Simon Riley Imagine - Tumblr Posts

Okay okay !! We're just bit behind on Angst and two requests then we're good !!

Also UPDATED!! <3

Simon ‘ghost’ Riley Masterlist

Serial killer!Simon x fem!reader [ 18+] violence, gore themes, sexual themes, possesive!ghost, blood.

Simon gets a call from sleepy!gf while he's at work.

Simon comes home to you, with bruised knuckles and a heavy smug grin.

Simon loves you but he has his own secrets, like the man in the basement.

Miserable! Simon Riley meets sweet! Missus

Clingy! Simon Riley wants your attention

Shy! Simon Riley meets pretty! missus.

Period rambling: Simon being best bf

Take a look at my gf trend with Simon [ 18+]

Simon who takes care of himself for you

Biker! Simon x wife!reader having riding lessons [ 18+ ]

Simon doesn't give a fuck but for you, he's a mother hen

Simon Riley and how I met your mother [ 18+]

Simon discovers Mrs.Riley's choking kink [18+]

Mrs. Riley is such a tease in her red dress, Simon teaches a lesson [ 18+ ]

Simon who can't say no to you

Simon being Sweetheart and Mrs. Riley being drunk in love ( crack drabble <3 )

Brother's best friend! Simon x f! reader [ 18+] one para → pinked

© All rights reserved to @skyrigel, I do not grant any permissions to translate, copy or plagiarise my work on other sites. Please write your own.

MDNI

Just obsessed Simon Riley growling like a madman, chasing poor little you through the woods like the predator he is.

Even though he’s far faster than you are, and he could have you in his claws within seconds, he lets you think you can escape him; till he gets bored, hungry, and he speeds up just enough to pounce on you.

He grins at the squeal that comes out of you when you realize there’s truly no escape, he thinks you sound just like a little bunny, ready to get feasted on.

And feast he does, as he roughly turns you over, pulling up your hips while keeping a mean hand on your nape, bending your pretty little body to his will.

He bunches your skirt up, tugs your panties down just enough, and chuckles deeply.

“Look at that,” he lowly mutters under his breath, not surprised at all to find your pussy all wet and sticky.

“You like this, baby? Yeah?” he taunts you, cursing as he parts your shiny lips, inspecting your pretty little hole, clenching and throbbing and certainly too fucking tiny for his cock.

But it was too late now; he needed you, he craved you too bad to let you go now.

He deserves this, he thinks. He’s been looking from afar for so long, behaving and keeping you safe unbeknownst to you. He deserved a little reward, right?

With that self reassurance in mind, he dives right in, suffocating himself between your plush thighs.

Oh, he definitely deserved this.

He eats you out, eats you up, like your pussy is the best thing he’s ever tasted; and it is, truthfully.

His tongue glides all over your slit, playing with your swollen little clit for a bit before diving into your leaking hole again, groaning into your pussy as your walls clamp down on his muscle.

“Mhh yeah grind those hips, baby. Make a fuckin’ mess on me, sweet slut” he growls, keeping up his efforts till he feels your sweet cum on his tongue and your squirt all over his face.

He pulls away, panting, licking his lips and committing your taste to memory. When you slowly raise your head, he’s quick to pin it down again, wrapping his paw around the back of your neck, pushing your pretty face into the dirty ground.

He leans over your body, “Gonna let me fuck you open, yeah? ‘M gonna feed your greedy pussy jus’ like it craves” he whispers in your ear, his breath hot and his voice so deep it makes your cunt throb uncontrollably.

The slap he delivers to your clit lets you know that he knows how hot this get you, and his mean chuckle reaffirms that.

“Gonna reach right up in your tummy, girl” he growls, leaning back and unbuckling his pants. “I’ll cum right here” he mumbles under his breath, almost to himself, tenderly running your hand over your belly,

“Fuck, I’ll fill you up so much baby, I promise. You’ll forget what being empty feels like.”

His words echo in your mind as he fucks you silly, his thick cock stretching your soft hole to his limits, his heavy balls slapping right against your clit with each mean thrust.

His tip kisses your cervix every time he bottoms out, feeding your hungry hole every inch of him, his thumb occasionally rubbing and teasing at your puckered little butthole.

He fucks you so good, he renders you soft and pliant, like putty in his hands, making indents in your hips as he fills you up with his thick cum, not letting a single drop go to waste.

He can’t wait to see you grow round with his babe <3

—————————————————————————————

so yeah……….

Hi honey! I don't know if u r taking requests right now but if you do I have one. Can you make a standalone where Ghost and F/reader are together for like 1/2 year(s) and she is always like really nervous around Ghost and can't look him in the eye for too long because she is really shy and Ghost kind of like the effect he has on her. Something along that way :)

Thank you so much and have a great day!!🤍

ɞ - 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑠

𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑛 "𝑔𝚑𝑜𝑠𝑡" 𝑟𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠- 𝚑𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑? 𝑔𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ( 𝑖 𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑚𝑏 𝑖𝑓 𝑛𝑜𝑡) 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑎?? 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑙

𝑤𝑐: 830

𝑎/𝑛: 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑞!!!! 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑙 𝑖 𝑎𝑚 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑏𝑚𝑏. 𝚑𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𖠌

anyone would be nervous if a 6’4 buff military man locked eyes with you. right? possibly- but does knowing him for 4 years make it any better? does dating for two of those years help? nope. looking this hunk of a guy in the eyes didn’t get any less nerving, even after knowing him for so long.

the way he trapped you under your gaze made you nervous. it made your fingers drum against your cargo pants -it made your heavy boots tap on the concrete. he must know, he gave it away by the way he held his stare- not daring to look away. he knew it made you nervous- he knew it made you weak in the knees. maybe if you could look him in the eyes for longer, you’d see the glimmer in them when your eyes drifted down and your face went hot.

the first time he noticed- it was a team briefing. you were sat across from him, he was looking at you- as always- and he began to zone out. he admired your face- your beauty. the way you chewed on your cheek in concentration as you listened carefully to the orders price was giving out . he was lucky to have someone like you in his life. someone to trust, someone to kiss, someone to hug.

at first- he didn’t notice he was staring at you. but when price slammed something onto the table - most likely harder than he intended to - it snapped him out of his trace. he was confused- to say the least- he didn’t understand the ways your eyes were darting all over the place… until he did.

your fingers - which were resting against the table - were fighting against each other and your knee was bouncing at a particular pace. he knew it was yours- the table was rocking and soap - who was sitting on his right -  was completely still. as for gaz, he was sat, on a chair, away from the table, why? god knows - but that left you.

 he understood now- you were nervous. why? because you were caught under his gaze.

that moment, he was thankful for the mask. it hid the smirk on his face. well- not that you could look for long enough to see it. he was still staring at you- he realised. maybe he should stop. let you focus. so he, thoughtfully, looked away- though not before taking one last glance, just for fun.

the second time, he’d actually forgotten. you were all cramped into a little plane, on the route to a mission. soap was squashed up beside you, practically locking you into the wall. ghost, however, was facing you, the tip of his boots pressed against yours. he was looking at soap, who was waffling about god knows what- it was always hard to keep up with what the scot was saying.

you- were also listening. just not so intensely. you didn’t bother to turn your body to look at soap, you couldn’t, he had you trapped against the wall. so, you had to look straight ahead. right at ghost.

you did your best to avoid his eyes. you stared at the wall of the plane, his vest, the badge on his jacket - hell even his gun. but you found yourself staring back into his eyes. you loved his eyes- you did, even if it didn’t seem like it. you loved the way they sparkled in the sunlight- the way they lit up when you walked into a room. but you just couldn’t maintain eye contact.

he tried to listen to soap- for a change - he really did, but eventually, the man became a buzzing in his ears. so he turned his attention back to you. as soon as his eyes began to move, so did yours. you looked away as quickly as possible- deciding the marks on the floor were much more interesting to look at.

ghost, although hidden by the mask, raised an eyebrow at this. again, he didn’t understand why. he racked his brain for the memory or the reason. oh. right.

the corners of his lips perked up, and he kicked his foot against your boot. he watched your eyebrows furrow, and your teeth gnaw at your bottom lip. he kicked again, and again until you were forced to look at him. he was having far too much fun for a man about to head onto the battlefield.

you- on the other hand. god, this was the furthest thing from fun you could imagine. he was your boyfriend for christ’s sake. you hoped he would never notice. the height difference between you two always meant you stared directly at his chest and you almost always sat next to him. maybe you cold try look at him, just once more.

so the next minute- you were staring right into his eyes. maybe a couple of seconds passed, you could already feel your face getting hot, your fingers start to twitch against your knee. fuck sake. you caved in again, looking away. 

and you swear you heard the faintest sound of a deep chuckle come from him.

Scent

Alpha!Simon Riley x Omega!Reader

Warning: non-explicit smut. 

Summary: Building nests was part of the process of an Omega going into heat. However you never actually thought you would find yourself locked away in a house with your Lieutenant.

To say that the mission has gone to shit would be an understatement.

They were hunting you down and if it wasn't for Ghost, you would be dead by now.

If it wasn't for him and his sharp reflexes you would be lying with a bullet in your skull.

But you weren't.

Instead, you were in a much worse situation.

At the start of your mission, you took your suppressants, figuring you would be back the next day, you didn't even pack any, so now, you were here, on an uncomfortable mattress, trying to make it homey for your heat.

You never actually minded going into heat. You could just lock your door, fill your room with food and be good for a couple of days.

But this was a very different situation.

You were in a bunker-like building, hiding for survival with an Alpha who was also your Lieutenant. 

Not a situation you wanted to be in.

"You need to rest, I will keep watch." he avoided you, and didn't even come close to you, he just stopped at the door, never entering the room. He did put food down for you on the floor every day, commenting when you didn't eat something.

He was kind.

You knew he could smell your heat coming up, Alphas always did.

You know the upcoming days will be as much of a torture for him, as it will be for you.

You were glad it was Ghost with you, at least he had control over his alpha.

Before you could reply, he already left. Going as far away from you as possible. Yet, your smell still lingered. 

Sure, Simon had control over his alpha, but the temptation was too great. You were perfect. In every aspect of the word. The perfect woman, partner, and omega.

At first, Simon thought you had no place in the army, he thought Price had gone insane but you proved him wrong.

Your kindness wasn't your weakness, instead your strength. 

Simon took a deep breath, his mind and body immediately filled up with your scent, and how sweet you smelled. Simon, out of frustration, hit the wall, making the brick crumble.

He knew he should be there with you, help you, and yet, he was forcing himself away from you. 

Even if everything inside him was screaming for him to go to you, help you, feed you, and keep you safe and comfortable.

He knew he can't.

The next day he brought you another plate of food. 

"Ghost..." your voice came out way too desperate. "Can I have your shirt, please? The smell of the... pillows are..." Simon didn't need to be asked twice. He handed you his sweatshirt in a swift movement. "Thank you." he watched as you cuddled up with his clothes and he couldn't help but wish it was him. He forced himself to stand up and leave.

His scent really did help ease your pain as your heat reached its high. 

Your mind is filled with all the different lewd things. 

And yet, somehow, even with a hazy mind, even with a fog before your eyes, deep down, you knew better than to act upon those images filling your mind.

But you didn't know how to keep your scent at bay, not like there was a method or something. 

And it caused quite an interesting reaction with Simon.

While you were locked in a room, touching yourself to the thought of an Alpha, he kept stroking his cock to the scent and thought of you. 

You both knew it was forbidden, but no one was around, no one could hear your thoughts and your moans.

And for now, it was enough.

---

Thankfully, your heat soon ended, Simon got used to your smell as it slowly weakened. 

You started to grow stronger, and back to normal, but it will take you a couple of days to be fully back in action.

Simon knew this.

"How are you feeling?" he asked from the doorway, while you lay on the mattress on the floor.

"Your smell disappeared," you said with a pout as you looked at him.

"I will give you my shirt then, let's exchange." he said as he held out his shirt for you to take, you gave him the sweatshirt back.

His shirt smelled like you now. 

"We will have to leave in a few days, we have been here for almost a week now. We cannot stay, they will find us."

"I will be good to go tomorrow. I'm still a bit hazy though," you said and Simon nodded.

"How can I help more?"

"You have done plenty, Simon." use never used his name before, it was always Lieutenant or Ghost, nothing more, nothing less. 

You kept it professional. Until now.

"I will bring you more food for dinner, so you can have your strength back."

"Thank you, Alpha." you whispered the last part, but he heard you.

God, he heard you very well. As the door closed behind him, he just stood there, too stunned to move. Everything in him screamed to go inside and to claim you.

But he couldn't. He shouldn't.

And yet, he did.

He turned right back, opened the door and for the first time in four days, he stepped inside, closing the door behind himself.

He looked at you as you lay with his shirt pressed into your face, smelling it.

He knelt down beside you, taking deep breaths to remember your scent.

You opened your eyes and smiled at him.

"Took you long enough." you said as you moved to turn around and leave some space behind yourself.

"Shut it." he whispered before he moved to lay down with you in your nest, holding you close with his nose in your hair. "Omega." he said and it made you humm. "You smell so good." he took a deep breath and you smiled to yourself, not opening your eyes.

You put your hand on his which held you close by your stomach.

"You could have been here for my heat."

"I wouldn't have been able to control myself."

"Of course, you would have. You are Simon Riley... What made you realize that I wanted you here all along?"

"Your smell had a hint of sadness every day. But when I came into the room... you smelled like hope and..."

"Love." you finished for him. "Am I truly that obvious?"

"The smell of an Omega never lies to an Alpha."

"You are right, I'm a lot happier as well."

"Same."

"I wish we didn't have to leave."

"Same." he breathed out one last time before you fell asleep in his arms.

Building nests was part of the process of an Omega going into heat.

And Simon never failed to notice that you made yours bigger, to give room to him.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

I JUST KNOW that man will have those little subscription boxes for makeup or merch or food and stuff for you to enjoy whenever hes on deployment

I have this thot that simon riley is the type of guy to really show his love but not really say it due to his past.

Like every week he replenishes your flower vase. He’ll grab you a magnet when hes on deployment because he knows that's what you love to collect. He’ll drive over an hour to grab your favorite dessert from your favorite restaurant just because you said you were craving it in passing. He saves a seat next to him when you're running late to your weekly pub night with the 141 crew. He's the type of guy who just walks into a bookstore and grabs anything and everything he thinks you would like, and adds a gift card on top of that. When he showers and notices some of your products are halfway gone, he’ll make sure the next time he is out, he will buy some more. You mentioned once that you always wanted a make-up vanity. Next week, there's one built in your room with a little heart and S engraved. You mentioned how you needed to organize your books and start looking at bookshelves to buy. The next day, there are shelves filled with your books. 

When he’s deployed, he sets up a delivery service for food and flowers to make sure you still be taking care of him even if he's away. 

Simon Riley is the type of guy who shows that he loves you more than he actually says it. But you know deep in your heart when you walk in and see the new flowers in the vase, the bag of books, and your favorite dessert in the fridge that is hidden from over 100 magnets he’s gotten for you–that he loves you. 

So I started crying real hard

Tic-Tac-Toe

based on this!! amazing ask!!

.. -. / - …. . / -. .- -- . / --- ..-. / --. --- -..

To look at and to listen to is one things, something that would click immediately within your mind if you had seen it- however, to feel it is something you weren't fully aware you could do. Small taps on your thigh when you would be sitting next to him in the mess hall, laughing to one of Johnny's absurd jokes. Feeling the dashes on the palm of your hand as you walked through the corridors on slow nights.

- --- / -... . / -- .. -. .

Sure you had always known that the Simon Riley had a hard time saying things, he was a flirt to the random girls at the bar but to the people he truly cared about; it was like stumbling through a sentence was the easiest thing for him. So you had resigned to accept his nonverbal acts of affection. Allowing yourself to be content with soft kisses in lieu of words.

- --- / .... .- ...- . / .- -. -.. / - --- / .... --- .-.. -..

It wasn't that he was unaffectionate, quite the opposite, it was that he couldn't show it how he so deeply wanted to. The words would get caught in his throat and they would come out a half kidding banter, like a dig into the psyche. All the same, what he felt for you was something so deep and profound that not even he could dare put it into words. So he would maybe whisper them against your skin when he knew you were too asleep to even know he was awake, he would let his touch linger.

..-. --- .-. / -... . - - . .-. / .- -. -.. / ..-. --- .-. / .-- --- .-. ... .

You didn't think much of the taps, you summed it up to a nervous tic, or maybe something he found comforting. After all, since before you had been dating you always knew he liked to be moving some part of his body, if it be rubbing that frayed edge of his jacket or lightly tapping the palm of your hand.

- --- / .-.. --- ...- .

It didn't click, how he would climb into bed after a long day and how his hand would almost mindlessly move on its own, tapping the skin of your hip as he tried to squeeze into you as if you would vanish if he didn't. You didn't realize the important of the faint kisses on the nape of your neck and how they were oh so perfectly timed to be some sort of code.

Until it was a code.

.- -. -.. / - --- / -.-. .... . .-. .. ... ....

" Hol on, Hol on, /m gettin somthin."

You look to Johnny from where you were currently desperately trying to fix the radio, the thick smog limiting your sight and the burn of the gas in your lungs making it hard to breathe. With a heaved breath you push yourself up to stand and then sink back to your knees where Johnny had been trying to see if the truck's radio worked- a mission gone south left you and heseparatedd from Simon, leaving him in the building.

It was silent until the beeping came over the radio and it...felt sofamiliarr yet you couldn't place your hand on it, it was like a deja-vu feeling within your gut- "It's morse code- God, I forgot that was still a thing."

Johnny looks up at you and then gives you a weak laugh, "Yea, hol' on," as he spoke he took out a pen and paper and began to scribble down the dashes and lines.

"Think it's him?"

"He's tha' only un' tha' knows it."

..- -. - .. .-.. / -.. . .- - .... / .--. .- .-. - ... / ..- ...

"Johnny?" It had taken the man a few seconds to write down the repeating message, then a few more to translate it.

"Johnny is it him? Is he okay?"

There was no silence, the hiss of the storm raging outside and the faint roar of gunfire from the battle you had just been ordered to flee. Yet everything was so slow, he wasn't speaking, he looked almost sorrowful.

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- --..--/ ... --- / -- ..- -.-. .... / -.. --- ...- .

"He loves you. He said he loves you so much."

.. .----. -- / ... --- -.- -.- -.--

"He's sorry."

(annnnway thats all! any feedback, comments or ideas you got trust me I wanna hear them! <333)

Idc how sick I'll get, I'll kiss Simon Riley in the rain a million times over again 😤

i want a cheesy romantic cliché of kissing him the rain 😚💀🌧

-

It starts with a flash of lightning, then a deep thundering crackle, followed by a small gasp of sweet excitement.

"It's raining!"

You practically threw yourself at the window to watch the raindrops pelt the ground with childish wonder.

It's cute. Endearing. It makes Simon's insides freeze up from the sudden rush of tender emotions that clutches at his heart.

"Simon, come here!"

And like an eager, obedient little puppy, he obeys in his own quiet way, walking up to you on autopilot. He doesn't think you know just how much power you have over him. He doesn't think anyone truly knows just how weak he is for you. If you asked him to move mountains, he would do it. If you asked him to carry you through scorching magma, it would be done. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you. God forbid someone gets in his way to make you happy; he'd bulldoze over anyone who would dare try. And you're the only one who has this eternal hold on him.

"Look!"

You flash him the most adorable smile as he walks up behind you, pointing out the window as your breath fogs it up. Simon hides his own tiny smile--something only you can pull from him--and rests a hand on your waist as he leans over your opposite shoulder, following the path of your finger to the pouring rain outside.

He sees nothing special. Just falling droplets of water. Simon holds no strong opinion for it. But the way your eyes sparkle in admiration for it makes it feel like it's the most precious thing in the world.

"Let's go!"

Simon blinks.

What?

You don't even give him a chance to fully comprehend what you said, turning around and grabbing the wrist of the hand he has on your waist. Simon lets himself be yanked along--you would never be able to pull his full weight effortlessly, big man that he knows he is--but he looks at you with a bemused raise of his eyebrows.

You're so . . . special. Care-free. You see beauty in things most people wouldn't care for. And it's sweet. Pure and gut-wrenching at the same time. It's moments like this where Simon sees how soft you are in comparison to himself--how excited you always get to share these little things with him. Like a cat bringing its owner a dead mouse just because it wants to share it with you, but instead of a cat and a dead mouse, it's you and whatever interest that holds your attention. It would be annoying if you were anyone else, but that's just it--you're not anyone else. You're special. You're special to Simon, and that's more devastating than any gunshot wound he ever received.

With an excited grin, you hurridly pull him out the door, with Simon only resisting for one moment to tug you back in to wrap one of his jackets hanging from the rack by the door around you. He rolls his eyes at your whiny Simon--the n being drawn out--and shuts you up with a kiss and a soft You'll get sick, love, and you're a nightmare of a patient. He adds a pinch to your butt as a teasing warning and revels in your squeal as your hands bat his away with another Simon!

Once he makes sure you're bundled up, he puts on a jacket for himself and slips his balaclava over his head before pulling his hood up and letting you lead him outside your house. It isn't raining that hard, but there's still a chill in the air, and belatedly, he realizes he should probably bring an umbrella to hold it over your head. But then there's another flash and crackle, and the sound of delighted laughter spilling from your lips. You look back at him with unadulterated joy, and the breath in his lungs disappates as he takes your happiness in.

It's beautiful and pure, and he suddenly can't find it in himself to step back in for the umbrella. He doesn't want to miss a second of this. And you don't let him.

"Come on, Simon, dance with me!"

You pull him a little further, the smell and sound of the rain filling your senses, and turn yourself around to wrap yourself in his arms.

Simon raises an eyebrow, but his hands grip you closer, and his lips curve up into a fond little half-smile.

"In the rain, pet?"

You pout, and in an instant, Simon knows what you're going to say. He can feel himself already giving in just from your sweet eyes and the curve of your soft lips.

"Please, Simon?"

It's so small and so soft, but it's enough to bend him to your will.

He sighs, saying nothing, but by the growing sparkle in your eyes, he knows you know you got him. Brat. Simon rolls his eyes in fond exasperation. You could bring him to his knees if you wanted. Without warning, he grips you tighter and begins leading you in a sloppy waltz of his own, swaying side to side. It pulls a yelp from your lips from the unexpected movement, but you quickly follow his lead with a grin on your face, pressing your body to his.

In that moment, the rain lightens, but a drop manages to wet the exposed skin near his eye, and he looks up at the grey, cloudy canvas above their heads. Simon never cared much for the rain. It gets him wet and uncomfortable. It can be hard to see through on missions, and there's always a chance of catching a cold. But--your gasp echoes in his ears, It's raining!--and the wonder you have for it makes him wish it would rain forever just so he could see that awed look on your face till his dying days.

There's a grip on his chin, and suddenly, he's looking at you, your hand directing the movement. The dancing stops, but the grin on your face has his heart racing a mile a minute. It's a treasure he wants all to himself.

"Kiss me, Simon."

And he doesn't hesitate to give you what you want--what he wants. Simon pulls down his hood and tugs off his balaclava. He can feel the bite of the wind, and the rain is cold against his skin, but he hardly notices as he takes your lips against his.

You're warm, and right then and there, Simon decides that, yes, maybe he does like rain after all.

-

Bonus

(Later on, as you get ready for bed, a sneeze wracks your body, and a chill runs through you. There's a sigh, and some shuffling, and soon a blanket is wrapped around your shoulders.

"I told you you'd get sick.")

Brain go brrrrrr

ghost x fem. reader w big tiddies 😨

genre: smut, teasing, use of names like slut, tittie fucking, ghost is BIG 😟

“c’mon pay up.” Ghost holds out his palm across the board, tongue in cheek. you let out an annoyed groan, slapping some monopoly money into his calloused hand. You cross your legs under the coffee table, resting your arms on the edge. He chuckles softly as he collects your money and placed another red hotel piece on the board under his property. You sit there with a few single bills left, and only 1 property to your name.

Your eyes start to wander, landing on his thick, muscular arms flexing as he leans back on his hands watching you take your turn. Deciding enough is enough, you take off your sweater, revealing your loose comfy bra, hanging low on your breasts. His eyes immediately dart to your cleavage, licking his lips.

“If you think you can distract me with those…beautiful tits…” his breathing gets heavier.

“You’re wrong.” He adds, sitting up straight and clearing his throat.

“Oh yeah? Let’s just see how long you can last without touching me…” You bat your eyes at him, leaning forward slightly to let your tits press up against the table. You see his adam’s apple shift, fighting the urge to cover your soft skin with hickies. You roll the dice and take your turn, feeling his eyes on you the entire time. The dice rolls a 12, which means your piece moves to his side of the board.

You sit up, kneeling, as you lean over the table, your breasts grazing over the board. Ghost sits up, leaning into you. He hooks his index finger in the middle of your bra, between your breasts, tugging on it even lower. Your nipples barely peek out, making him let out a soft groan.

“Lasted only a few seconds, Lieutenant…” You whisper, your lips mere centimeters away from one another.

“You drive me crazy, sweetheart…” He mumbles, reaching over to grab your entire body and pulling you onto the floor underneath him on the rug. You yelp out, hearing the game board slide off the table, the pieces and money flying off with it. He crashes his lips onto yours, groaning deeply as his hands massage your tits.

Your fingertips graze his hair as he moves lower, your bra suddenly nowhere to be found. His lips latch onto your nipple, toying with it with his tongue. He comes up for air for a moment, his chin covered in his own saliva.

“Simon…” you whine out. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand

“Push those tits together for me slut, lemme fuck ‘em.” He adds, helping you up onto your knees.

You oblige, squeezing your tits together as his cock finds itself between the soft flesh, you can feel him throbbing as you look down at his leaking tip.

He pushes his hips back and forth throwing his head back at the warm feeling. His eyes land on the full length mirror on the opposite wall of the living room. He grabs your jaw and turns your head towards it.

“See that? Look at what a good girl you’re being f’me ” He coos, slamming his hips further. You have to admit, seeing yourself on your knees in front of Ghost like this makes him look so big.

“God, these fuckin’ tits are gonna be the end of me.” He groans, feeling him close to his high.

“You gonna fuck me now, Riley?” You pout, knowing he’d give in. “want you so bad.” He pauses his movements, pushing you onto your back. He looks over at the mirror, watching your legs wrap around his waist as his cock meets your entrance.

“That’s my girl.”

Man is hurt and left for dead

He felt her moving even before she started moving, heavy arms wrapping around her waist to pin her against him. She gave a sleepy laugh, trying to untangle herself from him. “Babe, I gotta go pee.”

“Pee later,” he muttered against her neck, already throwing a leg over hers. “Wanna cuddle.”

“Baaaaaaaaabe,” she giggled, trying to no avail to free herself. “I gotta goooooooo.”

“Noooooooo,” he mocked back, burying his head in the pillow. “Stay with me and cuddle”

She dissolved into laughter and resigned herself to her fate. “At least let me roll over so I can see your handsome face.”

There was a moment of stillness. “…Promise you won’t run when I open my arms?”

“I promise!” she chirped. “Scouts honor.”

“Alright,” he agreed, unwinding his arms and legs. “I trust you. You better not break—”

The second, his grip slackened, she bolted, hurtling off the side of the bed and into the bathroom, cackling as he started to groan and whine about, “Being betrayed by his most lovely.”

She returned shortly to see him face down in the bed, still groaning and she crawled onto the mattress, laying on his back as she dug her hands under his chest. “I’m sorry, babe,” she murmured, turning her head to lay on the expanse of his shoulder blades. “I had to go tinkle.”

“You left me.”

“I know,” she pouted, kissing his back. “You had to spend two minutes in bed without me. I’m so sorry.”

“Now you’re mocking me.”

“I do it because I love you.” She squeezed his sides. “C’mon handsome, lemme see you.” He turned his head and gave her a pout. “I love you,” she grinned, and he looked away, a smile turning up the corner of his lips.

“Love you more.”

She rested her head back on his shoulders. “I love you most.”

Girlbossin 💅🏾

It’s a wild evening back on the base in Las Almas, drinks are poured, food is served, and the 141 and Los Vaqueros are getting to know each other better than any gunfight will ever let them. Spades has unfortunately found herself stuck in the middle of a cutthroat poker game with Alejandro, Ghost, and Price. Gaz, Soap, and Rudy had long decided to bow out of the game after each losing a good chunk of their paycheck, but God, the stakes were high now. A bottle of vintage bourbon, three rare cigars, a couple thousand dollars, and a few gemstones Spades had handy.

It's dangerous as the bets keep growing, and even Spades is starting to sweat like Alejandro and Price are as the cards keep moving.

It’s Price who tosses his cards into the pile first, a curse under his breath and Alejandro follows with, “Mierda.”

It’s just Ghost and Spades now, and he’s staring her down cooly.

“Feeling the heat, love?” he asks nonchalantly, and she inhales and exhales.

“I’m feeling something, Simon.” She looks at him. “I wonder if this is the night I finally lose?”

Something in his eyes reveals shock which quickly turns to pride as he shows his cards. A straight flush of diamonds. Five to nine. Everyone groans and Simon chuckles darkly as he collects his winnings.

Spades doesn’t show her cards, merely rises from her seat to cross the table, taking Simon’s bourbon from him; she sips it and gets low on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, “I’ll lose some night, but that night is not tonight.” She sets her cards down in front of him and he goes slack. “Eat my flush, babe.”

“No…” he breathes. “There’s no way you managed this.”

Five men are sticking their heads over to see what her hand is and it’s one of the rarest hands you can get. A royal flush, all Aces.

Spades hands the men back their items, save the money and gems, but takes Simon’s bottle of bourbon, and plucks Price’s lit cigar from his mouth, puffing it as she dances away towards a group of men and women barbecuing, as free and as pridefully as she pleases.

141 + Königs Reactions To Reader Asking Them To Lay On Them

Warnings: swearing, mentions of crying

Based on the following request from @gaymistakeboi , I accidentally hit post before I was finished, so the actual request vanished🫠🫣

Request- Hi! Second request that I was gonna ask for! Reader with the 141+Köing where reader has a bad day and gets overstimulated and just looks at their boy and goes "lay on me" and the boys are like "sorry what", reader just looks them in the eys and says "did I fucking stutter? Full weight. On me. Now." I want nothing more in life than just have the crushing weight of a guy a lot bigger than me just crushing me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

You'd been watching Simon for the better part of an hour as he sat across from you on the other couch. He was hunched over slightly, his face scrunched up in concentration as he tried to finish the Sunday paper's crossword puzzle.

You smiled to yourself, realizing in that moment how much you loved him.

"Si, can you come here?" You asked, your arms stretched out, hands making a grabbing motion toward your husband.

Simon looked up from the paper, a ghost of a smile on his lips, and stood from his spot on the couch opposite of you. He walked over to you and sat down by your feet as he grabbed your hand to place a delicate kiss in your wrist.

"No, not like that." You whined.

Simon's brow quirked as a sly smile fell across his lips. "Like how?"

"Lay on top of me." You asked, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "Please?"

"You're serious?" He asked, slightly concerned. "Sweetheart, I'm like three times the size of you."

"Simon fucking Riley just get over here and crush me with your body, damnit."

Simon let out a hearty chuckle as he threw his hands up in mock defeat. "You asked for this, kid."

He pulled away the blanket that was covering you and proceeded to lay himself fully on top of you, his entire body weight pressed firmly into yours.

You sighed in content as you pressed kisses to the exposed flesh of Simon's neck. "You're so handsome, you know that?"

"You tell me this, as my body is crushing yours?" He chuckled softly. He shifted his weight slightly, causing you to groan beneath him.

"It's every person's dream, to be crushed by an amazingly attractive, built military man, is it not?" You giggled, running your hand along his cheek.

"Can't say it's mine, sweetheart. But I wouldn't mind you laying on top of me." He pressed a warm kiss to your temple before flipping the two of you over, so your weight was now on him. "I love you, kid."

"I love you too, Simon."

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

To say you couldn't get comfortable in bed tonight was an understatement. You tossed and turned endlessly, unable to get into a position in which you could fall asleep.

Halfway through the night, you rolled over on your side, facing your boyfriend Johnny, who was passed out. You began to tug on his shirt, causing his eyes to blink open slowly.

"Y/N, babe, you alright?" He asked, his voice gruff from sleep.

"Can't sleep." You murmured.

"How can I help?" He sat up slightly, wiping at his face.

You kept wordlessly pulling on Johnny's shirt, hoping he'd get the hint.

"Babe, speak up. I don't know what you want." Johnny chuckled as his eyes raked up and down his figure.

"Lay on me." Your voice barely above a whisper.

"Lay on you?" He asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Did I stutter? Thought my request was pretty clear." You bit, but Johnny could sense the playfulness in your tone.

"Oof, listen to that attitude." He quipped, a devious smile making its way on his face. "Fine, you asked for it."

He sat up, making his way over to you, before plopping his full body weight on top of you. You let out a small squeal as he landed on you, turning your face slightly as the hairs from his mohawk began to tickle at your nose.

It was pleasant at first. The only sounds that filled the rooms were soft breathing and the sound of Johnny's heartbeat. Johnny, being Johnny, then decided to push his weight into you just a bit more causing his weight to be too much for you.

"Okay, wait, wait, you're too heavy now. Get off." You chuckled, shoving at his chest playfully.

"Nah, this is what you wanted brat, you gotta deal with it." He teased, slowly rolling himself around on your form. "Maybe you'll think next time before giving your amazingly awesome boyfriend attitude."

"Johnny!" You choked out a laugh as he finally pulled himself off of you. "You're a jerk!"

"Only doing what you asked of me, babe. Now get your pretty ass over here and cuddle with me."

König-

"Köönnniiigggg." You called out, wiping away the stray tears that fell down your face. The day you had was horrible. It was one of those days where nothing seemed to go right, and all you wanted was to go home and lay in bed.

"Maus? Is everything okay?" He came into the bedroom quickly, his eyebrows furrowed in concern as he took in your crying state.

"Can you..can you come lay on me?" You asked, your cheeks burning a crimson red. It wasn't something you'd ever asked him before, but you wanted nothing more than to be crushed by your giant lover.

"L-Lay on you? Schatz, I'll crush you. I don't want to hurt you." He stuttered out, slowly making his way to your side of the bed. "What's going on?"

"I've just had a shit day, and I really want you to lay on me." You blinked up at him, as your bottom lip trembled.

König regarded you carefully for a moment, trying to see if you were messing with him. He truly was worried he'd crush you, but he couldn't ever say no to you.

He took off his shoes and hoodie before climbing over top of you in the bed. "If I get too heavy, pat my back and I'll get up, okay Maus?"

You nodded as a victorious smile lined your lips. Your arms and legs securely fastened around his body, as he slowly laid himself down on you. You could tell he was holding back, though, and wasn't putting his full weight on you.

"This is what you wanted?" He asked, chuckling slightly as he heard your giggles from underneath him.

"Yes." You replied, taking the deepest breath you could with your mass of a boyfriend on top of you.

"Am I...hurting you?" He asked, timidly.

"Not at all, Kö. This is nice." You hummed, relishing in the feeling of some of his weight on you. It was clear he still wasn't okay with putting his full weight on you, and a lot of it was shifted to his arms, which hovered around your head.

You absentmindedly drew random figures into your boyfriend's back with your fingers, as you felt the stress of your day begin to wash away.

"Let me hold you, Maus." König said softly, his lips grazing your neck. He felt you nod against his chest, so he sat up slightly and laid on his side before pulling you into his chest. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You shook your head wordlessly as your fingers laced with his.

"Okay, well, when you want to talk, I'm here, always."

And when you were ready to talk, he listened.

John Price-

"Sorry it took me so long to finish up. The paperwork took longer than I would've liked." John whispered in your ear as he came up behind you while you were washing your face.

You gave him a smile in the reflection of the mirror, before patting your face dry. "It's alright, love."

"Are you okay?" He asked, as his brows furrowed slightly.

"Just a long day. Nothing a good cuddle with my husband won't cure." You turned to wrap your arms around his waist and stared to pull him backward toward the bed.

As you fell back onto the bed, your grip on your husband's waist tightened, and your legs latched around his lower abdomen, effectively locking him in a tight grasp.

"Baby, what are you doing?" John chuckled, pulling away slightly to smile down at you. "Did you want something?"

"Just stay like this with me. It feels good." You breathed out, your lover's weight fully pinning you into the bed.

"Sweetheart, I'm crushing you."

"It's okay, I like it." You spoke as you nuzzled your face into your husband's chest.

"Anything you want to talk about?" He asked, as his fingers stroked at your face mindlessly.

"Just a long day. Just wanna lay here like this with you." You replied, nuzzling your face into John's hand.

"I can do that."

~

It was a few moments later when John spoke up again. "Love? Are you still with me?"

Instead of a verbal response, he heard a soft snore emit from your lips underneath him, causing him to chuckle softly. "You will be the death of me."

He rolled over gently so as not to wake you as he pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your temple. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

Kyle had been gaming nearly all night, and you were desperate for his affection. It wasn't often he had game nights like this, and you were happy he was enjoying himself, but you were unable to prolong your neediness any further.

Once he got to a saving point, you pulled the controller away from him, setting it on the table in front of the couch. He turned to you with a confused expression, the slightest bit of a smirk evident on his lips. "Babe?"

"Lay on me."

Kyle blinked a few times, trying to process your request. "What?"

"I asked you to lay on me." You huffed, pouting out your bottom lip in the way he liked.

Kyle gave a hearty chuckle before grabbing a blanket and throwing it on the floor. He picked you up bridal style, while grabbing a pillow, and moved to lay you on the makeshift bed he created on the floor.

"You're sure?" He asked, his lips upturned in a devious smile.

"Yes."

He moved to lay on top of you, spreading his body weight throughout the length of your body.

You erupted in a fit of giggles as Kyle shifted his weight on you. "Wait, Ky, you're doing it wrong!"

"How on earth am I doing it wrong? You asked me to lay on you!" Kyle couldn't help the laughter that escaped his lips.

"You're supposed to lovingly lay on me!" You gasped out, Kyle's weight becoming too much for you. "This isn't loving!"

Kyle roared with laughter. "How am I supposed to lovingly lay on you, you wanker!"

Giving up on trying to appease your wishes, he took matters into his own hands. He slipped his fingers under your shirt and began to tickle at your sides, causing you to squeal in delight. "My little pet wants attention? I'll give em attention."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thanks for reading!🙂

Another crazy idea because I love toxic men, ghost and reader get into an argument and reader throws something at him so he shoves her into a wall. And then the next morning when things still havnt cooled off yet, ghost catches a glimpse of her back while she is getting in the shower and sees BRUISES ALL UP HER BACK and then he is like immediately sorry and tries to comfort her and apologize but reader is still shaken up because she never thought Simon would lay a land on her

you know what this made me sad and this makes me think of a ghost who is so angry, so detached from being simon riley that he still brings ghost home. can't separate it from himself, couldn't even bring himself to try. this is a ghost who has not reflected, not healed. so all he does is keep hurting things. this is the toxic ghost you asked for? this is the toxic ghost you'll get <3

(warning: dv themes and toxic/abusive relationships + a lot of references to the ghost comics. ghost is not a good man, fem!reader)

you're not even sure who started it at this point. it was probably you, as it usually is. when ghost comes home, he barely gives you the time of day. tells you "i love you" but it always feels like he doesn't mean it. can't look you in the eyes when he says it anyways. you think you've forgotten his touch.

your voice is raw and it hurts to tell him that "for the last fucking time, simon! all i'm asking is for you to just..."

"just what, huh?!" he rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. he doesn't know why he's this frustrated. doesn't think it's at you. has no choice but to direct it at you.

he has wounds still needing to scar over. you know of this. one of the first he decided to work on it with, thought it might help him get back to how it was when he was happier. when he didn't have all these ugly scars. when he still had his family. when he was still simon.

but you keep calling him that name. that stupid name, because that's who you're begging for. begging for him to show through that mask of his.

"you just... hurt me! i feel like you never even want to be here anymore, simon. i keep trying with you but you always push me away!" you're yelling again but he barely hears it.

"s'cause you're so fuckin' annoyin'," he mutterrs under his breath. that statement makes you pause. you grit your teeth as you stare at him through angry tears. it's the first time you've been quiet all night. he still doesn't give you another glance, just sitting on the couch and staring at his hands.

he knows you're trying to help him and love him like you want to. he knows that you do love him and that it's dwindling with every passing day at his own fault. the way you're so adamant on staying and helping him like he did with his mom and his brother. he's just not used to someone doing it back for him. 'sides, he's got nobody left now.

still has nightmares where he hurts women, especially the ones he cares about. and he's living it right now. for the first time, he looks up at you and takes in your hurt expression. he pities you. and he laughs.

it makes the hairs on your arms and neck stand up, raising your hackles and baring your teeth. you grab a random item from the shelf and swing it at him with all your might in hopes it'll crack him and he'll go back to being the simon you first met. maybe you could fall in love with him again. and it seems to snap him out of his stupor but it sends him into a frenzy.

his military reflexes, combined with something that strikes pure fear into you, make him surge forward and grab you by the collar. he pushes you against the shelves and gets into your face. the way you're pinned against the shelves has a level digging into your neck, another just below your shoulder blades, and your lower back. it hurts, maybe a little more than the way he looks at you. just barely. like he can't stand the sight of you. and you know the person in there is not your simon. that's ghost.

your ears are ringing and your survival instincts are going through the roof. you're not even sure what he's saying to you as he shouts and spits in your face. then he just looks down at you shaking like a leaf and realizes that all the fight in you has been beaten out of you. it sends the ghost to the back of his mind once he realizes there's nothing to fight against anymore. he finally gets to take you in. admires the brave face you put on even though you look like shit.

and he just walks away.

can't bring himself to say anything to you. knows none of it is going to help. doesn't have the decency to offer you the bed and make you sleep in the same room he attacked you in. he'll come up with a way to talk to you in the morning. he doesn't sleep anyways and he doesn't expect you to either.

in the morning, he finds you asleep in the kitchen instead. you couldn't bear to be in the living room after the echos of your shouting still bounced off the walls into your ears. so you are laying on the dinner table, arms folded, and a blanket and slipped off you and onto the floor. he grabs the thin blanket from the floor and that's when he sees them. your hair doesn't well conceal the bruises on your neck. his eyes trail over to the place where your shirt rides up and shows some light bruising on your back. he knows if he lifts it any higher than it might be an array of different shades of blues and purples.

"simon?" you rasp out and slowly lift your head. it's not in a sleepy way and more of a cautious way. similar to how he rises when he gets up from those night terrors, believing the skeletons to be back in his room with him.

"s'me," he says quietly. "should go shower." and he retracts from you since you're awake now. no sense in putting the blanket on and making you still sleep in an uncomfortable place. it's his way of trying to say sorry. like he's shuffling around it awkwardly. he knows if he does try to comfort you then it'd be ingenuine.

sensing this, you nod and get up to shuffle away to the bathroom. you stand in the doorway and try to come up with something to say, perhaps ease the tension. no matter how rattled up you were, how much you didn't want to believe that he raised his hands against you and berated you so easily... you wanted to hold onto that tiny sliver of hope for him and pray you could fix him.

"i still love you." you weakly put out. ghost just stares back at you and processes the words. he isn't sure how to respond to that, unsure of what answer he has at the ready. would he even mean it or would he be saying something to appease you?

"i don't think i'm good for you, luv." he tries to talk you down as if you're a scared child. he thinks in a way you are. but you still manage to impress him with the way you are so insistent on proving him wrong.

"can't we... can't we try, simon?"

it's something in the way he stares at you when you say it. sends you into a new realization that you'd been missing. for who knows how long. maybe weeks? months? since he first met you?

you'd thought with the way he was readily showing you his wounds and scars that you might have been close. how he so badly wanted to settle down after his brother did and even tried a go at it since his nephew prodded.

you thought that maybe you were his first love. but the way he looks at you with such sadness... confirms to the both of you that you won't be his last.

you are literally the best cod writer on this app. hands down. I was wondering if you could write simon and reader getting a noise complaint the morning after he literally makes dents in the wall from the headboard slamming, reader whining, you choose the rest. your writing is literally art 💋

EHEH ARE YOU SERIOUS 🥹🥹 squealing, blushing, kicking my feet 🤭🌷

MDNI. flashbacks of rough sex, sexual language !!

you couldn’t help the butterflies that ricocheted off the walls of your stomach when your husband shot a coy smirk over his shoulder at you. the feds were at the door — clipboard in hand. “sir, we received several noise complaints throughout the night and into the early hours of this morning. . .”

oh.

‘ungh~ tha’sit, lovie.” he croaked against the shell of your ear — the moist, matted foliage of his pelvic bush kissing your swollen clit with ever piston of his drilling hips against yours. “missed ya s’much, darlin.” his voice, husk and dry, reverberated against your sweat-damp temple where gentle pecks left affectionate stamps in their wake. “feel so good squeezin me like that, mmf~”

“oh yeah?” your husband responds, feigning oblivion. “y’sure they was complainin ‘bout us, lads?” they nod at that, peering past the hunk of your husband to acknowledge your smaller self. “yes, sir. said it wasn’t the first time.” they look back to simon, dragging their eyes up his six-foot-something bulk. “apparently this happens whenever you come home.”

“that so?” simon irks them, his pride potent in his tone and stature. “what’d they tell ya?”

“missed you, si!” you whined, nails raking down the taut flesh of his expansive back. “so big!” you complemented, eyes performing somersaults within their sockets. “so good!” and it was. your husband’s thick cock had never felt better; solid pudge rocking into the soft slope of your now no-doubt pregnant stomach whilst his girthy prick went to town on your innards. you mewled, slender digits clawing the memento of that night into his muscular body as his vigorous movements bashed the headboard into the wall behind.

“your neighbours heard a loud ‘banging’ from about dinner time onwards, mister riley.” one officer informs him. “yeah, and what sounded like screaming up until 4 the ‘morrow.” the other adds. you know your husbands’s ego just grew ten sizes bigger, his dick likely swelling also. “really?” simon humours them, smirk blatantly present as he says so. you giggle, hand flying to cover your mouth as an embarrassed flush taints your cheeks a raw maroon.

“s-simon! the wall!” you cried, wept. blissful tears poured from your hooded eyes as you craned your neck backward — the paint on the wall crumbling as the metal frame of your headboard collided with it with each of his aggressive thrusts. “leave it.” he grunted, fucking into your exhausted pussy with increased force. “let the whole fuckin’ house tumble down.” hissed into your gaping mouth; tongues tangling and saliva accumulating. “let everyone know who’s fuckin’ you dumb like this, yeah? makin you scream ‘til you cum nice an’ hard.” and you did — milking his fat prick dry as a ring of cream slickened around his hairy base. “cum on this cock, love”

“just thought we better have a look ‘round, if you’s don’t mind.”

simon looks back to where you’re watching with a blush. “not at all, officers.” he winks, to which the heat that blushes your flustered face dives southbound to narrow on your throbbing cunt. “c’mon in.” and of course he directs them upstairs first.

“you can do it, sweet’art.” he groaned into your moaning mouth. “let ‘em hear ya.” his pace picked up, inflated balls bouncing off the underside of your upturned arse as he hammered his heavy cock against the roof of your bruised cervix. “let ‘em know who’s home.” your eyes rattled until their whites were visible, pupils rolling back to stare your brain down when his weeping cockhead bumped into your cunt’s velvety roof — pre-cum mingling with the cream of your impending climax. “that’s it, love. hug me nice and tight.” you let out a strangled squeal at his words, voice breaking whilst he battered your smaller frame into the creaking mattress. the bed frame shook, swaying back and forth in tandem with his zealous rhythm. “gonna wake the neighbours.” you slurred through spit-covered lips — red and puckered. “good.” simon retorted, muffled by the slaps of skin ploughing skin.

“how did this happen?” one of the cops asks, gesturing to wear the wall has eroded. the plaster beneath reveals exposed brick where next door attaches to the structure of your abode, loose wiring and pipes hanging down. the headboard is dented, the paint from it now transferred onto what remains of the wall behind. “wear ‘n tear.” simon shrugs, slinging a lazy arm around your shoulders. you lean into him, legs still aching from last night. “besides.” he adds, slyly pinching your backside. “was happy to see the missus.”

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.”

(Office tv show interview)

simon: no yeah I am wildly in love with them, I will die for them

(cuts scene to parking lot, to where Simon playfully shoves Reader, but they fall face first anyway. And Simon just stares at the ground for a minute and then makes eye contact with the camera)

(cut scene)

Simon: do I think they know? Oh yeah, wear my heart on ma fucking sleeve. (Cuts to Johnny)

Johnny, after listening to the interviewer: …LT has emotions?

(um…yeah idk what this is. Jus a goofy lil idea)

can u please do a little blurb of Simon/ghosts reaction to younger!girlfriend!reader! When he takes their virginity and they are so tight he can barely fit. And maybe if ur feeling up to it make reader cum ON JUST THE TIP like he’s literally not even in. Also…….maybe reader’s a squirter…

(afab!fem!reader, minors do NOT interact - 18+)

THE SCREAM I SCRUMPTTTTTT EUUUARGHHHHH. this honestly created a new wrinkle in my brain. thank you. i kiss you on cheek 😗

simon who knows how big he is, s'the first thing he said when you first brought up sex. a gentle warning that he's going to be a lot to handle. but he's sweet on you, lets you bring up when you want to talk about sex. when you want to have it. but just because he lets you lead that topic doesn't mean he hasn't been thinking about it. dreaming about it. craving it.

the way you look up at him with such sweet, innocent eyes has simon's heart aching. you poor thing, don't know what you're in for. but he keeps your mind off of it with the way he continues to kiss up and down your body.

you've totally entrusted yourself to simon. he thinks it's dangerous with the way you've opened yourself up so willingly for him. because although he's a trained soldier who has endured some of the worst. the biggest challenge yet as to be refraining from ravaging you with when he hones in on the damp spot on your panties.

it's the only guard you have against him right now. otherwise stripped bare for his hands to touch and his lips to press into. he starts mapping out your body so it can be prepared to fully claim it as his. wants so badly to be your first and your last. knows he can make it so, because he plans on wrecking you tonight.

"simon, when are you going to-" he cuts off your sweet voice by kissing your breast, nipping at it playfully and smirking when you whine. he pulls back to stroke your hair back and look you in the eyes with a teasing grin.

"going to wha'?" it makes you blush to even think of trying to get out the words properly. it'd already been enough to work up the courage to tell him that you were ready tonight. made you blush even harder by the way he bared his teeth in a feral grin when you said so.

"to... to f-"

"fuck you?" he interjects. "no, no, baby. not going to fuck you silly. not tonight. can't handle that yet, no matter how badly i want this pussy t'be mine." he grins down at you and softly cups your cheek. "i gotta introduce myself to her first, get her used to me and give her a proper welcome."

"her?" you ask timidly and he shuffles again between your thighs so that his boxers press up against your clothed pussy. makes you look at the size of him between your legs, and then at the size of his bulge.

"your pussy, baby. my pussy." he hums and strokes your thighs lovingly. he enjoys that little panicked look in your eyes, because he knows it's not because you want to back out. he can sense you're still okay with this. he just wants to coax you out a little bit, help you gain more confidence in this setting. because it would be further than the truth to say that he isn't so sexually attracted to you right now.

"how are you going to do that, simon?" you ask and hold your legs back for him. oh, so obedient. didn't need to ask. he awards you with a squeeze on your thigh and a pat to the knee.

"can i take these off, princess?" he asks while holding his hands at your hips. they're resting just above your underwear so he's not actually touching them, just barely above the hem of them. when you nod, he gives you a reassuring smile and slowly slips it off of you. he lets out a breath when he sees your pretty pussy underneath him, spread open from the position your legs are in since he's already so wide and you have to accommodate. "such a pretty pussy. can i touch?"

"yes, please." you look at him with hands by your chin, brought up since you weren't sure what to do with yourself. simon can't help but hum at the way you're so good for him, so polite. your breath hitches when you feel his fingers prod at your pussy lips, spreading them out even more.

he takes a gentle finger to slowly feel at your slit. there's enough of a sticky mess down there from all the kissing and licking he did at your neck and nipples. the way he was whispering promises of how good he was going to treat you and your "princess cunt" made you excited to experience what he wanted to give you.

"gonna put a finger in, yeah?" he confirms with you. you nod again and then he gives your hip a squeeze. "need you to use your words, baby. gotta make sure you tell me yes or no."

"please put a finger in me, simon," you beg him. he has no choice but to oblige. and then he's slowly pushing in a digit, his fingers already thicker than what you might expect and the stretch is a lot. your walls squeeze tightly down on the foreign feeling and he gently shushes you with a thumb to rub at your clit.

"i gotcha. need to prep you good if y'wanna take my cock. y'wanna take my cock, baby?" he asks while gently massaging your walls. it feels a little weird at first but the way he circles your clit is too good. you squeeze down on his finger again and he curses in his head. oh, how tight you were. just a wonder of how you'd feel wrapped around him. but he knew patience. he could wait just a little longer.

"i do. i want to feel your cock, simon. please make me cum," you watch him as he kisses your tummy. he tells you that he promises to. tells you that he was sure he was put on this earth to please you, to make you cum so good around him. he adds another finger when he feels that you're ready, and then another after that one. he has you stretched on three fingers with him rubbing little circles on your clit to help ease the pressure from him.

but when you're close, he stops the slow thrusting of his fingers and takes his thumb off. doesn't miss the way your thighs twitch and how you whimper when he pulls his fingers out. "hush, love. you'll get to cum soon enough. don't want you coming from anything but my cock first, though."

with that, he settles with his hips between your thighs again and slowly thrusts his cock against your folds. you feel for the first time just how thick he is, how far he spreads your pussy lips already as he smooths out a path between them. and you watch how far his tip goes up your tummy when he thrusts forward all the way.

"simon," you nervously call out, gripping onto his wrist. he's quick to pause and cups your face again.

"talk to me, love."

the concern in his eyes that lets you know no matter how bad he wants it, that he's willing to drop everything for you tonight if you tell him to stop. it has you making up your mind, trying to squish down the nervous butterflies in your tummy.

"go gentle, okay?"

he smiles, eyes crinkling as he gives you a nod. brings your hand up so he can kiss it and then intertwines his fingers with yours. "always."

he checks to make sure you're still good by playing with your pussy a little more, continuing to rub against you and ensure that your clit is getting the attention it needs. when he asks if it's okay to put it in, you tell him yes. but as he begins to push in, your body locks up and your hand squeezes so tightly on his.

"simon!" you yelp out as your back arches off the bed. he stops immediately, tip barely pushing past your entrance.

"shit, s'fucking tight. thought i stretched you out enough, princess," he says while locking his eyes with the way his cock splits you open at just the barest intrusion. he can see your cream slathering the tip of his dick. "wan' me to stop?"

you take in a deep breath and collect yourself. you're brave enough to try. you want it that badly. "n-no."

"don't think i can keep going without hurting you, baby." he prods his dick at your slit again and thinks of what to do. doesn't think you really want to be fingered again, not when you got this far. he doesn't want to squash your confidence either so he opts for the next best thing. "how 'bout just the tip?"

"just the tip?" you huff out. you look down and see the dripping head of his dick, hiding the full length of his meaty cock at the angle you're looking at. you look back at simon and nod. "okay."

"s'my good girl." he praises you and slowly pushes the tip in again. he bites in a loud groan at the way you squeeze down on him. what a tiny pussy. he feels the head pop in and huffs out a breath, watching to see the way you're reacting. your face is scrunched up in discomfort but you take deep breaths to work through it. deciding to help you, he starts working your clit again. "atta girl. look at you. tip's in this tight fuckin' pussy."

you look down and see that yes, his tip did go into your hole. can feel it too, how it stretches you so widely. you whimper at him when you realize that, unconsciously clenching down around his tip as you focus on the feeling of it. he hisses and grips your hip a little tighter. "move, please, simon?"

and he takes your words as if it were a holy order. allows himself shallow thrusts as he watches his tip pop in and out of your wet pussy. he pants as he watches it and feels the way you squeeze on him so nicely.

"hear tha', sweet girl?" he asks. you focus your ears onto what he might be talking about. and then you moan because you can hear the wet sounds of your pussy every time his cockhead slaps against your slit and stirs your juices around your pussy lips. "mm, s'right. s'all you. pussy so tight, so messy. and it's all mine."

he pinches your clit and it makes your legs squeeze around his hips now. the sensation of him stretching you out with just the tip and how it barely enters you combined with him rolling your clit between his fingers is too much. your eyes roll back and you moan, enjoying the way he plays with your pussy. although it's only the tip, his cock is so long and wide that it feels like it hits you so deep.

every time he pulls the tip back, he can see the messy strings of your juices still connecting him to your pussy. drives him absolutely mad.

"c'mon, baby. feel you clampin' down on me. you gonna cum?" he grunts out as his shallow thrusting becomes faster. you silently praise him for having the self control he does to not go any deeper. but you don't realize that he's become so addicted to just his tip dipping in and out of you. loves the way your pussy engulfs his tip and makes him so slippery.

"mhm," you hum as you look at him with lovesick eyes. "i... i think i'm going to cum." you aren't sure, never having cum around anything before. was it supposed to feel like this? you pant and squeal when he starts abusing your clit, swiping it back and forth. goes between squeezing on it and swiping the underside of your clit with his thumb and using his three fingers to move it back and forth.

and then you're cut off as you gush around him. you cum so much and shut your eyes as he continues to rapidly thrust in and out while you cum. takes a second for you both to realize that your juices has spurted all over your thighs and simon's stomach. he slows himself down as he takes his dick out and starts slapping the head on your clit, making you squirt even more.

you wiggle your hips to try to run from the sensation, but he keeps going and gives himself a couple more shallow thrusts into your pussy before finally pulling out and cumming all over your stomach. you catch your breath as simon slowly pumps his cock.

"i came a lot," you comment as you look at the mess that's slathered over his hips and probably darkening the sheets below you. he hums and looks at you questioningly.

"you ever cum before?" you shake your head no and he has to clear his throat so he can focus on hiding the way his eyes darkened at that. "you didn't just cum, love. you squirted."

your face turns red and you sink back into the pillows behind you. you let out a sheepish, "oh." and simon can't help but chuckle. he shifts his hips and his cock bounces up, letting you know that he's still hard.

"s'alright, love. i liked it a lot. you got another one in you? want to try to make you squirt again like tha'."

do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere (reblogs welcome!)

Tattoos Tell A Story part 2

Part 1 here, Part 3 here

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Summary: You decide to give Ghost a taste of his own medicine

Warnings: None?, Some kissing??, FLUFF, Ghost being bby gurl

A/n: This was requested by @v1naco . I hope I did your wonderful idea justice! Also how the heck did this end up so long??

You would like to make one thing clear.

You love watching Simon get tattoos.

Not only is his deliciously huge arm on full display, but the way his muscles flex when the needle hit a particularly sensitive part of his arm?

Oh you were down bad.

Yes you know he’s technically in pain but come onnn-

He had wanted to get the date of one of his most recent victorious mission tattooed on the inside of his bicep.

What kind of mission was it? You weren’t sure, you know, with it being “classified” and all.

He told you in secret at home

Once told of his plans, you had immediately accepted to tag along and boy are you glad you did. Originally it was for the purpose of just spending as much time with your boyfriend as possible, but you didn’t realize it’d be such a sight.

“Enjoying the view there sweetheart?”

You startle slightly, flicking your eyes away from his arm to Ghost’s masked face. You know there’s a smirk hiding under there somewhere.

Cocky bastard

You clear your throat, repositioning in your seat slightly ,”Uh, no I-I was just….. admiring Jackson’s handiwork.” You claim.

Simon looks you up and down,“Mhm, whatever you say love.”

Jackson, the tattoo artist, just chuckles at the couples antics, eyes never leaving his work.

Ghost knew Jackson pretty well due to him having worked on most of his arm sleeve. He was the only artist in the area that would agree to the service of a scarily large man in a sketchy skull mask and hood, the others immediately declined as soon as he stepped through the door, some even reaching for their phone in a concealed panic. Not that they could really be blamed for their hesitance. He is pretty intimidating if you didn’t know him.

Your eyes now purposefully wander anywhere around the parlor except Simon. You would not be giving him the pleasure of catching you gawking again.

Your gaze skims over a variety of stencils hung on the walls. You never minded the idea of getting a tattoo yourself, you were just too indecisive to ever settle on one.

But maybe one of Jackson’s will stick out to me, you think as you exam the references pinned to the wall

Maybe a bird?

Or a moon?

Possibly a flower?

Oo, that bunny’s pretty cute.

Maybe a-

Wait

Is that-

You squint your eyes to see it clearer, before they quickly widen again

It is

You can’t help the slight maniacal smirk that overtakes your face

That one’s perfect

-+-

It had been about a week since the tattoo parlor and honestly? You had almost forgotten about the whole thing. Simon had still yet to notice your skins new…..addition. You’d think a military man would be more observant.

Although, in your boyfriends defense, it was so small and in such a hidden place that even you yourself had a hard time seeing it.

You and Ghost were in the kitchen together, him in charge of the noodles while you made the sauce. Normally y’all would just order some take-out, but you both decided to try something new. Neither you or him were five star chefs by any means, only able to follow along to a recipe. A very detailed recipe.

You were leaning over the stove just trying to stir the ingredients though your hair obviously did not get the memo. No matter what you did, tucking it behind your ear, blowing it back with your mouth, it just would not get out of your face.

You pull a strand in front of you, eyes almost crossing from it being so close, and glared at it as if it had personally offended you.

I swear to gosh, one day I’m just gonna freaking shave all of it off-

“Here,” comes a distinctly deep, British voice from behind. When had he gotten over here?,”Let me.”

You feel the strands of hair get pulled gently from your grasp as he gradually gathers it all into one extremely large hand. He gingerly rakes his fingers through your locks, eliminating any knots or lumps. Using the hair band from his wrist, where did he get that from?, he joins all of it into a ponytail.

You’re kinda sad to feel his fingers retreat from your scalp.

You run a hand over your head, examining his work. You’re fairly surprised to feel that there’s only a small hump or two.

“Hm, not bad for a man with sandpaper hands.” You jest with a smile.

You don’t get a response

The sound of breathing coming from behind tells you he hasn’t moved either.

“Simon?” You question, turning to look over your shoulder.

The man in question was standing stock still, you’d think he was a mannequin if not for his chest moving up and down. His gaze zeroed in on your ear.

You instinctively raise a hand to the spot in question, and that’s when it finally dawns on you.

He’s not looking at your ear.

No, he’s looking behind it.

You smile

So your little game of spot the difference was finally over.

“You like it?” You ask smugly

Simon doesn’t know what to say, just eye’s the nape of your neck in bewilderment. This was absolutely not here before. Where your skin was previously unblemished, now contains a tattoo about the size of his thumb.

A skull tattoo.

“When did you get this?” He asks instead, finger coming up to rub over it, almost as if he thinks it’s fake, thinks that the ink will smudge under his thumb.

“‘Bout a week ago.” You admit with a shrug, trying to be nonchalant about it.

His eyes finally shift to your face,”And you didn’t tell me?”

You shoot him an unimpressed look, grabbing his arm that contains the tattoo of your name and pushing it in his face,”Hypocritical much?”

He looks from his arm, to your tattoo, then to your face, as if he was putting together a puzzle.

“Is the tattoo an expression of love or a ploy of revenge?” He asks with suspicion.

You shrug, a smile gracing the corner of your mouth,”Can’t it be both?”

He eyes you for a moment, shaking his head in exasperation, but you could of swore his eyes lit in amusement.

Oh!

You about forgot something!

“Did you notice any details about it, a letter perhaps?” You question coyly.

No he hadn’t

He gently grips your chin to turn it to the side, dipping his head a little to get a closer look.

Oh.

He can see it now.

There’s a few cracks on the side of the skull and , if he looks close enough, he can see that they join to make a letter.

S

“Does tha-does that stand for-“

“Simon? Yeah, yeah it does.”

He stands there, just silently rubbing your tattoo again for a moment. You’re not complaining though, you’re just soaking in his touch. His fingers feel good.

You clear your throat, gently taking a hold of the hand rubbing your neck,”So? You like i-“

You’re cut off by him surging forward, capturing you in a kiss.

Definitely worth the pain of the needle.

-*-

You were both laying in bed after supper, your stomachs full. Full of take-out, not home cooked pasta because you may or may not have gotten distracted and singed the noodles and turned the toast to basically charcoal.

You were in a spooning position, his large arms wrapped around your waist, mask finally taken off in the darkness of your room.

“You know,” He breaks the silence,”I really do appreciate it, the tattoo.”

“Thought it was only fair. You know, with you getting one for me and all.” Your voices are soft, just whispers in the night.

“You know you didn’t have to do it, right? Not just cause I did.” Anyone that didn’t know Simon would judge from his gruff voice that he was bored or uninterested, maybe even irritated. But you did know him, which means you easily pick up on even the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice.

Your brows furrow,”That’s not the only reason I got it.”

When you receive only silence you look over your shoulder at him, “You know that, right?” You ask as if it was obvious. You thought it was.

Once again, you receive only silence. You really wish it wasn’t so dark so you could read his expressions.

You shift your body so that you’re fully facing him.

“Hey,” you reach for the hand around you’re waist and hold it to your chest,”You know I love you right?”

“Yeah?” You don’t like that he sounds so hesitant.

“Simon,” you make sure he knows you’re serious,”I love you. You’re the only person I ever want to love, and I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, and I sure as heck ain’t planning going anywhere anytime soon. So why wouldn’t I want evidence of you on my body?” You use your other hand to cup his cheek.

The breath he lets out sounds shaky, letting you know your little speech hit him right in the way you wanted it to. You can’t see anything but the outline of his figure, though you swear you can feel his gaze piercing you.

He brings the hand you’re not holding to rub the spot behind your ear where you know his initial lies.

“I love you too,” He confesses on a quivering exhale.

You slowly lean in for a kiss, not quite sure where his lips are in the dark but somehow hitting them almost perfectly the first try, almost as if it was second nature to you now. That’s something you never really felt before Simon. Sure you had locked lips with other guys but you never knew there could be such emotion in just a kiss. With him, it’s almost like your minds, as well as your lips, are closely connected for that moment. You can feel the love, the passion, the joy, all of it with just a touch of mouths.

Ghost is the one to break it first, breath fanning over your face as he speaks,”I just have one question.”

“Hm?” Your mind is still frazzled by that short intense make out session.

“Was it when I went to the bar with Johnny that Friday?”

Your mind slowly catches on to what he’s saying, letting out a small giggle. That’s confirmation enough for him.

“And you said you were just gonna have a lazy night in?” His fake anger makes your giggles worse.

“You went to the stinking parlor instead didn’t you?”

You don’t even know why this has tickled you so badly, but soon Simon’s own deep chuckles join yours.

He pulls you into his chest, “Sneaky girl.”

You two just laugh harder

I just read your tattoos tell a Story and I got a random idea (also i love your writing) but I can see reader being friends with soap and while ghost is out on a mission (maybe solo or something) the two get a classic best friend tattoo

if you wanna use this go ahead just thought i would share

also, you dropped this 👑

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader, John “Soap” Mactavish x reader(platonic only).

Warnings: Short intense make out session at the beginning, other than that?, fluff?, some swearing but it’s sensored.

A/n: Your comment honestly made my day🥰 thank you so much for this wonderful idea!

“Mm, I missed you.” You admit, pulling Ghost in for another kiss not caring that your breath hasn’t caught up from the last.

“Missed you too darlin’. So much.” He breathes in between pecks, grip firm on your waist. Pulling you in as if no bodily contact was enough for him. And that’s saying a lot considering how much bodily contact was occurring between you. Almost no part of your entire being was deprived of his touch at the moment. Thighs pressed against thighs, stomach against stomach, chest against chest. Not even a hair could fit in the space your bodies do not fill.

Your hands hold tightly to the short locks of his hair, black balaclava being removed in the privacy of his room in the 141’s base. Simon is starting to realize just how much he loves your hands there.

His kisses begin trailing downward, first your neck, somehow immediately hitting that pulse point that makes you squirm, before trailing lower, down your shoulder, bicep, inner elbow, forearm. He’s so thorough you’d think he was trying to memorize your whole anatomy, he probably is. Until abruptly, he stops.

You slowly blink away the haze your mind has been trapped in, confused by his mouths disappearance. “Si?”

He slowly lifts your arm by its wrist, straightening up from where he was bent slightly over.

“Whas’ this? Wasn’ here before.” And that’s when you realize what he’s looking at, the tattoo, placed towards the bottom of your forearm. You don’t know why, but for a quick second you’re worried that he might be mad about the change you made to your body without his permission. Past trauma you’d guess. But a quick look at his face and a survey of his tone tells you he’s not irritated at all, just curious. Of course he wouldn’t be, it’s Simon.

With the now known knowledge that he’s okay with it, you start to get giddy. A huge toothy smile overtaking your face. All heat from the rather intense make out session completely forgotten in the face of your excitement.

“I forgot we hadn’t told you about that!”

“We?” He questions with furrowed brows, though you ignore him.

You grab the balaclava from his bed, “Here put this on.” You shove it over his head, earning a huff from him as he had to adjust it from where it awkwardly covered his eyes, “It’d be easier if I just showed you.” All of 141 has already seen his face, though you know he’s more comfortable with it on.

You grab his hand, not allowing him time for any more questions before dragging him out the door and down the hall, until you reach the door you were looking for.

Simons head turns towards you,”Why are we at Mactavish’s room?” He asks in suspicion. What had you two idiots done?

You give him a mischievous smile and knock on the door, receiving a distinctly Irish “come in.”

You waste no time in busting through the door. Soap’s sitting on his bed watching some kind of cheesy cooking show, to which Ghost gives a slightly amused smirk under the mask. He’ll definitely be hearing about that later.

“Lt., y/n. To wha’ do I owe th-“ You don’t even let him finish the sentence

“You haven’t showed him?” You hold up your arm for emphasis.

He immediately knows what you mean,”Would’ve, if he wouldn’t of bloody left all of us for his “solo mission”.”

You both know he’s just poking fun, though it still earns him a glare from your boyfriend. Soap glares back, buts it’s all in good nature. At least you think it is.

You roll your eyes, “Alright boys, lets stop comparing sizes shall we?”

You’re not sure about Ghost, but Soap blushes and turns his head away sheepishly. Ghost does too.

“Now, back to the important stuff.” You turn towards Johnny,”Arm, now.” You demand, giving him a “come here” motion.

He leaps off the bed, rolling up his sleeve as he walks up to you with a slight childish skip to his step. He holds out his arm as if it’s show and tell. You do the same with yours. You look at each other, a sh*t-eating grin on both your faces as you try to contain your child-like giggles, before turning to gouge Simon’s reaction.

He stares at your conjoined arms with that same expressionless look to his eyes. He looks back up, flicking his gaze between you two.

There’s a tense silence.

Until

“What the f*ck is that?”

And that’s the drop of water that breaks the dam. You and Soap absolutely loose it, laughing so hard you can’t see through your tears. Forced to lean on each other for support when your knees become too weak.

“Come on Lt., ya know it’s f*ckin’ funny.” Johnny wheezes in between belted laughs, lightly patting your back.

“Yeah Si!”

He completely ignores your taunts, shaking his head as if scolding children,”Idiots, the lot of you.” He says it light enough to where you’re not worried he’s actually annoyed, before turning to leave, closing the door behind him, successfully cutting off Mactavish’s, “Ah come on Ghost, live a l-“

And if he lets out a little amused huff when he shuts the door, well, Johnny never has to know.

-+-

Later that night, in the dark safety of your own bedroom, in which Simon is staying the night, you hear a slight rumble from his side of the bed. Your eyes snap open, afraid he’s having a nightmare of some sort. Wouldn’t be the first time. Slowly, as to not startle him, you turn towards him with practiced ease, prepared to gently calm him from his panic as you always do. Until you see his expression in the dim moonlight coming from your window, eyes catching on the white of his teeth.

“You’re laughing.” You state incredulously.

“No I’m not.” He defends as if you can’t see him chuckling right in front of you

You can’t help but smile, his joy infectious,”Yes, you are. Why are you laughing?”

For a second he just continues on, not answering, until he calms himself down enough to get out-,”That d*mn tattoo.” Before desolving in deep chuckles again.

His explanation gets you tickled, so, you join him in his amusement, your laughter making his worse and vice versa. It goes on for several minutes. Just as one of you start to quiet down and you think it’s over, the other will start again, setting them both off once more

Finally, you both quiet your laughs into something softer, catching your breath.

“I knew you liked it.” You both bust into booming laughter again, even louder this time.

Heads thrown back against your pillows, your laughter descended on into the late of night.

“Can you hold my wand for me?”

Disclaimer: Since so many seem to love my first post, I decided to do this “sequel.”

Context: You’re being sent out on a recon mission and to decide to leave your wand with one of the boys.

Price

“Of course, son. I’ll keep it safe.”

This man knows that your wand is very important to you, and if it’s important to you, it’s important to him.

He also feels very honored that you chose him to safeguard your wand, as this shows you not only hold him in high regard, but also trust him with this very important object.

While he’s out of the base, he keeps your wand inside a protective case inside his kit. While he hates to take it into the field and risk it breaking, he takes confidence in the fact he personally oversaw the case’s production and gave orders to spare NO expense in its creation. The outside is composed of a military-grade alloy that can withstand fire, bullets, and even explosives while the inside is covered in soft fabric that cradles the wand, keeping it in place no matter what. And keeping it sealed is a military-grade electronic locking device that can only be opened with a 6 digit code (it’s the date you officially joined the 141).

While he’s in the base, he keeps it on a stand he whittled himself on his desk. While he’s filling out paperwork, he can’t help but look up at it every so often and he smiles when he thinks of all the moments he’s seen you cast spells that have saved their lives countless times.

But God help you if you so much as breath on the thing. He has it the way he wants it and your wand is his responsibility. Anyone found even bumping it slightly out of place will face harsh consequences. Just ask Steve the Rookie.

Steve, entering Price’s office: “You asked to see me, Captain?” Price: Takes his cigar out from his mouth. “Of course, Private. Please, take a seat.” Steve: Sits and accidentally bumps into his desk, knocking off your wand from its stand. “Sorry, Captain.” Places the wand back on its stand.” Price: Breaks his cigar in half, his eye twitching like crazy. “Not a problem, Private. Take 50 laps when you leave. And if you’re not done by sundown, add another 50.”

Gaz

“I’ll take good care of it, Y/N! I promise!”

And he does. Seriously, he immediately puts it in his locker in his quarters and is secured with 3 locks, all of which require 3 different keys.

Soap, of course, tries to get him to give it to him, which he automatically said no. The Scotsman doesn’t know the meaning of the word and keeps annoying him for the next few hours until finally he relents and takes it out of his locker.

Of course, this leads to a whole new argument. “You said look, Soap. You use your eyes to look, not your hands.” “Oh come on, I just want to hold it for a little bit! Maybe we can use some of his spells!” “That’s not how it works, Soap! Or is it…”

This leads to the two of them going out to the training ground, taking turns casting spells you’ve used before, trying to get your wand to do the same for them.

“It’s Leviosa, not Leviosaaa, Soap.” “Keep saying that, and the next spell I try is Silencio, Gaz!”

Despite his protests during this ordeal, Soap is a friend and he trusts him to be careful while he’s guarding this most important item. Just as he does the rest of Ghost Team, Los Vaqueros, and Konig. Anyone outside this sphere tries to hold it, they’re gonna have some problems. Just ask Steve

Gaz: polishing your wand like he’s seen you before. Steve: “Hey, is that Merlin’s wand? I’ve always wanted to hold it. Can I-“ The whole base witnesses Gaz chasing Steve while screaming several threats.

Ghost

“Sure.”

Despite him sounding so indifferent, he’s positively ecstatic that you trust him so much as to leave him with the most important tool to a wizard.

And he’s determined to not let you down.

At first, he was going to keep it in his room, locked in his desk, but then he thought about someone breaking in and stealing it. Sure, the base is full of highly trained soldiers prepped for combat, but he’s an army onto himself and decides that it would be safer if he kept it at all times.

Of course, this leads to a bunch of other problems: Soap.

Once he finds out that the Lieutenant is tasked with your wand’s safekeeping, the Sargent immediately confirms him and practically begs to be allowed to see (hold) it.

He allows the Scot one look, and that’s that. And no, he may not hold it.

“But, Lt, I want to hold it!” “Negative.”

We all know that once this man is given a mission, he will stop at NOTHING to accomplish it. And if people get in this way, he will be the last thing they never see. Steve found that out the hard way.

Ghost: walking down the hall, about to turn a corner. Steve: turns the same corner, but from the opposite direction, and bumps into Ghost, making him drop your wand. “Oh, sorry Lieutenant Riley!” Gives him back the wand and carries on when he suddenly knocked out.

Soap

“The wand chooses the wizard…”

Sure, you chose him to watch over your wand, but he’s sure your wand told you to give it to him! Therefore, he’s a (sort-of) wizard!

This man will brag to everyone on the base! Hell, he’ll even get a hold of Laswell and tell her about his new job as Wand Watcher. “That’s nice, Soap, now can I get back to work? I’m trying to locate a terrorist cell in the Middle East.”

At night, he sits at his desk, drawing your wand into his journal, putting all his energy to painstakingly recreate it on paper. From the the tiny indentations made from you grasping it, to the nearly invisible cracks in the wood. He also writes down all that you’ve taught him about wandlore, from the three supreme wand cores to how wands are sentient in their own way.

Look, as serious as this man is, he cannot resist the temptation of going out to the training grounds and waving your wand around exactly like you and pronouncing the spells as you do.

Hell, Gaz will join in. You have no idea how many times Price and Ghost have walked in on them playing with your wand. “Expelliarmus! Pst… Gaz, you have to drop your gun…” “Oh, right, sorry!”

Look, as much as this man loves to wave his new found responsibility in everyone’s faces, but he takes it very seriously. Also, only he is allowed to wave your wand around, trying to use your spells! So back the hell up, Steve, before you get smacked the hell up!

Soap, waving your wand around at Gaz: ”Bombarda! Bombarda Maxima!” Steve: “Whoa, Merlin left you with his wand? Cool! Hey, think I can wave it around a bit, sir?” Soap: “Away n’ bile yer head!” Steve: “…Uh… excuse me, sir?” Soap: Angry Scottish noises. This leads to Soap chasing Steve while shouting Scottish swears at the poor rookie, Gaz joining in because he’s angry their playtime got interrupted.

Alejandro

“Of course, hermano. On my honor, nothing will happen to it.”

This man’s word is his bond. Every time his squad gets new men, he always delivers the same speech. The moment they become his, he promises that he will never leave a man behind and he will do everything in his power to bring everyone home.

Therefore, he keeps your wand under his watch. Never once does it leave his sight and he denies any and all requests to give it to anyone else. Except Rudy, because that’s his brother. He can be trusted.

If, for any reason, he ABSOLUTELY has to leave the wand behind, he runs to his unit’s barracks, no matter how far away, and locks it in his footlocker, where he keeps all his other worldly possessions, like a photo of him and Rudy as kids and a pistol his father gave him when he first joined the Mexican Army.

At first, he denies his men the “privilege “ of seeing it, much to their dismay. Although, after he gets a few drinks, he allows them to see it. But only for a few moments. He may be drunk, but he still knows this is an important task and he must keep his promise.

As you can imagine, him being named your wand’s guardian causes a bit of tension between the 141 and Los Vaqueros. As Price argues, you’re technically a part of the 141; therefor, one of them should have it. Preferably him. Of course, this causes him to become more protective of it. Unfortunately, Steve was left out of the loop of you leaving your wand with Alejandro and the 141 and LV blood feud over it.

Steve, walking into the mess hall and sees Merlin’s wand left on a table: “Should that be left here? Maybe I should take it to the Captain.” Alejandro, seeing Steve trying to pick up the wand and explodes in Spanish: “Hey, fucking asshole! Trying to steal Merlin’s wand? Did your captain put you up to this?” Steve, confused as hell: “What? I don’t… I’m just trying to take Merlin’s wand to the Captain…”. Alejandro: “You sonuvabitch, I’ll kill you!” Cue poor Steve being chased by the entire Las Vaqueros, all of whom are yelling curse at him in Spanish.

Konig

“Of course, Maus! I’ll keep it safe!”

And oh boy… does he…

Special Order 937 is now in effect. Priority One: Protect Wand Until Merlin’s Return. All Other Considerations Secondary. Teammates Expendable.

Kidding! …But not really. This man may be socially awkward 25/8, but while he’s given this task, he pushes all that to the back of his mind and keeping you wand is the only thing he thinks about.

And he takes it to the extreme!

Like, when he’s not needed in the field or training, he tucks your wand into a safe he purchased just for this task and stands by it, still as a statue and his rifle at attention like the guards at Buckingham Palace. And anyone who gets too close for his liking is yelled at and warned to back up or else. Avery one on the base is terrified as they’ve never seen the Australian this focused (except for Ghost, he respects Konig for taking his mission so seriously). As usual, however, Steve is left out of the loop.

Steve, approaching Konig and the safe: “Hey, I heard Merlin asked you to watch his wand. Do you think I can see it? Just for a moment?” Konig: “No, sir. Please step away from the area, or I will be forced to take defensive measures.” Steve, taking a step over. The yellow line he’s drawn around the safe: “Oh, come on! It’s not going to hurt anyone!” Konig: “So you have chosen death.” He then proceeds to life Steve up in the air and drop him over his knee like he’s done to so many enemies (although he doesn’t do it so hard). Poor Steve is then taken to the infirmary to recover.

Everyone, if you could please leave an ‘f’ in the comments for Steve. He sacrificed his safety for your education. Thanks to him, you know now your fate should you try to steal the wand they’ve been tasked with protecting.

@forsworned Liebling i fear you ate.

If you have the time could you maybe make a pt3? 🥺🔫 (ONLY IF U HAVE THE TIME AND MOTIVATION OFC OFC! 💞)

part one

cw: onlyfans!simon, canon universe, cybersex, solo sex/masturbation, being simon's good girl while he has some downtime, parasocial relationship???

author's note: and let me say this once to be clear, if you don't know how to ask for a part two properly without giving some sort of positive feedback and instead demand it from me you will get a verbal spanking from me and i will embarrass you, i do not care

Your breath catches as you gawk at your phone, rereading the message. The sensation of anxiety pricks at you causing you to perspire under your pits and the temple of your forehead.

The thought of him—TacticalHeat—or Ghost or whatever the hell his name is waiting on the other side, possibly stroking himself at the notion of you joining him on a private call sends a rush of arousal up your spine.

Ping!

TacticalHeat: You still there, lovie?

Oh, fuck. You card your fingers through your hair and let out a heavy exhale. It's awful timing really. Like getting caught with your pants down...literally.

Fingers sticky with lube and your own arousal, you stretch your limbs to open the drawer of your nightstand and pull out a wet wipe to clean off your hands and get a gander at the state of your appearance. It's slightly disheveled, but honestly? In a super sexy bedhead kind of way.

You wipe the corners of your eyes to remove the accumulated smudged mascara from your gruesome work day and let a sharp expire through your nose. Well, if you were going to do this, you'd at least look hot doing it.

You: Yeah, I'm here.

TacticalHeat: So what do you think, lovie...you up for it?

"Fuck!" You exclaim to yourself, not realizing that your dumbass forgot to reply to his original message. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment, tracing circles in the air as you try to unscramble your mind.

You: Now works...what do you have in mind?

The three dots appear almost instantly like he's waiting for your response with the same fiery intensity that has you gripping at your phone.

TacticalHeat: I'll send you a link. I wanna see you, too.

Ghost has invited you to a Zoom meeting.

Your heart pounds rapidly against your ribcage, and you feel the heat sidling to your cheeks. You hadn't expected this to escalate so quickly, to be pushed into the spotlight. And yet, the idea of him watching you is thrilling.

With trembling fingers, you adjust the lighting in your room and the camera on your phone to ensure you're getting the best quality. One last look in the mirror to smooth out your hair, and make sure your top reveals a little cleavage before you tap on the link, muddying your phone screen with oils on your finger.

Twiddling with the tripod that sits by the edge of your bed as the link loads, you clip on your phone and sit back while you wait to get accepted. He wastes no time getting you out of the waiting room and you watch as the screen shifts, and suddenly, there he is. Simon's half-lidded gaze fixates on you, his familiar skull-mask in place, but this time it's different. He's relaxed, clad in a black loose-fitted henley that outlines his taut physique, and he's manspreading in light-wash denim jeans, hands exposed and you're already aching at the sight. It's an intimate setting and the atmosphere shifts when he gets a real gander at you. His gravelly voice sends a frisson up your spine:

"There's my good girl," he purrs, and just like that you're hooked.

There's a moment where your heart drops to your ass, and you let out a little shaky breath before giving him a shy smile. His gaze doesn't waver. It's intense and focused as he drinks in every detail of your appearance. You're half wondering what he thinks of you and half focused on the hoarseness in his voice when he calls you 'good girl'. How the blood rushes to your face and your trepidation tingles on your skin.

"Hi," You finally muster up and you swear his dark eyes light up, or maybe it's the delusion that spikes into your prefrontal cortex. "I'm a bit, um, surprised that you wanted to chat like this."

His mask warps in the corner of where you assume his lips are indicating a smirk. "I like a bit of spontaneity," he says, leaning closer to the camera. "Besides I wanted to see how you would handle this."

You avert your gaze for a moment, feeling hot all over again. He notes how you suck in your bottom and how your dilated eyes flicker all over the screen, a subtle sign that your adrenaline is pumping. He wishes he could hear your heart beating through the screen.

Your fingers delicately trace over your collarbone, "what do you wanna see?" your voice drops to a sultry whisper.

His eyes darken and he takes a slow breath as fixates on you, taking in all your subtle gestures and the silkiness in your dulcet tone.

"Show me how you've missed me," he rasps. "show me what you've been doing while you've waited for me."

Christ, you want to melt into your mattress. You knew it was a playful gesture to create a more intimate atmosphere between you two, even if it wasn't true.

The challenge in his tone exhilarates you with a hint of collywobbles that infest your tummy. With a quick glance at your full-size mirror mounted on your closet door, you begin to tug at the strap of your skimpy top, teasingly revealing enough of your skin to keep him riveted.

And it works.

As you continue, you can hear the jingling of his belt being unbuckled and the sound of his zipper going down.

Your blown eyes are entranced by how he frees himself from the waistband of his briefs and you’re driveling over how the muscles under the porcelain skin of his cock twitches. He tilts his head back, transfixed on how you’re exposing your pebbled bud to him.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly as you squeeze your breasts between your fingers. “Every inch of you looks perfect, lovie.”

You practically fawn over his compliments. He’s praising you, watching you, getting off to you. And that feeling is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You feel liberated and exposed, knowing that he’s eagerly watching you as the lines blur. This feeling consumes you, consumes him, and soon you’re stripping off your panties and he doesn’t even bother to hide the groan that escapes his lips. 

“Look at you, absolutely stunning. Every bit of you…” His tone changes when you part your silken, glistening folds. “Touch yourself for me, lovie.”

It’s a demanding tone. One that sends a frisson up your spinal column and you feel the need to please, but there’s another side of you that awakens. The kind that crawls out when you’re being railroaded by a domineering man. 

“Say please,” You wave your wand around. 

He softly snorts at your attempt at trying to tame him, but he humors you, “Please, lovie. I crave ya.”

And that’s enough to inflate your ego. Your fingers switch on the vibrator and you tease it over your clit, bucking your hips at your sensitive clit. 

There’s a twitch in his eyes when they widen. Like the light in his head switched on. “So you’ve been playing with yourself, have you, pretty girl?” he coos, sitting up a bit more. Oh, you’ve really got his attention now. 

Your heart flutters at the same rate that your pussy does when you realize he takes note of your current over aroused state. “Maybe,” you give him a coquettish grin. 

As you take the initiative and push the boundaries with him, a rumbling growl emits from him. His gaze intensifies as they lock on yours with a mixture of surprise and approval. He loves a good brat.

“Is that so?” he susurrates, his tone oozes with amusement. He likes the way your pretty face glimmers with the excitement to satisfy him. “You wanna take control now, do you?”

He shifts in his seat. “Go on then, lovie.” he gestures to you, and oh how his dick creams at the sight of you shaking your legs on for, gasping at the vibrating sensation of your toy caressing your cunt. You’re really such a site for sore eyes.

“Such a pretty pussy,”he praises with a husky voice that makes your heart race. The saccharine moans that leave your lips as you spasms against the silicone while you instruct him to tug at himself. 

He obliges because how can he not when you’re looking so fucking luscious on the other side of the camera as you winsomely order him to smear the opulent precum that oozes from his angry, swollen tip. A little sob leaves your lips when you see how compliant he is, and how his chest shudders at your words and creamy cries of delight. 

“Just like that,” he encourages, pumping at himself and in an instant the tables turn, and you’re more than willing to let him take control. He pants at the sight of your parted, saliva-lacquered lips and lolled back eyes. “No one else gets to see you like this. Only me.”

And that sentence alone leaves you breathless. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles, through his own labored breaths. The raw emotions in his voice makes it clear how much he’s affected by you, “God, you’re everything I want and more.”

And that does it for you because your orgasm rips through you like a hurricane and you feel your spine involuntarily arch in pleasure, peaked breasts splayed out as your pussy rapidly pulsates on full display for him. They bounce at your ragged breaths and throes of passion and he’s quick to follow, elongating the pleasure of your peak. His velvety, opulent cum spurts out in plentiful, white cords as he bucks his hips and throws his head back. His guttural moans are like music to your ears and you’re quaking at the pure rapture. 

There’s a long moment of silence as you both come down from your highs. A laugh leaves your lips, and a wry grin twitches at his features under his balaclava. You’re no longer dripping nerves. Your smile lights up the room, and his heart swells at the sight of your afterglow. Your confidence shines through and he’s still hard. Not a very common occurrence in the world of Ghost.

Your eyes flicker to his girthy cock and your grin spreads. His eyes follow yours and he chuckles and gently pumps himself, “not every day that happens.”

You cock a brow. “What the inviting me for a cybersex sesh, or the staying hard after cumming part?”

He barks out a hearty laugh, “Both I s’ppose.” he softly plashes. “Really got me goin’ there, lovie.”

And the nickname brings you back to life. Maybe you really were delirious because you can sense that his eyes display a different range of lingering emotions--persisting lust and a genuine admiration. You can’t help but to feel a little victorious as you watch him continue to stroke himself, even after the both of you reached your peak.

“Not everyday I meet someone who can keep up with me,” he rasps. He lets out a breath of satisfaction.

You tilt your head, a coy smile etches into your lips. “Guess I’m just full of surprises,” you reply softly. There’s that sensual confidence seeping into your tone and it shows on your body.

He chuckles. It’s low and alluring and it causes gooseberries to trail up your skin. “That you are, lovie,” he counters, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. His voice makes you feel warm and gooey. “Could get used to this…to you.”

The implication hangs heavy in the air making his interest in you clear and undeniable. Your heart skips a beat as the heat between you simmers again. It’s no longer the deviancy alone that tips him off, it’s the fact that he’s brought out a different side of you.  

“Maybe next time,” your voice is low and tempting as your eyes motion to his still-engorged length. “you’ll let me show you how much more I can handle.”

His smirk widens under his mask, and his hunger for you multiplies. “Count on it.” he replies with the promise of fulfilling that request.

You both share a yearning moment. The spark between you is electrifying and certainly obvious. You decide to make the first move as you sit up to hover your sticky thumb over the end call button, “Good night, Ghost.”

He chews at the end of his cheek and his eyes crinkle signaling that he was smiling wide. “Good night, lovie.”

There’s no doubt in your mind that this won’t be the last time you’ll see each other like this.

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