Peter: I Don’t Feel So Good… Alexa, Play ‘Another One Bites The Dust’.

Under-Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

nsfw/smut, fem!reader, teasing/edging, fingering, cunnilingus, fem!orgasm

Today was different and you mean different. Ghost hadn’t been at the weekly afternoon meeting today which caused you to knit your eyebrows in confusion. That’s until Price had announced that Ghost was “sick” and wouldn’t be able to make the meeting. It was you and a few other people including Soap.

(Your sitting down the far of the table)

You called total bull shit on it since Ghost seems to rarely get sick and which he would of touched base with you on if he wasn’t feeling all that well.

Through a 15 long minutes of Price going on and on about the new upcoming mission that was coming in the next few weeks, your attention wasn’t really focused on him. Your focus what something in between your legs, and that something was a person. And that person was Ghost. What a surprise.

You peered down, trying not to make it to obvious, seeing as his blue eyes stared lustfully up into yours as his hands squeezed the back of your calves. You quickly looked up back to Price who was still babbling about the mission, your cheeks growing hot.

His fingers danced and ran along your inner and upper thigh, drawing circles around your exposed skin. Fuck, why’d you have to wear a skirt this afternoon. His hands had traveled more in between your thighs, pushing them further out then they where. You tried to squeeze them to get him to stop but his force out stronged you and he forced them open.

His thick fingers, ran up under your skirt, your warmth coding his cooler hands, making your skin shiver in goosebumps. You felt his two of his fingers press against the warmth in between your crotch, you knew he could feel how wet you where already getting from the quick arousal pooling in you.

He rubbed his fingers against your wet panties, pressing just around your pulsing clit, making you shutter under his touch. His index finger rubbed up and down your clothed pussy, teasing you to work you up. You practically kick him in a light manner to tell him to stop with the teasing. Which he chuckled quietly to himself, pressing his fingers harder against your pussy, teasing you once more.

He scrapped his two fingers to the side hem of your panties, pulling the fabric up. He snapped the fabric back against your pussy, making your eyes widen and look around to make sure no one had heard. Both of his hands lingered up your skirt, all the way up to the top of your panties, grabbing the hem of the elastic and pulling them down your thigh. Your heart was pounding and your cheeks felt warmer.

He made it almost past mid way down your thigh before tapping you, making you look down at him again, seeing as he looked at you and at your crotch. Motioning you to buck your hips up so he could pull them the rest off.

You looked away from him, gaining the confidence and pushing your hips up, allowing him to slide the rest of your panties off. As soon as he got them to your ankles he grabbed them and shoved them into his pocket. As your pussy was now exposed, he pushed your legs open again, a cool breeze hitting your hot cunt. You bit your lip, feeling as his slender thick fingers snaked up to your pussy, feeling as one of his fingers slid into your slit, rubbing against the wetness that was pooling. Your fingers gripped against the edge of your chair, still trying to keep some focus to Price.

One of his fingers entered you, curling his finger right against the base of your g-spot. Your vagina felt like it clenched around his finger, the sensation feeling like you had to pee but you really didn’t. He rubbed against your spot again and again, slipping in another finger. He wanted to edge you, wanted to feel as your vagina clenched around his fingers, the way your wetness lubed his fingers. He would imagine as you came around his fingers, around a room where no one knew what was going on under the table.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, stretching your plush pussy out. Your clit was jolting with excitement, until Ghost removed his fingers and replaced them with his mouth. He licked a straight line up your pussy, tension was growing inside of you, the excitement of doing this in front of people was making you wetter.

His tongue swirled around your pussy, teasing your clit, adding and un adding pressure. He grabbed your hips, sliding your lower body forward more against his face almost burrowing it into you. His mouth sucked and nibbled at your clit. This was more exciting then doing this in the bedroom, it was more of a rise in a way.

His tongue felt like it was writing his name against your cunt, feeling you up. You where covering your mouth at this point, holding back your small moans that where begging to be heard. Your bottom lip feeling as it was about to be chewed off from your teeth biting against it to keep yourself shut. Your thighs squeezing against his head as you felt yourself getting somewhat closer to your orgasm. This made Ghost stop, making you take a breath but squeezing your thighs again in a way of telling him why he stopped.

Ghost had wanted to wait for your orgasm to slowly disappear before he dug his face back into you, his tongue pacing around in nice circular motions. Tongue fucking you nice and slow but rough as he laid his tongue flat, licking a straight line. His tongue was rough in a way, not like sandpaper but still moist. Your mouth was still concealed with your hand, biting at the top of your thumb, your eyes drifting closed off and on. You still tried to focus on Price, but it got to the point where you couldn’t, you could only concentrate on how Ghost was eating you up.

That’s until…..

“(Your name)? What is your opinion about the mission? You’ve been extra quiet back there….” His thick british voice rang in your ears, making you uncover your mouth, raising your eyebrows and giving him a small smile like you where paying attention. Ghost stopped, listening to you as his head was still buried in between your legs.

“I uh…..I agree with what your saying. I think the mission will be a great succ-“ Before you could finish, Ghost had pushed two direct fingers inside of you, your hands gripped the table, getting lost in thought as Ghost pumped his fingers once again inside of you. His fingers circled and curled inside of you.

“(Your name)? Are you alright?” Price was about to walk over before you told him to continue what he was talking about, not to worry about you. You held in a moan as you powered through the comment to him. Price just raised an eyebrow, giving you a puzzled look before waving it off and rolling his eyes before he continued again. You where released.

You thought you where fucked at that point. You gave Ghost a little kick under the desk which he squeezed your calf in return. You knew he had that shit eating grin on his face like he usually does.

Ghost removed his fingers, placing his hot wet mouth right back on where he was sucking and teasing at. Your clit.

You wanted to tease Ghost back, taking your heel/shoe off and placing it right against his groin, feeling that he was already hard. ‘Already hard for me?’ You thought to yourself, ‘Just by eating my pussy?’.

Ghosts breath hitched on your pussy, which ended with a low heardless groan that vibrated against you. You smiled at yourself. Ghost went harder against you swollen clit, rutting his tongue in all the right places. The feeling of you cumming was already getting close but you wanted to make Ghost cum first.

Your foot rubbed in circles on his dick, feeling as it twitch lightly in his jeans. Ghosts eyes where closed, humming sweetly into your cunt as he ate. He was already close, all this pussy eating was getting him so worked up he was about to cum right into his jeans. You wanted to see his face so badly, the way how precious it must be, cheeks dusted pink and temple glossy with sweat. The way his dick was probably already leaking with pre-cum was making you horny. To feel his cock inside of you was making your tummy turn and your pussy pulse with excitement.

He ate you up like you where his finally meal, he went faster as you rubbed your foot against the bulge of his dick. You looked round quickly seeing as Price was to busy talking to a recruiter, you decided to grind against Ghosts face slightly. Bucking your hips more into his face. This made Ghost hungrier. He sucked on your clit, teeth grazing just ever so slightly against it, making you sigh quietly into your hand.

You spread your legs wider, making Ghost burry deeper. There was the knot again. Your lower stomach turned again, feeling it made your legs tremble, trying to get yourself to cum faster. Your foot rubbing against Ghosts crotch left, you couldn’t focus on making him cum first, you where busy with yourself cumming against Ghosts face. You bit against your thumb, your body feeling hot and sweaty as Ghost ate you out faster and faster until finally came on his face.

You hips bucked forward as you did, your legs trembled as your orgasm hit. Your eye lids closed feeling your pussy tingle. Ghost lapped you up, removing his face from your crotch, wiping the access off his face. He watched as you hips moved slowly against the chair, still coming slowly down from your climax. Your legs still spread for him.

Ghost rubbed his dick through his pants at the sight of you grinding against the chair. He was about to pull his dick out and finish himself off here but decided to wait, he wanted to fuck you like he wanted to in the first place. Hard and balls deep.

Your eyes scanned the room, seeing Price finishing up the meeting with his corny wrap up. He told everyone to be ready for the mission and he’ll see you later. You stayed out for a second as everyone left, even Price waved to you not saying a word as he left the room. You looked in between your legs, seeing as Ghost was gone, that’s until you heard the door slam shut and lock.

“Clothes off and on the table, now”

anyone who reblogs this will get a random picture of someone in the mcu [MUST HAVE YOUR SUBMISSION OPEN]

Damn sassy hydra agent

Sassy HYDRA agent

white flag ✹ epilogue

note: im kinda sad to say, but this will be the final part of this series! im so so grateful for all the love and support for it, this was honestly so fun to write! i hope everyone enjoys and have a wonderful day/night!!!!<3<3<3

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

no use of y/n

reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: your night in date with simon :)

warnings: domesticity, so much fluff, soap and gaz are wingmen again, tiny bit of light angst

ao3

【prev】

of all the things in this world that could be considered intimidating, flowers were the last thing simon would put on that list; but the brightly coloured flora seemed to have a paralysing effect on him as he stands in the tiny flower shop.

with a quiet, defeated groan to himself, he dials johnny's number and presses his phone to his ear.

"what flowers am i supposed to buy?" he blurts no sooner than soap picks up, not even bothering to greet him in his haste.

"hello to you too?" johnny mumbles, his confusion evident. a moment passes before he registers what simon asked, "oh! wait," he laughs, his voice getting further away as he lowers his phone to call out, "gaz, get out here! lt.'s buyin' sting flowers!"

simon considers hanging up then and there, but he's severely out of his depth and unfortunately, soap and gaz are his only hope.

"oh i see, he needs an expert opinion, does he?" kyle's teasing gets louder as he approaches soap, and he can hear the smile in both the sergeants' voices.

really, simon should've known they wouldn't let him off easy.

"christ alive…" he keeps his voice as low as possible, pinching the bridge of his nose in the corner of the small shop. "just help me, you pillock." the cashier has been staring at him since he walked in, and honestly, he doesn't blame them; a giant man in a mask isn't exactly the regular clientele for a florist.

"uh, probably their favourite?" soap suggests, the sound of gaz's muffled chuckling just about audible in the background.

"they don't have 'em." simon replies, his eyes darting over the vibrant display one last time in the hopes that the answer would somehow appear.

"nah, you want roses, mate." gaz interjects, and he hears soap make an agreeing noise.

simon hums. "aren't they too… cliché?" he asks, stepping over to the large display of rose bouquets. it's the classic choice, he's aware of that much, but whether or not you'd prefer something more unique was weighing on his mind. this was something he never expected to have to worry about.

"no! they're romantic," gaz insists, his amusement still very evident in his voice, "trust me mate, sting'll love them."

simon contemplates his point for a moment, staring at the deep red petals and trying to imagine the look on your face if he gave them to you. you'd been happy with a handful of squashed flowers he'd stolen from the flowerbeds on base, so he doubted you'd turn your nose up at them. it doesn't take him long to make a decision.

"alright, cheers." he mutters, grabbing a lively looking bouquet of a dozen from the display and making his way over to the cashier – who was quickly trying to pretend they hadn't been staring.

"you'll need to give us a debrief–" soap begins, but he's cut off by simon hanging up and shoving his phone back in his pocket. he gets the feeling he won't be hearing the end of this for quite some time.

✹✹✹

it's only when he's standing outside the door to your room that the nerves finally start to set in. he can't help but feel like an idiot, fidgeting on the spot about to knock on your door like a lovestruck teenager, almost crushing the stems of the roses with his iron grip.

he knocks twice, before he has the chance to change his mind and back out. not even a second later, you're pulling the door open and regarding him with that warm look that has his palms sweating.

you're wearing casual clothes, and so is he, as per the agreement you made to keep this 'date' simple. it doesn't matter what you're wearing though; he's seen you covered head to toe in blood, sweat, mud, and whatever else, and you still manage to be utterly breathtaking in every way.

with a nervous cough, simon holds out the rose bouquet to you, hoping you don't notice the way his hands are shaking.

"wha…" you blink in surprise at the flowers, taking them from him and admiring them with a tiny smile. "you bought these, right? didn't just rip 'em out of someone's garden?" you raise a teasing eyebrow at him, your smile turning more playful.

"yes, i bought them." he grumbles lightheartedly, a smile of his own forming under his balaclava. the way you effortlessly diffuse the tension has his anxieties melting away.

"thank you." you breathe, softly caressing the vermillion petals. "they're lovely, i love them."

simon let's out a quiet sigh of relief at your affirmation. "good; cost me a tenner, they did."

the laugh you let out is like music to his ears. "well, i'm sorry to bankrupt you." you grin, turning back into your room and carefully putting the bouquet in the vase on the mantle. after making sure the arrangement looks nice, you come to stand in front of him again.

simon's not sure how to continue, the nerves from earlier resurfacing as the conversation fades. the way you're watching him expectantly, he feels the urge to take you by the hand – and as if you read his his mind, you hold it out for him. he places his hand in yours, squeezing gently and leading you the short distance to the kitchen.

he'd set the table earlier, having found an only slightly discoloured tablecloth buried in the back of the cupboards. it's a little sad, but it was the best he could come up with.

"wow," you tease, the same playful smile as before on your lips as you meet his eyes, "so fancy."

he snorts, ushering you over to your chair and pulling out for you. "only the best for your majesty." he preens at your happiness when you laugh again, glad for the mask covering what he's sure is an obvious blush.

he occupies himself by grabbing the two plates he'd finished preparing a minute ago, just before he'd met you at your door.

"i made spag bol." simon mutters as he sets them down on the table. he keeps an eye on your expression as he takes his seat opposite you, anticipation of whatever response you may have.

"fine by me," you say, an easy smile lifting your features. "it's almost the perfect candlelit dinner, all we're missing is the candle."

simon blinks. "you don't like candles." he replies, a hint of confusion in his gaze when he meets your eye.

"no," you smile fondly, looking down at your plate. "i don't."

a comfortable silence falls over the room as you both start to eat. the warmth and normality of it all makes simon’s heart swell with affection. he's happy, content, being here with you, even doing something as monotonous as eating dinner. you make it worth enjoying.

"how is it?" he asks once you've both finished, once again waiting apprehensively for your reaction.

"it's great," you give him a lopsided smile, resting your chin on your hand as you look at him. "thanks for cooking."

simon quirks an eyebrow at you. "you don't have to lie." he mutters, feeling the tips of his ears burn under your intense gaze.

"okay, well, don't quit your day job." you chuckle, standing up and making your way over to the sink with your plate in your hands.

he huffs a small laugh, and joins you at the sink with his own plate. "you're crushin' my dreams here."

"sorry, chef." you grin and gesture to the washing up in the sink. "you wash, i'll dry?"

"if your majesty insists."

you turn on the radio for some quiet background noise, and the two of you start cleaning up in tandem. it's nice, how you can work together so seamlessly with no need for words. he's struck again by the thought that if he were alone this would be a chore, but with you beside him, he finds such a tedious job surprisingly pleasant.

simon hands the last dish to you, and as you take it your fingers brush against his hand. the way he flinches away from your touch is unconscious, and when he looks over to you he expects you to pity him, or be offended by his action – but your face holds neither of those things.

you're just drying the dish he handed you, the same content expression on your face that had been there all night, as if you didn't even notice.

"sorry." he mumbles, his gaze falling from your face to your hands as you work.

simon loves you. he shouldn't be afraid of your touch. he wants to touch you, and for you to touch him. he doesn't know why he reacted like that.

"don't be." you utter, soft and compassionate, and his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest. for the third time that night, he's hit full force with how wonderful you are.

there's no judgement, no probing questions, nothing. you understood him, even though you had no idea why he acts this way.

you turn away, your back to him as you store the dishes in the cabinets. you hadn't been looking at him before, but now he was sure you couldn't see him, he feels his throat constrict with the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.

simon takes your free hand and you pause, still facing away as you wait for his next move.

he takes a small step closer, minimising the space between you, and rests his forehead against the back of your head. with his eyes screwed shut, he takes a deep breath and inhales the familiar scent of you. his grip on your hand tightens slightly.

you lean back into him, a quiet sigh escaping you as you squeeze his hand in return. neither of you say a word, but you don't have to. he feels how you love him in the way you never expect more from him than he can give.

it's the most peace he's felt in years.

taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @sunshiinegaz , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness ,

@madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling , @stateofcatatonia , @rivalriotrenegade , @yoichiislovie , @nirvanaaaonly , @ameliaamareeee , @batmanunicorns523 , @sapientiia , @thesecretwriter , @susanmukami , @ryze1113 , @stars-andfreckles , @spya1 , @tunaa-luvchrm , @tzutology

There's over 9 million users on Tumblr now. Reblog if you're one of the few who's never EVER left anon hate in somebody's ask box.

Coney Island- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Based on a request:

Helloo, it's my first ask here but i saw something on tiktok about having a specific type of a guy that's; closed off, stoic and stuff but he has a soft spot for a specific person and reader thinking its them but no. I just need angst😭 honestly. That's all thank you!!

F!Reader, death of character(s), angst, platonic!relationship, no happy ending --

Months before your death, that is when he broke your heart. He was so cold and rude to most people on base but there was one person who could touch Simon and talk past Ghost. The men of the task force were on his best side, but she was on the special side of his life. You always thought it was you, the one who could be his entire life only to find out you weren't even on the list.

He never spoke much of his life to you, you only heard bits from the other men but as any fool does you believed it was for him and you to have some sort of good place in this Earth. For months he gave you flickers of hope and you sure believed they were real. Each time you thought you were passing those high walls of his, there seemed to be a new wall you never heard of. A labyrinth with no way out and the way in has been closed off by spikes. His cruel words of that day were such spikes.

"Lieutenant-" you paused as you had seen him and the girl sitting on the bench, how he was so open to her. All his emotions were out for her to see and hear. He painted the sky with his hurt and past but it was for her eyes only, never to be yours. All the questions you asked, only to be spoken to her, never to you. You'd jump in front of a bullet, grenade or anything to protect his past and mind and he'd discard it. His insecurities, fears and all those years of trauma, laid for her and her only.

It was clear then that it was a team of two, him and her. You began to question it all, the nights he asked about your life, telling you...no, pleading you to tell him, that it was the only way for him to open up to you. The nights you cried to him, all your weapons laid for him to point them and shoot you in the back. Losing your mind over minor mistakes and still he held her close, never you.

If I pushed you to the edge But you were too polite to leave me?

The day he lost you, what a nightmare was that day. The smoke in the streets, the passing bullets, one for your chest and the invisible one for his heart. Despite the hurt he brought upon you, you never left. The reason even to this day makes his head ponder. What is he now? Why is he alive and not you? The blood that leaked from your body, the way his hands were painted with crimson, how he lost you and gained a new shade to paint the skies for her.

Will you forgive my soul When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

Every time he could, there he was. Talking about his sorrows to you now underground. The flowers that he replaced every time he was there, always fresh for the garden he forgot to make while you were alive. The first question he would ask you in the afterlife or in the next life is, "Can you forgive me?" and would you? Can you be so delicate with his dying heart?

Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey?

Back at the place where he knew he lost you, you were alive then but that morning he lost his friend. "R/N, listen to me, it's not that I don't trust you-" you shake your head and chuckle. "No? Then what is it, lieutenant? Hate? shame? I told you about all of me and now here you are. I am me, I can't be someone else, all of me has been shown to you! And you can't trust me? This is rubbish, sir! I can't hide anything from you, here I am...what more can't you see!" That is all you wanted, just a little piece of him because he took all of you.

Coney Island, the place where he saw your first death.

And when I got into the accident The sight that flashed before me was your face But when I walked up to the podium I think that I forgot to say your name

Eighteen months after your death, that's when he got into the worst gunfight of his career. Everyone was injured that time, Soap with a bullet in his leg, Gaz with a severe concussion, Price laid on the floor as blood dripped down from his shoulder and there he was, alone and behind a wall, tears ran down his face. The first time he was scared in a long time was that night. Bullet on his arm, cut by his torso and the image he had of you by his chest dripped with his blood.

The speech he gave at your funeral, how in his many years of service he had never been so afraid to speak. The room filled with friends and family, all looked at him. He felt as if they all knew the pain he caused your heart, what if they did? GODDAMNIT WHY NOW!

"The funniest person I had by my side was her, stupid jokes I learned from her now said to others." The speech went on for 10 minutes because he had more to say than the five sentences to say. And in each sentence, none of them had your name. He was afraid to even say it for he had no right to ever say your name not after he was the one with the knife on Coney Island.

But I think that I forgot to say your name Over and over

As he felt his life near the end, the last thing he saw was your face, fingers caressing the photograph.

"R/N," was his last breath.

Saying “this niche, properly tagged, warned, and rated piece of fiction could theoretically hurt someone” is not a good argument. This properly labeled cookie with the allergen information at the bottom that contains gluten could theoretically harm me very badly, but only if I consume it. Tags are like nutrition labels, and warnings are like allergy information. If you know you have an allergy to something, the logic is to stay away from it. It is the same with fiction. I’m not running through stores yelling at people to take all the products with gluten off the shelves just because it could hurt me. Instead I ignore it and go to the gluten free section and find cookies that are right for me. And if running through a grocery store yelling sounds ridiculous, that’s because it is. Stop doing the same with fiction.

All i see is colors

Let’s play a game!!

When you see this, reblog with a supernatural quote (NO REPEATS)

I’ll start:

I lost my shoe

Dear friends of Tumblr,

Today at my school we had an assembly about internet predators and when I had said that most of my true friends are over the internet and they gave me a lecture about how “I don’t know who I’m talking to” blah blah. So please, if you aren’t a predator in any way, please reblog so i can prove a point.

Need me a squad like this