Condescending. Always.

condescending. always.

what do yall think r the hottest forms of "talking u through your orgasm"

like r we talkin cooing in your ear about how pretty you are? or maybe laughing softly and sweetly saying "oh that feels good doesn't it, baby?" or maybe a little condescending "mhm? oh, look at you. are you cumming?"

like what r we thinkin

@writing-jellyfish I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MAUS.

Salivating at the thought of being used for breeding by Ghost

Staying tied up to the bed shibari style as Ghost just abuses your sweet hole. You can do nothing and only lay there and take it. The man is filthy with it too, keeping a vibrating wand tied into the rope on your thigh so it would press against your swollen clit as he pounds into you.

When he's tired, he let's it continue to vibrate. Ghost doesn't let him cum go to waste so he shoves a toy a little bigger than him to keep you plugged. We have to make sure you get pregnant so he has more to grab onto and your tits swell with milk. He drools all over your breasts and fucks himself stupid like a mad man when you eventually do get pregnant and start to show.

creams. UHM I MEAN-

Simon 'Ghost' Riley Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

FAE YOU'VE OFFICIALLY LOST ME I'VE GONE FERAL. @ghostangel YOU COOKED AND I'M AFRAID I ATE IT.

your new neighbor has taken a liking to you

simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader

tags/warnings: mdni, infidelity (ghost’s marriage sucks), size kink, breeding , unprotected sex, degradation/dumbification, squirting, corruption kink if you squint

Simon is in a loveless marriage.

It’s sad—he knows that. Ever since he got back from deployment, things with his wife weren’t the same. She would stay at work late, come home smelling of someone else’s cologne, trying to hide her swollen lips.

Military service took a toll on him. The torture, the abuse, the loss of life—sometimes it was too much for him to bear. His wife didn’t understand, and he certainly couldn’t talk to her about it. She was too busy being fucked by other men to speak to him anyway. So, he kept his trauma close to his chest.

Then he met you.

You moved in next to him while he was away. When he left for service, the house was empty—vines withering up the creaky wood, yard overgrown and barren. As soon as he drove into his front yard, he knew that changed.

The house was fixed up, vines trimmed. A new coat of paint covered the old wood and made it look new. A hammock hung between two large trees in the yard. And one other thing was different.

Flowers. They were everywhere in your yard. Rose bushes, lavender, tulips, sunflowers—the yard was a rainbow of color. Simon could smell them from his front yard when he went outside to smoke or to get away from the confines of his house.

It wasn’t until he was smoking one afternoon that he saw you. Fresh-faced and young, gloved hands trimming back your rose bushes. It took him a while to say hi, but he did eventually. You were everything his wife wasn’t—kind, bubbly, thoughtful…innocent.

He found himself in your front yard more than he was at home, offering to help you trim your flowers or plant new ones. He was always filling the heavy watering can and watering for you—“I got all this muscle, sweetheart, let me use it for somethin’.”

Simon wasn’t sure when he began spilling his trauma, but one day, he sat on your couch with a glass of lemonade telling you about the war. The torture, the loss of his military brethren—everything. He told you about his past and his present, about his failing marriage; and most importantly, that he trusted you.

The first intimate actions were small. A brush of a hand, a squeeze of a thigh. Lips brushed against an ear. Small actions that made your tummy clench and his face grow hot. Eventually, it led to something more. Soft kisses on tender lips, hands running over scarred skin and muscle, strong arms wrapped around you.

And tonight, you kissed him with a hunger he couldn’t ignore anymore. Your tongue swiped so slowly along his that his knees buckled and his heart slammed against his chest. His fingers gripped your ass so tightly, you thought it would bruise, but it sent heat to your core all the same.

That’s how you find yourself now—on your back in your bed, sheets sprawled around you and Simon eating you like a man starved. His tongue flicks so deliciously against your clit that it makes your toes curl and your grip tighten in his hair.

“Simon,” you whine, hips bucking as he sucks hard on the sensitive nerves. His response is a grunt, his middle and ring finger gathering your juices and teasing your tight entrance.

Your breath stills when he pushes his two thick fingers inside of your pussy, back arching and hips drawing back.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Simon mutters against your clit, tugging your hips down with his other hand and curling his fingers inside of your wanting cunt.

All you can do is whine as his fingers scissor and stretch your squelching pussy, juices dripping down to your ass. His tongue rubs circles around your clit like he’s painting a fucking picture, and you can’t help but moan out at the pleasure. His fingers hit that spongy spot that sends an electric jolt to your toes, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the pleasure.

“S-Simon, I can’t—I’m gonna—” You can’t even finish your sentence, your voice breaking off in a moan as he speeds up.

And then you’re coming, babbling nonsense and his name like a prayer as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. You don’t even comprehend that you squirt all over his hand and mouth, or that he’s rutting his hips against the bed and moaning into your cunt as he tastes you.

Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, his hands running up to your waist. Your eyes flutter open—when did they shut?—and you look up at him staring down at you, his lips curled into a smirk.

“Such a nasty fucking girl,” he murmurs as he leans down, teeth grazing across your neck. “Squirting for me like that. Gonna do that on my cock, too, sweetheart?”

All you can do is moan in response, and Simon chuckles before pulling back and tugging down his boxers. Your eyes widen as you take in his fat cock—thick and veiny and leaking precum. He holds eye contact with you as he moves to hover over you, rubbing his tip along your soaked folds.

You squirm and whine, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t think it’s gonna fit.”

Simon grins, positioning his tip against your throbbing hole. “Gonna make it fit.”

Your lips part as he slowly slides his fat cock inside you, stretching you out in such a painfully delicious way that you almost forget to breathe. You can feel every vein in his cock, and Simon lets out a guttural groan when he sheathes himself fully inside you.

“Relax, doll. Squeezing me so fuckin’ tight and I haven’t even moved.” His voice is strained, and he lets out a breath as you try to relax.

His hand moves to your throat, squeezing slightly as he begins to move. Slow at first—painfully slow. You hold eye contact with him as he slowly ruts his hips against yours, his lips parted as breathy groans slip past. When you start to whimper and moan, he speeds up, his pace becoming almost animalistic in nature.

The tip of his fat cock hits a spot that makes you see stars, and you let out a soft cry as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It feels so good, and you drag your nails down his chest because you don’t know what else to do.

“Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” He asks, grip tight on your throat. “You like my cock stretchin’ you out?”

You can’t even answer him, responding with whines and moans, tears sliding down your cheeks from the pleasure. Simon smirks, fucking you faster, and you cry out.

“Didn’t think I’d fuck you dumb, sweetheart. Can’t help it can you? Cock makin’ you stupid?”

You whine out, hiccuping out a moan as his other hand moves to your clit to rub in precise circles. Your eyes glaze over and you’re gone—submitting completely to him as he fucks you with his fat cock.

Your vision goes white as your orgasm hits you unexpectedly, stealing the breath from your lungs as your legs shake. Simon grunts and groans as you come on his cock, throbbing so tightly around him that you almost force him out. He simply fucks you harder, pressing against your cervix as your juices gush out of your cunt and you whine out, hips jolting.

Simon moves his fingers from your clit to your face, wiping your tears away and leaning down to kiss you. The kiss is hot and surprisingly sweet, and when he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Good fuckin’ girl. My girl. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up so good, baby,” he whispers against your lips, his arm hooking through your leg to open you up wider. His hips slap against yours, his breathy moans hitting your skin softly.

“Please, Simon,” you breathe out, voice catching as he fucks into you. “Need it. Please.”

That’s all it takes for Simon to crumble, moaning out curses and your name as his cock throbs inside of you. He gives one, two, three more thrusts before he buries his fat cock inside you, tip against your cervix, and you can feel his hot seed pumping inside of you.

He thrusts lazily for a moment before sliding out of you, pulling you to his chest. Your lips meet in a sweet, lazy kiss, and you feel his cum dripping out of you. Simon’s fingers trace down your back, and he looks at you so delicately, he’s afraid you might break. His hand moves to cup your face, thumb brushing right underneath your eyes. Then he utters four words that make your heart stop.

“I’m getting a divorce.”

—————————————

see this one shot’s counterpart here

Y'all please cage me.

cw: hybrids, dubcon (?), trapping, knotting and things.

dog hybrid simon riley that tries to mount you, it's not his fault, it's his owner who's responsible for bringing a sweet, docile kitten in the house that already has a big dog, he's never showed his affection to any possible animals around, even to his own specie, how he should, but upon meeting you, soft, supple thing with groomed tail and fluffy ears, he remembers he has a cock to stuff and breed.

you expected him to scent you and then forget about you, after all, he's a scary dog, and the man that took you promised that he's lazy and wouldn't even bat an eye at you, but as soon as your feet touched the floor, simon bumped you down on the parquet floor with his whole, heavy weight, pressing his rugged mug between your legs, huffing out a terrifying, pleases groan, his tail wagging left and right.

it's led to you almost clawing his eyes out, hissing and scurrying as far away from him as possible, threatening that you'll slice his face if he'd try it again, defensive little thing, a sight that pulls a lopsided grin to his pale lips, making your fur stand up on your ears and body, forgetting about trying to make up friends, knowing best than talking to this horny mutt.

yet simon plays it off, acts as apologetic as he can, tucking his excited tail between his burly legs, lowers his ears down, almost manages to do these honeyed, puppy eyes when he passes you across the house, getting under your fur, by helping you, giving you his sleeping place while the owner orders a new one for you, even stoles some treats for you from the kitchen.

anything, just to lower your awareness of him, making you warm up to an unruly mutt and feel comfortable with and beside him, pushing his inappropriate behavior to pure curiosity, seeing that he ain't trying to do something like that again, even through there's a sleazy murkiness to his eyes you can't piece together, until your heat doesn't hits you.

you come to him willingly, padding from your bedding to his, where he's all sprawled out, deep asleep with rumbling snores, and your mind to hazy to comprehend what's happening, why it's so hot, why you're all leaky between your furry, supple thighs, plopping beside him with loud, needy purrs, as you rub against his whole body, ass perched out with your pretty, curving spine.

simon knew you'd come, waited for your heat to struck, for you to seek him as your comforter, nuzzle your adorable face with whiny mewls in his thick palm, he's not a patient dog, and he won't torture you by acting like he's asleep, so he rises and tugs you close, pressing you into his bed, making you arch sweet and sharp enough to present your needy, fluttering hole, messy with dripping slick.

he eats your pussy properly, messes his whole maw with your slick and creamy cum, nose pressed in your silken, soaking fur, while he flattens his rough, thick tongue against your puffy folds and bumpy, swollen clit, slurping down on you when he nudges at your slit, licking further to your clenching hole, stuffing you with at least something for a short time, preparing you for his knot.

you welcome his chubby cock properly, your hole tight, yet so slick that simon is able to sheathe himself along your rippling, pulsing walls in couple of squelchy slides, flicking his finger against your throbby, little bud of nerves, looking at the way you purr and meow in pleasure as he stretches you out, filling you so full your soft, little tummy bulges out from his girth.

simon will knock you up, knot your tight pussy nice, making you claw at his wide shoulders while he slobbers over your fluffy, plump tits, rough tongue torturing your perky nipples, suckling wet kisses on your tender body, that would be even more so after he'd make sure you're pregnant with his chubby pups, as you keen his name and plead him to breed you.

ears pressed tight to your head, flicking at each pound of his engorged, fattening cock in your leaking hole, rutting his thickening tip against your cervix, your spongy spot rubbing against his veiny shaft rapidly, making you writhe, turning his wide, muscular back in a mess of bleeding crescent scratches, as your long tail wraps around his leg, brushing against his thumping one, accepting simon's popping knot with pitchy meows and gushy hole.

your pregnancy would be an owners problem by the morning, when he'd stumble across you tucked against simon's solid chest, purring in your peaceful slumber after being sufficiently filled with loads of potent, thick cum, morning air filled with guttural, protective growls and clogging scent of sex, and it's seems like it's wouldn't be easy to make simon stay away from you from now on.

main masterlist. quidelines.

...Baby... I ATE THIS UP SO HARD.

do you really think simon hasn't noticed how you look at him?

simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader

tags/warnings: MDNI, breeding, unprotected sex, choking, pure fucking smut

It had been two months since you stepped foot onto the 141 base, and as soon as you had, eyes were constantly on you. The men of the 141 were hungry—and you were a pretty piece of meat walking in front of them. A temptress.

No one caught your eye...well, almost no one. The 6'2" muscled man in a mask was an enigma to you, stoic and cold. Every time you found yourself around him, his eyes peering at you through the holes in his skull mask, your stomach clenched in the best way.

It was like you were possessed, your eyes glued to his tall frame every time he moved. You watched the way his hands gripped his gun, the muscles in his forearms rippling as he did. His deep grunt of a voice mesmerized you, and the deep void of his eyes seemed to hold your own whenever he looked at you.

Your little crush was bad. It had gotten to the point where he couldn't look at you without your cheeks getting hot, and you could swear he smirked at you underneath the mask. Today, for example, the two of you had finished a mission and on the ride back to base, he had squeezed your thigh and given a gruff, "Good job."

The touch sent fire burning through your veins, and before you could respond, your cheeks had heated and your thighs clenched together. Swallowing, you cleared your throat and watched him move his hand. "Thanks," you managed to say, voice breathy.

As soon as the vehicle stopped, you hopped out and beelined for your quarters. You shut the door behind you, back resting on the cold metal. You were panting, heart pounding against your ribcage. Could he really affect you with just a simple touch?

Fuck, you were screwed.

That night, you brought out your bottle of vodka, intent on getting a little tipsy to take your mind off of the ache between your thighs that Ghost had brought on. You were about to take a shot when a knock at your door startled you.

Sighing, you got up and opened the door, surprised to see the tall, masked figure in your doorway. You blinked, eyes raking down his body. He surprisingly was out of his gear, left in a tank top that showed the rippling muscles of his biceps and the tattoo sleeve inked on his skin and a pair of cargo pants. The mask was still on, though. He never took it off.

"Ghost?" You questioned, brows raised. "Whatcha doin' here?"

He leaned against the doorframe, eyes peering at you through the mask. "Heard you had alcohol. Thought we could have a drink together."

A million questions hung on the tip of your tongue, but you asked none of them. This was your excuse to be alone with him, and you wanted to take it. You nodded, opening your door wider so he could slip through. You shut it and turned to look at him, hyper aware of the tank top hugging your breasts and the shorts that might have been a little too short to be worn around company.

Wordlessly, you sat down, pulling out another shot glass. You poured two shots and handed one to Ghost, face flushing when your fingers brushed against his. You met his eyes and held them as you knocked back the shot, placing the glass back down. Ghost lifted the bottom of his mask to reveal his pink lips and straight nose before taking his shot, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

You're not sure how it happened—maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the relief of the mission being over, maybe it was just the pent-up sexual tension between you two—but you didn’t protest as two of Ghost's thick fingers plunged in and out of your soaked pussy a few minutes later.

You squirmed underneath him, moans slipping past your lips, and Ghost's lips turned up into a smirk as he held you in place with his other hand, gripping your hips so tight he'd leave a bruise.

"Uh uh, don't fucking move, love," he murmured, dipping his head so his lips could brush against your neck. He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made you see stars, and your eyes fluttered shut.

He sucked and nipped at the skin of your neck, running his tongue over the tender marks he made, his thumb rubbing your clit in precise motions. Your nails gripped his bare arms, digging into the flesh and making him hiss.

"Clenching so tight around my fingers," he muttered, looking into your eyes, his lips inches from yours. "You've been wanting this haven't you?"

You nodded, whining as he added a third finger, stretching you out so good. Your legs trembled, your breath catching in your throat as your stomach tightened.

"Ghost," you whined out, silently pleading for release.

He didn't let up—just smirked and kept going, waiting. His hand moved from your hip to your chest, thumb flicking across your hardened nipples as your back arched.

It was funny how hard your orgasm hit you. A strangled sound left your throat, legs trembling as your pussy throbbed around his fingers. He slowed his rhythm, finger fucking your through your orgasm, lips moving to leave open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

"What a good fucking girl," he murmured, his voice deep and gravelly. "Ready for my cock?"

Slowly, he pulled his fingers from your pussy, pushing them past his lips and sucking your juices off. He moaned—actually moaned. It might be the hottest thing you'd ever seen before.

The only sound in the room was the clink of his belt as he unbuckled it and dropped his pants to the floor, underwear going with them. His cock was thick and veiny, and your mouth watered as he slowly stroked it. He pointed at you, making a circle with his finger, indicating he wanted you to roll over.

You rolled onto your stomach, arching your back and lifting your hips, exposing your dripping cunt to him. He groaned, and you jolted as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your sensitive folds.

"You think I haven't noticed how you look at me?" He asked, gripping your hair and pulling it so your shoulders were pressed against his chest. He looked down at you as he slowly pushed his thick cock inside your pussy, your mouth hanging open as you met his gaze. "Think you haven't noticed how you squeeze your pretty thighs together every time I touch you?"

His sentence was accentuated with a hard thrust, and you groaned softly as he moved his grip from your hair to your throat. He was so deep inside you, and it felt like fucking heaven.

"Always wanted you," you managed to say as he began fucking you, his pace hard and brutal. "Had so many fantasies about—fuck!"

Your words turned to a loud cry as he hit your g-spot, and he smirked down at you as he squeezed your neck. "Shhhh, love. Shut up and take my cock."

You held his gaze as he fucked you, his other hand moving to your clit and rubbing in fat circles. It was too much—the feeling of his cock hitting your g-spot, his fingers at your clit, the dizziness from the way he held your throat. You were going to come, and he could feel it.

"Come on, pretty girl. Can feel you fucking squeezing me," he breathed out, lips brushing against yours. "Come for me. Need to feel you milk my cock."

Your body trembled at his words, and as you came, his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was fierce and animalistic, his tongue sliding along yours as your pussy throbbed around his cock and juices gushed out onto his shaft. He tugged on your bottom lip, his lips curved into a smirk.

"Good fucking girl," he praised, his fingers moving from your clit to spread along your stomach. His grip on your throat was firm, and he let out small moans as he continued to fuck you. "Gonna fill this pretty pussy up."

You nodded, spewing out pleas and whimpers as his cock twitched inside you, leaning into his touch. His lips parted, and his head moved to rest in the crook of your neck, teeth biting down hard on the skin as his thrusts became sloppy.

Half a second later, he was flooding your pussy with his cum, grunting as he bit down on the skin of your shoulder. His thrusts slowed, his cock throbbing as he held his cock deep inside you. Ghost's tongue swirled around the bite mark on your skin as he lifted his head, panting softly, not moving.

He tilted your head up, kissing you slow and soft, your name slipping past his lips like a prayer. Your eyes peered into his, and he smiled at you—a real, genuine smile.

"We're gonna have to do that more often, soldier."