Simon Riley Smut - Blog Posts

I never thought I would want something like this before (≧◡≦)

MDNI 18+

simon would make you ride and hump his boot whenever you were being a desperate little thing. a small desperate whine left your lips as you pathetically grind on his combat boot, your mouth glossy with your own saliva as you looked up at simon pleading, eyes wide and glossy. “told you sweetheart, ‘m busy.” simon merely grunted as he pretended that you didn’t even exist, like you were a pest bothering him. a small huff escaped your pouty lips as your movements became slightly more messy, your arms wrapped around his leg as you tried to get some sort of friction from his boots, every little edge and lace that rubbed your slick folds. “si, i need you,” your voice barely audible as tears welled up in your eyes your inner thighs glistening from your arousal as the laces were now damp from them too, though clearly simon did not care. “don’t be so lazy sweetheart, you can do it yourself.” his tone cold and nonchalant, whilst you were the complete opposite, you felt your body get increasingly hot and bothered, cheeks flushed as you looked up at simon through your lashes, again completely unbothered. your panties were completely soaked, the outline of your cunt visible as you left small damp spots on his boot. as the ache in your past increased, your folds swollen but with no release you reached for the zipper on his cargo pants, simon’s strong hands gripping your wrist instinctively. “what are you doing love?” his tone stern as his eyes narrowed, disapproval painted on his face. “need you,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible as your bottom lip quivered, tears welling up in your eyes. “lay down and spread your legs,” simon ordered, not even bothering to look at you. obediently you followed, the cold material of the floor making you shiver slightly as you spread your legs, your cunt fully visible from your soaked panties. slowly, simon lifted his leg, his boot to your cunt before gently pressing down on your clit, eliciting a whine. simon spoke cooly “keep quiet if you want to come sweetheart.”

He should put me in a headlock now\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

smut | 18+ mdni.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley definitely thinks he’s a soft dom.

Wholeheartedly.

He has a lot of patience, he’s cool headed most of the time and knows how to stay that way even if he’s in a sticky situation. Barking out almost everything he says, giving you a good pat to the ass as praise. He’s still getting the hang of understanding all of you, eyebrow cocking up your stupid mistakes. But he’s calm, taking your jaw in his hand to look at him, making sure you don’t get ahead of yourself, takes time to correct you so you can get better at what you need help with.

It’s not like you were bad, no, you just had your off days. ‘Everyone does honey’ Simon reminded you constantly. You were well mannered, politely asking or declining when you needed to.

But my GOD, that brute, he gave you hell.

He’s manhandling you every which way imaginable, folding you like a lawn chair. When you trying to get the rest of his swelling cock inside, whining and clenching around a quarter of him— he’s pinning your hands down with one of his calloused hands, turning you slightly on your side so both of your legs are over his right shoulder and harshly yanking you to look at him by the chin.

“What did daddy say ‘bout bein a greedy bitch mama? You know better.”

Loved putting you in a full nelson so you had to stay there and take every veiny inch of him. He’s calling you everything but a child of god.

“Such a slut, makin a mess all over me. Look at this shit.”

“Squirtin like a fuckin fountain, what a messy fuckin pup. Pretty bitch on my dick, yeah?”

And when you’d refute being his puppy, he’s putting you in doggy style. Pressing his hand on your small of your back to create the meanest arch imaginable, drilling into your gummy walls while pulling at your curls.

“Pantin like a fuckin bitch in heat, ‘nd you say you’re not my pup. Fuckin lie, that is.”

He makes it his mission to fuck you till all you can think about is ‘Simon, simon, simon, daddy, daddy, daddy—‘

And he’s stuffed you completely full, your mixed cum spilling out and forming white rings around his dick. You’re drooling, eyes seeing stars, tears down you beautiful skin and he’s snapping his fingers in your face.

“Hellooooo? earth to [+]? Is that thing on?”

Simon’s laughing at the state of you in the crevice of your neck. He adored to see you absolutely wrecked for him. Overstimulated from cumming too much or edging you till you were babbling, whimpering mess. He scuff, pushing your pretty curls out of your face to properly look at you, relentlessly ramming every inch he could into your sweet spot, you slapped at his shoulder and swore it was all ‘too much’ and how ‘you couldn’t cum anymore.’ But there you were, still a moaning mess, cunt still clinging onto his manhood for dear life and dripping down his thighs.

With a ‘thwack’ to your tender clit, and a tight grip on you’re throat,

“Fucks sake, just shut up and cum already.”

You don’t even know what the fuck is happening to you when you cum. Legs shaking, stomach turning into knots, mouth agape because the moan won’t let itself out. And then you feel it, warm fluid hitting your cervix while Simon’s tip pulses inside you. You pass out for God knows how long, but Simon is yanking you out of the darkness by playfully flicking your temple. You’re still subbed out, immediately going to cling to him like you always do. He’d hum at the action, loved his needy baby. That’s when the soft comes out.

“Did good for me princess. Always been my good girl.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, long day tomorrow, yeah?”

a/n: Simon’s an aggressive lover, it’s true. It’s science.

let me tell you about the guys who are obssesed with your cute glasses. if you tell him you're gonna put your glasses away when you have sex, he insists on you keeping them on. he has to shut his eyes when you finally take him in your mouth. the looks on your face you're wearing while you peek at him thru your glasses is too much for him. it's not even your tongue that's making him this weak, it's your glasses.

"let me give you a break." he tells you, pulling his cock from your mouth.

"i know, baby." he coos when you whine at the loss of the weight of his cock. you want him back inside.

he grabs your chin with one hand while he strokes himself with the other. sometimes he gets so carried away that the bumps his cock on your nose, making your giggle. but he's just too lost because of your glasses.

"im gonna cum, baby." he groans, feeling the orgasm rushing thru his body. suddently, white ropes of cum paint your face, landing right at your glasses. you go to wipe them clean, but he stops you, emptying his last drops on them to prohibit you from seeing.

"good girl," he tells you, cradling your head in his hands, "now you look like you're mine."

T'ILL MORNING

Simon riley x FEM!reader | fluff, smut | 321? Words |

Warnings: smut, fluff, p in v

A/N: also sorry for deleting my writings all of my writings were so unorganized at all

16+ underage dni

The morning sunlight streamed in through the curtains, painting the room in a warm, golden glow. Y/N lay in bed, her body still tingling from the night's activities. She could feel the weight of Simon pressed against her back, his strong arms wrapped tightly around her, their entwined limbs tangled in the sheets. For a moment, she relished in the comfort of his embrace, the heat of his skin against hers, before a delicious memory flooded her senses.

The previous night, they had been unable to sleep, their bodies aching with desire. Simon had slowly stripped her naked, his hands trailing over her skin with a possessive tenderness. He had entered her with one forceful thrust, filling her completely, and from that moment on, it seemed like they couldn't get close enough. His thrusts were rough and demanding, each one making her moan and squirt with uninhibited pleasure. It had been the most intense and unforgettable experience of her life.

Now, as she lay in bed, savoring the warmth of Simon's body and the lingering afterglow of their passion, she couldn't help but wonder how they had gone so long without exploring this side of their relationship. It was as if they had both been waiting for this moment, for the chance to finally give in to the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. She knew that from now on, their connection would be irrevocably changed, forever marked by the memory of this perfect night of love and lust.

She shifted slightly in his embrace, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. His skin was warm and smooth, and she could feel his heart racing beneath her ear. The scent of his cologne filled her nostrils, mixing with the unmistakable muskiness of their lovemaking. She let out a contented sigh, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "Thank you, Simon," she whispered softly. "That was... incredible."

He shifted slightly, turning his head to press a kiss against the top of her hair. "You're welcome, love. I've wanted this for so long." He paused, his voice rough with emotion. "I never wanted anyone else but you."

Y/N felt a shiver of pleasure run down her spine at his words. She knew that they had both crossed a line last night, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of rightness, of completion. They belonged together, and last night had only served to strengthen that bond. She wrapped her arms tighter around him, reveling in the feel of his strength and the steady rhythm of his heart.

As she drifted back to sleep, she was aware of the weight of his hand on her hip, guiding her closer into his body. She knew that when they finally woke up, their lives would have changed irrevocably, but for now, they could just be together, wrapped in each other's arms, and savor the memory of this perfect night.

Idk who needs this but:

All the constantly freaked out shit is CORNY and gives loser + the h3nt@i headers have gone too far like just go watch p_rn atp🤦🏽‍♀️.

Edit: I’m not reading all that so argue with the wall. Other genres exist BESIDES smut. It wouldn’t hurt to write more of those.

"dinnae act innocent bonnie, we all know where your wee lil' mouth was 10 minutes ago"

you hear johnny's smug voice through that damn walkie talkie along with a muffled chuckle from gaz.

fuck! you forgot to turn off your damn mic before sucking what might be the biggest cock you've ever seen, and also enjoying the hottest blowjob that you've given. no amount of excuses is gonna save you now, everyone knows that you like being face fucked by your superior commanding officer, lieutenant ghost.

but who were you to deny that anyways, you did love sucking his hung cock so much, suckling the tip, peppering the shaft with small kisses, letting the precum drool down your cheek before you actually start taking him fully while he has his hand behind your head guiding his sweetheart through the blowie. Although he's a pinnacle of patience, determination and resilience, it all breaks when he has your soft plump lips wrapped at the base of his cock, the thrusts get sloppy, uneven as he chases his release. And mutters a "swallow it, yea pum'kin jus' like that, All of it" as you drink on his cum, its bitter sweet as per the taste, but its a bit easier now since you're used to it.

it had been noticed by everyone around the base how much the atmosphere charged when ever you and him made even the slightest of contacts, the veterans seemed to ignore it, having had their fair share of flings in their prime, the rookies enjoyed it, but it was soap who enjoyed it the most.

johnny doesn't knows when the lieutenant will share his bird with him. But he's certain that he will one day and its not that far away.

obsessed ex simon riley!

here you were in a shared taxi after days of insomnia rethinking you life decisions the clogged the little brain of yours or as simon suggested and again you were thinking of him , you're beloved boyfr ex.

this heartthrob of a guy had eating up every thought , every moment , every spec of a second that you got. Even though he wasn't in your life anymore you never really got over him.you don't know what's going on in his life, he probably moved on. A pretty guy like him always has some backup.

What you didn't know was how much he loved you, how much he need your pretty cunt wrapped around him. You simply didn't understand how much you meant to him because you never got to see yourself from his eyes. for him, you were the first sunlight after the storm, the blooming lotus in a pool of mud, a beauty like yours is divinity that he didnt even know he was allowed to see. and the stupid question 'How much he cared for you' so much that he's even resort to kill.

How he had been watching you get ready for your date this night secretly hoping you'd come to him instead . But it really doesn't matter to him .No matter what you do you will always be his and he will do anything for you. And how pretty you will look smothered in blood .

childhood girlfriend trope but with simon-ghost-riley. In his eyes you're everything to him and everything for him. you both grew apart years ago when he left for the military, yet you still remember the heartbreak that you had when he showed you a college selection letter? no it certainly wasn't and you were definitely clear that it wasn't a college selection letter after seeing the infamous SAS insignia with the motto 'who dares wins'. you wanted to slap simon square in the face, he was only 19 and so were you; promises you made about moving in together, building a small little family together which were either forgotten by him or abandoned by him. sure you sobbed for a few weeks after he left and maybe hated him for the a few months but after a while you grew tired of it, because if he did care for you and your love he would have atleast sent letters asking about your well being, so you set out to find love within someone else's embrace. and after 15 years, when your husband decides to invite his team over for dinner,now imagine the sheer shock on simon's face when his captain introduces you as his wife.

"ya really thought I wouldn't know anything aye?"

your lieutenant's words rang in your ears, these 8 words would've sounded different in any other given situation, but it was definitely something to hear it from ghost when your legs wrapped around his waist squeezing and squelching around him. "sir -hng I -ah" a tight taunting smack was provided to your ass, 'n't allowed to speak sergeant", truth be told after all you had previously secretly whispered here and there into the blue eyed, mohawk pretty bastard about his lieutenant, there was nothing left to say. Maybe you could've avoided this situation if you had kept your thoughts to your own self, all the snide, lewd remarks 'he can have me anywhere', 'i'd slut him out' or was it your sneaky peeks on his biceps when the team worked out together, or how your gaze lingered too long when he did anything remotely suggestive. "next time, if ye wanna say s'mthing say it to my face, not johnny"

"My lil' slag to ruin."

and hopefully now, you don't have to take sneak peeks of his body, hoping to see more, you've seen all of it already.

I need dick so bad rn….anyways

That’s it I’m writing a ghost fic. I can’t do this no more! Question is, do I do like like 141 at the beach or like 141 chillin and shit like WHAT.

I wanna write a ghost fic now. My brain has been rotting with ghost fics for the past few days now and I can’t get him out of my mind. Not that I’m complaining.

breaking simon into calling you mommy.

no fucking way, princess. he laughs and shakes his head like you just told him the funniest joke on Earth. no chance, never.

simon can't even believe you would ask him such a thing. him call you mommy? have you gone mad? why in the world would he ever do that? simon had a hard enough time submitting to you as is. now you throw this into play? you must want him to tie you up and show you who runs shit around here. (it's you.)

c'mon, babyyy. you lament, leaning in and letting your dark brown nipples rub against his. up and down, still wet from simon sucking on them earlier. just one time, c'mon. say it.

simon was coming up on his third nut in the last thirty minutes, and he was starting to lose himself. your hips were moving the same pace they were when you started, maybe faster since your pussy was creaming like a faucet. no, no..im not gonna-- fuck me.. not gonna say it.

he's not. nothing can crack that wall down. he won't. his mind is made up. you clench around him in retaliation, but the tightness adds to his overstimulating pleasure and makes him drop his hands to the sheets, gripping them with a force that would have stopped you in your tracks, must be why he moved.

fuck, mm-mommy. it comes out completely unplanned, unrecognized and unintentionally. simon can't look you in the eye, just gripping your hips again and watching you grind back and forth just a bit.

what's that, si? he shakes his head, closing his eyes and throwing his his head against the headboard. simon bites his lip and whimpers, simon riley, the 6 foot 200 something pound tank of a man whimpers at the feeling of your pussy gripping him.

mommy. i said-- i called you mommy. he reiterates, moving you up and down on his cock and watching it like it would disappear if he looked away. fuck you. fucking hate you-- fuck! simon's cum started spurting up into you and he was seeing white. his balls felt like they were cramping, tightening and releasing too quickly, too harshly, he swears for a second he's gonna pass out.

before you can quip, his fingers are wrapped around your throat and squeezing. not a word. he damn near whines. he's trying to sound all manly and deep voiced, you can tell, but his voice nearly cracked at how tight you are around him, and how fucking sensitive he is. not a fucking word, i swear.

maybe not now, but this will definitely be brought back up (especially when he starts to get a thing for fucking you while you're knocked up.)

simon eating you out while you blow smoke in his face.

smut. ⤵

whether you've had the worst or best day ever, simon is ready with a fat roll with ur name on it. perfer pens/carts? great, he just got u a new pink one that'll take you to the moon and back. more of a bong girl, he's gotchu. bowl neatly packed with no crumbs fallin out when u spark up.

while yall are passing back and forth, the weed does what it does.. fucks you up. not even ten minutes later, you're guiding simon's hand down to feel your pussy and she is..gushing. simon can't believe it either, asks you if you pissed yourself. fuck you, nigga..eat my pussy.

and of course, simon, like the good boy he is, does what he's told. lazily sucking on ur clit like its a pacifier with those fucking eyes looking up over the pudge of your stomach, a little red and reeeaaall low. he rubs his cock to the bed, groaning into you as he goes completely non-verbal. no dirty talk, no cussing, just simon eatin' your pussy like hes trying to take your soul. which he probably is, by the way.

nuttin' on simon's mouth feels ten times better when you're higher than heaven, ur weed discarded as you grip your sheets, throwing your head back witch a choked moan stuck in your throat as your entire body throbs.

simon riley smut drabble <3

nasty rating: ★★

saw a tiktok and it made me think about how simon's eyes cross when he cums. like his breath picks up and he starts curling upwards to the point where his abs hurt, he starts whining lil "fuck"s and "shit, yes"s while his balls tighten and his head starts to get heavier.. and then boom, just like that thick, slightly salty ropes of cum start to eject themselves into your throat while you swallow around his cock.

thank u guys so so so so so much for all the love on the konig/ghost thoughts, i really appreciate all the likes and reblogs on it and im working on something similar rn!

unorganized thoughts that i may turn into fics

✦konig meine frau✦

this man is a certified freak. like 7 days a week. i stand by the fact that it's always the quiet ones. most ppl look at him and are like 'aww subby inexperienced baby boy' (and usually so do i) but versatility yk. anyways i feel like he actually has a really long tongue, 👀 if yk what i mean. and loves edging, just not on himself because it frustrates him. anyways, back to the original plot of this post, i think he almost likes receiving as much as giving but emphasis on that almost.

he's a clit sucker, sorry not sorry to say it. and loves holding your hips against the bed so you can't squirm. one of my personal hc's is that he can play the piano really good and you know what they say about piano players........

overall he's just perfect. and don't even get me started on aftercare with him cause WHEW CHILE

hes just so. so hot.

i think his favorite part of it though is foreplay. only cause he gets to learn about what your turn ons are and where you want him to touch you. also he just really likes teasing. when you do it to him though, he becomes whiney and impatient, which leads me to my next thing,

KONIG IS A SUB LEANING SWITCH

it's just really easy to get him to fall apart under your touch, like i mentioned in the dick headcanons, he's very sensitive.

he loves kissing, licking and just being all over you and you being fully receptive of it. this man would struggle so hard in public to not do that. he understands that it's not socially acceptable in public but he just can't help it<3 i love him.

oral fixation konig? oral fixation konig.

he has to have his mouth on something, or be doing something to be comfortable. so usually you'd just let him suck your fingers or something to distract him (he just like me fr)

mommy kink konig? hear me out.

like imagining this 6'10 guy who's probably twice my age moaning under me and calling me mommy is just so. mmmm yummy

┆☆ghosty my love☆┆

hmmm where do i even start. yk i feel like i have to preface this by saying i don't feel like ghost and myself would work out if we're talkin about his canon personality so it's hard to write for him without it being heavily ooc.

like he's just too nonchalant. like it's not chalanting for me. where tf is the chalance at.

but anyways, i feel like he's a trial and error yk yk.

like when you're someone like ghost, pussy eating isn't gonna be the first thing on your mind.

so he'd have to practice on you. (that's a great fic idea right there) which ultimately leads to you not being able to walk the next morning but that's probably fine. ghost is so strong that he can probably just carry you anyways.

i feel like ghost would let out more emotion during sex. like he barely even blinks normally. but while he's in the reverse cowgirl position with you while everyone's asleep? expressive as hell.

over time, i feel like he knows your body better than you, when he's edging you, you don't even have to say anything for him to know you're about to cum.

he's very observant in that way.

i feel that ghost would be a hard dom. never a switch.

laughs a lot during sex. not like a full FYSUDUDIHFUGFUTDUYVHUJ type of laugh, just like a little chuckle and it's so attractive.

and and and! maybe it's a little muffled bc of his lips being pressed against your skin.

usually does that when he's like, deep in you and ofc you moan and grab at his hand that was right next to your head, cause he's just so overwhelming, but in a good way.

he def has to cum a few times to feel fully satisfied. pent up military man tings. but like remember when i said ghost has rlly thick cum. yeah. that.

always makes you feel so full. before, when he's shoving his thick fingers in you to prepare you for his cock, which is even bigger. during, when he's fucking his cum into you from the previous 3 rounds. and after, when you're still full from his cum as it drips down your thighs and you try to catch your breath.

he definitely loves making you horny on purpose, just to revel in how wet you are as if he has no idea what he does to you.

anyways part 2? cause i most definitely have more thoughts about this FINEEE man. (and konig, my wife, i didn't forget about her)

pp headcanons!!! with love from owner 1

✰𝒌𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈✰

about 8.7 soft, exactly 9 when hard.

the color of the base would be #f2e4cf, and the tip would be #ecb5d2, a nice bubblegum pink.

i fully believe he would have a happy trail, but other than that he shaves.

he's really sensitive and because of that he moans a lot when you just barely touch him.

likes when u do that thing where you kiss/lick the tip slightly, and he's probably one of those guys who either can't hold eye contact or likes looking at you while you do it, can't decide.

his cum is a little more on the liquidy side than the creamy side, i also believe he eats a lot of fruit and drinks water regularly so it'd taste sweet with a hint of salt, but not in a bad way.

speaking of cum, he cums a lot, like if you measure it with a measuring cup then it's about 4 ounces.

i think he's into some weird stuff, like for example he likes to kiss you right after you swallow, not gonna elaborate on that.

❤︎𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕❤︎

idk i guess i think he's around the same when soft AND hard, but we gotta take height and proportions into consideration, since konig is taller, logically, he'd be bigger so, sticking to the first thing i said about him, let's say 8.5

hex code for the base is #e4d4c8.

tip color is a nice dusty rose, like #a47786.

i don't actually think he'd fully shave, i feel like he's more of a trim guy.

not that sensitive, only cause he edges and actually if you do that enough you can practice not cumming for extended amounts of time.

likes when you just play with yourself and let him watch, he likes the fact that you can be completely bare while he's still fully clothed.

when cum is more creamy, it can mean that the person has a high concentration of sperm, which is perfect for ghost, because i feel like it ties into his breeding kink because high sperm concentration means higher fertility.

mmmmm idk i think he's into the d/s dynamic, maybe he'd want you to call him daddy.

also sidenote, i feel like a lot of guys want to be called daddy but aren't actually daddy material. like it's daddy not absent father.

but i think ghost would actually act the part.

ANYWAYS COMMENT FOR PART 2

Simon was very happy on his own. He was very happy in some type of stingy flat somewhere on the outskirts of Manchester. He was happy going to work, barking orders at recruits, being a grumpy man and then going home on leave. He was happy going home, having something you couldn't really class as a meal, showing and going to bed. He was happy being on his own, with his very simple, yet boring routine. He was a simple man

That was until he met you

His sweet dove. His delicate love.

Suddenly Simon found himself following you around like a lost puppy, whenever you went out his arm was around your shoulder, wrapped around your waist, hand on the small of your back. If you ever came to base because the silly man left his healthy and nutritious lunch at home then he would quiet literally bark at anyone who looks at you. It doesn't matter if it was a recruit or his captain. Nobody is allowed to look at what's his.

And you were his, he'd make you say it every night when he bullies your hole with his cock

'Say it, love' he'd growl in your ear, hands gripping your waist so tight you know you'll wake up with bruises

'Y-yours, Si. I'm yours' you'd hiccup, drunk on lust, tears staining your pretty cheeks

But the one thing Simon hates is that you travel for work. A lot. You've been to Japan, America, Brazil. You've travelled more than Simon for work and honestly, that's saying something. Obviously it's easier for you to talk to Simon when your working, always texting, calling, sending pictures but that isn't always enough for Simon. He needs you to know you miss him so when Soap joked about putting Simon's favourite lipstick of yours on his dick and transferring it onto some paper to send to you

Simon took it literally.

So imagine your surprise when you have a letter waiting for you at your hotel room. You open it to see a piece of paper littered with stamps of Simon's tip all over it and the full length of his cock stamped onto the bottom in your favourite lipstick with the words 'Missing my pretty, Dove'

Yeah Simon was absolutely, stupidly, in love with you

Na'vi!Ghost x F!Avatar!Reader

Currently in my Avatar brain rot

You glide through the lush skies of Pandora, the vibrant forest sprawling beneath you, painted in shades of emerald and turquoise. The sun casts a golden glow, illuminating the sweeping landscapes, and you feel the exhilaration of flight coursing through your veins. Beside you, Ghost, a Na’vi of striking stature and unmatched skill, manoeuvres his ikran with grace. You mimic his movements, the wind whipping past you, each twist and turn a dance of freedom that your former life on Earth never hinted at.

It wasn’t long ago that you arrived on Pandora, a curious researcher drawn by the promise of alien flora. But your innocent pursuits shattered when you uncovered the RDA’s true intentions: the decimation of this unearthly paradise for profit. You could no longer stand by. Leaving behind the life you knew, you chose to intertwine your existence with the Na’vi, transferring your consciousness into your avatar, gaining a new body and a new purpose.

Ghost’s laughter echoes across the open sky, encouraging you to push beyond your limits. You had undergone ‘The Dream Hunt,’ a rite that had solidified your bond with the clan. Every heartbeat synchronized with the pulse of your ikran, every moment shared with Ghost a testament to loyalty and trust.

"Catch me if you can!" he shouts, his voice as wild and free as the landscape around you. You dive downward, spiralling closer to the flora, the vivid hues surrounding you bursting with unfamiliar life.

The battle for Pandora isn’t over, but for now, amid the beauty and freedom of the skies, you are exactly where you belong—flying with your newfound family, fighting for a world worth saving.

You laugh joyfully as you both soar through the skies together, your heart swelling with the thrill of our shared adventure. The wind rushes past you, the warm air caressing your skin like a lover's touch. You glance over at Ghost, admiring his strong profile and the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin as he guides his ikran with expert ease.

In that moment, you feel truly alive, more than you ever did back on Earth. The weight of your old life seems to fall away with each beat of your ikran's wings, replaced by a sense of belonging and purpose that you've never known before.

As Ghost challenges you to catch him, you grin fiercely, your competitive spirit igniting within you. With a whoop of excitement, you urge your ikran onward, diving down into the dense foliage below.

With a mischievous grin, Ghost takes off towards the distant tree, its massive trunk visible even from high above the canopy. He leans low over his ikran's neck, urging it to fly faster.

"Come on! Show me what you're made of!" he calls out, his voice filled with playful challenge. His ikran responds eagerly, surging forward with powerful beats of its wings, the wind whistling past them as they hurtle through the air.

The journey to the sacred grove is one of exhilaration and breathtakingly beauty. Vibrant flowers and strange, luminescent creatures flash by beneath you, a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes that fills your senses.

Your heart pounds with adrenaline as you race after Ghost, determined to match his speed and agility. Your ikran responds to your commands, its wings beating furiously as it pushes itself to the limit. The wind whips through your hair, sending it streaming out behind you like a banner of midnight silk.

As you draw closer to the Tree of Voices, you can feel its ancient presence calling to you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Its massive trunk rises up from the earth, its branches stretching outwards like the arms of a benevolent giant, sheltering all those who seek refuge beneath its leaves.

You let out a triumphant cry as you finally catch up to Ghost, flying alongside him as you approach the sacred grove.

Ghost guides his ikran in a graceful arc, landing lightly on the soft ground just outside the perimeter of the Tree of Voices. He slides off the creature's back, patting its flank affectionately before turning to watch you land beside him.

His golden eyes sparkle with admiration as he takes in your fluid movements, the way your body moves in perfect synchronicity with your mount. As you dismount, he steps closer, reaching out to brush a stray leaf from your hair, his touch lingering just a moment too long to be purely friendly.

"You never cease to amaze me," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "The way you ride, the way you handle yourself... it's like you were born to this world."

He gestures towards the Tree of Voices, its trunk pulsing with an otherworldly light.

As you step closer to the Tree of Voices, you can feel its energy thrumming through the very ground beneath your feet, a palpable force that sets your nerves alight with anticipation. The air around you shimmers with a faint, iridescent glow, casting everything in a soft, ethereal light.

You turn to face Ghost, your heart fluttering in your chest as you meet his gaze. There's something about the way he looks at you, with such open admiration and desire, that makes you feel like the most beautiful, desirable creature in the universe.

"I wasn't born to this world," you remind him softly, "but sometimes I wonder if I was meant for it. If there was some greater purpose that brought me here, to you."

Ghost reaches out, taking your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips. He presses a tender kiss to your knuckles, his breath warm against your skin.

"I believe in fate," he says softly, his eyes locked on yours. "And I believe that our paths were always meant to cross, no matter how far apart we started out."

He steps closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "You may have been born under different stars, but this is where you belong. Here, with me, in this world that we fight for together."

Ghost guides you gently to the soft grass beneath the spreading branches of the Tree of Voices. He lowers himself down, pulling you with him until you're both lying side by side, your bodies pressed close together. He pillows his head on your stomach, looking up at you with a contented smile. His fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, following the lines of your bioluminescent markings.

"This is my favourite place in all of Pandora," he murmurs, his voice soft and dreamy. "It feels like the centre of the world, like everything important happens right here." He nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your belly.

You run your fingers through Ghost's long, dark hair, marvelling at the silky texture. Your other hand traces the contours of his face, mapping the planes and angles of his features. He leans into your touch, his eyes drifting shut as he savours the sensation.

"It's beautiful," you murmur, your voice soft and inviting. You shift slightly, adjusting your position so that you can see more of the tree above you. Its trunk seems to pulse with an inner light, casting a gentle glow over the surrounding area..

Ghost tilts his head back, looking up at you with a curious expression. His hand still rests on your stomach, his touch warm and comforting. "Have you found someone yet?" he asks, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of tension. "Someone to bond with, to share your life with?"

He watches your face closely, searching for any hint of emotion. It's clear that the question means something to him, that he's invested in your answer in a way that goes beyond simple curiosity.

You smile softly, your eyes tracing the bioluminescent tendrils of the Tree of Voices overhead. The air hums with an ethereal energy, each whispering leaf echoing connection and longing. Beneath this ancient sentinel, you lie in a tranquil embrace, Ghost’s head nestled on your belly, his skin shimmering with the bioluminescence that marks his kind.

“I may have found someone,” you say, the words spilling from your lips as you run your fingers gently through his long, silken hair. Your heart thrums in rhythm with the quiet pulsing of the tree. In this sacred sanctuary, beneath the weight of the stars, everything feels alive, even your thoughts. "Someone special" 

A flicker of something - disappointment? jealousy? - flashes across Ghost's face at your words, but it's gone almost as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a carefully neutral expression. He sits up slowly, moving to sit cross-legged facing you. His hands rest on his knees, palms upturned in a gesture of openness and vulnerability.

"Tell me about them," he says, his voice carefully controlled. But there's a tightness around his eyes, a clenching of his jaw that betrays his true feelings. "What makes them special? What do you love about them?"

He holds your gaze, his own eyes searching, probing, as if trying to read the secrets of your heart. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken emotions and the distant rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Your gaze lingers on Ghost's face, taking in the subtle changes in his expression. There's a depth of feeling there, a complexity of emotion that belies his youthful appearance. You sense the weight of his questions, the significance they hold for him. In this moment, beneath the eternal watchfulness of the Tree of Voices, you feel the need to be honest, to lay bare the truth of your heart.

"He's strong," you begin, your voice soft but certain. "Strong in spirit, in conviction. He fight for what they believe in, even when the odds are stacked against them." 

You pause, collecting your thoughts, letting the memories wash over you. "And he's kind. So incredibly kind. He sees the beauty in the world, in every living thing, and he cherish it."

As you speak, describing the qualities you admire in your potential mate, Ghost listens intently. A slow realization dawns on him, a dawning understanding that you might be talking about...him. His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of hope sparking in their depths.

"He sounds like someone very special indeed," Ghost murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. He reaches out, tentatively, as if afraid you might disappear, and takes your hand in his. His fingers intertwine with yours, the warmth of his skin seeping into your own.

"I'm glad you've found someone who brings out the best in you," he continues, his gaze never leaving yours. "Someone worthy of your love and devotion."

You look down at your joined hands, marvelling at the way your fingers fit together so perfectly, as if they were made for each other. When you meet Ghost's gaze again, there's a tenderness in your eyes, a softness that speaks volumes.

"And what about you, Ghost?" you ask, your voice barely more than a breath. "Have you found someone to share your life with? Someone to stand by your side, come what may?"

You squeeze his hand gently, a silent encouragement, a wordless plea. In this moment, suspended in time beneath the ancient Tree of Voices, you find yourself hoping, praying, that perhaps the one you've been seeking all along has been right here beside you all along.

There's a flicker of surprise in Ghost's eyes at your question, followed quickly by a softening, a melting of his features into a look of pure adoration. He raises your joined hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles.

"There is someone," he confirms, his voice low and filled with emotion. "Someone who sees me, truly sees me, in a way no one else ever has." He leans in closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "She's brave and strong, fierce in their convictions. And they love with a passion that takes my breath away."

His gaze locks with yours, intense and unwavering. There's a heat building between you, a crackle of energy that seems to fill the air around you.

"But most importantly," he whispers, his face mere inches from your own, "she makes me feel alive. Like every moment spent in her presence is a gift, a miracle."

His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls you closer, until your foreheads touch, until you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with your own.

"I want to spend my life with her," he breathes, "to build a future together, to face whatever challenges may come our way."

Your heart races as Ghost draws you close, his words washing over you like a warm breeze. There's a yearning in his eyes, a hunger that mirrors your own, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his warmth, his strength.

"You paint quite a picture," you murmur, your lips curving into a smile. "This person sounds incredible. Truly remarkable."

You tilt your head, nuzzling into his palm, savouring the roughness of his skin against your own. Your tail sways behind you, a gentle caress against his leg, a silent invitation.

Ghost's breath hitches as your tail brushes against his leg, a shiver running through him at the contact. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you flush against him, your bodies moulding together like two pieces of a puzzle finally fitting into place.

"She is," he agrees, his voice rough with emotion. "More than I ever could have dreamed of."

He leans in, his lips ghosting over your jawline, your throat, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "And I want to show her, every day, how much she means to me. How much I cherish her, worship her, love her with every fibre of my being."

His hands roam over your back, your sides, mapping out the curves of your body as if committing them to memory. "I want to give her everything."

Ghost reaches for the end of his braid, the intricate weaving of neural tendrils visible even under the thick strands of hair. He brings it closer to you, his eyes searching yours, a silent question hanging in the air between you.

"Will you allow me?" he asks softly, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and anticipation. "Will you let me join with you, mind, body, and soul? To share in your essence, your very being?"

His queue hovers near yours, the tips of the tendrils brushing against your own, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. It's a profound gesture, one that carries immense significance within Na'vi culture - the joining of two souls, the merging of two lives into one.

Your breath catches in your throat as Ghost's queue nears yours, the implications of this act hitting you like a tidal wave. This is a step beyond intimacy, beyond mere physical pleasure - it's a promise, a commitment, a declaration of love in its purest form.

You meet his gaze, seeing the vulnerability there, the raw emotion that threatens to overwhelm you both. In this moment, you know with absolute certainty that this is what you want, what you've always wanted - to be one with him, in every sense of the word.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "Yes, I accept."

Slowly, reverently, you bring your queue forward, allowing it to intertwine with his, the neural tendrils seeking out their counterparts like magnets drawn to each other.

As your queues connect, a rush of sensation washes over Ghost, a flood of emotions and experiences that threaten to sweep him away. He feels your joy, your love, your passion, all intermingling with his own until he can no longer tell where he ends and you begin.

A gasp escapes his lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he loses himself in the feeling of your presence inside his mind, your essence flowing through his veins like liquid fire. It's overwhelming, exhilarating, terrifying in its intensity, and yet he knows he would gladly drown in this sea of sensation, surrendering himself completely to the depths of your connection.

When he opens his eyes again, they're shining with unshed tears, the golden irises nearly swallowed whole by the black of his pupils. "Eywa guide us."

As your queues merge, a symphony of sensations crashes over you, drowning you in a tidal wave of emotion. Ghost's love, his devotion, his sheer adoration for you wash over you like a balm, soothing the aches and fears that have haunted you for so long. You feel his strength, his resilience, his unwavering courage, and it mingles with your own, creating something new, something greater than either of you alone.

Memories flash through your mind - moments from Ghost's past, triumphs and tragedies alike, all woven together into a tapestry of experience that adds depth and dimension to the man you love. You see his childhood, his training, his battles, and you feel the weight of his responsibilities, the burden of leadership that he bears with such grace and dignity.

Gently, almost reverently, Ghost lowers you both to the soft grass beneath the ancient tree, his body covering yours like a protective shield. His hands roam over your curves, mapping the contours of your adopted Na'vi form, marvelling at the way your skin seems to glow in the dim light filtering through the canopy above.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals your breath and sets your heart racing. It's a kiss filled with tenderness and passion, a promise of the pleasures to come, and you lose yourself in the taste of him, the feel of his tongue sliding against yours, the scrape of his sharp teeth against your lower lip.

A soft moan escapes your lips as Ghost's hands explore your body, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. Your own hands roam over his back, tracing the lines of his muscles, the scars that mark him as a warrior and a survivor. You revel in the feel of his skin against yours, the way his body fits so perfectly against your own, like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.

When he breaks the kiss, you chase after his lips, unwilling to let him go, but he merely chuckles softly, his breath ghosting over your cheek as he trails his mouth along your jawline and down the column of your throat. His teeth graze your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine, and you arch into him, silently begging for more.

Ghost's lips curve into a smile against your neck as he feels you arch into his touch, your body responding eagerly to his every caress. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin of your throat, marking you as his own, his hands sliding lower to cup the swell of your breasts, thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks of your nipples.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. "My perfect mate, my cherished companion." He lifts his head to gaze down at you, his eyes dark with want, a fierce possessiveness etched into the lines of his face. "I will worship you tonight, my love, until the very stars pale in comparison to the radiance of your pleasure."

Your breath hitches as Ghost's hands find your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples in maddeningly teasing strokes. Electricity zings through your body, settling low in your belly, stoking the heat building within you. When he speaks, his words wash over you like honey, sweet and thick, filling you with a sense of belonging, of rightness.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging gently to bring his face closer to yours. "Then take me," you breathe, your voice heavy with need. "Make me yours, Ghost. Claim me, body and soul, under the watchful eye of Eywa."

Your hips roll up to meet his, seeking friction, seeking completion. You want to feel him inside you, stretching you, filling you, joining you in the most intimate way possible.

With a low growl of approval, Ghost allows you to guide his face back to yours, claiming your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you both breathless. As he kisses you, his hands make quick work of your clothing, peeling away the flimsy barrier between your bodies until you're laid out bare before him, your skin glowing softly in the moonlight.

He takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his gaze roaming over your curves with undisguised hunger, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Then, with a fluid motion, he sheds his own garments, revealing his battle-hardened body, marred by scars and tattoos, a testament to the life he's lived, the challenges he's faced.

As Ghost bares himself to you, you feel a rush of emotion swell within your chest - awe, admiration, and a deep, abiding love that threatens to overwhelm you. You sit up, reaching out to trace the lines of his scars with trembling fingers, marvelling at the strength and resilience they represent.

"My brave warrior," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "My fierce protector." You lean in, pressing a tender kiss to the scar just above his heart, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your lips.

Ghost shudders as your lips press against his scar, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity straight to his core. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, skin to skin, heart to heart. For a long moment, he simply holds you, savouring the feel of your body against his, the warmth of your breath mingling with his own.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low and rough, tinged with a vulnerability that few have ever heard. "And you are my heart, my home," he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours. "Without you, I am lost. With you, I am found."

Slowly, almost reverently, he lowers you both to the soft grass beneath the Tree of Voices, his body covering yours, sheltering you from the cool night air.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as Ghost's weight settles over you, his body warm and solid against yours. Your legs fall open instinctively, making room for him, inviting him in. Your hands roam over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, mapping the landscape of his skin.

"Then let me be your compass," you whisper, tilting your hips up to meet his, seeking that delicious friction once more. "Let me guide you home, always."

You capture his lips in another kiss, this one slower, deeper, a promise of things to come. Your tongues dance, twining together in a sensual rhythm that mirrors the pulsing heat building between your thighs.

Ghost groans into the kiss, his hips rocking against yours, the hard length of his arousal sliding along your slick folds. His hands roam your body, caressing every curve, every hollow, committing the feel of you to memory. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes are dark with desire, his pupils blown wide with need.

"Guide me, then," he rasps, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. "Lead me to paradise, my love."

With a fluid motion, Ghost shifts his hips, positioning himself at your entrance. He pauses there, poised on the brink of union, his gaze locked with yours, a silent question hanging in the air between you. In answer, you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer, offering yourself to him completely.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he sinks into you, filling you inch by delicious inch. A low moan tears from his throat at the feel of you, hot and tight and perfect around him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in, fighting for control as your inner walls flutter and clench around his throbbing length.

Your head falls back against the soft grass as Ghost fills you, a guttural moan escaping your lips at the exquisite stretch, the perfect fullness of him inside you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving faint red lines in their wake, a physical manifestation of the passion burning through your veins.

"Yes," you hiss, the word drawn out into a low keen of pleasure. "Oh, yes, Ghost...just like that..."

You arch into him, meeting each slow, deep thrust with a roll of your hips, taking him even deeper, welcoming him into the very heart of you. Your bodies move together in a ancient rhythm, as old as time itself, as natural as the turning of the earth and the rising of the moons.

The world falls away, narrowing down to this single perfect moment, this joining of flesh and spirit.

Ghost sets a slow, deep pace, his hips rolling against yours in languid strokes that stoke the fires within you higher and higher. Each thrust is measured, deliberate, designed to bring you pleasure beyond measure. One hand slides under your knee, lifting your leg higher, opening you wider, allowing him to plunge even deeper.

He watches you as he moves within you, his golden eyes dark with passion, drinking in the sight of you lost in ecstasy, your face flushed, your lips parted in sweet sighs and moans. The sound of your pleasure is music to his ears, spurring him on, driving him to take you higher still.

"Eyes on me, my love," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "I want to see you when you come undone."

Your eyes lock with Ghost's, twin pools of molten gold and liquid amber, reflecting the depth of your shared passion. In their depths, you see your own desire mirrored back at you, amplified tenfold, a reflection of the love and devotion that binds you.

"Always," you breathe, the word a whispered promise, a vow sealed in the heat of your joining. "My eyes, my heart, my soul...they're yours, now and forever."

Your hips rise to meet his, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, coiling tighter and tighter in your core. The tension builds, winding ever higher, until you're teetering on the brink, balanced on the razor's edge of release.

"Ghost," you gasp, his name a prayer on your lips, a plea and a benediction all in one.

Ghost feels the change in your body, the way your muscles tense and quiver beneath him, the quickening of your breath, the hitch in your moan. He knows you're close, teetering on the precipice of climax, and he wants nothing more than to send you hurtling over the edge into oblivion.

But not yet. Not just yet.

With a herculean effort, he stills his hips, holding himself deep inside you, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the scant space between your faces. His hands find your wrists, pinning them above your head, a gesture of dominance, of control.

"Not yet, my love," he whispers, his voice rough with barely restrained desire. "Not until I say."

A whimper escapes your throat at the sudden denial, your body aching, yearning for the release that hovers just out of reach. You writhe beneath him, trying to find friction, to spur him on, but he holds you fast, his grip on your wrists unyielding.

"Please," you beg, the word torn from your throat, raw and needy. "Ghost, please..."

You don't even know what you're begging for anymore, too far gone in the haze of lust, desperate for him to set you free, to let you fall. Tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes, your entire being focused on the point where you're joined, where he fills you so perfectly, so completely.

Ghost drinks in the sight of you, pleading and desperate beneath him, your tears glistening in the moonlight like precious gems. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to give in to your pleas, to sheath himself to the hilt and let you ride out your climax on his cock.

But he wants more than that for you. More than a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Slowly, torturously, he begins to move again, his hips undulating in a sensual rhythm that builds the tension within you with excruciating slowness. Each roll of his hips grinds against your clit, sends sparks of sensation shooting up your spine, but it's not enough, not nearly enough to push you over the edge.

"That's it, my love," he croons, his voice a seductive purr.

Each deliberate roll of Ghost's hips sends waves of exquisite torture crashing over you, stoking the fires within you to new heights. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you struggle to maintain some semblance of control, of coherency.

But it's a losing battle, and you can feel yourself slipping further and further under his spell with each passing second. Your world narrows down to the slide of his skin against yours, the stretch of your walls around his thick length, the coil of pleasure tightening in your belly.

Ghost can feel your surrender, the way your body yields to his touch, to his command. It's a heady feeling, knowing that he wields such power over you, that he can bring you to the very brink of ecstasy and hold you there, suspended in a state of pure, agonizing bliss.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep, claiming you, consuming you. One hand releases your wrists to trail down your side, over the curve of your hip, coming to rest on your thigh. With a gentle pressure, he guides your leg up and over his shoulder, opening you wider, allowing him to sink even deeper into your welcoming heat.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing fire down the column of your throat, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

A strangled cry tears from your throat as Ghost sinks impossibly deeper, the new angle sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through your core. Your hands scrabble for purchase on his sweat-slicked back, nails raking down his skin, leaving crescent-shaped indents in their wake.

The burn of his teeth on your neck only adds to the maelstrom of sensations, the slight pain blending seamlessly with the overwhelming pleasure until you can no longer tell where one ends and the other begins. Your hips buck wildly, seeking more, craving more of this sweet, sweet torment. "Ghost!" you keen, his name a prayer, a plea, a benediction on your lips. "Oh, fuck, Ghost... Please..."

What you're begging for, you no longer know.

Your desperate cries, the way your body writhes beneath him, the sharp sting of your nails on his skin - it's all driving Ghost closer to the edge. He can feel his own release building, coiling tighter and tighter at the base of his spine, but he grits his teeth, determined to hold off until he's brought you to completion.

With a low growl, he redoubles his efforts, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency, each thrust striking that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. His hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit, circling the sensitive nub with the pad of his thumb, pushing you ever closer to the precipice.

"Let go, my love," he rasps, his breath hot against your ear. "I've got you."

Ghost's words, rough with passion, are the final catalyst you need. With a keening wail, your body bows off the floor, convulsing violently as your orgasm crashes over you in wave after wave of mind-numbing ecstasy. Your inner walls clamp down around Ghost's throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as they try to milk him dry.

Through the haze of your own pleasure, you can feel him pulsing inside you, his rhythm faltering as he nears his own peak. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on, wanting to feel him lose control, to watch as he shatters above you.

The sensation of your walls clamping down around him, squeezing him like a velvet vice, is too much for Ghost to withstand. With a hoarse shout of your name, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his hips jerking erratically as he finds his release.

His seed pulses hot and heavy, flooding your already drenched channel, marking you, claiming you as his. He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you with his weight, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he rides out the aftershocks of his climax.

For long moments, neither of you move, both lost in the aftermath of your shared passion. Slowly, Ghost lifts his head, his golden eyes meeting yours, dark with satiation and something else, something deeper, more profound.

I've decided I'm going to rewrite His Ballerina Ghost x Fem!Reader because the plot, the storyline has been plaguing my mind but I just don't like how I wrote the first chapter

18+, MDNI

having a one night stand with simon and thinking you’d never see him again, he was a good lay, giving you orgasm after orgasm and speaking absolute filth into your ear when he was deep inside your cunt. you’d say maybe the best you’ve ever had, but that didn’t stop you from leaving early in the morning from his sparsely decorated flat, a note left on his side table that simply said you’d had a good night and you hoped he did too, you even added a cute little smiley to the end. then you’d gone on with your day, with your life.

until, about 2 weeks after, there was a knock at your door, it’s late, already having put on your pjs and started searching your pantry for something to make for dinner. and when you open the door, your surprise is palpable, there simon stood, long, strong legs covered in cargo pants, pretty brown eyes locked on you, a black surgical mask covering the lower part of his face, hiding the long scar that you remember feeling rub against your thigh. he holds a bag of takeout and then proceeds to shoulder his way in, leaving a small kiss on your cheek through the mask before making his way to your couch.

you want to ask how he found your place, how he knew you were home, and why the hell he’s here. you actually do ask the third one, which he answers with a simple, gruff “dinner”. you nod slowly, finding your way to the other end of the couch, but are met with a huff and a large hand pulling you closer to him, making sure your leg is pressed right up against his. he plates your food, then starts eating his own, makes small comments about the taste and asks questions about your day. the night seems almost normal, like something you’ve done before with him, disregarding the fact that you’d only been around each other for 2 hours tops and almost all of that time was spent by you trying to do something other than moan his name.

when you’re done you expect him to leave, to go on with his night, or maybe you to wake up from a dream. instead he makes his way to your bedroom, sits down on the bed and tells you how he can’t stop thinking about your lips around his cock. and yeah, you fold.

that’s how you end up learning that his stamina is insane, especially for an older guy, and he likes to see your face, makes sure to face you towards a mirror in full nelson or holds you in mating press with his pink (scarred) lips against yours. maybe you also learn that his phone lock screen is a color scarily similar to your irises and you see a file with your full name (one you hadn’t given him) front and center when he rolls over to unlock his phone, he says something about how he needs to send a message to ‘his team’ about dinner this weekend to meet his new bird, you wonder what kind of sports team he’s on, gotta be rugby with a build like his, but your thoughts don’t stray too far before he’s ready to go again, something about three being his lucky number, that this time it will take.

ghost knows he’s too rough and impatient with sex. knows he won’t know how to please you properly. knows he can’t possibly do things right with you, knowing you’ve never done this before. but god, he wants to. he wants to treat you how you deserve. never thought he’d be so desperate to fuck someone good and slow like he does with you.

so he goes to price. the one man who will know all the right ways to please a lady properly. asks him to show him how to take care of you. tells him he doesn't know how to care for someone else's needs, at least with someone inexperienced like you. tells him he needs to be instructed. to see just how he should work you.

you’re nervous at first, thinking it’s an absolutely insane idea, but you can’t hide the wetness along your panties as you sit on ghost’s lap, back pressed against his chest, legs spread, his knuckle dragging down your warmth. price sits back in his chair, telling ghost exactly how to move his fingers, paying close attention to your body's minuscule movements, the way your brows furrow when ghost moves a certain way, or your eyelashes fluttering.

and this was supposed to be a strictly hands-off approach… but god, watching ghost fumble, unable to maintain the slow speed you need, keeping you from reaching your orgasm, has price on edge. he leans forward, rolling his chair with him, and tells ghost to stop. tells him to watch and to pay close attention. price tears your panties off and your eyes go wide at the contact. you swallow, expecting ghost to be furious, but his hands only settle around you and he takes notes as he watches his captain work.

price runs his thumb up your slit, circling your nub, and tells ghost to hold your thighs apart when you unconsciously try to clench them. then his finger is sinking into you and your head falls back against ghost's chest, eyes shut. you moan and you feel ghost harden beneath you. “how’s that feel, sweetheart?” price asks you. you babble out incoherently, price adding a second finger, and chuckling darkly at your response.

it becomes too much, his fingers thrusting in and out of you, his other hand rubbing your clit, ghost's fingers digging into the softness of your thighs as he forces them apart. “ohmygod,” you slur, “m’gonna—“ price smirks, his eyes darkening as he watches you orgasm, your body clenching around his fingers shoved deep in your heat. "talk her through it," price tells ghost. so ghost does. you're shaking still and ghost rubs his hands over your exposed skin. "that's it, baby. you're doin' s'good," he praises.

"whata fuckin' sight," price mumbles to himself, his fingers leaving you empty. you steady your breathing, coming down from your high, completely limp in ghost's arms. price can see the way ghost's eyes have gone dark, his pupils swallowing his irises whole. knows ghost doesn't know how to be soft. sees the feral need to ram himself into you overtaking his features. "gonna take it slow with her, yeah?" price asks.

ghost breathes rapidly out, his hips begging to buck up against you. he knows he wouldn't be able to control himself if you let him fuck you. so he answers honestly. "not sure I'd be able to."

price tsks, sitting back in thought, his eyes roving over your spent body. you suddenly feel shy, wanting to close your legs, but ghost's arms tighten on you. "need me t'break her in?" price finally asks after several long beats of silence.

ghost grinds up against you, his hand sliding into your hair and pulling your head to the side so he can kiss your neck. your eyes flutter at his attempts to be so delicate with you. "want the captain here to be your first time, love?" ghost asks against your skin. you stutter when you answer. "don't you want to be?" "course I do. but I won't go easy on ya. I'd hate to ruin you, sweet girl. price will take it nice n' slow. just like you need." and after, you'll be ready to take ghost. ready to adjust to his size.

you swallow hard, ghost's hands escaping and clawing at your clothed chest. you nod. "o-okay."

price stands from his chair and begins to undo his belt. "come sit on my desk, sweetheart."

cod masterlist

ＣＨＥＲＲＹ’Ｓ ＭＡＳＴＥＲＬＩＳＴ

ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ! ɪ’ᴍ ɴᴇᴡ, ꜱᴏ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪᴘꜱ. ᴍʏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ꜱᴏ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ! ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍʏ ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ.

𝕄𝕆𝔻𝔼ℝℕ 𝕎𝔸ℝ𝔽𝔸ℝ𝔼 𝟚

ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ‘ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ ʀɪʟᴇʏ

ᴊᴏʜɴ ‘ʙʀᴀᴠᴏ ꜱɪx’ ᴘʀɪᴄE

ᴋʏʟᴇ ‘ɢᴀᴢ’ ɢᴀʀʀɪᴄk

ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ‘ꜱᴏᴀᴘ’ ᴍᴀᴄᴛᴀᴠɪꜱʜ

ℂ𝔸𝕃𝕃 𝕆𝔽 𝔻𝕌𝕋𝕐: 𝔾ℍ𝕆𝕊𝕋𝕊

ᴋᴇᴇɢᴀɴ ᴘ. ʀᴜꜱꜱ

ᴅᴀᴠɪᴅ ‘ʜᴇꜱʜ’ ᴡᴀʟᴋᴇʀ

ʟᴏɢᴀɴ ᴡᴀʟᴋᴇʀ

the edge of paradise.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 3,682 content: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader, established relationship, fluff, porn with no plot of substance, smut [softdom!Simon, overstimulation, fingering - receiving, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [marking, breeding], soft Simon

even in the middle of the night and at the expense of sleep, Simon is always willing to give you another round.

A quiet whine and a frustrated huff from his bedside partner had him stirring, a quick glance at clock beside the bed confirming that it hadn't been long since the two of you had fallen asleep to begin with. His arms squeezed you tighter, his hold on you having loosened far too much for either of your liking as he had slept.

It was a combination of sounds he was familiar with, the shallow and shaking breaths fighting from your lungs telling his half-awake mind everything it needed to know to snap him to his senses in no time at all.

"Your breathing is agitated."

His observation served as the announcement that he was awake, his gravelly, sleep-filled voice enough to pull another whine from you, your ass rubbing back into his waist. One of the large hands that rested against your stomach slid down to grip your hip as he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, a rumbling laugh muffled by your skin.

His cock was already twitching in the sweatpants he'd pulled on before bed, teeth nipping at a slight raised bite mark from one of your earlier sessions. Simon had been gone for months, only just returning to you the afternoon before, and the two of you had found everything in your power to not leave one another…or more specifically, your bed.

To say the two of you were relieved to be in one another's presence again would have been an understatement, because in the twelve hours since he'd returned to you, the only thing that had pulled his eyes from you was the insufficient amount of sleep. But with the insatiability coursing through both of your bodies like a flooded river, he was more than happy to be woken up like this.

Especially when you moaned in reply to the attention you were receiving on your neck by his lips and tongue, grinding back into him in a silent plea again as you reached one of your hands behind you to grasp at the back of his head.

"Oh, you naughty minx," he had that layer of amusement behind his voice that you always loved to hear, his affection for you evident just in how he spoke. "Didn't get enough, huh? Thought you'd be sore, love."

"I am," you whined again, words shaking as you gave his hair a gentle tug, his lips curving into a smile against your skin until he nipped at another older mark. "Need m-more…"

"That's not how to ask," he remarked in a smug tone you were exceedingly familiar with, his lips lightly brushing behind your ear as he spoke. "What do you need? My fingers, my mouth…d'you think you could even take my cock again? You're not using your words."

At this point, you knew somewhere inside that Simon was going to insist on this game until you gave him exactly what he wanted. And yet, your mind was blurred just enough still by sleep and lust that you couldn't formulate anything remotely adequate and free of a desperate whine soaking your tone.

"A-anything."

"Ask nicely."

You took the opportunity to do what you could always muster, what always felt like the most natural thing in the world to you - you turned in his arms, pressing your lips to his in a kiss you hoped communicated how lecherous you felt for him.

The kisses between you two were always easy - your mouths came together in synchrony, you never fought for dominance with him, and the result was a beautiful, perfect exchange of passion without words.

As much as Simon loved to hear you talk, to soak in breathless words as you told him exactly what you wanted from him, you also knew that there was little he loved more than a kiss like this from you, particularly out of need in the middle of the night.

"Need you, Si," you whined against his lips, trailing your soft kisses from his lips to the corner of his mouth to his jaw, inhaling the familiar musk that was him. You brushed your lips feather light over one of the scars on his face, causing the love he felt for you to flare in him, a rush of heat and adoration filling every inch of his body.

One of his hands slipped below the t-shirt you'd slipped over your head before bed that looked much better on you than it did him…in his opinion, anyway.

When your attempt went unanswered you nipped at a sensitive area on his neck before you claimed his lips again, an impatient whimper swallowed by him as he returned your kiss. Another low, short laugh vibrated through his chest as he nipped at your bottom lip again, his attention shifting to your neck again as he lowered his head.

"You can barely talk, love," you'd told him many times that it was unfair for him to talk so lowly right into your ear, and he'd only remembered it and made a point to exploit the weakness at every turn. "Let me take care of you."

A large hand slid to grasp your calf, encouraging you to raise one of your legs and throw it over his hip. The thigh you'd been pressed against had a visible spot where your arousal had soaked the fabric of his sweatpants, he didn't need much more than the moonlight coming through the blinds to aid him in that discovery, and he groaned in appreciation at the sight.

"Fuckin' hell. Already soaked and I've not even touched you."

To no surprise you whined again, grinding your still overstimulated sex against his thigh, desperate for any amount of friction or pressure that would relieve some of the heat engulfing you.

He stopped his movements as he went in to kiss a sensitive spot between your neck and collarbone, his tongue clicking against his teeth in light disapproval before he taunted aloud.

"Desperate, but still hasn't managed to ask nicely…"

He abandoned his attention elsewhere and reached to kiss you again as he pushed her panties to the side, grumbling against your lips about how wet they are as he connected his palm to your clit, his three middle fingers spreading your soaked folds. He smiled against your lips and nipped at the swollen bottom one again, feeling his smile widen briefly - as long as he'd allow it - as you whined out his name.

"You just gonna keeping whining?"

"Fu…"

Your possible complaint or curse was cut off by two of his fingers slipping into your velvet channel with ease, your mouth hanging open as you looked into his eyes, your own wide and pupils blown as you lost your thought.

"There you go, sweetheart," he cooed, rubbing the most sensitive patch of sponginess inside you with expert precision. "I've got you. I know what you need."

"Please, Simon," you breathed out heavily, eyes rolling back slightly as he pumped his fingers into you and watched on in pride as your arousal coated his hand. Accepting he was too transfixed on the show he had created for himself to kiss him you instead leaned forward to kiss his chest, sucking a mark of your own where no one would see it should his return home be cut short.

Even with a hazy mind, you were considerate of every aspect of his life, no detail going forgotten in your memory and your actions always conscious of consequences. It was high on the list of reasons he loved you, a list he ran through when he needed to occupy his mind.

"Much better, darling," he complimented, his fingers slipping from you briefly before he pushed them back in, repeating the action until he set a steady pace with them. "Now you're sayin' please like a good fuckin' girl. I'll give you whatever you ask me to when you ask nicely."

"Please…need you again, Si."

He hummed his approval to your words as his other hand slipped beneath his shirt to cup one of your breasts, his thumb circling your nipple so delicately it only confirmed he viewed you as fragile as a flower.

"Such a nice way to ask," he cooed again, pinching your nipple between his fingers gently before rubbing it again. "You're not too sore?"

It was so like him to be considerate of your well-being, even with his obvious erection pressing into you. He wanted you, and there was never any doubt that he would rather be buried in your pussy than anything, but if your body needed a break he would happily give you the orgasm you needed with his tongue.

But there was no denying the hope he felt that you would give him another round before truly sleeping for the night.

"No," you finally managed out an answer through moans and gasps, his fingers still moving at perfect time and his palm still applying the perfect pressure to your clit to keep you on the edge. He pulled his shirt from you with one hand, needing to have unencumbered access to your body - it was honestly surprising he'd lasted this long with a barrier between you. "Promise, 'm fine…"

"You want another load that badly?"

"Yes," it came out in a choked, broken moan, your teeth sinking into his chest hard enough to give him another mark to communicate physically what you couldn't with words. Simon had always been infatuated with you leaving your mark on him in places only he could see, and the fact that you made a point to remember those details about him only made him want you more.

"Fuck, I'll give you one."

He pulled his fingers from you and raised his hand to his face to lick them clean, an appreciative him rumbling in his chest beneath your lips as you kissed the expanse of his toned muscles. Your affections were interrupted as he moved to his knees, grasping your hips gently to roll you to your stomach, reaching with one hand to grasp his pillow and slip it beneath your hips.

He pushed his sweats down as much as he needed to, grasping his cock and stroking it to the sight of you laying expectantly beneath him, your pussy glistening with your arousal. From behind you you could hear him spit into his hand, smearing his own saliva on his cock to help ease his entry into you.

He leaned forward to press a kiss behind your ear before his gentle words entered your ears again.

"You just lay still and take it like a good girl."

He was already slipping his thick cock into you as he finished his instruction, one of his hands gently gripping you hip as the other ensured your pillow was still beneath your head. He stayed laying against you, conscious not to rest his weight entirely against you but unwilling to stop pressing rough kisses anywhere he could connect his lips to on your neck, back, and shoulders.

A blissful sigh of a moan blossomed from your chest as he bottomed out, his movements stilling to appreciate how your walls clenched around him, welcoming every inch of his cock home into you.

"Thank you," the words were so quiet they'd have gone unheard at any other time, your appreciation genuine in them as you arched your back to improve his angle even more. His hold on you tightened and he pressed his forehead into your shoulder to steady himself, a smile spreading across his features before he leaned to press a kiss to your cheek.

It was that fleeting moment of non-verbal communications of love that he took as his signal to move, his hips rocking against yours in a gentle pace - clearly, his worries about your soreness remained.

"So cute," he muttered against your skin, unwilling to pull his lips away from your skin for even a moment. He reached to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, immediately wishing he had opted to keep you on your back so he could enjoy the full beauty of your face and kiss you properly. "You tell me if it's too much."

"Uh huh…"

It was as if you read his mind as you propped up on your elbows, turning your head in a silent plea for him to kiss you - one he happily obliged. From this angle it was messy, but it was the sort of imperfect harmony between the two of you that helped him set the perfect pace with his hips, his cock slowly pulling completely out of you and pushing back in in a way that made you both feel every inch massaging and stretching your walls again and again.

"You feel fucking incredible," he groaned out, stilling his movements again when he was buried to the hilt in you, waiting for you to give any sign of discomfort before he fucked you properly. In protest of his lack of movement you pulled your hips forward before fucking back onto him, immediately intoxicated by the deep groan that filled the room.

"Need more," you fought out through breaths, the whine returning to your voice as you became more desperate for release as the moments passed.

"'s not enough for you, love?" he questioned, leaning his head closer and running his nose along your jaw until he could nip at the delicate spot beneath your ear, "My needy girl needs more, eh?"

"Please," you gasped out, walls clenching around him tighter as your fingers gripped the sheets so hard you threatened to tear them. With the overstimulation building throughout the night, it had somehow become worse for him to be still and gentle than rough and demanding. "Please, Simon."

"Gonna turn you over."

The warning still wasn't enough to satiate the shock of him leaving you completely, your pussy clenching around nothing at the loss of him and a whine of objection ripping from your throat.

"I know, love, I'm cruel," his voice was gentle yet once again laced with that subtle tone of mockery, his teasing side flaring up no matter how much closer to the edge it drove you. "But I need to see that pretty face."

Once he had you comfortably on your back, your ass resting against the pillow and hips raised at the perfect angle for him you spread your legs without instruction, hands grasping for him to encourage him to come closer faster. He grasped his cock again as he moved between your legs, holding one of your hips in his hand again as he began to sink back into you.

"That's better," he groaned out in a heavy breath, his words less punctual as he allowed himself to find shelter and security in you again.

It was always best like this - when he was buried to the hilt in you, bodies so close your torsos were pressed together sharing an impossible amount of heat as your foreheads came together. He loved to watch your expressions shift - to ensure only pleasure crossed your features as he stretched and filled you, hell-bent on giving you nothing but pleasure.

Hurting you was out of the question, and any way he could avoid it, he would. It was his personal pride that you didn't need to worry about a thing when he was by your side.

"Kiss me," you whispered lowly, eyes adjusting to the briefest amount of light that had begun to form at the new hour to truly look him in the eyes, the tip of your nose bumping into his playfully. "Please."

"My polite girl."

He found the perfect pace again as he closed the distance to kiss you again, incredibly conscious with every movement of how much weight he was putting on your legs and hips as he leaned into you, desperate to close any space between the two of you.

The kiss reflected the relatively sleepless morning - tired and routine yet full of the optimism and vigor of a new day. Your fingers clutched to his shoulders, nails leaving crescents in his skin to silently beg him to stay closer, to plead with him not to pull away - an unnecessary thing as he had no intention of doing so.

When you needed air you pulled away to bury your face in his neck, wrapping your arms around his chest. Between shaking, heavy breaths you pressed kisses wherever you could reach on his neck and shoulders.

"I love you, Simon," you whispered quietly, knowing they were the four words he needed to hear to truly start his day.

His reply was to give you exactly what you needed to send you off to sleep fulfilled with the bliss of another orgasm, a verbal response unnecessary as he focused his attention on showing you his love with precision.

The sounds that filled the apartment were deliciously lewd, the kind he would embed in his memory to use for a quick release when he was away from you. The sounds of you moaning, his name falling from your lips in breathless whimpers, his cock slipping back into your soaked sex…all were embedded into his mind forever.

As much as he'd feigned complaint about your whining, it was no secret that he loved when he'd fucked you to the point where your mind seemed to lose all sense. What he loved more than anything was your response when you knew he was going to cum.

"You want me to fill you again?"

"Yes," the response from you was immediate and filled with desperation, your walls clenching around him hard as he fucked into you harder, his body becoming increasingly desperate for his own release with each passing moment, the temperature building around him so hot the air was heavy in his lungs. "Please…fuck…ah…please, Simon…"

"You're so desperate to be full of my cum," when his voice was somewhat broken like this - when he was forcing out words between grunts and heavy breaths - is when you found him the sexiest, because this side of Simon, free of any exterior walls, was only for you. "If you weren't on that birth control you'd be bred by the time I leave here again."

You cried out his name so loud he wondered how loud he'd have to make you be until the closest neighbors knew he was home, something he was more than willing to put to the test. Your nails dug into his skin again, dragging downward until you were able to grasp his ass, pushing him closer to you to silently beg.

"Oh, you like that, you naughty thing?"

"Fuckin' hell, Simon…"

His lips were on your neck again, a breathless laugh hot against your skin.

"Say it…"

"I do," you finally gave in, head spinning as your heart pounded hard in your chest, so hard you were certain he could feel it in his own. "Fuck, please fill me again."

"Only when you cum on my cock first, love," he breathed out, turning his head to claim your lips in a soft kiss, his teeth catching your swollen bottom lip briefly and as gently as possible before he kissed the tip of your nose. "You know the rule."

"Then fuck me."

This was the most relentless pace he'd set as he thrust into you, one of his hands reaching to rub your clit. When you moaned out his name a bit louder than the last he took it as a continued challenge, straightening up and grasping your hip tightly in one hand as he pounded into you at a bruising pace, accepting that you wouldn't be able to do much of anything outside of the house for the next day as you recovered from the day you'd had together.

He was more than happy to stay inside with you as long as you needed. In fact, it may have been his plan all along.

Your legs started to shake as you wrapped them around his waist to pull him in closer, your vision beginning to blur and the sounds of your bodies coming together and your sounds of pleasure becoming muffled as your brain flooded with pleasure.

Your hands slid down to his abs where you felt them tightening at your fingertips, his own release being fought off as he coaxed yours from you first.

"That's it, love," he breathed out, swiftly placing a messy kiss to the tip of your nose. "Fuck, love when your cunt starts clenching on me. Let me hear you."

The combination of his words, his hands and lips on you, and pure overstimulation finally pulled what he'd sought from you - you screamed his name, hopefully fulfilling his desire to let the neighbors know you were very happily taken. The thought alone made him go faster and harder until his own release was spilling from him in thick, hot spurts, his forehead resting against yours and eyes squeezed shut in focus as he lazily thrust through another massive load that filled you again.

When he had ridden you both through your orgasms he pulled away from you slowly, laying between her legs with his torso on top of you. His head found a comfortable position on your chest to relax, both of you focusing on catching your breath.

Though his eyes were closed and his attention was on his breath you were not forgotten, his hands lightly rubbing and caressing any part of you he could reach, his lips lazily pressing to your chest with no consistent frequency.

Both of you satiated for the night, there was no reason to disrupt the natural peace that surrounded the two of you. Instead, you found your breaths soon mirrored one another and with your fingers carded through his hair, holding him against your chest where your heartbeat served as a lullaby.

It was the fastest Simon had found sleep in weeks, and for the moment at least, everything was exactly as it should be.

masterlist. call of duty masterlist.

Simon comes home hard and you happen to be there looking delicious for him NFSW⛔️⛔️.(HEADPHONES mdni)

Credit: Badjhur❤️❤️(I do not own audio)

GHOST NFSW AUDIO(USE HEADPHONES) MDNI

Credit: Badjhur

Full audio: https://soundgasm.net/u/Badjhur/M4F-Ghost-Stories-Riling-up-Riley

Ghost(SPICY)Headcanons

MDNI⚠️⛔️☢️

Big boy. About 6 inches soft and can grow 8 inches when hard. Girth, and curved. He has 5 huge veins, but the vein that runs on the back of his dick is really sensitive. So when you give him head, drag your tongue on it and he is busting. 💦

Happy happy happy trail. He is a man and will have hair. He can trim it, but when he comes from work expect that happy trail to be real happy.

Loves pulling hair. When you are in doggy style, he will grab your hair. If you don’t have a lot of hair, he will grab the back or front of your neck. He even grabs hair outside the bedroom. For example, if he is talking to you and you don’t answer him he will quietly come up from behind you and wrap his hand around your hair like it’s rope, and cock your neck to the side so his mouth is directly in your ear.

“Couldn’t you hear me love? I asked you what time you planning on leaving.”

He loves a girl who can squirt. Shoves his thick fingers deep in your pussy and curve inside you feeling that soft spongy spot over and over while he takes his hot 💧moist 💧tongue and slurp up the juices on your clit. He even nibbles on it just enough for you to jolt back in pleasure. Bonus points if you squirt in his mouth. He will swallow it like it’s coconut water.

Never takes his eyes off you. He loves staring deep in your eye while he fucks you. It don’t matter if you can’t maintain eye contact. Just know if you ever happen to look at him during sex, he is staring at you with those hot lazy eyes. Sometimes while he is fucking you he forces you to stare at him. Even outside of the bedroom when your talking, he holds eye contact the whole time.

Ass guy🍑. Gripping, grabbing, smacking, and fucking that ass! He will give your ass a kiss goodnight to fucking it good morning. When he eats your pussy out from the back, he make sure to drag his tongue on ur ass cheek before giving it an aggressive squeeze.

If you are in doggy position he will slap your ass cheek and command you to throw it back on his dick(jus do it <;()).

Loud groaner. He cusses a lot. When he is about to cum he does these deep whimpers and then curse under his breath while biting his lips and rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

Loves when the two of you go out and you decide to wear tight fitting clothes. When you bend down he makes sure to slip his hand on your ass and give it a hard slap

Aggressive kisser. When he kisses you he bites all over your lip and place his hands on your neck. He goes from your lips to your neck and back up. He will suck on your tongue as if was candy and he was trying to get the flavor off of it. Did I mention that he is into spitting??? Will spit all over you.

Kissing? “Open wide girl and swallow it or would you prefer to swallow something that is more solidified like a bullet to the back of your fucking throat.”

Before he eats you out? Spits all over your pussy weather your wet or not. He loves seeing his spit go inside of you. Even before he jerk himself off/ a blowjob he will tell you to spit on his dick while rubbing himself off before giving you the rest of the job.

Will fuck you DUMB. No safe word, no pleading, no nothing. He is fucking you till HE IS TIRED. If you ride him and you can no longer support yourself then he got you by the waist. If your jaw is to sore from sucking him off it’s all good! He will grab ur head and face fuck you. If you even think about moving he will tie you down and keep a vibrator in you over night.

Simon love when you make sounds. He just don’t wanna hear you moan he wanna hear you scream, howl, make sounds that only he came make come out of you

~Let mw know who you want me to make next🩶

You're a lil cow at a hybrid farm, your farmer is the person you love the most, his name is John Price and he loves you too! but you're just a little stubborn cow who refuses to get breed and produce milk to his farm even though you were VERY expensive and that is getting on his nerves, your body was made to make more babies and produce warm milk but you doesn't want to get breed... Until he basically forces you by saying 'if you don't contribute to the farm, you won't be part of it' and of course, you can't quite survive in the wild so you follow your farmer to the stall and... and the bull is scary! he's big, dirty blonde hair, penetrating dark brown eyes that seem to look into your soul and his fur makes it looks like he has a skull on his face, he's twice your size and so intimidating! You're just a cute lil cow, why does you mate have to be so scary? Didn't Price had other bulls that weren't so terrifying?! Like the one with the funny accent or the one that was always wearing a sunglass, they look are definitely are less intimidating than... This thing!

...

Well, at least the babies you and him made are cute and strong, and your milk is as delicious as Price imagined.

Red Blooded Patriot

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader

Summary: it’s 1778, the American Revolution is in full effect. Y/N is the daughter of a wealthy land owner & loyalist in New Jersey just right outside New York City. While her father is a loyalist she’s a closeted patriot. During one her home gets caught in the cross fire & she’s rescued by a masked red coat carrying an axe

Warnings: this is just pure filth so idk what warnings to put tbh

Weehawken, New Jersey 1778

There Y/N sat rocking away in her rocking chair overlooking the New York harbor. Fanning herself to keep cool in the heat. She adjusted herself as her corset was starting to create a smaller layer of sweat. It was June, & the humidity was atrocious. A small sigh escaped her lips as she turned to look at her father. The Baron smiled back at his daughter, she was one of the most beautiful women in the colonies. The men in the village would often stop their tasks to watch her walk by. Her innocence was radiating off of her, as she was a newly turned woman. The one thing the Baron was struggling to find was a eligible bachelor for his daughter. Most of men that he found somewhat suitable were dowry chasers. It was causing quite an issue for him as he was getting older & nearly lost his life to the flu last winter.

There moment was interrupted by the sound of canon fire in the harbor. Soon musket fire was heard in the distance. The Baron called out to his workers in the field to drop their tasks & find shelter in the house. He didn’t want any of them losing their lives, some of their servitudes would be paid off shortly & he wanted them to live. Y/N quickly gathered some of the smaller children of the workers & they started to all gather inside the home. Now with a musket in his hand her father made everyone get into the cellar.

“Y/N, my dear,” He said grabbing her head in his hands. “Whatever you do, do not open the door. I’m going to quickly get where I keep the extra gun powder & musket balls.” She nodded & hugged him tightly. Tears were streaming down her rosy cheeks as she watched him leave. The musket fire grew louder & closer. She ran to a window to see what was happening. Crimson red coats started to appear on the wood line. She gasped & watched as some patriots started to run towards the house.

“Dear God.” She whispered as the patriots started break in the door. Absolutely petrified, she took off running towards the kitchen & out the back door. The sound of war was raging behind her & it was deafening. With her skirts in hand she tried to run as fast as she possibly could. She accidentally tripped on the hem of one of her petticoats & fell twisting her ankle. Sobbing out & screaming for help her cries fell on deaf ears. A ragged man in a blue tattered coat appeared out from behind a tree & Y/N spotted him. “Oh sir please help!” She sobbed out. “My ankle I can’t move it.” He had a wicked grin on his face.

“You’re the Baron’s daughter right?” He asked with a wicked tone. A chill ran down her spine, his man was not here to help her.

“Yes.” She replied. “But my ankle sir, please help.” She begged.

“Oh I’ll help with your ankle as long as you help me.” He replied. Her eyes widened knowing what he was insinuating as grabbed his crotch. She let out a ear piercing scream for help as he threw himself on top of her.

Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley had been across the field on horseback when he heard the scream. He had gained quite the reputation over the past year. His nickname, “Ghost” was given to him by the patriots his stealth & aim made him a feared man on the battlefield. He even started to don a mask to help conceal his identity.

“Cmon Riley,” He commanded & his horse took off towards where he had heard the scream. He noticed a couple of yards away a young woman was lying down on the ground. Clearly fearful & trying to fend off the advances of the patriot soldier on top of her. He grabbed the axe he had become infamous for using from his belt. The neigh of his horse drew the attention of both the woman & the patriot soldier. Before the soldier could even react Simon rode up on him & swoop down with the axe hitting him directly in the chest. The woman let out another ear piercing scream as the man’s blood splattered all over her floral dress. The patriot got up stumbling & groaned then lolled over in the grass, axe still in his chest. “Woah, boy.” Simon commanded as he tugged on Riley’s reigns.

Y/N now covered in blood was sobbing even louder. Her ankle was in excruciating pain & she was still trying to process what had happened. She heard the neigh of a horse & looked up. The man who had murdered the patriot was getting off of his horse. Her sobbing grew quieter as she watched him remove the axe from the man’s sternum with a crunch. Then he started to make his way over to her, panic started to course her veins. She tried to get up but groaned out after trying to put pressure on her ankle. With eyes closed she shuttered at that thought she too was to have the bloodied axe lodged in her chest. She felt his presence as he squatted down to look at her. Still shaking from fear, she opened her eyes. The masked red coat was staring right into her eyes.

“Are you alright miss?” He asked out of genuine concern. She shook her head no afraid to speak. “I bear no ill will, I just heard your cry for help & rode over.” He explained.

“Oh thank the lord,” she replied clutching the cross that rested upon her cleavage. “My ankle is broken I believe, I can’t get up.” She stated. The battle seemed to have started to die off as the sounds of musket fire started to dwindled.

“Let me take a look,” he said & grabbed her ankle. She hissed out in pain as he started to twist her ankle to examine it. “It’s not broken thankfully, but it’s definitely sprained.” He explained. “Let me take you the house where we’re being quartered for proper medical aid.” Simon placed the axe in a hostler on his belt & scooped the woman up in his arms. He walked over to were Riley was, Y/N holding her arms around his neck for dear life. He placed her on his saddle sideways then mounted his horse. With one hand on Y/N’s waist & one hand on the reigns they started towards the estate. She blushed how close she was to him, & how his hand held onto her waist so tightly. Y/N was familiar with the estate as it was a friend of her father’s.

Once there Simon hopped off of Riley, & carried Y/N into the house. They were greeted by the gentleman that owned the property & she was immediately brought upstairs to one of the bed chambers. Simon placed her down on the bed & one of the maids started to tend to her.

“I’ll come back up later to see how you’re doing,” He said, & turned away to go back downstairs to brief General Cornwallis.

“Wait,” Y/N choked out. “I never got your name.” He stopped in his tracks & turned around.

“Lieutenant Riley miss,” He replied with a bow. “And you?”

“My name is Y/N L\N.” She replied.

“I’ll be back up just after we’ve finished dinner.” After the maids had gotten her out of the blood stained dress & tended to her ankle they started to draw her a bath. Lord knows she needed one desperately. She needed to wash away whatever she had experienced today, except Simon. The masked lieutenant intrigued her. Being a gentle woman of society she never really had any experience with men other than suitors her father picked out for her. To see a man so rugged but yet so powerful save her swirled around her head.

She rested further up against the cloth draped tub. The view from the bed chamber she was in was immaculate. It overlooked the Hudson River & into Manhattan. Mixed with the candles surrounding her created the perfect ambiance for relaxation. One of the maids came in to pour more hot water into her bath, & even sprinkled in some citrus scent. Y/N was so enamored with the view she didn’t even notice the sound of a knock at the door, & the handle turning.

Simon had just finished his dinner, & had full intentions of going upstairs to check on the woman he had rescued. His fellow officers teased him a bit about his worry, & made crude comments about him deflowering her. He stood at her bed chamber door & knocked. No response. He tried again but again silence. He knew better then to walk in on a lady, but his anxiety was eating him alive to know how she was doing. As soon as he opened the door he regretted it. There was she was admiring the view from her window, naked in a bath tub.

Y/N felt a presence behind her, & thinking it was a maid turned around. To her shock there stood Lieutenant Riley.

“Oh my-“ She gasped & cupped her bare breasts trying to conceal her bosom. She was thankful her bottom half was conceal by the water & tub.

“Oh miss I do apologize.” He stammered out. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. I best be leaving.”

“No wait!” Y/N said & sunk lower into the tub. “Stay, just close the door behind you.” He closed the door & locked the knob then took a seat on the sofa that sat in the middle of the room facing the lit fireplace. He could feel his trousers getting tighter as he took in the sight of the young woman. She looked ethereal like, those Grecian painting of Aphrodite or nymph. “You were right about my ankle. It’s a sprain.” Y/N said. He was still absolutely speechless at the sight in front of him. She rest her arms on the edge of the tub & laid her head down. “Why do you wear that mask?” She asked.

“To conceal my identity,” Simon replied. “I want to leave a peaceful life off the battlefield. I’ve taken many men’s lives in combat & I don’t want to die being avenged for some patriot.”

“I understand,” Y/N replied. “I just wish I could see your face, you saved me I have no one to avenge.” She bit her lip & that nearly set him over the edge.

“That’s true,” Simon replied gulping. “I mean it is kind of hot in here.” He said. “To hell with it.” He said & started to remove the mask some of the strings got tangled & he was clearly struggling to undo the knots.

“Come her silly,” She said & motioned for him to come over. Simon walked over to the tub trying to not look over the edge & kneeled down with his back turned to her. She very easily undid each knot & finally the mask was removed. He turned around & she let out a quiet gasp.

“What?” He replied confused as to what she was gasping at. His dirty blonde hair was all messed up & his cerulean eyes started back at her. She ran a wet hand over his cheek.

“You’re very handsome.” She replied blushing, taking in her very vulnerable state. Simon still fully dressed in his officers uniform & her nude as the day she was born. “Why don’t you join me?” She asked motioning to the tub. Her boldness surprised the both of them. It was almost as if Aphrodite herself took over.

“Oh I can’t-“ Simon started. He was cut by her standing up displaying her full wet figure to him. Her breasts were so plump & round they sat beautifully on her chest. His eyes trailed down to her well kept pubic area & took in the sight of her pussy. She grabbed one of his hands and placed it on her left breast.

“I want you to join me.” She said & squeezed his hand on her breast. He pulled his hand away & started to take off his boots then the rest of his officers uniform. He climbed into the bath & took in the hot water. Hell he couldn’t remember the last time he took a hot bath, even the officers for the British army weren’t granted the luxury of hot bath water. Y/N scooted over towards him & he placed his hands on her waist pulling her in against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck & pulled him in for a deep kiss. His manhood was resting up against her inner thigh & was teasing her with every little movement. When they both came up for air she decided to drop the bombshell.

“Lieutenant, there’s something you should know,” she started. “I’m a virgin.” He was surprised she was a wealthy young woman who was waiting for a man to be suitable for her father. The most she had probably done was kiss a man.

“That’s alright,” he replied. “But do you want this?”

“Yes,” She replied softly kissing him again. He brought one hand down to start playing with her pussy. A soft moan escaped her lips at the new sensation. “What are you doing?” She gasped out.

“I’m getting you ready for me,” he replied. “It’ll hurt more if I don’t darling.” He pushed one finger into her virgin cunt & started to pump. She whimpered into his shoulder & gripped into his biceps.

“Lieutenant, Christ.” She moaned. He kept pumping his finger in & out then added a second one. She let out an even louder whimper & he clamped a hand over her mouth.

“We can’t have that love now can we?” He asked. “Lord knows what they’d all do if they knew I was about to deflower you.” He pulled his fingers out & then helped her adjust her hips so it was right over his cock. “Now you still want to do this?” He asked for reassurance.

“Yes, I want this,” she whispered.

“It may hurt a bit love,” He explained. “We’ll take it little by little, okay?” She nodded in reply. He held his cock straight & helped her push down slowly. The pressure & the wonderful ache between her legs was euphoric. A small whimper escaped her lips as little by little she sank lower. Then they reached her hymen. “This may hurt the most love.” He said as he felt he barrier. “Remember little by little.” Slowly she felt him pop her cherry. She felt her barrier rip causing a painful sensation to shoot through her body. Her head was practically hidden in Simon’s neck as he finally pushed all the way in.

“You’re so big, Jesus.” She mumbled into his neck. He chucked a bit at her comment causing a vibrating sensation to make his cock twitch in her.

“I’m going to start moving you up & down love,” He said & slowly started to pull her up & down on his cock. The tight sensation of her virgin pussy made him grit his teeth. “Sweet mother of Mary.” He hissed as she slowly bounced up & down. The water around them sloshed the more she moved. His eyes darted down to her chest were her breasts were bouncing up & down. He brought his hands up to them & started to play with them. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head at the new sensation.

“You close love?” He asked as he took in the view of her. Her body radiated under the candle light.

“Oh God yes,” She sighed. “I’m about to-“ She cut herself off as she released all over him. He kept bouncing her up & down helping her through her orgasm.

“Darling I’m close to,” He grunted. It had been months since he had been with a woman, let alone a virgin. She was squeezing him so tightly. “Lord I’m about to release as well.” He groaned. He felt his cock start to twitch inside of her as he painted her cervix white. She fell into his chest & he wrapped his armed around her. They both smiled at each other & share little intimate kisses.

“Miss I have some warm water oh my-,” One of the maids started as she walked in on you two. “Oh I’ll be back later.” She said clearly embarrassed by intruding & closed the door. The two of you started to laugh a little at the situation.

“The whole house will know what we’ve done by the morning.” Simon stated.

“Oh why’s that?” Y/N asked.

“She’s a terrible gossip.” He replied kissing her shoulder.