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maryangelex · 1 month

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hey hey !! I just read your recent ex husband price fic and it’s EVERYTHING , your writing is impeccable 💕

I was also wondering if i can request angst/hurt no comfort ex-husband price! Is it bad that I kinda want to see this man suffer ?? 😭

a/n: thank you so much anon!!!! and ofc you can because...i too love a man in dispair D: something about price in shambles just mmmmmmm delicious!!!

i hope you love it :D (maybe cry a lil)

c/w: afab! reader, divorce, angst, hurt no comfort, grown man crying, alcohol use, fertility issues, age gap

He should have known better than to take you for granted. He shouldn't have anticipated you'd be fully okay with his line of work and everything that came with it. He should have made more of an effort to be there for you rather than feigning ignorance about how you were feeling, how lonely you had been, how difficult it had been for you to be alone when you needed him most when every pregnancy test would come back negative, or the pregnancy wasn't viable.

Instead, he'd come home to you pretending there was nothing wrong between you two. You gave him the benefit of the doubt time and time again; this was the way he coped coming back from missions, by coming home to the 'perfect' life he had built with you. You don't know what hurt you most, the facade he put on that everything was fine and dandy and there was nothing to be resolved or the cold shoulder he gave you when it was just too much for him to put on a fake smile.

He should have taken it as his cue to drop the act and be the husband he swore to be the second you brought up divorce. And instead, he kept his mouth shut, nodded his head, and gave you a mask of understanding. Once again, being passive about your marriage because too much of his energy had been put into his work. Not only that, but he already knew how much of a failure he had been at being your husband.

He knew you were too good for him since the very beginning. He was too old for you who had just started your life. He was too busy to even begin dating you, much less marry you. He was mentally (nor physically, really) not fully there to provide for you.

So when the divorce was finalized and a year passed, it was no surprise to see you had moved on. You looked happy in the pictures with your new beau, happier than he had ever seen you leading up to the divorce; maybe since after your honeymoon. Your smile was radiant and wide, your skin glowing, and your eyes glinting with newfound hope that this other man would be the husband you really deserved. He knew you deserved better, accepted it, even.

He dwelled on the fact that he failed you at providing you the love and dedication he vowed to you at the altar. The warm feeling of whiskey had become more familiar on his lips than the feeling of your lips.

He missed you like hell, he couldn't think of anything else he wanted back more. He sobbed himself to sleep thinking about how he let you slip between his fingers and lost you, his precious wife. The thought of being with another woman made his skin crawl, feeling repulsed by it. He requested extra missions to get away from the city and the apartment you two shared, but only got himself extended leaves for his mental state.

At the two-year mark, he found himself sick of moping and grieving and decided it was about time he took action. Moving on to someone else was not an option; it was you or nothing. When he picked the pieces of himself back up and could finally stand on his feet, he made his way back to you.

He hadn't heard from you since he saw that picture of you and the new guy on your social media, but he got in contact with your mother and she willingly gave him your new address. And when he stood at your doorstep, a bouquet of tulips in hand and his best attempt at a smile, you opened the door to him and it hit him like a trainwreck.

Seeing you with an infant on your hip made his knees nearly buckle.

"John?" was all you could say, and the sound of your voice after so long made his ears ring.

John Price was a man of steel, a man with infinite courage who braved terrorists and bullets aimed at him. But the sight of you with the babe he couldn't give you, the love he couldn't fill you with, the life he swore to provide and failed to, made him lose any will to live that he had gathered in the last year.

#cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod fanfic #fanfic #john price #headcanon #price mw2 #captain john price #captain price #price #price x reader

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maryangelex · 1 month

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im gonna say something weird and i fear judgement but...

big burly men (the 141) wearing your lace panties :/

#cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod fanfic #fanfic #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost riley #john price #soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #john price cod #captain price #price mw2

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maryangelex · 1 month

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they fuel me like crack cocaine

hey could y'all do me a favour?

Reblog if you're okay with "weird" compliments on your stuff!

things like "biting this" and such

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maryangelex · 1 month

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Please, please, please.

I am requesting an Ex!husband John price/ Fem!reader, where they divorce and he’s absolutely devastated by it, grovels and upset that he lost the love of his life, and then years later by circumstances are in force proximity with each other and have to deal with communicating all their grievances and then bam heated smut and pent up frustrations at each other, and then get back together.

Thank you so much and I really appreciate you! But it’s also okay if you skip my request :)

a/n: anon how could i possibly leave this delectable prompt unanswered!!?!?!?! i have literally been saving this one for almost last because i need to use 110% of my prune brain its so amazing. one thing about me is...im a whore for ex-husband!price *clutches pearls* im sorry for making ya wait, i hope you love it!!!

this is gonna be a long one!

c/w: ex-husband!price, make-up sex, forced proximity, quickie, against a wall, p in v, creampie, john price yearns for his pretty wife

It hadn't been easy, no divorce is easy, really. Much less when it was something you didn't really want to do, but more so saw yourself as needing to do. The nights without John had gotten too lonely, his side of the bed had gotten too cold. You thought the times he was back would make up for the times he wasn't. When John came back from deployment it felt like a coin toss: sometimes it was your honeymoon all over again, but other times he was cold and distant.

You had two kids in tow; two kids that needed their father. You were a wife that needed her husband just as much. You don't blame him for not being there of course. After all, you owed it all to him; all you ever wanted he got for you, he provided you a house to raise your children in, to grow old in. He gave you nothing but unconditional love. That's what made everything harder when you decided you couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't keep hoping he'd come home to be his normal self every time just to be met with the shell of the man you fell in love with.

You knew it wasn't his fault, you knew his line of work. But having to be alone the majority of the year plus having to still be alone when he was around had gotten to you, it had become too much. And John knew this. When you told him through sobs and wails that you couldn't do this anymore, that you felt hopeless and alone and like this was the only remedy, he understood. He had packed his things and left without a fuss, leaving you the house and renting an apartment barely a drive away. He tried to make it as simple as possible, arranging to stay with the kids every weekend and more if you needed time for yourself. His silence and compliance to separate felt like more of a dagger in your chest than the reason to separate to begin with. You wished he had fought for you, that he had yelled at you and argued with you to stay and fix this.

Little did you know that when he found himself in the empty single-bedroom apartment he rented himself he did nothing but cry like a neglected child for hours until his eyes stung and couldn't physically push out any more tears. John Price was a man made of stone and yet he found himself clutching his chest as he sobbed for his wife nearly every night and every lonesome morning. He kicked himself for not fighting for you, as well. He blamed himself for having to come to this in the first place, for leaving you alone and not knowing how to cope well enough to be the very best of himself when he came back from grueling missions. For not being able to look you in the eyes after losing a man, for not being able to open up to you and cry like this in front of you when he needed to let it out of his chest, for not making love to you like a tending husband should at his wife's every whim.

He felt like the consequences of choosing his career had finally caught up to him, and losing you was his penance.

The two of you finalized your divorce quietly and without struggle, feeling like it only drove the knife deeper into your chest. You settled on the kids seeing John every other weekend and he'd be more than welcome back home to be present as their father. Because that was the thing about John: he may have not seen himself as a good man (not good enough for you, for sure) but you both knew he was the best father your kids (and you) could ever ask for.

It's been a year since your divorce; John had been living in his separate flat whilst you and the kids stayed home. He'd come every week, and take the kids every other weekend. Now your oldest's birthday was a few days away and who were you to deprive him of coming? After he had been doing such a good job at not crossing your boundaries, at being a loving father and giving you every bit of warmth and kindness and love that he gave you when you were still together...the more you listed these things the more your heart ached and you doubted yourself. The more you realized you still loved him.

On the day of your kid's birthday, he made sure to get there extra early to help you set up the place. He bought the necessary supplies, picked up the cake from the bakery, and set up the chairs and balloons. Hell, you barely lifted a finger. And of course, he was more than happy to do everything and anything for you with that cheek-pulling smile of his. As the party went on and the house filled with guests and wild kids running about, you scrambled around the house to make sure no one needed anything. That's when John intervened.

"Everythin' alright, hon? Been runnin' round the house like mad," his voice was sweet like honey as he entered the garage, where you were taking out can after can of soda from the spare fridge and into the cooler with ice you brought with you. You didn't turn to look at him as you sighed in exasperation, but you could feel John just a few steps behind you.

"Just making sure everyone's got something to drink...the sodas've run out in the cooler outside and--"

"Everyone's havin' a good time, love," John cut off your rambling with a light chuckle, the rumbling of his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He interjected by taking the cooler from your hands "Let me get that for you," he said, lifting the heavy plastic for you. You sighed again and brought the back of your hand to rub your forehead. You finally looked up to meet his eyes, which were gazing at you with so much adoration it made your stomach twist.

"John..." you started, and he responded with a furrow of his brows and a silent question. "Please don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like you still love me," you blurted, and the beat your heart skipped let you know you physically regretted saying that, instantly.

John's lips pressed into a thin line as he paused for a moment in silence.

"I do still love you," he confessed. You shook your head in disbelief and scoffed.

"John, please, it's our kid's birthday," you dismissed as you turned on your heel and made your way to the door except-

Right, you now remembered why it was a rule in your house this past year to not close the garage door: the lock was busted. You gripped the knob firmly and gave it one, two, three harsh tugs, hoping to somehow force the door open. You banged the door with your fist in frustration, hoping maybe someone heard it on the other side but all you heard was the music playing on the other side.

"Let me have a go," John said, placing the cooler down and tugging just as harshly, even slamming his shoulder against it to see if it would budge, but nothing. You and John were trapped in your garage. You let out a groan and a quiet curse as you pinched the bridge of your nose with a hand on your hip.

John placed a hand on your bicep. They were cold from the ice but the squeeze and rubbing of his thumb on your skin was filled with warmth.

"S'alright, take a breather, hon," he said tenderly, "they'll miss us soon enough to come lookin' in here."

You nodded as you stepped away from his touch. You never stopped John from still using terms of endearment for you, it never felt like a big deal. You were frustrated from the party, the perfectionist in you wanting nothing but to give your kids the best party, and now you were locked up in the garage. To make matters worse, you were locked up in here with your ex-husband who just said he still loves you.

"I meant what I said, love," his voice was barely a whisper but it still brought you out of your thoughts.

"John..." you warned.

"No, I mean it," his tone rose, firmer this time, "I still fuckin' love you, baby."

"Well, it's too late for that now, isn't it? You're gonna make an effort now, John, a year later?"

John was silent, pleading blue eyes gazing at you, the muscles in his jaw tensing.

"You didn't fight for us, John. You didn't fight for me." your finger pointed to your chest firmly as you looked back at him with tear-filled eyes.

"I know, baby, I know," his voice shook in his throat, "I should've fought for us... I should've been a better husband to you, better dad for the kids I-- I should've just been there."

You were quiet as you choked on a quiet sob, the tears escaping down your cheeks.

"I haven't stopped loving you for a second, my only regret in life is not having fought harder for you, having let go of you so easily - fuck," you watched the tears prick his eyes as he stepped closer to you. His palm came to cup your cheek and his thumb wiped away the tear staining your cheeks.

"I failed you. I just...please, baby, I just want one more chance to be a better man for you... I just want my girl back." His tone was soft as if he was reciting a prayer kneeling at a pew. His other hand came to the other side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear before it cupped your other cheek alike.

You sobbed and brought your hands up to his wrists, shaking your head lightly, knowing all you really wanted was to forgive him despite your denial.

His forehead pressed against you as he whispered once more, "Please, baby..."

"John..." you tried

The tip of his nose rubbed against yours, "Please," he repeated, "be my pretty wife again...be mine again, yeah?" His lips brushed against yours and his hands were firm on your cheeks. You sobbed one more time before his lips pressed against yours, slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. And fuck, you melted as your lips met.

His lips against yours just felt so right; they were your husband's lips, after all. They were made for yours and yours were made for his, that's why you knew you were so perfect for each other. The way he kissed you made your chest break into a million pieces because you just missed him so much.

The hold on his wrists became limp and you didn't resist - you couldn't resist his kiss because you wanted it so desperately, you've wanted it for this entire past year.

Your mouth moved with his, lips clashing and caressing against each other, teeth clicking together with the force of your desperate kisses, your tongues hungrily pressing their way into each others' mouths. John's hand slid to the back of your head, fingers snaking into your hair and raking through your scalp. You hummed into his mouth at the feeling.

Your hands slid up his back, balling into fists over his shoulder blades and gripping the fabric of his shirt as if you'd lose him again if you didn't hold him firm enough. You held him impossibly close to you as he did the same, your bodies familiarly molded to each other.

You felt John step forward as he still kissed you, backing you up into the nearest wall and it made the heat in your core ignite like a bonfire. When you felt the cold wall against your body, you pried your mouth away from his to gasp a breath but it wasn't half a second later before he captured your lips again. His hands slid down the frame of your body, pawing at your chest and curves before eagerly bunching up the skirt of your dress around your hips. You scrambled to his belt, clumsily and hurriedly doing your best to unbuckle it and undo his pants.

He scoured under your dress to tug your underwear down your thighs with messy urgency. His lips sloppily and wetly trailed up and down your chest and neck before finding their way back to your mouth.

Your hand palmed his hardened length through his boxers and he groaned into your mouth. One of his hands took hold of yours and stuffed it in his boxers to stroke his aching cock as you both panted between kisses.

"All yours, darling," he groaned as he guided your hand stroking his cock, "forever fuckin' will be yours."

And you whined at his words, or maybe at the way his other hand snaked between your legs, fingers wetting themselves with the slick pooled between your folds before pressing into your hole. He pumped his fingers in and out, making you reminisce on how those thick digits have made you feel so good in the past.

You moaned his name like a prayer, pleading for him to fuck you because you needed him. You've needed him for a fucking year and couldn't wait a second longer.

John would give you anything and everything, he always has. So he wasted no time in removing his fingers from your pussy, coating his cock in the slick they collected, and using his other hand to hike your leg up around his waist.

You braced yourself against the wall and with your hands against his shoulders as he practically lifted you off your feet and insert his girthy, swollen cock inside of you. You moaned unabashedly at the way he split you open as he bottomed out.

"So perfect...my perfect wife," he breathed, "made just for me, baby." His fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh and you were sure it would bruise the same way your nails clawing through his shirt were sure to leave crescents on his skin.

John pumped his cock in and out of you slowly but firmly for a few strokes before picking up the pace. His rhythm was relentless as he fucked up into you, pistoning his hips and making your skin clap against each other.

You threw your head back as you whined and moaned at the feeling of the head of his cock bullying against your cervix. Thank god for the music outside.

John hiked up your other leg, wrapping both around his waist as he fucked you against the wall hard and needy. His eyes looked deep into your teary ones, not breaking away to not miss the gorgeous sight of his pretty wife getting fucked by him after so long. He moaned at just the look on your face, at the way your walls gripped him like a vice.

"Look at you... never lettin' go of somethin' so beautiful," he practically slurred, his rhythm becoming sloppy and desperate as he chased his high, and he knew you were close too.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and took his mouth into another starved kiss. Your hands tugged at the hair on the back of his head and you let him fuck you with the same longing and desire as the first time.

You chanted his name between breathy moans as you climbed up to your climax. John was a mumbling mess of endearments and sweet nothings as he kept thrusting hard and sloppy into your squelching pussy.

"I love you, John," you choked out through tears, not knowing if it was from the pleasure he was giving you or from the overwhelming emotion being with your husband again was making you feel.

"I fuckin' love you more, dove," he accentuated his words with thrusts until he felt your walls clamp around his length and watched as you wailed and sobbed out more moans, sending him into his own climax with just a few more pumps shortly after. You were sure you'd bear him a third child with the way his cum seeped out of you.

He rested his sweat-coated forehead against yours as you both panted. You were a flushed mess against the wall, limbs liquefied and throat raw. John slowly let you down with the utmost care in the world, gently holding you up on your feet like you were a delicate porcelain doll.

You held each other close as he peppered soft kisses on your face, the same way he'd always done after sex when you were married. John Price, always the gentleman.

You basked in the afterglow as you gazed at each other, love filling John's wide dark pupils. It was hard for you to hide the smile that tugged at your lips and it made John chuckle, thumb rubbing your cheek lovingly.

Then, you heard the rattling of the door and you quickly stood up straight and collected yourself up on your feet the best you could. Kyle, or Uncle Gaz as your kids coined him, and the other two men had burst through the lodged garage door.

"Oi, how long you two been locked here?" he questioned.

"Aye, we been callin' youse for half 'n hour," the Scott quipped behind him.

John scolded them for not acting quicker if they were so worried, and scowled at the way the younger two had shit-eating grins plastered on their faces. He dismissed them as he picked up the cooler, which was now more full of water than ice, and shot you a look.

You chided at his smirk with your bright red cheeks.

"This mean I can move back in?" he teased.

"We'll see, John" you fought back a smile.

#cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod fanfic #fanfic #john price #anon ask #anon request #thanks anon!#price mw2 #captain john price #captain price #price #price x reader

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maryangelex · 2 months

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me and the gals talking about fictional men's cocks on tumblr dot com

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maryangelex · 2 months

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WIP Update!

okay so just wanted to give you guys a lil insight into what I’ll be working on/what will be getting updated or finalized, and some things I’d like to work on and get started on!

I have two more requests in my inbox: one is an ex-husband! price x f!reader fic, the other one is a 141 x gn!reader fic/headcanons.

I will be finishing the last part of Concupiscence and the last part of To Be Alone with You on my ao3

Maybe a new price x reader series?! 👁️👁️

And maybe just maybe I’ll expand my horizons into writing for Feyd Rautha 🫦 stay tuned

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maryangelex · 2 months

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I honestly might write a lil feyd fic just for my own self-indulgence…

you gremlins are crazy making fics about Feyd Rautha!! (I’m reading every single one of them)

#dune part 2 #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #dune 2024 #dune 2 #dune fanfiction #feyd x you #dune #house harkonnen #feyd oneshot

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maryangelex · 2 months

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you gremlins are crazy making fics about Feyd Rautha!! (I’m reading every single one of them)

#dune part 2 #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #dune 2024 #dune 2 #dune fanfiction

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maryangelex · 2 months

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I write all my fics with as little physical description of the reader as possible so everyone can insert themselves and be inclusive of all bodies, but! I always picture reader as a curvy girl with plenty of chub to hold onto; with muscles hidden under tender and cozy fat!

Especially my OC Maeve! And finding this art today on my Pinterest made me so happy because it’s the exact body type I picture.

Credits to the artist ofc!! I believe it’s Samantha Groenestyn

#cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod fanfic #fanfic #headcanon #cod oc #cod oc art #reader insert #female reader

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maryangelex · 2 months

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picture this: dad!soap unknowingly takes his kids to the awful glasgow willy wonka experience

#cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod fanfic #fanfic #soap call of duty #soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john mactavish #mw2 #soap

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maryangelex · 2 months

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I feel like I already have an answer to this but I want to see who my followers mainly are...

#cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod fanfic #fanfic #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost riley #john price #simon ghost x reader #john price cod #john price call of duty #captain john price #john price x reader

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maryangelex · 2 months

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Simon coming back from a mission to his gf who has a feast prepared and waiting for him. Later on in the day, he decides it’s the right time to propose while doing it.

a/n: this prompt literally has me twirling my hair and kicking my feet anon. I hope you like it and I did ur vision justice!!! this had me fucking blushing and giggling!!!

c/w: soft!ghost, established relationship, nothin crazy just some sweet sweet lovemakin

For more than a month now you'd been waiting for Simon to come back home. He had made sure to call you last night, even if it was at 2 a.m., to tell you that he'd be home, that he'd finally get to be in your arms because God did he miss your embrace.

At the news of his arrival, despite your grogginess from being abruptly woken up, you felt your heart beam and flip in your chest. The sound of Simon's gruff voice was almost a whisper as he told you how he could hardly wait another day to see you, telling you he was counting down the seconds. Those sweet words of his lulled you back to sleep, and Simon cherished nothing else as much as hearing the soft sounds of you sleeping even if it was through the phone.

Simon was always missing you when he was away and he was always eager when he knew he'd go back home even if it was only a handful of days that he was away. But the truth is, this time it was very different. This time it wasn't just eagerness and excitement he felt, it was nerves that crept at the back of his mind, that made his heart skip a beat at the thought of seeing you.

When he hung up the phone after you were deep in sleep, he clutched the small velvet box that sat cozily in the pocket of his cargos.

The next day you expected him all day. You had vigorously cleaned your shared flat, dusting surfaces that didn't need dusting. And most importantly, you made the hulking man that was Simon a feast deemed for a king with all his favorite dishes. You knew those MRE's were torturous, and that your warm food sitting in Simon's belly was salvation after deployment.

You paced and pranced around the house when the sun was setting and you knew he'd walk through the door at any moment. It was like meeting him all over again whenever he got back from deployment; like it was your very first date with him.

Simon was just as nervous, hesitating to insert the key in the lock of your front door, the rattling of the keys in his shaky hands exposing the nerves he fought back. And when he entered through the door you jumped with the overwhelming excitement that had been consuming you since the day prior. You wasted no time in leaping to his arms and smothering the man with kisses.

That gravely voice chuckled in delight and those strong arms carried you and spun you with him like the princess you were. His heart fluttered in his chest as he peppered your cheeks with chaste kisses, too many for either of you to count.

And when you finally said your greetings and I missed yous and I love yous, Simon sat and wolfed down every dish you so lovingly prepared for him. He rubbed his stuffed belly like a bear in hibernation and thanked you earnestly, all dramatic saying how he'd be skin and bones without you. You insisted against it, but Simon's love language of acts of service never faltered, and he helped you with the dishes and the cleanup.

Now is when Simon's nerves truly settled in his chest.

When the night grew old and he had showered the barracks off of him, and you exchanged your dress for a silky nightgown, Simon rubbed his thumb over the velvet box in the pocket of his sweats before tucking it gently behind the pillow.

You were in bed waiting for your giant teddy bear of a man, arms stretched out welcoming his large form. He melted in your embrace, wrapping those meaty arms around your smaller form, enveloping you in his warmth with his face nuzzled in your neck.

You felt his lips trail wet open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your neck, to the ball of your shoulder, gently nudging the straps of your nightgown down to your bicep, letting the neckline sag under your now exposed breast which he pawed with a calloused hand. His mouth roamed the expanse of your chest and the mounds of your breasts, nipping lightly and not leaving an inch of your skin untouched, feeling your racing heart palpitating beneath your sternum.

You sighed contently as you liquefied under him, your hands roaming over his exposed, scarred torso, gently massaging every knot and sore muscle as you indulged in his kisses.

But Simon paused for a moment to look at you. You saw the gleam in his soft, chocolate eyes. You saw nothing but adoration for you in them as they swallowed you whole. His hand came up to stroke your cheek, its callouses and rough pads contrasting your supple skin. Those hands that brought nothing but comfort and pleasure to you.

"What's goin' on in this pretty head o' yours, Si?" you giggled, inquisitive of the sudden staring from your man.

"Marry me," he said abruptly, with what one could hardly deem a smile from the gentle, stoic giant. Your eyebrows knit together as you looked at him, puzzled and surprised.

But before you could speak again, Simon reached behind the pillow and brought out the box he had been carrying like a secret in a tomb. As he propped himself on top of you with an elbow on the side of your head, he opened the box with the flick of his shaky thumb and showed you the ring he had seen you dog-eared on a magazine.

You felt your wide eyes well, your beating heart come to a stop, and a small sob or maybe a gasp get stuck in your throat.

"Marry me, lovie," he repeated, now with a toothy smile tugging on the scar across his lips.

You took his face in your hands as you nodded your head vigorously, not sure if you could say yes any more emphatically. "Y-yes!" you mustered finally.

Your response only made Simon rumble a laugh as he clashed his lips with yours in a messy, longing kiss. Then he sat back on his haunches, with your jittery hand in his own nervous ones, and slipped the shining rock onto your ring finger. You splayed out your hand to inspect it in a mix of joy and disbelief, trying to convince yourself this was real, and the sight only made the tears stream down your reddened cheeks. Simon hummed and took your hand once more, this time bringing it to his lips as he planted a tender kiss on the back of it, on your palm, and on your fingers.

That night Simon made love to you like no other time before. After discarding all items of clothing on either of you, he held you against him with your legs locked around his hips. His face only centimeters from yours, lips brushing against lips, and his cock deeply buried in you. His short and languid thrusts had you huffing and whining, moaning his name every time the tip of his cock kissed your cervix.

Your mouth agape granted him all access to sloppily kiss it as he pushed in and out of you, grinding his hips and fucking you gently and taking his sweet time to enjoy every second and every inch of your wet slippery walls that clasped and released around him.

As he kissed you over and over he recited sweet nothings and loving prose.

"My sweet girl, mine all mine...my pretty wife, my perfect wife."

#cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod fanfic #fanfic #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #headcanon #send anons #thanks anon!#anon ask

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