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suguann · 28 days

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Being a camgirl comes with its fair share of ups and downs, but you never expected one of the downs to be one of your unboxings from a fan going horribly wrong during a live stream—the proof of it still buzzing between your thighs beyond your finger's reach.

A rush of embarrassment comes with knocking on your roommate’s bedroom door and asking him for help because you’re nearing the brink of overstimulation and can’t think straight enough to get the words out. It’s worse when he stands there and says nothing—all imposing with two tattooed arms crossed over his chest—while you try to get through a sentence without moaning.

Simon looks at you with a cocked brow and something akin to amusement as he watches you squirm in his doorway.

Then he finally says, “Get on the bed,” in a steady and low voice, opening his bedroom door wider.

You fidget under his scrutinizing gaze as you settle back against his pillows, biting back whimpers with a too-hot face and sweat dripping down your back.

Him settling a knee on the bed makes you jump, “Let’s take a look, love.”

Simon crawls up the bed, forcing your knees open, and you’re suddenly very aware of how broad and big he looks, towering over you—every part of you laid bare for him to see. A large hand presses right below your belly button, jostling the toy inside you, and this time, you can’t hold back the squeal that rips from your chest.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, voice imperceptibly deeper, his lips twitching like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Okay, you’re going to feel a slight stretch.”

You bite your lip. “A-alright—”

Slight doesn’t even come close to the fingers sliding into you, spearing your sensitive walls open and pressing into a spot where you’ve never been able to reach with startling precision. You remind yourself that he has to do this, that he’s just being…friendly, or whatever makes the lines less blurred.

None of this stops the fact your lower stomach burns with the promise of another orgasm when his fingers brush against the egg vibrator before accidentally pressing it deeper inside.

“Ah, there it is.”

At the sight of your scrunched nose, he asks if it hurts. You shake your head; eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to hold back the stinging pleasure racing up your spine. “N-no,” you whimper.

“Relax, okay?”

Simon doesn’t comment on how you’re implying that it feels good. So good, you think, his thumb just barely touching your clit as he twists his hand to try a different angle. Then he pushes down on your belly again, and his long fingers finally grip the vibrator.

“Oh!” you moan at the feel of it dragging down your front wall, your fingers gripping the sheets.

He has to tell you to relax again, his voice cracking, but you hardly hear it over your heart beating loudly in your ears. His fingers drag the toy out slowly, almost too slow that you can feel it bumping against every slippery ridge inside you.

“Ah, sorry,” he says when you twitch—unapologetic—using his thumb to rub soothing circles into your stomach. “You’re so wet. I need to make sure I don’t lose it again.”

You nod, cunt clenching down at his words.

And then Simon’s fingers curl up: your thighs start quivering, breath caught in your throat, and your jaw locks up until your orgasm ripples through you. It’s unending, the strongest one yet, and just when you think it’s over, you feel the press of his palm against your clit.

“W-wait! Simon,” you moan, pushing at his hand. “No more, I‘m sensitive!”

He gets you to fall over the edge one more time before finally slipping the vibrator out of you, letting it hum softly on the bed, and your exhausted body sinks into the mattress once again. Simon gathers you into his lap, rocking you back and forth.

You swallow lungfuls of air against his chest, head still spinning and walls spasming from the aftershocks.

He murmurs in your ear about how good you are, kisses your temple, and rubs your sides, and it’s… enlightening. Moments pass before you finally return to yourself, and when he pulls back, his brows furrow at your pout.

“All good?”

You shake your head and go with honesty. “I didn’t think you’d cuddle me afterward.”

He smiles, thumb flicking your bottom lip. “You wanted me to fuck you?”

Your mouth falls open. “N-no—”

Then he leans down, lips brushing against your ear: “Don’t worry, love. Good girls get fucked hard.”

#simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost smut #cod smut #cod x reader #cod fic #cod imagine #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #.things i write

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yawnderu · 4 months

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There's only 3 people Simon follows on social media. Gaz, Soap... and a pornstar he's been obsessed with for months.

He loves coming back from missions and seeing you promoting your new content on Twitter, always getting fucked by a different person— never the same man or woman twice.

He'd be lying if he said he doesn't think he can fuck you better than the men jackhammering into you without care, or the women who keep staring at the camera rather than focusing on your lovely body. He could do it so much better, stuffing your pretty cunt full of eight inches of thick, veiny meat.

Warm water runs down his body as he rubs his throbbing cock, calloused hands toying with the angry, red tip before he smears it all over his shaft, almost cumming at the wet sound that rings around the shower when he jerks off again.

His leaking precum sticks to his hand, begging him to keep going while he scrolls down your Twitter. Half-lidded brown eyes struggle to stay open when he sees a new photo of you, groaning at the way your bright smile overpowers the thick cum smeared all over your lovely tits, looking so proud of finishing another man off and getting marked.

His boner is almost painful at this point. He's sure his arm is going to get a cramp after this, but he's too far gone to care.

Simon's fantasies run wild as he keeps scrolling and liking your new content. He's barely lucid enough to register the newest video, looking at the skimpy clothing you're wearing being ripped off by an older man, cock thrusting into you wildly, almost punishingly. There's nothing more lovely than your expression when you get penetrated, wide eyes looking at the camera and pretty lips turned into an "o" shape before you smile, clearly enjoying every single inch of meat stuffed into your needy cunt.

“Fuck.” His hand works faster down his shaft, the familiar tight feeling in his heavy balls returning while he lets out a low moan. A tidal wave of euphoria hits him when his half-lidded brown eyes return to the video, muscles flexing and tensing up as he releases thick ropes of cum onto the floor, letting the water wash it away.

His hips buck uncontrollably as he squeezes the last drops of thick cum out of his cock with a couple of low groans, hand finally slowing down.

His muscles finally relax, chest rising up and down while he tries to recover from the intense orgasm. He can't help but look at the ropes of release being washed away, secretly hoping they were in you instead.

His phone vibrates in his hand, and he immediately looks at it with a raised eyebrow, breath catching in his throat when he reads the notification announcing that you follow him back.

Part II | Part III

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sleevesareforlosers · 10 months

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you get into bed with a guy you just met and you notice a hole in his sheets and mattress and he goes 'oh yeah by the way sometimes when i have a bad dream i unsheath my bed knife and stab the pillow in my sleep' and chuckles a bit shyly and you go okay because now you have more questions than you started with but he also has his hand between your legs so you take your chances and when youre pillowtalking afterwards you ask if maybe you can sleep on the side of the mattress that doesnt have a stab mark and he laughs like youre crazy because 'what if theres an intruder you dont know where i keep my bed knife' which just from the name seems pretty self explanatory and also you saw it when he was pulling at the sheets earlier but anyway you nod and shrug to yourself because its too late to take a bus and you splurged on a fancy iced coffee yesterday so you cant afford an uber and you really carefully arrange yourself so your face neck and chest aren't near the (very deep) stab hole and it takes a bit but you do fall asleep only to get woken up by him tossing and turning and whimpering almost like hes having a bad dream and you start calculating your odds of wrestling a knife away from this guy versus just throwing yourself out of bed and maybe waking up the roommate he mentioned didnt like having overnight guests but then you notice hes struggling with the sheath like really just can not get the snap open and its a little funny a little sad so you take pity on the poor guy and unsnap the sheath and he pulls the knife out and plunges it into the pillow where your head just was and the blade slips into the handle and you realise its only a prop knife and it startles you so much you laugh and wake him up and he blinks up at you so blearily when you ask how he ripped a hole through the mattress if his bed knife is a prop knife and slurs 'thats from when i want to fuck the mattress'

#this is an oc story. to me

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dante-mightdie · 24 days

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Reader offering her body to viking!simon as an appreciation present for protecting her xx

yes yes absolutely yes everything about this is beautiful

c/w: pillaging, death, murder, blood, loss of virginity, p-in-v sex, you and simon have no game, simon is a blunt dickhead

perhaps the village gets raided in the middle of the night :( rival clan tearing through your lovely town and pillaging it. your husband is immediately storming out of bed, throwing on his armor and grabbing his axe. he’s silent when he picks you up, slings you over his shoulder and throws you into the wardrobe,

“stay.” he commands and you respond with a quick nod of your head, looking up at him with frightened eyes until he slams the doors closed

you’re there for a good hour until you hear movement in your home. you think for a moment it might be simon but you soon hear the sounds of wood splintering and crashing as this invader trashes your home

you keep a hand over your mouth, praying whoever this is decides not to check your hiding place. that was wishful thinking, you realise once the wardrobe door is ripped open and you’re met with the cold eyes of a rival warrior who wastes no time snatching you up and throwing you to the ground, desperate screams immediately leaving your throat

you pray that someone hears you but you’re not hopeful when all you can hear through the closed windows is the muffled sounds of screams, cries and burning buildings

you pick up whatever your trembling hands can reach and throw them at the warrior as you crawl back. but everything just seems to be bouncing off of him, causing no damage whatsoever

you close your eyes when you watch him raise his weapon, ready to bring it down on you. tears slip down your cheeks and you flinch, preparing for your short lived life to be over in such a brutal manner

but no such blow comes, instead you just hear the sounds of gargling. when you open your eyes, you see the soldier on his knees in front of you, your husbands axe hanging from the side of his neck as he chokes to death on his own blood

simon is stood above him, chest heaving and rage clouding his vision as he pulls the axe out, swinging it into the man’s neck one more time for good measure

he looks at you, the storm disappearing from his expression once he sees you trembling on the floor below him, frightened out of your mind. with one arm, he effortlessly scoops you up, holding you against him. with his other hand he retrieves his axe from the corpse at his feet

he carries you out of your destroyed home, not saying a word when you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and sniffle

“thank you…” you mumble, the delicate brush of your lips tickling his skin, filling him with a warm feeling that he’ll deny ever existed

he grunts in response, hoisting you up when you start to slip in his grip. he doesn’t speak much, is the first thing you figured out about him on your wedding night

you shield your eyes from the bloodshed and horror that now bestows your village, people of your clan lay dead in the once safe streets. simon says nothing as he carries you away from it all,

“is it over?” you ask, taking your face from his neck to look at him. he gives you a firm nod of his head. you don’t say anything about the dried blood he’s coated in, nor the fact that you can feel it staining your nightgown

after a while he carries you to a secluded part of the village, with survivors gathered around and setting up tents. being the second-in-command to the chief was clearly a perk as you and simon had been set up in a small, cozy cabin

“draw me a bath.” his rough voice cuts through the silence, shrugging off his armor and stripping down until he was bare in front of you. it never failed to bring a blush to your cheeks whenever he causally exposed his naked body to you

he hadn’t bedded you once since you had been married, you had shared once chaste kiss at your wedding ceremony and since then he had barely touched you. he didn’t seem particularly interested in having you perform traditional wifely duties, he never rejected it when you offered to bathe him after a long day or when you had dinner presented on the table for him

you both just kind of exist around each other. it hadn’t really dawned on you that he’s never even called you by your name, only speaking to you in blunt sentences

“oi. did you hear me?” he says, stopping to turn to you when he realised you hadn’t moved from your spot. you shake yourself from your thoughts and nod your head, scrambling over to the fire to begin boiling the water for his bath

he carries the heavy pots of boiling water for you, snatching them from your hands when he sees you nearly burn yourself. once his bath was finished, he climbed into the steaming water

you watch him from the bed, chewing on your lip and playing with your fingers as he scrubs his skin with the soap. his back is to you as your map out the scars littering the rippled muscle

you feel indebted to him. whilst he wasn’t the nicest man, he certainly wasn’t the cruelest. he was good to you in a strange way. he never forced himself on you, even on your wedding night. he had never uttered words with intent to hurt your feelings

you stand from your place on the bed and nervously stumble over to the tub, kneeling beside him. he doesn’t look at you when you take a cloth and begin cleaning his back

he lets his hands fall into the water, leaning forward ever so slightly. you notice how his eyes fall shut. he’s probably exhausted, you think to yourself

“would you like me to brush your hair, husband? I… I can-“ you question, looking at him as you run the soap through his hair and making an effort to detangle the mop on his head

“do what you want.” he grunts, shrugging his broad shoulders and dropping them down with enough weight to make the water splash

you nod your head even though he can’t see you. after a few minutes of, quite frankly, uncomfortable silence, you place the soap down as a silent signal that you were finished

he stands to all his glory, 6’4 with water dripping down from his hair all the way down his thigh defined thighs and back into the water. you immediately avert your eyes when you drag your eyes down to his cock, hanging heavy between his legs and pass him a towel

you gather a comb and place a pillow on the floor between your legs. still not bothering to get dressed, he just drops his tired body down leaving you no option but to spread your legs to accommodate his large frame

you spend a good 30 minutes trying to get the comb through his shaggy dirty blond hair but you eventually manage to tame it into a clean and detangled state. you use a tie from your wrist to tie it up into a messy bun so it will stay out of his face

“I-I’m finished…” you say, placing your hands on your lap to prevent yourself from reaching out and tracing the tattoos on his shoulder blades. as you expected, he just gives you a grunt, his way of saying thank you

you stand from the bed, watching as he moves around the room with his back to you

“simon?” you call out with hesitation, “would you… would you like to come to bed… with me?”

he turns to look at you, his brow furrowed with confusion, “I am… I’ll be there in a minute.”

you shake your head, taking your hand up to untie the front of your nightgown, “no… I mean… would you like to be intimate with me?”

you’re certain that your face must be bright red with embarrassment, but you power through as you slip your gown off. you’re stood naked in front of him, shifting on your feet as he stares you down with an unreadable expression

he shifts his whole body to you now, folding his arms over his chest as he looks you up and down

“say something, please.” you squeak out, your hands coming up to poorly cover your breasts. he lets out a small laugh in response and you think you’ve completely humiliated yourself

“you want me to fuck you?” he asks bluntly, taking one hand down to lightly fondle his flaccid cock. you nod your head eagerly, biting your lip

“you ever done tha’ before?” he smirks, cocking his head to the side. he’s quite enjoying this newfound confidence, if you can even call it that. you shake your head, fiddling with your fingers

“it’s gonna hurt.” he warns, raising his eyebrows and scanning your face for any form of hesitation

“will it feel good eventually?” you ask, a small glimmer of hope spreading in your eyes when you realise he’s actually considering your request. you expected him to shoot you down with a laugh

“maybe.” he shrugs, “you still want me to fuck you, little one?”

his hand is wrapped firmly around his cock now, stroking it until it was fully erect. you can’t take your eyes off it, not even to see the cocky smirk across his face

“yes.” you whisper out, “please.”

he cocks his head to the side, “get on the bed. spread your legs.”

you crawl onto the bed, laying on your back and folding your hands across your stomach. you chew on your lip, your eyes trained on the ceiling. you can’t bear to look at him as you spread your legs, giving him a clear view of your most intimate area

“want me to lick your cunt first?”

his words make your pussy ache. his blunt tone would be horrifying on anyone else but you know him now. it’s just who he is. it’s so amazingly him. the question is followed by the sound of spitting and the slick sounds of him stroking his cock

“I- yes- I just- I’m not sure i’ll like it.” you admit, sheepishly. you glance down when you feel the bed shift and his big hands wrap around your thighs. you see him knelt between your legs, lips inches away from your aching pussy

he grunts, and with no warning, he closes the gap and runs his tongue from your opening then all the way up to your clit. he wraps his lips around the bud, giving a harsh suck

you throw your head back, letting out a stuttered moan. your hands shift from their place to his hair, tugging on it and loosening a few strands which fall around his face

he spends a good bit of time trialling things out, learning what you like based on how much you yanked at his hair or bucked your hips

he slips a finger in your entrance once he’s sure you’re wet enough, groaning at the way your legs slam around his head. the feeling of your thighs clenching around his face makes his cock twitch against the mattress

your cunt takes his fingers greedily, sucking around his thick digits when he slips another one in. your hips buck up at his mouth when he flicks his tongue around your clit

you feel a tightening in your stomach after a fuck minutes of his fingers fucking in and out of you, scissoring them to stretch you wider for him. he waits until he can feel you right on edge and he hears your moans pick up to pull his fingers out

you let out a whine at the lack of contact, handing right on edge of your ruined orgasm

“quite yer whinin’. you can cum around my cock instead.” he groans, pumping his cock a few times before lining it up with your weeping pussy

he places one hand on the underside of your thigh and pushes it up as he pushes in slowly. you let out a gasp and grip his forearm, nails digging into his skin. he doesn’t stop, only slows his pace

“nearly there…” he groans just before he bottoms out, his pubic bone pressed against your clit. he grinds his hips slowly to help you adjust to the feeling of being stuffed full

“do that again…” you whine out, arching your back for him. he grinds his hips a few more times, waiting until there’s no resistance from you before actually beginning to fuck his cock in and out of you

you slam your hand over your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock brush against this spongy spot inside of your cunt

he shifts his position, moving so he’s kneeling on the bed. he wraps his arms around your thighs and tugs you so your ass rests on his thighs

he wraps a hand around his cock, gliding the tip through your folds one time before slipping back inside you. he uses his grip on your hips as leverage to fuck into you faster than before

the room is filled with a mixture of your moans and his grunts along with the sound of his balls slapping your ass

your hands move to rest on his shoulders to keep you straight as he rams his cock into your cunt. that familiar tight feeling creeps up on you soon again. you tap his shoulder lightly

“si- simon… ‘m gonna- fuck-“ you cry out, throwing your head back against the pillows

“me too, little one. come on… cum around your husbands cock…” he grunts, leaning forward to put you in a mating press. his permission was all you needed to let go, your cunt pulsing around his cock erratically

he gives you a few more sloppy thrusts before pulling his cock and out, desperately jerking it a few times before he paints his load all over your tummy. he rubs the tip against your clit to milk your orgasm, the final remnants of his cum dribbling out onto your pussy

he doesn’t enjoy the afterglow of his orgasm very long before he’s standing up and grabbing a cloth to clean you both up. he blows out the candles that light up your bedroom before wrapping you both up in blankets and furs

he lays on his back, tucking you under his arm so you can rest your head on his shoulder. you lay away from him, wrapping your arms around his bicep and pressing your face into the muscle

in tune with his usual character, he doesn’t say a word to you but this is progress, you think. a soft smile gracing your lips as you drift off into a peaceful slumber

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #viking!simon

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shotmrmiller · 3 months

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I havent a wrinkle in this brain of mine for plot, so have some porn without plot instead :)

Maybe it's because Johnny has you blindfolded, but he feels different. He's heavier on top of you and feels a bit bigger inside of you. It stings more than usual when he finally pushes his cock into your sopping cunt, swollen and tender from the four orgasms he took from you with his mouth alone. Your inner thighs burn as they stretch wider around his thick waist. When his lips meet yours, as your tongues entwine, he tastes of bourbon. He's quiet too, which is very different from the usual filth he whispers into your ear.

But when he starts rocking his hips, all thought fades, along with the ache in between your legs. His thrusts are long, pulling out until only the tip of his cock remains inside. Then he pushes forward steadily until he's pressed firmly against the entrance of your womb— making you wince slightly at the pinch. He does this tirelessly until obscene squelches emit from your cunt, that pinch deep inside of you turning into spine-tingling bliss. Your skin erupts in goosebumps when his head nudges against your sweet spot, a loud moan falling from your lips. He mutedly chuckles, his chest vibrating against sweat-slick breasts and the coarseness of his chest hair grazing your hardened nipples only heightens your pleasure.

You feel him move away from you until his cock slips out, only to vigorously grab at your hips and pull you to him. Your upper body rests on the bed, while he sits on his haunches and keeps your legs spread with his thick thighs as he slowly pushes back inside. But this time, it's not all the way. Oh, no. You know exactly what's about to happen.

"Wait-" but he doesn't. He fixedly keeps you in place at the angle he wants, the angle you need, and moves. His thrusts turn staccato— short, quick jabs— and he's hitting your spot, the one that has you going cross-eyed behind the blindfold. Your mouth is slightly open, drooling at the corner of it as you're rendered helpless against his onslaught.

The fire in your stomach blazes, every snap of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, the coil within you tightening, your body tensing. You can hear him spit— can feel a warm glob of liquid land on your mons, and dribble down to your aching, neglected clit. His thumb collects the saliva and swirls your bud under the pad of his calloused thumb rigidly.

Your spine arches off the mattress so sharply it pops as you climax, a choked scream ripping out of your throat. Your nails dig into the delicate skin of his wrists, no doubt leaving behind red welts. He doesn't stop the stimulation on your clit, his hips never falter in rhythm as he prolongs your mind-numbing pleasure.

Body going limp in his hands, you hiss in oversensitivity and swat at his hands. "Ow, love-" but he cuts you off with a searing kiss before flipping you on your knees, and to the edge of the lofty bed. You're rising to your hands when his big, rough palm pushes you down— his intent clear. With your chest on the bed, he sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke and the angle he goes in with is nothing short of devastating.

If you hadn't been wailing, you would've heard the deep, guttural noise that escaped his mouth. You can feel him in your sternum, replacing the air in your lungs. He swiftly picks up his left leg, positions it on the bed next to you, and sets a merciless pace. The force behind his thrusts rattles your very bones, leaves you breathless. You can feel the meat of your arse ripple with every slap of his hips— can feel the bruises forming in your skin under his hands.

You lift your hand to feel where he's splitting you open, fingers encasing his cock, he stiffens— swells painfully inside of you then he's coming with a snarl. His Cock twitches as it spurts his essence into you, stuffing you full and then some because you can feel his cum trickle down your legs. You try to lift yourself with quivering arms but again, you're manhandled and flipped onto your back, a squawk of indignation silenced with an all-consuming kiss. His lips move against yours feverishly, as if he's committing your taste to memory.

He finally relents, pulling away but you hold him in place with your hands cupping his face and murmur an 'I love you'. The only response you get is one you feel, as he tips his head in a nod, and then presses a kiss into your sweaty temple before moving away.

Later, when you and Johnny are in the shower, you notice that there isn't a single scratch on his wrists even though you definitely dug your nails into him. And that reminds you.

"Johnny?"

"Aye, bonnie?"

"Since when do you drink bourbon?"

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #cod #simon riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #johnny soap mctavish x reader #simon riley x you #drabble

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ttsukiimi · 15 days

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❛ A CONCUBINE’S DUTY! ❜

୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ What you didn't expect was for the king of curses to place you on his throne and drop to the ground. Sukuna grinned mischievously up at you. "You're the first I've kneeled before. You should revel in that."

୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, smut (mdni), fingering, implied size differece, overstimulation, slight choking, slight nipple play, sukuna uses a tongue on his hand, multiple orgasms, reader passes out for some minutes, oral (female receiving), sukuna referred to as lord, reader referred to as (woman)

Your legs seemed to tremble under you with each nervous step you took, threatening to give out under the weight of unease settling into you. And there was no denying it, after weeks of your initial arrival, Sukuna had finally summoned you--though your heart felt heavy and skittish in your chest.

Some have described him as immoral, wicked...malevolent even. How would he treat you? A lowly concubine, not to mention he had countless others.

In the midst of your thinking, you failed to notice you had arrived to his chamber. You opened the door and met with the sight of Sukuna, sat on his throne and deliciously manspread.

His eyes lit up as he saw you, interested, his mind already racing with thoughts of what he'd do to you.

Quickly, you bowed to the ground, your ears perking at the unusual sound of his deep yet rich laughter.

"How amusing. Up," he ordered, and you complied. You awkwardly stood at the foot of his throne, your neck craning up just to have a look at him, and though you felt so small, as if you were prey, you slowly began to admire him. It's the first time you've seen him this up close, and you’re not afraid to say that he’s devilishly handsome.

Sukuna patted his thigh, now your personal seat, and you sat. “You seem uptight.” He rasped in your ear, his upper hands fondling with your chest while his lower held you in place. “Let's fix that.”

And after came the sound of your top being ripped to shreds, a gasp leaving your parted lips as he began to play with your nipples. You failed to stifle the moans that poured out of your mouth, embarrassed as he hadn’t even really done anything yet.

He noticed this and grinned. “I think I’ll enjoy you,”

One of his hands snaked down to the innermost part of your thigh, his long fingers swiping up and down your sopping folds, collecting your slick. Sukuna inwardly groaned at the wet feeling and pushed a finger into your hole, gritting his teeth in resistance at how tightly you clamped around his digit.

"Fuck, don't think I'll fit." he sighed smugly, adding another and beginning to slowly move them and out. "But I think you can take it, can't you?"

You nodded. That was all you wanted in the moment--the hard cock you could feel rising under your ass--but you knew not to speak until spoken to. Your hands moved on their own to his lap and palmed his erection, an amused look blooming on his face.

Sukuna removed his finger from your cunt and shoved them into your mouth, reaching your throat and causing you to choke. "You don't have permission to touch me yet, woman" he hummed. "But I guarantee your pussy will determine if you get to or not."

Tears welled down your cheeks as you gasped for air, chest heaving, and your heart rate only skyrocketed as you felt the tip of his cock lined up to your entrance.

He thrust himself in, not giving you any time to adjust to his abnormally huge size. Sukuna sucked his teeth--just as he thought--you were too tight for him to move.

"Relax some," his voice boomed in your ear, and you tried your best to do so. But he was impatient, dying to feel you sucking around him, and began fucking up into you soon after.

Sukuna had this...thing of his. He was known for 'sometimes' being too rough on his concubines, leaving them unable to walk and passed out after he was done--but those were for his pure amusement. This time, he thinks, he won't be able to hold himself back from breaking you.

Your moans echoed throughout the spacious room, eyes closing shut in a mix of pain and pleasure. "Lord Sukuna!" you mewled, feeling wetness slide down your thighs, trembling as the intrusion of his cock left your back arched in pleasure.

"Tch. I don't remember giving you permission to talk either." he gritted his teeth, a hand cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look up him. Sukuna held eye contact with you, occasionally breaking the contact to stare at the way your tits bounced as he fucked you.

He felt so deep, reaching the spots you didn't know could even be touched, his tip brushing past your sweet spot every so often. And you felt so overstimulated, quivering in his hold, but Sukuna's hand slid down to your thighs once more, and there was suddenly a tongue lapping at your pussy.

You had forgotten he could do that.

"mmf--!" you were cut off by a hand squeezing your throat. Your orgasm came crashing down onto you, swooping you off your feet and it had you seeing stars as you came on his cock.

Though, until he was done, nothing was done. You came two more times until he finally pulled out, spurting his hot seed on your tits and face, admiring his work after.

What you didn't expect was for the king of curses to place you on his throne and drop to the ground. Sukuna grinned mischievously up at you.

"You're the first I've kneeled before. You should revel in that." he spoke before he began to eat you out, slurping at your wetness and sucking on your puffy, red clit. Something in him was enjoying this a bit too much.

He watched you break down in front of him, trembling, trying your best to keep your eyes and legs open for the man under you, but by your sixth you were spent, unable to control your limp limbs anymore.

Sukuna's face covered in slick was the last thing you saw before your vision dotted black, and you were out. When you finally came to, you weren't in your room, and by the way his cum still dripped from your body, you could tell it wasn't long after you passed out.

Your vision darted around; the lavish bed you woke up on, the intricate details everywhere--it couldn't be.

But a door opened and there was Sukuna, a towel hung loosely over his hips, his blush pink hair wet and dripping onto his skin. He walked towards you, drying his hair before he sat down on the opposite side of the bed. "You'll be sleeping here from now on."

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kitkatscabinet · 6 months

Text

Nothing fucks with my baby

Simon Riley x wife reader

Summary: Simon is the Earth orbiting your sun and he'll do anything to keep you safe and happy, even if that means resorting to bloody means.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: attempted non-con (not by Simon)

@ghosts-cyphera for you pookie, hope you enjoy!

Eight months. It’s been eight long, tortuous months since Simon saw you in person. Eight months of living off brief Skype calls interrupted by work schedules and shitty internet cutting out mid-call, an age since he’s touched you. Since he’s breathed in your scent and cradled you against his muscular chest, since he’s tasted you. Pictures of you weren’t enough, even if you’d gifted him a set of delectable Polaroids showcasing your gorgeous body decorated with black and white lingerie.

Long deployments had never bothered him, not until you’d become the central part of his life. Simon was the Earth, orbiting your sun reverently and fervently. He’d worship you on his knees for eternity if that’s what you desired.

His appetite for you has always been ravenous, but his need for you has been greatly nourished after months of no contact. The door to your shared home swings open with a bang, the anticipation coursing through his veins diminishing his control in a way he knows you’ll scold him for. His bag is dropped carelessly in the foyer as he stalks through the space, a man on a mission to find you. Not even the weary exhaustion after months of shit sleep and shared communal spaces would deter him from his mission.

You’re not in your home office or the bedroom and Simon’s frustration simmers under his skin as he marches straight back out the door. It’s only the knowledge that you’ll be devastated to have missed his surprise homecoming that tempers his annoyance.

Ghost is beyond irritated by the time he arrives at your work, not necessarily at you, he knows how seriously you take your career, it’s one of the reasons he was so drawn to you. Once some lowly private had made a snide remark about you being the breadwinner, scoffing at Simon for letting his wife ‘emasculate’ him like that. It was only Price playing damage control that kept him from a dishonourable discharge that day. He had no regrets, especially after the incident taught people to keep your name out of their mouths.

It’s late, well past working business hours when he keys into the building using the code you’d given specially for him. So it shouldn’t surprise him how empty it is, most of the lights turned off as he made his way to your office, but Simon hadn’t survived over a decade in the military without learning to trust his gut. A distinct uneasiness settles in his body, narrowed eyes surveying the space for anything out of the ordinary as he increases his pace to get to you.

The light in your office is on, the door is left open carelessly and gives Simon a clear view of the sight of you bent over your desk trying not to cry as a man holds a gun to your head and fumbles with your sleek dress pants. Simon thought he knew rage, but any anger he’s ever felt is drowned in comparison to the sheer righteous fury that alights his veins.

He closes the gap in record time, red filtering out the corners of his vision and spraying over his knuckles as he rips the interloper away and viciously lays into him. Any slurred words pleading for mercy are ignored and shut down as Simon’s fist renders the man’s mouth an inoperable bloody mess.

His arm aches furiously by the time he pulls back, chest heaving with breaths that have long since been silenced from the scumbag that now lay dead on the floor of your office. It’s the sound of your shaky sobs that pulls Simon back from the brink, immediately darting towards you, shaky hands stained with blood cradling you against his bulk gently.

He’s vibrating with an explosive cocktail of fury, fear, outrage and relief. You press yourself tighter against his chest like you’re trying to burrow into the safety of his ribcage. Simon can’t bring himself to speak, mouth dry and tongue heavy as he buries his face into the top of your head. The silence is broken by the shaky inhales of your rattling breaths and sobs.

All too soon you’re pulling away, even when he fights to keep you safe and sound against his chest. “Simon? What… what’s going to happen with-” You try and turn your gaze towards the corpse staining your carpet but Simon prevents you with a hand grasping your jaw, preventing you from getting a glimpse at the carnage.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head darling, I’ll take care of it. But first, let's get you home yeah?” He walks you from the building to your car with a supportive arm wrapped around your shoulders, tucking you against his side before sliding you into the passenger seat of your car. It’s a testament to how shaken you are that you don’t protest, remaining silent and clutching the hand that grasps your thigh like a lifeline.

It doesn’t take long to tuck you into bed, wrapping you tightly in the blanket like it will protect you from the horrors of the outside world. The adrenaline had faded from your body making way for the exhaustion. Simon doesn’t leave your side until he’s sure the clutches of sleep have pulled you under, and even then, it's with extreme hesitation that he stands and leaves the bedroom, reaching for his phone to make a call.

Luckily, you don’t wake even once in the hours that follow as he waits for news of the cleanup. He spends that time alternating between checking in on you, watching you breathe peacefully and pacing the linoleum floors that you’d insisted on.

A single knock on the front door pulls him from the spiral of thoughts that threatened to pull him further and further into darkness. He opens the door to an unimpressed Price, who pushes his way in with Gaz and Soap trailing after. Expectantly he stares at them, watching as Price lights a cigar and takes a long drag.

“It’s done. Did you have to make such a mess though son?” It’s an innocuous enough comment but one that raises Ghost’s hackles anyway and he shoots a venomous glare at his captain that would never have been acceptable in any other circumstances. His shoulders tense and it takes everything in him to keep his voice somewhat level.

“That fucker laid his hands on my wife!” He inhaled shakily as he remembered what he’d almost been too slow to prevent, unable to prevent the rise of volume as he yelled at his captain, “My wife! He’s lucky I didn’t paint the room with his insides!” The baritone of his booming snarl is loud enough that even Soap flinches slightly with widened eyes.

There’s a tense silence but his captain nods, something like approval in his gaze before his eyes slide towards the right and Simon turns just in time to witness you call his name, voice hoarse with sleep and eyes red from tears.

He crosses the space and curls you against him in record time, nonchalantly throwing a dismissive wave towards his team who simply nod in understanding and file back outside. “Were those the boys? You didn’t have to kick them out” you murmured though Simon was already hushing you, leading you back to bed with a firm hand on the small of your back.

“Don’t worry ‘bout them lovie, they were leavin’ anyway” he waved away your concerns, finally kicking off his shoes, trapping you in his arms and pulling you down onto the mattress. You squeak at his actions, giggling as his stubble tickles the skin of your neck.

Despite how pent-up and desperate for your touch he is, Simon makes no move to escalate the situation, settling you in his arms and simply breathing you in. Neither of you speak about the earlier incident, not willing to shatter the peace. Though Simon lets out the occasional hum when your hands trace gentle circles over his heart, focusing on the steady beat of his pulse beneath your palm.

Inevitably the lingering emotions of the day would have to be dealt with, but not yet, Simon would allow himself to relish in the peace just a little longer.

#x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #kat’s writing #cod simon riley #simon riley

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