#simon ghost riley x reader fanfiction

[lazybutsmexy]

The Mission

Background Ghost x K9 handler!reader x Soap - K9 Dolly centered

A/N: this is related to this request, but it can be read as a stand alone.

Warnings: none! GN!Reader but they get periods.

Summary: K9 Dolly is sent on her first solo mission.

Word count: 2.1 k

This would be, quite possibly, her most important mission so far in her short life. It would be her first ever solo assignment, too. So, quite a big deal. Might lead to a promotion. Or maybe a steak dinner. She would be happy with whichever. 

Her nose twitched in the air as she peeked her head out into the hallway. Her ears were shot up straight as she scanned the area around her in earnest. 

All clear. 

Dolly stole a glance back before she left the room drowned in shadows. Her lean body allowed her to walk out without needing to push the door open any further - which was a good thing, given the fact she wouldn't be able to pull it closed again. 

Her blunt nails barely scratched the tile floor as she trotted down the hallway in the general direction of her objective. Dolly was confident in her strut, having memorized her path from the many times she had walked with Sergeant L/n in that same direction. She knew she had to cross the long hallway and make it to a big area, then another hallway, then another big, open area, enter a building, and cross yet another hallway to get to the infirmary. There she would deliver the note strapped to her collar, and guide whoever took the note back to the Sergeant's room. 

Easy peasy toy squeaky.

The echo of boot-strapped steps made her trot falter to a walk, and Dolly paid closer attention to the sound. Sergeant had said "bug-bug" which was short for "don't let any other soldier catch you or you'll get in trouble". Avoiding being caught was easy enough, she had two more running legs than anyone else on base. Avoiding being seen was the issue - it was what made her mission so thrilling. 

Dolly listened closely to the steps as they faded away, and she resumed her previous trot across the hallway. Soon enough, she arrived at the big area, where soldiers ate and the Lieutenant gave her meat scraps for some time. 

The common area was empty, although she noticed the distant clanging of pots and plates coming from somewhere on the right and- CHICKEN!

It smelled like chicken! Lunch would be chicken! Oh that was good news alright. Her nose tingled as the aroma wafted in, and her tail fanned behind her excitedly. Oh, she loved chicken! Chicken was so good, so tasty-

"...dog!"

Dog? No, chicken! 

Wait. 

Dog? She was a dog. 

Dolly's head turned to follow the voice and her eyes met the soldier that was stomping towards her. He stretched his hands to grab her and she jumped into action, ducking under his outstretched arm and booking it towards the open door.

Bug-bug!, it echoed in her brain as she sped up towards the lawn. Surprisingly, the soldier was really fast, being able to follow after her - although a couple dozen feet behind. He was shouting and giving her commands to stop. He was using the right words, the commands she had heard her whole training - but the Sergeant had given her a mission.

Dolly grew concerned, the more the soldier shouted, the more soldiers would see her, and she would eventually be caught. She had to find a way to get rid of him, and quickly. 

Her stride was firm and strong - she knew she would be able to outrun him with a bit of a push. And so she did, summoning her inner whippet she cut through the lawn like an arrow. The wind whistled past her ears and made her eyes sting a little, but she could take it - for the sake of her mission. 

Dolly took a wide turn behind the buildings, avoiding running into other soldiers who stepped away from her path in a mix of confusion and amusement. She ran around the enormous buildings until she got back to the front doors, and made a screeching halt, crawling under a parked humvee. 

The vehicle was tall enough for anyone to spot her if they crouched if just a little. But Dolly stayed still, snapping her mouth shut to hide her panting as she watched the legs of the soldier stomp away. She waited a few moments before sneaking from under the humvee and towards the building. She had to be very careful now, she couldn't risk being found and caught, she had to find the infirmary. 

Dolly pushed past the door and strutted in, the adrenaline of the chase still pumping in her system. A brief thought of being in the clear passed through her mind when she saw no one at the immediate proximity of the hallway, but something was wrong - she could feel it. she could smell it, and hear it.

It was much noisier than usual, clanking noises and grunts echoing in the air around her. It didn’t sound like an infirmary. Her uneasy steps led her to the source of the noise, a door a bit further away to the left. It was wide open, so she peered in and felt her anxiety grow.

It was filled with soldiers, lifting weights, punching sandbags, sparring against each other. It smelled of sweat and musk, and way too much testosterone. She tried to retrace her steps, bug-bug her way out of there as fast as she could, but her bum collided with something hard. 

Startled, she let out a loud yelp - effectively catching the attention of quite a few men inside the room - and turned around. Her ears were flat on her head as she looked up to see Captain Price looking down at her in amusement. 

“Ah, I did think I saw a dog running around out there,“ he chuckled, resting his hands on his hips, “I thought my eyes were deceiving me.” His voice didn’t sound angry, but Dolly couldn’t shake off the feeling of being in deep trouble. She was certainly surrounded now, she had no fighting chance. Besides, she was still recovering from her sprint earlier, so all she could hope was that he would be friendly to her. 

“Dolly?” Another familiar voice caught her attention and she whipped her head back into the room, just in time to notice Sergeant Johnny Soap walking towards her. She ducked her head a little lower, her ears remained flat, but her tail made the tiniest movement as he approached. Maybe if she looked very apologetic and showed how sorry she was they wouldn’t be so mad? “What’re you doing here, pup? Where's Y/n?”

A low whine left her throat as Soap stroked the fur on her back, and Dolly instinctively relaxed into his touch. 

“There’s something in her collar,” Ghost pointed out, approaching the group after Soap while drying the sweat off his neck with a small towel. Soap carefully reached around her collar until his fingers caught the piece of paper secured on it, and pulled it off. 

Dolly sat down and looked down dejectedly - her mission was finished, she had been caught. Her dark irises rose up at the men as the paper was unfolded, inwardly kissing her promotion - and her steak dinner - goodbye. 

Soap straightened the paper and found a note in Y/n’s handwriting, and Ghost looked over his shoulder to read it, too.

“Strong painkillers needed. Period cramps will be the death of me. Sgt. L/n.”

A short silence preceded Soap’s amused laugh, as he pocketed the note and leaned down to give Dolly an earnest scratch behind her ears. 

“Aw, you were sent on a little stocking mission, aye?” Dolly perked up and her ears shot up straight, did he understand? “You got in the wrong building, pup, the infirmary is in the next one.”

A low rumble resembling a chuckle came from Ghost, who also leaned down to give Dolly a good stroke. He then turned to Price, who hadn’t yet read the note and was eyeing them in curiosity. “I’ll go check on them, maybe Soap can aid the little scout on her task.”

“Aye, leave it to me,” Soap beamed, patting the side of his thigh and grinning at the pup, “Dolly, heel! Let’s get those painkillers, hm?” 

Dolly stood up and wagged her tail, instantly gluing her body to Soap’s left leg and looking up at him. He was good! He was going to help! 

Soap beamed down at her and led her out of the door, Ghost following them outside. Just as they stepped out, the soldier that had been trying to catch Dolly came to a stop before them, heaving loudly as he tried to catch his breath. He was red in the face, and his hair was in all directions, his uniform looked a little damp and definitely not as put together as it was when he first saw her. 

“Lieu- Lieutenant, Sergeant,” he panted in a greeting, barely keeping his body straight as he tried really hard not to wheeze in front of his superiors, “I- *pant* I’ve been trying to catch- *pant* catch the dog,” he swallowed down a cough, and Soap waited until the poor man regained a semi-normal breathing pattern before answering. 

“Well, there’s no need for that anymore, as you can see,” he reached down and rested his hand on top of Dolly’s head, who remained by his side even though she had the urge to hide behind him. 

“That dog shouldn’t be here, sir,” the soldier protested with a frown in his brow, “should be locked up.”

Ghost shared a look with Soap, before glancing back at the soldier, “this dog was sent on an errand by her handler,” the other man looked like he wanted to protest again, but he cut him off, “and by the way, this dog outranks you, private, just leave her be.”

At the man’s bewildered look, Price chimed in - he had walked out right on time to witness the exchange. “K9 agents share the same rank or higher than their handler, private, you must’ve read this in the military rule book,” the soldier straightened up as he noticed their Captain, but Price simply shot him an amused look, “K9 Dolly’s handler is Sergeant L/n, therefore this is Sergeant Dolly to you.”

“Uh, right,” the man flushed, giving his superiors an embarrassed nod, “my apologies sir, I’ll revise that.” 

Dolly simply watched as the soldier quickly saluted and scrambled away, but could practically smell the amusement in the three men around her. That relaxed her greatly under Soap’s palm. Both of them watched as Lieutenant Ghost walked towards the barracks before they resumed their walk to the infirmary. 

Moments later, Ghost found himself in front of a familiar door, opened in the slightest. He pushed it further, the hinges giving the tiniest whine and stirring Y/n from their dozing. He approached the bed, watching the blanketed lump making the tiniest movement. 

“...Dolly?” the lump groaned, and Ghost couldn’t help but smile under his balaclava.

“Wrong dog, love,” he hummed, the springs creaking a little under his weight as he sat down by their side. His hand rested on where he guessed was their back, and applied a bit of pressure as he rubbed it up and down, earning an appreciative moan, “have you eaten anything?”

“...had some water,” Y/n admitted after a few silent seconds. There was no use in lying, he would find out sooner or later anyway. 

Ghost frowned at that - he had feared it would be the case. Since Y/n had sent Dolly to the infirmary instead of going themselves, he assumed they hadn’t had the means to get proper breakfast either. “I’ll get you something proper later, ‘kay?” he promised, carefully lifting the edge of the blanket to peek at their scrunched-up face. He leaned down, pressing a clothed kiss on their clammy forehead.

Just then, his ears picked up the familiar scratch of nails on tile, and seconds later he had to pull away to let Dolly give away her share of kisses. He watched the tender scene as Soap crouched down in front of him, trying to get a peek of their face himself as he handed them a single pill and a bottle of water. 

Y/n slowly sat up, taking both and gulping the pill with a large swig of water before snuggling closer to Ghost’s warmth. Dolly watched the trio, her tail thumping against the floor as she waited for her chance to join the cuddle pile that didn’t take long to form. Soap climbed on the bed and gave her a wink, patting his lap. 

Mission: pain relief. Status: completed.

A/N2: raise your hand if you also find the fact about military dogs having ranks awesome

#ghost x reader x soap #simon ghost riley x reader x john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader imagine #simon ghost riley x reader fanfiction #ghost x reader #ghost x reader fanfiction #ghost x reader imagine #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader imagine #john soap mactavisn x reader fanfiction #soap x reader #soap x reader fanfiction #soap x reader imagine #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader

[mcntsee]

The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

#y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #konig x reader #cod x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #konig x y/n #harry potter x y/n #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows x reader #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey x y/n #wylan van eck x reader #fanfiction #fluff #angst #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor x y/n #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #the umbrella academy x reader #five hargreaves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader

[simonrileysfavteacup]

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

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

“I want a big mac.”

He groans louder. 

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

He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”

You almost tear up. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full. 

“Do ya think he’ll like me?”

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

He chuckles, “Love you too.”

He leans down, kissing your belly. 

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

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

[rileyslibrary]

After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.

A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!

———————————————————————

A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.

“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”

You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.

You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.

“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”

“Pardon?” he asks.

“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”

The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.

“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”

“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”

“Where am I?” You ask.

“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”

Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.

“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”

“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”

“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”

“Several.” He nods.

“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”

“It’s your job, love.” He replies.

“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”

“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”

“I was really worr—”

“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”

“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.

“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”

“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”

“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”

“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”

“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”

“Can he?”

“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”

“Is he that good?” He asks.

“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”

“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”

“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.

The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.

“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”

“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”

“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”

“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”

“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”

“Even then.” You confirm.

“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”

“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”

“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”

“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”

“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”

“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”

“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”

“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.

“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.

“What did he lie about?”

“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”

“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”

“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”

“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.

“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”

“I do,” he confirms.

“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”

“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”

“How is she?” You ask.

“Perfect.” He states.

“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”

“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.

“Do you love her?” You ask.

“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x female reader #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #simon riley #cod mwii #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fluff

[victoryverse]

simon can't get over the feel of how tight your cunt gets everytime he comes back from a mission. it's not been stretched in a while, your little fingers or toys are nothing in comparison to his fucking thick length.

"shit" he curses with every thrust, "how do you get so fucking tight every time? jesus christ. just squeezing me, aren't you?"

your mouth would be dropped open, pleasure and pain mixing together, your tight pussy opening up to take him in.

again and again, rough, full thrusts that make you run your nails down his back. he doesn't even react to the pain of that, too focused on opening you up for him.

"shit. gonna have to fuck this pretty cunt every day"

he smirks as he sees you gasp and writhe beneath him, too fucked out to reply.

"multiple times a day too, yeah?"

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

[hecateslore]

💗🎀

papa!simon is on my mind, so ask about olderbf!simon and papa!simon cause my asks are open and I'm being super generous--okay bye!

“My boobs hurt,” You whine, rubbing them over the fabric of your t-shirt. Simon watches you from the dining chair, Sitting with your daughter, trying to get her to finish her food. You were making yourself a mineral water mocktail while Simon drank his beer.

“I’ll massage them later,” He offers, which comes out more like a statement. “Eat,” he points to his daughter's half empty plate. She shakes her head, “No tv.” He raises a brow, “Don’t,” you chuckle. “Go babe,” You say, grabbing her plate and letting her run off to do god knows what in the living room. 

“She’s never gonna learn,” Simon sighs, watching his baby run around throwing her toys in the air, causing destruction. “That’s your fault.” you laugh. Simon gets up, clearing his plate, “I know,” he admits, rubbing your very swollen belly. 

“They’re gonna be worse!” he dips down to peck your stomach, “I’m gonna go change.” He says stretching. 

When he comes out to the living room, You on the couch and your Simon duplicate rolling around on the floor while her cartoons play in the background. “What are you doing, bug?” He gets on the floor also, laying on his back, letting his daughter roll around him, occasionally kicking his side or slapping him in the face accidentally. 

You were on your phone not paying attention to the two on the floor, Until it got quiet, Your daughter sitting on Simon's stomach while he laid on the floor, both of them staring at the tv. 

“You okay?” you say looking up from your phone. 

Simon looks at you, “Tv.” he mumbles and gets right back to it. You tap him with your foot, “Since she’s down, get her pigtails out.” He nods, swatting your foot away from his shoulder. 

He lifts her with so much ease, and takes the rubber bands from her out so easily and quickly, Playing with the warm honey curls that sit on top of her head, massaging her scalp a little. 

Simon sat on the floor with his back on the couch and your guy's daughter between his legs, he played with her hair, her big brown eyes getting droopy with sleep. 

“I need to give her a bath,” You whisper to Simon who was too invested in Mulan. “C’mon buggie, Bath and then we go to sleep.” You say reaching for her, She nods.

You bathe her, and get her under the covers in no less than 45 minutes. 

Simon holding her in his arms, rocking her back and forth just like he did when she was a newborn, “You sleepy buggie?” he mumbles to her, she nods her eyes closed and head on his shoulder, “Me too.” he sighs, placing his hand on top of her head, “Let’s make night-night.” He places her on her toddler bed, under five minutes she’s out, small snores leave her mouth. 

You stand at the edge of your bed rubbing your big belly while you watch Simon kiss her cheek and tuck the cover around her for the millionth time. 

RAHHHHH I NEED TO GIVE HIM A SOCCER TEAM----

#papa!Simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley cod #ghost mw2

[swordsandholly]

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #call of duty #cod x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #ghost x reader #plus size reader #fat reader #reader insert #simon riley x you #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #smut #cod smut #reader insert smut #one shot #Ghost with OCD is my roman empire #he’s so much more well adjusted than I usually write him but it was fun #holly writes

[sweetnothingtm]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

do you like it? how do i look?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod #simon ghost riley x you #modern warfare 2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley fanfic #simon riley blurb #ghost fanfiction #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare #cod imagine #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare

[bunnys-kisses]

the jailbird (2)

prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley

part 1 | original text post

cw: (former) prisoner!simon, civilian!reader, romance & fluff, smut, size kink, sane and consensual, roleplay, rough sex, spanking, bondage & gags, tattoo kink, dom!simon, sub!reader

bunny says: love the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are encouraged!

-

living with an ex-convict was interesting. he still woke up at the crack of dawn, and as a result you were up too. he didn't know where anything was in your apartment, he hated that he had to wake you up but he didn't know where the spoons were.

you were happy to help him and spend some extra time together before you went to work. the more you were around him, the more you realized how big he was compared to you.

even his hands were much larger than yours. he loved to wrap you up in his arms and hold you while you were making yourself some breakfast. those strong tattooed arms around your middle as you flipped eggs.

sometimes he'd bury his face in your neck and visibly relaxed. he was still dealing with his fair share of trauma from the previous events of his life. and while it often left him stressed, he found comfort in you.

"you're my anchor, love." he said within the first week of his return to society.

you simply smiled and tried not to blush too hard as you said, "well, si. i'll happily be your anchor, as long as your mine."

"you're anchor, your rock, your foot solider, your lover." he said as he kept his gaze on you. since he had been living with you, you found his expression had softened a little. he could relax here.

"my husband." you reached out for him. he took your hand and kissed the top of it before he held it for a moment then returned it to you.

simon had a long road ahead of him, being on the inside for so long was going to cause some problems. but, he knew even if he had nothing. he had you.

it was almost five months into living together and he managed to get an interview working in small parts manufacturing. while it was tedious, they didn't need to look at his criminal record. which greatly excited him.

when he came home from the interview, he told you that it went well. that they seemed to like his dedication and were impressed when he mentioned his time in the military. he said, "got the whole 'thank you for your service'." as he held you and kissed you deeply.

it felt like your little lives were coming together. but the one thing you hated to admit to yourself. you sort of had a dark side, it wasn't anything too aggressive or 'evil'. you thought that simon was the perfect boyfriend, he'd never hurt a hair on your head.

but the idea of being with a criminal sort of had a sexy ring to it. to be with the bad boy. you almost felt embarrassed to admit it when he'd come home with flowers for you, or when he smiled at you. or when he held your hand when you went out. with you he got to be a person with love.

deep down you wanted to know the depths of your boyfriend. you wanted to know what a man like him, with his skill set, was capable of. you wanted it to burn, ache and hurt.

it took a lot of courage, you communicated with your boyfriend about a little make believe. while hesitant at first, he slowly started to warm up to the idea. you knew he was open to it when he came home from one, actually the first day at his job, with a bundle of bondage rope.

"the blue looks good on you." he remarked as he finished tying you up on the bed. he had your arms behind your back with you on your side and one leg tied to the bed post.

you looked at him, those eyes of yours were so alluring. you tried to move your leg but was stuck to the bed. he smiled down at you and tapped the ball gag in your mouth.

"but it doesn't matter what you want. right?' he asked, "i've searched a long time for you. you're not an easy woman to catch." he got between your legs, and hiked one leg over his shoulder as he started to aggressively lick your cunt. it was already dripping from the act of him tying you up.

there was no escape for you, even if you somehow got out of the bondage. he was almost twice the size of you and could do some damage if he wanted to.

you squirmed and whimpered around the ball gag as he took long, hard licks against your clit. he wanted to make sure his girl was wet enough for his large cock.

"maybe i should breed ya. bring you back to the boys all fat with my brats.' he purred, "i don't think they can throw ya in the can if you're pregnant. but who knows, you got pregnant by a thief." he continued to lick your sweet cunt. he was in heaven.

he really was so much bigger than you. he overpowered you, he could keep you down and fuck you until he had his fill, and there was nothing you could do about it. you were bound and gagged like a good girl.

he kept at it, he even teased your hole with his thick fingers until you were squirming more with your moans getting louder. he slapped your ass and gave you a stern look over your pussy. he gripped your leg over his shoulder. "shut up." he growled, "i don't need ya causin' a scene. i'd hate to go back to prison because you can't keep your trap shut up."

you hole clenched and he chuckled. he patted where he smacked and grabbed at the flesh before he went back to his feast between your legs. it didn't take long before the slick between your thighs got all over his face.

he pulled away and sat up on his knees. he stared down at you with your thigh wrapped around his waist. he was going to fuck you at a weird angle, but it was the only way he could keep his little prize tied up. he wiped is face, "you are the best thing i've caught." he said, "stolen a lotta loose change, but they're nothin' to the sweet taste of your cunt." he got his cock out his sweatpants and started to rub it against your slick pussy. he let out a harsh sigh from the sensation, "they should be keepin' ya behind the vault door." the tip slipped in for a moment and you clenched around it.

you whimpered and tried to pushed yourself down on his cock, but it was hard to do that when you were so tied up, he pushed the hair out of your eyes, your leftover wetness got on your cheek from his movements.

"but, you need to know." he said, "you're mine to do whatever to. your mommy and daddy aren't gonna save ya. you fell in love with a bad man and now you're lettin' him fuck your cunt raw. what's gonna happen at christmas when you're all swollen with my brats. riley boys are lil hell raisers." he went back to rubbing his cock up against your slit, "you'll be mine forever. my little prize. i should've taken ya a long time ago. just snatched ya up off the train. keep ya to myself." his tongue was getting loose from the buzz of pleasure in his brain.

you whimpered around the gag and almost cried out when he slipped his large cock into you easily. you felt it in your guts and his pace was much more brutal than the other times you've made love. that was the difference, you made love before. this was dirty, primal sex between a criminal and his captive.

the sounds of sex filled the air, paired with simon's heavy breathing. his heart was thumping steadily as he pushed his cock as deep as it would go. he loomed over you as he drilled himself into you. you were a comfortably tight fit around his cock.

you dug your nails into your palms from the immense pleasure and yelped when he slapped your ass. you whimpered when he leaned further into you to get closer into your personal space. his pace was brutal and it excited you.

"i'm a bad man." he said lowly, his voice close to your ear, "my worst crime is tainting such a precious angel." he held onto your calf as he bent your hips the closer he got. his voice was hot, "fill ya right up, make sure no other man has a chance to get ya knocked up." his tattooed hand went to your stomach which he gave a small rub, "my girl carryin' my boys."

your eyes almost rolled back from the heat in your body. you were almost drooling around the rubber gag in your mouth. it was dirty, it was filth. if anyone saw the state you were in, they would be shocked!

your head felt full of lust, you felt your lover so close to him. you knew despite the roughness and the harsh words, the entire scenario was safe. you knew you could get out of this if you needed to. but it wasn't getting to be too much, it was just enough.

the wetness between your legs and the flips in your stomach only excited you. to have such a large man be so domineering. it made you feel small in a good way. it was almost like being bound made you feel protected.

that you could lay yourself over to him and he'd cherish you. even if you were his little 'prize' for the evening. the hottest part was the pace at which his cock was battering your womb.

you whimpered against your gag and felt the heat rush through you. you held onto your palms as best as you could with your arms bound. the entire situation left you spinning, there was no wonder that orgasm crept up on you so easily.

with a loud moan around your gag, you climaxed around his cock. the tightness of your cunt mid-orgasm milked his cock till he was seeing stars. he came inside of you, his seed hit against the back of your womb.

the feeling of being able to do so left him a little slack-jawed. but he kept it together, even if his cheeks were flushed. when he finished, he slowly pulled out and started to untie you. his hands were shaky from the after effects of his orgasm.

he took the gag out of your mouth and pulled you in for a kiss when he finished untying you. he fell into bed with you and laid on top of the covers with you. he held you gently and kissed your face. he gave you gentle praise as he kept you in his arms.

when he looked at you, all was right in the world. you held onto him and pressed kisses against his face. after care consisted of tea and a small snack followed by a shower together, where he washed every part of you.

even though you were capable of doing it yourself, you still appreciated how detail orientated he was in the manner of getting you clean. little did you know that biology was working its magic and simon's seed found home in your cervix.

you better hope that the line about the riley boys being hellions was untrue or you'd have your hands full. it didn't help that when simon's hand grazed your stomach as he washed you that you blushed and tucked yourself closer to him.

mama riley did have a ring to it.

#jailhouse rock au #bunny writes #call of duty #reader insert #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost smut #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #prison au #call of duty fanfic

[lazybutsmexy]

Bird hunting

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

Chapter 11: Canary

Ch. 10 < Series Masterlist > Ch. 12

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

Summary: A reunion and an apology.

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

Word count: 2300~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Canary!”

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The stuttering sound of a helicopter’s blades. 

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

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

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

Just… Just a nap. 

“[Name]! Please!”

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

Taglist: @died-in-a-field-of-flowers @rafaelacallinybbay @namenotimportant1373 @ragingbookdragon @zinfairy @scrumplump @omgitstatertot @fullmoon-94 @kalamataolivesssss @embers-of-alluring @warenai @frazie99 @kee-0-kee @littlezarp @scaredknight @tapioca-marzipan @kendahl757 @sweetybuzz25 @cumbersome-robes @carlyi @oyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoya @scarletbandit @twistytimesandthoughts @angelsquidd @ilovemoneyandcheese @sail-boat21 @vvoidspaceeee @httpsarii1 @delreyaddict @madelyn324566

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#ghost x reader x soap #ghost x reader #ghost x soap #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley imagines #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader imagines #simon ghost riley x reader fanfiction #simon ghost riley x reader angst #ghost x reader imagines #ghost x reader fanfiction #ghost x reader angst #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader imagines #john soap mactavish x reader fanfiction #john soap mactavish x reader angst #simon ghost riley x reader x john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #task force 141 #cod mw2 #call of duty: modern warfare ii #cod mwii #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 x reader fanfiction #cod mw2 x reader imagines #cod mw2 x reader angst

[chaosandmarigolds]

Yeah yeah- Simon’s big and protective and he’s scary but THIS MAN- ahem, this man’s love language is physical touch. Don’t ask me why. But it is

Simon! Who begs for kisses as soon as you’re the sanctuary of your home like a man starved

Who likes touching you but like in the most innocent way possible (and not depends on the mood) with a hand on your back, thighs, or his cheeks pressed against the spot inbetween your shoulder blades

Who loves kissing your joints- wrists, ankles and knees

Who! Does flinch when you try to kiss his neck and practically recoils from his but lord knows he loves giving neck kisses

Who! Stole your perfume and sprayed it on his coat whenever he’s deployed

Who! Doesn’t get checked up when he’s back from deployment cause he is going home and he going to eat good food, and he’s going to see you so therefore he does not care about the gash in his side that was quickly stitched up by the field medic (spoiler, you made him go get medical care)

Who! Listens to your heartbeat like a baby, head on chest, and he just listens…he said it was soothing

Who! Did almost tear up when you tried to leave him at a family get together of yours because your cousin was dragging you away and you told him to stay with the dads (separation anxiety, he’s a puppy I’m telling you)

Who! Is mean to everyone. Literally everyone but will then turn to you-

“I’m sorry-“

“Sorry ain’t fuckin cutting it, get it done or I’ll have your hide on my w-“….”Hi, luvie.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #ghost x you #cod x you #xfem!reader #call of duty x reader #ghost fanfiction #x fem!reader #coco's chaos <3

[simonrileysfavteacup]

As always, Simon stumbles into your shared apartment, sighing. He drops his gear by the door, stripping himself down to his boxers. 

He walks into the living room, where the tv was on mute and a figure slept on your couch. He smiles, heading over to you, a blanket over your sleeping body. Simon stares at you for a moment before picking you up, making you stir awake. 

He smiles, “Hi lovie.”

“Si?”

“‘Hats me.” 

“You’re home?”

“Yup.”

“I haven’t made dinner…”

“S’ what? Pizza place down the stree’ is open.”

“But you deserve a home cooked-”

“Lovie? Why are you s’ hot?”

You blink. “What?”

“Like burnin’ hot…what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Your burnin’, lovie.”

���I’m fine,” you lie, thrashing around in his arms. “I needa make dinner!”

“You’re sick?”

You don’t respond. 

“Bed. Now.” That was his stern voice. His lieutenant voice. “‘m orderin’ takeout.”

“But-”

“Lovie,” he warns. “Don’t make me tie you t’ the bed. Now, stay there an’ rest.”

He leaves the room to order dinner. When he gets back, you’re fast asleep. 

***

You stir awake hours later, the TV in your bedroom on, Simon sitting next to you. He’s munching on a rice bowl. You groan, “My head hurts.”

“Have ya taken any meds?” You shake your head. He holds out a bite of his food to you. You accept it happily. “Got them rice pla’ers you love so much.”

“Thank you. I can never get old of them.”

“You should.”

“I love you so much, but I haven’t gotten old of you.” 

He rolls his eyes. “You’re gone take some meds after eatin’, ‘kay?”

You nod. “Love you, Si.”

“Love you too, lovie.”

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

[oceantornadoo]

your weighted blanket (simon riley x f!reader)

could be part of this two lieutenants series but it’s standalone

—

“you know what i want?”

“wha’?”

“a weighted blanket.”

simon turned away from his bedroom desk to stare at you, his dark eyes squinting incredulously.

“what?! i think it’d help me sleep.”

“wha’ the fuck is a weighted blanket.”

you huffed a sigh. “it’s literally a weighted blanket simon. having weight pressing down on you helps you sleep, it’s scientifically proven.” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you laid back on his bed.

turning off his desk lamp, he made his way to his bed. he joined you on top of the covers, giving you plenty of space. keeping it platonic. not that he wanted to, but that was another thing.

“can’t jus’ have some sop lay on you?” the words hurt coming out, but it was the only thing he could say. desperately looking for a sign that you were talking to someone as you were so tightlipped about your escapades until after they ended.

“i’m on a man break. they all suck.” no one measured up to the unending care simon gave you, even if he was just a friend. just a friend who lets you come into his room every night, talking yourself to sleep. just a friend who never forgets your favorite body wash or candle scent on supply runs.

“they don’t know how to treat a woman like you.” his words echoed in the dark, ideas of what they meant bouncing around in your brain. “a woman like me?” silence. “don’t be mean, si.”

fuck he was so stupid. needed to watch his tone better, like gaz was always telling him. “dove, jus’ meant a smart independent woman like yourself. yer lookin’ for a partner and they’re look for a mother or a fuck. or both.” your jaw dropped. “oh. thanks.” his words thickened the air. no one had ever talked about you like that, like you were something to be treasured, not kept. like he respected you.

“if you really need a weighted blanket i-“ “yeah?” you sounded too eager, but you didn’t care. you turned towards him, catching his eye in the gleam of the base lights outside his window. “could be yers. if you want. strictly platonic.” he scratched his head, looking away. embarrassed. “yeah, platonic. course, yeah. that’s fine. good, i mean.” you needed to get your act together and stop sounding like a teenager, but he just offered to be your blanket. surely that was more than platonic.

“now?”

“sure.”

you sat on his bed like a dead fish, arms at your sides. you were not about to initiate what surely would be the most awkward non-cuddle session in your life. simon pressed one large paw into the mattress, hauling his huge body up on one arm. he moved down farther on the bed, his head parallel to your ribs. then, with the uttermost care, he shifted on top of you, hovering. waiting. “you can lay on me si, it’s okay.” he released his hands slowly, the full force of his body laying on you. 250+ pounds of pure machine, a body honed from years in the military. a soldier, a sniper, a lieutenant, now at your mercy, body covering yours completely.

“not too weighted for you?” you giggled. an actual giggle from his fellow lieutenant. “no, si. not too weighted.” your hand instinctively went to his hair before you could stop yourself. “is this comfortable? you’re on my ribs.” he grunted. it actually hurt like a bitch, your bone pressing into him through layers of fat, but he was laying on you and therefore could not complain. “you can move up, i won’t mind.” well, if you were letting him. he wanted to make the most of this blanket situation, this type of intimacy so foreign to him.

simon scooted up your body and laid his head on your tits. built-in pillows, one might call them. you hand went to his hair again, slowly scratching his scalp. “this ok?” you never touched like this, had never touched him like something precious. he grunted, a yes in “ghost” as you liked to call it. you continued running your hand through his hair, surprised at the softness of his locks. his face was against your breast, and usually you’d be embarrassed, but lines had been crossed and all bets were off. his body was heavy, sure, but the weight of it was comforting. all you could think of was him, not the annoying recruit from this morning, not the bad dinner you had at the mess hall. only the smell of the base shampoo and his natural musk, something uniquely him but not gross.

all simon could hear was your heartbeat. it had quickened when he first laid down, but now it was slowing to a comforting beat. you were here, you were breathing. the gunfire and the smell of bombs in his head meant nothing as long as he had you like this, in his arms where no one could hurt you. he could feel your body relaxing, muscles losing the day’s tension and giving themselves over to sleep. as your breathing slowed and you moved to a lower, more comfortable position on his pillow, he knew time could stop and all that would matter was you, right here, with him.

--

part one part two part three part four

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod 141 #ghost call of duty #fluff #tornadothoughts #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost imagine #ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #cod ghost

[euno11a]

your boyfriend Simon gets home from a mission, and he’s very clearly tired and exhausted from the whole day. The main mission was to catch Makarov and lock him up for good. Sadly, the mission went wrong and they didn’t catch him, and that means Simon has been on edge ever since.

you were trying to get him to fall asleep, but nothing worked. That’s when you instructed him to lie on his tummy, and he did so. You started massaging his shoulders, squeezing and massaging the sore and tight muscles. He let out small groans when he felt the tension release. Your hands gently grazed over his shoulders after, gently gliding over his shoulders in a gentle and steady motion. But when he felt your fingertips dance over his shoulders, he had to ask.

“Wha’re you doin’, lovie?” He asked in a relaxed manner, voice slightly muffled my the pillow.

“I’m making pizza…” you mumbled quietly as you did gentle chopping motions over his shoulders. “Adding some green peppers…” you said as you continued the motion. You pressed your finger tips to different spots on his shoulder in a dotting motion, “I like olives, so I’m gonna add some…”

as you continued your motions, a small smile broke out on his lips. These were the moments he missed and loved with you. These weird yet comforting moments that made his day better. “So ‘m your pizza?” He asked quietly, smile evident in his voice.

your soft hum of approval made him chuckle, a sound that always made you smile. His eyes started to droop and you repeated the motions a few more time, eventually fully falling asleep.

“Now I gotta put it in the oven.” You said as you pulled the cover over his bare back and laid beside him, nuzzling into his side. You could hear his gentle and even breaths and you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Pizza’s done…”

#simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #ghost fanfiction #fluff #fluff headcanons #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2

[victoryverse]

'thought i told you to not fucking touch, didn't i?" he retracts his face from between your legs, bringing his hand up to your pussy, spreading the lips apart. He leans in and spits directly on it, and watches as it trickles down to your ass.

you instinctively close your legs, and he spanks your thighs, spreading them open. a spank is delivered to your spread pussy, the blow landing on your clit, making you cry out.

"shut up and take it"

he's back at it again, licking and slurping your juices, bringing one finger it and pushing it into your needy pussy. you whimper and moan, squeezing and rolling your nipples to distract your hands from reaching for his hair. his pace is punishing, finger fucking you while his tongue assaults your swollen clit, your legs shaking, and tears prickling up in your eyes.

'can-can i-cum?' you ask, your voice just a whimper.

'no. not till i say to' his tongue replaces his long, thick fingers, pushing inside your tiny entrance and trying to lick up all the cream oozing out from it. your back arches at the sensation, and another sharp spank is landed at your pussy, and you cry out once again. he doesn't stop, though. tongue-fucks you till you feel like you would pass out, your legs aching and pussy throbbing. tears are flowing freely, staining the pillow wiith your makeup and mascara.

he's having his fun, eating you out for hours as if it means nothing.his jaw aches, but he doesn't stop. he won't stop till he's positively cramping, and then he'll pull off, replacing his tongue and fingers with his hard cock. push it inside your warm pussy, almost cuming right then and there with how fucking good it feels.

then he will fuck you bloody raw, the headboard slamming against the wall, and your throat sore from screaming and moaning. and then, only then, will he let you cum, but not without licking it all up from your abused pussy afterwards.

#cod #cod smut #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #call of duty smut #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon ghost x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost #simon riley #cod ghost #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #modern warfare 2 #call of duty fanfic #call of duty oc

[dashofghost]

PRACTICE

or, simon riley has a big dick. that's all. mdni.

"Are you sure?" Simon asks, for maybe the fourth time. You pull him down for a kiss, tangling your hands in his grown out buzz-cut. His lips are chapped and familiar against yours, moving in a well-rehearsed dance.

"If you don't fuck me right now, Simon Riley, I will chop your dick off," you tease, pulling him closer. He chuckles, wrapping his huge hands around your thighs, pulling them open. He watches, lip caught between his teeth, as you flutter and clench around nothing, slick coating your inner thighs.

"Tap out if it gets too much?" he confirms, but it's more like he's asking himself, smearing slick over your folds and your opening. You nod, looping your arms around his neck as he braces himself on his forearms above you.

"Si," you gasp as he pushes himself in. He knocks the air from your lungs, the vein under his tip rubbing against you. You arch your back up as you feel yourself stretch around him.

"Oh, oh god," Simon groans, hands landing on your thighs to ground himself. He pulls them apart, head falling back as he watches his your hole swallow him.

"Si, it's big," you whine, feeling the dull, pleasurable ache between your thighs grow. Simon rubs messy circles on your clit, pressing an apologetic kiss to your temple.

"I know, 'm sorry angel, just a little bit to go," he soothes, wiping away a stray tear from the corner of your eye. He pushes himself in to the hilt and watches stars dance in his vision. He's gasping for air, completely lost in pleasure.

His hands are shaking a little as he pulls your thighs up, locking them around his waist. You whimper at the new position, nails clawing down his back. Simon's head drops into the crook of your shoulder, gasping in your ear.

"Si, think I'm gonna-"

"I know," he groans into your neck, "I know, I can fuckin feel it sweetheart, you're so fuckin perfect-"

You cum with a whine, and it takes everything, all those years of military training, to stop Simon from cumming right then. He's pretty sure he's drawn blood from his bottom lip. He doesn't care.

As the aftershocks wash over you, he pulls out just a tiny bit, before rolling his hips back into you, and it's euphoria. He's only done it three times before you're writhing underneath him, leaving crescent-moon marks on his biceps.

"More, Si, I need more, I need it," you beg, tightening the grip on his arms. Simon's head is spinning, he doesn't know if it's the creamy ring of cum at the base of his cock or the fact that you just fucking came that does it to him, but he knows he won't last.

"Greedy fucking girl," he groans, crashing his hips into yours. The slick sounds that emanate from where your bodies meet fill the room, and Simon shouldn't find them hot but he does.

"God, I'll give you fuckin' everything," he gasps, "it's- it's all for you, angel."

◇─◇──◇─◇

Logan if you're reading this get off my tumblr

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