Divorced dad!Ghost noticing his new younger neighbor talking to his 4 year old daughter Emily, cooing over a frog she found while you tell her not to kiss it because it wont turn into a frog prince (duh), cigarette in hand as he silently watches.
That sundress does nothing to hide your frame, the swell of your breasts peeking out the top of the dress, a pretty necklace hanging in your cleavage, his cock chubs up nicely in his work pants, wishing he could just bend you over and take you in the middle of the street. He'll settle for just this for now.
30 minutes later Emily drags you to Simon to introduce you as "the pretty lady from next door" and you awe at her before sticking your hand out for a handshake towards the big brute.
He extends his thick calloused hand and shakes it firmly, feeling how soft your hand is, he feels no ring... good. He'll change that soon.
You end up talking for a while exchanging numbers before heading off to wherever you were going before.
Ghost stares at the phone number you gave him before quickly shutting his phone off, already anticipating the next time he sees you.
Ghost is wild feral about your tits. When you ask why, he just says they fit his palms so well, so squishy squishy, like it's his personal stress toy. So when he puts you in a very mean mating press, using his sizeable and pronounced shoulders to pin your doughy thighs down, he happily slobbers away on your tits (where his mouth covers your boob, his tongue giving your nipple flicks every second and his fingers kneading and pinching the other), while his thick girth delicious pushes in and out of your weeping hole, giving your clitoris its occasional sting, as your back arches giving him more to suck on. Not to mention his episodic whining, ecstatic eye rolls and intoxicated (boobsdrunk) sight always lingering on your gaping, sweating face all the time as Ghost holds you by your waist, his hands wandering everywhere to give you more sensation. His ultimate aim to have your boobs to suck on and make you blissfully spent on your orgasms.
König is pathetic when it comes to your tits. No matter what you are doing, he will and absolutely will come up to you from behind, only to grab your precious assets in his wide palms, all while his chubby erection humps on your rear end. He kisses the side of your neck, gripping and kneading your boobs fully with sharp precision, his mind drowning in the feeling of it. When you finally give in to his relentless requests, his brain short circuits at the view of you sitting with nothing on in his lap. He slowly kisses (almost makes out) with your nipple, sending electric shocks through your body. He helps you sink down on the monstrously sized shaft of his, but you still jerk even after having so many such encounters with him. Not once does he not give attention to your boobs, for he whines on moans on them. Your nails dig in his shoulders, but he doesn't give a shit as long as his mouth is occupied and you are enjoying. When you finally reach your climax, his head is squeezed by you into your chest., where he just feels bliss and heaven.
Extension - [Simon Riley x F!Reader]
cw: n/a (I don't think so anyway)
note: dog-dad Simon Riley save me
PART TWO
As soon as you got pregnant, Simon got a dog.
At first, you were cursing him -- calling him all the names under the sun. And it wasn't Riley's fault, the sweet pup had done no wrong, and it wasn't your husbands fault either; he was training him, taking him for walks, feeding him.
You were just emotional and the thought of being left with a German Shepherd who was growing faster than you could think if Simon were to get deployed left you feel nauseous. And no, it wasn't just the morning sickness.
And your intuition was right cause Simon got a call while the pair of you were out walking Riley. He was nearly as tall as you on his hind legs and probably weighed around the same as you did -- Riley was a tank.
Before Simon left, he ruffled the top of the dog's head and murmured something to him. Then he hissed you on the lips, crouched down to press his lips against you bump with one simple request: wait til daddy's home.
It was a couple nights down the line when you heard the creek of the front door. You were half asleep, exhausted from a long day of work and Riley was at the foot of the bed. Had he not growled, you'd have thought it was a dream.
He was off the bed in an instance, pawing at the door and your blood was ice as you threw back the covers. Opening the door, you asked, 'Who's there, boy?'
He was off like a bat out of hell. Teeth gritted, his barks resonating off the hallway as he scuttled down the steps. You followed behind him, heartbeat in your chest.
And then you heard it. Simon was chuckling.
'Good-fuckin'-boy,' he chimed. You peered over the bannister to see him pulling off his mask with one hand and petting Riley with the other. 'Keeping my girls safe.'
And suddenly, his reasoning for getting Riley made sense -- right down to the name. The dog was just an extension of Simon.
Everytime someone draws Ghost looking like Samuel Roukin an angel is born and a fairy grows stronger and the light shines brighter and the air is cleaner.
"I Like'em Big" - Simon "GHOST" Riley x reader (sfw)
Summary: Y/N wears Simon's hoodie, wears her hair down for the first time, and Simon doesn't know what to do with himself.
Word Count: 2800+
Warnings: military reader, 141 interactions, bar shenanigans, alcohol consumption, reader has long hair, Simon being completely enamoured by reader, he's a big softie for her, fluff
a/n: not proofread. Hope this wasn't OOC for Ghost, I really tried to keep him as himself from the 2019 Modern Warfare game.
Main Masterlist
Surprisingly, the ride back to base wasn't filled with the usual silence that coincided with exhaustion. Instead, it was filled with the sounds of celebration and joking quips, mostly from Gaz and Soap but the others were listening, amused by their antics.
"I say we head to the bar, just outside the base." Soap suggested, giddiness clear in his tone.
Gaz nudged him, "That sounds good, brother."
Soap then turned his attention to Price, "What do ye say, Captain? You in?"
Price gave a little nod, exhaling the smoke from his cigar. "I could use a drink."
"What about you, L.T? Y/N? Fancy a drink?" Soap asked the pair, who sat next to each other.
The big, burly Brit gave a low hum which to anyone who didn't know him would've thought that was a clear no, but Soap laughed and Y/N smiled. "I say that's a yes."
He looked to Y/N, "That only leaves you, lass."
Y/N shook her head, waving a hand to brush off his proposal. "I think I'll pass." Ghost turned his head to look down at her.
"Oh come on." Gaz complained in the back while Soap crossed his arms.
"What do ya got to get back at base to that's so important that ya wouldn't want to go with us?" Soap argued, his voice laced with playful intent.
She snickered. "Take a shower for one."
"Are ya serious?" Soap huffed.
"Look, I know you might like walking around like a human dust cloud but I can feel the dirt in places I'd rather not mention." Y/N teased, and smirked his way.
She glanced over to Gaz who had let out a small laugh, which made her laugh quietly to herself.
Soap leaned forward, "Come on, we don't need another ghost disappearin on us."
Y/N shook her head, "I'm not disappearing on anybody."
"Then come with us." Soap continued to prod.
The two stared at each other for a long moment before Y/N sighed and threw her arms in the air in mock annoyance. "Fine, I guess I'll come but only if I can change first."
"Deal." Soap grinned as he held out a fist toward Y/N. She lifted a fist of her own, and bumped it against Soap's then leaned back in her spot in the plane.
Soon, the team made it back to base, filtering off the carrier plane one by one, and chatting amongst themselves. Price came off the plane first, followed shortly by Soap and Gaz then Ghost and Y/N. It was already dark out, the fluorescent lights from inside the base beaming out and onto the concrete floor that made up the helipad.
Once stepping inside, Y/N departed from the men, reassuring Soap that she would meet them in the parking lot once she changed out of her uniform. She b-lined for her room, locking the door behind her and heaving a sigh, letting her shoulders relax and allowing herself a moment to herself. Even though she agreed to go out with the guys, Y/N was utterly exhausted; it seemed to take great effort just to breathe. It was as if her lungs were beyond their limit and wanted to rest.
But Simon was going out too, while not rare, he never went out consistently. More often than not, he opted to stay behind and get some sleep. There were also occasions when he and Y/N would make tea in the break room and talk about everything and nothing in the lulling moments when the base was quiet.
She loved those moments, appreciating the fact that on their off time, Simon liked to share his time with her. As much as she loved the guys, Simon provided an unknown incentive to go to the bar.
Y/N sighed, trudging over to her cot to undress. She traded her grimy uniform for a pair of clean jeans, a white tank top, and her typical combat boots. However, it was a bit cold outside so she decided to grab a hoodie. Her eyes immediately found the one that she kept folded at the end of her bed.
It was a standard black hoodie, no flashy design or words, a simple color with nothing else. This hoodie was special though as it belonged to a certain 6'2" Lieutenant.
Y/N smiled to herself as she grabbed it and pulled it over her head. It hung loose on her body, the hem of it touching her mid thigh and the sleeves engulfed her arms but she felt safe in it., protected. She couldn't help to thumb at the fabric of the collar, thinking for a second before she dipped her nose down to breathe in the smell of it.
Despite having worn the hoodie multiple times (mostly when she slept), the musky scent of Simon lingered there. It smelled of an earthy cologne that Simon wore, smoke with a twinge of metal. She hummed at the scent, but before she got too caught up in her own mind, she grabbed her phone, wallet, and headed out to the parking lot.
Y/N knew exactly where Soap parked his truck so she made a b-line straight for it, not too far from the front doors of the base. Walking out into the parking lot, she saw that the guys were already standing and waiting by the black pickup.
Soap was the first one to see, and as soon as he did, his eyes widened. "Jesus, lass! You look like yer gettin swallowed whole inside that thing!"
Simon whipped his head around to see what the commotion was about, his heart skipping a beat when he got a good look at Y/N, wearing his hoodie.
Y/N felt the slightest bit sheepish at Soap's comment, but tried not to let it show. "I do not." She retorted, "It's windy out here and I'm cold."
She walked past Soap to head towards Simon who stood beside the backdoor. Before she got in she glanced over her shoulder at the Scot. "Besides, I like'em big."
For a brief second, Y/N's eyes flicked from Soap to narrow in on Simon as she said that, picking up at the quick breath he took and held it in. She smirked then quickly climbed into the back seat.
Simon briefly locked eyes with Soap, seeing a boyish smirk on the Sergeant's face. He huffed, then followed Y/N into the truck.
He knew he shouldn't have let it slip to Johnny about his "admiration" for Y/N or else he wouldn't have that shit eating grin on his face.
Soap only laughed before climbing into his truck. Price sat up front with him while Simon, Y/N and Gaz sat in the back. It was a tad of a squeeze (mostly due to Simon's large stature), but it wasn't so bad. Though Gaz was the second to gawk at Y/N's ginormous hoodie, and she laughed saying that the bigger the hoodie, the more comfortable to which he then asked the rhetorical question of 'what is it with girls and hoodies?'
The team laughed, Simon on the other hand, kept peeking down at Y/N seeing her completely covered by the black fabric, remembering the night he gave it to her. It had been a night of hushed conversation, a shared moment of privacy among the chilled air, and as she shivered in her spot beside him, he took only a second to stop and pull off his sweatshirt then plop it in her lap.
She had been stunned, it was evident from the look she gave, but she wasted no time pulling the fabric over her head. Once it engulfed her figure, she let out a relieved hum, a smile and tucked her face into the collar of it.
Simon loved the way it hung around her, like she belonged inside of it.
On any given day, Simon would not have done something that was clearly so intimate to him, but this was a moment that Y/N and him shared alone, without the eyes of anyone on base. However, seeing Y/N wearing it now with everyone to see felt scandalous, if he had to label it; a deeper peek into his psyche.
He couldn’t decide if he liked that or not.
The sharp pause of the vehicle into a parking spot, provided Simon an escape from the suddenly hot air of the truck as he hopped out. Once everyone stepped out, following Soap, they all headed toward the bar. It was a small, modest place, nothing fancy but it would keep them busy for the next few hours. Soap walked up to the bars' counter to sit down, followed by all of 141.
Y/N sat beside Soap, who was already ordering a drink, and Simon came up to the empty seat to the right of Y/N with Price and Gaz sitting closer to Soap.
“Keep the drinks to a minimum, would you Soap? Last time you got drunk, we had to drag you back to the base.” Y/N pointedly suggested.
Soap scoffed, “Oi, are you my mother? I can handle myself.”
At that, Y/N let out an amused laugh coming from the gut. “No you can’t. You were so out of it that you thought you were being kidnapped when we hoisted you up into Price’s truck.”
Soap paused for a moment, eyes drifting upward as if he were searching through his memories of that night. “I don’t remember that.”
“You wouldn’t remember, mate.” Gaz chirped in, “You’d put a sailor to shame with as much drink as you had.”
“More like the whole ship.” Price added with a huffed smirk and then took a drink of his whiskey.
Y/N readjusted in her seat as she turned to slightly face the Scot, “I had to keep Ghost from killing you; you’d kicked him right in the ribs and you better believe you owe me.”
“Ah, Ghost woulda’ kill me. He’s too fond of my daring personality.” Soap teased, leaning forward to peer around Y/N to look at Simon.
“Don’t count yourself lucky, Johnny. A kick to the ribs makes a compelling argument for killin’ ya.” Simon simply stated, thick accent and husky voice making him sound serious.
Y/N chuckled to herself however at his obvious banter, taking a sip of her drink.
A loud pfft sound left Soap’s mouth, waving off Simon’s words and swallowing his bourbon down in one go.
Soap set his glass down onto the bar with a thud before he spoke again. “And of course, the only thing that could stop the giant was the fluttering eyes of our lass here.”
If she was honest with herself, that very idea made Y/N’s heart flutter and unconsciously, she bit her bottom lip, sparing a subtle glance up to Simon. His dark eyes glowed in the ambient light of the bar, casting a shadowed glare toward the Scot in an oddly defensive way.
He said nothing, but he didn’t have to. His expression said it all.
“Aww, don’t get bent out of shape LT. No man could resist such beauty.” Soap holds up his hands in fake surrender.
“Shove off, Soap.” Y/N playfully pushed the Scot at the same time he slipped off his bar stool.
“Anyone want to play a round of pool?” Soap offered, taking a step back from Y/N’s strong left hook.
Gaz nodded, quickly finishing his drink and ordering another. “I’m in.”
“I suppose I could weigh in.” Price says, slipping out of his seat and following Soap and Gaz to the empty pool table off to the corner.
Y/N leaves no time for Simon to give a definitive answer while she hops off her bar stool, leaving her cup behind. “May as well. You coming, Simon?”
She glances over her shoulder and It’s obvious that he is caught off-guard, making a great effort to look unaffected. However, he hums and gets up from his seat.
He seems to automatically trail behind Y/N in her path to the pool table, where the rest of the team is waiting.
“You and LT are a team; Gaz and I are a team. Alright with you two?” Soap automatically assigns, watching Y/N shrug.
“Sounds good to me.” Y/N smirked, already picking up a pool cue.
While Soap and Gaz grab their own pool cues, Y/N takes this opportunity to let her hair (literally), pulling the hair band from the tight bun she had it in and letting the tresses fall to her shoulders.
Simon watches as the thick strands fall from the bun, and lightly bounce once they hit her shoulders and back. The cool air of the bar wafting from outside, breezes past Y/N and into Simon; there’s a scent of gunpowder with an underlying smell of a fruity soap from her shampoo.
Those two types of scents don’t belong, Simon thinks, however, he cannot deny that it suits Y/N in an odd way and he takes a moment to commit it to memory.
“Woah, Y/N…” Gaz comments, looking up from the pool table.
Soap whips his head up from aligning the cue ball with the solid and striped ones. “How the hell do you keep all that wrapped up?”
“I’m just magic like that.” Y/N smirks, running her fingers through her hair to massage the soreness on her scalp.
“Teach me your magic?” Gaz teases Y/N as he steps over to her.
She hums, “I don’t know Gaz, you actually have hair in order to learn my ways.”
The group laughs as Gaz nudges her away from him, all in good fun of course.
She takes the opportunity to spare a glance up to Simon, seeing that he is staring down at her with a shine in his eyes that tells her only the good things about what he must be thinking. Before he catches it, she smirks and turns back to the others to begin their game.
From that moment on, for the rest of the evening, the tension grew with each passing second. Only ripening, the few times during their pool match, when Y/N leaned down to shoot her shot, and she would slide back to stand straight up, there Simon would be; looming shadow over her while keeping a respectful distance.
It was all palpable in a way that only Y/N and Simon knew, but not bursting at the seams. No, it was slowly simmering, waiting for the right opportunity to be released.
By the time the night ended, the boys buzzed and chipper, the squad made it back to base with little to no problems, from Soap that is who made it apparent that he was perfectly consciousness.
It got a laugh out of them, as Simon and Y/N departed and were finally alone.
They were heading to their respective rooms, the heavy thud of their boots hitting the ground, the only sound between them as they walked down a long corridor. It remained that way until Y/N broke the silence.
“Did you have fun, Simon?”
He looked to her from the invisible spot on the ground that he’d been watching, “As much fun as I could, I suppose.”
“Me too. It’s nice to relax every once in a while.” She hums contently.
“I imagine it’s not difficult to relax when you have a sweatshirt that’s two sizes too big.” Simon remarks, hearing Y/N laugh as he does.
“You have a point there!”
There’s a brief pause before Simon speaks up again, “Do you fancy wearing clothes that swallow you whole?”
She stops in her path, suddenly standing in front of her room door, one that Simon almost missed as he came to an abrupt stop. “Only when I’m attached to it.”
They stand and stare, soaking in the implications, and reveling in the secret between them.
Simon, in a moment of courage he’s not sure where it came from, raises a calloused hand to gently slide his index finger against the skin of her cheek. “Well, I’d say it suits you.”
Y/N smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges in a softness that she doesn’t direct to just anyone. No, this is only for him because despite all the teasing and flirting, that is not where her affection stops. Not when her heart is thundering beneath her ribcage with her skin completely flushed with desire.
Without much thought, Y/N leans forward, forcing herself up onto her tippy toes and plants the softest of kisses to his cheek. Though it's covered by his balaclava, he feels the pressures of her lips against him, the warmth of them seeping past the mask and into his skin so much so, that when Y/N eventually pulls away, he leans forward the slightest bit to keep her there.
Her eyes flick up to meet his, shining with something unspoken yet recognized as wanting. However, she doesn’t act on it, instead she keeps the small distance between their bodies and whispers three simple words.
it's simon riley's thing to fuck you in a headlock. that turns him on and his tip leaking and drooling all over his brute abdomen.
when you're spoon fucking, he wraps a strong, muscular arm around your neck, muscles flexing as he holds, making sure you're restrained and bound while you take his girthy cock, feeling him slide deep inside your gummy walls. your pussy throbs and clenches around his shaft, eyes rolled back and your jaw hanging open, pleasure dripping from your little cunt.
“look at ya’... whiney’ slag.”
he spits, muttering his harsh and hurtful words into your ear while tightening the already firm grip he has on your neck. you cry softly, body shaking with euphoria and stress as you attempt to breathe. you drag your nails along his upper arm, moaning out to catch your breath while he slams and pounds into you, knocking the wind from your lungs with his aggressive pace.
“keep takin’ it all, lovie. tha’s my girl-- thereee we go... attagirrrllll...”
he chokes you tightly, holding you firmly while you sob out due to your air restriction. simon absolutely adores the power dynamics between you two, how easily he's able to shut you up with a nice, firm fucking.
only when you're gasping desperately will he free you, before grasping your neck firmly, a large hand choking you, fucking you deeper while you whine and choke.
simon joined the military right after he lost his wife and daughter, he figured he could numb his pain better this way, take out his pain in the field. his eyes still never lit up like they did all those years ago. but it was the small things that made it better. he would always love his wife and his daughter. but he knew he had to move on at some point.
when he returned with no one holding any signs for him and nothing but a taxi to get him home, watching his friends hug on to wives, children, parents and all… he realized how lonely he was. he just needed someone to hold for a few days when he was here.
he didn’t exactly go looking for you. but with one click on a website and a few scrolls down, he eventually came across your profile.
you wanted to co-parent a child, needed a sperm donor and had a lot of good qualities from what he could tell. it was a way for him to finally fulfill his paternal instincts and to cope. it was probably the unhealthiest thing but he knew he couldn’t replace his daughter nor his wife, but this was a better thing.
he wanted to do it the natural way. he didn’t believe in any other methods. he wanted to be inside of you, to feel you milk him down and clench around him. he wanted to watch your face contort into pleasure and to hear those pretty precious sounds. he wanted to make a baby not just leave you with a bottle of his sperm, he wanted to fuck a baby into you and to put his hand on you belly so that he can feel himself filling you up. he wanted to see lots of it spilling out of you and to use his thick fingers to fuck it back inside of you.
and he wanted to do it as many times as he could before he was called back out, he wanted to come back and to see your belly swelled and to hold you in the night.
