Simon Ghost Riley X Reader - Blog Posts

Here is my hoard

Works compiled:

RecomMiles x FemReader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Invisible Man x FemReader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

König x Fem!Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Baby Fever König

<3𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑒<3 <3Part Two<3

Vampire!König x Human!Reader

Part 1 Part 2

A Fly on the Wall (Ghoap x reader)

Part 1

Murderer! Simon x Fem!Reader (Soulmate AU)

Idea Post

Soon to come...

Random Simon Stuff

Texting

Simon x college reader fluff

Simon x college reader fluff (reversed)

College Student Simon x Tutor! Reader(smut)

Simon the bully (your bf)

Oneshots:

Monster!König x Vet!Reader: Pt.1 , Pt.2 , Pt. 3, Pt. 4

Let me know if the links are too small to click, I checked to make sure they all worked though! Don't be afraid to like and comment! I love y'alls feedback<3 (The colors don't mean anything.)

so excited about you having your requests open. I love your page!!

can I please request: Simon Ghost Riley x wife!reader?

Ghost and the rest of tf 141 are on a mission and end up getting detoured by who ever they are taking out (Russians, Hassan, etc). They need a safe house and quick! Well it just so happens simons place is right near by and simon takes them. the reader is home alone and just got out of the shower, she heard a bunch of men downstairs and gets freaked. In just her bathrobe, reader takes one of their safety guns and goes to defend herself against the “intruders” but really it’s just simon and gang

(sorry if this is long I got excited)

please and thanks

Hello! I’m so happy you’re enjoying my blog! I do apologize for the delay I was hospitalized for a lung infection (shit sucks dude I felt like a Victorian child dying of tuberculosis) but I’m all good now! So enjoy!

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader

Summary: After their mission becomes compromised Task Force 141 has to take up shelter in a safe house or the Riley Family home much to the surprise of Mrs. Simon Riley

Warnings: innuendos

“Come on I know a place.” Ghost grunted through his skull faced mask. The Lieutenant begrudgingly huffed & puffed leading the rest of his teammates through the forest that lead to the cottage where his family resided. After their location had been compromised Laswell ordered them to find a home in order to stay in where they’d go undetected. With them being only ten miles away from the cottage he called home with his wife, he knew it was the only option. Finally, after miles of hearing Gaz & Johnny complain about their feet aching they reached the wisteria ridden cottage.

He started to reach into his pocket & pulled out the key to his front door.

“Take your shoes off,” Ghost demanded. “We don’t want to track mud.” Photos of a very beautiful young woman in a wedding dress graced the walls of hallway leading into the living room. Simon could hear the water running in the upstairs bathroom indicating to him his beloved darling wife was showering.

“Simon, how do you know about this place?” Soap asked after he kicked his boots off. “I’m assuming you know the beautiful lassie in the photos.” Price chuckled to himself, knew about you. Simon had come to him to ask for advice on a lot of different things in regards to a marriage. His most recent was about children. It was just four months ago you had found out you were with child.

“Something like that.” Simon replied, & removed his mask. Gaz & Soap gave each other a glance knowing he must’ve felt very comfortable with his environment. A black & white cat rounded the corner out of the kitchen. He made a beeline for Simon & started to rub up against Simon’s legs. Bending down Simon grabbed the feline & started to pet him.

You had decided to run a shower, needing to wash away the grime of the day. Your current tired pregnant state made you incredibly drowsy. Resting your head against the cold tile you could’ve sworn you heard the door open. Chalking it up to pure exhaustion you ignored it. Then the all familiar sound of boots coming off by the front door made your head snap. You turned off the water, & dried yourself off. Wrapping yourself in your bathrobe & throwing on a pair of panties you grabbed the shot gun that laid next to the bed. If there was one thing Simon taught you was to defend yourself.

Slowly you started to make your way down the staircase shotgun pointed outwards. Once at the bottom you turned the corner into the hallway. Seeing the all familiar broad shoulders of your husband made you lower your shotgun.

“Si?” You asked clearly confused now cradling the shotgun in your arm. He turned around holding, Phantom your beloved tuxedo cat. “I thought you were supposed to be home in a few days.” You stated clearly confused.

“I’m sorry love, we needed somewhere to stay for a few days.” He replied. “Just until the heat dies down.” He gave you a kiss, much to the surprise of his teammates. “How the little one?” He asked placing one of his large hands on your lower abdomen.

“The usual,” You replied. “But overall we’re just fine.” Soap & Gaz stood there with their mouths wide open in shock.

“You have a kid?!” Soap asked.

“Back it up when did you get married?” Gaz asked. Price just stood there pinching the bridge of his nose at his teammates ruining the lovers moment. Simon holding his wife tightly now turned to face them.

“I got married three years ago, & we’re expecting our first child in five months.” Simon replied. “This is Mrs. Simon Riley, Y/N.”

“It’s so lovely to meet all of you.” You replied beaming. “Hi, John it’s nice to see you again.” You said waving at Price. Both Soap & Gaz looked at him shocked.

“What?!” John asked. “It wasn’t my responsibility to tell you.” Noticing your lack of clothing you excused yourself to change, & brought down old pajamas of Simon’s for the boys.

“The shower is open, & let me bake some cookies for you boys. You must be hungry.” You said. Simon took his usual spot on the couch & turned on Netflix. You loved taking care of Simon, he was the love of your life. The two of you depended on each other for everything. His job was a big stressor in his life & you wanted to make his home life as relaxing as you possibly could.

Soap, & Gaz were in seventh heaven in a world of hardened military men, the tender touch of a woman was exactly what they needed. Someone to just take care of them for a little bit to let them escape from the reality of their lives. Once the cookies were done you brought some plates out for them & then took your place right next to Simon on the couch. He pulled you in tightly, your head resting on his chest & his hand resting on your lower abdomen caressing the small bump. After a plate of cookies you both fell asleep on the couch. John himself was already knocked out in the little recliner that sat next to the couch his bucket hat covering his face. Gaz nudged Soap to look at their sleeping Lieutenant & his darling wife. It was so foreign to them to see him in such a soft state. They had seen him snap men’s necks the way you’d snap a Kit-Kat but here he was even in sleep being so gentle. Soon afterwards the two men also let sleep take over, letting the uncertainty of the situation become a problem for tomorrow.

200 Followers! 🎊

I have officially hit 200 Followers! Woo 🥳! I’d just like to thank all of y’all who’ve commented, followed, liked, & interacted with my page! I’ve debated making a tumblr & writing again so for me to have to 200 of you following me this is a big deal. I haven’t written since 2017 on any platform so get back into it & being able to write for y’all makes me so happy. Thank you for keeping me company, providing me an outlet to where I don’t feel lonely. I spend a lot of time alone due to husband being in the army & I’m neurodivergent so it’s difficult for me to make friends. Here I feel welcomed & safe. That’s thanks to y’all! Please do not hesitate to request any stories my inbox is open!

- The Bejeweled Blondie 💎🩷✨🪩

The way this is my husband, I swear the military has destroyed his knee caps 😭

Imagine Simon/Price proposing to their partner and they’re just standing there in shock and Simon/Price are just like “My love, not to rush you but my knees are not what they used to be”

He then proceeds to get stuck on the floor

The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

this is so cute 😭😔

"You remembered." You state to Simon with wide eyes. Just a moment ago he came theough the door to your flat with a present bag and a cake.

The longer you looked at him the more tears that filled your eyes. It was your birthday, and everyone in your life had forgotten. But not Simon. He would mever forget something like this.

You never thought Simon of all people would be the one too remember. But little do you know he has had a countdown until your birthday on his for since you last birthday.

"Of course i did," He starts "I would never forget something so special." He finishes adoration in his eyes.

You practically race up to him and throw your arms around his waist, the tears dont stop as you sob into his chest. He moves both of you to a spot he can set the bags down and wraps both of his arms around you squeezing tight.

"I'm here, I'll always be here."

Husband!Simon Riley that doesn’t wear chapstick unless you kiss him. preferably, you’d be wearing the chapstick - don’t worry, if you’re not he carries a spare in his back pocket, just put some on, lovie

Husband!Simon Riley that lets you paint his nails. he likes a simple clear coat, or a matt black, but he prefers a color that matches your eyes. despite his precision with handling guns and knives, his hands get a little shaky when he paints your nails. he silently psychs himself out because he doesn’t want to mess up

Husband!Simon Riley that stops by your favorite fast food place after a grocery run so you can have a little treat. he has your go-to order in his notes app and under your contact information. plays dumb when you get excited, “S’nothing special, just eat.”

I need more fics like this

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 0.2k

the phone buzzes at 3:07 a.m.

you answer on instinct, heart thudding like a warning—but the moment you hear the low crackle of distant static, your chest eases.

"si?" you whisper, voice thick with sleep.

"told you i'd call."

his voice is gravel, dulled by poor signal and fatigue. but it’s him.

"you okay?"

"fine," he says. it's automatic. a soldier's answer. then quieter, "can't sleep."

you sit up against the headboard, brushing hair from your face. "where are you?"

a silence and then, his answer.

"nowhere good."

he never tells you, not really. you stopped asking a long time ago.

there's a pause. you hear him breathe.

"is she awake?" his question makes you smile for a moment.

"she had a nightmare an hour ago. i rocked her back down, but she’s been babbling since. talking to the ceiling fan, i think.” you explain softly, sitting at the bed.

he huffs something close to a laugh.

"i'll put you on speaker."

in the dim nightlight, your daughter—grace, as he was gifted to call her, lies in her crib, blanket half-kicked off, tiny fists waving at nothing.

simon listens. on the other end of the world, he's crouched in some half-shelled out building, rifle at his side, bone-weary—but when his daughter coos into the line, high and breathy and nonsense-sweet, his eyes close.

"bah-bah. da-da-da-da."

he bites down the ache.

"daa,"she says again, louder, like she knows.

his voice breaks low over the line. "that's me, sweetheart."

as the line keeps up, you smile with your eyes closed. tiny moments, as you called them. tiny moments where simon could feel happy even if he was crossing the whole world.

a/n: simon would have a daughter fight me

This is so cute wtf

Simon isn't the man with words. He won't say it — but he'll do it.

Naked, with his arm snaked around your waist and head tucked under his chin, you blinked your crusty eyes to locate your things, which were clumsily tossed around between shared mouths, hot breaths, and rushed hands.

Nothing. Not even the underwear Simon teared off with his teeth last night.

After relentless Simon, Simon, Simon, and one almost-successful attempt to slide out from under his hold, he pulled you back in—eyes still closed.

“Ya’ flutter too much, birdie,” he breathed against your shoulder.

“I need to pee.” So he got up gruffly, his mouth tugging slightly—something you hoped was a smile.

Now, with your back straight, you could see the whole room had none of the things you came with last night—except this hot, big, muscled, nerdy-talks-about-guns-and-whiskey-too-much type of guy.

It felt like his apartment was robbed last night, with only your stuff stolen.

“Can’t see my stuff,” you muttered.

“I can.” Simon said casually, with his eyes fixated over your tits.

After blushing for more time than you should, and recovering for a pointed look at him that finally got him moving.

“Dunno,” Simon said curtly, staring at you before reaching down, abs folding, to pick up a black, curled-up t-shirt.

“Ya’ can have dat.” He shrugged, a grin in his eyes.

Over the morning, you realized you were actually wrong. Not all your things were gone. Just half.

One earring. One footwear. You found your shirt—but with no damn buttons.

You were damn sure there were at least three left, but then again, Simon's mouth hadn’t left you coherent enough to count or claim.

And Simon. God. Fuck him. Literally, metaphorically, now, and ever.

Simon was no help. He had that mischievous glint in his eyes—sexy and annoying.

He was aggravating.

The big boy claimed he was making breakfast, so you shouldn't disturb him with silly things like I know something is fishy and Where's the other shoe? and Return them it's not your size ! But somehow, he had plenty of time to rake his gaze over you as you chicken-legged your way through his house in his black tee, muttering a madness-streaked:

Found it!

Simon, you're sus.

It was only at breakfast—between dodging your suspicious, snoopy glare—that he smugly suggested buying some clothes for you in the evening.

Something casual for everyday...something you’d like while going out with him on coffees etcetera...or something you want to get because “his house ate your things”—your claim, not his.

Simon only had to say, stay.

He only had to ask you on a date.

But Simon isn't the man with words, so for now, he'll just do it this way.

⚝ Masterlist ⚝

pen pal simon - original post

every day after work, you found yourself sat at your desk attempting to write back a response to the soldier who referred to himself as ‘ghost’. crumpled up stationary surrounded your desk space, along with different types of pens as you obsessed over your handwriting. if one letter of your penmanship looked wrong, the paper would become another ball added to the collection of half written letters that contained slightly different, if not the same, wording in response to the thank you letter from ghost.

the simple questions he asked to get to know you suddenly felt like the hardest questions to answer, as if you were being graded on the facts about yourself. was he going to find your hobbies boring? maybe your hobbies were boring the more you read your response. the easiest question to answer was regarding how long you had been doing the care packages - a few years since one of your friends had a significant other that joined the military. stories often mixed with people who received packages and cards from family members frequently, but the ones where some received little to none are the ones that made you upset. so, you had decided to explain that to ghost and it was probably the easiest response of them all to write out. not single moment did the pen leave the paper for you to collect your thoughts or how to word your answer.

but then, you continued to answer the questions he asked you, and in return you asked him similar or different ones. again, you weren’t positive he would reply this time around, but you figured you’d still return the gesture of asking him questions as well. and when you finished writing it all, reading through it god only knows how many times for errors, you finally slipped it into an envelope. this time, no ‘treats’ were included, instead you had opted to ask him if he had any favorites, that way if he did end up writing you back then you could buy him what he preferred.

and after you mailed out the letter, you pushed the thought of it to the side to try and forget about it. but, you couldn’t deny every time you arrived home and checked the mail you were secretly hoping there was a response. but then a few weeks went by and there really was no response waiting mixed in with your other mail.

then after almost two months, after a shit day at work, you didn’t even think twice as you grabbed the mail and walked into your home. going through the motions of your routine - showering, cooking dinner and anything else you had to take care of, you finally sat at the counter towards the end of the night to sort through the mail. a small card was tucked between a bunch of other trash mail, your eyes immediately recognizing the handwriting. quickly, you opened up the envelope and sure enough, that same notebook paper was tucked into it, this time three pieces of paper unfolded in your hands. 

..it’s been quite hectic over where i’m currently at, so sorry for the lack of my responding…

...i’m a bit upset of the lack of treats, it definitely beats what we have to eat sometimes.

the reason you do the packages is quite sweet. is your friends’ partner still alive? you use the past tense when you speak of them. sorry if that is rude to ask.

you read every word of the letter, not once, but twice. and he didn’t just read your response to his, he took notice of the small details. you didn’t even realize you had used the past tense, but he wasn’t wrong in his assumption either when he thought they might have passed. it was like reading a full blown conversation he had to himself in his head; the way before or after some sentences, he would write out interjections. some sentences were followed by parentheses where he made his own little comment as well about what he had just written.

again, i hope you forgive my delayed response. hope it doesn’t stop you from writing back. don’t always have the time, but promise i’ll get back to you. maybe in your next letter you can send me a picture of yourself, i think it would be nice to put a face to the name that signs off on these. i can’t do the same, but i’ll find a way to make up for that. ‘til the next letter, ghost.

and while you didn’t get started writing your response that night, you did make your way to your room with a smile on your face. excitement was already brewing about what you would say in your response and the next anticipated response he would give back, even if he did take a bit to respond.

tw: mentions of roofies, murder, then smut:)

cbf!simon would absolutely kill for you.

cbf!simon has always been your partner in crime.

even in your youth, back when he was built like a daffodil, he was always by your side. kept you safe from the mean girls at school, always got in trouble for throwing hands at boys who made crass comments at you and the like. then he'd left his butcher job to join the military. "I gotta learn how to keep you safe, love. i'll always come back to ya."

and he had. he returned to you almost four times his size; he left a boy and came back a man. down to your very bones, you knew that he would always keep you safe.

which is why he was the first person you called when the guy next to you at the bar roofied your drink. the beer fizzed irregularly and had an almost milky colour even though it was an ipa.

the idiot had dared to smile at you, an oily, crooked grin with yellow teeth, and lifted his own glass to toast with you.

you bolted out of your seat in seconds, heading straight to the ladies' room, and dialed.

he answered on the second ring.

"please come get me." you hadn't meant to sound as terrified as you felt.

"be there in 5," then hung up.

he lived 15 minutes away from the dingy bar.

true to his word, he was there in 5, texting where you were at.

inside the ladies bathroom.

he let himself in, put his jacket around your quivering shoulders, and with a strong, comforting arm, guided you toward the exit and into his truck. simon remained silent as he sat you in the passenger seat, gently pulling the seatbelt over your chest, clicking it into place.

he stood next to you, his hands resting on your jean-clad thighs, waiting patiently for you to explain.

your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you sort out your thoughts. you no longer felt afraid, that much was certain. simon has always been your pillar of strength. there was nothing to fear with him at your side.

so why do your hands continue to tremble? digging deeper, you realize that you're angry. no.

furious.

some imbecile thought he'd take advantage of you. if you'd been any more drunk, you would have been a victim— wound up lifeless in a dirty ditch.

you burned with fury, your blood boiling under your skin. how dare he? how dare he?

simon softly touches your tightly clenched hands, coaxing your fingers to unfurl.

everything pulls hard to port when your eyes land on his disfigured knuckles— scarred by battle. you've never liked what simon did for a living. he just fought and killed people that some higher-up told him were the bad guys.

in war, there is no good or bad side. the field is too soaked in blood for anyone to recognize where the line is if there even was one to begin with.

until now. just this once, you couldn't be more grateful that simon possesses the skills he does.

you make your decision. "there was a guy in there. green hat, ugly brown jacket with yellow, crooked teeth. he drugged my beer, then toasted me so i would drink it."

his hands tighten around yours marginally. "and now i'm here, safe, with you. but he's still in there, with potentially a pocket full of pills, on the lookout for his next victim. how am i supposed to sleep tonight, knowing that if someone goes missing tonight, the blood will be on my hands?"

you cut your eyes to his dark, hardened ones, and the words tumble out of your mouth with surprising ease.

"there's trash in there that needs throwing out, simon."

nothing but a wretched mongrel that needs to be put down.

simon's nod is subtle, but it's there. you exhale a shuddering breath, heart slamming against your ribcage.

he's a gun in your hand, and you've just pulled the trigger.

simon hands you the keys to the truck. "are you sober enough to drive home?" he quietly asks.

hard to keep a buzz when you almost became a victim of—

"yes."

he's opening the glove compartment, taking out his skeleton gloves, and a tac knife that he tucks inside the waistband of his jeans.

"go home. i'll see ya in a bit." his voice is flat, lifeless.

simon closes the door and raps his knuckles on the hood of the truck before heading inside.

and so the elephant marches to war.

-

it's well past midnight when he crawls in through your window. one moment his boots are on the windowsill, the next he's pinning you onto your mattress, hips flush against yours.

his chilly, clean hands lift the hem of your loose shirt, dimpling the soft skin that his fingers dig into— his bare lips grazing the shell of your ear.

"he is no longer a problem."

he grinds his clothed erection against the flimsy fabric of your sleeping shorts.

"you did the right thing by telling me what he did."

simon trails a path of open-mouthed kisses from your ear down to your mouth, licking your bottom lip.

"nothing gets me harder than when my girl looks at me to keep her safe."

your breath hitches when a hand begins to move south, lifting the waistband of your bottoms and sliding his fingers over your slick pussy. "it seems you like it too. does it turn you on, ordering me around like a dog? i bark at your command, pet."

one finger sinks into your wet heat, his groan drowning out your own.

"you like having this much power over me? how easily i bend to your will?" he croons.

there are two fingers in you now, so much thicker than your own, and the way they curl and drag along your nerves has your toes tingling. he takes you to the precipice at frightening speed— the expert hands that kill without remorse are the same ones that are bringing you your pleasure.

he thrusts his fingers into you with an obscene squelch and a thumb circles your slippery clit.

"i'd burn the world to ashes if you asked it of me."

the coil in your stomach is tight, your body tense in anticipation.

"so... would you? would you ask me to bring the world to its very knees?"

the answer sits on the tip of your tongue when you climax around his fingers, walls pulsing rhythmically, arousal dripping from his knuckles.

later will be a good time to reflect on how you don't feel even remotely guilty for what's been done.

for now, you focus on how good simon feels as he slowly sinks into you, splitting you wide open with his heavy cock.

-

simon finds no pills in the guy's pockets. no baggie, no bottle.

nothing.

shame that his little love has declared the guy's life forfeit.

your wish is his command.

Help for Venezuela. REBLOG PLEASE.

Help me spread the word about what is happening in my country.I don't want to cry anymore thinking about what is going to happen to my family, or my friends. Many in my generation have committed suicide due to the desperation of the current crisis, others have left their university careers to go to work at an early age for a starvation wage. Please, I just want to stop suffering, I don't want to cry anymore, I just want a normal adolescence for all young people. My people need FREEDOM.

you’ve all heard of men fucking women in front of mirrors to show them they have nothing to be self conscious about…but what if it was reversed?

Imagine Simon coming home from a mission, tired, and just absolutely beat. He got a new scar from his mission, one that crosses down his back - across his shoulder blades to be specific. So having him come home and avoid every ounce of your love kills you.

this happened for almost four days, his constant avoidance, rejection, swerving from your kisses - you had enough. That’s how you ended up like this, bracing yourself on the mirror as he pounded into you. He kept his head down, pressing small kisses against your back. You tried your best to stand a little, pressing your back against him, holding his head on your shoulder so he was forced to look at himself. With a few more thrusts, he came - and he shrunk back into you. You reassured him that he would always look handsome, and be worthy of all you had to offer.

“Just because you gained another scar doesn’t mean you’re ugly or unworthy of anything…it just lets me love you a little deeper.”

a/n: I’m sorry for the short length and how lazy the writing is, I’m just slowly losing interest in writing for him. I’m not saying that I won’t continue writing for Ghost, but I do need a break from him. I'll continue to write, but just for other people - I’ll come back for him later.

Okay, it should be out sometime this weekend

new fic coming out sometime soon

not this week tho, school is beating my ass

new fic coming out sometime soon

not this week tho, school is beating my ass

ghost telling you you’ve always been his ‘marry’ when he gets randomly pulled into a game of ‘fuck, marry, kill.’

Since I’m gonna be participating in Kinktober, I need some theme ideas for 31 days of writing! I’m gonna set up a while master masterlist for Kinktober that I will be updating throughout the month, and leave for you all to enjoy!

But…I do need ideas! So send in what you want to have added into Kinktober!

I will not do any incest, dub-con, or vile topics.

CAN ANYONE ELSE IMAGINE TF-141 AS DANCERS FOR MAGIC MIKE SHOWS???

OKAY- like, imagine Wet Dreams for Simon!! You’re one of the dancers, scheduled to do the designated dance with Simon (he asked specifically for you) and you’re out there in front of a crowd, nervous out of your mind and as the song starts he just whispers a sweet “Trust me, love.” AND ALMOST MAKES YOU CUM IN FRONT OF ALL THOSE PEOPLE - he definitely rewards you after the show for doing such a great job on stage ;)

Soap would probably do Air Seduction because he’s such a fucking TEASE! The whole time, he’s dancing around you, leaving ghost touches, stripping and sometimes even thrusting into your clothed core, BUT NEVER DOES ANYTHING TO RELIEVE YOU!!! However, near the end when you’re finally touching, TRUST that he’s gonna be feeling you up every damn chance he gets!

CANDY SHOP FOR GAZ???? Let’s get this straight, he likes all types of women (they all do!) - so when he saw you sitting in the first row, eyeing him up like a piece of candy?! (No pun intended) You bet he gets you up on the stage! When he starts dancing around you and eating that damned whipped cream, you wonder what he’d look like with your cream in his mouth- Licking the whipped cream off your body?? And kissing all over you? Thrusting in your face???? When the shows over, he leans forward to whisper in your ear “Meet me in the back. I want to taste the real treat.” GOD DAYUMMMM

JOHN PRICE IS A MAN OF CONSENT….SO YOU BET HES ASKING FOR PERMISSION!!!! He would be so respectful towards you…but of course also have his way with you! He’s gotta show you what you need- how much better he can fuck you compared to anyone else! You bet that after that show, he’s not letting anyone touch his darling again.

Simon 'Ghost Riley would break a table trying to play Level Devil.

Simon dropped his keys into the small dish at your front door, kicking off his boots and setting them aside nicely. He shrugged off his coat and hung it up, leaving his baseball cap on the small table he put his keys on.

he walked further into the house, looking around, but seeing no sign of you. His brows furrowed a little, calling out to you. “Love? Y’here?”

he walked further into the house, peaking into the bathroom and living room before hearing a door open. He turned to see you walking out of your room in tears, wearing one of his shirts. The worst thoughts went to his head - did you hurt yourself? Did someone else get hurt? Were you upset with him? He walked over to you cautiously, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

“What’s wrong, love? Did somethin’ happen when I was gone?” His fingers carded through your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

You pulled away a little to look up at him and smile, wiping away your tears the best you could as you sniffled and held him close. “I- I did it…” you smiled, small laugh coming from your lips.

A small look of confusion crossed his face as he ran his hands up and down your sides, squeezing you a little. “Did what, love?” he asked.

You smiled through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I made myself cum…no help, no vibrator…just me…”

Simon had felt proud of you a lot through the years, but being able to see you so proud of yourself made him so much prouder. He picked you up and held your ass to keep you steady. “That’s my girl…oh god, that’s my girl. M’so proud of you, lovie.”

Many women think that they’re “broken” because they still haven’t made themselves feel pleasure without a helping hand. You need to know that you aren’t broken - not even close. Your body is beautiful and unique in its own way, and you need to take the time to love how intricate and powerful you all are. This is for men and women, since they both struggle with this issue. You can do it, you just need to breathe and appreciate that you are made differently from everyone else. You deserve your pleasure. No matter how long it takes you to figure it out.

I just ate the juiciest nectarine ever and the juices got all over my chin…ghost would def say something like

“It’s not nice to impersonate people, love. Especially after I made you cum so hard.”

or just really sloppily kiss you, running his tongue all over the juices across your mouth and chin, making sure to taste your tongue for more of those delicious juices.

im here to share my silly thoughts hahah

https://www.instagram.com/p/C8kH6JVMIai/?igsh=MWZiOGpxN2VycmRjeA==

ive read many fics about simon, many different aus etc. and this guy is also giving me simon vibes. in a more different universe, that'd be different simon 🤭 (end of my thought)

DJ! SIMON THAT YOU????

One of the most embarrassing moments for a woman, is when she unexpectedly gets her period. No pads or tampons to help save her. So sitting in the bathroom of the pub you and the task force were celebrating at was anything but ideal. You were at the bar ordering a drink when the slippery feeling began to grow between your legs. You knew it wasn’t arousal (even though Simon sat beside you the whole time) but it was also too early to get your period.

the way your eyes widened as you felt it drip down your leg and spread across your thighs brought nothing but embarrassment to your face, seeing a small drop of blood drip onto the floor beneath your skirt. Quickly running off to the bathroom, you locked yourself in a stall and let out small choked sobs. Many would say it’s natural, and you know it. But that doesn’t stop anyone from feeling embarrassed about what happened. You pulled out your phone and sent some quick texts to the first person in your contacts - ”Si Pie🫶🥧 ”

-“Ask a waitress for a pad” 16:09

-“please quickly” 16:10

sitting and waiting might have been worse than seeing the bloody mess on your thighs and down your legs. But when you heard the bathroom door open and then close, you expected a woman to slip you a pad that Simon gave her under the door, but instead there were Salomon hiking boots and a deep voice.

“open up, love.” The low voice brought comfort, stuffing your panties with tissue quickly and the pulling your skirt down to open the door.

the moment you saw his eyes soften at you under the balaclava, you broke out into tears once again. He gently pulled you into his arms and rubbed your sides to soothe you. “No need to feel embarrassed, a’righ? Just clean yerself up ‘nd we’ll go back out together.”

listening to him, you went back into the stall, cleaned yourself up to the best of your abilities and then walked out to see Simon leaning against a wall. He motioned for you to walk ahead, gently placing a hand on your lower back to massage away some cramps. Once back at the booth, there was a glass of water in your spot. Everyone continued to chatter, as did you, feeing yourself ease up as Simon linked his arm around you and rubbed your lower tummy.

what a good soldier he was.

nap time is the best

Having the window open as your bodies are pressed together with only a thin sheet covering each other. Simon resting his head on your chest as you lazily give him head scratches - debatably the best part of it all. The sound of the rain pattering on your bedroom window making you both sleepy.

the time being filled with soft kisses to each others lips and random naps, Simon falling asleep and you pressing soft kisses to the crown of his head while taking some picture of him to add to your hidden album in your phone…

as you fall asleep, Simon litters little kisses on your chest and whispers about how a big brute like him doesn’t deserve the love you give him. But he could never figure out how even in your sleep you could figure out he was talking bad about himself, your arms wrapping around him as you nuzzle into the top of his head.

the sloppy kisses. Having you propped up on him as you lazily kiss each other, not caring that either of your tongues are basically missing each other and just aiming everywhere else except there.

but the one thing that kills me - Simon can’t help but to hum “You Are My Sunshine” to you as you fall asleep. His low voice rumbling in your ear as he rocks you gently, reminding you that your his light that gets him through a tough day at work, or through a nightmare, or a reminder of what he was blessed with to come home to.

safe to say Simon “Ghost” Riley loves nap time.

i just saw your post about reader who can’t make themselves cum and ugh i love it, especially because i feel like no one ever talks about or includes it. anyways i would love to hear your thoughts on reader who has a hard time cumming, especially during sex no matter how good it feels

I fell that it’s honestly really important to talk about it to let people know that they aren’t alone. And I’m so glad you liked it :)

It is scientifically proven that men can cum easier during sex than women. It’s mostly because women have complex bodies, what works for one person might not work for the other. So when figuring out your own body, it’s important to keep in mind that your body is unique compared to others.

this wasn’t the first time that you’d been sprawled out in bed with Simon pleasing you. He kissed up and down your body, caressed every inch of you, even stopped for a little to rest his head on your chest and make sure you were nice and relaxed. You two had been on this journey together for a little while now, trying to figure out what you like and how he can make his pretty cum. He had tried many things, using his tongue, light pressure on your clit, firmer pressure, no pressure and just stimulating your g-spot, stimulating your g-spot and your clit, adding nipple play to see if that made you more sensitive; but even if it felt good, your body wouldn’t let yourself go.

at first, Simon thought it was because he wasn’t good enough. That he just lost his touch and that he wasn’t doing enough for you. But when you comforted him and explained how you’d been like this since you could remember, it made him feel better and worse. Alright, he wasn’t a complete failure and could still make you cum…but why hasn’t he? Every time you two had sex or just did foreplay, he would make sure to take all the time in the world to get you really nice and wet for him. He would use his fingers to curl inside you and touch that spot to make you mewl and arch your back off the mattress. But you still couldn’t cum. You were in the middle of him thrusting into you, feeling how his cock would twitch gently inside you, his fingers working your clit. Left side, right side, hood of it, right on it, pinching it gently, but all it would do is make you feel more pleasure that lead to nothing but a dead end.

you buried your head into his neck and let out small whimpers as he kept his movements steady. After another 15 minutes, that’s when the whimpers turned into silent sobs. Your body jerked a little as you cried, tears gliding down your cheeks and onto his bare shoulder. His head leaned down against yours and held you tightly, gently sliding your of you to hold you in his lap. You cried softly, neither of you talking, but both knowing what was wrong. “I don’t like being broken…” you said through little cries, voice soft and hoarse. But you were cut off by Simon shaking his head and cupping your face to press small kisses against the apples of your cheeks.

“Yer not broken, love. Y’just different. Just because we don’t know how t’make you cum just yet doesn’t mean my sweet girl is broken.” His words were soft against your ear as he caressed your head, another time failed.

as time passed, you began losing hope. It’s fair, thinking you just can’t do it because something inside is wrong or maybe you just weren’t cut out to be able to feel that pleasure everyone talks about. You started to notice how Simon even began refusing any type of pleasure. Handjob? No thanks, love. Maybe a blowjob cause you had a stressful day? Nope, but I do need cuddles, sweet girl. He was refusing your love. While he sat in his home office finishing some paperwork, you walked in quietly, staring at him as he stared down at the paper, pushing up his glasses. The glasses that you finally got him to buy because he kept complaining about the television being too hard to see and the news on his phone is too small. Thank god you did though, he looked bloody hot in them. Scooting your way into his office, you stood in front of his desk, catching his attention. “Somethin’ ya need, love?”

your cheeks burned as he looked at you, but you couldn’t get distracted! “Why are you refusing my love?”

it was clear the question caught him off guard by the way he paused, mouth slightly agape as he looked at you. “I’m not refusin’ your love. What makes you say that?”

“Wha-…? Yes you are! Every time I offer you a blowjob or a handjob, you say no. Am I doing something wrong? Does it not feel good? Do you…do you not like me anymore?”

he could hear your little heart shatter in that last question, standing up from his chair and walking over to you. He grabs you hands and sits on his desk, pulling you towards him. “I fucking love you. Neve think for a minute that I stopped loving you. I’m refusing to let you do any of tha’ because I don’t think it’s fair to ye. Not fair that my sweet girl has to endure not bein’ able to cum, so m’not gonna either.” He says while looking straight into your eyes, his thick and calloused fingers pushing some hair behind your ear. “Won’t cum until you can.”

while you thought he was refusing your live, he was actually doing it because he didn’t want you to feel left out? This man looked like a scary man, but he was the most thoughtful and caring teddy bear ever. “What if I never do, though?”

“Then neither will I.” He spoke seriously. “Understand?”

the small nod you give him is enough acknowledgement for him, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Now, I was doin’ some research, and I found that most women can’t reach an orgasm without some help. So, what do ya think ‘bout lookin’ for some toys with me, eh?”

oof-

Now you’ve touched yourself, it’s kinda hard not to when you have an insatiably hot boyfriend. The relationship isn’t extremely new, maybe a few months in, but not new new. You both have had phone sex, needing that sudden release when he was out on deployment. But every time you touch yourself, you do it only to the point when you begin orgasming. Key word: begin.

the mutual masturbation has been common for you two since the beginning really, letting yourselves reach that amazing peak. So the first time you two got a little tipsy and felt that need growing a wet patch on your panties, Simon knew what to do.

he fingered you, stretching out your wet and gummy walls for him, making sure that you would be able to fit him in your tight cunt. His low, guttural groans did nothing good for you, making your clit throb and hole clench around his fingers.

“Fuck, look a’ you. Takin’ my fingers so fuckin well.”

he groaned into your neck, his hand picking up the pace. The wet sounds from your slick filled the room, making your hands link around his neck and pull yourself closer to him. The tight feeling you get before cumming getting closer and closer.

“Si- Simon! Almost…almost the- ah!” You squealed into his neck, thighs tightening around his hips that held your legs open for him. His fingers quickened again, rubbing that slightly rigid spot inside you that made you mewl loudly.

When your orgasm hit, you expected him to stop, just like you always did. But when he didn’t, you arched your back and reached down to grip his wrist. “Simon! N-no, too much!” You screamed after you felt another surge of pleasure, making him finally stop.

you felt him pull away slightly, looking down at his lower abdomen that was glistening with liquid. He looked back at you with a dark look in his eyes. “Didn’t take ya for a squirter, love.”

the heat rose to your cheeks, voice coming out slightly hoarse. “I haven’t…haven’t squirted before…”

a devious smirk made its way to his face before he leaned down.

“Lets see if I can do it again.”

it is proven that majority of women can’t orgasm from intercourse alone. So imagine reader who can’t make herself cum, no matter how she touches her swollen little bud.

it’s becoming more annoying as you keep trying, different speeds, pressures, and angles, but nothing seems to work for you! It’s gotten to the point where you’ve quite frankly given up on even touching yourself. You’ve tried for so long, yet always get nothing.

so imagine telling Simon when he asks you, oh so kindly when on deployment, to touch yourself with him to make you both feel good. The silence over the phone when you say you can’t.

“What?”

“I just can’t. I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t work for me.”

“‘Ave ya-?”

“I’ve done everything, Simon! I can’t, okay?”

it was clear that this was something that you weren’t comfortable with talking about. It made you upset that you didn’t “function correctly” like other women. So the night Simon came home, he greeted you with a soft kiss. There wasn’t any harsh underlying emotion, just soft and sweet love. His large and calloused hands would cup your cheeks and look at your eyes, watching the slight confusion slip into your gaze.

now laying against his sturdier chest, looking at yourself in the mirror with him behind you, you knew what was happening. He gently pulled down your sleeping pants, taking his time to let his fingertips brush against every inch of your thighs, all the way down to your ankles. And soon enough, off came your panties too. He started by admiring the slight glistening of your slick right by your entrance, using his fingers to gently dip into the fluid that he loved. Dragging his fingers upwards, he brought his fingertips to the side of your clit, letting your slick be the lube for his fingers.

Simon looked at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact as his fingers pressed onto your clit. The gasp that left your lips was sudden, almost reaching down to grab his wrist, but stopping when he gave you a stern warning look. Everything felt different - his touch felt electrifying, while yours felt like watching paint dry. Why was it so different? Your eyes fluttered shut, head resting on his shoulder when he started speeding up his small circular motion. Your thighs spread a little more, shuddering when you felt a build up in your lower tummy. That burn you never felt unless you used a toy, the burn you got before you were clouded with euphoria; it was coming. You let out small squeaks and whimpers as your hips lifted and you came undone. Usually that’s when you’d stop, let your body just relax, but Simon kept a firm hand across your torso, using his leg to keep yours pinned down so he could still rub you till complete satisfaction.

once his movements slowed and he was panting along with you slightly, he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, looking at your eyes through the mirror again.

“I don’t care what time of day it is, if ye need t’cum, y’tell me and I’ll help, love. Alrigh’?”

you mustered a small nod, droopy eyes falling to the wet and sticky mess between your thighs, and the lovely hands that helped you along the way.

when you first started your relationship with Simon, I honestly believe that he will wait until you’re asleep to link your pinkies together. This man cannot fall asleep without you touching him. And then as the relationship grows, he can fall asleep before you because he feels safe, but he has to be squeezing your pudge.

another total side note, if he ever gets uncomfortable in gathering areas, he will move straight to your side and almost like a child pull on the end of your sleeve and look away. The smallest amount of touch is comforting to him. He needs his love.

141 men + König would absolutely die watching their big girl have to jump while putting on their jeans/pants. They love their big girl.