SIMON "GHOST" RILEY Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare 3, (2023)

Bravo 6-1

hellos!! i’ve been missing ghost :( maybe this boring but i just need some nice soft smut w him! maybe sprinkle in a breeding kink if you feel so inclined.. love you fern ❤️

requesting a breeding kink ?? ily more !!

18+, fem!reader, hashtag balls deep and breeding babyyyyy (sorry)

the weight of simon on top of you was always something you loved. to feel the sheer mass of him press down against you, to have the soft ridges of his belly and chest against your own, was something you cherished.

and when he was balls-deep inside the tight heat of your cunt? even better.

he had your legs spread wide, revealing the sopping core of your cunt to him in the darkness of your bedroom. you didn’t know what time it was, nor did you care— you woke up in the middle of the night, horny as fuck, and needed your husband’s cock. right then and there.

and he was more than happy to do so.

he had sunk into you with a guttural groan, your pussy already slick with arousal. you let him in so easily, the way your gummy walls stretched to take his thick cock. he never got over the feeling. never will get over the feeling of your sopping cunt opening up for him and clutching him tight.

he buried his face into the crook of your neck when he bottomed out, grinding his hips against yours. he groaned into the soft skin of your throat at the feeling of you clenching around him. he could feel the softness of your belly and tits beneath him, his large arms caging you under him. heaven on earth.

“s’that feel good?” he asked you, nosing at the pulse below your earlobe. simon canted his hips forward, starting a pace of thrusts, the head of his cock finding that perfect spot within you in seconds. “s’that good, baby?”

“yeah,” you whined, nodding as his big body shunted you up the bed, but the weight of his body atop yours kept you anchored. he was reaching so deep inside you with this angle.

your hands rubbed up and down the wide expanse of his back, grappling at the soft muscle there. your legs kicked up and locked around his thighs, holding him impossibly closer to you as he pushed his cock in and out of you. each thrust of his cock drew wet sounds from your cunt, causing heat to ripple through your body and pleasure to settle deep in the pit of your stomach.

“simonnn,” you dragged out through a moan. the pleasure in your tummy was building, sweat accumulating between your pinned bodies.

simon grunted and groaned into your neck, lips attached to the soft skin there. he sucked and nipped between sounds of pleasure, focused on the rock of his hips against yours and the deep plunge of his cock near the plug of your cervix. his soft belly pressed to yours, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to all the possibilities. the possibilities of filling you up— getting you pregnant.

the thought made simon moan, loud and dramatic. the sound had your pussy clenching hard around his cock, arousal dribbling from where it was split open over his cock. the pleasure in your stomach twisted tighter, tingles beginning to set in the base of your spine.

“i love you so much,” simon suddenly said, picking his head from out of your neck. he looked down at you with a soft gaze. but there was infatuation in those dilated pupils. “‘m gonna get you pregnant, baby.”

you moaned, back arching off the bed, sweat gathering across your skin. you were burning up as he pushed you closer to release.

“yeah, you like that?” simon lilted, smiling down at you as his thrusts rocked the bed— and you. “‘m so deep, aren’t I? so deep in this pretty tummy. just wanna fill it up.” he added, slipping a hand between the two of you to pet your belly, but only for a few seconds.

“how’s that sound? you want me to come inside you? you want me to get you pregnant?” simon continued as your body slowly began to shudder, pleasure bubbling inside you, static bursting in your nerve endings. simon leaned down and kissed you. “yeah, i know, baby. i’ll come inside you and stuff your pretty tummy full.”

“simon, fuck, m’gonna come—” you mewled, clutching on to him in the fear that your orgasm would make you lose your hold on him.

simon kissed you again. “you can come for me, baby. then ‘m gonna come deep inside this pussy and make you a mama.”

you came with an explosion of stars behind your eyelids. your body jolted and shuddered beneath his, orgasm wracking through you. your cunt pulled tight around the thick of simon’s cock, gushing with each twitch of your legs. you moaned and whined, whimpering his name as he fucked you through the entire thing.

“make you a mama…” simon repeated in some kind of delirious whisper, before he was grasping and moaning out your name, desperately and with a rasp to the syllables. he stuffed himself to the root inside you and came up against the base of your cervix, moaning the entire time.

you felt the warmth fill you, your body hot and sweaty. as his cock emptied inside of you, twitching with the last of it, simon kissed you gently, smoothing his lips against yours.

“i meant it, you know,” he said quietly, cock slowly starting to soften inside you.

“what?” you smiled. “that you’ll get me pregnant?”

simon chuckled and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “no, not that. i mean, that’s true, but that’s not what i meant.”

“no?”

“no,” he said, kissing you again. “i meant it when i said i love you.”

you smiled against his lips. “i know. i love you too.”

greeble neeble gomble womp?? e mfucking worgle smeet huga dorble!!!!

You: Someone unable to appreciate "real" food because you're desensitised to junk (your fav meal is McD chicken nuggets and you're convinced that no one can take that from you.)

Chef! Simon: A fine dining, Michelin-starred chef who's determined to train your taste buds to appreciate real food.

The only vision of this I have:

You go to Simon's restaurant with idk maybe your girl friend because her partner was called away to work on emergency, and she didn't want to waste the booking to the fancy place, whatever it doesn't matter. You get the simplest thing on the menu, nibble at it and then send it back half-eaten. Simon is so aghast at this that he comes out to the floor himself, wants to meet the customer who dared send his food back. Asks if there was a quality problem. Asks what about the dish wasn't to your taste. Asks if he can make you anything else.

When you say no to all of the above, he's polite (but seething inside) and leaves. Comps your meal. Invites you back privately.

His form of romancing you is inviting you back to his restaurant after hours and taking you on a culinary journey, introducing you to flavours and textures you've never tried before, finding the tastes that you like, feeding you iterations of those until you feel comfortable to try fancier stuff.

You both fall in love in the process.

He stands in between your legs as you sit on his kitchen counter after hours one day. Two dishes in front of you - one containing McD chicken nuggets, one containing nuggets that he's made. Per his request, you try both.

He kisses you for the first time when you tell him you can't believe you ever liked McDonald's.

Hngggggg. Nikto being balls deep inside you, face buried into your shoulder, murmuring in Russian about how perfect you are, how tight and warm and loving. Made for him. Reparations from the universe for all his pain and suffering. He’ll never leave you, never. He is yours and you are his. He doesn’t care if he has to chain you to him and throw away the key.

Some more ghostprice for brenna! Thanks for waiting 😮‍💨⚡️

😠.

BTW if you've unlocked simp!simon then good luck trying to get out of bed.

Once he leaves the tough guy act around you you got yourself a 6'4 leech with abandonment issues. Bro is a boa constrictor in bed, NEEDS to touch you somehow to sleep no matter the temperature otherwise he'll puke, and don't get me started on nights he got flaring anxiety from the nightmares, which are often.

Man will wake up and walk with you to the bathroom like a kicked kitten if you gotta pee on a bad night. And if you want any privacy you gotta kick him out to wait by the door otherwise he is standing next to you the whole time half asleep cuz he's a weirdo.

If you tend to wake up earlier than him for whatever he refuses for you to do your morning routine somewhere else. You're chilling on your phone, putting makeup on, stretching, that's fine, do it in the room. If you try to tell him that you're loud or that you need music in the morning no argument works. Play your music as loud as you want, turn on whatever light, open the windows, his sleep doesn't matter he needs to see you around in the morning, there's no talking him out of it.

If anything it's his favourite time. To be woken up by you doing such mundane tasks, feeling all safe. If you're passing around the bed he'll sneak an arm out and snatch you for a couple minutes (actually half an hour wake up early or you'll be late) cuddle.

"Please, just a couple more times? Please?"

Your kid is relentless. You're tired from a whole afternoon of fun, and your arm's sore. You gently explain this to them, smiling weakly when they pout. Then you look at your husband, whose eyes shock you. Simon looks as letdown as the kid. The paper of his face mask subtly moves, and your brow pinches in confusion, unable to make out what he's trying to say. Then he lifts his free hand. Three. Three more.

You huff, a little grin overtaking your weariness. You're reminded these moments are not just for the kid, who holds one hand each as they walk between you, but for Simon, too.

It breaks your heart when you think of what he did not have or experience as a child. 

So, you bend slightly and squeeze your kiddo's hand. 

"Okay, three more swings. Then my arm's going to fall off."

Your kid giggles madly as you and Simon swing them again. Simon's gaze is fond and soft, low chuckles rumbling out as he watches the kid's feet come up off the ground. When you inevitably reach swing number three, your eyes meet again. This time, it's you who raises three fingers.

Simon deserves all this and more.

“I think you’re very likable, Simon.”

The man in the skull mask instantly jerks his gaze up to connect with the other man’s face, as if it’ll be obvious he was just joking.

Ghost’s therapist looks evenly back at him, blinking innocently.

“What,” the masked man finally grits, annoyed that he won’t even acknowledge the joke.

“You’ve convinced yourself that you’re scary enough to keep people from wanting to get to know you. I hate to tell you this, but it’s not working. I’ve liked you from the first session.”

The masked man glares down at his own scarred fingers, entwining them slightly atop his knees. “You’re paid to like people.”

“Something I find interesting about you is that you have, by your own words, a little gaggle of people in your life who won’t leave you alone. Follow you around everywhere, talk to you when they don’t have to, support you when you need it. What do you think is more likely, that lightning has struck you that many times, or that you might be a little bit likable?”

Ghost sits with that for a minute in silence, trying to manufacture a scenario in his own mind where different kinds of lightning just happen to strike the same spot, purely by nature of the infinite possibilities of the universe.

“I don’t like you,” he finally tells his kneecaps.

The therapist inwardly smiles. There it is again.