#simon ghost riley call of duty

[konigs-left-pec]

PostMission!Ghost is hard the second his feet hit the tarmac, brain swimming in a potent cocktail of adrenaline and testosterone from the fight. He follows you to the hangar with the rest of the team, throat tight and dry as he can't seem to stop staring, hypnotized by your ass and the sway of your hips.

He is practically on said ass the second you head into the unisex bathroom; locking the door and crowding you against the sink. He's still fully geared, can't even pull his tac pants down fast enough, catching on his holsters. You'd laugh at the absurdity of it if you weren't burning with the same desire that's taken him. He just barely gets free enough to let his cock out, so hard it's painful at this point. You aren't ready, but you don't care. The stretch burns, your hands fluttering helplessly on his shoulders as you're speared on his enormous length. His head is bowed, resting on your shoulder as he gasps brokenly into your ear like every thrust is agony.

Just like that...s'fuckin good f'me...

He's winding you up; the hunger in your belly coiling tighter and tighter with the way he's effectively biting at your neck, gloved hands clutching and pushing at your hips and ass demanding you meet his brutal pace. He's sucking in air through clenched teeth, praise pouring out past parted lips as his thrusts turn somehow even more erratic. He always comes hard and fast like this. You'd be upset if he didn't feel so damn good.

You're so close when he comes on a strangled groan, hips stuttering to a halt as he grinds into you as deeply as he can manage. He's panting while his head clears, cock still hard and flexing against that spot deep within you. Ghost fixes you with a boyish smile, brown eyes glazed over and warm like the flush coloring his cheeks as your eyes meet.

m'sorry, love. I couldn't help it.

The gloved hand not currently propping you against the sink presses suddenly against your lips, a coy invitation to bite. His smirk widened imperceptibly as he worked his hand free, sliding down between your bodies with practiced ease to circle your aching clit. He has you gasping wantonly into his mouth in record time, fingers clenched tight against his flak vest as your orgasm swells up like a tidal wave to decimate you, all while he's purring huskily into your ear with each sweet pulse...

Good girl.

[lethalchiralium]

“What are you doing?!”

Simon quirked an eyebrow at you, side-eyeing you as you stood in the bathroom doorway. He continued to use the trimmers on his thick beard, you watched in horror.

“I’m not tryin’ to give you beard burn on your cunt, love.”

You ignored that comment, though it did make your insides clench. “Mellie hasn’t seen you without a beard.”

“Yes, she has.” He moved his head down, looking back in the mirror to make sure it was even. “When I first got back.”

“She doesn’t remember that, Simon, she was too little. She is going to scream her head off.” You leaned your shoulder on the doorway, watching your husband’s expression stay stoic as he moved his mouth up and down to help cut down the beard.

He took only a few more moments to finish, leaving short stubble where it was once a lush beard. He wiped down the counter with his towel, cleaning up like he always did. “She’ll be fine. She knows her Dad.”

“Let me explain this to you,” You took a deep breath as your husband glared at you. “You’re little, you love your dad with every fiber of your being and you love holding onto his beard gently all day. You do it every day.” You folded your arms over your chest, examining his nonchalant expression until you stated, “And any slight change makes you scream or occasionally throw up. Like she did when Gaz shaved his head ‘cause Soap paid him to do it.”

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right, buddy.” You shook your head, laughing to yourself before you reached forwards, patting his shoulder. “I’m not handling that, you put that on yourself.”

“Y/N-“

You kissed his temple before turning away, “Good luck with the screaming baby!”

“If you help me, I’ll do the thing.”

You paused, back turned to your husband as your smile grew larger. “What thing?”

He grunted, can of shaving cream hitting the counter. “You know what thing.”

You dropped the smile, looking over your shoulder - your lower stomach tightening when you gazed at your husband’s deadpanned face. “Care to elaborate?”

His eyes narrowed, taking a breath before he seethed through gritted teeth, “If you handle Mellie when she sees me, I will tie you up when we fuck tonight.”

“Promise?”

His stare is enough to make you laugh.

“Deal, baby.”

[kib-ble]

tw: soft mentions of SA

“i got you.. i got you love, don’t worry. i’m bringing you home…” simon whispered, following price and gaz, soap behind him. he held you tight in his arms, your cold, unconscious body. your clothes ripped and bloody. simon could only imagine what they did to you to get information out of you.

soap could read his mind. he saw his worried eyes when they found you tied to a chair, you’re hair matted with blood. your blood. they all knew of the soft spot simon had for you. it was adorable, to say the least. he was protective and loving. he killed anyone in the way to get to you, anyone.

he held you tighter to his chest with any noise he heard. “you’re safe now, lovie. i promise.”

a small kiss landed on your forehead through his mask. it was the thought that counts.

no one in the 141 had the heart to tell him that you couldn’t hear his promises. no one had the heart to tell him that you aren’t going home with him. no one with a beating heart could tell him that yours wasn’t beating anymore..

[starry-eyedblog]

Request for a prnaddict!reader x ghost? You two just became pretty good friends, sharing things about yourselves. Simon shares his recent addiction to cigarettes when you just casually drop that you have a prnaddiction.

side note: Just left a function and its 2am. overheard this scenario unraveling in a balcony earlier. Am too tired to be horny so i left and now leaving this for u if you'd like to :3 goodniiiiiight~

oooo this is such a juicy idea!! also disclaimer, i ken that this probs wouldnae happen in the military where they restrict other soldiers on personal things like smoking but this is FICTION so i dinnae care :3

warnings/tags: simon x gn reader, smoking addictions, porn addiction, smut

it's a friday night, and the bar you are sat at is bustling with bodies. it was starting to get too much so you decided to step out for some air and a tipsy smoke. as you push the heavy door out, the nippy air sweeps in and instantly cools your flushed skin.

a soft sigh leaves you as you step around the corner and pull out your packet of cigs, sliding one out and holding it between your lips as you search for your lighter. once you feel it in your back pocket, you fish it out and spark it up. as the flame lights up your face, this is when you notice the mammoth of a man stood next to you, desperately trying to flicker his lighter to life.

he curses quietly and you look away, lighting up your own fag before silently passing over the lighter to him. he looks up, a black surgical mask hooked beneath his jawline and showing off a pretty gnarly scar across his face. "cheers, love." he grumbles, taking the lighter from you.

you nod silently with a soft smile before taking a long drag from your fag, holding the smoke in your lungs before slowly exhaling. you watch the smoke dance up into in the air for a moment before turning to the man next to you who's chuckling softly.

"like an angel sent from heaven, don't know what i would've done if i couldn't find a lighter." he mumbles as he brings the fag to his lips and inhales. you laugh quietly at his words, taking the lighter back from him.

"no big deal, glad to be of service." you joke with a smile, gently tapping the ash off your fag with your fingers. "i'd be the same if my vibe charger died." you mumble out, but the mysterious man hears you.

"that so?" he questions, and you blush as he turns to you with the fag hanging from his lips. "uh, uhm yeah. all got our own sin or poison, or whatever the saying is." you say, taking a long drag from the fag. he asks for your name, which you give him before asking the same.

once the two of you exchange names, you prompt him about his smoking. "so, addicted to nicotine huh?" you ask, watching him take a long drag from his fag. he nods silently, looking over at you as he slowly exhales the smoke.

"calms my mind and gives me something to do," he shrugs, watching the way you look away from his eyes. "and what about you? can't get enough of a wank?" simon teases and you snort.

"guess you could say that, is it a crime to love porn?" you question with a flushed face, unable to meet his eyes as the two of you smoke outside of the bar together and chat about your addictions.

simon looks back up at he night sky, staring at the bright stars before responding. "didn't say that love," he mumbles before continuing. "each to their own."

months down the line and the two of you are helping each other out - in reality you are only helping the other further aid their addictions.

simon is unable to bring fags now when he gets deployed as they pat him down and confiscate them. a mark now on his file from price to not let him smoke since he's been caught out on his addiction.

so to help, you'll send parcels with fag packets in bulk that he can hide in his room. he has a few secret smoking spots on base where he is sure to be alone and left like that for hours.

when he's back, you'll have him over and fuck him while watching porn together. he indulges in you, sometimes picks out videos that he likes and wants to show you which rots your brain even further.

oh and he fucks you so well, one of the best fuck buddies you've ever had. makes you cum multiple times before he's even got his cock stuffed into you. he likes to grab your jaw and force you to keep your eyes open while watching video after video.

it's a perfect little transaction almost that the both of you have, and no one bothers you about your addictions now. both of you realise that it's unhealthy and if others found out, they'd be disappointed but screw them.

[thefloorisbalaclava]

love on the brain [simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader]

▸pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader ▸words: 3,362 ▸warnings: illness, lovesick ghost, kissing, making out, simon makes up his own little game of hide and seek, the balaclava stays on ▸summary: simon doesn't do feelings... until he does.

▸a/n: i just wanna kiss him.

⋆masterlist⋆

Ghosts had secrets. Plenty of them. Hell, even his face was a secret. But there was one that he considered his deepest.

He was in love.

You would never guess it by looking at him; he had his mask to thank for that. His self-consciousness stopped him from saying many words to anyone outside of a mission. And just being around you made him feel like all the wrong words would come out.

He wasn’t much of a romantic and couldn’t even remember the last time he was in a relationship. What was he even supposed to say to you?

“Hey, Lt.” Your voice was like music to his ears.

“Evenin’,” he said gruffly.

“What are you doing out here in the rain?” you asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.” His palms were sweaty, and he was happy you couldn’t see them.

You shrugged. “I guess I just like the rain.”

“Yeah, so do I. Helps me clear my mind,” he said.

“Am I bothering you, sir?” you asked, worry filling your tone.

“Not at all. I’m actually surprised you found me.” There were all sorts of places he went to be alone, and no one knew about them.

No one except for you.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone else about your hiding place,” you said, and he believed you.

“How did you find me?” he asked.

“I have no idea. Maybe fate brought me here.” You looked out at the view in front of you. He looked at you, heart beating faster.

“Bollocks,” he scoffed. “You actually believe in that?”

“We gotta believe in something, sir.”

He hated that you called him sir. It reminded him that he was your superior and his feelings for you were beyond inappropriate.

“You can call me Simon, you know,” he said.

“Simon,” you said quietly, to hear how it rolled off your tongue. You smiled at him. “It’s a lovely name.”

“It’s not,” he said, “But thank you.”

“Do you ever let anyone compliment you?” you asked.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just…whenever I say something nice about you, you find a way to downplay it,” you said.

He felt like such an idiot. He was hurting you and didn’t even know it.

“I’m sorry. I’m not used to it,” he confessed. “I’m sorry if I…made you feel bad.”

“You didn’t. I do the same thing. I guess it’s my way of deflecting. Sometimes my self-esteem makes it hard for me to take a compliment.” Your smile began to fade, and Ghost couldn’t have that.

“We should get inside before we both get sick,” he said, and it seemed like he was ready to end the conversation.

“You’re right. You came here to be alone, and here I am bothering you….” you sighed.

“No! I mean…that’s not what I meant. You don’t have to go,” he said.

Please don’t go. Please don’t go. Please don’t go.

The smile was back on your face. “Okay then. What should we talk about?”

Simon was still thinking about that night even as he lay in bed with a fever, runny nose, and cough. He was able to convince himself to stay in bed and rest, which wasn’t easy for him.

He nearly groaned when he heard the knock on his door. He put his balaclava on quickly and walked to the door.

“This better be bloody important,” he said, swinging the door open.

“Hey, sir…I mean, Simon.” You looked up at him and noticed something was wrong right away.

“Y-You…what are you doing here?” he asked in a raspier voice than his usual one.

“You too, huh?” you asked, and he tilted his head. “Sick?”

“Yeah. What brings you here?”

“I…uh…you know what? I don’t even know. It’s like my feet just brought me here on their own.” You gave him a smile that broke through his tough exterior and wrapped around his heart.

“Dunno if you wanna come in here with me bein’ sick and all.”

“I’ll leave you to rest. I need to do the same myself. Lots of fluids, sir,” you told him.

“Simon,” he sighed.

“Sorry. Simon.” You stood there and looked at him for a while. “Feel better soon.”

“You too, love.” He closed his eyes and cursed inwardly at the slip-up. If you heard him, you didn’t make it known.

A few days later, Simon was back to his usual self, and you were trying to be. As he made his way to your room, he rehearsed precisely what he would say.

Isn’t all this supposed to come naturally? He thought. Yeah, when you’re not head over heels in love with the other person.

He knocked on your door and tried to stand as naturally as possible before you opened it.

Your face lit up as soon as you saw him. “Simon! Hey.” You rested your head against the door.

“How’re you feelin’?” he asked.

“Eh, could be better,” you admitted.

“Is there anything I can do?” He put his hands on either side of the doorframe and leaned in.

“You’re sweet, Lt. I’ll be fine, though.” You didn’t need this man doing anything else to make you fall even more in love with him.

“Oh…” He was disappointed, to say the least.

“Actually,” you started, and he stood up straight again. “Would you mind bringing me some tea? You’ve made some for me before, and it was fantastic.”

You like his tea.

You like his tea.

It was a silly thing to gush over, but he felt his face getting warm.

“I can do that for you,” he said. He turned and walked away.

“Hey, Simon!” you called out, and he turned to look at you. “Thanks.”

“What do you need two cups of tea for?” Soap asked. “Still not feelin’ well, Lt?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” he said. “This is for—” He froze, and a knowing smile spread over Johnny’s face.

“Ah, I see.” He smiled smugly.

Simon sighed and walked off. He hoped the tea would still be hot enough by the time he got to you.

You were dozing off when he knocked on your door. You stood excitedly and walked to the door to open it.

“Tea,” he offered, and you took a cup.

“I would ask you to come in, but I’m probably still contagious.”

“I’ll come in if you like. I don’t mind,” he told you, hoping you’d let him stay.

“Okay, come on in.” You closed the door behind him and hugged yourself as you walked over to the sofa and tried tidying it up.

“What are you doin’?” he asked.

“Cleaning up,” you said.

“You don’t have to do that. You’re not feeling well,” he pointed out.

“I know, but….”

“Don’t,” he said, nearly reaching out to touch your hand. “Sit and drink your tea.”

“Sir,” you said playfully before sitting down.

He stood in the middle of the room awkwardly. “How’s the tea?” he asked.

“It’s perfect. You make it?”

“I did, yeah.”

“You can sit down.” You pointed to one of the chairs. You doubted he wanted to sit on the same couch as you.

But he walked over slowly and sat beside you. You looked over at him and smiled.

“What?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to sit so close.”

“Why not?” he asked, turning to you.

“Well, no offense, but you like to be alone…you don’t seem to like getting too close to anyone,” you said. You hoped you hadn’t said too much or overstepped a boundary.

“I don’t,” he started, “But I make exceptions now and again.”

“And I’m an exception? Wow, I feel special,” you said before taking another sip of tea.

“You are special,” he said. He took a sip of his tea casually. “Look, I have to tell you something, and I don’t want you to say anything until I finish. Just listen.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“When I say you’re special, I mean it. I…feel something whenever I …look at you. To be honest, I’m not sure how to manage this,” he confessed. “I want to protect you; I don’t want anything or anyone to hurt you…ever.” He looked at you when he said that.

“Simon…”

“Not done. I think I’m in love with you, and I’m not quite sure what to do about it,” he finished. “You can say something now.”

“In love?” you asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah. Is that…bad?” he wondered.

“Why would it be bad, Simon?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know anything about it.”

“You do. I think your mind is so full of a sense of duty that it’s hard to focus on anything else.”

“You may be right,” he admitted.

“I am right,” you said with a smirk.

“You see…when you look at me like that….”

“And when you look at me, Lieutenant...”

“What?” he asked.

“I love your eyes,” you told him. “There’s something in them that makes me feel safe.”

“What are you sayin’, love?”

“I’m saying I’m pretty much in love with you, too. Tea’s getting cold, Lieutenant.”

“Fuck the tea. What did you say?”

“I’m in love with you, Lieutenant. I know it’s wrong, and I know you’ll go on about how wrong it is, but—”

“The rules don’t matter. I’d break every single one if it meant you’d be mine,” he said.

“If I weren’t sick right now, I’d kiss you.”

He looked down at your lips. “Save it for me, hm?”

“I don’t think you understand just how…hot that is.”

“Hot?”

“Yeah, like…sexy,” you said shyly. “Your voice, eyes….” You were leaning in closer to him without even realizing it.

“Anything else?” he asked, ending up in his own daze.

“Um…you…you…Simon…”

“Yeah?”

“I’d like to kiss you, but….”

“You’re sick, I know. I can wait,” he said.

“You can, but I don’t know if I can.”

He chuckled. “You’re impatient.”

You laughed. “You’re always saying that about me.”

He leaned in even closer. “Drink your tea, love.”

“Wow, Lieutenant, you’re a tease, I see.” You took a sip of tea.

“Pardon?”

“A tease, sir. You’re a tease,” you repeated.

“I haven’t done anything…yet,” he said quietly.

You pointed at him. “See? Tease!”

“I ain’t trying to be.”

“You don’t have to try, Lieutenant.” You both sat in silence for a while.

“I want you to call me Simon,” he told you. “I don’t want to be sir or lieutenant around you. I want to be me. I want to be Simon. Just Simon.”

“Okay, Simon.”

“You told her! Yes!” Soap shouted.

“Fuckin’ hell, Johnny…” Ghost murmured. “Any louder, the whole base will hear you.”

“Sorry, just happy for you, mate. It’s about time, Lt.”

“Yeah, but…not much has happened yet. We’ve, uh, we’ve drank some tea together,” he told Soap.

“That’s it?” Soap asked.

“She was sick, Johnny. Besides, I’m a patient man,” he said. Soap cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“She’s better now, so…I’m thinkin’ about taking her for a proper date, but….” His words trailed off.

“But?”

“I don’t know what…I mean, it’s been a long time since I’ve been out on a date.” He was trying his hardest to avoid what he really wanted to say.

“Are you askin’ for my help, Lt.?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Lt., she’s already head over heels for you. There ain’t much more you have to do. I mean…you do know how to kiss, right?” Soap asked, and Ghost threw him a glare.

“Of course, I know how to kiss….”

“If you need practice….” Soap puckered his lips, and Ghost was about to slap him over the head when you walked in.

“Am I interrupting?” you asked, smiling brightly.

“Yeah, I was about to kick Johnny’s ass,” Ghost said.

“Oh, okay, well, I’ll ask this quickly then. Simon, would you like to see a movie with me?” you asked.

Both men froze. You couldn’t see the look on Simon’s face, but Soap was beaming. He looked at Simon and then nudged him.

“What he means to say is yes, lass.”

“Simon?” You wanted to hear it from him.

“A movie? Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay, great!” you said excitedly. “See you later.”

“Later…tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah. Is that okay?” You looked at him.

“Yeah. Are we going off base or what?”

“Yup, if it’s okay, sir.”

“It’s fine. Time?”

You looked at your watch. “1900 hours?”

“Sounds good to me,” he said. You nodded and walked out.

“Guess it’s time for a crash course,” Soap said.

He walked downstairs, and there you were, waiting for him. You turned to him and smiled.

“Punctual,” you said.

“Always, love.”

You moved closer and wrapped your arms around him. “Thanks for this.”

“What? Did you think I was going to say no?” he asked.

You shrugged. “You could have.”

“Listen, I’ve been through some of the hardest situations, but saying no to you would be the hardest thing I’d ever have to do.”

You looked up at him. “Do you know how badly I want to kiss you right now?”

“Save it for the end of the date, hm?” He tapped your chin gently, and you nearly sighed aloud.

“I’ll try,” you said.

“Are you going to ambush me with kisses or something?” he asked.

“Don’t put it past me, Simon.”

As you got into the car, you could only think about kissing him.

The date went off without a hitch. Simon was a gentleman—you weren’t expecting anything less—and you behaved yourself.

The tension in the car was palpable as he drove back to the base. The tension in the elevator seemed to grow even stronger. You watched the numbers change—2, 3, 4—Simon is on the fourth floor.

The elevator dinged, and the door opened. He walked toward the opened doors, and you thought he was going to step off the elevator without saying a word, but suddenly you felt a firm grip on your wrist, and then he was pulling you along with him.

He moved so quickly for such a big man. You looked up at him as he guided you through the hallways, turning here and there before finally stopping in front of a door.

You were both slightly out of breath as he unlocked and opened the door. The lights were off, but Simon walked through the place as if he knew it by heart.

Of course, he did, you thought.

His room smelled clean as if you’d expect anything less from him. There was also a hint of his scent in the air. It was a scent that you could never quite place. Tea, for sure, but something else was there that was purely him. The man had his own musk.

“Come to me,” he said, voice cutting through the darkness. You went in the direction of his voice. “I’m here, love.” Wait, now it sounded as if it was coming from somewhere else.

“Are you moving?” you asked.

“You tell me,” he said, and you closed your eyes. “Over here…”

You whipped your head around. “Simon…”

“Yes?”

You kept your footsteps light and your ears open like he always told you. You listened for any change in the air. Humans radiated heat. Simon especially.

“Simon,” you whispered.

“Yes, love.” He was directly in front of you. You reached into the darkness and felt his broad chest in front of you.

“Good job, soldier,” he said with a hint of amusement. “Give me your hands.” Your eyes were adjusting now, and you could just see his hands. You placed yours in his.

He held them gently and moved them up until you felt the fabric of his balaclava.

“Go on,” he said. He dropped his hands and allowed you the honor of moving his balaclava. You felt your way, making sure not to lift it any higher than his nose. Even in the dark, he deserved to keep his secrets.

You felt around. He had a strong nose and lovely cheekbones. You felt a long, somewhat smooth line going from his cheek and over his lip, and you gasped.

“It’s all right,” he said, “Don’t hurt anymore.”

You could feel his warm puffs of breath on your hand, and you were tempted. You slowly moved your fingers to his jaw, which was covered in a sprinkling of newly growing hair.

Then you were touching his lips. They were soft and full. You felt them move and noticed that he had kissed your fingers.

“May I kiss you, Simon?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” he said. He met you halfway, and when your lips met, it felt as though the room lit up, but it was still dark. He stumbled back a bit, overcome by the feeling of your lips. Once he had his footing again, he deepened the kiss and walked you backward carefully.

Not once did you bump into anything or stumble until the backs of your knees hit a sofa. He guided you down carefully, putting a protective hand behind your head so that you wouldn’t land too hard.

“Kiss me again, Simon,” you breathed.

“Say it again,” he said lowly. He was right there—his nose touching yours.

“Kiss me again…Simon,” you whispered, and he did with a slight moan. He loved hearing you say his name.

The kiss became a little needier with tongue and teeth and a need to be closer. He pressed his body against yours, and you melded to him, wrapping yourself around him so that he wouldn’t move away.

He began kissing you teasingly—a peck here, a peck there—he wanted you to chase his lips. You whined, and you swear he chuckled.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly before lowering his head, so his lips were against your neck. “Save those whines for another night.”

Those words were full of promise and a hint of lust that shot right between your legs. It was almost as if he knew because he swirled his hips against you. He was slotted perfectly between your legs, so you felt the friction in the perfect place when he moved his hips.

“You’re such a good kisser,” you moaned before he and his tongue swallowed up your words.

“I could kiss you for the rest of my life,” he admitted. “Give me your tongue.”

You stuck your tongue out, and he swirled his around yours before sucking it.

“Mm!”

He pulled off slowly. “Like that?” He didn’t give you a chance to answer—his lips were on yours in a flash.

You pulled away and kissed along his jaw. When you worked your way down to his neck, he shuddered. You continued along his neck, and he turned to give you access. You latched on just below his ear, and he pushed his hips between your legs hard.

“Like that?” you teased.

He was practically rutting against you now. “Hush,” he said before kissing you again.

You slid your hands down his body, and he pulled away from the kiss to stop you.

“Not tonight,” he breathed. He moved your hand to his face. “I just want to kiss you tonight.”

“Sounds perfect.”

He kissed both of your cheeks before moving to your lips. “I can’t remember the last time I kissed someone…like this,” he said.

“Me neither.”

“Is it okay?” he asked.

“Is what okay?”

“That I just want to kiss you,” he said, his lips brushing against yours.

“It’s more than okay,” you told him, giving him a quick kiss.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, nuzzling your neck.

“So are you, Simon. Thanks for going out with me tonight.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, love. It was my pleasure.” You could tell he was needy for more kisses because he kept giving you little kisses here and there.

You initiated the kiss this time, claiming his lips as your own.

Tonight was the night you realized that you never wanted to kiss anyone who wasn’t him.

Tonight was the night he realized that after all that time not kissing anyone—he was waiting for you, for the right one to kiss.

[phantombstone]

LOST BET | GHOST X READER

He lost a bet to Soap and Gaz and now he's paying the consequences.

Genre: Fluff, crack.

TW: None.

WC: 762.

Only a few more hours. "Only".

Those bastards had picked the worst day for the bet. In a few minutes there was a meeting that Ghost had been called to, but he was still sitting in the room with his back pressed to the door, his mind filled with homicidal, gory thoughts. As soon as the bet was over, Soap and Gaz had better run and pray he wouldn't catch them.

He sighed, leaning his forehead on his forearms which he kept crossed over his knees, bent towards his chest. He was trying to disappear, making himself smaller and smaller.

"Fuckin' hell", he cussed under his breath. "Once I'm out, they're done living"

His mask laid beside him, motionless. He didn't even dare to touch it, it was as if he was afraid of "infecting" it with the girly pop energy of what he was dared to wear. He had no idea where Gaz had found it, but that... pink, shiny... teeth-rotting... thing - thing, because there was no other term to describe what he was wearing - certainly wasn't to the taste of any of the girls at the base, especially you.

Thinking of you made his stomach twisted. God. How could he even face you in those conditions? You, his Achilles heel.

"Bloody hell". He lifted his head from his arms and rested them on the surface of the door behind him, his eyes shut.

"I'm not fuckin' goin' to the meeting", he decided after contemplating the ceiling for a long while. It had probably already started, it wasn't even worth showing up at that point.

A soft knock woke him from his thoughts. He jumped in surprise but quickly regained his composure.

"Hey Simon, everything okay?", you asked from behind the door.

Fuck, what was he supposed to say now? Yes? So why didn't he show up to the meeting? No? Maybe it was better to lie.

"I have fever".

"Oh. Could you please let me enter?".

No way. There was no way. Not you.

"Not a good idea, you'll get sick".

"Come on Simon, I'm not scared".

He didn't know what to do or say, so he just stayed silent in hope you would stop asking him questions and go away. He loved you but couldn't stand to show himself in that way to you.

He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingertips.

"Simon?".

"I'm okay, no need to check on me".

He could feel you roll your eyes on the other side of the door.

"Simon Riley, you've never skipped a single meeting even though you clearly weren't interested in being there, and you also entered the battlefield with a 40°C fever. Remember that time? You couldn't even stand properly but came anyway".

He didn't respond.

"What's happening? Don't keep me outside of this".

"Nothing's happening".

"Soap and Gaz also told me to check on you. I was already on my way, but they were worried about you".

"Motherfuckers", he cussed in a low voice, but you heard him anyway.

"Motherfuckers?", you asked, confused.

"They are". They could've simply told you they he was okay and fine, that you needn't worry, but no.

"But why?". You were starting to take their side, and that wasn't good at all. Legitimate, because from the outside the situation took on a completely different meaning, but he didn't like it.

He sighed again, this time louder than the others.

"Simo-...n" was your first reaction when he opened the door to stop the argument before it even started: his pride mattered to him, but you of course were more important.

Your eyes widened and searched for his, hidden under his hand, no balaclava or mask in sight.

"What the fuck", you muttered before bursting out laughing.

You wrapped your arms around his bust to prove you loved him even though you were literally having fun at his expense.

"Feeling a little fairy today?", you joked and he grunted.

"So that's why you called them motherfuckers", you pointed out after a while, referring to Soap and Gaz. "Can't say you aren't right".

He said nothing, just stayed with his arms crossed and a hand covering his face.

You lowered his hand and kissed his knuckles, closing the door behind you to protect his privacy and his trust, consisting in fully exposing himself, from his face to that fucking horrible dress he was wearing.

"I will avenge you, love", you said, chuckling. "I'll make them wear dresses at least ten times worse than this one. Just you wait".

And he cracked a smile.

[sourpatch-boy]

Bartender!Reader [F] x TF141

Bartender!reader being the only one 141 asks to serve them because she's the only one who ever gets their drinks perfect or somehow manages to get their refills to them in a short amount of time, gives them the best deals and makes sure they don't overdo it.

Bartender!Reader who doesn't know that all of them want her and she's eyeing all of them but feels a little guilty till Soap, the nasty man himself, tells her to come back with them once she closes because they wanna get to know her better (even though she's sat with them a few times to talk).

Bartender!Reader who calls Price one night at 3 in the morning, hushed voice, sniffling because she's scared that someone's stalking her. Price is immediately getting Gaz to go with him and having Ghost and Soap on standby just in case. Whoever it is won't mess with her again once they handle it.

Bartender!Reader who asks 141 to go to the mall with her so she can get new clothes because, while she doesn't mind going alone, she really enjoys their company. Who are they to say no?

Bartender!Reader who's wondering why every man that looks in her direction while at the mall is quick to hurry a safer distance away. Come to find out, having 141 with you, even dressed in civi clothes, is scary to people and very intimidating.

[konigs-left-pec]

Just a little sweet morning one-shot. Simon Ghost Riley x FemReader as I'm procrastinating on the next smutfest in my drafts.

Mildly explicit; mdni.

Simon is so beautiful it hurts - tall and broad, just big all over with high cheekbones and long, sweeping lashes brimming darksome eyes that tell you more about him than his lips ever could. You're certain that you'll never forget the first time he showed you his face and even now your heart catches almost painfully in your chest at the memory.

He's sprawled in your bed, still solidly and blissfully asleep, naked as the day he was born with the sheets rucked down low at his waist. He's yours. The thought evokes something visceral that you can't quite explain, blooming deep inside like spilled paint when you look at him. You're privileged, you remind yourself; the others don't ever get to see him like you do.

He stirs when you brush your fingertips over his lips, eyes slowly cracking open, adjusting to the dim pre dawn glow infusing your bedroom. His gaze settles on you, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a warm smile. Every time Simon looks at you it feels like he's seeing you for the first time. Always so full of longing and doting warmth that it overwhelms you. You can't believe that he loves you.

"mornin' lovie" he husks into your ear, rough like broken glass, as he nestles impossibly closer. Bastard knows what his voice does to you first thing in the morning. You're already hopelessly ensnared by him, strong arms wrapped under and around your chest, one hand cupped possessively over your breast. You push into the feeling and he groans lowly, grinding his morning erection into the plush curve of your ass as his nose nudges the spot behind your ear.

"you're so bloody gorgeous." You know it annoys him, but you can't help the incredulous snort that escapes you at his words and the distractingly wonderful way he's pressing open kisses against your jaw. "s'true..." he laughs when you roll your eyes, "I love you."

"I love you too, Si." It comes out as a whisper, your throat tight with how besotted you are with this man. His mouth and hands are still wandering, no longer Innocent in their intent. You want him to fuck you into the mattress, you want his lust to break over you, steal your breath like a thunderous wave. His touch has turned greedy and your spine tingles as one of his hands skims down the length of your body, seeking out the dripping heat between your thighs.

You might just get your wish.

It will be another hour before you both get out of bed, finally ready to start your day. You'll watch him get dressed, drink his tea, and perform all manner of mundane trivialities one does day by day. You can't believe how damn lucky you are to live every day with him like it's the first.

[lethalchiralium]

If ur taking requests can we get something like Ghost still doesnt trust fxreader at all even when they are together for like 1/2 years and she gets all sad and starts distancing herself tyxxxx

No More | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: guys. guys i mean it keep the requests coming i love them. also : captain reader? because girlboss??? it’s kinda shitty but i love messy. gives me better control of future chapters :)

CALLSIGN: Mercy

warnings: angst, cussing, realizations and sort of heartbreak.

summary: You’ve been with Ghost for a year and a half - you allowed him into things you kept safe guarded, and realized that he has never done the same for you.

REMINDER: This is a side-blog, not my main! If you have any questions, feel free to message this blog or reblog! Reblogs are always appreciated - as well as any comments, they keep me motivated to write stuff like this!

SERIES MASTERLIST

You thought he would grow out of it. He’s an adult; given, he’s a very fucked up soldier, but an adult that has done adult things. He’s a few years shy of being in his thirties, and he doesn’t even understand the basics of having a girlfriend. He doesn’t understand a lot of things, and even though you’ve explained to him more times than you can remember, he still didn’t understand you after a year and a half of being together. Sure, you are on the same squad, you leave separately on break but always end up in the same apartment. The apartment that had framed pictures of you, your family, your dog - yet it always feels like he doesn’t give you anything.

It’s been a year and a half and the only personal thing you got out of him was a story about his brother when they were younger. You had told him countless stories of you and your childhood best friend, your single dad who fostered and adopted you. You even told him about your childhood dog who got hit by a car when he was young and still lived to be 15, about the very short memories you had of your godfather before he passed. You had told him everything, you had put your full trust into him and he hadn’t even given thought into putting an ounce of trust into you.

You couldn’t help it when you started to close yourself off - a trauma response from those years in the orphanage, then the system. You took less and less patients, eventually getting confronted by your Lieutenant, “What is going on with you, Captain?” You had given them a half-assed answer, “Got a lot of papers to go through from Price. It won’t be a long time.” And you kept yourself locked in your office, looking over case files and possible missions you could go on to escape this. Escape the feeling that has been gnawing at your soul since the last time you left your apartment with him three months ago. The feeling of distrust, of emotional abandonment.

You didn’t stop your tears when they came every night after Ghost had visited, but you never cried in front of him. You figured that would give him more ammunition to keep you at arm’s length.

Your hand ran across the hefty manila folder, the other held onto your vest collar. You opened the folder.

It was a stupid decision, you knew that. He would never let you get out of his sight, let you be anywhere without his knowledge and approval. But you needed something different - you needed somewhere where you felt like you could breathe, with people you trust and have put trust into you.

Your dog, Cerberus, whined from your cot across the room. You’d been sleeping more in your office than your own room, you figured it was because you were mentally preparing to be out on the friend with your old squad, and definitely not because you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Ghost. He never let you move away from him in missions, never let you out of his sight when on them - it was suffocating, feeling like you were inadequate in a field you spent most of your life in because of the man you loved with everything you had. You gave him your all, your everything - he definitely made you feel that it would never be enough, without him even speaking a word.

Your eyes read over the mission again. Reconnaissance on a couple of enemy bases, a patrol of safe houses in the area to make sure they were still secure. That and to infiltrate a top secret base deep in the mountains to retrieve information on a possible illegal uranium enrichment plant being constructed. Your eyes darted back across the room to Cerberus, you whistled lowly. The German Shepherd leapt off your cot, scrambling to sit in between you and your desk, he plopped his heavy head on your lap. You smiled at him, scratching behind his ears. “Good boy, Cerby.”

Your team consisted of your good friends, Logan and Hesh Walker, as well as Keegan Russ. You remembered how threatened Ghost was with how close of friends you were with them, you had chose to follow him to 141 instead of stay in the comfort of the Ghost Crew. A choice you had regretted earlier, but not now. You felt a lot better equipped with such an intense task force, you have more medics than before and an actual base to stay in - that and Price seemed a lot more relaxed now that Hassan and Shepherd were no longer a problem.

Cerberus’s ears perked up and he darted out from under your desk as you heard thunderous footsteps coming towards your office.

“Lay down.” You ordered your dog, he looked back at you before he skittered back onto your bed. You stood, your seat wheeled backwards half a foot. It was only five more seconds before your office door slammed against the wall, Ghost stormed in and shoved it back into the frame with his foot. He held up a folder just likes yours before he growled loudly, “What the fuck is this?”

You closed your own folder, moving your hand from your vest collar and splaying your fingers on the cardstock. Your eyes stayed down on the folder stamped, “Classified.”

“You’re going on a mission with the Ghosts?”

Your eyes looked over some stamped patient files, taking them in your hand and opening a few to se did you had signed them.

“Price told me five minutes ago. You’ve known for how long?”

You closed the files and whistled lowly again, the clicking of claws against the concrete was heard as the massive search and rescue dog curled around the back of your legs. You didn’t even have to look to know that he had his hackles raised - when you were on guard, so was he.

Ghost marched forwards and slammed his folder down on your desk, his fist clenched as he growled, “Answer me.”

“A month.” You muttered, eyes staring at the folders in your hands before turning away. You’ve cried over him the night previous and the seven before that, must you face him?

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” His voice was gruff, appalled. “That’s reckless. And you told Price not to tell me? Really?”

“It was need to know.” You answered, placing the files back on your desk before you stepped around your dog to the head of your cot where your duffle sat open. He followed, keeping a distance of six feet from you because of Cerberus curling around your legs and staring at him. Your hands grew shaky as you began to double check everything in your bag.

“I tell you whenever I leave for any mission, any fuckin’ errand, and you don’t dare tell me about one of the most important ops we’ve had in months? Why are you going?”

“They need a medic, they requested me.”

He scoffed. “We need our medic.”

You slowed down, hand brushing over your beige t-shirts as you spoke, “You have my lieutenant, Gomez.”

“I want you here.” His voice softened a little, you shoved the clothes down farther in the bag, pulling out your spare medkit and opening it, eyes darting over its contents. “I only trust you to patch me up.”

You slammed your spare med-pack closed and back into your duffle. You quickly zipped it, sharply saying, “That’s funny, ‘cause you seem not to trust me any other time.” You turned to look at him, eyes brimmed with tears.

His eyes widened. “What?”

“You don’t trust me, Simon. You never let me take my lead when we’re on missions, let me be near you, let me talk with other people.” Your arms crossed over your chest, tears slicing hot on your skin. “You don’t trust me. do you even want to be in this relationship?” Your hand went up and quickly wiped away your tears. “Because it certainly feels like you don’t.”

He stood there, stunned - his hands at his side, he had no idea what to do with them. “Of course I do.” He took a step forward, cautiously placing his right hand out. “Of course I trust you.”

You backed away then, your calves bumped into Cerberus, your hand reached down to touch his head - an attempt to calm yourself. “Then why can’t you put a little faith in me? A little faith that you are the one I go to sleep thinking about? That you are the one I worry about when I’m out on the field, instead of my own safety? That I wouldn’t ever do this to you?” Tears fall rapidly, your heart beat roughly in your chest - anxiety was gripping your diaphragm. “I trust you with my life, Simon. I have since we got together. It’s been almost a year and a half and you still don’t even trust me to have your back.”

He just stands there, arms at his side - his eyes stared at you, dark and full of pain. “I do. I do trust you, Y/N.”

You threw your duffle on your back and walked towards him - shoving a finger into his chest, looking up at him. “You have this whole mission to think about this, about us. Because I can’t be trusting you blindly when you don’t even trust me to breathe.”

You moved around him, whistling for Cerberus. The dog swiftly followed you out of the office, and you slammed the door behind you. You swiftly walked down the corridor, and as soon as you turned the corner, your back hit the wall. Your hand flew up to your mouth, pressing into it to muffle the loud sobs that fell from your throat. Cerberus pawed at your leg before pressing his head to it.

____________________

part 2 here!

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[hej-krukowaty]

Nothing restores my faith in the gaming community more than a call of duty YouTube short and the comment section instead of cod dude bros is just horrendously down bad people wanting that military man dick

[starry-eyedblog]

ahh i’m so sorry @angelofacidx!! i accidentally posted this ask before it was ready and had to delete it so your ask is gone :(( i hope i did a good job and y'know i had to make simon a tad pathetic, just for you <3

warnings/tags: simon x fem goth reader, awkward simon, flirting, teasing, kissing

when simon caught a glimpse of you one night at the pub he frequented with his mates, he was instantly captured by your beauty. usually, his type wasn't goth girls but there was something just so intriguing about you and your style that he found himself unable to look away.

when his friend johnny saw he was staring off, uninterested in the conversation, he followed his friends eyes and saw what had his full attention. "got a wee crush have you, si?" he chuckles, playfully nudging at his arm.

"oh fuck off," simon grumbled back, thankful for his black face mask covering his flushed cheeks. then, another friend was peeping up. "not your usual type mate. gonna go talk to her? or just oogle all night like a dickhead?" gaz had laughed with a raised eyebrow, taking a sip of his pint.

simon shrugged off his friends and left his booth, walking over to the bar where you were sat on a stool, talking away to a friend. he slipped in behind you, akwardly coughing to catch your attention which worked.

you spun around in your stool, tilting your head back to take in the absolute mammoth of a man stood in front of you. "can i help you?" you had asked, tilting your head slightly with an almost annoyed expression and simon felt his face flush warm.

"i uh- i was wonderin' if i could buy you a drink?" he asked, trying to avoid staring at you too much incase it come off as rude. in reality he was soaking up your outfit and makeup, enjoying all the details his eyes could find.

you laugh softly and with a smile, you accept the offer. "course you can, i'll have whatever you're having." you say, leaning in a bit closer to him so he can hear you over the general chit chat filling the busy bar.

simon nods, watching the way you lean towards him. his hands grow sweaty and his eyes frantically try to avoid yours. he quickly orders two rum and cokes, paying for them with a tenner. he takes his change, watching the bartender pour the drinks and place the glasses down in front of him.

he says a quick thanks before handing you a glass, "thanks." you say simply, bringing the glass up to your lips to take a long sip. as you place the drink down onto the bar, you look up at him with a questioning look.

"gonna ask me any questions or?" you tease with a smile and simon feels his heart hammering against his ribcage. "oh yeah, sorry uhm. so what's your name? that's a good place to start yeah?" he chuckles, hooking his mask under his chin and taking a big sip of his drink to try settle his nerves.

simon was someone who was confident in his looks, knew how intimidating he was with his height and old scars. you'd think he was a womanizer, but in all honestly he got shy around pretty girls and always managed to make an arse out of himself.

you laugh and nod, "yeah that's a good place to start. maybe next you can ask what my job is?" you tease with a cheeky smile before taking pity on him and telling him your name before asking for his.

simon answers back with his name, complimenting how pretty yours is before trying to move on and ask more questions that aren't very surface level.

more drinks are bought throughout the night and you seem to stay by his side, enjoying how flustered he gets around you. the more tipsy simon gets, the more he's unable to hide his fascination about your style.

"so, goth huh? i may have uh been a bit of an emo when i was younger in all honestly," he admits and you bark out a laugh, body tipping back and simon hopes to engrave that sound into his mind to remember for the rest of his life.

you raise a brow, "that so? just trying to imagine you with piercings and eyeliner. paints a pretty image honestly." you say before leaning forward, taking one hand and slowly dragging it up his arm while staring into his eyes.

once simon realises what you are doing, his face flushes pink and he feels his heart race. "had to take those out for military." he murmurs, unable to hold eye contact for long.

"military? makes sense now with all that muscles." you hum, giving a gentle squeeze to his bicep. "i've been like 'this' since i was a teenager, first got into the music through my parents and then discovered how much i enjoyed the style and makeup. haven't looked back since, brings in a lot of unwanted attention though. guys asking me to be their goth mommy on nights out or even dates, like what the fuck?" you shake your head, laughing with him with your hand still resting on his bicep.

"guys actually ask you that? fuckin' hell and i thought i was bad at flirting." simon bites, throwing back the rest of his drink before placing the empty glass onto the bar.

you laugh loudly at his words, shaking your head before finishing your own drink. "trust me, you're one of the best so far. little shy though eh?" you tease, giving another squeeze to his arm before standing up.

once you are standing up straight, you turn to your friend and explain your plan to her. she laughs and smiles, gently smacking you in a playful way before agreeing.

you turn back around and go up onto your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his ear, "i'm going out for a smoke, if you'd like to join me." you whisper, pulling back to stare up at him.

silently simon nods and follows you outside, glaring at any men who even glance in your direction while you make it out the bar. he is under the impression it will just be a friendly smoke together but oh boy was he wrong.

as soon as the both of you are outside, you are dragging him down a dark alleyway around the corner. your arms wrap around his neck and pull him down until your lips are just brushing. "can i kiss you?" you ask while looking into his eyes, hoping he’ll say yes.

simon is caught off guard, his eyes widening as you easily pull him down closer to you. “su-sure.” he mutters before he feels your lips pressing to his in a slow kiss. his arms gently wrap around your waist, bringing his body flush to yours as he deepens the kiss.

after a minute or so, the two of you pull away panting quietly. you giggle softly as you look at him and simon pulls a confused expression. “what you laughing at?” he grumbles, pink flushing his cheeks.

“a bit of my black lipstick is smudged on your lips big guy.” you smile cheekily, bringing your thumb to your mouth to lick before gently swiping at simon’s face to get rid of the evidence. he smiles down at you as he feel you wiping at the lipstick left behind.

he then works up the courage to ask the big question. “so, will i be able to get your number?” he utters, holding your waist a little tighter as he stares down at you. the question makes you chuckle, your head nodding. “yes you definitely can have my number.” you answer, smiling happily up at him.

[horangislittletiger99]

this is just my friend's oc and Simon (maybe könig too)

(Tag)

@luckyheart-67676