#call of duty mw x reader

[fortheb0ys]

Bit of a prenap ramble...

I'm just imagining being the barracks bunny for the 141. Bunch of stressed out men with ALOT of needs to fulfill.

They pull you aside and get you to fuck them anywhere and everywhere. Showers, offices, military vehicles. There's been numerous times that get you to fuck them one by one in the aircraft back to base as the others watch in lustful awe as they jerk themselves.

Soap a bit more needing than the rest. The mission reports bearly touch before he's palming himself through his pants. He's already came once or twice before you reach his room. He'd milk you dry as you fuck into the early hours of the morning.

Ghost doesn't like to admit he likes the attention you give him. The way the burdens he feels melt away with each of your touches. You're one of the very few that are lucky to see his face yet alone to see his face completely fucked stupid.

Ghost and Soap, an otherwise close duo, fighting over who gets to be fucked first. The argument ending with your tongue deep in Soap's ass and Ghost riding your dick, them making as they do so.

Gaz on the other hand is a bit reserved to ask. It'll take till the stress boils over till he's begging. You treat him like the perfect man he is. Gentle and sweet. His eyes nearly tearing up as you lay soft kisses along his gorgeous body.

Price is a work first, fuck later kinda guy. You're moreso the one getting impatience for sex. He'd cockwarm as he does his paperwork, occasionally tightening his walls around when you get antsy. As a reward for a mission well done, you get to fuck your beloved captain on his desk.

[gothghostiie]

price with reader who never got much attention as a kid/growing up??

very self indulgent but hear me out. price is a lover man. he takes his time for his partners, gives them what they need, even if he's busy. you on the other hand are simply used to being put aside, people only listening to you half heartedly, not looking at you and getting distracted when you talk, other things were always more important than you and you felt that. you got used to it, it's normal to you.

but when you're with price he's the total opposite. he looks at you intently when you talk (if not hes leaning his head towards you so he hears you better), putting things down when you ask him something - hes attentive. he listens. and its absolutely strange to you, it makes you feel flustered, kinda watched. at some point you ask him why hes looking at you like that, the tv running in the backround. he furrows his eyebrows at you, with a confused chuckle. "what do you mean, love?"

"you're starin' at me." you accuse him, your cheeks getting hot.

"you're talkin' to me. where else would I be looking?" he jokes with a soft chuckle, wondering what the hell you're on about.

"your show's on." you say, gesturing to the tv. he looks at you like youve got three heads.

"I'm listening to you, love."

[mina-org]

Thinking about retired John with a younger wife, and he just can’t keep up or keep it up with sex, his hips hurt and he find it humiliating how fast he comes or that he just can’t finish. S/o is sweet about it, kissing his cheek and comforting him but he knows his pretty girl has need and he’s not taking care of them it eats at him, so he enlists some help.

he knows his sweetheart would never do anything with, or ask for another man. just go on, happily neglecting herself:(

He doesn’t know if he should ask Simon, he’s big and mean and he’s not sure if your pretty pussy needs that right now. of course it would be a pretty sight to see simon fucking his sweetheart, have them on all fours, trembling nearly ruined. John could already see the tears, he could ever be that mean to his girl:( he'd love to see it though

Johnny is similar, but less mean and a bit too freaky for right now, he’d love to watch the Scot wreck you, love to lap up your cunt and wanted to hold you still while you squirm but still a bit intense when the two of you hadn’t fucked in months and Johnny was always introducing him to the kinkest shit and its just too much to start with.

Kyle though? Perfect. Simon and johnny were takers but Kyle? He’d give you want you want and need, he'd bring you to tears and kiss them away, he was able to give you what you need and be gentle about it and of course more than happy to help!

the two other men are jealous to say the least, simon's known you the longest and John used him to protect you more than a few times, in fact the way simon looks at you is what sparked the idea:(

johns a proud man and loves showing you off, and it started innocent enough, it just escalated but John sure you'll love it

[kismetlotts]

cw: money kink? Simon is obsessed, Simon loves you spending his money and giving you money, strangers online, mentions of male masturbation, mentions of oral sex, reader streams and goes live a lot, mentions of poor financial situation, Simon yearns, controlling, reader starts an OnlyFans, jealous Simon Riley, mentions of the name 'Daddy'

Simon Riley who barley uses social media and doesn't understand it well. He supposes he’s never really had a proper reason to. Sometimes he would check up on his teammates private lives, see how they are doing when they are away and off duty; sometimes he could be caught watching the odd dog meme video that pops up- earning a small, slither of a smile from the scarred stoic man.

But honestly, he’s never had a reason to bother, no account profile picture or bio and a randomly generated username he wouldn't know how to change even if he wanted to. Most of the time he would have two or three followers and always one of them was someone he had no idea of.

He never had a reason to give a shit about the online world, not until he saw you.

Sat at your desk, eyes sparkling under your warm ceiling light. Eagerly reading the chat-box at the bottom of your stream as you answered peoples questions with genuine interest. Your smile made his chest burn hot and his eyes caught notice of your fingers fidgeting with your hair. You were stunning, absolutely fucking breathtaking and Simon couldn't get enough; he needed you.

He would join every single live, not messaging or saying anything to you but just watching and suffocating in silence. He wouldn't miss the way you licked your lips wet and chewed on your lower lip as you waited for more people to join. If it wasn't for his expertise in self control he would've been fisting his cock to the sight of you.

He would have you full blast on his phone as he pottered around his house, your angelic voice singing out words of ecstasy through the cold empty walls like you were there with him. His precious little sweetheart, living with him in his head and in his home. Who would've thought a stranger like you could mess someone like Simon up this fucking badly?

He learnt things about you, jotting them down in the notebook of his brain. Learnt the places you wanted to travel to and experiences you wanted to live- and found himself wanting to be beside you: witnessing it first hand. He found himself for the first time in years wanting to live and not just survive.

Despite his toll of silence, you didn't miss the way he was always there. Checking the viewer count to see his account right at the top as per usual. Time didn't seem to matter either, when you had woken up at early in the morning and decided to go live out of boredom- he was there. In the middle of the day when you were on your lunch break, ragged looking earphones trailing out your ear as you whispered into the microphone at the back of the café, he was there watching. He was always there and it felt strange.

In honesty, his consistency petrified you. You knew it was all in your head but the nagging feeling that it was one of your fucked up, clingy exes, still keeping tabs on you despite going your separate ways, made you sick. Hoping was all you could ever do because you wouldn't dream of confronting the mysterious account that was watching, lingering and following you every second your phone was powered on. It was highly unlikely to be anyone you knew and you weren't entirely sure if that was for better or worse.

When your first couple of donations rolled in, you didn't know what to say. Smiling and thanking the donators by name as your cheeks heated up.

You never asked for money or pleaded for donations; the option was always there if people wanted to. You certainly weren't going to beg or come across as a 'money hungry' but some extra cash on the side was definitely not a bad idea. The fact that people were so generous and kind to donating pennies and pieces to help reach the goal of buying your own place. It wasn't much people were sending in but every little help strangers would accompany you with, made you realise the world wasn't so selfish after all: and when Simon noticed this. He reached for his card.

Hundreds, multiple hundreds and it was just a ridiculous amount of money that piled in from his account. It was the first time you had seen him interact with you aside from liking your content or watching your streams- what the fuck were you supposed to say? Your eyes would lock onto the screen, mouth slightly agape revealing your wet tongue as you tried to find the words. Simon fucking groaned.

The blank, grey profile picture looked back at you with numbers you couldn't comprehend attached to it. Simon was helping you tremendously and despite your gratefulness you couldn't help but end your stream- guilt surfacing in your throat because that was a lot of money to be handing away to a stranger. It felt rude taking it, you were scared to take it- it felt like borrowed money not gifted money because who sends someone that amount of cash. Who in their right fucking mind?

The worst part was he didn't stop there- in honesty, watching how fogged your mind got and watching the way you struggled for words- he couldn't find himself able to stop. It was a high for him, he wanted to give you everything you wanted.

He would crack his neck, a moan falling from his lips as he clicked on your live with a grin. Adrenaline fuelling his body as he sent more, and more, and more until he heard the shake in your voice. 'Stop' falling from your lips between nervous giggles and he knew you meant it, feeling his heart ricochet in his chest but still, he continued.

The mental aspect of the situation had led you to taking a short break off of streaming, you were sure he wasn't some crazy ex from the amount of money he had given you and the realisation it was some random stranger always being there instead, didn't make you as uncomfortable as you thought it would've. He was probably some old man with a fetish for seeing some girl like you everyday and spoiling you. The worst case scenario was that he could be a stalker or a murderer who had taken a liking into you- but even then you were highly careful of what you let slip online and who could be out there.

It was difficult, you wanted him to leave as much as you wanted him to stay- you couldn't block him after he had spent all that money on you and as much as you wished he wouldn’t have done that: it was very helpful.

A good few weeks had past since you had uploaded and you figured that he would be onto some other girl by now. Splashing the cash for some supermodel look alike as he whispers into her microphone things that drive men wild. But of course that wasn't the case.

Simon was going fucking haywire. He couldn't sleep without hearing your muffled little voice in his dreams, your sleeping little face and messed up hair with your tantalisingly lowcut pyjamas, where were you? Where had you disappeared to? He would check your account religiously, just in case you posted and his notification didn't go off. He had googled ways to tell if he had been blocked- but the reality of the situation was that you had just became inactive.

It made his lungs ache and knees weak without hearing your voice daily- just old videos he had re-watched over and over again. Your absence worried him and it worried himself with how badly he was getting attached to you. His days felt like months, his strong demeanour replaced by one that was moping and mourning. Jesus- you weren't fucking dead. If you were fucking dead he would ruin whatever stole you from him. Was this stalker like behaviour? Was he being a fucking loser for worrying about you?

Upon your return you had decided to create a dreaded OnlyFans account. It was just to raise money and you weren't expecting to blow up into some massive porn star earing millions from sex work- you kept it pretty downlow. It was as much humiliating as it was necessary- without Simon there to send you hundreds of pounds, you needed the extra pay for groceries and rent money. Plus- it seemed everyone your age was doing it so what was the harm? You uploaded a quick video to promote your new account, posted it and sat down at your one seat table.

The cold of the wooden chair hitting your thighs and the dim lights of your kitchen made you realise how tiny your apartment was. Even for one person you felt like you were incarcerated- stuck in a prison cell but you couldn't afford to leave yet. The sound of your swallow echoing into the silence as you finished up your instant ramen- humming in satisfaction as your phone hummed to. You picked it up, your stomach turning cold as a message request came through.

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account?

Simon was fucking seething. Posting your tits- your body, that little mouth of yours sucking on objects that weren't his cock for other men to see? For other men to pay for? He almost cracked his phone when he opened your notification to that and he would've if it wasn't for his urgency to get you to delete your account. He had heard of OnlyFans, he wasn't daft and you were coming off there whether you liked it or not.

Your heart stuttered seeing the familiar account and a scoff of shock fell from your lips. He hadn't forgotten you after all. The mysterious account had finally broke his silence and your stomach fluttered with feeling you couldn't make sense of. He hadn't moved on from you, he couldn't move on from you- should you be weirded out by this?

Sorry?

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account. Now?

The pulse in your vein throbbed as you finally made sense of his question. The giddy feeling from earlier at the realisation he was waiting for you, subsided into thick strings of anxiety. Hypothetically, if you had run your account on there for a good few months, posting regularly and having a handful of subscribers- you would bring home a good portion of money to save up. You couldn't ask him for a lot of money- especially after all the money he had already gave but you couldn't delete your account for little to nothing. So, you took the time to nicely write back to him and explain your financial situation to him. Explaining how you need to money to help save for a future house- that you need food and necessities and that your shitty job doesn't pay you enough.

The chat fell silent, Simon began to type and then stopped- disappearing and you shut your phone off worried you had either overshared and accidently unloaded everything onto him or upset him.

I mean- you didn't owe him anything- he donated all that money to you on his behalf but you couldn't help the niggling feeling of regret and shame that you had offended someone so nice that had done so much for you. You told yourself that he was still probably some creep, some fucked up pervert that probably only watched for one thing. But if that was the case, why would he be against your OnlyFans? Maybe you read him wrong- or maybe he wanted you all for himself.

You felt your phone ping again, opening the chat to a payment of multiple thousands.

This your spending money for food and whatever else you want. And I can buy you a house darling, don't you worry.

The high numbers full your screen and you blinked. Your head unable to comprehend if this was real or not. A whole house? Spending money? Was this guy fucking rich? He obviously had money to give away willingly so there was no doubt he was rich. But still though, did he not have a family to spend this money on- or anything better to do with it? Without properly thinking you typed back your response, sitting back on your chair as your eyes darted around your small apartment. Was he deadly serious about buying you a house?- Who were you kidding, of course he was serious.

Are you a sugar daddy or something?

Simons concrete façade broke as he snorted, reading your message. Imagining your sweet, pretty, intoxicating voice reading it out to him while he melts and loses himself in you. He should just send you his card and bank details- he should just send you all of his fucking money and spoil you absolutely rotten. He would give you anything you wanted- he would let you walk all over him and drain his fucking account. The thought of you all dolled up, new shoes, new clothes, new perfume. The thought of you comfortable, clean and fed- fuck he had never felt this horny and desperate before. He fisted his cock through his jeans as he sat up on his couch, stretching and adjusting a little before looking back down at the message. Fingers typing back a reply before plopping his phone down beside him.

Not a sugar daddy, I just like your smile, Sunshine.

But if you really wanted to call me daddy, I wouldn't be opposed to the idea.

[amaranthinespirit]

könig is determined to breed you (p!link)

his pace isn't nice, its straight mean as he pounds his thick, meaty cock into your drooling warmth, desperate to put a baby in your womb. he's not gentle about it either, mind racing and going dumb at the thought, hastily working to make it happen.

your tummy bulges with the way he sheathes his entire bulbous cock in your tight hole, spongy walls constricting around him, feeling every ridge and vein as you hug him tight. his angry, red tip punches against your cervix, ready to spurt his thick load into your sweet cunt.

he knows you'll let him, you'll let him do whatever he wants as he fucks you stupid, jackhammering deeper and deeper with relentless pace. the backs of your thighs reddening and your plush rear bouncing against his hips. his full balls slap against your clit, making you cry out into the bedding, saliva leaking from your lips.

above you, he moans incessantly, pussy-drunk and whipped as he mindlessly humps you, large, rough hands grabbing at your hips, so tight it might bruise.

he mumbles words you can't quite hear, feeling drooling saliva drip from his lips down onto your bare shoulder, running down your back. his jaw is slack, head tilted back and pupils blown.

it doesn't take long for him to fill you full of his seeds, spurting thick ropes of his white, creamy cum to fill your sweet pussy, coating your walls and leaving you full and satisfied. he pulls out to watch it drip out of you, calloused hands pulling your cheeks apart as he watches your slit leak with his release and drip onto the bed. he takes two thick fingers, smearing it across your folds before fucking it back inside you, hoping it takes.

[the-palelady]

cowboy!ghost is soooo desperate to get his hands on the cute nurse he’s had his eyes set on since he showed up in town.

the last patient for the day is already making their way to the exit when he steps inside the dingy clinic. he’s calm. too calm for a man who’s got the image of you writhing beneath him in pleasure sitting so vividly in his mind.

you greet him with that same saccharine smile, uttering something about how you were almost done for the day. the rest of your words were lost to the wind.

amber irises followed the sway of your hips, the natural pout of your lips as you concentrated on finishing up your doctor’s notes.

you were oblivious to the way he stalked up behind you, a bear cornering its prey, pinning it down with the shadow of its massive form. his hands find the edge of the desk, and you’re caged.

and he almost falls to his knees seeing how tiny you are beneath him, head knocking against his chest when you stand up to your full height.

a gasp leaves you, eyes darting up to look at your reflection in the window, but all you see is the darkness in his eyes, cloudy with something that has your thighs pressing together, the apples of your cheeks flushing a bright shade of pink.

ghost doesn’t let you get a word in, instead leaning down to press his lips to the shell of your ear.

“kept me waitin’ long enough, love. i’ll apologize to the doc tomorrow for the mess m’about to make.”

[chamomiletealeaf]

Being so sensitive to squirting that the 141 make fun of your for it and have little competitions to see who can make you squirt the fastest :(

Johnny holds the record of 37 seconds from fingering you so fast you couldn’t tell when his fingers were inside or out of you.

After their little competition your poor pussy was so swollen and sensitive that all it took was a few rough spanks to your pussy from Price to make you squirt again.

“Oh well look at that? Seems we got a new record holder hm?” Price teases you and Johnny.

“That doesn’t count the competition is over!” Johnny exclaims angrily at Price.

Meanwhile Simon and Gaz are fucking rock hard from watching you squirt again so quickly.

[khioneee]

you don’t follow simon’s orders.

mdni.

you’ve always had a defiant streak when it comes to your lieutenant. something about the way he barked orders, the way he towered over everyone, the way his presence demanded respect—it made you want to push back, to see how far you could go before he snapped.

today, you might’ve gone too far.

‘you better watch that pretty little mouth of yours,’ simon growled, his voice low and dangerous, his gaze pinning you in place.

but then his lips curved into the faintest, cruelest smirk as he leaned in closer, his words dripping with a dark, unspoken promise.

‘before i fuck it.’

your breath hitched, the air around you suddenly feeling too thick, too charged. defiance warred with something else entirely, something you couldn’t name but burned all the same.

this was a game, wasn’t it? a battle of wills. but now, you weren’t so sure you’d win.

[thedevillovesflowers]

“You want half?”

(Yes I’ve seen reacher)

[slater-baby]

Tags: Age Gap, Daddy kink, overstimulation

Price gets whiskey dick HARD. Like, literally, a glass at dinner and it’s liable to happen

Though, it never really bothered him. It just means he has more time to spread you out over the mattress, bully his clumsy, drunk fingers into your soft cunt, and swirl his tongue around your clit until the taste of alcohol has left his mouth…it also conveniently gives him more time to loosen up his creaky knee joints enough to fuck you lmao

When you first started dating, Price was a bit worried if a man like him would be enough to satisfy a young bird like you. But the first time he took you home and leant you over his bed frame, your sweet little thighs raw and sore from chafing against the hair on his graying beard…

Well, he didn’t see the point in being embarrassed about having a take a couple of viagra to get it up.

After all, you were so fucked out after waiting all that time, brain fried from more orgasms than you could possibly count, that you hardly noticed when he let go of you.

It was nothing short of perfection, looking at you like that. Sprawled out on his mattress, panting like you’d just run a marathon.

Meanwhile, he leans against the bathroom doorway, popping a little blue pill between his teeth, flicking his belt buckle out of the loops.

“Shhh—don’t worry, baby,” he coos, stepping towards your beautiful, ruined body, “Daddy’s almost ready now. Only half ‘n hour more before the pills start workin’…”

When tears start falling from your eyes mere seconds after your fifth orgasm of the night…well, John drinks them in just as well as a glass of whiskey.

“Shit, birdie, don’t start cryin’ yet…gonna let an ol’ man like me outlast you in bed? Where’s your sense of pride gone now, huh, darlin’? Now, spread your legs, baby, c’mon. I didn’t take all those lil’ pills for nothing, yeah?”

[fortheb0ys]

A sudden dip in the bed startles you awake. Before you could reach for your gun, a small voice cuts through the darkness.

"Y/N, Y/N?"

Makarov, a feared man, whimpers your name. You reach and turn on the lamp. Blinking your eyes as to adjust to the light, you were greeted to a blood soaked Makarov. The sheets quickly turned red as blood dripped onto them. It wasn't the first time he came home in such a state and surely it wouldn't be the last.

Makarov is kneeling, ready and waiting for whatever you would give him. His pupils are blown, black consuming any colour in his eyes. He's trembling slightly, but patiently waited for you to make a move.

"Hello, pretty." You whisper as you bring your hand to rest on his cheek. Makarov leans into your soft touch.

Without a moments notice, Makarov grabs your shoulders and smashes your lips together. The kiss was violent, dirty and full of sinful lust. Quickly you both became breathless but were unwilling to separate. Your mind became dizzy and your eyes grew dim. You felt like you could pass out at any second but Makarov's tongue against yours felt like life itself.

When it all became too much you push Makarov off you and slam him into the mattress. A growl your throat as you rip off Makarov's bloody clothes.

You kiss at every inch on his exposed skin, licking the blood off clean. You bit him, just to bloody him once again. Teeth ripping off skin, tongue soothing the wounds.

Your cock painfully hard as you looked upon your artwork. The canvas, Makarov's beautiful body. Covered in blood, both old and new.

Makarov's lips twisted into a mad smile, feeling proud about how he's got you so feral. He pulls you into a heated kiss, tasting his own blood.

His cock is hard against your thigh as his tries to rut to get any friction. Giving into his desire you spit into your palm and grab your cocks together. Stroking at a tired sloppy pace. He hisses at the dryness, your saliva not quite enough for a smooth hand job.

He rambled on that someone was dead. A MacSomething. MacTavish you think he said. About how he killed him for you. How he'd kill all of them for you. Makarov wanted to destroy everything that stood in front of you. You were his muse for the destruction. Destroy the world for turning it's back to Makarov's beloved.

"They'll all die, beloved." Makarov whispers low.

The dead man didn't matter, all that matter was Makarov. The whole world could burn and it wouldn't matter.

All that matter was Makarov skin against. The world melt away at each biting kiss. At each stoke you both become undone. Pearls of white bead at your tips.

You once again bury your teeth into his neck, biting deep as you both cum. Red and milky white paints your bodies. A finished canvas in blood and cum.

[gothghostiie]

something something babysitter!reader, price calling you to pick you up earlier because his shitty ex wife made sure he has the wrong time for the court hearing, you rush over to his house. hes incredibly thankful while horribly stressed, quickly tying his tie around his neck while on the way to the door. you, being the sweet thing you are, follow him around to help, baby on your hip, keys in the other. he takes them while you're standing in the doorframe and without thinking; call it force of habit; he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before speeding off.

[mina-org]

“You don’t know fuck” Simon say pushing the bouquet away and you with it.

“Simon can’t we just try? We’re practically already dating” you say, a little more desperate this time, hanging on every word, hoping they’d turn sweet but they never do.

“Darlin im just here cause ya jump on me when I see ya, dirty slag, what about when im deployed? Ya jump on any fuckin thing” he practically spits out.

Tears sting at your eyes, you thought you were getting somewhere with him but Simon’s affection’s aren’t for you, not to keep, hes made that clear time after time. Yet here you are clutching on to the evening primrose, as he laughs you out the room. Why the fuck would he want flowers? Why would he want you?

You bolt out of his apartment, or his bedroom anyway, disheveled and panties discarded on his bedroom floor as you tug on the locked front door.

Great

You’d have to go back, tears streaming down your face.

God this was a shit show.

“Alright doll?” A gruff voice interrupts your prayers for the ground to swallow you up.

Great now you have an audience of Simon’s roommates, the older guy talking while the other two gawk at you like your some sort of freak show.

“Just leaving.” You choke out, staring at the floor like a child caught and shamed for bed wetting. His eyes are heavy as they weigh you down before he unlocks the door, muttering out a sorry on Simon’s behalf.

“Don’t cry lass, Simon likes ya, just not used to it.” Johnny says, he’s always been friendly to you, in passing of course, you were in their flat for Simon, and Simon only and it wasn’t your conversational skills. Johnny did hope Simon hadn’t fucked it with you, the walls were so fine having you about was like girlfriend asmr and he had cancelled his patreon subscriptions.

You awkwardly shuffle out. Vowing you’d never go back to that flat again or have anything to do with them, blocking Simon and changing gyms, now you’d never have to see him again.

buttttt when Johnny messages to check in on you, you can’t help but respond, the Scotsman didn’t do anything wrong and it was so sweet for to check on you. Maybe it would’ve been different if you knew every text was being planned by the four men, but you’re just too pretty when you cry.

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five- six

[kismetlotts]

cw: mentions of oral sex, first date with Simon Riley, Simon is very awkward, drabble

Simon Riley being such an awkward and blunt individual when it comes to dating- it freaks you out because you don't know where you stand. In the SAS, Simon was a cold-hearted bugger, even to his own team. There was little they knew about him and he liked to keep it that way because when things were private they were easier to deal with. What would the point even be filling his teammates, co-workers, in on private matters?

He was impassive. Socially awkward but not in the shy, anxious way people would assume. He could never read the room or bring himself to give a shit, he did what he wanted and took little to no notice of what others though. It sounded fine, and for the most part it was.

But dating was fucking hard- being paired up with real whiny, bitchy women who would just complain over every minuscule thing- fucking hell, he wasn't a goddamn therapist. He didn't have time for people like that- his job showed him how short and vague life can be and he wasn't letting anyone waste his valuable minutes. He hated dating, hated putting himself out there just to come back home and sight in relief at the emptiness- he hated everything about it until he went out with you.

Your first online interaction was a mess of you trying to use some god-awful pick-up line that everyone aside from Simon could comprehend. 'What that mean?' and 'Ok.' Being your only two responses and what the hell, you were intrigued. He was just so- cutting? So rambunctiously dull in a careless manner, you couldn't help but wonder what he was life in real life. And after a few more messages back and fourth, there was no need to wonder anymore.

You drove to the restaurant you were meeting at yourself as he didn't even offer to come pick you up. His overwhelming chivalry and charm, clearly seeping in through his actions already! But honestly you were glad that he didn't. It gave you an exit just in case the date was bad and you just had to leave. Driving there yourself on the first date wasn't anything out of the norm anyway but you were used to men offering most of the time.

You greeted each other at the entrance and you were not expecting from a few blurry selfies of him to be so tall and jacked. Muscles only just squeezing out the armholes of his shirt as he nodded to you and walked inside. Not opening the door for your or even bothering to hold it after himself- nope. Just walking inside as casual as he can be; you couldn't contain your laugh.

He ordered what he wanted to eat, letting you order what you liked as well and the two of you finally got to talking. You shared things about yourself, listened to his deep, gruffly voice share things about him and honestly- it was probably the weirdest yet the best date you had ever been on.

You weren't used to people being like this and it made you surprisingly comfortable and not so on edge as usual. There had been dates that you had gone on that you thought were great; you felt a connection, they said they reciprocated but after it was over ghosted and blocked you for some reason. It hurt you every time and with Simon, you felt like that wouldn't be the case. He seemed like the kind of person that wouldn't mess about and wouldn't still be at the table if he felt nothing.

The food came and Simon dug straight into his steak. Your cheeks warming slightly at all the people sat around the two of you, eating softly, chuckling and sipping on red wine meanwhile Simon just enjoyed himself. His chin was dripping from the juice, fingers messy because despite the knife and fork he made an attempt to use- it was just easier with his hands. Deep brown eyes catching your own and blinking in confusion. His chest fluttered at the sound of your chuckle, a small smirk inching onto his face and he hadn't felt this relaxed with someone in months. He hadn't felt able to be himself.

The dinner went on as you swallowed and picked at your food, not wanting to scare him away or embarrass yourself which was stupid given how messily and carelessly he ate. You knew he probably wouldn't care at all but still- you did it anyway. Looking up at him as you placed your fork in your mouth, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Fucking hot. The lighting was so warm- and suddenly the room felt burning hot. The electricity between the two of you, high voltage and you bit your bashful smile down. Stomach aching in arousal as he sat back in his chair watching the way your lips chewed and swallowed.

"I want to eat you out."

And you almost choked. It was so calm, so nonchalant as it practically just leaked from his mouth. No awareness, no worry for who else might have heard him say that- simply just placing his cards upon the table and informing you of what he was thinking about. Horror coating his face as he saw you splutter and choke on your words, mouth agape in shock. He didn't mean to say anything wrong- he thought that was how it was supposed to go, was it not?

Handing you a napkin and sitting forward a little more as he apologised with a guilty smile. You shook your head, mind still spinning from his words and body boiling with a newfound sexual desire. Sipping on the glass of your drink to calm yourself as you assured him it was fine, telling him it was no big deal.

But, holy fuck.

[novasintheroom]

It’s hard to complain about your body with Simon around. He’ll watch you squish your stomach in the mirror, lips tugging down, and come up behind you to take your hands and hold you close. “Stop doin’ that,” he’ll murmur. “S’fine.” You complain about the curve of your cheeks, and he’s just baffled. He loves your cheeks. Loves to pinch them when you’re cute, pull them when you’re being sassy, rub his own stubbled cheek against yours just to feel it, bite the apple of it when he gets you to laugh. You pout down at your thighs when they squish out as you sit on the couch, and Simon is there to lay his head on your lap, murmuring something about not needin’ a pillow.

Simon loves the pudge of your belly. The fat on your thighs. In a world where he is constantly surrounded by harsh lines and harsher men, your softness enthralls him. To return home to it after a hard mission is what he looks forward to most.

[the-palelady]

when cowboy!ghost is leaving the clinic after his usual visit to his favorite nurse he always makes sure to let her know he loves her. his job is dangerous. last thing he wants is for him to go out without her knowing how much she means to him.

so one day he gives your lower back a pat, whispering a “love ya, sweetheart,” before turning to leave.

however, you don’t say it back.

simon stops dead in his tracks while you continue on about your business. for a moment he waits it out, maybe you didn’t hear him? maybe something else caught your attention and you had to take care of it before responding?

but your response never comes.

so he turns to face you, his expression nothing short of annoyed, eyes narrowed, lips pulled tight under the bandana that obscures the lower half of his face.

your back is turned to him when he stomps over towards you. he minds your hands of course, making sure you aren’t holding any of the doctor’s instruments before he turns you around, jolting you from your work.

your eyes meet a raging fire, his pupils almost dilated. your cheeks are pinched between his thumb and fingers, lips pursed.

“si-“

his voice is a deep rumble, thunder clapping in the distance.

“i said…i love ya, honey. now i know that pretty mouth of yours hasn’t forgotten how to say it, or do i need to give it a reminder?”