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biggestxsimps · 9 months

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Last Embrace

A/N: I am so sorry for not posting the last couple of months, I've had the worst bloody writers block. I know how much y'all like the Ghost fics so I hope you guys enjoy this! This one's a bit sad, even though angst isn't my strong suit, I really liked writing this and I think it turned out okay.

Just a disclaimer, I know nothing about the military and even less about dying so just let me know of any inaccuracies and I'll fix em.

WARNINGS: blood, mentions of guns and bullet wounds, normal war shenanigans, death (Let me know if I'm missing anything.)

During a mission, everything took a turn for the worse. Ghost urgently gave the order for everyone to evacuate, swiftly conducting a head count, only to realize that Y/N was missing. Filled with concern, he called out for him over the radio. "C/S? C/S, how copy?" Ghost's grip tightened on the radio at the lack of a response. "C/S?! Y/N, what's your position?"

Worry builds deep in Ghost's stomach, an almost nausea-like feeling coursing through him as he speaks through the radio once more. "Y/N. Y/N! I need your location!"

Y/N groans as he hears a loud ringing in his ears, one that fills his mind and brings an ache to his head. His eyes remain shut as he tries to ground himself, though the sound of a familiar voice in his left ear makes his lids slowly blink open.

Though his vision is blurry and everything feels fuzzy, Y/N places a hand on his shoulder and clicks the button on the radio. "Ghost? That you?" Y/N's strained and weak voice makes Ghost sigh in relief. "Ah fuck. Thank god, Y/N." Ghost's voice calms down as he speaks again, his voice stern as he tries to get an answer out of the other man.

"Where are you, Y/N?"

Y/N groans as he tries to look around, his vision still blurred enough to not be able to see anything in detail, he had little to no memory of what he'd been doing before, and the visible bright white walls and floor made him want to close his eyes again. Y/N speaks up once more, his voice holding a slight amusement. "Don't know.. I can't see properly. I'm inside a building, though."

Ghost seems to feel slightly more at ease once he hears Y/N speak, he was glad the man was okay enough to be able to smile through his pain. "Can you see anything? Anything at all?" Ghost looks around at the buildings in the area, Y/N could be anywhere.

"White walls and floors.. I can't make out anything else, though... That help at all?"

Y/N lets his body press against the cold wall behind him, relishing in the relaxing chill shooting through his body. He starts to take a few deep breaths as he tries to keep himself stable, slowly looking around the bare walls, the paint cracked and peeling. His vision gets torn away though, the bright lights starting to flicker, the hall flashing from eerily dark to painfully bright.

An annoying buzz was audible as the light stopped blinking, remaining on. Y/N could see debris on the ground, he wasn't surprised, this was a warzone after all. Y/N slowly closes his eyes, letting himself relax.

Though the feeling of a sharp pain makes his eyes shoot open, a pained noise escapes the man as he looks down at his body. His eyes widened as his gaze trailed down; the only thing he could make out was blood–blood covering his abdomen, blood covering his hands, and blood covering the floor.

Shit.

"Yeah, that helps, Y/N. I'll be there soon, you stay there, alright?" Ghost's voice was gentle, like he was trying to keep the man at ease. But Y/N wasn't listening, his eyes were too focused on the bloody mess in front of him. Y/N's throat starts to close up, the intense smell of the blood making him feel sick.

He brings his hands to the wound, pulling his warm, sticky, blood-soaked shirt up as he tries his best to judge the severity of it. His heart drops as he sees multiple bullet holes piercing his skin, cringing at the amount of blood still escaping him. He was hit with a sudden realization.

"Y/N, you still with me? I'm not far, just stay alive f'me, okay?"

"Ghost.. I don't think I'm gonna make it.."

Ghost's body fills with dread, his heart aching at the sound of Y/N's discouraged and afraid voice. Ghost shakes his head, trying to sprint even faster, his breathing ragged as he speaks through the radio. "Shut it. You're gonna be alright. I'm gonna make it to you, and then we're gonna get you out of here. Alive."

Ghost tries to keep his tone confident, but the shake in his voice shows just how worried he was. He knew that he had to make it there quickly if he wanted the best chance at saving Y/N. His words were rushed as he repeated himself, wanting to hear that Y/N believed him. "Do I make myself clear? I'm getting you out of here alive."

Y/N can't help but slowly shake his head to himself, he could see his wound, he could see how quickly he was losing blood, he could feel the way his body was slowly going numb. His breaths escape him at an uneven pace, his heart racing as he comes to terms with the situation. "Ghost.. I'm losing too much blood. I can't.."

"Yes, yes, you can. You will survive Y/N, I know you will. You have to.."

Ghost ran, ran like he's never done before. He couldn't lose Y/N, not now, not like this. The building was in sight, he was so close to being with Y/N, being able to help him, save him. Ghost could feel the burn in his legs and his lungs and the hard thumping of his pulsing heart. The dry feeling in his throat makes him want to take a breath, but he doesn't stop running, not for a second.

As Ghost ran into the building, Y/N could hear him, his loud footsteps echoing against the bare halls. "I'm here, can you tell me exactly where you are?" Y/N could hear Ghost's urgent yet puffed out voice from both the radio and from the right side of the building, the sound not too far away.

"I can hear you, Ghost.. You're to my right." Y/N's voice was the opposite of Ghost's, he tried to keep his voice as calm as he could, and the strain already being put on his body by the wound, made it impossible to speak any louder without putting himself in even more pain.

"Okay, just.. Just stay there. I'm nearly there, you're gonna be okay."

Y/N's eyes drift to the right side of the building, hearing Ghost's heavy footsteps hitting against the ground. A small and pained smile forms on Y/N's face as he sees the masked man come into sight, watching as he quickly rushes towards him.

A feeling of relief swarms through Ghost's body as he sees Y/N sitting against one of the walls, though the condition the other man was in made his worry come right back. He quickly makes it to Y/N, dropping to his knees as he brings his hands to Y/N's body. "Y/N.. Fuck..." He can't help but take a second to look into Y/N's eyes, his own brown ones showing extreme vulnerability, a look of pure fear.

Y/N lets out a dry and painful sounding chuckle, trying to ease Ghost a little. "Mhm.. it's me." Y/N brings one of his shaky and bloodied hands up, letting it just hover over Ghost's covered cheek, not wanting to get his blood all over Ghost's mask. Ghost doesn't seem to care though, letting his face gently push into Y/N's hand.

Ghost lets out a shaky breath as he feels Y/N's hand against his face. "You're.. You're gonna be okay.. I'm gonna get you out of here, alright? I promise." Y/N gently shakes his head, his small smile faltering as he pulls his other arm away from his wound.

Ghost's eyebrows furrow as he sees Y/N's reaction to his words, but before he can speak, his eyes move down to where Y/N had moved his arm from. Ghost feels his heart shatter as the sight, multiple bullet wounds scattered across his abdomen, blood slowly seeping from each one.

Ghost shakes his head, almost frantically as he brings both hands to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding with his gloved palms. All he manages to achieve though is flooding Y/N's body in pain, evident by the startled cries leaving the injured man.

"Fuck.. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Just let me stop the bleeding, let me.."

Ghost's panicky voice trails off as he sees Y/N's wounds only bleeding more aggressively at his touch. He shakes his head, looking down at the other man's body as he keeps his hands on the wound. The blood soaks through Ghost's gloves, the warm and gory liquid uncomfortably sticking to his skin.

Y/N's hands instinctively reach Ghost's wrists, pulling the other man's hands away. "Fuck! Stop.. stop, Ghost." Y/N's grip was weak and his body had little to no strength now. Ghost slowly pulls his own shaky hands away. "I'm sorry.. I just.. you're gonna be okay, I'm gonna find some way to stop the bleeding, and then we'll.. we'll go back home. We're gonna-".

"Simon."

Ghost's mouth shuts at the use of his real name, an audible gulp being heard. His eyes trail back up to look into Y/N's, the look the other man gave him only made his heart sink, he felt like his world was falling apart. "Please.. we both know I'm not making it out of here.. just-"

"You are. You're going to make it out of here. Shut up with that nonsense." Ghost doesn't want to hear it, he refuses to hear it, to acknowledge it.. to accept it. He tried to keep his voice stern but the tremble that grew with each word made it obvious he wasn't all too hopeful either.

He slowly pulls his hands out of Y/N's grasp, bringing them back down to the surrounding area of the wound, his quivering fingers gently trailed over the scarred skin. He pulled off his gloves, using his bare hands to touch Y/N.

"You.. you can't... You're all I have left.."

Ghost's voice softened, his words paining him as they left his mouth. Y/N rests his hand back onto Ghost's mask, sliding it slightly down as he slips a couple fingers underneath the mask. The injured man remains silent, afraid of the emotion that'll leave him if he dared to speak up.

Ghost feels Y/N's fingers slide underneath the mask, a warm feeling bubbling in his stomach. He brings one of his bare palms to Y/N's hand, holding it in place before slowly, cautiously, pulling his mask over and off his head.

The sight of the rugged man made Y/N meekly smile, his heart fluttering at the long-awaited reveal of the subject of his attraction. He had been into Ghost for quite a while, and he always had a suspicion that Ghost felt the same. It was almost a silent understanding between both men, never outwardly speaking of their true feelings yet knowing they felt them.

Ghost looks down, his eyes falling shut as his grip on the other man's hand tightens, holding him closer against his now bare face. He didn't care for the blood the other man's hand was rubbing onto his skin, he needed this, he needed the Y/N's gentle touch.

"Thank you.." Ghost slowly opened his eyes at the other man's pained voice, watching as Y/N slumps further down the wall, groaning at the pressure it relieved from his wounds.

Y/N lets out a small hum at the feeling of the cold floor pressing against his back, a stark contrast to the warm liquid pouring out the front of him.

Ghost slightly shakes his head, a small smile on his face as he questions the other man. "What are you doing?" The other man signals for Ghost to come closer, his voice strained but trying to keep it sounding as optimistic as he could despite the situation.

"Getting comfortable.. Come here."

Ghost does just that, shuffling closer to the man that was now laying flat on the ground, looking down at him, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes in the man's appearance. One of Y/N's weak hands moves to Ghost's arm, gently pulling him even closer.

"Sit down, relax." Y/N was oddly calm despite the situation, despite knowing his undeniable fate. "Relax? How am I supposed to-" Y/N tugs at Ghost's arm, interrupting him. "Please." The desperation in Y/N's voice made Ghost's stomach wrench, he silently sat beside him, bringing his hands to hold onto Y/N's.

Y/N gratefully hums, his eyes looking over the other man before making a request, pleading evident in his tone. "Think you could hold me..? Jus' for a bit?" Ghost nodded, carefully wrapping his arms around Y/N's shoulders, gently pulling him into his arms.

His senses were heightened, he could feel everything, the warm blood starting to soak through his own shirt and the shake in Y/N's body. The rough and cold hands of the other man, weakly wrapped over whatever part of Ghost he could reach. Y/N lays in his arms, weak and helpless, his skin losing colour and his body shaking more rapidly...

For the first time that evening, Ghost came to terms with what was going to happen, he couldn't deny it any longer, not when it was so obvious. His eyes tear up, his heart thumping louder as all he can do is pull Y/N closer, hold the injured man in his arms as he wishes for this to just be some twisted nightmare.

He couldn't keep himself calm anymore, waves of emotions crashing onto him, flooding his mind and filling his body with unease. His grip tightened, the fabric of Y/N's clothes balling up in his fists, he just pulled him closer, not wanting to let him go, not now, not ever.

"Hey.. Simon."

Y/N looks up at the man holding him, watching as he struggles to hold in the tears his body so desperately wants to let fall. Y/N's cold fingers trace along Ghost's cheek, pulling his face a little closer, his voice quieter and more strained than before. "It's gonna be okay.."

Though the injured man was smiling in a way to comfort Ghost, his true feelings were obvious. His eyes held fear, a fear Ghost had never seen on the usually optimistic man before.

He knew he had to be strong, he knew that whatever fear he felt right now, Y/N was feeling tenfold. He took deep breaths, trying to gather himself. He felt his throat close up, he couldn't speak, not without breaking down completely, he could only nod in reply. He brought a trembling hand down to Y/N's face, his rough fingers caressing the skin with a softness Ghost didn't know he was capable of.

Y/N closed his eyes, humming at the gentle touch, and the contrasting feeling of Ghost's warm hand pressing against his chilled cheek. His presence was comforting, it almost felt like he was cuddled up against a cosy fireplace, like the flames were crackling in front of him and leaving warm kisses on his cheek.

It was a nice thought, a nice feeling, but it seemed like the pain in his abdomen did anything it could to bring Y/N out of his calming mindset. It felt like his body was on fire, but also like he had been out in the cold for days. His feet were numb now and he could feel the way his legs and fingertips also started to lose their senses.

He looked up at Ghost, tears had started to form in his own eyes, ones that were impossible to hide. "I'm scared.. you'll be here.. right? Please.. don't let me go, not yet.." His voice was faint, filled with an uneasy panic. Ghost started to nod, bringing his face closer down, letting his lips press against Y/N's cold forehead.

"..yes, yes.. I'll be r-right here. I'm not moving.. I'm not letting you go..."

Y/N closes his eyes, his head falling to the side slightly as he sighs. "Y'know.. I always looked up to you, Simon.." He leans his head deep into Ghost's chest, his tears slowly falling as he feels his body go numb. He had lost all feeling in his arms and legs, even the ache in his abdomen had started to ease. Ghost shakes his head slowly, biting his lower lip in an attempt to hold in the sobs he so desperately wanted to let go.

"I love you, Simon."

Ghost pulled Y/N closer, letting out quiet, choked sounds. He felt Y/N's body start to go limp in his arms, his hands desperately pulling at the other man's body to hold him in a comforting embrace. "I.. I love you too... Fuck.. don't do this to me.."

"I'm sorry.." Y/N moves his head, digging his face further into the other man's chest. All he could smell and hear was Ghost, the man he had grown so attached to. It brought him some comfort, knowing he would be dying in Ghost's arms, not alone. "Forgive me.."

"Always, Y/N.. always.."

Y/N lets out a weak hum, slightly nodding his head as his body relaxes in Ghost's arms, his head now starting to fall limp, being too heavy for Y/N to move. "..thank you..." Y/N's voice was barely audible, his mumble causing Ghost's heart to shatter.

"Always.. a-always... I-I'm here.. always..."

Ghost cradled the dying man in his arms, soothingly whispering as he slowly swayed his body side to side. "It's okay.. It's okay... You're safe.. you're safe with me.." Y/N's voice was practically inaudible as he tried to mumble back to the other man, his incoherent slurs trailing off into silence.

Ghost felt as if his whole world was crashing down right before his eyes. He could only pull Y/N closer, continuing to cradle the fallen soldier. His movements became a little more frantic as he rocked their bodies, his fingers clawing at Y/N's cold skin.

"Shit- I'm so sorry... I-It's okay.. It's gonna be okay.. It's gonna be okay..."

He whispered into the other man's ear, his voice broken as he felt the tears he had been suppressing, finally fall freely. His words started as a means to comfort his dying partner, but it seemed like he was only trying to convince himself now. He mumbled a mantra of 'It's okay' and 'I love you', the words just tumbling out without his control.

His body trembled, his throat letting out more choked sobs now than it had in the last 10 years, his eyes were screwed shut, his head dug into Y/N's frozen neck. His hands tried their best to pull Y/N's limp head up, his tears pouring down his bloody cheeks as the other man's head just dropped back down.

If only he made it there sooner, if only he was there to protect him; none of this would've happened. He wouldn't be here, holding the corpse of the man that showed him what it was like to be alive, how to feel, how to love. The one person that had been able to break down his walls and make him feel human again.

It felt like hours, hours of cradling his deceased lover in his arms like a child, hours of sobbing and mourning the one person that brought light into this cruel world.

"Ghost? Do you copy?"

Ghost heard the static of his radio before the familiar voice of his Captain rung through his ears. "Ghost?" Ghost's teeth grit as he hesitantly brought his hand to the radio on his shoulder, forcefully composing himself before clicking the button. "I'm here." He looked down at the deceased man in his arms, hugging him close as his body threatened to break down once more.

"Evac's here, did you reach C/S?"

Ghost lets out a shaky breath, his fingers shaking as he grips the radio. "C/S's.. C/S's been KIA." His hand falls from the radio, his blood-stained fingers gently caressing Y/N's cold cheek, gently pulling his face closer. Ghost couldn't help but admire the other man, his eyes closed and his eyebrows relaxed. His lips were tugged into a small smile, his skin devoid of its usual colour. He looked.. peaceful.

There was a few seconds of silence from the other line before it was cut by Price's voice once more. "I'm sorry, Ghost." Ghost placed a soft kiss on Y/N's bloody forehead, speaking through the radio one last time, leaving no room for argument. "I'll be there in a few, I'm takin' him with me."

Ghost snatched his mask from the floor beside him, pulling it on before scooping Y/N into his arms. He lifted him up, holding his limp body against his chest as he whispered. "It's gonna be okay.. I've got you.." He held the man tightly, his eyes glancing down at Y/N's motionless figure every few steps he took.

"I've got you..."

A/N: Could you tell I struggled ending this? I won't lie, I teared up a couple times while writing this, I think this might be the saddest thing I've written. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated, especially since I'm still not too familiar with Ghost's personality. This is also my longest fic ever, about 3.4k words!

Also a big thank you for over 400 followers, we're so appreciative of all your support!

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minihotdog · 2 months

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Locked Out On Valentine's (Ending: You took the tea)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

C/W: Smut, unprotected P in V, sexist-type humor, size kink

Word Count: 3k

Previous part

“You want some tea, love?”

***

You’re now sitting at the small round dinner table watching as he tilts the kettle into the mugs. He walks the mugs over to the table and sits across from you.

“Didn’t have anyone to stay with, did you?” He asks before taking a sip.

“I sure didn’t. Everyone is still avoiding me like the plague.” You stare down at the mug.

“It’ll end soon.” He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb. The action catches your attention and he doesn’t miss the sparkle in your eyes. For a stone-cold man, he sure was catching himself smirking a lot tonight.

“When I showed up to my first unit I got the same, and the unit after that.” The two of you drink simultaneously.

“What? They ignored you?”

“No,” He chuckles softly. “My first unit, they held me down and branded me with a shite-looking coat of arms made from a wire clothes hanger.”

You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand.

“What?! Where?!”

“My bum.”

You snort, “I’m sorry, that’s not funny.” You cover your face with your hands. His shoulders rise and fall with soft laughter.

“It is a little.”

“Did they ever get in trouble? Reprimanded?”

“Never told anyone, ran into them at my next unit and pummeled them into the ground.”

“Bravo!” You celebrate with your hands in the air. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Then I was disciplined for the beatin’ they got but it was worth it.”

“I agree, they had it coming.”

You take another gulp of your tea enjoying the spread of warmth inside of you.

“You’re quite fond of trouble.” He states flatly. You still, squinting at him in suspicion.

“What makes you say that?”

“Your files,” He raises his eyebrows at you. “Lengthy history of discipline, being reprimanded.”

You hum in response. “Is that the word on the street?”

He grins, his hand coming up to stroke his stubble before he sits back with his arms crossed looking at you. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I’ve gotten in trouble a couple of times in my career, what about it?”

“How long have you been in?”

“Five years.”

“You’re tellin’ me that you’ve been reprimanded nearly every single year you’ve been in?” He now leans on the table looking over at you with a dumbfounded look.

“Shit happens, I have no problem taking responsibility for it.”

“I didn’t take you for the type to cause trouble.”

“I’m not, I just don’t have the grace other people do. I do something stupid and get caught immediately.”

“You’re right about that. You’re a naughty one, for sure.” He says before downing the remaining liquid in his mug.

He smirks to himself letting his eyes roam over your shoulders.

"I heard that boyfriend of yours was a calvary bum." He pokes, changing the subject.

You "tsk" at him. Once everyone found out about your now ex-boyfriend they never let you live it down.

"What's his job got to do with anything?"

Simon shrugs, feigning ignorance, “Assumed a woman like you preferred men, that’s all.”

“Oh, hush!” You bite back a laugh refusing to meet his eyes.

“I bet he cried like a child at the thought of going to the field.”

“That’s enough out of you!” You reach over the table to cover his mouth. He fights you off taking your wrists in his hands. He stands and walks to your side of the table gently pulling up by the wrists. His massive frame takes most of your view, you can’t help but feel anxiety pool in your stomach having him tower over you.

“Poor bird, spendin’ her nights with half a man. Bet he didn’t have a clue what he was doin’.”

The warmth you felt from the tea was traveling up to your cheeks. He was so close you could smell the rich cologne in his skin. His hands were so rough but warm on your pulse.

Your eyes focus on his lips.

“Did he?” The gravel of his voice makes a shiver run through your spine. You gulp before responding.

”He was… enthusiastic.”

Simon laughs hoarsely, “Enthusiastic?” He enunciates with a shit-eating grin.

”Why is my sex life a topic of conversation to my Lt.?” You suddenly get some courage.

”You think I haven’t noticed you droolin’ over me, love. Peakin’ at me from afar. Now you show up to my flat with your tits fallin’ out of your top, your bare ass out, and a broken heart from some lad not worth the air he breathes.” He drops his head forcing you to meet his eyes. “Quite the coincidence, innit?”

”I think it’s more of a happy coincid-“ He breaks your sentence off catching your lips with his. Your brain pushes you out of your frozen state and the two of you begin moving in unison. He slowly releases your wrists and moves his hands to your waist. Your hands run down his chest.

He deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue past your lips. You moan softly as his tongue plays with yours. He pulls you against him, one hand over yours on his chest the other at the small of your back. You feel lightheaded, not in a bad way, quite the opposite. You’d fantasized about your Lt. plenty of times, his touch, the scars he hid beneath his army green top, the way his lips felt - come to find out they were soft, unlike the rest of him. His hands keep setting you ablaze when they touch your skin, the callouses nearly make your eyes roll back.

He growls into the kiss, tearing himself away from you. His arms wrap around the back of your thighs and you grab onto his shoulders. He lifts and places you on the table, forcing himself between your legs. He bites at your neck, pulling you into him. You grip the table feeling as if you could slide off at any second.

He eats up every single gasp he gets out of you. His teeth graze your collar bone and he sucks on the sensitive skin. Your nails run over his scalp down to the back of his neck drawing a groan from him.

He stops for a moment to let you catch your breath.

”You want this, love?” He leans his forehead against yours looking into your eyes.

“God, yes!” You exasperate.

He chuckles, still looking into your eyes.

”Hold on.”

”What do you-“

You squeal as he lifts you off the table and rushes to wrap your arms around his neck. You rest your head on his neck relishing in the feeling of his body against yours. Warmth radiated off of him like a furnace, the feel of his skin so addictive.

He carries you to the couch placing his knee on the cushions before gently placing you on your back. He follows you down and your hands run down his bare back.

He supports himself with one arm, the other trails down to your aching core, cupping the mound. He lets out a ragged breath once he feels the heat burning through you. He moves to pull your shorts off, dragging them up your legs and tossing them off to the side.

”Fuckin’ hell,” He groans at the sight of your bare pussy. “Such a bad girl walking around without knickers.”

He gives you one last hypnotizing kiss before brushing his lips in between your breasts. He kisses each one and carries on down your stomach and lands right above your clit.

You panic inside, you prop yourself up on your elbows, “Lt.”

”Fuck’s sake, love. As much as I love hearin’ you call me that, say my name, will you?” He laughs light-heartedly. You smile behind your hand trying not to break out in giggles.

“What is it?” His eyebrows pull together.

”You don’t have to do that if you don’t want.”

”Eat you out?” He looks at you confused.

You nod slowly, embarrassed at the question.

He “Tsks” at you lowering himself once again while muttering something along the lines of, “Calvary muppet took the fun out of pussy, didn’t he?”

”I’m serious! You don’t have to!” You spit out frantically.

“Shut up, doll.”

He licks a stripe up your cunt and moans softly to himself. Your lips part in disbelief. He slowly laps at your clit and you lower yourself onto your back. He decides not to work you too fast yet, scared you’d pass out after being neglected by that dumb bloke for so long.

You whine softly, legs already shaking. He wraps his arms around your thighs and presses them against his head.

He gently sucks on your clit and your hand shoots down to his head. The feeling of you tugging one his short locs encourages him to speed up. His lips wrap around your clit and toys with it as he pleases. The pace causes you to clamp your thighs around his head on your own.

Moans pour from your lips as your back arches. His hands stroke your thighs as you restrain yourself from pushing his head down further.

”Simon! Oh god!” Your mouth hangs open. You look down at him and nearly orgasm seeing him between your legs. His eyes are blown out, his thumb caresses your skin.

He lets go of one thigh and his fingers tap at your entrance gathering your wetness. He pushes two of his fingers inside you and your head falls back. Your vision goes fuzzy and you clamp your eyes shut. His fingers pump into you hitting your g-spot each time.

Your hand flies to your mouth and you let out a high-pitched moan. You chant his name tightening around his fingers. He feels your walls clamp down and continues pumping letting you ride it out. Your hips twitch, your thighs trap him where he is.

He waits until you go limp to pull away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

”Fuck, you made a mess.” He groans. He climbs above you and peppers your face with kisses. “Was that alright, love?”

You open your eyes to meet his, all you can do is nod unable to trust yourself to talk. He smirks at you, proud of himself for leaving you in such a state.

”You think you can take me, love, or do you need some time?”

”Want you so bad,” You whine out.

He lowers his head for a chaste kiss and pulls himself up onto his feet. He drops his sweats revealing the thick muscle of his thighs. His cock slaps his thigh as he throws his sweats onto the floor, the weight of it keeping it down. Your eyes meet his member and a wave of nervousness comes over you. His length was impressive but the thickness was your biggest concern.

“Hey! You weren’t wearing underwear either, hypocrite!”

He rolls his eyes at you with a smile. A sight so beautiful you can’t help but smile back.

He takes his earlier position above you and aligns himself with your entrance. He looks up at you and you feel his tip poking into you already.

”Ready, doll?”

You nod at him.

”Say it.” He whispers.

”I-I’m ready.”

”Alright then.” He nudges your forehead with his before the two of you look down to watch the sinful show of him slowly sliding into you. You gasp, hands going to his back. He moves at a snail’s pace letting you adjust as he goes. He cradles your head, forehead against yours trying to keep his breathing steady.

”Ah, tight little thing.” He rasps out.

Your mouth hangs open, your nails digging into his skin, legs hugging his waist once he fills you to the hilt. He waits a moment before slowly sliding out halfway and bringing himself back to the same depth. Your whines draw out. His tip hits the deepest parts of you so well that you nearly begin drooling.

He examines your face for any sign of discomfort before nudging your neck with his nose. He begins with a moderate pace as he kisses along your jaw. You wrap your arms around him, fingers running over the buzzed hair at the back of his head.

The stretch from his cock stings slightly, the overwhelming pleasure sending tingles through your bones making it hard to notice. He continues rocking his hips into yours letting you enjoy the feel of him without anything too overwhelming. You mewl into his ear as he stretches you over and over.

”Fuck, so good,” You whine.

His hand comes down to grip your breast, his thumb playing with your nipple, circling it gently. He slides his legs up kneeling with you in between his thighs. He stops, letting you catch your breath and he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He suckles the nub, playing with it with his warm tongue. He thumbs your clit as he treats the nub like a candy. He grabs you by the waist and pulls you down onto his cock, dragging you down the cushions fucking you onto him for a while.

He angles his hips to hit all the right places, your cunt throbs around him when he hits your g-spot head on causing you to gasp.

”Oh fuck! Right there!” Your hands cling onto his forearms for dear life as he goes on to hit the spot repeatedly until it nearly hurts. His pubic bone rubs against your clit with every thrust. He picks up his pace, throttling that poor little sensitive spot. Your back arches painfully. He takes advantage of it and throws his hand under your waist keeping you in the position swinging you down to meet his thrusts.

He stuffs you with his cock relentlessly. You become a mess beneath him struggling to get words out, just high-pitched moans filling the room.

”God! Oh god!”

“He’s not here, love. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” He orders.

The feeling grows inside you pulling the air from your lungs. He nips the skin below your breasts and licks a stripe between them to your neck. Your pussy flutters around him before you fall deep into euphoria, his name pours from you. Your ears ring and eyes wire themselves shut as you clamp down around him. Tears pour from your eyes involuntarily.

The sequence of flutters pulls him back into you making it too difficult to pull out too far. He buries his head in your chest as he’s pulled over the edge. He moans into your skin as your body sucks him back in, milking him so hard he blinks trying to rid himself of the fog. He begins spilling into you, his white hot streams shooting out at high velocity. He paints your walls so thoroughly that you feel his cock twitching with every spasm.

His cum spills out of you not having any more room to fill. You gush around him and he quietly gasps.

The two of you stay like this for what could’ve been an eternity. The post-orgasmic haze engulfs the both of you. He keeps himself inside and lowers himself onto his side, dragging you with him, throwing your leg over his hip. He pulls you into his sweaty heaving chest and kisses your forehead.

He feels a wetness on his thumb and pulls back, wiping away your tears.

”What’s happened, Y/n?” He asks, concerned. “Did I hurt you?” He moves to pull himself out of you and you grab him, bringing him to a stop. “You’re crying, love.”

”That was amazing.” You mumble, eyes struggling to open.

”You cryin’ because it was good?” He laughs, a big goofy smile plasters itself on his face. You force your eyes open to peek at him.

“You smile so pretty.”

He pulls you back to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you.

”Thank you, love.” You could still hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s get you cleaned up and put to bed, yeah?”

”Too sleepy.” You complain.

”It’s alright, I’ll take care of you.” Against your protests, he lifts himself slowly and positions himself to pull out of you. He gives you a single nudge with his cock still sheathed and you nearly purr.

He pulls out slowly.

”Jesus, I’m gonna need a new couch.” He mutters. His cum spills from you, his eyes glued to your core watching it slowly pour out. His cock twitches and he has to look away. There was no way you were in shape for another round. Thankfully the memory was burned into his mind - the best thing he’d ever seen, next to you of course.

He lets you know he’ll be back and you hear water rushing down the hall. He returns moments later and slides his hands under you.

”Bath time,” He says in a sing-song-y voice. You giggle, lacing your fingers behind his neck. He lifts you in his arms and looks into your eyes. “You were wonderful.” He pecks your lips and carries you off to his bathroom placing you in the bathtub before sliding in behind you.

”I don’t have a hair tie but I’ll try with some string,” He says mostly to himself. The warm water only reaches your belly button, once he slides behind you it rises a few inches. He wraps your hair into a funny-looking bun and ties it with the piece of string he found.

” Ta-da.”

“Thank you, Simon.” You say sweetly leaning back against him. He holds you against him and you feel something poke into your back.

”Sorry, love. It’ll go down, I don’t expect you to stay awake long enough for another one.”

You moan in response and sigh letting the water nearly lull you to sleep.

“Wait,” you breathe out. “Does me saying your name turn you on?”

He doesn’t respond. You try to look up at him but he tightens his hold not wanting you to see the red spawning over his face.

”Siiiiimon”

”Oh, hush.” He imitates your voice.

”Hey!”

He grabs his loofa and begins lathering you in bubbles.

”C’mon, I wanna get you in bed before you fall asleep.”

He cleans every bit of you, focusing on your breasts because no matter how much he denied it at that moment, he was still a dog. He hands you a bath bomb that he saved in case he ever had a special someone stay over and let you watch it fizz up as he cleans himself.

He dries you off and plops you down on his massive bed wearing his t-shirt. By the time he throws on his boxers you’re fast asleep under the covers, engulfed in his scent.

He slides next to you pulling you into his arms. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and whispers into your hair, “You’re mine now, doll. All mine.”

#Simon Riley #Simon ghost riley #ghost #simonghostrileysmut #simonrileysmut #codsmut #simonrileyxreader #simonghostrileyxreader #ghostxreader #ghost x reader

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bloodycassian · 5 months

Text

Just another body - Reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley

Reader's callsign is 'Leto'

18+ NSFW

Reader admits her feelings for Ghost on a mission, sex happens. PinV, oral, fingering, dirty talk.

“You bring ‘em in like stray dogs. Leave it this time.” Ghost’s order is borderline amused when you eye the contraband sitting atop the server racks. He’d rolled up his sleeved coat after an hour of sweating in the server room, revealing thick muscled forearms that sent your eyes darting for more than just weapons to loot. The man was distracting, with either the voice, the body or the way he commanded a room. He was turning into a liability, but you weren’t sure how to dismiss yourself from the team any sooner. You’d already asked Price for an out, which he guaranteed would happen as soon as they could manage without you.

Getting shot because you were busy staring at the lieutenant was not an ideal way to expedite the process.

“We’re going to have to find something to do here. I couldn’t even play Snake if I wanted to.” You mutter, toeing one of the eighteen massive steel beams just in the tech room alone. With the amount of tech they supplied, you’d been amazed at the lack of personnel guarding the damn things. Further stunned at the little time it’d taken to find the massive fans and cooling systems and shut them down.

It’d taken only minutes for the basement to become uncomfortably warm. Half an hour in, and you’d stripped free of your coat and shoved it into your already full backpack. Simon had offered to carry it in his back on your behalf, but you declined. Going through his things, being at his back but not watching it was too intimate for some reason. Sure, he was your teammate, and sure, you’d swiped more than a few mags of ammo from the exact backpack, but the soft way he’d said it, how he’d eyed you a moment after taking it off felt like toeing a border that you were more than aware of.

“We’ve got two hours before our bird arrives, you’ll be fine.” He dismisses your complaint, shrugging his shoulders and shifting the pack around. You step towards him, forgetting your own rules and boundaries around him for a moment, and raise your arms to unbuckle the chest strap of the pack. His hands catch yours and his brows narrow behind the mask. You suddenly are distinctly aware of how easily he could break your hand in a hundred different ways, but the warmth and gentleness of his gloved touch is the most distracting part of it.

“You should take a break, let me carry it for a while.” You fuss, hoping that it comes off as helpful and not nagging. You’d already insisted he buy a balm for his shoulder and knees at the shop closest to the safehouse. Was your concern for him too obvious? “So I don’t have to hear you complain about how sore you are later?” You press, noting how his eyes dart from your eyes to your lips, then to where your hands meet.

Your stomach rolls, and you fear for nausea with the intensity of it. With the way his dark eyes somehow see through you and into what your words really intend. “Let me take care of you. Let me touch you.”

And it’s a miracle he doesn’t see the way you watch his every movement, that or incredible stupidity. But you know he isn’t stupid. You know he reads others like the damned menu he’d stolen from your hands once you’d arrived here. The Intel Target had reserved a time with a particularly well known black market dealer and their joint decision to dine out had resulted in one of the best meals of your life.

He knew you couldn’t read the language, and had taken it upon himself to just know you. To know exactly what you wanted and how you’d wanted it cooked. He’d ordered your meal as fluently as he held a gun, and you’d nearly forgotten about your mission in the bliss of the taste of it all.

He nods once, a slow movement before he’s slinging his rifle strap over his head and removing the pack with lethal efficiency.

“What’s that look about? What’re you thinkin’?” He asks, eyeing you as you push the memory away.

“How good that damned dinner was.” You answer truthfully, wondering if losing him isn’t worth the safety it would ensure. The pack weighs heavy on your shoulders, along with the guilt.

He rolls his neck and sigs as you adjust the straps to your body, clicking the chest buckle into place and tugging it tight. “Maybe I’ll convince Price to keep you ‘round.” He said, and you can hear the mocking in his tone.

Your words come automatically. “I’m needed with second squad.” You lie. It’s what you’d been telling Soap for the last three weeks, no more detail, no more emotion than that. But Simon… he knows something is wrong with the quipped words and selective tone. But it’s the only thing you’re able to tell him, really. His brows twitch together for a moment at your short explanation, and he turns to you fully, taking his eyes off the exits. Your heart thunders, blood pounding in your ears as loud as the servers begin to whine around you.

“Second squad-” He practically spits the name. “doesn't deal in your expertise, Leto.” His voice rumbles and your mouth falls open as he steps closer, towering over you. For a moment you can only marvel at the brutality of his build. A tank of a killing machine he is, tall and built and ready for you to climb. A True, full blooded warrior, to the very core.

And behind that mask, and those eyes that pierce through to your very being - He knows. Oh God, he knows you’re lying. Your eyes go wide, and like a fool you forgo all your interrogation training. “What isn’t Price telling me?” He growls, his hands going to the radio at his hip.

You stammer, trying your damnedest to put on a show of innocence. “Nothing, he wouldn’t-” God now he’s thinking Price is going to betray him, you’ll tear the team to pieces if he thinks-

“Guess I can ask for myself-” He pulls the radio free, his eyes still boring into yours.

He raises it slowly, giving you time to lie more, to come up with a shitty excuse for why you’d been avoiding missions with him for the last few months. Why you’d had to beg Second Squadron to open a spot for you and your expertise as he’d called it.

“Stop-” You gasp, hands catching his before he can make the comms live. His finger brings the small screen to life, the green glow reflecting in his eyes. “Fuck Simon, christ. Okay, Okay stop.” You breathe, and surprisingly he allows you to take the radio from him.

“I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. With you-” The words feel like poison as you release them, it aches deep in your chest to know how real they are. His eyes flash wide, then his features harden, his mask adjusting to what you’d imagine to be a flexed jaw and thin lipped grimace.

“I asked to be switched. You’re… distracting. I- get distracted around you, I mean.” You sigh, and your sweaty hands leave your weapon, a dull reminder of the real reason you’re in the sweltering basement beneath miles of concrete.

He stills, body going taut and flexed in that way he does when he’s listening for enemy footsteps.”Go on.” He insists. In this moment it wouldn’t be so bad if enemies found you. It’d save you from having to explain further.

“Goddammit Ghost-” You push a hand through your hair, tugging slightly. “I’ve had it a rule for myself for my entire career to never get involved. And here you are, ruining it.” You spit it out, like your feelings are somehow his fault. At least he knows now. At least you don't have to go on lying to him when he can tell your words are false.

There’s a long pause, the only sound the whirring struggle of the tech around you. His eyes don't leave yours, and you duck your head in shame.

“‘M’not Ghost to you, though, am I?” He steps closer, closing in around you, making it so you’re forced to stare up at him and arch backwards against one of the boxes behind you.

“What-” You shake your head, confused at his question.

He leans down close, and you tense, ready to fight him if needed. But his words had no intent of violence in them, not even a hint of it. Still, your muscles bunched, ready to attack if he so much as raised his voice. Ready to fight. Ready.. For what? He’d been the guarding your back for the last four years, since you’d been assigned to 141. He’d never hurt you, physically anyway. Was your body preparing for his rejection? Was it truly ready to try to fend off the man twice your size that had bested you in every sparring competition you’d ever had with him?

His mouth is on the cusp of your ear when he speaks. “I’ve heard you whinin’, moaning my name.” He says slowly, and your heart stops for a moment. Heat surges from your neck to your ears. Your eyes prick with embarrassed tears. “Oh Simon, ooh fuck.” He mimics, rolling his hips forward, his thigh brushing the inside of your own.

“Ghost-” Your words are choked, and you’re relieved when he interrupts you.

“We’ve not shared a room in some time, but I still hear you.” He pulls back,only enough to look you in the eyes and he smiles, his eyes crinkling when he stares you down. “I still..listen for you.” He nods slightly, his eyes flicking from yours to your lips.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you're on him before he can say anything else. His mask is warm and wet with sweat, but he lifts it up enough to expose his mouth and the stubbled chin and jaw. His lips are magnetic, pulling you in and keeping you there as he palms your ass. He flicks the front strap of the backpack off and in a moment you’re shedding layers and layers of gear and armor plates that suddenly seem ridiculous to be carrying in the first place.

If he’s the one getting you killed, dying may not seem so harsh.

He’s tender and giving until you nip at his lower lip and scratch down his back once he’s removed his vest, then he’s teeth and demanding hands that you knew could do exactly this. What you’ve dreamed about, apparently.

He picks you up with ease, bringing you back to a windowless room where you’d downloaded the server information. He sets you stop a cold desk and swipes an arm across the surface, sending office supplies and monitors crashing to the ground before he’s on you once again. His tongue traces yours slowly, rhythmically as his hands search and pull and bite into your skin. Calloused, strong fingers brush over your breasts and grip every part of you’d been imagining since you’d joined 141.

He’s feral and somehow controlled at the same time, a balance of will and want. Only you’ve been waiting for this for years. You’ve been dreaming about him, and the want for him outweighs your will and control. “I need you.” You gasp when he lifts your shirt over your head. You pull his up as well, marveling at how solid he is, how built and perfect every feature is.

You want to taste it all.

But he’s controlling the pace, and you have no problem with it. His tongue traces masterfully over your skin, along the column of your neck, sending a new surge of fire to your core. Maybe you would retract your request to move to Second Squad, if it meant you’d get to be with Simon.

He rips your pants down, dragging your panties with them, exposing your swollen cunt to the air. “Fuck me-” He breathes, working his own pants to the floor around his boots. He kneels before you and spreads you apart, his eyes dragging over the most sensitive parts of you.

“Intend to.” You gasp as his bare hand circles your clit. He pulls his other glove off with his teeth and lets it fall to the floor, never looking away from either your pussy or your face as he learns you in a whole new way.

“Filthy fucking girl.” He growls approvingly, before burying himself in your pussy. The first stroke of his tongue from your center to your clit has you gasping, rolling your hips forward for more, and his eyes flash to yours, his pupils are enormous, his brows lowered in a look you’d previously describe as deadly. Now, you understood in those moments he was looking at you with desire. Your thighs clamp together, but he only groans and pushes harder on to you, his tongue lapping and flicking over your clit wildly.

He pulls away only to lap at his middle finger, making sure you watch as he coats it in his own saliva. Your hips rock upwards, keening for his touch again. His other hand is pulling slowly at his cock, now freed from the black pants that are only held on by his thigh holster. “Ghost-” You whine, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him better.

“Patience.” He warns, then finally lowers his finger to your entrance, his eyes devouring the way your body reacts to his warm digit. Your head lolls back, the burning ache for him relieved slightly while he works you open. He swears and adjusts his positioning. Then His tongue begins a slow pattern on your clit again, and he swears he’s never been so close to coming just from the feel of someone.

“Fuckin’ perfect for me-” He hisses when he slides deeper inside of you, reveling in the warm wetness there, his cock surges and he swears under his breath. He curls his finger and thrusts it forth, prodding your insides and searching for the things that’d make you tick.

“Ghost- Simon-” Your breathy moans have him coming undone too quickly, so he removes himself from you, damning every god he’s ever heard of for the horrid timing of your confession. Shit, if he’d just asked before the mission - when he’d first heard price talking about you moving teams… No, not now. His frustration is put into a box to be used later.

He grips the base of your neck and hauls you upward, smashing his lips into yours in a bruising kiss that he hopes leaves a mark on himself. At least then he’d have the proof for himself to know that this was real, and not another of his fantasies. He pulls back, and smiles at your confused, pouting expression. Then, before you can talk back like he knows you want to, he laps at the finger covered in your wetness, wishing he could have the taste permanently ingrained to his mind.

He hadn’t been keeping an eye on your hands, and your touch to the base of his cock has him stiffening in surprise. He stumbles forward when you pull him, hissing when you rub the head of his cock against your needy cunt. He can’t help but lean into it, his breathing only coming out in short puffs while he regains his self control. “Slow.” You say, relaxing as much as you can while he slides forward. You lay back and embrace the sweet stretch his thick cock brings. His thumb finds your clit and he circles it slowly while he fills you.

His eyes flick to yours for assurance with every inch, but all he can see is the red marks along your throat and collarbone from where he’d bitten at you. More, he wanted more. The thirst for your skin on his tongue is insatiable. He gazed upon you, reveling in the feel and sight of you around him. The swollen, red lips that he wish were on his own throat, but he cant bring himself to request that of you when your body was laid out before him like this. With every inch he pushed into you, he finds something new to marvel over. The scars, the freckles and stretch marks, the callouses and tan lines - every part of you that seemed like a secret before now. He silently vows to himself to memorize them all, to take stock of every one of those scars so he could be sure he wouldn’t miss any new ones.

He bows over you, planting wet, sloppy kisses across every feature he could reach once he’s fully buried inside of you. Your walls squeezed around him, and his cock twitches again. He bites into his lip, the pain distracting him from the pleasure for a moment. He pulls back slightly, and slides back in. Your moans are synchronized. You chant his name like a goddamn prayer, and he could swear he bit a hole in the side of his cheek.

“How d’ya want me?” He asks, leaning down, hoisting your leg up over his muscled and forcing you to take him even deeper. You cry out, but with the movement his cock brushes over the spot inside of you, hiking your need to a new level. Close. So close with such few movements. This man was a god. Or a demon. Most would likely say a demon of some sort.

“Tell me sweetheart, how’ve you dreamed this?” He asks, sliding out fully and spearing himself back in. Your eyes roll back and an animalist sound claws its way from your throat. Your insides clench around his length, pulling him in, in in, and somehow you still need more. You need all of him. The demanding heat inside you requires it. You fumble for his chest, where his tac vest usually would allow you to haul him forward, but his hand catches yours, and pins it back beside your head.

You arch and preen for him, rolling forward though he’d bottomed out. He’s swearing and practically purring with satisfaction of watching you. God you’ve never felt so desperate for something, never felt like you needed another person this badly before. A demon, definitely a demon.

“Such a pretty fucking show for me.” He rolls his hips back, then thoroughly back into place. A sound you don’t recognize leaves your throat in response. “In my head, I’ve taken you on top ‘a every inch of that safehouse.” He pulls out, and snaps his hips forward again, leaving you quivering with need. “I’ve had you comin’ on my face, my hands, my cock, on whatever toy you want…” He hisses, pulling back slightly to watch his glistening member re enter your wetness. “Is this all you want - my cock buried in your pretty pussy?” His hand squeezes your thigh, then goes to your clit, and for a moment you can’t believe you’ve held on this long. Your body trembles beneath him and your knees pull together, but it doesn’t stop him.

“Yes Simon, yes god, yes-” You pant, then pull your joined hands to your face, he’s still playing over your clit when you suck his pointer finger into your mouth and his eyes fly to yours. You can’t imagine the sight of yourself, but something changes for him in that moment. He moves, leaning over you fully, one hand cupping the back of your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes, the other on your hip, holding you firmly in place. His forearms barricading you while his hips snap forward at a brutal pace, forcing the tip of his cock into that sweet spot that makes you come nearly instantly.

Your eyes go wide, mouth open while obscene sounds spill from you. His breathing, the way he bites his lip, all of it is too much.

You’re coming, and coming and screaming but everything has gone quiet in your head. Only his darkened eyes matter, the way the paint black has started melting away, the way his brows pull together and how his eyes graze over every one of your features admiringly as you gasp his name over and over again, his cock forcing your orgasm like he’d fucked you a million times and knew exactly what to do.

Only the waves of ecstasy exist to you, that and the smell, the weight of his body over yours, the heat of him. Your legs shake, hooking around his backside and pulling him deep into you. Within a few more strokes he’s gasping, his body shuddering and your stomach is suddenly covered. He brushes hair back from your face, and a wry smile forms on his lips. He pulls the mask back down, over his reddened lips and pecks your cheek before shakily pushing himself up. He grabs the backpack, pulls a sweater from it and begins wiping you clean.

#ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #reader x simon riley #CoD fic #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty x reader #ghostxreader #ghost x reader #reader x ghost #readerxghost #simonrileyxreader #simon riley x reader

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nymahjoie · 7 months

Text

Day two of kinktober '23, featuring you, Ghost, and an oral fixation.

[ao3] / text in read below

If there was one thing Ghost could rely on with you, it was your impatience. If you wanted something done, you wanted it done as soon as possible. That impatience bled into your professional life, making you a poor sniper, but excellent on your toes. Not that it mattered much now with those quick feet dangling over his shoulders after you pulled him close as soon as he walked through the door of your room, your face flushed and a pulsing eagerness between your legs.

For all his grumbling, he’s happy to oblige your neediness, your back pressed against the mattress, shirt bunched up to your ribs, and pants and underwear discarded with his mouth on your thigh. Your chest rises and falls with each kiss and nip, his teeth drawing out soft moans from your reddened lips.

He shushes you and his fingers make their way into your mouth, hooking behind your teeth, “Don’t need anyone hearin’ you, now do we?”

You shake your head, lips closing around calloused fingers, and tilt your chin down to take them further in. His fingers slide along the length of your tongue, pressing against it until he finds the point that makes you gag. The sensation makes your hips instinctively rut forward toward him.

“There you go, that’s better.”

He takes the opportunity to shift positions and hitch your hips up higher, practically bending you in half with your ankles hooked behind his neck. The angle is perfect for him to keep both of your mouths busy. While his kisses the sensitive nerves between your legs, yours is occupied by his fingers pumping along your tongue.

“Fuckin’ hell, just look at you.”

Saliva spills past your needy lips as his fingers work in and out, drool trailing down from the corners of your lips as your moans are muffled by his hand. Your head bobs with the rhythm he’s set, whining when he removes his fingers.

“Ghost…” the moniker leaves trembling lips, your leg twitching beside his ear.

He chuckles at the sound, kissing the insides of your thighs. “Needy little thing, gettin’ off on my fingers in your mouth. Been achin’ for it, hm? Tch, can’t even go a week without me fuckin’ you.”

You squirm beneath him, trying to find more friction, your “please”’s and “need”’s filling the air around the two of you.

“Barely five minutes in and you’re already buzzin’. Maybe next time I’ll make you wait longer.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, the way he enjoys being able to turn you into a babbling mess with just two fingers and his mouth. Smug bastard, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Not when Ghost finally takes you in his mouth, turning that quick mind of yours to mush with a single swipe of his tongue and emptying it of all thought aside from him and having your mouth filled. Were you in a state of caring, you’d probably have been embarrassed by the sound that leaves you, only to be muffled when his two fingers push into your parted lips again. But you don't care about anything aside from getting off at this moment.

His fingers pump in and out of your mouth in opposite time as his, the wet sounds of sloppy sucking filling the air as your hips grind against his face and your cheeks hollow around his fingers. His grunt vibrates through your core, a third finger being added and the pace picking up.

It doesn't take long before you feel yourself building towards climax, body tensing as your legs clench around his ears. You feel the first pulse of release shoot through your body, your eyes rolling back in your head as your back arches, your throat opening and closing around his fingers. You shudder under him, your hands gripping his hair tightly, pulling him closer to you as you ride out the orgasm. He doesn't stop until you've finished, his fingers still pumping away in your mouth until you're whining around them.

Keeping your mouth occupied still, Ghost eases your hips down onto the bed and hovers over you. "You're such a good little slag," he says, leaning down and replacing his fingers with his mouth. You can taste yourself there on his tongue and the salty tang has you ready to go again. He pulls away and you swallow the saliva that threatens to dribble down your chin, licking your lips clean before looking up at him, a blissed smile curling across your lips.

You reach down to hook your fingers into his belt loops to return the favor, but he catches your wrist. You pout and Ghost is just about tempted to let you sink to your knees before his watch beeps, a reminder that you two are needed elsewhere, and he swats your hand away.

“There’ll be time for that later. We’ve got a meeting, remember? Now, get yourself straightened out and be there in five.”

#simonriley #simonghostriley #ghostmw #ghostmw2 #codghost #callofdutyghost #ghostxreader #simonrileyxreader #promptober #promptober2023 #fictober #fictober2023 #codfanfic #codfanfiction #callofduty #modernwarfare

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secularpoet · 1 year

Photo

Call of Duty: Task Force 141 (on Wattpad) Two months after Hassan's assassination, America's President receives a video regarding the kidnapping of his niece. Task Force 141 is requested for the mission. Y/n is the mission. Once rescued, there will be two problems: your secret, and the man known as Simon "Ghost" Riley. Whose life will you choose: yours, or his?

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minihotdog · 2 months

Text

Locked Out On Valentine's (Choose Your Ending)

(Photo Cred: @chatskaja on twitter) <3

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You get locked out on Valentine's Day and have to sleep over at a certain Lt.'s flat.

C/W: Reader is dressed a little inappropriately

A/N: Never tried something like this before so I hope it buffs out. Also, super late Valentine's fic whoops

Word Count: 1k

“What do you mean he’s not available?!” You stand with your forehead against your door.

“Barrack’s manager is out on leave, he’ll be back tomorrow. Recommend you stay with a friend for now.”

“Wait! Where’s the emergency ma-” *click*

What the fuck!

You huff, banging your head against the outside of your door. Today was one of the worst days of your life. You planned a date with your boyfriend of one year only to be dumped right before you were supposed to meet up. And after bawling your eyes out decide to run out to the fountain to get back the hydration you lost.

The redness around your eyes finally went away but they were so puffy you couldn’t even see your keychain still hanging on the wall.

You’re now stuck in the middle of the hall on Valentine’s Day in a short tank top and your bedtime booty shorts hoping a soul doesn’t appear and see you with all your goods hanging out.

The barracks manager - or whoever that was - told you to find a friend. You didn’t have any here. You’d been in the unit for all of five months and they weren’t all that accepting of new people. They oozed the “prove yourself worthy of our clan” mentality. You roll your eyes just at the thought.

Ughhh. I really don’t want to.

You whine internally as you pull up Cpt. Price’s contact on your phone hoping you’re not interrupting anything.

“Sergeant y/n, what’s the purpose of your call?” He sounds annoyed. You hear a feminine voice in the background and him softly shooshing it.

“Sir! I’ve been locked out of my room and the primary barracks manager won’t be in till tomorrow. I don’t have anywhere to stay.”

“That’s unfortunate, isn’t it?” His voice strains lightly. He’s quiet for a moment and you’re unsure if you’re supposed to say something or…

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll message you soon.”

You sigh in relief. Maybe he’d contact the emergency manager and they’ll come unlock your door.

You stand with your arms crossed, back against the cold wall for what feels like forever until your phone finally buzzes.

Cpt. Price: Bld 920 Room 1208. Stay there tonight.

You’re about to flood him with questions, like: Where’s the key? Is there someone already there? Who’s room is this? But before you’re done typing he sends one last message.

Cpt. Price: I’m busy tonight with work so no need to thank me. Or call me again.

Work…? Yeah right!

The room was at least in the same building as you. Beats trekking in the snow in slippers and the ungodly attire you have on at the moment.

You make your way up the stairs cursing the base for not putting an elevator in your building. You peer at each door while wandering further down the hall.

1206… 1207… 1208!

You take a deep breath before knocking quietly.

God, I hope it’s at least a woman.

A few seconds go by before the door swings open. You stand wide-eyed. If you had less control your jaw would be on the floor too.

You stare back at your Lt. in all his glory. He stares back at you in nothing but low-hanging sweatpants. His blond hair is disheveled, the color matching the patch of hair on his bare sculpted chest. You’d seen him maskless before but from afar. He’s someone many avoided, his demeanor wasn’t exactly inviting and his wrath, from the rumors, was even worse.

The light flooding through the door frame illuminates his face enough to show the fine features up close. The scars running through his lips and cheeks only add to the stirring inside you that’s leaving you speechless.

As you try to stop yourself from ogling him right here and now he notices your eyes popping out of your skull and softly blows air out of his nose.

Is he laughing at me?

He decides to finally break the staring contest.

“What d’you want, pet?”

You stutter a bit before getting the words out,

“I got locked out, the captain told me to come here. He didn’t tell me it was your place.”

It was his turn to let his eyes wander. His eyes rake over your tank top, your arm over your chest to conceal the fact you’re braless, your exposed stomach and shorts that barely did their job as clothes. You stand there waving your water bottle around as you speak, completely unaware of the look on his face.

A smirk pulls at one of his lips as he listens to you ramble about the barracks managers not doing their jobs. Your voice gradually gets higher the angrier you get.

“What the hell are you wearin’?” He interrupts.

“Why are you answering the door half-naked?” You shoot back.

He sneers, “You show up at my door wantin’ a place to stay and you have an attitude?” He pulls his phone from his pocket seeing a barely coherent message from Price.

“Fine. No point in arguin’, Price is probably with the missus, doesn’t want to be bothered.” He steps to the side allowing you to come in. You cautiously accept and step into the space.

His place was neat, and well-kept, more like an apartment rather than the prison they kept you in. You turn back to look at him and notice the tattoos covering the skin of his arm. He pretends not to notice you checking him out as he walks to the hallway closet and pulls out a pillow and blanket.

He hands them to you, “Is that enough or d’you need a bedtime story too?”

“Little Red Riding Hood’s my favorite, please.” You snark, as you drop the pillow and lean over to throw the blanket over the cushions. You swear you hear his breath catch in his throat but get quickly covered up by him clearing his throat.

“So… What are you up to on Valentine’s Day?” You prod hoping to learn something about the most feared individual of the unit.

“Just another day, means nothin’.” He leans against the wall behind him. You sit with your legs crossed on the almost comically large couch, probably custom-made for his giant ass. You lean on your hand and look up at him.

“Is that so?”

“What happened to that muppet you’re always moanin’ bout? Should be with him.” He tilts his head to the side.

“Nah, he’s no good. Decided he liked by friend better.” You laugh sadly. “Can’t seem to keep them this time of year. I’m too cool for it.” You try to joke but end up cringing on the inside. His chest rises with a soft chuckle.

“That right?”

“You know it.” You wink at him.

The two of you go quiet for a moment.

He decides to break the silence.

”You want some tea, love?

*** Decision Time ***

Why not? I'm already here and he's being nice. Sure, I'll have some tea.

Or...

I don't wanna be a bother. He's already having to let me stay over. I'm gonna pass on tea.

#Simon Riley #Simon ghost riley #ghost #simonghostrileysmut #simonrileysmut #codsmut #simonrileyxreader #simonghostrileyxreader #ghostxreader #ghost x reader

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minihotdog · 2 months

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Locked Out On Valentine's (Ending: You didn't take the tea)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

C/W: Smut, unprotected P in V, Somnophilia, poor foreplay, possessiveness

Word Count: 1k

Previous part

“You want some tea, love?”

***

You’re inclined to accept but don’t want to be too demanding while he’s so kind to let you sleep on his couch.

You put on your best smile, “I’m alright, thank you.”

”I thought I’d offer, keep your head up, yeah?” He says sympathetically before heading off down the hallway. You turn off the floor lamp at the other end of the couch and scroll through your phone, mentally scolding yourself every time you think about going to your ex’s socials to see if he’d posted any pictures of him and your ex-best friend. Your heart pangs with sadness. You dared to open yourself up to two people and got humiliated twice over. You bite back tears, throwing your phone down and trying your best to fall asleep despite the gaping hole in your chest.

Simon struggled with sleep usually. It wasn’t something he shared with just anyone. He tosses and turns all night and when he does finally find the slumber he’s chasing he’ll jerk awake at the scenes of horrible memories that weigh heavily on his mind. But tonight was different.

The ‘intel girl’ was finally within reach. The boys at work would go quiet every time she would walk by and once she disappeared they talked about their various plans to be the one to chat her up.

He lies awake with his thoughts racing, thinking of her. Thinking of the way she looked at him when he opened his door to her. The way her tank top clung to her, the supple flesh of her breasts outlined perfectly, and the image burned into his mind of when she leaned over the couch, her shorts riding up her toned thighs and the curve of her ass… He felt as if he was running a fever.

He throws the covers to the side letting the cool air hit his overheated skin. He readjusts his sweats, setting his manhood free. He strokes himself to mental images of you to no avail. It’s not enough for him after having you so close. He yearns to feel your skin against his, the need eats away at him.

His mind begins to tell him that you need him, heartbroken and so needy. Why else would you show up looking the way you did? What if getting locked out of your room was just a scheme to get near him?

He knows you’re attracted to him. The sly glances you always send his way when the two of you pass each other. The flustered look you get when he speaks to you, no matter how brief. It had all been a call to him, of all the men hunting for you, you’d already chosen him.

Before he knows it, he’s opening his bedroom door and standing over your sleeping body. You lie on your side, one palm resting atop the other. So soft in your sleep, unbothered. He wants to reach out and run his fingers over your tear-stained cheeks.

He climbs over you and carefully lodges himself between you and the backrest. He slowly wraps his arms around you and breathes in your scent. He wonders for a moment if this is the best way to let you know the feeling is mutual, but he knows he won’t have the courage to let you know any other way.

He leaves soft kisses on your shoulder, leading them to your neck. He restrains himself from biting the skin, leaving his mark on you, afraid that it’ll wake you too soon. His rough hands squeeze your breasts, caressing them over your clothing. You stir slightly in your sleep causing him to halt for a moment. He continues his scheme and trails down your stomach slipping his hand beneath your shorts. He moves his thigh in between yours to give himself room.

The pads of his fingers rub slow circles into your clit as he lies there breathing you in. You whine in your sleep. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on your delicate neck, speeding up the pace he was toying your clit with. You fuss in your sleep, the foreign feeling disrupting your dreams. Your absentminded moans spur him on. He presses his bulge against your backside, sighing into your neck.

”Simon?” You half slur half moan. He shushes you, working your clit in tight circles. Your hand grips his forearm weakly.

“S’alright, doll. I’ve got you.”

He runs a finger over your slit feeling the drip from your cunt. He can’t contain himself any longer, needing to feel you, hear you cry out for him.

”I’m sorry, love. I’ll make it up to you.” You barely comprehend what he says. He feels bad for not preparing you properly but the blood rushing to his cock has left him painfully hard. You unknowingly contributed to the unbearable ache.

He yanks your shorts off and places your leg over his, spreading you wide open. He wraps his hand around his throbbing length and runs his leaking tip over your folds, lubricating it before he pushes into you.

The resistance forces a gasp from you, stilling your body as he carefully thrusts himself into you. You dig your nails into his thigh trying to push yourself away.

”Easy, easy.” He coos at you, caressing your back with his lips. His arms wrap around your waist, your arm trapped under his heavy biceps. He continues with his shallow thrusts until he’s almost fully in.

”I’ll stop here, love. Deep breath for me.” He speaks so lovingly between his own ragged breaths, as if he hadn’t woken you up with his hand down your shorts. You finally suck in a breath and he pulls out. He waits for you to exhale and shoves himself back in. You squeak, the friction mixes with pleasure. Your brain is still recovering from the fog and unsure if this is actually happening. He gives you a few slow thrusts before his stride increases.

You whine loudly, not prepared for his hurried movements. He apologizes in your ear repeatedly, gasping and groaning at your tightness.

“Fuck, I needed you so bad, love. I hope you understand.” He loses his self-restraint, littering you with bite marks, wanting it to be known that you were taken. You cry out in pain as it shoots through your neck and shoulder, his teeth digging into you. He licks the wounds, soothing your irritated skin.

He rams into your cervix and you shutter in his arms.

”Too deep!” You cry out once more.

“Forgive me.” He brings two of his fingers to his mouth, wetting them before bringing them down once more to run frantic circles into your clit.

Your uneven gasps turn to moans and your eyes shut tightly. His thrusts are still violent and overbearing, but the tingles running through you once his fingers slip over the nub, paired together make you drool onto the pillow below you.

His hard thrusts jolt you upwards. He growls into your neck sending shivers through your spine.

“Simon!” You whimper. His eyes nearly roll back hearing you call out his name.

“That’s right, doll. Say my name. Let everyone hear you.” He growls. His unoccupied hand wraps firmly around your neck. He forces your back into an arch. Taking advantage of the new angle he pounds into you, the pleasure that rolls through you is dizzying. Your legs try to close but he forces them open. Your mouth hangs but you can’t bring yourself to make a single sound.

“You look so fucking beautiful. So gorgeous.” He breathes out. Your eyebrows once furrowed from the shocks running through you with each thrust now furrow in confusion.

”Look at yourself, look how beautiful you look getting fucked by me.”

You open your eyes, looking around trying to figure out what he meant. He forces your head in the right direction and your eyes land on the reflection of the two of you off the window.

It was hard to make out, fuzzy but from where you lied you could see your faces. His hair was stuck to his forehead, his lips parted briefly before his jaw clenched, your mouth still hanging open, legs wide. Your pussy clamps down on him when you see his hand between your legs and his cock disappearing into you. He moans and you watch as he nips your shoulder and then nudges his nose into your hair.

”Squeezin’ the life out of me, darlin’.”

The sight is so pornographic a new wave of wetness comes over you. He slips in and out of you with a delicious slickness.

Without warning you begin spasming around him. The first one comes and the second takes a moment. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, his fingers work you through the whole thing as your deep convulsions let you feel him fully.

He cries out behind you, his deep moans fuel your release further on. You chant his name and he falls over the edge spilling inside you. He slows his movements, thrusting his cum into you. He twitches inside of you repeatedly, giving you months of pent-up lust.

He slows to a stopping point while kissing your marked skin. He holds you for a while until his breathing stabilizes itself.

He lowers your leg and slides out from behind you, climbing over your spent body and disappearing for a moment. He returns with a wet rag, cleaning you up before himself. He rounds up the soiled rag in the discarded blanket that somehow got into the mess of fluids.

He slides your shorts over your legs letting his fingers run along your heated skin before lifting your limp body off the couch and carrying you into his bedroom.

”You’re sleepin’ here for the rest of the night.”

You barely acknowledge the change in location already falling asleep in his arms.

He places you on his soft bed and takes his place next to you.

The warm covers and his arms are the last thing you feel before falling into a deep sleep.

He tangles his body with yours giving you one last kiss.

You had no idea, but from that moment on you were his. Only his.

#Simon Riley #Simon ghost riley #ghost #simonghostrileysmut #simonrileysmut #codsmut #simonrileyxreader #simonghostrileyxreader #ghostxreader #ghost x reader

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biggestxsimps · 1 year

Text

Short Reader Headcanons

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Male Reader

A/N: This was requested over on our Wattpad, I hope it's alright! Also I'm sorry that it's so short!

- When you were first introduced to the team, you had mixed reactions of course.

- You knew why, it had been something you had been insecure about your whole life.

- The men in the room towered over you, you knew they wouldn't take you seriously.

- You were lucky to meet 141, they seemed to be the only soldiers who believed in your fighting capabilities.

- Especially Ghost, he would watch as you sparred with the others, practically always coming out on top.

- The two of you also went on a lot of missions together, your height being a great stealth advantage.

- You hid yourself better than the others could and made much less noise when moving.

- Now, Ghost didn't speak much, but the nods he would send from afar would be enough to understand his impression of you.

- Being different from the rest was difficult, it made you an easy target.

- And a few of the soldiers thought it would be hilarious to pick on you.

- They started to tell you things you had heard so many times before, even dragging down your capabilities.

- You tried your best to not let it get to you, but they had surrounded you, not letting you leave the torment.

- Just when you felt yourself beginning to crack, a rough voice interrupted their amusement.

- You watched as Ghost gave a stern glare to the others, threatening to discharge them if they continued their behaviour.

- The terrified soldiers apologised before scurrying out of the area, leaving you and Ghost.

- "You tell me if they continue, I'll have 'em out of here before you know it."

- You nod, before thanking him.

- "You shouldn't take what they say to heart, you know what you're capable of. Don't let those idiots dictate your strength."

- You rise at that, appreciating the over-due kind words. "I know"

- He nods at your response before leaving.

- Since then, Ghost always took your side, always having your back when you needed.

A/N: I think this'll be my last Ghost fic for a while, I'm kind of losing interest in him and it's getting a little hard to write for him. 😭

Masterlist

- Written by Owner 1

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biggestxsimps · 1 year

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Unspoken Words

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Male Reader

A/N: I haven't played cod in a while so this is probably a little inaccurate. Ghost is kinda(very) ooc but that's alright.

PART 2: Heard Feelings

Price had ordered both Y/N and Ghost to camp out near a building he had been suspicious of. The other members perched in front of their own buildings. The men had been waiting out for a few hours now, the night now growing much darker.

The two agreed to take turns at being awake, Ghost was up first. He had his sniper rifle propped up and his face near the scope. Y/N had just gotten comfy beside him, resting his head on the backpack they brought. He bid the other goodnight before quickly dozing off, leaving the other to his own thoughts.

He couldn't help but glance at the sleeping man, watching the calm expression he didn't have the pleasure of seeing often. It wouldn't hurt to have his eyes off the building for only a few minutes, right?

He pulled his face away from the sniper, instead leaning down in a more comfortable position, now gazing over you. He felt his heart skip a beat. There was so much he wished to tell you, so much he wanted to say. Let you know the feelings he felt for you. He just couldn't muster up the courage to do so. He sighs as he looks back at the building, reprimanding himself for watching you like a creep.

A few minutes pass of him continuing to shift his gaze. He groaned before taking a deep breath. Taking a quick peak towards you to make sure you were still asleep before starting. "I don't know why I'm saying this, you can't hear me." He looks back through the scope, keeping his eye on the building now. "But you make me feel weird, a weird I haven't felt before." He lets a breath go. "I hate it."

"I hate that I'm constantly thinking about you, that I'm always worried about you." "I've become reliant on you." He shakes his head. "I can't believe I'm doing this. You're not even conscious." He quickly stumbles out as he checks to make sure you aren't, before continuing. "I want you, no," He corrects himself "I need you."

A/N: I had no idea how to end this so if you want a part 2 where Y/N heard him or something like that, I wouldn't mind doing it.

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- Written by Owner 1

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nymahjoie · 7 months

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Day three of #kinktober '23, featuring f!oc, Ghost, and bondage.

[ao3] / text in read below

Niamh understood the desire to let go after a hard day. Hell, she often had to be forced to take a break and decompress when she got too in her own head about work. It could be quite freeing to relinquish control, if done right and with the right person; to be able to trust another to be able to care for you in that way. At least that’s how she saw it and if she could offer that–be that–for Simon, whether it be a gentle hand on tense muscles or her head between his legs. Maybe that’s what kept drawing them to one another, two people with issues in control needing the other to balance them out, to see when they had gone too far. An odd symbiotic relationship.

They had spoken on limits early on in their relationship. For Niamh, it was no pissing, no Daddy/Mommy shit, and sure as hell no impact. For Ghost, it was similar with the addition of not being forced into anything with a hard limit on suspension and soft on being tied up. They each had their own reasons and didn’t press the other to explain why, just agreed not to push those boundaries. There were, however, days when Ghost would request to be bound.

“Within reason, only if I ask,” he’d said the first night he asked, Niamh’s eyes lighting up at the opportunity.

So when the text came through from Ghost saying he’d be in Poole around 2030 and to have her gear prepped, she didn’t question the reasoning behind him being so far south. The grapevine said the 141 had recently been deployed, classified yadda-yadda (when wasn’t it with their respective branches). Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if he purposefully flew into Bournemouth just for this. Maybe he’d just tie it up into a work trip by telling Price he was scouting or something. Whatever his reasons were, Niamh set to work organizing a mental checklist of what all she’d need. Most of it was kept together in its own bag, but it didn’t hurt to be sure it was all there and ready.

She messaged back, albeit excited at the rare opportunity.

> You’re lucky I can get away for a night

>> Cheeky bint

>> You’re lucky I like you

> Pog mo thoin

> Send me the details already

After dismissing her team for the day, she was quick to return to her quarters for a shower and change of clothes before packing a light weekender with the necessities and her kit, then heading out to meet up with Ghost.

He’d chosen the same hotel they’d stayed at before, even managed to get the same room. Why not? After all, the memories were already there. Maybe they could act as a placebo to help him relax. That or he was more caught up than he fully realized–in this being their oasis, a tether just for the two of them in the middle of the tumultuous sea that is their military responsibilities. Ghost didn’t keep much for himself, wasn’t a selfish man, but with Niamh and the way she managed to erode her way into his mind, he’d allow it.

Maybe that’s why he was okay with being a hundred miles from home and coaxed out of his clothes by gentle hands and an even gentler voice. Laid on his stomach with firm knuckles massaging along his back. When did she have time to keep them so well maintained, he wondered, though the thought is lost when his wrists are drawn together with paracord cuffs, black and white, slid over them. Ones she braided just for him. The plastic closures click shut and the silver rings are brought together by the metal tink! of a snap hook.

Niamh was slow about easing him into it. No sense in rushing things and stressing him out more. It’d just negate the whole thing. She’d do this each time, remind him of his say in this, that she was offering a safe place for those bottled-up feelings to be recognized and felt. Whatever stresses, anxieties, or tension could be let go of and he could allow himself to be cared for.

“You good?” Her lips pressed to the back of his shoulder.

He grunted, turning his head from the mattress. “‘Bout as good as I can be.”

She nodded and helped bring Ghost up into a sitting position, moving to stand before him with an affectionate smile. Short, rounded nails scratch through his hair to tilt his head back. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re here to work on that, isn’t it?” His eyes fell shut, head leaning into her touch. God, it was good to see the stoic persona drop. For Ghost to fade away like the tension in his muscles and allow Simon to just exist, to feel.

“I’m good,” he repeated, eyes remaining shut, “You can start whenever.”

“Okay.” Another nod from her. Niamh tamped down her excitement, the urge to bounce on her heels as she reached for the coil of rope in her bag. It wasn’t often she was given this chance, to allow her skills to shine, but she couldn’t rush this. As fun as it was for her to have Ghost under her, this was about him and the time he’d allow himself to be vulnerable. Maybe there’d be a day where she could convince him to have a little more open fun with it, to let her creativity shine through. For now, though, she’d settle for simple rope work and knots.

She took her time securing the first row of black rope across the front of his chest and around his upper arms, guiding his arms to stack behind his back. One loop after the other, snug knots securing his wrists to the lower row of rope hugged around his ribs. A no-nonsense box tie. Even the basics could be fun in their own way, keeping Ghost’s hands from wandering when they shouldn’t while still offering the security of pressure on his body.

The dark rope was a beautiful contrast to his pale, scarred skin. No wonder he always wore black. The color suited him like no other could. “Aren’t you a sight?” Niamh told him as such with a look of admiration both at her own work and at the sight of him bound and sitting at the edge of the bed. “Almost makes me wish I could do this more often.”

“Almost, Lieutenant-Commander.” He chuckled dryly, a push for the upper hand despite his current situation.

“Uh-uh,” she took his chin in her hand and jerked it up, “none of that, now. Same rules for you as they are for me. No mention of rank or work. Hell, not even a word of the world outside these four walls. Understood?”

There was silence for a beat before his head tipped down in a nod. “Clear.”

“Grand.” Her stern expression effortlessly melted back into one of sweet affection. She didn’t need to play hardball here; this wasn’t an exercise in control but an exercise in letting go. Her hand moved to the back of his neck, thumb idly tracing his hairline as she waited for his shoulders to ease once more. “Not too tight?”

“Mm, no.” Simon’s head tipped forward to lean his forehead against her ribs to hide the flush that crept on his cheeks at the intimacy of his position. This wasn’t exactly a sexual endeavor for him, instead a rather intimate trust exercise. “It feels…nice. Familiar.” he mumbled against the fabric of her shirt, punctuating with a kiss to her sternum. She hummed in response, one he could feel reverberate through his head.

“Green, then?”

“Mm.”

“Words, Simon. Since you can’t use your hands.”

“...Yes. Green.”

“And you’ll let me know otherwise?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” Niamh settled down onto the edge of his lap. close enough to tease but not enough to give him any friction. Her hands settled on either side of his neck, fingers curling around the back of it to trace firm circles to massage away the tension there and a smile curling up on her lips when he groaned a curse. “There you go. Just relax; let go for me, Simon.” Always using his name to help further ground him, to separate man from mask, in moments like this.

Lower and lower her hands moved, making him gasp and tense in the right ways, until they rested at his waist with her nails curling into the pale skin there. “Fuck, Vee,” he breathed a groan, leaning forward to press their foreheads together, “Need to feel ya.”

It killed him to not be able to touch her, to not be able to participate like usual. She chuckled and shifted her hands back up to hook two fingers beneath the lower row of rope across his ribs, using the leverage to shift herself forward. “That better?”

He answered “Yes” in a whisper, closing the distance between their mouths in a firm kiss. SImon’s brow furrowed when its not reciprocated by a matching movement of lips, but instead a grin.

“Not much patience in you, hm?”

“Niamh, please. I’m not much feelin’ like beggin’ tonight.”

“Too fuckin’ bad, hun. I’m not going to just roll over for you just because you asked.” Even if it sounded like music to her ears to have her name and “please” be uttered in the same sentence so quickly. Even if she wanted to tug her clothes off and get on him then and there. No, there’d be time for that later after she’d drawn him under at least once and got him out of that tough head of his.

Instead, she traced a teasing line just under the rope with a fingernail, barely giving the contact he desired. The little bounce from hardening flesh against her thigh isn’t missed. “Been a while, hasn’t it? Few weeks, a month? What, you haven’t found a pretty little thing to keep your bed warm when I’m not around?”

“Wouldn’t be the same.” He grunted, stomach tensing as her nails trailed lower past his ribs, the patch of hair below his navel, to the base of his cock.

“Aw, you do like me.”

Simon groaned, hips pressing up into her hand. “Obviously.”

“I know.”

It didn’t need to be said out loud, they both knew it. An unspoken understanding of their feelings for one another, even if exclusivity wasn’t expected. They were busy after all, not often able to steal time away when not stationed together. But that didn’t stop it being difficult to think of another on lonely nights. Maybe that’s why rendezvous like this were becoming more frequent.

Niamh pushes off his lap to kneel between parted legs, cheek resting on his knee as her fingers curl around him, applying pressure with each finger. pinky to index, then repeating again and again until his leg twitches beneath her cheek and she has to loosen her grip to accommodate him in her hand. His head lulled forward to watch her, a stifled moan rumbling in his throat as her lips teased his tip. Slowly lowering her head, she glides her tongue along the underside of his length, taking inch by inch further in her mouth until she can’t take anymore, using her hand to fill the remaining space.

Up and down her head bobbed as he grunted and cursed, focusing on his breathing rather than how much he wanted to thread his restrained fingers through her hair and guide the movements of her head further until she gagged around him. His breathing picked up more. Shit, it really had been awhile if he was already far too close to finishing down her throat.

“Vee,” he warned, eyes fluttering, but she didn’t stop. No, she only pulled back just enough to take him in both her hands and lick and tease at the head until he was moaning her name. Pathetic in the sweetest way when he’s lost in it. A few more swirls of her tongue before she pulled her mouth from him to look up and see his eyes squeezed shut.

“Hey,” she urged, voice hoarse, repeating back a phrase he’s pulled on her so many times, “Eyes on me.” She doesn’t bother wiping the drool that trailed down her chin and neck, soaking into the collar of her shirt, as her head dips down to invite him back into her mouth, moving her hands to his thighs, nails digging in. Her eyes lock with his as her head moves down then up.

Simon gasped, “Fuck.” His shoulders hunched forward, arms straining against the black rope.

Down, deeper, and held there longer. Up, tongue trailing the length.

Down, up. What he wouldn’t give to bury himself there in her throat.

Down, up. What she wouldn’t give to have friction between her own legs to ease the growing throb.

Down, up—but not quite. His body shuddered, hot white half spilling down her throat and half shooting up her nose and onto her cheek.

“Goddamn, Si,” Niamh coughed, a smirk on her swollen lips. She pushed up to stand before him again, taking his head in her hands to lean down and kiss him, allowing him to taste himself on her tongue. When she pulled back, it took Simon’s eyes a second to focus in on her, making her chuckle. “Don’t go getting lost on me yet. How’re you feeling?”

“Fuckin’ perfect.” He panted, trying to find some regularity in his breathing. “Green.”

Her eyes flitted over his features, looking for any signs of discomfort he may have been hiding. Satisfied that there were none, she closed the distance between their mouths again. “Good, ‘cause you aren’t done yet.”

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