#❤️: simon ‘ghost’ riley

[marshymallo]

was cooking in my brain while driving today and a u-haul driver pissed me off

so just think about having a bad history of trying to rent a truck with u-haul, so you need to hire a moving company

thank god your real estate agent, kate laswell, who helped you find your new apartment/house/whatever is close friends with the owner of a small moving company!

you’re thinking: there’s no way they’re helping me move for this cheap… this must be some sort of scam, right??

but no, all kate had to do was show john price a pretty picture of you excitedly looking at your new place and he was ready to make his boys move you in for free

you’re caught off guard when two giant moving trucks pull up with sweaty, buff, good looking men climbing out. maybe you should write kate a thank you card….

[pippynsworld]

Going for a ride

[b1rds3ye]

AAAA i loved that 141 + masked reader one!! omg you're filling my head with mask ideas now...

what if reader had one of those LED masks that showed different facial expressions? just walking around going ":D" ":]" "^-^" "?" ">:(" as a substitute of their real expressions. omfg imagine them coming back from a mission and price is praising them on their work or smth and they just hit him with the "uwu"

I'm glad so many people are liking the prompt, I had a lot of fun with it too!! This is very much giving me Watch Dogs 2 Wrench but also Rina Tennoji omg there are so many legendary masked characters-

The rest of the 141 were confused at first. While the mask provided anonymity, there was also the benefit of hiding facial information to an enemy. But now with these LEDs your emotions could be read like an open book, but ultimately they found it endearing.

Soap in particular loves your mask. Johnny loves surprising you to generate "!"s over the eyes and finds himself smiling every time your mask switches to a new emotion. As demolition expert, he prides himself over the one time he got you so riled up that an error message flashed across your mask. He's also genuinely curious about the mask and will gladly try to help if there are any technical difficulties or if you want a hardware upgrade. He's also the most unnerved out of the 141 if you ever turn the LEDs off, immediately by your side to comfort you as he can no longer read your mood.

Gaz doesn't often provoke you but he does find himself snickering whenever your expressions change from others. It's also an easy way for Kyle to keep track of how you're feeling, even when no one's around your mask automatically goes ";-;" when you're feeling down and he'll check up on you. Whenever he does make a joke though, he's immediately looking to your mask to see if someone will appreciate his humour. He also wishes you turned off your mask more during missions, the little angry face your mask makes isn't intimidating in the slightest and he can't risk getting distracted cooing over you during an op.

Ghost is very curious. Your own mask has him wondering if his own needs a bit of an upgrade - perhaps an LED skull mask with a moving lower jaw. Simon's heart warms up a bit at how you've picked a mask that's still so comically expressive, he enjoys interacting with someone that's so upfront with their emotions. He won't admit it but he finds it cute how your mask goes "-_-" whenever he says one of his horrendous "military humour" jokes. He's considerate of your mask and ensures that there is no water or liquids nearby.

Price's first concern was practicality (how the hell were you going to use night-vision?) but once the mask seems to work without a hitch, he now checks on your mask to not only gauge your mood but as a visual indicator of the overall atmosphere among the rest of the task force. You're now his favourite person to praise. He doesn't give it freely of course, but most of his subordinates will try to hide their smiles as they glow under his praise as they keep up their tough soldier persona. You though? The sudden "! o !" and then consequential "^_^" as you walk away with a hop in your step is probably the sweetest thing he's seen in his entire military career.

It's all fun and games until you turn off the LEDs - usually done in dark/covert missions or when you're interrogating the enemy. That's when you're truly unreadable, a masked terror. As you eliminate enemies in close combat the last thing they will see is their own face contorted into absolute terror as it is faintly reflected like a memory against the bottomless darkness of your visor.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[cryingpages]

I'm just... gonna leave this here...

*silently slinks away*

Pls tag me if someone hears my call and writes something

[yakowo]

ah yes, longing ghostsoap my favorite... ❤️‍🩹

[yeenybeanies]

this is my favorite one that i’ve done so far 💖 feat. the return of the heart tails 💖

naga!ghostsoap in the bones 🐍🦴

[bluegiragi]

government assigned animal ears

[dollsghost]

i jus need to be babied by simon idk.

like ... want him to scoop me up and sit me on his cock when he knows ive been feeling down ... want him to coo when the tears start up and i hiccup his name ... want him to wrap his arms tight around me and hold me to his chest as he brings me down against his every thrust ... want him to whisper how much he loves me, how tight i am, how no one else could make him feel this good ... want him to throw me down and mount me, grumbling how he'd 'give me something to really cry about' (he loves me violently)

[robiinurheart33]

What if ghost had a stuffed toy he had since he was a kid

What if in the fire the only thing he managed to save was a little bunny with floppy ears and fur matted from the long years of Simon drooling, hugging and loving him?

What if the only thing he has left was the stuffed bunny and for a very, very long while he kept it stuffed in a box along with things from the fire they barely managed to save and the ear was slightly singed and covered with a thick layer of soot

What if one day Ghost had a panic attack and the only thing that could comfort him was the box in the closet and when he found the bunny he got so emotional he held it against his face and tried to gather the last comforting smells his house had, even if it smelled mostly of mothballs, burning fire and alcohol

What if ghost washed the bunny after a long 10 years, worried that his tears would soak through the soot on the bunny and remain permeant on the fur

What if Ghost scrubbed and scrubbed the toy the whole night, fear griping his heart at ruining the last thing that came from his childhood

What if he kept the bunny under tight security like it was his life savings or passport

What if everytime he sunk too deep into his head ghost would bring out the bunny, cry and then wash it again like a cycle

What if years later soap becomes his new bunny and ghost allows him to be his new safe space and comfort

What if years later after wars and missiles, ghost and soap settle down together and above their fireplace, next to their married photo is bunny leaning against the frame and looking matted and worn out, but loved all the same.

[marshymallo]

guys just here me out, random idea here:

ghost who goes through a bit of a depressive state because of soap (rip) and is too depressed to cook or clean or do anything for himself

captain price who visits simon and tells him about the nice young lady he’s hired to clean his place while he’s away and gives him her phone number

sweet cleaning lady/maid!reader who does her job without judging him and goes the extra mile to start cooking meals for him and doing laundry, none of which was in their discussed agreement for her job

reader who slowly cracks open his heart with soft smiles, checking on him outside of her designated work hours, and sweetly calling him “mr. riley, sir”

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@moralesispunk

⭒ Simon is a tummy man

@guttednights

⭒ olderboyfriend!simon

@youronlydarlin

⭒ loser!simon

Just loser!Simon who's unknowingly a sex god

⭒ sucking Simon's dick like crazy

Suckin Simon's dick so good he starts beggin'

⭒ loser!simon who's unaware of just how big he is

⭒ jus suckin simon's dick til hes overstimulated

@undercoverpena

⭒ Keep You Close

he's pretty sure he's in love with you. not that he'll admit it, acknowledge it.

⭒ I'm With You

he knows how he feels, he knows how she feels. yet he fucks it up all the same.

⭒ About Someone, That Isn't You

memories that cloud reality, forcing him to blink them away—finding less glimmer, less shine greeting him as your eyes try to go dull. 

@bingoboingobongo

⭒ In His Eyes

Gaz swears that there’s something going on between you and Ghost. Soap refuses to believe it until he sees it for himself.

@ohmygraves

⭒ After your leave you came back with a ring

memories that cloud reality, forcing him to blink them away—finding less glimmer, less shine greeting him as your eyes try to go dull. 

@peppermint-toads

⭒ The night Simon retires

@oceantornadoo

⭒ Simon in love

simon riley being in love but he actually just doesn’t know it.

@shoukiko

⭒ Ghost vs. Simon

@konigsblog

⭒ hickeys w Simon

@suguann

⭒ Husband!Simon

@slvtforsimon

⭒ bouncing on Simon's cock

@tacticaldiary

⭒ Capture in Tandem, Recovery in Tandem

"I'll give you a choice." He says, cocking the gun. "Shall I put a bullet through you, or her?"

⭒ A Fighting Chance, Frayed Stitches Don't Hold

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

⭒ It All Comes Crashing Down

She presses the metal radio against her lipa and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.

@halcyone-of-the-sea

⭒ Til It Hurts; part 2

You thought that it would be easy - moving on and blazing your own trail, but at every step, memories seem to come back and haunt you. And the biggest memory takes the shape of a man with a skull mask. Can you still deny what you had always felt when he stands at your side once more?

⭒ Harvest Storms

In the process of trying to keep you happy and separate from him, he was leading you down the exact path he had tried to steer you from.

⭒ Another Word for Protection

Simon Riley x Niece!reader (platonic series)

⭒ Black Metal Bourbon

⭒ Between Dreams and Sugars

Your screams will haunt his dreams until the day he dies.

@lovelyghst

⭒ soft tummy simon riley

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

⭒ The Roomate Series

Three years ago you decided to go to college after being out of high school for so long but the only problem was that you needed a place to stay. You found an ad about someone needing a roommate for their apartment and ended up becoming roommates with a man named Simon Riley.

[b1rds3ye]

hi!! this is my first time doing a request so idk if I'm doing this right haha but uh, I was wondering if you could do like. yknow the masked one you made for the 141 (I can't remember the name rn💔)? I thought of like, a sequel idea. like, what if during combat an enemy manages to take reader's mask, and so reader panics and like, rips the enemies throat out with their teeth (or if that's too violent, just goes basically rabid on them lmao) and how they would react?? if this is too violent or specific dw you don't have to!! anyways, I love your content it's totally awesome ur writing is amazing! have a good day!!

YES I LOVE THE BADASSERY AND THE UNHINGEDNESS!! If I'm your first request I'm so flattered anon pls do feel free to drop by again <333 Also just going to do general rabidness because ngl the throat thing sounds like an infection speedrun and we want our masked reader to stay nice and healthy <333

Word Count: 1.2 (it got a little long WHOOPS)

Warning: Canon typical violence, reader does get a lil sadistic and unhinged <333

Beyond Task Force 141 and Laswell, many - if not all - allied soldiers wondered about what lay under your mask. Obscuring even the eyes, your visage was more unreadable than Ghost's. Larger than life, a soldier among men.

There was a running joke that there was just nothing under your mask, perhaps an eldritch horror of sorts. You let the new recruits entertain the thought, it kept morale up as they conjured more myths of you. They said that no one has seen you without your mask. They were partially right.

It simply was that no one lived to tell the tale.

You were never one for close combat, but fighting terrorists was never smooth sailing. The chaos of battle had all of the 141 separated against the tight streets of Las Almas. How uncanny that you could not see your allies but hear their gunfire. Running out of ammo, you couldn't lament at your misfortune as a shoulder pummeling into your chest, sending you to the ground and the air out of your lungs. Head bashing against the floor you groaned as you furiously clawed up to whatever heavy weight was crushing your body. You were starting to make up the figure of a man hovering over you through the blurry haze of a concussion that filled your sight. The distant static of Price's voice through the radio, probably asking where the hell were you but you had more pressing issues at hand.

Through your struggle and flailing limbs you managed to wring the enemy's pistol off of them with a painful twist of their wrist. And they retaliated tenfold, a large sweaty hand reaching down and pressing your head back against the ground. Your adrenaline makes you writhe further, he was going to suffocate you, or worse, poison you with how fucking awful his hand smelt as the stink of burning gunpowder replaced any of your oxygen. But no, he committed a far worse crime.

A singular pull and the grating tear of fabric as your mask is pulled off of your face.

A heavy moment where your enemy looks down at you and his gaze is not like before. It's clear, it's deep. It is not looking at your facade but at you and you are no longer a soldier. You are merely a human, so fragile, so weak. One that is on the verge of death in a foreign land surrounded by bodies of fallen comrades and enemies alike. One whose mythos is all but lost at the victorious and leering smirk of an enemy as they take in your face.

That simply won't do.

Pulling your knee up to create space between you and the man, you pull out your tactical knife from your waist and drive it into his torso. His smile falls only to land at settle on yours below him, just like his blood that trickles as forbidden crimson down your hands and seeps into your uniform. It's disgustingly warm. He grows heavier as he loses all control over his body and you heave to throw his figure off to the side. You stab him once again for good measure. And then again. And again. Quick, short jabs down with a sharpened blade that cuts through uniform, flesh and bone alike. You did not count how many times you drove your blade down, numbers were too complex when your mind was running faster than any comprehensible speed. There was only one goal. To make sure no one knows what happened.

A harsh grip on the shoulder yanks you back up and you swipe with your armed limb to cut your new assailant's neck but they were onto you. Catching your arm, they pull it up as they hold onto your shoulder once again with a tightening grip that digs into your uniform. But they do nothing more, no matter how much you thrash and kick.

"Wake up, Sergeant," your opponent seethes and that voice makes you still, a buoy that floats across through your rage. Deep and grounding and your captain's.

You nearly stumble back but Price catches you before you crumple to the ground in exhaustion. The adrenaline was escaping your body leaving you with barely the energy to stay upright. Your head lolls back for a second before you bring it to the side to look at your direct superior, the remnants of a concussion making your vision blurry.

"You broken?" he asks.

"Negative, sir,” you respond immediately but he looks a little doubtful, a singular eyebrow raised as he inspects you. Not your body, but your face. The dilated pupils and the taut muscles told more than any wound.

"Can't say the same about your wee friend over there," Soap whistles as he tilts his head to behind you. “Christ, you did a number on him.”

You dare turn to look over your shoulder but Ghost already situated himself in front of the body. But between his feet you could already make out the indistinguishable mass of tattered fabric and discoloured flesh. Fresh blood filled the rivets between the cobblestones, the remnants of the body inching its way closer to you-

"Was it the mask?" Simon brings your attention back to him. You nod dumbly. He only dips his head in what you can only describe as understanding as he folds his arms, fortifying his stance in front of the mess you made. You weren’t going to see your handiwork, he was too kind to ever let you.

John drops his hands down to his sides as Gaz approaches you with your mask.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," Kyle offers you a sympathetic smile.

"Learnt that the first day I saw 'em on duty," Johnny retorts and you instinctively smile as you take your mask from Kyle. The hardened plaster of your mask had cracked, the fabric that hugged your neck had become torn but it'll do for the remainder of the mission. Slipping the mask back on, Simon offers a nod of approval while Johnny tugged at the fabric for a few finishing touches.

Ultimately the mission was successful. The task force returns to base and although none of the boys mentioned the carnage you left, there are still whispers of it on base. You had hurried to debrief and get your mask fixed but it seemed some privates caught sight of you and that was enough to spark rumours. Your mask had gotten so fractured that a shard was left back in the streets of Las Almas and revealed one of your eyes to the rest of the world. Such a small organ but so vivid. The privates saw, and more was added to the myth that was you. There was now no question about what was under the mask. No lovecraftian horror or empty space, no monster beyond comprehension. No, what was under your mask was terrifyingly human.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[yumethefrostypanda]

Simon "Ghost" Riley

[navybrat817]

🥰 - I genuinely don’t think that Ghost wears his mask when he’s on leave. I just have this feeling that the ‘Ghost’ persona is similar to Bucky’s ‘White Wolf’ persona and neither will bring that home. It comes out when necessary but you will not find any shred of ‘Ghost’ when Mr. Simon Riley is mowing his lawn with a cold beer in hand

Nonnie, I love the comparison between Ghost and Bucky with those personas!

Ghost on the outside is a cold-hearted and calculated killer, but he's so much more than that. He's loyal, intelligent, and witty. For those lucky enough to say he's close to them, he's a good friend.

You're the luckiest one of all because you have his heart, something he wasn't sure he still had before you came a long.

As a man with a terrible childhood and the horrors he has seen and committed in the military, he doesn't want to taint you with his atrocities. The mask protects you as much as it hides him. It keeps you safe, like he wish he could've done for his family.

But he doesn't want to be Ghost with you. Because Ghost is cold. A machine. A killer.

With you, he wants to be Simon.

You're the one to remove his mask when he asks.

And when you're settled into your home, a place he deems safe, no one knows he's Ghost. Hell, no one else even knows he's Simon Riley. He's just another guy.

But Simon? That's just for you. The person he let take off the mask.

Love and thanks! ❤️

Fun Friday Asks

[schrodingerscougar]

Unironically, what would Simon be like with a tomboy girlfriend? Not the typical boisterous type, maybe someone a touch more shy and/or reserved?

Simon usually dates women who are on the girly side of the scale, but when he meets you, he's instantly drawn to you.

He first sees you at the gas station where you're filling up your neat Ducati Multistrada’s tank, and he can't help but compliment your ride. You smile back at him with a small wave of your hand, then pick up your helmet and head to the shop to pay.

While he knows he's a creep for that, Simon can't help but wait for you to come out. He wants to exchange a few words, just a few sentences to get to know you a little better. Since he came to the gas station with his own bike, he thinks it can give him a topic to talk about.

After a few years of saving, he bought a BMW GS for himself, and since the two bikes are so similar in style, he feels confident you would be interested. At first you look surprised to see him, maybe a little taken aback, but he chalks it up to his massive build. He flashes a friendly smile at you, which makes you a lot more relaxed around him.

Fast forward to two months later, when the two of you are in a hotel room during a motorcycle trip. He paid for an extra night there because he wants to spend a little more time with you when you're not on your respective bikes.

But there's one little thing that bothers him. You don't want to have sex with him. Every time he makes a move on you, you come up with an excuse to get out of his grasp. Simon hopes that being away from home might help you loosen up, and maybe you would finally tell him about why you've been avoiding that topic.

Before dinner, the two of you go down to the wellness section, opting for the sauna that is surprisingly empty. He starts with a casual chat, discussing the details of the rest of your trip, but then he moves a little closer to you, his hand soon covering yours as he begins to talk about what has been bothering him.

It takes him by surprise to hear it's not him you don't want. In fact, you want him very much, you're just still not sure about his intentions and whether or not he truly wants you.

So he makes it his mission for the night to make you feel good, to make you feel wanted, needed, and when the sun rises in the morning, he finally lets you get some sleep.

[angellake]

thinking of unicorn!reader meeting knight!ghost for the first time and im getting dizzy and and and and

( MDNI - stalking, description of corpses, ghost is a creep ❤️, non-con drugging, implied kidnapping, implied ghost/gaz/soap )

you're walking through the trees, fresh snow and frozen foliage crunching under hoof. icicles hanging from tree branches and scattering sunbeams below. its quiet and you're alone. peaceful.

you think, at least. not knowing what stalks you through the forest. a giant of a man on a mission. somehow silent despite the heavy armor he wears as he follow close behind you.

disregarding the perilous terrain, this is the easiest quest price has ever sent ghost on. you're far different than he'd expected. your body similar to that of a satyr, upper half dusted in fur yet human-like and nude. lower half covered in the same silky fur and legs ending in well cared for hooves. a long, curly tail swaying in the slight breeze. sparkling horn of bone sprouting from your forehead and a pair of fuzzy ears further back. he understands price's impulse to have you. a pretty thing to look at and keep.

it helps that you're seemingly oblivious to his presence, careless and at ease in your surroundings. he imagines it's due to years of isolation and your natural disposition. unicorns are said to be creatures of innocence.

it seems to be true, he thinks, watching you leisurely stop in front of a bush heavy with berries despite the season.

he stops short, only a couple of steps behind you. exhaling heavy as he watches you bend over, exposing the soft space between your thighs only briefly before your tail settles. soft hands plucking the red fruit from the branches. juices staining your fingers like blood.

watching you lick your fingertips clean does nothing to cool the fire in his blood. price's orders, the only thing stopping him from pinning your soft form to the frigid forest floor, ring heavy in his head. the words keeping him pinned in place. he flexes his hands, the chilly metal of his armor grounding.

it's only then, when you turn, that you notice him for the first time. eyes going wide and a small sound of surprise escaping you, turning into mist in the air. your ears flick backwards, pressed against your head.

it startles you, the creature wearing metal behind you. you've never seen one standing and free of nature's grasp. you only know of them to house the corpses of something. unfamiliar with the creatures feeding the trees with their rotting bodies. shiny metal wrapped in ivy and crawling with insects. smelling of rotting meat.

it strikes you that growing up isolated might have its downsides.

all you can do is stand there, nervously eyeing the behemoth before you. figure blocking the sun and casting a shadow. for once, you struggle figuring out if something means you harm. so used to dealing with animals, things forthcoming in their violence.

but it just stands there, silent and imposing. looking back at you. harmless, you conclude. not knowing better as you take a curious step towards it, quickly closing the distance. your tail dragging in the snow behind you.

( much to ghost's surprise. he thought you'd have enough sense to be at least wary. )

it's much taller than you expected, whatever it is. you have to crane your head back to look up into it's face. it smells like wet soil, something freshly buried. you wonder if it's pretty under the thing on its head. the last few corpses you'd come across in the same attire had bloated, rubbery skin and bulging eyes. some had been skeletal. you grimace at the memories.

you really hope it's pretty under there.

ghost, for once, is confused. watching you stand on the tips of your hooves, steadying yourself by placing your hands on his breastplate. your nose twitching as you peer up into the darkness of his helmet hiding his eyes.

he doesn't stop you when you reach for his helmet, forcing his head to tilt to the side. you're gentle. gentler than soap had been the first time ghost allowed him to lift the visor of his armet. but your hands roam him all the same. quickly busying yourself with feeling the joints of his armor and running your nails over the engraved textures.

ghost finally moves when you begin pulling at the leather straps of his satchel, catching your wrists in one hand. his sudden movement scares you.

the thing moves when you begin pulling at the leather pouch at its hip, grabbing both of your wrists in its massive hand. panic flares to life in your chest, forcing a neigh-like sound out of you as you struggle for a moment. calming down when you realize all it's done is stop you from touching its belongings.

you scowl at it. stingy.

it must sense your irritation with it because it makes a sound like it's amused with you. it only sours your mood and makes you stomp your hooves. at least, until you notice its free hand moving, opening the pouch you'd just been messing with.

your curiosity overpowers your aggravation as you watch it pull a clear bottle out. the liquid inside shiny and light yellow like the winter sun. you don't expect the bottle to be pushed into your hands and uncorked. it smells sweet and warm, like waking up from a nap in the sun. fur warmed and belly full of food.

without hesitation, trusting, you take a sip. it makes your tongue tingle and warms your throat. slightly thicker than water. you can't help but drink more of it, you've never had something so sweet before. besides the fermented fruit you found in a broken wagon one summer.

you make it halfway through the bottle before you start to feel odd. limbs suddenly heavy and unsteady. wobbling in place as you struggle to keep your eyes open. you don't even grasp what's happening as everything fades to black and you go limp.

it's easy to bundle you up and toss you over his shoulder after you drink the potion ghost's boys worked so hard on. he's proud of them and can't wait to show them the pretty thing they helped bring home.