#simon riley x famous!reader

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Maybe Simon Riley and famous reader?? Like the reader is a singer and dedicates a song to him and we get to see a sort of soft and proud side of him?

I had to actually go through my playlist to find the right vibe for this. Such a sweet request 🥹

Song on repeat while I wrote this is "Just the two of us" by Bill Withers and Grover Washington, Jr. Cover version by The Macarons Project. Listen to the gorgeous cover here

Pairing: Simon x famous!reader

pov: Simon's

Title: To my Love.

"Okay, Manchester, it's almost time for me to close out for the night!" Her voice rings out above the cheering of the stadium. People are chanting encore and begging for another song. She laughs into the microphone, "I love you all, but I most certainly promised someone that I would try and wrap up on time."

There's a shout from somewhere closer to the stage for just one more song, please. She relents with a soft laugh, "Fine, but I'm thinking a new song for the city that has my heart."

There's more cheering and backstage, Simon tilts his head to the side because he understands the double meaning. His girl is always saying in interviews and on hot mics that her heart is in Manchester, England. She's not even from here, and when people ask about her own hometown, her smiles turn shy and sweet. She never says what or who she means, choosing to keep their relationship private. It's for her safety and his peace at mind.

Sure, he doesn't do the award shows, the public facing red carpets, and he blends in as one of her body guards; but her inner circle knows who he is and sees the two of them behind closed doors. He's a little shocked at the mention of a new song. He knows every lyric that gets written down in the little song book he got for her.

She looks off stage towards him and bless the smile she gives him. It makes his stomach flip and flop, and he knows that he is smiling like a love struck fool. The corners of his eyes crinkle, and the surgical mask on his face shifts, a clear indication that he is smiling back. This woman makes him feel things he hasn't in years. She kisses his scars, holds his hand with a grin, and every time she says his name, it's like hearing an angel whisper to him. He's not a praying man, does not believe in God or karma, he's lived too bloody a life for those thoughts, so finding someone to love him was never a possibility.

Yet here she is getting ready to debut a new song that she just told him was written with only him in mind. No other hands have touched this song, and it was written for him, and she's singing it as a public declaration of her love for him. The sentiment makes him ache in the best ways, turns him into puddy.

"What is that girl doing?" Her manager hisses, "did we approve of this?" She's fussing with a stage hand demanding to know what track is about to be played. The DJ cues up the music. It's a sweet swell of music. Light on the ears, there's no producer tag, no booming base, or 808s. The flip from high energy to sweet melodies instantly calms the crowd to silence.

Yeah, this wasn't planned. It's in the same vein as their relationship, unplanned and sweet. Simon didn't mean to fall in love with her. It sorta just happened. What was supposed to be a favor for a friend of John's, just the team providing extra security for some starlet, turned into a miracle.

She sings about him, sweetly. A true love song. She sings about loving someone at their best. She sings about loving the ugliest parts of someone. She belts her heart out on the bridge, words about finding true love and knowing that it won't always be easy. Her voice cracks, warbling on lines about broken people and loving them and slowly putting them together again, pretty gold holding the pieces together.

By the time the song is over, the longest and shortest four minutes in his life. And to think, someone wrote about how they loved loving him for four minutes, him of all people, he's got tears in his eyes. His body is moving before he can process it. There are people calling for him to stay backstage. He thinks he hears one of his teammates, and he doesn't know or care. All Simon Riley can see is his girl, his song bird, the mask is off and he's pulling her into a kiss.

There's distant cheering he is sure of that. The audience probably thinks that this is staged. It's not. Her manager will probably try to spin some silly narrative to the press and all of her fans. Whoever is on lights earns their paycheck because every light except the spotlight on them goes out.

And then slowly even that light fades, too, to the sound of thunderous applause.

ngl...I'm crying. Thank you anon.

[simonbrain]

it settles deep into his chest—the love he has for you. he depends on you more than he'd like to admit, always by your side no matter what you're doing, his large, warm hands resting on your hips while he watches you complete the most mundane tasks over your shoulder.

it eats at him, the need to devour you whole, bones and all. he barely masks the snarl on his face when he catches a whiff of your scent, calloused hands twitching as he holds himself back from squeezing your soft skin the way he wants to, his jaw clenched as his mouth waters at the thought of sinking his teeth into your neck and shaking his head like a dog with a bone.

while he doesn't want to hurt you, there's no way he can love you without being a little rough. a little mean. it's not in his nature to love someone so gently; all the softness has been beaten out of him by the cruel hands of life.

that doesn't mean he won't try, though.

you kiss him so sweetly, with soft lips pressed to his, and he learns to relax into the kiss instead of pawing at your thighs, eager for more. he learns to control the urge to swallow you until there's nothing left and settles with pecks on your mouth until you're giggling.

you cling to him while you nap together, and he learns to melt against you and let go of that paranoia, the voice in the back of his head hissing at him that something will go wrong if he falls asleep.

you cup his cheeks when you sense him retreating to the dark corners of his mind, thumbs caressing over the scars and looking at him with the softest gaze he has ever seen anyone spare him, and he learns to reel himself back in. there's no trail of the hate or disdain he was expecting, no judgement whatsoever; just concern and warmth on your sweet face.

while he learns from you how to be gentle, you learn from him how to be greedy. you want him to consume your very soul.

you're not afraid of him tainting you. you're not afraid of the hands that have murdered countless people. you're not scared of the way he looks at you sometimes, like he's trying to engulf you just with his gaze alone, or the way he grabs at your supple body, like he's trying to merge with your being, or the way he kisses you, like he's trying to steal every bit of air from your lungs and hoard it for himself.

he's learning how to love you the way you deserve, but if you push back against him, taking something for yourself instead of being his sweet, thoughtful girl? if you bite back at him with more cheek than he's used to? if you kiss him back with more teeth than sweetness? he won't complain.

to know that you crave him as badly as he craves you? it sets his heart ablaze.

you always manage to surprise him, teaching the old dog new tricks.

[pfhwrittes]

i'm thinking about a transmasc reader that can't wear a binder. maybe they tried but the binder is waaay too small. or wearing a binder is a sensory nightmare. or they have back/shoulder/neck/chest issues that make wearing a binder a complete no go. and then i was thinking about how the 141 would help their transmasc sweetheart with dysphoria.

for ghost it's easy. no matter how big you are, his shoulders and chest are always larger. he'll chuck a surprisingly soft zip up hoodie (with the labels meticulously removed) at you and won't say a word when you wear it everywhere. in fact he has three just for you (which he will deny deny deny) so he can swap one out when it gets dirty with a clean one. and look, he's not admitting to it but he likes being able to pinch the fabric around your forearm and rub it between his finger and thumb. it's groundin' or summat.

price has no issue wrapping you up in one of his flannels. absolutely deludes himself into thinking it's slightly more mature than him dressing you up in a hoodie emblazoned with his name (it's not, for the record). he loves the way you snuggle deep down into the collar of his flannel and "subtly" sniff the hints of smoke and aftershave that linger on the collar.

gaz is a complete sweetheart and has been waiting to spoil you with a new wardrobe. he's making sure his guy is looking good AND feeling good. new hoodies? check. new shirts? check. new jackets? check check check. absolutely gets a matching set of loungewear with you. also he's not above getting a hoodie emblazoned with "GARRICK" on the back. oh what's that babe, you won't fit into his clothes? say less, he's already got that hoodie in the correct size for maximum comfort for you.

soap is a little shit. don't ask questions about where the giant black hoodie came from or how long he's had it. what's that? it smells a wee bit like his lieutenant? naw, yer dreamin'. what's this about a flannel smelling like cigars? naw, naw he's never seen it before in his life. he definitely didn't steal clothes from price and ghost. haud yer wheest. but maybe fer his dignity don't wear it down the pub with the rest of the team, eh bonnie lad?

[ghouljams]

Another Christmas fic teaser because I'm having so much fun with it

“Not a thought in that pretty little ‘ead is there?” He asks, his fingers gripping your hair tight to pull your head back, you moan your pleasure for him as he gives a hard thrust into you, your bleary eyes focused on the white wall. “Course not,” Simon grunts, a huff of laughter edging his voice, “Would’nt’ve responded to my ad if there was.”

[cyberghouleo]

bodyguard! simon riley x celebrity! reader

To the displeasure of everyone I know, I got cod brain rot.

Inspired by: Celebrity by Slayyyter

When your manager suggested you hire a new bodyguard after your old one quit, you were not expecting a masked man with an accent to walk through your doors. 

At first, he sees you as a spoiled brat. He’s not used to being a bodyguard for someone famous, he is used to being hired as a hitman in more dangerous situations. He only accepted this job as the pay was good and his last job was nearby, but now he feels as if he's being toted around like a puppy, trailing behind you as you go along your normal day to day life.

Everything was a culture shift to him, he wasn’t used to following his clients while they shop or getting asked if you should purchase something, to which he always responded with “if that’s what you like.” He’s not used to sitting at lunch at a nearby table as your friends drill you with questions about him, questions about the mask and why he looked so differently than your previous guards. He was used to being in stressful situations, spending hours researching his client's attacker while being on alert 24/7, now he was just following you around with no immediate threats happening to you. 

While you're doing interviews or getting your makeup done before a photoshoot, he is sitting across from you in a chair with his arms crossed. He keeps his balaclava on and hardly speaks unless someone tries to deny him access behind the scenes with you. He speaks before you can, “I’m ‘er guard.” he grunts out as he keeps walking past them, following behind you. 

Trying to get to know him felt like pulling teeth, he’s standoffish and when he does answer questions, it's always short answers, even refusing to tell you his real name after you asked. You knew almost nothing about him, but that all changed once you’re alerted that your P.O box is being sent threatening letters, claiming to have a hit out on you. Ghost instructs that you are both to not leave the house until he can gather enough info about your threatener, leaving the two of you alone for several weeks.

These weeks alone cause him to slowly start opening up to you as the two of you have nothing else to do or talk about. You learn about his past clients, how this is his first high status bodyguard job, and his time in the military. He tells you bits at a time, not willing to spill too much at one time, almost testing to see how you respond to each bit of new information you learn about him. During dinner one night, he randomly speaks up. “Simon.” 

“What?”

“My name. Simon.”

It only takes a few weeks for him to track and find the person sending you the threats, and he reassures you that everything will be fine now. He doesn’t show any proof, but you trust him enough to believe him. The weeks you spent together did lead to some tension between the two of you, you are able to see a human side of him that you weren’t expecting, and you could feel yourself getting intrigued by what else you could learn about him. You scolded yourself for thinking this way towards a bodyguard, someone trying to do his job, but you also couldn’t deny the way you were starting to feel when you caught glimpses of his arms flexing underneath the tight black shirts he wore often. 

He slowly starts warming up to you and seeing you in a different light once he spends a few months inside your house. You aren’t as bratty or snobby as he expected. He tries to brush away any lingering thoughts as you ask him to help you zip up your dress, noticing how small your shoulders look under his gaze. Or when you ask him to help you put on a necklace, comparing how small your hands are to his when you hand him the necklace. 

The tension finally breaks when you are in a dressing room alone, waiting around as the photographer goes over the photos one final time before you could leave. You can feel him eyeing you up and down while you aren’t paying attention, his eyes studying the dress you were getting paid to wear and the way it hugged you. One offhand comment from you leads to him lifting you up onto the vanity counter, his mask pulled above his nose as his mouth finds yours, soft moans escaping you. Your panties are pulled to the side as his tongue circles around your clit, one hand pressed against your mouth to quiet you, so the staff doesn’t hear you cumming against his tongue. 

When in large crowds, one of his hands is always pressed against the small of your back as he guides you through the masses, the feeling of his touch lingering on your back even after he pulls away. His other hand resting close to the concealed gun he keeps at his hip, staying alert as his eyes scan through the faces to assess any threats. Crowds will naturally part once they notice how big he is and the way he towers over most of the fans.

The paparazzi gets a photo of you two together, Simon holding a few shopping bags as he trails behind you. The photo is captioned as if he was your secret boyfriend and your fans go crazy, tweeting how cute the two of you are together and how mysterious he was.

“Look, everyone thinks we are dating.” You say as you shove your phone in his face. His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the photo, reading a comment on how good of a couple the two of you are. He only hums a response and rolls his eyes. He expects you to have a different reaction, shocked that you didn’t find it annoying but almost enduring. The idea of you being okay with the two of you being in a relationship and not just fuckbuddies ignites something deep in his stomach. 

You definitely talk him into taking a few photos of you for Instagram, instructing him on how to frame the photo as he stares blankly at the phone. When you post the photos, comments flood in asking if your mystery bodyguard was the one who took them. You often post stories with him lingering around in the background, only fueling the relationship speculation as fans talk about him living with you.

After the media starts to report more on the two of you, Ghost starts getting more offers from other celebrities to become their bodyguard. He gives them no second thought as he denies them. He will get approached with offers to pay him triple and he still waves them off, he plans on staying loyal as a bodyguard to you and you only, no matter how much they offer him.

Simon decides to make the two of you official by gifting you a necklace with his initial, something you wear and post about often, sending your fans into a bigger spiral. He finds the fans both amusing and slightly disturbing, showing how much love they have for you, yet you only get to call him yours. 

[veiledwinter]

It wasn't intentional. He had only wanted to get groceries and return to his apartment as quick as he could. He should know he never gets what he wants.

He hadn't meant to bump into someone as he rounded the corner into another aisle and watch her stubble and almost fall back. And he certainly hadn't wanted to grab her arm and pull her into his chest.

She seemed flustered when she pulled away— stumbling over her words as she apologized. She didn't seem at all fazed by their height difference or that he seemed intimidating. It was cute.

But it ended as quickly as it started. He reassured her it was okay then she apologized one more time before wishing him well and walking away.

He felt almost let down? Like he wanted to talk to her more, be around her more. He shook off the feeling. Meeting her was an accident.

Everything after that, however, was anything but accidental. Simon couldn't help but be drawn to her. They've only had one actual interaction and he's already deep enough in her life that he's looking through her therapy files.

He was aware it was creepy but who gives a fuck, he just thought she was cute whats the harm in finding out more about her? In finding ways to run into her at the grocery store? In making sure her home was safe for her because she was negligent with her own safety?

It had gotten to the point where he believed that they were in a relationship. Thought of her as his when he saw her in the canned goods aisle. Followed her home to make sure nothing bad happened to his girl because she didn't pay as much attention to her surroundings as she should.

It's for the better anyway. You needed to be protected and cared for and Simon would always be there for you. It's meant to be in his mind.

[billkaulitzrightvainyhand]

[joandarxh]

You see the appeal of the au of ghost as a knight is like...everything is roughly the same but hes in plate. Like . There is ao much you can work with. Are u a lady in waiting, a servant, or the lady herself.

But i just love arranged marriages with knight ghost they make my brain go brrrr

And it just scratches a part of my brain that looooves knights and the idea of duty and scarifie. Like ghost sees this as a necessary step towards the greatee goal, he has killed ppl he does not care about getting married to someone he doesn't know.

Much to think about

[dawnwriterimagines]

Innocents among you

Part Two to TRAITORS AMONG US

SIMON RILEY X FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 X FEM!READER

Summary: Your torture is over, but is it really? There is only the torment in your mind now. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the flowers at your hospital bed and the tormentors awaiting the relief of your forgiveness.

Part 3!!

Part 4

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

You flatlined twice, almost as soon as you were handed off to the medics.

Committing themselves to doing CPR before bringing in the defibrillator for an electric charge to your sudden cardiac arrest. "Clear!" They restarted your heart just outside the hallway of your cell, Simon held back by Price as your heart stopped again within the same minute and panic ensued. Johnny and Kyle hearing the news, rushing up towards the hall, their footsteps probably the echo that you held onto as your heart rate picked back up.

Clearly, you lived.

You didn't have the luxury of going comatose immediately after. As you would've preferred.

You'd awoken hours after the medical team carried you off to the infirmary. Still on edge, still plagued by discomfort and cold, despite the lights of the recovery facility and the nurses that paraded around you.

Morphine wears off in about 6 hours, so you were up wailing in agony within the same time. Clearly no one expected you up so soon, but you hadn't slept in days, at least not more than an hour. Jerking up involuntarily, hands all over you to keep you down and steady, you could hear a familiar doctor's attempt to calm you down. But, the blistering pain that radiated from every pore in your body was ringing so loud, a present noise that blocked everything out.

So, at first, you'd been terrified, attempting to clutch onto the first thing you'd woken up to. But, you couldn't move, at least not voluntarily.

With the damage to your spine for countless hours, days, and what you had discovered to be two fucking weeks of endless torture, you'd undergone three difference corrective surgeries that would 'possibly' fix the nerve and circulatory damage done to you. It had left you nearly completely immobile since your admission into the infirmary. The doctors were quite astonished that you were even alive...

The nurses were patient enough with your panicked state to slowly ease you out of your stupor. But, at times it wasn't easy, especially when you didn't even know where you were at first. Since you couldn't see...

You were blind for about four days. Everything a tinted red for a few more after you'd regained your sight.

Fevers plagued you for the week, skin that was raw and inflamed from the severe cold and constant dousing from the pipes, you couldn't move if you wanted to.

The first thing you'd been graced to see were the multiple arrangements of flowers, lilies, white tulips, hydrangeas, roses...typical assortments of regret and remorse.

"Can someone throw these away?" had been your first words.

The nurse who had been checking over your vitals looks over at the flowers, the were all over the desk, even on the floor lining the windows, once they ran out of space to put them. It was beautiful. But, she knew why. Everyone knew why. You were quite famous here in the infirmary, as you were in special unit. "Of course."

They were out within the day. The room bare once more.

And then you saw them outside your infirmary window. Just a glimpse. Around the time you were still getting your sight back.

Seeing them for the first time since everything made bile build up in your throat, a screaming fear that created a pulsing headache.

Kyle, Johnny, Price and...you didn't see Simon.

Price was...a statue. Not moving an inch. His hand against his mouth, covering up the aching distress anyone could see on his face.

Kyle was pacing, back and forth and back and forth. Making an offhanded comment at one of them every few seconds.

But, Johnny was talking, pointing spitefully at someone out of your view.

He was there too then. Simon.

Turning away from the window, you couldn't look at them anymore.

"Don't let them in," you breathe out to your doctor as she sets down a trayed mug on your sliding table as she sits you up to drink a hot cup of tea, which you had requested. "Any of them. Please." You were still so cold, you couldn't imagine dealing with any type of cold weather for a while after dealing with this.

She's confused a moment, before turning to the doorway, where she recalled seeing the four men waiting outside in the hallway. She's seen them just sitting there for days now, they wouldn't beg or argue to come in, they'd just wait. It's not like you were cleared for visitors yet anyway.

Every morning she clocked in for the job, there they were. Sitting there like abandoned children, awaiting the moment the door would open to be welcomed inside.

It was like they never left.

Of course she knew who they were to you. Word spreads fast on the base. Especially for a Task Force as 'famous' as they were around here.

Squeezing your shoulder, comfortingly. Feeling protective, your doctor spoke, "Of course," she slides the mug forward a bit, taking the teaspoon to stir once and lift it to toward your lips to sip. "Blow," she guided.

You did. And sipped.

And it was warmer than any blanket they'd wrapped you in.

---

Prior to being able to trudge around on your own, with the help of a crutch you'd been given to go to the bathroom by yourself finally, the nurses had sponged you down in bed. Your spinal surgeries led to you being at risk if they made efforts to remove you from your bed for anything more than a medical emergency.

Mostly, because you're terrified of the showerhead....and it's pathetic, but no one judges you for it as you opt for a sponge bath every time instead. Even if you're shaking as the water slides down your skin even now. The last thing you needed on top of all this was to develop aquaphobia.

Today was the first day you could do it on you own, limping your way to the bathroom with your crutch. The smell of bleach is much stronger in here, it stings your nose.

You stared at the metal stool left tucked at the side, walking around it as if it would pounce up and attack you, you try not to look at it. You'd been doing well without panic attacks for a few days now, just hold it together.

Taking a breath, you reach out to the handle for the spout, glancing up at the showerhead, before back down. Swallowing thickly when you begin to turn it before pausing, hearing the water rush up the pipe to spill out. Turning it back up just as quickly, shutting off the pipe, you inhale deeply, trembling now, hand up to the chilled tile to steady yourself.

You'll try again, you had to.

Drip...

Drip...

Unable to help yourself, the sudden rush of paranoia that runs through you is terrible, a hoarse cry leaves you. You shove yourself away from the shower stall, back ramming into the doorframe, catching yourself, and away from the showerhead as the water drips, slowly from the faucet.

Drip...

Drip...

As panic tightened its grip around your chest, your breaths quickly turned to short, sharp gasps. The room spinning, colors blurring into a dizzying whirlwind. You turn swiftly, nearly knocking yourself off your feet as the thudding of your own heart startles you, you can hear it in your ears, in your hands, in your feet.

You press a trembling hand to your chest, clawing over the area, trying to slow the frantic pace of your breathing, but it only seemed to escalate. The small room narrowing to a black hole of fear and suffocation, every gasp began to disorient you, turning lightheaded.

As tears welled in your eyes, you collapse against the side wall, sliding down to the tiled floor. Slamming your palm against your chest, once, twice, as hot tears leave streaks down your bruised face, you beg your lungs to expand and wait for your breathing to regulate.

Beginning to sob uncontrollably as you hit yourself in the chest again and again and again, waiting for the moment you found yourself able to breathe.

Why did this have to happen?

You remember the violent swing of the baton against your face, the sting it leaves afterwards, the immediate spotting of bruises forming. The memory startles you, receding back into yourself, back to that day.

"It wasn't me..." you cried loudly, in the empty room. It echoes against the tiles.

Simon wrapping his hands around your neck, staring you down as he squeezed, maliciously. You couldn't breathe as your lover shook with the strength he uses to hold himself back from taking your life.

"I'm sorry," you hiccupped. "I'm--I'm sorry," you're not sure when you crawled yourself into the corner, the lights of the bathroom flickering off dimly from your lack of movement. As you're drowned in darkness, the water dripping from the spout, the cold tile against your skin, it's too much. You scramble upwards, running out of the bathroom.

The automatic lights flicker back on inside, but you're too in your head to notice.

Stumbling down to your knees as you feel the rip of a ruined stitching tearing along your side. "Ah!" comes your startled cry. Making it to the side of your hospital bed, you fist your hand through your sheets, unable to stand yourself up.

Taking pained breaths against the sterile sheets, you bury your head in them, cursing whatever luck you thought you had in this life.

They were your family...

All you had for so many years...

As your breathing slows to distraught, agonized huffs of air, sniffling to yourself as you catch sight of your face in the metal frame of your hospital bed. The dark purple bruises beneath your eyes as the swelling gradually went down, the still bloodshot left eye of yours, the twelve stitches on the left side of your face. So gruesome you knew it would scar you for life, a permanent reminder on your fucking face.

Anger bubbled up inside you at the sight of it. At the memory that would always follow when you'd look at it.

Anger that you hadn't been able to properly feel until now.

Anger that you feared to have until today.

"Are you alright?" the sound of his voice makes you visible tense.

Simon.

He's here.

You don't turn to face him, if you did, you'd revert back to the person you were cowering into moments ago. "The door was open...I just--" he pauses, swallowing thickly. "Lemme help you up."

Hearing his footsteps suddenly moving closer, you speak fast. "STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" you scream over your shoulder, tucking yourself further away from him. "Do NOT move."

He stops in his tracks. You catch the sight of him in the metal framing of the bed, he's a blur in the metal, but you notice his mask is gone, he's Simon Riley now, not Ghost as he appeared to you in the interrogation cell.

"Don't you dare get any closer," you spat.

"I heard you," he spoke, carefully. Mouth opening and closing, before speaking again. "But, you don't have to be stubborn. If you stay there any longer you could tear your stitches."

"Whose fault is that?"

Simon shifts his stance on his feet, waits a second. "I know. And I can never begin to tell you how sorry I am for what I did. What we all did to you," he says, quietly. "The intel we discovered...or that was forged, it came from a source we've used a dozen times, (Y/n), we thought it was true. It had to be. We've never been misled before."

"So..." your nails bite into your skin, you make an amused sound, biting down on your lip for a moment, till it hurt. " That's what you came here to say, huh? What you waited days to--. Is this you justifying--"

"No, (y/n), that's not--"

"--why you tortured me, strangled me, stripped me, in that fucking cell, Simon?"

"We had to believe it, at the time..."

"Was I not a trusted source?" you argued. "Had I not proven more than a thousand times that you could trust me? I've fought next to you, laid in your bed, given you my love, my trust, I--" you shook with rage at the time and energy wasted on time family, this relationship, if the end goal was always meant to just be this.. "I thought that was at least half the reason you decided to marry me..." at the mention of your relationship, you could see the way Simon nearly lost his balance, hands coming up to run along his face. "You told me you would kill me in that room..."

"I was just talking, I wouldn't have--" his voice cracks as he whispers, trying to convince.

"When you left, I thought you'd come back to kill me any minute, or Price, to spare you. I waited to die for two days, terrified out of my mind. I wondered about heaven, not if I'd make it... but what it'd be like, what I'd be missing out on," you thought back to your time in that cell, a haunted expression Simon couldn't see. "While you all got a good nights rest, woke up for some bacon and eggs, and listened to the warden tell you that your prisoner was framed...for a crime you'd already punished her for..." you stuttered on your breathing, tears flowing silently.

Simon inhales deeply. "I could never expect you to forgive me. I-I had taken my hurt out on you, I thought you did it, I was so sure. I couldn't hear what you were saying, I just could see the evidence, and I--I'm sorry. I'm sorry, love. I'm truly--" he gets to his knees behind you.

"Get up."

"I can never tell you how sorry I am---"

"Simon."

"I never should've done this to you. If I could ever--" his voice rising with distressed breaths, you didn't have to look at him to see his face a mess of sorrow, tears that would mix into the stubble on his face.

"Simon!"

"--make it up to you. If you could ever find it in your to forgive me, (y/n). I'll spend the rest of my life--" he gets closer, reaching out.

Whipping around, stiffening completely as you feel the graze of his fingers across your skin, "DON'T TOUCH ME!" you shove your back against your bedding, your hand swinging and flying across his face. His head snapping to the side as he pauses, freezing up where he kneels, having completely forgotten your request to stay put. "What's the matter with you! Even now? Even now, you can't just listen to this one thing?!"

"I-I'm sorry..." He looks at you, finally seeing your face clearly and up close since it all happened. Finally he can see the bruises along your face, the blood that fills your eye, the dark bruise still around your neck.

Seeing him. He looks rough. Honestly, he looks terrible. His hair shaggy and falling over his eye. Dark circles with bags under them. Pale, and thinner than he should be.

His jaw clenches with guilt and he averts his eyes, you continue. "How could I forgive you for this?" you stare at him, "I could forgive you, if you hadn't let them chain me up like an animal. If you hadn't watched them drown me for hours, beat me black and blue and left me screaming for days. I could forgive you if you had just believed me even for a moment." you feign thoughtfulness. "How about you look at my face. My wrists. My legs! MY FUCKING SPINE, SIMON!"

"Nothing I can say or do, will ever make any of it ok, I know that. And I can't ask for you to ever forgive--"

"What could I possible owe you in this life, that makes you think I'd even think about forgiving any of you for the things you did to me?" you gritted out, angrily.

Simon's head drops, a slow, shuttering sigh leaves him. "I'll never stop trying to make this right. Never."

"...Get out, Simon."

"I'm sorry."

"Simon."

"I'm so sorry..." he reaches out again.

"Ghost."

He's silent this time, fingers tensing, out in mid air.

"I never wanna see you again."

"I love you, (Y/n)," he confessed, eyes feral and wide. Pulling at the ends of your slip.

"I don't want to hear that, Ghost," kicking away from him. "Stop it."

"I couldn't stop even as it happened--"

"Shut up. And get out," shaking as you sneered at his desperate attempts. "It's over, Ghost."

"And I took it on you. It hurt so much, I couldn't think," Simon's face twisted with agony and remorse. "I'm sorry!"

He was making you lose your goddamn mind, you broke. "GET THE FUCK OUT!" screaming at one another as overwhelming tears escaped your eyes.

---

It's quiet in your hospital room, it's empty now, the door closed this time.

The door knob turns and opens again a moment later. "Oh no, Ms. (L/n)!" luckily it was your assigned nurse, who takes your arm and fixes it around her shoulder before helping haul yourself up to your feet. "What're you doing on the floor? There's a call button for a reason," she scolds as you sit on the edge of your bed.

You're quiet.

Alarmingly so for your nurse, who notices the pulled stitching that creates a line of blood down your side. "If this is about what happened to you..." the nurse started, speaking carefully, pulling a lining of gauze from the side to press to your skin. You don't even wince at the pressure, even when she begins to clean and replace the broken stitch. "Don't let it break you. Not even further than this experience already has..." she says, while through the last stitch and prepping a bandage.

"I've been broken long before this," you whispered, looking towards the afternoon sun shining through your window. "This. This didn't break me, no," you admitted, before glancing up with glossy eyes, rage hidden beneath a profound look of sadness. "It destroyed me."

Her hand pauses at your side, your words startling, turning to see the tear that slips down your cheek. Knowing now how deep your scars were from this, before gently sliding the last of the bandage across your skin. "Do not think you are irreparable. That time can't heal your wounds."

"But, there's always reminders," touching the stitches on your cheek, "some things can't be forgiven."

"I never said to forgive..." the nurse interjected. "If you could, after all this, you're stronger than any woman that could be named."

You snicker at that, humming soundly. "That's an interesting thought. I guess I'm one of the weaker ones then."

"And yet, still the strongest I've ever met," she finishes. Pats your cheek, "click the button next time. Save us both the heart attack."

"Noted," you assured.

As she's prepping to leave for her rounds, you open your mouth, once, twice, before clearing it. "Is it possible, someone could help me out--the water..."

"Of course," the nurse says, quickly. "Don't worry, I understand. I'll get everything set for you."

As she walks away, you breathing out your appreciation, you take a long inhale, swallowing down the heaviness in your chest.

part 3 OUT NOW!!

and if you'd like to support a fanfic hoe in need...would you Buy me a Coffee?

Tag List:

@m3ntally-unstable @dreamsarenicer @ttsbaby01 @theweirdgeninistuff @shelbycillian @azxulaa @kthehoeforfictionalmen @amusling @v1x3n @nobodycanknoww @thesinsoflust @asexualbuthorny @poisonedsultana @blackhawkfanatic @character---obsessed @yunggoblin @teenagellamaangel @hanniebanggi @nym-phos @gastonlover9000 @lyssa-211 @doodle-cat16 @haven-1307 @kneelforloki @delphiakira @just-going-through-the-motions

[tojisun]

my baby swingin’ — simon (ghost) riley

biker!simon (ghost) riley x fem reader

> a bunch of snapshots of simon and his pretty little sweetheart’s adventures.

!! suggestive - minors dni; canon divergence; no chronological order (basically a bunch of loosely-tied worldbuilding); subtle and hinted age difference; reader gets princess treatment because she deserves it so!!

: im the one who’s the most confused as to how my obsession with biker!simon started but im stringing u along anyway so pls have fun!! my inbox is open for brainworms <33

for all posts, pls click on biker!simon tag <33

part 01 - intro post; headcanons

part 02 - simon can’t wait to come home to you

part 03 - getting over your fear of riding a bike

part 04 - lap sitting (a visual); ask

part 05 - simon and your first meeting; ask // extra 01

part 06 - little donuts at the park <;33

part 07 - simon’s instagram account (includes visuals); ask

part 08 - teasin’ each other on their way home; ask; suggestive

part 09 - body worship (a visual); ask; suggestive

part 10 - getting over your fear of riding a bike sequel! (a visual); ask

part 11 - mutual desperation spilling over; smut

part 12 - burning from all these messages; smut

part 13 - scary mask!! (a visual); ask

part 14 - of prince charming and care packages

part 15 - scary ghost? yes. protective ghost? yes <;33; ask

part 16 - safe drive!; ask

part 17 - simon and your first meeting cont.; ask; smut

part 18 - fun times on his bike; ask; smut

-

extra 02 - your nephew’s new favourite adult (a visual); ask

extra 03 - biker!konig makes an appearance!!! (a visual); ask

extra 04 - smack! smack! smack! (a visual); ask

extra 05 - picking up the backpack (a visual); ask

extra 06 - you don’t use it, you lose it; ask

extra 07 - price on a harley; ask

extra 08 - helmet kiss (a visual); ask

extra 09 - ‘girls cum first’ sweater (a visual); ask; smut

extra 10 - tf141 and their shared backpack princess; ask

extra 11 - period cramps and cuddling; ask

extra 12 - of checkpoint videos & dashing men (a visual); ask

extra 13 - no backpacks allowed (a visual); ask

extra 14 - he slipped!! (a visual); ask

extra 15 - her famous luvr; ask (a visual)

extra 16 - keys and kisses; ask

extra 17 - simon announcing his girl (includes visual!); ask

extra 18 - careful now (a visual); ask

extra 19 - they’re friends??

extra 20 - pretty blue lace; ask; smut

extra 21 - dad!simon (a visual); ask

extra 22 - lil smut (a visual); ask

extra 23 - riding on the rain (a visual); ask

extra 24 - girl dad simon; ask

extra 25 - gorgeous and protective (a visual); ask

extra 26 - zip that shit up (a visual); ask | recent!

-

dear john - dbf!simon

↳ for all toxic/dbf simon pls click on dbf!simon tag!!

toxic dad’s best friend biker!simon au; ask; angst + smut

‘dear john’: cont. of toxic dad’s best friend biker!simon au; ask; angst + suggestive

mini cont of dear john; ask

dear john (but it’s john price); ask

dear john (how he fucks); smut

dear john (as illicit affairs); ask; angst + smut

dear john (illicit affairs origin); angst + smut

dear john (illicit affairs origins but as reader); ask; angst + suggestive

dear john (reader moving on); ask | recent!

-

subset 01 - best friend n biker!simon au; ask

subset 02 - best friend n biker!simon au cont.

subset 03 - bimbo!reader

unofficial extra - baker!simon

-

i have a short taglist so pls lmk if you would like to be tagged too ^v^ no more taglist

(updated: 16 march 2024)

[marksbear2]

Can I request a Simon Ghost x an super model male reader. Like a very famous runway model and could it be headcanons thank you papa bearr!!💞

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X MODEL MALE READER

⚠️Could be also gn reader!!⚠️

— He never understands why you date him. You could had have anyone in the world and you choose him. 

— Really loves supporting you and he’ll come to your runway shows every time he has time for it.

— His little secret is that he cuts out your face from magazines to put in his wallet or phone case.

— He has all the power to brag about you. Because his boyfriend, you is an supermodel and he likes to bring it up any time the topic of significant others. He isn’t using you, he just like to mention and brag about you.

— On some occasions he’ll be backstage with you watching you get ready to go out and walk.

— You two don’t have a lot of time together.

— Since military work and modeling are entirely time consuming jobs you two mostly rely online on long distance dating.

— Even when he’s gone at an deployment he’ll be on the phone with you the whole time and most of the time he’s not even talking just doing work while he keeps the presence of you on his phone.

— He loves seeing your photoshoot with brands and companies.

— He’ll watch any commercial of you. He never skips the add and will sit there for how ever long the add is to watch you.

— Since your an supermodel your already famous so whenever you two haven’t talked in a while he’ll search up videos of you.

— Even when you two have been arguing he’ll be watching videos cursing under his breath. 

— Loves taking off guard pictures of you. He doesn’t tell you he loves you often but his actions really shows it even the actions he does it private.

— You convincing him to do one of those couple photoshoots.

— He appears on your social media post. Like his leg will be in the picture or hands. Even one time his mask was just laying in the background of an selfie. Or he was the one who took the picture.

— He’ll sit in the crowd watching your runway shows. 

— Every pet name he has for you compliments your appearance like “Pretty boy.” “Beautiful.” And more he’s not a huge romantic or anything.

— You two making out in a secluded corner before you go out and walk. 

— One time things got to heated and be left a hickey on your neck. It wasn’t any time for the makeup artist to cover it so you just went out and walked with his mark on you.

— At first he felt so guilty.

— Until he would stay up at night thinking about how much he loves marking you, to tell the world and your fans that your taken and owned.

— He shyly brings it up to see if you’ll be into that and if your on board he’ll leave more marks on you.

— Soon it became an trademark and whenever people ask about it you’ll tell them that your boyfriend gave it to you.

— Ghost feels like an teenage girl every time you tell them the blunt truth about how your boyfriend gave it to you.

THE END

[7s3ven]

RETIRED BOXER! SIMON RILEY X BOXER! FEM! READER

( head canons / short one shot )

Notes: a little bloody, age gap (reader is younger), parental issues, cussing

- Simon expected that once he quit boxing and left his career behind him, he would never have to deal with it again. He assumed wrong. He was called back by an old friend, John Price

“I know she doesn’t look like much but trust me, she packs a punch. She’s just like you.” John slid a picture of you forward, showing Simon your bright grin. How could a girl like you be as ruthless as he had heard in the news?

Simon knew what they called you; the female version of Ghost.

- During his prime, Simon was a merciless fighter. He was known for destroying his opponents to a pulp and apparently, you borrowed his methods

- “Come back, Simon. The boxing world misses ya. Don’t you miss it too? Come back and I promise yer, I’ll you the most famous trainer this club has ever seen.” John ambitiously stated, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“Trainer?” Simon questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“You train ‘er,” John tapped your photograph, “And you’ll go down in history.”

- It didn’t take much to convince Simon to return. All he needed to see was you train and he agreed in a heartbeat

- He watched you carefully as you sparred with a teammate. It was supposed to be a mock fight but you were treating it like it was real. Beads of sweat dripped down your neck as you moved without even thinking. You were on a hunt for blood

- Simon saw your eyes light up as your fist connected with your teammate’s nose. Blood dripped down, staining their teeth. But instead of kneeling down and sobbing, they smiled

- “Only the crazy ones go up against her. We have ‘ta put out a warning that if you spar with Y/N, she’ll make ya bleed.” John states. “So, what’da ya think?”

It took Ghost a moment to reply. He slowly nodded his head. “Okay. I’ll train her.”

John whistled, beckoning you over like a damn dog. Through, in the arena, that’s all you really were.

- You were excited to be paired with Simon, aka Ghost. You had watched his fights in your late teenager years. He was an absolute legend

- Despite Simon being a little annoyed John managed to drag him back into boxing, he soon overcame it while spending time with you

- You understood his advice that no one else could. He wanted you to punch harder? You did so until your knuckles split and Simon had to patch you up. He wanted you to practice your kicks? Say no more, you spend all night practicing.

- He wanted you to perfect your signature move? No problem. He just has to be prepared to find you slumped in the corner of the training arena the next day because you refused to leave until you got it perfect

- The line between trainer and trainee blurs when Simon gives you his number in case of emergencies. You call later that night.

“We’re out of Doritos!” You yell into the phone. Simon furrows his brows in confusion, rechecking your contact name.

“Wot?” He mutters in confusion.

He hears you mumble to yourself as you check the number you had dialled. And then you’re back on the line. “Sorry, sir. Wrong number. Meant to call my roommate.”

“You still want Doritos? I got some at my place.”

You pause before speaking again. “You got any Coco Cola?” Simon loudly hums. “I’m on my way.”

- You didn’t fight fair but Simon liked that about you. You bit and scratched like a feral animal and nobody ever punished you for it because you were the crowd’s favourite. And you just so happened to have another favourite as your esteemed trainer. Simon only had to wave his hand and the charges against you for clawing at a girl’s face during a match would be dropped

- It’s not like you meant to develop a crush on your trainer. It just… happened. He was an attractive man and you were only human

- You had the stupid idea of confiding in Jonny, another trainer whom you had formed a close bond with. You expected him to keep his mouth shut but little did you know, he had a knack for blabbing

- Everything fell to shit the day you collapsed. You were a living, breathing replica of Simon but that also meant you overworked yourself. You didn’t remember much of what happened that day

- You had just gotten out of the ring, victorious and listening to the crowd cheer. You remembered how your chest ached and yet you ignored it. The match was difficult which explained the way your legs wobbled in exhaustion

- Your lips were cracked and stinging and bloody spit coated your face. You looked and felt absolutely disgusting. But you didn’t have a chance to clean your face before black dots invaded your vision and it got harder to breathe

- You remember how your head hit the concrete but everything after that was an unknown blur

- You were sitting on the rooftop after being discharged by the hospital when Simon approached you.

“Kid.”

Your jaw clenched at the wretched name. That was all he saw you as; a kid who no longer had any idea what she was fighting for. “Don’t call me that.”

“Y/N.” He corrects himself and it makes you feel a little better. “You want out of the ring? Just say the word and I’ll get yer out.”

- Simon expected you to be like him. To realize that boxing was useless without passion. But when you turned to look at him, he saw the fury in your eyes.

“I ain’t quitting, sir. I don’t quit.”

“I know you had problems with your parents. They pushed you to do things you didn’t wanna. You don’t have ‘ta do this if ya don’t want to.”

“Don’t wanna fuckin’ talk ‘bout them. You ain’t my therapist.” You were more hostile than usual thanks to the stitches in your lips.

- “Kid.” The word just slips and Simon doesn’t have enough time to take it back.

“Call me that one more fucking time!” You exclaim, “I ain’t your fucking kid! I don’t want ‘cha to be my daddy!”

- Something clicks in Simon’s head as he remembers Jonny’s drunken words during a pool match. Jonny told Simon about your crush, unintentionally outing you. No wonder you were staring at him with so much pent-up rage. You were sick of this ‘will they, won’t they’ game

- “Y/N.” He states firmly, “I know how you feel about me. Jonny ain’t exactly good at keepin’ his mouth shut.”

“If you’re gonna reject me, hurry up. I don’t got all day.” He watches as you scowl, so quick to jump to conclusions.

“Who said I was gon’ reject you?”

“The way you’re looking at me right now says it.”

“This is literally my resting face.”

- Simon isn’t good at expressing any emotion whatsoever. But the way you make him feel is different. You brought his love for boxing back

- Before your trip to the hospital, you trained daily per Simon’s request. You thought it was so he could monitor you better. In reality, he just wanted to see you more frequently. He liked the way you laughed and the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled

- “Three words, Y/N. Say ‘I like you’ and I’m yours.”

Simon knows how prideful you are. You won’t repeat after him unless you really mean it.

“I like you.” Surprisingly, you say it. You’re playing with the hem of your knitted sweater and Simon almost laughs at how ironic it is

- You’re one of the most feared boxers currently, always lusting for blood, and Simon has you like putty without even touching you

- You don’t need to speak for Simon to know what you’re indicating now. You want him to kiss you. So he does

- He leans forward, pressing his lips against yours and you swear you feel fireworks go off

- From then on, the line between trainer and trainee ceases to exist. A week later, a picture of you and Simon kissing after your latest match makes headlines

- “Was this all a hoax to get me a date?” Simon grunts before taking a small sip of his tea.

“Yup.” John shamelessly confesses, “So, how’s my matchmaking skills?”

“Fucking shit.”

“Hm. Didn’t seem too bad when I saw you and your lady kissin’ in the hallway.”

“Don’t watch us make out, yer creep.”

“Then don’t make out where I can see it. I walk that route every single day. I don’t wanna see the two of you exchanging saliva.”

[mintfullyyours]

Past Lives

SIMON RILEY x READER

summary: the past always finds a way to haunt you

PS: honestly probably shouldn't have been a one chap fic. I had so much more I want to write. Also had to look up this man's bio to get the cannon ages right. I guess also older reader but Si and reader are around the same age. Thank you for reading!!

For your consideration: angtybf!price drabble, Amnesiac!Simon, wallpaper w/simon

tags: tattoo inaccuracies, fluff, angst

“This is dumb.” You giggled, as Simon Riley held his arm out for you.

No one ever said it was a good idea to tattoo your significant other but when you’re both 17 and in love, everything seems like a good idea. That's why you're both sat on the floor of your room with a tattoo gun in hand that Simon pawned off somewhere.

"You want to be an artist." He gestured towards his bicep, "Make some art."

It was a pipe dream -- Become a famous tattoo artist and make enough money to get out of this small town.

“You sure about this?” You ask, leaning forward as the sound of the machine whizzed to life.

“Sure.” Simon shrugs, pulling his sleeve higher up. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He puffs out his chest, “Life is too fucking short to care."

His words caused your cheeks to tint pink. You leaned forward and started permanently etching the key template you two had drawn together. This night marked the first tattoos of many and there wasn’t anyone else you wanted to share this moment with than him.

Smiling at your finished key, Simon lifts his arm examining it with a scrunched face. “I've seen worse.” He purses his lips and you smile, quickly pecking his.

“By the way, have I told you about this thing called chapstick?” You tease, handing over your arm to the table.

Simon scoffs and takes over, drawing onto your skin: a heart-shaped lock.

You watched as he diligently shaded the areas, heart swelling with pride. Simon was everything you could’ve asked for in a partner. He admires his work as he wipes the excess ink and knowing you’re staring, he asks,

“What’s on your mind, love?”

Shaking your head, you give a smile, “Nothing, nothing.”

“It’s something.” He takes cling wrap to protect your new tattoo, just as you had for his own, “Tell me.”

Silence as you rest your arm flat on the table and he does the same, heart and key. Two halves of a whole. It’s not that you were ignoring him, you just didn’t know what to say. 

“Just that you'll always have a piece of me” You smile down at the fresh ink.

“As you for me.” Simon cups your cheek gently guiding you to look up at him. You were weak against his touch, “So what’s wrong?”

A sigh escapes your lips, knowing the truth has to come out eventually. “We can’t keep this up forever, you know? Secret meetings. Midnight getaways. I just… I want to be with you but not like this.”

“Alright. Then tell me.” His thumb brushes away the tear that fell from your cheeks, “What can I do?”

A moment of silence as the truth wracks your brain. “Come with me!” You blurt out, “I’m moving… To the States for Uni. And I––” The thought of getting away from this small town brought comfort to your mind.

“I want you to come with me, Si.”

The blonde pauses for a moment as he lets your request sink in. Leaning forward his lips capture yours in a gentle kiss, you closed your eyes allowing him to take the lead. Far too soon, he separates your lips and presses his forehead against your own. Eyes still closed as you let your lips curve into a smile, you’ve never felt more loved than right here in this moment. 

“Wherever you go, I’ll follow.” He states.

But that was then and this is now.

Two decades and some years later, you found yourself as an owner of a tattoo parlor in Los Angeles. The place was in a neon-lit, upstairs studio. Cozy and intimate. If you looked close enough flecks of Manchester littered the room.

But you could never go back, not after what he did.

In the break room you were putting on a fresh pair of gloves, Javier the cashier knocks on the door with the clientele briefings.

“Just one. Booked the whole day.”

You arch a brow but Javier nods and leaves the room. Taking one last glance into the full-length mirror, glad you chose to work in a tanktop that showcased your tattoo sleeves. Most clients felt at ease knowing you have the experience of being tatted so you wasted no time blending in one piece with another.

Exiting the break room, you look up and come to a complete stop.

He wore a leather jacket, smelled of gun powder and smoke with a black KN95 mask to cover his lips. But you knew this man.

Every fiber of your body knew this man all too well. Teenage lovers that whispered secrets against bare skin. There was something in the air, something electric between two passing bodies.

There was a slight squint in his eyes, you couldn't tell if it was a smile. You couldn't remember the last time he smiled.

The fucking nerve.

He thought he could waltz in here after all this time and what? Think nothing of it?

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You mumble, turning your heel. “Cancel it. I’m sick.” You emit a fake cough and head back into the break room.

You’d rather be anywhere than here. 

Javier rolls his eyes, “I’ll leave you to close up.” He says, heading out. You stop and weighed your options. You could close. Losing the money was no big deal, especially if it means saving your sanity.

But accidentally stabbing Simon a little too harshly with a tattoo gun also seemed like a good idea.

You chose the latter and make your way over to your ex. He’s watching you, ever vigilant. Your spine straightens ever so slightly. You haven't heard much of his whereabouts since he left for the military but it wasn't pretty.

“Hey.”

“Don’t hey me.” Your hand reaches for his broad shoulder and forcefully pushes him down onto the leather seat. Simon Riley had filled out and by the looks of the ink on his skin, he'd added to his collection of tattoos. Dark black ink covers his once blank canvas.

“Sit.”

He looks shaken, as though the sudden touch and command woke something in him. 

You take the seat across from him, the table dividing you both. Glad the partition was there otherwise you might strangle him yourself, which was still an option. You unpack the tools, feeling his eyes glued to your every movement. Heart pounding in your chest, why did he still make you feel this way? 

“Whatever you have to say, don't.”

“Okay, ” He says, handing over his left arm to rest on the table. He lowers the KN95 mask too. You took a look at him and your breath hitches at the sigh of scars that marred his face.

He was still so beautiful to you.

“Just something simple. Something that says… I’m sorry.”

Your ears burn at his apology. He had no right to bring back feelings from so long ago. So you point at the blank skin, “How about  Idiot instead?”

Simon chuckles deep and your lips slightly tug upwards, you missed that. From his jacket he pulled out a template, it was a complex design that you estimated would take three hours. You rubbed your temples, knowing he did this on purpose. 

“Fine. But no talking. I don’t want to hear a word come out of your mouth.” You state, dipping the gun into the ink cartridge and getting to work. 

Finishing the last touches, both of your arms rested on the table as you shaded in his piece.

He cleared his throat as though to begin a conversation.

“Not a word, Riley.” You warn, gaze locked on his arm. 

“Hear me out.” Simon pleads. 

“No, I––”

“I went to the airport!” He cuts you off. Your eyes snap to his at his admission. 

Simon took your silence as a cue to continue his statement. There was stirring in the pit of your stomach. 

“The day you left for the States. I was there too. I made it so far to the gates but…” His eyes clouded over with a memory so clear in his mind. “Got scared. Fucking scared of uprooting my life and then holding you back from something greater."

Simon sighed, "I joined the military not long after you left."

"Oh so much for not being scared of war torn countries." you quip.

"We have different definitions of fear."

"Clearly."

He had a point but you were stubborn and would be damned to let him change that.

“You wanted this.” He gestures around the parlor. "You needed it."  

“No, I needed you.” You interrupt him. You couldn’t continue to hear how he was so close yet so far away the day you left Manchester. The day you both were supposed to leave. “You didn’t think I was scared? I loved you and the day you stood me up crushed me into a million pieces. Fuck, two decades later and I’m still putting those shattered parts back together.”

The anger bubbled in you as did the pain of having to live a life without him. No rhyme or reason until today. But you also understood how important family was, for both of you. So you weren’t punishing him for not coming but rather for not telling you. 

You sigh with defeat, “What made you think you could make that decision for me, Si?”

“This.”

With his free hand, he gently turns your right arm over to reveal the heart tattoo. Smiling as he lines it up with the key that was on his own. 

Two halves of a whole.

“I know your strength.” He admitted, "A bond like ours, once in a lifetime."

Silence falls between you. Anger was a heavy heart to bear for all these years.

“'m sorry, Love.” Simon leans down to place a kiss on top of your inked heart like it would heal the wounds on your own. Heat built in your core from the simple act of intimacy. 

“I will spend the rest of my life apologizing and making it up to ya.” Your man-child sighs, “You’re right, 'm an idiot. But I love you and will continue to love you if you let me.”

You allow his words to sink in. Love. You loved the man in front of you even after all these years. 

Still, one question remained, “Why now?”

Simon looks at you with the smallest smile, “I've seen a lot of shit. Killed men. Died, m'self. Came back... A ghost." He admits, the words falling freely. "Maybe doing all of that so to make the world a better place for one person who never left my mind."

With that, his hand reaches for the back of your neck as he pulls you into a kiss. You close your eyes and find yourself reacting to him. His tongue slips inside your own as you both battle for dominance. Exploring each other and trying to unravel secrets with such a kiss. He felt like a dream against you, one you never wanted to wake from.

You moan and whimper, realizing how long it had been without his touch. The kiss satisfied every need you had.

The kiss grew urgent, long gone was the gentle embrace. Lips still connected, you moved the portable easel that separated you both, and Simon guided you to straddle his lap. Clumsy, sure. But soon enough your legs secured both sides of his waist and never once did you break. 

He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes. 

Simon leaned back on the chair as his hands roamed underneath your shirt to touch bare skin. His touch felt like fire to your skin. You moaned in his mouth at his touch and ground your hips against his cock, feeling him harden beneath you. He bucks upwards and you relish in the control. 

You felt his fingers reach to pull the hem of your shirt up but placing a hand on his chest, you gently push him back. He groans with protest. You inhale a sharp breath, “I’m not doing this unless you commit to me, to this life. And if you can't, tell me right fucking now because we're both too old for this."

He leans up to press his forehead against yours. It’s his next words that cause your own emptiness to fill fully and wholly with love. 

“Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

[flowerfreya]

About Me/Masterlist :

Please include Age in bio of blog !

I have been reading fanfiction for the longest time and i thought it’s finally time for me to write some stuff lol.

I am currently obsessed with COD men , but I also like Bucky Barnes and The Witcher.

Ko-fi (commission open) ❤️❤️

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Dr. Dad

Anthology Just some post about Simon and Reader being doctors as well as parents.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Top Chef Reality TV

Simon is a videography and you are a contestant and quickly become obsessed with him.

Quick Fire : Eggs

Elimination Challenge : Ribs

Cancelled - A famous athlete didn't like what reader had to say about her wedding gown and sends all her follows to cancel the reader , but then Simon fixes it

Yes, Chef , Part 2 , Part 3- Reader works at Simons fancy and exclusive restaurant but there is a rude guest and then the reader embarrasses herself after getting saved by Simon

Hockey AU - Simon is a famous hockey player and he is in a long term secret relationship with reader

Football!Simon - Reader is a sport Journalist and Simon is an American football quarterback. Just drabbles and other thoughts.

John Price

No knock Raid - Mafia AU

John Price is the head of the mafia and you know that. You have three children together.

Part 1

Part 2

Practice (E) (daughters best friend)

Your John’s daughter’s best friend. And you’ve wanted him for a long time and tonight’s the night

Did you want a picture?

Reader is an influencer and John Price is a retired celebrity athlete with two teenage daughters that are obsessed with putting him on TikTok. Reader think John wants a picture with her , John thinks reader want a picture with him, chaos ensues.

Weaponized Incompetence (Multi Chapter)

John is not a good husband. Weaponized incompetence is his middle name and you have tried to get him to be better but it only works for two weeks until he’s right back where he started.

Kate Laswell x Reader

An Understanding

reader is bi but has never been with a women. Price knows someone that can help with that.

Poly!141

The Office (Multi Part)

Well I was watching the office and got inspired.

Ghoap x Reader

Cherry Wish (Multi Part)

Johnny and Simon are in a established ten year relationship and Reader works at a grocery store, hasnt been in a relationship in three years and can't go to sleep without Nyquil, and they want her but she likes to be alone (not really, in fact it's quite the opposite)

Drabbles

Ramblings

Ramblings

Ramblings

Rambling

Song Fics

First Thing to Go - Hayley Williams

[billkaulitzrightvainyhand]

HELLO?? The things I’d let this man do to me is diabolical.

[qtboni]

╰﹒ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: Despite Simon's difficulty in expressing his emotions, he still finds ways to show his love for you.

C/W: Entirely fluff + kisses, don't worry.

W/C: 1.3k bubs

Little gestures demonstrate Simon's deep affection for you.

So it's not unusual for you to find a steaming hot coffee sitting on top of your desk, with a sticky note on it, greeting you a nice 'Have A Great Day,' and an affirming 'I Love You.' message at the end.

This small but meaningful gesture of affection is one of the many ways Simon shows you how much he cares, even when he struggles to express his emotions verbally. It's a small but powerful reminder that you matter to him and that he's always thinking of you, even while pursuing his calling as a soldier, as a lieutenant.

Regardless of the day or circumstances, you can always count on this tiny but thoughtful act of kindness from Simon.

You set the coffee cup down, feeling warm and cared for by the lovely gesture. And as you start your day, you can't help but feel grateful for his presence in your life. Even when he's not physically present, you know that his love is always with you, and that's more than enough.

So you smile, take a deep breath, and start your day with a clear mind and a full heart, knowing that you're one of the lucky ones who has a partner that cares so deeply.

You have Simon, and that's more than just a sticky note with a sweet message - that's true love, and it's something you cherish every day.

As you take another sip of the coffee, you look up and see Simon standing in the doorway, a sheepish look on his face. "Hey," he whispered.

Today was one of the days when Simon got to escape the monotony of daily military duties and just relax at home with you. He had traded in his usual military fatigues for a cozy black t-shirt and sweatpants, giving him a chance to take it easy. He even left his famous skull mask and balaclava behind, a sign of just how much he trusted you as his significant other.

Instead of the formidable Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley, the fearless soldier, here you saw a soft-spoken Simon, your Simon, who had let down his guards and chosen to be vulnerable with you. It was a moment of pure intimacy between the two of you, a precious break from the chaos of the world outside.

"How's the coffee?" He continued, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Is it to your liking?"

"Of course it is," you reply, smiling at him. "I always appreciate it when you take the time to do something like this for me."

It's a small thing, but it means a lot.

Simon's face lights up as you speak, and he takes a step forward, reaching for your hand. You can see the love in his eyes, even though he isn't always the best at showing it with words. "I'm glad you like it," he says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You feel your heart swelling with emotion, and you lean forward to give him a kiss. "I love you, Si'," you whisper. "And I appreciate everything you do for me. Thank you."

With a smile on his face, Simon leans into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close. You both savor the moment, savoring the warmth of the coffee, the love that you share, and the comfort of each other's arms.

As you slowly pull away, Simon looks into your eyes, his expression softer and more open than usual. You can see the gratitude and affection in his eyes, and you feel a warmth in your chest that you've never felt before.

"I love you too," he says, his voice low and earnest. "I don't know how I'd get through life without you by my side."

You smile, feeling a swell of love in your heart. Simon takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, and for a moment, you both just stand there, basking in the warmth of each other's presence.

It's a small moment, but to you, it's everything.

After sharing another smile, Simon goes back to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee as well. The sound of the refrigerator opening and closing fills the room as he takes out the creamer.

"Sugar?" Simon asks with a grin, gesturing towards the sugar jar.

"Yeah, just a pinch," you reply with a smile.

Simon adds a little bit of sugar to your cup and then to his. As the steam rises from the hot coffee, Simon takes a sip from his cup and lets out a satisfied groan.

"Ah, that hits the spot!" he says with a smile.

You also take a sip of your coffee and let out a contented sigh. "It's perfect, as always," you say, looking up at Simon.

"Thanks," he replies, smiling back at you. "I just wanted to show you a little extra affection this morning." He shyly averts his gaze from yours, blushing as he do so.

"Well, it definitely wasn't necessary, since you always make me feel loved and appreciated," you say with a smile. "But it was still a really sweet gesture, means a lot to me."

Simon nods and takes another sip of his coffee, seemingly lost in thought. "I just... I know that I'm not always the best at showing you how much I love you with words," he says after a few moments. "So I wanted to do something to make sure you know that I care."

"Simon," you say, putting your cup down on the table. You walked up to where he was standing and cupped his face gently, caressing as you do so. "You don't need to worry about that. I know that you love me. And as much as I love those little notes and gestures, it's the everyday things that you do that show how much you care. Like making me coffee in the morning... you're always there for me, no matter what. And that means more to me than anything else in the world."

Simon looks at you with a soft smile on his face, his eyes shining with adoration. And for a moment, you both just sit there in silence, basking in the comfort and warmth of each other's presence.

Simon takes a deep breath, feeling the warmth from your hands and the love in your words. He looks into your eyes and sees the love and gratitude that you have for him. It makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world, to have someone like you by his side.

"You're everything to me, you know that?" Simon leans in and gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead. It's a soft, sweet kiss, filled with all the love and affection he has in his heart. In that moment, you both know that you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

With a soft smile on your face, you lean back, feeling the warmth from the coffee cup in your hands and the warmth from Simon's love in your heart. It's a moment of pure contentment, a reminder of just how fortunate you are to have each other.

You pecked his cheeks so softly, and Simon can't help but feel a sense of warmth and comfort wash over him. Your kind words fill his heart with joy and he appreciates the love and support you provide him on a daily basis.

He knows that he doesn't always show it, but being able to show himself in this vulnerable state makes him realize just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

You make him feel safe, loved, and appreciated, and he is so grateful for it. You are his everything, and he can’t imagine living his life without you. "Thank you for being my person, my love. I love you."

A/N: Here is my take on a cod character! I know it's not the best and I might've made simon kinda ooc, but I just couldn't help but to have a softy Simon Riley today ><