#Cod Ghost x Reader

[saturncodedstarlette]

[Having Ghost as an online friend]

Ghost, texting :

So you got a boyfriend?

Y/N :

Why?

You wanna ask me out on a date? 😏

Ghost :

Maybe 😉

Do YOU have a boyfriend?

Y/N :

No ☹️

Ghost :

You never told me your real name

Y/N :

Why do you wanna know my real name?

[Ghost watching you thru the small camera he hid somewhere in the ur room]

Ghost :

• • •

Just wanna know who I’m looking at

Y/N :

What?

Ur joking

Ur joking right?

Ghost this isn’t funny

Why are you leaving me on seen

Ghost

Ghost answer

Ghost please tell me you’re joking

Ghost :

• • •

Just kidding :)

Haha that really scared you 😹

Y/N :

Ghhhhhoooost !!! 😡

U big meanie

Srsly why do u like to pick on me sm 😭

Ghost :

Can you blame me? Your reactions are really really cute :)

[aoioozora]

Simon.

Part 8

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost

Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: I still can't believe that I've written 8 whole chapters for a oneshot that I never planned on making into a series! But I'm glad it's coming along well and that you're enjoying it :) I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Tags: @cmbghost @gluttonybiscuits @paintlavillered @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @iimichie @mxtokko

“Morning, Simon!” 

____ and Lindsey arrived at Simon's door at seven in the morning as planned. His crush was the one who excitedly greeted him, while her friend looked disgruntled and ticked at having to be up so early. 

“Morning,” he greeted them civilly as his hand instinctively ran through his hair, trying not to appear even the slightest disheveled or flustered at the sight of ____’s smiles, and moved away from the door to let the two in. 

“Have a seat. I'll bring you some tea,” he said, promptly moving towards the kitchen. 

The ladies, particularly the author, took in the surroundings of his little flat as they entered and sat down. The entire place as a whole was simple. The walls of the living room were empty and unpainted except for a singular, ancient grandfather clock that hung alone near his curtained balcony, filling the quiet room with its rhythmic ticking. She saw that he was concerned more with pragmatics than aesthetics; if it didn't serve a purpose, then it wasn't needed. 

She saw that he favored dark colors of blue and black, and neutrals, but found that bright colors were speckled throughout the room in his red floor lamp, the gold painted knobs of his brown television stand, and the red and white chevron patterned cushions on his grey couch. The simple state of his room made her wonder if his bedroom was more personalised. 

A hint of green caught her attention and she turned to the balcony. A few potted plants of mint, tomatoes, and coriander, all of which were healthy and green, swayed gently in the morning breeze. She smiled at this. “He’s a gardener,” she thought to herself, not quite expecting it.

The smell of lemon and mint wafted through the air, bringing her thoughts back. Simon brought out a tray of three mismatched teacups and a glass teapot filled with what smelled and looked like lemon tea. 

“Have some tea,” he set down the tray on the coffee table and poured out the tea for them. 

She, wanting to use Simon as a model for her character, Frederick, watched keenly as he poured with a thoughtful, concentrated look on his face. She wondered why he used a glass teapot over porcelain or any other material, but that was probably not important. However, she was not going to let even the smallest things about him and his choices escape her scrutiny. 

“When will Johnny come?” asked Lindsey as soon as she had her sip of tea. 

Simon glanced at the grandfather clock. “At six forty-five, he said he'd be here in ten minutes. He's picking up our other friend, Kyle too. Maybe there's some hold-up,” he answered. He felt a little strange; it was his first time properly speaking to Lindsey, and she seemed to look judgingly at him, as if to find a fault. 

____ was silent, as she was more concentrated on the taste and temperature of her tea. It was lightly sweetened and refreshing thanks to the lemon and mint. A mental note was already taken that Frederick too would be good at brewing tea. 

Simon's ringtone tore the silence and he immediately slid the phone out of his jeans. Thinking it was Johnny, he looked expectantly, but it was his mum. Looking back at the ladies, he excused himself and went out to the balcony to talk. 

“What do you think of him?” ____ asked Lindsey, who took slow sips of her tea as the two watched the man pace around the balcony through the partially drawn translucent curtains. 

“He makes good tea,” she answered, “I think I'll approve of him a bit.” To Lindsey, a man who could brew a good tea was worth marrying, because, according to her, it meant that he cared about the little things, like making tea taste good. As ____ smiled, she paused for a moment before quipping, “He seems nice so far, but I don't trust him just yet.”

____ shook her head, chuckling. Lindsey was always so skeptical of everyone and everything, both a vice and a virtue. 

Simon soon emerged from the balcony into the living room, brows furrowed with concern. He looked straight at ____ and said, “I need to have a word with you, darling,” and then promptly stepped into the kitchen without waiting for an answer, expecting her to follow. 

She instantly set down her teacup and followed Simon into the kitchen. “What's the matter?” she asked as soon as she entered, finding him leaning his back on the kitchen counter, arms crossed. 

He turned to her, almost opening his mouth to speak but cautiously glanced at the open door; he looked back at her, beckoning her to come closer. When she did, he said, “I don't know how you'll react to this but I need you to hear me out, alright, darling?” 

Her curiosity heightened and she nodded.

“Y'see, my mum just called and they're going to have a family reunion soon since my old man's come back home for a holiday from his military service,” he paused, sucking in a sharp breath, unsure about how she would take his next words, but continued anyway, “And my mum asked me if I found a girlfriend yet because she's worried I'm going to die single…” he paused again, “and I may have accidentally told her that you're my girlfriend.” 

“You what?” she stared incredulously at Simon, although she wasn't quite opposed to what he did. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, shaking his head, embarrassed with himself, “I'm really sorry.” 

“Wait, does your mum know about me?” 

“Yeah, I told her a few weeks ago that I recently made friends with this lass,” he paused to sigh again, “And when she asked if I finally found a girlfriend, I accidentally said yes, and when she asked if it was you…” he paused again and shrugged. 

The lady paused. Now that he said it, it couldn't be helped and she had to play along. Not that it bothered her. She chuckled. “Well, it's alright. You take the trouble of pretending to be my boyfriend, so I guess it wouldn't hurt to pretend to be your girlfriend for a bit.” 

Simon looked back at her, visibly relieved. 

“Now, what do you need me to do?” she asked. 

“That's the hard part. We'll have to make up a story of how we met and how we hit it off. And I'll have to bring you home and introduce you to my family. And not just that, you know who else will be there.” He pursed his lips tight. 

She immediately knew. She wiped her clammy hands on her jeans and nodded. “Right, yes.”

He could see the apprehension on her face and in her body as she crossed her arms. Feeling terrible that he dragged her into this, he said, “Darling, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. If going there and meeting him again will make you uncomfortable, then I'm not forcing you to come with me.” 

She drew in a shaky breath and pondered for a moment. Simon watched her, gulping harshly. 

“No,” she finally said, resolute, “I shouldn't be so scared all the time. If I'm going to be there as your girlfriend, I shouldn't be afraid of some ex of mine.”

Simon blinked in surprise at this response. He appreciated her bravery, and felt his admiration for her increase. However, he didn't show it, and kept his facial expressions neutral with a little smile. “I guess, yeah,” he nodded. He paused for a moment, wanting to say something else, but she beat him to it.

“If anything happens, you’ll stick up for me, won’t you?” she asked smilingly, “Since you’re my “boyfriend”.”

He felt his heart leap. That was the exact thing he wanted to assure her of, and it flattered him greatly to know that they had been thinking of the same thing. Even though he knew this was going to be a pretense, it rubbed his male instincts and ego right to be depended on for protection. 

He answered with a wide smile, “Of course, my love.”

“Why d’ye drive a manual?” asked Johnny as soon as he took the shotgun seat, watching ____ take her place in the driver's seat. 

“Tut tut,” she shook her head, bringing out a mini sombrero from her pocket which she placed on the gear stick, “It's Emmanuel.”

The three passengers in the back, from left to right– Simon, Lindsey, and Gaz, watched as Johnny burst out laughing, also making ____ laugh as she got the car started. 

“Ghosty, she's a woman of culture!” Johnny exclaimed, looking back at his best friend. 

Simon made no answer as he was upset that he couldn't sit next to ____. Lindsey felt similarly, but for Johnny. Regardless of that, the drive began with gusto, with Johnny and Gaz filling the time with their singing and jokes, while the other three listened. 

____ drove for the first hour, and Johnny took over for the second and the two switched seats, exchanging jokes and quips with ease, making both Simon and Lindsey at the back miserable and jealous. Simon drove for fifteen minutes in the third hour until he nearly hit a tree, but swerved back to the road right on time to avoid damaging both the car and his crush's esteem. Gaz took over for the remaining forty-five minutes, and Simon was banished to the back seat. 

Thankfully for him, ____ sat next to him to console him, “Don't worry. After all, you did say that if you tried really hard, you wouldn't hit a tree. You did great for fifteen minutes at least!”

Simon chuckled out of embarrassment. It didn't make him feel any better, but he appreciated her effort. 

The camping spot was soon in sight. It was around ten in the morning when Gaz parked the car in the shed of a little cabin. The ladies learnt that the spot belonged to one of Gaz's relatives, who was happy to lend it out to anyone who needed it. And from how the three men scampered around the place relaxedly, it was evident that they were regular visitors. 

The fenced piece of land was right next to a little lake which afforded a view of the distant green hills speckled with heathers and daisies. A lonely little dock hung over the surface of the water, which, as Simon informed the ladies, “made a nice fishing spot”.

The group first decided to begin their hike as planned before unloading the car. England's weather was notorious for being fickle and since the skies were currently clear of all rain clouds, the hike was chosen as the first activity. 

The trail was an easy one, chosen for the benefit of the ladies who were partially accustomed to walking on rocky, uneven terrain. The end of it promised a little waterfall, which Johnny was excited about showing them, as was evident in his constant singing of sea shanties while they hiked. Gaz happily joined him, while the ladies and Simon chose to be their audience like earlier. 

“Johnny sure loves to sing,” observed ____, who trudged between Lindsey and Simon. 

“He's a born singer,” replied Simon with a sigh, sounding both proud of and annoyed with his friend, “And he was a theater kid too. Acted in tons of musicals and plays, mostly musicals. Put him together with Gaz and they'll be singing and dancing all day.”

She chuckled. “How long have you guys known each other?” 

“Johnny's my childhood friend. We've known each other since we were ten years old. As for Gaz, both of us met him in university and we quickly became friends,” he explained, kicking a rock out of the way. 

The two ladies looked at each other. “That's a long time,” remarked Lindsey, “You all must be really close then.” 

“Too close,” Simon said dryly, but there was a hint of affection in his voice. He then turned to the ladies to ask, “And what about you two? How long have you been friends?” 

“Since high school,” ____ answered, smilingly linking her arm with Lindsey's, “She's basically my sister now.” 

Simon smiled. He could tell, for the moment he saw them together, they stuck to each other like glue and didn't leave each other's side for more than a few moments. 

Johnny looked back at the calm trio behind him and Gaz. “Jolene!” He called Lindsey by her nickname. When he had her attention, he beckoned her to join him in singing. 

“I don't know any of the songs you're singing!” she protested. 

“Dinnae ye worry, wee lassie!” he retraced his steps, put an arm around her shoulders, and dragged her ahead with him, making her squeal and stumble. “Gaz and I will teach you!” he promised, and kept his arm around her as they hiked up the hillock. 

While the two men busied themselves in teaching Lindsey to sing ‘Bully in the Alley’, ____ and Simon were left to themselves. The lady smiled at Lindsey's attempts to sing, though she was no singer. 

“Lindsey hates singing,” she whispered to Simon, “It's crazy how she's doing it for Johnny.” A girlish giggle escaped her lips at the thought of a romance blooming between the two. Her authorly brain couldn't help but conjecture all the sweet moments they would have, worthy of a novel of its own. 

“And I'll tell you what, Johnny's never been this fixated on one woman for this long either. He's normally a huge flirt, a ladies’ man, if you will. I'm just as surprised as you are,” answered Simon. 

The mention of Johnny being a flirt worried her. She knew Lindsey to almost easily give her affections to anyone who would look her way, starved for love as she was. But she decided to stay out of the way and watch the two for now. If Johnny ever did anything that would hurt Lindsey, she would not hesitate to confront him. 

The hike was now proving to get a little tiring, and ____ let out a sigh as she paused to catch her breath and drink some water. Simon stopped too, looking down at her from the slightly steep ascent. 

“Are you tired?” he asked. 

“A little, yeah.” 

He bent his knee and lowered himself slightly, holding out his hand. “Come on,” he encouraged, “Just a little more and we'll be at the waterfall.” 

She took his outstretched hand, and no sooner they made contact, a jolt of electricity ran down both their spines. Simon gulped harshly at this reaction, and she felt an additional tingle in her stomach. His larger, more rugged hand held her softer and smaller hand in his, and he pulled her up the ascent with ease. She thanked him as soon as they were next to each other, Simon, eager to be of further assistance, held out his arm to her. 

“You can hold my arm if you want to,” he offered, trying to sound as casual as he could, though his thoughts begged her to give him the honour of accepting him. 

Her hand practically flew to his arm in an instant, wrapping just below his bicep. Simon never felt more depended upon than now as the two began walking together. And she was completely flattered by his kind offer, trying to suppress her smiles and blushes. The two were, without doubt, over the moon. 

The lady was sure to make mental notes about everything Simon did. Frederick would be tall and brooding, but a kind-hearted and observant gentleman with a soft spot for Adelheid.

“This reminds me of the Jane Austen novels where the men would offer their arms to the ladies when they got tired as they walked,” she commented with a bright smile and a certain twinkle in her eye as she moved closer to him, allowing her hand to curl tighter against his arm. 

He noted the expression on her face and the movement and instinctively flexed his bicep so that she could feel it. He smiled in response to her comment and said with a chuckle, his cheeks overspread with a light pink, “So it was a custom back then? Interesting.” He hadn't read a lot of Regency era novels to know of past English social customs, but he seemed intrigued by this one aspect that she mentioned. Wanting to know if she really approved of it, asked, “Do you like it?” 

She loved it, but for the sake of being mild, said, “I think it's nice, especially now when I don't see men doing this sort of thing.”

“So you like gentlemen then?” 

She giggled. “A lot.” 

Simon took note of this immediately. If she liked a gentleman, a gentleman he would be. If men of his day didn't do the things he did, like offering their arm, or pulling out the chair for her at a table, he most certainly would do it, for he didn't want to be like other men. He wanted to be special and singled out by her. 

They began descending down a slightly slippery, gravelly path that led to the waterfall, and Simon took hold of her upper arm this time as he led her down so that she wouldn’t fall in case she slipped over the loose gravel. He was reminded yet again of how much smaller she was compared to him, and it only heightened his desire to keep her safe. 

The gurgle and rush of water from the distant waterfall was soon heard, and a few meters of walking on level ground finally brought them to the waterbody familiar to the men. Johnny cheered like he never saw a waterfall before, loud enough for his voice to echo in the wilderness, and for Lindsey to cover her ears and curse under her breath.

“We're here!”

End of Part 8.

Part 9 coming soon :)

Like always, leave a comment if you want to be added to my taglist!

[your-local-simp-writers]

Since request are open would it be to much to ask for a ghost x reader? Also since theirs two of you who runs the account who’s older? I get this might be a bit odd to answer lol but what’s y’all’s schedules like? Just to get a general idea of how much time you both spend writing, sorry if that sounds kinda rude 😅 I’m just really curious

Hello! 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 here, that's actually not a strange question at all—I'm older, to give you the main rundown. Regarding our schedules, we would rather to keep them largely confidential, but they can be described as hectic and full. If you haven't gotten to know who we are don't be shy here is our "༺☆༻ Introduction ༺☆༻"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Quiet Valor

Word Count: 431

Warnings: None

Ghost x Fem! Wife! Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

After a grueling day of tactical operations and close calls, Ghost finally returned to the safe house. His mask, a symbol of stoicism, hid the weariness in his eyes, but you knew him better than anyone else. You could see past the facade to the man beneath.

Ghost’s footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as he made his way to the living room, where you sat curled up on the couch, a book in hand. You looked up, your eyes meeting his, and in that instant, the mask wasn’t just a physical barrier—it was a symbol of the distance he often put between himself and the world.

But with you, he didn’t need the mask. You saw him, not just the soldier, but the man with hopes, fears, and dreams. The man who loved the sound of rain against the windowpanes and the quiet moments just before dawn.

As he sat down beside you, the tension in his shoulders began to ease. You set aside your book, turning to face him fully. You greeted him with a warm smile, the kind that always seemed to reach right into his soul. “Rough day love?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

Ghost just nodded, the weight of the day’s events etched into the lines of his body. He was like a tightly coiled spring, wound up with tension and stress. “It was… intense,” he admitted, the words heavy with unspoken stories.

Without a word, you scooted closer, reaching up to gently tug at the edge of his mask. He didn’t stop you as you slowly lifted it, revealing the stubble-lined jaw and the faintest hint of a smile at your boldness.

“I think you need a bit of… distraction,” you said, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Before he could respond, you launched into an exaggerated retelling of the neighbor’s cat’s latest escapade, complete with wild hand gestures and dramatic pauses. Ghost couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound muffled but genuine.

“And then,” you paused for effect, “the little furball actually—”  you paused, leaning in close, your breath tickling his ear. In a swift motion, you pressed your lips to his cheek, cutting off your own story. Ghost’s laughter broke free, a rare and heartwarming sound.

“You’re impossible,” he said, but the warmth in his voice told you he wouldn’t have it any other way.

For the rest of the evening, you kept up your antics, each silly joke and surprise kiss peeling away the layers of his stress, revealing the man who could still find joy in the little things, thanks to you.

[ohmygraves]

after one of your leave, you came back to work with a ring around your finger.

you didn't mention it to anyone, and people simply noticed it when talking to you or handing you things. they congratulated you, talking about the ring. you nervously brushed it off, trying to explain it.

ghost didn't know about it either, and when he overheard someone talking about it, he dropped his mug of tea on the floor, the pieces scattering around the place.

this was such a shock to someone who had planned to propose to you.

well, propose might be a bit too far, considering you two are not even dating. he wanted to say it, but things were a little too hectic and he didn't have the guts to ask you out and moreover you're not sure if you'd like him... even if you two have been friends in the taskforce for years.

then again, in his mind, you two are practically an old married couple.

he was clearly upset by this, ignoring you and trying to push you away. he was undoubtedly hurt. did you elope with someone? why didn't you tell him? invite him to the party? did your "friendship" with him mean nothing at all?

ghost was snappy, in a terrible mood overall. he snaps at johnny, yells at gaz, and even glares at price. he was constantly on edge and it's starting to piss you off. so you confront him.

"what the hell's up with you?"

he didn't feel like humoring you, sitting down all irritated over his meal instead.

"you've been avoiding me all week, snapping at people... did i do something wrong?"

so he went off at you.

"wanna know what's wrong? you. coming back to base with a bloody ring. let me guess, you eloped with someone? is that it?" he hissed, "and here i thought i'd propose, that's out of the fuckin' window now."

you sat there, taking his words in. "... it's a fidget ring?"

you showed your hand to him, using your fingers to spin the little parts of your ring. he didn't realize how you've been fidgeting with it, or how you explained to people over and over that you're not married or engaged.

all of the sudden ghost felt like his blood ran cold, not only because he just acted so stupid jealous over a trinket, he basically admitted that he wanted to marry you.

"... wait, you wanted to propose to me?"

[peppermint-toads]

thinking about simon christmas shopping for you at sephora.

he went into your shared bathroom before he left, going through your skincare/haircare to see what brands you like so he didn’t have to ask you.

he didn’t know what a summer friday was or why you needed so much of it, but he didn’t mind. he certainly didn’t mind spending the money. his military salary was far too much to keep to himself.

in fact, he loved to spoil you.

and he definitely wasn’t embarrassed going into sephora by himself. admittedly though, it was unfamiliar territory.

“uh, charlotte tilbury?” he grumbled, taking the salesgirl a little by surprise.

she led him to the display, swinging her hips on the way.

“is it for your mom?” she asked, batting her eyes up at him.

“wife, actually.” she visibly sunk, leaving him to pick out essentially one of each product on the shelves. he even went as far as to swatch a couple things when he wasn’t quite sure what your shade would be.

and no, you weren’t his wife. yet. but that was another christmas gift he’d planned for this year.

simon had no problem spending upwards of one thousand dollars on makeup and skincare for you. didn’t even flinch. he just tapped his card and gave the cashier a satisfied smile.

[sgtgarricks]

simon riley isn’t the biggest pet person. he’s on deployment a lot, so he doesn’t think he’d be a good pet parent. he’s also not too keen on getting slobbered on.

you, on the other hand, are a proud owner of three chunky cats. you’ve had them for years now and can’t imagine your life without them. on one of your dates, you had asked simon if he was a cat person or a dog person.

he said he doesn’t really like pets.

you contemplated ending things there, but you really liked him and you hoped your cats were adorable enough to change his mind. the moment he stepped foot in your apartment, he was immediately bombarded by your furry babies. you don’t know what you expected, but you didn’t expect him to freeze up, trying not to move as your cats smelled and licked at his fingers.

fast forward a year later, simon has become a constant in your life. when he’s not in the field, he’s at your place lounging around. he has a key since he’s there so often anyways.

after one rainy, shitty day at work, all you wanted to do was lay under the blankets and cuddle up to your man. when you open the door to your bedroom, you’re greeted with a sight that warms your heart.

he may not have chosen to be a cat parent, but your cats seem to have chosen him <3

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Simon Riley is a Messy Eater

TW: 18+, Smut, Fem! Reader

He's sloppy and all-consuming when he eats you out, making obscene sounds as he drinks your juices, tongue slithering between your folds while his nose bumps your clit, sending electricity bolting through you. He's unrelenting in his pace, rabid in his need to have you crying beneath his touch.

When your back arches against his face, begging to take him deeper, he presses you back down onto the mattress with a large, calloused hand.

"Easy, Sweetness," he says, panting. He licks a glob of your juice from the corner of his lip. The bottom half of his face glistens with your essence, his hair slicked back with sweat, and his eyes are dark with promise. The sight is enough to make you clench around nothing. His gaze flicks down to your tightening lips. He purrs.

"We can do this all night."

[sketchyfandomgirl]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Simon "Ghost" Riley and Your New Cat 🌷

simon having beef with a stray cat you brought home silly little idea i had no content warnings, just cute fluff, female reader :3 not proofread!

"What the hell is tha’?" he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared in disbelief at the little black kitten in your lap.

"I found him. He’s called Lettuce," you grin, cuddling the cat to your chest. You’re well aware that lettuce is a stupid name for a cat, but it just seemed right at the time. The kitten was tiny, and had seemed very weak when you’d discovered him shivering in a box outside your apartment block. Now, he seemed a lot more comfortable, making a little home for himself on your sweater. He was so small - he literally fit in the palm of your hand - but his frizzy black hair stuck out at every angle so that he looked less like a kitten and more like a wiry pompom.

"Love," Simon laughed, rubbing his face with a sigh, "Lettuce looks like a flea. Where the hell di’you find ‘im?"

"Oi, he does not! Well, maybe a bit. I found him in a box. He was meowing at me, he looked so cold…" you stroke the kitten’s cheek with your thumb as you he meows up at you.

"You can’t keep him, he might have diseases. You should give him to a pet shelter." Your boyfriend wasn’t being harsh, he was just worried about you - he didn’t want your little heart breaking because you’d got all attached to a poorly little kitten who might not last the week. But it didn’t come off like that.

"Wh… what..?" you frown, cupping the kitty in your hands to protect it.

"I’ll drive you to the shelter tomorrow, okay?"

"What? Si, no!"

"Baby…" he sighs, trying not to upset you "you can’t just find a scruffy animal on the street and take it home."

"S’what I did with you ," you pout, pulling the same face at him as Vegetable pulls at your sweater sleeve as he paws at it.

"Look," he crosses his arms, about to explain to you the reasons why you two don’t have the space for a cat, nor the prior knowledge. What if the cat walks in on the two of you in bed? What if it bites you and his pretty girl gets hurt? What if you end up loving the cat more than Simon and it steals you away? But your pleading eyes and the tiny, stupid looking kitten chirping in your laps convinces him. If you really wanted anything, you know he’d get it for you, so he’ll let you have your silly kitten.

"Alright, fine. For now." He laughs, ruffling his hair.

"I love you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I love you!" you squeal, gently placing the cat down before jumping up with and wrapping your arms around your boyfriend. He rubs your back softly, watching the stupid fluffy ball on the sofa chirp for your attention. Just because he’s letting you have the cat doesn’t mean he won’t see it as his mortal enemy.

The next morning, after having gone out to buy cat food for you, Simon is sitting on the sofa, softly kissing your neck from behind. You’re sitting in his lap… completely ignoring his affection in favour of the kitty.

"Si, look! He can walk!" you grin, holding the kitten up so it looks like it’s standing on two feet.

"Mhm… cute…" Simon mumbles into the nape of your next, a strong hand wrapping around your waist to pull you into his chest. He is not watching the cat, he’s busy with you.

"I know right!" you ignore his advances still, gazing at your new pet with adoration, "I should make him a little hat, he’d look so sweet."

"Yeah, fuck, you’re so sweet…" Si keeps kissing you, moving between your neck and your shoulders, which are hidden inside his old tshirt.

"He’s so cute," you grin, stroking the back of the kitten’s head until it purrs, "I love him so much… he’s my baby."

That catches Simon off guard. He would never admit it to anyone, but he loves it when you call him your baby. He’s the only one you should be calling baby. This cat is stealing his girl. [gasp]

Si shoots the kitten a death stare.

"Oh yeah, he’s your baby?"

"Yeah, he’s the cutest…"

"Mhm. I’m sure," he pouts. When you’re not looking, he glares at the cat and points from his grey eyes to its little beady ones, like he’s trying to intimidate it.

A few days later, the two of you fall asleep together, with Simon spooning you and holding you close. But you forgot to shut the door. So your boyfriend is rudely awakened by a very small, scruffy kitten stomping on his chest.

"No, oi, get off of me," you can hear him grumbling sleepily as you start to stir, alongside the cute chirping of your kitty.

"Listen, Vegeta- cat. Stupid name anyways. We can’t have you disturbing the Mrs, alright?"

You can hear him pause until he hears the kitten meow softly in response.

"Tha’s right, soldier. She’s my Mrs, not yours, and if you so much as try to change that, I will never let you see her again. My girl. Mine," he pouts.

The kitten meows again, as if he’s responding to Simon’s orders. You have to try your hardest not to giggle, biting your lip in the dark as you listen to your big, tough boyfriend have an argument with a little kitten.

"Alright, now leave the lady alone." You almost think you can hear him plant a kiss on the cat’s head before he sets it down at the side of the bed.

You’re away for the weekend, visiting family, without your boys (Simon and the kitten). :(

Simon’s fine, he’s a tough guy, he has no issue being alone - that is, until he’s poorly and he needs you to cuddle him and make him tea. But you’re not there, and talking to you over the phone only makes him feel worse.

So he resorts to laying in bed, in the shade, trying to nap. Poor boy feels too ill to do anything else (he has the man flu).

With the back of his hand over his forehead, one leg over the covers and one leg under, not quite sure whether he’s awake or asleep, he closes his eyes and frowns. A little black ball hops up onto his bed, waking him up a little.

It plods around in a little circle, looking around and exploring its new environment. When Veggie spots Simon, he waddles over curiously, his little feet sinking into the soft duvet cover.

"Hey, cat," Simon smiles softly, watching the fluffy baby wander and get closer to his face. It looks up into his eyes, chirping, and brushes its fur against his cheek before settling into the crook of his neck.

He chuckles, closing his eyes as the tiny guy curls into a ball against him. The rivalry isn’t quite over for Simon, but that funny looking kitty is a little piece of you, and he’s happy to have its affection.

When you come home, it’s to the two of them, cuddled up on your bed. Silently, you change into a t-shirt and slip into bed behind Simon, planting a little kiss on his cheek.

"Told you he was cute."

how i imagine your kitten 💗

i spent way longer on this than i thought i would but it’s so cute and i loved writing it! hope you enjoy lovieeees

[undercoverpena]

can you imagine meeting ghost off-duty. no mask—just a regular man, in a bar close to where you’ve just moved. the two of you begin talking, don’t swap anything about the other, no work talk, just one weekend—one night, really. all nail scratching, teeth digging down into his shoulder to stop your new neighbours complaining. then he leaves, enjoys one mug of tea before his boots are on and he kisses your cheek goodbye.

you don’t think about him.

not outside of the ache he’s left between your legs and the marks that’ll take time to heal. you stuff it into a basket in your mind as you begin packing your bag, heading to the place where you’ll be meeting a new team—become the latest recruit to something more off the record, than on.

you’re sized up, and you size them up back. don’t linger on the pair of eyes behind a balaclava that digs into you with more venom than gratitude. you exchange no words outside of the necessary, completely keeping yourself to yourself where you can—not wanting to miss out on this, an opportunity not handed so often.

so it isn’t until you’re back from the desert, removing sand from wherever it has tried to find a home, that you see your Lt hovering in the doorway. sliding the fabric up, exposing a pair of lips that make you frown, before he speaks.

and his tone isn’t gruff, isn’t as low or as formal as you’ve heard through the radio. if anything, it’s reminiscent of a voice from weeks ago, one buried into your ear, one burned and soldered to your skin as you took and you took and you took.

you get confirmation it’s him when he makes a comment, one that makes you ice cold and full of fire all at once. before now, you’d never thought that “nice work out there” would have the same effect on you as “you can take it”.

sorry, not sorry to @ghostaholics who I woke up with this thought hahahah.

[nrdmssgs]

Kissing Ghost on the forehead

Masterlist Kissing König on the forehead Kissing Price on the forehead

Simon tried to protect you from Ghost, he really did. It was not that Ghost would hurt you in any way, no. And of course, it was not a disease or mental disorder of any kind - it's a coping mechanism. But once the mask was on - Ghost appeared softly and silently. And Ghost could do things, that Simon couldn't. Things, he wouldn't ever want you to witness.

He never made a huge mystery of his work - he just didn't give away too many details. Simon didn't even hide his masks - he just asked you to not touch him, when he's wearing one of them.

"It's dusty, I wouldn't want your hands to get dirty." When in reality, he wouldn't want your entire being to get corrupted.

Ghost was to be kept out of your house and Simon made sure, you never saw each other. Little did he know, you had your ways not only around people, but around symbols as well.

His last day at home was coming to an end: in the morning he had to leave for a long deployment. Simon packed his things, leaving the mask atop of his open bag.

The rays of the setting sun painted the rooms with large windows in shades of red and gold. He absorbed every moment, breathed in and tried to remember barely distinguishable smells and sounds that filled your house, walked aimlessly through the rooms when he saw this. You sat on the edge of your bed, next to his bag, holding his mask in front of you. Your eyes were screwed shut as you pressed your forehead against the cracked, grayish surface of the mask. It was as if Ghost was kneeling in front of you, letting you touch his forehead with yours. Simon froze, part of him wanted to end this scene right there, but he hesitated, not wanting to scare you.

You slowly opened your eyes and looked deep into the empty holes in the mask. Your lips parted and you spoke almost inaudibly.

"Protect him and bring him back to me alive."

Simons' heart skipped a beat, when he understood, you were speaking not to him, but to the Ghost behind his mask.

And then, when he thought, this strange conversation was over - you brought the mask to your lips and kissed its forehead. Simon was standing in good 10–15 meters from you, but he could swear, he almost felt your soft and tender touch. Anything he ever knew, anything both he and Ghost were capable of, crumbled and slowly disappeared before your wish. Anything, that still kept meaning both to Simon and Ghost from this very moment, was that wish.

"Bring him back alive."

[saturncodedstarlette]

God!Ghost : I’m craving something sweet

Y/N : *eagerly points to self*

God!Ghost : I said sweet, not spicy right now, little bird

Y/N : . . .

Y/N : Heyy you told me I tasted like honey last night :(

God!Ghost : NO I don’t mean it like that-

[diejager]

Hiii I wanted to know if you could do a ghost x hybrid!bunny reader?

Where she’s unaware she’s going through her heat cycle (her first) an she’s giving off a dandrufflike sex pollen, so she goes around the base trying to find him. The recuites are following her like dogs an eventually when he finds her (cause she got lost) he realizes that’s what’s going on and helps her out with her problems ☺️

And honestly if you could do anything with ghost x hybrid!bunny reader I would love love looove it 💗💗

Thank you so much for writing! 💗🐰

Bunny

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Bunny Hybrid! Reader

Cw: non-con drugging (unintentional really), sex pollen, heat cycles, bunny hybrid reader, Wc: 1.4k

Fun Fact! Bunny was originally and still is a British term of endearment for girls and young women.

For someone who’d joined Price’s TF for months now, you still couldn’t find your way through these winding halls and sharp corners that made the British base. It was like a maze to your twitching nose and droopy ears, always sending you down the wrong hallway or turning the wrong corner simply because they looked identical, and there wasn’t a plan for the whole base. You’d know, you had asked Price for one after getting lost trying to find the Mess Hall and having the fortune of stumbling into Gaz after wandering the halls of your temporary base.

You, once more, got lost on your way to the gym, the last place you had to search to find Ghost. You had searched the armoury, jumping between soldiers (mostly recruits who’d been sent to your base to train. Most sergeants and higher-ranked soldiers were given their small batch to overwatch.) while looking for your lieutenant, ignoring the dark stares the recruits sent your way. Their pupils dilated and face flushed when you walked past them, bumped shoulders and talked to them. 

While your search for Ghost in the armoury had been fruitless, the other - as equally flushed as the recruits when you spoke to them - sergeants and corporals about him, they advised you to look for the gym and training grounds, knowing the lieutenant would be there if he wasn’t in his room, his office or the armoury. With a grateful nod, you skipped down the corridor, having randomly chosen a path while completely lost. In your small, dazed mind, body heat skyrocketing, skin perspiring and cheeks flushed, you were oblivious to the longing stares people gave you when you walked past them and the number of recruits that had followed you.

They marched in synchronisation metres behind you, acting like a single-celled organism composed of many that followed its prey or another of their kind. Their hands were clammy, their skin heated to a burning red on their ears and cheeks, their hairline stuck to their skin, and their eyes were wide like lost puppies following a treat. 

You lost your way, having to stop and catch someone for directions. Coincidentally, a fellow operator was heading towards the training area, having to meet a teammate for their next briefing. She led you down a familiar hall (was it? Every wall looked the same to you, every spot and crack looked the same on every wall, it had your head spinning in every direction. You were still confused as to why others easily found their way around the whole base.) and pointed out some rooms for you to use as checkpoints when you travelled these halls alone. You thanked her profusely when you found the wide doors to the area you were trying to reach, grasping her hand and giving her a sweet smile, ears flopping at your optimistic movement.

When you reached for the door, you peeked your head through the door, squeezing out when you saw how crowded it was. Ghost preferred solitude and quietness, such a busy and filled room would be a nightmare for a reserved man. He dreaded interacting with people unless he had to (or unless you were part of his loving Task Force 141). Your scent streamed into a wide area, urging heads to turn your way, glazed eyes landing on your head, nose twitching and ears framing your face. They fleeted the room when you left, head tilted towards your scent, ripe and sweet.

You turned to look for the gym, remembering that it was on the other wall, the words gym displayed in bold letters on the door’s sign. You smiled giddily, practically jumping towards it, knowing it was the last place you had to look at. You found him the second you pushed past the door, his broad back standing out around smaller figures around the room even if he seemed to curl into himself on his place on the bench. You went straight his way, the soles of your boots thumping on the slick, shiny floor. It gave you away to the lieutenant who’d heard you walk towards him.

“Ghost,” you smiled, stopping beside his turned body, his sinfully slim hips twisting his skin-tight shirt that stuck to his abdomen like a second skin. “I was searching for you, L.T.”

He muddled silently at you, dark chocolate eyes wandering over your body, over your plush thighs, your round hips, your small stomach, your pressed breast, your naked collar and your face. He flickered to the men that filed in after you, a group of hungry, happy trigger recruits after someone way higher than them. He reeled in the need to growl, watching the way their eyes craved you, fucking you in their mind in every position possible. 

Then his eyes rolled back to you, seeing your flushed cheeks, dilated pupils and sweet grin. The scent that fell from your body was downright delirious, a sickeningly sweet musk that rolled off your body in waves of thin particles of your scent. The stare in your eyes was dazed, dream-like in the way that you gazed at him. It riled him, made him hungry and predatory. 

”You’re in heat, bunny,” he greeted back, voice coming out deeper and raspier than he intended, the low vibration in his chest appearing by itself from his restrained hunger.

He couldn’t fault the recruits that followed you like lost, hungry pups. You were delicious in the haze of your heat (the first one you’ve ever had, he thought. You’d spoken to him once about never having felt the full brunt of heat, they were supposedly painful and made the hybrid needy from what he’d learned. That scared you.), your scent enveloping you in a cocoon of arousing odour, pheromones that attracted males of your kind of human males to satiate your needs.

He couldn't, doesn't mean he wouldn’t because he would. He was faulting them for staring at you so shamelessly, eyes hungering for you. He wasn’t a perfect man, he was far from it, he was the worst kind to be deemed a perfect model. He was imposing, dominating, possessive and deadly, he was a ghost, the dead that came back alive, having no name or face to call his own. Just like the recruits, he wanted you, to take you for himself in the privacy of his dark room. He wanted to bite into those, soft, fluffy ears of yours, always drooping around your face, but never restraining you in combat (you fared surprisingly well, nearly as merciless as him, in combat, tearing down men twice your size with a knife if needed. You were ruthless to your enemy or those that aimed to hurt your little TF.). He wanted to make you cry, to grab your round tail and yank on it until you begged him to stop. He wanted to bite into the scarless skin of your neck, a perfect place for his mark. 

Bunnies liked marks, no? They loved affection and being taken care of, didn’t they? Although you were a hybrid - mostly human with some bunny genetics in your body - you still had some rabbit-like behaviours. He’d seen how you preferred veggies over meat, though you did eat meat on occasion to keep up with the growth of your muscles. He’d seen how you liked soft and smooth things, you had many blankets and personal items you were gifted or bought. He knew you liked jumping and scouting, a bunny's natural curiousity made it peek from beneath the tall grass at things that caught its attention. 

He, however, hasn’t seen how you act in the throes of painful heat, would you submit to a needy, aroused bunny that would ask anything of him; or would you jump him and demand attention, using him as you like. He stopped himself from wandering down that dark path, or at least for now until he got both you and him to his room for privacy. 

“C’mon bunny, let’s go,” he stood up, bag slung over his shoulder while his other hand rested on your lower back, the dip of your vertebrae and the start of your jerking tail. 

He glared at the cowering recruits as he moved between them, they has separated to form a path for you and Ghost. Black-painted skin, dark eyes and a skull-drawn balaclava made them flee, tails tucked between their legs. He held you closer to him, your hip flush to his as he led you to his quarters. That would teach them who you belonged to (perhaps you would show them who he belonged to).

[crimsonbubble]

cw. nsfw, gn!reader, gear kink (?), vague strength kink, implied overstimulation, sex against a wall, creampie *not proofread, just pure horny

[ive been seeing so many edits of masked military men on my tiktok fyp and it made me think of ghost...]

MINORS DNI!!

just being completely naked and having your back pressed into his chest while he still has all his gear on. he merely has his belt undone and his pants open enough to slip into you so easily.

and he's just ravaging you, right there against the wall. bucking his hips up so hard you can feel him in your stomach. like just being so good for him and letting him fuck out his frustrations. him not stopping even as you shudder and come undone around him.

trying to push him away to relieve your sore muscles and fluttering hole but he just pushes you harder into the wall and pulls your hips back into him even more. hearing him grunt and moan through his mask, feeling his thick and heavy cock throb and twitch inside you. just waiting to fill you up like you both know you want to and watch it spill down your thighs.

[ohmygraves]

once, you tried to hide from your husband simon.

it wasn't your first attempt, of course. he's very observant and would notice you missing if you were out of his sight for like five seconds. you two are basically joined to the hip, so it's really, really hard for you to just somehow disappear from his sight. you're thankful that somehow he didn't even set up security cameras for the house himself.

of course, that doesn't discourage you from pranking your husband.

simon was away on a deployment for a few months, and you have been planning all of this from start to finish. you've seen lots of tiktok and reels and whatever about seeing how long your spouse will go look for you if you went missing, and you're kind of curious as to how long it takes for him to go look for you. clearly, you weren't thinking that far ahead.

you went and set up cameras yourself, since it's high time that you need to install one anyway. you told simon before he left, he completely trusted you to deal with it. he's most likely going to check everything when he comes back anyway, making sure that you did everything properly. but that's how you find yourself sitting impatiently, waiting for him to pull over the driveway of your shared home.

after setting everything up, you make sure that the cameras are working around the house. one by the front door, one in each room (except the bathroom), one in the garage and overseeing the driveway, and one facing the backyard.

this was flawless. this was amazing. he's going to laugh and find you in five seconds as usual.

you quickly hide yourself in the closet after you hear him pull over, making sure to keep your voice as low as possible. you giggled as you saw him call for you as he walked into the house through the security camera. but you weren't ready to see what happened next.

simon kept calling for you, looking around nervously as he couldn't find you. he dropped his duffel bag on the floor, kicking his boots off in a rush as he looked everywhere for you, getting increasingly agitated and anxious since you didn't respond. you can clearly see how panicked he was, how scared he is. his voice cracks as you could hear him pass from room to room, his hands flipping through your entire house to find you.

seeing how panicked he was, you felt really bad.

you quickly leave your hiding spot, calling out to simon. he was holding a knife in his hand, a panicked look on his eyes as he turns to you, eyes blown wide. his breathing is irregular.

"simon! i'm sorry! i was hiding and—"

you couldn't even finish your sentence before he hugged you, dropping his knife as he held you close to him. his body shook silently as he pressed you against his chest, not wanting to let go. you could feel his heart beating fast, his fingers trembling against the small of your back. you could feel wetness dropping against your skin, but you're too scared to say it out loud.

"... don't do that again..."

"i'm sorry, simon..."

he didn't say anything, simply holding you tighter in his arms. he wouldn't leave you alone for a few days afterwards. you're sure he's still mad at you after what you did, but he didn't say anything, too busy holding you close to him hoping that somehow he could glue the two of you together so you wouldn't wander off.

you learned that you probably shouldn't try and scare him like that again.

[peppermint-toads]

simon had easily conquered sephora. light work. aritzia was an entirely different demon.

he didn’t know why he felt like he was in competition with the other men lounging on the ‘boyfriend couch’ in the fitting room area.

all he knew was he was puffing his chest out as far as he possibly could and spreading his legs as wide as they could go without tearing his balls in two.

he also didn’t love that there were no private mirrors in each fitting room, that you had to come out and parade yourself in front of everybody just to see how the clothes fit.

and simon wasn’t insecure by any means, just protective.

it must’ve been a good day for you because each outfit you came out in was fitting you in all the right places, and simon knew it!

you returned to your fitting room after showing off one particular dress for him, and it was his last straw.

see, he also wasn’t particularly a fan of the whole curtain situation. all this frilly decor and they couldn’t afford to install some good, sturdy doors?

simon took to relocating himself right outside of your room, making sure each end of the curtain was touching wall to wall so there was absolutely no peeking.

you were too busy pulling on a pair of jeans to even notice his new position. when you ripped the curtain open to show him you yelped.

“simon! you scared me, jeez—”

you waited for him to budge but he wouldn’t move.

“si, i have to see how these fit.”

he still didn’t move, staring down at you with crossed arms.

“how ‘bout i tell you if they fit or not.”

he manhandled you to spin around so he could see the back.

“mhm, these ones look good.”

you’re just glad he didn’t take the time to notice the $200 price tag.