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#cod x reader
swordsandholly · 1 day
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Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.
Total ditz to be precise.
But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.
Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?
Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.
Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.
Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.
Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.
After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.
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jammyjen26 · 2 days
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Simon is cold, he’s rough, rude, and doesn’t give a shit about anyone else’s opinions.
Except for you, to you he’s soft, vulnerable, sweet, loving, and happy.
One day you go to drop off his lunch at base as he has forgotten it.
You walk in, dressed in a light pink sundress with flowers on it.
White sandals on your feet, your toes painted white and your nails done in a light pink.
You walk in and go up to the receptionist. All eyes on you.
“Is Simon here?” You ask softly, a small smile on your pink lips
The receptionist looks at you confused, “Simon? Ma’am I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re speaking of.”
A few minutes pass and you’re waiting on the receptionist, when all of a sudden a group of men walk in.
Everyone stands up and salutes them except you, you look up from your phone and see your husband.
“Simmy!” You run through the group of men until you reach Simon, hugging him tightly. The room goes silent as everyone stares.
Some people whisper knowing that he’s most likely gonna push you off and say a rude remark but he doesn’t. Not to you.
He wraps his arms around you as well and picks you up. “Hey love,” He kisses your cheek and hugs you tighter. “What are you doing here?”
You pull away and hug his arm, smiling brightly. “You forgot your lunch, where were you?”
“Just a mission.” He grumbles, he holds your hand and without even saying bye to his comrades he leads you to his office.
Leaving everyone shocked and confused, they all thought that he was lying when he said he was married. And especially they didn’t expect his wife to be so gorgeous.
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cntloup · 2 days
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18+ MDNI
Ghost punishing you for being a bad bad girl and not listening to him... idk man whatever
He's pulled your panties aside and hovers above you, slapping your slick, wet pussy.
"What did I tell you? Huh?!" he snarls, grabbing your jaw to make you look into his eyes which are flaming with rage and lust, "I'm... I'm so s-sorry, Si!" you say in a breathy voice.
You'd blush and shy away at the sound, the heavy impact of his big palm against your soaked cunt... if you weren't too far gone.
"P-please, Si!" you whine pathetically, not knowing if you're pleading for him to stop or already stuff your desperate, begging pussy.
The sound of your whiny pleas blend with the wet smack of his hand on your pussy while you nearly drool and lose your mind over the aching pleasure.
"You like this, don't you? Huh?! You dirty, dirty girl! You like it when I slap your pussy, yeah?!" he chuckles at your dazed state, "Y-yeah!" you gasp as another harsh spank is delivered to your soaking wet folds and he rubs his palm on your cunt in a somewhat soothing manner to calm the soreness.
He can't take it anymore, almost cumming at the mere sight of you, plush thighs spread open and your pretty pussy sopping wet with your desperate arousal.
He takes his throbbing cock out of his sweatpants and strokes the leaking tip over your waiting folds before slowly, teasingly easing into you.
His thick cock effortlessly slides into your warm, welcoming walls, taking him in and enfolding him entirely.
You both moan as the warm sweet sensation floods through your bodies.
His fat veiny cock fills you up real nice, stretching you out to your absolute limit.
And he doesn't even hesitate to pound into you mercilessly from the get-go.
He fucks you with such force and vigor that you think you're gonna pass out from the razing mix of pain and pleasure.
You're a whimpering, drooling mess beneath his bulky weight as his meaty cock jams into your slick cunt, his husky groans floating beside your ear.
"Come on, love. You gonna cum f'me?" he rasps out while your moans get higher in pitch paired with your squelchy walls tightly clasping down on him.
The tingling feeling pooling up in your belly, soon ruptures into all-consuming flames that wash over your whole body.
And his gravelly growl of absolute euphoria fills your ears as he fills up your needy womb with his warm cum.
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tacticalprincess · 2 days
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making out with könig is so needy and sloppy and erotic, on both ends. large hands exploring every inch of your soft body while he licks into your warm mouth like a starved man. he’s not the type to be ashamed about being vocal either, making you swallow his moans and whines while your lungs scream for air, hovering off the floor from his subconsciously firm grip on you. if hes especially worked up, it’s clumsy and uncoordinated, more knocking teeth and tongue than anything else, borderline painful the way he’s trying to devour you whole. pinning you to the wall and humping against you because it’s never enough — he kinda needs to crush you. can’t hold enough of you in his hands. he’s always painfully hard and covered in both of your spit, eyes glossy and unfocused, when you pull away. he kisses like he eats pussy and i need him.
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TF141 & sexy clothes
Gaz absolutely supports you wearing whatever you feel sexy in. however, in his heart of hearts, he believes the sexiest thing you can wear around him is your pjs, your ratty old tees, your sleep shirts, your big hoodies, your slouchy garbage clothes. he just wants to know you're comfortable. not to mention the idea of you letting him see you the way nobody else gets to... letting yourself be totally vulnerable around him... that lights up a certain (slightly needy) (slightly possessive) part of his brain. interesting how easily his hands can slide past the hem of your clothes when they're bigger and slouchier, too.
Ghost loves lingerie, though. like wrapping a present just for him. it's less about the lace (or the bows, or the straps, or the leather, whatever you prefer) and more about the time and attention you're expending to make yourself look all sexy. all this work? for him? even if his usual compulsion is to act aloof and pretend it's no big deal, he can't hide the greedy way his eyes devour you--for me? don't mind if i do. it's a toss-up whether he decides to unwrap you completely or just push his calloused hands into your lil outfit and muss you up until it's not covering anything anymore. or maybe he'll just leave the wrapping on so he can keep admiring all your hard work while he pumps into you.
Price says he loves you in lingerie, and he does. he doesn't tell you how fucking crazy you drive him when you're dressed for business. that might mean the clothes you wear into the office every day; it might mean fatigues; it might mean a particular uniform; it might be sportswear. he's big into seeing you focused and in your element--your competence is sexy--while also knowing there are so few layers he'd need to peel off before he could have you completely forgetting yourself if he wanted. and hey! if the lace at the top of your thigh-highs happens to be peeking out from under your pencil skirt, or if your ass fills out your uniform just right? that's just fine with him. you do you. (for now. he'll do you later.)
Soap's preferences are simple. he likes access. skirts. dresses. obviously, if he could convince you to be naked 100% of the time, he would. sundresses are pretty, though. so are your studded black skirts if you're gothy. or your sharp, practical, form-fitting pencil skirts if you're professional. you can even wear a kilt if you'd like. his kilt. he doesn't mind. (he only asks that you wear it as it's meant to be worn--without a thing underneath.) on days you do wear a dress or skirt, you're lucky to make it out of the house without him darting after you, pulling the hem up your thighs, and wondering aloud how you managed to find any undergarments at all; he'd swear he hid every last pair. he peels your underwear off--don't protest, hen; you know how this works--and after that, your chances of getting out the door are slim to none.
...
more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag
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writersdrug · 3 days
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Simon Riley x DogSitter!Reader pt. 4
<- Previous
Warnings: Cursing, caught half-naked (don't get ya knickers in a twist, it's not by Simon), possessive behaviour, pining
A/N: Good morning! typed this up last night, wanted to post it but Tumblr mobile hates it when I try to edit my drafts. but I cracked open my computer and got it finished! enjoy the day! xoxo
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"You need to stay still." You said quietly, your hands gently laying on Riley's stomach as she lay on her back. Her eyes flickered between you and your hands curiously with a nervous look on her face. Her tail swished, brushing with a whoosh against the unkempt grass of Simon's backyard.
"Good- play dead, good..." You slowly removed your hands, placing them against your thighs as you knelt next to her. "And stay-"
As soon as your hands left her fur, she twisted back onto her feet and sat upright. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she panted, looking at you for the next command.
"No!" You cried, holding the sides of her face and pointing her snout towards you. "You just had it! C'mon, we've got to get this down - need to show off your skills at the dog park, yeah?"
You flopped down on your back and raised your arms in the air. Riley took a few steps back and stared at you - her toe was pointed in anticipation. She had no idea what you were doing.
"Like this-" you said, "Play dead." You rolled back onto your knees, giggling at the flabbergasted expression on her face. "Really- it's easy, let's give it one more go."
You guided her to lay down again - she huffed, seemingly annoyed with whatever it was you were trying to do. She let you roll her onto her back, her legs awkwardly sticking out straight. You tutted and bent her paws at each ankle.
"Good. Sta- stay." You said as she tried to wiggle up. You kept your hands on her belly again, and she boredly looked at the blue sky above.
"Good, Riley. Play dead." You slowly sat back on your haunches, and she managed to stay put. She looked at you upside-down as you fished a few treats from your pocket.
"Stay..." You cooed, holding the treats up to her muzzle. "Good. Play dead."
She gently lapped up the treats when you opened your palm, chewing noisily and looking back at you for direction. She remained on the ground, feet pointed in the air and her tail still.
"Ok, Riley." You said, and she scrambled back onto her feet. "Now, let's try again. Play dead."
She looked at you, tilting her head in confusion. You could see the gears turning, and your skin was nearly on fire with anticipation. "Play dead." You repeated slowly, pointing towards the ground.
Sure enough, she sank to the floor. When she saw the excitement growing in your eyes, she rolled onto her back, letting her legs relax above her.
"Good girl!!" You squealed, rubbing her belly and her face and showering her with kisses - she groaned and yapped, hurriedly getting back up onto her feet.
"Oh, you're so good, Riley!" You exclaimed and handed her a few more treats. She scarfed them down in a matter of seconds as her tail thwapped against the ground.
You felt proud of her - and of yourself. You'd never really considered yourself an actual dog-sitter before. But now, after this achievement, you felt like the dog-sitter.
"Mitchell had better watch his sorry ass..." You stated, standing up and brushing your hands on your thighs. You paused when you felt something cold - you turned to look over your shoulder, and sure enough, your entire back and rump were covered in mud. You sighed, looking back down at where you had laid in the grass. There was a decently sized mud puddle, with the perfect imprint of your torso and backside.
"Oh, for Christ's sake-" you grumbled, trudging back towards the house. Riley hopped through the doorway and made a beeline straight to her water bowl. She lapped up the water messily as you toed off your sneakers, leaving them by the backdoor. You closed the door behind you and groaned as the damp fabric clung to your skin.
"Just my bloody luck." You murmured. You began peeling your clothes off in the hall, starting with your socks, then your sweatshirt, then your top. You were just about to shimmy out of your jeans, when you heard Riley whine.
Turning around, you saw her walking- no, limping, to her dog bed. She groaned as she shuffled around, scratching at the fabric, before plopping down onto the plush cushion.
"Y' feeling alright, girl?" You asked, and she turned her snout towards you. "Time for some medicine, hmm?"
You padded into the kitchen, grabbing her medicine from the counter and popping a pill into your palm. You stole a jar of peanut butter from Simon's cupboard and scooped a spoonful, shoving the pill into the sticky glob and heading back to the living room. "Don't worry-" you said, holding the spoon down to her as she licked it greedily. "I won't count this as one of your daily cookies."
You felt a chill against your bare back - you looked up, noticing that the AC vent was positioned right above Riley's bed.
"Well, that can't be good..." You grumbled. You quickly ran and snagged a worn-out blanket (decorated with bones and tennis balls, most likely from when she was a puppy) from the hall closet, before returning and draping it over her. She let out a wary groan as you tucked in the edges, cocooning her in a layer of felt.
"Need t' make sure you're not too chilly-" you said, securing her under the blanket. "That cold doesn't help your leg, does it?"
She made a content sound and sank her head down onto the cushion, making you chuckle. "There, isn't that much be-"
You stood back up, your sentence interrupted by your own panic. The mailman was outside the front window, staring right back at you. He was frozen, eyes wide with a shocked flush on his cheeks, as he was putting the mail in Simon's box.
In a fit of horror, you glanced down at yourself, being met with the sight of your shirtless torso and jeans. You shrieked in embarrassment and ran into the hall, quickly throwing yourself into the bathroom and slamming the door behind you.
Riley tilted her head as she watched down the hall, the sound of your "Fucking hell!!" Echoing from beyond the bathroom door - she flopped hear head back onto the cushion and sighed.
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The cot groaned and creaked beneath Simon as he dropped himself onto it. He tossed his duffle bag on the floor next to him, letting his arm hang over the edge for a moment. His entire body ached - he had let himself relax too much on his time off with Riley, and had nearly forgotten just how rough this job was on his bones.
"Never thought we'd be back 'ere, eh?" Soap said, trudging into the small dorm. "Alejandro said we're always welcome on 'is base, but I ken he meant other circumstances."
Simon groaned in agreement. "Brings back memories, eh?"
Soap scoffed. "If ye say so, LT. Rott'n ones, that's fer sure."
"A' least it's over."
Soap grunted. "Gonna celebrate with a cup o' joe." He said, rolling out his shoulders with a pop. "Need me t' grab ye some?"
"Thanks, but no thanks. Like to try n' get some sleep 'fore we head home."
"Suit yourself, LT." Soap said, before he left Simon alone in the dorm.
He sighed heavily. Simon was lying to himself if he thought he was going to get any sleep. During the entire mission (save the parts where he was snapping a bloke's neck, or planting bullets in bodies), he couldn't stop thinking about Riley - which was also a lie. Truthfully, he couldn't stop thinking of the both of you.
Were you treating her well? Did you end up using his shower? Did you remember her medicine? Did you use the throw blanket when you slept on his sofa? What did you two do all week? What did you do all week?
It was hard to realize that he'd only seen you in person twice, with the way that he was constantly plagued by you. You and your overly-bright and bold personality. He wondered if you'd be there when he gets back home, or if you'd-
Oh, right. He'd be home tomorrow night. He'd forgotten to text you. He quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed up a message.
coming home tomorrow evening. it'll be late. don't worry about being there, but if you are, that's fine.
He hoped you would be there, he thought, as he sent the message, letting the phone drop onto his chest.
Not a minute had passed that Simon had fought with his own mind, when his phone buzzed. He pulled the screen back above his face and opened the message from you.
Glad to hear you're back safe!
Buzz
If you are actually back, I guess I don't know where you are...
Buzz
Anyways, that's fine! I'll walk Riley around 7 pm, she's good after that until bedtime
Buzz
Of course, you know that, she's YOUR dog after all, lol
Buzz
Get back safe! And I mean get HOME, not just wherever you are right now!
He stared at each message as it popped up, one after another. You must type fast - and god, were you annoying... but he didn't hate it. He should hate it, he'd hated every other person he'd run into with your attitude. But he felt the depth and the honesty in your words, even over text. It was aggravating him, but instead of stomping your sparks out, he wanted to hide them in his dark corner, where no one else could see just how bright you were.
Shut the fuck up, he thought. Man whore.
He began to reply to your message, thick fingers struggling to tap away at the tiny screen.
How are my girls?
Fuck- backspace, backspace- Christ, that was a close one.
How's my girl?
Send.
He groaned, staring at the screen, hungrily waiting for you to respond. He thought of the sound of your nails clacking away on your phone. What would you say? "Good"? "Fine"? "She's sleeping"? He wished you'd go on another tangent, stringing him along in a conversation where one message hardly had anything to do with the last.
Buzz
You sent a photo.
Simon's chest felt tight with anticipation - he hurriedly clicked on the image to make it bigger.
It was you and Riley, both lying on the couch. You were curled up against the arm of the sofa, wearing your pajamas and tucked under his throw blanket with a book in your hand. Your hair was down, and a bit damp, too. Riley was cozied up to your side, her snout resting in your lap. The both of you looked up into the camera - you, with a sweet, soft smile that nearly put Simon in cardiac arrest.
Doing good! I think she likes it when I read to her!
Simon exhaled heavily through his nose. You read to the dog- of course you fucking read to the dog. Why was that attractive? Why was he so warmed by your matching daisy pajamas? By the mug of tea on the coffee table (in his mug, which made it worse)? By the way Riley was so comfortable around you?
How were you doing this to him - infiltrating his brain so easily, consuming it like a weed? A beautiful, elegant weed?
He groaned and laid his phone on his chest, rubbing his eyes. He let his palms linger over the sockets for a moment. Something must be wrong with him. Simon was never so easily distracted by anything, let alone anyone. Had he gotten soft on his time off? Was this some sort of pre-middle-aged hormone cocktail that was controlling him? How the hell was he supposed to snuff this flame out? He could never request your services again; but as soon as the thought entered his head, he threw it out. He'd keep you, if not for his own selfishness, then for the way you were so excited to have the job in the first place. This would have to be a project of self-discipline. He would have to figure out how to-
"Steamin' Jesus- that's who ye got watchin' Riley?!"
For a moment, Ghost nearly came out and landed a punch to Soap's gut. But Simon simply jolted, catching his phone right before it slid off onto the floor.
"Bloody- fuckin' hell, Johnny." He grumbled.
"Bloody fuckin' hell indeed-" Soap agreed, trying to swipe at Simon's phone. "Pull 'er up again, lemme see-"
"Bugger off." Simon warned. He sat up on the edge of the bed and pocketed his phone.
"Awe, this why ye dinnae want te talk 'bout 'er earlier?" Soap said with a playful grin, collapsing onto his cot on the opposite side of the room. "Been hidin' tha' pretty thing all te yerself?"
"'M not hidin' anythin.'"
"Then lemme see- might snag 'er number, too-"
"No you won't, Johnny."
"Why not?"
"Because y' don't need a bloody dog-walker."
"Maybe not, but I could always use a lass, eh?"
"She is off limits-" Simon said, narrowing his gaze at Soap, "- n' there's not gonna be another word 'bout it."
Simon laid down and rolled to face the wall before Soap could utter another word. He heard Johnny scoff, followed by the sound of him removing his boots.
"Dry piece of shite, ye are..." he grumbled.
Despite his instinctual reaction to Johnny's instantaneous attraction to you, Simon was a bit shocked with himself. Again - you weren't his. The only tether he had to you was strictly monetary and contractual. He even imagined that you might be pissed, having a client treat you like they were your bodyguard. He needed to figure this out and de-root it from the source, before it got any worse.
But... if he allowed himself to entertain the idea, just this once... Would it be such a bad thing? To attempt- to convince you that he wasn't so horrible a person, really- if you could just see past his hard, outer shell, built up from years of trauma and blood. Who knows how long it would take you to see him as a decent person, but he could think about the logistics later. It wasn't against the law to date your pet-sitter, he just had to make himself believe that. Maybe you were just the perfect amount of sunshine that could melt the iciness within him.
With a glance over his shoulder, making sure Soap was minding his beeswax, Simon pulled his phone out of his pocket. He gave your picture a long, favorable glance, before he sent you a final message for the night.
keep reading to her for me, and tell her I'll be home soon. thanks again.
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Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @yannvi @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @identity2212 @pricescontroversiallyyoungerwife @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon @xxkay15xx
Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! It might need to be a reblog at this point lol
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 days
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Bimbo!Reader who's convinced Pushover!Konig is just a big teddy bear of a giant
He literally beat up a guy who tried to hit on you, and you were fussing over him, ruining that pretty shirt you helped him choose. Konig has no sense of style or tact, and he is very sensitive to criticism - but this is where your inner critic is shutting up, and you just fuss over him like he is just an overgrown baby.
Konig feels like your fussing over him is a bit embarrassing and generally a humiliating process, but he doesn't care - not as long as he can feel your hands on his face when you're wiping away the blood. You're adorable, fucking precious, and he can't wait to ruin you - just as soon as you'd stop being so dense about his hints...but you won't stop, and he finds himself in a weirdly wholesome relationship. It might be that you're just too dumb to see the signs, but he kinda likes your immunity to red flags - and besides, he is smart for the both of you...and likes being cared for too much. You drag him over to your favorite cafe, and he forces himself to stop thinking about fingering you under the table. You would probably allow him, especially while you're wearing a skirt that barely covers your ass and your cleavage is deeper than the knife wounds he used to inflict on his opponents, but he is far too nervous for this. Doesn't want to appear weird, even as you scoot closer to him and ask what he thinks about the necklace you bought with the money he gave you. He stares at the little space orb settled perfectly on your tits. He gulps. Konig probably needs to stop excusing himself in the middle of your dates to jerk off in a public bathroom, but the other possibility would be fucking you senselessly and making you even dumber than you already are...and it's not really an option. He keeps telling himself that he is not weird, but he allows you to sleep on his chest when you're too tired to go home after a movie night, and then he'd massage your tits for the rest of the evening. He keeps telling himself that he is not weird, but it's easier for him to snatch your panties and use them for masturbation than actually asking you to fuck him. The worst thing is - you trust him. You look at him with your precious shining eyes, and you act like he isn't a fucking war criminal who can snap your neck in a second. You give him too much power, trusting him so blindly - he knows he is going to snap one day. Like a rope slowly untangling from its threads. Like a metal cable that is going to escape your arms and cut through the soft skin of your palms.
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konigsblog · 1 day
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expanding on this stupid idea...
two-dicked könig fucking your tight asshole and cunt at the same time.🩸
tw/cw; — non-con/dub-con, hybrid fucking, monster fucking, mentions of kidnapping. 18+
photo credits; x_bruisedpeach_x on x/🐦
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you're not exactly sure how you got yourself into this mess. he's some sort of hybrid, with horns and dark eyes, gazing into your soul and possessing your body. he turns you into a fleshlight for himself and his own satisfaction, lifeless in his tight grip as he takes control over you every movement, pushing himself into your swollen folds, his other dick prodding at your tight asshole.
your back is against the wet grass, prior to a thunderstorm. it's still raining slightly, the light raindrops against your face, gazing dizzily into the night sky. your eyes look empty with no sign of life despite your beating heart, with könig pushing both of his large, hung cocks into you, his firm grasp only tightening when he slides himself inside, forcing your legs apart at his will.
it's a struggle, of course it is. being stuffed from both ends isn't exactly the comfiest thing ever, and you're sure as hell struggling to take every inch of his meaty dicks. your ass aches at the fullness, your stomach creating a bulge, disappearing and reappearing when he drives his muscular, sturdy hips into you. you're so small in comparison to the seven foot giant, his brute body hunched over yours to protect you from any other monster that lingers in the forest late at night, the smell of sweat and sex burning your nostrils. könig heaves and growls, a demonic and unholy sound emitting from deep within him.
your tight pussy clutches onto his heat instinctively, his heavy balls tight and full of load, that he'll shoot into both holes of yours. your body is weak with his thrusts only becoming more violating and humiliating, forced to be compliant with him as he takes over your mind, turning you into a set of holes simply for his own selfish benefit. the dark claws on his large, calloused hands dig into your flesh as he pounds into you, ploughing into your soft slit mercilessly, leaving marks that you'll remember him by, when you're locked away in a little cage for him, a captive in his grimey hands.
fuck, how is a tiny little thing like you supposed to takes loads of his milky, creamy semen? especially when it's fucked into your holes at a rapid and ruthless pace, leaving your form weak and defenceless beneath him, pleading for mercy through struggled whines and protests, his creamy stickiness oozing from the sides of your cunt, stuffed to the brim.
serve your purpose and become a slave for him.
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ghouljams · 3 days
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ANDROID GHOST AJDBAHGEJADHJWHAH SKEHEBJWBDJA WKRBBWJF IM NEVER GOING TO THINK ABOUT ANYHITNG ELSE EVER AGAIN
also question: is there like a cum storage in his body that would have to be manually refilled?? if so imaging fucking him until it’s literally empty
It does have to be manually refilled. Trying to find a way to put a come making system in Ghost's body was a bit more challenging than you thought it would be, so you opted for the refillable route. Much easier. Plus you figure he won't run out too quickly. It's not a huge amount that gets stored, but you figure it's enough.
You did not anticipate that going his entire android life without a dick or orgasm software would probably lead to some... overconsumption once he did have it. Ghost shows up like two days later and needs to be refilled. He'll tell you straight up it's because he was masturbating too. He's got a "lot of time to make up" and boy is he making up for lost time.
Also "fucking him" is a bit of a stretch, "being used to get him off" is more accurate. Because that's what he does. He moves you with mechanical strength and precision like a living doll made to take his cock. In a way you are. You designed his dick exactly to your own desires, meeting his specifications while you drooled over the mechanics and tested the synth skin under your tongue. Now you sit on your knees with your head bumping against the wall as Ghost thrusts your perfect cock into your mouth, holding your head between his hands and pulling you down until you gag.
"Giving you what you deserve lovie," He tells you, something achingly tender in the swipe of his thumb against the tears staining your cheek, "lemme shut that brain o' yours off for a while."
He pins you to the workbench, keeps you on your back and presses your knees up to your shoulders. The weight of him is enough to keep you from moving as he pushes his thick cock into your dripping cunt, the angle perfect for him to beat against your cervix with each short thrust. It's too much too fast. The ache of it punching pleasure deep in your stomach, your cunt clenching as it tries to keep him inside. Your head spins, your breath catches, Ghost hooks your legs over his shoulders and laces his fingers behind your head. He forces you to bend under his weight, makes you watch the way his cock disappears into your puffy pussy and comes out glistening with slick.
And he'll keep you there, keep hitting that mind numbing spot deep inside you until your legs are shaking and you're screaming his name. He'll fuck you through orgasm, tap his metallic forehead against yours and let your breath fog his faceplate. He'll fuck you through his own orgasm, make you realize that despite adding a routine to increase sensitivity with each consecutive orgasm, you didn't actually program in a refractory period. Ghost will fuck you until he's empty, and then he'll fuck you past that.
"Making up for lost time," He'll tell you when he finally lets you up. Making up for lost time, you think as you stretch your aching legs towards the floor and try to find your balance. You're losing time on your back and on your knees, and now you've got synthetic come sloshing around and dripping out of you.
Price can't fire you for this, can he?
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codtrashsammy · 2 days
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Just Simon Riley thoughts <3
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Simon Riley who got a lil tattoo on his forearm- opposite of the existing tattoos on the other one. It’s something small, something that makes him think of of you. Something separate from the trauma fueled tattoos on his other arm, something he can look at on missions and be reminded he has a home to come back to, a person to come back to, you.
“I’ll get back to ya, sweet’art,”
Simon Riley who doesn’t want a big welcome home party, just wants to find wherever you are, flop down on top of you, and relish in the fact that his hands can caress your softness so sweetly. You make him feel human, whole.
“Hm. Missed ya, love.”
Simon Riley who is so unbelievably devoted. There is no other in his eyes, only you. You who still found your way into his heart even when he was doing nothing but pushing you away. You who always had a kind touch and a bright smile. You who had no reason to try with him- but you gave it your all anyway. No, he can’t look at anyone else, not when he is practically addicted to everything that is you.
“Only you, love. Can’t see no one else when I got perfection waitin’ f’me at home.”
Simon Riley who is trying so damn hard to love you. Simon who is trying to love you in the ways he knows you deserves yet believes it’ll never be enough. Sweet pet names, soft touches, constant reassurance. He’ll freeze hell over with his bare hands before he lets a day slip past that you believe you’re anything less than a deity in his eyes.
“I gotcha, love. I gotcha.”
Just Simon Riley 🥺🥰❤️‍🩹
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fragileheartbeats · 3 days
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"he's insane-"
HE JUST NEED LOVE STFU BITCH!!!
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romanticintheory · 2 days
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thinking about fellow soldier!reader coming back to ghost after having been mistaken for kia
gn!reader x simon "ghost" riley
-maybe he's back in your shared apartment, holding the last photo he took with you.
-it was taken the day of your birthday, with your arms around simon's waist and a gleeful smile permanently etched on your face.
-you were looking directly at the camera with your eyes crinkled at the corners. simon, however, was looking at you and only you with an expression only a lovestruck fool could manage.
-he had long since stopped crying about what he believed was your death. when price came to him with a somber expression and the news that you were on the wrong end of an explosion, the only thing he could do was cry or be angry.
-now, he felt nothing.
-you could imagine his surprise when he hears the front door open. did he forget to lock it? was someone breaking in? he didn't care enough to prepare himself for a potential attack.
-but, no, you walked in with an ungodly amount of bandaged wounds and a tired look on your face.
-you expected him to stand from his place on the sofa to meet you, but he didn't. he thought he was imagining things, again, so he said nothing.
-"simon," you said softly, not bothering to take off your shoes and throwing you things onto the ground next to you.
-still, he said nothing.
-"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. price said he tried to contact you but that you never answered," you continued. nobody knew where you and ghost lived, and simon's grief took the form of self-isolation.
-he still didn't answer you at this point, and it was becoming unsettling.
-"simon, can you hear me?"
-"you're not real," was all he could muster. he didn't have the heart to tell "fake" you to go away or beg himself to wake up from his supposed dream. "i can't do this again. you're not real."
-you realized just how hard your false death had hit him.
-"i'm real. i promise. i was able to take cover last second and-"
-"no. you're dead with not even a body to recover because i wasn't there to protect you. god, i..." the words got stuck in his throat as he leaned forward on the sofa, holding his head in his hands and near trembling.
-you dropped to your knees in front of him like a follower worshipping their god. taking his hands, you held them tight as you could in a silent attempt at convincing him you were alive.
-there was a moment of silence between the two of you before he drew his hands away from yours. it made your heart hurt.
-"simon..." you were grasping at straws, now, trying to figure out how to convince him of what was true. maybe there was something in your luggage that might help.
-as soon as you turned your body to your bags by the front door, you were pulled right back in by a pair of strong arms.
-he was hugging you like the moment he let go, you'd disappear into thin air (and, in a way, he believed it to be a possibility). after being pulled from your shock, you immediately brought your own arms to reciprocate the embrace.
-"(y/n)," he said, trying to keep his voice stable. there was still a part of him that couldn't believe he had you with him. if he weren't so thankful, he'd be lecturing you about acting wreckless on missions and convincing you to quit your job so nothing like this happened again.
-but, for now, he was content like this.
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lxvvie · 3 days
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I‘m a huge fan of the there’s only one bed trope but let me change it up a bit. The 141 are on deployment and the reader loses her sleeping bag and tent in a firefight. So now she has to share with Simon. Somehow Simon’s fingers end up between her legs👀
Ghost, in all his gritty fuck-nastiness, saw you losing your things as the perfect opportunity to claim what's his.
You don't even get to ask before he tells you you're with him.
Good thing, too, 'cause it's a little chilly at night, so when you finally settle down for the night, you're... mighty close to Ghost. Close enough to feel his heat, yeah, but you ain't touching.
Not yet. Until you finally do and he says, "Fuck it."
And now he has his fingers knuckle deep inside you.
"Gotta keep 'em warm," Ghost says gruffly as he pumps 'em in and out. FuckfuckfuckyouwannamoanohfuckGhost—
"Keep it in. Can't attract attention." Not a suggestion, an order, and you're left whimpering and trying your damndest not to get too loud as he finger bangs the fuck out of you.
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cntloup · 1 day
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Thinking about Simon swaddling your waist with his muscular arm and pulling your body closer to his until you’re fully flushed against him, so he can feel all of you. Like all of a sudden sensing this urge to feel you. And he takes your jaw in his rough, calloused hand, his thumb brushing over the soft skin while his blazing gaze burns through you. And he crashes his lips onto yours, kissing you with such fiery passion, all the fierce love and devotion he holds for you in his once deemed cold, dead heart that you have melted over the years, seeping through his lips and flooding into your heart and soul. All the while holding you tightly against him to make you feel all his love, all of him. Until you’re left feeling dizzy and floaty, breathless in his arms as his eyes fixate on yours once again, taking note of the knowing look in your eyes. And you know this is his way of showing how much he loves and adores you without any words.
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tacticalprincess · 3 days
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augh just thinking about virgin!konig.. he just cant keep his hands to himself !!! whenever you get out of the shower he always wants to dry you off.. of course he only really wants to feel you..
- 🐶
whoever said its harder to go without pussy only after having it was a liar. könig’s dick hasn’t been soft since he met you, and he’ll find any excuse to feel your soft body against his. his desperation for you really should be more embarrassing, but any sane man in his position would feel the same, being in such close proximity to someone as gorgeous as you.
he’s came into his calloused fist countless times, recalling how warm and pliant you are under his fingertips. he just knows you’re warmer and softer inside, and he’d do anything for a chance to feel it!! he finds himself replaying memories of him groping your damp body through your towel, to your boobs pressed against his firm chest in an innocent hug, down to just your fingertips grazing sweetly along his rough hand, while he gets himself off. he always comes so quickly with you on his mind, frustrated that you’re not the one he’s beating his dick sore into.
he asks to give you a massage one day, and just the feeling of the muscles and doughy skin of your back is enough to push him over the edge. that, paired with your quiet moans of content and sporadic praise — he’s achingly hard and breathless, oozing pearly droplets of precum into his pants. he convinces himself you have to be teasing him, because otherwise he’ll feel guilty about having such intense lust for you. just take pity on him and let him hump into your pudgy thighs, he’ll be quick, he promises!!
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Grim reaper : Don’t you think it’s about time you move on?
Grim reaper : You can’t just keep evading death like this
Ghost, bleeding out : If this was me 5 years ago, I would’ve moved on since I got nothing to lose…
Ghost : But now I got something, and they’re waiting for me at home. I promised them that I will, even if I have to crawl my way back to them
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