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ragingbookdragon · 2 months

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Whoever decided to ring her doorbell in the middle of a midnight thunderstorm was either a serial killer or a poor soul stuck out in the rain. Either way, she still felt sorry enough for whatever poor bastard was stuck outside and decided to open the door, but her expression dropped into annoyance when she saw the man leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he murmurs, gazing at her. “Long time no see.” She starts to close the door and he sticks his foot in it. “Wait, please, don’t close me out.”

“Like you did to me,” she retorts, opening the door. “What do you want, Simon?”

He glances back towards the rainy street and hefts his rucksack higher on his shoulder. “To stay the night.”

“Seriously?”

“Please?” He begs and she pauses—Simon Riley wasn’t a man who begged often.

She gazes at him a moment longer before sighing and opening the door. “Clothes and shoes off at the door. Mask too. You’re soaking wet.”

“What gave you that ‘int? The rainstorm?”

Turning, she shoots him a glare. “I’m letting you stay the night despite you breaking my heart. I’d be a little less sarcastic.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, starting to strip his clothes as he shuts the door behind him. He hands her his clothes, standing in his boxers, then cups the front of himself and asks. “You wouldn’t happen to have any of my clothes shoved in the back of your closet…would you?”

“Bottom drawer in the chest of drawers.”

“You kept my clothes? Aw, you still car—” he falls silent when she glares at him. “Going now.”

As she disappears into the laundry room, she calls out, “What did you do, walk here from the base? You know Birmingham has cabbies, right?”

“I’m not wasting money to drive twenty minutes when I can walk within an hour.”

“You know you’ll get sick from this.”

“Wive’s tale. Can’t get sick from the rain.”

“Smart-ass,” she retorts, shoving his clothes in the dryer.

He comes around the corner, leaning against the doorway with a hand towel thrown over his shoulder, short blonde hair sticking up in all directions, evident he’d dried off with it.

“That is a decorative towel, not for use.” She glares at him. “You know that too.”

“You moved the other towels.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” she mutters, then looks at him, eyes trailing down to where the sweatpants hung low on his hips. “Put a fucking shirt on, floozy.”

“I couldn’t find one,” he replies with a small smirk. “You must’ve used ‘em for fuel for the fireplace.”

She stands up straight and walks up to him. “Why are you here, Simon?” Her voice is quiet, calm, waiting.

He looks down at his feet, shifts his weight and murmurs, “Missed you.”

“You left me.”

“I know.”

“You start going to therapy yet?” She asks and he purses his lips.

“SAS doesn’t exactly offer therapy, y’know that, right? Not exactly ‘ow we operate.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You know I asked that friend of yours, what was his name? Soap? He said that the SAS offers routine psychiatric care and therapy. He also happened to mention you conveniently manage to get out of it every single time.”

Simon lets out a grunt and pinches his brow. “Soap can’t mind ‘is own fuckin’ business.”

“He’s your friend. And he was also drunk.” She waves a hand. “Regardless, you haven’t done the one thing I told you that you would have to do if you wanted to come back—no, when you came crawling back.”

“I don’t need therapy. I just want a second chance.” He shifts to his full height, looks at her with a pleading look. “Things were good between us, love. You know they were.”

“Sure, when you weren’t shutting down when you were hurting emotionally or running off to God knows where when you had a mission and didn’t leave me a notice.”

Simon sighs. “I was protectin’ you. I didn’t wanna drag you into all the shit I ‘ave to deal with on a daily. I didn’t want you to have to put up with…all of…”

She gives him a hard look. “Simon Riley, what part of me gave you the notion that I ever need to be protected or sheltered from what you do?”

He swallows thickly and gazes into her eyes. “Love…you’re too pure for me. What I do…you don’t need to know the horrors I’ve committed. You’re…you’re too beautiful for such things.”

“You mean how you kill people with no emotion? How you’ve taken lives with your bare hands? How you shove so much of yourself down into the black hole until there’s no humanity left but ‘Ghost’, the hollow killer?”

Simon stares at her, throat bobbing as he replies, “I can’t drag you to hell with me, it would kill me, love. What if—”

“Do you know the moment I knew I was in love with you?” She interrupts and he falls silent. “I was sick that one day a year ago, bad sick. And you told me not to go into work, but I didn’t listen and when I came home early, I could barely walk straight.” She places a hand on her hip. “And you helped me into the bathroom. Ran a bath in the dark, lit a few candles and you bathed me. Washed my hair. Took care of me. You were so gentle and so loving. Like a priest tasked with cleaning his alter, you cleansed me and made me feel safe.”

He shifts uncomfortably but his body language is anything but repulsed; it’s soft. “You started cryin’ when I was washin’ your hair. Thought I got soap in your eyes. But you said you just felt so loved.” He smiles then. “You were like a kitten really. Could barely lift your head. So tired and weak.”

“Mhm. And then you tucked me into bed and crawled beneath the covers with me. Laid up beside me, never once acted sexual. Just…caring.” She looks at him. “Do you remember what I said to you before I went to sleep?”

“No,” he mutters but he looks up at the ceiling and she knows he’s lying, it’s his tell-tale sign.

She gives him the benefit of the doubt and closes the distance between them, lays her hands on his chest, and says, “I said, ‘This is the real man beneath all that coldness. The real Simon. The one I knew I loved more than anything. No matter what.’”

Simon shudders beneath her touch, feels weak in his knees like he might drop to his and worship at her feet, beg for forgiveness like a sinner in confession. His chest aches, tightening as the words tear violently at his chest, a reminder that he left one of the only good things to ever come into his life, all because he was too afraid to let the walls come down, too afraid to be vulnerable, too afraid to risk being hurt—because if she hurt him, he’d never come back from it. In the end, he’d felt like a fool trying to protect a damsel who never needed saving in the first place; and he was left with the realization that she’d been protecting him the entire time.

“I know what you do, Simon. I know it’s hard, even if you don’t think it is. I know that no matter how you push your humanity down into that hole that it’s still there. I know killing someone takes something from you every time but, Simon, I’m not your enemy. I love you.” Her eyes are calm, but her voice is firm. “And I will not stand on the outside of the lines under some guise of protection. You either be upfront and honest with me about everything or you leave, and you don’t come back.”

Simon knows she’s asking him to choose now, and he feels that creeping anxiety rise in his throat like bile until he manages, “Can…can we talk about everything in the morning?”

She sighs and pulls her hands away. “Yeah, I guess so. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet. You know where the couch is.”

“You’re not going to let me sleep in the bed?” He sounds incredibly offended.

“Couch, Riley.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but he can’t help but smile when she sets the bedding out on the couch for him. “Goodnight, love,” he murmurs as she passes, and her shoulders tense and she waves a hand.

“Goodnight, Simon.”

He sits on the couch for a few moments, watches the rain splatter against the window, the clock ticking on the wall, before he pulls out his phone and simply types, “I love you,” and sends it.

It’s quiet for a solid ten seconds before he hears, “You absolute bastard!” From the bedroom followed by, “Get in here!”

Simon gives a victory dance as he clears his throat and attempts to look innocent as he steps into her bedroom; she glowers and points to the other side. “You’re on that side.”

“You can make me,” he retorts and crawls into the middle of the bed, groaning when all the bones in his body snap and pop.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her book, but after a moment, she shifts against the headboard, getting comfortable again. Simon lifts his head, watches her, then he moves and lays his head in her lap, his arms wrapped around her hips under the pillows behind her. Her eyes rise to the wall in front of her and she stares unamusedly at it before she switches the book into her other hand and rests her right hand at the back of his neck, gently thumbing the juncture of his spine and skull. He groans beneath her touch, shifts himself so that she has control over moving him, body going slack when she scratches her nails into his scalp.

“You’re like a cat,” she mutters, feeling his lips turn up against her thigh.

“Meow,” he mimics, and she snorts, feeling him move until his head is pressed into her stomach, face turned so she can see the right profile.

He watches until she puts the book down on her nightstand and turns into him; they gaze at each other, and his eyes gently shut when she cups his face, thumbs brushing over his features.

“You know I’m giving you another chance, don’t you?”

Simon swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “…yeah.”

“But we’ve gotta change. Or else we’ll end up back where we were before we broke up.”

“I know.” He opens his eyes and looks at her. “I’ve missed you, love.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she murmurs, bending down to press her lips to his forehead. “Doesn’t feel the same without you haunting my apartment.”

His lips turn up in a smile as she pulls back and lays on the pillows; Simon rises and crawls up her body, his nose brushing hers as he whispers, “I’ll do better for you. I’ll change. I swear it.”

“Yeah?”

His gaze turns solemn in a way she’s never seen before as he replies, “On their grave, I will.”

She smiles softly at him, pulls him down so his face is tucked in her neck, and replies, “Get some sleep.”

“I love you,” he mutters against her warm skin, arms tucked safely around her, body weight comfortably on her. “I love you more than the world.”

“I love you,” she says back, reaching up to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.

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kittykattropicanna · 4 months

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Going absolutely feral over Mechanic!Simon and how you met him :(( I just want him so badddd

TW: pervy!Simon, smut, creampie, possessive!Simon, dirty talk (praise), he just wants you so bad girl, swearing, kinda naive!reader, brief mention of spanking

Mechanic!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

Just imagine you’re driving through a shitty little town somewhere in England, you don’t even know where you are at this point.

Your ex just kicked you out of your shared apartment in the middle of the night and you have nowhere else to go, your only option is to drive in your little shit box of a car as far away from him as possible.

Of course its poring rain and of course your car breaks down in the middle of the road surrounded by scary looking government houses and a very obviously high homeless guy screaming and yelling all sorts of profanities :(

With shaky hands you quickly look up every mechanic in town on your phone, its almost dead and none of them answer :( of course they wouldn’t! Its the middle of the night!

You don’t have insurance either! Everything is going wrong, you’re so lost and scared :(

You start to panic when there’s only one number left, with a shaky breath you call it and just as you think you're out of luck, a deep cranky voice answers begrudgingly obviously pissed that someone dared to call him at this hour.

Tomorrow is his only day off for the week >:(

Simons personal number was attached to the shop after Price promoted him to manager, now he has all sorts of dumb fucks calling him all times of the day and he hates it!!

But how could he say no? A poor girl called him in tears gasping for air between sobs and absolutely hysterical :(((( His not an ethical guy and a young girl like you that knows absolutely nothing about cars :( imagine all the extra money he could charge you? You wouldn’t question it either! Oh how could he say no to such a silly girl…

After what feels like hours a very tall, bulky, thick man with a scary balaclava knocks on your driver seat window and you scream so loud!!! His so scary and big! And his eyes! They’re are so angry :(((( he must be so angry at you for calling him :( you feel so bad :(

After he loads your car onto the tow truck he insists on driving you home

“Ohh come on sweetheart, would hate to see a pretty baby like you stuck in the rain, let me take you home darlin’”

His so pervy too! Subtly touching your arse and looking at your hard nipples that poke through you soaked shirt :(

He can’t help it! You can’t blame him! You’re not wearing a bra!

And with a beautiful face like yours and a body like that, what did you expect him to do? Not eye fuck you? Don’t be ridiculous.

You tell him that you have nowhere to go because your shitty ex threw you out and Si insisted you stay with him!!

“Oh pet, you poor poor girl, you want to get a room at a motel? No. Nooo. That’s no place for a doll like you, come stay with me darlin’, come on sweets, I’ll sleep on the couch, promise yeah?��

“I’m just tryna’ keep ya safe honey, its not nice around these parts, okay? hate for somthin’ to happen to ya”

And you know his right :( he came all this way in the middle of the night, left his comfy bed in the pouring rain just to help you, his from around these parts and he knows best!

His voice is so deep and husky, you just know a man like him could keep you safe!

You jump in the shops tow truck and he insist you take off your soaking shirt and put on his company jacket.

Its covered in oil and dirt, smells like cigarettes and is wayyyy to big for you. “Riley” is printed onto the left breast pocket with a large logo with the words “Price’s Motor Repairs” on the back.

Its so disgusting and smells musky but something about it makes your pussy clench!!! His so manly, so dominant, how could you not get turned on by him!!! You could feel his eyes roam your breasts as you sit in his jacket, chest completely bare underneath, hard nipples rubbing against the fabric :(((

Once you reach the shop, he drops your car off then shows you around.

He wants to impress you sooooo bad, showing you all sorts of tools and telling you what he uses them for, how he uses them to fix things. The whole time his talking all you could look at is his big muscly arms as he purposely flexes them for you.

Never in his life has he seen such a gorgeous, gorgeous girl and all he wants to do is bend you over his modified truck and fuck you so hard you’re creaming on his cock :(

And that’s exactly what he does! Before driving you back to his, he has you bent over, back arched and his callused hand wrapped around your hair as he ruts into you while you're still in his company jacket :((((

Your poor pussy hasn’t taken such a big girthy cock before, his wide hips connecting with your arse and slamming your much smaller body into the hood of his car :3

Thrusts so deep his car shakes from the force :)

As you moan and babble completely cock drunk you can hear him snickering and grunting behind you, whispering dirty words in your ear

Praising you between grunts….

“Look at you love, fuck, look at that perfect fuckin’ pussy, taking my cock so well, such a good girl, aren’t ya?” As he pounds into you so deep the tip of his leaking cock touches your cervix. A small squeal exiting your lips as he holds you there for a second, letting you feel for the first time what a real deep pounding feels like :)

“Never been fucked this good have ya baby? Never cum his hard before” he’d snicker has you cum for the third time, legs shaking and mascara running not from the rain this time, but from the tears of pure pleasure his so kindly giving you :(

And of course his coming inside of you! His loads are so big as well, when he finally lets himself cum he absolutely floods your pussy :)))

Your moans bounce around the tin walls of the shop, the sound of him slapping your arse echoing at the same time

You can feel the hot ropes shoot up inside of you as he continues to slowly thrust making sure none of it goes to waste.

He tries to suppress his moan, disguising them as grunts but a few slip past his lips :(

He doesn't pull out but that doesn’t stop his cum from leaking out of your cunt and down you beautiful thighs,

“Look at tha’ baby, fuckin’ hell, you did so good for me my gorgeous girl, so fuckin’ good”

He just met you but his already so, so possessive. :)

He carries you to his truck because your legs feel like jelly :( his so gentle with you too, whispering in your ear how good you did for him and how you're such an obedient girl, his obedient girl.

You fall sleep in his truck, curled up in the passenger seat, his company jacket still wrapped around your bare chest.

You’ve had such a big night and the sound of the soft radio and drizzle of rain lulls you to sleep.

You wake up in Si’s arms as his gently placing you into his bed.

“You’re alrigh’ darlin’, jus’ close ya eyes for me, ill be here”

Its safe to say he didn’t take the couch that night :3

Request are open for Mechanic!Simon, I would love to hear your thoughts so feel free send them through and add to the AU. im just obsessed w/ himmmm

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping - fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

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ghostssweetgirl · 1 year

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Hello, I hope you are well. 141 men+Konig and Roach.Alex. How do they react when they accidentally see female reader in the city for the first time? And just like that. The reader is shopping at a grocery store. And men do not know her. because they never saw the reader's face. but the reader recognizes them because she has seen their faces before and the reader says. What's up? (name) I'll send you a photo of the reader's gaze. so the reader works on the same team as them but right now it's a free day

Have a nice day :)

Hey there! I really like this request <3

TF141 + König + Roach + Alex Reacting to Seeing the Reader's Face (in public)

warnings: cursing, other than that, none. they think you're pretty 😍

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Simon happened to be shopping in your town. No, he didn't do it on purpose. It was just on his way home.

You were shopping as well. You lived in a big city, so it wasn't unusual for you to be unmasked when doing your business. No one here knew you. You were on the pet food aisle, glancing over the ingredients of a specific brand until you suddenly felt a familiar presence walking by along the outside of the aisle. You look to your side and... spot Ghost.

Why was he here? Not like, why was he shopping, but why would he come to your city? It was too many people for his liking.

You watch him walk by, he doesn't give you a second glance as he goes about his business.

You set the bag of food down as you abandon your cart, walking fast to catch up to him. "Ghost!"

He heard a familiar voice call behind him, but as he turned around, he didn't know who he was looking at and how they knew his callsign. "What's up?" you asked, tilting your head at him. He stopped in his tracks, looking you up and down. "Bloody hell are you?"

You nervously laughed. "Y/N...?"

He was in disbelief. Wow, you were quite beautiful. He didn't think you'd be ugly, but my goodness, he was swept off his feet. "Fuckin' hell, kid," he rasped, chuckling nervously, you could tell.

"Sorry, I forgot you've never seen my face."

"Forgot to warn me you were quite stunning, too, darlin'."

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish

He heard about this big grocery store from a friend, deciding to check it out. It was also the one you were at, trying to find some new clothes.

In your own little world, you weren't paying attention to the fact you were absent-mindedly taking over the aisle as you were folding a shirt back up.

"Excuse me," a voice called from behind you.

"Sorry," you muttered, moving out of the way. The man gave you a polite smile, and as you made eye contact, your pupils dilated, recognizing your teammate, Soap. "What's up?" you asked.

"Oh, jus' shoppin', nothin' much." You looked into his cart, curious. Some beer, socks, small food items. Also hygiene products. He watched you nose into what he's buying, wondering who the hell this random (pretty) lady is.

You stifle a laugh, looking at the soap in his cart. "Soap." He shook his head, softly chuckling. "Wha's so funny about that?"

You teased him. "Soap! For Soap... Come on, do you not get it?"

For a minute, he recognized the voice but couldn't put two and two together. Wondered if you were who he thought you were.

After awkward staring, you throw your arms up playfully. "Soap! You must not... recognize me...?" "Y/N...?" you continued.

He just figured it out, the way you emphasized his name. "Y/N... Shite, yer... beautiful," he muttered. "Didn't think I'd ever see your face, lass."

Captain 'John' Price

He was just leaving, checking out with his cart full of his selected items. Damn this long line, he'd be here a while.

You were walking in with an empty cart, eyes glued to the front of you. Wanting to get in, and get out. You take notice of the long line. Sighing in annoyance, you go about your business.

You make your way up to the front, expecting the line to have made progress. Nope, still long. Some person had 3 full carts, and was giving one of the cashiers a hard time. Not to mention it was one of the rush hours of business. You look around to see a bunch of grumpy, tired faces. It was all just regular people, until you saw your captain. You smiled, hesitant to say hi to him, not wanting to be a bother.

"Hey, Captain Price!" you sang. He fixed his gaze onto you precisely, questionably. "What's up?"

He met you halfway in between the queues. "How in the bloody hell do you know who I am?" his voice was low.

"Because... I'm in the task force, silly," you laughed. "Y/N."

"Oh," he said plainly, his body visibly relieved. "Well, kid. Near freaked me out, some pretty lady knowin' my rank."

"Sorry," you blushed. "I'll leave you be, then? See you at work."

"Nice to see ya, y/n," his bright blue eyes beamed as they crinkled from his wide smile.

You were nearly finished up shopping, when you walked next to Gaz.

You didn't notice him at first, but when you did, he smiled at you with a polite nod as if you were a stranger.

You smiled back. "What's up, Garrick?"

He squinted his eyes at you, wondering how he knew you.

"I'm sorry, remind me of who you are?"

"Y/N, silly," you quipped.

"Oh," he sighed, looking over the features of your face. "Nice seein' you without the mask."

You almost blush, reaching up to soothe your unmasked face. "Thanks. Definitely didn't expect to see you... here."

"It was just on my way."

"Yeah, well, I hope you're enjoying your time off," you smiled.

"You, too, y/n," he smiled back, walking off but making sure to get one last look at you before you walked off, memorizing your face.

König

It's been such a long day already, and here you were stuck at a busy grocery store in your city. You usually stopped by here every so often, but didn't think the store would be busy when you came here today.

You were pretty much just looking at useless stuff at this point, to pass time by as the queues were not moving. You sigh as you grew tired of looking at this nonsense. Seeing some queues move, you finally hopped in one. You were in a hurry, and that was obvious, but so was someone else.

You almost bumped carts with this man, and before you go to apologize, you hear his thick German accent being the first one to apologize profusely. "I... am so sorry! You go ahead, ma'am," he muttered.

"König! I am so sorry!" you giggled. "I was in a hurry, I didn't see you there! What's up?" He stuttered, hands nearly shaking at you knowing his name. "I... was just shopping here."

"Are... you okay?"

"Ja... yes, I just... sorry, I don't think I know you..."

"Y/N! I don't have my mask on..." you rubbed your cheek. "Sorry to confuse you."

He was taken aback by how beautiful you were. He was already an anxious man, finally being able to put a voice to a very pretty face felt quite nice, but finding out just how gorgeous you were was making his heart slam against his ribcage.

"I-sorry," you could hear his nervousness, it was admittedly very cute. "You are very pretty, Maus."

Roach

You had gone to the store to get some alcohol, it was one of your days off and you wanted to enjoy yourself.

You went to the aisle, and started browsing.

You grabbed a few bottles of wine, and an extra bottle of liquor for another day and started walking out of the aisle to leave.

Until someone came around the corner.

You smiled as you spotted your teammate, Roach.

"Roach! Hey, what's up?"

He made eye contact with you, and you could tell he was confused.

"Sorry, do I know you?"

"It's Y/N! Sorry, don't have my mask on," you apologized, blushing.

"Oh. I was wondering how some beautiful woman knew me," he laughed. "It's nice to see you."

"Thanks, Roach," you smirked. You bid your goodbyes as you walked off, not seeing him look back at you once more.

You were stumped on a product, deciding if you should buy it. You started looking around for products that seemed popular, and went with the correct brand.

You were on your way to the front, when you spotted someone you knew. Alex. He was either in a hurry, or just wanted to get to where he was going, but you followed him.

You about lost him, but finally caught up.

"Alex! Hey!"

He looked around at a few people before he looked at you.

"What's up?" you smiled at him.

He stammered his words. "Hi. Who're you? How do I know you?"

You laughed as you playfully rolled your eyes. "Y/N."

"Damn, nice to see your face, lil lady," he chuckled, eyes wide at your beauty.

"Aw, thanks," you replied. "Enjoying your time off?"

"You know it." You both did some small talk before you had to make your way out. You waved goodbye at him, and he returned it with a polite smile, watching you as you walked away.

"Damn, she's beautiful," he whispered under his breath.

A/N - Hope this was good! I've never written for Roach or Alex, so I don't know if I wrote them out well, but thank you for this request and sorry it took a while to get finished! <3

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ghostlychief · 9 months

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Positions

MW2 Ghost x Reader

A mini masterlist of different oneshot drabbles of all the positions Ghost puts you in.

THIS IS SO RANDOM but i decided to make this a little series, if you will.

Warnings: general warning about smut; smut will range drabble to drabble; MINORS DNI (i’m watching all of u);

I’ll put out a blanket statement that: the nsfw stuff I write usually doesn’t have any choking, anyone being overly rough, using the term “slut,” or anything similar, and no aggressive behavior. if for some reason the fics have any sort of roughness or something a little more intense, that will be explicitly stated.

men should be respectful and kind to you, as well as treat you with a lot of care during intimate moments, and I want my writing to reflect that.

ENJOY🫶🏻🖤

–

Ghost Rider; oneshot; Ghost x fem!reader literally just a blurb/drabble; smut; MINORS DNI; 400+

riding ghost

back-archer; oneshot; ghost x reader (could be read as female or male)

It’s not often when you find yourself in this position, but when you do, you become a mess

pov; ghost x fem!reader

ghost has you in missionary, and you think you might be loosing your mind

mirror, mirror; ghost x fem!reader; smut; MINORS DNI

reverse cowgirl with ghost, but with an added bonus

more to come…<3

#reposted #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #mw2 cod ghost x reader #mw2 ghost smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley x you #Simon ghost Riley smut #Simon ghost riley imagines

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saint-johnny · 1 year

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love language , ghost

note, this is my first piece in this world. i write hockey and some other stuff on a different account (@ilyasorokinn if you want to check it out), but this is the first piece i've written for ghost and cod in general, so please be kind. anyways, let me know if you'd want to see this for any other guy, and i'm so down :) another note, a huge shoutout to @nsharks for everything she does. this fic and acc wouldn't exist if i hadn't read your stuff, so you're so slay. pair, simon "ghost" riley x reader summary, simon checks out a book at the library about the five different love languages. warnings, soft simon <3 word count: 2327 words

(gif not mine)

Out of curiosity, Simon checked out a book at the library. It was about the 5 different love languages. He was expecting it to be a bore but was pleasantly surprised when he didn't want to claw his eyes out.

He was trying his best with you, he really was, but he wanted to show you how much he cared, and this book was going to help him show how much he cared about you.

i. acts of service - "Do chores together or make them breakfast in bed. Go out of your way to help alleviate their daily workload."

Saturdays were dedicated to laundry. Somehow it piled up, and you were often confused as to how. You let out a sigh as you started yet another load of laundry.

"I think we need to clean out our closet again."

"You say that every week." Simon pointed out, a hint of a smile on his face.

"And every week I mean it. I mean, how do we have so many clothes. I feel like I'm drowning in clothes and laundry detergent." You flopped back onto the bed, the same one Simon had just made.

"I'll do the next load." He volunteered.

"Will you really?" You peeked an eye open at him.

"Yeah." He nodded. He hated laundry almost as much as you did, if not more.

"You are a saint, Simon Riley." You leaned over and placed a dramatic kiss on his cheek.

"I wouldn't say a saint." He muttered but you didn't hear.

You watched him from the chair in the corner of your room as he folded clothes, "So, what do you want for dinner? We can have leftovers or there's some frozen chicken nuggets, I know you like those."

You spotted something of a smile on his face, "I'll take care of it."

You looked up from your book, then looked down at Stanley, your dog, who was laying at your feet and looked just as surprised as you, "You're going to cook tonight?"

"Don't sound so surprised." He grumbled.

"All right, you take care of dinner then. One less thing for me to do." You shrugged happily.

After laundry, you watched from your spot at the kitchen island as Simon moved around the kitchen. He was grabbing different things from different cabinets and from the fridge.

It was almost foreign for him to be in the kitchen, not that he had ever not cooked, it was just you were cooking (or ordering) for him because he was tired from a long mission.

"You know what you're doing, right?" You joked. He hardly heard you as he meticulously measured out his spices. You decided to wait it out in the living room, and you grabbed your glass and made your way over to the couch.

He finished his dish and carried the plates over to you. He sat down and handed you your utensils before handing you your plate. He watched your face the entire time for your reaction as you chewed on his dish.

"So?" You looked up to see the nervous, almost panicked look, on his face, "What do you think?"

"Simon, it's delicious." You complimented without hesitation, "Really." You set the plate down and reached over and hugged him.

You felt his body deflate as he relaxed, "I'm glad."

"Well now that we know you can cook, looks like you'll be in the kitchen." You nudged him jokingly. Stanley propped his front legs onto the couch, his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out, "I think Stanley wants to try some too." You smiled.

ii. physical touch - "Hug, kiss, hold hands, show physical affection often. Make intimacy a thoughtful priority."

Simon had only been away for a week and a couple days, but you couldn't help but feel nervous. This was, by far, not the longest mission but any mission was still too long in your eyes.

You had just talked to him the night before, and he had vehemently reassured you that everything was okay and he was on track to get home sometime in the afternoon.

You were riffling through your closet trying to find something to wear. You knew he didn't care what you wore, but that didn't mean you didn't want to look good.

"What do you think Stanley?" You were trying on different outfits in front of the mirror and had no one to show these outfits to except the dog.

You turned away from the mirror to look back at Stanley who was laying in his bed, his head resting on his legs, "Too colorful?" He tilted his head to the side.

You sighed turning back to the mirror, "You're right. I'm overthinking it. Just go with something simple." You nodded, "You've done it again, Stan."

You piled yourself and Simon into the car and drove to the base where everyone was landing. You waited in the designated area where you and Simon agreed you would always wait for him when you could.

You sat on the floor with Stanley, giving him all the love because you knew the moment he saw Simon, he would abandon you and charge straight for his other parent.

And you were right to think that. The moment the door opened and Stanley spotted Simon, he was jumping up and ran over to greet him, "It's good to see you, too, Stanley." Simon greeted the dog, bending down to give his head a pet and a scratch.

He set his bags down before his eyes finally landed on you. He carefully moved past Stanley before making his way over to you. You stood up and wrapped your arms around him, savoring the feeling of having him home and in your arms.

"Did you miss me, too?" You asked.

"Of course, love." He muttered into your hair, pressing a kiss to it, "Soap doesn't hold a candle to you when it comes to hugs." He joked, cracking a smile when you laughed.

With him in your arms, it was almost liked time stopped. You didn't know how long you stayed in that position but you honestly didn't care, "You ready to go?" Simon broke the silence.

"Not yet." You murmured.

"All right, we'll stay here, like this." He hummed.

And so you did.

iii. gift giving - "Give thoughtful gifts and gestures. Small things matter in a big way. Express gratitude when receiving a gift."

You were ready to give up on work. Everything was starting to blur together and the caffeine you were drinking could only help for so long.

You glanced up at the clock and groaned when you realize you had a couple more hours to go, "She's right over here." Your co-worker stopped next to your desk.

Your brows furrowed together but your questions were quickly answered when Simon stepped out from behind her, "What're you doing here?" You asked, getting out of your chair and wrapping him in a quick hug.

"You forgot your lunch at home, so figured I would drop it off." He held up a bag, which you assumed your lunch was in.

"You didn't have to bring it. I would've just ordered something."

"Wanted to see you, too." He responded, producing a bouquet of flowers from behind his back, which you had somehow missed.

"They're beautiful." You gushed, taking the bouquet in your arms, "Thank you."

"And I thought I could have lunch with you." He suggested, almost nervous.

"I don't have lunch for another 20 minutes."

"I can wait." He stated.

"All right, you can sit there." You pointed to a chair somewhere in the office. He sat there for 20 minutes and once those 20 minutes were up, he got up from the chair and walked over to your desk.

"Lunch time." He announced, pulling up a chair next to you and sitting down, giving you no choice but to stop working and give him all your attention.

He began unpacking the bag, and it was then you realized he was pulling out stuff you hadn't prepared the night before to bring. He had prepared food for you and brought it.

"Si, did you make this?"

He shrugged, "Figured if I was gonna bring you lunch, might as well be good." You made a face, "Not to say your sandwich isn't tasty, love." He quickly corrected himself, "Just sayin' you eat that sandwich every day. Why not try something new?"

You smiled so big your cheeks started to hurt, "Thank you, Si." You reached over and squeezed his hand, knowing he wasn't big on PDA.

He squeezed your hand back, "Eat, please." He scooped up some pasta and held it in front of your face.

"All right, all right." You grabbed the fork.

iv. quality time - "Create special moments together, take walks and do small things with your partner. Weekend getaways are huge."

Out of the blue, Simon surprised you with a mini getaway to a cabin in the woods, away from the rest of the world, something you mentioned to Simon a couple of times.

You spent your days doing whatever you wanted. Whenever you went on trips, you usually had a plan or at least an idea of what you wanted to do, but since Simon had planned this trip and had sprung it on you, he didn't really have anything planned, which was his plan.

He knew you were organized and always liked to plan ahead, so instead, he planned, for your trip, to do absolutely nothing.

After lunch that you and Simon had cooked together, something new that you were doing now that you knew he knew what he was doing in the kitchen, you decided to go for an afternoon walk.

When Stanley heard his leash being picked up, he was sprinting down the hall and jumped up on Simon, who just so happened to pick it up.

"Whoa." Simon stumbled back but quickly caught his footing. He bent down and clipped the leash to Simon's collar. Once you were both suited up, you finally stepped outside.

Stanley happily trotted in front of you and Simon, taking in everything. He was sniffing everything and even tried to eat a mini pinecone.

"Aye, no." Simon gently yanked Stanley back, who looked up at Simon like a scolded child.

You smiled, walking ahead of the two of them, completely oblivious to the picture Simon snapped of you. He caught up with you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Thank you for this trip." You hummed happily, looking up at him.

"You seemed like you needed it." He shrugged.

"Still, this was so out of left field, I didn't even see it coming."

"That was sort of the point, love." He pointed out.

You rolled your eyes, "Thank you, Si."

"You're welcome, love."

v. words of affirmation - "Send an unexpected note, text, or card. Genuinely encourage, and often."

When you woke up, Simon was already gone, off to work out. You selfishly lay in bed for a few more seconds, debating if you should cancel your plans for the day and just stay there.

You eventually pulled yourself out of bed and made your way into the bathroom. As you reached for your toothbrush, you found a post-it sitting on the front of the cup holding your toothbrush.

You smiled to yourself when you saw Simon's chicken scratch messily written on the note.

"Hope you have the best day. Give Stanley an extra kiss from me." - S

You looked down at your dog Stanley who stood guard at your side. The funny part was when you first adopted him, Simon wasn't too excited about it, but he often found it hard to say "no" to you.

Even so, it took Simon a while to finally accept Stanley. But they quickly became best friends and you would often have to fight for your spot in bed.

You gave Stanley a few extra kisses before moving on with your morning routine. By the time you got to the kitchen, you were hungry, so when you saw the donut box sitting on the counter, you dug right into it.

You spotted the note when you were halfway through your donut. You reached for it and it brought another smile to your face.

"Something sweet for my sweet." - S

That one made you laugh.

Throughout the day, Simon would send you texts. They were nothing big, but they were from Simon, and they were new. It was a nice surprise.

"Hope lunch is good. Don't forget to drink water." - S

"Me and Stanley miss you" - S

"Get home safe." - S

As you drove home, you couldn't help but smile. You don't know what caused Simon to start writing you sweet notes and texts, but you weren't complaining.

When you got home, you were happy to finally spend time with your little family. Just you, Simon, and Stanley. You spent the night catching up on episodes of Hell's Kitchen, and no matter how much he denied it, Simon did like the show.

You turned the bathroom light off and were very much ready to crawl into bed and crash. But right as you were about to climb in, you saw another post-it sitting on your pillow.

Your heart fluttered as you read it, then reread, then reread it again.

"I love you." - S

The next morning, Simon woke up alone. You had mentioned the night before that you had to leave earlier than normal the next day to finish up some work.

Stanley laid next to him, taking advantage of you not being in the bed. He smiled, carefully petting Stanley's head and then climbing out of bed.

He flicked on the bathroom light and got ready to burhs his teeth. He stopped when he saw a post-it sticking to the front of the glass. He picked it up and read it, then reread it, then reread it again.

"I love you, too." - Y/I

tagging @2manytabsopen cause you're slay <3

add yourself to my taglist!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley imagines #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley imagines #simon riley fic #simon riley #ghost imagine #ghost imagines #ghost fic #ghost #cod #cod ghost #call of duty imagine

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lazybutsmexy · 1 year

Text

Emotional support bird

Ghost x fem!Reader (Canary) x Soap

Warnings: none. Pure fluff.

Word count: 850~

PT. 2

On AO3

A/N: take this as a little apology for all the angst I've been posting for this OT3 🫶♥️

“Simon, you’re not gonna believe what we saw at the market today!” (Y/n) greeted him with a wide smile as he held the door open for her and Johnny as they carried their full tote-bags into his house. Simon took a brief moment to admire the rosy apples of her cheeks, and her ever-present sparkling eyes, before she rushed into the kitchen to leave her bag on the counter. Johnny followed after her with a grin, offering Simon a wink as he headed straight to the fridge to leave the cold produce in it.

“...What did you see?” Simon inquired, his curiosity peaked as he shut the door and locked it, before following after his partners to help put the groceries away. They had decided to spend their mandatory two-week post-mission break at Simon’s house, but he had been severely understocked of food, hence the decision was made that Johnny and (Y/n) would make a trip to the closest farmer’s market and gather a few things they would need for the next few days.

“An emotional support dog!” she cooed as she handed him the jars that had to be stored away in the upper cabinets, “a beautiful chocolate lab, her coat was very shiny and she looked super cuddly too!” Simon took the small jars in twos, carefully setting them in their correct places as he listened to her, the hint of a smile teasing his lips as he listened to her. “She was with a family, but I think her owner was the smaller kid, he was holding the leash.” She glanced at Johnny, who still hadn’t been able to wipe the grin off his face. He had already listened to her ramble about the dog, and found it impossible to resist her contagious enthusiasm.

“Those dogs work for different kinds of people,” Simon commented, “wonder why the kid would need one.”

“I don’t know, didn’t ask,” (Y/n) shrugged, handing him the last jar - a gallon jar of pickled peppers, her latest obsession, “I didn’t want to approach them and make them think that I was questioning them for having one.”

“...Do we really need a jar this big?” Simon arched an eyebrow as he picked the jar, nevertheless putting it in place with the others and silently thanking his past self for purchasing such sturdy kitchen cabinets.

“Yes, we do,” (Y/n) nodded in all seriousness, before her beaming smile returned as quickly as it had disappeared, “Oh! She even had her cute little vest on!” she cooed, a pout tugging at the center of her lips as she ended with a whine, “She was so~ cute!”

“Aw, Tweety-bird, don’t be jealous,” Johnny reached over and planted a wet smooch on her cheek, instantly tinting her entire face in a flush, “I think you look even cuter when you wear your vest~.”

“‘m not a dog, though,” she whined, and John and Simon shared a knowing look.

“So, you agree you look cute in your vest,” Simon smirked, his finger poking her nose and causing her to erupt in a giggle, gently swatting his hand away from her face.

“Oh, shut it, you know what I mean!”

Yeah, they knew.

~~~~~~

Two weeks later, as the team prepared to go on yet another mission to the other side of the world, Canary ran her checklist again, making sure everything was packed and ready to go. She was interrupted by two sharp knocks on the door, and she was pleasantly surprised when Ghost appeared at her doorway when she answered her door.

“Oh, hi! What’s-”

“I have a job for you,” he cut her off, and her brow tightened slightly at his serious tone, “follow me.” He left no room for questions as he swiftly turned around and began marching down the hallway in the direction he had come from. Canary was hot on his heels, wondering what this important job could be, being so close to the start of their new mission.

They headed straight to the infirmary, and her confusion only grew when she found Soap sitting on a chair, his left sleeve pulled up all the way above his shoulder, and the nurse waiting patiently next to him with a ready syringe.

“Ah, there she is!” Soap declared brightly, lifting his right arm and holding his hand out to her, “come here, I need you.”

Canary blinked but didn’t hesitate to hold his hand, still confused about the ordeal, “Um, what do you need me for?”

Soap couldn’t stop his grin from widening even more as he squeezed her hand, “Emotional support, duh,” he glanced at the nurse and tilted his head back to Canary, “this is my emotional support bird.”

Canary’s face burned as the nurse shook her head in amusement, getting on with giving Soap his booster shot. His eyes were trained on her in a soft gaze, and she debated whether she wanted to kiss him or smack him in the back of his head, leaning towards the latter as she noticed Ghost clearing his throat to disguise a chuckle behind her.

She still held his hand, though.

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nomadstucky · 2 months

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It’s thinking of Simon Riley being with a writer, and so you have him do experiments with you to see if a scene plays out the way you envisioned. Hours

Has this been done before?? Should I add yet another WIP to my already expansive list? Hmmmm

#reader insert #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley imagines #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty simon ghost riley #ghost smut #ghost x reader #ghost cod

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hiding-in-my-blanket-fort · 10 months

Text

Making Simon “Ghost” Riley into your boy toy (F!Reader):

Inspired by the stunning work on Twitter by BettyBRenders who created the image below that knocked the breath out of me and left me wheezing for a solid ten minutes.

TW: bondage, dom/sub elements, praise kink, a touch of humiliation/degradation???, dirty talk, unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up!!), mentions of drinking/alcohol, submissive Ghost (minors absolutely NO PEEKING UNDER THE CUT)

You worked as a bartender at a local place that Simon often frequents after a mission. The two of you developed a friendly and comfortable vibe, but you didn’t pry when he was brooding which he appreciated.

If Simon was honest, he was a little sweet on you. Admiring you from afar. He loved that you let your sassy side show when you became more familiar with him.

So it was late one night, the bar was practically empty and the two of you got talking. The alcohol was working its magic, loosening tongues and boosting confidence, lowering inhibitions. And there was definitely some flirting going on.

When you mentioned that you hadn’t been on a date in a while, that surprised Simon.

“Why?” he asked.

You shrugged. “I have certain…tastes. They intimidate most men.”

Your gaze drags up to meet his and Simon can tell you’re studying him. You wipe down the bar and then stop with your hands braced on the counter as you lean in. He holds your gaze without blinking the whole time.

“You don’t look like the type of guy to shy away from anything,” you say.

A small smile curls up at the corner of his mouth. “Sounds like a challenge to me.”

You give a coy little shrug. “Maybe it is.”

Normally, you never go home with a customer. But the chemistry between you and Simon is sizzling hot and you’re not about to pass up this opportunity. So you reach over and you hook two fingers into the silver gleam of his dog tags at his throat, tugging him closer.

“I’d like to make you my boy toy for the night,” you whisper. “Does that scare you, tough guy?”

He smirks with a breathy little laugh that has your stomach in butterflies. He doesn’t back down, unlike most guys you’ve shared your fantasy with who can’t handle being dominated.

“I’d like to see you try, love. I doubt you could break me.”

That’s the green light you’ve been hoping for and you shut down the bar, kicking out the few stranglers who are still lingering. Minutes later, you’re in a hotel room with Simon, pushing him through the door as he backs up.

He always an intimidating presence when he entered the bar, but now that you’re alone with him, touching him, trailing your hands up his torso, you realize he really is just a solid wall of muscle.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you mutter under your breath, practically ripping his shirt open in your desperation to reach skin.

You push Simon deeper into the room until you pull out a chair. His shirt is unbuttoned now, still tucked into his pants. He’s left his mask halfway pushed up his face, the way he usually wears it when he’s in the bar. You glimpse scars and tattoos and muscles and you’re pretty much salivating at this point.

“Sit,” you say.

Simon fixes you with a steady look as he lowers himself into the chair, spreading his knees wide, hands resting atop his thighs.

“Shirt,” you say. “Take it off. Won’t be needing it.”

He huffs a laugh and obeys without protest. He could easily fight you on any of your demands and you wouldn’t be able to force him to do a damn thing so you’re curious to see how far you can push before he starts to get a little resistant. You’ve known Simon for a while now and you really want to see what it takes to get him to run his mouth off a bit.

When you pull out a pair of handcuffs from your purse, Simon’s eyes flicker slightly but that’s the only tell he’ll give you. He doesn’t budge as you put them on.

You circle him, dragging your hand over his biceps, his shoulders, sliding down his chest and back up to cradle his throat. As you skim your hand through his hair, Simon tilts his head back, watching you.

As you come around to stand in front of him, you push in between his knees. Hooking your fingers into his dog tags, you tug the chain snug beneath his chin, forcing his head up.

Simon’s pupils go totally BLACK. His lips part and his Adam’s apple bobs, giving away just how hot he thinks you are.

You smile a little. “You’re very laidback for a guy cuffed to a chair.”

“Not my first time, princess,” he replies. “If you want to rattle me, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

You raise your eyebrows and curve your palms over the top of Simon’s thighs, gliding higher and higher.

“Are you saying,” you reply, your voice low as you nuzzle against his cheek. “You’re not turned on right now?”

Simon clenches his jaw tight and says nothing. But he watches you. God, this man never STOPS looking at you. Studying you.

You kiss his neck, sucking at his pulse, smoothing your tongue over his skin and scraping with your teeth.

“If I touched you,” you murmured into his neck. “Would you be hard for me?”

You move your palms lower, bracketing his inner thighs, not quite touching his groin. Simon’s gaze drops to your hands, his lashes shielding his expression. But he dips his head in a single, barely-there nod.

You brush your knuckles against his crotch, finding his cock straining against his jeans. Holy hell, you knew he’d be big and now you can’t wait to actually see him.

At your touch, Simon doesn’t make a sound. But his eyes flutter closed and he bows his head. He looks like a man steeling himself for inevitable torture.

The metallic clank of his belt echoes in the anticipatory silence of the room as you unbuckle him, drag the zipper of his fly down with a gritty rasp.

Simon is watching you again with pitch black eyes. He doesn’t move a muscle and sits as still as a statue as you pull out his gorgeous, thick cock and wrap your fingers around him. But he throbs in your hand, betraying just how much he’s enjoying himself.

You bite your lip with a grin as you circle your thumb over the head of his shaft.

“With equipment like this, you must have the stamina have a horse,” you say, endlessly circling your thumb. Simon’s breath grows shallower and shallower. The tendons in his neck stand out. “I could fuck myself on your cock, coming again and again, but you…”

You trailed off, kneeling between his thighs and kissed the tip of his cock, slowly, flicking your tongue along the slit.

Simon’s breath catches in his throat. His abs flex tight and hard as a slab of granite.

“You wouldn’t come if I ordered you not to, right, Simon?” you said, smiling sweetly up at him, your breath fanning over his cock with every word. The sight of you right now is enough to completely wreck him, but he has a will of iron and he’s stubborn as fuck.

And he has to admit: you’re right. He’s a man accustomed to following orders.

You scrape your teeth over his hip, dragging a long, deep groan out of Simon when the welt appears.

“Fucking hell, you little minx,” he growls.

He breaks off with a strangled noise when you slide a hand lower and cup his balls with a firm squeeze.

“Goddamn it,” he breathes out, tipping his head back.

Feeling very smug and satisfied watching Simon slowly begin to crumble, you stand and shimmy out of your jeans and underwear. As you straddle Simon, you take a fistful of his hair and pinch his lower lip between your teeth.

“Do you want me to stop, Simon?” you ask softly with a teasing note in your voice. “Is it too much for you to handle?”

You feel Simon shift beneath you, straining at the cuffs, fists clenched. He’s strong enough that you have no doubt he could probably just bust out of them.

“Don’t tell me this is all you’ve got, love,” he says. “If you think you can make me beg already, you’ll have to work harder for it.”

You raise your eyebrows at the way he’s goading you on.

“Oh, is that what you’re waiting for, Simon?” you ask in a sugary-sweet voice. “You want me to make you beg for it?”

He manages a breathless laugh, his eyes bright with this banter between you, loaded with sexual tension. So you line up his cock at your entrance, resting just the tip inside you. And you sink down, oh-so-slowly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” Simon hisses under his breath.

You’re pretty sure you’ve found heaven on earth because every inch of him is filling you so perfectly.

When Simon tries to bow his head again, lips skimming your cleavage, you yank his head back by his hair until he’s forced to look at you as you begin to roll your hips, gliding up and down his length.

With your free hand, you touch his chest, tracing his tattoos and scars. Resting your palm at the base of his throat, your thumb sliding up over his pulse.

He tries to thrust up into you, but you grab his chin with a fierce look.

“Did I tell you to move?” you demand with steel in your voice. “Did I give you permission to do that?”

The corner of his mouth twitches with a smirk.

Your fingers tighten, digging into his jawline.

“No,” he says. Then after a moment’s pause, he adds, “No ma’am.”

You smile, clenching around him until he grunts and his whole body jerks.

“Good boy.”

Simon’s cock surges inside you at the praise.

“Oh, look at that,” you say. “The big, mean, tough guy is obedient and eager to please.”

You swear a little flush of pink creeps up Simon’s neck and into his cheeks and it only makes him even more endearing to you.

“Uncuff me,” he replies. “And I’ll please you by fucking you into the mattress, baby girl.”

You laugh and kiss him, licking into his mouth. When you pull away, you tap your fingertip against Simon’s lips.

“Oh, no, no, no, sweetie. You’re not the boss here, remember? I’m the one using you to get off. And if you’re very good for me, I’ll let you come. Otherwise, all you get to do is sit there while I play with that beautiful cock of yours.”

You’re a soaking mess by now and you strip off your shirt and bra, barely breaking your rhythm. Planting your hands on Simon’s chest for leverage, you work yourself up and down his shaft, over and over, until the burning fire of an orgasm builds between your thighs.

You lock your fingers around the back of Simon’s head and pull him down. Before you can tell him what to do, he has one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking hard enough to make you see stars. Your body is lit up like a live wire, buzzing with electricity, trembling on the edge of release.

“That’s it, love,” Simon murmurs against your skin, peppering your tits with kisses. “Look at you, baby. Fuck. Squeezing my cock so tight. You can practice that wicked streak of yours on me all you like if it gets you this fucking wet, princess.”

You’re in a frenzy now as your orgasm starts to take over, climbing hot and fast. With your arms around Simon’s shoulders, he’s like an anchor, keeping you steady through the pleasure that washes through you.

He kisses up your neck, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear as the aftershocks wear off. You go limp, sagging against him.

When you kiss him and finally give Simon permission to come, he’s driving up into you like a man possessed, teeth gritted, face buried in your shoulder.

You cling to him, encouraging softly, “God, you’re so close, Simon. I can feel it.”

He finishes with one final, deep thrust that has you gasping against his mouth and your eyes rolling back in your head.

The two of you stay that way for a while, pressed flush against each other, exchanging lazy kisses, until he goes soft and slips out of you.

You thread your fingers through his hair, nuzzling him, before you retrieve the key from your jeans pocket and uncuff him.

Simon takes your wrist and pulls you into his arms, carrying you off to the bathroom where he washes—and kisses—every inch of you with admiration.

Masterlist

#cod #simon ghost riley #imagines #cod imagines #simon ghost riley imagines #simon ghost riley x reader #writing tag

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gingrrfrog · 9 months

Text

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

warnings: p in v sex, praise kinks, fluff, some angst? if you squint?, no mention of reader or y/n

summary: hours before his deployment, Simon thinks back to his time with you and how you manage to melt his heart

He doesn’t remember when, he only remembers what it felt like. It wasn’t cinematic, it wasn’t a rush of emotion that left him breathless.

It was calm.

A soft tingle in his fingertips he found whenever she was just slightly out of his reach. Tolerable it may have been, but the ache traveled into his arms and chest, suffocating his heart until her warmth melted the icy cage his heart was in.

“Simon?” She’d call out, pulling Ghost into her attention. It was always gentle, sometimes followed by a stretch of her arm so that her palm grazed his cheek—kind as she’s always been. A simple call of his name was enough to rip his gaze back to her, awaiting orders the way he had been trained—though not militarily—something deeper, the primal sense of devotion and worship, kneeled at her feet, his very own altar to pray.

Sometimes, the order was nonsensical, a simple task to be completed. Other times, the order was neither barked nor demanded, but whispered in between breaths against the other’s lips.

“Yes?” His voice is gruff, more so than he intended, but it’s out of sheer desperation to serve, to act in any way that pleased her.

“Kiss me,” she’d smile just enough to give him a glance at her teeth.

He would oblige wordless, their lips slotting together—Simon can’t help but to sigh, in relief of course, that his offering had been accepted.

She’s sweet and Simon doesn’t know if it comes from the candy always on hand or if from his own worship crazed brain. He listens to the soft sighs her mouth puffs out and gave a smile himself when she curled herself closer to his chest—safe, warm, secure—nothing would happen to them here.

“I love you,” she confessed, afraid that he wouldn’t feel the same despite his blown pupils and parted lips, eagerly awaiting another confession—physical or verbal, he wanted it all. But the words were stuck in his throat from the honey in her eyes and the raspberry marmalade color of her lips. All he could muster out was a raspy, “Let me.”

And she does.

Simon has little idea of what he’s doing, but the whimpers and the scrapes of her fingers against his scalp lead him. He can barely think with her cries and her pleas, her thighs wrapping and squeezing around his skull in a way that would make any mortal man lose his breath—but Simon was no ordinary man—he was trained for much worse. He drank eagerly until her thighs trembled until they fell limply on his shoulders as he continued to breathe praise into her center.

The pressure in his own tightens when he pulls away to see his work. She laid breathlessly pliant, her shirt pleated to her shoulders, the evidence of his adoration displayed on the most intimate parts of her chest, gentian petals crafted by his own teeth and desperate lips.

Simon hadn’t accounted or planned for anything else, this on its own was considered a privilege, but he was sure he saw heaven when she reached toward the front of his military issued trousers.

Somehow, Simon ended on his back as she sat on his lap, his stomach aching in anticipation as she hovered over him, her breathing coming out in broken breaths.

“Can I?” She eyed over his face for an answer, as if his pleading gaze wasn’t enough.

“Please,” He choked out, his hands finding purchase on her waist, “please, please—”

The rest of his supplication was drowned out by a grunt, her lips finding his again to swallow the moans that slipped from him as she lowered herself into a rhythm.

He isn’t sure that he’s able to control himself, not when her hands steady themselves on his chest, pinning him down as if he could ever think about leaving. Just as the though left his head, he’s startled by wet dripping on his chest, using his free hand to tilt her head to find somber eyes hidden by glassy tears running down her cheeks.

He panicked and immediately stopped his pace in fear that he hurt her, but she only shook her head and slipped into the space in between his neck and shoulders to let out a few more strangled cries.

“Don’t—” She choked a sob and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Please don’t go. Stay with me, come home to me.”

Simon kissed her hair and whispered praises before swearing empty promises. Who was he to deny? Though, who was he to promise something that depended on the humility of a higher power?

He promised anyway.

“Where else would I go, Love?” He smiled in her hair. “I’ll come back, I’ll make sure of it.”

“I love you,” He finally confessed. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here—with you. Forever.”

His pace deepens and he’s relieved to hear that whimpers no longer come from her cries but instead from pleasure while her fingernails scrape along the sides of his neck, his name falling from his lips in short bursts, in quick succession.

His grip on her waist tightens then, his knees bending to give a better angle as she bounced in his lap, cheeks flushed bright pink, a color that Simon swears he’s only seen on her.

“Where’d you want me, Darling?” He asked gruffly, making sure to punctuate his sentence with a nip to her ear.

“Inside,” She replied breathlessly. “Inside, please—”

He sat up for one final thrust that had her reeling over his shoulder, warmth spilling inside and spilling out the sides as her trembling and cries continue to spill over her cheeks.

They lied next to each other then. Silently.

It wasn’t until Simon pulled her against his chest again that tears were spilled once more, cries and concerns about Simon’s next mission, the severity, and whether or not he would come home. He did his best to ease her qualms, to assure her that he was a professional, and that the general would never lead them astray.

He would be due to leave the house in two hours, and it was in his best interest to calm her nerves.

“I can’t die if my heart is here, safe with you,” He promised, his hand tracing her neck before it stopped at her chest. “So long as you’ve got it, nothing’ll happen to me.”

“Promise?”

Simon kissed her hand, “Swear.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #simon ghost riley imagines

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horangislittletiger99 · 8 months

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this is just my friend's oc and Simon (maybe könig too)

(Tag)

@luckyheart-67676

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sailorsolar12 · 8 months

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Homecoming (Ghost Version)

This is going to be a...not a series per say...but a small one shot fic involving different MW2 characters.

Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley

Pairing: Ghost x GN Reader (Y/n is not used)

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: Cuteness

A/N: Please be nice.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the quiet suburban neighborhood. A sense of anticipation hung in the air, an electric current of excitement that seemed to resonate with every passing moment. In the heart of that neighborhood stood a modest house, its windows lit with warm, welcoming light.

Simon "Ghost" Riley had spent months away from home, embroiled in covert operations and dangerous missions as a key member of Task Force 141. The battles he'd faced were brutal, his skills tested to their limits, but his thoughts were never far from the one person who had anchored him throughout the chaos.

As his car pulled into the driveway, Ghost took a deep breath, his heart racing with a mix of nerves and anticipation. He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror, his iconic skull mask no longer obscuring his face. The scars of war marred his features, a testament to the trials he'd endured.

With a sense of purpose, Ghost stepped out of the car and made his way to the front door. The house looked unchanged from when he had left, a comforting familiarity that eased his nerves. He lifted a hand to knock but paused, his ears catching a faint sound from within.

Laughter. The sound of pure, unadulterated joy.

A smile tugged at the corners of Ghost's lips as he pushed open the door. The living room was aglow with warm light, the walls adorned with photographs capturing moments of happiness and love. And there, in the center of it all, was their significant other, their eyes sparkling with mirth.

They were engaged in a lively dance with a golden retriever, their laughter filling the room as the dog leaped and twirled in joyful abandon. Ghost watched, his heart swelling with affection, as they moved with an energy that was infectious.

The dog noticed Ghost first, its tail wagging furiously as it bounded over. Ghost knelt down, his hands outstretched, and the dog's excitement was palpable as it showered him with slobbery kisses. He laughed, scratching behind its ears before he rose to his feet.

"Welcome home, Simon!" their significant other exclaimed, their voice a mix of surprise and delight as they abandoned their dance to rush into his arms.

Ghost's embrace was tight, his relief at being back in their arms evident. He breathed in the familiar scent of home, the warmth of their presence grounding him in a reality that felt worlds away from the battlefields he'd traversed.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you," Ghost murmured into their hair.

They pulled back slightly, their eyes meeting his with a mixture of love and concern. "I've missed you too. But you're here now, and that's what matters."

As they spoke, Ghost couldn't help but notice the slight signs of weariness in their eyes. It had been a long deployment, and he knew that they had faced their own challenges while he was away. He reached out, his thumb brushing gently across their cheek.

"Hey, you've been holding down the fort here," he said, his voice soft with gratitude.

Their smile was bittersweet, a reflection of the strength they had summoned in his absence. "We've had our moments, but knowing you were out there doing what you do best... it made it a little easier."

Ghost pressed a kiss to their forehead, his heart swelling with admiration. "I couldn't have done it without you waiting for me here."

Their significant other pulled him closer, their lips finding his in a tender, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of reconnection, and of promises made without words. When they finally pulled away, their eyes held a mixture of tenderness and playfulness.

"So, how about a proper welcome home celebration?" they suggested, a mischievous glint in their eyes.

Ghost raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "And what does that entail?"

Their grin widened, and they took his hand, leading him toward the living room. "Well, first, you have to meet the newest member of our family."

As they stepped into the living room, Ghost's eyes fell on a tiny crib, nestled in a corner. A rush of emotions overtook him as he gazed at the slumbering bundle within. It was as if time stood still as he approached, his fingers gentle as he brushed against the soft fabric.

"Our daughter," his significant other said softly, their voice filled with awe and love.

Ghost's heart swelled with a mixture of emotions. He had known they were expecting, but seeing their child for the first time, his own flesh and blood, filled him with a sense of wonder that words couldn't capture. He turned to them, his eyes misty.

"I... I don't know what to say," he admitted, his voice catching in his throat.

They took his hand, their fingers intertwining. "You don't have to say anything. You're here now, and that's what matters."

As Ghost gazed at his significant other and their daughter, a profound sense of gratitude washed over him. He had returned from the darkness of war to a home filled with light, love, and the promise of a future he had fought to protect.

Days turned into weeks, and Ghost settled into the rhythm of domestic life. The challenges of the battlefield had taught him to appreciate the small moments, the quiet joys that could easily be overlooked. He spent his days alternating between helping with diaper changes and marveling at the miracle of parenthood.

Late one evening, as the house was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, Ghost found himself rocking their daughter to sleep. She nestled against his chest, her tiny fingers curling around his own. He watched her peaceful expression, his heart aching with a love that was both fierce and gentle.

Their significant other entered the room, their steps soft as they approached. They leaned against the doorway, their eyes filled with tenderness as they watched Ghost with their child.

"She's lucky to have you," they said, their voice barely above a whisper.

Ghost looked up, his gaze meeting theirs. "And I'm lucky to have both of you."

Their smile was radiant, a reflection of the happiness that had taken root in their lives. "You know, you're a natural at this."

Ghost chuckled softly, his movements gentle as he continued to rock their daughter. "I guess some things are worth fighting for."

As the night wore on, Ghost lay in bed beside his significant other, their daughter asleep in the crib nearby. Their fingers were intertwined, their bodies curled together in a quiet intimacy that felt like a sanctuary from the world. The scars of war were still present, both physical and emotional, but in that moment, they were overshadowed by the warmth of love and the promise of a future built on shared dreams.

"Promise me something," Ghost said softly, his voice a whisper in the darkness.

Their significant other shifted, their gaze curious. "Anything."

He turned to them, his eyes earnest. "Promise me that no matter what comes next, we'll face it together. As a family."

Their smile was soft, their fingers tracing delicate patterns on his hand. "I promise."

In the embrace of that promise, Ghost found a sense of peace he had thought was lost forever. The scars of the past would always be a part of him, but they no longer defined him. He was more than a soldier; he was a partner, a parent, and a beacon of hope in a world that often seemed dark and uncertain.

As he drifted into sleep, his significant other by his side and their daughter's gentle breaths filling the room, Ghost knew that he had finally found his way home. The battles he had fought, the sacrifices he had made—they had all led him to this moment of belonging, of love, and of a future that held infinite possibilities.

#sailorsolar12 #fanfiction #imagines #imagine #simon riley imagines #mwii imagines #cod mw2 #cod mwii #ghost imagines #ghost #simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley imagines #simon ghost riley imagine

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ragingbookdragon · 3 months

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It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?

He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.

“No.”

“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”

“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”

“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”

Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”

“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.

It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”

Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”

Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.

“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”

He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.

“Quit that.”

“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”

“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”

“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”

“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”

“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”

“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”

“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”

Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”

Price simply watches him.

“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”

It's another long moment before Price speaks.

“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”

“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”

Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.

“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”

As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”

He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”

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kittykattropicanna · 4 months

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would you please be able to go into more detail about your prison penpal!simon? why is reader doing it, how did they choose simon (if they had a choice at all), the sorts of letters they exchange? and if they’re any sort of smutty bits for them too? your mechanic au has me absolutely feral beyond words so seeing this made me so excited.

Omg you’re my first asked AHHHHHH I want to scream thank you so much!!!!!

Absolutely I can go into detail about PrisonPenPal!Simon :3 I can't get out of my mind how deprived he is argh!!! >:( all this time alone, and now that you're here writing him pretty little letters, he can't imagine life without you :3

TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, breading kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), smut, not sub!simon but he does cum in his pants, ahhh you're both just so obsessed with each other :3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

I’ll give you a little back story to why Si actually ended up in jail…

I feel like he retied, left SAS and tried to integrate back into civilian life but failed miserably. He started going out to bars and drinking pretty heavily. The alcohol made him angry, he never was outwardly violent, but everyone could tell he was just a very dark, tortured guy that sat in the back of the bar every night and drank himself stupid. It was like an unwritten rule that nobody bothered him. His a massive guy who’s ex military, if you had half a brain you would leave him alone.

One night he was leaving the pub and this stupid, stupid 18 year old kid thought it would be funny to try square up to him and impress his friends.

It didn’t matter how many times they told him to quit it and leave Simon alone, he still trudged up to him with his head held high and chest puffed.

This kid came up behind Si and punched him in that back of the head. It wasn’t a good punch by any means but it was more then enough to drive Simons drunk brain into utter rage.

He turned around and punched this kid straight in the head. He went down like a stack of bricks, head making direct impact with the concrete floor, killing him instantly.

The kid was only 18, he had so much life left to live…..

Of course Si felt absolutely disgusted in himself, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Killed a poor kid who made a stupid decision and ultimately ended his life as well.

He handed himself over the the police without hesitation. He went quietly and respectfully, cooperated with the police throughout the whole trial, never redirecting blame onto the kid or made it harder then it needed to be.

He pled guilty for involuntary manslaughter and assault. Gaz, Johnny and Price all pitched in to get him the best defence lawyer humanly possible……ultimately, it worked. Even though the general public was outraged at his light sentence.

Simons lawyer claimed the punch was in self defence. Someone attacking him from behind also trigged his PTSD resulting in Simon not being able to control his actions in that moment.

These defences along with him serving in the military for 15+ years and cooperating with the authorities got him 8 years in prison, his sentence was quickly reduced to 4 because of his good behaviour.

It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it was the best case scenario with the cards he was dealt.

But lets fast forward to the present….. How did you decide to actually start writing to an inmate? How did you even find out about it?

I have this really cute idea that maybe you were walking through the shopping centre and there was one of those pop up markets that sit in the middle of everything, you know, with the really annoying people that flag you down and you have to awkwardly not make eye contact and walk past them while they’re try and sell you stuff?

Yeah, one of them. This specific stand kinda caught your eye though, It was called “Write An Inmate”

You talked to the guy at the stand about what exactly “Write An Inmate” was and he explained that he was part of the program when he was locked up, how much it helps inmates get through their sentence, helps connect them to the outside world and genuinely just keeps them hopeful.

First off you were a little hesitant…..speaking to someone who’s in jail because they broke the law sounded a little scary….

But hell, its a start of a new year and taking some time out of your day every once in a while to write a short letter to help keep someones hopes up is the least you can do.

Besides! One of your childhood best friends big brothers went to jail and he wasn’t a bad guy! One of your new years resolutions was to spread more kindness and this is just a perfect way to do so!

Once you got home, you look up the website on the brochure that was given to you and quickly start scrolling through inmates.

They all had profiles with information about them. You couldn’t see what they were in for, but you could see other information like their name, age, date they signed up for the program, time served/time until they get out, amount of letters they have received, a short description of who they are/what they like and a few photos showcasing what they look like.

You scrolled through a few but they all seemed to have gotten hundreds of letters, you wanted to write someone who wasn’t getting flooded every week with letters, maybe send a letter to someone who could use a pick me up.

Clicking on the last page you scrolled to the very bottom and click on the last inmate before it even had time to load.

Once the page opened the name “Simon Riley” appeared on your screen

After looking through his profile a wave of sadness rolled over you

Name: Simon Riley, most people call me Ghost Age: 36 Joined: December 26th, 2021 Letters Received: 0 Time served: 3 and a half years Sentence ends: Year and a half Description: ex military. I like dogs, big ones not small ones, the outdoors, playing cards and motorcycles. The first thing I want to do when I get out is to eat a steak.

Attached was three photos. I won’t even lie, they’re definitely dad selfies from different angles HAHAHA they’re such grainy photos too, like they’ve been taken on a 10 year old android.

Two of the selfies are him with a black balaclava on and the last one was of his face without anything covering it, but again it so grainy you can’t really make his facial features out.

Simon had joined the program two years ago and hadn't received one letter. You felt horrible, he joined the day after Christmas probably hoping to receive something, anything, but not one person took the time to write him…..

So obviously Simon was going to be your prisoner pen pal, how could he not be…..

I think the letters start off pretty innocently tbh, you don’t start writing to Simon with the intention of starting any sort of sexual or romantic relationship, it truly is out of the goodness of you’re heart, you sweet girl :(

Simon had totally forgotten about the program honestly, imagine his shock when the prison guard threw him a letter.

When he frowned and asked who its from the guard just shrugged and said “write an inmate program” and walked off completely unfazed.

But again, starts out super innocent, things like “I saw that you like big dogs, what’s your favourite breed?” and “what’s your favourite card game? I know how to play blackjack but I’m not very good haha”

I’d like to think you don’t even disclose your gender or name at the start. Keeping everything under lock and key.

Simon also answers back with pure intentions at first, he has an inkling you may be a women because the hand writing is wayyy to pretty and delicate to come from a man.

But again! He doesn’t get his hopes up, it could be an old granny for all he knows, but he can’t shake the idea that maybeeeee it could be someone a little more his type, ya know ;)

After a couple weeks of writing letters back and forth you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better. He asks you to call him Simon, not Ghost and he starts writing the cheesiest dad jokes at the bottom of every letter.

“Two fish are in a tank, one turns to the other and asks “do you know how to drive this thing?” a little army humour for ya’ :)”

His so charming in such a rough and rugged sort of way you know? It sounds silly to say, I mean, you’ve never met him! But the way his handwriting is complete chicken scratch and how he adds little “:)” “:(“ and “>:)” makes you giggle!

You end up telling him your name and how old you are, I mean, its only fair! You know his name! You definitely didn’t tell him because you wanted to get his mind racing, get him thinking about all the different possibilities, make him fantasize…

Its fair to say you have a little crush on him :( ahhhh its so humiliating! A city girl like you, good job, successful family and a bright future laying in bed every night fucking your pussy with a brand new dildo you bought just so you could imagine Simon, a felon, fucking your little cunt :(

When Simon sent his letter that week asking for a photo of you, your little crush just got bigger :(

“Its only fair don’t ya’ think? You know what I look like, why don’t ya’ return the favour sweetpea ;)”

And of course you did!! He asked so politely!

Putting on your pushup bra, doing your makeup and styling your hair all for him:(((

You get so frustrated because you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard for him, argh! Its all so embarrassing!! Your such a needy girl >:(

You make sure to push up your tits, your bra helping them spill out over your cute little shirt and giving him a good view of your gorgeous body.

After an hour of taking photos you finally get the shot you were looking for

Eyes sparkling, cute little smile on your lips, light hitting your face just right, lacy bra slightly peaking out the top of your shirt just enough that it looks like an accident, beautiful tits sitting right in frame so he can get a good look and the slight curve of your waist visible.

Its perfect, it look so effortless…..in your eyes at least

When Si received your letter, his cock got hard the second he saw your picture :((((

Since his been locked up he hasn’t been able to jerk off properly >:(

His balls are so heavy as is, and now he has a photo of you

He could basically cum in his pants at the thought of holding your waist as you ride him. Using his big callused hands to fuck your pretty pussy onto his aching cock >>:((((((

You’re so put together! nice clothes, from the look of the background, nice apartment, clean bedroom. Just the thought of him corrupting you, fucking his baby into you, making you move into a shitty little apartment while he works and you look after his chubby baby makes his dick start to twitch :3

Before he can stop himself, he cums all in his pants :(

He hasn’t cum properly in years! yet a simple photo of you did it for him in seconds!!! You’re such a nasty minx, you know exactly what you’re doing you dirty girl >>:(

That night he lays under the covers, his cell mate fast asleep on the other side of the room as he slowly pumps his cock to the photo of you.

Eyes closed and head thrown back against the thin pillow, he bites his lip so he doesn’t make any noise.

You see, playboy magazines get passed around all the time, they’re not hard to find if you know the right people, but it just doesn’t do it for Si!!

Of course they’re beautiful women, there’s no doubt about it, but everything so photoshopped :(

Si likes his women natural. No skin smoothing filters or enhancements from photoshop, he likes his women real

His so deprived that he cums in record time, his hot load shooting all over your face, the once clean photo now sticky and stained….

He wished he had it in him to be embarrassed, but he just can’t! God, he needs to hear your voice, your picture just isn’t enough anymore….

In his next letter he asks if he could use his monthly call to speak to you……Johnnys just gonna have to wait, they can talk football another time >:(

Aghhhh, PrisonPenPal!Simon is so fucking cocky it hurtssss, PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping - fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

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ghostssweetgirl · 1 year

Text

Injured, Pt. 3 [smut]

simon ghost riley x fem reader

Part 3 of the Injured series!

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Part three <- you're here

cw: soft simon, teasing, public sex (hospital room), p in v sex, face sitting, porn with a plot i guess, simon's a siiimp, fluff

minors, do not interact! 18++ only !!

nsfw under the cut!

After an extended mission, one of the worst in your career so far - you sat in the hospital room next to Ghost, finding yourself truly worried about him. You two didn't have an established relationship, yet you couldn't leave his side. You've been here for 3 days, sleeping uncomfortably on the hospital chair, refusing to leave even though he would grumble and complain about your need to return to base - you refused his orders.

No, he wasn't in critical condition, he was mostly fine, save for the fact he had a sprained ankle, fractured wrist, and a stab wound in his shoulder. You knew he was hurting but not letting it show. Plus you remembered your rookie days, when you got shot and he helped you, not leaving your side.

The nurse brought in food for the both of you and while you ate yours, Simon meekly pushed his away. You softly huffed in a concerned tone. "Simon... You need to eat, hon."

He grunted in response, tilting his head toward you.

"Don't test me, Lieutenant. I'll hand feed you if I have to," you squinted your eyes at him, to which he replied by rolling his. "Fine, then."

You scoot the chair closer to him, grabbing some bites on the fork. You lift his mask above his nose and lift the fork to his lips, which he hesitantly opened up to eat. "Was that so bad?"

"Fuckin' hate hospital food," he muttered with a mouth full of food.

"I do too, but you have to eat."

He continued to complain but kept eating, making you happy.

While you spoon fed him, you both looked each other in the eyes and childishly, started giggling. You were becoming near delirious from lack of sleep, and he was high off pain medication. His hand rested on your thigh but you saw his dark eyes trail off onto your body.

"Hey, now..." you blushed. "Focus on eating."

"'S hard to when you always look so fuckin' delicious," he grumbled, flirting with you. "I'd rather eat you."

"Simon!" you shushed him, playfully scolding him as your face heated up blush-red. You must admit, it was funny, him being so grumpy while you're finally the one taking care of him. Your hookups have been in secret, but with how long you've stayed by his side it wouldn't be hard for the rest of the team to figure it out. And then you thought about what happened when he took care of you. The desperation for each other in the sex that you had that day. How well he had already knew your body and reveled in each orgasm he drew from you.

"You know you like it."

"Y-yeah, I do," you giggled breathily, trying to focus on feeding him but your thoughts were leading you straight to the gutter. "You really need to finish eating, babe."

"I've ate enough, I'll be fine," he bargained, his fingers massaging deep circles into your hip, which he knew you liked. "I can see you thinkin' about it. Sit on my fuckin' face."

"Simon! What if a nurse walks in?! Si- Fuck," you whisper-yelled, worried about being caught but the way he slow blinked at you up and down with heavy-lidded eyes, you could see the need that was evident. At this moment, it felt like time slowed though your heart raced a million miles per minute. As your eyes fluttered between both of his, you don't know what you were feeling but... would it be so bad to say that you... loved him?

"Then they get a free show," he chuckled softly, his eyes softening at your loving gaze. His hands wondered up your sides, caressing your ribcage as you leaned into him, planting on your lips on his harshly with fiery passion. "Mm..."

You took his breath away from him in that kiss. The way they melded together so perfectly... It hit you that you, in fact, were ruined for him. No one else could kiss you like this, touch you like this, work you up like this. His hand lazily cupped your face before softly resting at your collarbone. His rough calloused fingers rubbed the delicate skin.

You had to pull away with a heated gasp to undo your pants. He smirked watching you, eyes aiming at the area he wanted to devour. You laughed lowly, biting your lip as you wiggled your hips out of your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, what a gorgeous fuckin' figure," he praised, sucking in a breath as a hand reached out to grope and squeeze at your ass and rub up your waist to your hips. "Now sit on my face, want to taste you."

You had to crawl up in an awkward position, but the both of you couldn't care less in this moment. He groaned in slight pain as he scooted down a bit, trying to make it easier on you. As his hands came around to grab hold of where your thighs meet your hips, he pulled your full weight on top of his face.

"Oh... Fuck~," you whined. "Si- Fuck..."

Your mouth opened in awe, immense pleasure as his lips tightly wrapped around your throbbing clit before spreading and licking down your folds, sucking on them roughly as he let go with a pop before he continued to lap at your bundle of nerves. His hums vibrated against you as you needily grinded on his face.

"Simon, just like that, yes!" you squealed, covering your mouth. He noticed your muffled moans before he chuckled, only pushing his mouth into you harder, pulling you down. "A-are you okay? Ah- does your shoulder hurt?"

You showed concern while all he wanted was to make you cum on his face, he didn't give a shit about the pain no more, it dissipated as he made music from your whimpers and moans. He lightly nipped at your outer lips as a response, earning an exciteful yelp from you.

You were near to your orgasm, your grip at the head of the bed tightened as your body shook, but as you shook it only rubbed your clit against his expert tongue harsher and faster, far too much for you to handle. Your head lulled back, catching a glimpse of his rock hard cock under the blanket, twitching at your release gushing over his face, leaving a translucent sheen on his chin and cheeks.

"Simon! N-no more, fuck! Please!" you had to pry yourself from his lips, his strong arms keeping you in place tried to give you a hard time but in his injured state he couldn't fight back too hard. "Holy fuck, I want your cock..."

He didn't answer as he panted, a shit-eating grin spread across his face as he's happy to have gotten his way, but now it was your turn.

You palmed his cock through his sweatpants, the wet precum seeped through the fabric as your fingers teased his clothed slit. He near whimpered at your touch as you freed his cock, his pants pulled down enough for you to ride him.

You softly crawled on top of him, your tits popping out of your shirt while you were leaned over him. He bit at your nipple, sucking harshly after the impact causing you to lean into his face as you aligned him with your hole, teasing the tip as you slowly sank onto it. A deep growl came from his chest as he felt your grip and he let go of your tit, letting you lean back to take him deeper. You pressed your hands on his chest as you worked towards bouncing on it, allowing yourself to adjust to the stretch, after all, it had been a while since the last time you felt him in you.

"I think it's kind of funny, sir," you spoke, still riding him slowly, moaning in between pants.

"Fuck... What?"

You had to pause as he thrusted up, his tip perfectly kissed your cervix and you about lost control right there.

"How... the big, bad, Ghost... got injured..." you sucked in a breath, biting your lip as you looked down at his nearly closed eyes. He was nodding as he was listening, but too focused on the way your cunt wrapped around his thick cock perfectly. "And it's me that's on top of you... riding your cock. Remember... Oh~,"

"Remember when I got shot?"

"Fuuuck, yes, yes I remember..." he muttered through clenched teeth as you planted your legs on either side of him for a better hit, picking up the pace as you softly slammed on his cock.

"That's what started all of this, right, sir?"

His eyes rolled into the back of his head, you don't think he heard you. Your hand snaked up his chest to his neck, slightly choking him before you cupped his jaw, rubbing his soft stubble that had leftover slick covering it. His high-pitched whimpers that were falling out of his mouth was bliss. You leaned down, sucking his bottom lip before kissing him with affectionately.

"Are you mine, Simon?"

"Mm~, fuck... Yes, yes, 'M yours," he panted into your mouth.

As you kissed him, his hand held your hand there, your pace slowed as you slowly moved your hips back in forth with fervor. Your pussy was squelching all over him as you couldn't hold back your next release, it was emotional as your eyes teared up, cupping both sides of his jaw as you moaned into each other's mouths.

He let go with a deep groan, which you eagerly swallowed and allowed him to ride his high as your pace slowed.

Your body stuttered as you stopped, lowering your knees to either side of him. You were out of breath, but there was something different about... this... the afterwards.

You held intense eye contact before smiles crept over both of your faces, again laughing childishly together again.

"I love you, Simon," you smiled, wiping the tears from your eyes. His lips parted as he returned the smile, before removing your hand to wipe the tears himself.

"I... love you, too," he breathed out in relief, finally admitting the thought on his chest he's withheld for months now.

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simonrileysfavteacup · 13 days

Text

You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”

He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”

“I want a big mac.”

He groans louder.

“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”

He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”

You almost tear up.

When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”

You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”

He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed.

He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag.

“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”

“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?”

“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full.

“Do ya think he’ll like me?”

“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”

He chuckles, “Love you too.”

He leans down, kissing your belly.

“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”

#ghost call of duty #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #cod ghost #ghost mw2

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lazybutsmexy · 1 year

Text

Bird hunting

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

Chapter 11: Canary

Ch. 10 < Series Masterlist > Ch. 12

Warning: character death, graphic description of injuries, cursing.

Summary: A reunion and an apology.

Do not read this work if you're ander 18. This work contains mature and triggering themes.

Word count: 2300~

The sound of the running water has always been comforting to Canary. It never failed to lull her into a sense of relaxation. Granted, the low adrenaline and the blood loss were also aiding her weakened state. At any other point, she would’ve felt anxious, but there was nothing she could really do at this point. She had already tried to get up, and barely managed to make herself dizzier. Her body kept shivering due to the cold, and she guessed she was about to break into a fever anytime now.

However, she knew now that Ghost was close, and Soap was likely with him. They must have found out where she was, and it would be only a matter of time until they realized she was in the forest. She knew they wouldn’t leave without her. No one fights alone. No one is left behind. She only needed to keep herself awake and press down on her wound until they found her.

She reminisced of a childhood with her grandparents, cooling off during the summer by jumping in the pond, and weekend trips to the river to go fishing. One time, her grandmother had taken her hiking in the mountains in search of blueberries, and they ran into a stream - just like this one. But as they looked towards the other shore, they saw a fox mom and two kits. The mom was drinking water from the stream and the kits were bouncing around, squeaking like fluffy, jumpy toys.

There was a rustle of leaves coming from the opposite shore, and Canary snapped back into the present. She combed the shore with her eyes, hoping to see the familiar skull mask or a mohawk, but instead she saw a figure getting closer to the shore, a bit wobbly and heaving for air.

When Alan finally made it into the clear, her blood froze in her veins. How was he even alive? She was almost certain she had stabbed him in the chest, but in her enraged and adrenaline-fueled frenzy, she may have missed his heart just so. She cursed herself for not further checking if he was truly dead before running from the cabin, though she had to concede that she was not in the same mental state as she usually was in the battlefield. It was not the time to try and analyze her actions, though.

She silently watched him from behind the bushes, as he drawed his eyes carefully along the shore, until he stopped right at the place she had crossed. She followed his gaze and cursed, her heart drumming wildly against her ribcage - he found her footprints in the mud.

Alan approached the trace slowly, his left arm hung limp by his side, covered in blood from the shoulder, and in his right hand he held the gun. He stopped and studied the mud, following with his gaze an imaginary trace to the other side of the stream. Canary held her breath as she saw his eyes light up and he found the continuation of the footprints on her side of the shore.

Although she wasn’t wearing any camo, her running clothes were dark enough to be hidden in the shadows of the forest. If she stayed still, he might look past her. It was no more than wishful thinking though, as Alan raised his right arm, and shakily aimed in her general direction. His crazed, bloodshot eyes were wide open, and his face vaguely resembled one of those japanese demon masks that Oni had given her as a gift and now hung on her living room wall, only much paler from his own blood loss.

She waited for him to shoot at any random direction - maybe even her head -, but instead he stepped into the stream. His steps were slow, almost robotic, and Canary had to remind herself to breathe as every step brought him closer to her. Suddenly, a distant call reached her ears:

“Canary!”

Soap’s voice traveled through the forest and into her ears, washing over her entire body like a cool shower on a hot summer day. Canary opened her mouth to call back, but shut it quickly and bit her lip - if she made the littlest noise, Alan would find her, and he was already here unlike Soap. She began brainstorming for a way to get their attention, her thoughts growing frenzy and more muddled the further Alan got into the water. As he was about to reach the middle of the current, he stopped, a demonic smirk spreading through his lips like poison ivy.

“There you are,” he sneered, and fired the gun.

~~~~~~~

“...So, why do they call you Canary?” Gaz inquired as the post-mission lull fell upon the team as they waited in a safehouse for extraction.

Canary blinked and let a small, playful grin stretch her lips. “Well…”

~~~~~~

As the bullet whistled past her, narrowly missing her shoulder, she braced herself closer to the large tree beside her to use it as a shield.

There was no point in hiding now, she thought with a grimace, they must’ve heard the gunshot.

She gulped down what little saliva she could muster and thought of how to let them know she was still there, waiting for them. She remembered how her voice failed her when she tried to call for Ghost earlier, and decided that it wouldn’t be much different now.

Instead, she wet her lips and took a deep breath, filling her lungs until it hurt to do so and her sight grew hazy from the pain, and let it out in a clear, high-pitched whistle.

~~~~~~

“Canary!” Soap called again, his eyes searching into the forage for any sign of movement. Both him and Ghost knew that, if Canary was being chased by the other man, she probably wouldn’t give away her position, but it would assure her that they were there, about to find her. He looked to his three, finding Ghost sweeping the greenery through the scope. Gaz was on his nine, while Price had chosen to search through the road just in case.

Just as he opened his mouth to call for Canary again, they heard the gunshot. No words needed to be exchanged, as they rushed in its direction. Cold sweat ran down Soap’s back as the thin branches hit his face in his race towards the gunshot.

They were so close, so close. It couldn’t, it wouldn’t end like this when they were this close to Canary.

Abruptly, as bright as the first star in the evening skies, a clear whistle rang through the forest, and both Soap and Ghost knew exactly who it belonged to. Their hearts filled with euphoria as they cleared the distance to the stream, and they saw from the distance a man standing in the middle of the water, his gun pointed to the other side as he shot it once more.

~~~~~~

The second bullet ricocheted on the tree trunk, and Alan resumed his march across the stream. But as he took another step, a searing pain exploded in the back of his leg, making it buckle into the freezing water. Looking at the back of his leg for the origin of the pain, he saw the hilt of a knife sticking out. And as he turned his face to see where it came from, a large shadow with the face of the grim reaper engulfed him

Alan barely had time to gasp in surprise when a gloved hand clutched his throat and dunk him in the icy water. He struggled to keep the air in his lungs as the shock from the cold took hold of his body, but the grip on his throat was so strong that no air would be let in or out anyway.

In a desperate attempt to shrug off the massive and increasing weight on his windpipe, Alan raised his gun, but managed nothing as another knife was stabbed between his ribs. He realized in terror that the air was escaping him, and felt the icy water invade his lung from the open wound.

As his mouth fell open in a gargled scream, the darkness invaded his sight from the corners, the face of the grim reaper being the last thing he would ever see.

~~~~~~

Ghost retrieved his knife from the ribs of the man beneath him, and watched as life faded from his terrified eyes. He secretly wished he had had more time to make the bastard pay for what they did to Canary, but this was just as good.

He looked up from the corpse and saw that Soap had finished crossing the stream and was now approaching Canary, and he jumped to his feet to follow him.

Canary stared at Soap’s figure with half-lidded eyes, her breathing growing heavier by the second. The whistle she made earlier had taken all but a portion of the oxygen in her lungs, and she was having a hard time getting it back. Still, a relieved smile lightened up her features, and she raised a shaky hand to meet him.

“J-Johnny,” she panted the moment her fingers met his, “s-sorry about t-the hoodie,” she wanted to say more but was interrupted by soft lips pressing against hers in an urgent, desperate kiss.

Although it was short-lived, it didn’t fail to leave her dazed and wanting more, with warmth spreading to her cheeks as their eyes met.

“Fuck, Tweetie, y’know there are plenty of those for you to steal whenever,” he couldn’t help but grin as his hands engulfed her cheeks, before his eyes roamed down her body to check her injuries, and his features fell into a frown. “Alright, bonnie, let me check these,” his hand inched closer to her bandages, and she whimpered in pain at the touch, her head falling back limply against the tree.

From a distance, they could hear Gaz calling into his radio, and the sloshing water as Ghost ran towards them.

“I-... I lost a lot of blood,” she groaned, and her face paled again much to Soap’s desperation. He pulled away the bandages just as Ghost joined them, and kept himself from gasping at the state of her wound. Simon just made it to their side and Canary’s head lolled to the side to watch him, sending him a sleepy smile.

“I knew you’d come,” she whispered as he got closer. His eyes crinkled in a smile as he held her cold hand, pressing a kiss on it through the fabric of the balaclava.

“Of course I would,” he exhaled, trying not to make the knot in his throat choke him up, “I’ve waited two bloody months to see you again.” Canary smiled through her foggy eyes as a stray tear rolled down her cheek.

Simon wiped it away with his thumb and looked at what Johnny was inspecting. His eyes fell on her wound and inwardly panicked - it was much worse than she’d ever let on. Judging by the state of the bandages and the tremor in her limbs, she were close to being in shock - how she had managed to get this far was beyond them.

The radio crackled and they heard Price’s voice, “Evac is coming, stabilize her for the trip.” Simon’s eyes met Johnny’s and he instantly moved to retrieve clean bandages from his kit as Johnny searched for a stim shot. It would only keep her going for so long, perhaps just enough for her to be loaded onto the heli and into the hands of more capable field doctors.

Canary felt the sharp sting of the stim shot in her leg, and was moved back and forth as her wound was cleaned and the bandages changed. Her tongue felt more numb than before, though, and dark spots began clouding her vision. She knew it would be only a matter of time until she finally fainted.

“I-... I’m sorry,” she whimpered, barely loud enough for the other two to hear. She wasn’t quite sure why she wanted to apologize. Maybe for letting herself be taken like this, when she should’ve been stronger, or maybe for letting herself get this hurt. Perhaps for wanting to spend her medical leave off-base, or for going on that run.

Or maybe, it was for all that together, and more things she couldn’t quite remember at the moment.

She knew Johnny was saying something to her, but she couldn’t quite hear him. The ringing in her ears was too loud. The sounds around her felt like mud.

Her eyes were heavy, just like her chest - it was getting hard to even breathe. A nap sounded nice.

She made a sound where she felt the cold ground on her back - was it pain or relief? She wanted to sleep.

A hand was slapping her cheek. Just a nap, a short one.

The smell of her grandma’s cookies. The vintage sound of 80’s rock albums playing on her grandpa’s record player. Dancing in their living room. She should go and visit their graves before her next mission. She knew her parents didn’t, and would probably refuse to visit hers, too.

The stuttering sound of a helicopter’s blades.

Grandma and Grandpa would visit her grave. Simon and Johnny would, too. They would’ve all gotten along, if they had ever met. Grandpa was born in Manchester, like Simon. Grandma knew how to curse like a Scot because of her own parents. A big, noisy family dinner.

It was pretty dark. Just a short nap. The ringing in her ears was constant now, but slowly fading away.

“Canary, wake up!” Simon sounded scared. Why? She was fine.

Just… Just a nap.

“[Name]! Please!”

A/N: ... I-...

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