#NiceFic for other cod writers’ masterpieces that I reblogged.
Open for smut ideas/requests, will write it if I’m able to manifest it out. (I don’t want to write things I’m unfamiliar with and disappoint you, sorry)
Please feel free to recommend other writers’ work to my askbox, I'll be grateful cause I’m hungry.
thinking about fucking your lieutenant without taking any of your clothes off. (18+)
let's get one thing straight--it's not that you don't want to take your clothes off. it's that ghost doesn't.
he hasn't gotten over it. you're not sure what it is, but you felt it when you tried to put your hands under his tact vest for the first time--the tension of his body, the flinch that had you pulling your hands back as if your touch had burned him. you drool over your lieutenant, you have fucked yourself to stupidity many nights just thinking about him, but you don't want to cross any lines.
you did the mature thing--you asked. you asked him what it would take. what he might let you do. what he might be comfortable with. he swallows, voice low and gravelly, and he tells you that you can do whatever you want with him, but he doesn't want to take anything off.
fuck it, you think. suit yourself.
you can't help the noises. you're throwing your hips back, hands braced against the bedframe as you straddle your commanding officer. ghost is underneath you, knees propped up and boots planted flat on the bed, and he has his gloved hands rooted to your hips as you fit yourself right over his middle and bounce. it's a lot of effort to get off this way. with the added layers of clothes, you really have to put your back into it to get any stimulation on your clit, but once you found that sweet spot, the tip of his cock nudged against you just right, you found the momentum to give it to him good.
"fuck--" ghost chokes. you're so hot. your shirt is bunched up a little around your waist, and the neckline has dropped, and he's watching your tits bounce with your grinding hips as you chase your orgasm. he could tell you were close. as soon as you dragged your clit over the fat tip of him and found it, you became a fiend. your pace picked up, and he squeezed your ass with appreciation, and he couldn't look away from your tits, but he was sure you were wetting his cargos even fully-clothed.
"'m gonna come," you whine, and ghost fits his hand between your ass and squeezes, appreciating the fat of you as you show him just how good you'd ride his cock. your hips are working so hard, smooth, quick grinds that make his eyes roll back in his head.
"yeah? tha' good, innit?"
"oh--gonna come, gonna come--"
"give it t'me--"
you're shaking. you drop your weight on him, seeing stars, and you're buzzing with a dopey smile as you slow your hips. you kiss him through the mask, sticking your tongue out and licking over where his lips are before kissing him nice and sloppy.
when he turns you over, you just watch as he lowers himself down your body. with wide eyes, you're enraptured by the way he shoves your legs apart. he gazes down at you, mesmerized to see a wet spot on your cargos, and he hums before hiking the mask up over his nose and licking over his teeth.
"w-wait, ghost, what are you--ah!"
you jerk when a fat glob of his spit hits the seam of your zipper. he does it again, soaking the fabric, and you can't do anything but throw your head back and whine as he opens his mouth wide and shoves his face between your thighs.
it's really not so scary anymore. and now he needs the real thing.
the soft clatter of pots and pans fills the kitchen as you stir the bubbling pot of pasta sauce. the warm aroma of garlic and herbs drifts through the house, mingling with the faint sound of the tv playing in the living room. amidst it all, your toddler’s tiny voice breaks through, high-pitched and filled with excitement.
“mummy, i want the braid! the one rapunzel has!” she calls from the couch, holding a toy brush in her small hands.
you glance over your shoulder, a small smile tugging at your lips. “later, sweetheart,” you say, your voice gentle but distracted. “mummy’s making dinner right now.”
there’s a pause, and then the sound of her humming to herself, followed by the occasional soft giggle. it’s enough to make you peek out of the kitchen, curiosity getting the better of you. what you see stops you in your tracks.
simon, your husband—your hulking, stoic husband—sits on the floor behind your daughter. his large hands, so used to wielding weapons and carrying the weight of the world, now work with a surprising delicacy. he’s carefully braiding her fine hair, his expression one of focused determination. your daughter is practically glowing, a radiant grin on her face as she chatters away, oblivious to how tender the moment is.
your heart softens, warmth blooming in your chest as you lean against the doorway, watching them. simon glances up briefly, catching your eye. there’s a flicker of something in his gaze—a mixture of pride and amusement.
“you’re lucky she doesn’t want the full rapunzel treatment,” he murmurs, his deep voice laced with dry humor. “i’d need a ladder.”
you laugh softly, shaking your head. “you’re doing great, love,” you say, meaning every word.
years pass in the blink of an eye. your little girl is no longer so little, and the house feels quieter, the once-constant chaos of toddler life now replaced by the rhythm of a teenager’s world. tonight, your daughter has a party to attend. she’d asked you earlier to iron her hair, a request you’d readily agreed to.
but somewhere between the dishes and the laundry, exhaustion crept in. you’d sat down for just a moment and fallen asleep. when you wake with a start, panic surges through you. you glance at the clock, your heart sinking as you realize how much time has passed.
“oh no,” you mutter, scrambling to your feet. “her hair—”
you rush out of the room, searching for her, guilt already gnawing at you. when you find her, the sight that greets you makes you stop short.
she’s sitting in front of the vanity in her room, scrolling casually through her phone. behind her stands simon, a flat iron in one hand and a comb in the other. his movements are slow and precise as he smooths out her hair, section by section.
your daughter barely looks up from her phone, her trust in her father’s meticulousness evident. but you can see it—the care in simon’s touch, the way he handles her hair like it’s the most delicate thing in the world. his expression is the same as it was all those years ago, when he braided her hair for the first time: focused, patient, and filled with an unspoken love.
your heart melts at the sight, the guilt dissolving into something softer, sweeter. leaning against the doorway, you smile to yourself, the memory of a tiny girl and a father’s careful hands blending seamlessly with the present.
“you’re amazing, you know that?” you say softly, your voice breaking the quiet.
simon glances at you, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a faint smirk. “just don’t expect me to start charging for haircuts,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but warm.
your daughter, still focused on her phone, rolls her eyes with a groan. “dad, you’re so lame.”
you laugh quietly, your heart full to bursting. watching them, you realize some things never change—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
YES this will be a serie NO i'm not normal about him. assholes to lovers kinda. shoutout to pookie @simp4konig absolute angel for proofreading this 🩷
You want to hate your captain, John Price, SO so bad. That man pisses you off in the worst way possible.
Now, did he do anything particular for you to be mad with him? Not really. But you know better than to ignore your gut feelings. You know better than to get too close with your coworkers; or, in this case, superiors.
John Price is a professional, been years in this position, has nerves of steel, and is being showered in praise, soldiers applauding his achievements left and right.
But that didn't sit right with you. You were under his direct command — there was a reason for you to fear for your life.
Price is often laid back and casual with everyone, he gets to know his new subordinates over a couple drinks on a weekend, makes conversations a little longer with new recruits in the hallways, offers help to the new secretary that is not so subtly fawning over him.
He was overall… friendly.
But when it comes to making decisions, you're nothing but a pawn for him.
No one is safe in this job. If you're on the battlefield, you already know that your time will come on the dirty soil of a deserted town, among the moldy walls of a crumbling building, or at the hands of your enemies.
You better have calculated your options when you signed up for this — the rest is up to your captain to determine what you'll be useful for.
His order, your command. Whatever the outcome may be, everyone knows that the captain is doing it for the best.
You're not exactly blaming your captain for doing his job — you're just annoyed by how amiable he acts on the base, feigning friendliness, as kills in cold blood on a regular basis. Any day you're deployed under his command can be your last.
He's not exactly at fault, yet you still act your best like you hate him. Whenever he's sweet talking you, you're just brushing it off, claiming you have responsibilities to attend to. Whenever he's inviting you out with his sergeants, you're turning him down, knowing deep down it's not particularly you they want with them there, it's just "the more the merrier" as they say, so you simply reject them and go straight home.
This mission… was particularly rough: no sleep for 2 days; no food for a week; and no connections for two. The situation was dire and you're really thankful you came back alive, it's pure luck considering the nasty bullet wound on your thigh that made you run a fever in those conditions.
You came back alive thanks to your captain, but you also got injured because of your captain too, insisting you're best fit for sneaking into enemy's territory, gripping your shoulder a little too tight and offering you a faux smile as he lists his instructions before you can voice your protests.
You're wearing the meanest scowl on your face as you replay these memories in your head, trying your best to walk down the corridor with this stupid crutch.
It's not like your destination is worth that much of a friendly expression, since captain Price's office is the last place you want to be right now, but you need your papers signed by him so you can finally go home and not see him for at least a month after these events.
You don't bother to knock, pushing the door open and scanning the room. You're greeted by the sight of him seated comfortably on the couch, legs thrown on the coffee table and papers in hand. It takes everything not to break down right here right now, his words running through your head again and your wound pulsing with agonizing pain.
You could turn back and ask for Kyle — or anyone, really — to bring you your documents. In fact, you could leave right now if you wanted.
Then, why is it when he calls your name, hot tears finally stream down your face? Why, when he gestures for you to come closer to him as he stands up, you don't question him and make your way to him, barely taking a step without wincing at the burning pain? Why, when he opens his arms and pulls you closer, you wrap your arms around his waist, burrowing your face into his chest and let your tears wet his shirt? Why, when he runs his hands up and down your back and whispers sweet reassurances in your ear, you don't protest? At all?
Maybe it's not him that you exactly crave at this moment, but his tender touch and comforting words that you need. A gentle hand on your head as he sweet talks you into relaxing, insisting everything is okay now.
Maybe, for a moment, everything will be okay.
Maybe if you let him treat you well like the lover you never had, you will feel like everything will be okay.
Lé Fish I want König to smother himself between my thighs. He'd love it, I'd love it. Just needs to happen lol
Your want is his need babe. He's just so desperate to press himself against your warmth, barely even asking at all except for a head tilt centimeters away from your crotch. Baby blue eyes pleading with you while his large hands pry your thighs apart even when they threaten to close on him.
Even with the mask on you can see the way his eyes furrow, most likely biting his lip behind the fabric until he gets the go ahead. Prying and pushing you down softly onto the nearest soft surface so he can close his eyes into something warm for once. His face is freezing cold and its the only place he'll search for comfort sometimes. Too horny to resist and yet too tired to fuck.
Maybe he'll just take a quick nap. His hands are loose around the outside of your thighs. Holding their claim lightly while he slumbers. He won't even wake when you tilt your body to the side, body following you while he keeps asleep. He'll wake up quickly if he feels cold again.
Cw: nsfw, afab!reader is referred to as ‘Mrs. Riley’
Simon enjoys eating you out from behind, his knees on the tiles, hands on your hips as you lean on the railing of your balcony, ass sticking out for him to feast on.
Your back of your nightgown hiked up to your waist, secured by his hands rest themselves on your hips.
He loves to see your pussy lips peak out between your ass cheeks, already dripping with sweet nectar, a string of those juices hanging in the air before he licks it away.
“Morning, princess.” you know Simon’s not talking to you now, as he murmurs with a chuckle against your puffy lips, watching them flutter when his hot breath fanning on them.
“Simon, quick…” if you wiggle your hips, urging him to finally get his lips on your pussy, soothing the burning ache of arousal, the only answers will be a smack delivered right onto your ass cheek, the slap loud and clear in the early morning, and his chastisement mumbled against your mounds.
“It’s rude to not greet her properly, love, can’t even wait for a few minutes?” he’s so mean, with the fake nonchalance in his tone, with his calloused thumbs spreading your petals to expose the sensitive pearl of your clit, twitching at the cool air and excitement.
“She’s just begging me to give her what she deserves, isn’t she?”
The ask lingers in the air, but Simon’s not going to wait for your answer, the throbbing need coming his cock making him finally seal his lips around your clit, giving it a hard suck, coaxing your juices out of your tight entrance, before soothing it with gentle laps of his skillful tongue.
Your one hand holding your mug, putting on the facade of enjoying a cuppa for the passersby down there on the street, another hand clenching on the edge of the railing as his lips works its magic, pressing a morning kiss on each spots of your slick folds before wandering back to kiss the cute nub now peaking out of petals.
“Almost there, please, Simon..I need, I need—“ wanton moans escaping your lips, unable to swallow back when you’re teetering on the edge, just a little push…until you gasp out imperceptibly at an energetic greeting cut through your hazy mind.
“Morning, Mrs. Riley!” the familiar voice of Mrs.Smith, your neighbor, snaps you out of the immense pleasure, dragging you back to the reality—that you’re getting eaten out on the balcony of your house, even though only your upper body is perch on the railing, and others can’t see the lewd activity and your man, who’s burying his face between your thighs and makes your head spins with the impending release.
“Simon, stop, stop…!” your eyes nearly roll back when he does the exact opposite thing—the flat of his tongue doubling its effort on your soaked pussy, delving the tip into your cunny just to tease you.
“Answer her.” his orders rumbling into your mound.
“Morning…Mrs. Smith…oh god…!” you bite back a moan as you reply Mrs. Smith, not like you have other options. “Hope you had a nice sleep last night!”
You can hear Simon huffs out a laugh at your poor and plain response to Mrs. Smith, before diving back to resume his most important morning task, and your cheeks burn from embarrassment, how could he expect you to think of a better line when he’s the one causing you the predicament? You look back down to shoot him a glare, but quickly turn back to Mrs. Smith when Simon lifts his head to press a kiss on your plump cheeks as a halfhearted apology.
the rest of the chatters with Mrs. Smith are forgotten as soon as Mrs. Smith left to go on her day, not when you’re grinding your ass back on his mouth, wobbly hand reach up to muffle your scream of pleasure, along with those sweet whines of his name.
and when you come on his lips, thighs trembling and knees buckled, struggling to hold your body up as juices gush out and drench his chin, that’s when Simon stands up, his arms now around your waist to support your orgasm-wearied body, the bulbous head of his cock nudging against your still sensitive entrance as he pushes the tip inside just a bit, savoring how your walls massaging it eagerly with a prolonged, hoarse groan.
“Round two, you can take it, yeah?”
Sure you will be spending another half an hour on this balcony, moaning as Simon fucks the sleepiness out of you.
Cw: nsfw, afab!reader is referred to as ‘Mrs. Riley’
Simon enjoys eating you out from behind, his knees on the tiles, hands on your hips as you lean on the railing of your balcony, ass sticking out for him to feast on.
Your back of your nightgown hiked up to your waist, secured by his hands rest themselves on your hips.
He loves to see your pussy lips peak out between your ass cheeks, already dripping with sweet nectar, a string of those juices hanging in the air before he licks it away.
“Morning, princess.” you know Simon’s not talking to you now, as he murmurs with a chuckle against your puffy lips, watching them flutter when his hot breath fanning on them.
“Simon, quick…” if you wiggle your hips, urging him to finally get his lips on your pussy, soothing the burning ache of arousal, the only answers will be a smack delivered right onto your ass cheek, the slap loud and clear in the early morning, and his chastisement mumbled against your mounds.
“It’s rude to not greet her properly, love, can’t even wait for a few minutes?” he’s so mean, with the fake nonchalance in his tone, with his calloused thumbs spreading your petals to expose the sensitive pearl of your clit, twitching at the cool air and excitement.
“She’s just begging me to give her what she deserves, isn’t she?”
The ask lingers in the air, but Simon’s not going to wait for your answer, the throbbing need coming his cock making him finally seal his lips around your clit, giving it a hard suck, coaxing your juices out of your tight entrance, before soothing it with gentle laps of his skillful tongue.
Your one hand holding your mug, putting on the facade of enjoying a cuppa for the passersby down there on the street, another hand clenching on the edge of the railing as his lips works its magic, pressing a morning kiss on each spots of your slick folds before wandering back to kiss the cute nub now peaking out of petals.
“Almost there, please, Simon..I need, I need—“ wanton moans escaping your lips, unable to swallow back when you’re teetering on the edge, just a little push…until you gasp out imperceptibly at an energetic greeting cut through your hazy mind.
“Morning, Mrs. Riley!” the familiar voice of Mrs.Smith, your neighbor, snaps you out of the immense pleasure, dragging you back to the reality—that you’re getting eaten out on the balcony of your house, even though only your upper body is perch on the railing, and others can’t see the lewd activity and your man, who’s burying his face between your thighs and makes your head spins with the impending release.
“Simon, stop, stop…!” your eyes nearly roll back when he does the exact opposite thing—the flat of his tongue doubling its effort on your soaked pussy, delving the tip into your cunny just to tease you.
“Answer her.” his orders rumbling into your mound.
“Morning…Mrs. Smith…oh god…!” you bite back a moan as you reply Mrs. Smith, not like you have other options. “Hope you had a nice sleep last night!”
You can hear Simon huffs out a laugh at your poor and plain response to Mrs. Smith, before diving back to resume his most important morning task, and your cheeks burn from embarrassment, how could he expect you to think of a better line when he’s the one causing you the predicament? You look back down to shoot him a glare, but quickly turn back to Mrs. Smith when Simon lifts his head to press a kiss on your plump cheeks as a halfhearted apology.
the rest of the chatters with Mrs. Smith are forgotten as soon as Mrs. Smith left to go on her day, not when you’re grinding your ass back on his mouth, wobbly hand reach up to muffle your scream of pleasure, along with those sweet whines of his name.
and when you come on his lips, thighs trembling and knees buckled, struggling to hold your body up as juices gush out and drench his chin, that’s when Simon stands up, his arms now around your waist to support your orgasm-wearied body, the bulbous head of his cock nudging against your still sensitive entrance as he pushes the tip inside just a bit, savoring how your walls massaging it eagerly with a prolonged, hoarse groan.
“Round two, you can take it, yeah?”
Sure you will be spending another half an hour on this balcony, moaning as Simon fucks the sleepiness out of you.
Loser!König who’s been desperate for your attention all day. he doesn’t want to be a bother, keeps his mouth shut as he follows you around your home. his silence speaks volumes, especially when his looming figure grazes you from behind - his poor, achy cock weeping under layers of fabric. he doesn’t want to ask you for help, too embarrassed to verbalize anything, apparently not too embarrassed to follow you into every room. you know what he wants, it’s hard to miss how his pants tent and strain. but, if König won’t say anything neither will you, leaving him to pad behind you like a lost puppy
Loser!König who breaks in the kitchen. suddenly he’s babbling nonsense, groveling for anything you’re willing to give him. eyes glossy from holding back tears, a loud sniffle coming from behind his mask before he’s pleading, “Schatz, bitte—”. still too nervous to touch you himself right now, hands gripping the hem of his shirt. he all but sobs with relief when you take pity on him, eyebrows knit as you undo his pants. he’s already sensitive from his weepy cock rubbing against his boxers and pants, crumbling when you wrap your hand around him, “Thank you, scheiße— danke, liebling.”, voice raw as he screws his eyes shut
Loser!König who’s messy, precum dribbling down your wrist as you coo at him, soft praise for asking you to help. he’s choked up on pleasure and snot, broken moans leaving him as he bucks into your hand. “You’re doing so good, always so good for me.”, glossy eyes looking down at you through his eyelashes, vision blurry as he dumbly nods. knees buckling, a sharp gasp catching him off guard when you speed up your pace, pearly white drops falling to the floor. your voice sounds so sweet right now, your soft gaze distorted by his tears as he whines. unintelligible words garbled out as he orgasms, breathing labored as he reaches his high
Loser!König whose bliss is interrupted by an involuntary thrust forward, eyes wide as you keep pumping him. hips stuttering as he tries to step back, crying out with a whimper as you follow him. “One more? You were so good for me, one more, König?”, and, oh, he could never deny you. flushed and too hot, he’ll stand here until you’re done - and even then, he’d kneel on the slick floor of your kitchen if his legs became jelly. fat tears rolling down his cheeks as his legs twitch, a filthy little puddle of his release on the floor, a mess he’ll clean up when you’re done with him - pressing kisses up your thighs as he wipes it up, mumbled ‘thank you’s spoken against your skin. you always take such good care of him, it’d be a crime to not repay the favor
Would love to see more of wraith!simon x reader🙂↕️🙂↕️ especially the sweeter dynamics of their relationship!! Maybe the various different parts of their relationship as wel
Wraith!Simon (pt.1)
Cw: Suggestive, fluff
If you have a habit of locking the bathroom door while showering, sorry, the little lock doesn’t stand a chance in Ghost’s breaching inside the bathroom, since he can just phase through the damn door. You’ll find yourself enjoying the warmth embrace of the cascading water until the steam outside the shower glass starts parting without any reason.
Or, there’s a reason—Ghost, staying invisible and interrupting your precious self-caring time.
“Simon?” You turn your head towards where you assume he’s standing and call out. “Told you so many times already, stop barging in while I’m showering, if you want to join, just say it.”
The only answer is the white noises of the shower ringing in the room. Bastard doesn’t feel like talking right now, you shrug nonchalantly, decide to go back and work the shampoo into your scalp, but the hand prints that start appearing on the steamy glass catch your attention.
One, two, three…the hand print crawls its way upwards, smearing the foggy glass door until it stops around the height of your eyes.
‘No’
Firm, without any space to argue with, your typical wraith partner and his grumpy black cat attitude.
“What do you mean no?”
He doesn’t answer this time. Okay then, back to showering.
Lilting the song you accidentally discovered and has been playing on repeat for days, you miss the swirling of the steam behind you, the heart he draws on the foggy glass, musing that he probably left you alone and finally granting you some privacy.
Well, totally miscalculated from your side. Cause a pair of hands rested on your hips the moment you turn off the shower, and a monstrous thing is poking at your inner thighs is impossible to ignore.
“Time to claim my reward.” his breath fanning on your ear, chest pressing against your back as he materialized himself.
Oh, You’re fucked, mentally and physically.
Keep a close eye on your shopping cart when you’re out to restock your groceries.
Detergent, teabags, a carton of milk…5 bags of crisps…
5 bags of crisps?
you lift your head from your shopping list and double check the stuffs in your cart to make sure you’re not hallucinating.
“Simon!” you hiss out a whisper as you put 3 bags of crisps back on the shelf, knowing he’s definitely lurking around you, and the sudden chill you feel with his approach proves that you’re correct yet again.
“2 bags of crisps, that’s all, Simon. you ate 5 bags of these this week already…and all the same flavor?!”
A grumble rumbles from behind, his own method of conveying his protest when he’s invisible.
“No, that won’t work on me anymore, Simon.”
Another grumble emanates after your words, this time more like a purr than a threatening bark from a wolf.
“You used the same trick last time.”
No response this time.
Well, he finally gave up. you resume pushing the cart towards the counter again. Too much crisps isn’t good for him, even though he’s a wraith, and a weird wraith that does exercises, and got caught using your ring-con, jumping like a monkey to collect coins in the middle of your living room one day you were back from a long day. (he didn’t talk to you for the next few days, and the air was extra cold)
Setting the items on the cash desk, you fumble your purse to fetch the wallet absentmindedly, waiting for the cashier to scan the products.
“A bottle of detergent…5 bags of paprika crisps…”
“Sorry?”
“5 bags of paprika crisps.”
The little…apologies, big asshole, and hell, he’s chuckling with that low tone now in triumph beside your ears.
“Cash or card?” The cashier’s skeptical voice snaps you out of trance.
“Cash…”
Next time, watch your six when you’re strolling towards the counter, maybe you’ll finally spot the floating bags of crisps making their way back from the shelf into your cart.
Drank too much water before going to bed…your eyes flutter open as your bladder calling for help and wakes you from your peaceful slumber, hinting you to make your way towards the washroom.
“Bloody hell!” You nearly shout when you spot the massive man few steps away from you, and scares all of your lingering sleepiness away.
There goes your wraith, standing tall and imposing…at the end of your bed, basking in the moonlight that seeps through the curtains and glowing in a blue-white light. Thank goodness you didn’t wet your pants.
“Why aren’t you in the bed?!” you pat the empty spot of the mattress beside you.
“Feeling like going on a short walk.”
“In our bedroom? at 3 a.m.?”
“Any issues?” with the skull mask covering the upper part of his face , you’re unable to see his expression clearly, but you know he’s raising an eyebrow with the ‘you’re the one who’s being weird’ face.
Okay, a wraith being active at 3, valid.
“Just don’t stand at the foot of my bed next time, alright?”
You shake your head in disbelief, sluggishly dragging your legs to the washroom, and make it back to your shared bed again minutes later.
Good, he’s on the bed now, no more shenanigans.
You lay down next to him, “Good night.” the mumble rolls off your tongue with grogginess, closing your eyes and ready to drift back to sleep again.
Ah, should set an alarm so you won’t oversleep and arrive at work too late once more.
The last bit of the sober part of your brain saves you from the predicament before you fully fall asleep, so you reluctantly open your eyes, arm reach out blindly to fetch your phone.
“Holy hell for the love of—“
“You didn’t day I couldn’t stand beside the head of the bed.”
The smirk playing on his lips is infuriating, but attracting as hell too, gracing his ruggedly handsome features so good that you forget about your anger for a brief moment, till his amused laughters escaping his lips and drag you back to reality.
this post will contain sfw and nsfw content - nsfw below the cut! please support the writers!! they deserve a lot of love for sharing their fics with us<3 comment, reblog, and like their posts - gonna be real, I’d just binge their blogs because let’s be honest… everything they write goes incredibly hard
SFW:
starting strong with @tojisun! hugs and kisses, have coming home to… Simon? and some subspace
can’t not include @gremlinmodetweeker and their Ghost Icks post
@simonsrileyhusband is up next with Teen!Simon helping Teen!Reader come out to their parents
a fan favourite, @khioneee’s fic about Simon’s instinct to protect
the start to a series that has ruined me, @majinbangus’s fic about Johnny getting you a ‘dog’
from @themotherofhorses, holding Simon while he cries
@simonbrain gave us Simon being good with kids
@chaosandmarigolds was fantastic and wrote Traditional!Simon Riley
@midnight-shadow-cafe, and their big, beautiful brain, served up Closer Than You Think
our lovely @xoxunhinged wrote about Simon taking you out and Simon being clumsy
aah!! @dante-mightdie is serving up some angst with Simon and BlueCollar!Simon Riley
@puff0o0 was so, so sweet and gave us kissing Simon’s gun and Simon with a cold partner
@fishsinsareacknowledged wrote about Simon destressing with you and hugging Simon
love this from @i-love-you-just-the-same, telling Simon “we’re getting married”
hi, dmitriene actually posted this as I was finishing up the masterlist so… it’s fresh!! Simon letting himself rest
and, from @leafavleo’s wonderful blog, push ups with Simon
please make sure to read content warnings (CW) and/or trigger warnings (TW)! your comfort comes first, check the fic before you read it<3
NSFW:
is it really a masterlist if I don’t include @codnasties? thought so, we’re indulging in a little Dom!Ghost taking care of his princess and CNC with Simon
@k6tzie gave us some CoD 🌽!links and Sub!Virgin!Ghost
we’re going to round back to tojisun! I might have a bias for their fics… maybe. listing them off in no particular order: DadBod!Simon Riley, Biker!Simon Riley, Simon bullying into you, Simon Riley’s breeding kink, loving sex, oral fixation, practicing for Simon and a follow up post - toji!!! love you, pookie<3
a GN! and Male!Reader writer, our beloved simonsrileyhusband again! Loser!Simon Riley x Older!Reader, Loser!Virgin!Simon, Loser!Simon Riley, Older!Simon, size kink, and sucking off Simon
hello, hello @simonrillleyyysss, we love Ghost on your period and (tbf it can be read as sfw, but it’s in nsfw just to cover my bases) sucking on Simon’s nipples
@simonriley09, smooches, Inexperienced!Simon Riley x Virgin!Reader and (specifically held off on reblogging just to put it in here first) public sex with Simon
back to simonbrain, Simon’s depraved and Simon and his harmless bird
OKAY. dante-mightdie popped off with Butcher!Simon Riley - can we make that clear? okay, Butcher!Simon Riley being a little gross, Butcher!Simon Riley taking you in the break room, camping with Butcher!Simon Riley, and Butcher!Simon Riley needs a hand
@yawnderu wrote a wonderful sex pollen fic
guess what… another sex pollen fic from @shotmrmiller
@lxvvie made my brain blue screen with grey sweatpants, little Lieutenant Riley, and it’s yours
we all clap and cheer, it’s @evilgwrl with Simon’s too big
@ghouljams… thanking you every day for Cerberus!Ghost
b-b-b- @bi-writes! mwah, Ghost doesn’t take his mask off
another one from @navybrat817 where Simon fucks you with the mask on
did someone say @dmitriene? I did! collaring Simon, Simon being gentle, and rough sex with Simon
big brain moment from @theorist-fox, Simon’s not a stallion in bed and I’m unwell for this
speaking of unwell, @lovelyghst wrote about his Jacob’s ladder
@lvrsrequ3st gave us Simon edges you
@girlyteengirlcore’s overstim with Simon fic, wonderful
Subtle Thirst by @blingblong55, tasty, yummy, scrumptious
@maskedbyghost’s fic where Simon recites his vows is so very good
so, we’re back to majinbangus… oh boy. Simon gets a bath and pulling Simon’s collar, but like, read through the series, I’m begging you
@nighttimealone wrote some humping with Simon, love to see it
“do you think you'll kill for me one day?” from @cherie-doll
@thedivinetexts gave us Simon sharing you with the 141
@khioneee wrote about Simon being too big and Simon’s voice
@beloveds-embrace wrote a little something, too heavy? never
@musouie wrote about how Simon begs
@konigsblog served up some Bull!Simon x Cow!Reader oh my god
and, last but certainly not least, an oral fixation from @fictionismyreality3
Sorry for disappearing for a long while, had a right hand (arm) surgery and still recovering + having rehabilitations, that’s why I’ve stopped updating for a while. (apart from anemia, that thing’s a lot better now tho)
Hopefully I can get my right hand (aka my dominant hand) function properly soon, and back to posting stuffs etc.
Sorry for the people who sent requests to my inbox for the wait :(
Christmas is around the corner, happy holidays to the ones who celebrate, and take care y’all :D
thanks for sticking around too
BTW tumblr said I have 8 asks in my inbox but I can only see 2 of them for some unknown reasons?? (one’s the wraith!Simon req, the other is 🐸 anon’s)
Pls send it again if you’ve submitted smth before and still remember! thanks
Hey lovely. Just wanted to you to know you have a minor rebloging your stuff, they say they are 14 in their bio. They were liking my stuff and I had to block them.
username is: @ alisia-6
Hey yo! thanks a lot for telling me!! open my tumblr becuz I noticed a few asks telling me about them, really appreciate the information, just blocked them becuz my stuffs aren’t for minors ofc
matching - professor!simon riley x professor!reader
Professor Riley has a water bottle.
Well, one singular water bottle that seems to change color every now and then.
It's well known that he shares the same kind of bottle as you, same model and everything, but every now and then the black of his lid is replaced with the color of yours, and no one really... points it out because it's not something worth pointing out, but while his lecture tends to keep quiet, his smaller class will ask.
"Any questions?" He sighs.
"Did you get a new bottle?"
"No I accidentally grabbed my missus' cap in the morning while closing it. We headed out separately today." He grumbles.
"Do you do couple's items? Matching phone screens or cases?"
"How does this relate to class?"
"It's two. Class is over." Another student points out.
"I doubt I'm her phone screen, but she's mine." He sighs, gathering his stuff.
"And a tattoo?"
"Oh, right. Where's my five?" He raises a brow at the student from last time, holding out his hand as the class yells. One of the students hands him a five, and he hums as he tucks it into his pocket. A couple of students head out as he nods at them, and the final few keep him there as they bombard him with questions.
"Professor, what's the most romantic thing you do?"
"Kisses me good morning when I wake up." You peek at the door, waving at his class as Simon groans. "Oh, also that one time during grad when—"
"Luvie."
You pat his chest twice as he leans down to receive a kiss from you, and you wave bye to the rest of the students as they file out.
"I still think the most romantic thing you've ever done was at grad."
"Your grad?"
"Whose else?" You hum as he presses his lips to the corner of your eye.
Collective Writings navigation page - tab one, current tab
page two for all things Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley! 🌸✨for fics 18+ please read content warnings (CW) - you come first! check the fic before you read it
Butcher!Simon Riley x Blacksmith!Reader - reblog + headcanon
Cod Headcanon: Found Family/Familial Love - headcanon
Reader casually wearing a thong - blurb
Ghoap - Johnny gets the aux - headcanon
(18+, mdni) Loser!Ghost being nervous around you - headcanon, fluff, nsfw under the cut
(18+, mdni) Simon Riley is a patient man - headcanon, nsfw under the cut
Simon Riley has someone at home - fic
Off-Putting!Simon Riley x Reader that can match his freak - headcanon
18+ Fics:
(18+, mdni) Loser!Ghost being nervous around you - headcanon, fluff, nsfw under the cut
(18+, mdni) Simon Riley is a patient man - headcanon, nsfw under the cut
thanks again to followers and friends for keeping up with my writing! CoD requests are always welcomed, please review this post before requesting🎀✨ giving you guys a big, fat kiss for being wonderful and I hope to see you around - either in my inbox or notifications<3
