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#ghost x fem! reader
ghostandsoap · 6 months
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Feeling You
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader Tags: Light smut. Cockwarming. Ghost being a softie. Word Count: 1.0k "Just happy you're here."
⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡
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⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡
In the quiet sanctuary of your shared solitude, you and Ghost sat chest to chest, your hearts beating in a rhythm that echoed the symphony of your love.
The world outside ceased to exist as you lost yourselves in each other's presence, your souls whispering secrets that only you could understand.
The warmth of his body seeped into yours, blurring the lines between where one ended and the other began. Your breaths intermingled, a testament to the intimacy that you shared. Each inhale was a silent promise, each exhale was a sigh of contentment.
The only sounds were your breathing, heartbeats, and the occasional whimper from you when Ghost shifted his hips underneath you.
Ghost's cock was nestled far inside of you, his tip pushed against a sensitive spot that you didn't even know existed until just now. He stretched your walls so perfectly and sat so comfortably inside of you that Ghost felt high off of it.
You had soaked his thighs and lower stomach, your arousal leaking on and around him. You weren't much better, because your inner thighs were dripping.
The two of you were spending the week together, not a single plan or obligation to be had. Ghost had every intention of staying in and keeping you as close as possible. It wasn't often that he had this opportunity, and he would be a fool to let it pass him by. The week consisted of movies, snacks, cuddles, and just about anything else that didn't require either of you to leave.
The two of you had been lounging on your living room sofa, just watching some cheesy documentary that you both agreed to watch. It was more for filler noise than anything, because the two of you had managed to chat with one another through the entirety of it.
When the film was over, you turned off the TV and your side table lamp to prepare to close your flat up for the night -- however, Ghost wanted just a few more minutes.
This was about an hour ago when Ghost had set you up on his lap. Mainly just because he liked having the chance to look up at you and he loved watching you sit on his thick, muscular thighs.
Frankly though, he hadn't anticipated this.
Somewhere along the way, your cotton sleep shorts and T-shirt were discarded, along with his sweats. Your clothes were tossed aside to be retrieved in the morning.
The two of you had shared some sweet kisses, and all the shifting around prompted Ghost to slide his cock into you slowly when you were wet and ready.
However, Ghost held you still when you tried to bounce on him, which caused you to raise a brow. Ghost was sitting up straight against the back of the couch, holding onto you in his lap like you were his lifeline. It took you a few moments to settle into this arrangement that he was making.
Eventually, the two of you morphed around one another like you were the most perfect fit. Like two pieces of the most beautiful picture.
It was inevitable for you to start squirming though. After all, it was hard to resist him when he was literally right under you.
Ghost groaned and huffed when you rolled your hips forward, one of his hands coming to your hip to restrain you.
"Sit still," He said, kissing your forehead. "I just want to feel you for a bit."
"Sorry," You sighed, head still resting on his shoulder. "Just getting comfortable."
"It's alright, doll..." He chuckled. "Just happy you're here."
Ghost's fingers traced paths of affection on your skin, each touch igniting sparks that danced beneath the surface. The silence returned, filled with the unspoken words of love that hung heavy in the air.
In this moment, you were not just two bodies sitting chest to chest; you were two souls intertwined in an eternal dance of love. Your connection was palpable, a force that defied logic and reason.
As the two of you sat there, Ghost realized that he was living a life he never thought he would ever have. He was experiencing a love that was uniquely his. A kind of love that he once thought he was far too damaged and broken for.
"You're so beautiful," He almost whispered. "My pretty girl..."
You pulled your head back to look at him, your eyes sleepy and cheeks glowing. He loved you so much he could barely even understand it.
"I love you." You remarked, rotating your hips in a way that was more involuntary than anything else.
Ghost couldn't help but let out a low laugh when your grinding down against him was returned with a slow, yet firm snap of his pelvis into you. He knew that this charade wouldn't last long, because one of you was going to crack sooner or later.
"I love you." He returned, his lips meeting yours in a meaningful kiss.
He didn't stop you this time when you started to rock your hips against his cock, the feeling of moving inside of you causing a flutter of his eyes.
He couldn't deny you any longer. He had to let you have your way with him. Truth be told, it was starting to drive him a bit mad anyways.
Your movements along with Ghost's were slow and careful...sensual. He wanted to feel you for as long as he possibly could. He would do this forever and ever if he could.
His cock felt insane inside of you as you fucked him at such a glacial pace. It was insanity because Ghost couldn't believe that he could ever deserve something as good as this...someone as good as you.
The slow rise and fall of your body onto his made both of your hearts begin to beat faster. The two of you craving the other like you were the only source of life.
And in the sound of your shared heartbeat, you found a melody that only your hearts could compose.
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johnpriceslamb · 6 months
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GHOST CAREGIVER???
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Strawberry shortcake and snowflake cookie scented candles swirled in the air. Burberry fluffy blankets wrapped around his sweet baby, with stuffies plastered here and there.
your big beady eyes look up at his, nestled in the fluffy blankie. A soft giggle escaping your throat as your hand comes to curiously touch his mask. He squints his eyes.
“Silly,” you giggle.
“Mm, yeah?” Ghosts voice rumbles from underneath the balaclava and mask, “I look a bit dumb, don’t I sweetheart?”
“Not dumb, papa!” you babble happily, “My silly daddy.” He lets out a soft hum, caressing your cheek with his rough thumb. Being a man that was short on words, he made up for his acts of services and gentle affection.
“Y’know what’s even more silly, bug?” He croaked.
“What?” You curiously squeaked.
“You.” A squeal and a giggle escapes your lips as his fingers come to poke at your sensitive sides.
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naivegh0ul · 5 months
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Thinking about Ghost helping you out when your breastmilk is clogged 🥴
I mean, he was totally obsessed with your chest before the baby, before you were even pregnant, but now? With your tits all swollen with milk, your nipples puffy constantly? Oh, he's completely crazy for you.
He'd be a little jealous of the baby. They get to have their lips on your pretty tits all the time, why can't he? He almost creams his pants just from you asking him all shyly to help you with your milk because it's backed up and you're sore.
You're not getting him off you after that. His head is constantly under your shirt, lips wrapped around your nipple and his hand pawing at your tits, squeezing and squishing them lightly as he tries to coax the milk out, hoping and praying that he'll get to taste some.
He'd slobber all over your chest, saliva spilling down as he moans and sucks roughly on your perky, sensitive nipples.
"Mmh, come on, sweetheart. Let me taste it, be a good girl." He'd mumble, letting out a loud, lust-filled groan as he felt a small but steady trickle of your milk spilling into his mouth.
"That's a good girl. So good f'r me. Perfect."
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chaosandmarigolds · 16 days
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My fav genre of Simon Riley is the: can't flirt for shit version, where he' gets flustered or just...not comprehending
ie:
"You know....we go could go back to my place."
"We live together. Obviously we're going back home."
"Simon-oh my god just go with it."
"....Sorry, I mean I would love to go back to my home where my bed is and go watch tv on my telly and in my living room-"
"no, no, no it's- no, stop."
---
"Oooo, look at you...my handsome man, my beautiful boy, oh...i love you so much."
...
"Simon?"
....
"baby are you breathing?"
quite literally squeaking, "Thank you."
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tojisun · 25 days
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oh but simon holding you by your waist for easy manhandling, rutting your clothed cunt against his chub, crooning and cooing about how pretty you look. you’re so wet, your slick dampening your panties, and simon teases that if he keeps this up, you’ll probably start to get even his grey sweats wet :((
“simon, please,” you mewl, squirming, your fists tight on his worn out tee. “please fuck me ‘ready.”
simon puffs a fond laugh, his grin is his only answer, before his bulk falls back to the cushions of the couch, dragging you closer to his front. it makes your tits press flushed against his chest and simon shoots a quick look at the visage they make, his rosy cheeks turning brighter.
“goddamn, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice rumbling in a pleased groan. “y’really are a sight f’r sore eyes.”
his hand falls from your waist to map out the tender parts of your hip before falling just atop the swell of your ass. your breath hitches at the weight of his touch, fire scorching down your spine, bubbling with anticipation.
simon studies you throughout, eyes furrowed in his silent delight. he loves you like this, after all. he loves seeing you all whiny and begging, all teary-eyed and warbled murmurs. he loves feeling the tremors racing through your body, your desire bloating, expanding, so tangible as you turn desperate eyes to him, pleas dripping from your pouty lips.
yeah, simon thinks, feeling his breathing go ragged. you always did know how to beg prettily.
he squeezes your ass, giving in, and you hiss, eyes fluttering at his fondling touch. he begins rutting you against him again, grinding your cunt over his bulge, and you squeak, your strength getting zapped out of your knees.
it makes you tumble, and you fall with no grace. it makes you slip, your already-sensitive clit grinding against simon’s chub.
you let out a gasped out moan at the glide, your eyes crossing at the quick eruption of pleasure that seizes you. simon catches you before you can topple out of his lap completely, his laughter trickling from his scarred lips.
“relax, doll,” he teases, thick arms surrounding you fully. “can’t have you hurtin’ y’rself.”
you sniff, so overwhelmed with your need, and rest your cheek on his shoulder. simon adjusts you on top of him again, before he noses along your temple, breathing you in.
“i’ve got you, kid,” simon croons over your muffled whines, brushing his knuckles against your jaw. “i promised you, didn’t i?”
“yeah,” you murmur, voice breathy. “need you now.”
“of course.” simon presses his lips on the top of your head again. “i’m all yours, after all.”
he wonders what he must have done to be given the chance to have a darling dear like you love him.
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ave661 · 28 days
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yawnderu · 4 months
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''You're such a fucking asshole and—'' Your words are interrupted by a whiny moan when Keegan starts to thrust up, not letting you get distracted by anything despite your rant.
''Yeah? Keep going, baby. Ride this fucking cock.'' You do as he says, getting on your feet to be able to ride him harder and deeper, the tip of his cock hitting your spongy cervix every single time he goes all the way in. One of your hands is on his hard chest for support, while the other one is holding his jaw, keeping his mouth open to hear the downright lewd groans leaving his lips.
''And... annoying. Cocky. Arrogant—'' Each insult is punctuated by you dropping on his cock, walls tightening up even more when you feel him throbbing inside you.
''Horrible.'' You keep ranting about him despite how good he feels inside you, despite the way his fat cock has your lips gripping on him for dear life. He is all of those things and more, but the tension that has been building up to this day was impossible to ignore. You're impaling yourself down on his cock and he's letting you, mouth open slightly ajar and eyes rolling to the back of his head.
''Fuck— yeah?'' He finds the energy to speak despite the way you're destroying his cock, not even thrusting up anymore and simply letting you do all the work. His hand trails up your spine, grasping at the hair on the back of your neck and keeping your head in place, letting you ride his cock despite his rough hold.
His hand lets go only to slap your face, making you ride faster despite the stinging pain. What a fucking asshole. It doesn't take long for you to return the favor, hand coming up to slap the annoying smirk off of his face— and it works shortly, he looks shocked at getting slapped back, yet pure amusement is soon written all over his annoyingly handsome face, seeing it as a challenge.
You know you fucked up when his calloused hands grasp your waist, holding you in place before using his strength to switch positions, now on top of you. His cock thrusts even deeper like this, hitting your cervix over and over at an almost punishing pace.
''Acting like a fucking bitch all day—'' He groans out, words interrupted by the sharp hiss leaving his lips at the way your pussy tightens more around his cock. He looks down at your lips, leaning closer while managing to keep his brutal thrusts.
''Open that fucking mouth, baby.'' You obey, too fucked out to even think much about it. You're barely able to register the way he spits into your mouth before kissing you, tongues wrapping around the other in a disgusting mess of spit. His hand comes up to grope your tit, fingers squeezing and pulling on the nipple every few seconds as he kisses you, ignoring the way your mixed spit is dripping down the corners of your lips.
The air is heavy with the smell of sex and the sounds of your muffled moans, his grip on your body bruising, fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you with an almost animalistic hunger. He doesn't stop making out with you even when his thrusts become even more brutal, spilling into you with a final, deep thrust. His hot white cum filling you up only makes your body tense up, riding out your orgasms together before he collapses on top of you, his weight keeping you pinned to the bed.
''Get off of me, fatass.'' Your protests go ignored, the asshole only making himself even heavier on top of you even when you try your best to get him off.
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They Help You Practice
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Task Force 141 asks you to be the bait for a secret assignment. So, they make you audition for the role. You end up getting gangbanged by the whole team and loving it!
TW: gangbang, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, gay sex, degradation, explicitly consensual, spit? please check AO3 link at bottom for full tag list
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You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 
“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”
You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 
Price continued,
“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”
“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 
“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”
A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,
“What kind of bait, sir?”
“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”
“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.
The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 
“Good. Let's brief the team.”
Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 
“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”
You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 
The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.
“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”
Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 
“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”
“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 
Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,
“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”
“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”
“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 
“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 
Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,
“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”
“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 
“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”
Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 
You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.
But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 
Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,
“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”
Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.
You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 
You smiled,
“Well, do I look the part?”
Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,
“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”
“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”
Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,
“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”
“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”
“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”
“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”
“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.
Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,
“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”
“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”
Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,
“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”
The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 
Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,
“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “or down?”
The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 
“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 
The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,
“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”
You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 
Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,
“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 
Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 
“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”
“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  
He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 
Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 
Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,
“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”
You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,
“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”
You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 
“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”
You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,
“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”
You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 
He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 
“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 
The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 
“You alright, babes?” He laughed.
You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 
Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 
“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.
He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 
You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 
Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 
You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 
Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 
Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,
“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slut, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”
He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 
“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”
You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 
“He’s not allowed to come in you, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”
Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.
Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 
Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 
“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 
You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 
He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 
“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”
You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 
“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”
He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 
“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.
Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 
Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 
Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,
“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”
Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 
“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”
Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,
“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here, lass. Breathe with me, lass.”
He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 
It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 
Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.
You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 
He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,
“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”
“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.
Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,
“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”
He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 
As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.
“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”
“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 
Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 
Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,
“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”
He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 
“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 
“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”
“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 
Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 
They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,
“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”
“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.
“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”
“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”
“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 
He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 
You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,
“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”
Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 
“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”
“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”
“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 
Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 
Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.
“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 
“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”
The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 
Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,
“Missing your masked man already?”
You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,
“He’s a little…preoccupied.”
Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 
Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 
“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”
He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 
When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 
“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”
You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 
Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 
“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.
“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 
“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 
“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”
Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,
“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”
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ghostandsoap · 1 year
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Haunted Sleep
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Civilian! Reader Warnings: Mentions of trauma. Nightmares. Panic attack. Anxiety. Word Count: 1.7k A/N: Primary blog is @allixiler​​, so note that any replies from that account means that it’s me! Can’t make replies from a side blog SMH. “It’ll stop in a minute.”
⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡
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⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡
Your voice was smooth and serene as you attempted to soothe the man wrapped around you.  He was clinging to you for dear life, holding on like you were a balloon that would float off into the universe if he let go of the string.  
“You’re okay, Simon. You’re safe.” You rocked him, kissing his head that was buried into your chest. 
He could barely hear you. Your words were just hardly louder than the pounding drum of his heartbeat in his ears. His blood was running blazing hot. All four of his limbs were tingling with adrenaline, and his core ached from actively trying to fight his panic response. 
The bulk of a man that was usually bold and tall was now trembling and had crumbled completely. The way his muscles were contracting and releasing over and over in such an aggressive way had him fighting for a real gulp of air. His violent trembling and his profuse sweating was only the physical representation of what was going on in that reeling head of his. 
His jaw was clenched as hard as he could manage. The muscles of his face were tight and aching as he fought as hard as he could to keep the pools of tears in his eyes from overflowing and spilling onto his cheek. He didn’t want you to see him cry. Ghost didn’t cry. He couldn’t stand the thought of you seeing him at his absolute weakest. 
The sheets were damp with his perspiration, his side of the bed completely disheveled from his thrashing in his troubled sleep. His bloodshot and waterlogged eyes made their way to the digital alarm clock on your bedside table – the digits on the screen blaring red. 
3:18 a.m.
As much as he hated you seeing him in such a meltdown, this wasn’t the first time that this had happened. He mentally cursed himself for waking you up for the second time this week in the dead of night. 
“I’m fine.” Ghost croaked, his words overly sharp as a way of compensating for how vulnerable he was.  
He wasn’t mad at you. Far from it actually. If anything, you were the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart and ripping at the seams.  
Nightmares had been a constant in Ghost’s life. 
They stemmed from his childhood and hardships (definitely an understatement) growing up, but as time had gone on – they seemed to center more around his adult life. 
Specifically, his career choice. 
The terrors usually would come and go, happening multiple times a week for a few weeks before they would disappear for a while, only to return just as soon as he thought that they were finally gone for good. They were vivid flashing and moving images of his brushes with death and the close calls of his colleagues and friends. Sometimes they were horror dreams of what had happened and other times they were depictions of what could happen.  
Ghost knew the risk. Everybody did. It was a risk that he was well aware of every time he departed on a mission. It was a risk that he had always been willing to take for the sake of what he was passionate about and what he found to be important. 
Ghost tried to cut himself as much slack as his pride and ego would allow. He understood that the average person couldn’t do what he did. Most people wouldn’t want to throw themselves into the line of fire like he did. He wasn’t the only one that suffered. Ghost had only disclosed his struggle to Soap once or twice, a struggle that Ghost learned that Soap shared with him. In a weird way, Ghost would’ve been concerned if what he had seen and encountered didn’t haunt him in the times where his mind was quiet. 
Over time, Ghost had learned to live with the nightmares. His initial panic didn’t last as long as it used to. The sweating, heavy breathing, racing heart, and the fight to get calm usually could be resolved within 15 or 20 minutes. That didn’t offer Ghost much consolation though.  
Because that only meant that he was used to them – not that he was getting better.  
It was one thing dealing with them alone. It was another when he had the woman he loved thrown into the mix. Ghost knew that at some point he’d face this obstacle. He knew he’d have one of his nightmares at the most inconvenient time – and in a way that would inconvenience you. 
The first time had happened earlier in the week, around 2:30 a.m. on the quietest night possible. He had jolted straight up off the mattress with a gasp so deep that his lungs and chest were sore the next day. The sudden disturbance snatched you out of your own slumber, and his reaction of fear was so foreign to you that it nearly gave you a panic attack yourself. As an instinct, you had reached for him, grabbing his bicep as a show of concern. He had flinched as if your touch had burned him, clearly frightened and panic stricken.  
He hadn’t allowed you to touch him for the rest of the night after that. Embarrassed and ashamed, he had fled to the bathroom to get calmed down on his own. He left you confused and close to a heart attack, but even more worried about him than anything.  
When he returned a half hour later, he didn’t speak a word. 
He silently and less shakily changed into a fresh T-shirt and pair of sweatpants that weren’t soaked with sweat. He ignored your questions of concern, and he crawled back into bed without saying anything other than “I’m fine.” You couldn’t get anything out of him, despite your attempts. There was an elephant in the room the next day. Ghost didn’t want to talk about it, and you were hesitant to bring it up. You didn’t speak about it verbally, but your usual shows of affection were doubled and lingering, a physical sign that you were there for him. 
Even though the next two nights were nightmare-free, Ghost’s guilt simmered and boiled over. He felt terrible for pushing you away when all you wanted was to help. Closing himself off to you was no good for either of you. He owed you honesty.  
He didn’t scurry off when the second nightmare of the week hit. You had reacted the same way – with care and understandable concern. He did the only thing that he could think to do. 
He latched onto you as if you were the only person in the world, and you held onto him as if his life depended on it. 
“You’re not fine,” You remarked as sweetly as you could and in a way that wasn’t pressuring. “I’m here for you.”
I’m here for you. 
The words rang in his head and stayed there for a few extra seconds. It amazed him (and also confused him) how he was able to be so lucky. He hadn’t done anything notable in his mind. He hadn’t done anything that deserved the reward and blessing of such an incredible woman – a woman that he reminded himself daily that he didn’t deserve. 
The woman who offered herself as counsel to him over and over. The woman who loved him endlessly and without judgment. The woman who was there for him at every turn. The woman who undoubtedly cared for him a whole lot more than he could ever possibly understand. 
The woman who was able to see right through the hard outer shell that protected the real Simon Riley – a scarred, battered man who kept his heart on a shelf as a way of protecting the little bit of pureness and love that was left from what had already been cruelly robbed from him. 
“It’ll stop in a minute.” He shuddered, referring to the vigorous quivering of his entire body. 
You were beginning to put the pieces together. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that a man with a past like Simon and the career that he held could potentially come to seek him out in what were supposed to be his most calm and unguarded moments. Frankly, in that sense, there wasn’t much you could say to console him. The best you could do was sit with him in his moments of high anxiety and emotional distress. 
The bottom side of your hand made tender trails up and down his back, caressing him through the fabric of his t-shirt. Sympathetic kisses were littered across the crown of his head and to his temples. Each one made his chest flutter, a feeling that he had only been getting used to since knowing you. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked when his trembling had faded into more of a dull shake. 
“No,” Ghost answered a bit too quickly for his own liking, to which he corrected himself promptly. “No, just…not yet.” 
You nodded with understanding. This was progress, albeit a small bit. Even if he wasn’t talking about it, it felt good to know that he was at least opening up the showing of his feelings to you. You didn’t want him to be scared. With all the frights that he had been put through, you never wanted him to be anything but content. If you could have it your way, you’d take the nightmares from him, because then at least they wouldn’t mean anything to you or hold any personal reality to them. 
“Love, if you want to go back to sleep, I can crash on the couch downstairs so-” 
“No, no. I want to stay right here.” You replied, not wanting to leave him alone for even a moment. 
He was relieved to hear you say it, but he wouldn’t have blamed you the other way. Not much else was said for the remainder of the night. He fell back asleep within the next hour, his ear pressed up against your sternum, where he could fear the faintest sound of your heart beating. 
The pace of your heartbeat had slowed back to a regular rhythm in the last few minutes. Upon realizing that he wasn’t in immediate danger, your initial alarmed response was called off. It sent him to sleep gradually, easing him back into his state of sleep. The steady rate of your heart was oddly relaxing to him. It felt like a privilege to be able to listen to the very piece of you that gave you life. 
A life that he was very, very thankful for.
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johnpriceslamb · 3 months
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Hiii, i love your writing so much!! I just saw your requests were open and wanted to ask for a Ghost x fem!reader. Maybe she is sick and little and Simon has to take care of her. Of course only if you want to, no pressure. All your work is so adorable i just wanted to babble about it really (ˊᗜˋ) ♡
𝓢𝓘𝓒𝓚 𝓓𝓐𝓨𝓢 ,
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˚₊‧꒰ you’re sick. And off in fairy-land. Simon takes care of you. ꒱ ‧₊˚
BEFORE YOU PROCEED ! ‧₊˚ ┊ littlespace ! reader . fem ! reader. afab ! reader. caregiver ! Simon Riley . sickiesickie reader :c . da snifliez . reader is mentioned 2 be physically smaller den simon . not proof-read . OOC !!! simon . 1.3k words
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˚₊‧꒰ 🍼 ꒱ ‧₊˚ A sniffle and a sneeze.
That is what Simon had woken up to.
There you lay, sniffly and hiccupy at the far side of the bed. You sneeze again into a tissue. A teddy bear placed on your dainty lap as you whimper meekly.
You want to be held, but you don’t want to either. Hot and icky from the fever you have just caught.
You want papa.
You turn your head around- and only then does he capture you into his strong, warm, papa-bear arms. You’re not sure if you’re grateful about the heat he radiates and produce, but you’re clearly happy to be in his arms.
He squishes you as if you were just a little teddy bear. Your cherub cheek lies on his chest as you sniffle again. “Papa..”
“I know, I know luv.” He grunts softly, murmuring soft praises of affections in your ear- so much alike of sweet serenades being hummed. He presses a firm kiss on your forehead, “You stay ‘ere, yeah? I’ll make you some-
Clearly, you did NOT want him to go. As he stood up whilst mumbling, your hand clings onto his sleeves with a soft sniffle. This elicits a soft hum. Big beady eyes stare up at him, lashes dew-dropped with tears from the discomfort you were feeling as of now.
His heart pangs. He hates seeing you like this.
“Wan’ papa.” You simply state, shaking your head stubbornly. Clingy girl.
“Luv, I have to..” He trails on when he sees that sad look on your face. Much alike of a baby puppy seeing her owner at the door, closing it in front of her face. He clears his throat, calloused fingers coming to rub off the dew-drops that stain your chubby cheeks. For your sake and his, he has to be firm.
You begin to tear up again. Argh. He can’t do it.
Then- without a word, he grabs your fluffy burberry blanket and throws it over his shoulder. And he picks you up with the utmost care in the world- as if you yourself was just a porcelain puppy. Your little legs wrap around his waist, face in his chest, with arms around his broad shoulders.
“Papa.” You babble sweetly, nuzzling your cheek on his chest.
“Mhm. That’s me, bug.” A faint smile on his cracked lips is evident.
He plops you on the sofa, before wrapping you up in the soft blanket like a bunny nestled into its burrow.
“Y’want chicken soup with yoghurt or bananas, luv?” He calls from the kitchen.
You sneeze, peaking your head from the blanket to watch papa, “Mmm.. Yoghurt.” You hear a can being easily opened, and a slow pour to the ceramic bowls. The ones with the floral print. Your favourite bowl.
“Strawberry or.. Vanilla?” He asks with a gentle grunt.
You blink the sleepiness out of your eye. “Wan’.. Strawberry.”
You hear a low hum, indicating that he heard your little voice from afar.
You feel dizzy from the fever that had come to bite you. You feel miserable without papa. You let out a weak whimper from the sofa, “Paaapaaaa..”
“I hear ya, luv. I’m comin’ soon.” With a small plastic spoon and a bowl of chicken soup warmed up from the microwave, he comes to you with a stride brooding yet loving. He beckons for you to sit up, and you do so with a bit of trouble. You weakly crawl to him.
“‘Aaah,’ baby.” He cheekily coos. A spoonful of yummy chicken soup near your mouth. It oozes with a scent so homey and comfy, you eagerly open your mouth and allow him to put the spoon in.
But.. You droop.
You can’t taste it. At all.
You try to stiffen the tears that almost drip from your waterlines. It coats your wispy lashes as you blink multiple times to get rid of the dewdrops.
He looks at you with a sad frown, “What’s wrong, bug?”
With your frustration and sadness from just taking one spoonful- he notices, “Ah.”
“Can’t taste?” He places the spoon in the bowl to rub your head affectionately.
“Nuh-uh,” You shake your head sadly.
“‘m sorry luv,” He grabs the spoon and gently places it in your mouth again- and again, again. Until the bowl was empty, “At least you know it’s warm, yeah?”
You brighten up just a bit, “..Uhuh.”
“Warm just like your blanket,” A soft squish to your cheek. This elicits a hoarse giggle from your throat- and a soft sneeze.
“Still want the yoghurt?”
You look down at your fuzzy socks, tiny tots wiggling from inside out of pure boredom. “Uhm.. mhm.”
“Good girl.” He brings the yoghurt to your mouth. You can’t taste it, but at least it makes your throat feel just a bit better.
“Tummy full now..” You babble sweetly.
“Mhm? That right, bug?” Standing up to go put the dishes in the sink to wash up quickly, he does. He throws the empty yoghurt tub in the bin with a quick step on the pedestal of the trash-can.
“Luv?” He calls out for you from the kitchen-area.
“?” You peak your head from the blanket again, staring at him with those sleepy baby eyes of yours.
“Y’know I love you..”
Suspicious arises in your tummy. “..Uhuh.”
You squint your beady eyes, a tiny cough escaping your throat.
“And I want what’s best f’ you..”
“…Oki.”
“And.. you want what’s best f’ yourself, don’t you?”
Smart little girl you were. “Nuh-uh.” You don’t want to drink pills.
“Bug..” He frowns, “Just one.”
“It’ll make you feel much better baby, I promise you.” He grunts, filling up a cup of water. He feels bad for doing this- but for your sake.
You can’t help the whine escaping your lips. It’s hard enough to swallow things whilst sick!!!
“No no noooo,” You shake your head as he strides closer with the medicine. You try to back away, even holding the blanket closer to you, but you could not get out of this. Not one bit.
“..Yes, yes, yes,” He plops the medicine in your mouth and- dunks the water as soon as he could.
You sniffle and force yourself to drink it up. You shake your head vigorously, low pigtails bobbling about.
“Bad papa, bad bad..” You rub the sleep in your eye yet again.
He squints his eyes at you, “Oi.”
You meekly look at him, “Sorry..”
He softens up a bit, before pulling your burrito-wrapped self near his frame.
“You’ll be okay soon, luv.” And he presses a soft kiss on your forehead. A squeeze from his arms made you feel much better, as you rest your little head on him yet again.
“My good girl, so strong.” He grumbles out. The praise makes your cheeks bloom like a flower. Your papa-bear. With his warmth, you can’t help but shyly cuddle into his toned-self. You feel just a bit better since you were in his arms, and you were fed a yummy meal. But alas, the everlasting feeling of sickness always comes at you from behind, and catches you off-guard. It makes you broody and crabby.
“Daddy?”
“Mmhm?” He hums gently, watching you play with his much larger fingers.
“My tummy feels dizzy,” You hiccup.
“Dizzy?” He questions, amused.
“Uhuh..” A tiny ‘achu’ escapes your lips. A chuckle rumbles out of his chest at your little sneeze, which causes a glare sent his way.
“Not funny, papa.”
“Mm.. Just a bit, bug.”
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diejager · 5 months
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Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.1
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Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader
Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, trap, luring, mention of breeding kink, protective König, mention of partial nudity, hunting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 4K
I got inspired by @konigsblog ‘s post.
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You enjoyed the sun as much as any other betta fish mermaid, laying on the warm rocks and bathing under the bright, yellow sun. You lived in a school of fish that moved near the shores of a tropical island a few generations before, building houses under the coral reef and rocks where newly placed branches would grow and work as a natural shield. The world you lived in - the part of the ocean you called your home - was bright and colourful, the shallow waters clear and gleaming under the warming sun.
You liked all things bright and colourful, either big or small, you decorated your part of the cave with things you found while swimming around your territory. Be it a golden coin shining on the ocean floor, or a shard of coloured glass, you picked it all up and stuck it around your room. Sometimes, you found pretty things near the limits of your home, and other times, you ventured closer to the edge of the darkness when something shiny caught your attention. 
Over the ridge of sand that drew the start of the darkness, that deep and menacing slope down to the deepest part of your ocean, where darker, meaner and cruel beings born of cruelty and madness lived. It was somewhere all mers were warned of, to stay far away from the darkness and never stray from the light that fed and protected you. You thrived in the light, your body absorbing the warmth from the sun that made your scales vibrant and feeding from the fauna and flora that lived beside you: seaweeds and small fishes. 
Your kind grew up with stories of horrifying monsters and cruel creatures that lived in that abyss, lingering near the shallow to catch a pretty, little mer for their hoard. Whatever became of the taken was still unknown, once a mer was taken by One, no one would hear from them from then on. Your parents had warned you about straying too close from the shallow, daring fate when you swam over the ridge to collect those pretty gems you fancied so much.
“Don’t worry,” you’d grin at her, fins flickering behind you. “I’m a fast swimmer, mom!”
You were a fast swimmer, slipping between rocks and corals, hands cradling your little shells while you fled from the dark, twisting over the ridge and vanishing between the corals. That’s what you did most days, picking up people’s trash to make it your treasure, fingers cleaning the sand off the holes and crevasses before sticking them to your walls. You also tinkered with metal creations you found, a silver fork or a rusted-looking instrument. 
Granted, you joined in hunts, catching sardines and herrings, claws digging into its scaled bodies and teeth ripping into its flesh, the only other taste being sea salt, or bathed under the sun, but you preferred scavenging for loot. Although mers hunted alone, most found it easier to do it in groups, swarming shoals of fish and catching in a group of a dozen at a time for your little colony. So when you were fed and rested, you were back out, treading the line between the shallow and the abyss.
You swam slowly, head turning left and right for anything that would catch your attention, for that small glint hidden under a thin veil of sand or a long metallic object sticking out from the ground. You already had a few things in your arms, a few shells, human objects thrown overboard or floated into the sea, and small treasures: white pearls. You picked things up from both sides, mind in a comfortable and pleasant space, prideful of your catch so far that you were oblivious of the eyes following your colourful body. 
His pale eyes wandered over your puffy cheeks and sweet lips, those squinted eyes in mirth as you searched for more. He went down the curve of your shoulders and the swell of your breasts, perky nipples covered by pretty shells, over your soft stomach and that bright, colourful tail of yours that first caught his attention. Every scale glistened under the sun, reflecting the light on the sand while you swam, your fins curving with the twist of your tail. 
You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, an angel collecting treasure, just like he did. He saw the batch in your arms, clutched between your breasts when you dove to pick something up on his side. You were as adorable and innocent as you were pretty, your action oblivious of his predatory eyes, dipping into his territory without fear of retribution on his part. He liked that bold and daring attitude of yours, fitting for someone so courageously bright and flashing your bold colours to him. 
If he were to drop something closer to him, would you still swim towards it or ignore it for something closer to the ridge? If he hid until you were close enough, would he be able to wrap his limb around you? To feel your soft skin and coarse scales under his slimy arm. He was glad he decided to hunt today, searching for both prey - mer or fish, he isn’t picky about what he ate - and treasure. Hidden under a couple of tentacles, he dropped a golden coin a few feet away from him, his veil and the darkness helping him hide from your sight. 
His heart soared when he saw your eyes widen, a smile curling at the corners of your lips when you saw his little coin, diving towards him with enthusiasm. You were so close to him, hand stretching to grab the object with small, clawed fingers. When you held it in your hand, appraising it, he felt pride bubble in his chest, rising to his mind as he took this occasion to get his arm around you. You flinched when he wrapped the tip of his tentacle around your tail, squirming around in terror. In a panicked struggle to escape him, you dropped everything you’d collected and fled from him with a cry.
He watched you swim away from him through saddened eyes, hearing the thudding from the things you dropped, even the coin he gifted you. His eyes never left your fleeing body until you jumped over the edge, your tail the last thing he saw in that moment of self-deprivation and sadness. He hoped you’d come back, forgetting the fear of his sudden attention and daring fate once more.
He came the next day and the day after that, but you weren’t there, your precious smile and happy eyes were a memory in his mind, a fleeting moment in his gloomy world. He came back every day, hiding in the darkness, on the line between pitch darkness and light shading. He wished you were there every day, his eyes bleeding with optimism and hope for a single smidgen of bright colours. 
He hadn’t seen you in the following week. His shoulders slumped and caved into himself in sadness every time he came by, his blue eyes dulling bit by bit, that hopeful thinking drowning under realistic thinking and a pessimistic mind. Then he caught a glimpse of colour against the white sand. Before long, he saw arms filled with shiny items, trailing nearer to your side than his, but still chasing for treasures. 
If he wanted to approach you, to touch your soft-looking skin and run his arms over your scaled tail, he’d have to find a way to lure you in. He watched you the first few days, his tentacles curling on itself and burying himself in the sand, the hundreds of suckers searching for buried treasures to leave for you. When you turned your back to him, his unwinding arm left the things he found near the ridge for you to find and take. Little gifts for you, courting gifts he left and gifted you in an attempt to woo you. 
You were skittish and fleeing but took all his gifts with shaky smiles and grateful eyes, you knew he gave them to you. Of course, you did, you were his brave and smart little mermaid, approaching his offerings with apprehension - he felt hurt you feared and got nervous around him, but he understood you, his kind ate yours - and scanned the sand around you for any danger before crossing the line. He felt giddy when you added them to your stack, his mind-blowing with dreams and thoughts of you decorating your little cave with the things he gave you. On the ceiling, against the wall and on the ground or surfaces, you would use the things he gave you for your home. 
It sent him up the walls of his caves with joy and excitement, his limbs curling to rearrange his home to prepare for you, to accommodate your arrival to his big, lonely home.
It took a week or two - or so he thought, his perception of time was and had always been warped in some way - before you became comfortable enough to approach him, to let him curl his slimy tentacle around your tail and up your body. He could finally feel you and it made him ecstatic - he was over the moon every time he got to touch you. Little pokes, fleeting squeezes and feathery bites from his suckers on your flesh, all things he let himself taste before your coupling. A coupling between the prettiest and the cruellest beings in the ocean would unwind the seams that made your worlds, pulling the string that separated the beauty and the beast in this cursed universe.
Granted, you hesitated to cross into the pitch darkness of the abyss, dancing just a few inches from his abode with an armful of trinkets from König. Your slow and steady breath, words you blessed him with when you muttered to him, calling out to know if he was there and your grateful grin were a common, yet welcome sight in his daily swim. While a bit reluctant to join him on the other side, you eventually swam across, your eyes melting into the black before you. You were unseeing as much as you were blind, if not for the guiding palm of the Eldritch creature that you befriended and the shine of treasure you saw around him. 
You wished you could see anything but the gleam of treasure and the black mist of the abyss, your hand wandered over his, searching for his body, to feel the one who’s been gifting you treasures. Your fingers trailed upwards, feeling the tightness of his muscles, the curves and hardness of his arms were sinful. You truly wished you could see him at this moment, but you kept at your advance, clawed fingers moving slowly with unbridled curiosity. When you reached his broad shoulders and well-pronounced chest, it rumbled, a purr coming from König. Its deep sound shook you with need, your tail enthusiastically moving back and forth as you listened to him. 
“Are you happy, Schatz?”
His voice was even better than his soft purrs, in a way that made you want to melt into his arms and never bother moving if he kept talking to you, the sound of the creature that gave you gifts and affection. König’s spine-chilling voice seemed like a mix of many voices, both soft and raspy, and both deep and smooth, but it was something you enjoyed, that you found yourself liking a bit too much. 
“Yes,” you breathed, eyes travelling skyward, towards the source of his voice.
Your breath caught in your throat, choking a gasp at the prettiest blues you’d seen staring down at you. They were majestic, gem-like with a pretty sheen that made them glow like a beacon of light. You wondered why you’d never seen them, seeing how bright his eyes were. They lit up his face, or the veil he wore over his face, showing the pale streak of makeshift tears down the incision he made for his eyes. You shamelessly admired him, unbothered by the lost puppy-like stare you gave him in your glowing beauty. 
You’d crossed a threshold, where a creature of light never dared to cross, stepping into the arms of an Old One and embracing their madness. Although you were oblivious to his intentions, the loud proclamation of his courting rituals and attempts of crying out his love - the Old One’s rituals and cultures were much of a mystery to those who didn’t study them, much of a taboo for anyone outside of delusion and greed - he hadn’t refrained from his deliberate show that would be nearly shameful and embarrassing to others of his kind. 
Some wouldn’t bother with such frivolous acts: confessions from the deepest part of their dark soul, proclamation of love and undying adoration, or having to scavenge for gifts - offerings - to the subject of their attention. His kind took and took, reaching for that small glimmer of hope and beauty and corrupted it, bending it to their liking and building something from the ashes. It wouldn’t - would never - be the same as they were before, but that was how the Old Ones liked it: control, corruption, ruin, madness and power.
König wouldn’t do that, he wanted to cherish you, add to what you were and watch it bloom like those bioluminescent creatures in the abyss; even against his creator’s wishes. He’ll put you on the highest pedestal he has, eternally imprinting the image of you as his most precious treasure into his mind. You’ll be a thing of miracles, a thing of blessings, a thing of new beginnings. He wanted all and everything with you, but he’d have to take it slow, to coax you into this redundant pattern that ensured your trust and comfort and have you follow him of your own volition. 
He doesn’t mind waiting, he’s had hundreds of years of sitting and waiting, patience was a virtue he grew to learn, to hold in his giant palm and clutch like a gift from the ever-growing, chaotic universe. He can wait and plan, so he will, König will lay down his plan and wait until he can bring it to reality.
Wait he did, for you to grow comfortable enough to follow him deeper and let him pull you in from your side. It took you a month of back and forth, squirming around your infatuation with König and exchanging trinkets, words and fleeting kisses with him. He adored your little giggles when he traced your sides with a bolt tentacle, curling under your plush tits and the tip sliding under your strap. He loved the pretty shells you gave him, cleaned from sand and any barnacles, it showed him how much time you spent on it for him. His heart bloomed and swelled to impossible heights when you pecked his lips, giving him shy and gentle kisses that he grew addicted to. 
You were so sweet and so soft, your lips the taste of heaven for a creature of madness. Your hands were gentle like a cool balm over a burn, soothing his wild thoughts. Your little gifts for him - reciprocating his affection - were currently the most important things in his cave, a sign of your love and devotion. It made him wonder what would you let him do once you gave yourself to him. Would you succumb to the everlasting pleasures he could give you, or would you demand to help him take care of his own in a mutual haze? He couldn’t help himself, letting his chaotic mind conjure the most absurd and erotic dreams, his body vibrating with excitement; and now, at the peak of your trust in him, he watched his plan - a well-placed trap - come to fruition. 
“Come, Schatz,” he beckoned you forward, his burly arm stretching to coax you to follow him, holding out his open palm to you. “I have something I want to show you. Pretty things.”
Without a thought, to question his intentions or to ask why he couldn’t have bought them for you like he usually did, you took his hand and let his fingers curl over yours, intertwining your smaller digits to his as he pulled you to his chest. His embrace was as safe and pleasant as the last one - yesterday - and caused a flurry of emotions to erupt in your chest, he was warm in the cool darkness, loving in all the ways you could think. You could close your eyes and imagine a smile rippling across his face with joyfully squinted eyes peering down at you. 
Held against his chest, his other arm wrapped around your waist with a firm squeeze of his hand where your skin turned to scales. He whispered sweet promises, words of encouragement to see the way to his home and excited explanations of what awaited you. Pretty things, he said, you knew what he meant - at least you think you did - you shared much in common, and pretty things were something you both agreed on: shiny metals, interesting trinkets, shimmering shells or finely-minted coins. All things humans valued before throwing away; one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. 
How unfortunate that you couldn’t see in the dark, yet how fortunate you wouldn’t know the way back, it was something he relied on heavily to keep you, if you didn’t know how to navigate in this utter blindness, there were no risks of you trying to escape his caring hand. You were smart, you wouldn’t simply venture off without knowing where to go and how to see, especially with how vast his territory was and how dangerous it was. He shared his home with other simple-minded animals, sharks, fishes, eels and any other abyssal creature that lived and depended on the dark to live. 
Your innocent curiosity about the things he deemed pretty enough to hoard made his heartbeat, that addicting feeling he got from touching you, kissing you and speaking to you. Even if the deeper he went, the colder it became, you never once complained, your wide eyes and grinning face were the only thing you gave him. He was truly relieved to know that you were patient and understanding of his home, not one hiss or pout while you shook and clung to him, depending on him for warmth. He liked that, to see you rely on him so much. 
“We’re here, mein Liebling,” he hushed, cradling your face as he dove down, through the entrance of his cave. He shielded your fragile body with his many arms, protecting you from the rush of water current flowing against him. He chose this one to build his nest, using the strong current as a natural barrier against weaker creatures. 
When the waters calmed to a still, he loosened his hold on you, unravelling his arms to let you explore the many passages and alcoves in his home. To accommodate you, he strung up bioluminescent flora, using them as light to find your way around, with silken algae over a few rocks to mimic the beds mers slept in and a few other things that he thought you’d need: a mirror, a few floating plants to add to its mystical beauty and clusters of soft materials in nearly every room. 
He let you wander, your tail flapping back and forth to lead you down the long hall and explore the many rooms. He used a room to sleep, one as a pantry and storage, and another one to hold his hoard, but he had a lot of empty and unused space, more than enough for you and your children to thrive. He wanted to let you roam at your own pace, but he had something to show you, something he was proud of making. 
He pulled you from your little cloud of joy, wrapping an arm around you, his sticky suckers latching onto you as he coaxed you his way. Only then had you taken the time to admire König under blue light, cheeks warm with a burning flush and doe-like eyes staring at the naked expense of his hard abdomen, stomach sculpted to perfection that had Adonis shying away. His arms were big and round, muscles straining the scarred skin with delicious appeal. 
Downwards, following the sharp dip of his navel, were dozens of dark tentacles lined with round, pulsing suckers. Like an octopus, they were covered in a slimy sheen, every limb flexible and able to move independently. The lower ones were thick and soft, acting as a cover for whatever he hid beneath them, while some were thinner, whose source came from under his veil. Those, however, were a mix of normal and horrific tentacles, some had eyes replacing the usual suckers, tinted in the same colour as his irises, that glowing, pale blue. 
It made your body heat up, fingers tingling with nerves - or was it? When faced with something you found appealing, it’d be natural to feel flustered, no? König thought so, that’s how he spent the first days reacting to you, heating up to a bothersome flush to everything you did. He watched your awed stare, that daydreaming haze in your eyes when you looked him over, his whole body clear under the gentle light in his cave. 
“This way.”
Without making your gaze leave his figure, he drew you in, heading towards his biggest room where he caught and strung everything to fit his pleasure and mood. It was somewhere deeper into the system with walls strong and sturdy, and the round ceiling higher than the other rooms. On one side was a pile of golden objects of all shades, light yellow to a darkish gold, nearly bronze; on the other was a mix of pretty silver things and metallic black objects, rusted by age and the salty ocean; and on another, the smallest of them all, comprised of a few dozens of colourful shells and corals frozen in time that you’d given him. 
He saw your chest expand, your smile growing brighter and brighter at the pile of gifts you gave him, your bubbly laugh as you swam towards it, twirling around it proudly. You looked around the room, admiring his large collection and how it seemed to spill down every pile in an attempt to reach the other one, forming a protective ring around your presents, but always coming back to the bright pink, blue and yellow shells. You were happy and appreciative of the time he spent working and arranging his hoard. If he could, he’d preen and purr to you, to show just how much your proud smile meant to him, watching you appraise his work was satisfying. 
He already felt like things were falling into place perfectly, he could see the life he had envisioned with you coming to life, the little intricacies that popped into his mind seeming too appealing. His dreams were slowly becoming a reality, the things that he could only imagine were now tangible to his hands, and the future he salivated at was so, so close that he could sink his teeth into its flesh. 
He knew it. He knew it when he watched you swim to him with that big, adorable smile on your face, that it was in his hands. He could see it now, how his lonely cave would be filled with life and laughter, children with a mix of your beauty and his madness chasing one another between the many openings and your round, swollen stomach welcoming another of your children to the world. That was all he could think of while he cradled you in his arms, his tentacles latching to your tail and back. 
“You’re happy, ja?”
Next
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @0alk0msan 
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naivegh0ul · 8 months
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I'm obsessed with older!Ghost. Just a filthy, perverted older Ghost who's obsessed with you, his younger neighbour. He's in his late 40's, and you're just a young college student who has no idea that your neighbour, who looks like a friendly man, fucks his fist each night to the thought of you.
He's always peeking out of his window, a cup of tea in one hand and his cock in the other, slowly stroking as his eyes track you as you walk down the street. God, how he wished he could touch you, bend you over the nearest surface and show you how a real man fucks.
He hears when you bring people back to your home, the walls are thin, after all, and he hears the way you moan and whimper. He can imagine you writhing in your bed, back arched so pretty and those plush lips slick with spit and maybe even cum.
He imagines himself in the place of the person fucking you, imagines splitting you open on his thick cock. He imagines pushing his cock past those beautiful lips of yours, letting you suckle on his tip like a good little slut, before thrusting further in, letting you gag and choke on his cock. The things he'd give to see your gorgeous eyes, glazed over with lust and tears spilling out from how roughly he's fucking your face.
His fantasies are- like always- rudely interrupted by the sound of you moaning another person's name, and he brings himself back to the present, reminding himself that he's not the one currently fucking into that tight hole of yours.
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chaosandmarigolds · 15 days
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Yeah yeah- Simon’s big and protective and he’s scary but THIS MAN- ahem, this man’s love language is physical touch. Don’t ask me why. But it is
Simon! Who begs for kisses as soon as you’re the sanctuary of your home like a man starved
Who likes touching you but like in the most innocent way possible (and not depends on the mood) with a hand on your back, thighs, or his cheeks pressed against the spot inbetween your shoulder blades
Who loves kissing your joints- wrists, ankles and knees
Who! Does flinch when you try to kiss his neck and practically recoils from his but lord knows he loves giving neck kisses
Who! Stole your perfume and sprayed it on his coat whenever he’s deployed
Who! Doesn’t get checked up when he’s back from deployment cause he is going home and he going to eat good food, and he’s going to see you so therefore he does not care about the gash in his side that was quickly stitched up by the field medic (spoiler, you made him go get medical care)
Who! Listens to your heartbeat like a baby, head on chest, and he just listens…he said it was soothing
Who! Did almost tear up when you tried to leave him at a family get together of yours because your cousin was dragging you away and you told him to stay with the dads (separation anxiety, he’s a puppy I’m telling you)
Who! Is mean to everyone. Literally everyone but will then turn to you-
“I’m sorry-“
“Sorry ain’t fuckin cutting it, get it done or I’ll have your hide on my w-“….”Hi, luvie.”
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frogchiro · 1 year
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Pervy!Ghost who is a gross and nasty lil freak :<
Especially after a particulary intense mission when adrenaline is still high and he's pent up with it, his muscles jumping and flexing, testosterone is buzzying and he can get quite aggressive and unpredictable in this state so just imagine poor hacker rookie who greets the guys when they got onto the heli for exfil and congratulates them on another successful mission and she's like :]
And Ghost...well let's just say he didn't take the sight of soft lil you too well. He can literally feel his muscles flexing and almost lets out a growl when you sit down between him and Johnny who's in no better state. Simon can basically smell you, your clean perfumed smell so different than all these sweaty dirty men and he can see all of the guys looking at you with wide blown pupils and smelling you like bloodhounds.
And he can't help it but feel so...angry. Angry and pent up and frustrated and the other men leering at sweet you is making him go crazy so he does the next best thing and decides to assert his dominance and 'stake a claim' on you, and what better way than making you smell like him?
So with a deep grunt Simon swings a heavy arm around your smaller form and brings you close you him, basically squishing you against his side, his gear digging into you and making you let out a pathethic little noise that makes all the men perk up even more.
And Simon smells so strongly :< it's not terrible per say but it's just...overwhelming; it's a clear masculine smell, heavy with sweat and dirt and blood and his own musk combining into a heady smell that makes you swoon. It's definitely nit helping that the smell is literally rubbing off on you too, Simon is tightening and moving his arm around you and you could swet that when he leaned down to your hair that he rubbed his mask on you before taking a deep breath like a predator smelling his sweet prey and being very satisfied with what he smelled♡
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outoftheseine · 1 month
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- SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY FIC RECS 2 -
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my big, broody husband | note: this is COD so there are some trigger warnings like: blood, guns, injuries, military stuff, death so please beware of them. there also also 18+ content so minors DNI. don't forget to read the authors' warnings | more will be added!
part one | main masterlist
SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS
yes, lieutenant • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @sinkovia (very very angsty, violence, smut)
forcedhusband!simon x reader
↳ by @suimon (sooo much fluff, comfort, slow burn, mutual pining, lots of bantering)
unexpected | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @dammn-dean (pregnant!reader, angst, comfort, fluff)
the roommate • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world (angst, fluff, smut, kidnapping, simon here made my heart so fuzzy)
please love me | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
↳ by @rowarn (angst, smut, comfort, tw’s like depression, sa and suicide)
actions have consequences | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!civilian!spouse!reader
↳ by @mrweh (heavy angst, mean!simon)
office romance • supervisor!simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
↳ by @hecateslore
you had his baby and he didn’t know | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @sgrplumditz
ghost distribution system | part two | part three • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
↳ by @katz-chow
ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC’S
his heart, his light, his world • dad!simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @thexsilentxwordsmith (so so fluffy)
no judgement • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @blingblong55 (so so so fluffy, dad!simon)
consequences • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @sinkovia (very angsty, tw: miscarriage)
a place to be weak • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader
↳ by @cherryredstars (fluff, little angsty)
superficial wounds, deep devotion • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
↳ by @tacticaldiary (fluff)
tormented by a ghost • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @shotmrmiller (mean!simon, little explicit)
lights • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @babygirl-riley (dad!simon fluff, angst, childhood trauma)
sunshine • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader
↳ by @sgtcosmo (fluff)
whispers and words • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @dammn-dean (angst, slightly suggestive, happy ending)
secret haven • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
↳ by @lightwing-s (fluff, secret relationship)
gentle love • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @floatingfireflies (fluff)
his girls • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @casiia (dad!simon, domestic!simon, fluff, slight angst)
migraines • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader
↳ by @mockerycrow (fluff, physical hurt/comfort)
family ties • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
↳ by @lundenloves (angst, dad!simon but not a cute dad ahaha)
longing • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
↳ by @yawnderu (fluff)
hold it together while the world is on fire • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
↳ by @unreliablesnake (major character death, grief, angst, tw: drug abuse)
is it too soon? • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @unreliablesnake (fluff, simon is whipped, grief)
in another life • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
↳ by @suimon (very angsty, hurt but no comfort)
over his shoulder • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @imperihoe-writes (tooth rotting fluff)
sweet dreams, my love • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
↳ by @qtboni (so fluffy)
the sacrifice • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader
↳ by @bravo4iscool (medic!reader, fluff, angst but happy ending)
wrong words • simon ‘ghost’ riley x 141!reader
↳ by @milf-murdock (hurt/comfort)
being chosen… by a baby • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!single mom!reader
↳ by @southernbluebellereader (fluff)
big guy • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader
↳ by @kivino (fluff, jealous!simon)
gentle giant • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @asph6lt (fluff, soft!simon)
girl dad • dad!simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @thexsilentxwordsmith (very fluffy)
home invasion • neighbour!simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader
↳ by @oceantornadoo (hurt/comfort, violence, fluff)
everything’s gonna be okay • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @pearlofthesirens (hurt/comfort)
meet the family • simon ‘ghost’ riley x civilian!reader
↳ by @sim0nril3y (angst, comfort, family issues)
oh muse, tell me of the things done by golden aphrodite • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
↳ by @sprout-fics (smut, greek mythology au)
late night embrace • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
↳ by @mondaysoct (fluff, slightly explicit)
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ave661 · 5 months
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edit: it got flagged even tho i did mature content label
So here's cropped version with ghost badonkers 😔 full on my twt
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