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adaelines · 11 months

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hiii my back is killing me but horny for simon NEVER stops!!! afab but gender neutral reader, consentual somnophilia, simon eats u out whilst u sleep bc he wants u that bad, simon cums in his pants from eating u out

Ghost was always there for you.

He lived up to his namesake in that regard, always spotted in the corner of your eyesite, most of the time gone by the time moved to greet him, or ask what he was up to during some rather strange times you caught him watching.

He protected you, kept an eye on you best he could, wanted to keep you safe.

He knew you didn't need it, knew as a fellow member of 141 that you could easily protect yourself, he trusted you more than he trusted himself sometimes, but you two were close. Not in the same way the rest of 141 was, despite how strong your relationship was with them, it was different with Ghost. It was more.

Whilst neither of you outright defined your relationship, never had the time to go on proper dates or spend as much time together as you wanted, it was obvious to everyone, including yourselves, that you loved each other more than life itself. The situations you both often found yourselves in caused your relationship to blossom much quicker than would be considered usual, but nothing about your relationship was usual.

Long nights of watch often lead to keeping each other company as you cleaned your weapons, sitting together in a comfortable silence and just existing together. To him, it was the little things about you that he craved, the happiness in stolen moments together, even in the worst of situations. It was comfortable with you, even after days of fighting, after having to shield every emotion behind getting the job done efficiently, prioritising anything but yourselves.

It was these times spent together that led to Simon longing for you when apart, the silence away from you almost unbearable. It was the same as it always was, even when you were there the silence was the same, but to him it was a stark difference. Your missing presence was notable, it left him on edge and more snappy than his normal, usually friendly jabs. Fingers twitching often like he wanted to hold something, wanted to reach out and grab.

It was this pining, the want in his chest that lasted the entire mission, that led him to your room, quickened steps uncaring of the time of night, of the fact anyone of sound might would be asleep right now. Not Simon, however, not when he spent the last weeks aching to touch you, the time alone on watch usually spent by your side instead spent humping his fist, nothing being enough without your touch, your voice right beside his ear.

The way he slammed your door open he was surprised you didn't wake up immediately, the desperation causing him to use a little too much force, if the walls weren't as sturdy as they were, he was sure the door handle would have left a sizable indent in the wall behind. He just couldn't help himself, not when you were finally in his reach, finally before him, finally able to feel you again, properly.

The scent of you, your room full of everything you, was enough to make Simon shiver, hands almost shaking as he removed the blanket from your sleeping form and grabbed your hips, dropping to his knees and pulling you towards him. He knew you were okay with this, heard your voice telling him to just take you whenever, you really wouldn't mind, not when it's him, not when you've missed him just as much as he's missed you. Any touch from him is a blessing, waking up to him is an honour.

He made quick work of your shorts, your underwear alongside them, almost groaning when he could finally see all of you, finally see the hole he'd been desperate to fuck the entire time he was away from you. His hand never compared to being buried deep inside of you, how tight you were, how you would whine his name and beg for more. Shoving the mask off of his face, the balaclava up above his nose, he spread you apart with his thumbs and let a low hum at the sight, how absolutely delicious you looked.

He missed this. Missed seeing so needy for him, even unconsciously, he loved knowing that you needed him as much as he felt like he needed you.

It was easy for him to lean down, press a soft kiss against your clit, before absolutely devouring you.

It was your own loud, depraved whine that woke you up, your thighs tensing around Simon's head and hand immediately going to push him away.

"Don't," Simon all but growled at your attempt, flattening his tongue to lick from hole to clit. His voice was so deep, so gravelly, you couldn't help the whine that escaped.

You went slack against the bed, the hand in the top of his mask only tightening, no longer pushing him away but pulling him against you, thighs tense on either side of his head.

"Sweet thing," Simon's voice was low, a quiet whimper. "Sorry for wakin' you, just needed your cunt too badly."

"It's- okay!" Your voice was all whines at this point, high pitched and needy. Even when trying to reassure him, he didn't pause for even a minute. Even when you were trying to tell him you didn't mind, that he could spit in your mouth and use you so that he gets off, you wouldn't care at all, so long as he feels good.

Sleep still clouded your mind, still covered your thoughts in a blanket of grogginess, but the pleasure Simon gave you was red-hot, almost blinding. It was hard to even think when he was this close, this determined to bring you to the peak of your pleasure over and over, as much as his energy drained body would allow.

"Simon," You whined, and you could feel him grin against you, could feel the low groan he let out at you simply moaning his name at his actions. He really was pent up, if just your voice and taste was getting to him that much, and he thanked whatever God was out there that you were too tired to focus on anything, you weren't able to see how he was humping the air.

"S'okay, love, just stay still, yeah?" Voice slightly muffled, unable to pull away even to respond. "I'll take good care of you…"

He touched you, ate you, like a man starved. And he was. He missed your taste so much, missed feeling you tremble on his tongue. He would happily spend hours between your thighs, devouring you whole.

"Needy cunt just wanted attention, who am I to deny my sweet little thing?"

Suckling your clit into his mouth, it wasn't hard for him to move his fingers to your hole, for him to press inside, very little resistance as a result of his tongue and how much your pussy was practically drooling against him.

Your hands were tight in his hair, the balaclava pushed off due to your grip, your desperation to touch him, your Simon, not any mask or material.

"S'too much, please-!"

"You can take it," He muttered against you, eyes lidded and watching, tone almost stern. "You're always so good for me, always so sweet… you can take anything I give you, pretty thing."

His lips and tongue on your clit, fingers pressed deep inside, the fact he was finally here, in your bed like you dreamed of him being, was all so overwhelming. It didn't take long for you to reach your peak, not when you've been waiting for this since the moment he left, been waiting for his touch since the last time you felt it.

The hands in his hair tightened, your voice raising an octave as you moaned his name, and if Simon wasn't as strong as you knew he was, you would be worried at how tightly your thighs were around his head. You knew he didn't care, knew he welcomed anything that meant you were as close as possible, loved when rode his face and used him for your own pleasure, as you were doing now, bucking against him and holding him close.

The groan he let's out is low, needy, and if you weren't as overwhelmed as you were, completely out of it with white hot pleasure, you would have teased him for how much it sounded like a whine.

It quickly became too much, hand still holding his hair tight moving to push him away, move him away from your incredibly sensitive cunt.

The grin he gave you was devilish, devious as he moved up from his knees to kiss you, to press his lips against yours and consume you whole, based on how desperate he seemed.

"Simon," You muttered into the kiss, breathing slowly and heavily. You had missed him so much, missed feeling him against you, it was such a blessing to have him back.

"Gimme a minute," Your voice was low as you pulled away, moving to instead trail kisses down his cheek, his jaw. "You can do whatever you want to me."

"No need," he spoke quietly, slowly, like he was ashamed. You would be worried if it wasn't for the flush on his cheeks, the way he narrowly avoided your eyes and refused to look at you. "I'm uh... I'm good."

Simon, the insatiable man that he was, refusing something like this? You moved one hand to hold his jaw, pulling back with narrowed eyes. He still refused to look at you, and when he moved his hips away, you realised what happened.

Simon came in his pants from eating you out.

The grin that spread across your face was quick, bright, and it only made the flush on his face worse.

"Simon!" You whispered, grin bright and tone full of fake shock, "Really?"

"Don't," He groaned against you, hiding his face in your shoulders. "Seriously. Don't you dare. Fuckin' embarrassing."

You quickly moved to press another kiss on his lips, full of love and utter adoration. You knew what he was like, knew how easily he could turn against himself, feel bad about the smallest of things that didn't truly matter. It was easy for him to put walls back up, to pull away and retreat back into himself, and you wouldn't let that happen.

"You're so fucking hot," You muttered into the kiss, gently biting into his lower lip. "Jesus, Simon, really? God, I can't believe you're this hot,"

The low noise he let into the kiss made everything worth it. The time away, the time spent missing him, it didn't matter when he was here, finally.

Simon was home, back with you, where he belonged.

#simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #modern warfare smut #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2

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statusexile · 5 months

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Task Force 141’s favorite torture method when they found out you work for Makarov is by tying your arms and legs wide open to the bedposts while you’re naked as they wrote derogatory words such as “cock whore”, “cum dumpster”, “gang rape me”, “free to use” all over your body. You will be nothing but their fuck toy, your body will be used at their own will. Your cunt and asshole will be so fucking sore and puffy after having to fuck them multiple times a day to the point it became numb.

Ghost and Price will be the most ruthless ones, they’ll fuck you like you’re a subhuman, torturing all your holes not only with their fucking thick cocks, but by using every single thing that they could fit inside you, making sure your holes are gaping and stretched wide open, solely for their amusement as you violently scream for their mercy.

While Soap and Gaz will physically torture you by choking, slapping and constantly using your mouth as a fleshlight. They love hearing you gag on their cocks while they face fuck your mouth. If you pass out, they’ll slap you over and over again until you wake up only to be used by them again.

Your body is all sticky from their cum, basically oozing with them from every single pore on your skin at this point. Your mind and body is constantly about to break from them constantly fucking and torturing you, while the room you’re held hostage in constantly blaring with metal music and blindingly bright lights for 24/7. You’re lucky if you get any water or food, most of the time their cum is your only food for days. But hey, you’re a strong girl, right? I’m sure you’ll keep up with their demands.

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ma1dmer · 6 months

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Call of Duty - Vladimir Makarov NSFW

the first time I went on a date with a slavic man my mother turned to me and told me "I didn't immigrate, for you to be going out with Ivan from the village" anyways, here is ivan from the village

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): surprisingly he talks, he'll go on and on about the small things in his day to day, his shitty day, the things he's seen since he last saw you, his plans for the future ,especially if you speak his language, in the darkness of your room pressed against each other naked like that, he almost opens up to you

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): he loves legs, he is a man who can appreciate a good high heel to elongate them, loves fucking you in the tights and heels combo, very particular about them too, he sees you walking around in a skirt with a slit up the thigh and heels and he's pulling you to him, asking if this is his present

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): in the heat of the moment he's so into the idea of cumming on you, messing up that pretty face of yours or leaving his mark on you in a way, but the second that post nut clarity hits he is absolutely disgusted, quickly throws something for you to clean up with while wiping his hand

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): he is a bit of a masochist, its just one of those things he'll never admit and you better not bring them up at any point in any conversation, but it gets him so riled up when you have the balls to slap him back, he doesn't encourage your behavior outside of very specific moments in the bedroom though, it's rare for him to actually allow it, but you can immediately tell when he's in one of those moods, he'll be lost in the feeling of you wrapped around his cock and suddenly yank your hand to wrap around his throat and growl at you to go on

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): a man with a lot of experience, mostly anonymous hook ups here and there, so it's tough to get him to get used to an actual serious commited relationship, but it's nice, he won't complain with having someone to always warm his bed or wait for him to come back home

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): the basics, on your back holding your legs as he fucks you, he'll kiss your forehead or cheek growling filth against your sweaty skin, if you turn away from his kisses he forces you to look at him, gets very petty about that

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): serious and very very intense

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): all natural, not particularly hairy but he doesn't do anything to it, he always smells very very strongly of cologne as well

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): not exactly romantic, if you keep him content and his bed warm, he spoils you outside the bedroom, that's his way of showing he cares and his commitment to you, but he keeps his distance in general, he is a greedy greedy man, he wants your full attention but won't give you his unless he is forced to do so

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): before he thinks of jacking off he first texts you, if you don't answer his texts, he calls you, asks you if you are busy, not really caring for any answer other than "no, my love, what do you want?" ,he'll be stroking himself through his pants as he asks you to come over or tells you he's about to pop in for a bit, if you happen to be busy he'd rather take a shower and wait for when when he can next see you again

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): power dynamics, impact play, choking etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): he keeps his private business behind closed doors, can't stand the idea of other men ogling you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): a short skirt, high heels, red lipstick, play a bit of dress up for him, he's a simple man who can still enjoy the simple pleasures of life

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): he does not share, he gets angry with you when another man looks at you, can't even comprehend the thought of bringing someone else in the bedroom, if you even suggest it, you are out, he's gone, and he's fucking every single woman within a 100 mile radius as revenge

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): loves receiving, he is not particularly gentle with it though, he likes things very specifically so he orders you around or straight up moves your head like his personal fleshlight, he also enjoys having a finger or two in him while you give him head, won't talk about it outside the bedroom, but always lifts his hips up or straight up moves your hand to his ass when he fucks your mouth to let you do your thing

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): rough and fast, he'll take his time to prepare you but once he's inside he's almost single mindedly chasing his own pleasure, you have to keep up with him and take matters into your own hand, enjoys the show greatly

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): not a big fan, if he is at work, he is at work, you don't intrude during that time and he hates nothing more than an impatient brat

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): not really, he likes things very particularly done, its difficult to convince him to do something new, he's not unmovable but if you insist too much he gets stubborn and will keep denying you

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): it really depends on the context, how long since he last saw you? how pent up is he? after a success or a failure? how generous is he feeling that night? is he spending the night or needs to fly out in a couple of hours? everything moves with his schedule

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): he's quite possessive and very self absorbed, he doesn't like the idea of you using them by yourself when he's gone, but can definitely be convinced with something he can control for you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he is pretty straight forward, isn't so much a tease as he has a bit of a mean streak, he enjoys the little jump you make when you think he's gonna spank you ,but instead he just gently cups your ass or thighs, will smirk and ask you if you are scared of him or something, tells you to relax and stop being so tense, even though you have legit reasons to be worried

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): grunts and groans and a lot, a lot of dirty talk, especially if he sees it gets a rise out of you, you'd expect him to be quieter but no not really, he makes these deep guttural grunts as he fucks you and curses up a storm, especially in russian

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): he is a pussy slapper, he eats it with precision and great enjoyment, but he's so mean about it, will coo at you in russian when you flinch at his touch

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): average length but very thick with a slightly thinner crown, very hard to adjust to

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): very average, it's common to send you off with a wave of his hand if he is busy, but when the need arises in him he does expect you to drop everything for him

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): this man is a little spoon, he will never admit it or ask, but every night he turns his back to you and expects you to hug him at some point

#call of duty #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #makarov smut #makarov #makarov x reader #vladimir makarov #vladimir makarov smut #vladimir makarov x reader #modern warfare #modern warfare smut #modern warfare 3 smut #modern warfare 3 x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #cod smut #cod mw3 smut #.writing

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inkbybambi · 7 months

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dbf!john price shotgunning his cigar with you —

words: 5.2k rating: e warnings: smoking (cigarette/cigar), age gap, shotgunning, pet names and praises (darling, good girl, pretty girl), handjob, blowjob/deepthroating, cunnilingus, fingering, price is a consent king, panty stealing. please let me know if i missed something! notes: oh my god, this is pure filth. as always, minors dni as this work and my blog are 18+. dbf!trope makes my brain go fuzzy. enjoy!

he finds you in the bathroom, blowing smoke out the open window, half-empty pack of cigarettes by your side on the counter you're perched on, lighter tucked inside.

you're frazzled as he opens the door — as is he, assuming no one would be in the bathroom.

it's a habit you picked up from too many nights out with friends. you don't like how it tastes, but it's comforting and familiar and so you seek it out when overwhelmed or nervous.

and you are.

captain john price, your dad's best friend since before you were born.

he came over unexpectedly — or, unexpectedly to you, your father seems to have been anticipating him.

he's dressed down in civilian clothes — you've mournfully never been able to see him when he's in his gear — but he looks like a god damn greek god. he's so fucking attractive, you're convinced it's ruining your life.

boys have asked you out, here and there. but none of them have that beautiful mustache or eyes that crinkle in the corner when they smile or the ability to look fucking delicious puffing on a cigar.

you want to devour him.

you need to.

"sorry, love," and you have to suppress the shiver that crawls down your spine at the pet name. "didn't realize anyone was in here."

he lingers in the doorway, before stepping in and closing the door behind him, going to wash his hands.

"i could've had my panties down," you say back.

jesus fucking christ, what's wrong with you?

he seems to be biting back a smile, turning off the water and drying his hands. his eyes catch yours, glittering in the light, darker than before.

"wouldn't that have been a sight," he muses, pulling a cigar from his coat.

you swallow and shift as you feel arousal leak out, panties growing wetter by the second. you bring the cigarette back to your lips with a shaky hand, barely inhaling before you're coughing out the smoke, tears pricking your eyes at the sting.

he tilts his head as he regards you. you're beginning to feel like prey.

"may i?" he asks, nodding his head towards where the lighter is tucked into the pack, as he slips the tip of the fat cigar between his lips and fuck, you want to see his mouth against your pussy, licking into you and smearing your cum all over his stupid, attractive mustache and —

"s-sure," you squeak, fumbling for the lighter and holding it out to him.

he looks downright predatory as he steps into your space, slotting himself between your slightly parted legs, forcing them open so he stands between them easier.

he's so fucking close.

"go on, then," he says, a bit muffled, rolling the cigar with his teeth to settle it in the middle of his mouth, dark eyes never leaving yours.

you put the mostly-smoked cigarette between your teeth and use both hands to flick the lighter.

it takes an embarrassing amount of times before you get a steady flame going. a large hand wraps around your wrist as he holds the lighter steady, bringing the tip of the cigar down to light it.

you watch, enchanted, the tip glowing red. he leans back, one of his hands falling to settle on your knee as he uses the other to hold the cigar, taking it out to blow the smoke to the side.

"it's a nasty habit," he says, cigar back in his mouth as he pulls the dying cigarette from your mouth, the butt tinged with your lipstick.

"you're one to talk," you say, slowly and carefully bringing your fingers up to slip through his belt loops, pulling him that much closer.

he moves willingly.

"you ever smoke a cigar?" his voice is deeper, rougher.

you look to him, doe-eyed and glassy, voice soft.

"no, never."

he makes a noise of thought low in his throat and it goes straight to your cunt. if he presses just a bit closer, your hips would be flush together.

his hand — warm and comforting — slides up the base of your throat to hold your jaw, fingers pressing into the hinge.

"open up, darling," he murmurs. your mind goes blank, white noise in your ears and static in your head. you immediately open your mouth, and he makes another noise in his throat. it sounds like approval.

"good girl," he says — purrs — and you know he feels the way you swallow at the pet name, the praise. he crowds in that much closer and you feel the outline of his cock, half-hard, in his pants. you inhale through your nose, fingers tightening in his belt loop.

he inhales the cigar deeply, the tip burning a bright red, orange, yellow, and he pulls away and keeps his mouth sealed. he holds the cigar to the side, as not to burn you with any falling embers, moving to slant his lips over yours. he blows the smoke into your mouth, tongue pressing against yours for only a moment before he's pulling away, closing your mouth.

he nods towards the window after he deems that you've held it for long enough, and you blow out a small trickle of smoke. heat licks at the base of your spine.

"how's it taste?"

fuck if you know, too busy remembering the feel of his lips against yours, the way you felt his cock harden as he licked into your mouth. but the taste lingering on your tongue is heady — earthy and spicy and like something you abso-fucking-lutely should not be doing.

"i don't know," you whisper, other hand going to his waist to cling to him, legs tightening around his hips. "better," you add on, eyes dark and needy as you press into him.

he feels the heat of your cunt through your panties, the way you're sopping into the cotton. you're wearing a dress, one that shows off the tantalizing line of your collarbones, the dip of your sternum to your breasts, a slit in the side that shows a flash of your thigh when you walk.

he wants to fucking destroy you. sink his teeth into every available inch of your soft, sweet flesh. he wants to make the mark so deep that it bruises for days, possibly scars. he wants to know what your skin tastes like, especially between your thighs. wants to hear the way you cry and whine and beg for him, and he would give in so easily.

a man of his caliber, steadfast in the chaos of war and operations, thinking on his feet and willing to do whatever it takes to come out on top — he's brought to his knees at the prospect of having you, pressing you into his bed every morning and leaving you pliant and satisfied. the pleasure lingering just long enough to tide you over throughout the day until he gets home and gets to fuck you again, bury himself in your wet heat and watch as his cum spills from your puffy pussy, all slick from his mouth and spend.

he hums in this throat, bringing the cigar back to his lips to do it again. you straighten up that much more, eager as your eyes flit to his mouth, mouth already open in anticipation. he'd laugh at your eagerness if he wasn't so hard.

he moves his hand to wrap around your throat, watching as your eyes darken from the pressure. his mouth is on yours once more. you paw and grip at his shirt, as he moves to cradle the nape of your neck. he tilts your head to the side to seal your mouths together.

all pretense is dropped.

the cigar falls forgotten into the basin of the sink, a growl in john's throat as his free hand goes to your waist, fingers pressing in enough to bruise. he licks deeper into your mouth, your brain going fuzzy from the slick heat of his tongue dragging against yours.

he bites and nips at your lips, soothing it over with his tongue, and you dare to do it back, eyes fluttering open as you capture his bottom lip with your teeth, biting ever-so-slightly.

his eyes are nearly black.

trailing his mouth down the curve of your jaw, he situates you enough to pull your dress up to bunch around your hips. a pathetic whine leaves your throat as he pushes you away enough to pull the straps of your dress down, exposing your breasts to his eager mouth.

"so fuckin' beautiful," he pants against your collar, your head tipping back to give him better access.

you reach for his belt, cock pressing hard against his zipper. an animalistic sound reverberates through him as the clink of his belt echoes through the bathroom, the only other sound buried among sharp, short breaths and groans.

"darling — " he starts, moving as if to draw your hands away. a noise of protest stops his movement, as he pulls back to look at you, trying to clear his mind enough to talk.

"you don't have to," he says, voice wrecked but so, so soft.

your fingers continue their path, belt unbuckled, deft movements opening the button and carefully pulling the zipper down over the prominent bulge.

"but i want to," you whisper back. you'd give him anything he wanted, if he asked.

he takes a good, long moment to study you, palms surprisingly soft as they cup your face, looking for any signs of hesitation. the sincerity shines through so clearly in your eyes, bottom lip trapped beneath your teeth as your fingers dance around the waistband of his boxers.

you'll stop if he wants you to. you’ve never been with someone who’s cared so much about your comfort, but his eyes are warm and a smile pulls at his lips, and your heart thumps a little harder between your ribs.

you lean up enough to drag your mouth over his jaw, kissing the tip of his chin, his beard tickling your lips. "please?"

he swallows hard, exhales through his nose before his fingers thread through your hair and pulls you in for a heated kiss, more teeth and tongue than before.

"go on, darling," he mumbles against your cheek, and he feels the smile that stretches on your lips as you push his boxers down enough to free his cock. you look down with rapt attention as your fingers curl over his length, thick enough that you can't touch the tips of your fingers together. he's hot in your palm, and he's so fucking big. your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you.

"yeah?" he asks against your jaw, seeing your hand around him. his tip leaks pre-cum, and you drag your hand up to draw your thumb over the slit, watching as it spreads.

"yeah," you reply, dazed, unable to stop touching him.

he grips your hand to pull you off, chuckling at the pathetic noise you whine out, his name dripping in a tone that makes him ache. he doesn't say anything, and you lock eyes as he laves his tongue in a stripe over your palm, damp as he brings it back to wrap around him.

you pump your hand, adjusting your grip a few times until his breath hitches, burrowing into your neck and grazing his teeth along the column of your throat. you tilt your head to press your lips to the side of his head, gripping him more firmly and starting a rhythm of steady strokes.

"'ve thought about this," he confesses, gripping the counter beneath you. he's trying not to fuck up into your hand.

"did you get off to it?" you're breathy and dizzy, torn between focusing on how his dick feels in your hand — something you've been wanting for a while now — and the way his mustache and lips feel against your skin. it's awkward, and your rhythm falters here and there, but he isn't complaining.

"absolutely, i did," he answers, and it thrills you. pre-cum steadily drips from his slit and gets mixed in with your strokes. it's obscene, the sounds his cock makes as you get him off. he's breathing and groaning right against your ear. you think you could cum from the noises alone.

"christ," he grits out, teeth more insistent on your jaw. "doing so well for me, pretty girl. feels so fucking good."

the praise warms you, making you eager to please, eager to be good.

he drags his mouth from your jaw down to your throat, nipping and licking over the skin until he groans, and you feel his dick pulsing in your palm. he grips your wrist for you to stop. you do, but you tighten your hold on him as well, not willing to let go just yet.

"'m gonna cum, darling, fuck," he growls into your shoulder, trying to gain his composure. it's been so long since anyone touched him, and he's almost desensitized to the way he fucks his own fist. the fact that it's you with your hand wrapped around him, possessive and needy? he's surprised he's lasted this long.

"mouth?" you ask quietly and he has to blink to clear his vision, pulling back enough to see your eyes, nose brushing yours.

"hm?"

"can you cum in my mouth?" you offer again, and he damn near spurts all over you at the suggestion. "easier to clean up," you rationalize.

you're not wrong, but god damn.

price takes in a steadying breath, then pulls back to look at you, face cupped in his hands. your eyes sparkle, lip caught between your teeth and you blink up at him with glassy, wide eyes. he pulls you in close to kiss you, far softer than anything before. he takes his time licking into your mouth, savoring how you taste — the remnants of the cigar is faint, but it’s there. it isn’t frantic or urgent, and it makes your heart ache. your free hand rests on the side of his face as you kiss back, trying to convey something you don't quite wish to name.

he drags his lips from yours, smearing them across your cheek and down your jaw, to the sensitive skin behind your ear. he bites gently at the lobe, voice rough and accent thick.

"right. on your knees, then."

he steps away just enough for you to slip from the counter to the floor, eyes dark as he watches each moment pass, not wanting to miss a single thing.

as you settle on your knees, he tucks a few errant strands of your hair behind your ear, ensuring nothing obscures his view of you. he cups your jaw, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as you brace your hands on his thighs, blinking your hazy eyes as you try to focus on his face instead of the way his cock hangs so close from where you pulled him from his boxers. you draw his thumb into your mouth with your tongue, and he presses down, a firm pressure. your lips close around the digit, gaze never wavering as your tongue swirls around it gently before sucking, his breath catching.

"c'mon darling," he says softly, drawing his thumb from your mouth and spreading the spit clinging to it across your lips. "don't make me wait too long."

you grip the base of his dick with one hand, taking a moment to lick around the head, gathering the pre-cum that drools from the tip. you dip your head down to lick a broad stripe from the base to the tip, drawing him into your mouth.

he groans low in his chest, one hand bracing on the counter while the other threads back through your hair, gripping on the side of a little too painful, but it feels so fucking good as you open your jaw further to accommodate his size, feeling each inch push into your mouth and to the back of your throat.

"mind your teeth, love," he notes, voice raspy and hoarse. you take a chance, grazing your teeth lightly on the sides of his cock, and his fingers tighten further.

"careful," he admonishes, the heat in his eyes licking down your spine. "be a good girl for me, yeah?"

fuck, you'll do anything he asks if he continues to call you that.

you pull off his length to lap at the head with small kitten licks, keeping your eyes on him, making sure he's watching when you take him back into the wet heat of your mouth, fingers digging into his thigh more firmly for balance.

you take him as far down your throat as you can manage before you choke, using your hand to pump what doesn't fit in your mouth. you move your mouth up and down his cock, working in time with your hand, each glide coating him in your spit, making it easier to take him.

he can't take his eyes away, pleasure numbing his system, entranced as he sees how good you take him, so eager to please. your mouth feels divine, the tip nudging the back of your throat, feeling the way you swallow around him.

"that's my girl," he praises as you take more and more of him each time, until you're able to remove your hand entirely and press your nose to the thatch of curls at his base.

"jesus christ, look at you, so fuckin' beautiful," he grits out as your throat pulses around him. you choke and sputter, pulling off him entirely, breathing heavily. your mouth is a mess, spit dripping down your chin, his cock soaking with it.

"don't hurt yourself," he breathes out, carding his fingers through your hair affectionately.

"i want you to..." but you're too embarrassed to say, never having been in this position before. never wanting to do it before.

price is patient, waiting for you to continue.

"want me to what, pretty girl?" he rumbles when you need more prompting. "don't be shy," he adds, content with cupping your face and taking in how you fit so nicely in the palm of his hand.

you shift uncomfortably, before your eyes linger on his cock, dripping with your spit and the last remnants of your lipstick. you feel empty without him in your mouth.

"fuck my throat," you voice, doing your best to keep your voice steady.

he looks proud — why had you been so shy in the first place? — thumb brushing over your cheek. he seems to be debating for a moment, before he squats down to your level, grip firm on your jaw as he draws you in for a filthy kiss before he's standing back up, pressing the tip of his cock against your lips.

"you tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop, yeah?" he asks, and the authority in his voice makes heat pool thick in your belly, aching to be filled. you nod, tongue sticking out to taste him.

before you're able to get your mouth back on him, however, he pulls you away. you whine low in your throat in protest, but his hold is firm.

"tell me."

"if i need to you to stop," you begin, leisurely stroking his cock — needing to always be touching him — "then i tap your thigh twice. sir," you add on as an afterthought but he snaps, pushing the head of his dick back in the welcoming heat of your mouth.

"gonna fuckin' ruin me, i swear," he growls, keeping a firm grip on your hair and waiting for you to drop your jaw, driving into your mouth when you do, slipping deeper with each thrust.

you grasp his thighs, never breaking eye contact. your eyes water the deeper he gets, but you'd rather cry your mascara off before tapping out.

his thrusts are rhythmic, measured — the sound of him fucking into your mouth bordering on pornographic. he pushes you down further, until you're choking, gagging, tears and saliva spilling down to your chin. your nails dig in hard, but you don't tap out.

"oh, fuck," comes his choked-off moan, hips snapping harder, rougher. pre-cum coats your tongue with each thrust, until he's burying himself fully down your throat, your nose pressed against the base of his cock.

it's wet and messy and you gurgle and cough around him, but you love it. his resolve is cracking.

"i can cum in that pretty mouth of yours, yeah?" he checks one last time, shuddering as you only moan in agreement.

he pulls back until the head is resting on your tongue. you open your mouth so he can see as he jerks the rest of his length quickly, a few more times before he spills against your tongue. thick streams of his spend coat your tongue. he thrusts weakly as he cums, riding out his orgasm, a frisson of pleasure sparking through him.

he pants as he withdraws his softened cock.

"show me," he commands, and you obediently open your mouth enough to show him the cum gathered on your tongue, preening at the noise of approval that rumbles deep in his chest.

"swallow."

you close your mouth to obey, licking the edges of your lips for good measure, before opening your mouth again so he sees.

"good girl," he rumbles out, swiping your bottom lip before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans. "c'mere," he says, reaching for you to pull you up, crowding you against the counter.

you wince as your legs protest, aching with how long you were on your knees, but then you're being sat back on the counter, pulled into price's warmth as he kisses you again. you grip weakly at his shirt, letting in him relish the taste of himself clinging to your tongue, cradling the back of your neck.

"such a good girl," he says, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your dress to hook into your panties, dragging them down your legs and over your ankles, stashing them in his pocket.

you'd flush if you weren't so embarrassingly turned on, wondering and wanting to know what he plans on doing with them.

he pushes your dress up over your hips, spreading your legs to expose your glistening, sticky folds — desperate — and drops to his knees.

"look at you," he says, breath fanning on your thighs, teeth nipping lightly at the skin there. you whimper, one hand on the edge of the counter to keep you steady, the other moving to grab onto his hair, silky and gorgeous and feels so good between your fingers like every other part of him —

you try to focus on him, fucked-out before he's touched you, raising your hips to entice him closer, needing his mouth and tongue. he presses his lips to up closer, stifling a laugh, and you'd make some bratty remark if you weren't so worked up.

he looks at you as he laves his tongue over your slit, drawing up between your folds before circling your clit. your nails scratch at his scalp, head falling back as your mouth opens in a silent moan, panting out breaths.

john's warm hands grip at your thighs, keeping you still, licking leisurely between your folds and clit, a pleased hum low in his throat that you feel, sparks spreading through your veins.

"j-john," you whine out — soft, so you can't be heard — and his eyes snap to you, focused and determined. "please," you add, trying to draw him closer with the hand tangled in his hair, feeling like you're going to fall to pieces.

he presses a kiss to your hip, before he buries his mouth in your folds, and you keen. his grip on you tightens, his nails digging in hard enough to leave indents. you can't roll your hips like you want — need — entirely at his mercy as he licks through your folds, occasionally swirling around your clit, sucking on it lightly.

it feels so fucking good, biting your lip hard enough to taste blood to stop yourself from crying and moaning out. you settle for shuddering breaths, blearily blinking down at him, moving your hand to the nape of his neck, keeping him close, delirious with pleasure, never wanting it to end.

his tongue pushes into you and your grip on the counter falters, slipping and falling back, head knocking against the mirror. you whimper for an entirely different reason, pain blossoming where your head hit, and you're almost brought to tears when john pulls his mouth away, standing up and gathering you in his arms.

his lips are shiny with your slick, arousal coating his mustache, eyes blown black. he cradles the back of your head so gently, careful with his touch as he straightens you, tilting your head back to look you over.

you've never been one to pout but you are now, bottom lip out as you grip at his shirt. your palms are sweaty, but his shirt isn't slick like the counter. you feel like you could cry if he doesn't get back on his knees, finish what he started.

"y'okay?" he murmurs gently, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, down your temple, to your cheek, nosing your face to align with his, taking advantage of you pouting by nipping at your bottom lip before easing you into a gentle kiss.

you nod in reply, his free hand skimming up the length of your thigh, the fragments of arousal still swirling through your body.

"want you to fuck me," comes your shy request. you've no idea why you're shy — his dick was in your mouth minutes ago and he was eating you out like he'd be happy to die between your legs — and yet.

he presents you with his middle and ring finger, pressing them against the seam of your lips.

"suck."

you're hesitant, if only for a moment, but it's enough of a moment for john.

"be a good girl, now," in that fucking throaty drawl, and you're helpless, opening your mouth to let him do as he pleases with you. a satisfied smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, as his fingers drag over your tongue, pushing to the back of your throat.

wrapping one hand around his wrist, you watch him through glassy doe-eyes, swirling your tongue around his thick digits as best you can, swallowing and drawing his fingers deeper.

"there we are, sweetheart," he praises, and he feels your unsteady breath, "not so hard, hm?"

you want to bite him, whine and whimper and cry until he fucks you with his tongue or even the fingers shoved down your throat or his cock that's sitting half-hard back in his jeans.

but you don't, because you're a good girl.

strings of spit connect his fingers to your lips as he withdraws them, and he marvels at his drenched fingers. he drops his hand between your legs, circling your clit, causing you to grip at his arm.

"when i fuck you — and i will fuck you — " he starts, voice wrecked and low and addicting, "it's going to be in my bed so i can hear all those pretty sounds you make and fuck you until you're ruined."

he captures your mouth in a filthy kiss as he pushes his fingers in your cunt, buried to the knuckle. you cry into his mouth, his tongue licking against yours, swallowing the sound. his fingers are so thick, stretching you better than any toy you have hidden away in your bedside drawer.

he lets go of your head to lean down onto the counter, crowding into your space further, anchoring him. you pull away from his mouth to wrap your arms tight around his back, fingers gripping at his shirt, burying your face in the crook of his neck. he drags his fingers in and out, making you feel every inch.

your teeth make home in his shoulder, finding it damn near impossible to stop the noises rising in your throat, little whines and moans, feeling like fire is curling in your belly, sparking hotter and hotter with each thrust.

he hooks his fingers up, easily finding the squishy part inside your cunt that makes you see stars.

"oh, you like that," he says. not a question, because you can hear the smug fucking smirk pulling at his lips.

he thrusts his fingers hard, alternating between hitting that spot and pistoning his fingers, dangling you over the edge of an orgasm. you'll never be able to use your own hand again — now that you've had your blood ripped open and devastating pleasure injected into you.

"such a pretty fucking cunt," he growls against your temple, moving his thumb to press against your clit. "so wet for me, so needy." he switches to hit that spot inside you with each thrust of his fingers, thumb circling around your clit.

"fuck, john," you pant against his neck, thighs trembling as he draws you closer to your orgasm.

you can't say much more than that, dragging your teeth along the exposed line of his neck, mewling as you damn near drown in the pleasure.

"want you to soak my fingers, baby, show me how much you need it."

it doesn't take more than a few more thrusts with his fingers deep inside before you're clawing at him, pressing your face to his chest. you try so hard to bite back your moans, but white-hot pleasure shoots through your entire body, vision going black and starry as you gush around his fingers, cumming harder than you ever have by yourself.

the pleasure comes down to simmer, grip loosening, coming back to your senses. he slowly withdraws his fingers from your cunt, your arousal dripping down to his wrist, under the band of his watch.

you watch as he licks the evidence of your orgasm off the back of his hand and between his fingers, before drawing them into his mouth to suck them clean. his eyes never leave yours.

he drags them out as slowly as he dragged them from your cunt, savoring every drop he could get.

you grab for the front of his shirt, boneless and sated, and he comes willingly as you bring him in for a kiss, happily tasting yourself on his tongue. he takes the time to kiss you, softer and softer until you inhale a breath and let it out, body no longer strung tight.

with a kiss to your cheek, he leaves you sitting on the counter as he rifles through the drawers and cabinets until he finds a washcloth, dampening it under the faucet.

carefully — and so, so gently — he cleans up the sticky mess between your thighs, almost reverent in his touch. he moves to clean his mouth next. he pulls you from the counter after, helping you steady yourself and dress you to look presentable, but keeps your panties tucked in his back pocket.

"you okay?" he checks and you think you're in love with him.

"perfect," you reply, throat a bit scratchy, nuzzling under the curve of his jaw.

opening the door, he guides you out first, palm warm on your lower back. he moves to go back out to your parents, while you're determined to crash into a post-orgasm nap.

he pushes your hair back behind your ear, leaning down low enough to murmur, ensuring no one else but you can hear him.

"one of these days, i want to know what my cum tastes like dripping out of your cunt."

he leaves you like that, his signature smirk painted on his lips, turning and walking down the hallway, while you stare at his broad form retreating, wondering how soon you can get him back between your legs.

#ink by bambi #john price #john price/reader #john price x reader #john price/you #john price x you #john price smut #john price fanfiction #john price imagine #john price cod #cod john price #dbf!john price #modern warfare smut #modern warfare imagine #smut fic #cod mw2

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daisies-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Closer (Ghost x F!Virgin!Reader)

Pairing: Simon Riley (Ghost) x F!Virgin!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (18+) Warnings: Soft Sex, Virginity Loss, Penis in Vagina Sex, Graphic Descriptions of Genitalia, Vibrators, Vaginal Fingering, Vanilla Sex, Protected Sex, Slight Breast Play, Brief Sexual/Performance Anxiety, Mentions of Trauma Word Count: 4,088

Summary: Ghost and you are ready to take the next step in your relationship…and he intends to take his time with you.

Author’s Note: This is the fic I wrote for the “Who Should I Write My Next Fic About?” poll. I wasn’t sure which direction to go in at first, but eventually I decided on Ghost with a virgin/inexperienced reader. I may write another one where Ghost’s more rough, but we’ll see.

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You felt warmth spread through you from head to toe. Your lips were wrapped sweetly with Simon’s as you snuggled on your bed. His uncovered chest brushed against your perked nipples that lay beneath your tank top. You’ve never felt safer in your life, held in the sturdy arms of the man who called you his. The bed frame creaked beneath you when he suddenly rolled over, taking you with him. You giggled, cupping his square jaw tenderly. He smiled as he broke away from your kiss. You blushed as he pressed small, individual kisses to every one of your knuckles.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Simon murmured into your ear. The tips of your ears burned while he continued to kiss your hands.

“Simon…” you sighed when he dove his lips to your neck. Your boyfriend chuckled, his voice reverberating into your skin. You realized the warmth you felt was starting to trickle somewhere else…

You raised your hands and pushed at his chest slightly. His lips unlatched from your flesh.

“Love?” Simon asked, brows slightly knitted. You wiggled beneath him, your cunt clenching and unclenching around nothing.

“Si, I-I want to do it,” you gasped out. Simon cocked his head.

“You want to have sex?” his gaze remained glued to your pleading eyes. Your hands rubbed up and down his rugged abdomen, fingers tracing across each dip and curve of his muscles.

“Y-Yes. We’ve been together for a while, and I-I really want to,” you squeaked as you hid your face in his chest. He backed away from you, his raw, calloused hands clutching onto your own. He rubbed the back of your palm with his thumb.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he asked seriously. You gave a firm nod.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you affirmed. Simon inhaled through his nose. The gentle hum of the ceiling fan felt louder as he thought in silence. Your heart felt like it was ready to burst, as did the aching heat in between your legs.

“Alright,” Simon said. You squealed and lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his broad upper back. He gave a breathy laugh as he held you in his lap. “On one condition,” he said firmly. Your love brought you back down onto the pillows, laying you on your back. “You have to let me know if I’m doing something that makes you feel uncomfortable, okay? I want you to make you feel good, (Y/N). Can you do that for me?” he asked.

“Yes,” you agreed with a sweet smile. “And could you do the same for me?” you asked. His eyelids drooped as he shifted above you.

“Of course, love,” he whispered. Your eyes latched onto the distinct bulge growing beneath his dark pants. You looked into his eyes, two dark pools filled with so much love and hunger for you.

You weren’t Simon’s first. Before, he’d usually find a woman at a bar who was only looking for a single night of heated passion, only to leave their beds cold the next morning. With you, however, there was something that kept him anchored. The bear hugs you’d give him when he came back from deployment. The way you’d wrap your arms around him and kiss his temple when he jolted from a nightmare in a cold sweat. Maybe you weren’t Simon’s first to fuck…but you were definitely the first to love.

The scent of his cologne overwhelmed you as Simon lowered his mouth to meet yours. You moaned into his kiss, your hands traveling down to squeeze at his taut ass. He chuckled and bit your lower lip.

“Naughty thing,” he mused. You giggled before he blew a raspberry into your neck.

“Simon!” you squealed. His hands flew to your sides, his fingers digging into your flesh. You howled with laughter as he tickled you relentlessly. “Si! Stop! I can’t-I can’t breathe!” you wheezed. His fingers slid down to the hem of your pants. You gasped when his raspberries quickly turned into sucking.

“Si,” you breathed. He groaned into the junction where your shoulder and neck met, his teeth grazing over your skin. He sank his hips over your clothed cunt, his hard member poking into your arousal. You jumped at the sensation, sparks flying across your womanhood. You raised your hips to meet his.

“Yes,” you moaned. He smiled before licking a stripe over your pulse. You spread your legs as he rutted into you, his cock twitching above your clothed folds. You gasped as Simon gave a sharp suck on your neck, his lips latched onto your skin. Your heart raced as you hung onto his shoulders, the heat of his cock emanating from below his sweatpants and dripping onto your cunt. You blinked your eyes open as he detached from your neck. His light stubble brushed against your cheek as he gave another peck to your lips.

“Let me get something real quick,” Simon said while patting your thigh. You didn’t miss the subtle glint of mischief in his eye. You watched him slip off the bed and stroll over to your dresser. Your eyes nearly popped out of your head when he pulled out your thick, blue vibrator. The corners of his cracked lips turned up as he eyed your burning cheeks.

“Can I use this on you?” your boyfriend asked, head slightly tilted. You swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Y-Yeah. How did you know that was there?” you stammered, heat coursing through every inch of you. Simon chuckled lowly as he sat back on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight.

“Found it while I was doin’ laundry while you were sick,” he admitted. You pursed your lips as you remember him sucking in a deep breath last week while he was putting clothes away. He flicked the switch on and the toy began to hum to life. Your hips bucked forward in anticipation. Simon grinned, his eyes lidded as he watched you squirm and bite your lip.

“Can I ask you something else, love?” the bulky man asked.

“Anything,” you replied. He strode towards the bed and climbed on top of you. His body was massive compared to your own, his shadow nearly swallowing you whole. His eyes scanned over you before he hovered the vibrator over your covered pussy.

“Do you use this while I’m away?” Simon questioned. His voice was gravely and dripping with lust. You closed your eyes and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Y-Yes,” you gasped. He hummed before fiddling his fingers around the band of your pants.

“Who do you think about when you use it?” Simon grunted. He dropped the head of the buzzing toy just above your clit. You swallowed thickly.

“You…I always think of you,” you gulped. Simon groaned with approval. He gazed back at your lidded eyes, patiently waiting for your permission.

“I’m ready,” you said, your heart hammering beneath your sternum. Simon grinned before he slowly pulled down your pants. He silently gawked at the wet spot leaking through your black, lacy lingerie.

“Christ, ‘ave you been wearing this all day?” he murmured. You swear you were going to burst as his other hand slid up your exposed thigh.

“M-Maybe,” you blushed. His grin grew even wider as he admired the lacy work that adorned your beautiful curves, particularly the panties that barely covered your soaking snatch. “I wanted to-Oh!” You gasped when the head of the vibrator hummed over your bundle of nerves. Your body wound in on itself as he dipped the toy further into your clit. It felt like you were being struck by bolts of lightning each time he circled around the nub. He spread your legs a little wider with his free hand. Your hips jutted forward, riding on the vibrations as he went up to peel off your shirt.

“Simon,” you keened as you pushed your chest out. Your breasts were covered by more black lace, your cleavage a welcomed sight to his eyes. He drank in your whole form as you whined, the toy lapping away at your folds. Simon’s jaw clenched. Part of him, any part of him, needed to be inside of you now.

“Is it alright if I put my fingers in you, love?” Simon questioned as he tilted the vibrator back and forth between your labia. Your eyes shot open as you nodded vigorously.

“Fuck, please I need you, Si,” you moaned with outstretched arms. Simon’s breath hitched. “I need you”. Three words that made every inhibition in him snap in half. You curled your fists in the sheets as he pushed your panties aside. His dark eyes lingered on your soaked folds. You held your breath as you felt him spread your labia with his fingers, your slick coating his tips.

“You’re so wet already,” he groaned. You shuddered as he turned up the speed of the vibrations, the waves now pounding into your core. “So fuckin’ hot,” Simon murmured. You were melting in his touch. He watched your hole clench and unclench around nothing. He leaned forward, the tip of the toy now circling around your clit.

“I’m gonna put one finger in at a time, okay?” Simon whispered into your ear. Your hands clutched onto his tattooed forearms, your delicate fingers a sharp contrast to the bulging muscles.

“Okay,” you assured him. With a few more strokes across your folds, his index finger dipped past your entrance. Your mouth opened into a round ‘O’ as you felt his thick digit stretch your walls. You arched your back when he curled up into your spongy g-spot. Simon kept looking between you and his finger being swallowed by your cunt, watching for any signs of discomfort. Slowly, he dragged the finger out of your walls before pumping it back in.

“Si,” you moaned. You felt every curve of his digit as he stroked in and out of you. The vibrations on your clit sent shockwaves through your core as your walls tightened around his finger. Your legs shook as he soon added another digit, stretching you out more than your own fingers ever could.

“So tight,” he awed. He looked back up at you and your ecstasy-ridden face. You were moaning so loudly it could have shaken the bedroom walls. You pouted when his movements suddenly came to a screeching halt. The toy lay still against your clit, his fingers barely reaching past your tight entrance.

“You alright?” Simon asked. You nodded your head violently, nearly slamming it into the headboard.

“Yeah, why?” you questioned with a nervous glance. Your love looked you up and down, his brows slightly knitted.

“You just looked like you were in pain, love,” he said. The toy still hummed in his hand. Your face grew slightly pale as you opened your mouth.

“I-I was just…trying to do it right,” you admitted. Simon tilted his head.

“Do what right, sweetheart?” he questioned. You sighed and averted his gaze.

“You know, how women act in…” red instantly flooded your cheeks as you bit your lip. Oh. Oh. Simon placed the toy by your side, though he kept his fingers in your snug cunt.

“Hey, look at me,” the man said. You felt tears sting at the corners of your eyes. “(Y/N), please,” Simon said. You drifted your eyes back to him, afraid you’d see disappointment etched into his face. Instead, you found the softest smile you’ve ever seen. His free hand came up and cupped your cheek.

“You don’t have to pretend when we’re like this,” he said. You nodded, a tear spilling from your eye.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to be perfect for our first time,” you sniffed. He leaned forward and gently kissed your lips. You sighed, soaking in the warmth of his kiss.

“I don’t want perfect, I want you,” Simon stated. Your love’s dark chocolate eyes shined as he wiped the tear away with his thumb. He released a heavy sigh before pressing his lips to yours again. “Whatever faces or sounds you make-I want to see and hear ‘em. Because they are yours, understand?” he said firmly. Your lips curved up as you pressed your cheek into his hand.

“Yes. Thank you, Si,” you smiled. He returned your expression before sliding his hand down to your hip.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he said. The dam burst and you found yourself suddenly sobbing. Simon’s eyes widened as he circled his arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he faltered. You sniffed before pecking small kisses around his face, lingering on his mouth.

“No, I’m happy,” you said with a small grin. You’ve told each other that you loved one another before, but this time it hit you like an oncoming freight train. His large hand rubbed the small of your back, his clavicle leaning into your wet face. “I love you, too, Simon,” you as you clung to his shoulders. Both of you remained there, holding each other for what felt like an eternity, exchanging kisses every so often.

“Love, do you still want to continue?” your boyfriend finally asked. That’s when you remembered the feeling of his fingers filling your cunt. You leaned back, your head dizzy from all the emotions that crashed over you. You shifted your hips and sighed at the feeling of his fingers sinking in even deeper. He arched a brow as you spread your legs for him.

“Please, fuck me, Simon,” you pleaded while fluttering your lashes. He hissed through his teeth when you clenched your walls around his digits.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he groaned. His cock strained in his pants as he readjusted himself, making sure you were still comfortable in your position. “Gonna start movin’ my fingers again, alright?” he said. You bit your lip and nodded, pressing your hips down onto his hand. He started to pump in and out of your cunt, this time drawing out wet squelching from how wet you’ve become. Each stroke sent shocks down to the tips of your fingers and toes. He brought his thumb up to your clit, circling it tenderly.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your hands grappling at his wrists.

“Look at you, taking my fingers so well,” Simon praised. It sent another ripple of pleasure down your spine. He scissored his digits in your hole, your mouth releasing a silent cry as you were stretched even wider. It wasn’t long after that a third finger found its way into your gummy walls. You gripped his forearms as you felt yourself drawn to the point where pleasure and pain collided. You found a rhythm as you ground on his thick fingers, the discomfort slowly subsiding. You let whatever noises that came to you flow out of your mouth, your face now twisted in pure bliss.

“Si, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, your pussy fluttering around his digits. Your tongue threatened to roll out of your mouth when your felt him spread his fingers inside of you.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Simon murmured. His teeth nipped at your earlobe as he curled all fingers into your upper wall, the pad of his thumb wound tightly against your swollen bud.

“Si!” you cried as the cord in you was torn to shreds. You legs shook wildly as your walls squeezed his digits.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed. You melted into the mattress while you rode out your high, his lips at your ear the whole time. You winced as he withdrew his fingers, your hole now stretched out and quivering for more of his touch. Simon admired your slick that clung to his hand, his eyes delicately observing how it shone in the dim light of your bedroom. Your body shivered when he took the hand into his pants and snatched his aching cock. You moaned at the sound of your slick squelching as he fisted his dick. You stared at how the muscles in his arm bulged every time he stroked his cock.

His growls were damn near feral as he discarded his pants and underwear. When he turned around, your mouth snapped open. You gawked at the sight of his member. It wasn’t very long, but its girth made you realize why he had to stretch you out just moments ago. A drop of precum caught the light of the room before he tightly wrapped his throbbing member in a condom. He popped open a bottle of lube, slathering his cock in the jelly-like substance. His face was now wrought with an insatiable hunger as he climbed over top of you. You shuddered as a cold, wet feeling spread across your folds as he lathered the lube across your cunt. He snapped the bottle shut and tossed it aside. You fluttered your lashes as he line up his tip with your entrance.

“You sure you still want to do this?” Simon breathed. You reached down to his cock. Just a small touch of your fingers made it jump. He groaned when you wrapped your hand around his shaft.

“Yes, Simon. I want you,” you begged. You withdrew your hand, using it to grab onto his shoulders. He licked his dry lips, his fat tip breaching your tight hole.

“Gonna start slow, alright sweetheart?” Simon said. You nodded, breasts rising and falling as you tried to relax your walls. With a deep breath, he finally pushed inside. You winced as his head stretched through your entrance. You felt like you were going to be torn apart from the inside out as he carefully inched his cock into your plush heat.

“You’re doing so well, love,” Simon reassured with soft kisses to your face. Your lips curled into a tight line as you arched your back. Your fingers dug into his broad shoulders as he pushed in further, his shaft falling deeper into your walls. He was halfway in before he stopped.

“Love? How are you feeling?” Simon asked. You sucked in a sharp breath as you looked down. You gasped at the sight of his cock plugged into your weeping cunt.

“It feels so…tight,” you gasped as his cock twitched inside of you. He sighed, letting his hands fall to your hips. His thumbs massaged your sides as he pecked your cheek.

“I know, baby. Just try to relax,” he cooed softly. You nodded, taking slow, steady breaths. Your walls began to unclench around him, allowing him to slip in further. “Atta girl,” Simon praised. You felt your breath knocked out of you as his cock drove further into you. Each inch only added to the pressure inside of you. “Almost there, love,” your boyfriend encouraged through gritted teeth. Your head was swimming as he finally bottomed out inside of you, his balls tapping against your slick folds.

“I knew you could take me,” Simon grunted as he pressed his forehead down to yours. You tilted your head, catching his lips in a heated kiss. He let you to adjust to his size as both of you moaned into each other’s mouths. Simon pulled back, his pupils blown and lips parted.

“I’m gonna start moving. That alright?” he asked. You hooked your feet around his lower back.

“Yes,” you whined while arching your back. Simon hummed before he slowly pulled out of you. The loss of fullness felt strange to you, like letting go of someone after a long hug. It was quickly replaced once more as he drove his length back into your walls. You cried as he dragged his cock inside of you at a steady pace. Each stroke left your body shivering with bliss.

“F-Faster, please,” you moaned. Simon shifted his hips as he began to pump into you at a quicker pace. A moan was ripped from you when his thumb circled around your swollen clit. Your hands fell to his upper back as you drank in the feeling of fullness. Your fingernails dug small crescents into his muscles with each delicious drag of his cock.

“Fuck, feel so good around me,” Simon growled. Your pussy squelched as your arousal bubbled and oozed around his length. The heavenly pressure in your lower stomach was beginning to build again. His lips found their way to your tit, latching on and sucking tenderly. You thrashed below him, making one of his hands fly to your hip to steady you.

“Yes Yes Yes,” you chanted. Simon panted above you, his balls slapping against your slick folds. You keened and curled your toes when his head continued to ram against the spongy spot inside of you. He unlatched his mouth from your breast.

“Taking me so well, my good girl,” he growled before going to suck on your other tit. Your entire body sang with ecstasy as you gazed down the precipice of your release. He felt so heavy inside of you, ramming into you and showering you with praises. Your eyes widened.

“SIMON!” you screamed as you seized up. He hissed as your walls snatched his cock in a vice grip. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, his length dragging through you and helping you ride out your second orgasm.

“(Y/N), fuck,” he groaned as his head fell back. Simon’s dick quivered inside of your cunt as he stilled, his thumb pressed snugly against your folds. Your whole body felt like it collapsed into itself as you drifted down from your high. Your love groaned and panted above you, a sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies. Your pupils were blown, gazing up to his spent form.

“Sweetheart? Are you alright?” Simon murmured, his cock slipping out of you. Even though it slightly ached, you still whined at the feeling of emptiness that consumed your cunt.

“I-I’m okay...more than okay,” you breathed. He smiled and kissed your plump lips. Your grin imprinted on his mouth before he pulled away.

“You did amazing, love,” Simon praised. You frowned as he pulled his cock out of you. The condom was absolutely soaked in your slick. Your eyes gaped at his cum that pooled in the small pocket below. You swallowed thickly and thought what it would feel like when it would spill inside of you someday. Simon patted your thigh before tying the rubber into a knot and throwing it into the bin. His eyes shined when he turned back to you. Your cheeks were rosy, pupils blown and chest rising and falling. Simon slid off the bed, the sound of running water following not long after. You gave a tired smile as he stepped back into the room holding a warm washcloth.

“Gotta take care of my baby,” Simon drawled. Your heart skipped a beat, though the feeling was quickly replaced when you noticed some blood on the inside of your thighs. Your eyes widened. Simon looked down, his gaze soft and voice calm.

“Are you sore?” he asked. Your lips drew into a straight line before you gave a hesitant nod. He grunted before placing the washcloth over your folds. “How much does it hurt?” Simon continued. You flinched when he patted over your swollen clit.

“Not that much, just feels weird,” you replied. His lips pecked your knee as he finished cleaning you up.

“Hymen must’ve torn,” he said bluntly. Your face grew red. Simon stroked over your thighs, massaging the soft flesh. “It’s alright, happens a lot for people’s first times,” he reassured. You sighed, head resting back on the pillow.

“Thank you,” you said breathily. Simon grinned before he crawled by your side, his arms enveloping around you as he pulled you closer. He snaked one of his legs around yours. You sighed as Simon spooned you, your heart fluttering with every kiss he pressed to your neck.

“Want to take a shower with me?” you piqued. Simon lips froze while you turned your face to look at him. His eyes seemed far away as he thought for a moment.

“As long as I get to wash you,” he murmured. You chuckled, brushing your smaller hand over his.

“I’d be honored...but would it also be okay if we stay like this for a little longer?” you asked. He smiled and pecked your temple, his other hand stroking over your stomach.

“Of course, love,” Simon hummed. You closed your eyes as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. The two of you stayed in bed for a long time, wrapped in each other’s love.

_____

#ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #cod #cod mwii #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare ii #modern warfare smut #cod smut #cod fluff #smut

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2kiran · 10 months

Note

i hope your brain comes up with an idea for soap cuz my brain is EMPTY but i need that man crying and squirming from how good he feels:( I NEED TO EAT HIM OUT FOR HOURS AND TEASE HIS NIPPLES I CANT ARGHHH

“I WANNA F#CK, LIEUTENANT READER.”

pairing john “soap” mactavish x reader genre smut gn reader & trans ftm or cis soap. dom!reader x sub!soap cw lowercase typing. lieutenant reader. sparring. implied taller reader. marking. superiority kink. humiliation kink. slight brat taming. overstimulation. oral. fingering. nipple play

soap is becoming a little too stubborn for his own good.

you were growing more annoyed by the second.

for the past few weeks, soap had been teasing you nonstop. getting too close to you, performing suggestive acts in front of you, and whispering dirty words in your ear then pretending like nothing happened. he was practically eye fucking you with every chance he got.

currently, he was sparring with you. he insisted because he wanted to train for ‘fun’ and he hasn’t in a long time with you. whenever he got to pin you down, he lay on top of you way too close. you’d feel his crotch on the lower part of your body. “ya already tired, lieutenant?” he teased, you glared at him in response as you drank water. “cause of you? i’m definitely not.” you wiped off your sweat from your forehead. “right, and you definitely ain’t slackin’ off with me.” he retorted, wiping off his own sweat with the back of his hand. “if i wasn’t, you’d be long knocked out, sarge.”

he laughed, “that a challenge?” a newfound vigor stirred within you, “sure is.” with that, you both continued. he attempted to punch your chest, but you quickly dodged and kicked the small of his back. he groaned, catching himself before he could hit the ground. he successfully landed a fist on your side, leaving you stumbling before punching his rib. “ow!” he winced, clutching the affected rib.

“awh, did i hurt you?” you fake pouted. he rolled his eyes at you, “fuck off.” you barked out a laugh. “this is over.” he sighed as he began to remove his shirt. he caught you just slightly staring at him, “you like what you see?” he said with a toothy grin. “absolutely not.” you eyed him, seeing a small bruise begin to form from where you hit him. “sorry for your bruise.” his eyes flashed of confusion before looking down at his torso, “just a small one and it’s from you anyway.” he winked. your eye twitched in irritation. “you tryna fuck with me, soap?” he gulped down water from his bottle, almost chocking when you asked. he lightly coughed, “what’re ya talking ‘bout?” his eyes blinked, feigning innocence. “don’t do that.” you stalked closer to him. “don’t do what?” the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“teasing me.” you replied. “but i’m not.” he backed off, nearing the wall behind him with every step. “yeah? let’s not pretend you weren’t feeling me up.” his eyes widened a fraction as he felt his back meet the wall. “must’ve been feelin’ things.” he muttered. you plant your hand next to his head, caging him in. “quit lyin’ to me.” you trailed your free hand down, hovering right below his crotch. “you’re already turned on, soap.” you whisper directly into his ear. he shivered, hips lowering to your hand. you pulled it away and you hear him stifle a whine.

“what’s got you acting like this?” you kiss the juncture where his neck and shoulder connects. “wanted your attention.” he confesses, gasping as you sinked your teeth into his neck, sucking in a hickey. “could’ve just asked, y’know?” you lick at the mark, “but that’s boring.” he defends. “if you weren’t gonna be this difficult, i would’ve been a lot nicer than i am now.” you suck at his collarbone and he squirms in your hold, “i like you like this.” you raise an eyebrow, “you got a thing for marking?” you nip at the other one, “only if it’s you.” he smirks. “you’ve been such a brat, soap, i don’t think you deserve it.” you whisper.

he whines, “c’mon. fuck me.” you chuckle. “i got a better idea.” he frowns. you kneel in front of him, his eyes widen in surprise. “what are you–” you cut him off, “silence, sergeant. you don’t want anyone else hearing you, do you?” his eyes squint in a glare. you kiss the inside of his thigh, so close to where he needs you the most. “do you like fucking your superior?” you suddenly question, gripping his thigh to give you space in between his legs. “i...” he hesitates, “you what, hm? fucking a superior and acting very inappropriate during meetings, missions... and much more than i could name. you’re the one being so unprofessional, always begging to be fucked.” the tip of his ears burned in humiliation, cheeks flushing and a whimper suppressed. “bet you like the idea of someone being stronger– having more power than you. you just won’t admit it. moaning a ‘lieutenant’ every chance you get to be alone.” you bite into the meat of his thigh. “is that why you asked to spar with me? so you could get off on my strength, soap?”

he bit his bottom lip, “maybe.” you lick at the bite. you pull his sweatpants along with his boxers, revealing his wet core. “used my fingers earlier.” he answered your silent question. “so impatient.” you teased. you circled your tongue around his hole as he let out a quiet moan. you press your lips near his hole, causing him to squirm against you in anticipation. he opened his mouth to say something, but you shove your tongue into him. “you’re– hngh! oh god...” he gasps, you retract the muscle before you thrust it back in, setting a steady pace. you withdraw slowly and you roll your tongue against his entrance. “ah- mmmhf... hhnnngh... ‘m already close, fuckin’– ah!” he moaned.

you curled the muscle inside him, barely grazing his sweet spot. you inserted your fingers into him, getting him closer to the edge. “shit– fuck–” he muttered curses, before warm liquid filled your mouth and cascading on your fingers. he attempted to lift his trembling hips away, but you didn’t let him. “we’ve only just started.”

“c-can’t!!!! i ca– ffuuuck... can’t anymore!” he cries, hands grabbing at your hair and at the wall. he didn’t want to actually stop, already shoving your face into him more. he was only embarrassed at the thought of you milking him dry. fingers grazed at his sweet spot, driving him closer to one of his many orgasms. the both of you were glad that no one at this hour needed to use the training room because they would be shocked to find sergeant mactavish a whiny, little mess nearly sitting on your face. you’ve been at it for hours. yet, you never grew tired of him. you’ve developed a sweet tooth for him. “i-i’m!!! pleaaaaaseee.... ‘m gonna cuum, ngh!” he whined, his hand tightened in your hair. your face was soaked with his new wave of euphoria. as he was recovering from his climax, you stood up and he immediately snapped his head up to gaze at you, you kiss him before he could relish at the glimpse. he whines into your mouth, you knew he could taste himself.

catching him off guard, your fingers quickened inside of him. his arms wrapped around your neck, hips bucking down for more friction. with your free hand, you circled your thumb around his nipple before giving it a tight pinch. he squealed when you withdrew for air. you leaned down to lick at the other one, and he tugged at your hair. “sss-sensitive!! ‘m sensiiiitive thereee, pleaaase...” he slurred. “you said you wanted attention, so i’m giving every part of you mine.” he sobbed as you sucked on his nipple, teeth clashing against his skin while your other rubbed against it.

his flesh was littered with your bite marks, an evidence that this wasn’t a dream. he was drooling, blabbering incoherent phrases as you took your time with him. “take this as your punishment for being a brat.” you lightly bit the bud, causing him to gasp loudly. “mhhmm...mhmm, i’ll be good.” his eyes leaked even more tears from the pleasure. his brain turned into complete mush, his only thought was you. “lieutenant....” he moans your rank. “k-keep goin’.” he whimpers as you tease his nipples. “you’re so insatiable.” you smile against him.

he abruptly came with a loud groan, “ah– fuck!” your fingers slowed as you felt it coat your hand. “came just from that?” you kiss the bruise you gave him, “l-let me take care of you now.” he insists.

masterlist

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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year

Note

Tbh the way you write Krueger gives me sugar daddy / obsessive vibes (not that I can complain). I love the idea of him being so obsessed to please sweetheart in any way she wants (personally I HC him as a service top switch, specially w the way you write him). But if you’re ever up to it I’d love some Krueger drabble (or ghost or könig bc they’re yummy too)

-🪿(hönk)

HÖNK BABES OMG

18+

You are so right with him being a service top 👏 ugh he would so eat her out until she passes out. Round after round, with his big ass hands clamped around her thighs and his thick tongue flicking against her overworked clit. AUGH he would cum so quickly because of her taste and moans. He would cum just from eating her out 💀��

And he 10000000%% is obsessive with Sweetheart. He only thinks about Sweetheart 25/8 and all he wants to do is please her. He calls her "My little Goddess" for a reason ✨️ just touching her is a blessing to him. Touching her hand, he would crumble right then and there. He would do anything and EVERYTHING for this woman. He wants-- NEEDS-- to be around her all the time, or he will go INSANE. He's also pretty possessive with her. But Sweetheart shut that shit down, so he's only just a little teehee🤭 but yeah he becomes quite jealous when people talk to her. Don't touch her because you will lose a hand. And if you make a move? Oh, you're gonna end up either on a t-shirt or on a milk carton.

(I can go on and on with Krueger about being an obsessive freak with Sweets HAHA)

And hönk omg sugar daddy Krueger makes me want to fold😭 she wouldn't even ask him to be a sugar daddy, he would just do it himself. He LOVES spoiling her, even though she doesn't ask for it, he does it anyway. And of course she's thankful for it, she's not a brat. But that makes him buy MORE SHIT FOR HER

It's a cycle:

• Krueger buys something for Sweets

• Sweets yells at him

• Sweets says thank you and smiles

• Krueger gets the happy juice in his brain

And then it starts over 💀

He's even bought her an apartment close to his, but she wanted to stay in her old family home, so he said "okay. I'll just live closer to you" and she's like-- w h a t 🧍‍♀️

And OH he would so buy toys for her. Like vibrators. He bought one that he could control from afar and that was such a fun day LOL When he's not around, like on a mission, he made a mold out of his cock for her 💀 and yk... she uses it sometimes HWHEHSHES Krueger asked her to send a video of her using it and she does. She was so embarrassed and shy when she did it. Wearing one of Krueger's shirts and ONLY his shirt-- and her hair out (he loves seeing her hair down) and she's on the bed with the toy and she lubes it up, cause it's fucking huge. AND IT HAS A SUCTION CUP LOL so she just slaps on the bed frame and rubs it on her slit.

Fuck, and Krueger is just watching it like it's the last thing on earth. He is so FUCKING HARD and he wants to be there and fuck her himself. He hears her little whimper when the toy prods her hole. Sweet's is bent on the bed and holding a pillow, her eyebrows knitted and tears already springing in her eyes. Omg that makes Krueger go FERALLL

And once she backs her thick ass back into it, she squeals so loudly and starts to twitch. "Fuck... I think I just came..." GIRL I THINK KRUEGER JUST CAME WHEN YOU SAID THAT WTF-- she starts to grind on it, as much as she can fit, and starts to bounce on it. Her moans and whimpers flow through the speaker of his phone and other soldiers are just frozen and turned on, and are scared to shit to tell him that everyone can hear what's playing on his phone 💀(he honestly doesnt give a shit, hes too engrossed on the video) and Graves comes over, pissed at Krueger because it's extremely distracting whatever is on his phone. Graves was about to speak until he saw Sweetheart fucking herself on the biggest dildo he has ever seen. He has never seen her moan and whimper like that-- like gurl where has this side been?? And he just stands there with his eyes big and mouth gaping. His dick twitches in his pants and he feels light-headed. The fucking wet sounds of her stretched pussy and her low babbles and her bottom half jiggling with every bounce is straight torture for the both of them.

"Fuuucckkkk Krueger, if this is the size of your actual fucking cock I don't think I can take it..." Sweetheart whimpers out. Graves is like- SORRY WHAT

THAT BIG THING IS A MOLD OF KRUEGER'S COCK??? It's literally making a small bulge in her stomach when she sits up and it's not even in all the fucking way. Krueger growls, his knee bouncing like CRAZZYY "You'll take it, baby. You will." He mumbles to himself. Omg he's so turned on its making him unstable.

She goes faster, the bed frame creaking with her backing up on it. She gets louder and her thighs start shaking so damn much. "Cumming... Cumming!" She bites the pillow hard as her pussy creams around the dildo. She makes such a mess on the bed frame omg (Krueger and Graves wanted to lick it all clean) and she's breathing heavily, trying to calm herself down. Once she does, she gets up to get her phone, they can see that she's a bit sweaty and eyes teary and low. She wipes her face and she sighs before speaking. "I can't believe I did this. Fuck I'm still shaking. Just-- be safe Krueger." And the video ends. The silence is THICCKKKK AFTERWARDS LMAO

But I am making a smut fic between Krueger and Sweetheart, so keep an eye out for that!

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chaoticgoblindev · 7 months

Text

The Hat Rule

Pairing: Cowboy!Ghost x Fem!Reader

Pronouns used: She/Her

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, smut, cowboy hat rule, acquaintances to lovers, p in v, cussing, unprotected!sex, cowboy au, very self-indulgent heheh.

Summary: Visiting your Grandparent's farm leads to an honest mistake with the hot cowboy that worked there.

Oftentimes you would visit your grandparents on their farm out in the country. Not out of the kindness of your heart, not because you missed them truly and loved them, but because of a certain cowboy who took care of the ranch.

His name was ‘Ghost’, at least around the ranch it was, his real name was Simon. And oh boy was he intoxicating, plain and simple. Something about his brooding and seriousness had a certain weight on you that seeped straight to your core. He was the one thing exciting about the valley your Grandfather’s ranch resided in, kept things lively, and kept you coming back. Though these feelings festered not much was exchanged between the two of you. It was a crush, even when you desired more.

Upon a late afternoon, you found yourself on the porch of the ranch house, enjoying the sunset and breeze and taking in the beauty of the land. The mountains surrounding the valley gave a feeling of peaceful isolation like you were separated from the stress of the world. You closed your eyes to enjoy the moment when you heard a familiar voice call out to you. “Enjoying some fresh air, city girl?” Ghost chuckled, not that he needed to, you could just hear his smirk in the baritone levels of his voice.

Gazing up at Ghost, you saw him leaning against one of the beams that supported the porch with his arms crossed. His dark blue button-up was rolled to his elbows which exposed muscled forearms and a sleeve tattoo on his left arm. God. Was he TRYING to give you a heart attack? “Oh 'cause we don’t get enough in the suburbs right?” You smirked, enjoying the start of some usual casual banner. “I’ll have you know the 'fresh air’ here smells like cow shit.”

Ghost’s eyes crinkled and chuckled slowly, “You got me there. Yet you keep coming back, must love it then?” His eyes flickered with a curious emotion you hadn’t seen before.

When your eyes widened at being put on the spot, you felt like you made a mistake, like you accidentally revealed all your secrets. Quickly your face reverted into an appeasing smile, “Got me there. I just love it here.”

Ghost hummed as he pushed off the beam and kicked at the dirt with the heel of his boot. He looked out the horizon like he was scanning the land before he spoke once more.

“Got to get back to work, you’d best head inside when it gets dark. Coyotes like to linger ‘ere.” He huffed while glancing back down to you. You couldn’t help but get the feeling he was disappointed with something you said, which was unbearable alone in itself but the fact he gave you a curfew felt like he saw you as just his boss’s grandkid. “Wow, you’re giving me a curfew now, are you? Should I start calling you Daddy too?” The minute the words left your mouth you widened your eyes and dutifully slapped your mouth before staring up at him. Sometimes your intrusive thoughts won, and sometimes you wanted to jump the nearest bridge. “I- I didn't mean to say that.”

Ghost cut you off with a deep laugh, it sounded like heaven to you, “Fucking hell, kid. Yeah yeah sure, call me what you want, now go get your pretty ass inside and eat all your greens too.” He gave you a once over as you rushed inside with a reddened face, his eyes lingering on your ass and the jeans that clung to your curves in every right way. The front door shut and you disappeared from his sight. “Fucking hell doll..” He groaned.

_____

That night you lay in your bed with your face in the pillow, groaning with embarrassment. Ghost called you kid! How patronizing was that? Not only that but your loose lips ran you into the third most embarrassing event in your life.

Yet another thought lingered. He called you pretty, didn't he? He also didn’t seem put off by the comment so maybe…

Your thoughts led your mind into the dark depths of your imagination, your name on his lips, teeth nibbling at your skin, him and his body pressing down on you. Into you. Your hand trailed down your abdomen and past the hem of your panties as your mind wandered. Rubbing the already slick folds between your thighs you imagined his tongue trailing over your curves. How his hand would grab onto your ass, maybe even slap it. Would he be rough like you dreamed? Gentle? You let out a sigh as your fingers slide into your pussy and slowly pump in and out. It wasn’t enough anymore, the need and desire building more as you kept your whimpers silenced, aware of the way the old walls could echo in weird ways. The last thing you needed was your Grandparents hearing you getting off by imagining their ranch hand. Biting back an annoyed sigh, you glide your hands out of your core. It just wasn’t enough. You wanted him.

Finally, enough was enough, tomorrow you decided to make a move on him.

_______

By the grace of the universe, your Grandpa asked you to deliver a saddle that was shipped to the house and not the bunkhouse. It was a perfect opportunity. Now if your anxiety could just go along with the plan then it’d be great.

Luckily you didn't have to carry the hefty saddle down to the bunkhouse and were given the keys to the golf cart. The drive did little to ease your mind, the wind rolling along the tall grass and livestock chittering in the distance added noise to that busy mind of yours. The bunkhouse itself was built like a nice cabin, sizable enough to host a large group of people and close enough to the pastures for convenience. The neighs of horses nickering in the nearby stables covered the footsteps of someone approaching you.

“That the saddle your folks ordered?” Ghost asked, making you gasp and nearly drop the leather item from your hands but he reached around and grabbed it to keep it from falling.

“Fuck you scared the shit outta me!” You grumbled while casting him a glare over your shoulder. He smirked and tipped his hat to you which somehow just annoyed you more. Your hand reached up and yanked the cowboy hat from his head with a huff, as you put it on you took another look at the saddle. “Yeah that’s it, it’s pretty hefty, glad I got the golf cart, otherwise carrying it down would’ve been a pain.” You sighed and turned your body to Ghost.

The intensity of his gaze startled you, had you done something wrong? Did you say something offensive? “What’s wrong?” Your voice came out in a hushed tone, nervous as to what he would say.

He smirked, shaking his head and taking a step closer to you which made you take an initial step back into the golf cart. His grip on the saddle loosened until it flopped onto the seat again.

“The hat,” Ghost started with a purr, placing his hands on the top of the golf cart and looking into your eyes, “you’re a clever minx aren’t you…”

Was this all about the hat? Maybe it was special to him, otherwise what the fuck was he talking about?

“Oh I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” You began to lift the hat from your head when his hand caught your wrist.

“Do you know the rule about those there hats? About taking one from a cowboy and wearing it?” The husky accented drawl of his voice set your skin on fire and your eyes drifted to his lips then to his eyes.

“No… I don’t. what did I do wrong?” You couldn’t help but frown, assuming you might’ve broken some sacred cowboy superstition.

“Take the hat… means you gotta ride,” Ghost held your chin and pulled you close, “And it doesn’t require a saddle or reins… just me.” He tilted his head and watched your expression carefully for any resistance or disgust.

“WHAT!? I didn’t know that though!” A blush captured your cheeks as you covered your face. You did know yet happened to forget, you heard rumors about it when your friends were joking about a cute country guy on a night out.

Ghost seemed pleased with your response and pulled you away from the cart. “Well, it’s too late now, little lady.” He mused, his smile turning sly as he tossed you over his shoulder. “You gotta play by the rules like a good girl.” He laughed while taking you in the direction of the barn.

“Ghost- wait! Hey, put me down!” You thumped your fist into his back, you could feel your face flushed with embarrassment and hoped that no one could see y’all. Ghost continued to carry you, smirking when you lightly punched his back and delivered a slap to your ass in return.

“You have on the hat and now you must pay the price.” He taunted, walking towards the inside of the barn and kicking the door shut behind him.

The cowboy placed you down in the middle of the barn, the two of you alone. “You get a free ride... literally.” Ghost added, leaning against a wooden beam and crossing his arms. His gaze never strayed from your lips as they parted to form a sentence. The embarrassment took away your voice and as you tried to form words, you took the time to scan the surroundings of the cruddy barn filled with grain and hay bales. It wasn’t much of a secret around the ranch that you had a crush on Ghost, no matter how good you thought you hid it.

Rolling his shoulders back, he studied your form, a smirk tugging on his lips as he took a few steps towards you. He placed a gentle hand on your hip, his fingers squeezing your flesh as he looked down at you. “I know you have a big crush on me, sugar…” He whispered, his tone sending chills up your spine. “So, here’s your free ride…” Ghost cooed, his eyes glimmering as his other hand wrapped around the nape of your neck.

This was your chance, everything you wanted and more. Hell would freeze over before giving up an opportunity like this. So you leaned close, just to get a taste of him finally. Then he smiled and brought his hand away from your neck to cup your cheek and pulled you close until your lips came crashing together.

The yearning that was simmering in his soul was infecting, reaching to your heart and seeping into your core. He burned, in every way passion could burn, he searched your body like a temple of god, your lips his salvation. Ghost devoted his tongue to yours as he deepened the kiss, when he pulled away slightly his breath was labored.

“You're the only thing on my mind recently...” He whispered.

The corners of your mouth skewed into a smile. “You’re the reason I keep coming back out here.” You admitted, licking your lips to taste the remnants of him.

Something about that answer made Ghost snap, he pulled you flush against him by your wrists as he kissed you once more. He licked your bottom lip before fully exploring your tongue with his. His hands squeezed your hips a final time before he lifted you and placed you on a sturdy barrel. Ghost stepped between your legs and parted them, one hand massaging your thigh softly while the other worked on unlatching his belt buckle.

“You want this? Wanted me so bad didn’t ya, sweet thing?” Ghost purred as he slowly began to inch his jeans down to reveal the hardened outline of his cock. It made you suck in a breath which caused him to chuckle. “You can take it, you're my sweet tough girl aren’t you?” He pecked your cheek with a soft kiss and finally let his jeans fall to his ankle.

“Ghost… please..” You breathed, peering up at him through your haze. Your core was weeping in want, just begging to be ravaged and filled. You pulled him tight against your body with your legs around his waist, the imprint of his dick grinding against the jeans you wore.

Ghost let out a groan and kissed you again, his body pressed against you some more while he fiddled with the buttons of your pants and tugged them down. He flashed his canines in his smile while gazing at you with a burning lust. “I’ve been so damn eager for this, and I know you have too… the way you’ve been watching me, stalking me. Sweet girl… you think I didn’t notice?” He whispered and placed his hands on either side of your hips, his eyes baring down at you had an effect that made him feel imposing and larger than life.

“Well, I certainly can tell you’re eager.” You teased him and rolled your hips against his just to feel the firm imprint of his dick begging to be freed. Ghost chuckled as he grabbed your hips, pulling you to the edge of the barrel.

"I'm glad you can feel that..." He whispered as his fingers hooked the belt loop of your jeans. "It's... been itching to get out." With one swift motion, he pushed your jeans down your legs before tossing them onto the barn floor. Ghost admired your body from where he stood, his hands rubbing the soft flesh of your thighs. He loved how they smushed against the barrel and parted for him. His eyes looked over your body like a present as he slowly began to unbutton your blouse and fondle your curves. The shirt fell and bunched at your wrists and he couldn’t help but kiss you again. “God… you’re perfect.”

“Ghost…” You breathed and looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him a slight head tilt and smile. His eyes darkened and in a swift maneuver, he had sat on the barrel with you in his lap. You yelped and gripped the hat on your head with one hand, the other on his shoulder as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“I want you screaming my name. So call me Simon, baby… Now Ride,” Simon demanded.

“Say please.” You chided.

The man huffed but wrapped his arms around your waist and set his chin on your chest. “Please, babydoll?” He muttered gruffly.

Something about turning such a burly man into a stubborn pleading mess made you grin. “Lemme help you then…” you whispered into his ear, easing your hips and sliding your underwear to the side. From your vantage point, you could see the way his eyes fixed on your wet cunt and the way he licked his lips.

“Already so wet for me, aren’t ya?” Simon chuckled and rolled his boxers down until his cock sprung free.

“Already so hard for me, aren’t you?” You mimicked but were busy with gawking at his size.

Fuck.

Simon’s smoky tone captured your attention once more. “It’ll be alright love, we can make it fit..” he coaxed, rubbing circles into your hips. “Just take it inch by inch, yeah?”

You gave him a slow nod and glanced down to align yourself to him, gliding him between your folds. With a sharp inhale you slowly began to sink into him. Biting your lip, you make eye contact with Simon who looks at you gently, letting you take your time.

Just as a little more than the tip pushed in, a hushed moan came from Simon. Giving it a few more adjustments you soon hit the base of his cock and shivered at the feeling, a soft whine sounded from your throat as you winced at the stretch.

“Just give it a second, you’re doing so well.” He groaned, placing his hands on your waist to massage the skin gently. Simon slowly began to move his hips, pulling back small amounts before sliding fully in again. He waited as your expression began to shift into one with pleasure, your soft moans and the slick of your cunt being the only noise in the barn. “Yeah, there you go. Such a good girl.” He coaxed, slowly adding to the pace he set.

You moaned out his name and he gave a kiss to your cheek as he worked you open. While you got used to the feeling your hips slowly matched his. Simon let out a moan as your body began to grind against him, his fingers gripping onto your ass as you rode him. "Oh, god..."

His body tensed under yours as he held back strained moans, his fingertips dug into your thighs as he looked at you with complete lust and desire. placed a hand onto your chest and leaned up to your ear as he spoke.

"You're a natural, guess our lessons paid off… or maybe, you’re just a dirty girl.” His hand wrapped around your neck in a gentle yet firm caress, he pressed his thumb down along your throat just enough to get a depraved noise. “Which one is it, sweetheart?”

“Fuck ‘round n find out,” You smirked and clamped down on him with a strangled moan, adding, “You taught me well. It’s about time I put my skill to something worthy.”

Simon leaned his head back and closed his eyes as you began to grind your hips down onto him. You switched between fucking yourself on his cock and drawing circles with your movements. He thrusted into you now and then, as if reminding you that he was still in charge.

“Shit baby… That’s it, just like that.” He groaned, jutting his hips up harshly which caused you to yelp and clench around him. With the way he started to get desperate, you could tell he was getting close. You threw your head back and whimpered as you rode his cock. The feeling was unlike anything felt before and it was like the deepest parts of your soul were being reached. Simon’s breathing grew heavy and his mouth hung open as he panted for air. His fingertips dug deeper into your thighs as his head leaned backward once more. He grunted as his body tensed up, and his other hand came to your cheek as his eyes closed. "Come on, baby..." He muttered to you, his breaths hitting against your neck.

Feeling your climax slowly build, you moved your hips at a faster pace. Simon held onto your waist, aiding you with his thrusts. You both closed your eyes as you kissed, syncing together to chase the other’s highs with passionate instinct. “Fuck. I am so close, Si.” You gasped, your eyes rolling back at the way he reached your cervix.

Simon let out a muffled moan as he felt you twitching around him, your cunt clenching tighter around him as the two of you kissed, his hand left your hip and he slowly let his it drift to your thigh, his fingertips digging into your soft skin with every thrust. He groaned and slammed his hips into you before cumming with you.

"I should have thought about the cowboy rule with you a long time ago..." He chuckled softly, still feeling the pleasure of you surrounding him.

“I should’ve taken your damn hat a long time ago..” You mirrored with a soft laugh, hissing as a full-body spasm shot up your spine and clenched around him, overstimulated from the recent orgasm that made your brain go hazy. “Mmm... Did you cum inside?”

Ghost looked up at you with a smirk, his teeth slightly bared as he spoke to you. "I might have..." He chuckled softly. He trailed his hand up and down your waist leaning close so the two of you were close together, he whispered in your ear, "I might have..." He repeated himself once more, his voice a murmur which made his breath hot against your ear.

You nodded and leaned against him in a limp-like fashion, exhausted from the work done. Simon let out a small hum of pleasure as you leaned into him. He placed a hand on your cheek and pulled you toward him, your mouths meeting in another kiss. "I needed you.” He mumbled, his lips meeting yours once more in a deep kiss.

Between the sweet and deep kisses, you replied, “Mmm- we should do this often.”

"I like the sound of that..." Simon mumbled against your lips, his breaths hitting against your skin as he kissed you along your jaw. "Whenever you want it," He said to you softly, his fingers beginning to trail down your cheeks, "Just come find me anytime on the ranch.... I'll give you the best ride of your life..." He smirked, still holding onto you but slowly beginning to pull you off him.

You helped him with getting up, raising your hips, and blushing when you felt his cum drip out and down your thighs. Simon’s breath hitched as he saw the essence seep out of you, his gaze slowly drifting down to your body and taking in every inch of it. He smirked, his fingers trailing down your stomach to your thighs. He chuckled, "You're a mess, doll." He pulled up his cowboy jeans and took a deep breath. "You need anything from me right now, Sweetheart?... Some water? A towel for your body?" He spoke to you softly as he looked at you.

You pressed your thighs together to stop the juices from seeping out of your cunt, bending forward to pick up your underwear and shimmy it on. “No I don’t need anything, I am fine thank you.”

Ghost nodded, and with a deep breath, he put on his cowboy hat as he watched you bend down to pick your clothes up off the barn floor. "I'll uh.... just wait outside and give you some time to yourself to clean up" He chuckled softly, looking away as he did so. He stepped outside the barn and leaned up against the side of the building, looking at a few horses as he sighed and closed his eyes.

After a few minutes, you joined him approaching him with a slight limp, and stood next to him, glancing at the scenery. Your appearance was fixed up though any mascara you had on previously was slightly smudged on the corners of the eyes. “That was nice.” you began.

Ghost looked over at you as you stood next to him. He smiled and looked back up at the horses as you spoke. "It was, yeah." He chuckled and turned around to look at you for a moment. "I'm glad you came to see me." He said to you, his tone a bit quieter and more serious than usual. Ghost looked down at the floor for a moment, his expression a bit more pensive than normal. "So... you want to... do that again... sometime?" He sighed and looked down at his boots, his face hidden by the cowboy hat. "No pressure, though. I won’t press for more if you don’t want that.”

You cut him off with a laugh shaking your head. “No, I want more!” You coughed and spoke a bit more calmly and casually. “I mean- I like you and uh.. it would be nice to stay close...”

Ghost met your eyes and smiled, pulling you into a hug. “Sure thing, baby.”

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #mw2 smut #mw2 #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic #cod mw x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #call of duty x reader #ghost call of duty #call of duty mw2 #cod smut #modern warfare smut

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clementine-thedestroyer · 6 months

Text

Kinktober day 19/20: Housewife/domesticity kink + service - John Price x reader

Warnings/tags: Fem!reader, being married and a bit of being a house wife. Mentions of pregnancy at the end. Reader is also slightly a clean freak coded/gets hyper focused on cleaning- because who doesn’t, tbh. Fluff, then smut at the end.

Price’s favorite things about coming back from deployment.

Of course Price looked forward to coming home- seeing his wife after a deployment was what kept him going through the roughest parts of his job. But- in addition to the obvious reason of just missing his wife- Price had a particular fondness for those first nights back.

When he walked in, your eyes would light up- and he’d almost always find himself nearly tackled by your hug. He’d always laugh, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight as he teased you for your enthusiasm.

During that first hug, he wouldn’t let go immediately. He’d press a kiss to the top of your head- keeping his lips against you for a moment longer- just to breathe in the comforting scent of you. He’d keep one of his hands wrapped around your shoulders, and the other one either nestled against the small of your back or dip of your waist. If you were wearing a shirt, he’d slip his hand under the fabric to run his rough, calloused hands over your soft, warm skin.

If it were up to Price, he would keep you wrapped tight in that bear hug the whole night- or at least till he decided it was time for him to scoop you up and take him to the bedroom. He’d only (reluctantly) let you go once you mentioned that dinner was going to burn.

On the nights when Price first got home, you’d always fuss over him. You’d insist that he sits down- bringing him a beer and making sure to take care of him as best you can.

You’d always try and press the TV remote into his hand, telling him to sit back and relax while you finished dinner. But he’d just smile and shake his head- content to watch you hurry around the kitchen and worry your sweet little head off over dinner. It was one of the few times he’d let himself give into your worrying and fussing- he might as well enjoy it.

He’d sit back and light a cigar, eyes following your ass and admiring the way the tie of your apron cinched around your waist. He’d smile at the way you bit your lip and frowned when you pulled dinner out of the oven- adoring how desperate to please you would get on nights like this.

He may even let you work yourself up about it, probably chuckling at the way your brow furrowed when you find a spot you’d missed while doing your regular before-price-gets-back-from-deployment cleaning spree: something he had, to no avail, tried to assure you multiple times was not necessary, and only discovered the existence of upon getting back a few hours early, planning to surprise you, and found you half way inside the oven. You were cleaning it, you said- although Price was a little concerned by the fact that you’d apparently been at it for nearly two hours.

At this point, he realized that there was nothing he could do to stop you, and just found it cute that you’d get yourself so worked up over getting everything perfect for him.

Of course, he wouldn’t let you stay worked up. Especially on nights like this, he was sure to kiss and praise you all he could. And at the end of the night, you’d always find yourself pressed firmly into the mattress underneath your husband. With Price’s fingers laced together with yours as he thrust slow and deep into you, murmuring against your skin about how perfect you were- how you didn’t need to try so hard to please him, not when just your smile brightens his entire day.

As his thrusts would stutter and he neared his release, his voice would go rougher and he’d suck a hickey beneath your ear and behind your jaw bone- making sure to tell you how much he loved you, how lucky he was to have such a sweet little wife. He’d tell you how he was going to fill you up with his cum and give you a couple of his kids, how he was gonna make you a momma so you’d hopefully stop worrying your pretty little head off over keeping the house spotless- “calm ya’ down a bit” as he put it.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

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adaelines · 10 months

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monster!konig w a breeding kink EEE MAKES ME FERAL

i am a slut. a whore. i blacked out in the heat and this was written. please enjoy! warnings: afab but gender neutral reader, monster konig, monster cock, he wants to breed you so bad!! you're reffered to as his mate, hes Big. Bigger than normal.

Keep Still.

Echoed in your mind like a voice whispered in the dark, the large and heavy presence pressing against your back making himself known, demanding your attention. Being mated to an eldritch being was anything but normal, König adored you and made it clear in everything he did, in every little click and purr against your neck.

Pressing you down into the nest he had made for you, he grumbles against your neck, tentacles moving to take a hold of your face. He was so gentle, every touch and caress made with the uttermost love and reverence, it was obvious just how much he loved you. This being, powerful enough to end worlds and destroy men without an inch of effort, was so in love with you, so gentle and loving, and he did his best to prove it to you.

He wanted you forever, wanted you to have his clutch and stay with him, through anything for as long as time itself will exist. It was staggering, and you wouldn't change it for the world, not when the big man you love would do anything to keep you happy.

Stay.

He spoke in your mind, voice low and heavy. He always did this, in your moments together alone, spoke to you directly in your mind instead of using his voice.

It was so intimate, having him this close, having him inside of your mind, quite literally. You always thought of him anyway, your thoughts full of nothing but your love, but having him invade you like this was different.

Not bad, at all, just… new.

The tentacles on your face continued to caress you, to hold you against him and feel across your skin as if he was committing you to memory, like he was worshipping you and admiring you entirely.

Slowly, carefully, one tentacle moved. Down your face, taking in every small detail, before pressing against your lips. His hands came up, moving your hair out of your face, his own head pressing against the back of yours. You could hear him close, all the low growls and purrs straight from his chest, only increasing when he slowly pressed into your mouth.

A kiss between two lovers. Your lips spread wide, eyes fluttering shut, the deep blue, very near black, tentacle pressing deeper. It was comforting, the heavy weight of him against your tongue. He knew you well, knew exactly how much to push you before it became too much, how much you could take before it was uncomfortable.

Pretty little thing.

Lower this time, voice almost distorted. You were already having an effect on him. Already causing him to lose his sharp edge.

You muttered his name in reverence, worshipping the tentacle in your mouth as if it was his cock, treating it the same. One hand moving up to gently hold his, so much bigger than yours, so easily encasing the entirety of yours, as your other moved lower, grabbing his hip the best you could to pull him into you, deeper, closer.

He, in return, buried his face into the back of your neck, his low noises of affection only doubling at your touch, only growing louder at your returned attention.

You could feel him everywhere, all around you, inside your mind. He wrecked you with a simple move of his tentacles, the way he pushed himself to the forefront of your mind.

His cock, however, was the only thing you could truly focus on. Hard against your thigh, he was absolutely massive. In his human form, rarely taken around you, he was always big. But like this? Behind you, pinning you to the nest, in the form that was entirely him, trying to describe just how big he was seemed impossible. It always took a while for him to prepare you, to ready you to take him whole, and he never complained. He felt true pleasure in giving, when it came to you.

"König," Muttered around the tentacle, your hands tightening where they held him. A silent plea, a beg for him to give you more, to touch and take anything he wanted.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, an agreement. He was slow in his movements, hands trailing down your sides, worshipping you in the simple touch. He took his time, admiring, feeling you beneath him. You were naked, as you always were in your shared nest, and you muttered thanks to whatever God there was for it.

No God. Just me.

His hands reached your hips, finally, and you heard the clicks he let out in approval. You were already so wet, almost soaking the material below you, and he could smell it.

"C'mon, König…" You muttered once more, gently pulling away from the tentacle in your mouth, pressing one more kiss to the almost slimy skin at König's low growl, "Need you to breed me already…"

You felt him press his version of a kiss between the back of your shoulder blades, resting his head there as he moved his fingers to your hole.

Wet. Already? Whore.

His grin widened against your skin, and you could feel it, his big, sharp teeth against your soft skin. All he'd have to do is widen his jaw slightly to break skin, it would be so easy for him. His teeth are as inhuman as the rest of him, as terrifyingly different. Not to you, anyway, not anymore. You know him, love him, nothing about him is scary now.

It doesn't change the butterflies you feel in your stomach, though. The sickly twist would normally be unwelcome, with anyone else. Not with König, though, never with König.

The whine that leaves you is loud, as his hands move to hold your thighs apart. The burn as your thighs reach as far apart as they will go feels good. A promise of what's to come, of what he's about to do to you.

Ready, yes?

König, the loving monster he was, had spent most of the day that had already passed simply preparing you. Getting you ready to take as much as your smaller body would handle, as deep as he could go without causing you any pain. He would never want that. He's a smart man, knows when to hit and when to kiss, and right now, with you about to take his seed, his brood, he wants to kiss every inch of you.

With your muttered assurance, kisses pressed to the tentacles beside your face, he purrs against your back once more. You would often compare him to a cat, the way he would completely pin you to the nest with his body, purring against you.

All thought was lost to you when he moved, pressing his face into your skin, pushing his cock inside of you. Slowly, carefully, once more. His cock was larger than a humans, and different. More like his tentacles, a lighter shade of blue, a lot shorter than the rest but so much more thicker. It dripped more, too, the rest of his tentacles were covered in a viscous liquid, most similar to slime, but none of them leaked the way his cock did.

Especially not when inside of you. Your cunt tight and warm around him, he couldn't help himself, couldn't help the amount he spilled inside of you, pressing his teeth lightly against the skin of your back.

Good. Pretty, take it, please, take it.

The voice in your head was no longer confident, loud, no longer put together and self assured. He was whining, almost, a husky edge to his low words. Being inside of you, even for the short moment, was enough to reduce him to this. You reduced the monster of a god, an eldritch being who considered you his mate, to nothing more than man begging to breed you.

Deep inside of you, his cock twitched, squirmed, and pressed against every spot that it could. He wanted to make you feel good, wanted to make you cum over and over on his cock, till you couldn’t think of anything but him inside of you, the both of you wet and loud. Everytime he pressed his hips forward, into you as much as he physically could, the noise that it made was lecherous. You were already wet, the hours of prep made sure of it, added with the liquid from his cock inside of you, every thrust of his hips, no matter how small, made a squelch.

It doesn’t take long for him to cum, having spent so many hours teasing and pleasuring you, it doesn’t take you long either. He reaches his peak with a guttural sound, low and inhumane, his hips pressed flush against yours. It makes his cock reach even deeper, pressing against you in a way that was almost painful, but it was easily enough for you to cum as well.

His cum was thick, vicious inside of you. He never moved from his position behind you, hips flush, not even when the cum spilled out from beside his cock. Letting out low rumbles intended to calm you, to comfort you, you once again hear his voice.

Need it to take. Ready for more, yes?

#konig x reader #konig smut #konig cod #konig #konig x you #cod konig #cod x reader #cod smut #cod #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare smut #call of duty x you

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statusexile · 4 months

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[tw: corruption kink, fisting, squirting, dirty talk]

Ghost is a regular at the coffee shop where you work as a barista. He visits at least five times a week and always orders an Americano. Even with his balaclava on, you can feel his intense gaze on you every time you take his order, sending shivers down your spine. But he has never said anything besides a simple thank you, so it catches you off guard when he finally asks you out on a date.

Your first date with him was perfect. Despite his cold demeanor on the outside, deep down, he was a true gentleman. You feel absolutely comfortable talking to him, even though it was your very first date. When you told him that you had never dated anyone before or had sex, he was surprised — how could someone as beautiful as you never been with anyone before? But instead of judging or pressuring you, Ghost simply smiled and continued to treat you with the utmost respect and care until the date ends. As the two of you continued to go on dates, Ghost finally confesses his love to you.

Ghost may present himself as a gentleman, but you had no idea what he had in store for you. He loves you, but his main intention was to defile your innocence, to twist you into his corrupt and depraved little fuck toy. And Ghost is a patient man; he’s willing to wait for however long it may take for that day to come.

The first time you had sex with him was absolutely sweet and beautiful. He took his time, spending at least an hour prepping you and making sure you were comfortable before finally fucking you with his throbbing cock by making you cum on his mouth and fingers first. You could feel your pussy stretched when he finally fucks you with his monstrous cock, making you sob from the sensation. Ghost peppered you with kisses and praises as he slowly fucks you, reminding you how good you are for him.

But that was a long time ago, as you now find yourself spread open on his couch, legs splayed wide as he thrusts his entire fist into your wet cunt. The sharp pain shoots through you as his knuckle pounds you deep inside while his other hand holds a lit cigarette, casually taking drags as he ruthlessly fists your cervix with forceful thrusts. You are completely under his control, reduced to a writhing mess as he ravages you without mercy, determined to completely destroy your cunt.

“Look at you taking my fist like a champ, love” Ghost’s voice drips with scorn and disgust as he takes another drag of his cigarette, inhaling deeply before exhaling a cloud of smoke while continuing to violently fist fuck your already sore and bruised cunt. You let out a guttural scream that echoes through the walls of his apartment, tears streaming down your face as you feel his knuckle ruts into you. It feels like he’s trying to rip out your organs and leave you gutted like a fish. You can’t help but revel in the feeling of being completely owned by Ghost. And deep down, that’s exactly what you wanted all along.

“Oh, you want to cum, sweetheart? Come on, cum for me, cum on my fucking fist you pathetic little slut,” Ghost growls sadistically as he plunge his fist deeper and faster into your throbbing cunt. Broken sobs escape from your raw throat, but your body responds to his command soon enough as you finally squirt all over his hand, the warm liquid dripping down onto the couch and coating his tatted forearm with your cum.

Your body trembles as he forcefully pulls out his fist from inside your throbbing, stretched-out cunt, leaving it hollow and dripping with the remnants of your juice. He shoves his hand into your mouth. Your tongue greedily laps of your own cum, drinking it like a rabid dog.

Ghost found you first and now you’re his forever to ruin however he pleases. ♡

#shaf brainrots #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #simon ghost riley smut #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty smut #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod mwii #cod headcanons #cod mw2 smut #call of duty modern warfare smut #cod smut #modern warfare smut

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ma1dmer · 5 months

Text

Call of Duty - Phillip Graves NSFW

I need him pregnant,,,,ASAP

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): he needs a second to unwind, pulls you to him and breathes against your skin, lips pressed against the top of your head as he closes his eyes, big on praise in general so even in those moments he's telling you how good you were for or to him, he'll help you clean up in a bit, like the gentleman he can be, but for a moment let him catch his breath

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): like the good ol' american boy he is, he loves tits, small or big, it does not matter, he just loves them, loves a pretty bra with bows ,and straps he can snap back on your skin like a school boy teasing his crush, definitely a lingerie guy, feels like he's unwrapping a present

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): riding off of what I said above, loves a pearl necklace, has you push your tits up prettily for him so he has a good target as he works his cock quickly above you, muttering to himself as he concetrates on how pretty you look beneath him, one hand always on your tits, touching, cupping, pinching

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): this man loves to show you off, loves the attention you get from others and knowing that at the end of the day you are coming back home to him ,he never lets things get too far but he gets such a thrill from watching other men fawn over you, he'll swoop in once he gets bored and firmly redirect the other man away from you while pulling you in for a kiss, if you ask him what took him so long he'll lie about not noticing

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): he always says he is looking for someone to settle down with as a joke, and then turns around and has another no strings attached hookup with some pretty stranger ,he didn't choose the man whore life, it chose him, he has his fair share of experience ,and he truly is too cocky for his own good about it

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): the standard missionary, if it ain't broke don't fix it, he puts a pillow under your hips and holds himself up so he doesn't miss any detail, from his cock disappearing inside you to your body moving with every thrust, easier access to the goods as well, he's just all over you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): he is quite playful when he wants to be, enjoys purposefully riling you up just so he can do the whole act of asking you to forgive him, just tell me how to make it better, he'll ask in fake apology as he kisses your stomach, eyes glinting with mischief knowing he's getting what he wants

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): not particularly hairy, and everything he has is fine and blonde, lets it natural, he also always seems to smell of a very specific brand of soap

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): he loves a good traditional chase, let this man do his thing, flirt with you, try to woo you, take you out in his car, open doors, likes if you play a bit hard to get for him, even if you've been dating for years, just so he can promise you the moon and the stars as he slides his hand up your thigh, it's not easy to be casual with him when he acts like that

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): he enjoys taking his time when he is by himself ,one of the reasons he'd bother upgrading his phone to something a bit better, a bit more modern, with a better camera feature, is purely for those lonely nights when he has the free time to sit back for a bit, but can't leave base yet, he'll shoot you a text, and have his pants off as he waits for you to reply

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): edging, dirty talk, praise/degradation etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): in the heat of it he always suggests you two take it somewhere more public, his office, in front of his shadows ,maybe a bar, asking you to paint an image for him, telling you how pretty you are and how much he wishes others could see you like this, would you stop him if he tried to do something outside of your bedroom? ,how naughty and loud you are ,how you definitely want to be seen and heard by others, but at the end of the day he doesn't actually do anything, he knows the risks

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): he loves dirty talk, especially when you do it, he enjoys when you know and tell him what you want, will be grinning cockily as he listens to you, encouraging you to add more details, helping you add to whatever filthy fantasy you confess to him

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): I don't see him venturing to the more extreme side of anything ,he knows his limits and as willing as he is to entertain your whims he likes things a bit more vanilla personally

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): this man loves to give head, eats it loudly, non stop talking as he pleasures you, it's sloppy and he isn't very focused, you'll have to beg for him to take it seriously, but oh boy when he does, he buries his whole face between your legs

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): he alternates, will start off faster for you mostly and then slows down the closer he gets to his orgasm, holding you close as he methodically chases his own pleasure

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): loves the idea of them but he never truly commits, there is always some excuse he has about why he can't at that specific moment

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): he'll try toys, he'll try impact play, he'll try the occasional sub/dom dynamic, he'll pull rank, he'll role play , he'll try switching, he enjoys all of it honestly, but only occasionally ,and never taken too far

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): one long round with plenty of foreplay and messing around

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): doesn't feel strong either way about them, he prefers things a bit more traditionally but won't say no to spicing up things every now and then if you ask him nicely

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he is a tease, through and through, but he doesn't hold his ground that well, feed into his ego, beg a bit and he always relents, you have to play into his game

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): he is not loud, but he isn't quiet either, he just doesn't shut up, he talks a lot under his breath, he praises you in that soft southern drawl of his and encourages you with a chain of little yes' and deep moans, he isnt hiding the fact he's enjoying himself

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): has a big oral fixation, he loves using his mouth, put your hands anywhere near his face and he's gonna turn to kiss your palm, your wrist ,or in the heat of the moment pull your fingers in his mouth

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): average size, with a slight tilt to the side, surprisingly pretty and much paler than the rest of him

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): he can often get lost in his head with all the work he has, and as along as he's kept busy he doesn't quite think of anything else but his missions and his orders ,but once he sits down, once he gets a chance to take a breath ,then he realises how much he truly misses you and how much he'd rather be spending his time with you

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): once you guys start pillow talking he closes his eyes and insists he's listening, you might think he's not but if you try to move away or stop talking, he grumbles for you to keep going, he is a very light sleeper

537 notes · View notes

inkbybambi · 4 months

Text

bar owner!john price kisses you under the mistletoe —

words: 4.9k rating: e warnings: fem!reader, praise kink/praises, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, multiple orgasms, pet names, biting/marking, finger sucking, size kink, john steals your panties, please let me know if i missed anything. this has been edited to the best of my ability. notes: this is my contribution to @bunnyreaper's call of duty secret santa exchange and is dedicated to @a-very-bored-blogger ♡ my blog and all my works are 18+ so minors dni. proper warnings have been provided.

being the boss’s favorite has its perks.

you’re the first to try new spirits and brews he orders for the bar. he doesn’t bother trying to hide his snort of amusement each time your face scrunches up when something tastes particularly awful.

you try to hide your blush when he delicately takes the glass from your hand, fingers briefly touching, throwing back the rest of the drink without flinching.

smug bastard always winks after.

you’re the only one allowed to lounge in his office on your lunch, even when he’s not there. you ignored the pointed looks from the others when he first gave you the key. it dangles on a pink, heart-shaped carabiner. there’s a drawer of snacks and a mini-fridge that’s always stocked for you. a pile of your books are stacked on his desk with his other papers, most of them he gifted himself.

you never see the way his cheeks go pink every time you read one of the books he chose.

you’re the only one allowed to take the beanie off his head. sometimes he puts it there himself. soap tried it once and never again after his hand got thwacked with a wet dish rag.

your favorite perk?

the way he lingers when you’re the one closing, always nearby as you wipe down the counters and dry the glasses. the gentle press of his palm at the small of your back when he maneuvers around you; when he hands you something you’ve asked for and his eyes glitter when you say thank you; the soft touch at the nape of your neck when you’re finally done and tucking the rag away, gently guiding you to the door.

sometimes he walks you home. sometimes he drives you. you’ve begun to look forward to it now.

lately — more often than not — you find yourself hiked up on the counter, john standing between your legs, radiating heat like a furnace, his big hands cupping your face as his tongue slides deep into your mouth, tasting you and swallowing your soft whines.

he always tastes like cigars, which you complained about at first, but now you couldn’t care about when his fingers thread though your hair, tipping your head to the side so he can slide his mouth along the line of your throat, beard scratching your skin.

he’s careful to not leave any marks. but each time his teeth skim the column of your throat, he presses sharper, harder.

you want him to bite you.

everyone assumes you two are fucking anyway.

he said he’d walk you home.

twenty minutes ago.

he pulls away, leaving you breathless, pressing his nose against your cheek. you close your eyes and lean into him, lightly scratching at the base of his skull.

“should get you home,” he rumbles low in his chest, voice like gravel. it makes you ache.

you can’t say much apart from a small hum of agreement, not wanting to leave the warmth of his body.

he doesn’t make any effort to pull away either.

his lips drag from your cheek to your jaw, nipping at the hinge before soothing it with his tongue. you shudder on an inhale, waiting for what’s next.

“let me get your bag,” he murmurs, voice still soft as if he doesn’t want to shatter the calm that’s settled over you two, like a veil of gossamer protecting you from the outside world.

with one last, slow kiss, he leaves to gather your bags, slipping his beanie on your head and walking you out.

he clicks the lights off.

no matter how many times or how often you find yourself wrapped in winter’s cold embrace of snow and icy wind, you hate it.

you like it from the inside. with a warm drink of whatever — sometimes spiked, if you’re feeling cheeky — and blessedly not outside.

this is your first christmas with the bar — with the boys — and john invited you to help decorate for the season.

this is your first time feeling like you belong somewhere. the boys have been together for years now, as you’ve learned over your time with them, but they took you in and made you feel welcome from the very start.

you, however, felt awkward the first couple shifts, as to be expected. one night, about a week settling into the job, you stood up to a particularly rowdy client — gaz and soap minding the bar with you, exchanging glances with each other and keeping an eye on the situation; simon and john lingering around the billiard tables with some regulars, also with an eagle eye on you. you didn’t back down to his crass attitude and sharp words, damn near throwing the lime you were cutting at his face. a tense moment or so passed before he submitted, mumbling an apology and throwing a twenty pound note on the bar along with the rest of his tab, slinking to a seat in the back.

closing the bar a few hours later, soap handed you a shot of something gross with a proud smirk on his face, gaz excitedly talking with you, relaying the moment with vigor, his eyes sparkling with amusement as if you were some sort of superhero. simon, far more subdued than the others and wearing his skull-painted balaclava, simply gives you a nod of approval as he raises a glass to you.

that was the first night john kissed you.

you’ve felt at home ever since.

snow flurries cling to your lashes as you trudge through layers of snow, scarf wrapped up around your nose and john’s beanie pulled down as much as possible.

you tried to return it last night before he left, but he insisted on you keeping it. you’re grateful for that now, stuffing your hands as deep into your pockets as possible, hating the way the wind bites so fiercely, it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all — bones and blood turning to ice.

ten excruciatingly cold minutes later, you stumble into the bar, shaking yourself off like a wet dog and stomping your boots to dislodge the snow clinging to the sole. some of it buried into the back of your boot while walking, and you try not to make a face when your socks feel damp.

“there she is!” comes soap’s cheerful call, standing behind the bar with a cardboard box in front of him.

you unravel yourself from the scarf and dust off the beanie from the last of the snow, wiggling your fingers as you make your way over so you can start feeling them again. john turns to look at you with a warm smile, and you flush under his attention. simon accepts a glass from gaz, tipping it towards him in thanks. gaz passes glasses to john and soap next, finally setting one down at the seat next to john — intended for you, as he gives you a knowing smirk, which you pointedly ignore with a roll of your eyes — and sipping from his own as he settles next to soap.

“what’s this?” you ask, taking a sip.

“that’s a gin and tonic, love,” gaz replies easily, and you give him an unamused look.

“i meant the box,” you clarify, as soap chuckles and uses a box cutter to open it, taking out a sheet of paper and reading over it with a soft smile on his lips.

“this,” he says, pulling a knit sweater from the box and checking the sticky note on the front, handing it to john, “is tradition.”

you take a healthy sip — gaz uses a heavy hand —and watch as he continues to pull the sweaters from the box, handing one to simon and then gaz. he takes another from the box, resting it in front of him.

“ma nana, bless her, makes us christmas jumpers,” he says with a fond smile. you watch as gaz eagerly strips his current sweater to put the new one on.

your heart aches, but the corner of your lips quirk up as you watch even simon pull his on.

he reaches into the box again, one last sweater being handed to you. “ah told her ‘bout you,” he begins as you take it from him, unraveling it and feeling the sting of tears line your eyes. “she says welcome to the family.”

you blink at him with teary eyes and he coos at you, leaning over the counter to squish your cheeks affectionately.

“go on then, hen,” he says as he releases you, nodding towards the jumper. you eagerly strip out of your jacket, taking the beanie off and settling it on the counter before pulling the sweater over your head.

it fits like a dream.

“don’t ask,” soap says with a wink, taking a sip and turning away so you wouldn’t even have the chance to ask.

you look over to john, blue eyes dark as he takes you in, something unreadable in his expression. his eyes flick to yours, gaze softening as he gives you one of his signature smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners so you know it’s real, reaching out to ruffle your hair before standing from his seat.

“right then,” he says, “let’s get to work.”

after the garland has been hung, mistletoe put over every possible doorway thanks to soap, fake poinsettias and other decorations spread all throughout the bar, you deem it to be ready for the holiday.

or as ready as it can be, but you’ll take what you can.

the boys turn one of the tvs on to watch the premier league game, lounging in their new, festive jumpers and drinks on the table. you take the moment to slip away to the back office where john is, having retreated there himself a half-hour earlier.

the door is slightly ajar, but you knock lightly before pushing it open a little more.

john sits at his desk, sweater pushed up his forearms and stretching across his broad chest. you swallow a pathetic whimper, turning to close the door. you didn’t lock it — fingers crossed the game keeps the boys occupied enough to not worry about you.

john watches you with those same dark eyes — arousal dampening your panties — as you make your way over to him. he pushes his chair back enough for you to climb into his lap, settling yourself comfortably over his thick thighs. your fingers card affectionately through his mutton chops, and he lets out a pleased hum, closing his eyes.

“i got you a gift,” you confess in a whisper, shy and uncertain.

his eyes flick open, clearly intrigued, but doesn’t prompt you any further. he rests his hands on your hips, dipping under the hem of the sweater to grasp your waist, thumbs rubbing affectionately over your skin, pulling you closer.

“did you now?” he asks, clearly amused, hands drifting higher. you let out an indignant squeak, swatting his chest.

“it’s not me!” you say, though the idea certainly isn’t a bad one.

“pity,” he muses, chuckling, before his hands come back to respectfully settle on your waist. “what is it, then?”

you chew the inside of your cheek, suddenly worrying that it’s too much, or that it’s not enough, or he won’t like it or —

“love?” he prompts you, as if he could sense the way you’re spiraling into your own mind.

you balance yourself up on your knees — which doesn’t help your claim that you’re not the gift — pulling out a slightly crumpled, white envelope from your back pocket. you press it against his chest, unable to meet his eyes. his hand — warm and broad and comforting — comes up to rest over yours for a moment before he takes the envelope, opening it with a raised eyebrow.

he looks over the tickets that rest inside, before he looks back to you, taken off guard.

“merry christmas,” you whisper, even though the holiday is weeks away. he surges up to kiss you, tickets pressed to your cheek as he licks into your mouth, a surprised noise rising in your throat.

resting your hands on his shoulders, you sink into the kiss, slipping deeper into his lap as his tongue presses against yours, the familiar warmth settling over you.

“how did you..?” he asks, breathless, moving to press kisses over your cheeks and jaw, and you giggle and push him away, his beard tickling your skin.

“i used this thing called money,” you tease, scratching at his beard as he rolls his eyes, “which my lovely boss gives me every two weeks.”

“cheeky,” he laughs, returning the tickets to the envelope and placing it on the desk. “you’ll go with me, yeah?”

not that he has to ask, but it’s still a sweet gesture.

two tickets to a newcastle game are tucked into the envelope, set for some time in the new year. you can’t think of a better way for it to begin.

you know john has a jersey— he wears it on game day. you always appreciate the way you’re able to unashamedly stare at his forearms, corded muscle working as he pours drinks and cleans the counter top. he’s unfairly attractive in it.

he grasps one of your wrists lightly, breaking you from your reverie, turning it enough to drag his lips across your palm.

you fall quiet as you watch him, kissing each of your fingertips, and then pressing your palm against his cheek, looking up at you with reverence, like you were something to worship, to spread out and show his devotion to you.

“you know soap put mistletoe above my door before you came in,” he murmurs and you raise an eyebrow.

“did he?”

he hums low in his throat, hands going underneath your jumper once more. you bite your lip as they graze up and down your sides, inching higher and higher.

“well i’m not one to break tradition,” you reply, leaning in close to press your lips against his.

you happily sit in his lap as you indulge in his kisses, languid and deep, so content you could almost purr.

“i have a gift for you too,” he says against your lips, biting at it lightly before kissing the corner of your mouth. you make an interested noise, not wanting to pull away from his mouth, from him. he chuckles as he gives in to kiss you once more, hands beginning to ruck up your jumper.

he rocks his hips up against yours, and you whine almost pathetically into his mouth, pawing at his shoulders.

“it’s not this,” he says, clearly amused, but pushes you away enough to bring your jumper up over your head, leaving you in one of your nicer, lacy bras — if you wore it specifically for him, you’ll never tell.

he’s kind enough to fold it over and place it on his desk before turning his attention back to you.

“god, look at you,” he marvels, leaning in to press his lips to your collar, down to the valley between your breasts.

you flush under his attention, one hand braced on the middle of your back, his other dragging the fabric of your bra down, laving his tongue over your nipple, biting it gently to a firm peak and sealing his lips over it.

“fuck,” you exhale shakily, gripping the nape of his neck, feeling the way he hardens under your touch, arousal slicking your panties, sticky and wet where you’re pressed against him.

he deftly unhooks your bra, dragging the straps down until it pools in your lap. he immediately moves to mouth over your other nipple, thumb brushing over the hardened nub that’s already shining with his spit.

he stands suddenly, bra falling forgotten to the floor as he settles you onto his desk, licking deeper into your mouth as you move to undo his belt, feeling almost frantic with the need to feel him.

“you’re so gorgeous, darling,” he says against your lips, his own hands unbuttoning your jeans. you manage to pull his belt loose, pushing his jeans and boxers down enough to feel the coarse hair at the base of his cock before he stops you.

“wait a second, love,” he’s gentle as he grasps your wrists. “wanna get yours off first,” he adds.

you pout — just a little — but acquiesce to his request, tilting your hips enough for him to pull your jeans and underwear down to your ankles.

“ah. fuck,” he sighs, exasperated, before he kneels down — a little awkwardly, with the state of his own bottoms — to unlace your boots to drop them to the floor, your panties and jeans following soon after.

“there,” he sighs as he grasps your face for a kiss, and you hum happily against his mouth, gripping him for stability.

“are you sure this isn’t my gift?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your voice, as he drags his mouth to your cheek and then to nip the lobe of your ear.

he laughs, and it goes right to your core, molten heat trickling down your spine, leaking from your pussy to the desk underneath.

“i promise,” he says, voice low, pressing a tantalizing kiss to the soft, sensitive skin behind your ear.

when you open your mouth to reply, he rests two fingers on your bottom lip, almost touching the tip of your tongue.

he’s asking permission, you realize, so you take his wrist to draw his fingers further into your mouth, closing your lips around his thick fingers, tongue slipping between them and sucking them deeper.

“that’s a good girl,” he praises, a deep honey drawl that makes you weak. you swallow back a whine. he presses his fingers down against your tongue, and you blink up at him through glassy doe eyes, still grasping his wrist lightly.

you whimper, when he’s too enchanted with the sight of his fingers deep in your mouth, arousal coating your thighs. glazed eyes turn to you, a hum of approval reverberating in his throat. he slowly withdraws them, your lips glossy with spit.

his fingers drift down to your cunt, already soaking with need, dragging them lazily through your folds to mix your own spit into the mix. he leans down to kiss you, and you rest your hand on his cheek to keep him close.

“so wet for me already, darling,” he marvels as he continues to gather your slick on his fingers, moving up to press gently against your clit, rubbing it in slow, soft circles. “think you can take both?” he glides his fingers over your entrance, feeling the way your walls flutter in anticipation.

you nod eagerly and he leans close to kiss you, licking into the heat of your mouth; at the same time, he sinks both fingers into you, far more gentle that you expected. the stretch catches you off guard, gasping against his lips. he pulls back, a hair’s breadth apart, merely breathing you in as your walls clench around him, trying to get used to the feeling of him filling you full.

“too much?” he murmurs.

“just,” with a shake of your head, you breathe in, moving to grip his neck, nails sinking into his skin. you want to leave your own marks on him. “been awhile,” you admit on the exhale, drawing him back in to kiss, relaxing into his touch while he happily gives into you.

your mouth drags from his, to the corner of his lips, over to his cheek, right where the line of his beard starts to tickle your skin. he's kind, and patient, and so, so good to you.

“good?” he asks when you rock your hips into his touch, but he doesn’t start moving his fingers until you actually say yes, pressing the word to his cheek like a promise.

he’s surprisingly delicate with his touch, as he is with everything else when it comes to you, but the filthy sound of your slick and spit fills the air along your quiet noises, choking down your whines and mewls.

soap would be insufferable if he found out about this.

“i know it feels good, love,” he says against your lips, his own curled into a smirk — cocky bastard — “you have to keep quiet for me though, yeah?”

but then his fingers curl and graze the spot inside you that leaves you trembling, head tipping back as your nails dig deeper into the nape of his neck. he continues to rock his fingers against that spot, deadly precision as he takes the opportunity to bite and suck marks onto the column of your throat, the sting of his teeth making you feel delirious with pleasure.

“fuck, john,” you whine as you draw him close enough to hide your face into the collar of his sweater, the scent of cigars and sex making your head spin, thoughts turning to static. “‘m gonna cum,” you pant against his collar, trying so desperately to keep yourself quiet.

it’s not going particularly well.

another few pumps of his fingers, your clit under his thumb, and white hot pleasure pools down your spine. you muffle your moan against him as your legs shake and cum spills over his fingers. he works you through it, soft praises whispered against the crown of your head.

you’re pliant in his arms, all the tension seeping from your body as he slowly withdraws his fingers. your grab for his wrist, eyes bleary and glossy, feeling the weight of his gaze as you draw his fingers into your mouth, licking your release from him.

“fuckin’ hell, love,” he grasps your face, tongue pressing into your mouth, “gonna be the death of me.”

he finally allows you to push his bottoms down enough to free his cock, hard and heavy against his stomach, pre-cum already dripping from the tip. you go to reach for him, eager to touch him just as he touched you, but he captures your wrist and moves to tip you back against the desk.

you grip the hem of his jumper, something of a pout gracing your lips as you blink up at him, desperate to feel his skin against yours. he takes his own off with far less grace than he did your own, but still has enough sense to try and fold it and place it over yours.

it is a gift, after all.

“better?” he asks, a chuckle rising as you immediately move to trace over the planes of his chest, nails scratching through the dark hair that litters his body. faint red marks are left in the wake of your touch, all the way down to his hips, a thatch of hair in a line leading down to his length.

“much,” is your reply as you drag him close to you, nose buried in his throat to smell cigar smoke and sandalwood, the comfort and musk making you keen, impatient for his touch, his kiss, his cock.

he braces one hand by your hip, caging you against him, and you tilt up enough to lace your legs around his waist, wanting to bury yourself into his veins, wanting to be as close as possible. he takes himself in his other hand, dragging it through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit.

you whine at him.

he gives you a soft kiss before moving to kiss your collar, watching as his cock sinks into you — just the tip. he keeps his hold on himself, dragging himself in and out, feeling the way your cunt tries so desperately to draw him deeper. the wet heat makes his breath stutter, tests his patience so he doesn’t sheath himself completely in one sharp thrust, wanting to do this — needing to do this — properly, even if you are fucking in his office instead of his bed.

“john,” you damn near sob against his temple, lacing one arm around his shoulders, unashamed with how desperate you are to feel all of him.

he accidentally slips from your heat, and guides himself back, notching the fat head at your entrance, already shiny with your desire. he pushes in slowly, and you gasp and grab at him, head tipping back as your eyes close, never having felt so full before.

“f-fuck,” you whine, having enough sense to bring your gaze back to watch as he sheathes himself completely inside you, your clit pressing against the dark hairs at the base of his dick.

“such a good girl for me.” his teeth latch on to the side of your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark, keeping himself still until you mewl out a soft move, please.

he captures your mouth with his own when he starts thrusting in earnest, swallowing each moan and cry that rises from your throat, wishing the desk wouldn’t squeak so fucking loud, the schlick of his cock pumping in and out of your soaked pussy making it impossible to focus on anything else.

he lays you down against the desk, hooking your legs under his arms to press them up by your side, allowing him to push even deeper, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, each a little more brutal than the last. your nails thread through his hair, the strands damp with his sweat, and you bring them down to his shoulders, his arms, digging in sharp to continue leaving your marks all over him.

“careful now, pet,” he taunts, right in your ear, a shiver going down your spine right to your pussy, clenching tighter around him in response. “only mark me if you’re gonna keep me.”

you’re breathless as you respond, the pleasure pooling in your gut and spreading throughout like liquid fire — unable to think of anything but him, and the way he touches you, and the way his teeth sink into your neck until you squeal with the sharp, biting pain that he soothes with his tongue.

“i will, i will,” you say, nails digging in deeper — a show of devotion, of loyalty. “i promise.”

“my darling girl.” the praise, the possession — it burns you from the inside out.

“please, please, please,” you beg, so close to the precipice of your second orgasm, pleasure like venom lining your blood.

“taking my cock so well, love, fuckin’ made for me.” his voice is low, almost a growl, your cum making a thick ring of cream wet the base of him. “you need to cum so badly, don’t you?”

past the point of being able to form words, you cry and nod, tears spilling down your cheeks, overwhelmed, hands moving down to hold him by his waist, too weak to do anything more than lay there and take anything john gives you.

“cum on my cock, darling, i want to feel it.” you’d never think he’d have such a filthy mouth, but it’s just enough to snap the coil of pleasure that’s been building. you arch up into him, his name on your lips, unable to hold back any longer as you shake with the force of it.

he buries himself to the hilt inside you, feeling the pulses of his cock as thick streams of his cum paint your insides, filling you full. he pants out a jesus christ, pressing his weight down on you, his spend starting to leak from where he’s still buried deep inside you.

you lay there, comforted by his weight and warmth, the scent of sex and sweat mixing with the ever-present smell of cigar smoke that’s practically embedded into john’s skin.

after a few minutes of laying there, john presses soft kisses to the column of your throat — over the marks, his marks, that litter your skin — he pulls out of you slowly. you whine at the loss of him, feeling so empty now without him inside you, burrowed close to your heart. his cum drips from your cunt, gathering on the table below.

“let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, pulling his own bottoms up and slipping back into his jumper, walking around the side of the desk — dropping a kiss to your temple — and leaves, coming back only moments later with a washcloth. he wipes you down so gently, a second one dragging over your skin in light strokes to dry you off.

he helps sit you up, gripping your waist and steadying you before gathering your panties and bottoms. he pauses for a moment, eyes flickering to yours before a smirk paints his lips, tucking your panties into his back pocket and helping you into your jeans. as he gathers something from one of his desk drawers, you wrangle yourself back into your own jumper.

“so,” he begins, settling back into his chair and patting his lap, which you crawl into eagerly, as your sense of stability and balance have yet to return, pressing yourself close, “close your eyes.”

you give him a look, though his face gives nothing away. you close your eyes, hearing what sounds like a hinge opening and the sharp snap of a case. his hands go around your throat next, but he doesn’t touch you. he’s quiet for a moment, but then settles his touch back to your waist.

“alright, darling, open up.”

you immediately bring your hand to your throat, feeling the delicate chain that’s now laying there. you gently bring it up, looking over the charm in your fingers, before your breath catches in your throat.

he smiles at you like you’re the sun, and you cup his cheeks, leaning in close to press multiple kisses to his mouth, sniffling a little while he coos at your reaction.

“you’re my favorite christmas present.”

soap is, indeed, insufferable about it when you finally emerge from the back office. he gives you a shit-eating grin, musing out loud that he should hang mistletoe off john’s belt next.

#ink by bambi #secret santa #john price x reader #john price x you #john price au #john price imagine #john price smut #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare smut #modern warfare au

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blooodsuckkr · 7 months

Text

can't run forever

summary: Ghost chases you through the forest. that's it.

tags: Smut, dom!ghost, use of pet names; love, darling, bunny. outdoors sex, unprotected sex, reader gets spanked like once, gn!reader. (i think that's everything!)

word count: 1.3k (it felt like sm more)

a.n: i felt so giddy writing this, this is only partially proofread

Your lungs burned and your legs ached, threatening to collapse under you at any given moment. yet the adrenaline kept you going. He was hot on your trail, the sound of his footsteps hitting the floor behind you was a taunt, a reminder of his speed and power.

he was trained for this, made for it even.

but so were you.

every second filled you with more determination, his earlier words serving as a motivation, for what? you weren't quite sure.

"you run... and if i catch you? well, you'll just have to find out, love."

You knew by his voice, by the whole situation what being caught would entail. The anticipation rested heavy in your stomach. Part of you wanted to get caught. The other part? Desperate to make him work for it.

or maybe just to prove you were better.

It's no secret you both had a competitive streak, silent, yet very much there. During training there was always a tension, who could get more shots? who could go the longest with out tapping out?

Silly little competitions that served as a motivation. fuelling the determination that ran through both of you. That's why you refused to let him win so easily now.

Yet you both knew he would win in the end. There wasn't a single doubt about it, his voice rang past the trees, you weren't able to determine an exact direction due to your constant running. somewhere south-west of you, you presume.

"c'mon darling. we both know you can't run forever." His voice trailed into a chuckle at the end. He was right, you knew it wouldn't be long now from the way your legs shook on each long stride.

each rustle of leaves and snapped twig under your feet always letting him know your location. Earlier it was the same for him, except now you were the only one making sound.

That was more intimidating than the heavy footsteps you swore you could hear just moments ago.

"shit-" You gasp, trying to turn your head to glance behind you, your eyes darting everywhere for even a sign of his whereabouts.

big mistake.

See, if you had just kept looking forward.. you would have seen him slip behind that tree. you would have been able to change directions and bolt away from him. You just had to look away, didn't you?

Just as you assume you've made some distance you feel the unmistakable sensation of his arm wrapping around the front of you, pulling you into his chest and flipping you both so your front is pressed against the tree.

He chuckles darkly, it's over. Theres no way to escape him as he presses up further behind you. Your squirming and desperate attempts to get away only making him push you harder into the rough surface of the tree.

"awe, my little bunny got caught?" He laughs again, the sound of him panting directly next to your ear. You're panting too, much more than he is. A reminder of his stamina, he could have kept going for hours if he needed. You on the other hand were basically at your limit.

"Ghost-" You try to speak but he shushes you, a hand in between your shoulder blades pushing your chest and face further, leaving you minimal room for movement.

"told ya'. You can't run forever, darling." He clicks his tongue, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. one of his feet push in between your legs, widening your stance.

With one hand still holding you firmly in place by the back of your neck, his other lifts his mask above his nose. Then it runs down your side to your hip, grabbing at the flesh firmly and tugging your hips back onto his erection. A groan reverberating in the back of his throat.

"now look what you've got yourself into..." He teases, his voice hoarse and filled with desire. His head dipping to nip at the skin of your neck, earning a whimper from you.

You can feel him smirk against your skin, he can practically smell your desperation, you push your hips back into him only to be met with a sharp slap to your ass.

"That's not how this works, bunny." He practically growls, his hand snaking round to your lower stomach, pressing down momentarily before dipping beneath your waistband.

"Look at you, makin' a mess already. v'not even touched you" He bites down on your neck, his hand working you up expertly, making you writhe and moan as he's done so many times before.

He works you up to the edge just to pull his hand away when you begin pleading, your hips buck for the friction that was so cruelly taken from you.

"not yet, love."

"not until i've had my fun"

He pushes your trousers down, leaving you bare to the cold air surrounding you. The sound of his belt and zipper seem to echo, the hand on the back of your neck pulling your head back.

He brings his other hand in front of your face, "Spit." His tone sends a shiver down your spine as you comply. Letting him use your saliva to lube his cock. His hand pushing your chest back into the tree,

you instinctively push your hips back, always so ready and eager for him. He fills you up in one sharp thrust, his grunt drowning out your moan.

He sets a ruthless pace, bullying his cock into your hole over and over, even as your legs shake and begin to buckle, his arm wraps around your stomach, holding you up at the angle he knows drives you both wild.

As you clench around him and your moans grow louder he chuckles again, shaking his head as he stops thrusting all together. snatching your release away from you again

you whine his name, he growls yours back.

"Not yet." His voice is low, filled with a dominance that always has you whimpering in response to.

"you don't cum until i tell you, got it?" He punctuates his words with a deep thrust, making you nod desperately. He hums approvingly. returning to his rough pace, the tip of his cock hitting the right spot repetitively, making your head spin.

His hand moves from your stomach down to your sex, providing you with more stimulation that has you begging for him to go easy, knowing you can hold back your orgasm much longer.

He only growls in return, biting down on your shoulder as a warning. The way he's fucking you could be described as purely self-serving. but his hand working you up proves otherwise.

as he chases his own climax he still gives you no permission for your own, but you just can't hold on any longer.

You whimper out his name as you cum, clenching down on him as your body tenses. He doesn't take much longer after that, pushing his cock as deep inside you as he can, filling you up.

You're both still panting heavily, his hand easing up on the back of your neck. He takes a minute to pull out of you, using his fingers to push his spend back inside of you.

He lifts his fingers to your mouth, which you welcome happily, licking the mix of your juices off with a moan.

He takes care pulling your trousers back up, the gently actions almost making him seem like a completely different person to just moments ago.

he spins you around, crashing his lips to yours for the first time since you started running. Biting your bottom lip as he pulls away.

"Don't think you're getting away with disobeying orders. I'll teach you your lesson later"

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