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callsign-datura · 22 days

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you are literally the best cod writer on this app. hands down. I was wondering if you could write simon and reader getting a noise complaint the morning after he literally makes dents in the wall from the headboard slamming, reader whining, you choose the rest. your writing is literally art 💋

EHEH ARE YOU SERIOUS 🥹🥹 squealing, blushing, kicking my feet 🤭🌷

MDNI. flashbacks of rough sex, sexual language !!

you couldn’t help the butterflies that ricocheted off the walls of your stomach when your husband shot a coy smirk over his shoulder at you. the feds were at the door — clipboard in hand. “sir, we received several noise complaints throughout the night and into the early hours of this morning. . .”

oh.

‘ungh~ tha’sit, lovie.” he croaked against the shell of your ear — the moist, matted foliage of his pelvic bush kissing your swollen clit with ever piston of his drilling hips against yours. “missed ya s’much, darlin.” his voice, husk and dry, reverberated against your sweat-damp temple where gentle pecks left affectionate stamps in their wake. “feel so good squeezin me like that, mmf~”

“oh yeah?” your husband responds, feigning oblivion. “y’sure they was complainin ‘bout us, lads?” they nod at that, peering past the hunk of your husband to acknowledge your smaller self. “yes, sir. said it wasn’t the first time.” they look back to simon, dragging their eyes up his six-foot-something bulk. “apparently this happens whenever you come home.”

“that so?” simon irks them, his pride potent in his tone and stature. “what’d they tell ya?”

“missed you, si!” you whined, nails raking down the taut flesh of his expansive back. “so big!” you complemented, eyes performing somersaults within their sockets. “so good!” and it was. your husband’s thick cock had never felt better; solid pudge rocking into the soft slope of your now no-doubt pregnant stomach whilst his girthy prick went to town on your innards. you mewled, slender digits clawing the memento of that night into his muscular body as his vigorous movements bashed the headboard into the wall behind.

“your neighbours heard a loud ‘banging’ from about dinner time onwards, mister riley.” one officer informs him. “yeah, and what sounded like screaming up until 4 the ‘morrow.” the other adds. you know your husband’s ego just grew ten sizes bigger, his dick likely swelling also. “really?” simon humours them, smirk blatantly present as he says so. you giggle, hand flying to cover your mouth as an embarrassed flush taints your cheeks a raw maroon.

“s-simon! the wall!” you cried, wept. blissful tears poured from your hooded eyes as you craned your neck backward — the paint on the wall crumbling as the metal frame of your headboard collided with it with each of his aggressive thrusts. “leave it.” he grunted, fucking into your exhausted pussy with increased force. “let the whole fuckin’ house tumble down.” hissed into your gaping mouth; tongues tangling and saliva accumulating. “let everyone know who’s fuckin’ you dumb like this, yeah? makin you scream ‘til you cum nice an’ hard.” and you did — milking his fat prick dry as a ring of cream slickened around his hairy base. “cum on this cock, love”

“just thought we better have a look ‘round, if you’s don’t mind.”

simon looks back to where you’re watching with a blush. “not at all, officers.” he winks, to which the heat that blushes your flustered face dives southbound to narrow on your throbbing cunt. “c’mon in.” and of course he directs them upstairs first.

“you can do it, sweet’art.” he groaned into your moaning mouth. “let ‘em hear ya.” his pace picked up, inflated balls bouncing off the underside of your upturned arse as he hammered his heavy cock against the roof of your bruised cervix. “let ‘em know who’s home.” your eyes rattled until their whites were visible, pupils rolling back to stare your brain down when his weeping cockhead bumped into your cunt’s velvety roof — pre-cum mingling with the cream of your impending climax. “that’s it, love. hug me nice and tight.” you let out a strangled squeal at his words, voice breaking whilst he battered your smaller frame into the creaking mattress. the bed frame shook, swaying back and forth in tandem with his zealous rhythm. “gonna wake the neighbours.” you slurred through spit-covered lips — red and puckered. “good.” simon retorted, muffled by the slaps of skin ploughing skin.

“how did this happen?” one of the cops asks, gesturing to where the wall has eroded. the plaster beneath reveals exposed brick where next door attaches to the structure of your abode, loose wiring and pipes hanging down. the headboard is dented, the paint from it now transferred onto what remains of the wall behind. “wear ‘n tear.” simon shrugs, slinging a lazy arm around your shoulders. you lean into him, legs still aching from last night. “besides.” he adds, slyly pinching your backside. “was happy to see the missus.”

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callsign-datura · 29 days

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quit talking.

frustrated simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader warnings: smut, obviously. mentions of putting a muzzle on you, not dealing with feelings, unprotected sex, bro is def a tits man (he sucks on em), oral sex (f recieving), light choking, creampieee a/n: 1k? how the hell?? thank you! :)

If there's one thing you know how to do, it's piss Ghost off. It's not really fun to you, it's more of a competitive thing. He's been in this line of work for much longer than you have, but you've been in it for long enough that you should be treated like a valuable ally than an untrained soldier, or a rookie. But for Ghost, that nickname has stuck. "C'mon, rookie, get your head straight."

"Eyes up here, rookie."

"Are you listenin', rookie?"

Your blood boils every time the word slips from his mouth. Every time he does it, you keep yourself from snapping at him. You put a smile on and follow his directions.

But sometimes it isn't so easy.

He orders you around, and tells you what to do; like a lieutenant should. Yet for some reason, you feel your chest tighten when he gives you an order. You know damn well it's a personal issue. Probably some feelings you haven't dealt with yet that you aren't ready to deal with. But you butt heads. You can tell that your defiance pisses him off and the flicker in his eyes makes something in your heart surge; something you tell yourself is satisfaction. Recently, it's been worse... maybe it was the mission last month where you were stuck in a closet together and he couldn't keep his hands to himself, or the fact he acted like it didn't even happen after. Probably both.

---------------------- "Rookie."

That damn nickname again. You snap quickly, against your better judgment; but he can't blame you. It's been a hard day of biting your tongue. "How long have I been on this team, sir?" "Not long enough to be givin' me so much attitude." He snaps back just as quickly, and usually it'd be enough to extinguish that fire, but today, it's not.

"It's been two years." "Two years of you talking' like you've known us for ten. Sorry to burst your bubble," he barks, turning his body to you as you recognize that look in his eye that you shouldn't be messing with him today. "You haven't. I'll keep callin' you 'rookie' until you get that in your head." His arms hang at his sides, his fists idly clenching and releasing as he steps towards you. "You got a problem with that?" Your eyebrows knit together and you tilted your head back as he gets close, his upper body curling to lean over yours and stare you down. Cold, brown eyes staring into yours; something that would normally give you chills. But not today. "Yes, actually, I do. I'm not a rookie anymore, I've been working with you long enough to the point I should have earned the respect I deserve." The words are slipping out. You realize how stupid it sounds and how you should have just been quiet and stopped fighting, but it feels good to get it off your chest. So you keep talking. "I'm a valuable asset to the team. I'm a good medic, a good ground unit, I'm damn good with a knife and I have good survival skills. I think those are grounds for respect from my lieutenant. Everyone else treats me well, but you." He rolls his eyes so strongly that you think it probably hurts. "You wanna know why they treat you well, rookie?" He retorts, his voice low and husky and raspy. His face is inches from yours and your senses are flooded with him; it's almost enough to get you to forget about why you were fighting in the first place. "It's 'cause everyone else knows that bein' nice to you and lettin' you act like a proper twat is better than tryin' to discipline you. You act like a child and they let you because you're too damn stubborn to get through to." The words piss you off again, and you open your mouth to respond, yet nothing comes out. "Don't." He warns. "This is ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? I just want to be respected." "Nobody gives you shit anymore, rookie, but me. It sounds like you're mad that I'm the only person who gives you shit and doesn't let you get off easy."

"Because it's bullshit-" "I only give you shit when you're actin' like this." The glimmer in his eyes changes, and it becomes something you can't entirely put your finger on. "I only give you shit when you're yowlin' about 'not being respected' when you know damn well you are, you're just angry that I'm mean to you." "'Cause you are!"

"I am because I know that's the only way you listen." He says, his voice returning to something stable. "It's like you hate me."

Oh. His eyes flare again, this time with recognition. "That's what this is about? You think I hate you?"

"Well, sometimes..." Your voice lowers and you avoid eye contact with him, trying to focus on anything but the monster of a man in your proximity. "Sometimes it feels like it."

"Really? And that's why you're constantly puttin' up such a fight with me? 'Cause you think I hate you?" His voice turns... amused. Jesus Christ, he's enjoying this. "Yes, and--" You try to retort, but you can't think of anything. Your mind blanks. "And..." Embarrassment burns hot on your cheeks and you shut your eyes. He chuckles quietly. "That's fucked, sweetheart. You're not gonna believe me, even if I talk till I'm blue,"

"As if I could see." You snap, looking away. "...N' even if I talk, you'll interrupt me." He chuckles again. His voice tenses a little as if he's irritated. He grabs your hand and starts leading you somewhere and you start talking again. "I don't know where you get off on being rude like that." He laughs, in disbelief. "I could ask you the same thing." "You haven't said anything to me about that mission," you begin. Your voice is shaky. These are untrod waters, but you want an answer. "Not a damn thing. Not a text, hell, you barely look me in the eyes." "Mm." He responds, his voice higher-pitched, once again with recognition. "So it's that, too." He glances back at you, and you barely even realize where he's leading you until he pushes open the door to his quarters and pushes you inside, stepping in too, and shutting the door behind him. "You're mad about that? That we haven't talked about that?" You open your mouth, but the surprise doesn't let you say anything. So you nod, looking around the room. It's bland. Very... Ghost. "I haven't said anythin' to you about it 'cause even thinkin' about it makes it difficult for me to see you in a professional light." He pauses. "It shouldn't have happened. If anyone finds out, it'd be me taking advantage of you,"

"That wasn't what happened, though. I was asking you--" "Quit." He snaps, his hand coming up to cup your chin and hold your jaw, urging you to stay quiet. "Quit interruptin' me, fuck. You talk a lot, you know that?" His other hand goes to the zipper of your jacket, pulling at it and unzipping it. Your eyes flicker down to watch his hand, and you stay quiet.

He chuckles again and shakes his head, his eyes wide with disbelief and amusement... some mix of the two. "Now you're quiet. When you're gettin' what you want. Dunno what I expected." He lets go of your jaw and pulls your jacket off, tossing it to the side and turning both of you, backing you up against the door.

"I don't hate you... Quite the opposite." He murmurs, his voice softening. You watch as his thumb hooks into the bottom of his mask, pulling it over his nose as he leans in and puts his other hand on your waist. He goes for your neck, and you tilt your head instinctively. More than happy to obey. "It's jus' the fact that this is entirely unethical. No matter how we put it... it's unethical." He kisses the flesh of your neck, lips dancing along the softness there, testing for any sweet spots. He nips when he feels you tremble. "...Now that isn't to say I didn't enjoy it... 'cause I did. I dream about it, pet," his voice shakes and his grip on you tightens. "Fuckin' dream about it."

The vulnerability at this moment makes your body heat up. Warmth is building in your lower stomach, and a soft noise leaves your lips as you tilt your head back against the door. Your back arches as his breath ghosts your neck.

"Dream about you... n' this body, n' your voice, and your whimpers. I look at you, and I remember." He starts kissing your neck again. They're rough, and his breath is hot. You tremble again as his lips travel down, stopping at your collar as he reaches and slips the strap of your undershirt off your shoulder, and kisses the span of flesh that's been uncovered. Tongue darting out, following the contour of your collarbone, teasingly; leaving tingles in its wake that send heat straight to your cunt. "Makes it so goddamn hard to treat you like you're my teammate and not a person who haunts my dreams."

Another noise leaves your lips, and his hands slide up your sides, bringing the fabric of your undershirt with it. You lift your arms to let him, and you lock eyes for a moment. His are sparkling with lust, and he chuckles before his hands travel up your back to unclasp your bra. He pulls it from your body and drops it to the side, and his lips are on your flesh again. He nips at certain spots, nibbling gently and sucking deep marks into the flesh. His kisses go from your collarbone to your breast, and his lips close around your nipple. Your body tenses and goosebumps prickle over the flesh of your chest, and you tilt your head back again, legs pressing together as his hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. His tongue laves over it, sending tingles of pleasure through you as your eyes flutter shut and he grunts against you. His teeth nip at it gently before he releases it, switching sides. His hands slip down your sides and move to your pants, undoing the button of your jeans and tugging them and your panties down around your legs, detaching from your nipple to do so.

His gaze is immediately dragged to your cunt, and he hums low in his throat before he looks up at you. "C'mon, dove. Give me a taste, mm?" He asks, teasingly; but meaning the question entirely. Your expression twists in embarrassment, but your desire for him overrides any hesitation. And you nod. One of his hands cups the underside of your leg, lifting it up and to the side as he litters kisses along the inside of it. Having him so close to you makes your entire body shudder and a moan leaves your lips, your hand coming down to cup his head as you watch him. It's a lewd sight, but the view makes you tingle. He bites down lightly and a whine leaves your lips as you lightly swat his head. He chuckles in response and looks up at you, pulling away from your thigh to litter kisses over your cunt. You're wet enough to the point he can fucking see it; and your face flushes a bit more in embarrassment and you tilt your head back. You shudder, tilting your hips forward and chasing a bit more friction... and he delivers. His tongue darts out, dragging up between your labia to catch your clit. Your body shudders and you give a sharp whine. The feeling is electric, and you already feel something building in your stomach, yet you try to suppress it in turn for just feeling the sensation. His other hand comes up and his thumb pulls at the flesh, lightly spreading you out for his convenience, his lips closing around your clit as he grunts and the vibration of it turns into straight heat and makes you twitch. He sucks gently and you mewl, your hips shifting away from the unfamiliar sensation, forcing him to detach before he pulls you back in and clicks his tongue.

"Come on now, pet. You wanted this, didn't you? Stay still." You whine in affirmation, looking down once again and gasping as he buries his face into you once more. He dips his tongue into you, and his eyes roll briefly as he grunts at the taste of you; something that he'd get addicted to easily. Hell, he's already addicted to you; why not? He pushes his tongue into you for a moment, groaning again. His grip on the underside of your thigh tightens and he brings it upward a bit more, resting it over his shoulder as his hand slips up your tummy, giving the pudge there a little squeeze before he switches his attention to your clit, lapping his tongue over it slowly and gently. Each swipe sends heat into you, your walls clamping around on nothing, moans leaving your lips as he keeps his head buried into you. The sensations are mounting and he laps his tongue a bit faster to elicit more reactions from you.

Your hips buck into the sensation and a squeal leaves your lips. His hand slips back to cup your hip, pulling you further into him as he laps at your clit again and again. The hand keeping your labia spread shifts downward, and you jolt as he presses his middle and pointer finger against your hole, circling the flesh to gather your slick. The movement of his tongue stalls for a moment until he pushes his fingers into you, and he laps again, but much faster this time, grunting out in satisfaction at the way your walls flutter around his fingers and suck them in more. Moans leave your lips and your body tenses up, a cry leaving the moan before you shift down a little to push into his fingers. He curls them, feeling along your inner walls slowly and gently to find that spot that'll make you quiver, and he does; your hips buck again and you cry once more, the pleasure overloading your senses and rendering you to a whimpering mess. He laps away at your clit again, eating like a man starved; curling those two fingers on your g-spot and rubbing his fingertips against it slowly, gently.

The sensation causes the cord in your tummy to tighten. It doesn't take more of his assault to throw you over the edge; he continues, with an increased fervor upon feeling you tense around his fingers and hearing your noises take on a desperate edge. He pulls you closer, grunting into your pussy as you cry out and ball your hands into fists, grinding a little into the friction as your vision goes white and you sob his name. You continue, riding out your orgasm and whimpering his name quietly. His movements stop after your noises quiet, and he withdraws his fingers and pulls back to look up at you, making sure you're looking at him before he pulls his fingers apart; showing you the string of your fluid that connects them between breaking. He chuckles a bit and stands up as he looks you over. Your eyes flutter shut and you whimper softly, tilting your head back. Your body relaxes, but not for long as you hear a zipper being undone. Your eyes open just as he turns you around and pins you against the wall. One hand against the wall between your waist and your arm, his lips on the back of your shoulder as his other hand comes to your waist, pulling back you back against him. You give a surprised noise and he chuckles. "What? D'you think we were done?" You don't respond, and he hums. "Good. 'Cause we aren't." He pushes against you as you arch your back, your eyes widening as you feel his cock pressing against your cunt; a whine leaving your lips before he pulls his hand from your hip to wrap around the base of him, adjusting himself to rest the tip of his cock against your hole, watching as you flutter around him. He chuckles softly at the sight, and puts his hand on your lower stomach, slowly guiding his hips forward. His cock slips into you with ease, and you feel a faint stinging pain from the stretch, but the full feeling his cock gives you distracts you from the pain. It's familiar, almost; like your body remembers how he fit inside you. Your slick coats his cock, making the fit a bit more easy. He groans softly into your ear, the feeling of you around him more than heavenly. "Fuck. S'fuckin tight. Mm... like you were made for me, hm?"

He grunts quietly as he feels you pulse around him, and he tilts his hips slightly, cupping your lower tummy as he grinds into you testingly. A whine leaves your lips, but you don't stop him. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you feel some sort of sense of relief at finally being filled; by him. His breath fans over your shoulder as he grinds into you slowly, rolling his hips into yours; pulling out a bit before pushing forward and rubbing his hips into yours. He continues like this, one hand sliding up your front and wrapping around your throat, a gentle hold that keeps your head still. Your eyes keep shut, eager moans leaving your lips as you push back into him. For a few moments he continues this movement, just reveling in the feeling of your cunt around him before he begins thrusting. Slowly, at the same pace, raking his cock in and out of you, sending shocks of pleasure through you as you tighten a bit around him, eliciting groans from him. His movements speed up and the hand on your lower stomach slips downward, his middle and ring finger rubbing circles over your clit. You lurch a little and give a little cry, still feeling a bit overstimulated from the previous activities.

That sensation leaves almost immediately as he thrusts into you quickly, the sounds of your bodies together filling the room amongst his groans and your squeals. You lift one of your legs, tilting your head against the wall and his grip on your throat tightens as he starts rutting into you; the feeling of you is getting to him as much as the feeling of him is getting to you. Your moans increase in pitch, and your mind is scrambled by the pleasure. Your walls quiver as he continues, bullying into your cunt. He's chasing his high, and the circles he draws on your clit also increase in pace. The cord in your stomach draws taut, signalling your incoming orgasm; you can tell by his pace that he's close too. "Fuck-- Gonna cum." He warns into your shoulder, yet his pace doesn't falter.

You whimper and your chest tightens at the thought of him pulling out; wasting his cum like that. "Inside," you babble out quickly, hands balling into fists against the wall. "Please, inside." You stutter over your words as he continues thrusting into you, but he understands you immediately.

You don't have to say it twice. After a moment, he bucks into you up to the hilt, and a shaky groan leaves his throat as he cums; hot, thick ropes that flood your cunt with his spend. The sensation, mixed with the feeling of him rolling his fingers over your clit is enough to make you cum as well, and you cry out, walls quivering on his cock before tensing, milking him. Your body trembles and he pulls his hands away, holding you close to him, hums of affection leaving his throat as he thrusts into you a few more times before his movements stall. There's a bit of content silence before his voice breaks it. "Still think I hate you?" You pause, then you murmur in response shakily, "Mnh-mnh. Thank you..." "You're welcome, pet. But next time you need my cock, say it instead of being a brat." "Then the next time you dream about me, tell me." "...deal."

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #callsign datura #ghost cod #simon riley

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callsign-datura · 1 month

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denial. imagine just sitting with simon on the couch. not watching tv, just laying there and listening to the rain hitting the roof. he's on his back with his shoulders against the arm of the couch, his head lolled back as you're sprawled on top of him. he likes cuddling with you on top; likes the warmth you provide. although simon is almost always warm to you, he always feels inexplicably cold. your soft warm body wrapped with his is the perfect solution to his consistent cold temperature. your fingers toy with the strings of his hoodie, wrapping it around your pointer finger and tugging it a little as you move further up. you never sit still, he's realized. always squirming. "quit movin', luv."

he warns quietly, tilting his head forward to kiss your forehead. you give a quiet whine in response before you settle into his broad body's warmth. your hand leaves his hoodie string, and you wrap your arms around your torso, fitting yourself snugly against him. his hands slide down from your back to your hips, and his thumbs slip into the hem of your shorts, resting on the curve of your hip bones and rubbing small circles. he hums to himself at how warm you are, and you whine at how cold his hands are. he chuckles in amusement, his hands leaving your hips to cup the back of your thighs and bring you further up, straddling his lap a bit more. you follow his lead and shift forward, legs resting on either side of his. you shift your hips a little into his, and you feel that warmth pooling in your belly. you act on the feeling, and you pepper little kisses over his chest and take his wrists, guiding his hands to your ass. he follows suit and cradles the flesh, kneading the fat for a few moments before he shifts and sits up, cocking his head forward to ghost kisses across the span of your neck. he breathes a little sigh as you grind against him, your warmth transferring to him and melting his worries away. a little whimper leaves your lips as your grip tightens on his arms, the warmth pooling in your belly further as you feel him shift underneath you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.

"c'mon, dove," he murmurs, his tongue darting out to travel along the length of your flesh. he feels you shudder, and a smirk curls his lips as you grind against him a bit more. his grip on you tightens and your movements stutter. he gently pushes you off of him, and you exaggerate the movement, falling on your back towards the other end of the cushion and huffing out. "hey!" you exclaim, lifting your head and sitting up. confusion is etched on your face and he chuckles. you note that sparkle in his eyes as he crosses his arms and leans back. "not now, eh? we were havin' a moment, and you come n' make it somethin' else entirely." he teases quietly, his eyebrows coming up as his gaze travels your face. your eyebrows knit together, and he rolls his eyes, the smirk never leaving his lips.

"show me how bad y'want it, pet, and maybe I'll indulge ya."

#simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #ghost cod #simon riley x you #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 1 month

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what teh fuck made this so popular?

okay but. simon riley's dick. it's not a monster when it comes to length. 7 inches or so. but it's fucking thick. wide. thinner at the base, flares out up to the tip and has an upward curve. every time you and him fuck, it feels like how it did the first time you ever had sex; and if he's been away for a while? it downright stings. but the sting is lost on you when he hits that gummy spot inside you over and over. even tone from the base up. soft pink at the tip that flares an angry red when he's too hard for his own good. he has a few veins, specifically one thick vein along the underside. otherwise it's relatively smooth. he doesn't let his pubes get too long. usually keeps himself trimmed, does a bit of extra work before a date with you and he knows he's going to your place after. at first, he's a slow fucker. slow, gentle thrusts as he holds onto your hips. he rocks his hips slowly to let you get used to it, let the sting fade away. once you start making those whimpery noises, he speeds up a bit. and when you start begging? He forgets about being gentle. switches positions during sex. treats it as an activity for you two to bond, likes the idea of holding you close. likes missionary, but he likes doggystyle more. enjoys pinning you against a wall and holding your hands together as he grinds his hips into yours over and over. he's not vocal, at least until he gets close. when he knows you're about to cum and you start squeezing on him, he says the dirtiest things and laughs when he feels you squeeze even harder. he loves asking questions, expecting no real answer but a pathetic whimper and a moan. "you like that, love? like how it feels when i fuck you stupid? look at that look on your face... fuck, you're tight. squeeze me any harder and i'll fill up this pretty pussy. mm, you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

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callsign-datura · 1 month

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no but I'm legit thinking how long reader would be grounded when they see a glimpse of price's tummy and ask "how many months old?" with a shit-eating grin on their face.

a/n: sorry for the late answer. appreciate the ask, anon. fucking lovely

"How many months old?" Price stops dead as he leans back in his office chair, the hand under his shirt over his stomach coming to rest over the little pudge there. His gaze darts to you immediately and his expression hardens as you stare at him with that stupid grin on your face, your gaze flickering from his face to the bit of tummy you saw while he happened to be stretching. "'Scuse me, love?" He asks, his eyebrows knitting together as he leans forward. He wants to be offended, but he knows you too well. You're just fucking with him, being a brat like always. "How many months old?" You ask again, leaning back, subconsciously attempting to escape the metaphorical bear you've just poked. "You got some pudge there, Cap. First trimester? Pregnancy's a bitch, huh?" He shakes his head and scoffs at your audacity, leaning back again. A bit of anger bubbles in his chest anyway at the little remark. "I ain't pregnant." "Doesn't look it... might wanna do a pregnancy test. You never know!" You say quickly, getting up and then darting out of his office. His gaze flickers to the place you once sat, then the door you left through. He scoffs again, shutting his eyes and stroking his beard as he decides the punishment he'd give you for this. Cleaning duty would work, he decides.

#price x reader #john price #captain price #captain john price #price mw2 #price cod #daturadrabbles

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callsign-datura · 2 months

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thinking of simon listening to metal. in my silly little delusional American brain i like to think he listens to certain bands i like but probably not,,,,

#simon ghost riley

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callsign-datura · 2 months

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Hcs or works for a touch-starved reader dating 141+ Alejandro and Konig? She never initiates but the second they cuddle with her or put a hand on her waist she just gets embarrassingly turned on?

Ghost was a little surprised. He could tell that you craved physical intimacy, but you never once initiated it. You always lingered, always leaned, always stood near-- but you never said a thing about what you wanted. He started taking note of it a while into your relationship after he became comfortable with physical intimacy. Each time you cuddled, you were always pressed tight to him; clinging onto him for dear life, it seemed like, as he dragged his calloused hands up and down your back. To him, it was a gentle moment, one where he was quietly demonstrating to you that he loved you. To you? Jesus Christ, you were DROOLING. Your eyes were screwed shut as you shuddered through the feeling of his fingertips on your bare skin, a breath leaving your lips as your grip tightened on him almost barely. He took note of this change in behavior almost immediately, and his eyes fluttered open and he looked down at you. His left hand slid up your shirt, sending you shuddering once more as he cupped your waist with his right hand. He leaned down and kissed your head, and he felt something in his chest bubble whenever he heard that little whimper that left your lips. "Gonna tell me what y'want, babydoll, or are you gonna suffer in silence?" Price always felt like your behavior was a little odd. He never said anything about it but he noticed it. The way you trembled in his hold as he cuddled you close to his chest, the way you whimpered when he put his face in your neck and the stubble on his chin grazed your soft flesh. The way that you'd shift back against him just a little whenever you were the little spoon, the way your grip on his wrist would tighten when his hand drifted southward; he could tell, and he liked it. Liked hearing those shuddering breaths, liked teasing you about it until you were huffing and puffing about how mean he was. It was one of the nights you were cuddling. You had your back to his chest and he had his chin resting on your shoulder. It was a normal cuddling session, one you always shared before you fell asleep. His touch was getting to you, as it always did. He took notice of it this time and decided to go further with it. His hand drifted underneath the waistband of your pants and panties, and he littered little kisses over your shoulders. He tensed up a moment upon feeling how wet you were, and a strained hum left his lips. "Christ. This turned on from a little cuddling, love? What m' I gonna do with you...?" Soap, bless this boy, he was oblivious for the longest time. Oblivious to the way you squirmed and shuddered and whined in his grip, always equating it to you being you; playful and restless. It took you alluding to it very strongly for it to click in his head. When it finally did, he didn't say anything; just decided to play on it. Spent the day holding your waist, your hips, putting a hand on your back or cupping your face when he got the chance, laughing to himself each time your face flushed and a breath left your lips. He knew he was going to make it up to you. He just wanted to see if your little problem was as bad as it seemed.

You were definitely on edge the entire day, and when you finally got to be alone with him, he was immediately making out with you... intent on making it up to you. "M'sorry, dove, gon' make it up to ya, okay? Jus' bear with me... wanna make you feel good now." Gaz could tell something was up. He knew immediately and immediately had to say something about it. The conversation wasn't... embarrassing, per se, it was just interesting to see his response to how you felt and how his actions affected you. Gaz is always a very physically affectionate person. Holding you, caressing you, kissing you when he can; and to hear that those little things turned you on so goddamn easily? He was thrilled.

He loved being intimate with you. It was an experience he adored; he loved being able to bond with you in that way, loved being able to be so close to you. Knowing that this would just make way for more passionate sex... ...So he started playing on it. Teasing you with this shit-eating grin on his face about the entire thing, running his hands up and down your sides as he kisses your shoulders and his eyes twinkle as he looks at you. "Mm? What's wrong? ...Again?" Konig... He also knows. I mean, you were never necessarily subtle about it. He picked up on it right away and at first decided to give you some grace. Less touches that could set your body alight, more nearness rather than touching. But he found himself missing your body heat, missing the way your flesh felt underneath his hands, missing the way you shuddered and panted just from him holding you. Trying to make a situation less difficult for you quickly ended up starving him of what he needed from you so badly. So he decided to give in to his desires, and yours. It happened one night when you were both lying in bed. Content with being near each other yet craving something more, Konig's head tilted in your direction and those baby blues of his sparkled as he shifted a bit closer to you. Draping an arm over your midsection, he held your belly and kissed your shoulder, trailing them up your neck as he nuzzled his face into you, taking in your scent and feeling the tent in his pants grow more by the second. He grunts quietly. "I can't do it anymore, Schatz. Have to have you..." Alejandro is a very passionate lover. Expect to have sex often. It's not very often your needs go unnoticed, however, as he quickly notices the look on your face when he holds you. His hands on your hips from behind as you make a meal, his face buried into your back as he breathes in your scent and whispers sweet nothings to you, enjoying the closeness. You'd told him about your little habit, so it was always present in the back of his mind how you'd respond to these little displays of affection. Your body tenses, and he feels your muscles flex underneath his grip. His hands travel from your hips to your abdomen, his thumbs rubbing along the flesh and cupping the curve there as he sways you back and forth. He pushes against you from behind teasingly to see how you respond. When you gasp, he feels a sense of pride come over him. "Something you need, cariño? Use your words... I'll be happy to make you feel good if that's what you're craving, mm?"

#141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #price x reader #price cod #soap x reader #soap cod #gaz x reader #konig x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #141 headcanons #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 2 months

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Hiya! I hope you're doing well, I really really like your writings, I was wondering if you'll do a second part to the "ghosting fuckbuddy ghost" wherever it's to get him to apologize to reader in person, a happy ending or just making amends, have a wonderful day!☆

a/n: thanks! appreciate the love!

He'd been trying to contact you for days. Literally days. Texting you. Not trying any of your social medias because he had no idea if you had any other accounts and at the time he didn't give enough of a shit to figure that out. He was thinking over the development of your entire relationship and kicking himself over everything. Kicking himself for being so goddamn stupid as to fuck up the best thing in his life, kicking himself for being so rude to you... He'd made peace with the fact you probably wouldn't want to be with him anymore.

His texts... he tried his best to make them seem remorseful. Not that he wasn't feeling remorseful, because he definitely fucking was, but he was trying his hardest to portray that in one of the least reliable formats possible; but the only one he could use. He didn't expect a text back but he was hoping for one.

He was sitting in his living room, a book in his lap and his phone in his pocket when he felt it buzz. He took it out of his pocket to check the notification, and his heart sunk... a text from you. "you fucked up, simon. i appreciate the fact you're trying to make up for this and apologize but i can't accept it knowing you'll just take this for granted again." He immediately opened the message, and started typing in a response. "i realized that i fucked up. i know i took you for granted and I'm sorry. you don't have to give this another try and I'm not expecting you to by any means, i just want you to know that I'm sorry. so goddamn sorry for not realizing what i had before it was gone and so goddamn sorry for bein an idiot. if you were to give me another chance i'd do everything in my power to make sure it wasn't wasted." He pressed send, and he watched as the message bubble appeared on his screen, then the text beside it changed to "read". His heart sunk further and he put his phone down, waiting for your response. A moment later his phone buzzed again. "i can't do this unless you're willing to give a relationship a try, or at least go out on a few dates with me. i can't deal with being your fuckbuddy." The word 'fuckbuddy' stung his heart. His vision blurred for a moment but he couldn't help but be filled with a sense of hope at your response. "does 'going out on a few dates' mean starting over and giving this another chance?" No response for a minute or so... "i think starting over would be the best thing for both of us" He stopped for a moment. He blinked and released a relieved breath. "you wanna go out for coffee sometime, then? whenever you're free" A smile spread across his lips as he shifted in his seat and read your response. "i'd love to." "how does tomorrow at 6 sound?" His heart swelled.

"yeah, of course. tomorrow at 6." He put his phone down and he rubbed his face, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he tilted his head back. He was more than happy at the fact you were willing to give him a chance... and he vowed to himself that he wouldn't fuck it up this time.

#simon ghost riley #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost mw3 #ghost x reader #simon riley #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 2 months

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simon would love puzzles

for real. it's something about doing them. slowly finding the pieces that fit together to make a bigger picture, the simple joy of seeing it come together. when he does them with you? it's even better. the way you make a noise when you find pieces that fit together, the sparkle in your eyes that he shares at the image starts to come together... it's a hobby you share and boy does he fucking ADORE watching you do them. after a while you've learned to do them faster and faster, and sometimes he has to remind you to slow down so you don't finish it faster than you can start to enjoy it.

every time he goes to a store, he keeps an eye out for an aisle that has puzzles. finds ones that have your favorite animal in them, or ones that have landscapes. starts buying puzzle glue and framing them in the house. smiles at the sight of them and is reminded of how you guys love doing them; together.

#callsign datura #ghost mw3 #cod ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #daturadrabbles

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callsign-datura · 2 months

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made me feel better for like half a second?? bless

SIMON X PLUS-SIZED S/O | HEADCANONS

warning(s): N/SFW (18+), smut/fluff/slight angst, implications of fatphobia, insecurity, body image mention, petnames, size kink (not for reader)??, softdom!simon, afab/fem!reader

w.c: 0.7k

˖⁺‧₊˚ MAIN MASTERLIST ♡ GHOST MASTERLIST ˚₊‧⁺˖

i'm a firm believer that SIMON loves plus-sized partners. he's not the most experienced with relationships, but above all, he enjoys bigger bodies most. so soft between his calloused hands. and warm — which is the perfect aid for his awful circulation.

and god forbid you have any qualms about your size? whether "thick", "chubby", or "fat", he'd never mind. call him crazy, but nothing hits the spot like a cushiony lover to thaw his stubborn heart. oh, how he tried to treat you the same as the rest, deflect and avoid the attention entirely. but there was something so radiant about you. as if your body was meant for him. to hold, to appreciate, to claim — to love.

SIMON grew tired of the superficial propaganda, frankly. no time for it. tomorrow isn't guaranteed for anyone, but especially not for him. for years, he felt trapped in a slump of wasted time, wasted potential. wasted emotions. bitterness for the sake of it, with no gain.

he found sweetness with you, inside and out. every inch of skin, all the bends and indents, ridges and curves that covered you. the stretch marks and cellulite that reminded him of paintings he'd seen in foreign countries; women's buxom bodies worshiped with each stroke of the brush.

once he had you, he knew he had to keep you. earn you. remind you every single day how breathtaking every bit of you was. in some ways, SIMON understands what it's liked to be loathed by nearly every passing stranger. the crinkled noses, squinted eyes, and taunting whispers that seem to follow him everywhere. but you? not a chance in hell he'd let you feel that again.

learns how to spot the signs of discomfort, which wasn't difficult since hyper-vigilance is his status quo. comparing yourself to others around, shrinking into your seat out of habit— that look of hurt in your eyes. he always gives a firm squeeze to your hip or hand, sometimes a faint whisper only you'll understand. "breathe, love." he rasps, not loosening his grip until your tense muscles relax.

even if not at the time or for several days, he always finds a way to reassure you later on. you're being seen by him, even when he's not always with you. there isn't a moment where he isn't yearning for more precious time with you. sometimes, he'll stand behind you in front of the mirror, chin resting on your shoulder. never breaks eye contact, unless you do first. raises his fingers to rest under your chin and adjusts your gaze until you're forced to admire yourself. "my gorgeous girl, look at her." SIMON whispers, pecking along your jaw.

he'd be lying if he said there weren't... other perks to the relationship. so much for his big hands to grip and enjoy, leaving marks for his eyes only the next day. crescent indents of his nails on the fat of your hips, reminding you of what you do to him. the night he had his pelvis flush against your backside, splitting you open on his length. the arch of your back, the jiggle of your ass and tits with every push of his hips. christ, he would do this forever if he could.

his hands often roam, finding purchase anywhere that will ground him. if he's not careful, you'll have him coming undone mere seconds after he is inside you. it's the vision of you; gaped mouth, slick with sweat and arousal, tummy squished against his firm build as his hips grind deep, hitting all your favorite spots.

god, and how you never seem to trust his strength fully. even when he's proved you wrong time and time again like you weigh nothing. and for him, you probably do. that sweet, bashful look in your eyes when he flips you over at the speed of light. or when he pulls you onto his lap, aching cock nestled between your thick thighs.

your hitch in breathing when he gives your plump pussy a solid smack — enough to keep you focused on the moment again. his thick fingers part your folds afterward, stimulating with your clit apologetically. "pay attention, baby. need you here otherwise 'm not gonna be able to cum. you don't want that, do you?" you can practically feel the smirk against your ear, using every ounce of strength within you to focus. he never makes it easy.

that blitzed expression never seems to fade, despite many, many nights of practice. is it wrong of him to hope it never does?

« divider cred. - cafekitsune »

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callsign-datura · 3 months

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putrid pride

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader warnings: ghost being a dick, unrealistic character, sexual tension, oral (f receiving), ghost not fucking you as a punishment for you being a little brat a/n: he's had me in a chokehold for the past year. i kinda want to do a character analysis series not gonna lie song: get stoned ~ hinder

Sometimes you wondered why Price assigned you to be his partner. He thought it'd be a good learning experience for the both of you. Since you were a sergeant you were bossed around by everyone else already, and you've only been there for a few weeks. In most missions you've been assigned, Ghost has been part of it one way or another and you noticed that he treated you differently than his mates. Whether it was the fact you were a woman or the fact you were a talented sniper, or what, you didn't know. He always made these little jabs at you that could be passed off as light teasing or playful banter. You felt a bit crazy for thinking he was being rude to you because he wasn't rude to anyone else; why you? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Damnit," he grunted, his back towards you. "You always fuckin' do this." His tone was laced with anger and venom, and your heart sunk. "You never fuckin' listen." he hisses, turning around and taking a few steps towards you. The look in his eyes pissed you off. You made the right decision, or so you thought. Sure, you disobeyed his direct orders and nearly got yourself killed, but you completed the objective and came back in one piece. You got the intel, confirmed the target's identity and best of all, did it quick and quiet. Why was he angry? You did everything you thought you were supposed to, but here he had you, in his office and standing in front of his desk and staring at him blankly.

"You never fuckin' listen, always disobey my orders despite th' fact your ass would be dead right now if it weren't f'me." His accent is thick, his voice steadily rising as he gets more pissed. "Jesus fuckin' Christ!" In truth, he didn't even know why he was so angry. Was it because you had disobeyed his orders again, or was it the fact you almost got yourself hurt? Or maybe it was the fact you did the mission better than he would have? "I don't know why you're so intent on breakin' the goddamn rules, but it's gettin' old." He snaps, brown eyes piercing yours as he splays his hands out on the surface of his desk, leaning forward so his face was inches from yours, his breath fanning over your face, hot and smelling faintly of alcohol.

"Look, Lieutenant. I may have disobeyed your orders but I saved lives in the process--" "Nearly losing your own." "But I completed the objective." "But you put yourself in danger." "I came back in one piece, didn't I?" "Barely. You escaped that goddamn explosion by a hair." He hisses through gritted teeth, leaning back and putting his hand in his pocket. "You're always so reckless. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?" "You're one to talk about self-preservation," you snort, your eyes widening slightly in disbelief at the mention. "Don't tell me you've already forgotten the time you hopped in front of a bullet to keep a sergeant from taking it?" His eyebrows knit together and his eyes narrowed. "I knew what I was doin', girl. Don't question me or my choices. It's not your fuckin' place to do so."

You snorted again. "Oh, yeah? Don't like it when I call you on your bullshit, huh? If you would have done this, we would have been expected to thank you and ignore the fact you could have been killed. But the moment I do it, you get on my ass."

"I am your lieutenant. I make decisions, you follow them. You don't question why I do what I do. When I tell you to do something, you do it without a second thought. When I order you to not engage, you do not engage." He spits, his eyes narrowing further and his chest tightening in barely contained anger. "You're lucky I don't fuckin' suspend you. The decision you made was a thoughtless, reckless and stupid one." "At least Price would understand where I'm coming from."

His eyes widen, and he laughs. "You think he'd take your side?"

"I think he'd understand why I did what I did. I think he wouldn't give me bullshit for making the right decision."

"Well, sweetheart, that's the thing. He isn't your CO, I am. So if I'm givin' you bullshit for makin' a decision, you stand there and take it and make a goddamn change." You shake your head and laugh. "I know what I did was right. I'm not going to stand down just because you think my execution wasn't proper." He's practically fuming now. He feels his chest tighten further, and he balls his hands into fists. "You're such a brat. For what? Just because you wanna be right?" He steps around the desk, moving and getting in front of you, his frame towering over yours. "You wanna be right so goddamn bad because you're new, huh? You don't want people to think you're weak, hm?" He leans in, his face inches from yours once again as his hands tremble at his sides. Your eyes focus on his brown ones, piercing with a newfound depth you haven't seen before. You take in a breath through your nose and against your will you take notice of his cologne; woody, citrusy. He's so close to you. You feel your body start to tingle a bit from the closeness and the tension.

"Oh, well, look at that..." His head tilts, his eyes softening for just a moment. "Now you've got nothin' to say?" He says, his tone faintly mocking as he backs you up against the wall. He's painfully aware of this situation and he's painfully aware of the source of these feelings, but he's refusing to see it. He's stubborn and he knows you are too. "Nothin' to fuckin' say cause I'm in your face?" He growls, his gaze burning holes into you. He brings his hands upwards and cages you against the wall, looking down at you with an intense mix of lust and anger. To him, it's just pure emotion and you feel slightly intimidated by this newfound situation. So, you do the only thing you know how to do. "Fuck you," you hiss, moving onto your tiptoes to get in his face in return. A chuckle leaves his throat in a growl and he doesn't back down. If anything, he finds this show of dominance to be... charming. Endlessly fucking irritating, but charming. Some twisted part of him wants to crush it; crush your insubordination, make you finally respect him. He takes in a breath and the hairs on his neck stand up as your scent wafts over his senses, and his eyes twitch briefly before he grunts and moves closer. "So fuckin' feisty. But we both know you've got nothin' more than bark." He murmurs, his voice raspy and low and with a tone that makes your heart thump in your chest and your cunt pulse between your legs. Despite yourself, you feel him leeching the fight from your body. You growl slightly. "You don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, your tone just as low as his as your gaze searches his for something other than this overwhelming lust.

"I think I do." He murmurs, tilting his head and leaning in so he's right near your ear. You ball your hands into fists. "I don't think you can fight me, cause you don't wanna. You like it when we get into this, don't you?" He questions, one of his hands coming up and cupping your cheek. "I think you like seein' me pissed. I think you like bein' a fuckin' brat 'cause you know it irritates me, an' you wanna see what I'll do..." He smirks, and you can hear it in the way he talks. "Well, I think I know how to solve your little problem now, eh?" He moves, his hand coming down and cupping your throat, applying gentle pressure to keep you against the wall as he moves back, pulling his mask over his nose and leaning back in to nip at your earlobe. You grunt and you feel yourself melting in his grasp. His other hand comes and holds your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt as he tilts his head and kisses at the flesh of your neck his hand doesn't engulf. Your body heats up and you suck in a gasp, tilting your head back slightly and unintentionally revealing more of your neck to him. "Mm-hmm." He murmurs. "Yeah, all bark, no fuckin' bite. You wanna be all tough? Takes more than just an act, sweetheart," he grumbles, words punctuated by rough little nips to the flesh of your throat as he withdraws his hand and slides it down your side and to your hips. He moves and lifts your shirt and once again, despite yourself, you lift your arms to make it easier for him. He throws it aside and his gaze travels over you hungrily, focusing on the curves of your chest and your waist, and the way your jeans sit on your hips. He grunts quietly and dives back into your neck, holding your hips and drawing you against him as he starts kissing and biting at your neck with renewed vigor. One of his hands slides to your ass, giving a little squeeze as he hoists you up, still assaulting your neck with kisses and bites. You whine out at him, the sensation making you shudder. He chuckles against your flesh and his other hand is already working at the button of your jeans.

He sets you down, working your pants and panties down your legs, tugging them off hastily before he's kneeling in front of you. A wave of embarrassment comes over you as he gazes up at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He grunts slightly and his gaze flickers to your cunt. He slides his hand up the back of your thigh and down before cupping your knee and pulling your leg up and to the side, humming in satisfaction at the way you follow suit and open yourself up for him. His gaze focuses on your cunt, glistening with your slick. You're soaked. He sees it, and he smirks and chuckles a bit when he sees your cheeks flush red. "Pretty fuckin' cunt," he murmurs, before leaning forward and letting his eyes flutter shut as he drags his tongue along your folds, letting out another hum as he tastes you. He grunts and his grip on your leg tightens, his free hand cupping your ass and squeezing as he slips his tongue between your folds and drags it upward along your clit. He swirls it with the tip of his tongue before closing his lips around it to suck gently, grunting as he tastes you and he feels you tremble. Your eyes roll back in your head and you tilt your head back against the wall, your hips arching forward in attempt to get more of that stimulation. He chuckles at your eagerness, giving your ass another squeeze. "Patience, dear." He murmurs against your cunt, before swirling his tongue over your clit with ease and pushing it down, teasing your hole with it before he pushes it inside briefly, moving back up to flick his tongue over your clit in a new pattern that has you trembling and whimpering in seconds. The hand gripping your ass comes to your cunt, and he rolls his pointer and middle fingertip against your hole, gathering your slick. You jolt at the feeling of his cool flesh and you whimper eagerly yet again, a harsh gasp leaving your lips as he pushes those fingers into you. Your walls make an embarrassingly wet noise as he sinks his fingers into your plush heat, and your face flushes and warms up. You're too distracted about how good it feels. He grunts in satisfaction once more, curling his fingers and brushing the tips against that spot along your walls that has your vision going white.

At the same time, he swirls his tongue a bit faster over your clit, using the opportunity of dual stimulation to send you spiraling. And he does, successfully. Your leg trembles and tenses, and your walls squeeze around his fingers as he laps at your cunt like a man starved. He grunts against you as you mewl and the coil in your belly tightens before releasing. Within seconds, you're coming undone on his fingers your back is arching, your hips are bucking, and your hands are pulling him closer. Your vision goes white and you throw your head back, your lips falling apart in a whine of his name, your fingers grasping at the fabric of his balaclava. Your walls tighten again on his fingers, and he helps you ride the orgasm out before he's gently pulling away and dragging his fingers out of your sensitive cunt. You pant and tilt your head forward, watching him withdraw his fingers from you. You whimper at the feeling and you tense up, your gaze flickering to his mouth. You're sensitive, but as you watch him kneeling under you, you find yourself wanting more. He smirks as he notes the way you're looking at him. It's taking a lot of restraint for him to not bend you over his desk and pound you senseless, but... he has a point to make here. He gets to his feet and he looks down at you, cupping your face and placing a chaste kiss to your forehead. "Get yourself dressed. Y've got some training to do." You swallow and blink up at him. "W-Wait... that's... it? You're not gonna--" "Fuck you?" He laughs, as if the suggestion is odd. Your face flushes in embarrassment. "Not after the way you've been actin', love." He murmurs, kissing your forehead. "If you start behavin', then maybe I'll consider givin' you what you really want, eh?"

#ghost x reader #ghost mw3 #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 3 months

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hi! so idk if you've already done this before but... cockwarming simon/price while they fill in reports?

simon doesn't do it that often. usually when he's too fucking busy to indulge his pretty wife's desires, so he offers to let you sit on his cock while he does reports. as soon as he sees you in the doorway, dressed in that silky lace slip you wear to sleep, he's leaning back in his seat and patting his thigh in a silent order to get your ass over to him. when you're standing between his legs, he has his hands on your hips, feeling you up and going over your curves, the pudge of your belly and relishing in the way your soft skin feels in contrast to his calloused flesh. his fingers grip your hips and he makes a soft grunt as you pull his mask up, crawling into his lap and straddling him, your back arched so pretty. he feels the plush of your tits against him and he's drooling, the ever-building heat in his body growing as he cradles the curve of your ass and pulls you into him. he scoots forward in the chair, your arm locking around his neck and your other hand coming between your bodies, unzipping and unbuttoning his jeans and taking out his cock. semi-hard, you give a few lithe pumps before you're lining yourself up. he jolts when he feels your bare cunt against him. "no panties, mh? dirty girl," he clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips and guiding you down on his cock. it's a slow movement, and he's grunting as he sinks into the plush of your heat. your cunt tightens around him and flutters before releasing and he sinks himself further into you, the full length of his cock nudging into you. the head knocks against your cervix and you're panting already. he wraps one arm around your waist as both of your arms lock around his neck, and he goes back to filling out reports, his chin set on your shoulder and his eyes focused on the boring paperwork in front of him. though his mind is dragged to the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him occasionally, he tries his best to get the work done so he can fuck you right. sometimes he'll buck up into you just to hear you whine, the hand around your waist gripping your hip to stall you as you try rocking yourself on his cock. he can't help talking to you, though, encouraging you to stay still; cause he knows it gives you butterflies when he does, and he loves feeling your velvety walls tighten on him. "c'mon, pretty girl. jus' a bit longer, then i'll fuck you proper. gonna have you spread out on m' desk in a bit, promise..."

#simon ghost riley #simon x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost mwii #ghost mwiii #ghost mw3 #ghost smut #cod ghost #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #callsign datura

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callsign-datura · 3 months

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"my big bear" JESUS CHRIIIIST

BARRY SLOANE as Joe ‘Bear’ Graves in SIX (2017—2018) Episode 1.02 Her Name Is Esther

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callsign-datura · 3 months

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callsign-datura · 3 months

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Heyy

So what about Simon Riley with an independent f!reader

Like she’s just so used to doing things on her own (her being me)

Anyways here’s a flower for u 🌹

thanks for the flower dear! simon 'ghost' riley was independent too. he was used to taking care of himself, leaving no room for anyone else and just being on his own. he wasn't scared of being alone. in fact, he enjoyed it; his alone time charged his social battery and it gave him time to focus on his hobbies.

it was odd when he saw you. you were independent too, quiet and just like him in many ways; it was only normal for you both to drift together as if it was fate. he found himself believing that it was; you were his fate.

when things got serious, he started dedicating things to you. he understood how difficult it was to allow someone to care for you and in the same way he was beginning to allow you to take care of him, he was implementing small ways to care for you. making dinner so you didn't have to, washing your laundry and sorting it just how you liked, leaving money for you to go out and do things. it became normal for you both. he was a bit more open and dependent on you for certain things, but you were a bit more withdrawn, and he understood that. it was hard, and allowing himself to be like this with you was taking a leap of faith.

he gave you time. time to adjust, grow, and flourish; and he couldn't explain how much he loved seeing you depend on him for things. of course, you still both had things you needed to do on your own, and that was a mutual agreement between you.

it was a night when everything had gone to shit for you that he realized that you'd finally adjusted to his presence.

---------------

You swung open the front door with an exasperated sigh, the wind from the outside brushing into the warm house like a cold front. Your eyes stung with tears from work stress, and your footsteps were heavy and tired as you entered the cozy home. You shut the door behind it and rested your back against it, tilting your head back and taking in a deep breath to let yourself release some of the emotions that built during the day. Your boss is a dick, spilling coffee on your favorite work dress, getting reminded of some tragic things that happened in your past--

"darlin'?" You were drawn from your thoughts by the familiar voice of your boyfriend, and you blinked blearily at him as your eyes focused on his form peering out from around the corner. His gaze was concerned, and though you couldn't see much of his face due to the mask he always wore, you practically felt the worry wafting off of him. His hulking frame stepped out into the hall and proceeded towards you with silent footsteps, those brown eyes focused on you as a wave of relief and appreciation fell over you. Tears stung at your eyes again and as soon as he was at arms' length, you embraced him. You never really hugged him that often, and it was odd for you, too. Though as his arms folded around you and you felt the warmth and safety of his hold, your face nuzzled into the bulk of his chest.

"s'alright, love. let it out. 'm here, yeah?" He murmured to you, placing a kiss on your forehead through the fabric of his mask. The tears spilled before you could stop them, and your chest heaved against him as your breath hitched and your grip tightened on him. You balled the fabric of his hoodie up in your fists, and you pulled him closer. Being in his arms was such a relief, you were cursing yourself that you didn't do this sooner... before it got to this point.

A mix of concern and relief welled in his chest as he held you. He rocked you side to side as you sobbed into his chest. Once your cries were muffled, he held you a few minutes longer before pulling away and cupping your cheek, tilting your head back and wiping away the tears from your red cheeks.

"tell me what happened, lovie," He began, his voice low and raspy but so fucking comforting. A few more tears fell and he kissed them away, pulling back so his gaze could focus on yours.

"don't wanna," you responded simply, burying your face back into his chest with a little pout in an attempt to lighten the mood. "boss was just being a dick, and... work was just so overwhelming." your voice was small and meek, and his heart swelled at the sound of it. His chest rumbled with a laugh, and he stroked your hair as he held you.

"well... les' forget about that. you get changed and take a bath, n' I'll order takeout while you're in there. we can watch a movie, too. how's s'at sound?"

You nodded, sniffing quietly. "jus' hold me a bit longer... please?"

He smiled under the mask and he nodded. "however long you want me to, i will. i'd hold you for eternity if it meant y'were safe and happy in my arms."

And he meant that.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost mwii #ghost mw3 #ghost mwiii #ghost x reader #ghost fluff #callsign datura

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