#Simon Riley can't drive

[mactavishenjoyer]

Soap, doing an oil change for ghost:"why's the oil blue?"

Ghost:

Soap, who realized what ghost did:"si-...oh god"

Ghost, who put windshield wiper fluid where the oil goes:"the holes should be labeled!"

Soap:"THEY ARE!"

[hyperfixiation-station]

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Information Pt.2

Apprehension

TW: Torture, graphicish violence, angst Summary: Backstory time >:)

A Study in Torture, Rescue, Rehabilitation

3 months, 27 days ago

You grunt softly, hoisting yourself over the wall and dropping near silently to the ground. You cradle a fractured wrist to your chest, cursing Ghost and his inability to fly a helicopter. 

“Hang on kid!”

“I’m trying!” 

“Shit! Ghost you’ve got to level the chopper!”

“I’m! Trying!” 

“Don’t let me fall, MacTavish!”

“Y/N!”

“Oh my God.” 

“Ghost you have to turn around!” 

“I can’t!” 

“Y/N!”

You shake your head, breaking out of the reverie. Focus, you tell yourself. You creep silently through the enemy encampment, sticking to the shadows. Your eyes dart back and forth, constantly scanning your surroundings for danger. 

You crouch, moving behind a tent as voices sounded from in front of you. You watch as soldiers walk past you, sighing in relief when they don't seem to notice you. That relief is short-lived however, as cool metal is pressed into your back.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Heavily-accented English sounds from behind you. The man holding the gun pulls it away, then slams the butt of it into your temple. You don’t even have time to respond before the world goes dark. 

You come to in a dark room. Grunting, you try to sit up, but stop when spikes of pain flare through your wrists. Your head spins and you look down, blinking sluggishly. Your eyes widen as you finally notice that you are handcuffed to a table, hands up above your head.  

“Good morning, pretty bird.” Slightly Russian-accented English sounds from behind you, “about time you woke up.” A man comes into view, and though it takes you a few seconds, you recognize him. 

“Colonel Kravchenko.” You mutter, tongue thick and heavy in your mouth. 

“So you know me.” You say nothing, just follow him with your eyes. He sighs softly, moving next to the table you are strapped to.

“So, Y/N L/N. You know, you really should not be in enemy territory with an I.D. on you. As it is, I now know pretty much everything about you, including the fact that you are a member of an...elite team I have been hunting.” He double checks your restraints as he speaks, circling the table and stopping by your side. 

“Being as such, you have information I want.” He grins, “You can give this to me the boring, easy way, or you can let me have fun.” 

Fear coils in your belly, but you do not let it show. You are a trained, battle-hardened soldier, and you will not give up your team for anything.

“Well, pretty bird? Are you going to talk to me?” You remain silent, watching him. He grins sharply at the silence, almost eager. 

“Good. I hate the boring ones anyways.” He moves out of your line of sight, returning with a covered cart next to him, “There are a few rules we’ll have to go over before we start, of course. But we can introduce them slowly, I don’t want to…overwhelm you. The first, and most important, is that you will address me as Sir whenever you speak.” You snort, rolling your eyes at that.

“You think that's a funny, pretty bird?”

“A little, yeah.” You snark, trying to hide your fear.

“Sir.” He says, annoyed.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t.” 

“You are a soldier, no?” You nod instinctively, confused at the turn in conversation. 

“It would be a shame for you to never be able to hold a gun again, wouldn’t it be, pretty bird?” he croons. He slides his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers. If you weren’t concussed, maybe you would be able to guess what he was about to do, but your brain is foggy, thought process muddled. So it comes as a surprise when he jerks his hand up, forcing your fingers back. There is a crunching noise as your bones shatter, fire lacing up your arm. He squeezes the broken fingers and you scream. 

“Pretty bird, you and I are going to have so much fun together.” The man laughs, letting go of your hand, “Now, we’ll start off simple. What were you doing in my airspace?” You say nothing, teeth clenched, eyes watering. He turns his back to you, flipping the cloth of the cart. You watch through blurry eyes as he pulls something from it before flipping the cloth back over. In his hands is a towel.

“I’ll ask you one more time. What were you doing in my airspace?” You say nothing, just stare at him. He smiles, delighted by your decision to play hard to get. 

“Your choice, pretty bird.” He drapes the towel over your face, obscuring your vision. You panic, breaths coming in rapid bursts at the inability to see anything. You calm down slightly as the towel is flipped down so you can see again, still covering your mouth and nose. You blame the concussion again for not being able to put two-and-two together, but you are confused until he returns, bucket in hand. 

You squirm pointlessly, trying to get away. The man simply chuckles, pouring the water over your face. You hold your breath for as long as you can, but eventually you exhale, gasping as your lungs demand air. Immediately, the wet cloth is sucked to your skin, suffocating you. You panic, no longer able to control your breathing as you inhale sharply and gag at the water running down your throat in a vicious cycle. 

Though it feels like hours, you are only under the water for about a minute before the cloth is pulled away. Your body heaves as you choke, gasping greedily for air. 

“What were you doing in our airspace?” You say nothing, just sob softly. 

“Have it your way, pretty bird.” The cloth is placed back over your face and the water is poured again. And again. And again. 

~~~~~Meanwhile~~~~~

“Bloody hell.” Ghosts snarls as he brings the chopper to a rough landing. He jumps out, followed by Soap and Gaz. Price stands in the hanger, waiting for them.

“I heard.” He says solemnly as Gaz opens his mouth, “They are sending men out to look for them, and it took every favor Laswell has ever owed me to get us sent out.” He turns on his heel, not bothering to check if his men were following. He leads them to a briefing room, slamming the door shut behind him. 

A map of the enemy territory is projected on the white board, upon which Price draws a small red circle. 

“This is our best guess as to where they landed. We have received no communication from them since they fell.” He pauses, sighing softly, “Officially, they have been marked K.I.A and this is a body recovery. Unofficially, this is a rescue op. We don’t lose hope until their body is on the table in front of us, okay?” 

“We are rolling out tomorrow.” He continues, “So get to the infirmary, get checked out, and get some sleep.”

Sounds of agreement echo from the room, and Gaz and Price exit, leaving Soap and Ghost alone in the room.

“Not your fault Johnny.” 

“Not yours either Lt.”

Neither of them believe the other. The guilt lays heavy in the room, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. The minutes drag out for hours as they sit in stony silence.

"If anyone can survive out there, it's Y/N. We'll find 'em." Soaps voice trembles slightly as he breaks the silence. Ghost nods in agreement.

"Lets hit the rack." It's not a suggestion. They walk out of the room side-by-side, both thinking the same thing.

My fault.

 Soap still holds the glove that had slid off your hand as you fell from the chopper. 

Okay question. When you finally get rescued do we want major PTSD or only some PTSD?

Also do y'all want more torture scenes or do you want the rescue?

[random-thot-generator]

Ghost decides after one blind date that you're going to be his.

>>>>>

Simon isn't used to dating. A quick hook up in the loo, sure. A drunken one night stand? He's had too many of those to count. But proper courting? Hell, it's been years, maybe a decade, since he's taken a bird out on an actual date.

It's probably going to be a disaster, but he gave Johnny his word he'd go out with his bird's best friend, so he can't back out now. He'll just have to grit his teeth and power through it.

His sour outlook for the evening is forgotten the second he sees you walk in with Johnny's bird. You're no tipsy tart on the pull, like the birds he's used to dealing with. You're a proper lady, dolled up nice for your date with him. It makes his chest feel tight when he gets a good look at your pretty face and nervous little smile.

His usual gruff manner is obviously not going to fly with you, so he quickly tries to recall the mannerisms he's seen his captain use around women. He gets to his feet with Johnny when the two of you reach the table, trying his best to look less intimidating.

Johnny introduces the two of you, and Simon melts inside when he takes your soft little hand in his for the first time. His brain goes fuzzy, dark eyes glazing over, and he's not sure what he says when he greets you, but it earns him a smile.

"It's really nice to meet you, Simon," are the first words you say to him.

Your voice is soft and sweet, and the way you say his name? Oh, he's gonna need to hear more of that, and often.

For the first time in a long time, Simon's worried about what someone thinks of him. He's worried he'll put you off with his harsh manner. So, he minds his words and gentles his tone. He slows his steps to match your pace and tucks your small hand at his elbow to keep you close and safe. He's holding doors and pulling out your chair. He compliments your dress and hair.

And when your heel catches on the sidewalk and you stumble, he doesn't bark a laugh or say something mean, wouldn't bloody dream of it. No, he catches you before you fall, and all that softness in his hands makes something shift in his brain. You're such a fragile little thing, delicate as spun sugar. You need a big nasty mutt like him to protect you, take care of you, and he's more than willing to do the job.

When the date is over, Simon sees you home, and you kiss him on your front stoop. It's not all groping hands and tangling tongues. It's a gentle press of lips, his big hands cradling your face, the sweet intimacy making his eyes flutter shut. He's floating when he finally gets back in his truck and drives himself home.

Instead of going to bed, Simon begins to formulate a plan of strategy. He figures it'll take a few more dates before you invite him into your flat, and several more after that before you invite him into your bed, then eventually into your life. It might take months, even a year or more. That's alright, though. If his years in the military have taught him anything, it's patience.

Simon knows how to play the long game. He'll go at your pace, let you get used to having him around, then make himself indispensable to you. No one will treat you as good, meet your every need and desire the way he will. He won't stop until he is your world, your reason for being. Your everything.

And when enough time has passed, he'll claim you completely as his. He's going to put a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly, then tuck you away safe and sound in one of those cute country cottages he looked up online. You'll be his little missus, and he'll be your tamed beast, keeping his teeth and claws hidden but at the ready.

By the time he arrives at your flat the next evening for your second date, he's already got your engagement ring in his safe at home and the names of your future children picked out.

And when you text him the day after to invite him for dinner, the new name he replaced yours with pops up on his screen.

It says 'Missus Riley', of course.

-

[empresskylo]

of fucking course simon riley has your location on. he needs to make sure you're safe. likes to keeps tabs on you. he says he’s completely normal about it, but that is a lie--he obsessively checks it.

and he knows all your common locations: your apartment, your friend’s place, the grocery store, the target you like to go to. so when he sees you at a random address one evening, your little marker on the map not moving,--meaning you’re not just driving past--he raises a brow. he immediately texts you. and when you don’t respond, he’s calling you.

and when you don’t answer… he’s in his truck faster than he thought he could move, beelining it straight for your mysterious location.

and when he pulls up in front of someone’s house, watching as you walk out the front door, laughing at something the man trailing you says, he’s furious. he was worried you might have been hurt. in a sticky situation. but cheating on him didn’t even cross his mind.

he storms out of the truck and you look at him with a gasp. “simon? what’re you doing—?”

“who the fuck is that?” he demands, gesturing to the guy behind you.

“simon…” you say exasperated. “i told you yesterday I was meeting up with friends to plan her bachelorette party.”

his eyes soften slightly, but he’s still reaching for you, hands wrapping around your arms. “doesn’t answer my question.”

“this is her childhood friend.” he glares over your shoulder at him, like he doesn’t believe you. like he wants to kill him. “her gay childhood friend.” you add, hands on your hips, a little annoyed he’d embarrass you like this.

when he hauls you into his truck, he takes a few beats before he apologizes. “m’sorry, love. you weren’t answering your phone and when i saw you at some random—“ he stops mid-sentence as he glances over at you in the passenger seat, expecting you to be glaring at him, ready to tear him a new one. but much to his surprise, you’re taking your shirt off.

“what’re you doing?” he asks, his hands tightening on the wheel to stop from reaching over and touching you.

“that was the hottest thing you’ve ever done,” you whisper, a little embarrassed to admit it. but protective simon? the simon who was ready to beat a guy up just for making you laugh? yeah, that turned you on even if it shouldn’t.

he’s thankful it’s nighttime so no one driving past can see you topless in his truck. he’s also thankful the roads are rather empty this late on a weekday.

“wait till we get home, yeah?” he asks, his voice strained.

you shake your head. “simon, please,” you whine. “i can’t wait.”

he groans in his throat, knowing your place is only 5 more minutes away. he’s already hardening in his pants, and he’s tempted to pull over and drag you into the back seat. but he doesn’t. instead, he reaches his large hand and slides it over your thigh, his eyes on the road as he pushes your skirt up. and you bite your lip, holding back a moan as he rubs you over your underwear. “so fuckin’ wet,” he says astonished.

you buck your hips up and he almost laughs. you weren’t kidding, you really couldn’t wait. he slips his fingers past your panties and dips them into your heat and you grab the door of the car for support, shutting your eyes. he starts a steady pace, his fingers making obscene sounds as they fuck you. you groan and mewl and simon worries he might not make it home either.

it takes you just about a minute to climax, your heat pulsing rapidly around his two fingers, earning a growl from simon. “fuckin’ hell, love,” he breathes, amazed at how fast and hard you came. loving that it was all because of him.

he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex and he’s storming around to your side, trying to get you to put your shirt back on, desperate to get you inside. he hauls you over his shoulder, his hand resting on your skirt so no one accidentally gets a free show. “naughtily little thing,” he hums to himself. “can't wait to properly punish you.”

cod masterlist

[boowritess]

simon 'ghost' riley who says you guys can't be in a relationship because he's emotionally unavailable.

simon 'ghost' riley who doesn't stay the night because he's afraid you'll get too attached.

simon 'ghost' riley who tells you he's just using you for your body. that's it.

simon 'ghost' riley who says you're nothing too him but a toy.

simon 'ghost' riley who says he's too cold hearted for you.

simon 'ghost' riley who says he's too old for you.

simon 'ghost' riley who claims he's just a shell of a man.

simon 'ghost' riley who says he'll ruin you.

simon 'ghost' riley who says you're too sweet for him.

simon 'ghost' riley who says he'll hurt you.

simon 'ghost' riley who says he's too dark and demented for you.

simon 'ghost' riley who says he's too broken to be in a relationship with you.

...

simon 'ghost' riley the fucking liar

...

simon 'ghost' riley who was pussywhipped the first night with you.

simon 'ghost' riley constantly messaging you when he's deployed. 'good mornings' and 'good nights' every day without fail.

simon 'ghost' riley who was gentle the first night together.

simon 'ghost' riley who spends most of the night cuddling and soothing you.

simon 'ghost' riley who barely even has sex with you most nights, preferring to just being in your presence, existing.

simon 'ghost' riley who goes straight to your home after deployment and falls asleep on your couch.

simon 'ghost' riley who treats your body like a temple - always putting your pleasure before his.

simon 'ghost' riley who indulges in whatever your interests are. even if he's deployed. that singer you like? got tickets for you and a friend. favourite food? there's an uber order on the way. you said you like those shoes? it's at your front door. that book you're currently obsessed with? bought the rest of the serious and the limited edition hardcovers. tattoo you want? money sent.

simon 'ghost' riley who makes sure you're eating and drinking right.

simon 'ghost' riley who remembers the tiniest details you've told him. so he makes sure you're taking necessary medication at the right time. reminds you of appointments.

simon 'ghost' riley who couldn't sleep after your first argument.

simon 'ghost' riley who was destroyed when he saw you cry.

simon 'ghost' riley who admitted that he was in the wrong.

simon 'ghost' riley who apologized first.

simon 'ghost' riley who's nothing but sweet to you.

simon 'ghost' riley who never left your side when you got sick and tended to every little thing you needed.

simon 'ghost' riley who drives you wherever.

simon 'ghost' riley who does the laundry because you hate it.

simon 'ghost' riley that can't stop holding your hand.

simon 'ghost' riley who prefers being with you than anyone else.

simon 'ghost' riley who realizes he couldn't live without you.

simon 'ghost' riley who said i love you first.

a/n: ew this was so sappy. i just wanted to call him out for being a liar lol.

[amaranthinespirit]

simon riley who fucks you as tears roll down your face because you're on your period and your cramps are hurting too much.

he came home to see his lovie writhing on the couch, flushed features contorted with discomfort and your hand clutching your stomach. he frowned, his keys dropping with a klink into the ceramic bowl by the front door. he knew the pain that plagued you, he was no stranger to it. he just wants to make his lovie feel better, he doesn't care about the mess; he's dealt with worse, he claimed.

"nothin' i can't 'andle," his tone was heavy with affection and reassurance as he tugged at the waistband of your shorts—hidden under the baggy shirt you wore that belonged to him.

he stuffed a towel he fetched from the laundry basket by the couch under your hips per your request. he knew you'd feel guilty for leaving a mess—even if he couldn't care less. he just wanted you to forget your worries, only thing he wanted you to think about was how good his cock felt sinking deeper into your aching cunt.

the relief that slowly took over your body as you painted his cock red, not even reaching the base. he doesn't force himself all the way in, he doesn't need to to make you feel good enough to come on his thick cock.

fingers digging into the fatty flesh of your hips as he rocks his hips into your sopping, sensitive pussy. there there, lovie, he's gonna make you feel better. no need to feel embarrassed, it's natural, lovie. let him take care of you. he's got you now, he's here.

his pace is restrained, taking gentle care of your aching muscles with the roll of his hips. his abs taut with every slow and deliberate thrust while his other hand rubs the tender flesh of your lower stomach. the warmth from his rough, calloused palm unknotting the tension in your tissue, eliciting another hiccuped moan from your pink, swollen lips. your soft sobs of ached pain turning into breathless sighs and whimpers, occasionally interrupted by a soft jolt of a hiccup. don't cry anymore, lovie, he doesn't like to see you upset.

he found it endearing as he kissed the stray tears away, the saltiness soaking into the fabric of his mask that he hadn't had the chance to pull off just yet. he quietly shushes you, his breath warm against your ear before his head fell to your shoulder. the somewhat scratchy material of his mask itching against your skin before he reaches to pull it above his nose so he can press chapped kisses to your paled skin.

a thrill flutters through his body when he kisses your pulse, feeling the racing heartbeat through the pink flesh of his lips. a low hum slips out from the back of his throat, the sound vibrating through your skin.

"tha's it, lovie," he cooes into your hair, inhaling the faded scent of your shampoo. his hips pressed further against yours as his cock buries deeper into your cunt, nearly kissing your cervix. the mewl that escaped from your lips loud in his ear as he eases himself deeper. he can feel your gummy walls desperately clenching around him, "good girl, lemme take care of ya."

that's it, lovie, you're doing so good, letting him take care of you. his hand presses down on your lower abdomen like your own personal heating pad. his hand is large enough to seem like one.

everything seems to muddle together—the feeling of his cock driving into you and feeling like it's splitting you in two, despite his gentle approach and only fitting just over half his length into your weeping pussy. the feeling of his calloused fingers digging into the fat of your hips, the skin turning white under the pads of his fingertips. the feeling of his warm palm against your lower tummy, rubbing circles along the skin with his thumb occasionally slipping down to lovingly caress your sensitive clit. the feeling of his cracked lips on your delicate skin to further coax you to an orgasm.

he can hear the way your moans change, the way you clench and tighten around him in a desperate attempt to chase the oncoming high he's giving. he doesn't change his pace—he slows down.

his hips slowly drag out of your cunt, driving back in with the same, newly slowed and agonizing pace that leaves you whining. the knot in your tummy building further as you squirm under him. it builds, and builds. his breath heavily against your skin, only being pulled tighter as your arms wrap around his neck in attempts to make him move, but he doesn't.

instead his thumb finds your clit again, toying with your sensitive bud with a pinch as your hips buck under his hand. you can hear the breathless chuckle in your ear. he's not trying to tease you, lovie, he just wants to drag out the pleasure! be patient, lovie, you'll get what you want. he promises.

"good girl, takin' it so well." he praises endlessly, cradling your small, tense body under his relaxed, toned one, "gonna make y'feel all better."

arms wrapped around him like a vice with the feeling of premature waves across your body as the knot gets tighter in your lower tummy. mumbling incoherent whines and pleads in his ear as you're one push from falling. just let him push you over the edge, lovie, come on. enjoy it.

the sound of his name on your lips cuts through the mostly silent air, he feels the shudder of your body under his mass. fuck, just like that, lovie, take what you need. he rides it out, his hips rocking slowly to prolong the ecstasy.

"shh, lovie, v'got ya," his voice heavy against your skin, muffled into your neck as his breaths come out labored.

you're all better now, lovie, you did so good.

[konigsblog]

Simon Riley is the type to smoke while eating you out. 🚬

“Attagirl, deep breaths f’me.”

The thick and noticeable smell of tobacco and liquor fills your nostrils, your head thrown back at the addictive sensation between your supple thighs. Simon nips your skin with his sharp canines, his head between your thighs, breathing deep into your pussy before rolling his warm, wet tongue over your slick folds. His boner aches inside of the tight confines of his boxers, leaking pre-cum while he devours your soaking, drooling cunt.

He takes long drags from the cigarette held between his two thick, calloused fingers. Your whines mewls cause his dick to harden and twitch, the sound of your pleasure driving him utterly insane. Your sweet, familiar, and comforting taste lingers on his lips, mixed with the taste of alcohol when he presses his lips against yours, scoffing at your desperation and greediness. Simon can't get enough of your lazy, desperate reaction - how drunk you are off of the pleasure and ecstasy. You lay there on his leather couch, in Simon's apartment, grinding back and forth against his face needily.

”There we go, princess. Rock those beautiful hips- Good girl.” The gravelly and hoarse sound of Simon's voice leaves your thighs trembling and shaking, your orgasm inching closer with each stroke he makes with his tongue. Simon can feel as his boxers become sticky and damp with his white fluids as he continues, too addicted to your taste to stop himself. He rubs his hard bulge against the couch, his nose pressed into your pussy while he dips his tongue into your slit, appreciating your sweet, delicious cum on his tongue.

Fuck, Simon could spend the rest of his life between your thighs, smoking a cigarette, and taking proper care of his beautiful girl.

[aeplern]

YOUR BOYFRIEND SIMON RILEY

olderboyfriend!simon who waits for you in the parking lot of your campus, waiting for your last university class to end. a wide grin on his face as you enter his car, he leans in and kisses your forehead. “you alright, kid?”

olderboyfriend!simon who drives you back to his place, his large hand on your thigh as he listens to you explain about your day. “and then my friend dylan was like-“ he cut you off almost immediately, “wait, so is dylan a girl…or?” - “dylan is a guy, obviously. back to what i was saying.”

olderboyfriend!simon who seems to tune out the sound of your voice, his mind wandering elsewhere…thinking about this dylan guy. ‘pfft, i shouldn’t get myself worked up over this guy.’ he thought.

olderboyfriend!simon who heads up to his apartment with you, your hand in his as he unlocks the door. “so... tell me about this dylan guy, you've never mentioned him before.” — “oh— well, he's just a friend from class, nothing much.”

olderboyfriend!simon “hopefully.” he would mumble, a slightly stern expression on his face as he looked down at you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “tell me about your day, without dylan!” you smirked, looking up at your boyfriend who was getting himself worked up over a younger boy. you then wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him softly on the lips. “i can't believe you're jealous of dylan.” — “who said i was jealous hm?” he smirked.

[dmitriene]

cw: reader is a ghost, simon is a messed man, really strange making out.

simon ghost riley knows there's something living in those damned walls of his apartment, something haunted, barely able to catch in his rough grasp, you, who mess with his already fucked up head so cruelly, giggle with giddy sounds reverberating around the place, in his ears, driving him mad, stealing his things, sometimes hiding, sometimes as if taking them with yourself, giving back only after a couple of days, if not weeks.

he's not the one to believe in ghost's, not while it's simon's second name, but you aren't a human, he hears you, knows you're all around his place, never leaving, so he's forced to accept this reality, where you float at the night in the dark corners of his bedroom, humming, cooing a melody he can't understand, but it's cloaks him to sleep everytime he's back from a long deployment.

simon notices that you ain't leaving even when he dissappears for month, but you settle quietly for a time when you notice that he's snappy, always alerted, sleeping with a knife under his pillow, so you don't mess with him, even though he can't do anything to you, somehow, it's unpleasant to see him so broken, that's why you let him rest, sitting in the walls and corners, just waiting.

you only take matters into your own hands when simon hasn't been out of bed for a week, except to warm up a quick meal and wash his face, despite that even such a short routine is difficult to him, so you've planned to comfort him, to encourage him to do something, getting out late at night and floating gently to his bed, where he sleeps, sprawled on his back, not even flinching when you settle on top, straddling.

trailing your fingers over the curve of his cheekbones, turning dark at where stubble had outgrown just like his hair, inkept, because he couldn't make himself look in the mirror more than a couple minutes to shave, as your touch descended lower, his lips open slightly, some old, raised scar hiding there along his skin, pale with age, and then you touched again and again, studying his features, both rugged and delicate, before stopping at the waistband of his pajama pants.

you can't take them off, not in your haunted state, but you can play with simon, your touches feeling like a blow of a cold wind, insistent, piercing, making him flinch, thick eyebrows knitting over his eyes, eyelashes quivering, awakening with each glide of you, as you rolled your hips, seated right over his crotch, his eyes finally breaking open, adjusting not to the pitch darkness of the room, but the glow of you in front of his lidded, hazy gaze.

exposed in your strange existence, to the point where he can count your every bone through the transparent shell of your ghostly body, your ribs, hips that straddle around his own, nothing between your legs, except unfamiliar, burning warmth, the curve of your breasts, a little smile playing at your lips, sharp, teasing, it's not nice, and either ain't bad, but what's matters the most is that he can feel you.

simon's hand cupping the round curve of your hip, tugging, feeling both the sharpness of your bone and a coldness of the shell, barrier that holds it all in, and you gasp, eyes wide open, shocked, glancing over at where you can feel the heaviness of his touch, rough and calloused, making your spine shiver, your hips squirming, body pressing down on him, and he groans.

your existence is something he can't quite comprehend, but you're warm, been patient with him, and nuzzled needily at him while he slept, so perhaps, he should give you what you wanted, a chance for a little game, his hand holding you down roughly, pinning against his crotch, cock swelling warm and throbbing beneath you, eliciting a hushed, echoing keen from your mouth, as he cups a tentative palm where your pussy should be, digging, and you react instantly.

arching with curling toes, swell of your ass perched out, squishy when his fingers trail over there, sinking in, making you slump forward over his sinewy chest, curling your clawing fingers in his shirt, and you know that simon is not just a man, but someone that can touch the death, his fingers sinking somewhere deeper into you, so easily, without resistance, making your body tremble as if alive, and there's more for you to know about him, after.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[skyrigel]

Rigel ☆ Immortal ∞ I crave delicate necks, haunted words, and crimson of life †

[ In my dream I was eating your heart ]

Simon 'ghost' Riley Masterlist

Serial killer!Simon x fem!reader [ 18+] violence, gore themes, sexual themes, possesive!ghost, blood.

Simon gets a call from sleepy!gf while he's at work.

Simon comes home to you, with bruised knuckles and a heavy smug grin.

Simon loves you but he has his own secrets, like the man in the basement.

Miserable! Simon Riley meets sweet! Missus

Clingy! Simon Riley wants your attention

Shy! Simon Riley meets pretty! missus.

Period rambling: Simon being best bf

Take a look at my gf trend with Simon [ 18+]

Simon who takes care of himself for you

Biker! Simon x wife!reader having riding lessons [ 18+ ]

Simon doesn't give a fuck but for you, he's a mother hen

Simon Riley and how I met your mother [ 18+]

Simon discovers Mrs.Riley's choking kink [18+]

Mrs. Riley is such a tease in her red dress, Simon teaches a lesson [ 18+ ]

Simon who can't say no to you

Simon being Sweetheart and Mrs. Riley being drunk in love( crack drabble <3 )

Brother's best friend! Simon x f! reader [ 18+] one para → pinked

Simon who doesn't want a relationship but for you he might try

Simon who says no attachment... until you're sick [ Suggestive themes so 18+ ??? ]

Grim Reaper! Simon Riley x f! Reader

Drabble 1: Simon wants attention

Drabble 2: Who's the clingy one ?

Stay with me [ 18+ ] [implied safeword uses ]

Sleeping beauty [ 18 + ] Somnophilia

Bet it does [ 18+] [ Overstimulation]

Period rambling again: soft! Simon

Simon who lives alone, reader who wouldn't leave him alone ://

Omega!reader makes a nest

Driving Simon crazy by saying his name[18+]

First kiss with Simon ft. Asshole ex

Shower sex with Simon[18+]

Simon who wants only you [ suggested themes ]

Sarcastic Simon x nurse!reader

Good night thought: best moment of his life

Giving Simon handjob [ 18+]

Simon who blushes

Oblivious! Simon and oblivious! Reader

Retired! Simon and neighbour! Reader

Non English! Reader and Simon (✿⁠)

Reversed trope: possessive reader

Simon with acne

Simon is not his father

Simon's mate crashes in ft. Soap [ghoap x u ]

Reader sending a text to Simon :)

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[lovelyghst]

simon riley with a virgin!gf would be such a sweet, softhearted bully. always making an effort to be so gentle with you, never pressuring you past a prolonged kiss or some touches between layers of fabric, only to turn around and relentlessly tease you in passing.

simon riley and his addiction to subtly dragging a hand up your thigh when you're in public, whispering sexual remarks in your ear to get you all hot and flustered at the worst of times.

simon riley thought the reason he worked you up so much and so often was to get you begging for it, but was proven terribly wrong when he finally broke through your reserve and even he couldn't believe the words that came so surely from his mouth.

"not yet, baby. wanna make sure you're ready for me when the time comes, otherwise you’ll end up hurtin’ yourself."

simon riley adores watching you touch yourself. whether it be from right by your side as he guides you along, or from the entrance to your bedroom as you missed his texts telling you he’d be home early. he just loves to see you struggling to finish, getting all frustrated and embarrassed when you can’t do it yourself, prompting him to reassure you that everything’s alright before he’s taking over.

simon riley allows you to use his thigh or abs to get off only when you really need it badly, which you'll need to be in tears to prove most often. it's cruel, maybe, but reticence is necessary.

simon riley will urge you on as you rub your clothed cunt against his flexed muscles, even grabbing your hips to help you finish when you lose energy and begin to slow your movements. laughs when he bounces his leg to make you lose balance and yelp, but pouts in sympathy when you whine 'cause he ruined your high.

simon riley never lets you use his crotch to get off, though, as he can't promise his own restraint after a certain amount of your whines. it's the only time the soldier feels grossly weak, and you could never seem to figure out why it’d be such a bad thing.

simon riley gives you his mouth at most, and that's only after weeks of your pining and pleading for the next step. he just had to taste you before he went mad, but nothing more. he adores your innocence far too much to take it away it so soon.

the first time simon riley eats you out is nothing short of a warm mess. he tries to take his time—and he did, bringing out every word of praise in his vocabulary as you gradually got more comfortable—but once he started with the real thing, he couldn't hold himself back.

his thick and hot tongue laps at your pussy as his eyes quickly turn dazed, big inked arms wrapped around your soft thighs to hold your sensitive frame down. you can't tell that he's just slightly grinding himself down on the bed since you're instantly entranced in watching him show you what you've been missing out on for so long.

you don't notice how severely his cock strains in his pants with your mind only able to focus on the knot in your stomach, and how pretty he looks with a slick-covered stubble and drunken smirk. he makes you come on his tongue once before the moment is quickly cut short, your blissful whimpers and raw taste driving him to mutter a sharp swear under his breath and abandon you for the restroom.

you're left on the bed alone, distraught and worried you'd done something wrong, completely unaware to the fact he's fisting his cock with gritted teeth and an unruly pace only a door away.

heavy breathing filling the space, his mind running on all the possibilities for how he could just take you right now, apologize for everything. christ, he should just give you what you want and his poor cock throbs at the prospect, but what kind of man would he be?

he bites his tongue, muffles his groans, and spills himself in his palm with clenched eyelids and fists. absolutely shameful, but bound to happen. you hear the sink run for a moment before he's returning without a single trace or reason for his disappearance. he reads the guilt on your face and soothes you with a kiss to the forehead.

"sorry for the wait, lovie. wasn't very fair of me to leave you like this, now, was it?" and you can only shake your head, tears spilling over.

and finally, simon riley with a virgin!gf who will spend the rest of his day making things up to you: resuming his services with a newfound patience, showing you all the best ways to touch yourself for when he's not there- or for when he is there, because as he reminds you often, he won't be able to take his sweet girl's virginity for a long, long time. for your own sake, of course <3

[bunny-jpeg]

daughter dearest

simon 'ghost' riley

cw: smut/pwp, implied age gap, price's daughter!reader, daddy kink & daddy issues, simon still works under price, doggy style, hair pulling, a tiny bit of choking, manhandling

bunny says: good girls end up in heaven, bad girls end up with simon

he was so handsome in that sleek black car of his. with the tinted windows, you could see that he was in the driver's side as there was a bit of cigarette smoke coming out from the open window.

you were quick to get out of the house that you lived with your father. you had a night bag over your shoulder. in a cute little skirt and an even cuter top. you were the beloved daughter of captain john price.

but tonight, you were simon's good girl.

you and simon started up a "relationship" around the christmas party last year. it was harmless flirting. he was stubborn and you got right under his skin. of course this ended with him tossing you into the back of a jeep on base and fucking you until you couldn't even form your own name.

since then you've been simon's pretty little thing with an age gap to raise an eyebrow out.

the drive to his flat wasn't long, but the entire time under the cover of night, he had his large hand on your thigh. he palmed at the skin and muscle. his fingers dug into them, which made you whimper from his strength.

scary.

but simon would never hurt you. even as he kept a protective hand on your lower back. his lips were on your neck with you pinned against the wall of the elevator. only to pull away when the doors opened to let in more people.

there was little formalities when you both got through the front door of the flat. even as you tried to undo the laces of your shoes, simon was over you with his large hands on your hips and his cock up against your ass.

"you dog." you whined as you managed to get them off.

when you were standing back upright, you felt the strength of your boyfriend's chest against your back. then soon his strong hand was loosely around your throat.

you whimpered.

"whatcha call me, princess?"

you whimpered, 'sorry, daddy." you didn't want to hear about the long stretched of absences your father did when you were going up made you seek out older men to pleasure you. you didn't care to know!

he held your throat for a moment then leaned in to kiss your jaw, "good girl. i'd hate to take you through training again."

your daddy issues to culminate into a bratty attitude, especially around base. simon had to 'train' you, which meant everything from spanking to time outs. it meant having cum covered panties and giving his head in public bathrooms. you'd behave, simon hated brats.

he always felt the need to break 'em.

you were a good girl for him, most of the time. so when he picked you up like you weighed as much as a bag of potatoes and tossed you on the bed in the bedroom.

you bounced on the bed before simon was on you, he pulled at the clothes on your body. you managed to get your phone out of your pocket before he started to almost rip your clothes off your body! you felt your cheeks heat up from the feeling. you were stripped bear and grabbed by the hair.

he gave it a good yank and you felt wetness between your legs. you felt like such a whore, but part of you loved when being strong men used you to their pleasing.

"your daddy isn't going to like when i bring you home and ya got cum runnin' down your leg. when ya walk a lil weird and can't sit down. make sure your old man knows what i've been fuckin' his sweet little princess."

you whimpered as you ended up on your hands and knees with your ass in the air. your core throbbed as he got his cock out his thick black jeans. it was a hefty cock. thick all over with breeding balls.

his cock was shoved without much prep into your slick hole. you jumped but his larger body kept you pinned to the bed. his cock felt like a heavy weight between your legs.

your buried your head in the pillows and arched your back. you entire body felt amazing from the feeling of his thrusts. your cunt ached with want for your boyfriend.

"that's my good girl. see, maybe m captain is right. maybe he does have the most perfect daughter in the world." simon's words were harsh but they made you warm all over.

"daddy please." you moaned as you felt him slap you across the ass. your body felt hot all over as he continued to fuck you. this wasn't sex, this was fucking. he was pushing all of his length, stuffing you full of him.

so you'd know when you gave your old man a hug, that a piece of simon was still in you.

you'd be a riley soon enough.

"please, ah! please!" you whined.

"i got ya, princess." his pace was brutal, it almost brought tears to your eyes. it made your stomach twist and your cunt soaked.

you soon could hear your phone ringing on the nightstand, but simon's cock had made it impossible for you to find the strength to grab it.

"who's that, love?" simon asked in a gruff voice, "is that your old man callin'? better pick up." he held you by the waist and leaned over you to grab it. it was still ringing.

you took it with weak hands and answered it, "hi, daddy." you tried to keep your voice steady but the way your core was throbbing from simon's heavy thrusts.

"where are ya?" your old man asked.

"oh! remember, i told you i was staying with a friend tonight." you tried not to moan or seem like something was off. your father was painfully smart, it was hard to get anything past him.

"right, right. that girl you go to school with? tiffany? rachel?"

your voice was a little tight when you replied, "andrea." you felt simon pull at your hair which almost made you cry out, but you just had to keep it together for a little while longer.

"right, right. well, ya got a ride home to come home?"

you swallowed and bent to simon's will, "yes, daddy. i'll be home around 2!" you squeezed your eyes shut

there was a pause, "are you alright, sweetheart? sound a little sick."

you grit your teeth for a moment, could the old man just stop yapping? you replied, "no, daddy. i think i'm just really tired. we- we went for a hike earlier, just worn out!"

simon gave a silent chuckle as he continued to thrust, worn out was right. he wanted to slap your ass, but you were squirming enough as it was.

"alright, i'll see ya tomorrow. remember to come home early enough so we can have dinner together. love ya."

'love you too, daddy." you voice cracked a little as you felt yourself on the edge of your orgasm. you hung up the phone and you looked over your shoulder, but simon pushed your head back into the pillows to fuck you into the mattress.

"that's a good girl." simon growled, "i know he's your father, but i'm your daddy." he bruised your hips with his feverish pace.

you arched your back and clutched onto the covers tightly. your head was pounding as you felt the pulse of warmth through your body. your mind was a mantra of his name. "fuck, daddy!"

simon chuckled and slammed his hand down on your ass, "that's what i like to see, princess. i love how you feel against me. tight cunt, thick thighs, chubby hips, my fuckin' dream."

you whimpered as you tensed up. you climaxed and as you reached your peak. everything else went dark in your head before you ended up face first in his soft bed. the smell of your lover was polluting your head as he had you bouncing on his cock.

"now that's a good girl." simon purred, "now let's give this cunt what she be needin'." with a few more jolts of his hips, he finished inside of you. his cum spat into the back of your womb with purpose.

he wanted to see it leak out all over your pretty pink panties come morning. but that might take a few more rounds.

"look alive, princess." he said as he tapped your face a little harder than you liked, "not done with ya, yet."

but you had all night.

-

the next morning, you came home and greeted your father with a kiss on the cheek and a cheery smile. when you went upstairs, price though he caught the glimpse of a bruise on the back of your thigh, right where your skirt ended.

but he looked away rather quickly and crossed his arms. he said, "glad ya had fun, sweetheart!" he was a supportive father, he loved you! you were his beautiful daughter.

little did he know that under your skirt was two large purple hand prints from his trusted lieutenant. <3

[starboye]

tying loser!simon rileys hands behind his back and edging him to the point of cumming just to pull back again and again until his tip is all red and puffy and he's hard as a rock and just can't think a single thought

every time his head drops you lift it back up and remind him to maintain eye contact or you'll just stop and leave him like this but it's so hard to stay sane when you're driving him insane, your thumb gliding over the slit of his cock and it has his hips bucking up uncontrollably

"hey what did i say, sit still" you demand him and he quick to obey like a good pup, whimpering and whining to let him cum is just such a good look on him, drool falling from his lips and tears welling in his eyes "now who's a good boy" you coo to him, your other hand wiping the dangling saliva from his bottom lips and licking it off your finger

"me i'm your good fuckin' boy" he brokenly moans, his head struggling to stay up to look at you by the passing seconds "that's right si you're such a good boy" you coo once more kissing him

[theorist-fox]

yes simon being a bad driver is canon

[romanticintheory]

now thinking about what it would look like if reader was betrayed by simon. i just wanna feel the excrutiating pain😞😞🙏🙏

nonny u read my mind!!

simon "ghost" riley x reader

-you meet him while you're shopping for new jewelry. your father, instead of celebrating your birthday with you, sent you a stupid amount of cash with the note, "happy birthday. get yourself something you like."

-he was always away for work. what he did, you never knew. your entire life, he had always been distanced from you despite his friendly, loud demeanor. it was like he was trying to make up for his lack of emotional and physical presence with his smiles and money.

-you believed simon riley was different.

-he tapped you on the shoulder when you were birthday shopping, clearing his throat to drown the nerves as he asked you which of the two necklaces looked better.

-you smiled kindly at him and pointed to the one you thought looked better.

-"who's the lucky lady?"

-"just my mum. figured she deserved something nice and i want it to be special for her."

-you both hit it off immediately.

-his quiet, observant demeanor was a breath of fresh air compared to what you had suffered with your father. he was always listening, keeping his eyes on you, or maybe had an arm around your waist when his attention was required elsewhere.

-he was also incredibly understanding of your situation with your father.

-"i dunno. i thought about having you meet him, but he's just always so busy and it always feels like there's no point in asking him."

-"he's that busy? what's he even do?"

-"couldn't tell you. he can't even be bothered to let me know what's so important that he has to basically ignore me my entire life. i mean, i love him, but..."

-"yeah. i get it."

-eventually, your dad catches on that you're dating someone. it's during his once-a-month call that hears a simon's "ow" following a loud thud.

-when your dad finds out it's your boyfriend, he insists on meeting him.

-"need t' get to know him, is all. especially if he's gonna be my future son-in-law!"

-when you tell simon, he gives you an encouraging nudge toward agreeing. it had been almost a year that you were together, and you were still apprehensive on letting the love of your life and the vague outline of your father meet.

-"he already knows. bet he'll keep asking until you give in, so why not now?"

-your shoulders sag in defeat as you realize he's right. so, you text your dad the details of a meetup.

-simon is oddly silent the entire drive to the restaurant. you assume it's nerves. after all, you can feel your own heart beating furiously against your chest.

-when you're about three blocks away from the restaurant, he pulls over on the curb. it's a dark night and all is quiet. for a moment, you think he's about to chicken out and propose the both of you just go home.

-he leans back in his seat and unlocks the car doors. he raises his hand as a signal and utters a single phrase:

-"don't scream."

-suddenly, the door to your seat is thrown open and someone is tying your hands behind your back and your legs together. the entire time, you're pleading, tears gathering in your eyes with a confused look on your face.

-as the last knot is secured on your legs, you hear a deep voice murmuring an apologetic, "sorry. nothing personal." is that a scottish accent? "ghost, price gave the good to go. we're ready for you."

-the soldier looks into your eyes briefly, nods back at simon, and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

-you turn your gaze back to who you thought was the one.

-"simon?"

-still, he refuses to make eye contact with you. instead, he opens the glove compartment and pulls out a balaclava and mask, pulling the former over his face.

-you can't read his eyes when he finally looks over at you, his expression now covered by a skull.

-"don't try to escape. we've got someone watchin' you, so we'll know."

-"why are you doing this?" your voice is cracking, and the tears are now slowly dribbling down to your chin and onto your lap.

-he doesn't answer you, just giving you a hardened, "i'm sorry," before taking your phone from your bag and leaving you in the dark, suffocating car.

-yeah. you believed simon riley was different.

[s1mon-r1ley]

Blue collar! Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Hi!! This is my first fanfic, I’ve recently took up writing so criticism is very much appreciated! :)

Warnings: Smut

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

After marrying you, Simon discharges from the military, leaving the intense life of being a soldier behind and gets a construction job in the small town you two lived in. it's not as adrenaline inducing as his military career, but it's worth it if it means knowing he can always come back home to his missus, neither of you worrying about each other's lives at take. He doesn’t want anything to happen to him after marrying his sweetheart and he certainly doesn't want anything to happen to you for being involved with him. It's too risky.

It's more peaceful, you get to see him more often. Early mornings before the sun rises spent holding each other close, making love, and against his protests getting up to make his lunches. He doesn't want his missus to be tired and to worry too much, but seeing the way you dote over him, being so domestic makes his cock chub up in his work jeans. If he didn't have to leave so soon he'd take you back to bed just to make love once more. “Go back to sleep luv…” he’d whisper softly, wrapping his arms around your middle and burying his head in the crook of your neck. “I need to make you your lunch.” He grumbles something under his breath but continues to hold you. Even if he doesn't like you being too concerned he can't help but hold on to you and just stand in comforting silence.

Nothing is better than mornings like these, holding each other in the darkness, the kitchen so quiet you can hear the buzz of the ac unit and the early morning birds chirping. Nothing is sadder to him than having to leave you home, even if it's only for the parts of the day. Your nails gently carding through his short hair, chests pressed against each other and affectionate words whispered to one another. or the embrace of your gooey warm pussy, and soft arms, your sweet delectable moans, and big teary eyes staring deep into his chocolate iris as you mumble sweet words for him, matching the loving look in your eyes with the sweet praise you give him. But he’s a man bound by his duty and drive to provide for you, his missus. So he has to get ready to leave, but he wants to make sure you're okay before he leaves.

You hate to see him go, but love to watch him leave. Those dirty work jeans that grip his ass oh so tightly. The loose black shirt, the slutty construction belt that hangs around his hips. “I love you baby.” He whispers, holding your waist guiding you back to the bed, his love needs her beauty sleep after all. “I love you too Simon.” Soft words are whispers to one another before he turns off the light to go, listening to his truck engine start before he leaves for work.

It feels like ages when he is away, working hard to provide for you and the soon family that he wants, begs for. Pleading to fill you up full of his babies. “Want to make you a mama” he moans out softly. Pawing at the fat of your hips and presses his aching boner to the lower part of your back.

It gets even worse when he finally gets home, shrugging off his work jacket, not even taking off his steel toe boots before making his way to the kitchen where he sees you taking out freshly baked cookies. Practicing various recipes of his favorite baked goodies just for him. You try to ask him how his day is, but you're cut short by his lips slamming on to yours.

It's not long before you end up bent over the counter, a pretty little sundress bunched up your waist as he pounds into that thick pussy from behind. Groaning into your ear as he thrusts his fat cock in and out

“Oh fuck, oh, simon!” The feeling of his tip pounding into your gooey pussy has your knees buckling, eyes rolling into the back of your head, and nails digging and sliding on the granite countertops. He gets so worked up like this, coming home every day ready to fill you up over and over. It’s something the both of you love, you’re both so needy and can’t get enough of each other. Ready to give him everything he wants.

“Jus like tha’ baby, fuck yourself back on my cock” he groans, lips quiver as he drool on to your shoulder.hes like an animal when hes like this, after a long day he needs hi pretty little missus, her cooking, and her warm pussy to keep him company. That's all he can think about right now, filling you up with his big load of cum, watching your body swell big and round with his chubby little babies, your breasts leaking and full of milk.

“Gonna give me the family I want? Give me my babies? My kids?” you nod, babbling incoherent sentences as he pushes his meaty thick cock into your gummy hot walls, nothing is better than spending his time in your pussy. Like a warm embrace protecting him from the outside world. Your pussy sucking him back in to the warmth and milking hin of everything he’s worth.

He pounds into you for a little longer, then a few quick pumps before he shoots his fat, potent load deep into the depth of your sobbing cunt. Grabbing your hips to push it all in, keeping himself stuffed in so none of his seed leaks from your sopping wet hole. His cock softens but never once leaves your cunt. His balls laying heavily on your clot, rubbing ever so softly on the engorged bud.

He kisses and nibbles your shoulder, moaning softly while muttering about how much he cares for you. He leans up and grabs one of the cookies that was on the tray, taking a bite and humming softly. His missus cooks and bakes so well, your food is something he would die for. Well he’d die for anything from you. The domestic feeling of everything you do makes him excited again.His cock starts to harden once more and he's ready to put a baby in you over and over again.