to grab some semblance of yourself for reassurance.

"Not good enough," You said finally. "Piece of shit." You grabbed the lantern, throwing it across the room. It landed with a crash, surely damaging something in its wake.

"You afraid of the dark or somethin'?"

"No," You tried to be resolute, firm.

"Sounds like you are."

"Piss off," You replied, letting out a huff.

"There are worse things than the dark."

You knew he was right, knew you were overreacting, but the visceral reaction you felt quickly settling into your body made you think otherwise. Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears, jugular pounding in your throat. You could hear your shaky breaths in the quiet of the air, and knew Ghost could too.

You did shut your eyes, only for a moment, pursing your lips while you let out soft exhales. It was a feeble attempt to calm yourself down, before you were driven over the edge of panic. You'd experienced it before- without interference, it could be ugly. Sweat covering your body, quick, heavy breathing, shaking so hard your body ached, nearly shattering your teeth while clenching your jaw.

Disassociation followed close behind- after that, you drowned in the deep end.

You couldn't count how many times you'd talked yourself down on other missions, but it felt different now- harder to ignore. Maybe it was the idea of humiliating yourself in front of your Lieutenant. In front of Ghost; whose body was so far, yet so close. And ordinarily you'd be equipped to run, to avoid his gaze, shrug from beneath the spotlight. But now, you had no choice, all your cards on the table, vulnerable.

"Still got your eyes open?" He asked.

"Yeah."

Your voice barely trembled, which would go unnoticed by most, but not your lieutenant. Not with his fine-tuned observational skills.

"C'mere," He said quietly.

You swore you felt your heart stop. Ghost, beckoning you to move closer, to lie with him as you fell asleep- the warmth in your stomach interrupted your heavy breathing. You wondered if he knew how you felt, how your blood ran cold whenever he looked at you, touched you, spoke to you. Body devoid of all warmth, aside from the heat settling between your thighs. You didn't know whether he offered for his own safety or yours- or something different altogether.

But as your heart resuscitated itself, you couldn't resist the temptation of moving closer. You wanted the physical contact. Anything to remind you of where you were, and in truth, Ghost's offer was even more enticing because it was him.

There was a history of longing stares, fleeting touches on a shoulder or back between the two of you. You couldn't deny the facts. But those were moments of weakness, derived from being without intimacy for so long. Flirtatious encounters between battle buddies; it happened to everyone.

Did it feel like this for everyone?

"I ain't askin' you to marry me, hurry up." His voice interrupted your overthinking, a twinge of impatience in his voice.

You obliged, moving closer, eyes focusing in on the white of his mask. You felt his large hand grip your arm, turning you over. His heavy arm dragged you in, resting over your waist. You let out a sharp exhale when you felt his chest against your back, the warmth shooting goosebumps all over your body.

You didn't take Ghost for a man with much compassion, empathy. You weren't even sure he truly cared for anyone outside of those he had command over. The moments you shared, you knew were insignificant, or at least you'd convinced yourself they were, but as he squeezed you around the middle- once, then twice, for reassurance- you knew that wasn't possible. It made your heart race.

"Feelin' better?" He asked quietly, his voice in your ear.

"Yeah," You breathed.

A little white lie, told to save face. Now pulled back from the brink, you did feel better. You still couldn't breathe, but that was all Ghost's fault. And you'd never admit to the fondness festering for him in the back of your mind.

"Thanks."

"Been there."

"I'm still working on it," You mumbled.

"Takes practice."

You shut your eyes, trying to drown out the feeling of the weight of his arm around you, the pattern of his breathing in your ear, his chest moving softly against your back.

He shifted, letting out a sigh. You took a deep breath, clearing your mind of all sinful thoughts. You moved, trying to get comfortable on the hard floor.

It was nearly impossible.

You stirred again, finding yourself unable to sleep with Ghost's body against you. The undeniable tension was palpable. With a quick stretch, you tried to snuggle back in under the covers, relishing in the warmth that welcomed you back in.

"Stop movin'," Ghost said, a bite in his tone.

"Sorry," You whispered. "Thought you didn't sleep?" You said.

"It ain't my sleep I'm worried about," He replied gruffly.

You didn't reply, but your eyebrows drew together in confusion. Deciding against pushing for answers, you let out a sigh, relaxing your body. You fell in closer to him, your ass flush with his hips. He grunted softly.

Feeling something against you, your eyes flew open. It had to be his pistol- you tried not to allow yourself to think anything else. Mostly, because you didn't know what you'd do if he was aroused. Maybe nothing- but maybe something. The idea alone set your whole body on fire.

Your throat was dry, body rigid as you weighed the pros and cons in your mind. Maybe it was the delusion of your racing heart and frenzied thoughts, but you felt the desperate urge to feel him. Not a new feeling, but stronger now than it had ever been.

You firmly decided you needed to know. Wanted to know. You couldn't ignore the feelings you had for him, regardless of how badly it could end. The bitter taste of hopeless yearning was getting old. Watching from a distance, his hands ghosting your body at every opportunity. You were tired of being left in the dark.

"Did you put the safety on?" You threw your head back, trying to look at him in the dark.

Your question came across as genuine, an innocent tone in your voice. Regardless of how pathetic you felt asking, you were determined.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"Your pistol," You clarified. "It's still in your holster. Did you put the safety on?" You knew better. You knew it wasn't his gun. You just wanted to hear him say it.

"That ain't my pistol. Like I said, stop movin'," He answered, monotone.

Your eyes widened, the shock of him admitting it rendered you speechless.

"Oh," You said, breathing in deeply.

"Can't blame me," He said. "You're practically ridin' me."

"You offered," You shot back.

"Talkin' about you ridin' me makes it worse."

Your heart raced, his low, raspy voice made your stomach flip. Your mind darted to images of Ghost beneath you, gripping your thighs as you dragged your hips against him, burying his cock inside you. You sighed, trying to cleanse your imagination.

"I'll move over," You answered, reluctant to leave his grasp but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

His hands trapped your waist, tugging you closer.

"Didn't say I didn't like it. I'm alright if you are."

You felt your cheeks flush, body heating up. His statement shot straight to your abdomen, your stomach in knots. Your eyes darted around in the darkness, searching for what to say next.

"It's fine," You replied.

It was more than fine, actually. You felt your womb ignite, burning with desire. Wetness began to gather in your panties, pussy flinching every so often when you rubbed your thighs together.

"You're movin' again," He said.

"I know," You answered. "Can't help it."

He hummed in response. The hand draped over your waist moved up, fingertips tracing the dip between your ribs and your hips. You shut your eyes, savouring the way his calloused hands felt against the soft skin of your torso. He was moving at a torturously slow pace, fingers seemingly caressing whatever part of you was accessible.

"Ghost," You whispered, voice quiet, laced with pleasure and impatience as you urged him to touch you. You finally had your answer, closure, at last. You weren't going to waste it.

Unexpectedly, his hand drove up your shirt, meeting your bare skin. Surprised, he grunted in approval. His warm hands reached further up, cupping your breasts. His fingers brushed over your nipples, erect from the cold. The smallest bit of relief washed through you at his touch, finally seeing a small glimpse of pleasure. You sighed, his touch rousing the desire in your abdomen. You needed him elsewhere.

You gripped his forearm, pulling it from your shirt before gliding his hand along your stomach, to slip down past your pants waistband. His fingers crawled from your pelvis to your core, feeling the wet patch on the seat of your panties. He groaned softly, almost silently, rubbing your pussy through your panties.

"You're soaked," He said in your ear. "Barely even touched you yet, love."

You didn't answer, only shifting your hips to entice him, begging silently for his fingers to move more.

"Please," You whispered, head turning to meet his gaze.

He let out a soft breath, his middle finger pressing against your clit from over your panties. You breathed out in frustration, body writhing under the light pressure. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough. You wrapped an arm around his neck, pushing your hips into his fingers.

"Bloody fuckin' hell," He grunted, his eye contact unwavering as he watched you ride against his fingers.

He seemed to be motivated by your actions, and gently pulled your panties aside. Running a finger up and down your pussy, he groaned as the wetness spread between your folds. You gasped softly, goosebumps spreading across your body when the pad of his finger hit your clit.

"Fuckin' sight you are, sweetheart," He whispered, lips finding your throat.

You moaned even more now, as he added another finger to run circles over your clit, and kissed the soft skin of your neck.

"Yes, Ghost," You whimpered, the hand around his neck grabbing at his balaclava.

You could hear the wetness between your thighs, vulgar and loud as Ghost worked his fingers against you.

"Take 'em off," He ordered.

Pulling his hand from your panties, he undressed himself while you stripped out of your shirt and pants, panties around one ankle.

Suddenly, the lantern exploded with light, illuminating the small room. You watched Ghost's eyes, trailing over your naked form, half covered with the thin blanket. Your hand between your thighs, the other over your breasts, attempting to cover yourself.

His gaze flipped to your eyes, licking his lips when he found you, cheeks flushed, eyes half-open, hair strewn on the blanket beneath you.

"Christ," He whispered.

You took your time running your eyes over his body; large biceps, abs that flexed every time he moved, his pecs. The muscles that ran down his torso were magnetic, drawing your eyes in. His body glistened with a thin layer of sweat, tattoos highlighted against his skin. You pulled your lip between your teeth, pussy now aching for him.

"Please, touch me," You said, barely above a whisper.

He didn't waste any time, his hand running down your body to the familiar crease of your pussy. Fingers continued where they left off, but shortly after, he slid a finger into you. You arched your back off the ground, turning your head to lock eyes with him. Your lips parted as you panted.

"Pussy is so tight," He said, through strangled breaths. "So fuckin' wet, sweetheart."

His long finger was able to reach the sweet spot inside you, curling them gently to simulate you further. He added a second finger, watching you writhe on his palm. The calloused part of his palm rubbed against your clit, and you couldn't help the airy moans that left your lips.

"Oh God- Ghost," You cried, your abdomen tightening with every movement.

"Say my name sweetheart," He goaded. "My real name. Y'know it," His other hand reached up, lifting his balaclava up past his lips.

He craned his neck to run his tongue over your nipple, taking the soft flesh between his teeth and tugging softly.

"Simon," You said, a whimper in your voice as you began to come undone.

"Cum on my fingers, F/N."

You were riding his palm at this point, calves aching as you flexed them, thighs burning. Your stomach and hips tensed, your body enveloped in a rigid stance before your climax erupted. You let go, your muscles relaxing as you came over his hand. The back of your hand lifted to your lips, biting the skin as you indulged the remaining traces of your orgasm.

"Atta girl," He whispered, lifting his head to press his lips against yours.

You were still panting, but allowed him to run his tongue along yours. You breathed into his lips, nose exhaling against his face. You savoured the warmth his tongue offered, biting at his bottom lip.

Teeth clashed together, your kisses were sloppy, still reeling from your orgasm. Your body was desperate to feel the rest of him. Your hands ran down the back of his neck, then flat over his chest. He groaned with approval, the way your soft hands felt against his body was euphoric.

His fingers left your pussy, and when he lifted them, your face burned. Sticky juices coated his fingers, stringing between his fingers.

"Jesus Christ," He groaned.

He knelt between your thighs, kissing your lips again before he left a trail of soft, wet kisses down to your pelvis, thighs shaking as he parted them. He made himself comfortable, his tongue suddenly pressing against your clit. His first moan, loud, as he tasted you, then his second as your pussy clenched around his tongue diving inside you.

You were still sensitive from your orgasm, unable to sit still as he devoured you. His hands were pressing against your hips bones as he kept you locked under his grip.

He moaned, lifting his gaze to watch you. "Pussy tastes so fuckin' good."

You shivered, shutting your eyes as your hand ran through your hair. Your other hand fondled your breasts, teasingly tugging at your nipples.

"Do that again," He demanded.

You obeyed, gently rolling your nipples between your fingers. He moaned against your pussy, and the vibration lit a fuse up your spine. As he kissed and sucked at your clit, you felt another climax build. You were inconsolable, shivering under his touch as he stimulated your clit. It didn't take long before you came again, thighs clamping around his head, thrusting yourself against his mouth.

You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth, hands roaming your body.

He sat up, kissing your lips softly before he let his hand run up and down his cock. Your eyes shifted to see him, and his impressive length. Your eyes widened when you really took in his size.

"Think you can take it, sweetheart?" He asked, hips jutting into his hand.

"Yes," You nodded, biting down on your lip.

"Turn over," He said, watching you as he massaged his cock.

You obliged, rolling onto your stomach. You crossed your arms under your head, letting your cheek rest on your forearms. Arching your back, you got on your knees.

His hands gripped your ass, roughly grasping the soft, supple flesh in his hands. You could hear his breathing, fast and loud. He spread your pussy, cock pressing against your entrance. He took his time, introducing his cock slowly.

Soon, he was buried inside you, head thrown back as he savoured the way your pussy felt around him; slick, nearly dripping, hugging him tightly. The angle was nearly torture, so deep, so full, it knocked the air from your lungs.

"Shit, Simon," You croaked out, lifting your head to see him.

"You feel so good, love," He said, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder, teeth biting gently into your skin.

Shivering, you moaned into your arms, biting down as he began to move. His hips hit your ass, cock massaging your walls as he ground his pelvis into you. You couldn't help but clench down, desperate to feel him even more. Your breaths became faster, whimpering as his cock filled you, kissing your cervix just enough to make your body twitch.

His hands came down, landing on either side of you. You could feel his pants from above you. You looked up, eyes meeting as he thrusted into you. He nearly broke watching you move with his thrusts, lips parted with pleasure, nails scraping against your own skin.

One of his hands came up to grip your throat, keeping your eyes where they were while he fucked you. He enjoyed watching you, but wanted to make you feel good.

"Ah, shit," He exclaimed, his other hand slapping your ass.

You gasped, letting your hips thrust back.

"That's right sweetheart," He grunted. "So fuckin' good."

You could hardly breathe, his grip on your throat cutting off most of your oxygen. You didn't mind however, as his gaze was locked on yours, unflinching. It turned you on even more, giving you the push you needed.

"Let me ride you," You said, breathless.

His pace slowed, and he pulled out, grabbing your waist as he laid down. Your thighs spread to land on either side of him, catching your breath as you got yourself situated.

You sat up, pushing his cock back. He took himself in his hand, finding your entrance and helping you slide down onto him.

Your head fell back, sitting still on his cock. Your hips moved back and forth, wanting him as deep as he could get.

"So beautiful," He whispered, his hands sitting on your waist.

You hadn't the mind to answer, only beginning to move your hips forward. He tensed, his head falling back on the floor when you rolled your hips. It wasn't enough, however, and you wanted to feel him, stretching you out.

You lifted your ass up, gliding back down on him. You did this over and over again, until your rhythm settled and you found yourself gasping for air.

His hands flew up to your breasts, moving to your waist, fingers landing on your clit as you bounced on his cock.

"God, love, thas' it, ride this fuckin' cock," He said through his clenched jaw.

His large hand enveloped your ass, helping you up and down as his fingers worked back and forth on your clit. You were breathless, moaning shamelessly as you felt another orgasm working it's way through your abdomen.

"Cum on my cock," He groaned. "Wanna feel this pussy cum on my cock."

You gasped, your hands planting on his chest as your thighs and ass flexed, giving you the extra leverage to take him deep inside. You choked back a sob, your orgasm ripping through you, letting out a loud moan as your body continued to ride him.

Your orgasm wasn't quite finished when he sat up, his hands gripping your waist. He thrusted up into you, his eyes watching you as tears gathered in your eyes. Your body betrayed you, and you grasped his shoulders, trying your best to grind your hips against him.

"'M close, sweetheart," He whimpered. "Where do you want it?"

You shivered, feeling nothing but pure desire.

"Inside me," You breathed. "Cum inside me, Simon."

He groaned, leaning forward to press his lips against yours. His hips faltered, and he moaned quietly into the kiss, fingers bruising your waist as he buried his cum deep inside you.

You shivered again, sitting still for a moment while he recovered from his climax.

"Christ," He whispered.

"Yeah," You said back, with a huff.

You didn't notice when the lantern flickered off again, Ghost wrapping his arm around your waist, flush with your body. His large hand engulfed your breasts, and he couldn't possibly be closer if he tried- he liked it that way. And so did you.

Moments passed, finally finding warmth and comfort. You were so close to sleep, your body relaxed against his.

"Dark's not so bad, is it?" He asked, the timbre of his voice stirring you from your drowsy state.

You cracked a smile.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #strlingsavwrites

[strlingsav]

Drive: Four

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Requested: @sarcanti 🫶🏻

For this anon too since it's pretty much the same thing!!

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Sipping intermittently from your room-temperature drink, your eyes reached Ghost's across from you. He was settled on a bar stool, watching you as you leaned against the bar, trying to avoid his penetrating gaze.

Music hummed from the speakers, a loud buzz inside the bar as it began to fill. It was late- dark and cool, nearing midnight without a shortage of people filtering in.

The two of you were content in your own world, hardly paying much attention to the conversation beside you; idle chatter from Soap and Gaz and a few other men you vaguely recognized from previous deployments.

Your leave was almost over; a few more days and you'd be back to base, far away from the cycle of unfamiliar habits. You missed the routine, knowing exactly what to expect day-after-day, but a break from the organized chaos and a little bit of freedom was enjoyable.

Simon opted to stay with you- a decision you'd not expected from him, brought up after he complained of having to stay in his own 'lonely flat'.

You'd meant it as a joke, an offer thrown into the air with no strings attached. It was another step toward something more serious than you were sure he was ready for, maybe more than you were ready for.

A nonchalant 'alright' was all he'd said, before he packed his bags and drove the two of you there.

In an effort to contain the growing relationship between you, you maintained that you were spending your leave with family. Your squad-mates were entirely unaware that the two of you were sharing your apartment, and you desperately wanted to keep it that way; you stayed light on alcohol to avoid any drunken confessions.

The bar was grimy and sticky, smelling like an ash tray and spilled beer, but it was comfortable. No obligations, no expectations- only Simon's blackened eyes undressing you from across the bar.

You were flustered, reasonably so, thighs squeezing together with the imagery of his long fingers gripping your waist instead of the glass in his hands. You broke eye contact, moving your attention to Johnny who'd been chatting away the entire time before it became obvious you were fantasizing about him.

You liked to keep your personal life private, especially from coworkers, even before yourself and Simon founded your new situation, if it were to be called anything. You liked things that way, and it came with an added bonus; no one ever pried.

It made your secret affair a bit easier to keep secret. The only downfall being that with the eyes of your teammates watching every move, there was no palpable excuse as to why the stranger across the bar couldn't buy you a drink.

You could've lied, said you were married or seeing someone, but it would've created another layer of secrets you'd have to remember to keep. So, you sucked in a sharp breath, smiled politely and nodded curtly as he slid onto the seat beside you and handed you a beer.

Simon watched the entire exchange. His rationale had nearly all but gone, mostly replaced by a stinging sensation in his chest that threatened his temper. Even as your eyes met his across the table, and he could see the nervous smile on your lips, he felt nothing but betrayal.

You could feel the warmth radiating off of him. His eyes had finally left yours and were honed in on the smiling stranger leaning in close, brushing your arm with his. It made you cringe to imagine how it made him feel- Simon already had a bad temper, inexplicably enraged by the smallest things, and this man coiling himself around you was sure to make him combust.

You sneaked a glance up, your eyes meeting, offering an apologetic expression. It didn't seem to have the intended effect, as Simon stood from his seat, pushing off without a word.

"Where're you off to?" Johnny spoke up, catching Simon before he could slink away.

"Gotta piss," He muttered.

You watched his shoulders sway as he sauntered to the washrooms, an overwhelming amount of guilt settling in your gut.

You made polite conversation, but your body was stiff as a board. It was difficult to allow yourself to play into the charade of interest, especially with the man you truly cared about fuming just metres away.

Simon had reappeared, finding the man with his hand on your waist, his body caging you off from everything and everyone else. He couldn't handle it- watching the exchange made his stomach churn, his chest tighten with anger. He abruptly left his seat, lunging for the exit.

You cleared your throat, throwing back the final sip of beer before turning to the stranger with a meek smile.

"Thanks for the drink. I've got to get heading out, though," You mumbled, your attention focused on Simon.

You offered a short goodbye to Johnny and Kyle, who seemed just as perplexed by your quick escape, before sliding from your standing position. The stranger didn't have a chance to reply; you were dead-set on the exit, hurriedly walking out to escape the clutches of his unwanted advances.

You found Simon leaning against the rough brick of the building, a lit cigarette lighting up the outline of his lips.

You wanted to blurt out, 'I'm sorry', but a trickle of resentment- and pettiness- made its way to your thoughts before that- you hadn't had the conversation yet. Maybe you never would.

You knew your situation was wrong, entirely wrong, and illegal- but the part of you that hadn't yet become numb to normal interactions wondered if that was what he even wanted; if he wanted only you.

"You done with your li'l show?" He asked, nonchalant, uncaring, but it had a bite to it.

"My show?" You repeated, watching him stand to his full height as he scuffed out the cigarette.

"With that bloke," He nodded his head, gesturing to the bar. "Lettin' him buy you a drink, touch you." His tone was venomous, accusatory- and you hated it.

"What was I supposed to do?" You scoffed.

"You've got a mouth, haven't you?" He was stepping toward you.

"That's not fair," You said, tilting your head. "People were watching."

Your voice faltered as he closed in on you, your eyes meeting his and finding the glazed-over expression of pure anger in his gaze. It made you feel guilty; maybe not irrationally so, but guilty nonetheless.

You wanted to go home, wanted to forget how you made him feel, forget how guilty your conscience was even when the stipulations of your situation weren't clear.

You turned on your heel, heading toward the parking lot at a leisurely pace, hoping he'd catch on that you wanted to drop it and go home.

"You want fuckin' fair?" He called, quickly catching up to you with fewer strides, slowing as he watched you pull the door of his truck open. "I ain't the one bein' felt up right in-fuckin'-front o'you." His hand reached the side of his truck.

You exhaled sharply, before turning to face him. Your glare was suffocating, standing to your tallest height as you furrowed your brows. He had cornered you against the truck, scowling down at you, though your expression could more than contend with his.

"You haven't asked me not to fuck or see other people," You threw your hands up, continuing before he could interrupt you. "Maybe if you had, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

There was silence for only a few beats, before he moved even closer. You knew it wasn't entirely true- neither of you had made the effort to discuss where exactly you were headed. Your flustered judgement got the better of you.

"You been fuckin' other blokes?" He asked, suddenly stepping closer, his voice quivering ever-so slightly. It wasn't sadness in his tone, it was jealousy, anger.

You tilted your head, nearly astonished by his ability to avoid the most prevalent argument in your statement. Regardless- it wasn't entirely the lack of commitment that lead you to accepting the strangers advances, it was the presence of your squad mates. Nonetheless, you'd honed-in on his noncommittal attitude and had no patience for hypocrisy.

"You expect me to believe you haven't been sleeping with other people?" You shot back, watching his eyes dart back and forth between yours.

You held your breath, subconsciously; you knew the answer you wanted- you wanted him to tell you it was special. You were special- but your Lieutenant wasn't that kind of man.

"Yeah," He answered, deadpanned and stern. "'Cause I haven't." He leaned in even closer, nearly nose to nose as he shrunk himself down to your face. "Answer my fuckin' question."

You gave a harsh no, hidden behind gritted teeth and tight lips. He was shrouded by anger, and instead he spoke over you, pupils expanding in the darkness, redness pooling in his neck and chest.

"Got me on a fuckin' leash while you're out shaggin' other people," He spat.

"I haven't slept with anyone else," You said. "But if you don't want to be tied down, you've always been free to leave." Your hands flailed as you fought back the tears welling in your eyes.

It had been a while since you'd been close to tears; especially because of a man. The familiar sting in your eyes, the lump growing in your throat. You'd had little expectation that Simon would be much different from others before him, and a part of you hoped otherwise, but it still caught you off-guard.

He straightened his back, still caging you in behind his arm. He released a quiet breath, his shoulders dropping as he took a moment to process the conversation.

"Didn't say that," He uttered, reeking of nonchalance, and a hint of surrender.

"You did," You said. "If it's how you feel, maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore." Your gaze pored into his, unbreaking and persistent.

Your vision was blurrier than before, your voice threatening to waiver, crack, but your composure was held together by the pitiful hope that he'd do what you wanted- what you needed.

He retracted his hand, idling awkwardly while he searched his mind for a response. You watched his eyes dart from yours, cogs turning.

"That what you want?"

Your brows furrowed. "No."

He was quiet again- a common reoccurrence but not usually with you. He had his moments of silence, though his stone-like stance put you off. The calloused part of you had already begun to wall-off the the feelings you'd since developed for him, blinking away the tears gathering in your eyes and clearing your throat.

Sudden chatter outside the bar alerted you both, remembering that inside were the coworkers you'd been trying to avoid. Simon cleared his throat, standing up straight.

"Get in," He muttered, holding the door as you slowly turned to jump into his truck.

Once settled beside you, he turned the truck over, heading for your apartment. There was more silence- hardly even the sound of breathing. He didn't look your way, or rest his hand on your thigh, and a part of you took it as a premonition for the difficult conversation to come.

You'd poured a glass of wine by the time he returned from your room- dressed in only his sweatpants, void of his mask; vulnerable. You stood at the counter's edge, taking a slow sip to avoid speaking while he stared at you.

There was only the sound of deep breaths, a stalemate while you locked eyes. Simon knew he'd crumble- you'd grown too valuable to let slip away- but not without delving into the evening's events.

You sighed as he neared, wandering almost aimlessly through your apartment. Your shoulders collapsed in defeat; growing tired of the silent war waging itself between you.

"What are we doing? Where is this going?" You sighed, catching his eyes as you looked up.

As badly as you wanted to fix the anger and frustration brewing beneath your skin, you knew it would take a lot- maybe more than he'd give. You'd known from the start he wasn't like usual men, and you didn't expect him to be, but the issue at hand was starting to snowball.

"Whad'you want? You want a ring? A kid?" He tilted his head, chest expanding as he neared the kitchen island.

You shook your head, ignoring the mockery in his tone, "I need to know you want me. Only me. Even just for now, not forever. But if not-" Your lips rubbed together. "I can't keep risking my job for something going nowhere."

"My arse has been on the line too," He reminded you, his hand finding the counter. "A lifetime's worth of hard work and shite I ain't proud of- threatened by you. I wouldn't've bothered with any of it if I didn't want you."

"That's not what I meant," You tilted your head, examining his eyes. "I appreciate the risks of our situation-"

"I don't think you do," He moved even closer. "I'm riskin' everything just by bein' here. That ain't an answer for you? Doesn't tell you how fuckin' much I want you?" His breaths were heavy once he'd finished his sentence.

You blinked- shocked by the unexpected passion coming from a man whose stoicism was unmatched by anyone you'd ever known.

He set his jaw, working up the courage to solidify what you wanted desperately to hear. It was like he was choking for air, his chest tight, deeply afraid to offer his trust and commitment, aloud, without something tangible to prove you'd reciprocate it.

His jaw clenched again, his eyes flickering between yours, deciding once and for all that he'd without-a-doubt take what you'd offer without a second thought, even if he had to lay his peace of mind on the line.

"'M with you. Only want you." He stared at you, moving closer. "Don't want anyone else havin' you, either. Call it whatever you like but I ain't been subtle about it."

His words melted away the grudge you'd been holding, finding solace in his words. You had no intention of holding on to anger, especially not as he peeled back the layers of armour protecting him from being hurt. Your lips pursed, biting your lip before meeting his eyes.

"I feel the same," You answered, nodding firmly, meeting his eyes. There was a brief pause, preparing yourself to offer your commitment. "I should've said so sooner, but I only want you, Simon." Your words softened, melting slowly into his ears before settling in his stomach with weight and warmth.

It was so genuine, so utterly vulnerable he was nearly overwhelmed. For a moment, he almost forgot how poorly it could end. It was just the two of you; two people in a normal, mundane relationship, in the dim light of your kitchen, exchanging a stare that dared to pull you into an alternate universe where you didn't have to worry.

He hummed softly- a surrender. He gently, almost begrudgingly, pulled you into him by the fabric of your shirt, a soft kiss against your lips that was like sealing a deal- an exchange of commitment.

Still a bit irritated at your lack of observation, he threatened to pull away. Before he could, you teetered on your toes, moving to drape your arms around his shoulders as he wrapped an arm around your waist. You held him close, pressed against your body as you reconnected your lips.

"I'm sorry," You whispered. "I should've known better."

When he hummed in response, you kissed his lips again. He was stiff against you, though you felt him relax into your touch while you spoke in his ear.

"I'm glad you're here. Happy you're here."

His eyes searched yours for a moment, before he pulled you in by your waist, his lips engulfing yours with warmth and wetness.

You hummed softly, leaning into his touch, standing taller to press your lips against his. You exhaled softly as he slid his tongue against yours, parting your lips with force.

His warm, strong hands tugged you closer, hand moving to hold the side of your face as he guided you against his lips.

He grunted as he lifted you to his hips, large palms and fingers digging into the back of your thighs. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as he began heading for your room; you kept your arms tangled in the short hair on the nape of his neck.

He sat down, your thighs landing on either side of his as you straddled his lap. You pulled your shirt over your head, breathless and rushed, before pulling him back in. His lips fit perfectly together with yours, his tongue sliding between your lips to collide with yours.

His hand clung tightly to your waist, while his other dipped beneath your waistband and panties, gently finding his way over your clit. Rough fingertips traced it softly, a jolt running up your back at the sudden pressure.

"Simon," Yoir voice was airy and desperate, your hands grabbing pulling him closer.

He grunted in response, hardly recognizing his name from your needy mouth, and instead was focused on how soft and wet you were, his warm lips making contact with your neck.

You moaned, cradling his head as he nipped and licked, biting softly at your neck, the cool air of the room bringing goosebumps to the surface of your skin. You writhed against him, your thighs squeezing his between them, trying to stay still while his hand explored the flesh of your pussy.

Your soft moans were muffled by his neck, panting quietly into his skin as your fingers grasped at his back. Your lips made contact with his neck, sloppy and haphazard, making your way to the sharp crease of his jaw before finding his lips. He couldn't help but press into you, grind his already-hard cock against you, finding some measure of relief and pleasure.

"Doin' my fuckin' head in, you know that?" He breathed, warm breath against your neck that made you shiver.

A subtle nod between soft moans was accompanied by a meek and stubborn, "Yeah. I'm sorry."

His hand slipped from your pants, reaching for his sweats as he began to slide them down his hips.

You stood from his lap, slowly pulling your jeans down your thighs until they pooled on the floor, nudging them with your foot before dropping to your knees. You inched forward, your eyes meeting Simon's with an apologetic look- one that intrigued him as much as it turned him on.

"Go on," He nodded. "Let's see how sorry you are."

Your cheeks flushed as his hand came to your cheek, following your lead as your lips puckered around the tip of his cock. He nearly shivered- each time was like the first all over again, unable to overcome the feelings of pure lust when he watched you on your knees.

Your lips wrapping around his cock, eyes locking with his when you'd take him deeper into your throat. The feeling of your throat closing when you'd gag on his dick made him grunt quietly and subconsciously grab a fistful of your hair while he resisted the urge to fuck your throat until you couldn't breathe.

He liked watching you struggle to take it all- the desperation to please in your eyes, the shift in your hips to ease the growing discomfort of your swollen, almost sore, clit. He'd take care of it- always did, always would.

He'd close his eyes only momentarily to listen to your mouth; sloppy sounds of saliva and sucking in sharp breaths. He preferred watching, though, especially when your eyes began to water, your nose began to run, and you'd be sliding your hand up and down his cock to ease the pain in your jaw.

You met his gaze again- eyes half-shut, cheeks flushed, his hand on the back of your head as he guided your lips up and down his cock.

"That's good," He muttered, "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart."

Your heart would race when he praised you, soft murmurs of thanks that vibrated against his cock. He grinned momentarily while you tried to talk with a mouthful of his cock.

"Come 'ere," He leaned back. "Come sit on it, love."

You stood, allowing him to guide your hips over his lap, his eyes settled on yours as he helped you slowly take every inch. Your mouth fell open with disbelief- your lubricated walls drew him in without resistance, his calloused hands on your waist helping to lower you down.

"Right there," He muttered, finally exhaling as your bodies were flush together. "Good fuckin' girl."

Sitting up straight, his hand moved around to grab a handful of your ass, suddenly pulling you forward. A sharp gasp left your lips, falling into his chest with your palms.

You couldn't resist, regardless of how sore your hips were, stretched out from the position, your thighs aching; you rolled your hips forward, a shiver and quiet moan of satisfaction coming from your lungs.

Your arms draped around his shoulders, enthusiastically grinding your hips against his, slowly rising up and lowering yourself to feel his cock push back up inside you. Your soft pants hit his ear, warm breath bringing goosebumps to the surface of his skin.

He pulled you close, his own quiet grunts could be heard in the quiet of your room, especially as your pace sped up. His fingers would squeeze your waist and ass, gripping tightly so you wouldn't stop.

"How's it feel?" He asked, turning his head to watch your lips part with a deep moan. "You like ridin' my cock, don't you, sweetheart?"

"Yes," You mumbled. "Yes- fuck, please touch me," you whispered against his neck, your body hunching over his.

His spread his thighs, his fingers finding your clit as you continued to bring yourself up and down on his cock. Your head fell back, fingernails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, eyes squeezing shut.

Encircling your clit, his touch, combined with his girth sliding in and out, was more than enough to have your stomach tightening. Your moans had turned to choked gasps for air as you neared your climax, strong fingers still keeping their pace on your clit, black eyes watching you fall apart on his cock.

You froze, squeezing his cock as you came, harsh waves of pleasure that made you shudder. He sounded strained, holding in every sound that threatened to spill while your pussy clenched around him.

Rather than waiting for you to gather your composure, he lifted his hips up and began thrusting into you. It was slow at first, quickly turning needy and desperate when he saw the sweat on your brow, and disheveled expression.

"Fuck," He grunted. "Will y'let me cum in you?"

You nodded, too dazed for words, and his own anticipation got the better of him.

"Oughta get you pregnant," He huffed. His hand trailed up your waist, to gather your hair in his fist and pull. "You want it? Wanna be all fuckin' mine, don't you?"

You nearly sobbed, a quiet cry leaving your lips when his grip on your hair tightened and he forced your hips forward to meet his.

"I'm all yours," You answered, nearly all air, breathless amidst his chase for orgasm. "All yours, Simon."

Your words pushed him over the edge, a crippling hold on your waist holding you in place as he thrusted a few more times, forcefully. A low growl against your ear as he came inside you made you shiver, especially as his warm cum filled you.

"All mine, yeah?" He said, his breathing heavy.

You nodded against the side of his head, exhaling harshly.

You couldn't help but feel conflicted at the bittersweet revelation. You were his- entirely, but decades of playing pretend was not what you'd expected for yourself. You fell into him, ignoring the gnawing in your gut and pretending that the reality you'd created for yourselves was forever.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mwii #ghost smut #mwii #simon riley #simon riley smut #strlingsavwrites #drive series

[strlingsav]

hi! i see ur requests are closed so u can let this sit in ur inbox until they open up, i just wanted to say this before i forgot lol. could u maybe do something along the lines with simon and reader and she ends up accidentally spilling that nobody could ever make her cum before, and he takes action (hehe💋)

Hii!! It would be my pleasure 😇

Firsts

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Simon's the first to please you.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

You'd yet to confess your feelings of attraction and deep-rooted desire to Simon. It weighed heavily in every limb, sinking to the depths of your stomach with a searing heat anytime you'd cross paths. It seemed to intertwine itself in your mind, unable to focus on anything else when Simon was in your vicinity.

When you'd met him, he terrified you- a chilling stare and body built for violence- but then you'd heard him speak. The buttery tone of his deep voice, encompassed by his gruff accent; it made your innards flutter.

Most found him to be blunt, harsh, even a bit of an asshole- whether it was delusion or lust, you didn't see any of it. He was kind, maybe a bit aloof, but his eyes softened when he looked at you, his shoulders relaxing when he heard your voice.

It wasn't difficult by any means to fall into the waves of longing that tugged you under. It was far too easy, and proved to be inconvenient when you tried to hold a conversation- your cheeks filled with blistering heat, seemingly weighing more than usual, your stomach flipping before uprighting itself when you'd retreat to safety.

Simon, lacking social know-how and tact, had a bit of trouble spotting a crush when it was staring him in the face. He had an inkling- a spark that fizzled out quickly due to his own deduction, but he hadn't shown a speck of suspicion. In fact, his behaviour hadn't changed since meeting you- save for a few moments he kept to himself when he stared at you from across the canteen.

He liked indulging the pleasing view of your face, your body; it wouldn't hurt anyone that didn't know. He couldn't help his gaze, slowly drifting to you, drawn to you, as if you were all that existed.

He admired you- if not for your personality, for the appearance you displayed to the world. Your physical appearance drew testosterone from the depths of his body to the surface. It would strike a match that lit up into jealousy when you showed any attention to male colleagues; whether possession or attraction, Simon couldn't tell the difference.

You were interesting, intriguing; something not yet stained by the gunpowder and blood of his life. You were pure, unencumbered by anything other than the regular trivialities of everyday normalcy. It captivated his attention.

Regardless of the unknown, yet requited, feelings brewing between you, it sat heavy in the air, stagnant, still, untouched. You were becoming tired of hopeless yearning, and the uncertainty that came with it, but had no inclination to act on any of it. There was no more you could do but to watch, and wait.

Simon perched over his drink beside you, already a few in, though no different to his usual demeanour. You, on the other hand, didn't have the years of experience with holding your liquor, and it had begun to show. Simon noticed you weren't entirely sober- you were touchy, more brazen than usual.

Any excuse to graze his arm, feel the heat of his body beneath your fingertips, you took. He didn't seem to mind- his eyes were locked on your hands as you wrapped one around his forearm. You'd leaned in closer, feigning interest in the ongoing conversation, but your heartbeat in your ears prevented you from paying much attention.

Simon's teammates noticed the interaction- silently pushing the two of you together with smug grins and subtle winks in Simon's direction. Had he really been so oblivious before? Had he not realized you were attracted to him? Wanted to know him? Touch him?

"That's the worst you've ever had?"

Johnny's words stuck out like a red flag, waving in your face- your ears perked up.

"Nothin' like yours," Gaz replied, sipping the blonde ale in front of him.

"Don't think I've ever had a bird fake it," Johnny paused, pursing his lips as he searched his memory.

"Probably have," Gaz nodded, a short chuckle leaving his lips, "Not like she'd tell you."

Johnny's gaze landed on you, a grin forming over his face as he saw the glassy look in your eyes, lazy blinks between subtle hiccups. An idea- one that would potentially open the doors for Simon- popped into his head.

"You ever faked one?" Johnny asked, leaning into the table.

You furrowed your brows, your lips parting in confusion.

"Faked what?" Your eyes darted between Johnny and Gaz, before looking up at Simon briefly.

He was watching intently, peering down at you from behind the stained and battered mask. He wore no discernible expression, at least not in his eyes, though his heart had begun to speed up as Johnny phrased his question to you.

"An orgasm," Johnny said, locking eyes with you as he sipped from his glass.

You shut your eyes, reminiscing on the past sexual experiences you'd had with a heavy sigh. You'd faked more than a few- not for your own benefit, and regretfully so. You contemplated revealing the embarrassing truth for a moment, weighing the risks, but ultimately you couldn't hide behind a lie- it was written on your face.

Your cheeks were already flushed with heat, but the personal question triggered the same response in every limb. You exhaled, avoiding Simon's gaze as you nodded.

"I've faked it a few times," You blurted, your eyes snapping open. "No one's ever made me orgasm before."

The men before you looked shocked- as if it were unheard of.

"Never?" Johnny asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

You shook your head, clearing your throat. It was uncomfortable being the centre of attention, especially during such a sensitive debate.

"That's bloody terrible," Gaz huffed, sitting back.

You shrugged softly, sipping your beer. "More common than you think."

Simon's eyes hadn't left you. He was busy, too busy imagining the assholes you'd slept with before, who hadn't made your thighs shake, your face wet with tears, your pussy sore and sensitive.

It provoked another confusing bout of jealousy and anger inside him, something he itched to resolve. It nearly burst from his chest, but he contained himself- not without the discomfort he'd created whilst imagining the expressions you'd make when he'd slide inside you.

The evening came to a close, laxity and lazy grins as you bid goodnight to Simon's teammates. The two of you sat alone, under the dim, yellowed light, Simon's heavy, daunting gaze reminding you of the shameful secret you let loose at the table.

It was uncomfortably quiet, heartbeats nearly audible as you eyed one another, waiting for anything to come along and break the silence. More than a few drinks in, his gaze wandering to your chest, your thighs, those sparkling eyes that teased him, he sighed.

"You stayin' here tonight?" He asked, standing to his feet.

You swallowed, your face lifting to find his eyes. You nodded.

"I'll walk you," He said, waiting patiently for you to finally stand and follow.

Your bunk wasn't a far walk- a few turns down empty, dingy hallways and you'd arrived. You wanted to invite him in, to forget about consequences and the fear of rejection settling in your stomach, but you couldn't.

He leaned against the door frame, and as you turned to thank him for walking you back, he leaned in, enough that his voice could be kept low and discreet.

"Was it true?" He asked, his heel squeaking as he moved closer. "No one ever make you cum before?"

Now that he'd truly registered your feelings, or at the very least, attraction, he was emboldened, and dead-set on digging to the truth. Maybe even showing you what an orgasm truly felt like when he was inside you, if you'd let him.

You'd spoken multiple times, shared jokes, felt comfortable enough to greet each other when passing by- but hearing him ask you such a personal question made heat bubble in your abdomen. The words from his lips hung in the air, repeating in your head like a broken record; it sounded alluring, inviting coming from him.

You looked up at him, eyes empty of everything but lust. Your heartbeat thumped against your uvula, ears ringing as he studied your expression.

"It's true," You nodded.

"Shame," He muttered.

Your eyes were drawn to the thickness of his fingers as they spread out over the frame- wide veins stretching the length of his hand, callouses formed along the crest of his palms. Butterflies tickled the lining of your stomach, your lashes fluttering as you met his eyes again.

"Why's that? Aside from the obvious," You offered a sheepish smile, one of discomfort and awkwardness.

"Can't imagine leavin' you unsatisfied."

He gauged your reaction, waiting for rejection or protest of any kind, though your lips were frozen apart, your voice sealed away by utter disbelief.

"Some people aren't as selfless, I guess," You offered, nearly stuttering over your words.

He sat with your answer for a few moments, before lifting his head to stare at you.

"Y'deserve better than that."

He leaned in, stoic and stealth-like, invading your personal space. His hand reached your waist, warmth radiating through his palm, his fingers barely squeezing down. He inched further down, clasping his hand around the meaty flesh of your hip.

Your mouth was agape, watching the scene unfold in front of you within mere moments. He was so close you could smell the tobacco emanating off his equipment. The whites of his eyes stood out against the charcoal paint across his face, with dark irises reflecting the image of you, flustered and frozen.

"Are you suggesting... you'd do better?" You asked, nearly stuttering as you gathered what little composure you had left.

He paused, tilting his head, "Only if you're interested."

Your hands were fumbling together, your body on fire in his grasp. If he were any closer, surely he'd hear the pulse roaring in your throat.

He stared you down, his eyes flickering between yours, waiting with baited breath as you organized your thoughts; the offer was tempting, nearly impossible to reject, but he was intimidating. Regardless of how long you'd been pining after him- intimacy was a daunting thought.

His hand pulled your body in, "You interested?"

On instinct, your hands landed against his armoured chest. Even through the barrier between you, you could feel the heat emanating from his skin. It only reminded you that beneath the equipment and gear was a man- was Simon.

Without a second thought, without the normal reasoning and judgement you usually filtered through, you blurted out a quiet 'yes'. Whether it was the liquor reinforcing your backbone, or the adrenaline in your veins, you followed his lead as he guided you back into your bunk.

His hand shut the door, hardly turning his attention from you before he lifted his mask in order to kiss you- soft, apprehensive, but his hands had landed on your waist and kept you stuck in place in front of him.

You'd met him on your tip-toes, slinging an arm around his neck when the kiss turned from gentle curiosity to pure need. He was generous with tongue, greedy with his hands as he grabbed every part of you he could reach. His hand stretched across your cheek, fumbling slightly as your knees hit the edge of the bed and you crumpled beneath him.

He hovered over you, lavishing your neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses that gave you tingles in your stomach.

"Christ," He groaned, sitting back to lift the vest over his head. His shirt went with it, exposing the carved muscles of his chest and navel that made your thighs squeeze together. "You smell so bloody good," He muttered, returning over you to nuzzle his nose against your jaw. "Always do," He added. "Might just have t' taste you, too."

Your heart leapt at his suggestion, and suddenly you were leaning on your elbows, watching him unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs. His hands guided your thighs over his broad shoulders, sliding calloused palms over the smooth skin of your legs until he was perched right where he wanted to be.

He leaned closer, fleeting kisses against your inner thighs provoking gentle gasps from your chest, and light giggles when he squeezed the fat of your legs. The rough stubble of his jaw rubbed against your thighs as he lifted your panties out of the way, and buried his face against you.

A loud gasp echoed around the room, another following when his tongue slid between your folds, flattening against the silky skin of your pussy. He gave quiet, brief grunts of pleasure, squeezing down harder when his tongue would glide from your hole to your clit.

When his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently while his tongue lapped against it, your hand reached for his head, steadying him against your warm, wet pussy.

"Oh my-" You groaned, guttural and genuine, likely the first you'd experienced of pleasure from a man devouring you. "Simon," You breathed, fingers gripping the fabric of his mask.

He was gentle and yet firm, a technique you'd not experienced before, and it made your stomach clench.

"You like that, sweetheart?" He asked, lifting his head to find your watery eyes and flushed skin. With an enthusiastic nod, he hid a smug grin. "You like when I fuck you with my mouth?" Another enthusiastic nod.

You bit your lip- saving yourself a bit of humility by refusing to moan to his words. Filthy as they were, they didn't compare to the wetness of his tongue flicking over your clit, or his soft lips gently pulling against it.

He continued down the path of success, until you were on the verge, likely longer than he'd expected but his stamina hadn't been affected.

Your thighs and legs twitched with anticipation, tense muscles preparing you for the full-body contractions and overwhelming pleasure- when he stopped. Your back flattened against the mattress, lifting your head out of curiosity.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, chest heaving as you caught your wind.

He loosened the buckle of his belt, dropping his jeans low enough that his cock- hard and throbbing- sprung against his stomach.

"Nothin's wrong," He answered, climbing over you, sliding a hand beneath your head as he situated himself between your thighs. "Just rather feel you cum on my cock," He said.

Your eyes widened as he breached your entrance, his girth stretching your pussy, feeling the plush muscles inside you with closed eyes and a low groan. He exhaled harshly in your ear, a deep shudder that sent shivers down your body.

"Fuckin' hell," He breathed out.

His other hand yanked your thigh to his side, holding you firmly until he could trust you'd keep it there. His first thrust was deep and long, bottoming out inside you, before changing the angle and driving even deeper than before.

His lips, situated beside your ear, released strained exhales and short moans, unable to hide the grunts of exertion and expression of pure pleasure. He had you straddling his body, limbs wrapped around his in an effort to keep you close, plunge his cock deep inside you, where no one had reached before.

Your back had arched against the mattress, and he suddenly sat back to watch you take him. Your half-shut eyes and awe-struck expression only drove him to please you, to see exactly how you looked.

His hands lifted your shirt over your head, large fingers yanking your bra off your chest before he cupped your breasts with calloused hands. Squeezing and teasing, running his hands down your sides as he memorized every curve of your body.

You'd been repeating his name from swollen lips and breathless lungs, gasping and panting while he rutted into you. Your gaze dropped to his hands, and you watched with anticipation as he lifted his thumb to you lips, urging you to take it in your mouth.

"D'you want me to play with you while I fuck you?" He asked. You nodded. "Then get it nice and wet, sweetheart."

You sucked softly, your tongue wetting the pad of his thumb, in turn pulling a low groan from Simon who wanted nothing more than to watch your lips tighten around his finger. He pulled away, a string of saliva following as he dropped his thumb to your clit, rubbing back and forth softly across the sensitive bud.

You gasped softly; your eyes widening at the sensation of his cock gliding in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit. His other hand had found its place on your hip, holding you steady against his side as he rocked his hips, slamming them into the flesh of your thighs.

"Please," You whispered, searching for a coherent sentence, anything to enjoy the relief of your orgasm. "Need to cum," You said.

He grinned, "Go on- squeeze my fuckin' cock, sweetheart," He leaned closer, his eyes poring into yours when your lips parted, your body froze.

The sensation was new, no longer fluttering around nothing, now he was deep inside you, your pussy pulsating around the hard flesh of his cock. It felt better- so much better- than your own fingers.

He didn't relent while you writhed on his cock, not even when your pussy squeezed him so hard he nearly came inside you without a second thought. Instead, he leaned closer to spit on your pussy, rubbing your clit thoroughly while your legs struggled to remain clamped against him.

"Fuck," You choked out, your entire body trapped in a tense, frozen position as your orgasm overtook you. "Shit, Simon."

"You feel so fuckin' good," He grunted, a flash of a grin over his face. "One more- for good measure," He ordered.

Your body was limp, though Simon meant it; he watched you gasp for air, push at his chest when it was all too much. He himself was near his climax, but he could push it to the back of his mind if he focused entirely on you, especially as you cried out his name. He owed it to you.

Simon leaned in closer, his gaze glued to you as he thrusted inside you, wrapping his free hand around the circumference of your thigh. Your entire body rocked with his weight, feeling his fingers rub back and forth while his cock massaged your walls.

Another orgasm quickly approached- Simon was entirely invested and particularly good at learning new things- especially where your pleasure was involved. He watched you unfold, slowly at first, before your head fell back against the pillow and you cried out.

He could feel you shake, feel the sweat dripping down your thighs, the slick liquid leaking from inside you and drenching his cock and pelvis. Thick, coarse hair now covered in your arousal, his cock soaked with the creamy evidence of how hard you'd climaxed on him.

"'M close," He grunted, eyes flashing from the view of his cock sliding in and out of you to meet your gaze. "Fuck, I'm close," He breathed.

Your hands reached his shoulders, pulling his sweat-covered body against yours, your own skin slick with perspiration.

"Cum in me," You whispered in his ear, still catching your breath.

Without hesitation, and with your permission- he climaxed, every muscle tensing, his testes tightening as his pelvis slammed against you and he released every drop of his cum deep inside you.

It was still for a moment, still feeling his cock twitch as he exhaled, catching his breath.

"You alright?" He asked, staring at you from his position.

"Yeah- you?"

"Fine," He replied. "Any better?" He rolled to the side.

You pursed your lips, turning to meet his eyes. "I faked it," You hid a growing grin.

"'Nother go, then?" He tucked his arm behind his head, cocking it ever so slightly as he eyed you down.

"I could give it another try," You feigned disinterest, smiling softly.

"Come 'ere," He nodded, helping you over his hips. "Make yourself cum this time."

#cod mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #simon riley smut #strlingsavwrites

[strlingsav]

I need some... toe curling, mouth watering, hair ripping, blood spiking, heart racing, jaw clenching, rough, creamy, absolute filthy Simon...

Tension, tension, tension girl I'm feening

OKAY !! I'll do it!! A little drabble (not rly a drabble) just for you!

Fighting

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Yourself and Simon have an argument.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

It was like running in circles- endlessly tired, exhausted, and finding yourself in the same fucking place you were when you started. It felt like nothing you ever had to say was reason enough to convince him to change. It was a tireless fight, begging Simon for more affection, more time, more attention than he was able to give.

It didn't stop the irritation from building, though. It crept under your skin when he'd sit on the sofa watching the TV instead of talking with you. When he'd get ready for bed and fall asleep without so much as a "goodnight".

You'd certainly grown sick of the distance. Of feeling like a stranger was living with you. Trying your hardest not to take up space or make a single noise for fear of pushing him even further away. Living in your home had turned into an abysmal state you didn't want to put yourself in.

It hadn't crossed your mind to approach him- not until you'd finally reached your wit's end, finally cracked the porcelain facade that had been saving your relationship. Not anymore.

He didn't expect it- in fact, things were fine, to him. Admittedly, his mind was elsewhere, though he had a good excuse; the toll of deployment. He needed a good reset, a recharge, and in the meantime, he had neglected you. Unintentionally, of course, but still, he'd made you feel unwanted, unloved- nearly a burden.

Your patience had snapped, run so thin it finally tore like a thread under tension. Though he thought nothing of it- his hands had taken hold of your waist, pulling you into his chest as you finished the dishes in the sink. You knew by the rigidity in his muscles and soft breaths against the back of your neck; he wanted you.

Any other time, you wouldn't resist him. The warmth of his palms, the smell of his body- he could pull arousal from even the deepest parts of you. Though now, you recoiled from his touch. You shrunk yourself down, pressing against the counter until he released his grip.

"You tired?" He asked.

You scoffed, so quiet and meek it was nearly pathetic. You were still afraid to say the wrong thing, to send him packing.

"No," You shook your head. Honesty was important, but you weren't sure you were ready to have this argument. So you settled for half-truths and cowardice.

His hands once again reached your hips, large fingers digging into your skin, wrapping a giant forearm around your middle as he pulled you into him.

"You want me to beg?" He mumbled in your ear- so clearly turned on by the idea of begging for a piece of you.

Your eyes clamped shut, swallowing harshly as you tried to resist temptation. It felt good, so fucking good, to feel his hands on you again, to have his voice in your ear, his soft breaths against your skin. You could've crumbled then and there, fallen into him and let him have what he wanted- but your body had a way of preventing such weakness.

You were sad. Instead of utterly aroused, soaking your panties, you felt sick, nauseous. It lodged in your throat, stung at your eyes and twisted your face into a look of contempt.

"You want me now?" You asked, slipping from his grip and throwing your dish towel on the counter.

He raised a brow, watching you. "Thought I was bein' obvious."

"You were," You nodded, your hand finding the counter for balance. "But you just pick and choose when you want me, right?"

His brows furrowed, and he took a step back to allow for some space between you.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" He tilted his head, eyeing you down.

Your heart had begun to race, your chest heaving to keep up with the pulse in your ears.

"You haven't touched me in weeks," You breathed out. "Haven't hardly said a word to me in weeks."

He sighed, hanging his head briefly. His eyes met yours and he nodded slowly.

"Takes time to get myself reacquainted after bein' gone. Thought you understood," He muttered.

"Don't blame me for this," You scoffed, though this time it was audible and poignant. "You want to fuck me but you won't spend time with me? Talk to me?"

He raised his brows in shock, tilting his head as if it could allow him another lead to follow. He stepped closer, trapping you between his arms with your back against the counter. You avoided his eyes, avoided letting him see the tears gathering in your waterline.

"I do wanna fuck you," He answered. His eyes glowered at you, menacing and almost threatening.

Your jaw clenched. A look of disgust crossing your features.

"You think if I didn't fuck you it'd change anything?" He asked, watching your eyes meet his. "You been missin' my attention, sweetheart? I know I miss bein' inside you."

You huffed, nostrils flaring as he brought his lips to your neck. Your hand reached his chest, using all your strength to push him off- he remained a statue, still pinning you against the counter.

"Don't fight me," He murmured. "I know you're mad- needy," He pressed his lips against your jaw, hunched over enough that he could whisper in your ear. "I'll make it up to you, love."

You wanted to roll your eyes, but his voice called to you like a Siren- it nearly made your eyes close to savour just how good it sounded to be taken care of. To be touched, fucked, by him again.

"I missed you," You admitted, still soured by his behaviour. "And you just want to fuck me."

He drew his hand up your side, his large hand encasing your waist.

"Missed you too," He said, like it was obvious. "Can't miss you and want you at the same time?"

His lips were inches from yours, forming a small, nearly unnoticeable smile. He liked the fight, the rejection; it only made him work harder for an even sweeter reward. His fingers worked open the button of your jeans, causing you to stutter.

"Y-you can," You trailed off, your head falling back as he sensuously dragged his lips up your neck, teeth softly scraping your flesh.

"Then what's the problem?" He mumbled.

You sighed, relaxing into his arms as his hand swiftly dove beneath your panties and his fingertips pressed against your clit.

Despite your adamant denial, you were wet. Pulsating, sore, desperate and needy. He was right- you missed his attention. Yearned so deeply for it, it nearly hurt.

His fingers drew soft circles around your clit, your body jolting with every rotation, your knees weakening against him. He had no qualms about holding you up while he touched you, nor when his fingers slid inside you so easily it made him chuckle.

"I'll take proper care of you, sweetheart," He said softly.

His lips met yours, in the middle of a gasp, fighting you to move your lips against his, accept his tongue in your mouth. You did- without hesitation, and let your hands glide over his shoulders so he could hold you up.

"Simon," You muttered. "More- please," You breathed into his neck.

Your hips rocked against his hand, his fingers deep in your pussy, throbbing around his digits while he coaxed whimpers and moans out of you. Your arousal was evident, loud echoes off the apartment walls of the mess he'd made of you.

He loved it. Loved hearing how fucking turned on you were. Loved that your pussy got wet so easily without more than a few strokes of his fingers. Loved that you clenched around his fingers and struggled to get closer, grasped at his shoulders and ground your hips to get more out of him. He liked setting the pace, though. Wanted to watch you cry and beg to go faster, harder.

He'd give you relief with his cock, instead. Wouldn't want to waste the feeling of your pussy tightening around him- it always made him cum even harder when you milked his cock. He withdrew his fingers, forcefully lifting you from the ground.

He entrapped your lips with his again, trudging down the dark hallway until he found the light of your bedroom and kicked the door open. He set you down, lifting his shirt over his head so you could run your hands over his abdomen.

You shivered, his broad shoulders flexing, swaying as he maneuvered toward you, forcing the back of your knees to hit the bed. You fell back, sitting on the bed and staring up at him expectantly.

"Turn over," He ordered, watching with amusement as you scurried to land on all fours.

Your head peered over your shoulder, lowering yourself to the bed as he stepped behind you. His belt clanked as he pulled it open, tugging his jeans down to reveal his cock. He'd been struggling with his own desire- as much as he'd missed you, he couldn't ever properly fuck you unless he knew he would be totally, completely present.

He ran his palms over your ass, drawing a shudder from your body as the warmth crept further up your waist. He lined himself up with your weeping cunt, slowly working his way inside with short, soft thrusts until his hips met your ass.

You were breathless- mouth agape, eyes fluttering shut as his cock nudged your cervix, stretching you out enough that your body erupted with goosebumps. He grunted softly at the feel of your pussy around him, the deliciously wet, plush walls inadvertently pulling him in. He too, shuddered, then bent at the waist to mould his chest to your back.

"'M sorry," He breathed against your shoulder blades. "Been neglectin' you."

It didn't bother you that Simon apologized when he was inside you- he was already vulnerable, already bearing himself to you; the apology sent warmth radiating through you.

"It's okay," You slurred, twisting your body to find his dark eyes already watching you. "Don't stop," You muttered, breathing out. "Just don't stop, baby- please," You moaned out, guttural and breathless while his thrusts pushed you forward on your hands.

His soft lips touched your shoulder, wrapping an arm beneath you to pull your back even closer, using his other hand to adjust the flesh of your ass so he could bury his cock even deeper inside you.

"Neglected this sweet fuckin' cunt too," He groaned. "Can never stay away from you- never get enough."

You sighed aloud, especially as his cock withdrew from your walls, leaving you empty and hollow- before sliding back inside. His arm moved to cling around your waist, his hard fingers sliding down your stomach to rub at your swollen clit fervidly.

"Don't do it again," You chided, though with half of your usual authority while he rutted his hips up against you. "I missed you," You muttered.

He left another gentle kiss against your shoulder, now breathing a bit heavier in your ear. You could feel the Adonis belt of his abdomen hit your ass, his dick angled just right as it rubbed inside you, his calloused fingers rubbing back and forth across your clit; your stomach had begun to tighten.

"Missed you too," He uttered, exhaling sharply when your pussy clenched around him. "Bloody fuckin' hell I missed you."

"Simon-" You gasped, your climax approaching at an unexpected pace while his words hit your ear, warm breath tingling your skin. "Keep going- I'm so close," You whined, your hips pushing backwards to force him inside you, faster, harder.

"Christ, love," He grunted. "Keep doin' that, 'n' I'm fuckin' done in," He chuckled, short and deep, hardly long enough for you to notice, but it moved through your back.

You came shortly after- knuckles white with the strength of your grip on the sheets, lips parted in a gasp, a heavy groan vibrating from your chest. Your stomach tensed, pussy tightening around his cock in short bursts, making his hips stutter with every thrust. As your eyes clenched shut, a black abyss of swirls and stars appearing behind your eyelids, you breathed out finally.

He wasn't far behind, finishing inside you as he always did, though he stayed still for a moment after, catching his breath. And when he finally came down from his climax, he fell to the bed, pulling you into his arms.

A soft kiss on your temple, his dick still lodged inside your worn pussy, coated with his cum, and he muttered a quiet, 'Night, love. We'll talk in the mornin'."

#cod mw2 #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod mwii #ghost smut #mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #strlingsavwrites

[strlingsav]

Drive: One

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Your relationship with your Lieutenant changes, drastically.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Your eyes were fixed on the road before you, watching the lines blur together under the glow of headlights. You stretched your legs out; being cramped in the tight space for hours made you restless. You'd been on edge; not just during the drive, or while entering foreign territory, but when your Lieutenant climbed into the driver's seat.

It was dark, well past midnight, and your eyelids began to flutter shut with the rhythm of tires on pavement. You sunk back into the seat, getting comfortable against the headrest. The silence was deafening, the cabin noise and soft breaths hardly saved you from the tension. If you slept, you wouldn't need to talk.

"L/N," Your Lieutenant's voice pulled you from the brink of sleep. "Stay awake."

You shifted upward, sighing as you looked over at him.

"Sorry, Sir," You said, your hand running over your eyes to wake yourself up.

"Y'tired?" He asked, his gaze shifting to yours briefly.

You nodded. "We've been driving for a while. Any idea when we'll be there?"

"Not long now," His short response was met with a nod, and you turned your head to look out the window at passing lights. "Another hour or two."

Yourself and the Lieutenant were headed toward Al Mazrah, at least a few hours behind the rest of 141. You were the last to be briefed, and they'd sent Soap, Gaz and Captain Price to gather intel before you arrived. They'd been in a convoy of SUVs carrying ammunition and rifles, ready to track down Hassan. It would be a while before anything concrete took place, but Price and Laswell always made sure every base was covered.

It was an uncomfortable situation- riding alone with your Lieutenant. You hadn't spent much one-on-one time with him, and you weren't sure if he expected you to talk or stay quiet. He was difficult to read.

His mysterious outward appearance only drew you to him, in a dangerous way. You frequently imagined what he looked like underneath the mask, if he was as well-built as your imagination made him out to be. The imagery was enticing, and maybe you flattered him a bit too much, but the bait was easy to take. His flippant regard for you made it even easier- you'd never been so motivated to be in someone's good graces.

You knew very well it was a violation of the code of conduct to engage in sexual or romantic relations with your superior. That didn't stop you from thinking of your Lieutenant in unsavoury ways, or positions, rather. The idea alone made your stomach flip- his calloused hands on your soft skin, his lips against your neck, lavishing your body with hungry kisses.

It was a twisted dose of karma, sitting side-by-side, trapped with the man you fantasized about. The man that was strictly off-limits. But you felt like you knew him, at least parts of him, the ones you saw when you watched him, and the fabricated images of his body. It was pure torture, and the more you tried to resist, the harder it became.

Ghost's hand gripped the steering wheel, the other on the gearshift. He was stoic, as usual, but his shoulders were stiff, knuckles white with tension, head nodding side to side with the movements of the vehicle.

"Are you tired?" You looked over, stepping over an unspoken line as you teased him.

You knew you were playing a risky game; you'd been working alongside 141 for close to a year, but Ghost was a locked vault. It was difficult having a conversation with him, ever since you'd arrived.

He wasn't a quiet man, you'd seen the way he interacted with Soap and Price, he only seemed to limit conversation with you specifically. Without coming on too strong, you made an effort to talk to him, hoping he'd warm up to you. Your attempts were futile, only met with one or two word answers and the harsh taste of rejection.

He looked over at you, no hint of expression in his eyes. "No," He shook his head. "'M gettin' sick of the scenery though."

"I can drive if you need to rest."

He looked at the dashboard, checking the time. "Be there soon, no need."

"Anything I can do to help you stay awake? Cold air? Loud music?" You quirked a brow up.

He shook his head again.

"I could sing?" You teased again, hearing him grumble.

"'M sure you'd put me right to sleep," He said, making you laugh.

"I've been told I have the voice of an angel, Lieutenant," You replied, with a soft hum of disbelief coming from him.

You turned your attention back to the road, satisfied with the interaction. It was a tiny glimpse into his actual personality.

"Think you're more the devilish type," He said suddenly, catching your attention.

Your eyes shifted to the side of his head. "Why's that?"

He was silent again, thinking his words over. You could see his eyes dart back and forth across the road ahead, looking around as if gathering a sentence.

His words had intrigued you. It was the usual ribbing you'd expect from your teammates, not your Lieutenant. You knew he was likely making a joke, likely not suggestive in any manner- but it reached your lower abdomen and sent tingles through your spine.

"I've seen you starin'," He said, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment. "Like you're plottin' somethin'."

You felt your cheeks warm at being discovered and your only priority was to cover your tracks.

"Only trying to figure you out Loot, you're an enigma."

"What've you figured out so far?" He asked, a hint of interest in his tone.

You huffed, pursing your lips are you thought.

"You're not the quiet type, in fact, I think you're very chatty. Surprisingly selfless, mostly fearless."

He scoffed. "Mostly?"

"You seem to be scared of me," You answered, your eyes focusing on the side of his head.

He didn't reply, taking his time with your words, reflecting on whether he wanted to be honest, or brutally crush your feelings so he wouldn't have to speak of it again. As he looked at you, his eyes landing on your lips, then your eyes, he wondered if you really had figured him out, and hadn't even noticed. He couldn't resist the look in your eye, the shape of your lips, your smell even, and he debated whether telling you was a good idea- he knew once it started he wouldn't want to stop.

Of course, he was hesitant to say anything, the last thing he needed was to be discharged on account of a sexual harassment accusation. Though the way your body leaned toward his, eyes poring into his, an innocent expression of curiosity on your face, he was confident you were ready to hear the truth- maybe even eager.

"Ain't scared of anything. 'Specially not you. Restraint is more like it," He said, eyes locked on yours for a dangerously long time.

You were nearly dumbfounded, unsure how to respond to the revelation. The entire car ride was a cage match, locked in the tiny space with him until something came of it. A solution, clarification- anything. Maybe even rejection so you'd able to move on and scrub every nasty thought of him from your brain.

You lifted your eyes to him, lips parting in confusion.

"You have to restrain yourself around me?" Your eyebrows furrowed as you laughed lightly.

"Think you do the same," He said. "You just ain't nearly as good at hidin' your wanderin' eyes."

You flushed again, this time, it went deep into your core. A flood of arousal working it's way into the depths of your womb, twisting and turning. You weren't sure whether you had deliberately chosen to stay silent, or if you were at a loss for words. Mustering some confidence, you knew you couldn't let the sliver of information slip from your grasp.

"You watch me, L.T.?"

His gaze met yours, no words following. You chose your next words carefully, but couldn't deny how badly you wanted to move things forward. As you scanned his face, your heart pounding in your chest, you knew it needed to be done, needed to be out in the open. You only hoped he'd be just as transparent with you.

"If I'd known that, I would've given you a show," You said, half-teasing, half-serious, and incredibly invested in where the conversation was headed. It was another line crossed- impossible to turn back.

"That so?" He quipped, intrigued. "Never too late."

You were suddenly aware of how very real it was- the risk of being caught, court-marshalled, discharged- it drove you to rebel even more. You'd never been a big fan of rules anyway. You wanted what you couldn't have, and the temptation was far too strong now to retreat.

"Is that what you want, Lieutenant?" You asked, unbuckling the seatbelt.

"Show me," He nodded, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned back.

You sat up straight, your fingers reaching for the buttons on your jacket. Your eyes hadn't left him, intently staring, waiting for a reaction. He glanced over every few seconds, his eyes unreadable as he scoured your frame. You felt the scorch of lust, licking up your spine and engulfing you as your pussy began to seep with wetness.

Your mind was swimming with questions and fears, wondering if it was a mistake; if he hadn't truly meant it. But the anxiety in your gut was quickly replaced with desire, burning straight through you when his eyes met yours.

As you undid the bottom button, you pulled the jacket open, sliding it down your shoulders to reveal your bra, and Ghost had a difficult time keeping his eyes on the road.

"Easily distracted," You said, amused. "I'll add that to the list." You moved closer.

"Hard not to be," He shot back.

You leaned back against the seat, goosebumps covering your flesh when he looked over, eyes glued to your breasts, then up to your eyes.

"I'm waitin'," He urged, his free hand falling to your thigh. "Go on."

You shut your eyes, the first taste of intimacy was delicious, warming you inside and out.

You reached your fatigues, unbuttoning them slowly while his hand stroked your thigh. Sliding them down, you sat in your bra and panties on the cool leather seat.

His palm against your skin spread waves of shivers through you.

"Pretty little thing you are," He said, his fingers inching up toward your pussy. "Been waitin' for me to touch you, haven't you?"

You were shocked to hear him speak to you that way; never had you imagined you'd have Lieutenant Ghost calling you pretty, stroking your skin like you were made of glass. It aroused you to no end.

"Yes Sir," You nodded, your hand coming to rest over his as his fingertips ghosted your pussy.

He was infatuated with the sight of your body, your skin, the curves of your flesh, your breasts, thighs on display for him. It didn't take long for his cock to harden, and he shifted uncomfortably in the seat, his chest rising and falling quickly. You noticed his disposition, and took it upon yourself to slide in closer.

"I'd like to please you," You said softly, your sweet voice emanating in his ear; it made his cock twitch. "Help keep you awake."

"Have at it, sweetheart."

You pressed your body against his shoulder. The feeling made you shudder, impatience coursing through you, adrenaline-fuelled confidence overriding any doubts. His grip on the steering wheel tightened when your hand grazed his thigh, a trail of warmth left behind as you eased upward, toward the belt of his fatigues.

"Bloody hell," He muttered, his head snapping to look at you as you wrenched his belt open, snaking your hand into his pants to feel him over his briefs.

He sounded tense, like he desperately needed relief. His voice was hoarse, jugular pounding against his neck as his heart raced. You leaned forward, feeling his pulse on your soft lips, taking the opportunity to slide beneath his briefs and take his cock in your hand. He let out a shaky exhale, though his demeanour hadn't changed.

You licked a stripe up your palm, adding lubrication to better massage him. He grunted when you teased the tip of his cock, your thumb rubbing soft circles over it. You ended his torture relatively quickly, you yourself unable to resist the sounds he made when your hand ran up and down his cock.

"Tha's' it," He mumbled, his eyelids fluttering shut before snapping open to watch his driving.

"Tell me how you like it, Sir," You whispered, your voice welcoming and warm against his covered ear.

"Just like that, sweetheart."

You smiled, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, squeezing your palm firmly around him while your wrist twisted.

He lifted one hand off the steering wheel, welcoming you under his arm as you leaned down to wrap your lips over the head of his cock. You hollowed your cheeks, applying suction as you took him deeper into your mouth, your tongue sliding back and forth on the underside of his cock. He was big, uncomfortably large, stretching your lips and causing an ache in your jaw, but you wouldn't relent.

"Fuuuuckin' hell," He slurred.

It had been a long time since he'd slept with anyone. Not because he couldn't, but because he didn't want it. He was completely satisfied with his vow of celibacy; not having to explain anything to potential partners, only answering to himself, no tearful goodbyes or leaving someone alone if he were K.I.A. He had it perfected, until he laid his eyes on you.

He knew almost immediately that he'd drop to his knees for you, worship every inch of your body if you let him. But his rational brain knew better, knew that a relationship of any kind between a C.O. and his private was bound to end in fiery wreckage. It seemed, however, that he wasn't up to the challenge of resisting you, especially not now, with your lips wrapped around his cock.

"Atta girl," He grunted.

You could hear the low grunts and rumbles of approval from his chest, his hips bucking against your mouth as you bobbed up and down his cock. You felt the vehicle sway a bit, then felt his hand reach down to gather your hair, pulling just enough to make you moan with pleasure.

Saliva dropped from your mouth down his cock, accidental slurps slipping from you as you struggled to keep a quick pace. It was messy, rough, invigorating, as you imagined him restraining himself, trying his best to keep the vehicle centred.

He growled when you took him to the back of your throat, closing it around his cock. Lifting your head, you gulped in air, tear stains on your cheeks, swollen lips.

You didn't waste another second diving back down, wrapping your hand around his cock as your mouth focused all your attention on the engorged tip. You smoothed your tongue over the ridges and veins, moaning softly when he exhaled sharply.

Suddenly, you felt the SUV come to a halt, and Ghost threw it in park. Sitting up, your eyes scanned your surroundings. A side road, unencumbered by lights or traffic.

"Lie back," He said, taking off his seatbelt. "Will y'let me eat this pretty cunt? Been dyin' to taste you."

You exhaled sharply, his words dripping like honey, sweet and slow, enshrouding you in warmth.

You nodded, "Yes, Sir."

His hand gripped your waist, guiding you into position, leaning back against the door while he moved your legs into his shoulders. He slipped his mask up over his nose, and your eyes flew to his lips- moist, pink, almost raw with how hard he'd been biting to keep quiet. His jawline was covered with stubble, you were antsy to feel the prickly skin against yours.

His hands dipped down to your thighs, gripping the supple flesh, large enough to hold the circumference of them. He gave a gentle squeeze- reassurance- and you felt his breath fan over your pussy.

His finger hooked into the seat of your panties, tugging them aside. You watched with bated breath, distracted by the way his eyes never left yours as he neared your pussy.

"Suckin' my cock make you this wet, sweetheart?" He asked, an inflection of mockery in his tone.

"Yes," You breathed out, your pussy flinching expectantly with every gust of warm air against you.

"Jesus," He mumbled.

You sighed with content, relaxing into his hold when you finally felt his silky tongue slide between your folds, making contact with your clit. You flinched, but his iron grip held you still under his ministrations.

Your hands reached out to grip his mask, digging into his hair to release even a small amount of pent up frustration.

He was relentless, licking and sucking at your clit fervidly, unabashed. He devoured your pussy, unafraid to make a mess of himself. He grunted with approval at the taste of you and his hands couldn't stop from massaging the malleable flesh of your thighs, spreading your pussy for easier access.

"Yes, Sir," You whimpered, voice cracking at the awkward angle and pleasure rendering you unintelligible. "Please- right there."

He hummed, "I like hearin' you beg."

Your soft exhales turned to whines. The sounds of your pussy were amplified in the cabin, only adding to the arousal pooling in your womb.

"Knew you'd taste fuckin' divine," He whispered against you, and you shivered.

You arched your back, silently begging him to continue massaging your clit with his tongue, and he surprised you with two fingers, sliding inside you with ease.

"Tight fuckin' cunt you have," He grunted, flexing his fingers inside you.

He curled his fingers, his tongue running back and forth over your clit, and your thighs began to shake. Your toes curled over his shoulders, your pussy clenching down as your orgasm neared.

He felt the way you hugged his fingers, and huffed softly against you. Enveloping your clit in his mouth, he sucked gently, his fingers matching the pace. You felt your abdomen tighten, before your climax took over; your eyes falling closed, mouth wide as you let out a strangled moan.

"Tha's it," He whispered, coaxing your orgasm from you and prolonging it with the flick of his tongue and fingers.

You shivered, hitting plateaus of pleasure as you came down from your high, exhaling harshly when his tongue grazed your sensitive clit.

He sat up, his hands grabbing your waist as he shifted his seat further back, practically lifting you over to his lap.

You settled yourself over his thighs, feeling his cock nestled between your folds. You couldn't help but grind your hips over him, and he lurched forward to grab the back of your neck. His hands tugged you in to press his lips against yours, his tongue finding purchase in your mouth.

He swallowed the soft, breathless moans that escaped your throat, your pussy flinching every time his cock nudged your clit. His lips were soft- softer than you'd expected them to be- and it made you melt in his arms. You drew your arms around his shoulders, your hands digging into the flesh of his neck, locking him in position as you kissed.

He grunted into your mouth, the feeling of your slick core grinding over him was making him impatient.

"Stop teasin'," He scolded, his hand reaching back to grip your ass, stopping your hips from rolling forward. "Can't wait much longer."

You shivered, keeping eye contact as you perched forward, helping him to position his cock at your entrance. Your lips parted with a gasp as he slid inside you, stretching your pussy. His fingers dug into your flesh, a sharp exhale leaving his lips.

"Shit," He choked. "Y'feel like fuckin' heaven, sweetheart."

You felt a surge of pride, before it was shattered with just how much you whimpered while sliding down his length. You sat still for a moment, letting yourself adjust to the intrusion, taking a deep breath. You moved forward, and his vice-like grip helped you grind your hips against his.

You fell into his chest, your arms still clinging to his shoulders, your breasts brushing against his vest. He watched you with an intense stare, mesmerized by the way you reacted to his cock deep inside you.

"Fuckin' hell," He growled.

You continued to ride his lap, thighs and ass flexing as you pushed forward, your hands gripping his vest for leverage. He reached down, using his thumb to rub over your clit. You moaned aloud, your eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the impending orgasm building in your gut.

He relished the way you moaned, softly spoke his callsign, Sir, whimpered, nearly cried as he overstimulated you. He leaned forward, lavishing your throat with hungry kisses, traces of teeth and tongue mixing with his lips. It was too much, or maybe just enough- you were so numb with pleasure it was hard to tell.

"God," You cried, your fingers reaching into his hair beneath his balaclava.

"Tell me how good this cock feels, buried in you."

"So good- so fucking deep," You whined.

"Christ," Another groan as your pussy clenched around him. "Y'look good on my cock."

His vulgar words pushed you even closer to the edge, panting as you chased your orgasm. A part of you had yet to come to terms with the fact that you were fucking your Lieutenant, the other didn't care much what his rank was. His cock was nuzzled against your G-spot, his raspy voice whispering words of encouragement- he was only Ghost, and the repercussions had all but left your mind.

"Keep talking like that, please, Sir," You whimpered, your voice breaking.

He hummed in response. "Fuck," A gust of air from his nose as he struggled to keep his composure while your pussy hugged him tightly.  "You just keep ridin' my cock. Make yourself cum."

"Yes, Sir."

"Think you get off on callin' me Sir," He paused between strangled breaths. "And bein' told what to do."

You nodded. "Yes, Sir."

His hand moved to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh. His fingers traced over your nipples, goosebumps erupting across your body. He pinched them softly, and you let out a whimper.

"Then be a good girl and cum for me," He said, watching as you bounced on his cock.

"I'm so close," Your voice broke.

His thumb hadn't relented, and the added stimulation made it even easier to unfold. Your hand reached out, slamming against the window to brace yourself when your body went rigid. Your pussy clenched one last time before you squeezed your eyes shut, writhing in his grip as ecstasy lit up every nerve in your body. You tried to hold it back, tried to hold out a bit longer, but he played your body so well it almost broke you.

"Shit!" You cried, your head falling forward to his.

You gasped for air through your muscles contracting, your orgasm enveloping your entire body. He breathed out, his cock twitching when your pussy clenched around him. His fingers were bruising your waist and hip, holding onto you firmly like you'd vanish if he didn't.

He choked on his words, a sharp gasp from the back of his throat as the silken muscles of your pussy flexed around his cock.

You bucked your hips, extending the longevity of your orgasm while he watched with intrigue, pride swelling with how well he could unravel you.

"Not long now, pussy is too good," He said, his voice strangled and tight.

You were still suffering the after-effects of your orgasm, sweat lining your forehead, relaxing into his hold on your body. You pushed yourself to continue, wanting so badly to feel him release inside you.

"Cum in me," You whispered.

He didn't give it a second thought, though he should've, but your body against his, the doughy feel of your pussy- he almost didn't have a choice. His breathing faltered as he bucked his hips up into yours. He grunted softly, your waist already sore with his heavy touch, keeping you in place as he came in you.

The air was still for a moment, both of you catching your breath while still reeling from your orgasm. You quickly collected yourself, sliding off of him to ease back into the passenger seat.

"Here," He said, handing you a rag from his vest.

"Thanks," You muttered.

You quickly cleaned up and dressed yourself as he turned the car off the side road and toward the destination. You let out a soft sigh, feeling more tired than before. Your head landed against the window.

"You alright?" He asked, looking over at you.

You nodded, "Tired."

"Be there soon. We can pick this up later."

A sly smile crossed your lips. "You're not going to hold back on me again, are you?"

His eyes met yours with a chilling stare. He'd had his first fix, and he knew now there was no end in sight- he was addicted.

"Quite the opposite, sweetheart."

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #drive series

[strlingsav]

Ride

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Western AU: You have a run-in with notorious outlaw, Ghost.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Boisterous laughter and loud conversation made it difficult to hear John beside you, though you were hardly listening. You were too preoccupied with surveillance; scanning the crowd for a familiar face- or mask, more appropriately. It seemed most folks had let loose for the evening, but your eyes and ears remained sharp as you peered around the room.

Nightfall had come, cooling the hot sand of the desert and bringing with it the expectation of drunken patrons. Candelabras, oil lamps and a roaring fire tinged the saloon red and camouflaged the smell of cigar smoke. It was the usual for the small town, the only source of entertainment and drinks within a hundred-mile radius.

It'd been a while since you had the privilege of relaxing, even if you were still hyper-vigilant. Your exhaustion came from sleepless nights while on your travels. Unable to let your guard down under the stars, you'd hardly slept in the last few days. Sleeping on buffalo pelts and red dirt; your eyes were weary and tired, though there must've been a look of contemplation in your eyes.

"What's got you quiet?" John asked, leaning in closer. "Worried?"

You looked over at him; in all his drunken relaxation and exhaustion from the day's ride, he still read your expression with ease.

"Not worried," You shook your head once- unconvincingly. "Watching."

"Think you're waitin' for somethin' bad," He joked, elbowing you a bit harshly for your liking.

"Think you're a bit too drunk," You tossed back, watching him grin.

"Loosen up, kid," He scolded. "Only here for the night."

You were about to respond, when the saloon went dead-silent; the clinking of lost coins falling as patrons froze in their footsteps, the low shuffle of chairs while they searched for their pistols- likely dropped carelessly in a drunken stupor. The tune from the piano abruptly stopped, and all heads turned to the swinging parlour doors.

You lifted your gaze and there he was. Ghost.

Your jaw clenched, sitting up straight as you watched him slide in effortlessly, like he was unaware he'd stopped the world for a second. His boots hit the floorboards with heavy thuds, his spurs clanking and spinning with each step. You watched him tip his cowboy hat to the barkeep, who appeared no less than terrified.

"No trouble, alright? Hardly finished cleanin' up from last time," The barkeep said, stern yet wavering.

"No trouble," He nodded, taking a seat at the bar.

Most of the activity had resumed, though more than half of the townsfolk had escaped the moment he stepped inside. You didn't blame them; he was an intimidating man, and his stoic nature left questions and whispers at his back. You perched up further on your seat, eyes locked on the mass of muscle that made himself comfortable on the foolishly small stool.

"Ghost," John hardly whispered- disbelief, fear, a combination of both. It ran a shiver down your spine. "Never thought I'd see him here again."

You remained silent, studying the cowboy as he hunched over the bar and nursed his drink. He peered over his shoulder, finding your prying eyes and staring right back. You swallowed harshly, wondering if he recognized you. If he knew it was you, sitting mere feet from him.

Of course he knew it was you.

"Let's get out o' here before the shite hits," John swallowed the last of his beer, throwing his coat over his shoulders.

"I'll catch up," You nodded.

John was hesitant; he knew well you'd handle your own, stand your ground, but stray bullets have no name and he worried for your life. Ghost's reputation was not one of gentleness and kind deeds- he was an outlaw.

"C'mon," He ushered.

"I'm finishing my drink. I'll catch up, John," You insisted.

He finally conceded, pulling his arm through his sleeve before nodding curtly.

"I'll pay the barkeep and stablehand. I'll come lookin' if I don't see you in the mornin'."

You nodded in response, watching him stride past the masked man, head turned as he investigated. Finally, he disappeared from the saloon, leaving you to your own devices as you sipped your whisky. It wasn't without your appreciation- but unbeknownst to John, you knew Ghost better than anyone.

Your eyes drifted around the room, not noticing him stand from his stool and approach your table until you heard the spurs hit the floor. You lifted your head then, and watched as he pulled the chair out across from you to sit down.

His scent immediately washed over you- gunpowder and rolled cigarettes. The fresh smell of whisky emanated from his lips as he spoke through the black mask over his face. The deep, inviting accent made your body shiver- already planting arousal in your womb without any effort.

"You here on business?" He asked.

"Pleasure," You replied, finishing a gulp.

You feigned relaxation, letting your shoulders fall and your back hit the chair as you leaned further away. This was your game, your routine- you enjoyed the part you played, even if it took an astounding amount of willpower not to climb onto his lap.

"Seems you're in the right place," He said back, raising his head to look at you.

"Thought so," You added. "Wasn't sure when I didn't see your face plastered around town."

You watched the fabric of his mask move- a grin. You smiled softly, smugly.

"Reason for the mask," He responded. "Lucky few get to know my face."

You raised a brow.

"Colour me flattered."

"You interested in a ride, sweetheart?" He asked, thighs spread as he leaned back in his chair.

You swallowed again, this time finishing your drink. Your hand held your chin up as your eyes met his with a glimmer of sadistic enjoyment. He watched your hat tip, and you brushed a stray lock of hair from your face as he stood to his feet.

He lead you upstairs- a room he'd rented for the evening while in search of you. You'd met a handful of times, always finding each other in the chaos of the saloon and ending the evening in whatever bed was available.

Since then, he'd come to terms with the fact that he'd ride to the ends of the earth to find you. The laws he had to break hardly mattered, neither did the "wanted" posters or the townsfolk cowering in fear at his very appearance. None of it mattered as much as finding you. You left him chasing the very hint of you, the smallest pieces he could get his hands on just for the chance of relief.

He risked his freedom every time he strolled into town. It was common knowledge everywhere he went; his previous crimes still kept him labeled as a wanted man. He could've ridden off, started a new life under his true name, but you brought him back every damn time.

"Y'were hard to find," He muttered, his lips haphazardly pressed against your neck.

He'd corralled you against the wall while his fingers worked open the buttons on your breeches. He'd ditched his hat and mask, thrown recklessly on the floor as you danced around each other in an attempt to disrobe.

"Maybe I didn't want you to find me," You answered, your arm wrapping around his head as you pulled him closer.

"Doubt that," He answered as his calloused hand dove beneath your pants, and was welcomed with warmth and wetness. "You like knowin' I'll find you wherever you go, sweetheart."

You grinned, your ego slowly shattering as his fingers teased between your thighs. Warm, calloused fingers slid through your folds, eliciting a jolt when he purposely evaded your clit. You huffed softly, humming amusedly in his ear.

"Nowhere to hide from Ghost," You whispered in his ear, making him groan. "I think you like the chase."

"I do," He grinned against your neck. "But now that I've got you- there ain't nowhere left for you to run."

You shivered as he circled your clit, the softness in his touch a stark contrast to his other hand; an iron-like grip on your waist, keeping you pinned against the wall.

The room itself was quiet and dark, lit by only a few candles and the smell reminiscent of the fire roaring beneath you. You could hardly make out his face in the orange light, but your head turned to meet his gaze, and his lips upturned subtly.

He missed you; most everything about you. Truthfully, you weren't very hard to find. You left every possible clue and trace, in hopes he'd track you down. You never stood a chance against a man like Ghost, anyway. He could practically smell you from the town over.

His cock was pressed against your thigh, a sense of anticipation creeping up your spine. You grasped at his vest and work shirt as he slid two fingers inside you, lips against your neck again as he hid his soft grunts from you.

Long fingers stroked firmly inside you, his thumb caressing the bundle of nerves above. Your knees had weakened, pushing your hips against him in an effort to get closer- to get more.

"Ghost," You muttered softly, hands planted against his chest. He was still nipping and kissing at your neck, still driving his fingers into your pussy. "Get on the bed, cowboy," You said- firmer this time, and it caught his attention.

He pulled away slowly, withdrawing his fingers before placing them in his mouth and sucking softly.

"Beautiful," His lip twitched, removing his holster from his hips while he backed up.

You followed, shrugging off your blouse and stepping out of your breeches while he unbuttoned his work shirt.

Usually, Ghost wasn't one to allow a woman control, but the way you looked riding his cock was enough of an incentive to listen.

He collapsed on the bed, taking hold of your waist as you climbed on top of him, straddling his wide hips and setting your palms on his chest. His eyes were drawn to your chest, then your stomach, then your pussy, where he felt his cock rest between your folds and shifted your hips to feel the slick wetness seeping from your pussy.

"C'mon, then," He grunted, jerking his hips up to earn your attention. "Ride it, love."

You smirked- abiding his pestering by gently coaxing his cock inside you, a slow descent to fullness, earning an airy exhale as you found yourself seated on his hips.

He groaned, aggressive hands guiding your hips back and forth, up and down. He watched as your head fell back, toes curled beneath you while your hips strode forward.

"Ghost," You exhaled again, fingernails digging into the muscle and taught meat of his chest.

He sat up, his hand finding the small of your back, matching your rhythm with short thrusts. His other hand used heavy pressure against your clit, head tilted up while he watched your eyes squeeze shut with pleasure.

Your stomach twisted, pace increasing while you fell deeper and deeper, closing in on your orgasm with ambition. Your hips retreated, desperate to ease the over-stimulation and try to bring yourself back to present, before he tugged you closer and rammed his hips up into you.

"Don't run from me," He chided, eyes face-level with your bouncing tits, he brought one of your erect nipples to his mouth and sucked hard. "Take it, love."

You gasped, your body pushed over the boundary of stubbornness and finally allowing your orgasm to pass through your insides. Your entire body filled with heat, flushing red-hot blood through your womb as your pussy clenched around his cock.

"So good," You managed a whisper, jaw clenching before you sucked in a sharp breath to regain clarity.

"No cunt as good as yours," He grumbled, his hot tongue running across your breasts and circling your nipples. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, your body nearly crumbling in his hands. "Keep goin' sweetheart."

Your laboured breaths spurred him on, leaning against the wall as he sat up to finally kiss you, harsh lips enveloping yours. He sneaked his tongue inside your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

"Y'want it in you?" He asked, nearly breathless.

You nodded, eyes glazed over and too exhausted to answer. He released inside you, muscles tensing and cock twitching as warm spurts of cum coated your walls.

You took a moment to catch your breath, before dismounting and collapsing next to him with a huff.

"You onto the next after this?" He asked.

"Gotta be," You tilted your head to smile softly at him. "Can't stick around for long- people get suspicious."

"Come with me," He said, less of a question and more of a suggestion.

"You wanna run away together?" You asked, grinning.

"I'd turn myself in 'for I let you get away again."

You let out a short chuckle, "Alright, outlaw. Get your rest- we're gone at dawn."

#cod mw2 #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod mwii #ghost smut #mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #strlingsavwrites #western AU #western Simon Riley #gunslinger AU #outlaw AU #outlaw Simon Riley

[strlingsav]

Memories

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Meeting your ex leads you to reminiscing.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Thanks to @mykneeshurt for helping me out of my rut with this one 🫶🏻

It wasn't your wisest decision; you'd been careful thus far in the grieving process not to use poor coping mechanisms to get you through bad days, but the anonymity and seclusion of the downtown bar brought you a bit of peace. More than yoga or journaling- especially after the first sip of your drink.

You hated to admit it felt good. Even if you sat in silence and merely stared down the liquid in your glass, your brain was finally empty. You didn't want to sit with your feelings anymore, you wanted to get drunk and pretend they didn't exist.

You even contemplated trying a cigarette. Another poor decision surely wouldn't lead you any deeper into your already darkened abyss. The bearded man to your right, with one hand around a beer and the other holding a smouldering stick, made it look serene- cathartic, even. A flat expression and dull eyes, you envied his lack of awareness.

You stuck out like a sore thumb, though. You didn't meld with the horde of middle-aged men, or blue-collar workers crowded around a pool table. Your legs were crossed on the barstool, hair neatly done and makeup on your face- if it wasn't smudged yet.

It made it easy for him to spot you. As if he couldn't find you in a sea of people anyway, your appearance drew in his gaze immediately. His heart dropped to his stomach, a rapid increase in his pulse that throbbed in his throat.

He hadn't seen you for years. Not since you left, since he left. A scarred wound sat in his chest, reopened when you texted him, now raw and bleeding as he watched you. His saliva dried in his mouth, breath catching in his throat when your head turned to meet his eyes, and he swore he watched your lips turn to a small smile.

He wondered if your smile meant you were happy to see him- or whether it was a polite show of acknowledgement. Though rather than turning your back to him, you faced him, resting your jaw in your hand. He sauntered over, his pulse still thumping against his ribs, his hands suddenly clammy and warm- like he wasn't a seasoned soldier.

Sliding in next to you, an arms' length apart, he faced forward, still not yet able to fully find your eyes; eyes he'd missed for years.

Your text came as a shock, though he couldn't deny he'd been reluctantly praying you'd reach out, change your mind, give him a second chance. It was vague, a reminder of who you were, as if he'd ever forget your name and number, and an invitation to the bar you'd made yourself comfortable in. He couldn't say no.

He said your name- a greeting, rolling off his tongue like you'd never left.

"Simon," You nodded. "Thanks for meeting me."

He finally turned his head, his black eyes finding yours with hesitation. You swallowed, nearly succumbing to the nostalgia and breaking into tears, but held strong when he nodded in response and you heard his voice for the first time in a long time.

"Surprised to hear from you. Everythin' alright? You doin' well?" He asked, still nonchalantly peering around even though he was nearly salivating at the smell of you. Still the same- his favourite scent, mixed with your addictive pheromones. It made his stomach churn.

"Yeah," You nodded shortly. "Just needed a friend. How have you been?"

"We friends now?" A hint of humour in his tone made you scoff.

"I needed someone I know- someone who knows me." Your eyes softened as you watched him, suddenly feeling guilty for inviting him.

"Knew you years ago," He started. "Not sure I know you now."

"I'm the same person, Simon," You scoffed again. "Just older."

"And married," He looked down at your hand, eyeing the silver band looped around your finger. He tried not to let his jealousy be as obviously apparent as it felt, swallowing harshly.

Your fingers immediately reached the ring, twisting it slowly for comfort like you'd always done.

"Separated," You admitted. "A few months now."

He watched your eyes begin to water, feeling resentful of the man who got to marry you- the man you chose over him and were so emotional about now.

"Still holdin' on?" He asked.

You shook your head, still holding the ring between your fingers. "I thought it would ward off any men in here. This isn't- I gave that back."

Simon nodded thoughtfully. Still, the lump of anger sat in his throat, but it was mostly jealousy. Seeing your face again reminded him of the memories he'd pushed down into his chest cavity and burned with whiskey and beer. He didn't need to be reminded that you'd walked away- he didn't even want to entertain the idea of another man touching you.

"You wanna talk about it?" His voice dripped with disinterest and reluctance. It made you chuckle.

"No," You grinned. "I'd rather drink about it."

"That I can do."

His fingers lifted as he ordered a drink, and another for you, while you smiled softly. Truthfully, your feelings for Simon had never faded. Even at the courthouse with your ex-husband, a part of you was still overseas with Simon. Though your decision to leave Simon wasn't easy, you'd suffered too much loss to stay and risk even more.

You'd settled down, naively accepted your ex-husband's proposal, and chose to leave him after nearly two years of marriage- another difficult decision, though not nearly as difficult as saying goodbye to Simon.

The more alcohol in your system, the more you began to remember; every fight, every kiss, every time he touched you. It wrapped around your heart, nostalgia-filled daydreams that evoked warmth in your stomach and pliability in your body.

Your hand reached his arm- an innocent touch at first, though his eyes narrowed at yours.

"Do I look the same?" You teased, rocking side to side, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Or do I have more wrinkles?"

He shook his head. "Still just as beautiful."

Your heart leapt, though you were speechless. Awkwardly searching for an appropriate response, you pursed your lips.

Simon tensed. "Sorry- didn't mean to-"

Your eyebrows furrowed. "It's okay. It's just been a while since I've heard that."

Simon paused, watching your body language.

"Thank you, Simon. I missed you."

The latter slipped out- a sharp jolt ran through your body as you sat up straight.

"Think you're drunk," He huffed.

You nodded, letting out a short chuckle. "I am. Doesn't mean I didn't miss you. We dated once, remember?"

He pursed his lips. "Could never forget."

After a few moments of quiet reflection, a stinging sensation in your eyes at Simon's vulnerability, you sighed.

"You always were a good guy," You huffed. "Can't say I don't regret leaving." You peered up at him, suddenly very aware that you'd finally spilled your feelings to him.

"Why did you?" He asked, cocking his head.

"I was scared," You shrugged. "Of losing you."

He squinted, before nodding. He accepted your answer, even if it didn't quite fit together in his head. He was relieved to know he hadn't done anything to push you away, that maybe there was a chance he could have you again.

"Well, I think I'll head home," You smiled.

"Let me drive you," He offered.

Your eyes met briefly, before you nodded and followed him out to his vehicle. You'd begun to fall asleep in the car- snoring lightly as Simon drove beneath streetlights and overpasses. He realized he didn't know where you lived, not since you'd moved out; against his better judgement, he decided not to wake you, but to take you back home; to his home.

He even wrapped his arms around you, lifted you from the car while you stirred in his grasp. Peering down at you, his heart clenched at your soft, sleeping face. The feel of your body in his hands again, smooth flesh against his calloused skin.

He let you take his bed; fresh sheets he hadn't slept in in months. Without crossing anymore boundaries, he left you to sleep beneath his duvet and stumbled off to the couch.

You woke not long after, immediately recognizing the bedroom you'd been put in. The same sheets, same decor; it was like you'd been transported back a few years. Only Simon wasn't beside you, and your framed photographs were no longer resting on the nightside table.

You stood to your feet, slowly, cautiously moving around the room, trying your hardest not to give in and search through his things in hopes of finding a trace of yourself there. You left the room, wandering down the familiar hallway to the living room where he was lain on the same beige couch you'd bought together.

You held back a smile- an arm strewn across his face, harsh exhales you knew meant he was still trying to lull himself to sleep. As you neared, he sat up suddenly.

"Sorry," You whispered. "I didn't mean to bother you."

He shook his head, dismissing your apology. "Y'fell asleep," He said. "Didn't know where you lived."

"It's fine." You peered around the room. Just the same but entirely different- it wasn't yours anymore. "Feels strange being here."

"'M sure," He nodded.

You watched from your position on the wall, arms crossed while he situated himself.

"Everything feels so familiar," You sighed.

He was silent, watching you take in the surroundings. It made his heart soften; a bit of resentment having melted and now replaced with desire at seeing you back where you belonged. In your shared home, with him.

"Brings back memories," He nodded.

Your cheeks reddened at the thought of memories; particularly the ones where your late nights ended in slow sex on the very couch you sat on. Staring up at the ceiling, Simon's hands roaming your body, the TV light flashing across your naked bodies.

"We had good times together," You said, turning to meet his eyes.

"Still can," He breathed.

You sighed softly; it was a mouth-watering offer, however innocent he meant it, that brought your pulse between your thighs and warmed your abdomen. But you weren't sure. You hadn't seen Simon in years, hadn't talked in years, you wondered if trying again would only hurt more than the initial breakup.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea," You sighed again.

He stood to his feet, moving closer to you.

"You texted me," He said. "Had to be a reason."

"I told you, I needed a friend-"

"Bullshit," He scoffed. "You want more than a friend, love." He neared you, so close his chest nearly touched yours. His hand gently landed on your waist, slowly pulling you closer to him. He shut his eyes, inhaling shakily at the feel of your body against his again. "Think you want me to touch you again."

"Simon-" You started, your eyes flickering to his lips.

"That's it," He smirked, nearly unnoticeably. "Missed hearin' you say my name sweetheart. Missed a lot about you, if 'm bein' honest," He pushed his face into your neck, earning a broken exhale from you when he planted soft lips on your jugular.

"Simon, please," You breathed, your reluctant hands finding his biceps while he continued to wrap himself around you like a boa constrictor.

"Don't beg for me 'less you mean it, sweetheart."

He met your eyes, waiting for you to confirm or deny; your teeth clenched your bottom lip, letting it fall as you whispered another light plea. It was quiet and held no conviction behind it, only pure lust that drove it from the back of your throat.

He pressed his lips against yours, tight fingers holding onto your waist, his other hand gliding up to your jaw. Long fingers spread the length of your throat, forcing your lips against his, waiting to hear the moans he'd missed so badly.

You couldn't help but grind yourself against him- arousal was already flooding through you just while his tongue slid into your mouth, but you needed more.

You began to lift his shirt over his head, while he grabbed it at the neck and disposed of it within seconds. Your blouse, expensive and delicate, was pulled apart at the buttons by Simon's calloused hands, which dove down to cup your breasts and squeeze with fervour.

"Missed your body," He whispered into your neck, tugging your bra down your body to reveal your breasts.

"I missed your touch," You whispered against his jaw, your lip quivering at the nostalgia. "God- I missed you touching me."

He lifted you suddenly, strong hands carrying you to the beige couch- it was like your first time all over again. Goosebumps spreading across your skin, Simon's smell invading your senses. You were breathless, emotional, overwhelmed.

He tugged your jeans down your hips, pulling your panties off as you shuffled out of them. He wasted no time burying his face between your soft thighs, rough hands holding them apart while his tongue slid against your clit.

You gasped sharply, your back lifting off the couch to meet his lips, to grind yourself against his mouth. He'd always been over-eager when it came to your pleasure, though his tongue glided against you, encircling your clit with a level of attentiveness you'd not received in years.

His hand ran up your stomach, softly squeezing your breasts, while the other massaged the pliable flesh of your thighs. He missed having you spread out for him, vulnerable beneath him. Your thighs over his shoulders, your expression of pleasure illuminated by the TV; he'd always been driven by your enthusiastic moans.

"Pussy tastes so fuckin' good, sweetheart," He said, his voice hoarse with restraint. "Just as good as I remember."

You exhaled a whine, a gush of arousal spreading through every limb as he continued his methodical massage. You felt his fingers breach your pussy, slowly but surely stretching you out around him, a strained exhale leaving his mouth.

"Fuck," He whispered, leaning forward to connect his lips to your clit once more.

"Yes, Simon," You breathed into the silence. "Shit- you know just how I like it," You gasped.

His fingers curled inside you, his tongue still flicking quickly over your clit. He'd tasted you so many times, watched you come undone on his tongue- he could pinpoint the moment you were close to cumming. Your pussy fluttering around his fingers, squeezing so tight he nearly couldn't move them, your body writhing with pleasure, lips frozen in a gasp.

He'd been grinding into the softness of the couch, attempting to relieve some of the painful arousal. With each stroke of his fingers, his hips jerked forward, imagining himself deep inside you, your juices coating his cock.

When you came on his fingers, his eyes had flickered to your face, watching you combust with firework-like pleasure, galaxies clouding your vision while he watched with awe.

You exhaled, sitting up to make eye contact with him- he crawled over you like a hungry animal, one hand undoing the belt constricting his pants while the other held himself above you.

"Missed the taste of you," He whispered, his lips inches from yours. "Bein' inside you."

His voice was shaky with desire, a painful erection he wanted to bury inside you only throbbing when you'd chew on your bottom lip.

"I want you inside me," You said in return, watching his eyes close as he digested your words.

"Christ-" He scoffed. "You miss my cock, love? Miss havin' it deep inside you?"

His fingers wrapped around your throat again, watching you nod enthusiastically.

"I do- always have," You breathed. "Please," You whispered, another plea that nearly made him cum right there.

He yanked his pants down his hips, his impressive erection momentarily exposed before he gripped your thigh and yanked it to his waist. You felt the soft head of his cock gently probe your pussy before sliding in- smooth and quick, before he was buried to the hilt, connected so perfectly like you were made for him.

His head dropped, a low groan of satisfaction escaping him before he adjusted his hips and looked up at you.

"Fuckin' hell," He shook his head, situating his hands so he could dive closer, press his body against yours. "Stay right there," He insisted.

You tightened your thighs around his hips, your hands gripping onto the bulging muscles of his back, flexing and moving as he fought his impending orgasm. Your fingernails inadvertently scraped against his skin- you knew he loved it, knew it sent him over the edge.

He moved, a thrust that was uncertain and haphazard, but intentional enough to make your lips part. He was so deep, his pubic bone grinding against your clit- it sent a shiver up your spine.

"Too tight," he mumbled against your mouth. "So fuckin' wet."

He began thrusting, harsh and poignant, grinding into you. Your body rocked with each movement, finding yourself bouncing your hips back to meet him halfway. He'd begun to perspire, sweat dotting his forehead, his lips parted as he huffed.

"Simon," You murmured, pressing your lips to his neck as he thrusted into you.

"Tell me it's mine," He grunted. "This cunt is mine- you're mine."

Your eyes met- even if he'd insisted while inside you, you both knew it was true. You were his, he was yours, no matter the outcome.

"I'm yours," You nodded, "All yours."

He kissed you again, forceful and passionate, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, your stomach tightening as he rubbed against your clit.

Another orgasm overtook you- in turn, he began to reach his peak, desperately searching your eyes, watching you gasp and moan on his cock, struggle to breathe while he pounded into you.

"'M close, love," He breathed.

"Cum inside me," You spat out, clinging to him with all four limbs while he wrapped a hand around your throat.

His thrusts grew sloppy, slow- a long, low grunt from his mouth let you know he was cumming; burying his cock as deep as possible, hips jutting forward with every jolt of pleasure. He groaned into your mouth, a sloppy kiss as you felt his warm cum coat your walls. He exhaled, sitting back, slowly easing out of you while his cum began to drip down your ass. He used a finger to push it back inside you, a sly grin over his lips as he did, and helped you sit up.

A quick clean-up, change of clothes and a glass of water later, the two of you settled in your old bed, your old room. His arm tangled over your side, holding you against his body like you'd escape in his sleep, and you fell asleep with him- like it always should've been.

#cod mw2 #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod mwii #ghost smut #mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #strlingsavwrites #call of duty

[strlingsav]

Bodyguard

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Bodyguard AU: Simon is assigned as your personal protection.

Requested: Anonymous

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

You were always composed, even among the worst of situations. Regardless of the weight on your shoulders, the stress of your career, you carried it with ease.

Your work was full of lighthearted conversations, asking simple questions and giving shallow answers. It was never deeper than that, and you had no trouble navigating nuanced conversations. You always kept a solid, agreeable disposition, not easily swayed by outward forces; you had no other choice.

Though when you first laid eyes on him- your personal bodyguard, you felt the composure crack just a bit. Enough that you couldn't help your eyes following him as he strode through the hotel lobby. Your first meeting had forced a wave of heat over your body, when he met your gaze and introduced himself with an unanticipated, British accent, and hardened voice. He'd caught your eye, forced you into an uncomfortably vulnerable position, which wasn't usual for you.

He was harsh, a bit blunt- but you didn't mind. You were familiar with the ex-military type of men that usually found themselves in that line of work. Stoic, reserved, but intimidating. You liked your privacy, not answering mindless questions or making idle conversation- nothing like the hollow prodding of foreign delegates.

He was no different than the others before him, aside from the sinful thoughts that crossed your mind when you laid eyes on him. He made it a point to keep distance between you, only tending to you when you asked, no polite conversation required. You didn't expect any less, not from a foreign national who likely had no interest in making conversation with a diplomat.

You'd been in and out of meetings the entire week, driven around by the mountain of a man. He hadn't left your side, suited in a kevlar vest and carrying a handgun. He'd watched you bury yourself in your work, dig into the unpleasant parts of your job that needed to be done. He admired that kind of work ethic, even if you were a foreigner.

Your conversations were brief and uninviting. It was easy to discern his distaste for small-talk. He'd built a wall around himself, that much was evident, but it only spurred your desire to delve into unsavoury territory. You saw yourself in him, a reflection of someone who'd closed themselves off from meaningful relationships, an effort to remain unbound and free from complications.

The week had flown by. Little by little, you came to see glimpses of his personality, what made him chuckle, what he liked and disliked. It was vague, but enough for you to come to enjoy- inadvertently. You were lonely, there was no room for denial there, and in your vulnerable state, you'd found yourself wanting more.

That much was a shock. Though, you'd also kept your distance, not allowing yourself to be caught staring, remaining composed even if your heart was pounding in his presence. The added stress of an upcoming dinner didn't help your fragile state.

It was common for foreign politicians to host dinners, welcoming you to their country while promoting the image of peace. It was a tradition that you'd grown used to and learned to tolerate regardless of the strain it put on you.

It sneaked up, between conferences and meetings; a dinner scheduled with the Prime Minister's associates, and you couldn't be a minute late.

You'd already finished with your hair and makeup, zipping yourself into the tight dress until you couldn't reach above your shoulders. You were frustrated and already running behind your tight schedule. You let an exasperated sigh leave your lips before you called for Simon.

"Everythin' alright?" He asked, cracking the door.

You sighed again, walking to meet him halfway.

"I can't do the zipper up," You said. "Would you mind?"

He'd seen you in every state; half-asleep, post-shower, even casual dress- but the sight of you in a dress that highlighted all the right places made his knees weak. He couldn't meet your eyes, not for a moment while he blinked away the thoughts of you that ambushed him.

He nodded briskly, and you spun around while moving your hair to allow his fingers to do-up the rest of the closure. His fingertips brushed the skin on your back, feeling the silky texture beneath his rough hands. You forced yourself not to shiver, not to give in to the warmth crawling it's way down your abdomen.

"Thanks," You nodded.

You tugged at the dress that sat on your curves, settling it appropriately over your cleavage and hips. Your feet slipped into heels, offering Simon a quick, haphazard smile full of unseen nerves.

"Let's go," You nodded, grabbing your purse before leaving the hotel room with Simon following close behind.

He drove you to your meeting. He'd kept quiet while driving, his hand clinging to the steering wheel, sneaking glances of you in the rear view mirror. He could see you fixing your lipstick in your pocket mirror, one knee hooked over the other, lips rubbing the colour together.

He couldn't deny, he imagined those heels strung over his shoulders, maybe even digging into his back- though his head twitched while he forced himself to focus.

You were no better; your eyes had been studying the side of his head, drawn further down to the tattoos showing on his forearm. You watched him from your spot in the backseat, painfully willing yourself not to imagine him hovering over you, buried between your thighs, but it was a useless endeavour.

It took you off guard, finding yourself so flustered in his presence that it was difficult to manage simple conversation. You were grateful he didn't talk much, liked the silence as much as you.

Throughout dinner, you could feel him watching. His eyes locked in on you, studying your face as you smiled and laughed at the uninteresting conversation in front of you.

Your eyes darted to Simon's, finding his gaze already on you. Regardless of your preference for privacy, you felt a connection. A longing, for something more than cheap discussions and placid smiles. It could've been the wine, or delusions caused by stress, but it distracted you.

Simon's domineering stare never left you, not within the few hours it took to finish your meal, and during the conversation that followed.

Ordinarily, you'd think nothing of it- if anything, it would be expected, or a good choice of personal protection; but the stiffness in his stance, eyes surveilling your body, the hand that touched the small of your back as he guided you from the restaurant- your gut told you he wanted more.

You did indulge more than a few glasses of wine near the end, knowing you'd share a ride back to your hotel with Simon. It was liquid courage, filling your veins in the hopes that you'd be able to tolerate the ten-minute drive without feeling flustered.

As he opened the door for you, welcoming you back to the empty hotel room, you stopped just inside.

Your heart was pounding against your rib cage- the wine causing a bit of blurriness in your vision and a boost of confidence upon seeing him so close, only a foot outside your room. It made avoiding temptation so much more difficult than you were equipped to handle.

"Would you like a drink?" You asked, your hand resting on the door as you held it open.

"'M on duty," He shook his head, stepping back.

"Not for much longer," You replied, checking the time over your shoulder.

His weight shifted, wondering if it was worth the risk, if you were worth the risk. As his eyes wandered down your frame, he sighed quietly. Willpower was his strong suit, but after a week of watching you torment him with your silk bathrobe and tight-fitting dresses, he'd been worn down.

"Alright," He conceded with a nod.

He stepped inside, ridding himself of his utility belt and vest, making himself comfortable on the hard armchair across from the couch. He wasn't one for much conversation, and your request came as a surprise.

He wondered if maybe you'd offered him a drink to thank him- it was your last night under his watch, after all; though a less disciplined part of him hoped it would be an invitation to have his fantasies fulfilled.

"You prefer Scotch or Bourbon?" You asked, gazing over your shoulder at him.

"Bourbon," He replied.

He was leaned over, elbows on his thighs as he watched you rummage for two glasses and pour the bourbon over ice.

You joined him in the sitting area, handing him the glass before taking a seat across from him. Your feet curled up under you, resting your elbow on the back of the couch while you looked at him.

"Have you been doing this long?" You asked, finishing a sip.

"Few years, after I left the military."

You smiled softly, "I thought you were a vet. How long?"

"Too long," He answered, fingers clasping the glass as he watched you.

Your eyes narrowed at him.

"Did you have many deployments?"

"More than a few."

"Must've been hard to be away from your family."

You diverted your gaze to the bourbon in your glass, waiting with baited breath for his answer. You hadn't seen a wedding ring, though the times he went without gloves were few and far between.

"No family," He shook his head. "Don't have time for it."

"Your wife, then?"

"If you wanna ask me somethin', prefer you just ask it," He was leaning even closer, his stare was agonizingly precise.

You could feel the taunting smirk on his face, the tone of his voice inviting you to find out what his intentions were, how he felt about you. He could read you well, notice the changes in your demeanour, your breathing.

You took in a deep breath as you wondered if he was silently hoping you'd get on with it already. You liked getting to know him, though. If not to pry in his personal life so you knew just how far things could go.

The look in his eyes, one of focus and unwavering dedication to give you all of his attention, had you trembling with desire. Unravelling your legs, you strode to stand before him, and he sat up straighter.

It was a risk, though most of the risk had been diminished when he flirted with you, practically offered himself to you. And when his hands wrapped around your thighs, you knew exactly what he wanted.

"Do you have a wife? Girlfriend?" You asked, leaning in closer.

"If I did, wouldn't have come in here."

"Fair enough."

"You gonna keep askin' me questions or take this dress off?"

His hands had a firm grasp on your thighs, keeping you pinned to the spot.

Your hands landed on his shoulders. "Help me?"

He unzipped your dress, his hands helping to slide it down your shoulders. Once you'd slid it down your body, he looked you over, pulling you onto his lap.

"Couldn't take my eyes off you in that fuckin' dress," He muttered, leaning into your neck.

You hummed with satisfaction, "I noticed."

"S'pose I ain't subtle when I want somethin'."

Your cheeks flushed- maybe the drinks, or maybe the feeling of his hands on your body, but his words seemed to cover you in a fog of lust.

"I like that," You grinned.

He lifted the mask to the bridge of his nose, his lips now visible. It was the most you'd seen of his face, aside from his eyes, and it was pleasing. It was mostly as expected- stubble, full lips; though your admiring was interrupted when he pressed his lips to your neck.

He gave wet, open-mouthed kisses, soothed by his tongue, teeth grazing your silky flesh. You'd let your head fall back, eyes shutting as you savoured the goosebumps he coaxed from your body.

The warmth between your thighs spread, engulfing every limb until it felt like you were on fire- especially when his hand reached around, taking a handful of your ass with rough palms.

Your hands, in turn, slid down his chest, feeling the hardness of his pecs, mountains of muscle across his body. He was warm beneath your touch, feverish with lust, burning up just at the thought of your body against his. He was pushing his groin up into you; heavy breaths in your neck, hands grabbing whatever they could reach.

One of his hands slithered between your thighs, calloused fingers finding the crest of your pussy to apply pressure. Your lips moulded together, a soft hum of pleasure escaping in a sigh through your nose.

Still, he leaned into your neck, had a handful of your backside in his grip, manhandling you to grind your pussy over his fingers.

"Just like that," You moaned softly, gentle pants of pleasure fanning against his neck.

He only sighed quietly in response, his groin pressed against you, hips rocking into you. Already, you were leaking through your panties, the fabric sticking to the slick lubrication dripping between your thighs.

"You're wet already, sweetheart," He grumbled in your ear.

"I know," You moaned faintly. "I need more."

His hand disappeared for a moment, belt buckle clanking together, unzipping his pants as he pulled his cock from his briefs. Your eyes lifted to his, perching forward, using your hand to gently glide his cock into your entrance.

He buried his face in your neck as your palm guided him to the tight embrace of your pussy- ridges of his cock sliding past the velvety barrier with ease.

"Slow," He grumbled. "Fuck me-" He choked out.

The tip of his cock just barely pushed past the slick lining of your pussy, and he dropped his head back. In unison, groans of pleasure left your lips as you lowered yourself onto his cock, opening yourself up until he was finally buried inside you.

"Christ, sweetheart," He muttered, his hands finding your hips.

You didn't stop, moving your hips forward as he lifted his head to find your eyes. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, harsh grunts leaving his chest.

"You feel good," He mumbled.

"Tell me how good," You breathed, your hands meeting around the back of his neck.

"Real fuckin' good," He grunted.

His hips inadvertently bucked up into you, causing a flash of a smile to cross your lips, before he reached down and rubbed his fingers over your clit.

Your pace faltered for a moment, a quiet whimper escaping, before you pulled yourself even closer, grinding on his lap. Your arm wrapped around his neck, desperately chasing the friction his fingers offered, the depth of him inside you.

His fingers had a bruising hold on the flesh of your waist, his face nearly buried in your breasts as you rocked into him.

Low grunts of pleasure were muffled against your skin, his body rigid while he resisted the urge to climax. Your lips parted as puffs of air escaped, fighting to catch your breath between the pleasure and exertion.

He went to pin you to the couch cushions, set the pace himself, when you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"I get what I need," You exhaled, still grinding your hips against his. "Then, you can have what you want."

He was pleasantly surprised. He'd never been one for giving up control, though watching your hips move, your breasts in his face- it wasn't so difficult to sit back and let you ride his cock.

"Get on with it, then," He said, leaving a harsh smack on your ass.

"Use your fingers," You shot back, nearly breathless.

"You ever say please?" He cocked his head.

"Please," You spat out.

You watched his lip twitch, then felt his rough fingers rub circles over your clit. You hunched over, leaning on his shoulders for support, smelling the faint scent of his cologne, listening to the deep breaths he was desperately trying to camouflage.

It was enough to bring your climax to fruition, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure engulfed you, soft tremors in your legs and hips as it migrated outward.

Your head fell back, lips open in a gasp that had been suffocated by your heavy breathing. Your fingers dug into the taught muscle of his shoulders, toes curling while your body hit plateaus of pleasure.

"That's it," He drawled. "There it is."

You whimpered softly as the pleasure dissipated, leaving you soft and pliable, relaxed. Then, he moved you to the cushions, pulling your legs around his torso.

He drove his cock into you, feeling the after-effects of your orgasm in the form of short contractions. Each time your pussy squeezed his cock, he was pushed even closer to cumming. His breathing sped up, elbows digging into the couch as he buried his cock in you.

You were useless, lifeless against the couch, hanging onto his neck as he thrusted into you. Breaths fanning your chest and collarbones as he buried his head into you, groaning harshly.

He hurriedly pulled out of you, tugging his cock a few times before releasing his cum over your stomach. A few twitches, low groans, soft exhales; his eyes met yours in the aftermath of his orgasm.

You laid back, relaxing as he brought you your robe and a towel. You quickly cleaned off, tying your robe around your waist as he tugged his vest over his head and grabbed his gear.

"Thanks," You nodded, your eyes barely meeting his. "For this past week, and for that."

He huffed- a small expression of amusement.

"Let me know next time you're in town."

"Probably won't be for another few years," You sighed, your hand holding the door for him once again. "If I had a reason to, I'd stop by."

He then grinned, "Here," He rummaged through the fatigue pocket of his vest, handing you a card.

It had his name and a phone number, not listed whether it was personal or business.

"If you find yourself in need of my services. Anytime."

You smiled, taking the card and examining it.

"How's next week sound?"

"Good."

"I look forward to it."

He left you with a short goodbye, thumbs hooked in his vest as he wandered off, giving one last look over his shoulder before disappearing.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley smut #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ghost x you

[strlingsav]

May I request reader being saved/ rescued by ghost, then maybe otw home they're stuck at a safe house for the night and it gets spicy? Like ghost is infatuated w her and she w him cus he saved her 😳

Yes ofc 😌

Saviour

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— You're stuck in a safe-house with Ghost.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

You'd already stripped from the sopping-wet, outer-layers of your gear, letting it sit in front of the wood stove to dry out. The weather was reaching the negatives, frost forming on the windows of the safehouse, a howling wind pushing against the crumbling walls.

Your extremities were numb, tingling as the cold seeped into your bones. The run-down building didn't help; cracks in the foundation and decaying floorboards let in the cold.

You were seated on an old wool blanket, one you'd found while clearing the house, which you'd wrapped haphazardly over you. Your elbows rested on your knees, thighs tucked against your chest to try and contain the little body heat remaining.

The heat of the fire warmed you, superficially, but you hoped it might ward off hypothermia. Your teeth chattered, the pauses of warm flames sending short bouts of shivers up your spine.

Your eyelids were heavy, half-shut as you stared at the fire, crackling wood that had embers landing by your feet. You didn't bother to move, merely watching the glowing pieces of charcoal as they fizzled out in front of you.

Ghost was hunched over on a rickety chair to the side of you, sitting in silence, cleaning his rifle. Your eyes would shift to his form every so-often, watching, studying. You were almost envious of the gun in his hands- he handled it with such care, knew it like the back of his hand.

Your mind hadn't stopped running through the entirety of the evening. You were grateful; he'd saved your life without a moment's hesitation- but you hadn't spoken since. It made things more tense than usual, especially once you'd realized you felt a bit more for Ghost than just respect.

He would sneak glances your way, wondering if you were still frozen. He'd pulled you from the river while escaping when evac couldn't make it in time. You'd slipped, fallen into the icy water and clung to the bank all while avoiding enemy fire. There was a rainfall of bullets pouring down on the two of you, yet he still managed to yank you from the freezing water.

He dragged you along, despite your adamant pestering, demanding him to leave you and continue. Adrenaline was pouring into every cell in your body at that point, hell-bent on making sure at least one of you made it back alive. He ignored you, as any sane man would, and ordered you to rid yourself of the soaking-wet clothes once you'd stepped inside the old building.

You were too cold to feel shame or embarrassment when you stripped down to your undershirt and panties. Though once you started to thaw out, your rational mind returning in pieces, you did feel a bit insecure. There was no place to hide, to find modesty while trapped inside the four walls with him. Even the wool blanket didn't allow for much coverage, it was nearly in tatters.

You didn't notice him staring, didn't see the quick glances up at you. He was concerned for you, of course, though the sight of your bare skin had his chest in a tight grip, his breathing in shambles. He'd never seen you so vulnerable. He had to hold his breath when you tugged your tactical pants down your thighs, look away when he could see the curve of your backside hugged by your panties.

Though, your eyes did meet, through the smoke-filled room, and you cleared your throat in an attempt to break the silence.

"Thanks," You muttered, your jaw managing to fight off the chattering for a moment.

"What for?" He asked, gruff and unwelcoming.

"Saving my ass," You looked over your shoulder. "You should've left me, though."

"Wouldn't be easy to explain, you goin' missin'."

You furrowed your brows. It was a disappointing answer, one you weren't expecting- but you weren't delusional. At least not entirely. You didn't think you'd get a warm, heartfelt response, though something more personal, intimate- which was highly unlikely, would've sufficed.

He was silent as he stared at you, hands slow as he continued polishing the barrel of his rifle. Your teeth still chattered, and you pulled your wet hair from your face in an attempt to feel the warmth of the fire a bit better. He let out a sigh, his shoulders falling when he realized you weren't warming up as quickly as he would've liked.

"Christ," He muttered, standing from his position to sit behind you.

His massive thighs encased yours, his chest meeting your back with a huff. He'd taken off most of his gear when you settled in, but lifted his shirt over his head to press his bare skin to yours. He wrapped an arm around your chest, pulling you back into him.

"You're bloody freezin'," He murmured in your ear.

You listened to the breathing in your ear, basked in the warmth that radiated off his chest. You let your head fall back, resting on his shoulder, and hour eyes glanced up at the mask on his face.

He grew more distant, a bit hazy as you felt drowsiness threaten to pull you under. Your eye lids began to flutter shut, the rhythm of his breaths lulling you to sleep.

"Stay awake," He said, tugging you back from the brink of sleep. "Not in the clear yet."

You sighed, shifting to your side as you cuddled into his chest. It may have been the tide of sleep pulling you back and forth, or pure delusion caused by early stages of hypothermia, but you didn't care how desperate you looked. He was radiating heat, allowing you to fold yourself against him- it was an opportunity you couldn't resist.

"You're warm," You uttered, punctuated by a soft sigh.

"Skin-to-skin'll warm you up faster."

He studied at you, as inconspicuously as he could, watching your chest rise and fall. The curve of your lashes, cheekbones highlighted in the orange glow- he'd always found you beautiful, even more so as you laid against him. A part of him was glad he'd stripped down with you, been able to feel your skin against his.

"Should I take off my shirt?" You asked, innocently enough, though you felt the pause, the hesitation in his words.

"Might have to."

You reached for the hem of your T-shirt, lifting it over your head before falling back against him. He was right, it was warm- like lying against a furnace. You exhaled, relief flooding through you.

"Better?" He asked.

You nodded. Your hands had come up to cover your chest, folding your arms. Your curled yourself up into a fetal position.

"Thanks," You muttered again.

He'd struck your confidence down, unintentionally, but his eyes on your body reduced you to hiding from him. Even in a life-or-death situation, it wasn't ideal to be nearly naked in front of your Lieutenant, especially not after coming to terms with your feelings for him. It didn't make it any easier that he'd saved your life, and didn't expect anything in return. You hadn't quite caught up to the reality of the situation and likely wouldn't until the feeling in your toes returned.

Your hands pressed to his chest, desperate for more heat, yearning for it while your body still shivered intermittently.

"You just nervous or still cold?"

Your eyes lifted to his, "Why would I be nervous?"

"Don't be daft," He replied.

He'd seen right through your attempt at playing innocent, trying not to open the door for anything other than professionalism. You couldn't afford to let your feelings be known, not with your entire body on display- you were far too vulnerable already.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before," You brushed him off.

"Don't think I've seen you naked before, Sergeant. I'd remember."

It slipped out- a moment of weakness while he gazed down at you. He'd crossed a line, an inadvertently risqué remark that caught your attention. Though he could see your lips part, your eyes dart between his, it didn't stop his heart from racing, choking back the urge to push you away.

"Didn't realize I was so memorable," You whispered.

"Cold's gettin' in your head."

He tried to turn back, revert to the abrasive man you knew him as, but it was too late. You'd already stuck your foot in the door, caught a glimpse of how he really felt.

"I don't think so," You muttered, curling into him further, your hands landing on his thighs. "You said it yourself."

He sighed, shutting his eyes as he tried to ignore how hot your hands were over his thighs. The sultry tone of your voice, your eyes glimmering in the light.

"That right?" He asked, a teasing cadence to his words. He wasn't one for falling into a trap.

"You did tell me to strip," You said, letting your head fall to his shoulder again. "Am I on your mind, Lieutenant?"

He clenched his jaw, watching your chest rise and fall from below him, your head tilted up to watch him. He couldn't resist, in any imaginable scenario you'd always get the best of him, whether he liked it or not.

He wondered if it was the cold, making your words out to be sultry and inviting, but when his hands met your waist and you fell into him, your beautiful eyes gazing up at him, he didn't care what it was; he just wanted you.

"All the fuckin' time," He said, low and harsh in your ear.

You swallowed. His words had immediately brought the remnants of heat in your body to the surface. It rushed over your face, settled between your thighs- everywhere you didn't particularly need it.

"Anything in particular?"

Your voice was reduced to a whisper, though you still had enough energy to pursue whatever it was going on between you.

"Fishin' for compliments?" He retorted, a smug tone to his voice.

"I want to know what you imagine when you think about me."

He slid his hands down to your thighs, cool to the touch, but under his palms it felt nice. He was burning up- from desire or the fire, he didn't know.

"Be easier to list what I haven't thought about, sweetheart."

You shivered again- this time, because of the callouses scraping against your smooth skin, the honeyed words that dripped out of his mouth. His rough hands kneaded the flesh of your thighs, moving slowly across your legs. You whimpered, a deep expression of impatience, and he chuckled in your ear.

"I've thought about you," You confessed, watching his head tilt to see you better. "Especially now."

He paused, "I ain't lookin' for a reward, if that's what you're gettin' at."

"No," You shook your head, your hands landing over his. "I've just been waiting for you to touch me."

"Hypothermia ain't enough to keep you subdued," He stated, watching you wriggle yourself back against him, desperate for more.

"I want you to touch me," You whispered.

It was a tie between wanting to stay within the norm and let yourself fall into the abyss of your desire. The threat of hypothermia was a good excuse, one you'd relied on to give you the edge you needed to admit to your feelings.

Your confession sent a rush of blood to his groin, enough that you could feel him hardening, pressing into the small of your back. You could hear him muttering curse words under his breath, especially as his hands ghosted over the seat of your panties.

"I like seein' you spread out for me like this," He said, leaning forward as his masked mouth brushed against your ear. "You want me t' touch you?" It was a rhetorical question, one spurred by the desire to hear you admit it again, words he'd only imagined you saying.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin, your hand leaving Ghost's thigh to rest over his. You pushed it down, finally, enough pressure over your pussy to make you whine.

"Please," You said, staring up at him.

He let out a short groan, hooking his legs under your ankles to pull them apart, spreading your thighs wider over his. Without your guidance, he stroked two fingers over your clit, still clothed, but it made your head fall back.

You let out a short breath of relief, planting your palms on either side of his legs as he moved his fingers in small circles.

"Yes," You breathed, arching your back into him.

He took your praise and continued, pulling your panties aside to press his fingers directly to the hot flesh of your pussy. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, swallowing down groans of satisfaction upon feeling how slick and soft you were.

His fingers slipped down, two finding your seeping entrance while his thumb continued rubbing over your clit. He pushed his fingers deeper inside of you, his free hand wrapping over your chest again, reaching blindly to squeeze and palm your breasts.

"You warm yet?" He asked, the rumble of his baritone in your ear. He knew just how to rile you up

"Don't-" You stuttered, "Don't stop."

"You're soakin' my fingers," He said, mostly to himself, though he heard the whimper that left your lips. "Listen to that."

You weren't oblivious to the sounds of your pussy as Ghost's fingers hooked inside you, coaxing your orgasm with patience and consistency. Usually, you would flushed with embarrassment, but Ghost's heavy breathing in your ear, his hand clinging to you, you didn't care.

"I told you," You said, lifting your head to meet his eyes. "I've been waiting."

He hummed, using his free hand to lift his mask over the bump on his nose, pressing his lips against your neck. Your lips fell open, moaning softly, panting into the cool air.

"Been waitin' on you, sweetheart."

Your stomach tensed, your fingers digging into the floorboards as you rolled your hips against his fingers. Your pussy fluttered around his fingers, feeling the beginnings of your orgasm.

"Ghost," You slurred, your hips rocking into his hand. "Right there- please," You whined.

He nudged your cheek with his nose, forcing you to leave your neck vulnerable to his lips and tongue. He slid his tongue over the tendons, following with a kiss to your pulse.

He sucked in a harsh breath when he felt your pussy constrict his fingers, wrapping around him with a tightness that nearly halted his movements.

"You cummin' on my fingers?" He asked.

You nodded, holding your breath as your abs tightened. Your body twisted in his grasp, gasping for air once the overwhelming pleasure had passed and you were left weak and boneless.

You turned on your knees to straddle his thighs. Your eyes were drawn to the sight of his flushed lips, wet with saliva. You leaned forward, engulfing his lips with yours, immediately throwing yourself against him as your tongue slid into his mouth.

He moved his hands to your waist, holding tightly while you unintentionally ground your hips into his erection, making him moan quietly into your mouth.

Your fingers slid down his chest, reaching his belt. You pulled away to look at his eyes- dark, nearly unnoticeable beneath the charcoal paint, but you could see his light eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. You'd never seen his face; up until now it was a well-kept secret, but the lower-half of his face was intoxicating, enough to keep your attention.

He offered you his lips out of pure lust; in awe of you, how your body reacted to his touch. He wanted to feel you with his lips, his tongue, glide it over every inch of your skin- he'd settle for the restrictions holding him back now, but made a promise to himself to taste you, all of you.

"You want more?" He asked you, a bit surprised that you'd reached for his belt.

"I want all of you," You whispered.

Your words hit his ears with genuine desire, making him clench his jaw. The vision of you beneath him, his cock penetrating the walls of your pussy- it made him shudder.

"Go on then, sweetheart. Take it."

You freed his cock, shifting upwards, your chest against his jaw as he guided his cock to your pussy, sliding back against your clit to find the tight walls inside you.

You lowered yourself, choking back a loud moan, your heart battering your rib cage.

"Can y'take it all?" He asked, his voice strained.

You forced yourself down, effectively stretching your walls as he opened you up. You settled on his thighs, his cock buried so deep inside you it felt like he was shifting your organs to make room.

He let out a satisfied groan, praising your efforts with a grin.

"There it is," He grumbled.

Your groans made his cock twitch inside you, and as he inadvertently tugged you forward you grunted.

"You're big," You whispered, your forehead falling against the hard material of his mask. "S-so big."

"You're too fuckin' tight," He said. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart."

You lifted yourself, perching forward ever-so slightly just to bring yourself back down on his cock.

Once you were comfortable, you set a slow pace, one that allowed you to feel just how deep he could go, how good he felt as he massaged your walls.

"Just like that," He uttered, his eyes falling to your chest, watching your breasts recoil with every bounce.

Your eyes shut, burying your face against the side of his, your hands wrapping around his shoulders as you held him close.

"No," He said, his hand reaching your throat with a firm hold.

He pushed you back. "Wanna see how you look ridin' me."

You shivered again, your pussy squeezing around him, making his lips part with a groan. His hand offered a gentle squeeze, moving up to hold your jaw while you lifted yourself up and back down on his cock, before grinding back and forth.

"Oh my God," You drawled, your eyes shutting as you devoured the friction of his trousers against your clit, the head of his cock dragging through your walls.

His other hand slid down to your ass, taking a handful and forcefully pushing you over his lap to grind against him.

"Bloody hell," He grunted. "Been waitin' for you," He said again, in the midst of a lust-induced haze. "For a long fuckin' time."

"I'm yours," You replied, sweet whimpers hitting his ears. "All yours."

"Christ, sweetheart. Keep talkin' like that- g'na make me cum."

His words drew your orgasm from you, built up from the friction and irresistible feeling of his cock filling you- you collapsed against him with a faint cry, your hips still as your pussy fluttered, contractions shooting through your pussy and lower back.

"Fuck," He cursed. "Better move."

You whimpered as you lifted off his cock, watching as he ran his hand up and down it.

Your hand reached out to replace his, a firm fist squeezing his cock- his warm cum landed over the expanse of your stomach, dripping down over your pubis.

Your head fell back, taking in deep breaths, still reeling from your high as he tucked himself back in his trousers.

His hands reached out to grab your waist with a firm hold, heavy breaths fanning over your sticky skin.

"I meant it," You said, your hands sliding over his shoulders. "Thank you."

"Couldn't leave you behind."

"I know," You nodded.

"You're too important t'leave behind."

A small smile grew over your face.

"I think I'm warm enough now," You said.

"I know," He said back. "Just want you here."

You fell forward, hanging onto him while his hands wrapped around your waist to hold you against him.

Taglist: @mxtokko

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley smut #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ghost x you

[strlingsav]

Ghost finds reader’s bitch button 🥵🥰 absolutely rails them dumb

Ah yes- another excellent prompt.

Punishment

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Your Lieutenant reprimands you with unorthodox methods.

Warnings: Semi-rough sex. Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Your heel tapped rhythmically against the floor, attempting to keep yourself calm amidst the chaos that was about to ensue. Your arms were crossed over your chest, staring at the blank wall of Lieutenant Riley's office, waiting with torturous anticipation for him to arrive.

You'd been reprimanded before; it wasn't the threat of punishment that had your hands trembling, or your throat dry, it was Ghost. His refusal to see the truth to the circumstances- you were right, he was wrong. He'd never admit it, never kneel to anyone beneath him, but you were just as hard-headed. You were prepared to fight tooth and nail for what was right.

He'd left after ordering you to his office, likely meeting with Price to discuss reasonable punishment for your offence. Your jaw clenched at the thought of the two men discussing the issue at hand, without your input. No doubt, Ghost would misconstrue the truth, and hide his own mistakes behind the guise of giving you the benefit of the doubt.

The door opened; at any other time, you would've turned to meet his gaze, offer an inviting smile, but not now.

"Sergeant," Ghost's voice boomed around the corners of the office, hitting your ears like a goddamned wall. "Fucked up, this time."

He moved around you, heavy boots thudding on the ground as he took a seat in the chair across from you.

"All due respect, Lieutenant, I'm not sure you're seeing the big picture."

His eyes were dull, narrowed as you expressed defiance. You could practically outline the scowl beneath the mask when the words left your mouth.

"That so?" He hummed, nodding. "Maybe you ain't seein' the big picture," He said. He slammed his fist against the desk, which ordinarily would've spiked your blood pressure, but you'd been on edge for far too long already. "Outright insubordination," He paused, "And actin' like a fuckin' git."

You inhaled deeply, your nostrils flaring as you tried to contain your temper. Your usual tells of frustration were worse than they'd ever been; your eye twitching, lips pursed, fingers digging into your skin, your temperature rising by the second.

"That's what you think," You said, leaning forward. "Your ass would've been on the block if I hadn't stepped in."

"That's what I know- don't care about anything else."

"You aren't-"

"Shut the fuck up, Sergeant," He growled. "'M gettin' tired of babysittin' you. You need to get your shite in order."

You set your jaw again, your eyes honing in on his with a venomous glare. He must've noticed your glare, the tell-tale signs of a short fuse about to blow.

"That piss you off?" He asked, leaning both elbows on the desk.

"To be candid, Lieutenant, you are pissing me off."

"Good. I have half a mind to do your fuckin' head in."

You could hardly stand it now- the pure rage enveloping every nerve. You were burning hot, his words covering your entire body with sizzling anger. You grimaced, standing to your feet. You towered over his seated form, and his eyes followed you with frustrating nonchalance as you rose above him.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Should've left you, you ungrateful prick," You spat. "Am I dismissed, or are you not done getting off yet?"

He was quiet, almost calm- it worried you more than you'd let on. When he lost his temper, the shouting and swearing was tolerable, understandable. It was the silence that sent a wave of nausea over you, made your heart fall to your gut.

"You finished?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.

You fixed your posture, standing up straight as he eyed you down.

You nodded, curt and sharp.

"Sit down."

Your tongue ran over your teeth, a mechanism you developed to hide whatever expression was threatening to ruin your cover; in this case, a flustered frown.

"Y'saved my arse, but you went against a direct order. Can't have that, not in this line o' work."

You nodded again, staying silent as your arms guarded your chest.

His tone had turned soft, almost understanding, empathetic. The contrast threw you off- you wanted to run, escape the small room before you fell victim to the unfamiliar, muted cadence in his voice.

"I understand," You spoke up, levelling your eyes with his. You wanted to be resolute, not give into the vulnerability between you.

"Not sure you do. Not yet, at least."

You tried not to appear intrigued, interested in his train of thought. Your brow quirked up, seemingly on its own.

"Don't think a standard punishment is fittin' for you."

You were concerned now, and it was branching out to every limb; heavy and suffocating, strangling your previous agreement to remain stoic.

"What's that mean?" You asked, trying to conceal the tremble in your voice.

"Means- I think you're actin' out, feelin' frustrated, pent-up." His expression remained unchanged, watching you closely. "Think you want my attention, Sergeant. All my attention."

You felt your jaw fall slack, unsure whether he was truly suggesting what you were interpreting. Your stomach lurched at the thought of your Lieutenant showing you attention. You'd seen the defined muscles of his arms, no doubt you'd thought about how big he was, how his hands felt on your waist when he corrected your form; but you'd never imagined it would come to fruition.

"What are you suggesting, Sir?" You asked, desperately hoping your tone sounded offended rather than interested.

"Think you'd benefit from some discipline. Not a thought in that fuckin' head. Doin' just as I ask, just as y'should."

You breathed deeply, nearly choking on the saliva pooling in your mouth. The heat had drained from your outer body, targeting the susceptible organ between your thighs instead. You couldn't help but clench your thighs together, desperately aching to sate your suffering.

"I don't know what you're asking of me." A lie- one told brazenly, in front of your superior, who could see right through the innocent facade.

"You do." He leaned closer. "Don't be daft."

Your brows furrowed, "I'm not."

"You choose. Can have you on guard duty for the next month instead."

"What would you have me do?" You asked, your eyes falling to the desk in front of you.

Your chest was rising and falling quickly, given away by your forearms that lifted and fell with every breath. You were sure your eyes were watery with arousal, desire seeping through the cracks in your composure. You were quickly falling apart under his gaze, with the temptation of his offer.

"Get on your knees."

Your head shot up to his gaze, your lips parting in shock.

"I'm- I-," You stuttered, caught between the desire to comply, to obey, and the stubbornness rooted inside you.

"On your knees," He said again. "Right here." He nodded to the floor in front of him.

You thought you were too dignified to kneel before him; it was supposed to be the opposite- but a small part of you wanted it; letting go, relinquishing control for just a fraction of time.

Regardless of the anger festering in your gut, the offer was damn near irresistible. It sent shivers up your spine, a flush of heat to your groin- and the grudge you'd been building became a distant memory. You were at a crossroads, not entirely sold on the idea for many reasons, but in the moment, you wanted to please him, do whatever he asked of you in hopes he might return the favour.

You swallowed the lump of integrity trying to claw it's way up your throat, standing to your feet once more. You'd already made it around the desk, standing before him as he glanced up at you expectantly.

Your fingers trembled with hesitation, knees buckling under the weighted pressure of his order. Finally, you caved. In spite of all your adamant attempts to show your strength, your resilience, you knelt before your Lieutenant.

He leaned back further in his chair, eyeing you down.

"Think you like pissin' me off," He announced. "Hopin' I'd catch on and treat you the way y'really want."

"Sir, I-"

"Good start," He interrupted. "Keep it up and I might just reward you, Sergeant."

Your nostrils flared, desperately trying to inhale enough oxygen to fight the lightheadedness.

"Tell me what you want," You uttered.

Your confidence had been shattered; you'd been reduced to a submissive vessel to be ordered around. It made you sick- but really, you were shaking with excitement.

"I want you," He leaned in closer. "To put that smart mouth t'good use."

You were dumbfounded, unsure whether it was a test, another scenario he was running, an experiment. But as he leaned back again, shifting his thighs to accommodate you, you knew that wasn't the case.

You gulped, your hands apprehensively reaching for his belt, your eyes locked on his the entire time. You studied him for any sudden movements, treating him like a stray dog that could bite at any second. It wouldn't be unlike him, to bait you into feeling comfortable, then latch onto the most vulnerable parts of you with a glimmer of sadistic pleasure in his eyes.

He liked you on your knees, vulnerable and pliable. He didn't often see the side of you that listened, that let him have control. You fought him on every damn detail, found something to argue over. Here, he had control. You'd agreed to let him have it, of course, but it was a glimpse into the part of you he knew only he could ever have.

You undid his belt, zipper and button opening after that. You should've known better than to expect anything less than the large imprint against his briefs, a wet spot forming above the head of his cock.

He'd been thinking about you for years. At first, it was nothing more than an appreciation for your attractive appearance. Simply put, he could see past your beauty and behave in a normal manner around you. It became more difficult when he grew to know you, your stubborn attitude, brazen defiance in the face of bullshit.

He appreciated a soldier with good sense, especially one that wasn't too much of a boot-licker to speak up. He didn't appreciate the obvious insubordination, but you'd been good at falling in line before that. He could see your confidence, your ability to hold your own.

After the tipping point, he couldn't fight the fantasies in his head. He'd wonder what exactly you looked like under the Kevlar vest and layers of mud and grime. He'd wonder if you thought about him, too. Specifically, when you touched yourself, if you'd ever imagined him when you climaxed.

It drove him mad, not knowing what was going on inside your head. His suggestion came after a few instances of insubordination that created tension between the two of you. He may not have known what you were thinking, but he could see your tense disposition. The way you stared at him, your thighs clenching together when he'd call you out.

You liked being reprimanded by him. His station excited you, he excited you- and he knew it well. He would never abuse his position; he'd offered you an out, and you decided against it. With his suspicions confirmed, there was nothing stopping him from simultaneously putting you in your place and enjoying the fruition of his fantasies.

Your eyes glanced up at him quickly, a look that was laced with hesitation. He enjoyed making you squirm, work for his approval. So, he stayed silent, waiting for you to finally obey him.

You did, to his utmost satisfaction, and peeled his briefs down off his carved hips to expose his cock. He hummed quietly with gratification, watching your eyes widen at his size. He knew he was well endowed, and could hardly contain himself at the thought of you struggling to breath with his cock down your throat.

You licked your lips, an inadvertent response to the sight before you. Your eyes lifted to his, and he reached his hand out, letting it rest on your cheek with an uncharacteristically delicate touch. He guided you forward, until you were perched above his lap, your hands on his knees, waiting with your stomach churning and heart pounding.

Then, he moved his hand to grip your hair, tugging you closer to his cock, until your lips pressed against the slick head. You opened your mouth, letting his cock slide inside.

He groaned. Letting his head fall back as you took his cock deeper, hitting the back of your throat. Your body lurched with a gag, leaving him breathless when your throat closed around him.

"That's it," He grunted. "Choke on it, just like that."

Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, saliva dripping from the corner of your lip. His eyes were glued to you, watching your eyes shut as you forced yourself to take him as deep as possible.

"Look at me," He ordered. "Let me see those pretty eyes."

Your eyes fluttered open, watery from lack of oxygen and the stimulation of your gag reflex. You kept your eyes on his as you suctioned your lips over his cock, your tongue flattening in your mouth as he slid in and out with the movements of your head.

He leaned forward, his hands wrapping around your jaw and the crown of your head as he forced you up and down on his cock. He grunted hoarsely, harsh breaths leaving his lips as he listened to the sounds of your mouth. He tapped your cheek gently with his hand, making you flinch softly.

"'At's a girl," He muttered. "You keep goin' 'til I say so."

You hummed against him, a whimper of pure arousal. You'd already felt your panties become wet, an accumulation of desire that was seeping from you the more he made orders.

"Y'look fuckin' good on your knees, sweetheart, with my cock in your mouth." He fought to speak between deep breaths.

You nodded, nearly unnoticeable, but continued moving your lips up and down his cock, your tongue massaging the places you could reach. You could feel every vein, every ridge on his cock with your tongue. The saliva in your mouth made it difficult to keep quiet, vulgar noises echoing around the small room.

You were a mess, saliva dripping down your chin, tears rolling over your cheeks. You sniffled softly, gasping for air through your nose.

He lifted your head with your hair, yanking you up. You gasped, sucking in a deep breath.

"Take off your shirt."

You pursed your lips, your brows furrowing as you sheepishly tugged your shirt over your head. His eyes followed, watching you toss it aside, moving his gaze to your breasts still hidden behind your bra.

"Bend over my desk."

You gulped- waiting for a moment, until he stood to his feet. Then, you rushed to do as he asked, letting your pelvis hit the desk.

He stood up behind you, pressing his cock into your ass. His fingers reached beneath you, undoing your pants before he yanked them down your thighs. He kicked your foot, making you stumble and spread your legs.

His hand landed on your ass, calloused palms massaging roughly.

"Been on my nerves, Sergeant," He uttered from behind you.

His hand left a harsh slap against your ass, eliciting a yelp from your swollen lips.

"Please, Lieutenant," You whispered.

You were trembling with desire, your legs hardly strong enough to continue to hold you up. You collapsed against the desk, your cheek pressed to the cool metal.

"What's that?" He asked, leaning over you.

"Please- just-"

In the midst of your sentence, his fingers trailed down your ass, before sliding inside you. It cut you off with a guttural moan, your back arching into him.

You could hear the sounds of your desperation, your pussy squelching around his fingers as he hooked them inside you.

"I was right," He said, pride lacing his tone. "You like bein' punished, don't you, sweetheart?"

You whimpered, your ass moving side to side against his groin. His other hand came down on your ass, another slap that made you flinch.

"Yes," You nodded, pushing yourself into his touch.

"This cunt's drippin'," He chided. "Couldn't deny it if you tried."

You held back a sob- overstimulated, desperate, wanting.

"Put your hands on your back."

You did as he asked, completely overcome with desire to fight against his orders anymore. Embarrassment didn't cross your mind, you were beyond aroused, reduced to pleading for him with your whimpers and whines.

"Y'listen well with my fingers in you." He asked. "Finally straighten you out, ain't that right?

You felt the head of his cock replace his fingers, teasing you as he slowly pushed inside.

"Yes please," You whispered. "Yes- yes."

He hummed with satisfaction, before burying himself completely inside you. His hand grabbed a hold of your wrists, pinning you to the desk as his cock grazed your cervix.

You were rendered speechless, your mouth open with a gasp.

He groaned, "This cunt is tight, sweetheart. Might need to stretch you out."

You shut your eyes as he rolled his hips, his pelvis meeting your ass with a force that drove you against the desk.

Your moans were high-pitched, clenching your stomach as you were rammed against the desk. Your arms ached as he held them behind your back, holding you down.

His skin slapped against yours, and he watched your ass bounce on his pelvis. His eyes were glued to the dip of your waist, watching you writhe beneath him as he thrusted into you.

His free hand slid between your thighs, and he hunched over you to massage your clit with his fingers. Your body went rigid, tense with pleasure and overstimulation. It was too much and not enough at the same time, fighting your own body to let you climax.

Despite the uncomfortable table, you could relax in his hold. You trusted him to take care of you. He was rough, seemed uncaring- but you knew better. You'd seen the way he looked at you, the way his eyes lingered. It was undeniable, the chemistry, the sexual tension you could practically taste. He'd always had your back.

His hips rolled against you, hitting your ass with a force that shoved you against the desk. Over and over, he dove deep inside you, lost in his own pleasure until you let out a grunt.

"Ghost-" You choked out.

Saliva dripped onto the table in front of you, your cheek sliding back and forth through the tears that had accumulated.

"Sweetheart," He cooed, another attempt at luring you into a false sense of security. "You close?"

You nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence beneath him. His cock dragging through your walls, his fingers still rubbing slow circles over your clit.

Your pussy fluttered, your eyes shutting and jaw clenching as your orgasm began.

Then, Ghost stopped.

You whined in protest, letting out a huff of anger and exhaustion.

He leaned over you, his lips by your ear.

"You ask to cum," He ordered. "Or you too fuckin' dumb already?"

You shook your head; compliance was the only sure way to get what you wanted- even under the haze of complete submission and arousal, you could understand the game he was playing.

He moved his hips again, his fingers returning between your thighs. You were a bit more sensitive now, having been deprived of your climax, your body twisted against him, itching for relief.

You could only pant against the desk, his chest pressed to your back, still holding your hands so far up your back your shoulders ached. You could hear his heavy breathing in your ear, the mutters of praise leaving his lips.

Every sniffle, every whimper, he chewed up and devoured- he was beyond satisfied, watching you crumble underneath him. After this, he knew he'd have you on a leash, obeying every order, every command, if only for a little while. He'd have no qualms about repeating your punishment.

"Ghost," You blurted out. "Can I cum?" You squeezed your eyes shut.

He waited a few moments before answering, leaving you teetering in the balance, forcing you to concentrate.

"Go on," He said.

You let out a long exhale, pleasure drowning out every other thought aside from his cock moving in and out of you, his heavy hand on your pussy. Your entire body was rigid, frozen beneath him while your orgasm overtook you.

"That's it," He drawled.

His thrusts were slower now that your pussy was clamped down around him, though once you'd recovered, he sped up his pace again.

Your squeals and pleas fell on deaf ears, and he rutted into you until he released himself over your ass.

You exhaled as he back away, running a rag of some sort over you to clean you up.

"Expect you'll be fuckin' tip-top next week," He said, zipping up his pants before sitting back down.

"Yes Sir," You nodded coyly.

"Not t'say I won't be seein' you before then."

His eyes stared you down, watched you closely as you tugged your shirt back over your head.

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out," You said.

He nodded; an understanding.

You slid your pants back up your thighs, giving one last look over your shoulder before slipping out through his office door.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ghost x you

[strlingsav]

I’m simply in love with your portrayal of Simon/Ghost. This fandom has so many incredibly talented writers, I am glad I stumbled upon your work! Your interpretation of his character is among my favourites 🥰 if it interests you, I would like to request a comfort fic w a femme reader who is perhaps not active on the field herself, but more on the intelligence/IT side of the operations (you can totally change this if you want, it’s up for your interpretation!) who is capable but suffers from insecurity and imposters sydrome (yep I am totally projecting🤫🤐) and during a mental breakdown bc of the stress from work, Ghost of all people, who she previously has only seen during a few briefings and never has approached bc of his intimidating reputation, finds her. Cue to the stoic scary big man who has previously only stared her down turning out to be actually very supportive and appreciative of her work because he always has noticed her. It’s up to you if want to keep it sfw or not! But a dash of softdom/service top sprinkled w some praise kink wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world🥴 I would love to see your take on this if this idea interests you, and it’s totally fine if it doesn’t 🥰 it’s always a pleasure to read your work regardless! Have a good one! ✌🏻💕

Thank you very much!! I appreciate that very much 🥹🫶🏻 I can definitely do this!

Support

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Ghost stumbles upon you, after-hours, during a breakdown.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

It was approaching two in the morning. You were running solely on caffeine and nicotine- neither of which were helping your dry eyes or headache. The light of your monitors was the only source in the room, completely enshrouded by darkness as you stared blankly at the screens. You'd hoped it would help you focus, think more clearly, but so far it had only isolated you further, brought nothing but pressure and stress.

It wasn't supposed to be difficult, it was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be easy for you. You'd studied computer technology and engineering for years- built and coded programs for organizations all over the world. You'd worked within the military for nearly a decade, providing the most proficient and reliable support among your similarly-rated peers. You were quite literally an expert, but you didn't feel like it. Not with the unfinished assignment sitting before you.

Laswell, Price, the entirety of 141- they relied on you. They relied heavily on your abilities to guide them through their fieldwork, to do the digging they couldn't reach while on location. Though, as you leaned back in your chair, your lip red and raw with irritation, your back aching, you didn't feel reliable. You felt the familiar sting of failure, of total disappointment.

It bubbled up in your throat, escaping in a series of curses, shoving yourself away from the desk before you wound up damaging thousands of dollars of equipment. You paced, stared, and paced. Your mind swimming with questions, re-thinking every sequence, every key, every exhaustive search you could possibly pull- and still hadn't decrypted the data.

Your hand slammed down on the desk, scattering the pens and piles of paperwork you'd accumulated over the many hours you'd spent stewing in front of the code screen. The cursor blinked at you- waiting, taunting you, filling you with dread.

"Y'alright in here?"

A gruff voice pulled you from your anxious stupor, and you yanked your hand from the desk, gasping sharply. You looked up, finding Ghost at the doorway.

In the dark, you could hardly make out his silhouette, but the outline of his mask was a stark contrast against the pitch-black room.

"Didn't mean t'scare you," He said, taking a few steps forward. "Heard somethin' in here."

You let out a sigh, your heartbeat relaxing back into its regular rhythm.

You'd heard his voice before, usually over the comms, and seen him during briefings, but you'd never spoken in person. You knew he had a reputation for being tough and commanding; it put you on edge watching his looming figure in the darkness. He was undeniably intimidating, especially as he stalked toward you.

You stepped back, letting him around the desk to see your monitors.

"You're up late," He said, examining the screen.

"Trying to decode this shit," You huffed, forgetting about his domineering presence once you refocused on your failure. "It's taking me longer than it should."

"Looks complicated," He replied, his eyes meeting yours briefly.

"It is. It shouldn't be, but it is," You sighed again, sitting down as he looked over your shoulder.

"How long you been at this?"

You ignored his question, leaning in to further examine the code screen.

"It's late. You should sleep, get back to it in the mornin'."

You furrowed your brows, looking over your shoulder to find him closer than expected.

"I don't need sleep," You shook your head. "I need to figure this out. I'm close."

An epiphany sparked in your head- a brute force attack you hadn't yet tried. You quickly typed in the keys, waiting with baited breath as the screen paused.

A flickering script reading 'denied' came across your screen, typed out in front of you for confirmation. Validation that you'd failed, again.

"Fuck!" You shouted, cradling your head in your hands. "I-I can't figure this shit out, I can't do it." Your voice broke, hoarse with strain.

You looked up at him, your eyes now watery with frustration and anger.

"'Ey," He said, leaning forward. "Relax. I dunno much about this shite, but seems you're doin' alright."

You tilted your head. "Laswell needs these documents for Shepherd tomorrow, and I've got nothing to show for it. It'll be my ass getting dismissed. It's not alright."

"Shepherd can wait," He said. "You've saved our arses more than a few times."

"It's not enough."

"It's more than enough. Relax, you're givin' me a bloody headache."

"I can't relax," You looked up at him with blood-shot eyes.

"If anyone can do it, 't's you. Seen you handle worse than this." He gestured to the screen, a flippant motion.

You sucked in a deep breath, nodding slowly. You were more than shocked to hear the comforting words from Ghost. A man revered for his deadly hands, ferocity. The irony made you giggle, short and quiet, though he heard it.

"What's funny?" He asked, moving to lean against the desk.

"Just didn't expect you to be so supportive. Appreciative."

"I see what you do," His gaze was unwavering as he stared you down. "Couldn't do it m'self. Owe you my life, if not more."

"Not quite," You quirked up a brow.

"Yeah- quite. Raid in Las Almas, no other escape routes, Price called you in and we were on the way out in minutes."

You bit your cheek, nodding slowly, your eyes shutting as you digested his words. He was right- you'd done your fair share of evac and location support, never losing a soldier. Regardless of how horribly the assignment was going, you couldn't deny only you had the capacity to complete it.

"Thanks," You nodded, looking up at him. "I'm just in my head, stressed out."

He cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter.

You leaned back, grabbing a cigarette from the nearly-empty pack on the desk, and lighting it up.

"You want one?" You asked, offering him the package.

He took one, offering a quiet, "Cheers."

He lifted the cover of his mask up above his nose- it took every ounce of strength not to immediately watch his lips as he stuck the cigarette between them. Even then, your eyes glanced at the newly-discovered flesh, diverting your gaze when he locked eyes with you.

You inhaled deeply, letting the nicotine coat your lungs, before exhaling into the monitors before you.

"Should get some sleep," He said, standing up.

"Yeah," You nodded, shifting to lean forward. "Yeah, I will. Just a bit longer."

He sighed, bringing his gloved hand down on the keyboard.

"I'll break it in half if I need to," He said, his voice low and threatening.

You swallowed, raising your brows at the unexpected reaction.

"Alright," You huffed.

You stood to your feet, putting your cigarette out on the ashtray beside your mouse. He did the same, arms folding over his chest as he waited for you to leave your station.

His adamant opposition to letting you continue was admirable. Attractive, even. You hadn't anticipated feeling grateful, or happy to have had him find you.

You'd kept your distance from him, though you'd always find your eyes gravitating toward his. He'd already be staring, watching you from across the briefing room. At first, you'd been terrified, wondering if you'd done something to piss him off, but nothing ever came of it. Instead, he'd lift his head to find you, check over his shoulder to look at you.

He found you intriguing, attractive. A brilliant woman; smart, educated, someone he was glad to have on his team. He'd seen the countless hours you put in, the calm tone of your voice every time there was a stress signal from one of the men. You held it together for them- the least he could do was the same for you.

He liked the way your eyes studied the screen, the way you'd chew your lip raw. Though it wasn't in your best interest, he found it alluring. His mind wandered when he'd see you, nothing appropriate at all- only to satisfy the heat that curled itself inside his intestines when he laid his eyes on you.

He remembered seeing you for the first time, wondering who you were: laptop on the desk, pen in hand, bright-eyed and eager to please. Immediately, he'd fabricated images of you in his mind- images that he'd play through during the lonely hours of the night.

"Why are you up?" You asked suddenly.

"Couldn't sleep. Don't sleep much."

You shook your head, "And yet, you're lecturing me." A small smile lifted your lips.

"For your own good," He answered.

"That's interesting," You mumbled.

"Why's that?"

You breathed in, "You've only ever stared me down, don't think we've had a conversation before."

"Y'can say a lot without talkin'," He retorted.

"I wasn't sure whether you wanted to fuck me or kill me," You grinned.

"What's the consensus?"

"Still not sure," You held back a grin.

"Would've killed you by now."

You laughed, "That's not very comforting."

"Should be. Only leaves the former."

He moved closer, standing up straight as he unhooked his legs.

You were pleasantly surprised, though your nerves had been roused from their short slumber. Heat washed over your cheeks, climbing up your spine before returning to the crest of your thighs.

"Think y'could use some stress relief," He said. "Y'seem pent-up."

You pulled your lip between your teeth, your eyes shifting between his. It was tempting, more than your mortal being could possibly resist.

"Maybe," You uttered, your hands twitching with anxiety as he neared you.

He cocked his head, "Maybe ain't an answer."

"Yes," You blurted. "I could. But not if you're taking pity on me."

He chuckled, a sound you'd never heard before from him, though it was somewhat deformed. Amusement and disbelief rather than enjoyment.

"Sweetheart," He cooed, his chest nearly pressed against yours. "It ain't pity. Y'should know better."

"We'll, you're not exactly approachable," You said, tilting your head to meet his gaze. "Haven't had the pleasure of speaking with you before."

He nodded, "S'alright," He said. "Had enough o' watchin' from afar, though."

You breathed out, long and cathartic as it passed your lips. Releasing every worry and anxiety, relieved to be able to focus solely on him- on Ghost.

His hand reached your waist, softly pulling you into him, finally connecting your bodies. You let out a quiet grunt, your hands raised at your sides as you took in the feeling of his body against yours.

"Y'can touch me," He grinned. "I won't bite 'less you ask."

As if you weren't already aroused, soaking your panties, he only made it worse. The heat of his hands on your waist had drawn out any thoughts in your head, his voice so close- so clear in front of you was mesmerizing.

You apprehensively moved your hands to rest on his shoulders, your palms gliding against the taught muscles, another extended sigh as you tried to ignore the burning in your gut. He liked the contact, your small hands searing a brand into his skin.

He stared at you for a few moments, his eyes raking over your face, the face he'd seen in his dreams more than anywhere else. He must've made a pact with the devil, something sacrificed to have you in his hands- finally.

He leaned in, soft lips touching yours. It was fleeting, the softness, before he backed you against the desk with no regard for the equipment on it. Still, his lips held your attention, his tongue gliding between your lips to clash against yours. It was open-mouthed, messy, especially as he lifted you to the desk and bullied himself between your thighs.

You moaned faintly when his hand slid down your side, taking a handful of your ass and squeezing harshly. His other hand worked your shirt off your torso, parting only for a moment when the fabric passed your neck. His hands on your bare skin created a feeling of tightness in your gut- especially as he squeezed and grabbed at you, truly appreciating the curves of your body against him.

To your chagrin, he was still fully clothed, in his fatigues, like he lived in them. Even at two A.M., the man never quit. You weren't complaining; you rather liked the sight of his fitted uniform, especially as it squeezed his forearms and thighs, showing the bulk of muscle and veins beneath tattooed skin.

You were antsy, however, to feel him. All of him, against you.

"Take it off," You whispered against his lips, tugging at his jacket with clenched fists.

"Bossy woman you are," He teased, pulling away as he unbuttoned the shirt.

"I know what I want," You shot back, your eyes now narrowed in on him.

He hummed, satisfied with your answer. "That so?"

You nodded, smug and prideful, a sense of power- you had complete control. Your hands supported your weight behind you, leaning back, watching the show as he stripped from the shirt. It fell off his torso, revealing the toned muscles beneath, and he yanked the other sleeve off with impatience.

Your jaw was slack, looking over him as he neared again. This time, his hand slid up your throat, gripping the delicate area with a firm hold. He forced your eyes to meet his, a noticeable grin on his lips.

"You listen to me, sweetheart," He said, in your face. "And I'll take care o'you. Spread your legs."

You shivered, an audible gasp leaving your lips. The things you'd have done to hear filthy words leave his mouth- the voice that rung in your ears at night, made your pussy flutter. Now, he'd offered his services to you, rather enthusiastically, too, admitting he'd wanted it for a long time. If nothing else made you feel better about your shit progress, he surely could.

He kept eye contact while his hand worked open your pants, pulling them and your panties down your legs with speed and precision. He wasted no time pressing your thighs to your chest, tucking you into an uncomfortable position before kneeling in front of you.

"No thinkin'," He warned. "'Less it's about cummin' on my face."

Your head fell back, groaning softly, lifting back up again only when he pressed his lips to your pussy. Then, you watched with anticipation building in your gut, trembling in your limbs and a heavy ache settling in your womb.

He slid a warm tongue between your folds, a gentle touch you hadn't expected from the brute of a man. He watched you the entire time, took in the sight of your lips parting, sucking in a long breath, shutting your eyes as you basked in the pleasure. He couldn't help but form a grin, his lips engulfing your pussy in an open-mouthed kiss.

His attention moved to your clit, faint licks crossing the sensitive area that coaxed quick jolts from your body. He settled into a rhythm, and your body adjusted accordingly, leaning into the new and overwhelming feeling.

"Yeah, right there," You said, a hushed tone, like you were speaking to yourself.

He grunted in response, another warning.

"Sorry," You said again. "Feels so good." It was a quiet whine.

You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, grab at something, anything that would connect you to him, so you settled for his forearms. Your palm gripped the flesh of his arm, squeezing, just as he did to your thighs.

His tongue expertly traced your clit, circles and delicate licks that made your back arch, opening yourself up for him to taste.

"That's it," He uttered, muffled by your pussy. Even speaking against you made you clench, stare down at him with lust on your face. "There's a good girl."

You exhaled, nodding in agreement, submission to his mouth as he returned to his rhythm, falling in tandem with the heavy breathing leaving your chest. His eyes hadn't left you, watching and studying your expression for every hint of pleasure. He was intent on learning exactly what you like, though it was difficult to discern through the flurry of expressions on your face.

Your brows drawn together, jaw open as you choked down a gasp, breathing heavily into the dark room. He could make out your face, but your silhouette was blackened against the light of the monitors. He could see the swell of your breasts, your thighs, the curve of your waist against the backlight. He could even see your eyes, when you'd drop your head to watch him devour you.

You began to shake, tensing against his mouth when he continued at a consistent pace. He was thorough in every aspect of life- this was no exception. He didn't let up, even when your pussy drooled with cum, instead, he licked it up with his tongue, moaning softly against you at your taste.

He stood to his feet, unbuckling his belt as he stared at you. Your chest heaved, toes curled, leaning back as you watched him. The light danced on his abdomen, highlighting every hill and dip on his torso, the scars that scattered the skin. It was a sight that had your brain resetting, recovering as though you hadn't been covered in a layer of sweat and left breathless from your orgasm.

His cock stood erect when he yanked his trousers down, and he didn't stall any longer. He stalked forward, leaning into you, his hand on the desk behind you as he pushed his cock through the tight barrier of your hymen. He was absorbed, swallowed by soft inner-muscles and velvety walls, slick with your cum and arousal.

He pressed his lips to yours again, not allowing for much deliberation or accommodation- he was far too aroused to wait. You planted your heels against the desk as he thrusted his entire length into you, quickly meeting your cervix with a gentle graze. It made you suck in a sharp breath, and move away from his lips.

You saw his eyes, the look of possession and pure lust in them. You merely stared at each other, a nauseating intimacy while he thrusted inside you, further disturbing your lower stomach with a tightness.

"Oh God," You choked, your hands reaching around his shoulders, clinging to him. "Don't stop- don't fucking stop."

His hand reached around you, holding you against him, the other gripping your thigh with a bruising constraint.

"Fuckin' Christ, you're tight, sweetheart," He breathed in your ear. "You all wet for me?"

You nodded, breathing an enthusiastic yes into his ear, clenching at his back with your fingers. Your nails dug into the slick flesh, feeling his muscles move as his hips tilted back and forth into you.

All you could smell, hear was him. The scent of his heavy body soap, like pine, mixed with the cigarette you'd offered him earlier. His breathing in your ear, heavy pants as he relished in the tightness of you- the slippery walls encroaching on his cock.

"Such a good fuckin' girl," He mumbled against your neck, his lips dragging against your skin. "Say you're a good girl," His voice rumbled through his chest. "Fuck me- all for me."

It was haze-inducing, incoherent mumbles, quiet gasps and sobs as you clung to him. It worsened when his fingers played your clit, sliding between your bodies to rub over the sensitive spot.

"I'm a good girl," You gasped. "I'm your good girl."

"'At's right, sweetheart- takin' me nice and deep."

It didn't take long to clench around his cock, another wave of nauseating pleasure that rendered you absolutely useless as he drove into you.

"Fuckin' hell," He stuttered.

You'd constricted his cock, pulsating around him with every contraction, nearly sobbing into his shoulder when he continued with his thrusts.

He finally pulled out, tugging on his cock as he released his cum over your stomach. He exhaled sharply, before gathering his composure.

You grimaced as you stood to your feet, trying to clean yourself off as best you could.

You watched him shrug his jacket back on.

"Get some rest," He nodded once, gesturing to the doorway. "I'll check on you tomorrow."

"Is 'check on me' an innuendo? Should I wear my good underwear?" You grinned, pulling your pants back over your backside.

"I'd shag you if y'had on a bin bag, sweetheart."

"You're sweeter than you let on," You teased, laughing.

"Not for most," He cocked his head. "Guess you're lucky."

"Well, thank you," You smiled.

It was genuine. A distraction, however unexpected and unusual, that did make you almost forget about the assignment.

"I'll be around," He paused. "If you're feelin' like takin' your frustrations out."

"Goodnight, Lieutenant."

He walked off with a short nod. You paused for a moment; the temptation to curl yourself up at your desk and continue your assignment was gnawing at you. You clenched your jaw, took a deep breath in when you recalled Ghost's words, and finally decided to turn off the monitors.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ghost x you

[strlingsav]

Bestie. Can I request Keegan. He needs the Savannah treatment. Tension with reader and they bang. That’s all I need.

Can be enemies, can be friends who refuse to acknowledge the tension, what ever you fancy. ✨🌚❤️

Anything for you and your man 🫶🏻 ily

Requited

– Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

— Tension between yourself and Keegan comes to a boiling point post-mission.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Your recon-patrol mission had finally come to an end, an exhausting endeavour among the rubble of No Man's Land with a short detour. Alex, having been successfully extracted from the stadium, was all too keen on retreating to safety and crashing for the evening. You yourself found the invitation for sleep nearly impossible to resist, but your stomach had been growling loudly for majority of the evening.

You'd showered, scrubbed every particle of blood, dirt and sweat from your body, still sore from the day's work. Your arms ached, legs stiff and your back tight; the warm water worked at the knots in your muscles, but a good night's rest was still calling to you. You opted to find something to settle your stomach, before heading to bed.

Elias and Thomas busied themselves in the kitchenette, raiding the cabinets for some form of liquor to wash down the stress of the day. You tried to slink into the room unnoticed, hide your presence under the loud laughter and talking from only a few feet away. Your eyes shifted as you caught a glimpse of Keegan, hands on the table, nodding along with the conversation.

You'd first met Keegan under complicated conditions- working with the Federation to further their cause, you'd only recently come to join the Ghosts and their efforts against the organization.

He'd nearly killed you when you met, filled with unbridled rage as he demanded to know Rorke's whereabouts and what exactly you knew of him. It was a long night of interrogating, shouting, swearing; threats passed between you before it crumbled with your confession. News of your commanding officer's betrayal spurred your decision to leave, whether it meant joining Keegan or being executed.

You were shown mercy, recruited to their task force with the overwhelming knowledge and insight you held of the federation. You were valuable, though still sat on the outskirts of their brotherhood, a stranger.

Your feelings for Keegan were layered between pure hatred and attraction, though they had softened over the last few months while working with him. In fact, to your reluctant dismay, you even had moments of weakness where he was endearing.

It grew from a vague fondness to entertaining the thought of his hands and lips on your body. Even now, noticing the swell of arousal seeping into your lower stomach.

You'd never admit it- you clung to the shadows, kept yourself hidden from the spotlight and cooperated as best you could to avoid ruffling feathers. Making yourself obvious was not in your interest, nor was drawing attention to your conflicting feelings about Keegan.

You were a bit annoyed with yourself for finding Keegan's presence, physical appearance, even his voice from across the room- to be attractive instead of irritating.

You'd be lying if you hadn't imagined what it would be like to kiss him- after a long day, to pull the mask off his face and taste words of affection and praise in that gruff voice that gave you goosebumps. Only late at night would you let the thoughts snowball, otherwise, he was still as far out of arm's reach as he'd always been.

You noticed most of them, including Keegan, were half-way to intoxicated. You tried to wiggle your way in unnoticed, but Merrick drew attention to you as soon as you stepped in the room, calling out your name.

"Join us," He gestured, waving you over to the aged table. "Long day calls for a drink."

"Just getting something to eat. I'll see you in the morning."

You'd managed to find a ration hidden in a scarcely-stocked cabinet, and held it up to show him.

Keegan's eyes followed you in your military-issued T-shirt and sweatpants that you managed to fit into so well. Ghost trails plagued his vision, watching you dig through the cupboards for a utensil of any kind, then straighten again. He took a shot of the cheap liquor being shared, his eyes narrowed at you, when you turned and met his gaze.

"The Rookie's too good for a drink with us," Keegan spoke up, indifference in his tone, but you picked up on a sour note. "Let her go." He shrugged.

You wanted to pretend it didn't sting- the rejection hurt more than you cared to admit, especially given the man it came from. It wasn't like you were trying to weasel your way into their good graces, but some slack would've eased your nerves.

Keegan didn't look away when your eyes met his, instead, he took it as a challenge. A dare, of sorts- who would cower from the exchange first. It wouldn't be him, couldn't be him; not with the alcohol in his bloodstream and sudden onset of intrigue - or something like it- simmering in his gut.

His eyes moved to the outline of your curves. Sometimes, he swore you knew exactly how you made him feel; infuriatingly aroused. It always irked him, the feeling of betrayal, like allowing himself to picture you in any way other than the enemy made him a traitor.

His brain hadn't yet entirely rewired itself to see you as his teammate. He still held contempt for your past secrecy and cooperation with the federation. It was only a coincidence that this contempt manifested itself into a sick irony of attraction, admiration, lust.

He had been impressed by your commitment to your cause, though your new-found loyalty to the Ghosts was much easier to digest. He was still suspicious, of course- good looks and a glimpse of your ass wouldn't change that, but his mind always wandered to what you felt like, sounded like, especially if it were to involve him.

He'd spent more than a few frustrating evenings with his legs spread, head against his pillow, fist wrapped around his cock as he imagined you riding him- something he desperately wanted to stop doing but couldn't. You didn't help, either; always unknowingly adding to the collection of mental images he'd circle back to in the darkness of his bunk.

"Nothing you could say would interest me anyway, Russ." You answered, watching him drop the bottle from his lips.

Elias and Merrick hid their grins, watching Keegan's face drop.

You bowed out, a sliver of pride settling in your chest, and strode away to your bunk to devour your meal. It wasn't worth the extra effort to stay and argue, wasn't worth destroying the already delicate ecosystem between yourself and Keegan. Anything tipping it off balance would be potentially catastrophic for you and the task force.

Your nerves had settled after retreating to safety, though were quickly rattled again as Keegan appeared at your door nearly half an hour later. You set the rations aside, standing to meet him, before he entered of his own accord.

"Do you like being alone, rookie?" He asked, leaning against the door frame. His question came in the form of an accusation, rather than genuine curiosity.

You hated the nickname- your rank was equal to that of Keegan's, though he liked to be poignant about how he viewed you. You weren't yet truly a part of the task force.

"No, I'm just tired."

Your argument was cut short as he neared you, uncharacteristically bold. You'd known him as a quiet man, a bit antisocial when he wasn't working- but his demeanour had changed, his tone cutting your words in half. You suspected the alcohol had something to do with it.

"I've seen you sneaking off. Makes me think you're hiding something."

You quirked a brow up, knowing you'd hurt his ego with your snide remark. You wanted to scoff in his face, but swallowed your attitude for later. As he came closer, you felt a familiar tremble of arousal beginning in your gut- the same one that shouldn't be there.

"Not hiding, just staying out of the way." You insisted.

"I know your history."

"I don't have anything to hide," You said, lifting your head to meet his eyes.

You gulped, hoping he was oblivious to the unsavoury thoughts and feelings you'd been experiencing about him. Surely, he was suspicious because of your past with the federation- still, your heart raced in your chest for all the wrong reasons.

"Seems like you do. And I don't think you've forgotten how it ended last time."

You breathed out, now imagining his large hands punishing you. The bittersweet sting of his palm against your ass while his hips rocked into you- it made you shiver. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping it was more subtle than it was.

He closed in on you, nearly chest-to-chest.

"I have nothing to hide," You repeated, watching his brows furrow.

"Bullshit," He scoffed. "I can see it on your face."

"Sergeant," You warned, feeling flustered and overwhelmed, but now filled with a bit of contempt for his relentlessness. "If you have reason to believe I'm hiding something, say it. Otherwise, I'm going to bed."

He set his jaw, taken aback by your sudden influx of confidence. He was almost confused, the liquor amplifying every emotion he was feeling, including the strange sensation in his gut that yearned to touch you, feel your lips just once even if never again.

"You're trouble, rookie. I just know it." He shook his head.

"Maybe," You said into the air, locking eyes as he licked his lips. "Or are you just looking for it?" It wasn't meant to be laced with a sultry tone, or sound so deviously sexual, but it hit Keegan's ears and caused a rush of blood to his groin.

He shook his head again, trying to lose the wild thoughts that snuck up on him. He knew you were trouble- maybe not a traitor, but a damn tease. His cock was already pushing against his jeans just watching the furrow of your brows and small pout you put on. Everything about you was inviting- your eyes, your lips, your smell.

"I don't need to look, I know it when I see it."

"You're just looking for a reason to get rid of me, Russ."

"I'm looking for you to be honest," He growled. "You've got something you're not sharing with the rest of us."

"I'm entitled to my privacy."

"Not with your past offences."

"Are you always an asshole to your teammates, or do you save it for me?"

"You'd know if I were being an asshole."

"I'd hate to be around when that happens."

"I think you can handle more than you let on, Rookie."

"If my position on this task force is too much for you to handle-"

His hand came up to rest beside your head, his body moving closer yours, leaving barely an inch between you. It became clear when his next words passed his lips, what exactly his intentions were.

"I can handle you, rookie," He said; quiet, but filled with the deep husk of his voice in your ear. "I promise you that."

Your knees nearly melted, dropping an inch as you met his gaze. Your hands flattened against the wall, your stomach tying itself in knots.

A surge of arousal awakened your confidence once more- fairly certain that his interrogating was not the result of suspicion, but lust. You straightened your legs, finding his eyes as you stood up.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Sergeant. I'd hate to be disappointed." You pursed your lips, afraid that you'd gone too far, that he hadn't meant what he'd said the way you perceived it.

But he cracked a smile- a twitch of his lip that made you exhale harshly. He liked a challenge. Didn't back down from dangerous or difficult conditions- he was notorious for his resiliency. You weren't going to be an exception, not when he wanted you so badly.

The air stood still for a moment- the two of you silently reading the unspoken words settled in your eyes. It was tense- undeniably rigid, heat passing between your bodies.

Without another moment passing, he lifted his hand to the back of your neck, rough callouses scraping your skin as he pulled you closer. His lips engulfed yours so quickly, it shocked you, caused your teeth to clash together and your brain to pause for a moment while you registered the chain of events.

Whether passion or frustration, he opened his mouth, forcing yourself to do the same, and slid his tongue against yours.

Your small squeaks and quick breaths turned to quiet moans as his other hand snaked around your waist, pulling your groin flush with his. You could feel the thick length of his cock pressing against your abdomen, and a flutter of excitement tickled your insides.

Your hands lifted to his shoulders, wrapping around to feel the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer into you, pressing your breasts against his chest.

"Shit," He cussed, low and quiet. He prompted you to jump up into his arms, his hands gripping your ass as he held you close to his groin.

You clung to his waist, reconnecting your lips as he travelled slowly to the small bed against the wall. With each step, your lips and teeth knocked against each other, tongues sliding together, hands tangled in his short hair.

He dropped you down, eyes locked on yours like a predator about to devour his prey. He used his hand to push the waist band of your sweatpants down, finding you bare beneath them. In response, he groaned.

"Damn, you infuriate me," He breathed.

"Shut up," You replied.

You pressed your lips against his again as his fingers crept toward your pussy, two of them beginning to rub circles over your clit, in turn causing your back to arch off the mattress. He watched with parted lips, so focused on your expression of pleasure he nearly forgot about the aching in his pants.

He listened to your sweet moans of desperation, watched your lips part as you breathed deeply, moaned quietly. Your arms had tangled themselves around his shoulders, holding onto him tightly as he slowly forced his fingers inside you.

His head dropped, eyes wandering to your breasts, hard nipples pressing against your T-shirt, and the view of his fingers inside your wet cunt as he yanked your sweats off.

He could hardly believe how soft you were- tight around his fingers and almost moulding around them. He flicked them inside you, massaging the spongy dome that made you clench around him, while his thumb returned to your clit.

He took a deep breath in, resisting the urge to slide inside you without anymore delay.

"You are trouble," He breathed, his head dipping down to your ear. "Were you thinkin' about me before I came in here?"

You opened your eyes to find his, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to find the words to respond. Haphazard strokes over your clit were already helping lead you closer to orgasm, and his fingers filling you only pushed you over the edge.

"I-" You gulped, pausing to catch your breath. "I was thinking about you," You answered. It was honest, vague- there were too many things you'd thought about.

"Thinkin' about the guy you hate making you cum?" He sped up his pace, earning a tortured squeak from your lips.

"Asshole," You breathed.

"Give it up, baby. I know you wanna cum."

You wanted to be irritated, but his fingers were still inside you and he showed no signs of relenting until you climaxed, which meant there was no focusing on anything other than the building suspense in your gut.

It unraveled quickly, especially with his confession to paint a vivid picture in your mind. Your pussy convulsed around his fingers, and his lips found yours amongst your open-mouthed moans.

You were muffled by his lips, whimpering quietly into him when he removed his fingers and undid his belt in one fell swoop. He had hardly dropped his pants off his hips before he was pulling your shirt over your head and lavishing your breasts with hot kisses.

Your breathing increased, chest heaving as he savoured the taste of your skin, ran his warm tongue over your nipples. At the same time, he guided his cock to the heat of your pussy, gently probing before sliding deep into your soft, silky depths.

He groaned harshly, matching a soft moan that bubbled up from your throat as you felt his cock fill you. Your chest flooded with warmth, abdomen clenching as he reached your cervix and pulled back.

He cursed, gathering your hands in one of his and pinning them above your head.

"You feel just as good as you look," He grumbled, his hips moving slowly.

Your nostrils flared as you tried to regain some semblance of control, widening your legs to allow his hips to become flush with yours. Your back arched again, unintentionally wrenching against your flesh restraints before settling beneath him.

"Keegan," You whimpered, meeting his gaze as his pace began to pick up.

His breaths of exertion fanned your face, disappearing until he was beside your ear and you could hear every moan and groan that left his lips.

His cock continued to penetrate your walls, shifting your hips to angle it in a way that made your teeth clench. His cock rubbed against your clit, simultaneously stimulating your G-spot.

Your eyes squeezed shut, hands flexing open and closed while he met your hips with aggressive thrusts. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, quiet moans escaping between deep breaths.

"You're hard to resist, you know that?" He grunted.

You turned your head, watching him as he watched you. His hand released yours, and you took the opportunity to force him beside you, sliding over his lap as he lay back.

His brows lifted in shock, lying back as he helped guide you over his lap.

"It doesn't have to be that way," You breathed, repositioning yourself until you were comfortable. "Stop the interrogating, and I'm willing to surrender- anytime."

You gently sat down, his hand helping to guide his cock back inside you with a short grunt.

He grinned softly, until you moved your hips forward and rode his lap. His hands flew to your hips, grabbing at your flesh. His palm left a quick smack against your ass.

"Deal," He nodded. "Just don't stop now."

You continued, grinding your hips against him, thrusting his cock inside you. Your hands planted themselves on his chest, your hips moving at a pace that began to cause a build up of tension in your stomach.

His fingers began to rub circles over your clit again, causing a shudder to run through you before you continued.

"Shit-" He cursed, feeling you pulse around him. "Shit baby, that's it."

You exhaled, throwing your head back and watching the ceiling as you tried to avoid cumming, to avoid giving him the satisfaction of making you orgasm twice; but your stomach twisted with pleasure.

Your fingers dug into his skin, your head falling as your orgasm descended and you froze. Aside from your hips grinding sloppily, your lips were agape, breath stopped.

Keegan continued, gently thrusting up into you as he neared his own orgasm, watching your eyes meet his with desperation, pupils blown from the adrenaline and oxytocin in your veins. His hands moulded to your hips, gliding around your waist and thighs until he reached your hands on his chest.

"I'm gonna cum, baby," He moaned, squeezing your hands before letting go.

You didn't relent, continuing to ride his cock until he went rigid. His fingers probed your flesh, grabbing harshly as he released inside you and his hips stuttered. He shivered, blinked a few times before he regained sentience and met your gaze.

"You're trouble," He grinned, exhaling harshly. "But I won't hold it against you."

#keegan russ x reader #cod ghosts #keegan p russ smut #Keegan p Russ #cod #call of duty keegan #call of duty #strlingsavwrites

[strlingsav]

CAN YOU WRITE SOMETHING WITH SOAP FOR ME?

Let's imagine that y/n and Soap have been friends for some years (let's imagine high school) and they have had this sexual tension since then.

If y/n know about him being in the SAS? Your choice, I don't even know if it's possible to tell others. But she knows he's a soldier.

So one night, after task force 141 was sent home for whatever reason, they all meet up and y/n goes too with Soap. All the squad notice this tension between the two of them and they tease them. Let's resume it ahahahah they are a bit tipsy and they end up making up while soap is taking her home...and then she invites him over and, you know

I sure can 😇

Longing

– Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader

— Your feelings for your friend develop into something more.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

You ran a pair of flat palms over the hem of your blouse, smoothing any wrinkles or folds, inspecting yourself in the mirror. Johnny's voice, calling for your attention, pulled you away from your reflection.

"Sorry," You answered. "You're sure it's okay I come?" You asked, your phone tucked between your ear and shoulder.

Johnny had returned after more than a few months overseas, and so had his teammates. As if it weren't nerve-racking enough to finally see him again, he was pulling you into a last-minute meeting with a group of soldiers.

Your nerves were jumpy, like live-wires running through your limbs, and although you tried to pass it off as general nervousness, you knew it was seeing Johnny again that was giving you palpitations.

You'd been friends for a long time, seen every side of him you could possibly love or hate, and it wasn't until the last few years that you'd finally come around to acknowledging your feelings for him.

It was a silent longing, sitting on your chest anytime you saw him, talked to him, even when he wasn't around. Your judgement told you he saw you as a friend, nothing more, which made the ever-growing feelings that much harder to overcome.

It was undeniably tense, always had been, especially the few times when you'd bid him goodbye as he left for his work trips. The urge to kiss him, finally taste him and savour the dreamt-of feeling of his lips on yours, had been gnawing at you. There was a build-up of heavy temptation, feelings you ached to get rid of before you embarrassed yourself.

You weren't entirely sure how solid your intuition was- whether it was just that you'd known each other so long, or genuine attraction. Regardless, your feelings had fallen to the back-burner when Johnny left over seas the first time all those years ago, and you'd yet to confront them since.

A part of you wanted to believe it was better that way; his deployments were a stark contrast to the happily-ever-after you'd talked about since you were younger. But the larger, less logical, part of you that knew Johnny well would suffer through it just to be with him.

"Aye," Johnny's voice came through the speaker. "Just a few lads gettin' together for a few drinks. Nothin' serious." There was a pause, long enough to notice but short enough to leave you wondering. "And I've missed you."

Your eyes shut, savouring the way his words sounded. He was talking to you- he missed you.

You nodded to yourself, exhaling. It was shaky, full of concern and worry, and Johnny could feel it. He wanted nothing more than to tuck you under his arm, squeeze in beside you on the couch and spend the night with you- only you- but he wasn't entirely sure if you'd be on board.

He liked the way you looked at him, like he was the funniest man on earth, and possibly the most handsome, but he feared he'd put meaning where there was none. He didn't want to read into your touches and soft parting kisses on his cheek, but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to. Especially with just how badly he craved you- nearly always starving for just an ounce more than you'd give.

"Alright. You're there already?"

He could hear you moving, rustling about your apartment as you gathered your keys and wallet. He imagined the same flustered expression he'd seen so many times before, a small grin overtaking his face.

"Aye," He said again, his tone a bit more sharp than before. "Stop worryin' yourself. There's no rush."

"I'm trying," You grumbled, shutting the door behind you swiftly as you headed down to the street.

He grumbled your name softly, a light chuckle moving away from the receiver. "I'll see you soon."

He didn't give you another moment to question him, quickly hanging up. At the same time, you'd hailed a cab and urged yourself to get in without allowing for anymore anxious deliberation.

You stepped inside the bar not long after, your head on a swivel as you desperately searched for the pitch-black hair and ocean eyes that you knew would inevitably find you.

When he laid eyes on you, for the first time in months, he breathed in deeply. His chest was tight with anxiety, too, noticeable by his robotic movements and short sentences. His squad took notice, but they'd already known for a long time that Johnny had feelings for you. It was obvious, he didn't need to say it.

"Reckon that's her that just walked in?" Ghost spoke up, his eyes landing on Johnny who'd stiffened in his seat.

Johnny paid no mind to him, standing from his seat to wave you over.

Gaz chimed in from the corner of the booth, "How'd you tell?"

"Practically droolin' all over the bloody table."

Johnny ignored his ribbing, watching you step carefully toward him, avoiding the other bodies in the room that were reckless and drunk. The smile on your face had loosened his muscles, and when he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, he relaxed into you.

"Good t'see you again," Johnny mumbled against your hair.

"You too," You smiled softly into his chest. "Glad you're in one piece."

Johnny smiled, his hand finding the small of your back as he turned to introduce you to his coworkers. You offered a polite smile, acknowledging the two other men with a soft 'hello' before taking a seat next to Johnny.

He'd taken the liberty of ordering your favourite drink, sitting on the coaster, straw sticking out from the glass. You held back a gracious smile, your eyes meeting his as a show of appreciation when you took a sip.

The conversation between them was entertaining, albeit not entirely understandable given the confidentiality of their work, though the personal anecdotes and light pestering eased your fear of judgement.

Johnny hadn't changed at all- still the outgoing, funny man he left as those months ago, and it relieved you. It was easy to meld into their world, especially once the first impressions were over with.

Gaz turned his attention to you as Johnny rested an arm around your shoulders, his brows lifting with an entertained smirk.

"Johnny's told us quite a bit about you," He interjected. "Feel like I already know you." Gaz's eyes drifted to a Johnny's, who'd given him an icy glare.

"Oh no," You turned your head to meet Johnny's eyes. "What's he told you?"

"Little bit of everything, really."

"Can't get him to the shut the fuck up," Ghost added.

"Piss off," Johnny scoffed.

"Always on about seein' you again," Ghost interjected, ignoring Johnny's command.

Johnny was more than a drink or two away from drunk, but certainly not sober. His cheeks heated up at the mention of how frequently he spoke about you, and though you wanted to believe it was motivated by romantic feelings, you settled for the disappointing notion that it was just the idle conversation he made when he wasn't on duty.

"He is a chatterbox when he's drunk," You nodded, turning your gaze back to Ghost.

"Not just when he's drunk."

You took a sip of your drink, ending the conversation, trying desperately not to fall into the rabbit hole of what-ifs and maybes. You'd been doing it for years now, and it was exhausting. You'd undoubtedly tried to stop, for your own sanity, but it never worked.

"That's true," Your lips formed a tight line, unsure where to take the conversation before it became a source of intrigue for you.

"Enough gosspin', you hens," Johnny scolded, finishing his drink and setting it down with a loud gulp.

You hid a smile, finishing yours and sighing quietly. You checked the time- nearly last call.

"I should head out," You spoke up, clearing your throat as you eyed Johnny.

"Stay for another round," Johnny suggested, his brows furrowing.

You shook your head, "I'm tired, and I'm sure you'd like some time with your friends," You reasoned.

"We've had enough of him," Ghost chimed in. "Take him with you."

You offered a grin, Johnny's eyes narrowing at Ghost before returning to you. He stepped out of the booth, watching you stand before him.

"Let me at least get you home. We can catch up."

"You're sure?"

"Seen enough of these bastards for a lifetime," He teased.

After some polite goodbyes, you walked in stride with Johnny until he opened a cab door for you and slid in beside you.

"Have you talked to your mom?" You asked, your voice louder than intended among the silence of the cab.

"Spoke on the phone a few days ago. She's been pesterin' me to go see her already."

"She misses you," You argued. "She's entitled to her pestering."

"Don't see a lot of pesterin' from you," He quirked up a brow, shifting against the leather seat. "You didn't miss me?"

You rolled your eyes playfully- "I did."

"Hard to believe it."

"Why's that?" Your tone was laced with disbelief, and your eyes glanced to the driver, attempting to lower your voice.

He scoffed, "You've been shyin' away."

"I wasn't shying away," You pursed your lips. "I was nervous."

He knew better than to assume it was because of him- but as your eyes flickered between his, he thought he'd caught a glimpse of longing behind your stone-faced expression. It stoked the fire in his gut that had been burning profusely the entire night.

He shook his head. "You shouldnae pay any mind to Ghost or Gaz."

"They had a lot to say about you," You lifted your head again to find his eyes.

He nodded, "Always takin' the piss."

You tried not to appear disappointed at Johnny's dismissal of their adamance that he'd talked a lot about you. Whether it was true or not, you didn't think you'd ever really know. The lump in your throat was familiar- choking down the feeling of rejection.

The rest of the ride was quiet, with more tension growing between you. Your thigh rubbed against his, locking eyes every few seconds and offering awkward smiles. The air was thick, every moment passing was pure torture as he pressed against you, warmth radiating from his body.

The walk to your apartment door was no different. Unintelligible silence that was brewing a new kind of conversation. You stood outside your door, your eyes meeting for the umpteenth time that night, and Johnny inhaled deeply.

The liquor he'd indulged, combined with seeing you again after months away in less-than desirable conditions made him a bit more susceptible to risky choices. His teeth were nearly chattering as he deliberated whether or not to tell you just how much he did miss you, and wanted you.

He didn't want to lose your friendship- or you in general. If he had to be the one you relied on solely for platonic support, he'd accept it, but he couldn't continue through the unknown without speaking his mind before he lost it.

Watching you, even just as you fiddled with the keys in your hands, made him warm. You made him want to fall to his knees.

He cleared his throat, his hands finding the depths of his pockets as he caught your attention.

"They're not exaggerating," He said. When your brows furrowed, silence following, he continued. "I talk about you a lot. Miss you, a lot."

"I miss you too," You offered, in the most platonic tone you could muster.

He breathed in again, nearly frustrated.

"I cannae get you off my mind," He met your gaze, his eyes vulnerable as he began to unveil the simmering feelings under his skin. "I talk about you 'cause I think about you- all the goddamn time."

Your heart was rushing blood to your ears, utter shock settling in as he finished his last sentence. You were frowning- confused and yet excited at the same time. It was hardly believable that Johnny- the man you'd convinced yourself was just a friend- felt the way he did. The same way you did.

He watched your expression unfold, confusion at first, then your eyes softened, your parted lips closing together.

"You think about me?" You asked, your brows twitching. "What do you think about?"

He nearly laughed. Partially due to the nerves heating his body to an uncomfortable level, and because it was never obvious, to you. He'd been burning to get rid of the weight on his chest, the secret he'd kept for years, the charade he put on when he was with you.

He unintentionally moved in closer, a step in your personal space which forced your back against the door. He stood taller, staring down at you with eyes full of sincerity.

"Everything," He said. He was a bit apprehensive as his hand slid around your waist. "How you smell. Your smile." You were nearly chest to chest, your clueless expression egging him on. "Wonderin' how you taste. What you feel like."

Your breathing increased, rushed breaths of adrenaline fanning over his chest. He had inhaled a deep breath at the mention of feeling you- under him, on top of him, truthfully he didn't care.

"You think of me that way?" You asked.

"Christ," He shook his head, a grin forming. "Man bears his soul to you and you're still askin' questions."

He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours without wasting another moment.

Your body seemed to freeze for a beat, taking a moment to catch up with your mind as you realized he'd kissed you. It was soft and gentle, apprehensive in nature like everything else about that night.

The hand on your waist tightened its grip, pulling you closer when you finally responded to his kiss. Your own hands lifted to his shoulders, wrapping around lazily as he used his other to trap you between himself and the door.

It started light, a bit uncoordinated, testing the waters before they changed to raging waves that sloshed around in your stomach. He tasted like whiskey- smokey and acrid, with alcohol on his tastebuds. He was warm, his hands grabbing whatever part of you they could reasonably hold, desperately pulling you in closer and tighter.

He pulled back shortly after, finding your eyes. "Any other questions?" He teased, a smug grin on his lips.

"Do you wanna come in?" You asked, tucking your lip between your teeth.

He chuckled softly, nodding as you unlocked the door and swung it open. He pushed it closed behind him, yanking his jacket off and letting it fall to the floor as he grabbed your waist.

He pulled you into him again, swiftly lifting you to his hips. You wrapped your legs around him, reattaching your lips to his as he trudged down the hallway to your room, dropping you on your back.

He'd crawled over you, still latched onto him, sliding your tongue against his as he let some of his weight fall onto you. You exhaled harshly against his face, your hands reaching his jaw, pulling him as close as he could get.

His target changed, moving from the plush skin of your lips to the hot flesh of your neck, he left longing kisses to your collarbone.

"You've no idea how long I've been waitin' to kiss you," He muttered against your neck, warm breath fanning your cheek and ear.

Shivers lit up the nerves in your spine, your hands clinging to his shoulders.

"Is that all you've been waiting for?" You whispered against his cheek.

You could feel the smile form over his lips, "Nae."

He lifted his shirt over his head, revealing the physique he'd worked hard to keep from PT into his active service. It made your teeth clench together, taking in the sight of him, following the dark hair from his pectorals to his lower abdomen.

"I have lots o' things I've been waitin' to do to you."

His arms slithered around your thighs, tugging you into his body; you let out a quiet yelp at the sudden movement. His fingers undid the closures of your jeans, sliding them down your legs with ease, discarding them in the dim light of your room.

Your breathing hadn't settled, your head cocking to the side as you watched him crouch between your thighs, licking his lips. You hummed with anticipation.

His calloused palm ran up your thigh, over your stomach to palm your breast. Your chest heaved with excitement and anxiety.

"Take it off," He ordered, glancing up at you.

You met his eyes, snapping back to reality when you realized he was referring to your shirt. Quickly, you tugged it over your head, unclasping your bra before settling on your back.

Your hand inadvertently found the crown of his head, soft fingers running through his hair. He moaned softly, almost a purr as he leaned into your touch. His eyes fell to the lacy fabric of your panties and he sighed.

"Steamin' Jesus- you drive me mad," He groaned, his fingers squeezing around your thighs. "Lie back, doll."

You leaned back, watching with anticipation as he craned his neck, his breath fanning your lower half. His apprehensive tongue found your clit within seconds, causing you to jolt in his grasp. You felt him smile against you, though he didn't allow you time to recuperate as he flicked his tongue against your clit again.

You gasped quietly, tugging gently at his hair, your head falling back as he acclimated to your body and it's reactions.

Every squirming movement, sudden jerk- he held you in place, a strong grip forcing your thighs apart while he devoured you. You hadn't expected the ambition from Johnny, and were pleasantly surprised when he kept you spread open before him, his nose bumping against your pubic bone, his tongue gliding over your clit, his lips surrounding the sensitive flesh of your pussy.

"Johnny," You whispered, broken and whimpering, a show of gratitude.

He mumbled against you, lost in the sweet revelations that were your moans and gasps, your desperate voice begging for him. It was nearly overwhelming, realizing that it was your body twisting in his hands, your sticky skin sliding against his, breathless calls of his name when his tongue made contact with a particularly sensitive spot.

Your fingers pulled at his short hair, urging him to keep going, eyes squeezing shut as you enveloped yourself fully in the moment. It was nearly impossible to keep quiet, sure to anger the neighbours you shared walls with, but keeping silent was the furthest thing from your mind among the warming pleasure descending over you.

Your incoherent moans, echoing off the walls of your bedroom, became more frequent. Your head turning side to side, glancing down at his white knuckles and icy gaze- you fell apart with his head buried between your thighs, his tongue savouring every ounce of slick liquid that dripped from you, and as your pussy pulsated against him, he groaned.

You laid still, regaining your composure, sucking in a deep breath as he surfaced from between your thighs.

"Good?" He asked- though the grin on his face alluded to the fact that he knew the answer already- you'd soaked his face, his lips shimmering with your arousal, red and puffy.

"Good," You confirmed. "Really good."

His eyes blinked lazily, the same cocky grin on his face until you reached for his jeans. Emboldened with adrenaline and blissful excitement, you undid his zipper.

He was Johnny- your friend, Johnny- that you'd known for so long it was almost fate that you'd end up together. But your eyes met in the yellowed glow of the beside lamp, and he wasn't your friend, anymore. The feelings you'd shoved down, pushed far out of reach, had come bubbling to the surface once more.

Your stomach still fluttered with post-orgasm energy, though your mind was focused solely on taking everything he'd offer. His face dropped as your hand sneaked under the constraints of his jeans, dipping into his boxers.

Your hand reached his cock, pleasantly surprised by the feeling of hard flesh, soft and warm. He grunted quietly when your hand ran up and down his cock, exhaling sharply when your eyes met.

"Fuck me," He mumbled.

He leaned forward on his knees, connecting your lips again until his moans forced all the air out of him and he surfaced for a deep breath. His forehead knocked against yours, your lip tucked under your teeth as you watched him squirm in your grasp. His gaze had moved as he watched your hand squeeze and massage his cock, his hands planted firmly on either side of your thighs, weak with effort.

Your name left his lips in barely a whisper, and then his calloused hand wrapped under your jaw to push you against the mattress beneath him.

"Plenty o' time for that later," He said, dropping his jeans past his hips. "I need to be inside you."

"Please," You nodded, urging him to continue.

The silky head of his cock pushed against your clit, gliding down to your leaking pussy before slowly sliding inside you. Your head fell back against the pillow as you acclimated to his cock stretching you out, a guttural moan releasing from your throat.

It was slow and calculated, his eyes locked onto your expressions, only moving when your hips jolted up, your hands grabbed at his shoulders.

"More," You uttered. "Please, more."

A flash of a grin melted the concentration on his face, though quickly dissipated when he met your cervix with hesitation. He reached over you, gripping the headboard with white knuckles.

"Bloody Christ," He grunted. "You're tight, doll," He was breathless, though exerting little effort as he stumbled along, his hips barely moving against you. "And so fuckin' wet," He nearly moaned.

Your hips met his, a flush of heat overtaking your body at his words; he'd teased you before, swore worse than anyone you'd ever met, but the filth coming from his mouth made your lips part in shock.

He settled into a slow rhythm, his hips rutting into yours as you lifted your legs to his sides. Your hands clung to the back of his neck, meeting his eyes with an expression of pure lust and pleasure.

Your eyes shut, basking in the moment, configuring your body in a way that allowed him even deeper. Not a second later, he dipped his head down to your ear, his low moans and grunts against your cheek.

"Look at me," He ordered. "I wanna see you take it."

Your eyes flashed open, finding his amongst the movement.

Your words were choked up by gasps for air, especially as he sped up his pace, grinding into you, fucking his cock deep inside your pussy until you whimpered.

You could only utter his name- quiet announcements of pleasure. Your fingers slid between your bodies to find your clit, lubrication from your pussy helping to glide your fingers in circles around the sensitive bud until you clenched around him.

"You close?" He asked, tilting his head to watch your expression. "I feel you squeezin' me. Cum on it, doll," He exhaled.

He moved even closer, chest to chest, one hand now wrapped around your thigh, the other holding his body weight off of you.

His thrusts were unforgiving, even as your eyes widened and your chest broke with a loud moan.

"Right there," You nodded. "Keep it right there."

"You like it there? Deep in your cunt?" His lips were close enough that you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

"Yes," You whimpered, broken and desperate.

"Knew you'd like it deep- like my cock buried in you," He grinned momentarily. "Don't you?"

"Oh God," You nearly sobbed. "Yes- Johnny, yes."

Your thighs clenched around him, your pussy squeezing his cock as you came. His pace stuttered for a moment, your muscles milking his cock as you froze in place, your head against the pillow, lips parted, eyes glued to Johnny's.

"That's it," He cooed.

He continued thrusting, even when your limbs had liquified and you'd tried your best to hang onto him. You ignored the fatigue in your muscles, pulling him into a long kiss before craning your neck, whispering into his lips.

"Cum in me. Please."

He could've shivered, a chilling statement that made his cock rigid inside you. You were even more wet than before, noisy, messy arousal seeping from you and dripping down to the bedsheets. It was audible, loud- enough to push him over the edge, but your request immediately had him releasing warm cum deep inside you.

He breathed out, a few twitches in his body as his orgasm finished, before he slowly pulled out and laid down beside you. He reached over, tugging you into him before placing a kiss on your lips.

"Shame we hadn't done that a bit sooner," He sighed, earning a short laugh from you.

"We've got plenty of time to make up for it."

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