Simon Ghost Riley Headcanons - Tumblr Posts

I’m so glad i found a blog that writes for us girly readers,❤️

Simon with a shy reader that’s embarrassed to be naked in front of a man for the frist time 🥺

i’m so glad i found people who enjoy my blog 🩷

thanks for ur req!!

simon isn’t one to pressure, he keeps his distance and takes things at his own pace—and that goes for his significant other, too. so when you’re changing infront of him for the first time and you’re humiliated, he’s slightly curious, yet leaves it to stir; looking up from his book, watching your hands quickly rifle through the drawers.

‘y’right, love? seem panicky.’

he rasped, cocking a brow upwards as his finger tapped against the aged page of the book on his lap, your hands coming to cover your bra and panties timidly, sheepishly nodding.

‘mhm! all—all good!’

you quickly dismissed, shoving on a pair of shorts and a hoodie— a hum coming from his lips.

-

he had you on his lap, lips pressing against the soft skin of your neck, hands curling around your waist like you were fragile porcelain, your head resting on his broad shoulderblade like it was a cushioning of some sort, breath hitching when his hand moved to slide your shirt off, wiggling slightly.

he immediately came to a stop, looking up at your tense shoulders and scrunched nose.

‘y’ alright?’

‘i’ve never..’

‘i’ve never been naked; in front of.. a man.’

you whispered in embarrassment, hiding your face in his hand as simons head cocked to the side, letting out a soft chuckle while gently moving your wrists away.

‘darlin’, you ain’t gonna be naked.. you’ll have your..knickers on.’

the male reassured, kissing your cheek as his hand moved up to his own shirt, slipping the thin fabric over his head, patting your thigh encouragingly.

‘there, better?’

with a nod of your head, he slowly removed your shirt, placing it neatly beside on the bed; reaching up to kiss at your shoulder, hands kneading at the plush of your hips, moving to caress your midriff with soft hums, listening to your shaky breaths.

‘cant—can’t do it.’

you quickly muttered, reaching for your shirt as he nodded, helping you slide the fabric back on and gently lifting you from his lap, soft smile painted onto his lips.

‘never gonna rush you, dollie.’

-

the hot water of the bath dripped along his spine, scars covering each crook and cranny; back pressed against the cold edge of the tub, letting himself soak off after a long day, hands rubbing soap into his skin.

a gentle knock on the door caused him to cock a brow, waiting before the door slowly peeled open, your head peeking around it.

‘si?’

‘y’alright?’

he asked, reaching for a towel to get out—stopped by your sudden dismissal.

‘no-no, don’t..’

‘can i.. get in?’

you murmured, watching his brows raise with mild shock, before a nod followed; covering his eyes with his palms, humming.

‘you..don’t need to do that anymore.’

you broke the silence, watching his arms fall back down in relaxation, rolling his shoulders as he brought his knees up so you had more room, slowly sliding your shirt over your head—followed by the removal of your bottoms, before hesitantly sliding off your undergarnaments and stepping into the bath, leaning against him.

‘how lucky am i, to have such a gorgeous partner?’

he gently mumbled into your neck, kissing the skin.

Father’s Friend! Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Implied Smut, Age Gap Relationship, Forbidden Relationship, Older Man/Younger Reader, Protective! Simon, Slightly Creepy! Simon, Petnames, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Simon was more gentle with you than he’d ever been with anyone, especially now as he lay on top of you, pushing into you slowly, carefully.

He knew what you were doing was wrong – the looks, the gifts, the sneaking around behind everyone’s backs – but he’d already betrayed too many of his instincts – allowed you to break down too many of his walls – to care now.

Simon had fucked before, but he’d never made love to anyone. You were his first, in that sense.

“That’s it,” he rasped, releasing a guttural moan as he finally managed to slip into you fully. He felt himself twitch. Felt you heaving laboured breaths as he lay heavy inside you. He rested his forehead against yours, skin slick with sweat, pressing a languid kiss to your lips, trailing down, along your jaw, down to the sensitive area just beneath your earlobe. Your pulse point.

“Doin’ so well for me, Love,” he told you. And from the veins bulging beneath his skin, his scars and tattoos underlined by a constellation of capillaries and a cacophony of life, you knew he was telling the truth.

Simon can remember every single point that led to this. At first, it was your meeting. Fated, it seemed. Especially now as the two of you lay with your legs tangled together, fingers interlocked and bodies all but conjoined. 

For a man who’s always struggled with eye contact, this is the only time he’s ever enjoyed it. Peering into you, your eyes.

Simon knows you love him. Though, he doesn’t quite believe it given how he perceives you to be out of his league.

And, despite your assurances, Simon tends to get a bit…jealous.

Self-conscious.

He’s aware of the fact that the age gap between the two of you is wide enough to let some doubts slip in; doubts that, in your young age, you’ve made a horrible decision pursuing a man as grizzled as Simon.

But he never takes his insecurities out on you. Not outside the bedroom, at least.

If you’re going out with someone Simon views as competition, he has a tendency to leave you ‘something to remember him by’ — namely his cum rolling down your thighs and dripping into your underwear.

He loves watching you try to greet people normally, knowing that you were getting raw dogged just ten minutes before, the aftermath seeping into the fabric of your underwear, making you shift in your seat, trying to find a position where you’re not pressed against the sopping-wet fabric.

Simon wonders if, during those times, you think of him. The same way he thinks of you as his mind wanders and his hand slips across the waistband of his jeans, palming himself at the memory of your whimpering, the tears in your eyes as you tell him how good he’s making you feel.

His possessiveness gets the better of him sometimes, hence he sends you into the world with some part of you filled with his semen.

During these moments, his jealousy manifests in his roughness with you — in his need to make you feel things no other man can.

Other times, he’s gentle. Endearingly so. And those are the times you know he needs reassurance the most.

Card your hands through his hair, call him yours, tell him how much you love him. He’ll be the one moaning and whimpering into the crook of your neck, I guarantee it.

Given the nature of your relationship, Simon is not one to take risks.

Unlike Price, he won’t slip his hand up your thigh and tease you in public.

He won’t sit next to you of his own free will when you’re out with your father, and he won’t be nearly as talkative with you as when you’re alone together (which, given he’s Simon Riley, isn’t much to begin with, but there’s a difference only you can tell).

But you’ll feel his eyes on you, see the look of longing, of hesitant love — first love — lie within them.

To others, it’s a death stare. To you, it’s the closest thing to an ‘I love you’ you can get under such surveillance.

If anyone — especially your father — started getting suspicious of the nature of your relationship – your affair – Simon would act as if it’s business as usual. Pretend as if nothing’s wrong.

If the two of you suddenly change your behaviour, it’ll look even more suspicious – that’s what he tells you. But, of course, he doesn’t invite you over to his house as much; doesn’t placate your desire to go shopping by driving you into town. The most he’ll do is offer you his jacket when you’re cold – a bare bones gesture of goodwill and nothing more.

He longs for you in ways you can’t even fathom during your away-time, in ways he could never verbalise. But trust that, when you’re able to again, Simon won’t be letting you leave his house. Or the bedroom, for that matter.

You can expect him to be a lot more open and receptive to physical affection after that – in private, of course. 

Kisses to the crown of your head, longingly staring down at you as you lay against his side, holding your hand at every convenience, etc.

Simon is the BEST gift giver you could ask for. He spoils you silly, buying you anything your heart desires, be it clothes, jewellery, food; the world is yours when you’re with him.

He isn’t unwise with his purchases, however.

He’s observant, has a keen eye. He’ll see things you like before you do, and he’ll buy you things he knows you’ll love before you even have the chance to tell him.

Your bedroom is going to be near-bursting with all the things Simon’s bought you. But telling your father that you bought them all off the internet with your new job money (a job you had to fabricate to account for the many hours a day you’d disappear off with Simon and the sudden influx of cash coming your way).

It took a LONG time for Simon to start liking you. To start loving you.

The close proximity of his house to yours made your paths cross more times than he could count, leading to a daily conversation of some nature. ‘How are you?’ and ‘What are you up to?’ eventually turned into ‘Hey, can I ask you a question?’ — for you often asked Simon’s advice about issues you didn’t want to discuss with your father; a bold show of trust, Simon thought — and ‘Are you doing anything later today?’

The first time you’d interacted with your father’s mysterious friend beyond a superficial capacity had been when you’d helped him paint his fence (which, you noticed, he’d started sprucing up after you’d suggested it to him a few weeks prior). Sure, you thought he was attractive, a nice, albeit very quiet, personality, and decided to lend him a hand on your way back from a walk one morning.

You stayed there the whole day, talking to Simon throughout.

It felt like this was the first time you’d actually met him. The first time you’d managed to get more than three words out of him.

Sure, most of his answers were stunted, but you could tell they were truthful. And yet, you also knew he was hiding something. Many things, in fact. Things you didn’t push for, instead opting to tell Simon about yourself, relinquishing details about your life, your hobbies – anything to make you appear more like a person and less like a nuisance.

He painted, too. Though, he’d often find himself distracted by the sight of you in your shorts, bent in a way that, to a man as pent-up and lonely as Simon, could be seen as provocative.

He felt icky. Like a creepy old man spying on his younger neighbour.

He did try to distance himself after that, uncomfortable with the thoughts that ran through his head for the entirety of your time together.

Unfortunately for him, however, you were persistent. Hadn’t seen the hungry glow in his eyes whenever you wore something slightly revealing.

He felt like lecturing you, telling you to cover up — to not flaunt yourself so readily. Didn’t you know lecherous men (him) lurked around every corner ?

Another part of him felt like enabling you. Wanted to see as much of you as you’d let him. You were the first pretty thing to wander into Simon’s sights in a long time – one that hadn’t fled or disappeared at his behest.

One day, you’d dressed yourself in a flimsy little shirt and shorts and the weather had taken a turn for the worse. You and Simon had rushed back to his house, the shelter closest to you. There, seeing you soaking, your shirt sticking to your body, Simon did the gentlemanly thing and offered you a hoodie of his to keep warm in.

He’d never given someone his hoodie before. Not in this capacity, at least (Johnny didn’t count because Sergeant MacTavish had actually stolen Simon’s hoodie and worn it without asking.)

The sight of you drowning in the fabric made the breath in Simon’s throat catch.

In that second, you weren’t the byproduct of his best friend. You were small, defenceless, and indebted to him.

Simon hadn’t been able to see you the same way since.

No longer did he take pleasure in watching you bend over for one thing or another. Now, he looked for opportunities to care for you.

Subtle shows of his growing fondness for you. His need to take care of you.

And…well, you know the story from here ;-).

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

-okok this is a continuation from the dom ghost hcs! so like i said that man loves giving you the princess treatment and so you do no chores around the house! this most comes from how clumsy you are tho </3 he saw you try so hard to help him with the yard work once and he felt like you needed to be wrapped in bubble wrap after. You tripped over the hose more than once, pricked your finger on a thorn, and nearly took your eye out with a trowel. needless to say he didn’t need any accidents in the future and decided to be in control of it all.

thank you for adding me!!!🫶🫶🫶

🖤 Best Simon "Ghost" Riley Fics On Tumblr 🖤

Part One • Part Two • Part Three • Part Four

♡ Fluff ♡

Let Simon Riley Cry 2024 ~ @themotherofhorses

OlderBf!Simon ~ @heavenbarnes

Pizza ~ @euno11a

This is... Love? [Smut] ~ @codtrashsammy

Marriage ~ @void-my-warranty

Smitten ~ @tojisun

He's Drunk :/ ~ @notspiders

Edibles ~ @httpsghostie

Viking!Simon [Dad!Simon] ~ @dante-mightdie

Can't Get It Up ~ @heavenbarnes

Can't Perform ~ @euno11a

Body Type ~ @oceantornadoo

Old Wound [Hurt/Comfort?] ~ @cntloup

Rough Mission ~ @lunarduty

Grim Reaper! Simon x f!reader | tw: death

Grim Reaper! Simon who's supposed to take you away, between life and death, after and before, here and gone.

Grim Reaper! Simon who watched you all day, couldn't help the cold dread that clouded him because you were so full of life, despite the mess, you woke up and made your coffee. Choosing your clothes and saving that very expensive dress for some other time, some special day — not knowing this is the last, your most special. Instead picking on that shirt you loved for it's colour, not knowing it would end up only red.

Grim Reaper! Simon who stood helplessly when life was squashed out of you. One moment of extreme pain and then nothing at all. People screaming and pitying and murmuring, while you clutched your chest and raised above, looking around — blinking and confused, until you looked down and your pupils widened. Oh..gone.

Grim Reaper! Simon who clasped your hand as you cried and lamented, a life you hated so much and yet you loved it just the same. Glancing back at the flesh, hands outstretched as if begging you to not leave, same eyes, same face, same fucking everything — just lifeless.

Grim Reaper! Simon who held your soul as you wept and sobbed, it wasn't your fault...you were just trying to save the puppy, it wasn't — but now you were dead. No prayer would count. And these people around you, they're just watching your lifeless frame while you cry and cry.

Grim Reaper! Simon who knew how it went, one snap and you were truly gone to the other side. “T-this it it ? Is this the end ?” you sobbed more, remembering your goodbyes, did you tell you mum that you loved her, or did you tell dad his burnt toast were your favourite, did your friend knew they were so amazing and you loved them ?

Grim Reaper! Simon who could read your mind, “No. Come now.” he echoed, lifting you away from your dead body, just flesh that resembled you, all those things that made you a real person crumbled under those rubber tyre, now nothing but memories.

Grim Reaper! Simon who shaked his skeleton of a head, covered with his ghostly black hood, swaying like cloak behind him. You wouldn't stop crying, he couldn't bear that. “No, sweetheart.” He traced your jaw, letting those tears vapour in a whoosh,“Not yet. Not so soon. Not for you.”

Grim Reaper! Simon who took you back to your apartment, letting you take it all, your fingertips against smiling people trapped behind glasses, your cat purring in her cushion, notes sticked around, empty checkboxes that would never get ticked.

Grim Reaper! Simon who held above the dress you'd saved. “You would look so lovely.” he kept, ‘You always do.’ to himself, he sat as you licked the last bit of Nutella and patted your cat, oblivious to so many things.

Grim Reaper! Simon who took you to the beach because you never got time to go one, never had anyone to go with you. Now was the time and company.

Grim Reaper! Simon who sat beside you watching the last bits of rays disappearing into nothingness, letting sky turn darker and stars twinkle in it's wake.

Grim Reaper! Simon who might be smiling just a bit when you want to go for a night walk, with no fear and no worries. He's swaying behind you, while you are almost flying with new freedom, a new sense of living or dead taking over you. There was a before that you loved but there's also an after that awaits. It's okay, Simon had said. It's going to be okay.

Grim Reaper! Simon who took you on rooftop because you wanted to see the city, the whole fucking city. “How you wanted to go ?” He found himself speaking, he never did that, it's a simple affair — guide them to the other side, that's it. You rewarded him with a smile, “Like this.” You whispered, he would hear it anyway, “I wanted to be gone like this...on my own will, L-like —” You choked on your own words, “— to jump from a very tall somthing.” and that's the irony, your life was squashed out of you, no fall and no wind smashing your face and nothing like you thought.

Grim Reaper! Simon who would grant all your wishes, “Come” he said, the second time. First, he said it when he was pulling you back while your eyes were struck on those that belonged to you, the very same but truly empty — gone before it's time.

Grim Reaper! Simon who wanted you to be happy, forever if he could help it. He took your hand in his and floated to the edge, across the horizon. There's sun rising from new beginnings, “I can't die a second time.” you laughed, a soft choke in your throat. Your stomach twisted in your guts and it's shouldn't be like this. You should feel empty and whatever void meant to be, but this knot wouldn't let go.

Grim Reaper! Simon who shook his ghost of head, tilting his head affectionately to you, “No. but you can live.”

Grim Reaper! Simon who took the fall with you, in the dress you always wanted to wear, smelling like all the things you loved, your city and salt and your favourite perfume. A smile that was forever young and true. There with him, between life and death.

Masterlist

Please always take care. Someone somewhere loves you so much and you mean the world to them. Please remember, please know you're loved and blessed and mean so much more than you think. Xoxo.

simon riley that eventually gets his cat hybrid darling pregnant, it makes you all sleepy and lazy, carrying his offspring inside of you, and you both don't even know if they're going to be hybrids or just regular humans, but they give you a rather hard time, even without yet being born.

you're sleeping almost whole day, supple and round form curled in your shared bed with your fluffy tail encircling you, nuzzling against simon's pillow to breath in his scent, feeling content knowing that you reek of him, and he is as well.

when you awake, you either just padding around in sleepy haze, or nuzzling against simon all clingy and giddy, your hands encircling your round baby bump softly, little smile gracing your lips, as you purr in delight, so happy with the knowledge that you finally got pregnant by simon.

and he's caring about you, much more sweeter, putting all the teasing he had for you before aside, constantly lingering against your side, stroking behind your fluffy ears and at your growing bump, soft kisses and sugary words of adoration sent your way.

simon is nice even when you go all whiny and horny, rubbing your exposed, slick pussy all over his cock needily, needing him to just take you, and he gives you the most careful, tender sex, meaty cock stretching your pussy carefully, ramming into you shallowly, but enough for you to go brainless.

babble about how you want to be full forever, making it hard for him to hold back so he wouldn't rearrange your cunt completely, instead he hushes you with soft kisses against your drool coated lips, promising that he would give you more later, because you're already full with little ones.

main masterlist. quidelines.

thinking about dog hybrid!simon — an awful mutt by any means, not hiding his frequent irritation and sharp canines, twitching his sharp ear adorned with a ragged scar in displeasure, dark brown tail taps against his leg.

all the soldiers under his command scatter every time he walks by or focuses his voidless, dark gaze on them, any conversations instantly become quieter and heads bow in acknowledgment of their lieutenants presence, just as not to hear another harsh, barked command.

and it is worth imagining their surprise when he suddenly begins to behave much calmer, because it turns out that simon has found himself the prettiest human existing, you.

it's common for humans to be the owners of hybrids, but in your relationship it's the other way around — simon is so used to having control that he can't unlearn his old habits, only now there's constant horniness that has been added to his usual demeanor.

and you don't mind it, oh, you really like simon — with all his grumpiness, dark eyes framed by beautiful blonde eyelashes, his animal features that charmingly indicate his feelings, letting his brown tail wag quickly every time you stroke him or leave a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek.

and you always amused by his clinginess, even if it always ends with dry humping, when simon sneaks up on you from behind, enveloping your body and mapping your soft skin with calloused, thick palms, rolling his broad hips against your backside, as his tail thumps on his leg.

or your supple body under his muscular one, bend in the mating press by his pawing hands, as simon plunges his fat cock inside your tight, pulsing gooey pussy, emptying load after load from his weeping tip inside your fertile womb, drooling and growling like a real mutt, as you arch with chocked mewls and rolling eyes, while simon's canines sink into your neck.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

bouncing on simon's fat cock that nestled deep into your slimy, squelching cunt, you're wearing his pajama shirt with a cracked, frayed skull print on the dark fabric that lifts up with every slap of your supple ass against his muscular, lightly hairy thighs.

shirt flutters up every time you plunk down on his meaty shaft with a loud squelch of your gooey pussy, throbbing tip oozing pearly precum against your sleek walls as simon rolls back his head with noisy sighs and growling moans, beefy hands pawing at your pretty body through the black fabric.

you don't let him get under the shirt to squeeze and stroke your naked skin, slide up to tease your perky nipples, you only lean closer to cover his neck with sharp bites and hot kisses, watching the fair skin turn burning red under your soft lips.

your delicate fingers crawl between your own legs, touching the slick of juices that smear the inside of your willowy thighs, finding the throbbing nub of your engorged clit, flicking the puffy flesh and making the walls of your cunt pulse and clench, which pulls chocked, whiny moan out of simon's thin lips

— “bloody hell, g-god — i'm close, s-sweetheart, slow the heck down!„ yet you don't hear his plea, all the sounds in your ears are incoherent buzz as you arch your back like a cat, white flash of pleasure rolls through your body, making your gooey cunt clamp on simon's fat cock, spurting with your sweet, creamy cum.

it triggers his own orgasm, causing simon to twitch as his dark eyes roll back back into his skull, calloused hands roughly grip the curve of your waist, pinning you in place, letting his cock press into your spongy spot and jerk with spurting ropes of his thick load.

simon's ragged gasps lost against the background of your sweet, slurred mewls of — “s-si! fuckfuckfuck, feels good!„ as he fills you with jerking hips and shallow pumps till your combined cum leaks from your creamed pussy back towards his hairy pelvis.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

Y'all please cage me.

cw: hybrids, dubcon (?), trapping, knotting and things.

dog hybrid simon riley that tries to mount you, it's not his fault, it's his owner who's responsible for bringing a sweet, docile kitten in the house that already has a big dog, he's never showed his affection to any possible animals around, even to his own specie, how he should, but upon meeting you, soft, supple thing with groomed tail and fluffy ears, he remembers he has a cock to stuff and breed.

you expected him to scent you and then forget about you, after all, he's a scary dog, and the man that took you promised that he's lazy and wouldn't even bat an eye at you, but as soon as your feet touched the floor, simon bumped you down on the parquet floor with his whole, heavy weight, pressing his rugged mug between your legs, huffing out a terrifying, pleases groan, his tail wagging left and right.

it's led to you almost clawing his eyes out, hissing and scurrying as far away from him as possible, threatening that you'll slice his face if he'd try it again, defensive little thing, a sight that pulls a lopsided grin to his pale lips, making your fur stand up on your ears and body, forgetting about trying to make up friends, knowing best than talking to this horny mutt.

yet simon plays it off, acts as apologetic as he can, tucking his excited tail between his burly legs, lowers his ears down, almost manages to do these honeyed, puppy eyes when he passes you across the house, getting under your fur, by helping you, giving you his sleeping place while the owner orders a new one for you, even stoles some treats for you from the kitchen.

anything, just to lower your awareness of him, making you warm up to an unruly mutt and feel comfortable with and beside him, pushing his inappropriate behavior to pure curiosity, seeing that he ain't trying to do something like that again, even through there's a sleazy murkiness to his eyes you can't piece together, until your heat doesn't hits you.

you come to him willingly, padding from your bedding to his, where he's all sprawled out, deep asleep with rumbling snores, and your mind to hazy to comprehend what's happening, why it's so hot, why you're all leaky between your furry, supple thighs, plopping beside him with loud, needy purrs, as you rub against his whole body, ass perched out with your pretty, curving spine.

simon knew you'd come, waited for your heat to struck, for you to seek him as your comforter, nuzzle your adorable face with whiny mewls in his thick palm, he's not a patient dog, and he won't torture you by acting like he's asleep, so he rises and tugs you close, pressing you into his bed, making you arch sweet and sharp enough to present your needy, fluttering hole, messy with dripping slick.

he eats your pussy properly, messes his whole maw with your slick and creamy cum, nose pressed in your silken, soaking fur, while he flattens his rough, thick tongue against your puffy folds and bumpy, swollen clit, slurping down on you when he nudges at your slit, licking further to your clenching hole, stuffing you with at least something for a short time, preparing you for his knot.

you welcome his chubby cock properly, your hole tight, yet so slick that simon is able to sheathe himself along your rippling, pulsing walls in couple of squelchy slides, flicking his finger against your throbby, little bud of nerves, looking at the way you purr and meow in pleasure as he stretches you out, filling you so full your soft, little tummy bulges out from his girth.

simon will knock you up, knot your tight pussy nice, making you claw at his wide shoulders while he slobbers over your fluffy, plump tits, rough tongue torturing your perky nipples, suckling wet kisses on your tender body, that would be even more so after he'd make sure you're pregnant with his chubby pups, as you keen his name and plead him to breed you.

ears pressed tight to your head, flicking at each pound of his engorged, fattening cock in your leaking hole, rutting his thickening tip against your cervix, your spongy spot rubbing against his veiny shaft rapidly, making you writhe, turning his wide, muscular back in a mess of bleeding crescent scratches, as your long tail wraps around his leg, brushing against his thumping one, accepting simon's popping knot with pitchy meows and gushy hole.

your pregnancy would be an owners problem by the morning, when he'd stumble across you tucked against simon's solid chest, purring in your peaceful slumber after being sufficiently filled with loads of potent, thick cum, morning air filled with guttural, protective growls and clogging scent of sex, and it's seems like it's wouldn't be easy to make simon stay away from you from now on.

main masterlist. quidelines.

HEHEEHEEHEHHEHEHEH THE WAY I READ THIS 20 TIMES.

being simon's riley barracks bunny, belonging only to your lieutenant, mean bastard to everyone, but not you, he can't treat the docile sweetheart that warms his bed poorly, not after he turned you from a proper soldier to just his personal, cum dump.

you naively believe that not a single soul knows about your unstable relationships, that you wear sucked kisses and bite marks on your skin under layers of clothes, speckling your skin from the curve of your neck and down from between your thighs, not to even talk about the leaking, creamy mess in your cotton panties.

but everyone knows, memorized your moans by the way they turn pitchy when simon spreads your dangling legs and presses your knees on either side of your head, dark irises of his eyes blown with pooling hunger, every snap of his wide hips makes the fat girth of his twitching cock slide in your tight pussy with obscene squelch, stretching your snug, pulsing gummy walls.

they know how you sound when he get's particularly rough, fucking into your from behind, headboard of the bed rattling against the wall with each sobbing whimper of yours, babbling mindlessly for simon to not stop, that you feel his cock so deep, and he growls like a beast, chest rumbling behind your dewy, arched back, as his calloused hands palm at the globs of your ass.

simon makes sure every noise is heard, the rapid, ringing slaps that sting on your skin, the way he pants a sultry commands for you to obey for, each of them emphasized by your sweet, syrupy whine, gasping slurred “yes, sir„ that only spur him on, until your brain doesn't turn in complete mush, eyes glassy as you sob with each jab of his bulbous, leaking tip against your spongy spot.

no one ever brings up your relationship without looking at the fact that simon never hides it, dragging you with him like an adorable pet, holding you on his lap, or sending you away in a loud enough whisper to warm his bed in his chambers before he arrives, and when anyone sees your absolutely nude picture on his cracked, phone home screen, they don't open their mouth.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[s]creams.

simon riley wearing jeans, it's just a simple pair of blue, nothing particularly new in his wardrobe, the knees slightly washed off from the countless amounts of being dirtied up, scraped and then washed up, but the way he looks in them makes you unsettled, fidgeting without tearing your dancing gaze off his brawny body.

meaty thighs hugged tightly by the fabric, growing more loose at his calfs, but holding securely at his wide hips and round ass, your eyes tracing every dip and twitch of his muscles beneath the fabric, and simon knows you're looking, sees the way your legs clench together sweetly, there's no doubt that you're soaked wet by just looking at your man, digging with your fingers in your knee caps.

that's how simon makes you hump his thigh, rocking your hips in desperate circles and messy jerks while you rub your dripping pussy raw against his jeans, a teared hole at the gusset of your soaked, cotton panties, as you wet the outline of his chubbed cock beneath the harsh fabric with glistening strings of pooling slick, his girth swollen and throbbing with leaking precum, but he's too focused on making you soak his pants.

fingers splayed on your hips, helping you rock forward, canting them for better pleasure as you spill keening moans from your slack lips, pebbled clit dragging just right across his tensed, clothed muscles, and you hiccup, chasing the feeling through the spasms in your trembling thighs and liquid heat across your tummy that makes your toes curl, as simon purrs in your ear about what a sight you are.

main masterlist. quidelines.

This has destroyed all wattpad fanfics in five paragraphs.

I've read lots of fanfics and headcanons about Ghost with partners who are usually kind, pure, like a angel, all flowers and butterflies and stuff etc. I get it, but no offense, and looking at it from another perspective, when you think about people who have experienced childhood trauma, they tend to repeat certain patterns. I'm not saying that every person with a traumatic past will have a toxic relationship.

But, you see: I personally believe that Ghost would never give a chance to someone he deems "perfect," innocent, pure, because that's completely opposite to how he sees himself. How could he be in a relationship with someone so different from him? How could he be understood by someone who doesn't have a certain darkness within? I'm not saying it wouldn't work, but I think a part of him would never fully reveal itself out of fear of being judged. On the other hand, I believe he would also seek out people who, in some way, are unattainable, to reaffirm that little voice inside him saying he doesn't deserve to be loved. Of course, none of this is really true, but that's how the mind of someone with many traumas tends to work.

I think he would avoid relationships and commitments for a long time, and wouldn't be able to choose someone outside of his field of work. "Normal" people could never understand the things he does, they could try, but never fully comprehend. In my opinion, he would fall in love, without realizing it, with someone from his field of work, probably a teammate with whom he shared many experiences. Someone with whom he has a deep connection. And, as I mentioned at the beginning, I believe he would unconsciously seek out more complex people. I see him attracted to people with a similar outlook on life, who are tougher and more realistic. Who share a darker sense of humor. Who have also experienced some kind of trauma in the past, so they can understand how he feels. I imagine him in a relationship with someone who has these characteristics, and unlike him, is ambiverted or extroverted. Someone who challenges him, calls him out when he's wrong, or is determined. Someone honest, but not rude. Someone funny, smart, creative. Someone with a thirst for adventure and a spark, to contrast with some parts of him.

But honestly, I can't picture him with someone he deems pure and perfect. He doesn't feel worthy or even attracted to that. He tends to surround himself with people who are similar to him because that's where he feels comfortable. Just to clarify, it doesn't necessarily mean that this partner in question would be a bad or toxic person, but simply someone similar to him. I believe Price is the best example of that, who is good but not innocent, not entirely right.

In the end, I think the relationship with the chosen person would be a challenging but functional one. Not toxic, not abusive or destructive, just difficult. Traumatized people are human and fully capable of relating to each other, but it takes patience and determination, and a lot of work. I think that over time, they would improve greatly. Because Ghost's biggest fear is one-sidedness. He needs to know that he is protecting and helping, but he also needs to feel protected and helped.

Agreed.

Is ghost blonde or does he match his VA appearance with the red hair?

Short answer; i'm not sure Had the same ask before from a mutual

If Ghost doesn't dye his hair, i like to believe he has naturally brown hair. Buut seeing Samuel Roukin's hair color it doesn't seem far off, Ghost's hair seems a bit darker tho.

Also because he has brown hair and eyes in the og (comic) :3

Just thinking about how overprotective Simon would be with his girl because of his tragic past. And if the missus is pregnant? Much more protective if it’s possible. He wouldn’t let her going out without him or drink too much alcohol. And let’s not talk about working together. He DEFINITELY would take a bullet for you. Simon Riley is traumatised by the ghosts of his past, and he is scared of them coming back and taking her girl from him. So forgive him if he gets addicted to control you, he’s just trying to protect you and keep alive the person that gives sense to his life.

Fellt inspired, might delete later.

Simon Riley fucking you like this, Simon Riley fucking you like that… okay, buy what about Simon Riley making love to you.

He can be a kind person sometimes. Just imagine it. Missionary position and soft thrusts and him moaning in a low tone. He would say that you’re so perfect and gorgeous, how long has he waited to have you like this…

He is a normal human being, he would like to experience pleasure like all of us. Some days it can be gentle and sweet and some other days he would fuck like it’s his last day on earth.

Just some intrusive thoughts I had, I dislike almost all of the hard porn about ghost in here.

Attractive Things Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley Does Pt.II

simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader, sprinkled with mentions of soap, price, graves, gaz

genre: fluff

warnings: slightly suggestive, cursing, graves being flirty 

synopsis: some more attractive habits/quirks that ghost does that make the reader weak in the knees! headcanon edition! 

a.n. i’m overwhelmed with the amount of support I’ve gotten for the first one so I drafted this as quickly as I could to show how grateful I am! <3 also your comments/reblog hashtags make me cACkLE,, pls keep it coming! *quietly posts this and runs away* 

Keep reading

deadpool!ghost (a playlist)

gang... went and saw deadpool vs wolverine today. opening instantly had me thinking of ghost, even tho i'm a price girlie at heart.

STILL TAKE YOU HOME - arctic monkeys (DON'T FEAR) THE REAPER - blue oyster cult CARELESS WHISPER - george michael BASTARD - motley crue BOOGIE WOOGIE WOO - insane clown posse GOLD DIGGER - kanye west, jamie foxx FUCKIN' IN THE BUSHES - oasis CHANGE (IN THE HOUSE OF FLIES) - deftones WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE - guns n' roses CREEP - radiohead SABOTAGE - beastie boys DEALER - lana del rey FAKE TALES OF SAN FRANCISCO - arctic monkeys ANDREW IN DRAG - the magnetic fields THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD - nirvana (a david bowie cover) WICKED GAMES - HIM ACE OF SPADES - motorhead HOKUS POKUS - insane clown posse

ok wtv this took way too long my spotify is here if you wanna follow. some of these are more based on simon and some more on deadpool but they work together ok? ok.