#Ghost Call of Duty

[luxcuriousao3]

The first time Ghost sees you, you're tending to a mangy, feral mutt that haunts the base, snapping and snarling at anyone that gets too close. The other soldiers joke about it being Ghost's spirit animal often. It bites you, even though all you're trying to do is help. But you don't lash out defensively, or turn your back on it. You see through its angry mask for what it really is--a scared, hurt creature that just needs someone to love it enough to make it feel safe again. And you do. You sit with that flea-bitten, ill tempered dog, feeding it treats and talking to it softly, until it finally calms enough to let you help it. You're patient, and kind, and gentle. Everything the dumb beast has been missing for so long.

Christ, but he wishes he was the bloody dog.

[skyrigel]

Simon never heard his father say sorry, or please, or thank-you, or I love you.

In their house, when his mama would put down hot, heavy casseroles, her skin damp with sweat, eyes darting for some sweet words, his father never said one word of thanks, let alone 'some'. Only waved his thick, impatient hand.

His father never took the plates to the sink. Never noticed when she stayed up at night to sort the screws by size and purpose—organizing the chaos he left behind just to find one damn hammer.

His father never said ‘please can you—’ only grunted with that bitter mouth, glared with those unkind eyes when he needed something.

Simon never heard him say I love you. And he couldn’t believe his eyes the day his father plucked out his baby brother from his mama's arm, and didn’t spare one glance for his Ma. She didn't deserved that, did she? Her weak frail body, cracked murmuring lips — she should be celebrated with adoration, comfort, love.

Love, and an infinite of it.

His father never sat beside her just to drink tea. Never told her about his day. Never asked about hers — what she did, or liked, or wanted. Never reached out his thumb, however calloused it was, to wipe away the sprout on her chin. That he was grateful she's next to him, that he loved her.

So when life happened, and Simon was left to pick up his pieces and place them in a way he wanted to be—he thought whomever he will be, anything, but his father.

Anything but him.

And then life happened again but this time it arranged itself in beautiful ways. Because you came with it this time. You and all your silly lovely ways, you who kissed your knee before resting your chin, you who cheered up catching up with fridge' light switching off, you so beautiful, so kind, made up of sundust. His sunshine — lighting up his world.

And God, he was so, so grateful. Every moment, every day !

“I love you,” he’d say the moment he wakes up next to you. Pressing his love on your lips, on your shoulder, on your neck.

“I love you,” when you spill milk in the morning daze and stare at it like it might disappear.

“I love you,” when he wipes your chin and kisses your forehead.

“I love you,” when he takes your hand in his and rubs it between his palm, why ? Because he'll spend his whole life keeping your hands warm than anything else.

“I love you.” because he loves, loves, and loves you so much that it hurts, so much that it heals, so much that it's everything sweet ever happened to him.

“I love you.” for all the ways his father failed, and Simon too, as a son, as a brother — failed to save his mama and lil' brother. I love you, because in loving you he is allowing himself to be loved.

Masterlist

[angelicangelz]

John Price who definitely has a praise kink.

And i don’t mean praising you. Well, he does love to praise you, of course. But what really gets him going is when you praise him.

When your plushy thighs squeeze his head as he feasts on your pussy, your moans and whines only spurring him on. He can’t get over the sounds you make. But oh does he love it when you use your pretty words.

Telling him how good he’s doing. How much you love his skilled tongue swirling your clit. What a perfect man he is for you. It makes him nearly cum in his pants.

He loves missionary because it keeps your pretty mouth (and so your words) close to his ear so he wouldn’t miss a thing. The praises being sent straight to his eardrums (and his cock, of course).

He’d go round after round to hear you tell him how good he felt. How big he was. How he was the only man to ever make you cum like that. And how you would never love a man the way you loved him! :)

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

i legit had to rewrite this 4 times cause tumblr was acting up. i’m thinking of writing a longer fic (maybe multiple chapters) about price but idk if anyone would read it okay bye<33

[shinoko-oshi]

Simon teaches you how to cum

One month into your relationship with Simon, he was set to leave on his first mission since you’d gotten together. It wasn’t a long, just a little over two weeks but the moment he mentioned it, your face dropped, and your fingers curled into the hem of your shirt.

He noticed. Of course he did.

That night, he handed you a small black box, thumb brushing over your knuckles when you took it with hesitant fingers. A vibrator.

��Figured you’d need somethin’ to keep busy while I’m gone,” he said, half teasing, though the look in his eyes was anything but light.

You only nodded, biting your lip, avoiding his gaze.

“What’s wrong, birdie?” he asked gently, tilting your chin up with the curve of his knuckle.

You hesitated, cheeks burning. “I’ve just… never made myself cum before.”

He stared at you for a second longer before standing up, pulling you with him, murmuring, “C’mon then. Let’s fix that.”

He positioned you in front of your bedroom mirror, body bare, knees weak, thighs trembling already just from the heat of his gaze. One of his hands held your jaw in place, fingers curled under your chin, forcing you to watch.

“Eyes open, love,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear.

“Want you to see how your body works, how it should be touched.”

His other hand moved between your thighs, fingers pressing slow circles into your clit. You whimpered, eyes fluttering, only for him to tighten his grip on your face.

“Watch,” he chuckled. “See that? That’s how you like it, yeah?”

His fingers sank into you slowly, then faster, curling just right. Over and over, until your knees buckled and your breath hitched sharp in your throat. And when you finally came, gasping against the glass, he kissed your shoulder and hummed, “That’s it, lovie. Just like that.”

You got up, staggering toward the bed, legs shaking, ready to collapse into the mattress.

But Simon caught your wrist and gently tugged you back.

“Where you goin’, birdie?” he asked with a light chuckle. “I still gotta teach you how to cum on a vibrator.”

He guided you back down, spreading your legs, eyes wide as he held the toy up, his smirk lazy heavy with promise.

Maybe you really did need the lesson.

Or maybe Simon just had a thing for mirror sex.

Maybe Simon just loved his birdie too much and the thought of being away from you already ached more than he’d admit.

Either way, you weren’t getting any sleep that night.

Shit post.

[itsoutrageouss]

It’s the first time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that something in him changes profoundly. You had always had your different skill sets out on the field, it was what made you such a powerful duo for the task force. You were sly, agile, a killer in the dark and he was a brute show of force and strength, able to kill with his bare hands. You argued a lot, though. Your differences that made you work so well also made you clash time and time again. He found you annoying. You found him arrogant.

But after a mission, Ghost finds you collapsed on the floor in an empty building— Crying. He’d never seen you do that before, but he knew you were a softer more sensitive soul, you were just good at hiding it.

He was moving before he realised it, crouching down in front of you, eyes narrowed as he tried to find your gaze that was lost in a heap of warm tears. His hands got clammy and his throat dry because how could he make it stop? It was like the sight had reached in and seized a part of him long gone, maybe one he’d never found before now.

“Stop crying.” He said foolishly, but his tone had lost its usual edge, and the very rare lilt of pleading had laced into his voice. Why did he suddenly grab your shoulders and press your trembling body into his? He had no clue but he wanted to shield you from whatever had made you look so vulnerable before him.

A part of him didn’t like seeing this, didn’t recognise the garbled sound of soft sobs, the way your body’s strength seemed to evaporate into a fragile, soft one that he wanted to pick up and put back together. Another part of him was sucking in this moment, afraid it would get lost and maybe feeling a bit guilty about it. But this feeling of… was it protection? Protection, yes. He’d never had it like this before. Usually, protecting means killing and hurting. Right now it meant nurturing as your small hands reached around his neck and you curled into him. He reacted immediately, sitting down and scooping you into his lap.

He closed his eyes, his chin resting on your head with a sigh. He had no idea what came next. This had to change your dynamic in some way because he couldn’t ever look at you the same. He saw your softness and maybe he fell in love with it right there, and wanted to be the one you showed it to. Only him.

“Im sorry” You whispered into his chest. His hands flexed around you, fighting the urge to smother you even more against him.

“Dont say that. Just keep holding onto me.” His voice was more hoarse than usual as his fingers unconsciously combed through your hair.

Whatever had happened, he was sure you felt it too, or you would’ve never let him this close. And he wished for everything you would let him again one day.

series masterlist

[sai-int]

return to sender simon making reader sit on his face despite her lack of experience and fear she'll suffocate him

this one got a little lengthy I fear...

cw: oral (f), face sitting, mdni below the cut

“you sure?”

you’re perched on top of him, straddling his chest as his hands wander along the expansive of your thighs

“i mean—are you seriously sure?”

the overhead light is off, the bedroom dim, lit only by the amber glow of the bedside lamp . simon blinks up at you like you’ve asked him something utterly ridiculous.

“am i sure?” he repeats. sis voice is low and amused, rough at the edges like gravel and thunder. “sweetheart, m’fuckin’ starvin’.”

you let out a nervous little laugh, trying to brush off the fluttering panic in your belly. “i just… i don’t know what im doing, babe.”

his brow furrows—not in frustration, but something gentler. he sits up just enough to brace one arm behind him, the other reaching for you, hand warm on your hip. “y’don’t have to do a thing,” he murmurs. “let me take care of it.”

“i’m not trying to chicken out, i swear—”

“i know, love,” he cuts in. not unkindly. his voice softens, lips brushing your knee as you softly shift. “you’re overthinkin’ again.”

you drop your gaze, fingers fidgeting in the hem of your sleep shirt. “i just… what if i hurt you? i mean—you’re big, si, but i don’t wanna suffocate you or something.”

he blinks, and then—laughs. a deep, hearty sound from his chest that makes your whole face heat up.

“if i die,” he says between chuckles, gripping your waist to draw you closer, “that’s the way i wanna go.”

“simon.”

“‘s true, girl. buried ‘tween these thighs?” he sighs, mock-dreamy, and presses a kiss to the inside of your leg. “hell of a way to go out.”

he’s being sweet, trying to lighten you up—but you’re still hovering there on your knees, skin hot, breath shaky. you know what he’s offering, and you want it, want him, but the vulnerability of it all feels damning.

he sees it. reads you like a map he’s memorized front to back (he has).

“hey.” his voice dips, quieter now, lower. “y’trust me baby?”

you look into those eyes—dark, steady, safe. and you nod.

“then come here, love.” he lies back again, mouth tilted in the smallest, cockiest smile. “sit that pretty cunt on my face like a good girl, yeah?”

your breath catches.

he doesn’t grab. doesn’t yank you down. he waits—patient, confident. like he knows you’ll do it. because he knows you want to. that all your hesitation is just nerves, not refusal.

you ease up toward his shoulders on shaky legs, and his big, calloused hands scrape up your thighs, then under your shirt—palms searing and slow as they spread over your hips and waist.

“c’mon, sweets,” he murmurs, voice like a dark promise. “right here. let me have you.”

you settle just above his mouth, barely letting your weight rest on him, and he growls.

“uh-uh. full weight, y’hear me?” one hand leaves your hip to land a sharp smack to your ass. “sit.”

—as if you’re a dog.

you gasp, lowering until you feel the heat of his mouth on you. his tongue—god. long, wide, confident—sweeps up your folds with a guttural sound like he’s been waiting for this since he first ate you out on your dresser months ago.

it’s overwhelming. wet and messy and so fucking good you forget your own name.

you try to lift off, try to relieve some pressure, but his grip tightens.

“nah” he grunts against you, the vibration making you tremble. “stay down. y’not goin’ anywhere.”

he eats you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. like you’re dinner, dessert, salvation. tongue fucking into your weeping hole, nose brushing your clit, hands bruising on your hips. you’re moaning, writhing like a pornstar as your thighs tremble, but he just keeps going, like a man possessed. like he needs it more than air.

“si—,” you gasp, overwhelmed. “si, baby, i—i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he growls, finally pulling back just enough to speak clearly, chin glistening, eyes wild. “y’ gonna sit pretty and come for me , pup. c’mon, love. come in m’mouth.”

he doesn’t give you time to argue. mouth back on you, rougher now, greedy, tongue circling your clit until your hips stutter and grind and shake—until you're crying out and your whole body goes tight and hot and shattering.

and even then—even then—he doesn’t stop. licks you through it, holds you steady as you fall apart above him, as you drip and leak into his mouth, savoring the sweet, tangy taste of you.

when you finally slump forward, completely spent, he coaxes you off with care—arms wrapping around you as you collapse alongside him. he shifts, flips you onto your back so he’s the one holding you, protective and proud, one hand stroking your hair.

you’re panting. blinking up at the ceiling, dazed and fucked-out and utterly wrecked.

he kisses your temple. his voice is quiet. smug.

“still worried about killing me, sweets?”

[scoobywrites690]

Ghost wanting you to sit on his face.

Simon pulling you off his dick mid bouncing, his hands gripping the fat of your hips as he try’s to drag you up towards his face.

“Up, mama” he mutters as his grip tightened trying to get you to just sit on his face. He just wants to feel your soft supple thighs on either side of his head, and your sweet cunt on his mouth. He wants to be surrounded by you. To be engulfed by you and your delicious pussy.

Trying to refuse what he’s asking of you only gets him to beg more, mutter sweet words to you as he continues to pull you up towards his face, just aching for it.

This is something that the two of you haven’t done together yet, but it’s been the only thing that Simon can think of. Your hips rocking back and forth your slick coating his face as he has his tongue buried deep inside you. Making you squirm around on top of him, trying to lift up and away from his teasing tongue. Only making him wrap his arms around your thighs to hold you in place, his strong arms holding you steady with ease whilst he continues his assault on your poor little pussy.

Sometimes he’ll land a light slap to your ass as a warning if you still continue to squirm after he’s contained you with his arms, mumbling something about behaving as he’s sucking your clit into his mouth.

Simon takes great pride in pleasing his woman, it’s probably his biggest turn on to be honest. Seeing you all sweaty with your flushed face and your legs shaking as you try to recover from the 3 orgasm that Simon gave you all in a row.

[bunny-jpeg]

simon riley is buying the engagement ring after he got you inside after a night out at the bar. he heard your sweet little frustrated noises and your soft 'no's when he tried to give you water. and then refused to wear nothing but his xxl hoodie to bed because all other clothes were too "complicated" - whatever that meant.

eventually he got you settled into bed with promises of french toast in the morning - you wanted it now. and while he stayed up for a little bit more, he scrolled online for engagement ring options and wondered if he could measure your ring size while you were asleep beside him.

he couldn't remember, did you want a (lab-grown) diamond or a plain band? maybe when the hangover healed he'd ask you <3

[gaysindistress]

Things Simon Riley says

Masterlist

Nothing.

This man is silent all of the time.

It’s unsettling.

You almost think he’s mute because of how eerily silent he is literally all of the time.

(You had also thought he was deaf so you attempted to sign really badly and John lost his shit laughing. “He can hear just fine love. He’s just an arsehole.”)

John is your personal translator for the first few months and can somehow read Simon’s expressions while you slowly figure it out.

Which leads to the first time he does speak around you.

Simon, his voice hoarse and low from no use, greeting you for the first time as he walks into John’s house, “good ta see ya.”

Simon shaking his head and chuckling at your wide and startled eyes.

Simon slowly saying more and more to you, sometimes it’s a simple, “how are ya today?” and other times it’s your name in that baritone gruff voice that heats up your face.

Simon grumbling at Johnny when he attempts to sit beside you at dinner one night, “no, move.”

Simon glaring at him and uttering the simple two words again.

Simon quietly saying, “food’s good,” to you as you all finish your meal and you nearly choke on your food thanking him.

Simon correctly the guys when they refer to you as ‘John’s neighbor’, “she’s got a name. Use it.”

Simon barking out, “10 more laps for that shit” when they’re all doing PT and Johnny pops off about how he might ask out “John’s cute little neighbor.”

Simon sending you a text one day that reads “dinner tonight? I’ll cook.”

Simon making causal conversation as he methodically prepares ramen for you two, the hulking man taking up your entire kitchen, “How long ‘ave ya lived here?”

Simon blocking you entering the kitchen when you try to clean up with a stern , “no sit down and eat. I cooked so I’ll clean up.”

Simon keeping your weekly dinners up for months until he has to go on a mission and before he leaves the last time, he places a kiss on the corner of your lips while whispering “I’ll be back. 6 months tops. Take pictures of everything you make and we’ll make together when I get back.”

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

mentions of: vaginal sex, size difference

no thoughts, just how i imagine simon riley’s body. he is a large beefy man, muscular torso that’s littered with scars with his inked arms. his body would soften slightly after each mission from the cooking that you, his sweet wife made. his stomach would soften slightly allowing you to cuddle him even more comfortable. large calloused hands that are usually rough, but soft when he touches you, like he wants to protect you from the harshness of the world. he would have a happy trail, hairs trailing down to his v line where his pants would bunch up around the crotch area for obvious reasons. he was a big man, which meant everything was big. his cock would be thick and heavy in his hands, weighing it down slightly whenever he fisted it. veins running along the sides of it, his fat tip leaking with precum, slightly pinkish due to its sensitivity. it curved slightly, to the right, allowing it to hit every single sweet spot of yours. simon loved to use his strength to his advantage, his large muscular body on yours, his hips slamming into you as the sound of skin slapping filled the room. he fucked you like an animal, low grunts leaving his mouth as he fat cock abused your soppy cunt. it was endearing how small you were compared to him, your body trembling with each thrusts as he splits your cunt open. you were like his own personal fleshlight, whimpering with each thrusts whilst he gently cooed. “come on luvie, i know you can take it,” he grunted as his biceps flexed, pinning you down to the mattress as you took his cock. “just lay there ‘n look pretty yeah m? i’ll do all of the work.”

[sangwookisser]

ACQUAINTED | SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

cw: grumpy! simon x bratty! reader, smut, breeding, unprotected sex, fem! reader, no use of y/n, qued, not beta'd

synopsis: simon's hooking up with a civilian volunteer in his squadron who keeps giving him mixed signals

"F-fuck! Simon, t-too much!"

He's got you folded in half with your knees almost completely pushed against your ears, while he holds you open by your plump thighs, his cock splitting you open.

He takes his time, each inch of his thick cock stretching your gooey walls with deliberate slowness. The wet, obscene squelches of his cock filling you and bottoming out slowly fills the room as he thrusts so deep inside you that your mind is starting to feel foggy.

"Hm. look at you." Simon grins, his voice smooth and soft like he's speaking to a lover. "Want me to leave you alone, you said? Could have fooled me, lil lady. With the way your greedy little pussy's sucking me in like she's trying to swallow my dick whole."

You nudge his hands off your face and push your arms are over your face to hide the way that it's contorted in pleasure. Showing him how good you feel won't do anything but prove how he's won against you yet again. He grunts in annoyance when you hide your face, and he draws back...

Withdrawing until just the tip of his cock remains nestled inside you, he slowly, torturously pushes back in until your pussy and guts stretch obscenely around his girth, wet, squelching sounds filling the room.

"Fuck... s'fuckin tight... you can hide all you want." He murmurs, still thrusting into you slowly. "This pussy knows the truth. Knows who it belongs to."

"I d-don't.. mmh! belong to you, idiot!"

Simon pauses at your words, almost amused at your backtalk. He likes when you give him attitude. Gives him a reason to be mean to you.

He pushes your legs open impossibly wider, nearly bending you in half with your legs up against your chest.

"You keep saying shit like that like it's going to get me mad." He laughs softly, before groaning with pleasure. "Maybe I get off to brats, pretty little thing, did you ever stop to think of that?"

You bite your lower lip so hard that it hurts to hide any noise you're making. If you lifted your head, you'd see the faint outline of his cock in your tummy and the way your pussy struggles to accommodate his size, and the look of rapt fascination on his flushed cheeks.

He pays no mind to your attempts at modesty, too focused on the wet, sloppy sounds of his cock churning up your insides. He sets a slow, punishing rhythm, pulling out until just the tip remained inside you before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt with a filthy squelch.

"God... this pussy does dangerous things to me, y'know that? lil pussy's is soaking my cock," Simon taunts. His cock churns up your soaked, velvety walls with each roll of his hips, your pussy clenching around him like a vice as you desperately attempt to adjust to his size.

You’re shaking, fingers curling into fists in the sheets underneath you. You’re not sure how much more you can take. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks in a low, taunting murmur.

"Bet you're worried about me creaming in this hot little pussy, huh?"

Your head finally leaves the crook of your arms to stare up at him in disbelief. Your whole body locks up, heat flashing through your tummy. "Yo-you wouldn't, I w-wouldn't let you," Simon uses the opportunity of you moving your arms to grab both your wrists in one hand and pin them over your head, his free hand still holding your thigh.

"Yeah you would." He snaps back, almost aggravated at your tone. "You'd let me. You know why? Because you want me. You're just too damn proud to admit it."

He notches the tip at your entrance, slowing his thrusts, before slamming forward and forcing his girthy shaft deep inside you. "Look," He moans, looking at your tummy bulge. "You've got my cock poking outta you. Think your tummy'll bulge like this if i put a baby in you?"

"S-shut, mngh up! S-simon... m-more... f-feels so good" You moan out, but this time, he forces you to keep eye contact, and his gaze flicks between the way your small, fluttering hole stretches wide to accommodate his length, and the way your face is scrunched with tears tracking your cheeks and your lips raw from biting as he shoves his cock in you. 

"Ha... d-don't tell me to shut up, like you're not the one moaning and crying like a bitch in heat." He retorts. The lewd, sloppy sounds of your cunt being split open fill the room as he impales you repeatedly, not stopping his thrust until his swollen, heavy balls rest against your ass.

Simon continues his relentless, sloppy assault, each thrust accompanied by the most vulgar noises. The obscene slap of skin on skin echoes through the room as he fucks you with deep, purposeful strokes. Your body jolts with every impact, tits bouncing lewdly as you try to stifle your cries.

He changes his angle slightly, and your tummy coils up tight into a knot as you feel your orgasm come crashing down, your back arching sharply off the bed. He knows he found that sweet spot deep inside you as your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

Simon focuses his thrusts there, grinding against it with every push forward, determined to make you fall apart completely on his cock, and you let out a final strangled cry as you cum around him.

He rocks you through your orgasm, still hitting that gummy spot that makes you sing so pretty that his heart throbs. 

"I want you to stop... ngh... playing games with me," he demands, voice serious. A bead of sweat drips down his handsome face. "I'm taking what's rightfully mine, and you're gonna accept and be my lady, you got it? No more cat and mouse." He thrusts real deep at his words, like the thought of being closed off makes his blood burn hotter. You jolt, crying out loud. You feel his swollen mushroom tip kiss your cervix. He stops there, watching your orgasm continue to crash through you.

Your pussy, now overstimulated and sloppy from your recent orgasm, throbs with sensitivity. "S-simon, please, please, it’s too much," You cry out, and he coos at your pretty sounds, ignoring you. 

"No. We stop when I say we're done." He continues. “This pussy belongs to me now. You belong to me. Say it. Say who’s pussy this is.”

Your sloppy cunt swallows his thick cock over and over, your lips, swollen, clinging to his cock tightly. Squelches and sloppy lewdness fill the air as he plows into you, each thrust pushing out a fresh gush of your cum. The creamy ring of your hole stretches and bulges around his girthy shaft, struggling to contain the thick cock splitting you open. "Ah! Yours, Si! Y-your pussy, I’m yours!" 

He could feel your cervix fluttering against the tip of his cock, the spongy flesh yielding to his pounding. "That’s my girl, baby. All mine," He grunts one last time as your womb clenches and ripples, ready for the hot cum he was going to pump inside you.

He lets out a strangled moan as he empties inside you, balls twitching as he fills you to the brim with his cum. It’s thick and creamy and never ending, and his head lolls, hips still pumping as he fills you up good.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your ragged breathing, the distant hum of the city beyond the windows. Your body is still trembling, skin fever hot and slick against his, and yet he hasn’t moved an inch. He’s still there, stretched out on top of you, pinning you down.

Simon turns his head, smirking at the dazed, wrecked look on your face. He reaches out, running a slow finger down your jaw, tilting your chin up so you have to meet his gaze. His pupils are still blown, his mouth swollen from kissing you earlier, but he does it again anyway, his cock twitching inside you as he tastes you, lips molding over yours so good that your heart jumps.

He pulls back to rest his forehead against yours and look at your shining eyes. "One step closer to makin' you my wife, baby."

[7s3ven]

tatted! simon motorcycle shenanigans

TATTED UP! Simon Riley who lets you turn him into a colouring book. He doesn’t care how you colour his tattoos, he just wants to see the scrunched up look of concentration on your cute face.

“What colour do you want?” You murmur as you glance at your numerous eyeshadow palettes. Simon wants to say black or grey but he sees the way you eye the pink palette for a moment too long.

“… Pink.” He finally answers, his gaze focused solely on your bright smile.

You find joy in colouring his arm with various shades of pink and purple as he watches. “Look, so cute.” You murmur, eliciting a low laugh from Simon.

“Yeah.” His voice rumbles, “You wanna colour the rest in?”

BONUS

“Aye, LT, you got your tattoo redone or what?” Jonny can barely hold back his laughter as he looks at Simon’s arm. The previously edgy tattoos were now adorned with feminine colours and glitter.

“No. Just making the misses happy.” Simon doesn’t really care for his teammates’ reactions because the memory of your smile is enough to block out Jonny’s cackles.

[cupidsworstcrime]

Pretty in pink <3

Simon x reader

Simon and his balaclavas mean the world to me

His old masks were dingy, unravelly, and way past saving. So, he'd gone on Amazon, browsed through some options, and without thinking too much, he clicked "buy now."

What Simon hadn't realized, however, was that in his half-asleep state, he had misclicked. Instead of a neutral dark grey or some muted military shade, he had somehow ordered pink.

The entire team had gathered around the table in the briefing room, papers and plans scattered before them. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley was sitting at the far end, looking as intimidating as ever with his usual skull mask on. His posture was stiff, his gaze unwavering, but something was off. Something was... pink.

Soap was the first to notice. He grinned, unable to hold back his amusement. "Ghost," he called, eyeing the unmistakable color, "you get a new set of balaclavas, mate?"

Ghost glanced down at the balaclava in question, which was definitely a bright, unapologetic pink. His face remained neutral, though there was a slight twitch of irritation in his eye. "No," he grunted, his voice as gruff as always, "it's just the lightin' in here."

Price raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "The lighting, huh? So, that's black then?"

"Yeah," Ghost replied flatly, "perfectly black."

Gaz, sitting across from Soap, leaned forward, struggling to hide his smile. "Uh-huh. Sure. Black. Couldn't tell, what with that... neon glow."

Ghost narrowed his eyes but didn’t budge. "You lot are just seeing things. I ordered black ones. You all need glasses."

Soap snickered, nudging Gaz. "Aye, 'cause I can definitely see how you’d mistake that shade of pink for black. Real easy."

Gaz couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into laughter. "Mate, I think the pink suits you, honestly. Never thought I'd see the day Ghost went for a fashion statement."

Ghost’s scowl deepened, but his voice remained steady. "It's not pink. It's... it's fucking black. And I don’t want to hear another word about it."

"Right," Price said, drawing out the word with mock sincerity. "We’ll just pretend that's not glaringly obvious."

"Exactly," Ghost snapped, tapping his fingers on the table. "Now, can we get back to business? Or are we just gonna focus on my bloody headgear?"

The entire room erupted into chuckles, but Ghost held firm. No one was going to make him admit that, yes, he had accidentally ordered pink balaclavas. He wasn’t that soft.

The lads had just settled into a booth at a local pub after a long mission. The mood was light, laughter floating between them as they cracked open their pints. Simon was perched on the edge, still wearing that unmistakably pink balaclava, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone who dared to look too closely.

"Alright, Ghost," Soap leaned in, voice low but filled with mischief. "I think that thing might be glowing now, mate."

Simon shot him a glare that could’ve cut glass, but before he could retort, someone—you—approached the booth they were at. You were confident, beautiful, and your presence seemed to fill the room, effortlessly. As you walked past their booth, your eyes caught Simon's, and you paused for just a second.

"Hey," you said with a warm smile, "I just wanted to say... that I really like the mask. It’s really refreshing to see a man not afraid of color."

Simon blinked at you for a moment, his usual stoic expression faltering just slightly. He hadn’t expected that. He expected teasing or ridicule, not a compliment. But damn, you were gorgeous, and something about the way you looked at him made him feel a little... lighter.

For a split second, his mind went into overdrive. But before anyone could notice, Simon's well-trained mask slid back into place. "Well," he said, clearing his throat, "I’m not some bloody coward when it comes to standing out. This, uh... this is for a good cause. Breast cancer awareness, yeah? Thought I’d do my part."

The table went dead silent as Simon, the man who would rather face down an entire army than talk more than 4 words at a time—lied through his teeth, all while giving you a soft, confident grin.

You tilted your head, clearly charmed by the response, your smile widening. "That’s honestly really admirable," you said, your voice dripping with sincerity. "It’s not every day you see someone putting in the effort for something meaningful."

Simon smirked, his eyes twinkling now that he had the upper hand. "Yeah, well, someone’s gotta do it, love. A'yway," he leaned in just a touch, his voice dropping lower, "how about you come over to the bar with me? Let me buy you a drink, yeah? I’m sure I could convince you that ’m more than jus' a pretty mask."

You raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by his sudden switch from gruff to charming. "Oh, I’m sure you could," you teased back, playing along. Your heart skipped a beat, the sudden rush of attraction clear as day.

Meanwhile, the Task Force was still silent. Price, Soap, and Gaz stared, slack-jawed, at Simon. Just ten minutes ago, he’d been berating them for even mentioning the pink balaclava, claiming it was anything but what it was. And now? Now, he was leaning into his charm like he had been wearing that damn thing for years.

Soap finally broke the silence, unable to contain the laughter bubbling up from his chest. "Oh, bloody hell, Ghost," he chuckled, shaking his head. "You’ve got to be kidding me. Not even five minutes ago, you were ready to bite our heads off about that mask, and now you’re using it to flirt?"

Gaz just shook his head, laughing under his breath. "I’ve never seen someone change gears so fast."

Price just sighed, taking a sip of his drink with a knowing look. "Well, I guess we’ve learned one thing today. Ghost will say fuckin' anything to a pretty thing."

Simon, now fully leaning into his newfound charm, threw a wink at you, the mask giving him an air of mystery, but his intentions were clear. "Well, love, what do you say? A drink at the bar? I promise I’m better company than I look."

You grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. "Alright," you said, taking a step toward him. "I’ll take you up on that offer."

And just like that, Simon was back on top. He shot one last glance at his team, who were still utterly dumbfounded by the transformation, before rising from the booth and offering you his arm, his charming confidence carrying him effortlessly now.

[shinoko-oshi]

size kink with Simon

Size kink with Simon was less about sex and more about presence. About contrast.

Didn’t matter if you were skinny or curvy, tall or short— Simon without a shadow of a doubt would still tower over you, broad shoulders blocking out light, hands that could engulf your waist like nothing. He’d still look like an ogre compared to you, thick, hulking, entirely too much.

And that’s just the way he liked it.

Liked knowing he could pick you up with no effort at all, toss you over his shoulder or lift you straight off your feet just to carry you to the couch. Liked sneaking up behind you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your middle, squeezing you close until your feet barely brushed the floor. Liked dropping onto the sofa with you tucked into his lap, arms locked around you as he pressed lazy kisses to your temple, your cheek, your jaw, anywhere his mouth could reach.

Liked when you complained about him stealing sips from your drink or bites off your plate, accusing him of ruining the ratio with that massive mouth of his. “A sip for you is like a gulp for me,” you’d pout, and he’d just chuckle, proud of it. One bite for him was three for you, and he’d do it again just to watch you roll your eyes and nudge him like it did any good.

Liked getting into your car after you’d driven it, tugging the seat back so his legs could even fit. Liked sitting in his own car after you’d used it and realizing it was still adjusted for you. Seat pulled up tight, rearview tilted down, and not fixing it right away, just sitting there, taking a breath. Liked sniffing the air and catching the faintest hint of your perfume lingering in the fabric of the seatbelt.

Liked seeing you pad around the house in nothing but his shirt and a pair of underwear. Liked that you had to tie the drawstrings on his sweats so tight just to keep them up on your hips. Liked how ridiculous and perfect you looked swimming in his clothes, always too small for him but too big for you.

It made him feel huge. Made you feel his.

And really, that’s all it came down to.

[redtsundere-writes]

You fucked up. Big time. You were known for your silly pranks around base. Today, you decided to prank boyfriend!Ghost by pouring some salt, instead of sugar, on his tea. Whenever he is the victim of your pranks, he would just glare at you as you laugh. But not today, he just came back from a stressful mission, so he wasn't in the mood for a “silly prank.” You felt the terror settled in when he stood up from the table.

Ghost chased you down the halls as you screamed your lungs out. People gave you weird looks but understood you perfectly when they saw what you were against. You looked everywhere for a place to hide until you found Soap's office.

“I'll give you 20 bucks if you let me hide under your desk” you begged.

Soap didn't have any idea what was going on, but 20 bucks were 20 bucks. “Deal”

You crawled under his desk like a sneaky rat. Soap rolled his desk chair forwards to completely hide you. Shortly after, Ghost came into the office.

“Where's she?” Ghost growled.

“I don't know what are you talking about” Soap shrugged, but Ghost quickly called his bluff.

“How much did she offer?”

“20” Soap said quickly.

“I'll give you 50”

And just like that, Soap folded. “Under the desk”

As Soap rolled away from the desk, you felt your heart sank. “You bitch!”

As soon that traitor left the room, Ghost peeked under the desk and dragged you out of your hiding spot. He forced you to sit on top of the desk. You attempted to get him to spare you this time by giving him the sweetest of smiles.

“You think you are so funny, don't ya? You owe me something sweet now.”

Ghost pulled his mask over his mouth to kiss you. As always, you melted under his sweet touch. Your heart ran faster than it did on the chase. You smiled against his lips with between the soft pecks. His hands settled on your hips to keep you in place while yours explored his chest. His lips were still salty from that sip of tea, but you didn't mind it, you loved kissing Ghost no matter what.

“We are even now.” You said, pulling away slightly to look at him in the eye.

“Nah,” Ghost smirked before kissing you again. I guess you had to accept your punishment this time.

Masterlist.