I7ghost - I7GHOST - Tumblr Blog

I’m begging you to write for yourself.

“But readers don’t like—“ who cares?

The only reader of your story that you should care about is yourself.

Do you like your story? Yes? Then it’s perfect.

cw cheating

something about married Price crowding the pretty young babysitter on the couch and deeply fingering her just to make sure her cute pussy catches the sterling silver of his wedding ring. a constant reminder that she’s a little home-wrecker for letting a man old enough to be her father fuck her in return for looking after his littlens. and for giving him her virginity.

a bit more practice Soaps of different kinds

you know where to find full pics

A mimir

dad!Price

141👔

#study buddy — leon kennedy [M4F] 1.4k words

summary. your boyfriend helps you relax while you study

pairing. leon kennedy + reader genre. smut, fluffy n lovey :3 tags. soft dom!leon, tit fondling, nipple play, handjob (f rec), praise, pet names, gagging? (fingers in mouth), orgasm control warnings. not proofread reader. afab, no gendered terms, no pronouns note. absolutely entirely self indulgent .. looks around

leon's good at leaving you alone when you need it, even if he really hates having to. but it's almost 1am, and you've been studying since you got home from work. sure, he knows your finals are soon. he completely understands that you want to pass, and your professor is a total jackass who's already failed you once.

but you've been locked in your bedroom all day, head down as you work on your study guides. he's peeked in once or twice, delivering little snacks or what was left of his takeout.

he just misses you.

with a huff, he turns off the movie he'd been watching in the living room and stands up from the sofa. as he makes his way down the hall, he debates whether he should knock or not. he ultimately decides against it; knowing you, you'd just tell him you're almost done, then study for another three hours. it's happened once already.

so instead, he quietly opens the door, making sure not to be too loud. he avoids creaky spots on the hardwood, not wanting to be audible over the music playing on your headphones. you've changed out of the clothes you had on earlier from work, now wearing a tank top and sweatpants; he's glad you're at least comfy while you bury yourself in your studies.

without saying anything, he stands behind you and begins to gently massage your shoulders. your muscles are tense, and he applies pressure to those aching spots, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

"what are you doing?" you ask quietly, your voice hoarse from being silent for so long.

"nothin'," he mumbles, continuing to knead your stiff shoulders. "just helping you relax."

you don't say anything else, just letting him do his thing. you can't deny that it feels good; your posture's been terrible all day, and you've barely moved for the last — you glance at your clock — five hours... jeez, has it really been that long?

leon gently slides his hands down your chest, slipping under your shirt and bra. he's so gentle as he squeezes your tits, his thumbs brushing against your nipples. they harden into tight little peaks, and he can't help but smile to himself.

"leon—"

"shh, baby," he murmurs. "keep studying. you're alright." he hears your breath hitch and feels your heart stutter in your chest. always so responsive.

you swallow hard, blinking a few times to try and rid your eyes of the haziness of your growing arousal. it works for the most part — until his calloused fingers pinch your nipples. he's delicate with you, knowing how sensitive you are, pinching lightly before he rubs them softly to soothe the sting.

the first one doesn't get the reaction he wants, so he leans down, letting his warm breath brush against the shell of your ear when he does it again. you finally let out a little noise, a soft whimper that he barely hears. but he does, and he loves it.

he smiles and kisses your temple, squeezing your tits again before he moves a hand down between your thighs. he traces a finger along your slit through your clothes, and he hums when he feels your cunt pulsate against his touch.

"love when i touch you, don't you, baby?" he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. you don't respond, too busy trying to keep your cool and focus on your work like he said. your silence makes him narrow his eyes, and he presses down on your clit, making your hips jerk. "i asked you a question, doll."

all you can do is nod and hum out a little "mhm." it's good enough for him, and he kisses your temple as he slips his hand into your clothes, finally making contact with your needy cunt.

you're already soaked for him — which doesn't surprise him. you've been alone all day, bored out of your mind... he's sure your thoughts have wandered to him more than once.

"so wet already," he mumbles, "need this so bad, hm?" you nod again, your legs parting. the fabric of your sweats pulls tighter against leon's hand, which is just too big to fit underneath. "take them off," he instructs.

you fumble to untie the drawstring, but your hands are too shaky to do so. he smiles a bit and unties them for you, then watches you lift up your hips and tug off your clothes. once you're naked from the waist down, he guides your knees up over the arms of your desk chair, spreading your pussy out for him.

"there we go," he purrs, sliding his middle two fingers from your entrance up to your clit, spreading your arousal over your aching nub. "so ready for me, and i've barely touched you."

"i c-can't reach the keyboard if you're touching me," you almost whine, a little pout on your face.

"shush," he whispers. he slides his free hand up to cover your mouth, squeezing your cute face gently before pushing his middle finger past your lips. "you know your safe word, doll."

you nod, your tongue cradling his finger as he thrusts it absentmindedly in and out of your mouth. his thumb brushes your cheek, a silent praise for being so obedient for him. focusing back on your cunt, he finally starts rubbing your clit.

you're so worked up already, so sensitive, that a muffled moan vibrates around his finger. he loves the way you squirm, trying to push your hips up against him, but the position you're in just won't let you move.

"l-leon" comes from your lips in the form of a whimper, stifled by his finger, but clear enough to make his cock twitch. he ignores it, focused on your pretty body as he plays with your pussy.

he circles your clit with two fingers, the friction sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. he knows exactly what pace to set, what pressure to use to get you whimpering and writhing for him.

and it doesn't take long for you to be in that state, so desperate to cum for him. but he doesn't let you, edging your pussy, loving the way he can see your hole clenching around nothing. your juices leak out of you, and he tsks.

"making a mess of my chair, baby," he says disapprovingly. he moves his fingers down and stuffs them into your pussy. a groan passes his lips as he feels how tight you are around him, the sound rumbling against your skin. "look how wet you are just from my fingers, angel. what if i used my mouth, hm?" he feels your walls squeeze his fingers, and he smirks. "ooh, you like that, don't you? want me to eat your pretty pussy?"

you whine around his fingers, your hips wiggling in a desperate attempt to force him to thrust into your cunt.

"oh, no, doll. none of that." he pulls out of you, wiping your wetness on the inside of your thigh, making a sticky mess on your skin. "stay still, and you'll get your reward."

you let out a little noise of protest, so he strokes your clit with one finger, his touch feather-light.

"do you want to cum?" he asks softly.

you nod.

"then sit still."

he presses his fingers back to your aching nub, rubbing at the perfect pace to bring you to the edge — and he keeps you there, your body teetering desperately on the brink of orgasm. you want more, need more, but you stay still.

"there you go, that's it," he purrs. he takes his finger out of your mouth, and you immediately start moaning, begging for more. "tell me how bad you need it, and you can cum."

"p-please," you whimper, your voice trembling. "please, i can't take it, i can't. i need to cum, i need to, please."

"good, good.... c'mon, a little more for me, doll. let me hear you," he whispers, pinching your nipple and twisting it softly in time with his circles on your clit.

"leon," you whine. your back arches away from the chair, and he hums, as if waiting for you to finish your sentence.

"yes?"

"please—"

he applies just a bit more pressure and moves just a bit faster. he presses his cheek to your temple. "cum."

a broken moan erupts from your chest as you finally climax, your thighs shaking and your clit twitching under his fingers. you squeak out his name and a soft "thank you", and he nods a bit as he pleasures you through your peak.

as you come down, he slows his fingers to a stop, then kisses your temple. "finish your work so we can watch some movies," he says quietly before walking away, leaving you panting with a mess between your legs.

thinking about older bf!simon that can’t get it up.

seriously.

friday night at the end of a long week, curled under his arm- not an inch of your mouth that his tongue hasn’t covered.

the palm of your hand has been working him over his trousers for what feels like the better part of an hour.

no dice.

“m’sorry, sweet’art”

simon looks spent, absolutely knackered.

“s’all good, we don’t have to”

he groans, utter frustration written all over his face as he picks you up to plonk you down in his lap.

“but i want to”

he wants to, he wants it more than he wants breath in his fucking lungs. his body just can’t hack it.

ultimate betrayal.

burying your face where his neck meets his shoulder, your hand slips between the two of you. gently stroking his soft cock in your hand, you feel the tension start to leave him.

“can still play with it a little, f’you want?”

the sound of your voice, the heat of your hand- simon’s hips jolt when you pull back his foreskin to rub over the head.

his breath stutters as his chest deflates, arm wrapping around your waist so he could slip his fingers between your thighs.

“y’good to me, sweet’art- jus’ like that”

He has such pretty eyes, and I love the details <3

(Source)

Roommate!Simon who wakes up in the middle of the night, his chaotic sleeping schedule getting the best of him. Struggling to make as little noise as possible, he exits his bedroom and heads to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea

Roommate!Simon who stops dead in his tracks when he realises that you must have left the TV on, the blue faint glow of the screen projecting shadows on the wooden floor. He strides towards the coffee table to grab the remote control, when you rise from the blanket you'd been wrapped in, scaring the sh*t out of him

Roommate!Simon who instinctively reaches for the Ka-Bar knife he always keeps in his boot, only to realize that there is no way he could conceal such a weapon in the fluffy slippers he's currently wearing. He rolls his eyes in defeat and throws you a questioning look, the frown on his face deepening even more upon seeing what you were looking at- a Disney Pixar movie.

Roommate!Simon who pretends to be annoyed and keeps grumbling to himself as he heads into the kitchen, but ends up preparing two cups of tea and empties a bag of popcorn into a big plastic bowl

Roommate!Simon who just lays the tea on the coffee table and places the popcorn on the couch, lunging for the blanket that is still wrapped around your figure. You roll your eyes at his fake cold demeanour and lift a corner of the blanket as a silent invitation for him to join you

Roommate!Simon who ends up taking three-quarters of the blanket and eats all of the popcorn while his eyes are glued to the screen. Fighting for the last quarter of the blanket, you can't help but openly stare at his maskless figure, greedily taking in every detail that you can perceive in the faint light emitted by the TV

Roommate!Simon who ends up throwing an arm across the couch, pulling your body closer to his and wrapping the blanket around both so that your head is pressed against his chest. The tea's gone cold on the small coffee table, but it doesn't stop Ghost's eyes from getting heavy, his tired mind relishing in the rhythmic sound of your heartbeat

Roommate!Simon who falls asleep on the couch, holding you fast in his embrace and gently resting his head atop yours as the Disney movie keeps playing in the background. He won't tell anyone, but he hasn't slept that well in a long time.

part one part two part four masterlist

Happy pride

when artists draw ghost or price with a soft stomach instead of cut abs:

john “big stretch” price

simon “make it fit” riley

soap “just the tip” mactavish

kyle “give me one more” garrick

cw: gun play, throat fucking with a gun im sorry, simon coming untouched, masturbation (reader) I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BRAIN SO unedited

simon with a gun kink that he's kept hidden would be crazy.

imagine ur big, beefy husband coming home after a long deployment. he's tense, his fists are clenched tight and it's clear he's got a ton of steam he needs to blow off.

at first, you expect a normal night together of him plowing you into the mattress so hard that the bed creaks and hits the wall with every thrust. the kind of fucking that leaves you trembling for 15 minutes after you've finished and cleaned up. the kind that has him pulling you into his arms to soothe and coo at.

but something is different this time.

he starts removing his gear one by one as usual but instead of removing the holster with his gun and safely placing it down, he unholsters the gun completely.

you're watching with bated breath as he unloads the weapon, carefully pulling it back and peering into the chamber. you're watching his hands move, admiring how strong his fingers are and how the veins in his hands bulge out with every movement

you deviously excited by the time he approaches you -- the gun still in his hand.

he brings it up, placing the nozzle against your chin, finger hovering off the the trigger. but you know how well-trained he is -- how good he is at his job. you know that he could have that finger on the trigger in a milisecond, faster than you would even be able to comprehend.

"open," he orders, a voice that sends shivers down your spine. it's firm, rough, authoritative. it's a tone you imagine he uses when he's on the field.

soliders bow to his every whim and you're no better. but unlike those who are trained to obey him because it's their job -- you obey him because you know if you do, you'll get the sweetest reward in the world; that thick, full cock still hidden in his pants.

your panties are already wet and sticky and your brain’s already feeling fuzzy by the time you open your mouth. 

the shock of cold is the first thing you recognize followed by the tang of metal as the weapon settles on your tongue. your lashes flutter as you look up at your husband, face still obscured by his balaclava but his pretty, brown eyes burn holes into you nevertheless.

he slowly and carefully slides the gun deeper into your mouth until it presses against the back of your throat and you involuntarily gag. a groan rips from his cheeks as he watches the tears gather on your lashline.

"that's it, pretty," he coos, "bet you wish that was my cock huh?" you nod your head as best you can with the weapon lodged in your throat, "maybe i'll give it to you if you put on a real nice show for me."

his words take a moment to register in your fuzzy brain but once they do, your hand is flying down between your legs at record speed. you slip it beneath the band of your panties, barely lifting his shirt that you're wearing out of the way so you can finally find relief in the ache that has settled in your cunt.

your folds are wet and sticky as they part around your fingers and you struggle to swallow around the gun in your mouth. there's no give to the metal and drool begins to dribble down your shin in long, thin strings.

simon's cock is hard, heavy and leaking against his thigh. this has been one of his best kept secrets, to watch you submit to his gun -- to the weapon he has used to murder countless people with.

and here you were, doing as you're told, throating his gun while you play with your pretty cunt. he can hear how wet you are, can see the way you desperately hump your own hand trying to get your fingers deeper and deeper. but they'll never feel as good as his, you both know this.

so all you can do is tearfully look up at him through clumped lashes as you choke and gag on the gun he continues to keep stuffed down your throat.

his cock throbs at the thought of being where his weapon is now. he envies it.

you mutter something, muffled and incomprehensible but he knows what you're saying. he can see the way your pupils blow out, hear the way your breathing grows erratic and choppy. you're trembling and breathless, messily jerking your hips into your own hand as you desperately look up at him -- begging for anything to push you over the edge.

his finger finally lands on the trigger of his gun and he sees your eyes widen but the desperate, teary look you give him only tells him more of what you need.

there's a muted, empty click when he pulls the trigger. the gun is empty, you both know this -- but it sends you over the edge anyway.

simons cock twitches and twitches, balls tight and heavy before he's spurting his load down his thigh at the sight of you cumming on your own fingers and moaning around his gun.

the hand holding the weapon trembles as he cums untouched at the entire scene. you pull your head back, gasping for air before pulling your hand out of your panties.

simon lurches forward, you don't even have time to react before he's taking the sticky, messy, cum-covered fingers into his mouth.

he's on top of you, pressing you down beneath his weight, the gun tossed and forgotten on the bed because now all he can think about is fucking you into the mattress. <3

simon riley who you "meet" through a program where you can send care packages to soldiers. you don't think much of it at first, just a simple package with a few necessities and treats. and along with that, a short, but genuine and handwritten letter thanking the unknown soldier to you for their service.

and when you go to retrieve your mail a few weeks later after getting home from work, brows furrowing together as you shuffle through the stack of envelopes.

bill. another bill. advertisement. paycheck. handwritten addressed envelope from 'ghost'.

your brain doesn't even connect the dots until you are inside, fingers gently picking at the envelope until your able to drag a finger through the seal to open it. a simple piece of what looks like notebook paper is pulled from inside. unfolding it, eyes quickly scan the letter to get an idea what it's about.

you've done plenty of care packages before. never did you get a personalized thank you letter back, so, this was a first. the letter starting off by thank you for the package and that he enjoyed the items, especially the "sweet treats". the two words put in quotations as he referred to what you referred to them as in your own letter. your own brain cringing slightly as you remember what you wrote.

again, thank you for all that you do and enjoy the sweet treats!

and while you expected the letter to end after thanking you, it didn't. additional lines asking about you. the sets of questions ranging from asking how long have you been doing the care packages to general questions about yourself. then, at the very end, after signing off as 'ghost', you couldn't help but notice the chicken scratch of handwriting that added:

p.s. you don't need to respond back if you don't want to, just figured it be nice to get something back in return. thanks again.

something something accidentally losing a tampon or a nuva ring or something inside of yourself and having to ask your room mate gaz to help you get it out because he's a) home and b) has long fingers and c) your only other options are either pay for a hospital visit or use chopsticks. cut to him finger fucking you within an inch of your life, saying "just a little more, i think i've got it, hang on, nearly got it worked down into my reach" and 'accidentally' brushing his thumb against your clit as the long-discarded item sits on the mattress right behind your ass, totally out of your eyesight

Protective!Ghost who overhears you discussing a stalker ex-boyfriend

Protective!Ghost who hates the idea of a knife or gun under your pillow for safety

Protective!Ghost who follows you home

Protective!Ghost who waits until the dead of night to break in

Protective!Ghost who updates your security while you sleep

Protective!Ghost who buys you a puppy in secret

Protective!Ghost who convinces you to help him pick out his own puppy, gifting your puppy to you in thanks

Protective!Ghost who signs up both puppies for protection classes

Protective!Ghost who schedules puppy play dates with you every week to spend time together

Protective!Ghost who kisses you in his kitchen

Protective!Ghost who sleeps in your bed

Protective!Ghost who jokes about being the weapon under your pillow

Protective!Ghost who marries you

Protective!Ghost who ensures your ex will never bother you or anyone else again

You who pretends to be asleep when Ghost breaks in to update your security, and every time after that

You who initiates the kiss in his kitchen

You who sees the news report of your ex's recovered body a year into the marriage

You who's never been happier, curled up against Simon's side with the pups sleeping at your feet

Simon Riley has stretch marks from his growth spurts from teenage years and first few years in the military where his muscles grew at an exponential rate. Even long after, they still paint his skin, around his soft belly, under his large biceps, and around the pectorals.

when ghost tries to pick you up early on into your relationship, you resisted with a frown and told him you were too heavy for him

the next day, he sends you a gym video of him doing hip-thrusts using over three times your bodyweight. he says he’s practising for tonight

wanting and needing and yearning and longing and desiring and pining and craving btw. if u even care

why does Ghost always wear a mask?

he likes to stay anony-mouse

(my partner came up with this dialogue idea out of the blue and I immediately had to draw Ghostsoap as little mice in the rain 🥺😭)

♡ ghost + reader — smut — 794 wc

tags. dom!ghost, praise, degrading, (light) choking warnings. cheating!, ghost is possessive, cucking, not proofread reader. afab, no gendered terms, gn pronouns (very min usage) note. i cannot defend myself w this,, also hello this is my first fic on here :3 pls enjoy !!

ghost fucking hated it when you brought up the rat that you call your boyfriend.

not once had he ever heard a single positive thing about the guy fall from your lips, yet you've been with him for nearly two years. you were always complaining about him, and ghost was sure that you'd deny time off half the time because it meant you had to go home to him.

ghost knew you were deprived. of touch, of affection, of sex. it wasn't hard to tell, truthfully — he knew you well enough.

that's probably why it hadn't been too hard for ghost to get you into bed with him. he practically begged you to let him fuck you, which he knew would be a hit on his ego later on when he came back to his senses. but right now, he doesn't care.

here you are, underneath him as he bullies his thick cock into your tight cunt, quivering and writhing below him as you near your fourth orgasm. he'd made you cum once from just his fingers, twice from his tongue; he knew he'd have you turned into a shivering puddle of whimpers before he even let himself think about cumming.

he wraps his hand around your throat loosely as he fucks into you, each thrust making a shockwave of overstimulating pleasure rip through your body.

"fuck," he growls lowly. "you feel s'fucking good on my cock, lovie... so fuckin' tight, huh?" his grip tightens almost imperceptibly as he groans, adjusting his hips to hit your sensitive spots just right. "look so pretty stuffed full of me, baby."

his movements slow just a bit when he hears your phone ringing on the bed, and he rustles through the sheets with his free hand to find it. he's about to hang up, or at the very least mute the ringer, when he notices who's calling you.

"guess who," he mumbles, tilting the screen so you can see the caller id. a gasp catches in your throat when you see your boyfriend's name illuminated on the screen in bold white text. ghost doesn't stop fucking you as he answers the call and lifts the phone to his ear.

the man on the other end of the line says your name, expecting to hear your voice. instead, though, he's met by a deep, gravelly one.

"no, but i can put them on," ghost replies, a smirk on his lips even as you shook your head. you clasp a hand over your mouth, trying to keep your moans quiet.

ghost tsks, pulling his hand away from your throat and grasping your wrist, tugging your hand from your mouth. he raised one brow — a warning. don't do that again. he lets go of your wrist then and places his hand on your pelvic bone, using it as leverage to keep you still while he fucks you.

"such a good little doll for me," he coos, speaking into your phone. "taking my big cock so well, aren't you, baby?" he smiles darkly before moving to rub your clit, his calloused thumb rubbing tight, rough circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. you can feel your orgasm building, and you have to hold your breath to keep your sounds in.

"he doesn't fuck you this good, does he?" ghost says, his voice full of faux sympathy and a mocking directed at the man over the phone. you shake your head, but that doesn't please ghost. his brow furrows and he shoves his hips hard against yours, making you cry out in pleasure as his cockhead hits your already bruised cervix. "use your words, babydoll," he murmurs to you.

"n-no lieutenant," you whimper out, the sound weak and pathetic. "you fuck me best. b-better than him."

"that's it," ghost moans, the words dripping with an approval that makes your pussy flutter around him. he rubs your clit harder, faster, determined to take you over the edge again. "cum for me, sweetheart. let me hear you fall apart for me."

you do just that. your body trembles, your thighs closing around his hips, clit throbbing and pussy clenching around him. you cry out his name as your back arches, and he smiles. he looks back at your phone, seeing that your cucked boyfriend hadn't hung up just yet.

"sorry mate, i don't think they're yours anymore," ghost mumbles into the phone, careless for the man's feelings. he ends the call and blocks his number before tossing the phone back into the messy sheets.

he grips your hips with both hands, so tightly that you know bruises will be left behind. slowing his hips, he leans down, his face beside yours.

"you're all mine now, baby," he murmurs into your ear. "all fucking mine."

cr @i7ghost 02292024. do not repost, translate, etc.