#simon riley fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sim0nril3y · 3 days

Text

Revenge

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: I'm sorry for this one, but just a silly little imagine after writing that angst. So, after smacking Simon's bum playfully he decides to find his own revenge which spirals chaotically. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), playful spanking, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, canon-typical swearing.

What was he going to prepare for dinner tonight? Simon was standing looking into the vast emptiness of the fridge, the empty shelves mocked him, the lonely jar of marmite smirked and jested whilst he stood there arms crossed, stance wide as if he was going to tackle the appliance any moment to try and find its secrets and hidden compartments.

From behind he heard you shuffling into the kitchen, placing down your long finished mug of tea and approaching him slowly. “Love-” Whack~ A rouge hand struck his butt making him jolt a little in surprise. It hadn’t hurt. The act alone had just shocked him into a stunned silence. From behind you cackled laughing, especially as he turned slowly to finally face you. “What?” You snickered, covering your mouth with your hand.

Those dark eyes of his narrowed, looking at you with a calculative glare, jaw set and muscles wound tight. “There’s nothing in the fridge.” He continued his long abandoned sentence before his rear had been struck. “I’m gonna order a take-away.” He bit out, before stepping around you. Realistically the only thing left on Simon’s mind was revenge.

It was a few evenings later after a steamy showered before bed when you were hanging up some clothes into the cupboard you shared. Now, shared was probably a loose term when it came to the cupboard, as a good portion of it was made up of your pretty dresses, skirts, trousers, blouses and jumpers a whole cascade of shoes beneath. Then shoved to the side was a measly bit of space for Simon’s clothing.

Thwhack! A sudden strike on your own rear sent you whole body hurdling forward into the cupboard, body pressed and clinging to the hanging clothes to keep your unbalanced body upright. “Ow!” You yelped; your voice muffled between the clothes. Turning your face and seeing Simon looming behind you, arms crossed and proud smirk on his face. “What the fuck?” You squeaked. “Just a little payback, love.”

As you leant there, your eyes widened. “For bloody what?!” You huffed, trying to push yourself up. “For smacking your bum like a week ago?!” You growled. “I didn’t send you headfirst into the fridge, Simon and I certainly didn’t smack you that hard…” You vented and this only caused him to chuckle. “It wasn’t that hard-” “It wasn’t soft either. I bet it’ll bruise…”

“Let me check.” The words came out quick and before you knew it Simon was tugging down your leggings and knickers to inspect your rear. “Simon!” You squeaked from inside the cupboard still, hands clinging to the fabric of your clothes, creasing them beneath your clenched fingers. “Simon…” You whimpered softly as you felt him kneel behind you, carefully taking the globes of your arse into his hands and stroking them softly. “You’ll be fine, love…” Simon mentioned, carefully pulling them apart, squeezing them, stroking them before placing a few stray kisses to the struck skin. “Want me to make it up to you, babe?”

From inside the cupboard you nodded, whimpering out a soft. “Yes, please.” “So polite…” Simon murmured, pulling carefully on your hips so that your arse stuck out a little further, placing a few kisses to the backs of your thighs, higher and higher causing you to squeak as his face dipped forward to find your soaked cunt, all pretty and leaking for him. “Fuck…” He growled, wanting to start slow and build up but simply unable to hold back as he got a taste of your wonderful juices. They were addictive to him. Once the first drop touched his tongue Simon craved more and more.

From where you were leaning awkwardly into the closet you could simply only cling to your clothes and accept the laps and presses of his tongue and mouth, moaning loudly as his hand slipped around your body to find your clit, massaging it beneath his fingers in tight circles. “Simon~ Simon~ Ohgod~” You cried in pleasure; it was like the air was thick as his hand smacked down playfully against your arse. “Please. Please. Fuck~”

The cry of his name only spurred him on more. Burying his face into your wonting cunt, growling and grunting as he sort to find your end. “There. There. Don’tstop. Don’t stop.” You panted, your body trembling as your end built and built. A second later Simon tugged away, smacking his hand against your rear and causing you to yelp in surprise. “Si, please. Please. Please… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for smacking your bum. I’m sorry. Please.” Without even having to press you for some sort of apology for your day old lapse in judgement you gifted him one, over and over. God, it was difficult to decide what sounded more pretty your beautiful moans or the sound of you succumbing to his will.

“Good girl. Good girl.” Simon smirked, spitting on your cunt and fucking a few fingers into your cunt, shunting the thick digits deep to find your special spot. “You won’t do it again, will you?” “Never. Neveragain. Never. Never.” You chanted, squirming as your knees knocked together from the sudden invasion. “Never. Promise. Pro-aghg…” The final promise caught in your throat your juices soaked his hand, something which Simon would happily clean up.

“There’s my good girl.” Simon chuckled. “There we go…” He coaxed, rubbing your lower back soothingly to coax you through the overwhelming waves of your orgasm. “Good girl. My good fucking girl-”

Now, if he had been able to hear over the sound of your panting and crying out and moans then he probably could have heard an ominous noise from within the cupboard, however that hadn’t been the case and instead was startled when the beam holding up hangers of clothes up cracked from having you probably hanging off it too as you clung to the clothes. It sent you toppling to the ground, clothes burying you on top of the shoes that lay at the bottom.

For a moment he knelt there completely taken back by your half naked body sticking from the cupboard under all that mess, then he acted and quickly tugged it all out of the way, finding your body beneath. “You okay, babe?” He asked quickly. “I’m so bloody good.” You whimpered; face completely dazed with lust.

Masterlist | Ask | 13-04-2024

269 notes · View notes

sinon36 · 3 days

Text

Husband!Ghost x teacher!reader HC

As I lay in bed, it's 5 am. My alarm is supposed to ring at 7 am. Insomnia hits again. So here we go! Enjoy the product of my foggy brain!

Warnings: fluff, some mentions of torture, curse words, insomnia, nightmares, threats, stalking but it's good natured, some mistakes ( grammar and spelling), interact at your own discretion.

When you first met it happened in the nonstop supermarket at intersection a couple blocks from his apartment. It was 3 am. You were looking for coloured paper, he was looking for Kentucky burbon.

Both couldn't sleep for very different reasons. He just got back from a long mission, unable to sleep in his own bed, his own apartment, not as familiar as the base, always bustling with activity. Jouse was too quiet. Eyes straining to hear something. Understimulated brain making up sounds, that turn to memories, yhen night terrors. He was out in search of relief, getting so drunk he'd pass out and get some shut eye.

You on the other hand were finishing up on materials for your little students. And then you needed coloured paper to finish. You huff and puff, and almost curse out but refrain from doing so, looking at your wrist watch you determine you have few hours until the school day begins. Do you trudge to the intersection, hopping, begging for mercy and coloured paper.

You were the only ones there beside the half asleep casheir. Your sound of triumf at having find what your looking for travels to the liquor aisle. Simon's eyes point in your direction, not really sure he actually heard it or halucinated it.

At the register you cut him off not even noticing his dark clad 6'3 body, whiskey bottle in hand. He lets out a 'bloody hell' almost whispered, but your teacher's instinct kick in. 'language' you'd said in a chastise voice eyes darting to fix him with a glare, the same you'd do to the children in class. But instead of a meagre 'apologies, miss' you get a grunt out of him. You glare some more and turn away, making a barely audible comment directed at him. Naturally he confronted you on that and you went on an gave him a lecture on how people like him make your work 10 times harder and how they are a bad example to future generation.

Both him and the casheir look at you like you'be grown two heads. Honestly, the young guy behind the cash register, thought you might start a fight with the grave yard shift regular wearing a balaclava and buying alchool well into the hours of morning.

But you didn't. After having said what you had to say you turned around on your heels, slaped the two packets of coloured paper in front of the young man and then angrily put the money in his outstreched hand. You left in a flurry of murmurs, not even acknowlodging the farewell words.

'feisty' he had commented eyes trailing on your debparting figure. He chuckled at your interaction. That day he drank himself into unconsciousness thinking of you, and your plush lips spewing insults in his face, eyes alight with passion, face scrunched in barely contained annoyance.

You were a primary school teacher, that much has gathered from your discourse. He wanted to see you again, and walking around aimlessly he came across the nearest school in the neighborhood. He started searching for your face behind closed windows. He had found you and waited for you, like the stalker that he'd turned into. He hopped you wouldn't call the cops on him.

As you neared the gates, two rows of 3rd year students behind you, loudly talking about how much fun they had with you. You laughed at their happy and springy attitude. They were the best students you've had ao far.

And then your eyes met brown ones in a staring match. You'd walked closer atarting to theeaten him to go before you got him removed. He smiled under his balaclava, eyes watching in admiration. 'let's grab dinner...' he interrupted you. 'huh?' that was the most articulate answer you could muster. 'I owe you a proper apology. So dinner on me.' He explained in chopped sentences the voice deep and laced with a Manchester accent.

You Forgot what you were saying and blushed hard smiling. You were so easly swooned by this stranger and his intrest in you. He could have been a killer or kidnapper. You threw caution to the wind. You said yes.

And now, now you were happily married, a couple years into it, actually. The house you bought is small but cosy. The living room table is always full of clippings of coloured paper and half finished materials strewn about. It's home for Simon.

He knows your busy with school work when he's deployed, so he doesn't worry about you missing him too much. But you do, and he misses you tenfold. So you make something for him, a little couloured origami frame that contains a picture of the two of you, for him to have. He carries it in his chest pocket, but only on base, where he knows its safe to do so. Being captured with personal things like this in his possesion could give the enemy leverage over him. He knows, he's an expert in interrogations techniques. But he doesn't tell you all this, he knows you're sensitive to violence. So he instead promises that he keeps it close to his heart, all the time. His lucky charm. You're enamoured with him and he basks in your love without shame.

To be continued...

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

115 notes · View notes

konigsblog · 5 hours

Note

Victim!Reader seeing and recognizing Rapist!Simion out in public, but he dosent recognize reader since their not covered in their own tears/spit/etc? Or pretending he has no idea who they are to fuck with them

tw: rape, non-con. MDNI 18+

oh, he'll definitely act confused to fuck with your head.

although you worry that you're mistaking the entire situation, a part of you feels terrified and horrified standing in front of this bastard. your stomach churns and your face drops at the realisation, trying to get out of the alleyway as fast as you possibly can.

you always manage to get yourself in stupid positions, where your life is in jeopardy and you're being threatened. your bottom lip quivers at the sight and familiarity, feeling guilty and worrying that you've just mistaken an innocent man as your rapist

although you were drunk when this happened, the memory was vivid and strong, replaying in your head to traumatise you. your eyes glisten while the sky darkens and the cold air nips at your bare skin, watching as simon begins to unfasten his belt and pull a pocket knife out. he holds it against your neck, pushing you against the dirty ground. the concrete is wet from manchester's cold weather, simon cutting your panties off swiftly. you're silenced, unable to moan or mutter a noise as simon begins to shove himself inside the familiar warmth of your drooling pussy.

his pace is ruthless, shaming and degrading you for being compliant with him. you don't even put up a fight, as if this is what you want, to be taken advantage of and raped violently, in a way that leaves your body sore, cunt latching onto him. your pussy is glossy, body reacting to what simon forces onto you. your jaw falls slack the sharpness of the knife against your neck, simon's harsh and deep thrusts knocking your body forward and closer against tee knife.

each stroke and drag leaves your body yearning for your orgasm, while your mind screams at you for getting yourself into this position. weeks of doubting yourself and believing you're mistaken only for it to be the disturbing and morbid truth.

84 notes · View notes

b33zlebubz · 10 hours

Text

RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER EIGHT

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3 PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks “Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past." CHAPTER CW: IMPLIED SEXUAL ASSAULT ((not from simon))

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016 NORWAY, 1400 HOURS

"You're movin' too much, still."

"You are quite literally breathing down my neck. Kinda hard not to."

"Yeah, well, get used to it, love. 'Cause at this point you're always gonna have someone looming over you."

You huff, unamused, and it clouds out in front of your face as you squint through the scope of an unloaded rifle. Gloved hands grip the machine as you focus the scope on a point far-off at the other end of the course.

Four hours you've been out here, now, running a sniping simulation. The rest of your squad was split up in pairs across the vast landscape. You were left as the odd one out and, seeing as Walker had originally planned to just stick you carelessly in with another group, Simon volunteered to partner with you instead. Keep things equal. Which basically—as your superior—meant he had an excuse to sit back and smoke while you did all the work.

The exercise was simple; climb the mountain, find your post, sit and keep watch for flags until the next team tags you out. A sniping exercise as well as a strength and conditioning one.

You both made quick work of the mountain, ice picks cracking against the ice. Simon never really considered himself the competitive type, partially because he never needed to be and partially because there was no point—he's worked hard to ensure he's always the biggest guy in the room. Today, though, something in your growing annoyance as he yelled down keep up, sergeant or watch your footing every time you lagged behind stirred something in you, which in turn stirred something in him. It quickly became something of a race.

When his pick slipped and you finally surpassed him as he skidded down a few meters, he heard your laugh for the first time against the wind. For some reason, it made him smile, too.

"I hate sniper duty," you grumble. "Don't know how you do it—sit in the snow for hours."

"Same way I put up with your whiny ass."

"And what's that?"

"Patience."

You roll your eyes, but your lip quirks up into a smile nonetheless. A sight he's grown more accustomed to over the course of the past couple days of training and conversation. He's helped you out in little ways, stopping by the shooting range to offer some constructive criticism as you practiced, offering dietary and training advice to get your strength up, sticking his neck out for you when he could around Walker…among other things. As it would turn out, you were good company. Whiny, maybe—but good company, nonetheless.

You were improving, too. Temperament and strength-wise. How much of it is due to his company rather than his guidance, though, he isn't sure.

"You're not funny," you retort.

"You complained the whole way up the mountain, love."

You huff and shoot him a look. "Did I get it done?"

"Affirmative."

"And did I beat you while doing it?"

He shrugs. "More or less."

"Then you should watch your mouth, Lieutenant."

His eyebrows raise, amused. "Is that a threat I hear?"

"It's a promise to beat you again sliding back down the mountain, sir."

He imagines you throwing yourself down the snow in order to beat your own speed record, and he chuckles a little at the thought. "I'd like to see you try, Angel."

You smile, gaze focused through the scope. You've spotted three flags already, and you spot two more as another hour passes. The team that's supposed to take your place is getting closer, Ghost thinks it'll be twenty minutes before they rendezvous, and you both make your way back for the day.

"Ghost."

"Angel," he exhales another cloud of smoke and vapor when you speak, breaking the comfortable silence that's washed over you both.

You maneuver awkwardly to position your hand behind you, opening and closing your fist a few times.

"Hand me one of those," you say, your breathing puffing out into the freezing air. "And my lighter."

He shakes his head with an amused smirk. "You're supposed to be focusing."

"Can't focus if my hands are shaking."

"And what if this is a real scenario? You're not gonna have cigarettes in a life-or-death situation, sergeant."

"Yeah, well, you do," you flex your hand again. "So gimme."

He figures you're the only Sergeant on base he'd let order him around, but he doesn't let that thought take root in his mind. Instead, he shifts closer so that he's lying on his stomach next to you in the snow.

"Keep still," he tells you, plucking a cigarette from his pack. "You miss a flag Walker won't let me hear the end of it."

You seem slightly surprised, but you don't say anything as he slots himself next to you. He offers you the cigarette as you keep your gaze in the scope, and you use your free hand to slot it between your lips before he lights it. You inhale slowly, and he watches your lips as you do so; watches the tips of your fingers through the clipped tips of the gloves he gave you and watches you exhale. When he looks up, you're already looking at him. He's close enough to see where snow clings to your lashes.

A beat passes where you both just stare at each other. Simon finds he can't read your expression. Then, you shake your head and clear your throat, which in turn snaps him out of his daze, before you take another drag and lock your focus in once more.

"Another flag," you say, your brow furrowed. "At your twelve o' clock. About four kilometers out."

Simon shifts, putting some space between you both as he clears his throat because fuck. What the hell was that?

"Copy that."

You're quiet for the rest of the exercise, only speaking whenever you spot another flag. For some reason, Simon still finds himself fixed on the cigarette in your hand as you work.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016 NORWAY, 1800 HOURS

Whenever both return to the base, there's a lot of whispering. He doesn't notice, at first, too busy sorting equipment and putting it away. You don't notice the lingering stares or the hushed voices either; or you're just pointedly ignoring them. Sorting through your own gear nearby, you're quiet, and you're done and ready before he's even folded his snowsuit. Nevertheless, Simon doesn't pay much mind to the name being whispered around until he can put the face to it.

Roger's Back.

Now, if there is one thing Simon isn't—it's humble. After years of hard work he's managed to pack on an impressive amount of muscle, taking him from a lanky, malnourished teen to the legend he was now. Not since Roba has he ever had an issue taking down anyone with the same experience, or sometimes more, than him. He's made sure of that and intends to keep things that way.

That is, until Simon happens to lift his head and peer down the hall towards someone he, for once, doesn't have to look down to meet the gaze of.

He's massive, is Simon's first thought. The same height as him, he wagers the bloke might be the only lower-ranked soldier here who actually matches his strength enough to maybe have the upper hand in a fight.

Simon's second thought is that bloody hell.

There's a long scratch across the man's cheek and the remains of a bruise around that of an eyepatch. There's a still-healing gash on the side of his head, scar tissue fresh and thick on the temple of a shaved head, flesh stretched inward from staples freshly removed.

Ah. Roger. The sergeant who's skull you cracked against the edge of a bar.

The man approaches you from behind and Simon stops in his tracks just down the hall, eyes flitting over to watch the scene unfold in the corner of his eye.

Keeping his face hidden had its cons, sure. Maybe he did nearly suffocate himself every time he sweat his ass off in the desert. Maybe underwater tasks were difficult and maybe he had to jump through all kinds of hoops to avoid getting his picture taken. In hiding his own emotions, however, he's become quite good at reading the body language of others.

And you're uncomfortable. Tense. Ready to bite at a moment's notice.

You stand rigid still as you sense his presence, your back to the man as he approaches lazily to stand behind you. Some words are exchanged. You, biting retorts that just barely count as professional and him…standing too close for comfort.

You hold your ground. You don't punch first—just like Simon told you. He watches the man's lips move, reads the threat that crosses his lips. Still, you hold your ground as Simon's fists clench and he realizes what's happening—why you punched first. Why you're struggling and why you put your training on halt for leave.

Next time, the man says. Next time, you're not getting away so easily, bird.

Simon watches you think about it. He watches your hands ball into fists, watches your eyes narrow and your nose scrunch with disgust. But you don't move, no—you don't shrink away in fear and you don't immediately go for the kill. You stand your ground just as Simon told you to.

You do so until the man looks away first, sauntering off. Simon watches you let out one breath, then another, before you grab your pack in a shaking hand and sling it over your shoulder. His eyes linger on you as you quickly leave the room, barely noticing how Roger approaches him to introduce himself.

It's not until the door shuts behind you that Simon grabs the young Sergeant by the front of his shirt and slams him against the wall. Roger lets out a startled yelp.

"You lay another finger on her," he snarls. "And I'll fuckin' cut it off, Sergeant, you copy?"

Roger's eyes are wide. The breath knocked from his lungs, he's panting, and his mouth opens and shuts again in shock.

"I said do you copy?"

"Yes—yes, sir. Copy and check."

Satisfied that his warning is taken seriously, Simon turns him loose with a hissed, "piss off."

Roger stumbles. Disoriented, he continues down the hallway, and Simon is still seething as his boots carry him down a wrong turn to Walker's office.

He doesn't walk out until your safety is guaranteed.

#simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #cod #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #ghost fanfiction #simon riley fanfic #ghost x reader #cod ghost #simon riley

34 notes · View notes

empresskylo · 4 months

Text

simon ‘ghost’ riley is a light sleeper. he’s so well trained to be on high alert that even when he’s not on duty he wakes at the smallest sound.

sometimes you’ll get up in the middle of the night and he immediately sits up. “you alright?” he slurs.

you make a small sound of discomfort or wiggle a little too much and his head is turning on the pillow, his eyes on you. and he always asks if you’re okay. you’ve told him he’s being silly and sometimes you just have to get up to go to the bathroom, but you gave up on telling him that—he’s adamant on checking on you.

and anytime he wakes up, no matter where the disturbance comes from, he’s looking over to your side of the bed to make sure you’re okay first.

and if you ever do need him in the middle of the night, all you have to do is whisper his name. he opens his eyes almost immediately and instinctively tightens his arm around you. “everythin’ alright?”

and one time you couldn’t sleep. your face was buried in his chest as he clung to you, the soft rumble of his snores letting you know he was knocked out. you didn’t want to wake him, but you were crying. you barely even moved as you teared up into his chest. suddenly, his hands squeezed you tighter. “whats’a matter?” he coos softly.

you tilt your head up to him teary eyed. “i didn’t mean to wake you.”

he clicks his tongue. “tell me what’s wrong, baby.” his hand gently caressing your face, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear.

and he’s so protective. if you roll over and out of his hands he’s quick to pull you back into his grip. he likes having his hands on you while he’s sleeping. it makes him feel more secure knowing you’re okay.

when you fall asleep together on the sofa, your body pressed to his, his arms are wrapped around your waist, clutching you closely against him. it doesn’t even matter if he’s too warm, he wants you touching him at all times whenever he’s asleep.

it’s gotten to the point where he can barely sleep when he’s not with you. without you safely in his arms, without being able to physically feel you under his fingertips, it continuously wakes him up. he’s lucky to get two hours in a row without waking.

post that inspired this | my cod masterlist

#ghost #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #mw3 #ghost mw3

13K notes · View notes

sweetnothingtm · 2 months

Text

♡ i imagine that Simon Riley is the type to spoil you rotten ♡

Simon doesn’t check his bank statements anymore - just hands you his card and plants a sloppy kiss on your smiling face.

Simon carries all your shopping bags without hesitation, even while you drain him of his worth. He scrolls his phone while you shop aimlessly, his eyes lazily dragging to your frame as you showcase what you want while he waves a hand at you.

yes - anything you want. yes - i mean it, sweetheart.

He follows you like a lost dog through the stores, practically begging for your attention as you wiggle your ass into a million different outfits.

I bet he takes you to all the lingerie stores. It’s his favorite part of the day, squeezed into a changing room as you strip in front of him. He always has a devious smirk, latching the stall lock into place as you hang up every scrap of fabric.

You’d twirl around in a tight lace, lip caught between your teeth as Simon palms himself through his jeans. He’d stare at you, eyes glowing with desire as you innocently checked yourself out and hummed.

do you like it? how do i look?

you look good enough to let me fuck you right now. matter of fact - bend over for me, sweetheart.

Simon would press you up against the mirror, dick pressed against your ass with his breath fanning against your neck. His teeth would graze against your skin, little whimpers coming from your lips as you roll your hips.

His fingers would press into your waist, digging into the silk panties with a price tag hanging off of them. $45 - damn expensive for a pair, but he considered you priceless.

When he inevitably ruins the fabric by cumming all over it, you’d have a little pout spread across your face. He’d roll his eyes, promising you another pair and splaying a hand against your ass while his camera clicks for a photo.

you look too fucking good, might just have to fuck you again when we’re home. you’d like that - wouldn’t you little slut?

Simon Riley would shrug his shoulders when the sales person would ask why theres panties in the trash. He’d swipe his card, hardly looking at the bill as he picked up another bag and watched you glow with happiness.

He always buys you dinner, opens every door for you, and slings his jacket around your shoulders. His hand always rests on your thigh when he drives, fingers tracing delicate shapes on your soft skin.

When he looks over to you, you’re already glowing with adoration and love - a twinkle in your eye as he squeezes your leg and hums.

did you like the gifts, princess? i spoil you huh?

6K notes · View notes

endotwrites · 3 months

Text

simon takes up a lot of space

cw: gn reader, insecurity surrounding physical appearance

a/n: i’m running out of ideas to write about so gimme some time to think mwah 🥹

simon sometimes forgets he takes up so much space. he’ll reach for something across from him only to knock something else off the table. or he’ll try and tiptoe down the stairs for a sneaky cigarette only for the stairs to groan under his weight.

sometimes, simon wishes he could manoeuvre in a way that no one would even realise he was there. like a ghost, drifting through the hallways instead of a 6’4 man with the broadest shoulders known to man.

when simon sits with his thoughts and prays to whoever will listen to just make him the slight amount smaller, you’re there to remind him how much you adore him.

all of him.

his large biceps that encapsulates the whole of you when you pout at him for a bear hug. his wide back that he lets you sit on when doing push ups. his soft stomach that have stretch marks similar to your own.

teaching one another to love themselves for who they are was always a massive part of your relationship and as much as simon reminds you that he will love you no matter what, you are always there to say the same for him.

even if he takes up 3/4 of your bed.

#endot writes #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod modern warfare #cod #cod x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley fanfic #ghost x reader #ghost drabble #ghost mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw3 #call of duty #endot sfw

7K notes · View notes

yawnderu · 3 months

Text

''Cold and detached Simon'' this, ''rude and distant Simon'' that, give me a Simon that was made for soul-crushing devotion.

Simon Riley, who dreads every moment away from you and the only thing he wants to do is to come back home to be back in your warm embrace.

Simon Riley, who never planned anything for the future, yet he finds himself looking up land in the English countryside while you're asleep next to him.

Simon Riley, who brings you souvenirs crafted for you by locals of every country he visits, always paying more than extra because no amount of money will ever compare to your pretty smile when he brings you something new.

Simon Riley, who holds your hands when you're making love, hips rolling slowly into yours while he rubs your engagement ring, face buried on the crook of your neck and mind completely blank, fully lost in how good your tight cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

5K notes · View notes

sketchyfandomgirl · 2 months

Text

Simon “Ghost” Riley who gets terrible acne when he goes for days on end without taking his mask off. He gets so sweaty and gross that when it finally come off, Simon has a terrible breakout and it can take days to clean it all up.

That’s why he turns to you, probably the only other member of 141 who has a good skin care other than Gaz, but he won’t let the kid know he’s got acne.

He also trusts you more to find something that agrees with his skin and even goes on a shopping trip with you to pick out something he might like, and a few others to try with your expertise. The man is so confused reading every label as you work through the aisles like it’s the back of your hand. It makes his head dizzy thinking about it too much.

And no Simon, do not pay too much attention to the bunny ears headband, it’s not that important, look at this clay mask instead! It’ll help with pores!

When it’s all over, it’s almost as if you bought half the self care aisle back to base, but it’s for the greater good! Plenty of creams, pore strips, face masks, clay masks, lotions and even a roller with oil to make the face feel fresh!

It’s a whole evening helping Simon find what’s best for him. He complains soooooo much about the steamer, but you hush him and say it’ll be worth it. Maybe give him some snacks to appease him as he roasts his face for his health! And yes, he is wearing the bunny headband to keep his curls out of the way.

Simon takes a backseat as you do your magic applying the creams and clay mask to his face. Yes, there is a difference between the creams and masks Simon!

He definitely asks you to explain what you’re putting on his face and what it does. He wants to learn! Simon isn’t simply there for you to take care of him lies, he’s totally enjoying the attention

Play a movie and the man is comfy in his seat as you pamper and fuss over him, cleaning him up of that icky acne :(

The cherry on top of this delicious sundae is when you bully Simon out of his seat to sit on the floor, stealing his spot and positioning him to sit between your legs. Laying him to lean against your chair, you massage the oil into his face, using the roller to run across his face. He almost moans in appreciation as your fingers work their magic, rubbing his cheeks, jaw and forehead with great care to make his eyes flutter shut. It’s so comforting he falls into a lull of sleep and you don’t even realize it until you hear a gentle snore.

What a wonderful day for self care. Maybe Simon will make sure to dirty his face again for another day like this.

#he needs some self care :(#call of duty ghost #call of duty #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #headcanon #cod fanfic #cod fic #simon riley x you #simon riley fluff #simon riley fanfic

6K notes · View notes

callofdutysimpsstuff · 5 months

Text

ghost would love having a housewife-

being able to love you is enough for him, and yet he still gets to come home to home cooked meals? and a cute decorated house? that man is folding.

he’d open the door and spot you in the kitchen, your hair falling perfectly around your face, aroma of the dish making the whole house smell good. he doesn’t say a word just rushes over to you and pulls you into a deep kiss.

it still takes you by surprise even though his reaction is a regular occurrence. you’ve just never met anyone as passionate as him.

ghost who is obsessed with calling you his wife, most of all in bed.

“yeah, love? that feel good? is my pretty little wife gonna cum?”

“what does my wife need, hm? need me to make you numb like last time? yeah, that’s what i thought.”

you try to respond, but you’re squeezed around him so tight, anything that leaves your mouth us incomprehensible.

#requests are open #simon riley #ghost simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #simon riley fanfic #simon riley fic #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you

7K notes · View notes

chaosandmarigolds · 11 hours

Text

In Pre-K I liked to imagine that Simon signed Ollie up for a lot of extra things, swimming karate soccer and all that because he quickly learned that you were NOT lying about how high energy that kid is

And so he’s bringing you your lunch (a routine, you may forget it and he would bring it your summertime workplace during your 30 minute break with Ollie to say hi)

And Ollie is wearing his little karate uniform and you’re just like ??

“Where’d you get that baby?”

“Special kicking place store.”

“Special…” your voice trails off and you look to Simon, who is very unconcerned about it and eating his food, “Simon.”

He looks up to his name.

“Did you sign Olls up for karate?”

“Two free lessons.”

You stare at him for a minute and then Ollie to get a refill of his drink, once the kid was out of earshot you lean over the table and whisper, “I don’t have the money for that! Now he’s going to be-“

“I’ll pay for it.”

“Simon-“

“No, I have all this money from the military ‘n nothing to do with it. I’ll do it.”

You sit back in the seat, “I can’t ask that of you.”

“Oh damn. So sad.”

Before you had the chance to reply Ollie came back with the comically large drink in his hands, beaming up at you.

(Annnnny way, that’s all! <333)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley fanfic #cod x you #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #ghost x you #ghost imagine #ghost fanfiction #fluff cod #xfem!reader #dad!ghost #dad!simon riley #coco’s pre k universe! <3 #coco’s chaos <3

193 notes · View notes

sinon36 · 3 days

Text

Simon Riley x biker!reader HC (neutral reader)

Warnings: short drabble written during the commute to uni, mistakes (as per usual), riding without a helmet (please wear appropriate protection when engaging in dangerous activities), bikers being hot as f..., you can't change my mind

Enjoy

- you cut him in traffic one day, he has to press hard on the brakes to avoid you, a stream of curses leaving his covered mouth

- he gives chace after you, in a moment of unexepected road rage, so rare to see such raw display of emotion from the mountain of a man

- he catches up to you at a gas station

- he comes toward you with full intent on ripping you a new one

- you take your helmet off and tilt your pretty head in amusement

- he loses it on you

- you just laugh in his face 'bloody right I did. You drive like an old lady'

- he's stunned, never had he get this kind of reaction from anyone, except his colleagues in 141, who are like brothers to him

- he knows he's intimidating

- he knows he could twist your pretty neck right there and there

- but your stance is countering all his desire for violence

- your hands rest on your hips, head tilted, weight rested on one foot, as if to say 'you done?'

- he gets silent, panting with annoyance and adrenaline from earlier

- you huff a laugh and leave him there as you walk inside to pay and buy a snack

- when you return you find a small white piece of rectangular paper

- he left you his number followed by a small drawing of a skull

- you huff a small laugh the audacity

- but you take it and put it in your breast pocket and ride off

- you send him a message

- it's the emoji of a red motorcycle 🏍️

- you don't get a reply until weeks later

- it's the skull emoji 💀

- you smile at that, but don't indulge him anymore

- he has your number now, he can make a move if he wants, you're done chasing after men

- and a move he makes

- another message follows a month later

- no greeting, no sweet talk, just some coordinates and a date and time, little skull at the end

- you grin, it's on, old man

- you meet him there

- there being the most beautiful place in the British isles

- a parking lot at the curve of the road, high up on the hillside

- the city sparkles in the distance

- you seat with him at the wooden bench and table

- you talk, it's a forth an back, light banter fills the night air

- he's not putting pressure on you, he just enjoys your presence

- it's refreshing

- you depart on the promise that you'll see each other again, when he's in town

- a while passes until you meet again

- it's as unexpected as the firs time

- he's just leaving base quietly listening to his colleagues plans for the off time they got

- you're riding your bike stopping at the red light in the intersection

- your bent over position and tight leather suit catch the attention of the men

- one of them, a tall bulky Scott sporting a close-cropped mawhawk whistles in apreciation

- the engine rumble and the music in your earphones prevent you from hearing the lewd sound

- simon spots imediately, eyes shrouded in recognition, an infenetly small change that other wise anyone would overlook

- Johnny has a keen eye and a fascination with his Lt. Making him much more interested in noticing such traitorous change in the stoic man's posture

- Johnny starts commenting on the hooked stare to your form, Kyle's attention piques at that

- but the comment dies on his lips as you turn, visor pointed at the group

- and then you wave at them, at Simon, but the two sergeants don't know that

- not until the massive shadow moves toward you ignoring his companions protests, brown eyes glued to you

- the moment he gets near your bike you pat the seat behind you

- Simon barely has time to get his feet on the stands, grabbing your waist by instinct, which, due to his far taller stature makes him fold his body flush against yours, one hand on the gas rezervoir and one hand snaked around your stomach

- the light turns green and you turn the acceleration lurching you forward

- both Johnny and Kyle remain dumbfounded at the events witnessed, not quite believing the reality at this point

- they turn to look at eachother, shock plastered on their handsome faces

- 'steaming jesus' the utterance hangs in the air

- they will make their personal mission to find out more about the mysterious rider that just whisked their superior from under their noses

#ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley headcanons #biker

73 notes · View notes

konigsblog · 5 hours

Note

Reader seduces stepbro simon not because he’s attractive in fact she finds him ugly and creepy but because after every sexual favor he gives her his wallet

tw: stepcest. 🔞

your stepbrother is completely oblivious to the fact that you aren't into him. you see this as a short-term thing, something to make quick money. although simon believes that you're committed to him, that you want his babies and to be impregnated by him.

you'll do whatever he wants in return for his wallet. simon makes good money being in the military, but because he's creepy, and an introverted loser, he doesn't spend his money on anything, aside from new toys to use on his sweet stepsister. you'll jerk him off and swallow his bitter tasting cum, the disgusting taste lingering afterwards. you always feels so ashamed and dirty afterwards, rewarding yourself with a shopping spree to make yourself feel better for doing something so depraved and deranged.

he's always eager to see the things you bought and the new outfits, so he can grope you in them, admire you. it's perverted for a stepbrother to be this close with his stepsister, but you're addictive, like a drug to simon.

why would he go look for someone else when he has you right here with him? now, you're just wondering how you'll explain that you're not committed to him like that. :(

#orla speaks #tw: stepcest #cod x reader smut #cod x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #call of duty ghost #cod ghost #ghost #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon riley headcanons #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x you #simon riley fanfic #simon riley imagine

132 notes · View notes

secretlovezz · 5 months

Text

Simon coming home to you cuddled up into yourself on the couch, reading a book that looks like it has at least five hundred pages (he doesn't know how you do it), and wearing his clothes.

You're wearing his clothes.

Something surges through his large frame and he realizes just how in love with you he is, how much he adores having this domestic life with you when he returns home. His hands start to shake and suddenly he's moving quickly to discard his boots from his feet and his jacket from his broad shoulders.

You look up from the pages you had been briefly lost in to see your lover as he walks closer to you. Your smile is bright at the sight of him and he swears his heart starts beating impossibly fast in his chest, you always made him feel like a teenager falling in love every time he was close to you.

"Hi baby," Simon tries to hide the way his lips twitch upwards at the sound of your voice. You close your book move it to the side and reach your arms out toward him. His shoulders shake with a silent chuckle at your grabby hands aimed at him.

When he reaches you he practically melts into your body. You're devastatingly warm against his cold exposed skin and he audibly groans at the feeling of being pressed against you.

You wordlessly move your hands to the base of his neck to remove his balaclava then run your fingers through his hair making an effort to scratch at his scalp which only has him groaning again.

"Ya look good in my clothes," He whispers into the crook of your neck his lips brush gently against your skin and it makes you shiver.

"Mm knew you'd like that," your voice is filled with amusementand you smirk.

His head pops up to look into your eyes and he glares but the smallest of smiles grace his scarred lips.

"Don't go teasin'," you laugh a soft laugh and he relaxes back into you.

He loves this, just being with you. It makes everything worth it the hours of grueling work just so he could get home to you, his little dove.

And for some reason, seeing you in his clothes makes it all the better.

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

8K notes · View notes