#but simon? he's just pure silly

[thermodynamic-comedian]

i can understand being a jonah magnus hater. i can understand being a peter lukas hater. but if you hate simon fairchild, i do not understand you. not one bit. you are a liar of some kind, surely

[trainwrecksys]

He’s so me

[starsofang]

Simon didn’t like to hold you. He liked to be held.

At first, you didn’t understand why he’d turn his back to you in bed without saying anything. You thought you’d done something to him, or maybe he was in a bad mood. You couldn’t be any more wrong.

Simon Riley, an absolute brute of a soldier, was silently asking for you to be the big spoon. You nearly didn’t believe it when he finally brought it to your attention.

He was too embarrassed to ask you, so he’d resort to flipping on to his side and wait. And wait. Until he realized you didn’t catch the memo, even after many hopeless attempts.

In his mind, he thought being the big spoon would somehow convince you he wasn’t manly enough, as if his title in the service or his pure stature wasn’t proof enough of his masculinity.

To him, being held was a blanket of security. Where he’d always have to watch his back out on the field, both literally and metaphorically, he didn’t have to keep an eye out at all times with you. It was a chance for him to find solace in a person, and when he explained this to you, he was surprised to find you so willing.

And oh, when it happened, Simon nearly kicked himself for holding back on verbalizing it for so long.

The warmth of your arms when they wrapped around him from behind, your face buried between his shoulder blades, legs tangled in his, he thought that this was what inner peace felt like.

He was silly to think you’d ever be the one to judge him for what most deemed ‘unmasculine’. In all of his broad glory, he felt safe the moment you held him, like a child does when they feel a mother’s embrace except it was from someone he loved dearest to his heart.

And you? You found that being the big spoon was rather enjoyable when the man you’re holding was so damn comfortable to snuggle up to. It was a win-win for you both.

You just wished he wasn’t an idiot that left you wondering all those hopeless nights until the truth came out.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend

Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.

Ghost

Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.

You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.

He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.

There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.

More on this later 👀.

He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown  him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.

Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.

Expect a lot of praise in bed.

Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.

Other times, he’s not so gentle.

Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.

His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.

“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”

He’s very protective of you.

He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.

Scary dog privileges.

Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.

That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.

He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.

As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.

However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.

“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”

König

Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.

But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.

He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.

When he feels like it.

He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.

Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.

You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.

Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.

Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.

He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.

Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.

A little bit silly.

And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.

Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.

One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.

He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.

Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.

Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.

It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.

Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.

“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.

“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”

His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.

“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.

“Inch by bloody inch.”

Valeria

You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.

That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.

Sexual or otherwise.

She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.

Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.

In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.

“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.

“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”

She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.

She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.

Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.

Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.

Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.

Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.

You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”

You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.

Price

He’s so father-coded fr.

He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.

Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.

John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.

Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.

The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.

When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.

A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.

On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.

E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.

He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”

“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.

“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.

“And all mine.”

Horangi

You’re the only thing that matters to him.

At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.

Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).

His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.

In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.

You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.

You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.

Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.

Unless you push him too far.

At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.

He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.

“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”

He never fails in the aftercare department, though.

Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.

Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.

A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.

Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.

Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.

Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.

“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”

Alejandro

Pre-established passionate lover.

One who is fiercely protective over you.

If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.

He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.

You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.

He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.

A thorough lover is how you might describe him.

Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.

You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.

Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.

Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.

He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.

“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.

“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.

Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”

Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.

Rodolfo

His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.

As he should.

You want it ? You got it. 

In abundance.

You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.

That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.

He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.

Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.

Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”

Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.

It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.

“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.

“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.

“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”

Graves

This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.

Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.

He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.

E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.

“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”

He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.

He never expects anything from you in return.

He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.

Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.

Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.

On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.

He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.

“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.

#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.

He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.

“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s  pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.

Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.

“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”

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

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Training exercises were fun. Especially if Price put you and Ghost on opposite teams. Competitiveness was a major part of your relationship, after all. So there you were, everyone except for you and Simon had been eliminated and were now watching via your body cams. And since they were feeling extra funny, they linked your comms so you could talk while hunting each other down.

“Why don’t you just surrender, sweetheart?” You scoffed, your gaze sweeping the room before you pressed yourself against the wall next to the door. “Why don’t you just stop breathing, babe?” You could hear Simon chuckle through the comms, a smile tugging at your own lips. “We both know you don’t actually want that. Who would make you see stars each night if I were to die?” He was right, of course, but this was all in good fun, right? “I know Johnny would love a taste, isn’t that right, Sergeant?”

A low growl reached your ears, and you knew you had Simon right where you wanted him. Or at least you thought so. “Well, if that’s the case, the new receptionist asked me if I was single, maybe I’ll just-” “Don’t you bloody dare, Riley!” Once again, he chuckled, driving you crazy. “Got you now, darling.”

Realizing that you had just given away your position, you started running. While Simon had more training than you and was much stronger, you were quicker and quieter, something which had often come in handy. As you made your way through the simulated building, you searched for a hiding spot and a distraction. The latter came in the form of an empty can. You picked it up while running and placed it in a doorway before backtracking and hiding behind a cupboard. Within just a few moments, you spotted Simon, slowly moving toward you. Pulling out your silenced ‘fake’ pistol, you aimed at the can and shot, making Simon spin around as the noise caught his attention.

“I’m coming for you, love.” You chuckled quietly, watching him move away from you, his back to you. Aiming, you couldn’t help but retort. “Bring tacos, you fucking prick.” And with those words, you shot the paintball, hitting him in the back of his helmet. With a deep sigh, Simon confirmed that he had been killed, and Price flipped on the lights. Simon turned to look at you, just to find you giggling in your hiding spot. “Good one, lovie.” You grinned, as you watched him cross the distance between you two. “Thank you, dear. Not bad yourself.” The moment he was close enough, he pulled down his balaclava and pressed his lips to yours. A pleased hum escaped your lips, as Simon slowly deepened the kiss.

“Okay, I’ll turn off comms. We’ll debrief in 10.” With those very pained words from Price, you heard the telltale click in your ears and knew that you now had some privacy. “Bloody, finally.” Simon pulled away slightly, muttering those words before trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your fingers found their way to his hair, gently scratching over his scalp, making him hum. But your mind wasn’t there.

“Si?” You got no response. “Simon?” He hummed but didn’t even try to stop, making you chuckle. “Simon Riley.” With a sigh, he pulled away, gazing into your eyes. “Yes, love?” He looked adorable, gazing down at you with pure love in his eyes. “Can we go get tacos after the debrief?” Now, it was his turn to chuckle as he shook his head in disbelief. “Of course. Anything for you, baby.”

A/N: Love some silly stuff. And I love you all!

[qtboni]

╰﹒ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒, 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: Simon woke up to you sleeping far away from him in the bed so he pulls you back to him <//3

C/W: none just clingy simon missing u in his sleep (pure fluff) !!

W/C: 944 bubs

Simon shifted in his bed, feeling the empty coolness beside him. He reached out, wanting to feel your warmth, but his hand met nothing but empty sheets and bed covers.

"Love..?" He whispers faintly, his voice filled with a quiet desperation to find you.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Simon slowly opens them to find you there, on the other side of the bed, lying with your back turned to him.

He lets out a quiet chuckle at the position you're in, your legs flung out in a starfish, snoring the night away. It's a silly sight, but it cracks him up, and he can't help but chuckle softly.

"Baby..." Simon sleepily whines to himself, calling out to you. "C'mere.."

Simon gently moves closer to you, pulling on the sheets to free himself. You feel his arm encircle your waist as he pulls you towards his warm body, spooning you in his arms.

Your skin meets his, and the warmth from his body causes your heart to skip a beat. You feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, feeling peaceful and safe in his embrace.

As he holds you close, Simon's thoughts drift to you. He thinks about how soft he is for you, how you make him feel alive and whole, how he doesn't want to let go, ever.

You're his everything, his world, and he can't imagine life without you. He feels his heart swell with love for you, and the need to be close to you and hold you tight, to never let you go.

With you in his arms, Simon feels complete. He would do anything to keep you close, to love and cherish you every day for the rest of his life.

You're the love of his life, and he will never forget the moment he first held you close, feeling your heart beat against his own, and knowing that he had found his soulmate.

As he holds you close, Simon's body moves instinctively, nuzzling his face in your neck, wanting to feel your warmth, to be closer to you. He wraps his arms around you tighter, unable to bear the thought of ever being apart from you again.

The warmth coming from his body slowly roused you from your slumber, your eyes fluttering open as Simon's arms tightened around your waist. You could feel his heart pounding against your back, beating in time with yours, and your heart skipped a beat in response.

"Simon?" You called out to him, voice still slightly hoarse from sleep, and you could hear the smile in his voice as he responded.

"I'm here, love," he whispered, his voice low and full of love, and you could feel his body pressing up to yours, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. His hands softly carressing your waist and hips. You felt his breath upon your neck, his heart beating in yours, and you felt a deep sense of peace wash over you.

"I love you," he whispered, almost inaudible.

As his arms wrapped around you, you felt a rush of warmth and comfort wash over you. His voice was low and gentle, and you could feel the love and intensity in every word.

You loved him more with each passing moment; each time he held you, each time he told you how much he loved you, and each time you felt his heart beating against yours.

"I love you, too, Simon," you whispered back, further relaxing into his embrace as you pecked his bicep that was hugging you close by your shoulders.

You could feel the love and intensity in every part of his body, from the warmth of his breath against your neck to the way his heart beat in time with yours. You knew that you would always be by his side, loving him and cherishing him for all eternity.

As you drifted back to sleep, his arms wrapped around you tightly, unwilling to let you go and wishing to always be this close. You could feel the love in every part of his body, and you knew that this was the love that could never be broken.

Simon pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck, his breath warm and soothing against your skin, and you felt a pang of love and comfort wash over you.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, unwilling to let you go even for a moment, and he held you against him, feeling your heartbeat against his chest.

"Goodnight, love," he whispered, his voice low and filled with all the love he felt for you as he cuddled you close.

"G'night..." you sighed dreamily and closed your eyes.

As you drifted off to sleep, with your head resting against his chest, Simon couldn't help the rush of affection for you. He knew that you were the love of his life, that he would do anything for you, and that he couldn't imagine a future without you by his side.

Holding you close to him, he felt your heart beating slowly and regularly against his chest, and he felt a deep sense of peace wash over him. Every fiber of his being told him that he loved you, that you were everything he had ever wanted in life, and that he would always be there to protect you, to love you, and to cherish you.

He whispers your name softly, almost inaudible, as he drifted off to sleep, holding you tightly in his embrace. The love and intensity in his voice, in his touch, and in his eyes, was overwhelming, and he knew that you felt it too.

navi / masterlist !

[angelatsumu]

thinking of husband!simon who can't get enough of making you cum. nsfw under the cut. | husband!simon, overstimulation (kinda), fingering

“surely you can give me another, lovie” your husband taunts you, eyes peering at your reflection in the mirror. he’s got your legs spread for him, trapped under his own legs as his fingers—middle and ring—find themselves curled deep within your cunt. he’s smirking at you teasingly while your head’s rested against his shoulder. normally he hates when your eyes break contact with his, but today he allows your brief reprieve from his gaze because he’s feeling generous. truthfully speaking, he knows he’ll be asking for ‘just one more’ at least two more times before you’re boneless before him. your lover curls his fingers along the spongy cushion buried within your walls, prodding the soft material with a coy grin splayed across his features. his eyes are sharp as he watches your hips wriggle against the assault in a weak attempt to free yourself. he’s feeling generous, so he lets that silly little action go unpunished. he figures he’ll tax you for each offense; give him one more for his troubles, sweet girl. you whine at the intoxicating thrusts of his digits against you, body overheating as the coil within your abdomen winds tight. the sounds of your squelching cunt makes your cheeks heat with embarrassment, only worsened with the teasing lilt of your husband’s filthy words in your ear. “doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. ‘s almost too much isn’t it, baby?” he sounds like pure sin, panting as though the sheer feel of your cunt squeezing his fingers would do him in. you both know it would; your lover could cum with the sheer feel of your cunt spasming around his tongue, let alone his fingers. he’s hard against your ass, and each wiggle and writhe of your sweet hips making him grunt deeply against your skin. the tightening in your cunt alongside the soft moans of his name let your lover know you’re so close to the edge, so close that you can practically already taste it. he knows, and he makes sure you reach that peak quicker by circling your hard, throbbing clit with his thumb. “oh, sweet girl,” your husband coos at you as your orgasms crests, leaving you trembling in his grasp. Simon’s a bit cruel with the way he thrusts his fingers harder against that sweet spot while spewing filthily in your ear. it’s too much, always too much when he’s this sexy and all yours before him. as you ride out your orgasm, he coaxes you into rocking your hips against his thick fingers. “ride my hand baby, watch yourself ride my fuckin’ hand,” he moans in your ear, free hand gripping your jaw and forcing your gaze to your reflection in the mirror. the sight is enough to have your cunt squeezing his fingers so tight he could barely move, huffs and whines slipping from your pretty lips while he continues his assault on your overstimulated cunt. “please, Si” you whimper with warmed cheeks, eyes pleadingly looking into his own. he lets out a gruff groan, relishing in the tears that speckle your lash line. “just one more,”he lies to you, and you whimper softly knowing it’d be far more than one before you were done.

a/n: rbs + likes greatly appreciated. also, taking requests. also also, if you'd like the insanely long (and kinda fanon/self-indulgent) oneshot i wrote for halloween!simon, lmk

[charliemwrites]

Ok ok yes I’ve got a million things I’m working on, don’t yell at me. Just hear me out!!

Simon is given a solo mission, per usual. He’s to find and neutralize an enemy “computer tech” that’s been creating programs and viruses that are even causing Laswell’s people some issues.

It’s a simple enough job. One he’s done a thousand times over with perfect execution. Nothing personal, even if most squints are barely a step above civilian. He doesn’t lose sleep over it, things have to be done.

Pure luck that your get held up by 4 silly minutes. Four minutes that put you just behind Simon as he breaks into your home, leaving the door ajar. Four minutes that have him clear your house, realizing you’re not there, just as you slip inside and discover a huge scary man with a gun staring in confusion at your cat-ear headphones.

And well… you tase him.

Like, a lot.

And then you cuff him with the set you find on belt. To the radiator in your bedroom.

When he comes to, you’re not even there! You’ve taken a break from the whole situation, hoping a snack will make things less scary. (It doesn’t but at least you’ve got some food in you.)

Then when you walk back in, you see him awake, see him glaring. Audibly announcing “nope” and walk out again. Have to psych yourself up for fifteen minutes before creeping in again.

“I’m… hi,” you say. “So um…. What are you doing in my house…?”

And anyway, that’s how Simon gets “abducted” by an awkward, nervous, sunshine hacker who Did Not realize her employers were Bad Guys.

[lxvvie]

A silly thought: Simon wakes up by you kissing down his chest, he thinks he’s got lucky this fine morning until you blow a raspberry on his stomach. Man‘s flabbergasted as you giggle. Jokes on you though he flips you over and starts tickling you.

You're giggling because of the look on his face and the fact that he jumped some when you were playing songs on his tummy. Fuck no, he wasn't startled. It was pure reflex, sweetheart.

Whatever, Simon.

He gets you back, though, when he flips you over, calloused hands running over your ticklish areas. Simon nuzzles your neck, his stubble absolutely making you laugh and gasp, and it's all music to his ears. You promise between laughs that you won't do it again and Simon chuckles in response. 'Course you won't, love. You'll keep blowing them so long as there's breath in your body.

And then the tickling and laughter tapers down and becomes something more intimate than that. He keeps his face buried in your neck, you wrap your arms around him tight, and you two just... lay there.

You just lay there and bask in each other's presence.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Parenthood Prep with the 141 Boys

Pairing: Task Force 141 x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, some fluff overload, light angst (worrying over your well-being), protective behavior, and occasional swearing.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy! Baby fever has struck hard, and I might turn one of these headcanons into a full fic because I just need to see one of these boys holding a baby!

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

John "Soap" MacTavish

- The moment you tell Soap you’re pregnant, he’s ecstatic. He scoops you into his arms, twirls you around (before apologizing profusely for jostling you).

- Soap is constantly talking to your belly—whether it’s making silly jokes, telling the baby about how “cool” their dad is, or singing Scottish lullabies he swears will “boost their intelligence.”

- He’s a worrywart in disguise. You catch him researching everything about pregnancy—from the best prenatal vitamins to how to set up a safe nursery.

- Cravings? Say no more. He’s on it. You mention something obscure at 2 AM? He’s out the door, mission-style, to track it down.

- He loves touching your belly. If the baby kicks while his hand’s there, you’ll see him absolutely melt.

---

Simon "Ghost" Riley

- When you tell Simon you’re pregnant, he goes quiet—staring at you for a moment. Then he pulls you into a tight hug, whispering, “We’ll make this work.”

- He’s the definition of silent protector. He keeps an eye on you, makes sure you rest, eat, and avoid anything stressful—but he doesn’t hover or fuss.

- Surprisingly, he gets sentimental at night. When you’re both lying in bed, he’ll rest a hand on your belly and quietly tell you about his hopes for your family.

- He’s hyper-aware of safety. He baby-proofs the house months early and makes you wear the most comfortable shoes “so you don’t trip.”

- If anyone gives you grief about being pregnant (strangers or otherwise), Simon’s cold glare is enough to silence them for life.

---

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

- Kyle’s reaction to your pregnancy announcement is pure joy. He grins, hugs you tightly, and starts rambling about all the things he wants to teach the baby.

- He treats you like royalty. Need a foot rub? Done. Want to skip chores? He’s already taken over. He loves pampering you.

- He’s incredibly attentive, always asking, “How are you feeling?” and taking mental notes to adjust his care for you.

- He’s so excited about baby clothes, toys, and decorating the nursery. He’ll drag you to baby stores and gush over tiny onesies.

- When the baby starts kicking, he insists on playing music for them, claiming they’ll be “the next music prodigy.”

---

John Price

- John’s reaction is understated but deeply emotional. He kisses your forehead and murmurs, “We’ve got this, love,” before pulling you into a long hug.

- He’s incredibly supportive and takes on a calming, grounding role. Whenever you’re overwhelmed, he’s right there, soothing you with his steady presence.

- He’s big on preparing you for motherhood. He’ll read parenting books, help you plan for doctor appointments, and stock the house with everything you need.

- John is fiercely protective of you. He’ll make sure you’re never lifting a finger or pushing yourself too hard.

- He loves talking to your belly when he thinks you’re asleep. Hearing his deep voice tell stories about his past or his dreams for the future melts your heart.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.

lake scene • episode 6

before diving into it, bare with me! the lake scene wouldn't be the lake scene if it wasn't for edvin and omar fr: the uncut version of the convo wilmon has was 8 minutes long and all improvised when it was shot. edmar just got told to say what they thought wilmon wanted to say and boom! this lake scene happened. no one is doing it like them.

oh alice is the cherry on top - the 'oh alice we're growing up', the melody fits the setting and the warm colors just right. the perfect song for the perfect scene.

talking about song - wille's song was written right after this scene as lisa said: 'i could see simon walking back home that night, sitting down by his keyboard, birds singing outside, the sun already up and finally it dawning in him: it shouldn't be a revolution to love someone'. do what you want with this info!

without further ado, let's get into it :)

the little smirk after wille stumbles is cuuute. terms are not the best but it still takes something so simple to lighten the mood.

wille's carrying his blue blanket with him can only mean they went to his room to take it before heading here - and so in the time between scenes they talked and thought about the lake to forget everything, planned to bring a blanket to lie down on and enjoy the sunrise, just the two of them :')

you can see the weight of the situation suddenly hitting him.

it's so bittersweet - the lake has always been their happy place but the mood is much darker now, they're sharing what they think is the last big moment together at sunrise.

they try to keep the convo as light as possible but they know too well how much this hurts.

the single tear streaming down.

the different reactions are what get me the most: wille seems almost relaxed in letting the emotions take over compared to simon who's very controlling over it - he blinks and bites his lip trying to stop more tears from falling, he averts his eyes.

simon's not so accepting whilst wille looks resigned.

the scene makes the best out of the limited time bc nothing feels rushed at all: there's no music at first to create that alone time intimacy properly and it keeps getting better with the camera focusing on the way they look at each other shot after shot.

wilhelm breaking the silence with it takes a fool to remain sane is the sickest thing isweartogod.

such a monumental and fond throwback. it's the first memory they have of each other but it's also the first one we have of wilmon too. it brings everyone back to that very first time.

this shot is incredible. young royals will always hold a special place in my heart and i want to remember wilmon just like this.

you would never tell they saw and touched and explored each other's body more than once by the way they're both so shy to undress and wilhelm has to tear his eyes away from simon.

they're still my favorite losers <3

it's also the first time simon undresses himself without wille's help. i think the essence is - to be completely bare and show the most vulnerable version of themselves, to get rid of all the layers and weights they carry around, to let it all behind for this one last time together.

the sparkle in simon's eyes when he looks at wille is so sweet. it's more of a bitter taste that comes with this scene, but in a list of moments that are a perfect example of how much they simply enjoy each other's company, this is definitely one of those - simon says 'when it was us it was good' at the end and it is very true.

all i see here is the plain and simple version of them, they feel so much and everything about this scene is telling us that they just needed to found the right place and the right time to let it out - the nostalgia, the sorrow, the sadness, the silly energy too. it's all so pure.

'they undress, they walk down into the water naked, and they are rebirthed'. lisa once described this moment using these words and they're probably the most accurate. it reminds me of the thing i wrote earlier - taking the white clothes off feels like freeing themselves of every burden and then stepping into the water as a form of sanctification of it.

whether you see it in a religious or a non-religious way, it is a very beautiful image.

the eye contact game is going stronger than everrr.

they're too pretty to be real ugh.

the splash of water :')

this is extremely beautiful and the transition between the two is perfectly made.

it's such a loving gesture - we can't really tell which one of the two is done before but it's the fact simon does it twice that matters: he follows the instinct to do it once but it's still not enough so he feels the need to do it again.

this shot was one of the stills that came out for promo before the season's release and i remember being completely blown away by it.

i claimed it and said this scene would be one of the core ones of the show and well, i guess i was right!

the whole water sequence is a visual representation of simon getting further and further away from wilhelm. both times he turns around to look at him tho - it's not what he wants to do but he has to do it for their sake.

also! one pov is from into the water and the other one is from the shore. idk if it's casual or hides an actual meaning but it's fun to point out sooo

too many single tears were shed for my fragile heart to handle.

this pretty much sums up the way i felt at the end too.

pain is written all over simon's face but i was not prepared for wille's sobs and his shoulders uncontrollably shaking. stab me.

he just keeps watching simon slip through his fingers and he's left to wonder what's supposed to happen now?.

from wille's words - 'how can you just be over me? i thought it would be us' - we learn that he's convinced simon is already over them and he's alone in struggling to accept it and move on (oh if only he knew).

he breathes but this is more of a this is it sigh - now it's time for me to learn how to let him go.

[kruegerspillow]

A soldier's yearning; Simon Ghost Riley fic.

Creators note: I'm back from the dead (again)...... Whoopsie.... Please take this fic as another apology as I had just finished my dreadful exams :(

Summary: Simon had just departed for a short deployment a few weeks before, though, the feeling of longing surrounded you as you waited for his visit.

Warnings: Swearing, not proofread, a pinch of angst with fluff :3

The atmosphere was tense as you laid restlessly in your bed. You held your phone loosely, the sheets were colder than before; and you swore you could've seen someone strangely familiar walk towards your apartment. You shifted once again, trying your best to find a comfortable position for you to sleep in as you looked out of your third story window.

Simon had left for a short deployment without informing you. And, the worst thing is, you had a brief argument with him right before he departed. It was no serious argument, no shouting or insults; just disagreement. Though, there were no apologies, no words, no kisses or hugs. It left you hanging on a loose thread, the feeling of worry gnawing at you. You were never the type to argue without a valid reason and so was Simon; yet, this departure made you feel some kind of way.

Here you are, weeks after his departure, still worrying for him and longing for his presence. You checked your phone from time to time, hoping that he would reply to at least one of your messages. Delivered, delivered and delivered. Not a single response from him. It felt lonely without him, as if a small void was formed inside the chambers of your heart. Sleeping in his bed wasn't going to be a permanent solution, though, you figured it's better compared to sleeping in your own— without a single hint of him. His room smelled faintly like his cologne, and it provided a sense of comfort. You placed your phone on the nightstand, letting out a small sigh before pulling the blanket over you slightly. Soon, without you knowing, you doze off to his scent lingering around you.

Thud.

You heard the small thud and immediately sat up. You looked around your room, looking disheveled. Your eyes caught on the small box that you had accidentally kicked out of your bed. You shifted, your legs hanging from the edge of his bed before grabbing the box. As you moved your head to the side, you saw a small rose that had been placed since the night before.

From: Simon Riley.

You read the small writings on the cover of the box before softly opening it. There was a small letter of apology along with some sweets that he knew you had always loved. Your heartbeat rised before you placed the box aside. You quickly got up from your bed, walking towards the living room quickly. There he was. Your Simon Riley. He was no longer Ghost, no longer the lieutenant when he was with you.

He slept on the couch, not wanting to wake you up or upset you by sleeping beside you, even though it was his bed you were on. His chest softly rise up and down before hearing your footsteps. He nearly jolted up before meeting your gaze, it was full of love— full of relief and desperation. You pounced on him before his hands went to your waist, steadying you carefully so you won't accidentally fall off of the couch.

"Sweetheart…" He murmured underneath his breath, his voice full of yearning and pure affection. He almost seemed like he regretted leaving you for that silly deployment. "Fuckin' hell, you got me weak on the knees, love."

You didn't say anything, relishing the feeling of his arms that found its way back to your figure. Your breath hitched as you rested your chin on his broad chest, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Your eyes had gone glossy in mere seconds, but Simon did not complain; feeling the way his heart ached as he noticed your eyes swelling up with tears. He embraced you in his arms, taking in your scent that he misses deeply.

"Hey, c'mon, no tears, yeah? 'M back here with you, lovie." His voice was soothing, providing security and love for you. "I missed you sooo much. Y'know tha'? I won't ever, ever, let go of you."

Soon, you would realize how lucky you were to find someone like him— a soft, caring man— hidden behind the act of coldness and hostility.

(Please check your phone :( He replied to every single one of your messages!)

[maskedbyghost]

love your writing so much 💖

could we have some more pure fluff? i’ve been feeling pretty down recently, and want some of your writing to help. :)

maybe something like simon trying to cheer the reader up after being upset over something? i’m giving you creative freedom!!! ❤️❤️❤️

thank you sweet anon, hope you like this! <333

it starts with him noticing the way your shoulders slump. you’re good at pretending everything’s fine—always have been—but not with him. he sees through the fake smiles and forced laughter like glass.

“what’s wrong?” his voice is low, and you shake your head, not trusting your voice, and focus on the mug in your hands, the tea long gone cold.

“you can’t fool me, love,” he says, crouching down beside the couch so he’s at eye level with you. “spill it.”

it takes a moment, but the words finally tumble out—half-formed explanations about a rough day, small things piling up, and the weight of it all sitting heavy on your chest. by the time you finish, your voice cracks, and you’re sure you sound ridiculous, but simon doesn’t laugh. he just listens, nodding when needed, and waits until you’ve said your piece.

“’s not silly,” he says firmly when you mutter something about overreacting. “your feelings aren’t silly, sweetheart.”

he stands then, and you think he’s about to walk off, but instead, he grabs your jacket from the hall and wraps it around your shoulders.

“c’mon,” he murmurs, holding out a hand. “let’s go for a walk. fresh air’ll do you good.”

you hesitate for a second before taking his hand. his fingers are warm, and when he gives yours a small squeeze, it feels like a lifeline.

the two of you step outside, the cool air brushing your cheeks. it’s quiet, save for the sound of your footsteps and the occasional rustle of leaves. simon doesn’t say much, but his presence is enough. he keeps his hand in yours, his thumb tracing absent patterns over your knuckles, grounding you.

at some point, he stops, crouching to pick up a particularly funny-looking leaf. “look at this,” he says, holding it up like it’s some grand discovery.

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you, the first one all day, and he grins like he’s just won something.

“there’s that smile,” he says softly, brushing a thumb across your cheek.

when you get back home, you feel lighter somehow, the weight on your chest not as suffocating. simon makes you a fresh cup of tea and insists on sitting beside you, close enough that his arm brushes against yours. he doesn’t push you to talk more; he just sits there, his presence a quiet comfort.

and when you finally lean into him, letting your head rest on his shoulder, he doesn’t say a word. he just shifts slightly to make you more comfortable, his hand coming up to rest on your back, holding you like he’ll keep all the bad things at bay.

because he will. for as long as you need.

-------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic

[dmitriene]

THOUGHTS ABOUT PROFESSOR SIMON CORRUPTING HIS PLIANT STUDENT.

cw: dark mature content, shameless smut, corruption kink, kinda comfort, reader is delirious, possible age gap (reader in legal age) blowjob, pet names, praises and humiliation, pinv, breeding, intense sex, spanking, creampie, kissing, simon is a bad man. pairing: college professor simon ghost riley x college student fem reader

simon hates the feeling when he has to admit to himself that he's a horrible person, horrible by breaking something purer and more valuable, when all he wanted was a quiet, peaceful life.

but can he really break and stain something that was already perverted by itself, a pure, adorable soul that was ready to kneel before him just from the first sight.

and you don't have any shame at all to admit that it's you.

and either don't simon, by admitting that he loves the sight of you on your knees for him, corrupted by your professor and don't even asking for something in reward, just politely and obediently coming down on the harsh floor to suit yourself between his thick, spread muscular thighs, fat cock that oozes globes of pearly precum already fished out of his trousers, ready for your wet, tight parted mouth.

he's doesn't ashamed to paint your tight throat white, making you choke and gag on his bulbous cock that bruises the back of your tight, hot throat, fat tip spurts milky thick ropes of cum and making you swallow it with muffled gurgles, with your pretty face buried in his pubic, slightly trimmed hair, inhaling the musky aroma and rolling your watering eyes back, not at all registering his roaring, punched out growls — “good fricking girl, such a tigh' slutty throa' for your professor, heck„

and you are, a beautiful thing for simon riley, with puffy slicken lips, shining eyes that see only him in person and in your shameful silly dreams, which makes your thighs rub together almost everytime, silky skin exposed just enough by airy skirts that you wear as if special for him, simon guesses, and he's more than right.

simon feels almost bad, he quit army for better purposes — he had this chance more than anyone else in the forces, and wanted to take full advantage of starting an more quiet, peaceful life with teaching lessons at college, but currently the only thing he takes advantage of is — you.

all the guilt rolls off of him, replacing itself with burning coil in his stomach that makes his broad hips snap purposefully into your backside, plush ass jiggling in front of him and begged to be slapped just right, when a ruler lying nearby falls under his scarred arm, coming against your tender skin with bruising, hard slaps, making you yelp and wail with melodious sobs — “mmph! nn, p — professor riley!„

it's only makes your sloppy pussy gush more slick against his meaty cock, the whole veiny girth stretching your gummy walls and fat tip probes against your cervix with sharp, deep thrusts, leaving you limp and shaking beneath him on the cold, smooth surface of the desk, crumpled papers scattered all around the floor, beneath his feet and sticky from your dripping cleary slick.

simon pounds with purpose, looks how sexy your soft flesh looks scattered with red strikes that ruler left, now laying somewhere long forgotten as his calloused, scarred hands grip your jiggling asscheeks and rounded hips, little skirt crumpled and pushed up enough to open you up to your professor in perverted way, urging him to snarl and fuck you on his hard, throbbing cock harder — “look a' you, such a slutty view, and all because of your professors cock„

you can't even utter a single word, nodding dumbly as you just lay splayed and almost drooling, lips agape to let out incoherent mewls and broken cries of pleasure, pussy drooling and pulsing with each harsh thrust that pounds against your spongy spots so deliciously, fat tip of simon's cock almost nestles against your womb and throb, curling upward to make you shake and sob in pleasure, chanting for him — “s..simon.. mmgh! p — professor!„

he abuses your puffy, pulsing and clenching cunt for what feels like hours, until both of you snap, your hot walls clench and pulse around the fat cock that nestled in you to the brim, clamping and creaming to cover everything with your cum and slick, as simon fills you up rope after rope of thick, potent seed, huffing out growled praises — “good, good fucking girl, take it, jus — fucking take it„ as he rocks his hips, making your cheek squeeze against the cold surface of the wooden desk as your body jolts with each agonizing, overstimulating thrust.

the amount of his cum in you makes your tummy ache, you don't really feel when simon slips his cock out just barely, piercing dark gaze looking hungrily at the creamy mix of fluids on his thick length and how his cum gather in globes to leak out of your clenching hole, before he pushes back again, stuffing your cunny, warm palm moving to lift you off the desk just slightly.

you hear his hoarse chuckle, deep smoky sound as his thick fingers clean the drool off your lips and chin, tilting your head and forcing your bleary, unfocused gaze meet his own, back arching deeper and making your ass jutt out, pressing against simon's hips as he lowers his head to slot his chapped lips against yours, chiseled features rub against your face with slightly ticklish feeling of his light, overgrown stubble.

for a first time in a while, he savors the whole colors of situation, licking into your obediently open mouth gently, sucking on your tongue and lips as you smudge saliva all over his lips and chin, answering him sloppily, an eager sweetling, forcing a deep chuckle off of simon as his palm lays on your throat, feeling your calm pulse as his melted, dark gaze studies your disheveled appearance, thin pale lips curling in so wide, pleased grin as he rumbles — “thinky you deserved the extra credits, dove, did so good for your professor„

maybe, simon doesn't really hate this bubbling feeling inside of him when he sees you, especially when you gaze at him so deliriously, eyelashes fluttering prettily and wet, swollen lips forming into lopsided little smile.

simon riley promised to himself to never come back to his darker side, but does it count when an adorable thing like you holds him in your dainty clutches?

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Simon Riley x Curly Haired Reader

universally applicable to any curly girly (who wears her hair natural) 😋 pure fluff beautiful beautiful image from @ave661

When you and Simon first started going out, he only ever saw you with straight hair - you were worried about spending the night with him in case he would see your natural hair after a shower, and find it ‘ugly’. It was silly, but it felt like your curls didn’t look like other curls, they were just… a mess. The first time Si saw your natural hair, he was immediately all over you, even though he’d only come round to pick up his phone. He got so distracted by you that he completely ‘forgot’ about the phone, and just had to visit you again the next day to get it.

Simon Riley who loves to sit and watch you doing your hair. If you two have to stay at a hotel for a special event, and he’s ready way before you (his military efficiency), he is very happy to sit on the bed and watch as you try to fix that one curl that won’t curl like the rest of your head. He has NO idea what you’re doing, like, completely clueless, but you look pretty doing it.

Simon Riley who genuinely thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. You’re hot with curly hair, with straight hair, you’d be hot with no hair - he really doesn’t care, he just loves you. That said, he does secretly have a soft spot for your curly hair. Something about the volume and the aura it gives you is so perfect. That’s his girl.

Simon Riley who lets you buy hair products with his money. He doesn’t care, he likes to spoil you, and he doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his 3-in-1 shampoo but he’s happy to indulge his pretty girl if it makes her happy.

Simon Riley who is GREAT at messing up your hair. It feels so nice and he always has to touch it, playing with a strand when you’re sitting on the sofa together or full on gripping it while you’re making out. He’s finally learnt that he can’t just rake his hands through it (once they actually got stuck) but that doesn’t stop him from constantly tucking your hair behind your ear or patting it when he has an arm around you .

Simon Riley who, failing that, loves to smell your hair. You tell him it’s weird but your products just smell so good!!! And they smell like you!! If you’re in the kitchen, he’ll hug you from behind, and (not so) secretly smell your hair as he mumbles something to you about something totally random or about how much he loves you. One or the other.

Simon Riley who hopes that your kids have curly hair just like their mummy. The idea of his girl carrying around a toddler with identical curly hair, in little pigtails or tiny braids, melts his heart. He’s a tough guy almost all of the time, he’d probably intimidate any other guy on the street by his size and general rough attitude but if you gave him a baby girl that looked just like you, he would be totally devoted. He’d even let her try to put pink hair clips in his short hair, or draw on his tattooed arms. The idea of watching you do your baby’s hair for them melts his heart.

Simon Riley with whom you once tried to do that cute couple thing where you draw each other, and though you did your best to make a realistic drawing of him, he drew you as a stick figure with loopy squiggles for hair and little hearts around you. He was really proud of it, too. Says he hopes your kids don’t inherit his artistic talent.

i don’t know how many cod girlies have curly hair but i do!!! i wish i had a man to buy me nice products tbh

[canyonmooncreations]

Call Me

Summary: Y/n calls her best friend, Simon, when her boyfriend finally pushes things too far.

Characters: BestFriend!Simon x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: Purely self indulgent, fuck ex boyfriends 

Warnings: mean/potentially abusive boyfriend, tears, mentions of violence

You and your boyfriend, Ben, had been on and off for over a year. It was always up and down, happy and sad. He was a little controlling but was always sweet after. He was angry but also super patient. So hard to predict, it was draining. The only person you can really talk to is your best friend Simon. He was always supportive and always listening no matter what time you called. He supported you rather he agreed with your decision to go back to your boyfriend or not. And you were always in touch with Simon even if your boyfriend was not a fan of “that freak”.

You had recently just graduated from the college where you met Ben and moved to a town that was in the middle of him, Simon, and your family. You had finally gotten your own space and had started the big girl job of your dreams. You couldn’t be happier…. Until it started. 

Your boyfriend was an hour and a half away and with this new space it felt like he had grown a whole new confidence. He was always starting fights and nothing you did was good enough for him. You tried to be happy, but it just seemed like you couldn’t win. Simon knew about what was happening, you called him often to talk about it all. Simon was so supportive and validating your feelings when you needed him most. You used to have the biggest crush on Simon, but you knew you never had a chance with a guy like him. You settled on being friends and then you met Ben. But Simon was the only person you wanted right now.

What you didn’t know was that every time you called him his heart skipped a beat. Simon knew you were just friends and he would never have a chance with a girl like you so he settled for being your best friend. Every time you mentioned Ben, his blood boiled and his fist clenched. He wanted nothing but for you to be happy. Ben was so bad for you. Simon knew Ben read through all of your text messages, so he encouraged you to call him just to be safe. Ben was not typically violent, but Simon knew the patterns and knew it was coming. Of course he couldn’t tell you this because he knew you wouldn’t listen until you were ready for it on your own time. 

What Simon also knew was that your freshman year of college was nothing but depression and alcohol. He was hopeful but knew something bad with Ben could send you down the spiral. He was always waiting for that call to come. The call where you would need him the most. That call finally came. 

Simon was working around his flat, doing some, his least favorite, when his phone rang. It was y/n. The picture he had chosen for you was a picture he had taken at an arcade with you smiling silly holding up the bear you had won (with his tickets). 

“Hey lovey”

“Simon, I- I-”

“What’s wrong?”

“Simon, we got in a big fight and he said he was coming over and I am really scared that he --”

“I am on my way.”

“Simon, no. I live like an hour away from you.”

“I will be there in 45 minutes.”

“Simon! It is an hour drive.”

“Fine. I’ll be there in 30.” 

He hung up at that as you giggled and sniffled. You knew you shouldn’t call him. He probably gets so annoyed hearing all of your problems. But, he was your support system. You decided you would wait for him, right where you were, the bathroom floor. Simon has an apartment key, he can let himself in.

Your head kept racing with thoughts. Was Ben worth it? Was it worth the heartache? What would you tell your friend if they were in your shoes? Did you deserve this? You didn’t think you were the best girlfriend. 

Before you knew it you were sobbing and curling into a towel on your bathroom floor. Too busy crying, you didn’t hear the door open. It was a pitiful sight really and Simon was saddened by what he saw. The world’s most beautiful girl sobbing on her bathroom floor over a boy who didn’t deserve her at all. 

‘“Oh, love.” Simon lowered himself to the floor right beside you. He pulled your head into his lap and ran his fingers through your hair. This was the most soft, innocent touch you had felt in a while. You only cried harder at the thought of someone loving you like they should. You both stayed on the floor until the sobbing subsided after some time had passed. 

“Y/n, can we move this to your bed? This floor can’t be comfy.”

“It is comfier than walking to my bed.” You sniffled as you spoke and this broke his heart. 

“Okay, then….” you felt him set your head back on the towel and his body raise off the floor. You looked at him with confusion as he bent down to pick you up. You giggled as he carried you to your bed. You loved being carried but Ben refused to because it was “childish”. You smacked Simon’s arm as he put you in bed.

“Si, why did you do that?”

“A pretty girl like you should not be crying on the bathroom floor. You will cry in a comfy pillow castle.” He situated your pillows just the way he knew you loved them.

You only smiled at him. You got cozy in bed as Simon walked into the kitchen. The thoughts started racing and the tears started to fall. What if Ben was really coming to “settle this in person and show you who is in charge”. It felt like such a threat, your worst fear coming true. Simon walked back into the bedroom with a juice box and some animal crackers, your favorite.

“What’s the matter?” Simon approached the bed slowly, not sure where your mental state was and how frightened you could be.

“What if he shows up tonight? What if he tries to come inside?”

“Does he have a key?”

“No.”

“Good. Either way, I will be sleeping on the couch and can beat his ass, easily and with pleasure. So nothing to worry about. You’ll be all safe here, princess.”

You only smiled at him as you took the snacks softly. Simon always calls you nicknames, but never this one. You ate your snacks in silence as Simon started to put away your laundry. He knew you hated doing laundry, it was your least favorite chore. It is actually his least favorite too, but he told you it was his favorite and for you, it was. Ben always called you lazy and gross for not putting your laundry away right as it came out of the dryer.

“I can do that.”

“I know.” Simon gave you a reassuring smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. It’s stupid. I am probably overreacting.”

“Your feelings are valid y/n, no matter what you are feeling. I will listen if you want me to. If not, we can talk about anything else.”

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Of course”  You could see that Simon was so excited and you knew he would even let you pick the movie. (Ben would never)

“We can watch… hmmm… I can’t pick.”

“Slasher…”

“Simon! No! You know I hate scary movies. Let’s watch Zootopia.”

“Anything for you.”

You got the movie set up as Simon grabbed some more snacks. You loved these simple moments with Simon. You knew he wouldn’t get angry with you for moving the wrong way, or eating too many snacks. He was simply there in peace. You felt yourself getting tired as the movie played and the tears were about to come back. 

“Simon?”

“Yes, love.”

“Will you… hold me? No, that’s silly. I’m sorry. Forget I even asked.” You buried your face in your hands and the tears just started flowing. 

“Y/n.” He guided your head out of your hands as he wiped your tears. “I would love to hold you. You are not alone in this and I promise you are safe.”

Simon moved so you could comfortably be little spoon, which he knows you love because you always talk about it. He helped move your pillows and got you comfy. He never thought this moment would come. Of course, you had hugged and sat close together, but not like this. You were so vulnerable with all the raw emotions, and you chose him to hold you. With you in his arms, he wanted nothing more than to protect you from the world, and especially from Ben. 

“Thank you, Si.”

“Get some rest and we can talk about everything in the morning. I promise you’ll be safe tonight.” 

He rubbed your side and you cuddled in closer to him. You felt so safe. He felt at home, a feeling he has never felt before. He glanced at you as slept in his arms and couldn’t help but smile and be sad at the same time. You didn’t deserve this pain. You deserved a life of nothing but love and joy. A life he intended to give to you, if you let him.