Tumgik
#in this case simon just wants to be close
erinfern0 · 5 hours
Text
husband simon "ghost" riley
Tumblr media
husband!simon who cried while reading his vows, looking around the venue to see his team cheering for the both of you. They're one of the few people invited from his side of the room, but it was all the family he had and needed.
husband!simon who feels like he waited for this moment his whole life, the moment you finally said yes, giving yourself to him fully. Wearing the fanciest piece of clothing he ever had, saying the most important words he ever did, standing right beside you was a dream come true.
husband!simon who wouldn't drink a lot during your party, just admiring the view of you dancing and being so happy for him, with him. Especially enjoys when Kyle and Johnny stumble upon you and chuckle, pushing you towards the dance floor, having the time of their lives at the wedding of their favorite couple.
husband!simon who would take secret pictures of you, especially if you fall asleep amongst some guests. Head on Price's shoulder, Kyle's lap, or tangled up with Johnny on the couch in the hallway of the venue. He'll definitely torment you with them later, especially since you didn't really have a chance to get back at him as he has a spider-like sense for cameras and quickly avoids them.
husband!simon who's the happiest man alive beside you and would do absolutely anything to make you happy too. Acts of service are his favorite way to show you his love, especially when he's back from deployment for some time. Doing most chores and bringing you hot tea every morning,
husband!simon who spends as much time with you as he can, usually at home where he can just pull you close without caring for others. Grabbing your hips while you wash the dishes or pulling your waist when you try to get out of bed are a must.
husband!simon who just can't resist you, thinking about you all the time. Being far or close doesn't matter, you're on his mind 24/7. You can sleep beside him or be a thousand kilometers away, he's still thinking about you. If he can't see your face in the morning, he'd just imagine it with a smile on his face.
husband!simon who attends therapy regularly so he can be a better version of himself for the both of you. Especially if you're planning to make your little family a bigger one.
husband!simon who suffers from sleepless nights whenever you argue. He can't just fall asleep when you've just argued, so in most cases, he occupies his mind by cleaning the entire house or filling in some missing reports.
husband!simon who gets his stuff after the argument and gets ready to sleep on the couch, only to smirk when you enter the living room and make him come back to bed. You can't sleep without him as much as he can't without you. Yeah, you may not talk, but his arm will find its' way around your waist as you fall asleep.
husband!simon's favorite way to make up after an argument is waking you up with his arms around your frame and soothing apologies spilling from his lips. He loves the way you immediately pull him closer and comply, adding your own apologies to the mix.
husband!simon who is too old to care about morning breath, if you don't mind, he'll put a thousand kisses all over your face at any time of the day, especially to wake you up.
husband!simon who brags about you to his mates and won't shut up even if they complain. That's the price they pay after begging him to get to know more about his secret little love before.
husband!simon doesn't care about the money, because let's face it —he's got tons of it and will gladly spend it on you. Buys you secret gifts that he hides around the house before deployment, so you don't miss him too much.
husband!simon leaves the room whenever you call him. Your conversations are sacred, no matter how much his team wants to say hello, it's your time. They can call you themselves if they are so interested.
husband!simon who becomes a handyman as soon as you ask for anything. Your shelf is not leveled properly, and the sink is broken? Don't worry, love, he'll take care of it.
husband!simon who watches lots of documentaries with you in your free time. Also, secretly enjoys cooking shows and even more secretly — makeover TV shows. Especially the ones where they turn alternative-looking people into some normies, and loves to complain that they rip them off all their personalities.
husband!simon will get a matching tattoo with you. Probably already has some that remind him of you.
husband!simon who becomes very conversational, something you wouldn't expect the day you two meet. If you finally let him open up, he's yapping all the time with you, just rambles about all the little things that are on his mind.
husband!simon who very much enjoys those conversations while you two have sex, makes it even more sweet and domestic in his mind. Most of the time, you two talk about plans for the day or random chores that you need to finish while he pounds into you, making you both giggle and out of breath.
husband!simon definitely changes his tone around you. When Johnny heard that for the first time, his jaw dropped at the soft way he talked to you.
husband!simon who does everything in his power to protect you. The address he doesn't share with anyone, burner phones to contact you while being deployed, highest quality security. Most of the time uses nicknames instead of your name when in public, and probably one or two guard dogs that are y'alls most-loved pets (he pretends not to see how you spoil them while he's gone).
husband!simon who takes you on nice vacations whenever he can to make up for the time you two lost while he was deployed.
husband!simon who cannot see his future without you, you're stuck with him for eternity.
Tumblr media
masterlist | request info
56 notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 5 months
Text
Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Protective Simon. For the beautiful and talented @lethalchiralium
Tumblr media
Simon’s phone is ringing. 
Price raises an eyebrow from the end of the table, pausing mid-sentence, confused. Simon’s phone never rings. It’s always on full volume, because he never gets phone calls, except for ones from the 141, and they’re all here. At this briefing.  
His fingers find the ringer, ready to silence what he’s sure is a nuisance call, some telemarketer or robot, when he reads your name across the screen. 
You’ve never called him before. Unease tightens across his chest, and without any explanation, he excuses himself from the room and the bewildered looks being cast his way. 
“Hey, you-“
“Simon?” You sound off. Like you’re trying to be calm, but there’s something lingering on the edge of your voice, something scared. His spine goes stiff. 
It’s enough to propel him into action, his fist thumping against the window of the brief room, jerking his head south. I’m leaving, the motion signifies. Emergency.
“What’s wrong?” 
“N-nothing. Just… there’s this guy that’s been like, half a block behind me since I got off the train.” He closes his eyes. The fucking train. He wants you to stop taking the train. He needs you to stop taking the train. 
“He followed you from the platform?” 
“Well, he could be walking this way too…” 
“Where are you?” His keys are already in his hand, and he’s running down the hallway, past bewildered administrative staff and everyone else, bursting through the back door and into the truck. His phone chimes with multiple text messages, Price, Johnny, Gaz. All wondering where the hell he ran off to. Only Johnny’s text scratches the surface: Is it your neighbor? He waits another second in silence, hoping you’re trying to get your bearings. “Sweetheart?” 
“I’m… I think we’re coming up on seventh and Warsail. ‘m not too sure. I’ve kind been walking in a roundabout way.” We’re coming up on seventh… we. 
The baby is with you. 
His foot slams the accelerator onto the floor, counting his breaths as he maneuvers each turn in the road. Do you have the stroller? Are you carrying her? Did this guy peg you as an easy target because he knows what Simon knows, that women are more likely to go along with instruction if their child is threatened? That you’d never leave Emmaline behind? That you’d do anything to protect her? 
He feels sick. 
“Are there other people around?” He’s calm on the phone, trying to visualize the street, the buildings, the alleys. Easy spots where cars could reach the highway in seconds, and then be gone. Cramped alleys that connect to others like tangled webs, able to swallow a human being easy, disappear them into the darkness. It makes his stomach turn over. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel so hard; it hurts.
“Yeah, it’s close to the end of the day, so-“ 
“Stay where others can see you. Are you sure you’re on seventh and Warsail?” 
“Yeah. We’re in that park. I-I… wanted to take Emma to see the ducks.” Your voice wavers. “Simon he’s still behind us.” He’s turning the corner now, a block from your cross streets, and instead of yielding for oncoming traffic like he should, he floors it through an intersection, abandoning the truck still on, half parked in an empty street spot.  “Stay where you are, sweetheart. Okay? I’m coming.” 
“You… wait, what? You’re what?” He doesn’t hang up, but keeps the phone against his ear, and takes off down the street in a sprint, fully subscribed to the worst-case scenarios that have been building in his mind, images of you and Emmaline bloody and bruised, or worse. He gets them confused for a moment, memories mixing with the present, two things swirling together until they become indistinguishable, noise and panic roaring too loudly in his head. 
It all comes screeching to a stop. 
He spots you in the park. You do have the stroller, and you’re by the little pond, headphones in, Emmaline in your arms, her little beanie pulled down over her ears. You’re glancing around, nervous, saying his name into the mic. He scans the rest of the faces, passing over anyone who doesn’t strike him as a creepy git, until he finds his target: a skinny, younger guy lurking on the edge of the fence line, watching you. He hangs up the phone and moves across the park involuntarily, rolling his shoulders, and he vaguely sees you from the corner of his eye, mouth dropped open in shock, faintly calling his name. 
“Hey, mate. C’mere.” He shouts, half the people in the vicinity startling in his direction. Everyone seems to move away, like a magnetic force, pulsing outwards as he overtakes the guy with an easy grab to his upper arm. “You like stalking women with babies?” He hisses in his ear, voice low with barely contained rage. The guy is younger than him, but rail thin, and coked out. Probably looking for money. Simon jerks him closer, and he actually yells for help, like he’s a victim. It’s enough to ground the situation, making Simon realize he has an audience, and he grits out a final warning before shoving him away. “I ever see you around my girls again… I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Piss off.” 
“What did he say?” You’re frantic, rubbing Emmaline’s back in a circular pattern, over and over like you’re trying to calm her, even though she’s perfectly content. It’s you who needs soothing, he realizes, and he takes your hand without questioning it, letting his instincts guide him in regard to you without overthinking it. 
“He was high, love. Looking for money.” He doesn’t want to scare you but… he doesn’t despise the idea of instilling some hypervigilance. Maybe this will convince you not to take the train. 
“Oh my god.” 
“Think I scared him off for good though.” He looks around, and then slips off his mask, wide thumb stroking a soft touch on Emma’s cheek before giving you a gentle squeeze. “It’s alright now.” You visibly relax, but don’t let go of his hand, tilting your face up to his, all bright and beautiful, still coming down from the adrenaline of your fear with a whisper on your lips, meant for only him to hear. 
“Our hero.”
4K notes · View notes
peppermint-toads · 2 months
Text
*not proofread at all not even a little*
simon had finally, finally left you the fuck alone.
he’d been staying the night at your apartment for days on end, not that you minded. not really, at least.
you only started getting frustrated when you started getting… frustrated.
he’d left to go do some grocery shopping because you had “no fucking food in your house.” he needed to eat. sue him.
you played it casual, shrugging and throwing a sarcastic apology at him as he left. as soon as the door slammed shut, you were running to your bedroom and flinging open your nightstand drawer.
you grabbed your pink vibrator, a nice g-spot one.
this had to be quick. you’d never live it down if simon came home to see you in the midst of that. you got right to business, holding the power button until the familiar buzz overtook you.
you didn’t hear simon reentering. cheeky bastard only caused a ruckus when he was leaving.
“forgot it’s sunday love, shops are closed by now,” simon chuckled to himself. you didn’t respond, and you were nowhere to be seen. ah, your door was closed. you probably just wanted a nap.
simon approached, and his heart dropped when he heard cries of pain? he was immediately reaching for the door handle, but then the pain morphed into a sound he’d never heard you make. it was whinier than a cry of pain. it gave him pause.
“holy fuck! yes, yes, yes, yes!”
oh.
simon was totally not supposed to hear you climaxing.
he heard rustling behind the door and the squeak of your mattress as you got up. he’d memorized every creak the floor made and you were heading straight for him.
he took a few steps back as to hopefully look casual.
you opened your door with your eyes squeezed shut, arms reaching into the air as you stretched, shaking off the last bits of stress that washed away with your orgasm.
when you opened your eyes you were met with a rather stiff looking simon. why was he feeling so embarrassed? he’d gone to war for chrissakes and can’t handle just hearing the female orgasm?
luckily, you were completely oblivious.
“shops are closed. it’s sunday.” he repeated, more meekly this time.
“oh, okay. i’m sure there’s something in there. i’ll whip somethin’ up for you after i shower.”
you shoved past him and into the bathroom. the squeak of the shower head was mere background noise to all the thoughts racing through simon’s brain.
he stood paralyzed for at least two minutes.
the sliver of mussed sheets he could see through your cracked door was all too tempting.
he sat on your warm bed, and he swore he could smell you. he looked over at your nightstand. no. he shouldn’t. he can’t. that’d be wrong. so, so wrong.
andddd he’s reaching for the drawer.
he sees the toy, can see the slick on it from where you’d hastily shoved it back in just in case simon came home before you could clean it.
it was still warm. he looked at it, imagined the almost painful moans tearing from your throat. and he laughed. he laughed! the absolute gall of this man.
he’s sorry, it was just so small compared to him. he’d hate to imagine the struggle you’d go through taking him. he actually doesn’t hate it. he really loves it. loves it so much actually, all the blood in his entire giant body rushes right to his cock.
he leaves. immediately. he runs, literally runs, back to his apartment to rub one out. he returns to your apartment about an hour later with takeout in hand.
“didn’t want you to have to cook anything, love,” he lied. and you were none the wiser
2K notes · View notes
sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months
Text
A Gift for Simon
Tumblr media
Warnings: No Thoughts – Only Fluff, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
Imagine you go up to Simon and you present him with an Altoid tin wallet. “I remember you saying your wallet broke the other day, so I thought maybe you could use this one until you got a new one :-).”
And you pass him a tiny little tin that, initially, leaves Simon both curious and confused. When he opens it, however, his breath catches in his throat, his heart stutters.
It’s perfectly furnished inside, tailored to his exact tastes based on morsels of information you’ve either discovered by accident or Simon has told you. You’ve made a little velvet pocket in the lid, the material Simon’s favourite colour, “So you can put your emergency money in there. I always put my coins in mine in case I need to get the bus home or buy some milk,” you tell him.
The idea of you doing something so domestic and, in some vein, humble, only endears you more to Simon. He should be taking you places; you shouldn’t be using your own money when you have him.
He says none of this, of course.
The other half is decorated with a quote cut out from his favourite book, stuck behind a fresh tube of chapstick and an elasticated hoop for him to put his house key in.
He wonders if you know his lips are chapped, whether you’ve looked at them as often as he finds himself watching yours whenever you accost him, privilege him with your time.
Regardless of how close the two of you are, whether you’re just acquainted neighbours or the closest of lovers, all Simon wants to do is wrap his arms around you and hold you as tight as you’ll allow. He wants to keep you all to himself, keep your kindness all for him, selfish in his endeavour to hide it from everyone else.
He knows it will be his undoing — this act of generosity you have bestowed unto him. But he can’t bring himself to fault it, even down to the idea that perhaps you expect something back from him. He’ll gladly give you anything you want if only you ask.
But you didn’t. You just smiled, bade him goodbye, and left to go about your day.
Not that you’d notice, but Simon held off on getting a new wallet for some time after that. Whenever you asked him, he’d tell you it slipped his mind, that the wallet you gave him is doing a good job anyway. Why put all the time you spent on it to waste, he thinks. And one day, he hopes he can say it, tell you to your face how his heart flurries, stutters whenever his fingers brush over that tiny tin wallet, whenever he holds it, Thumbelina in his behemoth hands. He feels your fingers there, painstaking piecing together a dream into this physical form, gossamer in its beauty, perishable in its disposition. Warm, warmth like he’s never known, and care. It’s visceral, palpable, and Simon holds it in his hand and never lets go. Not so long as he has breath in his body.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account
1K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 2 months
Text
Mean Boyfriend Simon "Ghost" Riley
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, clit stimulation, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, biting, size kink, creampie, slight free use
A/N: He can be a bit mean sometimes.
Tumblr media
Mean boyfriend!Simon acts like he doesn't notice how much you want to come. When he pulls out of you and goes off to do something else, leaving you unsatisfied because you were a brat he pretends he doesn't see how your eyes tear up. Or how you follow him like a puppy, your whole body buzzing with the need to come.
Mean boyfriend!Simon fingers you from behind at the most sudden times. You could be making dinner and he'll walk up behind you, shove his big hand down the back of your pants and push two fingers in your pussy. He knows you'll let him, he knows you miss him so much you'll take him whenever you can get him.
Mean boyfriend!Simon makes big bites around your nipples so his teeth marks are visible there for days later. He will do the same thing on your inner thighs, he loves feeling them twitched under his mouth. It's probably his favorite part to bite, other then your ass.
Mean boyfriend!Simon curves his finger upwards as he pulls it out and the back in but he does it at a speed at which he knows isn't enough for you to come. He pulls it out fully, watching your poor cunt clench around air, begging for something, anything to be back in it. His finger, his cock, his tongue, toys, it doesn't matter. But his cock would be ideal.
Mean boyfriend!Simon holds your ass like a bowl he's slurping from when he's eating you out. Marks are left behind in his wake because you can't stay still, so he has to use a little force to make you. When he pulls away and is drenched in your slick he has the biggest grin on his face because he made you come with his tongue alone.
Mean boyfriend!Simon thumbs at your clit when he knows you're close. You beg, scream, whimper for him not to stop again, you'll go crazy if he pulls away now. In his opinion you're at your most beautiful when you're a desperate mess just like this, and it's his greatest badge of honor to reduce you to it.
Mean boyfriend!Simon slaps your pussy when he tells you that you've been a bad girl. For example if you come without him telling you to, or you give into your needs when he's deployed and send him videos of yourself riding toys or choking on them. You don't look like someone who deserves anything less then a punishment.
Mean boyfriend!Simon creampies all three of your holes in one night. Not even the most thorough shower will get the smell of cum and sex off you when he's done. Which isn't a bad thing in his case, he likes it when you smell like him, and when you get that happy smile on your face while getting more cum on your body.
Mean boyfriend!Simon makes you clean his cock up even if your body is nearly boneless after sex. If he has to he will use your mouth to do it while you just tilt your head back for him. The only part of you that needs to work then is your tongue.
Mean boyfriend!Simon keeps his cock inside you while pressing one hand on your stomach and the other hand teasing your clit. He doesn't move his hips at all, he just enjoys the way your pussy walls ripple around him. Eventually you do get him to come too, but not before you've already had several orgasms like that.
2K notes · View notes
cordeliawhohung · 4 months
Note
You created a monster in me with underboss!Simon and now you must take responsibility.
Please feed my new addiction with relationship headcanons 😩😩😩. I love him and Shy!reader.
i've created so many monsters y'all gotta stop biting at my ankles or at least start paying rent or smth <3 also i'm still trying to work out a lot of the dynamics of the relationship between them so this is still a little bare boned but i hope you enjoy!
mafia!141 masterlist <3
warnings: mostly fluff :3 simon is a bit of a prick lol, fem!reader,
Tumblr media
just in case anyone missed it, this is how underboss!Simon and shy!Reader meet <3
it takes a brutally long time for the two of you to start dating. a brutally long time.
and it isn't for lack of trying on Simon's end. he manages to get your number somehow (i hear Soap is very tech savvy...) and asks you out the week after the dinner at John's house, only for you to decline.
which is fine. he can take rejection. but this is... different. you're too kind when you say no. you're not saying it because you think you're too good for him, you're saying it because of something else, and Simon can tell the difference but can't exactly tell what it is.
it drives him nuts for a long time. you were supposed to be just another number in his phone for a booty call. he's used to getting pretty much anything he wants, after all, but even then it shouldn't have bugged him as much as it did. maybe it was because he liked the way you looked at him. not with disgust. not with some lustful intention. you were... soft. kind, even.
as for you? you think it's crazy how this 6'4", ripped, and kind guy showed interest in you. you, someone too anxious for her own good, someone who said no because it was less scary than committing to something. and you hate yourself for rejecting him.
so in an effort to stay close to him, you text him pretty often. you send him pictures of things you see or run into during your day. something funny at work, a cool rock you found in someone's garden, the spider that decided to make its home in your shower. and sweetheart, you have no idea what you're doing to the poor man ):
this goes on for a long while. just simon being a stupid man, not wanting to push your boundaries after you already rejected him, and you being too anxious to fix things and ask him yourself.
eventually, by some miracle (that i might write more about later because like i said BARE BONES) the two of you get together. and it's... interesting. simon isn't really used to dating. like properly. he's used to buttering a girl up, going back to her place for a quick fuck, and then only seeing her whenever either of them are too bored and horny to function. but with you it's nothing like that at all. there's no sex on the first date, not even a damn kiss, and he finds himself craving you more than ever because of it. wanting to be around you all the time, wanting to hear about your day.
man is fucking obsessed.
he treats you like a princess. he only ever really spent his money on stupid shit but now he can spend it on you! you never ask for anything, but god forbid if you express that anything, be it clothes or otherwise, looks cute because he will buy it for you, no matter how awkward you are at receiving gifts.
also! because he's so big and somewhat brutish, no one fucks with you when you're in public together. annoying kiosk clerks trying to aggressively sell you something? one look from him and they're gone. someone messed up your order but you're too anxious to ask them to fix it? he's advocating for you.
because of him, you find yourself growing less afraid and anxious of things. he teaches you how to be brave, and you teach him how to be soft. there's nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for you <3
oh also btw he's in the mafia. he might have forgotten to mention that... hope that doesn't freak you out or anything. don't worry about the blood on his shirt or the bruises on his face or the cuts on his arms or... oh god you look like you're going to cry. it's nothing, sweetheart! promise! stop trying to take him to the hospital!
also, some sorta unrelated comments: i think shy!reader is def a hostess at a restaurant. i feel like simon would hang out at the restaurant too just to be around you. he'd also slip you a tip, even though you tell him you make hourly and don't depend on tips.
"consider it my way of saying thanks for sitting us at the table with the best view."
the view is you, btw.
Tumblr media
AHHH i'm sorry this was such a mess? i have so many jumbled thoughts but i'm glad i was able to get some of them out and i hope they were somewhat enjoyable al;kdjf i'll be working on a short drabble/oneshot for him over the weekend, so i'm hoping that'll make up for this <3
1K notes · View notes
reveluving · 5 months
Note
SHY WIFE AND PRICE....ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME!!!!!Imagine this Adonis of a man spoiling her from the first date and even her being shy, the 141(plus Kate) KNOW who's the boss( he ALWAYS have a photo and a story about Mrs.Price and it's just the cutest thing how his eyes light up that they also love her)
CUUUUUUTE AAAAAA!! GNAWING ON MY BARS RN!! And thank you for specifying the Adonis of a man bit! Can't forget about that!! ☝🏼😌💗
Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!
COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌
Come & check out my COD m.list!
In any case of our beloved shy!wife fics, especially with his line of work, just expect your husband to have a polaroid or five of you ready.
And John is no different.
You must be a special one if you managed to catch the eyes of the captain, and to clarify, you are!
John knew there was no going back to his mundane yet chaotic lifestyle the second he asked you out. It took everything in him not to chuckle at your look of disbelief, your lips parting just a tad bit. He didn’t want you to think he was making fun of you, you were genuinely adorable with your expressiveness. And though had told him you were open to anything, even specifying that you wouldn’t mind anything small and simple, he didn’t let you.
He took you out to dinner on your first date, nothing too fancy, though that couldn’t be said the same on the later dates, gifted you a small but beautiful bouquet and the rest was history. 
And amazingly, he gets even better at spoiling you after he puts a ring on your finger. As if he wasn't already good since your first date!
Kisses or cakes, hugs or huge bouquets, he'll always find a way to spoil you. Because you—your smiles, giggles and laughs, your time and your love for him means so much.
More than you can imagine.
A sweetheart, a gentleman. You couldn’t ask for a better man to fall for you, though, like him, you were mind-blown to even think a man, no, a hunk like him showed interest in you. Made you feel wanted, special—someone he wanted to be with with zero hesitation. 
He wouldn’t be able to forget your shy smile, how you’d mindlessly trail your fingers across the table or your lap out of embarrassment, how your fingers curled around his hand, despite averting your gaze from his cheeky smile many dates later.
And though the wedding was small, to him, it felt like a sweet fairytale.
To finally be able to call you Mrs Price.
Laswell had the privilege to meet you first before everyone else. She enjoys the sisterly moments you’d have, a breath of fresh air from the craziness, to say the least, that she has to witness in her lifetime. Always appreciates you checking in on her via messages or if she’s lucky, a quick call. And it becomes a tradition of hers to jokingly remind John to take care of you and not to drive you crazy.
And then, there were the boys.
Johnny was the one who asked about you, catching the man looking at one of the polaroids of you with nothing but love in his eyes. Longing to get it over with and come home to you. Johnny didn’t think he’d be willing to talk about you at all, let alone more than a few sentences, i.e. privacy reasons or he just prefers to be on his own. Take in the quiet moment before any hell breaks loose later on.
Understandable, so imagine not only his surprise but also the rest of the 141 when he talks about you. First, with pure endearment in his tone, then the story gets romantic, cheesier even, but all three of them listened to his stories like no other (read: a father telling his kids how he met their mother), even if they acted like they were just casually fixing their weapons or thinking to themselves.
C’mon, he knows them!
Like John, you treat the boys like your very own. If Johnny, Kyle or Simon wanted to be doted over—to be cared for, something they haven’t felt in a while even if some of them wouldn’t want to admit it, then you’d give them millions! Even something as little as a handwritten message or passing them a few words i.e. take care and good luck via John.
Visiting the Price’s house now feels like a family thing. Again, it’s cheesy, it’s corny, and maybe even childish to some, for a bunch of men to be looking forward to these visits like a child being away from their parents at a dorm during college, none of you cared. Not you. Not John. And most importantly, not his boys.
None of them could have imagined your words to stick in their minds in dire times. A little motivation to return safely. Back to the base, for John, and back the Price’s home, for you.
“Johnny, I’m out of a few things in the kitchen. Could you drop by the store and get these for me, please?” “Can do!”
“Simon, have you seen John’s car keys? I can’t find them anywhere.” “I can help look for it w’you.”
“Kyle, I told you I can handle the fireplace.” “S’not that hard. Don’t worry!”
Home.
Bonus: A lil’ story I’m still working on with the COD men + dogs includes John with an American Akita. Similar to Phillip and Kai, John’s gigantic pupper tends to prefer listening to you to him.
His intolerance for certain people or animals drops in an instant the second he sees you, turning into a baby (your baby, might John add) but he also knows when duty calls. Ears tilting back and growling at a stranger who doesn’t know, or worse; ignores that you're taken.
And in John’s words: good boy.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
1K notes · View notes
tojisun · 6 months
Note
sun!! i hope you’re doing well sweetheart <3
i’m on my period and feeling miserable :( i’m just imagining biker!simon and his big warm hands massaging my lower back and being my personal heating pad
i feel like he’d be so doting and sweet…and i just know his cuddles are IMMACULATE
my goodness my beloved im sorry for how late my reply to this is!! i hope ur feeling a whole lot better today :(( and that u were able to rest well hhhhh
no ur right!!! big man like simon gives out good hugs!! just, warm and comforting over all <33 // biker!simon mlist
Tumblr media
simon leaves as soon as he can, your message still bright in his mind – im dying lol.
“Not on my watch,” is what simon replied, trying to be playful if only to distract you from your pain.
he says his goodbyes to his friends, waves at john who tells him he’ll close up the shop and that simon doesn’t have to worry about it, before walking towards the parking lot. he snags his helmet, snaps it on, and hefts himself on top of his bike.
he traces the initials engraved on his gloves before bringing up his hand to the mouth of his helmet and presses it in lieu of a kiss. then he’s off, the purr of his engine smooth as he whips against the wind.
simon’s left you on his bed today, bundled up in his sweater and underneath the blankets. you’ve been teary-eyed as you bid him goodbye, trying to assure him that your period’s not kicking your ass.
“just go, si,” you said, huffing when simon continued to stand by the edge of the bed, hesitating.
“i don’t wanna leave you when y’r like this, sweetheart,” he replied, bending down just enough to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye.
“you can’t just skip work, y’know?”
“if it’s for you, i can.”
it wasn’t a lie – you two knew this – but you insisted, giggling, and told him to just remember to bring snacks when he returns home. he kissed you goodbye and drove off.
simon didn’t forget his promise, of course. his bag’s full of chocolates and cookies and a pack of electrolyte drinks. he knew the medicine cabinet was stocked but simon got extra pain medications – for cramping and nausea – in case you needed more.
johnny had seen simon’s grocery bag and asked that simon tell you that johnny’s wishing you to get well soon. then, kyle and john overheard and they gave simon the extra ladyfingers stored in the break room.
simon parks his bike and almost stumbles on his feet when he lurched out of his bike. he speeds through the stairs, thundering footsteps echoing, before tearing through the fire escape door.
he fumbles for his keys, steps into his apartment, and has just enough coherence to remember to toe his shoes off, place his helmet on the counter, snag his gloves off, and wash his hands. then, simon’s back in his room. back where you are.
you’re still buried underneath his quilt, curled into yourself. simon would have cooed at how little space you are taking up on his bed but he hears you whine, exhausted face peeking out of the quilt, before weary eyes meet his own.
“i’m home, sweetheart,” he breathes out, watching as your face breaks out into a smile.
“hey there, baby,” you reply, shuffling until he sees you lift a corner of the sheets for him to crawl in.
simon doesn’t even care that he’s still in his work clothes, not when your pretty eyes are pleading him to slip in and finally cuddle with you. so he drops his bag and takes his jacket off, before slipping underneath the quilt and sliding beside you.
you’re blinking up at him as he settles in, your warm palms reaching up to caress his cool face. he hears the faint hum that rumbles from your throat and simon huffs a fond laugh at the small smile tickling your lips.
“how do you want me, love?” he asks, his own hands claiming their rightful place by your waist. he rubs at your sides the way he knows you want – smooth glides with just enough pressure, grounding you into him.
“spoonin’,” you whisper, sniffing, before turning away from him with your mind made up.
simon laughs, pressing the quiet puffs of it on the back of your head as you shimmy towards him, pressing your back to his chest, before falling putty with a quiet sigh. he loops his arm around your waist, the heavy weight of his palm falling just underneath your belly.
“lift y’r head up a bit,” simon murmurs, humming when he slots his other arm under your head for you to use as a pillow. “good girl,” he murmurs as you fall back into him.
simon fixes the sheets as you shuffle closer again, nuzzling your face onto his arm with a pleased grumble, and he barks a laugh at your sudden sneeze.
“shit, sorry,” you croak out, hiding your face behind your palms.
simon laughs. “don’t be, sweetheart.” he kisses the back of your head again. “feelin’ better?”
“a bit,” you reply, and simon trembles when he feels your fingers glide along his arm. “now that you’re here.”
jesus. you sure know how to make him ache with the weight of his love, huh sweetheart?
Tumblr media
IT GOT TOO LONG IM SORRY!! but yea :(( i hope u are feeling better luv <333
1K notes · View notes
Text
Reader is angry at them - 141 + Los Vaqueros
Requested by Anon
mentions of sex, no actual smut, reader is gender neutral.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
His reaction would probably depend on multiple factors: why you were angry in the first place, if he's angry at you too, and how close he is to you in the first place.
If you weren't close, he probably wouldn't give a shit - if you were in the military he would probably pull rank, using his status to put you in your place should your anger towards him impair your abilities on a mission.
If you two were close, he'd probably either give you the silent treatment or would be upfront, asking you "Right, what's the fucking problem?"
If he's angry at you too, mans is stubborn as a bull.
He'd probably remove himself from your presence entirely if he gets to the point he feels physically angry - with all his past trauma, he doesn't want to risk hurting you in a fit of anger.
You'd probably have to talk to him first unless he was genuinely in the wrong, but even then he'd only truly apologise if you were genuinely hurt by what he'd said or done.
Well, apologise is a strong word in this context - you'd probably get a gruff "sorry" since he's a man of few words and doesn't like making himself vulnerable.
The make-up sex would be 10/10 - he can't verbalise what he wants to say, so he'd rather show you.
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
Less stubborn than Ghost but not by much.
If you're angry at him, he wants you to just tell him outright so you can talk it out.
If you don't tell him, then it's the silent treatment.
If he's aware that he's done something to upset you, then he is in fact quick to apologise - flowers, chocolates, the whole nine yards.
Probably would be the type to try and make you laugh when you're angry - and dammit it works nearly every time.
He's generally a happy-go-lucky guy so if he's angry at you, it would probably be over something important - like if you were on a mission together and you risked your life either to save his or another teammate's.
In which case, he wouldn't hide his feelings at all - he wears his heart on his sleeve, and tells you just how much you mean to him and how the thought of loosing you makes him feel physically sick to his stomach.
Captain John Price
Hm, I think his reactions would be interesting.
He's older and more mature, has seen some shit in his life that were more than a bit traumatising to say the least.
He's also of high ranking within the military, and is more than used to dealing with the anger of others and dishing out his own share.
Similarly to Ghost, it would all depend on how close you two were to begin with.
If you're not close and you're a lower rank than him, be prepared for months of bathroom duty, intensive training and god knows what other punishments he has up his sleeve - not in the fun way either.
If you are close, he'd probably just ask you to tell him what's bothering you - if he can fix it, consider it done. If it's something bigger, then you can talk about it, he's relatively reasonable when it comes to most things.
If he's angry at you too - he doesn't do the silent treatment and doesn't do angry outbursts either.
He's calm - so calm, it's almost unnerving.
He can voice his anger with a calm tone - it feels as if you're dancing on the edge of a knife.
If you were giving him the silent treatment, he'd leave you to it - if it went on for a long period of time, then he'd confront you because he's "too old for this shit."
The best way for you both to get your frustrations out? Sex. After not being able to talk to you for what felt like weeks, he secretly craves the intimacy.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
See I can't see him getting angry over anything minor - he's too laidback for that.
Like with Soap, if you risked your life for his on a mission, oh he would be pissed.
But he probably wouldn't tell you outright - you'd have probably gotten some choice words from Price about being reckless; "Don't let me catch you trying something like that again, you fucking muppet!"
He'd go dead silent - not to be confused with the silent treatment though, the anger is there and it isn't dormant, just bubbling up.
Would probably start his rant once you asked him if he was okay.
No, he wasn't.
He'd be pacing in his room, going on and on about how stupid it was for you to practically try and get yourself killed to save him, how the team needs you, how much he loves and cares about you, and how guilty he would feel if you did in fact die trying to save his life.
I reckon he'd start to cry out of anger, at which point you'd hug him and let him get it all out of his system.
He's not a big crier, but this wasn't just a run of the mill thing.
Please don't pull anything like that again.
Alejandro Vargas
Silent treatment? Never heard of it.
He's a passionate man through and through, so if he's angry at you then he's going to tell you. And probably loudly.
Always feels guilty if he ends up yelling at you during an argument and apologises soon after.
He too wears his heart on his sleeve - well he would but as he tells you all the time, you have his heart.
If he had it his way, he would protect you from all harm that the world could throw your way; and he sure tries to.
When you're angry at him, he'd probably try to woo you out of it - depending on what you're angry about this usually works, he can be very smooth.
Also a big fan of make-up sex - angry sex lets him release his pent up frustrations in a healthier way, and it lets him show how much he loves you.
If you tell him why you're angry at him, he'd listen; if it was over something relatively small like him leaving things lying around your apartment or him eating your leftovers, then he'd make mental notes not to do it again; if it was over something bigger, like how dangerous his job is and how he risks his life on the regular, he probably wouldn't respond well to it.
It's his job and his comrades are family to him - he doesn't plan on giving it up anytime soon, so that would be a big talk you guys would have to have.
Overall, he's a stubborn guy but he has your best interests at heart.
Rudy Parra
On the outside, he's a quiet guy.
But he's also a Sergeant Major - so it's not as if getting angry isn't in his toolkit.
If you're angry at him, he'd encourage you to just tell him, let it out - shout at him, cry, whatever you need to do, just don't go silent on him.
He's a grown man, he can take it.
When he's angry though, he's a bit of a hypocrite - he wouldn't yell at you or voice his frustrations for a while, but wouldn't go silent either.
He'd just give you this grumpy look >:(
You'd eventually be able to talk it out but he's thought through everything he wants to say about a million times in his head first.
I think make-up sex would be probably the last thing he'd be thinking of in the moment, he'd much rather just have some intimacy between you two - whether that be watching a movie together, cuddling, going out somewhere, just some time to yourselves.
If he genuinely was at fault, he'd dote on you - even more than he usually does.
He'd run you a bath, give you a massage, cook you a meal, you name it.
He doesn't like it when you're both angry at each other and aren't talking so when you're able to talk it out and make amends, he shows how his heart beats for you.
4K notes · View notes
yawnderu · 7 months
Text
You make it hard to be a ghost — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Mutual pining, yearning, fluff, conflicted emotions.♡
Tumblr media
"That's enough out of you." Ghost barked as he entered your quarters, slamming a crumpled piece of paper onto your desk. You write poetry for him, sneaking it into pieces of his gear and clothes where you know he'll find them. He reads them every single time, the strings of his heart being pulled whenever he reads them. He'd never let you know he keeps them, never let you know just how much your handwritten thoughts truly affect him, but you already know.
"What else am I supposed to do with my love for you, Ghost?" You asked teasingly, though the fear of keeping being rejected was always there, gnawing on your heart every single time he denied your affections.
"I don't need your love." He spat out, British accent making his rejection somewhat harder. How do I let you know you're the sun that casts away my shadows? I can't. His gaze flickers back and forth as you stay quiet, a mixture of guilt and anxiety playing on his expressive eyes though he tried to keep a stern mask in place. "I don't have time for this." You make me feel something.
"You say that, but I know you enjoy what I write even if you don't believe my words." You stand up from your seat, slowly approaching Ghost as your hand gently holds his wrist, examining his tattoo sleeve. His senses are overwhelmed as you touch him, by the closeness of your body, the warmth of your hands, your gentle touch. He wants this for himself, but he can't accept it, yet he doesn't push you away. "Whose dog tags are these?" You inquire, looking at his tattoo with a curious gaze.
"An old friend." He replies shortly, breath hitching slightly. Those dog tags belong to Simon Riley. The Simon Riley who died the same day Ghost was born, the same Simon Riley who gave his murdered family a funeral pyre and was left as just a Ghost. You simply hum, knowing better than to press for more details.
"Stray." His voice finally cuts the silence, his tone more gentle than what you usually hear from him, despite the turmoil in his head. "I've never loved anyone." Other than my mum and brother. It pains him to say those words, but you deserve to know.
"I know." He looked at you with a gaze full of sadness, and you responded with a gaze full of love. Ghost pulls you closer, allowing himself to be vulnerable in this way for once in his life, hand resting warmly against your cheek as he leans closer, breathing in your hair and the scent of your skin. His nightmares and past haunt him, his trauma keeps him up at night, but you keep his soul alive.
"I truly love you, Simon." Your arms gently wrap around his neck and he grits his teeth. Simon. Simon had been dead for years, yet you somehow always found a way to bring him back to life. To make his defenses come crumbling down as if he didn't spend years carefully building them. You can feel the tension leaving his body, muscles relaxing and shoulders dropping. You're aware this is a big deal for Ghost, he never lets anyone get this close. You hear his heart beating wildly, his breath on your neck as his arms wrap around your waist hesitantly, bringing you closer and closer each passing second.
"I love you too." He whispered, swallowing the knot in his throat. It's the first time he's actually been able to say it. "I love you too." He repeats, just in case you missed it the first time.
2K notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 4 months
Text
Light On - single mom/neighbor fic - reader POV - cw: grief Simon Riley/female reader
Tumblr media
"Breathe, honey. Try to take a deep breath for me."
Simon is frantic, cradling your face in his hands, pulling away your own to try to look in your eyes, his own wide with horror, worry.
This isn't fair. This isn't right. This is confusing.
"I- I'm sorry." You sob, because it's the only thing you can say, the only thing he can think of, and he shakes his head like he disagrees with you.
"No, no. Sorry for what?" You can't make it make sense, to him, in your own head, and when you try to talk, nothing comes out but a broken cry. "Shhh. You're alright. Just breathe." He tries to soothe you, and it only makes you cry harder, sob welling in your chest. "Are you hurt?"
"No!" you protest. "No, you didn't... I'm not... I-"
"Okay, okay. Hey, look at me sweetheart. I'm right here, I've got you." He coos, still holding you, wiping your tears, keeping you close. "You're okay." You bury your face in his chest, letting him wrap you up, cuddle you close, all while your mind spins and spirals, heart aching like it's been broken all over again. This wasn't supposed to happen. You're not supposed to feel this way. You're supposed to be happy. Aren't you happy?
"I'm sorry." You whisper when you find your voice, and he hums a raspy rebuttal. "No, I... you don't deserve this, to be saddled with this, a-" A widow, and a baby. An emotional basket case. A burden.
"Stop." He looks down at you with sincerity, severe certainty in his eyes, and you gulp at the intensity, shuddering when his lips graze your skin gently. "I don't deserve you, sweetheart. I know that for sure, but not in the way you're thinking right now. I'm not being saddled with anything."
"You don't understand." You shake your head.
"Then tell me." He encourages. "Tell me. I'll listen." He caresses your cheek, touch gentle and caring, devoted, and you close your eyes.
"Okay."
Simon makes you a cup of tea. When he returns to press it into your hands, you're sitting up in bed, donning one of the t shirts you found on the floor.
"Is that my shirt?" He asks, cocking his head, and you nod bashfully, lip tucked between your teeth. "Looks good on you." You reach for the mug with shaking hands, trying to take a deep breath and collect your thoughts. "Take your time." He murmurs. "I'm here. We've got all night." He's not going to want you anymore, once he realizes. Once you tell him how you feel, what you're thinking. You shake the thoughts free, trying to banish them. He said you could tell him. You trust him. You can do this. Just be honest.
"Emmaline's dad died the week we found out we were pregnant." You whisper, unable to look at him. "It was a housing fire, big building. Like this one." You take a sip, watching the way his fingers sit lax in the bed, close enough to touch you, but giving you space. "There was a power surge, or something. Half the city lost electricity and he got called in. It wasn't unusual, he was a Lieutenant, and they're responsible for a crew, a truck. I thought... I thought I'd just go to bed, wake up in the morning, and he'd be there next to me. Like always, on big calls."
"But he wasn't."
"He wasn't. Instead, his Engineer, and his Captain, were at my door with his helmet in their hands." You bite down on your tongue, fruitlessly stalling the tears and the breakdown that's fighting it's way up your throat. "I loved him so much." As soon as you say it, your voice breaks, vision going blurry, and Simon reaches for you, holding your free hand, stroking a thumb across your knuckles. "I haven't been... I haven't been with anyone, since then."
"Oh, sweetheart." You set the tea down on the table next to the bed, pulling air in through your nose as much as you can, trying to regulate your heart rate, your breathing.
"I thought I knew what love was." You whisper, peeking up at him, soft brown eyes watching you patiently. "But this... feels different. It feels like... more. And that... that makes me feel like I'm betraying him. Like I'm dishonoring the love we shared. I feel guilty, and awful, like I'm doing something wrong." You close your eyes, losing your control, your battle, lower lip trembling with a sob. It tumbles out of you, hoarse and raw, everything falling away as you cry. There's a knife, in your chest, in your heart, twisting and sawing and stabbing, and it hurts, it hurts so badly, the sharp ache only soothed when Simon pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, hand smoothing up and down your spine.
"Sh-shhh." He's settled you into his lap completely now, legs and hips and entire body, wrapped up tight, safe and secure. A small amount of tension sags away from your frame, relieved that he's not running, white hot guilt and grief and still burning in the pit of your stomach. "You're not doing anything, anything, wrong, sweetheart." He thumbs at a tear on your cheek. "It's natural to feel grief like this, it's normal. But you're not betraying him, or your marriage. He'll always be a part of you, and Emmaline." He's rocking you, murmuring softly above your ear, and you relax more, letting him calm you, put you back together piece by piece, your tears starting to slow, your chest rising and falling at a more regular pace. "I want to tell you something." He says after a while, once it's been quiet for a few minutes. You nod, trying to encourage him. "My mum is gone." You push off from him, looking up into his eyes. They're sad, and you see grief in them, despair, but also a deep depth of love. "She taught me how to cook, when I was a young lad. Always told me it would come in handy, when I fell in love." He takes a deep breath, burying his face in your neck for a second before coming back up for air. "She never got to see that, me with someone else. In love. And for years, I thought I disappointed her, let her down, even in death."
"Simon." You whisper, heart breaking apart all over again for the pain that's embedded across his face, the torment that bleeds from his expression.
"But, ever since I met you- I've thought, maybe she's lookin' out for me. That she's somewhere, out there, still bein' my mum. Sending me angels." He blinks, lashes wet, the tear that drips down your face mirroring his own. "Sending you, and Emma. And maybe your husband, is doing the same." You close your eyes, remembering the first time you ever saw Simon, on the roof, handsome in the morning light, even though he seemed so exhausted. You remember the way he held Emmaline, the first time he gave her a bottle, your little baby so at home in his giant arms, safe and cuddled against his chest like she just fit there. When he came to your rescue in the park, scary enough to make every scatter but all you felt was safety. The first time he kissed you, on his patio in the snow. And tonight, when he promised to give you everything, when he held you, made love to you, promised to take care of you. Your heart races in your chest, fingers clutching onto him, holding as tight as you can.
"Am I your angel, Simon Riley?" You wondered aloud with wide eyes, leaning into him, nose to nose. He kisses you, face wet with tears, voice hoarse when he answers.
"You're mine, as I'm yours, sweetheart."
3K notes · View notes
oceantornadoo · 5 months
Text
there was a quiet knock on your door, stirring you from your sleep. you took off your eye mask and groaned, glancing at the clock that read 1:30am. “go away soap, i’m not helping you with another prank.” you muttered, wanting to get back to your precious sleep. “it’s not soap.” a gruff voice replied as you shot out of your bed with shock and confusion. what was ghost doing at your door? he was your lieutenant, and although you considered him a friend, he had never asked you for a late night hang out.
you approached the door cautiously, opening it to the hulking mass of ghost, backlit by the base hallway lights. it took a second for your eyes to adjust, which is why when they did, you were shocked to see he wasn’t wearing his mask. your eyes immediately dropped to your toes, giving him privacy. “ghost? can i help you?”
simon took in your disheveled hair and eye mask on top of your face. he looked back at your bed, curious to see if you had company (just in case) but thankfully found it empty. you had non-standard issue silk pillowcases and what suspiciously looked like an old stuffed animal, but he wasn’t going to judge, not when he needed you so desperately. his hand came under your chin, tilting it upwards to his face, giving you silent permission to look. “call me simon. can i come in?” you opened the door for him and he stepped into your room, his size dwarfing the already small space. when you closed the door he immediately sank into your office chair with his head in his hands, all the faux confidence he had at the doorway disappearing. “gh-, simon? are you okay?” you sat facing him on your bed, a little confused. you knew he had his own struggles, but he never talked about them. his body language looked like he was almost in pain, and you wanted to do anything to relieve it.
“can i sleep with you?” he said in his usual blunt tone, still looking at the floor. “umm, no offense but this is not usually how i’m propositioned.” you were extremely confused by the entire interaction. he wanted to sleep with you? “no not like that, not that i wouldn’t. i meant sleep in your bed with you. i can’t-.” he paused, sounding more vulnerable in five seconds than he had ever sounded in your two years of knowing him. “i can’t sleep alone right now.”
oh. understanding flooded your system, knowing all too well about nightmares that came after dark. you had always been comfortable with him, and weren’t scared he’d take advantage (though you did need to reevaluate the “not that i wouldn’t” part of his speech on a different day). “you’re welcome to, simon. here.” you went back to where you had been sleeping, close to the wall, and patted the space next to you. unfortunately your bed was not the biggest, as simon discovered, trying to get as comfortable as possible without touching you.
he was ramrod straight, and you knew he wouldn’t get any sleep if he was concerned about being honorable. “you can get closer if you need to, i don’t bite.” you said, diffusing the tension. swiftly he turned on his side and pulled you into him, one hand splayed on your stomach while the other was under your pillow. “this okay?” he asked gruffly and you nodded, tangling your feet with his after realizing he couldn’t see your face in the pitch black room. simon inhaled your scent, instantly calmed, and closed his eyes, praying the nightmares would stay away.
the next morning, you slowly pulled up your eye mask, taking in the domestic scene in front of you. you had moved during the night, and now simon was flat on his back with your leg hooked over him and your hand on his broad chest. his hand grasped your thigh, and when you tried to move away, it gripped tighter, making you stay in place. you shifted and he made a sound, making you realize what had been poking into you was not your stuffed animal and was indeed his morning wood.
simon was awake, feeling refreshed after the best sleep of his life. he felt you moving and feigned sleep, knowing you wouldn’t want to wake him up. he wanted to see what you would do, hoping you felt the same as he did. he slightly moved his thigh, which happened to be against your core, and you let out a soft moan. his eyes snapped open but he reeled in his heart rate, not wanting to give anything away. he moved it again, and you moaned again, pressing down on his chest with the delicious feeling of restraint.
simon kept moving his thigh in his sleep, and you kept feeling so guilty for how good it felt. feeling his massive boner had woken you up, but the constant pressure against your core was making you even more horny. it had been so long since someone else had touched you there, and you hadn’t realized how much you wanted it to be simon until now. he was so much bigger than you, and so unreadable at times, but to make himself vulnerable to you had meant a lot. and now here you were, quietly grinding on his thigh, achy and wanting, trying not to give anything away. your nipples were peaked under your sleep shirt, and the slight friction of simon’s arm and chest against them was ramping up the pressure in your core. you felt sweaty and out of control, needing to come but not sure if you could do it alone. in a moment of clarity, you tried to pull away but simon’s hand shot out and pressed your thigh to his chest.
“you weren’t done, love. don’t you want to come?” he said in a deep morning voice, sounding gruffer than usual. that sound pushed you over the edge and you started grinding in earnest, his hands helping you push yourself against him when your legs got too tired. “almost- simon. i’m gonna -“ you whined, desperate to find release in this sacred bubble the two of you made. your orgasm was right there, needing just a little something to set it off. simon’s other hand reached out and tweaked your sensitive nipples, sending you over the edge. you collapsed into him, not believing you just got off on your friend. not believing he helped. you were about to apologize, plead if you needed to, when his dark voice rang out again.
“want another one?”
973 notes · View notes
bigassmoonchild · 8 months
Text
Maple Syrup
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: All you needed was to contain the aphrodisiac, make an antidote just in case, and go home. But working with the 141 was never that simple, and now you and Ghost would find out how it worked. Up close and personal.
Content Tags: Vague kidnapping near the beginning, Sex Pollen, Smut, PiV Sex, Fingering, Fuck or Die, Mild Dubious Consent (consent is gained after pollen gets inhaled), No use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alpha! Ghost
A/N: Honest to god, I've been trying to write a story based on this thought alone. I can't even get it started but maybe this will get me. There also needs to be more Omegaverse written for COD, there can be some interesting stuff from it. Lmk if you want more of this, i'm exhausted <3 (p.s. I've changed the summary like, 10 times and idk how to feel about it)
Next, Headcannons, Masterlist
Tumblr media
"Gaz, are we clear to enter?" Ghost asked into the comms. Gaz had gone into the building first, alongside Soap, to clear out the path you and Ghost would take. It was almost a straight shot, it felt too easy to get to the weapon you were there for. Maple Syrup, they had called it, even though it was an airborne weapon. You could hear a few shouts of a language, it sounded Russian but you weren't entirely sure, but you didn't have long to dwell on it as they stopped with a few gunshots.
Another few grunts came through before Gaz finally responded. "We're all clear in here, we still need to sweep a few rooms closer to Docs target, but you should be good to enter," he answered. Ghost nodded at you and led the way in, gun resting on his shoulder as he looked every which way. You knew it was a safety precaution, but you trusted Gaz.
You always trusted easily, it was in your nature. You were an Omega, and having trust in the people meant to protect you felt natural. You trusted your pack, even if you hadn't been a part of it for too long.
Maybe you shouldn't trust as easily.
Ghost shoved you into the wall next to you and started firing, bullets whistling past your ears as you ducked low. It reeked of sex, of Alphas and Omegas in heat or rut. Even through the military grade suppressant you could smell it, and it hurt. Ghost ducked around the corner, more gunshots echoing before a grunt came from him, and you heard the sound of a body dropping.
You didn't think before rounding that corner, seeing Ghost on the ground unmoving shook you. You ran your hands over him to feel for blood, but you couldn't see or feel anything. By the time you got to his shoulders, you found a needle trapped between his vest and arm, right in the meaty part of his inner-most shoulder. You plucked it off of him without thinking, tossing it to the side before pressing to feel for anything left inside.
You hadn't noticed the people advancing behind you, had ignored the calling from the comms or footsteps coming from the same direction Gaz and Soap were supposed to be in, but you felt the prick of the needle on your back. With a shout, you fell forwards, catching yourself from falling face first into the ground. You attempted to crawl forwards, get away from the men approaching from the back, but the medication they pumped into you caught up quicker than you could move.
It was with a groan that you sat up, swallowing thickly at the sickly sweet taste in your mouth. You tried wiping your face, but your hands moved slower than they felt, missing twice before wiping the area around your mouth. Pulling your hand back, a thin, dark red coating came back on them. You blinked hard, trying to remember what you had come here for.
The Maple Syrup mist. You couldn't remember much else about it, your mind moving at about the same speed as the namesake for the pollen-like substance. It was airborne. You knew that. There was something especially dangerous about it that a lot of the countries who knew about it wanted it gone. You were hired to make sure that no matter what happened, there was an anti-dote for it.
Something like that.
You blinked back into it when the door to wherever you were creaked open. You glanced up slowly, blinking at the men who entered and grabbed you, speaking loudly at you. What were they talking about? It wasn't Russian, you hadn't been in Russia or near any of their allies when you'd been grabbed.
You wouldn't understand it, your mind was moving at half the speed they were dragging you at. A few twists and turns, some scattered conversation floating around, and being dropped twice was what it took for you to be tossed into a similar room as your first. You laid face first on the ground, the cold helping to clear your head slightly.
Small cramps started in your back, twinging you every few seconds. A voice came over a loudspeaker, whatever they were saying it was something they were very pleased with. You turned, slowly, onto your back before crawling backwards to lean onto the wall behind you.
Maple Syrup. What the hell about it was so important they sent the 141 after it? Something something, military grade suppressants. The suppressants. Maple Syrup could break through military grade suppressants. You groaned, the cramps moving through your back and into your stomach. You could feel the heat, all-encompassing, starting to wash over you.
A loud, long creak echoed from the area to your left, and your head dropped to your shoulder as you turned it to look at the wall. A scent came wafting from the slowly opening crack in the wall, growing headier as the walls fully opened up. It was musky, with leather and tobacco, hints of the gunpowder you often smelled back on base. It made your mouth water.
The groan from the corner directly next to you startled you back into the present. As your eyes adjusted to the new lighting between the two rooms, a dark shape became clearer in the corner. A skull mask was lying tossed a few meters from it, and as your vision cleared up more, you could tell it was Ghost.
His head hardly moved as his eyes found yours, staring through you from beneath the balaclava.
"What's the verdict, Doc?" He grumbled, deep in his throat.
"Dosed with Maple Syrup," you whispered back, and his head fell back down between his legs.
A short, harsh sound came from him, it had to be a laugh, "then what's gonna happen to us?"
"When was your last natural rut?" You looked at him, licking your dried lips. You could see his head move sharply from your peripheral, his eyes flittering up and down. He shook his head, another dry laugh coming from him.
"It's that bad?" You nodded. "Probably since I took my last, longer leave. I think it was four or five years ago, but I don't remember," you blinked slowly. The levels of androstenone in him would be high, especially without a rut to keep him leveled, and the Maple Syrup would only force him to produce more. Too much, and he'd die of something. Whether it would be heat stroke, or dehydration you had no idea.
"If you don't pop a knot or two, you'll die. Heat stroke, maybe dehydration, but you'll die. I don't know the exact amount of androstenone inside of you, but if it gets too high you could be forced into a feral rut," you glanced over at him, his eyes scrunched shut, a low groan coming from his throat. He glanced back up to you, his eyes softened and fear started to lace his scent.
Ghost shook his head. "If I go feral, I'll kill you. I can't, Doc, I don't wanna kill you," his voice grew more strained as his sentence wore on.
"I'll be fine," you gave him a soft smile. "I'm going to go into heat, and if I don't get a knot, I'll die. I don't know if the weapon shit is able to counteract the birth control part of the suppressants, but I don't feel good. I need you to fuck me, Ghost," you whispered the last part. He shook his head. "You have my permission, so it's up to you to act," you swallowed again, eyes shutting as sweat beaded down your neck.
It was getting hot. Too hot, and you could feel your slick pooling and soaking through your pants. You could smell it, and you knew he could smell it. You could hear the panting breaths he took, the grunts he let out. A long, low growl came from him and his heavy steps inched closer to you.
Ghost grabbed you by the back of your neck, shoving you forward into the ground and scenting your throat deeply. He tore at the neck of your shirt, ripping it to let him get more of your scent. He licked a long line, sucking into the base of your neck softly as his teeth grazed along it.
He stuffed his fingers under your pants and panties, leaving you whining as two of his fingers brushed past your clit and buried into you. Even feral, the Alpha was trying to take care of you. They curled and pressed against you, leaving you writhing under him as you whined for more.
Pleasure blossomed in your abdomen, the heel of his hand grazing against your clit with each pump his fingers made, leaving you throbbing around his fingers. Ghost was able to get one more finger in you, nosing up your neck before sucking a dark hickey into your neck, teeth grazing along your neck and nipping you here and there, soothing it with a lick.
He tugged his fingers out of you, dragging your pants and panties down before shoving his down as well. He rutted his cock against your folds, soaking himself in your slick before sliding inside of you. A long, loud moan tore out of your throat as he kept sliding further and further into you, bottoming out with a growl from him.
Writhing against him with your mouth hanging open, he dragged himself out of you before rutting back in. Your nails scratched against the floor beneath you, you could feel your heartbeat in your clit and Ghost against your back.
Licking and sucking at your scent gland, Ghost dragged his face against it and growling. You could feel him throb inside of you, heat flooding you with his cum. A long whine came from your throat, hips pushing back and out against him as his fingers found your clit, rubbing in soft but quick strokes. Heat shredded through your abdomen, sliding through the rest of your body as your orgasm tore through your body.
You could feel your clit pulse with each heartbeat, his fingers not waning from stroking it, shocks flowing through you with each stroke. You thought you could feel tears pouring down your face, mouth wide open as you groaned. Ghost pulled out, letting you drop to the ground on your stomach before he flipped you over, pulling your legs to his shoulders and rocking his cock back inside of you.
Dropping your head back, your mouth still gaped open as he filled you once more. You could feel his knot catching onto you each time he thrust, leaving you whining. Ghost dropped back down, mouthing at your scent gland once more, leaving his open for your own mouth.
Pushing his balaclava away from his gland, you took licks of his for yourself. He tasted good, so good, his scent flooding into your mouth, you had to pull back just enough so that you could breathe. He grunted with each thrust, his abdomen brushing against your clit with every other thrust, your legs pushed into your chest.
Each thrust left you whining for more, faster, harder even if he couldn't hear or understand you through the feral rut. You felt tears pooling in your eyes again, dripping down your face as you gasped with each thrust, cunt throbbing around him as his knot caught more and more with every thrust until he couldn't pull out anymore. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt a sharp, stinging pain radiate from your neck before it heated into what almost felt like agonizing pleasure.
It burned white hot and you clawed at his arms, hips bucking against his, which were just barely thrusting against you, trying to pump you full and pump deep.
When he finally released your neck, he let out a long groan as his own orgasm seemed to finally wash over him. Ghost let his head drop to your shoulder, his hips trying to thrust harder and you couldn't stop yourself from biting down on his own gland in turn.
It was hard to see the way his mouth dropped open under the balaclava and his eyes roll back, but from what you could see it left you moaning against his neck.
It took you a few minutes to come back to when you released his neck. All you could taste those few minutes was Ghost, nothing more. You had to gasp for actual oxygen as his taste nearly embedded itself in your mouth.
From the moment you released his neck, to the moment you became more aware of what was happening, he had adjusted you to sitting in his lap with his back against the wall. You could hear him talking, but your mind was gone. There wasn't pain, but you weren't entirely comfortable. Your neck was sore, and your cunt was still throbbing around him.
He nuzzled your neck, lapping at your now marked gland.
Ghost wasn't entirely sure what would happen, neither of you would be able to hide the marks and even so, he would have to report this. He figured it wouldn't matter, for now, he could wait to figure everything out until you got medevacked and taken care of. Price would know what to do, he always did.
Next
2K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 1 year
Text
Pulling on Simon's Dog Tags
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, teasing, size difference, gentle kissing, banter, Reader being picked up
A/N: Thought of this and... god I want to do it so bad.
Tumblr media
He finds it adorable when you grab him by the military dog tags and pull him down to your level
You wouldn't be able to pull him down if he didn't crouch down and you both know that much
Which is why its even more endearing when he does so, eye level with you and smirking at you, "You need something baby?" He would ask, smug aura radiating of him
If you're laying on top of him, or under him in certain cases, you can also pull on his tags but sometimes he will resist just to get you to get even closer to him
Kisses you every time you pull him close like that
Since you figured that out it became one of your preferred methods of silently asking for a kiss
You don't even have to pull that hard, honestly just hooking your finger around the necklace chain and tugging just a little is enough to get him to drop down and kiss you
A little back and forth is also welcome, where you pull him down and instead he sweeps you of your feet and carries you while you still try to tug him closer, "Payback. You didn't think you're the only one who has moves like this did you?"
Pretty responsive to you actually, weather he resist or not, he enjoys giving you a little bit of power over him once in a while
Because of this you also developed a habit of pulling him by the tie if he's wearing it
8K notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 5 months
Text
Part 3 of charmed slasher Simon
(Part 2 here)
Tumblr media
Your apartment is so cozy. Full of warm, soft things and cute little internet bobbles. It matches you.
Simon’s been watering your plants for you. Busy little bee that you are, he’s shocked they’ve survive this long without him. Same could be said for you.
How some other monster hasn’t lured you in and snapped their jaws closed around your throat is mystery. Good luck, maybe. Or there is a higher power out there after all, and it’s solely devoted to keeping you bouncing along, too friendly for your own good.
Even the death of all your friends hasn’t stripped that gracious way from you. All the cops on the case like you - so forthcoming and cooperative. The more chivalrous of them endeared by the brave face you put on.
Simon wants to carve their faces off when they smile at you.
His consolation is that you’re never more than courteous. You come back to your little flat and collapse on the couch - sometimes sleep there ‘til morning. He’s started pulling blankets over you before it gets too cold.
Your bed is too big for you. All that extra space taunts him, a perfect spot for him to shore up against your back. He could curl his arm around your waist, tuck you into his chest. Slide your panties down your plush thighs…
Too soon for that though. You still stir a bit when he brushes his fingers over your cheek. Have started leaning into it in your sleep, desperate for a kind touch when the world is suddenly so scary.
His favorite nights are the nightmares though. When you wake up gasping and shaking, wiping at watery eyes. When you gasp and shudder like that, it’s easy to imagine you making those noises for a different reason.
It’s those times that all the little inconsistencies start to nag at you. A water cup emptier than you left it. Your hairbrush in the drawer. A blanket on the back of the couch instead of the arm. Things you murmur to yourself is just your memory being off, that you’re being paranoid.
He loves the sound of you singing to yourself when the apartment gets too quiet. Chattering to the air when you’re trying to keep yourself on track with chores.
Your neighbor does too. A single guy, handsome but knows it. Not your type, but he’s the sort to think he’s everyone’s type. He mentions that he hears you singing sometimes, that you have a nice voice. You look utterly mortified; Simon’s teeth grind.
And the little asshole won’t stop chatting with you. Your schedules line up just so that he’s usually leaving for the gym as you’re coming home - giving him excuses to hold you up, try to entice you into feelings Simon has no intention of letting you develop.
Well, moving season is coming. You’re not planning to leave, but Simon’s looking for a new place. The one next to yours is about to open up.
1K notes · View notes
babygirl-riley · 8 months
Text
“You want me to what now?” Simon asked stopping from cleaning up the dinner you made.
Stopped him clean in his tracks. It was such an out of park question that made his mind stop and his cock hard. You played with your hands and had a sheepish smile. “I think we should try with no condom,” Both of you wanted to be extra cautious of not getting pregnant, how much he would rather not glove it on his weight of not being a father beats it. “I am on the pill and worst case if we feel that it is necessary go get a Plan B. I just was talking to Danica…”
“Ah,” Simon said turning his heel and walking to the sink. “Of ‘ourse it was Dani.”
You frowned and rolled your eyes. “She told me it was better with no condom. That it feels better for the man.”
Simon chuckled shaking his head. “I have pleasure no matter the circumstances lovie.”
He placed the plates into the sink as he heard you walking to him. “Si-Just this once. If you say an affirmative no then it will be dropped and never spoken again but you have to look at me in the eyes and tell me no.”
Simon didn’t move for maybe a solid minute before turning around. His eyes were blown wide from lust, you knew that look like the back of your hand. He walked closer to you grabbing your waist and leaned in, you could feel his breath. “What if we can’t stop after one time?”
That made your eyes roll and your thighs rub together. You went to his ear and tugged the mask with your teeth. “Then I guess that would be a problem for a different day.”
Simon had chills run down his spine. He loved when your teeth would tug at his balaclava, then you saying that? He growled lowly before standing up straight. Simon deep down wanted this forever, being able to watch his seed leave your beautiful hole. Feeling your plushie walls gripping his cock. He picked you up and placed you on the counter pushing your thighs apart to place himself between them.
“Listen and listen close,” He started slowly getting on his knees as he wrapped his fingers around your leggings and panties. “I’m fucking ya right here and right now. No preparing. No nothing. Can you do that princess?”
You licked your lips as you moved your hips a bit. Placing your hands behind you to give you good support. Watching him slowly dropping your panties and pants down. He stood back up leaning his forehead to you, you placed both of your hands on his cheeks. “You sure Si?” You whispered pulling your fingers underneath his mask to take it off.
Once you saw his handsome face, you smiled softly giving him a soft kiss. “Yeah.” He whispered back before unbuckling his belt.
It made you whimper a bit as he kissed your lips, then your cheek, then your neck staying there and biting sucking. Knowing damn well work is going to that tomorrow. His fingers went to your cunt as he dived his finger in your hole fast before bringing up to his lip. He groaned and licked it all up. “I haven’t even touched you yet, soaking wet for a fantasy.”
“Simon pleeease,” You whispered hooking your legs around his waist. “I can’t wait any longer.”
He smiled, chuckled, and nodded sliding his pants and boxers off. You looked at his cock, his vein popping out more, his top red and swollen. You moaned even looking at his cock, you licked your lips scooting closer off to the edge. Simon chuckled again. “Needy little thing.” He grabbed your lower back and put his fingers in your pussy to gathering your juices.
You hummed as you watched him lather his cock with your cum. He looked back up at you. Both of your eyes connected you grabbed his cheek and brought him to your lips. His tongue asked for entrance into yours, when you parted your lips he slowly pushed his cock into your pussy. You gasped as he still kissed you, the stretch would always have a small pain, that would soon be replaced with pleasure.
Simon sighed loudly placing his head against your shoulder. You gasped longer, god how it felt different. You could feel every single part of his cock, especially the vein brushing against your walls. Simon filled you with his cock, both of you stayed there for a moment.
“F-ffuck,” He whispered kissing your shoulder. “This…mhm…your pussy feels so nice.”
You whimpered as you moved your hips. Simon hissed as he nodded, he pulled out and snapped right back in. Making you both gasp. He did it again and lifted himself to look in between the both of you. God how he didn’t realize how good it was with you out of the condom. He has fucked girls before for sure but this was different.
He could feel the walls of your pussy gripping around his cock, like it was meant for him. Your walls were so much more cushioned, soft, fuck he would say home. When you would clench, fuuuuck, he could buckle his knees and fall over. Simon started to pick up the pace as he watched yours and his cum mixing together.
“This pussy is mi…” He threw his head back for a moment and his eyes rolling behind his skull. “Fuck…if we continue this…you can…god damn…”
Simon never could have thought about him mumbling to you, he loved it. Loved being able to feel safe enough to mumble sweet things. He has only done it once when you were sucking him off, over and over to the point of overstimulation. Now here he is becoming a mumbling mess, god feeling you clench as he hit that spongy spot over and over.
He felt you were about to cum. “Simon…I’m— I can’t…” You were grabbing onto him, grabbing everywhere.
He nodded pressing his head against yours. “Cum baby girl I fuck I got you.”
That did it for him, her pussy clenched around him like a fucking glove. He started to pant as he fucked you harder and faster. God it was like you both were meant for each other cock and all. You looked at him and pulled him closer, getting down from your high. “You feel so fucking good baby,” you whispered into his ear. “I need you to fuck your cum into me.”
Simon growled as he held you closer as his hips became more erratic sloppy. God how you felt so fucking good, his good girl, his love, his everything. What if you did get pregnant? What would happen? God how beautiful you will look full of his child.
Simon started to whimper himself as you sucked behind his ear. Moaning once more. Hitting your second orgasm. He felt his cock twitch faster harder. “Yes yesyesyesyes!” You started to yell holding onto him even tighter.
That broke him. “Oh fuck,” He yelled feeling his cock twitch, his spine feeling like electricity shot through his body, his skin on fire. Fuck it felt so fucking good. “Oh fuck, fuck lovie fuck fuck!”
That’s when his rope of cum painted your walls. You also whined against his neck, slowly letting go of him intensely. You both laid against each other both of your foreheads sweating, panting. Simon was first to move, you noticed he was shaking a bit. You felt his cock soften inside you. He looked at you and placed his hand on your cheek. Simon slowly pulled out and watched as your cum and his cum started go come out.
Simon groaned watching it slowly hit the table. “Fucking hell lovie,” You looked at him smiling. “We are gettin rid of those condoms yeah?”
simon x reader guide
simon x reader smut list
1K notes · View notes