#ðððŠ¡ anon
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Hi ðð» Lou!! Congratulations ðð on 6k!!
So how about Arranged Marriage w/ Simon?
Again congrats to 6k ðððŠ¡
.âGive 'Em Hellâ.
Simon âGhostâ Riley x plus size reader
Your parents think you need to get married and settle down, so they called in a favour. A big military man of a husband might do you some good just not in the way they think
Warnings: arranged marriage, sort of sugar baby/daddy relationship, misogynist parents, future revenge, mention of hook-ups
WC: 986
6k Follower Celebration Bingo
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You often wondered about the true scope of your familyâs stupidity. Sure, there were moments in your childhood where you had the vivid thought that no one could be as ignorant and blatantly idiotic as your parents were but somehow, they had absolutely hit rock bottom of moronic decisions.
âWhat the fuck do you mean Iâm getting married?â Your mother gasped.
âWatch your tone young lady, that is no way to speak to your parents.â She scolded as your fatherâs expression hardened. There was no question that your parents were âtraditionalâ believing that women were less than their male counterparts in every way but while they had constantly lectured you on those beliefs, they hadnât gone so far as to inflict them upon you, until now at least. They even helped you and encouraged you through college!
âYouâve been running wild long enough, itâs time for you to do your duty,â you fought the urge to roll your eyes, âWeâve let you chase your silly little dreams but youâre getting older and your clock is ticking.â Your father clicked his tongue and reached for the tumbler of expensive bourbon on the table beside his recliner.
âWeâve picked out a good man!â Your mother chirped from her place on the expensive love seat next to your father, âHeâs highly decorated in the military, he can give you a good life.â
âI donât give a shit about that! Iâm not marrying anybody! Period!â You snarled. Anger curled in your gut, turning your tone sour.
Your fatherâs glass slammed down onto the wood, making your mother flinch. âYou will marry him or I will make your life a living hell. I make one call and no one will want to hire you, not even as a fucking garbage collector. You know the connections I have. Suck it up and be a responsible adult for once.âÂ
ââââââ
âI donât want a husband.â The man across from you made a sound that you thought might have been a laugh. Simon, as you had learned from your parents, was a Lieutenant in a special ops task force. Never married, no family to speak of and copious amounts of money, your mother had gleefully added as she literally dragged you into the official-looking building where you would be meeting your future spouse.
He was by all means, an intimidating man. Almost 6 and a half feet tall and wearing a stupid balaclava with a skull on it, he looked more fitting being in a slasher movie than in a conference room negotiating marriage stipulations. His bulky, tattooed arms were crossed over his chest, somehow making him seem even bigger to you, as he leaned back in his chair.
âI donât want a wife.â Your eyebrows furrowed at that.Â
âThen why are you here?âÂ
His massive shoulders rolled back as his head tilted, cracking his neck. âSame as youâ orders.â You hummed under your breath and forced your gaze away from his tanned arms and up to his eyes. He was obviously a quiet man but in no way did that intimidate you. He seemed more pissed off at your father who had so rudely guided (shoved) you into the room than he did at you.
You cleared your throat. âI wonât fuck you.â This time, his laugh was more discernible. His broad chest rumbled with the sound.
ââM not expecting you to, not unless you beg,â you made a face at him but Simon continued, âI get deployed most of the time, Iâd just like someone to take care of the house and spend my money.â
âSo I would be your sugar baby.â He shrugged.
âIf thatâs what ya wanna call it. Do what cha want, I donât care. We just need to show up to official events together.âÂ
You planted your elbows on the table between you and stared into his brown eyes. Simon didnât waver. âSo you wouldnât have an issue with me getting a job?â
âNone.â He answered quickly.
âGoing back to school?â
âIâd happily pay for it.â You raised an eyebrow before a devious smirk crossed your lips.
âGet a lover?â His eyes blazed while he mirrored your position, the swivel chair beneath him groaning with his mass as he leaned forwards, planting his massive palms onto the table.
âIâd like to see you try.â Against your will, heat raced through your body, setting your nerves alight with the thrum of arousal. Simonâs mask shifted and you imagined that he was smirking at you.Â
You tamped down the feeling of wetness between your soft thighs, forcing yourself to remember exactly why you were in this situation in the first place. âYouâre a lot different than I was expecting.â
He huffed. âSo are you. Thought I was getting stuck with some bratty trust fund baby whoâs never even set foot in a thrift store.â
âI thought you were gonna be a crusty old man who wanted me to put out so he could feel better about his broken dick and receding hairline.â Silence settled between you before suddenly, you both broke into peels of laughter, an oppressive weight suddenly lifted from the room.Â
You were relieved; Simon seemed at least like a decent human being if nothing else and it appeared that you could continue living your life, although without the occasional hook up here and there. But considering how handsome you presumed your almost husband to be, maybe it wouldnât be such a bad thing.
âI guess we both got lucky didnât we?â You wiped the tears from your eyes.
âOr just benefitting from the sheer incompetence of the people that thought this was a good idea.â You rolled your eyes at him.
âSo, should we do this then?â You asked. Simon rose from his seat and offered you his hand, which you didnât hesitate to take. As he pulled you to your feet, he uttered:
âLetâs give âem hell.â
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YOOO ITS MEWING ANON AND YOU POSTED MANDERIN WARS ANON FIC COOL DUDE THAT IS SO SIGMA (I canât fucking spell) when I saw that the fic took 5 months it reminded me of that super sigma fic rq I sent you (the one thatâs gonna take like four whole Zelda game development cycles to make but YOU ARE AWSOME FOR SAYING YOU WILL. anyways I am glad that ask is between you me and GOD if literally anyone else had seen that Iâd be like ðððððð¥¹ð
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stay sigma!
DID YOU JUST SEND ME EVERY SINGLE EMOJI IN ORDER IM FUCKING CRYING OH MY GOD
i DID post mandarin wars anons fic!! well⊠the first chapter at least ð I REALLY HOPE THEYâRE ABLE TO SEE IT
and iâll get to yours at some point donât worry man, it just may not be a while i have school starting up soon (boooo)
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Hi ðð» Iâm currently very sick rn and I need cuddles and love from either Clark Kent or Simon Riley, you pick. And could it just be fluffy and sorta angsty with a ps!reader who is just super mopey and mad about being sick and others things. You can pick most of the background for this!!
Btw love ð all of your writing ððŠ¡ð
.âSick Days and Comfy PJsâ.
Clark Kent x plus size reader
Sick days require your boyfriend to become your live-in nurse, but who are you to complain.
Warnings: sick!reader, fluff, little smidge of angst but not really, general sick warnings, brief nudity
WC: 840
A/N: I hope you feel better soon! Iâm so glad you find joy in my writing and I hope you get some out of this one ð
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
âIâm dying.â
âNo youâre not.â
âI feel like Iâm dying.â There was a sigh.
âYou just have the flu sweets.âÂ
âI swear itâs the plague.â The bed groaned and the weight of another person settled on top of it but you didnât move to look at them. A large hand cupped your head over the thick blanket draped on top of you.
âCan you let me take your temperature again?â
You grumbled back. âNo. Too cold.âÂ
There was another sigh and then the blanket was moved aside, sending a wave of cold air into your little cave of sickness. You groaned in annoyance as you attempted to escape the disruption but before you could, your boyfriendâs thick arm wound around your hips and pulled you up.Â
âThatâs just the fever talking.â His voice was much clearer now as he held you to his chest while he rummaged around the mountain of things on your nightstand. Your head was pounding with a migraine that was only compounded by your clogged sinuses.Â
âClark.â You whined, squeezing your eyes shut against the harsh light bleeding in from the hallway.Â
His palm spread out across your back, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your shoulder blade as he finally found the thermometer. âJust a couple minutes sweets and then you can go back to sleep.â The cold metal tip prodded your lips for a second before you begrudgingly opened your mouth. âThatâs a good girl.â He cooed and pressed a kiss to your sweaty forehead.
âI hate you.â
He chuckled softly, the vibrations of it rumbling through his chest. âI know sweets.â
âDumb alien genes.â Clark sighed again.
âI can get sick sweets, just not with anything here on Earth.â You cracked your eyelids open to glare at him again, letting him get a good look at your bloodshot eyes and dark bags from three days of fitful sleep. âFine. Iâm sorry I canât get sick. How can I make it up to you?â
âGrill me a cheese.â The thermometer beeped and Clark gently pried it from your lips. You gave out a rattling cough. âAnd lemme wear your pjs.â
He tsked and wiped off the end with a tissue. âStill too high. Alright, how about a nice hot shower and I can throw my clothes and your blanket in the dryer so theyâre nice and warm by the time you get out.â
âAnd a grilled cheese?â He gave you a look.
âIâll heat up some of that soup mama made. A grilled cheese might be too heavy for your tummy.â You stuck out your bottom lip at him. Clark tugged you up higher on his chest, letting your soft legs wrap around his waist as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. His hands fell to your ass and unable to help himself, he gave the plump cheeks a gentle squeeze.
âBut youâre the one that got me sick.â He had taken you out on a little fly around Metropolis four days ago, ignoring your warning that it was too cold for you to be whipping around the clouds with him.
âThatâs not- ok fine, Iâll make you a grilled cheese.â You beamed up at him. âBut only if you donât complain about a stomach ache afterwards.â He rose to his feet as gently as he could, keeping you from being jostled too much.
You sighed and clung onto your boyfriend, feeling utterly sorry for yourself. âDonât like being sick. Hurts so much.â
âI know sweetheart.â Clark kept you wrapped up safely in his arms as he turned on the hot water.
âYou wonât leave me?â Steam soon filled the small bathroom, making it a little more bearable when he gently stripped you of the old pyjamas you had on. Clark paused.
His brows furrowed and he looked up at you from where he knelt on the tiled floor, one socked foot in his hand. âIâd never leave you. Where-whereâs this coming from sweets?â
You shook your head and roughly wiped away the tears of aggravation. âItâs dumb.â
Clark pulled off your sock and threw it into the laundry basket in the corner before standing up to his full height. âItâs not dumb if itâs making you this upset.â He cupped your full cheek. Your hands curled into his t-shirt and you nodded.
âIâm sorry Iâm so annoying, making you take care of me.âÂ
âHey. I take care of you because I love you, you arenât annoying or a burden. Youâre mine and that means I take all of you. Ok?â You nodded and he rewarded you with a soft peck to your chapped lips. âGood. Now that weâve cleared that up. Finish your shower and Iâll get everything ready for you.â
With a gentle pat to your ass, you were bathed in hot water, easing the pressure behind your eyes. âLove you sweets. Iâll be back to check on you in a bit.â
And as the bathroom door shut, you smiled. Sick days with Clark werenât bad at all.
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