That’ll do!

just writing and reading about the big guy with the skull face Saturn \ 90s kid \ they|them \ side blog \ 18+ only \ fuck AI

[ifuhaveghost]

𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 | AO3 | all works 18+

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

stray | ongoing series | Explicit A masked stranger in a pub has nothing to say to you, wants nothing to do with you - right? - and has no plans in sticking around.

But even the toughest strays like to be inside sometimes.

Mission Gothic Romance | ongoing series | Explicit online dating AU

no place like you | oneshot 670 words | smut

blurb tag

---

fic recs

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[the-dragon-hearted]

I raise you:

[ghouljams]

ghost found you the way he assumes you found your collection of stray cats, soaked to the bone from a sudden storm and crouched behind a dumpster to hide from someone who wouldn't think twice about hurting you.

it must be that soft spot that soap keeps insisting he has that makes him stop with his cigarette half lit and stare at you shivering in the cold, well past the hour when pretty things should be home or in someone else's bed, your mascara running rivers down your cheeks and your lipstick smeared, a nice bruise blooming on your cheek where someone hit you (probably the same person that smeared your lipstick). you look up at him with wet eyes and a pitiful expression and he can't stop himself from offering you the cigarette, eager to taste your lipstick stain when you hand it back to him with shaking fingers. it feels like the beginning of the end to invite you upstairs to the little attic flat he's renting.

he doesnt pretend to be a gentleman when he offers you a towel and tells you to warm up in the showrr, doesnt turn around or avoid staring at you when you hesitantly strip. just as well when you pilfer one of his shirts and curl up on the mattress he's shoved in the corner, your lips still trembling as you hold your arms out to him.

its a bad move, mixing business with pleasure, but ghost hates the city and he can't say he feels bad turning his back on it to bury his face between your soft thighs. the same way he doesnt feel bad exchanging numbers in the morning when you set off to wherever home is with a pep in your step. the sex is meaningless, its a time killer for an otherwise boring mission

so then why does he feel his stomach clench when you tell him you'll miss him? why does he recognize your strays with the same familiarity as spotting gaz at the pub? why does he keep a budget line running for that shitty little attic flat that he said he was never coming back to?

and why the fuck do you keep texting him like you were something more than a convenient hole for him? (and why is he starting to think there might not be anything convenient about you?)

[peg-the-empire]

i love making friends in fandom, i love playing with our toys together, i love coming up with increasingly niche aus, i love lifting strangers up, i love motivating people to create, i love watching someone get excited over an idea and immediately running with it, i love yelling in tags together, i love seeing someone gain confidence in their writing/art because people were kind to them <33

[theorist-fox]

Call of Duty Masterlist

Back to Main Masterlist

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Series

You Flourish Before You Die Or; how Simon met his sunshine.

In The Walls (completed, 50k) Or; Simon f*cks his sergeant until he's not sure whether it's sex or love.

Good Hands Or; Simon saves you, but doesn't manage to save himself.

One shots

Some type of skin (and two keys) (5k) CW: grief, death and loss, angst, hurt/comfort, mention of drugs.

There's no butler in The Usual Suspects 18+ (2.8k) CW: fluff, smut, spoilers for The Usual Suspects

Big Dog 18+ (3.3k) CW: smut, dom/sub dynamics, pre-negotiated kink, roleplaying, fake cheating, degradation, smoking.

Bug 18+ (3.4k) CW: smut, fluff, voyeurism, exhibitionism. Established Johnny/Reader + Simon

Birthday blues 18+ (2.4k) CW: fluff, depression, sexual objectification. meet cute.

Gemstones 18+ (4.2k) CW: angst, hurt/comfort, alcoholism, mentions of drug use, pregnancy

Perfect timing 18+ (2.1k) CW: smut, PWP, omorashi/bladder control, piss

fire burns, fire welds 18+ (10k) CW: angst, breakup, hurt/comfort, smut, dubcon

BITE ME 18+ (6k) CW: smut, virginity loss, fluff

Cherry Gin Fizz 18+ (5.6k) CW: smut, drunk sex, fluff

Simon makes you cum 18+ (2.8k) CW: smut, anorgasmia

Preferences 18+ (2.1k) CW: smut, choking, dom/sub dynamics

Flawed and Free 18+ (3.7k) CW: smut, PWP, omorashi/bladder control, piss

when you move, i move 18+ (5.1k) CW: smut, medication, low libido, porn watching

Drabbles

Insecure Simon Riley 18+

Simon gets a girlfriend (and cracks her lip)

Simon likes your lingerie 18+

Simon Riley knows he's not a good man

Simon is ticklish and you find out 18+

Simon and his equally as emotionally constipated partner (AO3)

Simon catches feelings 18+

Johnny's invited to dinner (Simon/Reader/Johnny) 18+

Simon tries something new 18+

Simon makes love to you 18+

Simon breaks your fever 18+

Simon comes back from deployment 18+

Simon has dinner 18+

Simon cracks you open 18+

Dark dresses lightly 18+

Simon paints 18+

England vs Italy

Hammer on hot iron, you mould me 18+

Simon scares you

Simon's tits

In Vino Veritas

Simon wears glasses 18+

Simon likes it rough 18+

Simon only needs a kiss 18+

John 'Soap' MacTavish

One shots

In your eyes I saw a longing, while I longed to lift you up 18+ (7k) CW: Smut, angst, hurt/comfort

Bug 18+ (3.4k) CW: smut, fluff, voyeurism, exhibitionism. Established Johnny/Reader + Simon

Rationally 18+ (5.4k) CW: canon typical violence, blood, fluff, suggestive smut

Drabbles

Johnny's invited to dinner (Simon/Reader/Johnny) 18+

John Price

One shots

Fair trade 18+ (10k) CW: smut, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional abuse, emotional manipulation

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

One shots

Whisky 18+ (4.3k) CW: fluff, smut, drunk sex

Find me in the future 18+ (4.8k) CW: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, soulmate/medieval fantasy AU

i will not ask you, neither would you 18+ (4.5k) CW: angst, smut, hurt/comfort, PTSD, panic attack

Drabbles

Kyle burns your pie

[twolegsandbleeds]

edition nine of simon ‘ghost’ riley who never learned how to flirt properly so is just horribly blunt with you all the time.

your ma calls mid getting ready. you're pacing back and forth in your underwear, trying to sound normal even as simon follows every movement of yours like a predator, one hand palming himself through his boxers.

you glare.

he smirks, unrepentant. hands slipping into his waistband and shoving his boxers down his thighs, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach; thick, heavy and already leaking just from the sight of you.

“‘ang up.” he murmurs.

you glare again, rolling your eyes. still trying to talk about sunday lunch with your ma like your boyfriend isn't grabbing your free hand and wrapping your fingers around his length; guiding you as you stroke him.

you trip over your words, eyes wide, bottom lip sucked between your teeth.

“tell ‘er you've gotta go, or i’m makin' you cum whilst she talks about fuckin’ potatoes.”

[shadow0-1]

You'll have to go through me

[valiants]

I’m curious to know how Johnny would behave if Ghost were the one to take the bullet from Makarov then come back Wrong(tm)

You got me, I love an AAU..... alas, I think Soap would be a LOT less subtle about it than Ghost was - because that's his man ALIVE

[baklavasudarajako]

Bro is a lil shy :3

[twolegsandbleeds]

cw:afab!reader, references to depression/medication, soft!simon. 2k words

“can we book in sex on friday evening?” your voice cuts through the silence of your shared lounge - almost hesitant.

not hesitant like you're expecting to be rejected, hesitant in the way someone is when they feel out of practice. when somewhere along the way they lost all their powers of seduction.

simon looks up over the page of the book he's reading - eyebrows furrowed before they relax, like he's trying to make sure you're not asking out of some misplaced sense of obligation.

“friday works.” he confirms, “be back late so you'll… have some time to yourself first. to do your… preparations.”

preparations.

the polite way to say you'll either watch or listen to or read some porn in the bath before he gets home to try and kick start your body and brain into getting onto the same page about wanting to fuck.

you snort softly at the phrasing before nodding, "okay. just let me know when you're on your way home."

quiet settles over the two of you again, peaceful, yours.

then simon clears his throat.

"the new meds seem to be helpin'." he says quietly. "yer smilin' more. s'nice."

you nod, once. "they are." you confirm quietly. there's a beat of silence and then, "… sorry they've broken my fanny."

simon just shakes his head, brown eyes meeting yours. "not broken. an' don't be sorry. rather have you 'appy than horny. only one of those is important to me. an' it's not the availability of yer cunt."

your ears get hot at the bluntness, but your chest tightens with relief at his words. but still. there's a twinge of guilt in your stomach, like you're somehow not keeping up your end of the bargain you made when you decided to be each other's.

"i know. you always say that. but…"

"no buts." he cuts you off firmly, no room for argument. "no ifs. no fuckin' anythin'. i love you. i love yer smile and yer laugh. an' yeah, i love fuckin' you. but i'd rather you were smilin' at my bad fuckin' jokes again than drippin' all over the house."

Si ❤️: 10 mins off

Si ❤️: don't rush. take your time

Si ❤️: gonna shower in the en suite. you'll take one whiff of me and absolutely change your mind

Si ❤️: (which would be fine. no pressure. didn't think before i sent that.)

the messages overlay the porn playing on your phone screen one by one.

you don't pause the video right away - let yourself stay in the little bubble of horny you're trying to build. the bathwater is going lukewarm around you, but your skin feels warmer now from the small spark of anticipation that's beginning to grow in your stomach.

you can't help but feel a small twinge of grief that six months ago this same activity would have had you throwing yourself at simon - that six months ago you didn't even need to prepare to have sex with your husband. that it felt like the most natural thing in the world, not something you had to manufacture.

but then you remember his words "yer smilin' more. s'nice." and the grief fades, replaced with a pang of fondness so strong it almost hurts.

you let your eyes focus on the video again, letting the sounds of soft moans and the wet noise of skin on skin filter through your headphones; try and remember that the joy you see on the amateur couple's can be yours too.

you pause the video, typing back a quick message.

just getting out. haven't changed my mind. x

you dry off quickly, clean your teeth, slip into one of simon's old t-shirts; the black colour long faded to grey, band logo once printed on it lost to the passage of time. there's a hole in the hem and it's stretched out around the collar.

but it makes you feel safe, and that's what you need right now. not lace bodysuits and stockings. by the time you've padded into the bedroom you can hear the shower running - see that today's clothes didn't even make it to the washing basket in the bedroom, instead left in the one downstairs.

you wrinkle your nose - you know that means you're probably going to need to get the stain remover out later. but you appreciate that simon hasn't brought the smell of whatever it is up into your room. you light a few candles as you hear the shower switch off, pull the curtains and turn off the big light; leaving the room in a soft glow of the candles and bedside lamp.

little things you've learned make you feel more relaxed.

you're just settling on the edge of the bed as the en suite door opens - knees tucked up under your chin, heart beating a little faster than normal. simon appears, towel slung low on his hips, water still dripping down from his blonde hair and onto the scarred plain of his chest. his eyes find yours immediately, soft in the way they only ever are when he's looking at you.

"hi." you say softly, lips pricking up at the corners as you look at him.

fuck. it really does help the situation that he looks like that.

he crosses the room in two strides, one hand reaching to cup the back of your head as he leans down to kiss you - soft, slow; the kind of kiss that's a hello and isn't an expectation. his hand strokes up your bare thigh slowly; fingers pausing at the hem of your - his - t-shirt, stopping short of pushing it any higher. "hey dove," he replies softly. "missed this smile."

your smile. that's what he missed about this situation. that specific, soft, wanting smile that you only ever give him when you're about to get him in bed.

and it's that that has you pulling him down on top of you.

your t-shirt gets pulled off with careful hands; his towel lost somewhere to the floor. he ends up hovering over you, pressing kisses down your jaw, your throat, takes his time. his thumbs stroke an almost soothing pattern across your ribs as his lips trail lower - but when he reaches your stomach he pauses.

"tell me somethin'." he murmurs, "what were you watchin' in the bath?"

your face heats immediately, throat drying out as you stare down at him with an expression of absolute horror.

he just hooks your legs over his shoulders, presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, looks up at you expectantly.

"just… soft stuff." you manage to murmur back. "couple in their bed. they… they looked like they were enjoying it. not… faking it."

he presses a kiss higher up your thigh, then another, before his breath is ghosting over your core. his tongue traces a slow line from slit to clit; gentle, soft, curling through soft heat like he's not in any kind of rush.

your hips twitch.

simon hums against you, an almost approving noise; like he's proud you actually answered. "yeah? what were they doin'?" he flicks his tongue against you again - more targeted this time. you gasp slightly as he settles in, one arm slung across your hips, fingers tracing over skin. every motion he makes is purposeful - circling your clit, dropping down down to dip inside you, tracing every inch of you with his tongue in lazy strokes.

your fingers thread through his still damp hair, nails scratching over his scalp in the way you know he likes. "they were taking it slow." you breathe. "she was on her back like this. he kept… talking to her. telling her how good she felt."

"slow." simon repeats, "like this?" his lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently before soothing it with broader strokes. your fingers tighten in his hair enough that he groans - all enjoyment and no pain. "you liked hearin' how much he wanted 'er?"

"yes-" the word breaks into a low moan as he slides two fingers inside of you, curling them perfectly against the spot he knows so well; mouth still focussed on your clit. "fuck, si…"

he doesn't speed up. just keeps a steady, slow rhythm - eyes flicking up to watch your face. he pulls away enough to murmur gently, "i want you dove - all the fuckin' time. everything you do is so fuckin' sexy i feel like i'm goin' insane." a soft kiss to your clit, "'m sorry if i stopped tellin' you." another kiss, "jus'… don't want you to ever feel like you 'ave to jus' cause i'd live inside you if i could."

your eyes burn, hands dropping to brush your thumbs over his cheekbones. "i know si. i promise."

he nods once, satisfied that you're not lying to make him feel better by the wet shine in your eyes. he drags the flat of his tongue over your clit again. "was she makin' the same little sounds you make? the ones that make me fuckin' melt?"

you nod, hips rolling under his mouth; the combination of his mouth and hands and the gentle questioning pulling you under. the porn in the bath feels distant now - a distant second to the real thing: simon riley between your legs, focused solely on you, coaxing your body to the edge with nothing but patience.

when you come its with a soft, shuddering cry - the same noise he loves so much - pleasure rolling through you in warm waves as simon works you through it. he waits until your fingers are limp in his hair before pulling back entirely, then kisses his way beck up your body until he's braced over you again, propped on one elbow so he doesn't squish you under his bulk.

"still good?" he murmurs. his cock is hot and hard against your thigh; twitching against you as he presses a kiss against your neck - but he doesn't push forward, doesn't press. just rests his forehead against yours.

“yeah,” you whisper, reaching between you to stroke him gently. “i want you, si. want this.”

he kisses you again, tasting like you, and lines himself up. he presses in -slow, perfect - eyes locked on yours the whole time. your fingers trace the scars on his jaw, eyes widening as he bottoms out; filling you in a way that's so achingly familiar now. he pulls back, pushes in again; soft, shallow rolls of his hips.

you brush your nose against his. "you don't have to be so careful with me, si."

"i want to." he replies simply. "been thinkin' about this since you brought it up. about makin' you feel good."

you, not him.

you thighs slide to wrap around his waist on the next thrust, taking hip deeper just by the nature of the position and he groans - a wrecked noise that carves itself into your memory.

"this alrigh'?" he murmurs against your neck, hips snapping just a little harder; thumb sliding into the space between your bodies to rub gentle patterns against your clit.

you nod, jaw going slack as you feel heat flood your stomach again. "yeah. s'perfect." you manage to murmur back.

he presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth, keeping up that same steady rhythm. "i love you. i love you when you're happy, an' i love you when you're sad. i love you when you're horny and climbin' me like a tree an' when all you want t' do is watch greys anatomy on repeat an' eat little moons. nothin', fuckin nothin', matters to me as much as you do."

you bury your face in his neck, cheeks hot, eyes burning, "i love you too."

your second orgasm is like sinking into warm water; nerves lighting up hot one by one, teeth sinking into the curve of his his shoulder with a whimper of his name. he follows immediately after, the pulse of your cunt around him dragging him over the edge, face buried in your hair as he breathes you in.

he doesn't pull out right away - just holds you, fingers stroking over sweat damp skin, pressing lazy kisses to your temple.

"still smilin' down there?" he murmurs softly.

you huff out a soft laugh, body and brain soft with satisfaction. "yeah, si. still smilin'."

"good." he kisses the top of your head. "that's all i need, dove."

[hatsbuckets]

cw: it started cute and sweet and then horny dammit 😔 reader & 141 reader x ghost idk.

imagine giving the 141 forehead kisses as just like a little thing. Always Kyle and Johnny, so sweet and happy to take them.

Price chuckles and allows it.

Ghost you normally just make a little *smooch* noise in the air above his head.

Well, it seems Ghost didn't appreciate the non-commitment. Because this time he grabs your chin, surprisingly careful with its force, and brings your lips to his, rough fabric of the mask between you.

"All or nothin'," He says. "G'night, sweet'eart."

You don't move, just stand there, above him for a stunned two seconds. You can see the smirk in his eyes though.

And then you scoff. You swing your legs over his and hold his face in both hands, straddling him on the couch. You press your lips against his through the mask again, pressing your tongue against the fabric, tasting the sweat and then his own saliva there as his tongue meets yours. Finally past the startled freeze.

It's over as fast as it starts, pulling your head away as his chases for a moment more.

"Good night." You say, sour-sweet venom on your tongue. "Sweetheart." And push yourself back up.

You feel his eyes on you like a branding iron until you close the door with just enough slam.

[wyvern-whiskey]

[ifuhaveghost]

something something sci-fi AU something something shrinking ray and you come across a tiny!Ghost on the street at night, looking up at you like that right before he starts to climb you...

[ifuhaveghost]

just unearthed this WIP and man... this is actually not bad. should I... try and finish it? maybe that gets the muses out of hiding???

[hatsbuckets]

Simon learning simple magic tricks as a way to recover after roba, both mentally and with dexterity, getting to use those skills years later on a terrified group of children the 141 rescues.

They're all sat waiting on transport, wide eyed and teary, a couple of them full on shaking, and Simon can't stand watching it, so he crouches down and pulls a coin out. Makes it vanish. A couple of them stop crying long enough to watch. It's a start.

He does the ear trick next, coin appearing behind one of the kid's head, and that gets an actual reaction, this hiccupy little laugh from a little girl. So he keeps going, throws in the handkerchief thing too, the one where the coin somehow passes through, and by now a few of them have gone from crying to just watching him with their mouths open.

When he asks if they want to see it again, they give him so many nods and little disbelieving smiles. His best audience by far—and also his first.

One of the braver ones, an older kid, maybe ten, asks how he did it. Simon doesn't even think about it, just shows her and slows it down so the kid can see how. Then has her try it with her own hand. The kid's fingers keep fumbling it and she drops the coin twice, but she's not crying anymore, tongue stuck out the side of her mouth in concentration.

That gets two more kids crawling over wanting a go, and now Simon Riley, skull mask and all, is sat on the floor of some extraction point teaching a handful of traumatized children how to palm a coin, patient as anything. Gaz watches from a few feet off, smiling softly as the whole room seems to ease at the lifted weight.

[sunsetbuddie]

hey so anyone else just, feel thin. sort of stretched. like butter scraped over too much bread. like you need a holiday. a very long holiday. and you don't expect you shall return? or is that just me and bilbo baggins

[esta-elavaris]

Just got an ad for an AI app calling itself “the ultimate fanfiction creator.”

Like babe no, that’s me and my mutuals. The title has already been claimed by actual artists. And also go fuck yourself.

[future-crab]

The key to writing good fanfiction is to harbor a deeply humiliating desire, and the trick there is that even pretty basic and societally-accepted desires like “being held” and “being wanted” CAN and WILL be humiliating if they’re intense enough. Become so estranged from human connection that the idea of someone playing with your hair fills you with yearning so deep you feel like you’re going to throw up and you will write some banger fanfiction. It might have some other consequences too but idrk about that.