On The Floor, Bawling My Eyes Out Rn

On the floor, bawling my eyes out rn 🤧😭

Her body moves on its own, automatic and like clockwork. Protect your squad. Always protect the highest member. The words are engraved into her mind and she sees them flashing in her mind as she grabs the Lieutenant by the shoulders and shoves him around, spinning their stance and the crack echoing around them is as loud as the gasp that escapes her when the pain explodes in her upper back. She stumbles forward into a black tactical vest, feels arms catch hold of her as her knees giving beneath her body.

She pushes back, hands pressing against the vest and she feels the resistance against her pushing as they pull in. She has to make sure it didn’t hit the Lieutenant. The bullet meant for him stopped by her. She had to make sure he wasn’t dead. There was nothing and she can’t help but look up with a breathless smile.

“I got it, LT,” she says, voice faint and his eyes are wide, staring down at her as his hands press to her back. “I got it for you.”

He starts speaking, but it sounds faint almost. Like he’s so far away even as she’s in his arms. She always wanted to be there. In them. Held by them. Loved by them. Her breath catches in her throat as she realizes she’s managed to finally get there. Makes her think of Christmas the year before when she offered him a gift to ease into admitting her feelings. Probably wrong to do. She’d only been there a year and he was her superior. But just maybe…and he let her down. Not even gently, but she had doubted the man knew how to be gentle. She remembered cold eyes and an even more frigid voice that had twisted the hopeful smile from her face into a look of pure regret, eyes filling with tears as she quickly excused herself before more embarrassment could be pulled from her.

She doesn’t speak to him anymore. Doesn’t look at him, even when he speaks to her, she just nods her head, eyes on the floor. The team senses the shift, but don’t say a thing. He acts like nothing’s changed.

He’s always quiet when he talks but his voice carries a weight. A weight she can’t hear anymore as she stares dumbfounded at him, trying to figure out the words he’s saying to her. Worry. She can see it in his eyes, and she reaches up, failing to pat his chest as her hand just flops against him.

“‘s okay, LT,” she says sluggishly, head tilting towards his chin. “You’re good. Safe. ‘s okay.” She manages to clamp a hand in his vest. “We’re okay.”

There’s a hand cupping her cheek, shaking her violently to wake her, but it’s like lead has filled every pore of her body, sinking her consciousness down with it.

Price had asked him why he’d turned her down. Knew better than most on how to read Ghost, that the soldier had taken a liking to the newest young member.

“She’s barely able to look at you, let alone talk.” He gave him a knowing look. “Why not take a chance on it, Simon? Why not let yourself be happy?”

Ghost doesn’t do happy. Maybe once Simon Riley did. “She deserves more. Deserves better than me.”

He stares down at the newbie in his arms, blood still steadily flowing from her back. It’s bad. The shot’s in a bad place. The blood, it’s hot in his hand and he keeps trying to wake her up. She deserves more. She deserves better. She deserves better than to die for someone like him.

But Simon knows, much better than Ghost, we never get to chose who we die for, do we?

This man makes me wanna (s)cream

Interrogation

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

Synopsis: Captured by 141 while working for Hassan, Alejandro leaves you in Ghost's hands to get the answers they need.

Warnings: SMUT to the max. MDNI. Knife play, size kink, fingering, oral, unprotected p in v sex, bondage, spit play, overall a real nasty time.

Your hands tugged against the rope, itching against your naked wrists. Your hands were tied firmly to the arms of a chair. You couldn't see anything, but the small twinkles of light through the knitting of the bag over your head.

You could feel your breath fanning back against your face, chest rising and falling quickly. Your ankles were bound to the legs of the chair, and you shifted uncomfortably. You'd lost track of how long you'd been sitting- your tailbone starting to ache.

You were sure your wrists were raw as you fought your restraints. Still feeling the heavy weight of your vest, you wondered if your captors had forgotten to confiscate your radio. Shifting your jaw, you moved your head to see if you could find it.

A flicker of hope ignited in you when your jaw hit the antenna. Now, it was just a matter of turning it on. You weren't sure your reinforcements would be able to track your location. Being able to communicate with them would be much easier.

You stuck your jaw out again, trying desperately to turn on the right channel- the odds were not in your favour.

Suddenly, a loud clang sounded before you, squeaking of rusted metal, blinding light making you squint, even through the bag.

You heard boots- a lot of them, and suddenly the bag was lifted. You shifted again, letting your eyes adjust to the light, before the door was shut with a loud bang.

The only source of light now, was a single bulb that hung from the ceiling of what appeared to be a shipping container.

You looked around; six, armed men staring back at you. Your heart began to pound. They were well equipped, not shy about their heavy weaponry.

"You're the one they call Y/N?" A Hispanic accent sounded from beside you.

You turned your head, eyes focusing on the tall soldier. You didn't respond, eyes staring him down before he nodded.

"Thought you would decline to speak, hermosa," He said, taking a few steps toward you.

He glanced back at his colleagues, then made eye contact with you.

"You aren't really in a position to deny our help," He enunciated, glancing to your binds.

You still remained quiet, eyes shifting from his to stare at the metal wall behind him. There was nothing but silence, aside from quiet breaths and your heartbeat in your ears. The container creaked when any weight shifted, the soldiers before you antsy to get their answers.

Though you were restrained, you held all the power. The knowledge they were looking for.

"Habla, carajo!" He shouted, his face in yours.

You could see the anger in his eyes; brows furrowed, eyes like glass. Sweat leaked from his pores, dirt settled in the crevices of his skin, lips chapped with the heat.

Your lip twitched, trying your best to control your temper.

"Alejandro," Another man said, gripping his shoulder and pulling him back. Alejandro shook the hand off his arm, pacing for a moment.

Alejandro lifted a hand to his beard, rubbing his palm against the scruff. You heard their quiet whispers, speaking amongst themselves while calculating their next move. You watched it unravel, your gut twisted in knots.

Finally, he turned back to you, having collected himself.

"So be it," He shrugged. "I'll leave you with my hermanos. Soap, Ghost," He said, head nodding in your direction.

Four of the six men exited the shipping container, leaving you with the men you deemed to be Soap and Ghost. Your breathing was a bit shakier now, but you knew you needed to remain calm- unaffected.

You pursed your lips as you exhaled a soft breath, leaning back against the chair. You couldn't reveal Hassan's location; a mantra you repeated in your head.

"Tell us where Hassan is," The man with the Mohawk spoke. A Scottish accent accompanied his words, causing your ears to twitch.

You lifted your chin, tilting your head ever so slightly. He huffed when you stayed silent, letting your fingers tap rhythmically across the arms of the chair.

"We can protect you if things go South, but if you don't speak now, there's no tellin' what he'll do to you," The Scot said, shifting his eyes to the taller, broader man.

The other man, who also decided to stay quiet, was leant against the wall, arms crossed over his utility vest. He wore a mask- a white skull. One foot jutted out to stop him from sliding, his gaze burned holes in your face. You could barely see his eyes from your position, the single bulb offered minimal light.

Your eyes were glued to his frame, finding yourself drawn to his calm, quiet demeanour.

"I'll take my chances," You spoke finally.

The Scot nodded, lifting his arms in a defeated manner.

"Right then- all yours, Ghost," He said, gripping his rifle as he exited the shipping container.

The door slammed behind him, but Ghost stayed put. His eyes didn't budge. He was raking over your body, trying to figure you out- gears were turning in his head.

He kicked off the wall, sauntering toward you, knife unsheathed. The blade touched your throat, and you swallowed. Your heart began to race, looking up into his eyes as he leaned down. He was massive- a mountain of a man. You hated to admit it, but his size intimidated you.

"Speak, now," He ordered. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Your methods aren't very motivating," You said, eyes locked with his.

He hummed in response, the blade digging into your flesh.

"You're not very cooperative," He

"I can be, just not for you or your men," You shot back.

"Suppose you wouldn't be- Hassan pays well."

Your lips pressed together, staring into the black abyss of a man before you.

"This is futile," You said. "You're wasting your time."

"Not surprised you'd say that," He added a bit more pressure to the blade against your neck. "You're talkin' an awful lot now though, ain't you?"

"I have plenty to say- but it won't be what you're looking for. Pain isn't very convincing," Your eyes shifted from his vest to his gaze.

It was like a switch had been flipped, his head cocked every so slightly, like he'd made a sudden discovery.

He pulled the knife away, leaving a nick across your skin. You sucked in a breath through your teeth, arms straining against the rope.

"I can be very convincing," He replied. "Just takes the right touch."

You tilted your head. "What is the right touch, Ghost?" You leaned forward, lips parting as you finished his name.

Your eyes fluttered to his hands as he sheathed his knife and pulled his gloves off. Long, thick fingers, decorated with strong veins that pulsed down the back of his hand. You swallowed.

He leaned closer, hand now gripping your thigh. You tried not to focus on the way it felt- the way his biceps and hands looked. Your eyes travelled up, spotting an assortment of tattoos. You could feel saliva pool in your mouth, womb burning with a sudden desire. You wanted to give your head a shake- he was the enemy. He was going to torture you.

He could nearly squeeze your entire leg in one hand- it made your stomach drop. You dragged your eyes from his place on your leg, to find his eyes. Dark brown- nearly black.

"Only good girls get to find out, sweetheart," He said, eyes unmoving.

Your blood felt like it had run cold, the only warmth settling between your thighs. Your pussy clenched as he called you sweetheart. You wanted to cross your legs, find some sort of relief. Your eyes scoured up and down his tall frame, taking in the thickness of his thighs, the way he shifted his weight and his broad shoulders swayed. You hated the way you'd fall to your knees for him, if he asked. But there was no way in hell you'd deliver him to Hassan.

"I haven't been a good girl?" You raised a brow, nearly scoffing.

"Not in the slightest- otherwise, you'd tell me where I can find Hassan."

"I think Hassan would take issue with me disclosing his whereabouts. He's a very private person."

"That's too bad. I can tell you're wet already- was looking forward to feelin' it myself," Ghost said, standing before you. His hand reached out, the faint touch of his fingertips trailing up your clothed thigh, resting his fingers just above your pussy.

The unexpected turn from pressing a knife to your throat to his fingers ghosting your groin nearly had you speechless.

Deciding to call his bluff, you played into his new method of torture.

"You still can," You answered, thighs spreading.

You were reminded of your restraints, ankles stopped from moving any further. He removed his hand.

"Ah- then how would I get what I need?" He asked, head tilting.

"You'll get what you need. And more," You said, face stoic as you gauged his reaction.

He came closer, squatting down before you. He was nearly the same height as you now. Your lips just barely curled into a smirk, watching him 'tsk' as he shook his head.

"Now you're just bein' cheeky," He said. "Won't get you anywhere, sweetheart."

His hand reached out to your ankle, warmth radiating through his hand. He dragged his hand up your calf, inner thigh, letting his palm cup your pussy. You held back a gasp- he clearly wasn't bluffing. Your cheeks burned red, body festering with heat. You shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to feel about the foreign territory you'd just entered.

He tucked his fingers in a bit, seam of your pants hitting your clit. You fought the urge to let out a deep sigh. Your body was so touch starved, you couldn't remember the last time a man made you orgasm. You sucked in a deep breath through your nose, determined to push past the facade of sexual gratification he'd created.

"Sure seems like it is," You said, a bit less confident now.

"Feels good now, doesn't it?" He said quietly. He leaned forward. "'Til I ruin you. Break you in half."

"That sounds quite enticing," You sighed, trying to maintain your cold exterior.

"I'm sure it does- you ain't a good girl."

You could feel the wetness drip from your pussy, you were sure it was nearly soaking the seat of your combat pants. Thank God for camo.

"Humour me," You spat.

"I'm afraid that's a negative," He sighed. "Looks like I'll be havin' to resort to other methods."

He gripped your vest, pulling it open on your chest, tugging it up and off your body. You gasped, his hands not quite finished as they ripped your button-up open. You couldn't help but clench your teeth.

He watched your breasts spill over your bra with every breath, chest expanding rapidly. You clenched your jaw even harder, chewing at your cheek.

"Knew you weren't a good girl," He whispered. "You get off on bein' manhandled?" He asked.

You bit down on your cheek, sure you'd drawn blood, eyes half-open as you contained yourself.

His knife made another appearance, the tip landing on your neck, softly tracing its way down to your right breast, gently prodding at the tissue. Your deep, rapid breaths pushed the skin of your breast into the knife, and the small sting made you lift your chin. Ghost stuck the blade beneath the fabric of your bra, ripping it with ease. He discarded it in the dark recesses of the container.

You groaned softly, hands balled into fists as your fingernails dug into your palms. You shut your eyes, nostrils flaring.

"Suppose you'll need to learn to be a good girl," He said, his hand reaching out to fondle your breasts.

Your head fell back again, neck exposed as you tried to fight how good it felt- how badly you needed him. His fingertips grazed over your nipples, erect in the cold of the room.

You were tired. Physically, your back was aching from your seated position, body taken a beating from every mission you'd been on in the last month.

Mentally, you needed sleep. You hadn't felt good in a long time. You needed a release, a hiatus from thinking and acting. Your head fell, eyes darting from the floor to his boots. Exhaustion having taken its toll, you no longer had the willpower to resist. So you gave in, and dove headfirst into the dark abyss.

"Teach me," You whispered, eyes meeting with his.

He nearly chuckled, hands still cupping your breasts. He offered a quick pinch of your nipples, making you suck in a harsh breath.

"Receptive," He drawled. "Maybe we can make somethin' of you yet."

You nodded, body tense against your restraints as he let his fingers trail down your stomach. He yanked your belt from the loops of your pants, and would've pulled you out of the chair had it not been for the ropes tying you down.

Letting it clank to the floor, he pulled open your pants, yanking them off your thighs. They pooled around your ankles, leaving you overexposed in the dim room.

He stepped back, looking over your form- breasts exposed, blouse hanging off your shoulders. Your black panties clung to your pussy, wetness leaking through the cotton.

"You look good, sweetheart. I'm sure my men would love a look at a sweet lil' thing like you," He quipped, leaning forward to speak directly into your ear. "They ain't had pussy in ages. Would you let 'em use you?"

Your eyes opened in shock. Your cheeks flushed, the imagery sent even more warmth to your clit, tilting your hips as you grew uncomfortable with the ache between your thighs.

"You like that?" He asked, exhaling a breath of disbelief.

You couldn't help but nod, body betraying you.

"Use your words," He said suddenly, a hand coming forward to grip your cheeks. His hand squished the apples of your cheeks, puckering your lips.

"Yes," You breathed out.

"Yes what?" He replied.

"Sir," You answered. "Yes, Sir."

He left a soft slap on your cheek, nodding.

"You're learnin'," He nodded. "Won't be long now."

You breathed deeply as he rid himself of the vest, the mask covering his balaclava. Even in his shirt, you could tell he had toned muscles. Your pussy fluttered.

"Could do this all night," He said aloud, sauntering toward you, before circling you like prey.

You stared straight forward, not daring to look back at him, waiting with anticipation as he stood behind you. His hands made contact with your neck first, sliding down slowly, resting on your breast. Your breathing picked up, body jolting when he pinched your nipple. He continued his endeavour, running down to your panties. He groaned when he made contact, wetness seeping through.

"Christ," He muttered. "Wet already?" He scoffed. "I knew it."

His fingers dug into your pussy, circling your clit. You went to lift your hands up, when they were stopped by the rope, and you groaned in frustration.

"You just sit back, sweetheart. Lesson's only just startin'."

You let out a shaky breath, writhing beneath his touch. His fingers were talented, the friction of your panties on your clit had you moaning aloud. Your breath hitched in your throat, grinding your hips against his hand. You felt a slap against your pussy, gasping softly. Your thighs shut around his hand.

"Don't move," He warned, eyes stern as he looked at you.

You nodded.

He cocked his head, expectantly staring at you.

"Yes, Sir."

"Better," He mumbled.

He continued his torture, and you fought every instinct to ride his fingers. Your moans escaped without shame, body quivering under his touch. He rubbed a bit harder now, watching you with hungry eyes as you threw your head back.

Your stomach tensed, climax teetering back and forth as he circled your clit, hard and fast. Just when he felt your thighs clench, he removed his hand. Your orgasm died, pussy practically vibrating. You groaned, frustration settling in your chest.

"Only good girls get to cum, sweetheart."

You opened your mouth to protest, your furrowed brows conveying your anger.

"That's- I was-"

"Shut the fuck up before I find another use for that mouth," He scolded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your body revealing the flame of desire that lit up your womb.

"Just- please, I need-"

"You're just beggin' for me to fill your mouth," He scoffed, standing off to the side as you jumped against your restraints. "You wanna suck this cock?"

You stopped, eyes slowly lifting to meet his.

"Not sure I'll let you, that filthy mouth's been runnin' this whole time. Not sure you've quite learned your lesson."

"Please," You whined. Your eyes widened, brows drawing together as you pleaded with him. "Please, Sir."

"You sound so sweet," He drawled. "Ask me nicely."

His hands moved to his belt, pulling the leather from the clasp, metal colliding as it fell against his pants.

"Please, Sir, let me suck your cock," Your cheeks were flushed, mostly with desire, but the humiliation of begging to taste him added to it.

"There's a good girl," He stepped closer, pulling his cock from his briefs.

It was large, bigger than the outline you'd managed to see in his pants. Your eyes must've widened.

"Open your mouth."

As he neared, you smelled gasoline and gunpowder. A tinge of sweat, just enough to make your mouth water. It only reminded you he was a man's man, tough and seasoned with war-primal- and your pussy jumped.

You did as he said, letting your tongue rest on your bottom teeth as he slid his cock in your mouth. You groaned as he pushed all the way back, hitting your uvula, then receded. You gagged, sucking in a gasp of air.

"Fuck," He grunted. "Mouth is much better like this."

You didn't speak, eyes poring into his as his hands gripped the ponytail you wore. He held you still, his hips thrusting quickly in your mouth. Even through multiple gags, he did relent, growls bubbling front the back of his throat. He pulled out and you sucked in a deep breath, saliva trailing from his tip, connecting to your mouth.

He didn't wait long, stuffing himself between your lips, relentlessly pushing his cock further down your throat. Your eyes watered, throat and nose burning.

He paused, waiting for you to put in the work instead. You breathed through your nose, heart racing at the rush of oxygen. Your tongue licked the underside of him, cheeks hollowing as you suctioned your lips around him. You sucked harshly, moving your head to try and take his whole length.

"Atta girl," He said, jutting his hips forward. His hands clasped together behind his back.

You looked up at him again, watching his head gently sway, sucking in a breath every so often. Your throat closed around the head of his cock, squeezing gently. He grunted in response.

"So pretty like this," He said.

His hand reached down, gripping your cheeks.

"You're pretty, ain't you sweetheart? Mouth full of my cock," He shook your jaw back and forth, hand leaving a soft slap against your cheek.

You moaned on his cock, thighs rubbing together as the saliva dripped from your lips, the vulgar sounds of spit echoing around you.

"Enough o' that," He said, pulling his cock from your mouth. "Time to talk."

He zipped his pants back up, moving between your thighs. He stuck one finger between your pussy and your panties, yanking up harshly. Your pussy swallowed the cotton, and you let out a gasp as he tugged it against your clit.

His blade ripped through the soft fabric. He left your panties under you, moving back behind you. He didn't take his time, and instead he let his fingers drop to your clit.

You moaned, finally finding relief as his fingers worked your sensitive bud. You remembered to stay still, panting every so slightly as he took your clit between two fingers and tugged.

He dipped even further, two fingers sliding inside you with ease. Your mouth dropped, pussy clenching around him as he drove them even further in.

"You're just drippin'," He groaned.

You could hardly focus, the callouses of his fingers adding more stimulation to your insides when he began to curl them against the rough patch in you. His lips were beside your ear now, leaning down, speaking in a level tone.

"You're doin' yourself a disservice, sweetheart. Best to let us handle Hassan from here."

He gripped your ponytail with his other hand, tugging your head back to look at him. Your mouth gaped, plump lips teasing him.

"Let me cum, I'll tell you whatever you want," You gasped, mouth glistening with spit.

His thumb began to rub against your clit, and you whimpered softly, body jerking as you neared your climax.

"You've been listenin'," He sounded impressed. "I expect you'll be singin' my praises in no time."

You prayed he'd let you finish this time- you'd done well enough to deserve it. You whined on his fingers, panting as he kept your neck at the uncomfortable angle. Your lips stayed parted, looking up at him with desperation.

He broke his grasp, lifting the balaclava enough to expose his lips and nose.

"Open," He commanded. "Wider."

You opened your mouth wider, breathing heavily. He let a string of spit fall from his mouth, dripping into yours. Your tongue swirled it around your mouth, the burn in your womb beginning to spread to your clit.

"Swallow," He said.

You did as he asked, and he groaned.

"Good girl," He whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. "Go on, cum on my fingers."

You exhaled loudly, relief flooding through you as you clenched down on his fingers, body shaking until you bared down, unintentionally squirting over his palm.

He groaned, the warm liquid flooding his fingers, adding to the creamy sounds of your pussy that rung in his ears. He could've cum right then and there.

"Fuckin' hell," He grunted, allowing you to catch your breath, releasing your head.

He pulled his fingers from your core, they were drenched. A white ring around his knuckles, glistening in the light, a web formed between his fingers.

You were sure you were flushed all over, heart racing, cheeks reddened.

"Anything to tell me?" He asked.

You stayed quiet, eyes narrowed as you tried to recover.

"I don't mind fuckin' it out of you," He spat. "Bet you'd like that wouldn't you? Think you can handle this cock?" He asked, unzipping his pants.

"Yes Sir," You said quickly, leaning forward in your seat.

"Make a move, I'll have to further restrain you," He warned.

At that point, your instinct was not to run. You wanted to obey, feel the pleasures he had to offer.

He cut the ropes on your ankles, and one wrist.

"Get up," he ordered. You listened. "Up," He said. "On your knees."

You did the best you could, lifting your knees to the seat of the chair, which was slippery with your cum and sweat.

His palm slapped against your ass, and you gasped as the sting radiated through your body.

"Head down," His hand gripped your neck, pressing you down to the arm of the chair where your wrist was still bound.

You heard his pants come down further, and peeked over your shoulder to see his cock, hard. He ran his hand up and down his length, and you felt the nudge of his tip against your pussy. You shut your eyes, relishing in the chills of anticipation. Your ankles crossed, arching your back for him.

He pushed himself inside, bottoming out in one fell swoop. You heard him moan from behind you. He listened to the sounds of your wet pussy, hugging his cock like it was made for him.

"God," You moaned, fingers gripping the chair with white knuckles.

"He ain't here sweetheart," Ghost muttered. "You wanna call for someone, say my name."

You nodded, "Yes Sir."

You screwed your eyes shut, as Ghost picked up his speed. Cock thrusting into you as his hips hit your ass. His hands came down to grip your waist, using it as leverage to go deeper.

"This pussy is tight," He groaned, hunching over your body. "I might just break you in half," He said.

"Please," You whispered.

The chair rocked with Ghost's thrusts, but his grip kept you steady. You weren't concerned about falling, only focused on the impending climax.

His hand moved to grip your throat, lifting you to his chest while he thrusted into you. He stepped his left leg up, camo-print-covered thigh tucked against your own, and a muddy combat boot resting right beside your calf as he had you flush with his body. You let out a harsh groan as he now had even better access to your core, thrusting with ease.

"Play with your pussy," He ordered.

You let your free hand roam down, running over your clit while his cock scraped against the soft lining of your insides. You moaned even louder, body shaking in his grip. The hand around your throat squeezed, your moans becoming breathier as you gasped for air. He'd allow you a moment of relief, before squeezing down again. Your pussy clenched, contracting around his cock as your orgasm drew near.

His hands were everywhere- your throat, waist, and breasts. He took note of your pussy squeezing him, lifting the flesh of your ass to dig deeper inside you. You let your head fall back to his shoulder, lips parting with your rapid breaths.

"You wanna cum on this cock, sweetheart?" He asked.

"Y-yes Sir," You cried.

"Where's Hassan?" He asked, low and rough in your ear.

You stifled a sob, head falling to his shoulder. He slapped your hand out of the way, letting his fingers dig into your clit.

"Tell me, sweetheart. I'll keep this pretty face safe," He grunted.

Your mind was going a mile a minute. He could've easily tortured you- painfully, of course. He could've killed you. Yet, he was offering a safe place, shelter from Hassan. You were a bit skeptical, having been burned before, but he hadn't done anything untrustworthy while you were restrained.

You wondered if Hassan would show you the same mercy, knowing you'd just been captured. He didn't like his soldiers caught up in the middle- he eliminated any loose ends. You were a foot soldier; disposable. You knew your best shot at survival was to give in. Tell Ghost where he'd gone. You trusted that he'd keep you safe.

"Chicago," You cried. "He left, he's in Chicago."

"Good girl," He groaned again. "Pussy is so wet," He breathed, stirring your insides while he rubbed your clit. "Go on, cum for me, sweetheart."

You didn't need any other incentive, and your abdomen tensed as you went rigid, your orgasm rippling through you, waves enveloping your body. Your pussy drenched his cock, and you let out a strangled exhale, collapsing against the back of the chair.

"Fuck me," He cursed. "Good girl, showerin' my cock. How sweet," He cooed.

Your heart was pounding, pussy sensitive as he still pounded into you.

"Nearly there, love," He groaned. "Where d'ya want it?"

"Inside," You panted. "Inside me, Sir."

He grunted in response, unloading himself inside your pussy, thrusting a few times after to make sure it stuck, coated your insides the way he wanted.

"Keep it in there," He whispered in your ear. You nodded softly.

Slowly, he pulled out, tucking himself away in his briefs, then his pants.

"Here," He said gruffly, lending you his jacket to cover yourself with.

He leaned down, slicing the rope with his knife.

"Get dressed, we're goin' after Hassan."

When he exited, you heard exclamations, his teammates asking what happened and why it was so loud, if you were still standing. Your lips curled into a smile, buttoning your blouse and yanking your pants back over your thighs and ass.

You felt his cum leak out of you, and wore it like a medal of honour as you walked out of the shipping container, into the pack of wolves.

Idc how sick I'll get, I'll kiss Simon Riley in the rain a million times over again 😤

i want a cheesy romantic cliché of kissing him the rain 😚💀🌧

-

It starts with a flash of lightning, then a deep thundering crackle, followed by a small gasp of sweet excitement.

"It's raining!"

You practically threw yourself at the window to watch the raindrops pelt the ground with childish wonder.

It's cute. Endearing. It makes Simon's insides freeze up from the sudden rush of tender emotions that clutches at his heart.

"Simon, come here!"

And like an eager, obedient little puppy, he obeys in his own quiet way, walking up to you on autopilot. He doesn't think you know just how much power you have over him. He doesn't think anyone truly knows just how weak he is for you. If you asked him to move mountains, he would do it. If you asked him to carry you through scorching magma, it would be done. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you. God forbid someone gets in his way to make you happy; he'd bulldoze over anyone who would dare try. And you're the only one who has this eternal hold on him.

"Look!"

You flash him the most adorable smile as he walks up behind you, pointing out the window as your breath fogs it up. Simon hides his own tiny smile--something only you can pull from him--and rests a hand on your waist as he leans over your opposite shoulder, following the path of your finger to the pouring rain outside.

He sees nothing special. Just falling droplets of water. Simon holds no strong opinion for it. But the way your eyes sparkle in admiration for it makes it feel like it's the most precious thing in the world.

"Let's go!"

Simon blinks.

What?

You don't even give him a chance to fully comprehend what you said, turning around and grabbing the wrist of the hand he has on your waist. Simon lets himself be yanked along--you would never be able to pull his full weight effortlessly, big man that he knows he is--but he looks at you with a bemused raise of his eyebrows.

You're so . . . special. Care-free. You see beauty in things most people wouldn't care for. And it's sweet. Pure and gut-wrenching at the same time. It's moments like this where Simon sees how soft you are in comparison to himself--how excited you always get to share these little things with him. Like a cat bringing its owner a dead mouse just because it wants to share it with you, but instead of a cat and a dead mouse, it's you and whatever interest that holds your attention. It would be annoying if you were anyone else, but that's just it--you're not anyone else. You're special. You're special to Simon, and that's more devastating than any gunshot wound he ever received.

With an excited grin, you hurridly pull him out the door, with Simon only resisting for one moment to tug you back in to wrap one of his jackets hanging from the rack by the door around you. He rolls his eyes at your whiny Simon--the n being drawn out--and shuts you up with a kiss and a soft You'll get sick, love, and you're a nightmare of a patient. He adds a pinch to your butt as a teasing warning and revels in your squeal as your hands bat his away with another Simon!

Once he makes sure you're bundled up, he puts on a jacket for himself and slips his balaclava over his head before pulling his hood up and letting you lead him outside your house. It isn't raining that hard, but there's still a chill in the air, and belatedly, he realizes he should probably bring an umbrella to hold it over your head. But then there's another flash and crackle, and the sound of delighted laughter spilling from your lips. You look back at him with unadulterated joy, and the breath in his lungs disappates as he takes your happiness in.

It's beautiful and pure, and he suddenly can't find it in himself to step back in for the umbrella. He doesn't want to miss a second of this. And you don't let him.

"Come on, Simon, dance with me!"

You pull him a little further, the smell and sound of the rain filling your senses, and turn yourself around to wrap yourself in his arms.

Simon raises an eyebrow, but his hands grip you closer, and his lips curve up into a fond little half-smile.

"In the rain, pet?"

You pout, and in an instant, Simon knows what you're going to say. He can feel himself already giving in just from your sweet eyes and the curve of your soft lips.

"Please, Simon?"

It's so small and so soft, but it's enough to bend him to your will.

He sighs, saying nothing, but by the growing sparkle in your eyes, he knows you know you got him. Brat. Simon rolls his eyes in fond exasperation. You could bring him to his knees if you wanted. Without warning, he grips you tighter and begins leading you in a sloppy waltz of his own, swaying side to side. It pulls a yelp from your lips from the unexpected movement, but you quickly follow his lead with a grin on your face, pressing your body to his.

In that moment, the rain lightens, but a drop manages to wet the exposed skin near his eye, and he looks up at the grey, cloudy canvas above their heads. Simon never cared much for the rain. It gets him wet and uncomfortable. It can be hard to see through on missions, and there's always a chance of catching a cold. But--your gasp echoes in his ears, It's raining!--and the wonder you have for it makes him wish it would rain forever just so he could see that awed look on your face till his dying days.

There's a grip on his chin, and suddenly, he's looking at you, your hand directing the movement. The dancing stops, but the grin on your face has his heart racing a mile a minute. It's a treasure he wants all to himself.

"Kiss me, Simon."

And he doesn't hesitate to give you what you want--what he wants. Simon pulls down his hood and tugs off his balaclava. He can feel the bite of the wind, and the rain is cold against his skin, but he hardly notices as he takes your lips against his.

You're warm, and right then and there, Simon decides that, yes, maybe he does like rain after all.

-

Bonus

(Later on, as you get ready for bed, a sneeze wracks your body, and a chill runs through you. There's a sigh, and some shuffling, and soon a blanket is wrapped around your shoulders.

"I told you you'd get sick.")

New headcanons: Soap and Gaz are nosey as hell LMAO

‘𝐼 𝐿𝐼𝒦𝐸 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒢𝐼𝑅𝐿𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟 𝒮𝐼𝑅’ / Simon Riley x Female! Reader

Summary: After weeks of guessing what Ghost’s girlfriend would do for work they finally find out when they meet you, much to Ghost’s dismay.

Ghost had, had it.

He was dumb enough to answer a call from you in front of Soap and Gaz, not thinking anything of it but he was wrong.

The little shits had been non stop attempting to guess what his girlfriend looked like and what she would do for a work for nearly the whole week now.

Tuesday:

‘A goth maybe!’ Soap shouted out of nowhere

‘Oh you’re right there mate! Goth girls are fit!’

‘Can you pricks stop playing guess who and keep your fucking mouths shut.’

Wednesday:

‘Sir is your girlfriend a therapist?’ Gaz inquired.

‘Oh yeah! Maybe that’s how they met.’

‘Soap keep your fucking mouth shut.’

Thursday:

‘Oh! I know! She’s a teacher!’

‘You’ve cracked it!’ Ghost replied with fake enthusiasm.

‘Really?

‘No. Keep your eyes on the fucking road.’

It was now Friday, the squad had bagged a weekend off and were eager to get their work done so they could fully relax. And of course, Simon stupidly left his files at home.

So when he’d asked you to bring them to him he made sure to tell you to come through the back entrance (to avoid Soap and Gaz) but of course they were the first two you saw when you entered the building.

‘Why hello there miss! What can I do for you?’

You awkwardly smiled, ‘Um I’ve just brought these in for my boyfriend he forgot them at home.’

Soap took a look at the files and his heart dropped. There were some fucked up things in those files why would your boyfriend just let you have them?

‘Whose the lucky guy? And why would he let you see those?’

You laughed, ‘Simon Riley. And trust me I’ve seen worse.’

‘Oh my fucking god! Gaz!’

The man named Gaz turned around from where he was standing. ‘What.’

The man with the Mohawk repeatedly pointed at you with a big smile on his face. ‘Ghosts girlfriend!’

Gaz immediately ran over to you and started asking you a million questions.

‘You guys are very sweet -in a way but can you just tell me where Simon is and I’ll answer your questions.’

Soap grabbed your hand and dragged you to Ghosts office as quick as he could because he wanted to get answers immediately.

When Ghost looked up he groaned.

Was he happy to see you? Without a doubt

Was he happy to see you with his very inquisitive co workers? No comment.

‘Simon, I have your files.’ you said handing them to him

‘Thanks love.’ He replied pulling out a chair for you to join him at his desk.

You both awkwardly turned to Gaz and Soap as they were just stood there staring at the two of you smirking.

‘You two. Out.’

‘Yes sir.’ Gaz said immediately going to walk out but Soap held the door handle.

‘Sir I will never bother you ever again-‘

‘I find that hard to believe.’ He interrupted and you laughed.

‘Just please let me ask her one question.’

He rolled his eyes

‘That’s fine with me but ask Y/n first.’

Soap looked to you and you nodded. ‘Ask away mate.’

‘What do you do for work?’

Ghost scoffed and you looked at him confused but still answered.

‘I’m a forensic pathologist.’

They gave you a blank expression.

‘I do autopsies, collect evidence from crime scenes to do tests on.’

They finally picked up on it.

‘Oh my god! That’s so cool.’

Gaz was all ears, ‘What’s the most fucked up thing you’ve seen.’

‘One question lad.’ Ghost said gesturing to the door.

You laughed. ‘This won’t be the last you’ll see of me boys, Laswell actually requested my help for this mission so don’t worry you can ask me more questions.’

When Gaz and Soap finally left you turned to your boyfriend.

‘They’re sweet.’

‘Are they?’

‘Oh don’t lie you love them really.’

At the end of the day, Ghost walked you to the exit and waved you goodbye.

‘See you when you get home! Love you.’ You said

‘Love you too.’ He replied and as soon as he turned around his two friends stood eagerly behind him.

The pair were laughing and smiling untill they noticed the look their mate was giving them.Gaz was now shitting himself and didn’t want to dig his grave any further but Soap tried to sweet talk him.

‘I like your girlfriend sir. You did well she’s… wow.’

‘Shut up Soap fucking hell.’

(Mick and Stacy Thomson. Mick reminds me of ghost in a way.)

Price should be grateful for the raccoon battalion

《Incorrect Quotes mw2》

Y/n: we can't tell you because your not part of the club

Alejandro: What club?

Y/n: The hating Graves club.

Alejandro: …The fuck? I should be the leader of that club!

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Soap: Are you a painting?

Y/n: What-?

Soap: Because I want to pin you to a wall.

Gaz: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG THEM OR SOMETHING-

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Y/n: WHO ATE MY BREAD?!

Y/n : I'M GOING TO FUCKING K-

Simon : I did?

Y/n: Kiss you and buy some more, you haven't been eating anything today Simon .

*walking away*

Simon :

Simon : Their gone Soap.

Soap, coming out the closet with bread stuffed in their mouth: Twankh uh!

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Simon , working at McDonald's: Sorry sir, we don't serve a McFuck here, so either you throw that one slice of pickle out or we're gonna have a McProblem.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Y/n: You know, , when you generalize, you tell general... lies.

Gaz: ...

Gaz: Are you trying to teach me moral lessons through puns.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

König : May luck (and this picture of Y/n eating shredded cheese at 3 in the morning) be with you.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

(Gaz trying to flirt 💀)

Gaz: Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out?

Y/n: ...Have you never taken a shower before?

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Gaz: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this...

Y/n: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card?

Gaz: Holy moly-

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Price: So, y/n is no longer allowed to take the trash out at night.

Soap: Why?

Price: Because I've caught them trying to train raccoons to fight five times in a row.

Y/n, arms crossed and pouting: You'll be thanking me when the third raccoon battalion saves your ass.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Alright that is all folks thought this would be funny to share if you guys have any requests l will be happy to see them but before you do go to my page and check out the post where it talks about what l can and can't write and other things l will do in the future love you all and have a wonderful day/morning/night :) <3

OMG HII I'M A NEW FOLLOWER AND I LOVE YOUR WORK!! May I please ask for HCs or a one shot of Ghost with his s/o being self conscious/ashamed (YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN LOL) about squirting so much that he AND the bed got soaked?? THANK YOU SO MUCH MANY KISSIES MUAH 💋💖

Ghost & König w/ an S/O who is Self Conscious about Squirting a Lot

Warnings: 18+, Sexual Content, Heavy Implications of Smut, Squirting, Insecurity, Embarrassment, Dom Ghost, Dom König, Unprotected Sex, Profanity, etc.

Ghost:

First time it happened, Ghost couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

He just stared down at where his hand connected with your cunt, your cum spattered across his arm, reaching all the way up to his elbow.

The sheets below you were covered, too, a heavy downpour of your juices coating them, soaking them.

“Fuckin’ Hell,” Ghost rasped, licking his lips.

You lay wide-eyed and stationery beneath him, chest heaving with the coat tails of your orgasm.

You’d never done that before.

And the fact that Ghost only looked upon you with a heavy gaze did nothing to soothe your nerves - did nothing to reassure you that what had just happened was normal. Or appreciated.

Sweat-skinned and face flushed with embarrassment, you tried to withdraw, to cover yourself and hide from Ghost’s dark eyes.

They were unreadable. Void of anything discernable.

Before you could pull the soaked bed sheets over you, Simon’s hand tore it from yours.

“Oh no, Princess,” he said. The corners of his lips turned up, not a smile, but one of its off-colour variants, one that spelled devious.

“I’m not lettin’ you go until you’ve covered me.”

Your eyes almost popped out of your head, face burning. You tried to object.

“You…you don’t think it’s weird?” you said, testing. Receding. “I-I don’t think I can do it again–”

“Let me put it this way,” Ghost began. He pumped his fingers into you, four strong, making you squeal, sensitive from your orgasm. He began unbuckling his belt with his other hand.

“We’re not stopping ‘til you do.”

König:

König didn’t stop pummeling into you until you’d finished.

And, upon doing so, your orgasm tearing through you, you ended up spraying.

Hard.

König felt your warm cum shoot against his abdomen, coating him in a thin layer of you.

You noticed, but your mind was far too hazy with the after effects of your high to register it properly.

König finished inside you shortly after, unable to contain himself any longer.

He flooded you, painting your insides white, much how you’d painted him.

Minutes passed, your conjoined, deep breathing filling the silence.

Head somewhat clearer, giving way to distinguishable thoughts, you looked down at König.

He was, simply put, wet.

Not damp, not moist - wet.

And then, the memory hit you.

Your heart sank.

“König…?” you said, voice meek. You watched his chest and shoulders heave, with him bent over you like a bridge, eyes screwed shut.

You went to call his name again, but his lips on yours stopped you.

Between laboured breaths, he muttered dark words into your skin as if they were incantations.

“Why did you hide this from me?” he said, breathless.

You blinked, confused.

“Wha–”

“You thought you could keep this little trick of yours a secret from me.”

He said it as if it were true. The actual truth was that you’d never done that before; not with König, not with anyone.

“I should punish you,” he said, retracting only to roll his hips against yours.

You gasped, a shock of painful euphoria tightening inside you.

“I can make you do it again,” he said. There was no mercy in his eyes. No negotiation. 

“And I will.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist

Masterpost