#inside the mind of Simon but instead it’s just me
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Inside the mind of Benjamin
#you don’t get the context#shitpost#idk#I was talking with my friend and felt the need to tell them#and tumblr#Miracle musical reference#teehee the mind electric#inside the mind of Simon but instead it’s just me
1 note
·
View note
Text
Simon Riley who plays dirty. CW : threesome(?), technically cheating but no angst, pussy slap, mentions of masturbation.
Simon hates it when you touch yourself when he's away.
He knows you can't bring yourself the same pleasure he can. So he makes it a rule. No touching yourself unless he's present and has given you permission.
And it goes well for a while. You touch yourself a few times when you aren't supposed to, causing Simon to punish you. Which he enjoys more than he should.
Until you frustratingly become such a good girl, you refuse to touch yourself when Simon's away.
Simon tries everything to get you to fold, he sends you dirty texts, voice messages of him moaning as he stroked his cock, even videos of him stroking his cock. But nothing made you break.
So, he had to bring Johnny into the mix.
It wasn't unusual for Johnny to come by the apartment when Simon was away. Nor was his usual flirtatious personality.
But finding yourself on the couch underneath the scotsman was definitely unusual.
Your mind was mush, eyes rolling back. Johnny had you folded in half, one knee against your chest, the other leg being held over his shoulder.
"She tight as you thought, Johnny?" The familiar gravel of your boyfriend's voice spoke as he dropped his duffel bag by the door.
Your eyes snapped to Simon, your mouth opening to beg for his forgiveness, but whatever you were going to say dissolved into a whorish moan.
"S'fucking tight, LT. Why'd you have to keep 'er from me f'so long?" Johnny groaned.
"You know the rules, lovie. No touching yourself. Think that you could find a loophole by letting Johnny touch you instead?" Simon asked with a sadistic grin. Reaching between you and Johnny, pinching and rubbing at your clit.
"Hah~No! 'm sorry Si!" you beg, tears in your eyes a mix of guilt and pleasure.
"Shhh, no crying, lovie. Johnny's just trying to make you feel good while I was away. He was just taking care of my pet f'me" Simon chuckled, wiping away a stray tear.
You seem to realise that Simon and Johnny were in this together. That Simon wasn't mad at you.
Johnny leaned down and licked a tear off your cheek, growling low in his chest.
"C'mon mutt, you talked such a big game. Make her come like you told me you would" Simon demanded. Johnny nodded, his brows furrowed.
"come f'me Bonnie, come on. Come on my cock" Johnny moaned, pulling your hips flush against his own as he came deep inside you. Hot ropes coating your insides.
You nodded desperately, mouth dropping open and eyes rolling back as you orgasm. A scream of pleasure being ripped from your throat.
You pant and whine weakly as Johnny pulled out. Your eyes snapping open when you feel a harsh slap on your oversensitive cunt. Simon grinning down at you, fishing his cock from his jeans.
"No where near done yet, lovie"
⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧
just so everyone knows, requests are open! I get stuck for ideas sometimes, so I'd love to hear some of your guys' ideas!
#Val ⁺‧₊˚𓌹⋆☠︎︎⋆𓌺˚₊‧⁺#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley fanfiction#ghost x reader#ghost x y/ n#ghost cod#ghost x you#simon ghost fluff#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost simon riley#ghost smut#ghost mw2#ghost#simon riley imagine#simon riley cod#simon x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod x you#cod ghost x reader#ghost cod x reader#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley smut#simon riley fluff#ghoap
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
I can't stop thinking about Ghost being a better boyfriend than your ex, even without establishing that title....
This is a continuation of part one.
warning: mention domestic abuse
💀
Simon was there every night you worked. You never gave him your schedule, but he'd show up and settle onto one of the stools like clockwork. Soap often joined him, and while they carried on like always, you knew Simon's gaze lingered on your body. You could practically feel the weight as you took drink orders and pulled pints. It wasn't unwelcome. In fact, it made everything easier knowing you weren't alone if your ex dared show his face.
When your shifts ended, Simon would walk you back to your new place. The one time you insisted he didn't need to do that, he grunted and said, "What if I want to?"
You didn't mention it again. Instead you got into a routine of giving him a fifteen minute warning when your shift was going to end, and you'd head out into the cold night with him at your side. He was mostly quiet while you chatted about whatever was on your mind. When you'd ask him about himself, he'd reroute the conversation back to you. Then he would wait while you unlocked your door and stepped inside.
You always had the urge to invite him in, but you were taking up so much of his time already. And what would you do with him anyway? This hulking military man with kind eyes?
You thanked him and gave him a little wave before ducking inside, and you knew he always waited until he heard the sound of your door locking before he left.
"Y' alright, love?" he asked one night when you were starting to feel particularly good about yourself again. Your split lip had healed which required less makeup. You felt stronger for having left your ex in the dust. You were wearing a new top that made you feel sexy.
"Yeah. I'm alright, Simon. I feel really good, actually."
You served him a drink and refused to let him pay. You really ought to make him stop tipping you at this rate. He was doing so much for you and getting nothing in return. He was doing all of the boyfriend duties just as he had promised, but he never so much as touched you other than the occasional hand hold.
What if you wanted more?
He broke into your thoughts as he said, "I can tell. Ya' been smiling more. Almost ready to go?"
Tonight you felt like you were floating along the dirty sidewalk with your hand tucked in Simon's massive paw. He was keeping you warm without doing anything, and he listened to your nervous rambling as you tried your best to work up your courage. But the two of you reached your front door all too quickly.
"Get inside," he said, voice deep and tender in spite of the command. "An' lock up."
When he started to pull his hand away, you didn't let him. And you didn't budge when one of his eyebrows inched higher. "Not quite yet," you whispered, toe tapping the cement step you were standing on which put you slightly closer to him in height. "I have to tell you something."
Simon's lips pressed together in a tight line, and his chin dipped in a slight nod. "I need to tell ya' something, too. Just don't want to."
"What?" you asked immediately, the lightness you'd been feeling instantly replaced with a lead brick inside you.
"I'm leaving. Late tomorrow night. Not until after I make sure ya' get home from the pub."
"Leaving?" you whispered, heart pounding faster. He was in the military. Some sort of special mission involvement. You knew that much. And you could read between the lines to know that someone who looked and behaved like he did was probably about to risk his life, not for the first time. "Simon, where are you going?" you asked with tears in your eyes even though you figured he wouldn't be able to tell you.
Simon shook his head, his lips curling into a soft smile. It was a rare sight, and it made you dizzy. "Pretty little thing like you shouldn't be worried 'bout me." You wanted to tell him you would be. You'd worry nonstop until you saw him again. You'd come to rely on him, but mostly you liked how you felt when he was around. "There'll be someone to walk ya' home from work every night. I can promise that."
You wanted to lean in and kiss him, but instead you threw your arms around his neck. He was so solid and warm, and the scrape of his facial hair on your cheek was somehow comforting. "But I'll see you tomorrow, right?" you asked, voice breaking on a sob.
"I'll see ya' tomorrow, love."
He didn't move an inch as you extracted yourself, and the sound of his receding footsteps could only be heard once you'd locked yourself inside.
💀
Part three
#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley cod#simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon ghost x you#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost imagine#ghost riley#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#call of duty fanfic#simon riley fanfic#ghostsprincess
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
I need the bartender Simon having to escape upstairs for a few minutes just to control the monster in his pants just because of a more direct provocation from the reader
I was saving this ask and I think this is the perfect moment after Simon sees reader in his shirt, no?
Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, sex toy, pining, daydreaming about p in v sex
He doesn't dare go up to his room - even after the bar is closed, after you and Johnny are both gone, after his tasks are complete. His mind has been scrambled ever since you came down in his shirt, looking like you'd just woken up from having a nap in his bed. He knew that wasn't the case, but it was so easy to pretend. You made it easy, looking like wearing his shirt was just your typical Friday outfit. If he tried hard enough, sitting at the bar after hours, sipping on an Old Fashioned- he could imagine you were up there right now, lying stomach-first in his bed, wearing his shirt, with "LT RIELY" on your back - you weren't objective, he certainly doesn't think of you like that - but having his claim on you aroused the most primal part inside him. If only you could see what you've done. Did you even know it?
Price comes lumbering down the stairs. Simon doesn't bother to look at him; he sits at the bar, his Old Fashioned long gone, with an empty whiskey glass and the mostly-full bottle next to him. He was hoping to replace the thought of you with drinking, but he didn't have the stomach for it.
"I'm plannin' to see if Garrick wants to join the team." Price says, shrugging on his jacket. "I know he wanted to be his own man, but we could use him. Our girl's made this place quite popular."
Simon wants to spit out the words he'd just heard. Our girl. Whose girl? John's? Soap's? The entire pub? It was his name on your back. Not Price. Not MacTavish. He was the one you came to with all those receipts, numbers scribbled in the margins, trusting him to help you ward them off. Sure, you have fun with everyone, asking them all for help - but you go to him the most easily, whenever you need to feel safe. Bad customers, bad situations - you looked to him. Didn't that mean anything to Price?
He doesn't respond to his captain, choosing to stare at his empty glass instead. Price looks at him quizzically.
"Feelin' alright, there?"
Simon grunts. "Long day."
Price knows he's bullshitting him. He knows exactly what this is about. He sighs, pulling his beanie on and tucking the money pouch into his jacket. "If you want 'er, Simon, tell me to back off. Can't read your mind."
That has him pursing his lips, grip tight around the sides of his glass. He would have punched John, was he any other man. He knows exactly what Simon's thinking, yet he makes him work for it. Typical. His pride and his jealousy are fighting tooth and nail against each other, but he can barely say a word.
Price stands there a moment, waiting for Simon to speak - but he doesn't even spare the owner a glance. Bastard's always punishing himself... he thinks, sighing again.
"Bright and early tomorrow, lad." He says, heading towards the kitchen. "Lights off when you're done here." He knows Simon's capable of closing, but he repeats it every night regardless.
"Sir."
Price stops, halfway through the kitchen door. He looks at Simon, who's now staring directly back at him. There's a look in his face, something that reminds him of Ghost - the reason he became his right-hand man.
"Respectfully..." he says slowly. "Back off."
Price almost finds it comical. Like an animal staking its claim, staring at its rival - except they’re not rivals. The only reason Simon is bothering to play his captain's game, asking for permission to have what Price would happily hand over, is because he's his superior. Even if they're all retired from the SAS, no one ever really dropped the dynamics of the team.
He smiles, nodding his head once. "Understood." He says, shoving himself through the kitchen door. "But hurry up and say somethin' to 'er. I'm sick of you losing your mind during the rush."
With that, Simon hears him leave through the back door. He stays there for a moment, his mind reeling - he feels both satisfied and angry at the same time. It was a bit humiliating to tell Price to leave you for himself - you don't belong to him. But that was a problem he was going to fix. You had his name on your back-
For Christ’s sake, he’s got to give it a rest. You wore his shirt, that was all. You wore it – with no bra. Bare. Naked underneath the 141’s insignia, under his title.
And that damn bra is still in his room.
He can’t take it anymore. He unscrews the whiskey bottle and takes a few swigs, before slamming it back onto the bar top. He leaves the bottle and the glass there as he gets up, making his way across the floor, up the stairs, passing the office, and continuing up to his studio flat.
Nothing seems out of the ordinary. If you’d gone snooping, you either did a good job of hiding the evidence, or you didn’t really rifle through too much. His bed was untouched, his books and items where he had put them last – he goes into his drawers, checking to see if you had gone through anything other than his shirts. Considering everything is still where it should be, he assumed not. Though you did leave a mess in his shirt drawer – you’d been digging around in there until you found his old SAS shirt. Did you mean to do that? Were you looking for something with his name on it, just to drive him insane?
He goes back into his top drawer, muttering a curse as he pushes the contents aside. His cock is pulsing in his pants as he grabs his pocket pussy, slamming the drawer shut and heading towards his bed. He doesn't want to draw this one out - this is nothing more than a wank, just to get you out of his head. He sits at the foot of his bed and unbuttons his jeans, pulling his hard length out of his briefs – it bounces up and slaps against his abdomen, precum already smeared across the tip. He’s been hard for hours now, trying not to cum in his pants at the thought of your tits rubbing against the inside of his shirt. Do you have small, pebbly nipples? Or ones that are soft and pliant? He growls as he smears the tip of his cock against the lips of the toy, rubbing up and down the slit. He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You’re there, rubbing your lips on his cock, your hand wrapped tightly around his shaft as you stare up at him, licking and kissing his tip like a good girl…
He scowls and opens his eyes, sitting upright – he sees your bra hanging off the back of his chair, and he nearly passes out form how quickly the blood rushes to his cock. Pink lace, delicate and kinda skimpy… and your shirt, crumpled on the seat of the chair. You’d forgotten to shove them into your bag before you left. Or did you do this on purpose?
He's reaching out before he realizes it, slowly standing up and heading towards the chair. He wants to grab your bra, rub his cock in it until he stains it with his thick cum – but something in the back of his mind keeps him from touching it. One, it’s purely you, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. Two, he’s trying to cum. Not to cum to you. He’s doing this to get rid of your image in his head.
So, he goes for the next best thing. He grabs your shirt and sits back down on the edge of the bed. He lines himself up with his fleshlight and brings your shirt to his face; no wonder the drinks had turned it translucent, it was the thinnest fabric he had ever felt. Practically skin.
He presses it against his face and inhales: the scent of you, sweet, floral and spicy, fills his mind. It makes it all to easy to imagine that you’re sinking down onto his cock, and not that he’s stuffed it as far as he can into the toy. He groans, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pumps his hips once, then again… the tightness of the fleshlight slides over him easily, offering no resistance with the precum acting as a lube while he grinds up into it, heat knotting in his gut. The waist of his jeans hugs his thighs as he slowly and steadily pulses towards the ceiling, taking deep breaths of your scent.
He feels like an animal. Dirty, cheap, and desperate. He has to remind himself that it’s not about you, it’s about having a good wank and getting you out of his head. He drops your shirt on his chest and uses his free hand to cup his balls, groaning as he massages them. The schlick of the fleshlight around his dick is loud, the sensation borderline painful as he quickly fucks into it, curses spilling past his lips as he slams the thing down to the base of his length, catching on the Jacob’s ladder piercing on the underside, then back to the tip.
He shouldn’t, but he lets his mind slip elsewhere. What would you be doing? Would you have your hands on his chest, lips parted in a moan as you drop your hips onto his thighs, your cunt dripping and squeezing around his member…? What are you doing now? Are you still wearing his shirt? Are you lying back on your bed, playing with your breasts under the fabric and using your other hand to toy with your pussy? What do you sound like? Are you saying his name, or can you make any sound at all?
He falls back against the bed. “Fuck fuck fuck-“ he mumbles. He’s caught himself in a trap here – he can’t allow himself to indulge in the thought of you, begging him to take your hips and buck up into you – but it’s impossible to get you out of his head. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he’d be able to cum without you. He squeezes his fist around the fleshlight, groaning loudly from the pain, trying to drown out the sounds of your moans in his head… you’re always there, ever present, leaning over him and whimpering in his ear, need you, Simon, wanna cum on your cock, want it inside-
It's all too much for him, but not enough. He turns himself over, climbing up to his knees on the bed. He props himself up on his forearm, holding the fleshlight with his other hand as he ruts into it, stuffing his cock in as far as it will go, until the lips are smashed against the base. He pants and groans, mouth hanging open as he hovers over the bed; over you, holding one of your thighs up, touching his forehead against yours, watching as you’re covered in a layer of sweat, tits bouncing with each violent thrust of his hips. Both wrists secured above your head with one of his meaty hands, whimpers and whines spilling from your mouth as you struggle to remain coherent. Your cunt swallows him greedily, hugs him tightly, pulses around him, coaxes him to pound into you harder and harder, your walls twitching as slick gushes around him, your fingers digging into the back of his hand as you cry out his name, “Simon, Simon, Simon”-
He hisses through his teeth as his balls seize up, his abdomen going taut and his dick twitching in the toy. He rips the fleshlight off and grabs your shirt without a second thought, wrapping it tight around his cock and pumping it. “Gonna cum, gonna cum- fuck- oh, fuck-!” He mumbles to no one as his orgasm is ripped from him, hips canting repeatedly as cum spurts into the fabric of your shirt, leaking out around his thighs as he thrusts into it, thighs aching from the exertion. He bites into his hand and growls as he continues rutting, fighting through the overstimulation to chase what remains of his high – but he soon collapses on the bed, huffing and groaning into the mattress.
His orgasm fades slowly, his heart ramming against his ribcage and the fog clearing from his head. Realization sinks in as he’s hyper-aware of your shirt, still wrapped around his dick, now soaked in his cum. He'd have to wash it, now. Filthy doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels, but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He rolls onto his side, clutching your shirt in his hand. Fuck. One quick tug was all this was supposed to be, and now, he’s picturing you lying across from him. Face flushed, lips swollen and eyes hazy, smiling at him and panting. Telling him you love him. He’d say it back a million times. Listening as you breathe, as you talk about your silly little ideas for the pub, for redecorating his room… craving the moment where you drag yourself closer to him and snuggle into his chest for the rest of the night.
He hasn’t gotten rid of you, like he hoped for. He’s only made it more clear: he wants you. He wants his life to be threaded with yours, he wants to wake up next to you, he wants you to change his routine, to pick up his broken pieces and make a mosaic – and he wants to be there when you need someone, he wants to give you everything you want and more, whether that’s a life up in the clouds or down here, in his arms, in his small bed and lackluster apartment. You’d make it better; you’d make anything better.
He sighs, slowly sitting up and on the edge of the bed. Price was right – he’s got to hurry up and say something to you, or else he’ll be drowned in his obsession. You’d either agree to take this fucked-up giant on a date and end his misery, or you’d reject him, and he could force you from his thoughts and replace you with misery. It’s worked before.
He pulls off his jeans and shirt and grabs the fleshlight, standing with a grunt and walking into his bathroom. He’s planning to clean the toy, but if he waits long enough, he might just be fucking it again in the shower.
#bartender ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#ghost x you#ghost x reader#ghost#ghost cod#call of duty#cod x reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
You suspect that Simon might have a crush on you (much to your happiness). So you decide to harmlessly manipulate him into admitting it by asking him to set you up with one of his friends.
Note: fem!reader
main masterlist
—
r/advice
u/throwaway123:
How do I (F) subtly find out if my friend (M33) likes me?
Replies:
u/sudsysoap: there’s no need to be subtle. ask him to sleep with you lmao [+50, -10]
u/pricetag: agree with u/sudsysoap, men will sleep with anything as long as it has a hole [+30, -20]
u/log1cal: ask him to set you up with his friends. I did that and now we have 2 kids and a third one on the way. That prank will work wonders [+100, -7]
You had a feeling that Simon liked you. It felt obvious. He would walk by the street on the sidewalk to protect you, brought you deadbolts for your mangy apartment that you only live in for the cheap rent, would buy you groceries when you were too tired to leave your bed, and of course, would be very patient with you when you’d be feeling irritated.
Okay, maybe, he just treated you like how a best friend should but that still wouldn’t explain why he’d come to your apartment, in your crime ridden neighborhood and cuddle with you right after deployment. Not even bothering to shower before laying himself down on you like a starfish.
“I just want to feel warm.” Was his answer whenever you’d ask him why he did so.
You never complained though. Instead, you relished the feeling of his heavy and exhausted body against yours. Enjoying the almost territorial hold he had on you. Like most friendships, it was a symbiotic relationship.
You both never kept much from each other. Obviously there were many aspects of his job that you couldn’t ask about and you respected that.
However, you both had hidden feelings and neither of you wanted to put your cards on the table out of the fear of rejection.
You watched as the man scarfed down his Sunday breakfast- a sort of inside tradition where you’d both go to a cafe near your apartment and scarf down food. It always happened on the first Sunday after his return from deployment.
The words from that one Reddit comment lingered in your mind.
He felt your eyes on him from your end of the booth and placed his fork down, still in his grasp. “Somethin’ on my face?” His gruff voice asked. 
“No, I’m just wondering if they even fed you at all.”
He let out a sarcastic ‘ha’ and went back to eating. You were getting antsy to the point where you began to pick at your hash brown with your fork, the crisp golden patty crumbling with every poke.
You wanted to try the trick so bad.
But what if he doesn’t like you like that? What if he does end up setting you up with a man you aren’t interested in because you decided to be sly for a moment?
Fuck it. At least this would be the least explicit way.
“I’m so tired of being single.” You huffed as you leaned back into the leather cushioned booth. Simon did not give any sort of reaction. Instead he directed his attention to his coffee as he mixed it with some zero calorie sweetener.
“All the guys in this city are so weird. I’ve done everything to get a boyfriend.” You continued. Simon sipped his beverage and looked through the menu again (probably for a second helping of sausages).
Still no reaction. Sometimes you wondered how you even became friends with him.
“Wait, I know.”
His demeanor changed as his blue eyes flit to your figure. “You should set me up with one of your military friends.” You said as you smiled like a scientist who had just made a great discovery in his field.
Simon beckoned you over with his hand. Confused, you slid towards his end of the booth. “What?”
He lightly knocked on the top of your head like it was a door. “Thank God,” he muttered out.
“What was that for?” You replaced his hand with yours on your head, checking to see if he was trying to remove any lint.
“Tryin’ to check if your skull was hollow.”
“Fuck you, Simon. All I did was ask for a favor.”
The man folded his arms, biceps begging to be let out of the confinement of his sleeves. Your heart couldn’t help but beat a little faster at the sight.
“Is it because I’m not pretty?”
“Where’d that even come from? I-“
“So you agree that I’m not pretty.” You said before huffing and turning away from him.
“Oh my- fuck, just listen to me.”
You open your mouth to say more but you decide to give your friend a break.
He cleared his throat and turned your shoulders towards him. Your skin burned when his calloused palms situated themselves on you. “First of all, you’re not ugly. You’re basically out of their league.” You never understood why he couldn’t just compliment you like a normal person.
“Second, you deserve someone who will actually give you all their time. Something my military friends can’t do. You’re not going to be a priority.”
You felt like shrinking in your seat. His reasoning was ambiguous. You couldn’t tell if he was denying your request because he didn’t want your heart broken or because he actually liked you.
“Oh, okay.” You looked away from him in embarrassment. So much for miracles.
“Besides,”
He then went on to replace the deconstructed hash brown on your plate with his non battered one.
“You might find someone if you look hard enough.”
Your head perked up. Could he possibly be hinting at something?
“What do you mean?”
“Go out with me.” He didn’t beat around the bush this time. Went straight to the point.
“I don’t want you to date me out of pity, Simon.”
“It’s not pity. I like you.”
Oh.
OH.
You made a mental note to thank that one Reddit comment later. Trying your best not to smile, you let out a deep a breath before speaking. “Truth be told, I like you too. I don’t just let any man barge into my house and lay with me.”
“You’d better not.” Simon said as he pulled you into his side and then pushed your head close to his with his hand behind your neck.
“Been waitin’ for you to admit that,” he said before leaving a deep kiss on your mouth.
#cod x reader#cod mwii#cod mw3#ghost cod#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod#cod simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley cod#ghost x reader#ghost#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#ghost fluff#simon riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley x y/n#simon riley comfort#cod simon ghost riley#cod fluff
866 notes
·
View notes
Text
need simon to be retired and living in the middle of nowhere with a car-fixing hobby, and you're pulling into his 'shop' because you were road-tripping across the country and now some funky noises are happening underneath the hood.
you tentatively walk towards the open garage, only to spot him under some run-down vehicle that has more rust than sun-faded paint, deflated tires, and a license plate that's also got rust gnawing at the edges, the numbers on it barely discernable.
you rap your knuckles gently on the weathered car, and the wheels of the creeper he's on squeak in protest under him as he rolls out to look at you, filthy gloves smearing the dust on his brow instead of wiping it away.
"err, hi. uh, i was pointed this way by some lovely folk that work in that diner down the way, and they said that you could take a look at my car."
he rises smoothly, even though his joints pop as he does, dark eyes squinting against the sun. he towers over you with broad shoulders and thick arms. a tough-as-teak country man.
you start when he speaks, deep voice echoing off of dusty walls. "they said tha', did they?" he lifts the hem of his grease-stained wife beater to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead, and your gaze involuntarily wanders to the thick trail of coarse, dark hair under his navel.
"what's wrong with it?"
if you knew that, you wouldn't be here, blatantly ogling him in some decrepit workshop located in a sleepy corner of the countryside. "i don't know. it's making some scary popping noises and figured that it needed to be looked at, asap."
your grimace is involuntary when he extends an oil-streaked gloved hand. you really hope he's not expecting you to-
"keys."
right. you wordlessly hand them over and walk a few steps behind him as he heads toward the front of your car. "did ya get it looked at before your trip?"
you want to snap at him, that obviously you did. you may not be some car wizard, however, you can do the bare minimum for it but he's your only hope for getting the hell out of here, so you press your tongue against the back of your teeth for a moment before answering.
"yes. i did prepare for it. got new tires, an oil change, and anything else it may have needed."
he hums at your answer, a low sound in the back of his throat, and curls his fingers under the hood and begins to feel for the release. your mind is in the gutter as your eyes linger on his sun-kissed skin, watching the tendons on his inked forearm ripple with each movement.
your mind is snapped back to reality when he mutters, "i hope ya don't think i'm doin' this for free."
"wouldn't dream of it. you don't seem the charitable type."
the latch yields under his fingertips, and the hood springs open. "i'd say i'm pretty charitable, considerin' i'm even helpin' ya with this."
your eyebrows furrow, corners of your lips pulling downward. "what, were you closed or something?"
he gives you a small smirk while his hand searches for the prop rod inside the engine bay. "do i look like a business, sweetheart?"
embarrassment burns your cheeks, and your mouth gapes unprettily as you turn around to truly take in the place. past the grease-smeared floors, there's rust blooming on the only workbench in the garage, a single red toolbox resting on the ground. there's a car jack tossed in a corner, a vibrant blue cooler by the door, and a few firearms on pegboard shelves. it looks like a simple garage. a personal one.
"oh my god," you stammer, "i'm so sorry, i just- the townsfolk, they led me to believe that you're a mechanic." how bloody mortifying.
he ducks his head under the hood, bending at the waist to lean over the engine, eyes swiftly scanning the machinery. "it's a hobby. i fix my own vehicles... and now yours, i reckon."
eventually, he turns the car on and listens to the engine roar to life before it begins to pop, standing over the open hood with thinned lips and furrowed brows.
he tells you that he can fix it, it'll just take a bit for the part to get here, obviously, so he recommends staying at a rented cabin in town for a few days— maybe even a week— and he'll give you a ride over.
he gets you there in no time, unsurprising because he drove the motorcycle far too fast— illegal, really. he helps you off the bike, your clammy hand in his much bigger, roughened one.
you rip off his helmet, pushing it into his barrel chest. "please never drive me around that fast again." he gives you a couple of pats to the shoulder, chuckling under his breath.
"unless you're plannin' on walkin' to get your car back, i can't promise tha'."
grrrreat.
(the issue was the serpentine belt, it was slightly frayed but the man kept you around for 2.5 weeks under the excuse of something taking too long, or the car being under worse condition. maybe he charges you a kidney for fixing it, and since you can't obviously pay that ridiculous amt of money, he tells you to go on a date with him. gross. or maybe he's a sane man and he just sends you on your way in 2 days time. idk. installs a gps in your car? keepin' tabs on ya cuz he plans on passing by wherever you live by complete coincidence.)
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Welcome Home
You surprise Simon at the base instead of being at home. You also think about how far he has come to acceptance.
Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, fluff, dad!simon, angst, pregnancy
“I’ve fallen for it, I’ve fallen for it somehow.”
A/N: THE PART TWO DAD!SIMON FROM @ave661 IS KILLLINGGGG ME! Seriously chokehold she has me in ALL the time with her art. 😭
simon x reader guide
simon x reader family edition
You called Price beforehand, asked him if it was alright to surprise Simon. You wanted to show up at the base with your baby girl waiting for him. Like you always do. Thankfully and full heartedly he agreed, he even added that he is excited to see his niece. On the way to the base you felt excitement as you played music for both you and your baby.
Your baby gabbles as she plays with hanging baby toys on her car seat. Simon has been gone for a month, it has been so long and you were so excited. He missed having her first tooth, which he will be so excited to see.
Once you got you and your child out of the car you headed to the inside of the base. “141 will be landing in 5 minutes ma’am.” A man said guiding you to the tarmac. “Captain Price said to meet them there.”
You followed the solider to the direction of the tarmac. You knew very well where it was at, a year ago you were on the team for 141 but decided to retire once you found out you were pregnant. Memories littered the hallways as you held your baby close.
“No.” He mumbled as you both stood in your room. He didn’t move for a moment, you thought he was going to leave and not come back for hours. Simon doesn’t do well with emotions but the last couple of months, he has been able to open up more. Now this. You didn’t know how he was going to react let alone what he was going to do.
It was clear, two lines, one word, 6 tests. You and Simon have been in secret for 2 years, established a relationship in a year. You played with your hands as nerves started to kick in. “I thought you were on birth control.” Simon said looking up at you, his eyes only to be shown. The skull mask looking at you.
“I am.” You said your heart slowly hurting, you knew that he never wanted a kid. You knew of his past so this was a joke for the both of you. It was frowned upon when a lieutenant would be sleeping with their sergeant. Hell damn near court marshaled.
Simon looked back down at the tests. He can’t. He won’t. His mind racing a million miles an hour. How could he explain this one to Price? How could you hide a belly on the force? Is there a way for it to be a secret anymore? He cursed himself for loving the fact that he could breed you. It was a new found kink, with him thinking of his cum coating your walls. Simon never broadcast it to you. Telling you that seeing a belly got him feral, thinking about how your body would react to his gift. But…It’s just…is it too soon? Was he ready? Surely he couldn’t be.
“I can get…”
“No,” He cut you off before looking up at you. “This…Not that. ‘M,” his voice trailed. No abortion, he won’t put your body through hell just because both of you didn’t want to wrap it. “I just-I don’t know what to do.”
“I don’t either,” You whispered walking slowly up to him. “But we can figure this out?”
Simon nodded once still looking at the tests. You waited as he stood there and sighed. “We have to tell Price now.”
“Here is the tarmac,” The solider said breaking you from your thoughts. “It looks like they have just landed.”
You mumbled a thank you as soldiers came out one by one from the plane. All covered in dirt or blood, tired written on their faces. You frowned knowing that Simon felt the same, it couldn’t have gone the way it suppose to.
You smiled as you walked out watching Gaz come out first, happy surprise on his face. He looked to the side of him to see Soap, who smiled at you nodded. Price smiled, heading towards the direction you were before stopping. Simon, walked out last, almost stopped in his tracks.
Smile beaming on his face underneath the skull mask. His girls. He be-lined to you and your baby girl. His heart beating quickly, as excitement coursed through his veins.
Price stood as both of his teammates broke the news. He had his suspicions of them fucking around but not together. He itches his beard as your tears start to mellow out. Simon was not looking at him but folding his arms while leaning against the wall.
It was like two of his kids came home after school to get hounded at. It was amusing if Price wasn’t angry. Yes. He was at first, his lieutenant and his best sniper in a bit of a bind. She has to be discharged no way will Price NOR Simon let her go out in the field. Especially since they voiced they are keeping the kid.
“We keep it low,” Price finally spoke watched as both of you looked up. “We have to slowly discharge you, not try to have eyes on the situation until then. No missions for you.”
You nodded, first time every has he seen you so shy. Timid. Usually you had confidence written all over you. “Yes sir.” You mumbled looking away.
Price looked at Simon. “I want to have a discussion with you,” He looked at you as you stared at him. You both are young, younger than him anyway. He seen how Simon’s demeanor changed throughout the years when you came on the force. Of course no one else saw it, but Price did. He always knew. “Dismissed Sargent.”
Your baby squealed with delight as she bounced in your arms. “Da! Da!” She yelled as Simon walked over, having heads turn to see the little baby showed her excitement. Simon did take note that she knew who he was and in fact used ‘dada.’
Simon almost damn near sprinted as he walked up to both of you. You let him take your baby as he grabbed her, she screamed laughed, as he rose her to the air. Holding her sides gently but firm. She is so tiny compared to him, she kicked her feet softly in the air, laughing her little head off. Simon loves that sound, the sound of pure joy coming from her. To the point he didn’t give a damn who was around them. Simon was never a shower when it came to his private life, but when she was around wow, he would make sure everyone knew who she was.
Simon sat across the table from you, your bump more noticeable, 6 months to be exact. He still couldn’t believe that what was growing inside you was his. Part of him. Something that he would have never thought would be done. Or have. You have become more aware and accepting of having the child. Yet he still hasn’t.
“I know it will take time Si,” You said knowing always what he was thinking. Simon snapped his eyes up at you, he felt guilt for sure. You were just honorable discharged and he stayed in the force. “I can’t make you feel happy about this. But…But I know eventually you will.”
He didn’t believe you until one night he laid between your legs as you rubbed the back of his head. Simon chuckled lightly at the tv show you were both watching right when it happened,felt a small poke to his head, he froze, you felt him tense. “What…what that?”
You giggled lowly as you rubbed your belly. “It’s the baby,” He still didn’t move when he felt it again. “She moves a lot when you make any sort of noise.” Simon rose slightly, looking up at you, curiously. You grabbed his hand and placed it where she was. His eyes trained on his hand. “Say something.” You whispered.
Simon looked at you unsure before clearing his throat. “Uh, hello baby girl.” It took a second before he felt the bump move to his hand. A soft graze. He snapped his eyes up at you and tears brimming your eyes, nodding. Encouraging him to continue. Simon’s eyes started to water, everything hitting, even when she isn’t out here she was wanting him. Knowing that he is her dad. And she was his baby.
His hand rubbed your belly. “‘Ight ass kicker. I’m happy to hear ya too.”
“Hello my angels,” He said as slowly held her close to him. Her head cradled inside of his neck. Her hands gripping his uniform. He placed a hand on the back of her hand holding her close. You smiled as he placed his other gloved hand on your cheek. “Why ya ‘ere?”
“I couldn’t wait at home,” You stated as people passed the both of you. “She couldn’t either,” you bumped your shoulder against his. “Told you it was dada.” You teased talking about the last time you both were on the phone. Her screaming ‘da da da,’ knowing damn well it was her daddy on the phone. Simon would tease and say that she got your intelligence since she was only 5 months.
Simon chuckled rolling his eyes, turning his head as she rose from his shoulder. She started towards his skull mask gripping the bottom of it. “Not yet sweethear,’” he whispered gently grabbing her hands. “We are gonna debrief it shouldn’t take too long.”
“Lass,” You laughed as the scottish came up from behind Simon. Slapping his back. “Oh well hello little miss.” He scratched softly underneath her chin. She laughed again shaking her head as she clung onto her dad. “Yer playing hard to get now?” He teased and looked at you.
“Hey Johnny,” You laughed reaching for your baby. She came to you with ease, which you mentally sighed in relief, hoping that she wouldn’t ball her little eyes out when she watched her dad leave. “We will wait on the cafeteria.”
Simon placed his forehead against yours. “It will be quick.” He whispered.
You nodded as you watched them all file into the base. Your baby holding onto you cooing. “Why don’t you ever get that excited to see me,” You playfully glared poking her stomach. She giggled swatting your finger away. “Brat.” You laughed taking her and you to the cafeteria.
#Spotify#simon ghost riley#call of duty modern warfare#simon ‘ghost’ riley#simon riley#call of duty#call of duty mw2#ghost#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x f!reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x female reader#simon ghost riley x wife!reader#dad!simon ghost riley#dad!ghost#daddy!simon#dad!simon#literally being fed with this dad simon
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
I’ve thought of surrogate!reader with Ghoap but lately I’ve been obsessed with the thought of established Ghost/fem!reader with sperm donor!Johnny and it’s a whole new dynamic okay
Another month, another bunch of negative pregnancy tests. I can see you crying in the bathroom when Simon admits that he went and had himself tested even though you both promised not to, and he knows that he’s the one at fault. Sperm ain’t sperming. You’re not the broken one, he is.
Of course you don’t see it that way. But you finally decide to put away dreams of carrying a child of your own and instead start thinking of adoption.
All the people in your life are having children now—Gaz’s second daughter’s first birthday arrives and you’re surrounded by people politely (and not so politely) wondering when it will be your turn to have a baby. “Always asking you, but never asking me,” Ghost says dryly to make you feel better, hand on his stomach. “Maybe I want to carry the baby.”
Even Price has a child on the way—and Kate and her wife don’t want to adopt but they regularly foster. Everybody has kids in their lives.
Everybody except Johnny.
On the way home from the party Ghost brings it up—Johnny was real good playing with the kids. He’s a nice kind of guy. Good genes. Would you like to have his baby, you think? And what? It breaks your brain a little bit. But you can’t stop thinking about it. So one day Ghost has him over and the two guys go out into the yard and talk, and they’re out there for forever it feels like as you wash the same dish over and over again, watching them through the window above the sink, but then they come back and Johnny has agreed. It’s a yes. Anything for you and for his lieutenant. Ghost has saved his life enough times over in the past years; this is just one way that Johnny can pay him back.
At first you all keep it strictly above board. Johnny jerks off in the bathroom into a cup, hands off the specimen and disappears into your living room to let you and Ghost handle the insemination. Cheers.
Ghost doesn’t mean to make it sexy, gently spooning Johnny’s seed inside you—there’s just something taboo and dirty about it that sets you off. Ghost touches you so soft and gently, spreading your folds, playing with your clit, feeding the sperm into your hungry little cunt. And he makes you cum at the end because that wive’s tale is always at the back of his mind, that cumming helps with conception.
And it doesn’t work. The next month you’re devastated—and perhaps just as devastated as you is Johnny. It’s touching, almost endearing the way he takes it to heart so much, feeling like this failure was his own.
Ghost is the one who suggests that the three of you hadn’t done it right. It hadn’t been by the book. Sperm can’t live long outside the human body. The solution is simple: you and Johnny should have sex. You start stammering disapproval of the idea and have listed a whole host of reasons why it’s inappropriate when you notice Johnny’s silence. He’d do that for you. Wouldn’t be a hardship either; you’re a beautiful woman, he’s always thought so. Which is how you end up with your legs wrapped around Johnny’s waist while Ghost sits beside you in bed, reminding Johnny to make you cum. Because it helps.
And the next month, Simon and Johnny are both pacing holes in the floor outside the bathroom while you take your tests. When the door finally opens, you don’t need to say a word. The expression on your face says everything. It worked. You’re pregnant.
That should have been the last and only time Johnny fucked you with Ghost.
But it isn’t.
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Mmmmmmm loser!simon and short!reader size training mmmmm buying multiple dildos increasing in size in order to slowly train your inside to fit him in mmm maybe dedicating a day inserting the biggest one all day inside to prep and finally try to insert him inside that night mmm maybe loser!simon bursting out just from helping you to take the dildo out of you because it felt so warm and slick from you keeping it snug inside you the whole day and the moment the imagination of what if it was him instead being cockwarmed inside you that whole day- the thought alone made him went feral there and then mmm
hi, oh my god? [blows up]
CW: Fem!Reader, size difference, dildos, size training because Little Lieutenant Riley is big, Loser!Simon Riley is his own warning, oral and fingering (Fem!Receiving), spit
Loser!Simon Riley who desperately wants to be able to bully himself inside you. he doesn’t want to hurt you though, hates the thought of you being in discomfort or forcing yourself to take him. even though he’s tried oral and fingering you, slow, comfortable hours between your thighs, he always stops short of fully burying himself. he can’t, not when your eyebrows cinch and your breathing gets unsteady. he’ll always work you towards an orgasm for trying, you did so good for him, he doesn’t mind a handjob in return or finishing himself off if you’re tired. as much as he wants to feel you he won’t push you to take him
Loser!Simon Riley who buys a dildo for you, straight-faced when he presents it to you - ears flushing a little as he stares at you. he really just wanted you to feel good, he always does, and if he can’t work his cock into you then this will do. he didn’t expect to like it so much, cradling you against him while crooning praise, lips pressed to your forehead while he thrusts the silicone in and out of you. it’s nothing compared to what he’s working with, but watching you take it has him breathing heavily. the mixture of lube, slick, and spit coating the dildo has his attention, the way you cry out when he tilts it at a different angle. warm brown eyes watching the way your legs shake and spasm, making sure to bury the toy to the hilt when you orgasm
Loser!Simon Riley who comes home a week later with a new dildo. a little longer, a little more girth. “S’just a little bigger, yeah? You can handle it.”, he knows you can. he doesn’t mind starting off with his mouth and fingers, crooked nose brushing against your clit as he loses himself in your cunt. he starts you off with the first toy, quiet and patient as the fake tip runs along your slit. there’s something about watching you take it that makes him feel elated, shallow thrusts as he rocks the dildo into you. as much as you’re the one crying out and holding onto him, lost in the euphoria of him hitting all the right nerves, Simon’s sure he’s never been harder. especially when he switches to the new dildo, face flushed and straining against his boxers with how it easily slips into you. he holds you close, nosing at your neck as he picks up the pace, watching how it glides in and out of you
Loser!Simon Riley who’s fascinated watching you take larger dildos, thoughts running wild as he thinks about you taking a toy bigger than him. for now he’s content sitting between your legs, a hand pressing down over your tummy as he works his latest purchase into you. “Think you’ll take me t’night.”, voice gravelly as you whine, eyes glued to the way you’re stretching around the toy. as excited as he is with the thought of finally sliding into you, Simon’s more excited that you agreed to have this dildo in you for the day. he’d take it out if you asked, but he’s already trembling with the image in his mind. it plays out how he envisioned - watching your breath hitch as you try to sit down, the way your legs shake when you walk. it’s a long day, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment when he excuses himself to the bathroom after lunch. he barely managed to pull himself out of his boxers before drenching his hand in pearly cum
Loser!Simon Riley who’s fidgety when you both finally retire to your bedroom. still silent as ever, but he’s eyeing you, a slight twitch to his fingers. once you settle in bed he’s following you, pressing gentle kisses to your face as he shimmies your underwear down, soaked in the middle. he can’t help but trace the base of the toy, thumbs running over the slick silicone. there’s a perverse feeling in his chest when he inches it out, a pathetic whine resonating in his throat from how warm it is. he can’t help but toy with it, dumbly working it in and out of you as he watches it split you open. does he really need to replace it? it’s already made you feel so good, kept you full better than he’s ever done. he doesn’t even register how he’s grinding his hips against the sheets, too caught up in bullying the dildo back into you. he’s moving on autopilot, drools onto the cock in his hand before thrusting it back inside you. the only thing that makes him stop is his orgasm, eyes fluttering shut when you climax around the toy, his hips stuttering as he lowly moans
#guys… ough#loser!ghost#loser!simon riley#ghost#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost headcanons#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod#cod thoughts#cod smut#call of duty#hit post
650 notes
·
View notes
Text
Talismen: Beginnings
Nicky emerges with an arcane artifact after a bewildering trip through an impossible shop. In wishing his boyfriend was more confident in himself Nicky performs irrevocable and accidental magic upon the world, building his new form and dulling his mind.
And I'm back! Here's the first story of my planned CYOA series, a little long but I love how it turned out! I'll be posting the poll for Part two on Sunday, the 1st of December, the planned options are at the end of the story and it'll only last a day so if you want to take part be on the lookout! At any rate, hope you enjoy and happy to write for you once more! -Occam
It was barbarian weekend at the renaissance festival. Nicky was dressed as a wizard and his boyfriend, Simon, had long planned to go on theme and dress as a barbarian. Though as the day neared and Simon anxiously stared at his decidedly standard figure in the mirror, he instead opted to just throw on a cloak and call it a day. Arriving at the fair the pair, as expected of the theme, find themselves surrounded by burly men clad in kilts with faux fur draped atop chests beyond impressive.
Gawking at hot men is of course par for the course of this kinda event but Nicky can’t help but read the shame and embarrassment creeping into Simon’s expression as he takes in the festivities. When they eventually step into a tavern for a breather Nicky checks in, “Heyyy babe? Everything good? Seem kinda down-” Simon shakes his head and forces a smile, “Don’t worry about me B, I’m aces!” He tosses a wink out for good measure before pointedly changing the topic, “So what was it you said you’re looking to grab this year?”
Nicky narrows his eyes for half a moment wondering if he should push or challenge his clearly sulking boyfriend before deciding to let the sleeping dog lie for now, “Mmmm, I don’t know actually? Probably just an accessory for the costume? Oh! Or maybe some dice?” Simon’s expression changes into a more genuine smile as he grabs at Nicky’s arm and massages it, “Well here’s an idea. We’re right by the dice shop yeah? Howsabout we split up. I’ll grab us some beers and you go check out the offerings. Meet back here?”
Wordlessly agreeing, Nicky leans in for a kiss and relaxes at Simon seemingly perking up. Heading off with a nod, Nicky exits the tavern, preventing him from seeing his boyfriend’s facade fade once more as he contemplates getting a drink or two ahead of his partner before his return from the shops.
Under the impression that Simon has cheered back up, Nick is off to the races. Dice shop just across the way he begins his short trek when suddenly there’s a buzzing in the back of his mind. The sounds of the crowd around him eerily fade as if his ears are waterlogged, he shakes his head from the sudden discomfort and takes a moment to see if anyone else seems to be affected. Before he’s able to inspect his fellow festival-goers he is shocked to see a strange shop he’s never seen before.
Nestled in between a printing press and some soap store Nicky furrows his brow and wonders how he’s possibly missed the shop before now. He’s been coming for years and knows the layout of the festival like the back of his hand. After waiting a few seconds to see if anyone else is entering he takes a cautious step forward and trips as his body tries to take another without his intent. Nicky blushes as he bumps into a brawny barbarian who laughs him off and ruffles his hair, “Watch where yer -urp goin dude huhuh!” Nicky nods an apology and reflexively takes another backwards step towards the apparently new shop. In a sudden need for an expedited retreat from embarrassment, Nicky quickly rushes towards the door and away from the man bumped who eyes him taking a large swig from a tankard.
He hasn’t the chance to notice that each step towards the shop that should not be there is quicker than the one that came before. In no time at all he tears open the door and is inside the quaint cluttered shop. While his eyes adjust from the bright fall day behind him, he takes in the scene as well as he can. The small space is filled with some bitter herbal scent and the air seems to crackle with something similar to static. Nicky of course attributes the strange prickle on his skin to nerves and continues browsing the curious shop.
There’s no real discernible theme to the shop, really it seems to be more of an antique store than anything else. In any normal situation Nicky would have already dipped back out, but something in the back of his mind keeps pulling him in deeper. Walking past strange dolls and stranger bottled liquids, the almost ticklish sensation continues to assail him with unconscious step forward. His spacial awareness tells him he has wandered further than should be possible but it’s almost as if he has no option to continue forward. Coming up on a curtained doorway Nicky’s hands move as if possessed to part the blinds and his eyes finally lay upon what supernatural, impossible thing must be drawing him inward.
It would be the perfect accessory for his costume. It would be the perfect accessory to put on and never take off again. It will be perfect. It will be his. He needs it more than anything. His eyes shine with the ruby tinges reflecting off the talisman as he inches towards the pedestal it lies upon. His hand reaches towards the object of his desires and burns as the prickling sensation comes to a head. He grimaces as it turns to an almost boiling heat before his fingers touch it and the impossibly intense sensation instantly disappears. Nicky jumps due to the sudden almost atmospheric change and before recovering he almost has a heart attack as who must be the shopkeep shouts from behind him, “HELLO HELLO YOUNG NICHOLAS!”
Nicky scrambles to hide behind the pedestal and inspect the mystery man, his vision momentarily tinged scarlet. As the twinges of whatever static sensation filled him moments ago begin to fade totally, he finds himself suddenly able to realize how strange everything about this is. He gulps as he sees a man dressed as a campy wizard adjusting his glasses, “Well it seems you found what you were looking for eh old sport?” Nicky looks down at the still shimmering necklace in his hands, stuttering incoherently as his mind races to understand.
In the half second his eyes were off the wizardly shopkeep, the man has crept up behind once more. Now throwing an arm around Nicky he helps him to his feet and begins leading away from the curtained room, “Hup hup- Now you must be very careful with your words now young Nicholas. Do tell Simon I said hello hm?” Nicky again looks at the necklace in hand and, hanging to the rational world by a thread, inquires, “P- Pay? Did I pay for this?” The wizardly man laughs and pats him on the back, “Oh don’t you worry ah ha ha! Hah.” The wizardly man winks, though even doing so there is an after image of a red eye staring into and through Nicky. The younger man opens his mouth to question the clearly mystic magus of the artifact and his intentions though before he gets a chance the wizard shouts.
“Do have fun at the festival my boy!” with that he brusquely pushes Nicky forward and he finds himself outdoors by a printing press and soap shop. Fearful of turning around to see there is no store there Nicky looks down to find himself wearing the talisman. Grabbing at it he finds the same sensation that filled him minutes ago, though muted. Pleasant. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before he is again bumped into, this time by someone whose vision is clearly obscured by a mask, “Sho- Shorry!” Nicky sighs and apologizes, though the physical sensation and awkwardness brings him back to reality. Shaking off anxiety and pushing down whatever it is just happened he heads off to meet his boyfriend at the tavern.
Returning to find Simon housing his third ale, Nicky quickly downs his own to distract from the strange anxiety that remains persuasive in spite of their reunion. Wishing for distraction, it comes swiftly and in short order the pair are out and about enjoying all the festivities that the faire has to offer, various sloppy meats on a stick, bird shows and jesters, and a firework show to cap it all off. The day soars by in short order and Nicky, wanting to forget about his encounter in that place that wasn't, does just that with shocking, almost supernatural, ease. In fact anything Nicky seems to desire almost falls at his feet. With but an imperceptible red shine in his eyes Nicky finds himself wanting for nothing. The same could not be said for his boyfriend.
After sobering up, his dour jealousy for the superior male form returns and as much as Simon tries to hide it from Nicky, the long day has dulled his ability to disguise anything from his boyfriend. On the long walk back to the car Nicky initially avoids bringing it up, but after an eventful day of getting just about everything he desires, he can’t help but try and get to the root of Simon’s sour attitude. “Can you just tell me what’s up babe?” Groaning as he unlocks the car door the weary man answers, “It’s nothing Nick. I’m just- UGH! I wish I wasn’t so self-concious or had actually gone to the gym or-” turning to see Nicky’s puppy dog eyes for not realzing his discomfort Simon groans and apologies, “Don’t worry it’s fine, I um, I had fun!”
Mind flashing back to the barbarian costume that Simon ultimately decided not to wear, love for his boyfriend overwhelms him and he reaches out to hold his lover’s free hand. Hidden underneath his own cloak, Nicky’s talisman flashes red as the sticky staticky sensation returns stronger than it had been even in the shop. He doesn’t whisper or even coherently think the words as he immediately drifts off to sleep in the passenger seat, but the intention is more than enough for the die to be cast. I wish Nicky had more confidence. I wish he was less self-conscious. I wish he was proud of his body.
Subconscious wish made Nicky’s ruby red eyes remain closed as he falls into an incredibly deep sleep, leaving Simon alone with his thoughts. He squirms slightly behind the wheel as he suddenly feels warm. Mind too muddled to wallow he feels every inch of his body suddenly buzzing with energy, as if an espresso was being dripped into his veins. Looking at his sleeping boyfriend his thoughts shift immediately from self-criticism and body dysmorphia to a lustful, almost primal hunger for his mate. Nicky’s hand still burning hot on his own despite the blaring aircon, he fights the urge to bring the sleeping man’s hand to his cock as it begins to stir.
Before they’ve even left the parking lot Simon is overwhelmed with a lust for his partner stronger than anything he has felt in some time. Hitting the open road he chews his lip to distract from his cock doing its best to pop the seam in his pants, constantly he’s choking down horny grunts and groans to prevent the sleeping Nicky from waking up. Arriving at their shared home, he struggles to gracefully exit the car with his rod standing firmer than he assumed it could. Eventually making it out, he goes to pick up his still sleepy passenger.
With a great deal of effort, Simon successfully stills his hips and quiets his lusts to pick up his sleeping suitor. Baring the urges of his body he realizes that the task is far easier than it should be, Nicky’s not heavy but- Any further inquisition is stilled as he reflexively takes a deep breath of his sleeping lover and is promptly overwhelmed. Nicky’s floral shampoo and deodorant mix with b.o. from an unseasonably warm day in the sun and Simon doesn’t have the strength to quiet the grunt that erupts from him as his cock throbs and prods Nicky in the back.
Eyes blearily open as the sleeping wizard stirs and stretches in the arms of his lover. “Wha? Si?” The self-conscious Simon, embarrassed at waking up his boyfriend quickly puts him down. He blushes as Nicky steadies himself on his arms, still yawning he chastises his boyfriend for letting him fall asleep, “You didn’t *ahwn* didn haf to do tha babe, *awh*” Rubbing his ruby-tinged eyes he can’t quite make out the finer details of his boyfriend, but he would swear he’s looking further up than he usually does to make eye contact. Simon waves him off, “It’s fine, I’m not even tired really.”
Leaning down to give him a hug, Simon angles his head into Nicky’s nape he takes another deep breath, this time not even trying to mute the groan that spills forth, “MMmhm, y’know now that you’re up the night’s still young…” Nicky tilts his head before understanding as Simon’s cock throbs once more into his abdomen, shaking off the sleep Nicky’s own package begins to stir as he leads his partner into their home, “Well now that you mention it~”
Nicky starts disrobing when Simon grabs his hand, some small amount of discomfort hiding in his expression as he asks, “Would you mind if I, um, topped? This time?” Nicky tilts his head before nodding cheerily, “feeling frisky huh?” Nicky performatively poses before seemingly doing some mental math and continuing, “it’s been a minute haha! Let me just hop in the shower real quick and then we’ll have some fun!”
Already feeling like he’s overstepping Simon doesn’t mention his desire for Nicky to not shower. Something feral need within him forces forward an urge to tackle and fuck then and there but he pushes such thoughts down and waits as patiently as he can. Preparing to bottom on such a short notice, Nicky quickly strips and his eyes land upon the talisman hanging from his neck once more. Pursing his lips he goes to take the necklace off, though as his fingers clasp the chain he shivers as it sends a sensitive pang searing through him. Why would he take it off. Feeling immediately more alert and needy, Nicky swiftly hops in the shower to prepare for some fun.
Outside the bathroom his boyfriend taps his foot anxiously, sending a deep, impatient echo through the room. Irritated at the sound he stands and quickly disrobes himself. After getting the cloak off, the room is filled with slight groans of effort as he struggles to get off his shirt. It’s almost stuck to his skin? Probably from sweat he thinks but each time he wrenches it up it only frees about an inch more room. His irritation prevents him from noticing how it decidedly hugs new weight on his chest or cuts into apparently thicker biceps.
The sound of the shirt straining fills the room and he grinds his teeth as the prospect of being stuck in the top any longer is unbearable. His hands stretch longer and strain shifts to tearing as he rips the tunic off with a grunt. Exposed to the open air is a sweaty body far more impressive than when the man struggled to get ready that morning. Looking at the torn shirt in his hand he blushes as his eyes trail up his forearms and stare at a bicep that’s begging to be flexed.
Stepping out wearing only a towel and his talisman, Nicky smiles as he stares at Simon appreciating his arms, “Couldn’t have waited for me to put on the show huh?” Simon turns to see his boyfriend drop the towel and he loses control. Any sign of intelligence in his eyes vacates as he manhandles the man onto the bed. For his part Nicky assumes this to be roleplay, almost giggling from delight as the typically meek man ragdolls him onto the bed. Drool leaks from Simon's maw as he grunts and groans, struggling to free the throbbing package still trapped in his shorts.
Being straddled, Nick takes the chance to carefully observe his boyfriend’s body, appreciating the view that he seldom gets. For the life of him he doesn’t understand why Si got so worked up, with arms like that and a chest- or? When did he start working out actually? Nicky frees a hand to touch the man’s powerful torso and Simon shivers, reflexively rutting into him as his cock growing even harder sends the sound of fabric straining through the room. He’s decidedly firmer, heavier. Nicky sees hair begin to grow on the man’s chest and his mind for half a second hears the echoing laughter of a man he wished to forget. Though there’s no time to think as Simon goes for the tried and true method of just ripping his clothes off.
Eyes wide with wonder, Nicky watches as biceps bulge larger with each tug, shoulder span expanding as his hands yank and tear. His mouth falls open as he sees a cock clearly larger than the one that he knows Simon to have. Gulping as he realizes he’s agreed to take this dick that stretches up to his sternum, Nicky blushes and Simon smirks as he leans down to snarl or whisper something in his lover’s ear.
Nicky feels pre dripping onto his chest as the larger man leans down, his arms land to either side of the man exposing pits dripping with sweat and just before he speaks or growls, the talisman flashes red. Eyes focused on each other neither man sees some shard of light go from the charm into Simon. His eyes roll back and close before he falls down onto Nicky. Immediately concerned for his love, Nicky struggles to shift the man off him and call for help before he hears Simon begin to snore. His body feels like a furnace atop Nicky’s, a cock still erect continues to throb into his stomach and gush pre in between the two of them. He feels patches of hairs thicker than Simon typically carries scratching him. Nicky tries to force the sleeping oaf off him before quickly tuckering himself out.
It was a long day after all. Nicky yawns as he sees the back of the man lying atop him. It’s not right, too wide, too heavy. His ass is not that large his- ughh. With another shove to wake or move Simon, Nicky feels weariness truly overtake him and his scarlet eyes flutter. The sleeping man moves his arms to hug Nicky tight and the seemingly smaller man has no recourse but to give way, his sides tickled by patches of pit hair dripping with sweat. Nick’s head tips forward a few times as he struggles to stay awake though the sound of his lover’s new snores lull him to sleep.
In the morning Nicky wakes to find himself free from Simon’s grasp, though the man’s sweat stains leave a clear outline around him on the bed and his torso remains sticky from pre. His head aches with a hangover though after the faintest wish that it end, so it does. Groaning he gets to his feet and heads off to shower once more, en route he finds a note from Si: “heyyy babe woke up w so much energy!!! gonna go for a run or to the gym idk :) c u soon thooooo<3” Nicky rubs sleep from his eyes and reads the short note a few times over, “hmmm. Weird.” Shrugging he goes about his day as usual, cleaning up, brewing coffee, doing the crossword. Something in the back of his mind says he usually does this with Simon, but that can’t be right? He’d never want to do that. His eye twitches as unbeknownst to him, with each step further away his love has truly begun to change from his unintentional intentions into a man who will never feel shame again.
Simon doesn’t know why he feels so compelled to get up and at ‘em. For years he has given himself ultimatums, scheduled gym sessions, dieted and done his best, but there has not been a moment in his life where he has felt more drive, more purpose than his flight from their shared bed. It’s like he’s a new man with nothing on his mind but getting some meat on his bones. He barely had the wherewithal to leave a note for his lover, as is clear by the lack of eloquence.
Nor is that the only aspect askew from Simon’s typical self. As his anxiety at being perceived shirtless may suggest, the man is always conscious of how he looks. Rarely does a day go by without Simon giving himself a painstaking once over in front of the mirror, be it applying makeup or designing an outfit. To simply throw on a tshirt and leave without even rinsing his face is anathema, and yet after doing just that and throwing on his boyfriend’s sneakers, finding his own far too tight, he’s out the door well before the sun begins to rise.
His feet fall heavy on the sidewalk as his shabby outfit soon enough finds itself straining. Grimacing at the constriction it becomes clear that these clothes are far too tight and getting tighter with each step it seems. Nevertheless he presses onward until there is stinging pain from his feet struggling against their binds. While he’s been content to ignore or misinterpret the sounds of his own tshirt beginning to fray, as well as the pain that such constriction entails, he doesn’t want to ruin Nicky’s shoes. And so scrambling for somewhere to sit down he hops on a bench and begins to struggle with the laces.
Simon’s toes struggle against frontal fabric while the shoes’ tongues press into laces that simply must be cutting into the tops of his feet. Simon’s mind is clearly slowing down as he takes a few seconds too long to simply watch his feet expand beyond containment before, with a gasp, pain jogs him into action. At first he goes to untie them before he’s unable to recall precisely how to do that. Immediately switching to the task already begun by his growing feet he reaches in and simply tears each shoe in two.
His arms bulge with the effort involved in splitting them in twain, biceps that never were begin to appear and push his short sleeves to their limit as new muscle presses onto his chest. Looking down at his hands, decidedly more masc, the man can do nothing but observe his new form as it begins to extol an untenable price on his mind. With each new manly aspect so too will the cogs of his mind continue to slow.
Looking at his boyfriend's shredded shoes, Simon is immediately guilty though he releases a contented sigh as his feet flex free from their confines. His newly one track mind is then thrown off-course and his eyes narrow at the feet bare on cold concrete. They were not simply chafing or something reasonable of the sort, they are too big. They’re larger than his shoes and seem to still be growing larger. And wait- Why did he leave the house without wearing socks!?
Simon shakes his head to try and focus on one question at a time, though before peace comes there is a searing pain from his legs as his changes continue upward. Calves burst from his bony legs while athletic shorts are clearly strained by thighs that any man would kill for. Thick, perhaps barbarous, curls begin to issue forth from any pore exposed as he clutches with his newly thicker hands into muscle still hardening, still pumping larger.
Grunting loudly, Simon falls off the bench as ever spreading changes spread towards his glutes. His pert ass hardens and grows to a size that would attract attention no matter what he wears to try and hide it under. His whole lower body cramps with growth as his legs extend, wider feet scratching into dirt as calves and thighs lengthen while his pulse continues to race from the shock of this impossible transformation. Struggling with the new weight of self, his rougher hands pressed into the ground his duller mind is unable to reconcile what is happening to him with reality. The sound of blood rushing through his ears mutes the world around him and at the slightest lapse he simply forgets.
“Why am I on my hands?” Through bleary eyes he stares at hands too wide, fingers longer and thicker. He trails upward and almost scoffs as he sees forearms and biceps not nearly as defined as they should be, after another moment mouth agog he guffaws as he presumes to have put one and one together, “Oh ahuhuh- I must be workin’ out here?” Licking his lips as he is filled with an otherworldly surge of energy, Simon gets started following one of the most common impulses that is to evermore make itself at home in his mind. He starts doing some push ups.
Immediately do his biceps burn with effort as they put on weight at an impossible rate. Simon grunts with the effort of taking the wheel and commanding his body to be more powerful. His heart pounds in his chest as, just like every piece of fabric before, his shirt quickly gives way outright to the progress of growth. To the strengthening of self. With each dip towards the earth his pecs come closer to touching the cold soil before bouncing as his powerful arms rocket him back upwards with precision.
Simon continues exercising until his arms burn as numb as his new, slower mind. Not only does muscle continue to pack on with every punch upwards, but his impressive form is just as quickly patterned with burgeoning body hair. Sweat drips down onto a chest rapidly peppered with curls and steams off a back which holds hair slowly rising from his lightly furred ass. Sweaty steam trails upwards from widening shoulders and bulky traps into the cold autumn air as heavy breath mists from behind gnashing teeth. Nowhere does the hair grow thicker than under his powerful arms as a jungle of hair grows outward from his pits and sends distinct trails of sweat down his trunk like biceps and across his hulking pecs.
Body hair and brawn are not the only decidedly improved aspects of the man either. Just as he continues to pack on muscle with each thrust upwards, so too is his crotch pulled closer to the ground with every descent. His briefs struggle against a package rapidly growing beyond any tenable containment. Balls bulge larger to supply his impressive form with the hormones required for the growth he demands of it, pubes cascading upward and outward as they strive to assert that Simon’s masculinity shall never be in question.
So too does his cock throb and push against the confines of his underwear enough to be plainly visible. Not only from growing erect as his heart races, but from expanding to be the most impressive rod either he or his lover have ever seen. With the slightest glance down to see his new cock, he smirks and shivers as he imagines topping Nicky with that beast.
This of course sends such a powerful surge of lust through him that the bulging cock immediately bursts free from the briefs outright, leaving him clad in nothing. His cock, now free, drips pre onto the earth as he continues working out a few moments longer in the buff, plain for anyone to see were the streets not thankfully empty. Guffawing to himself after thrusting his new cock into the ground a few times in the process of pushing up, Simon’s new bovine mind eventually realizes he’s fully nude and public and quickly stumbles to his feet. “Oh shit huhuh-” He stands and scratches the back of his head and tries to plan some form of escape, in the process he flexes his bicep and can’t help but smirk as he sees the veins bulging along its impressive length.
Feeling his still turgid cock bounce with every slight movement, he continues laughing before looking down to see shredded clothes scattered at his colossal feet. Seeing the pile of clothes outgrown, Simon does everything short of drooling as he for the first time takes in his new form. Massive hands trail across padded muscle as the urgency of covering his dick fades from his mind.
When his sweaty pecs begin to glimmer from the rising sun he is immediately thrown back into awareness of his active criminal behavior. Checking the coast is clear once more, he pauses for a moment wondering what the big deal is about public nudity before being chastised by some internal Nicky. Simon turns back to the bench and laughs dumbly as he sees his gym bag lying discarded.
Pouncing like an animal, he quickly tears into and retrieves shorts that will surely leave nothing to the imagination. Nevertheless he throws them on and grimaces as they tightly hug his ass and package. Seeing shirts thrown to the side he scratches his face and his face quivers as he feels stubble grace it for the first time. He purses his lips just to feel a moustache scratch his nose and absolutely disregards the idea that he needs a shirt. Why would he cover up anything beyond what is necessary. Surely the world would be more than grateful at the chance to see his form he asserts, bouncing his pecs and chuckling as he does so.
Finding himself with nothing to do besides appreciate how built he truly is now, Simon uses his phone as a mirror to inspect every angle and uses whatever sparing space in his mind to keep track of the best ones. The massive man shivers as the sweaty steam rising from him briefly glimmers red, making it clear that Nicky’s will has been enacted on his lover and announcing the fulfillment of his will. Nevermore will he be self-conscious, quite the opposite in fact. As morning commuters begin their grind many offer a passing glance to the by all accounts himbo drooling at his own reflection, and never does one escape without receiving a wink or flex from the man.
When a pair of jocks eye him with jealousy on the way to class he holds back laughter, the idea that not twenty-four hours ago he was just like them, smaller even, is inconceivable to the new man. Though to be fair, much now lies beyond the realm of conceivability for the man. He thinks about offering some tips to the pair though refrains as something needles him far, far in the back of his simple mind. There was something he was supposed to do yeah?
Furrowing his brow in as deep a concentration as he can muster, Simon’s eyes close and his hands clench at his head as he tries to think. Laundry? Huhuh as if- Meal prep? Then why would he be out here? Simon starts groaning in frustration and tapping his larger, still bare, foot on the sidewalk. Ephemeral ideas he might have latched onto in a life before this one drift past before he gives up and sits down, crossing his arms. The bench creaks under his new weight as he almost petulantly reclines, head back and eyes blank.
Suddenly he jolts up and almost hits himself for not doing the obvious straight away. Obviously Nicky’ll know what to do! His clumsy hands struggle to get his phone from the pocket of his shorts and he smiles at the lock screen, a picture of Nicky being smothered by his massive arms. Simon then squints and bites his tongue in concentration as now even this requires some degree of effort. Quickly enough he dials up his beau and almost vibrates from the excitement of hearing his voice.
Back at home Nicky is playing a game though squeezes the phone in his headset as he sees Simon calling, “Hey baby? What’s up, early start today huh?” Would that he had a tail to wag, Simon laughs and answers, “ha uhhh, yeah somethin’ like that- uhhhhh. Yo did you uh, know what I was plannin’ on doing this morning?” Nicky tilts his head, for a moment he swears something is off with his boyfriend’s voice. Then his eyes go blank and his vision flickers red before, no it’s always been like that? Nicky swears something about his long hours at the gym over the years made him drop a few octaves but that’s neither here nor there.
Nicky shakes off this small stupor, “Yeah Si, you said you were going to the gym no?” an eye twitches, “y’know, like usual?” Excitement once more sets fire in Simon’s veins as he nods and laughs at himself for forgetting such a simple routine, “Ahhh what would I do without you babe huhuh!” He kisses his cellphone and winks at a woman walking her dog who was giving him a side-eye. “Well you have fun dude! Gonna go get a MASSIVE pump in!” Nicky wryly grins and rolls his eyes, “you too, you too b, see you later-” With that he gets back to the game, intentionally ignoring the crimson buzzing at the back of his mind as both men set off to tackle the obstacles of the day, totally unaware of the lives they are to unintentionally change evermore.
Poll Results:
Grow up you asshole: 36.1%
Getting flamed in game Nicky’s clapback teaches a gamer to be a real man (Bear/Dilf TF)
Man you always play him: 22%
Well intentioned words bring his gamer friend far closer in mind, body, and spirit to his favorite character- Fictional character TF
Sorry for the backwash: 21.2%
Accidentally sharing a drink causes his himbofication to spread
Let’s get pumped: 20.7%
Simon finds work as a personal trainer and is far more effective than he has any right to be
#male tf#muscle tf#mental change#dumber#reality change#hair growth#jockification#male transformation#masculinization#talismen
439 notes
·
View notes
Text
Good... Really? - Simon "Ghost" Riley x POC!GN Reader Drabble
Warnings: Angst, ANGST, Angst (comment about eating habits) Author Notes: I don't know where this came from so I do apologize for this. I have a part 2 in mind but I don't know when I'll write that so... yeeeeah. Edit: A Part 2 was in mind and now here
Imagine Simon "Ghost" Riley asks you, the temporary interpreter for the 141, on a date. Imagine how surprised you were when after the most recent briefing, this hunk of a man approaches you asking if you like Italian and free that same night for dinner. Imagine how nervous he is when he asks, eyes looking anywhere but you, hand fidgeting at his sides. It absolutely melted your heart to see the man that made your heart beat so fast that you might faint shy to talk to you.
So imagine your shock when you agree on said date and it's just... horrible.
Just imagine you walking in, seeing him at the booth and as you catch his eye, he immediately looks away. How when you approach the table, he stays seated and mumbles out a small hi. You assume it's just a cultural difference and quickly move past it.
Then later when you ask him about work, because well it seemed like the safest conversation starter, he snaps at you, saying "we're on a date, not on base. no work talk." While he may have a point, he didn't have to say it so coldly. You try to be cheeky and ask him what does he want to talk about, hoping to ease the tension. It doesn't. Instead, it makes it worse as he just looks down.
So you both sit in silence as you look at the menu. You try to make small talk and ask him what he was thinking of getting. He answers plainly and says a salad. A SALAD? He tells you he's trying to cut, but assures you that you don't have to be shy, he can tell you like to eat. Oh wow - that cut deep. You just nod and look back at the menu. Your appetite dies at that very moment. You consider leaving, but the waiter pops up, asking if the "lovely couple" was ready to order. Simon quickly places his order and glares at you, waiting for you to go. You're already here, might as well stick through it.
So after you order a small soup that Ghost felt so compelled to ask if you were sure you wanted something so small, you start fidgeting with the menu, wondering how long does it take to toss a salad and pour a bowl of soup.
Imagine your shock when Simon finally speaks and asks if you thought the weather was nice. You died a little inside. The weather, really? You answer with a yes and even start to share how you loved this time of year, because it's perfect for-- and his eyes are glazed over. Great, he's not listening. You go quiet. It seems like he comes back to and asks you to repeat yourself. You don't.
You both sit in silent for a bit. You're trying to get comfortable, but find that you can't. You can tell that he's feeling the tension as he takes in a deep breath and lays his arms on the table. You can't help but stare at his tattoos.
Without a second thought, you reach out and try to ask him a question about them. As your fingers graze his arm, he pulls back and hisses at you.
"Don't touch me!"
The entire restaurant goes quiet and stares at your Lieutenant cradling his arm as if you burned him. You quickly pull back and apologize. You've never seen anyone recoil so much by your touch. He looks around the room and realizes the commotion you/he caused and mutters out a simple, "it's fine."
Silence falls on the two you again.
Dinner finally gets here and you don't think you ever ate a bowl of soup so fast before in your life. However, you can't even celebrate your small achievement as when you look up, you see Simon's plate already empty.
You can't help but be confused. Why did Simon Riley invite you on this date if he so clearly doesn't want to be here?
And before you can stop yourself, you ask him why the sudden interest. You deserved to know.
But damn did you wish you didn't ask when he says,
"Johnny's been hounding me to ask you on a date so I finally did."
Oh.
He asked you after Johnny, the only person on this fucking base who's even aware of your little crush on Ghost, told him too. Wait, no, BEGGED him to.
You don't know how you did it, but you managed to not to explode right there on the spot.
Or how when the waiter comes by asking if the "lovely couple" wants desert, you politely decline and ask for the check.
Or when Simon says he'll pay, because Johnny told him he had to, you just nod instead of storming off?
You don't know how you held your head high at you walked out of that restaurant, knowing that Simon Riley wasn't even interested in you and probably felt like he had to go on a date with the boring interpreter that has a stupid crush on him.
So imagine your shock, when before you can rip Johnny to shreds, he tells you how Ghost thought the date went swimmingly and can't wait for the second date.
WHAT!?
Word Count: 880
Thanks for reading! — Folded’s Page Guide + Masterlist — Part 2
#cod angst#cod x poc!reader#cod fanfic#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader
408 notes
·
View notes
Text
Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Locked Out Pt. 2
Johnny drags you inside the station, ignoring the confused looks he gets from the other men inside. He walks you over to the oldest of them, a man with a beard sporting a hat, and introduces you.
“This is oor captain, Price,” Johnny says, his arm still over your shoulder. “Cap, bonnie ‘ere lost their keys doon th’ drain. Can we gi’ them a hand?”
“I’m sure Gary could get to them,” Price says, offering a warm smile and his hand to shake, which you do. “You rest here mux.” He turned to the couch where a man with dark, curly hair sat. “Kyle, keep our guest company, we’ll be back.” He pats Johnny on the shoulder and the two leave to find Gary and retrieve your keys.
Kyle stands from the couch and walks over. He’s handsome, pretty you think. He definitely knows it too as he catches you staring, giving you a smile. “Hungry?” he asks.
---
Simon emerged from the showers, wearing only a pair of sweatpants, his damp towel slung over his broad shoulders as his blond hair was still dripping wet. The station house was quiet. Johnny must still be out walking Riley.
A quiet laugh broke that silence though. One that made his stony heart skip a beat. Simon made his way towards the common area, finding the one thing he never expected. You.
Kyle was sitting with one arm on the couch behind you, the other on his leg. You hadn’t noticed Simon yet, too engrossed in Kyle’s story about the time Riley climbed into the open window of a cop car to get into a bag of treats the officer had hidden under his seat.
“So Riley was hanging halfway out this cop’s car, an’ Johnny’s trying to get him out before the cop gets back,” Kyle said. “Turns out, the cop had a bag of treats in the car. Found out when Simon called Riley over. Rascal had the bag hanging out his mouth.”
The sound of your laugh makes Simon’s heart race and he finds himself jealous of the way your fingers gently scratched behind Riley’s ear as the dog’s head lays in your lap.
Simon can’t help but stare. He’d always known how pretty you were, but seeing you here in the station.. He only wished he was the one you were sitting with. That he was the one making you laugh so easily.
“Bonnie! We got yer keys!” Johnny calls, coming up behind Simon.
Your head whips around, catching a glimpse of Simon as he turns on his heels and retreats deeper into the station.
---
In his room, Simon’s heart pounds in his chest. He runs a large hand through his blond hair, his mind racing. All he’d wanted these past few months was to know you better, though he’d never been able to bring himself to speak more than a few words to you. Never had he thought he’d see you in the firehouse, much less cozied up on their couch. What were you even doing here?
A knock on his door brought his answer. Simon quickly pulled on his privacy mask, some part of him hoping it was you. Instead he saw Johnny.
“Aye, Si, did ye see we git a guest?” Johnny asked with that cheeky grin of his. Ah. That was it. Johnny brought you here.
“I saw..” Simon said, keeping his voice measured despite his urge to to tear Johnny in half for getting up the nerve to talk to you before he could.
“Ye never told me tha’ wee thing wis so cuit,” Johnny pressed. “S’already git Kyle wrapped ‘round their wee finger.”
Simon’s dark eyes sharpened. Johnny always knew just how to get under his thick skin.
“Am sure they’d lek t’ see ye,” Johnny continued. “Looked a might fash when ye stormed off.”
“Didn’t ‘ave m’ mask,” Simon muttered. “Wasn’t expecting them..”
“Aye, ha t’ git Gary t’ rescue their keys,” Johnny explained. His blue eyes briefly looked Simon up and down. “Y’should say ‘ello. Am sure they’d lek t’ see ye.”
Johnny was dense but he wasn’t stupid. He knew Simon could get anyone he wanted, he had the looks to make just about anyone, including Johnny himself, melt. If only Simon had the confidence to actually talk to anyone.
When Simon didn’t budge, Johnny decided to push further. “Aye wis think’n, LT,” he started. “I might ask ‘em oot fer coffee.” Johnny shrugged as he watched Simon tense.
Simon shoved past Johnny, making his way to the common area again. Leaving Johnny grinning at his door.
---
“Coffee.”
Simon’s gruff voice startles you. You hadn’t seen him enter the room, much less hear him walk up behind where you were sitting on the couch.
You blink those pretty eyes up at him. “What?”
“With me.” He doesn’t seem to be asking by his tone, but his eyes are almost pleading.
“Uh.. sure,” you say, unable to keep the smile from your lips.
The tension in Simon’s shoulders melted away. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.
#141 firefighters#call of duty#cod#task force 141#tf 141#cod 141#141 x reader#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#john price#firefighter!john mactavish#firefighter!simon riley#firefighter!soap#firefighter!ghost#firefighter!john price#firefighter!kyle gaz garrick#firefighter!gaz#firefighter!141#firefighter!price#gary roach sanderson#gary sanderson#roach#firefighter!roach#firefighter!gary sanderson#simon ghost riley x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
a/n: (un)intentionally turning this into an ode to price, but who can blame me??! anyways, enjoy and yesssss, simon will suffer, you just wait :)
cw: angst, angst and some more angst
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5
you shouldn’t have come here.
how the hell could he?
your emotions felt like an inferno inside you, one that consumed you whole. it left behind nothing but a path of destruction; from every cell of your being, right to your heart. disbelief had turned to confusion, had turned to a pitiful sadness, had turned to hot burning anger. the cocktail of emotions stirring you on in your path.
where you were going you didn’t even know. nor did you know how far you had walked. your surroundings nothing but a blur of colours.
the never-ending cycle of scenario after scenario, thought after thought, made your mind spin.
a gruff laugh took you by surprise and strong arms wrapped around your waist. the soft summer breeze ebbed through your apartment. simon’s face pressed into your neck, so lovingly, so possessively. “so beautiful.” back then you had giggled, twisting around in his arms till you could look at him. your eyes getting lost in the endless depths of his. “i will keep you forever, luv”
now you were left with nothing but a cruel laugh that bubbled up in your throat. the sound that escaped a guttural, angry mess.
slowly your feet stopped moving in their tracks. exhaustion covering you like a heavy blanket. your breath heavy and strangled, as it escaped into the frozen air in tiny clouds.
for the first time since that fight - it felt so long ago now, decades, millennia - tears prickled your eyes. falling in fat drops down your cheeks and leaving burning paths behind.
your mind was spinning out of control, faster and faster. so much so that the approaching footsteps didn’t even register as a threat anymore.
a deep, rumbling voice cut through the noise.
your body went rigid, immediately turning to the source. you must have looked like a rabid animal, expression wild, eyes bloodshot.
“darlin'?” price's gentle voice disrupted the war in your mind.
you couldn't help the nasty snarl spreading over your features. what did he think he was doing here? following you? feeling sorry for you? now that his dear friend had ripped you to shreds in front of a whole crowd of people?
at the cruel reminder, a punishingly cold shame washed over you, the nasty feeling making your insides churn.
"go away, john." your angry words were broken up by the overbearing violence of a sob that rang through your whole body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.
you couldn't stand him seeing you like this. not after everything he already had to witness. none of them had cared enough to stop simon from this in the first place. so why would he suddenly develop sympathy for you? why would he care now?
"not much for taking orders, doll. but i’ll stand far enough back that you don’t feel like decking me", he teased, a soft smile pulling on his lips.
at first it didn't even register, though slowly but surely your eyes met his. the flicker of something more than endless sorrow spiking in your heart, bubbling up your throat and escaping as a honest to god laugh through your lips.
"that smile suits you much better, darling."
carefully, as if he was approaching a wild animal, price slowly stepped towards your cowering form. his hands slightly raised, as to appear as nonthreatening as he could be, this bear of a man, a captain in the fucking military. if you had a better sense of humour right then, you'd probably have laughed at the pure ridiculousness of it all. but you didn't. instead, your lips pulled down into a frown, and your eyes took price in warily.
"let's get you home, yea?" a cautious little smile played around price's lips as he regarded you. it almost felt like he saw right past your guarded edges, and somehow, that made it worse.
"why?"
your voice carried so much venom, you were surprised the man didn't just turn around and leave you alone in the dark.
"why the fuck are you even here?" the tone of your voice rose and rose, till you found yourself screaming at price. tears prickled your eyes, and your throat felt rough from all the emotions of the night.
"simon doesn't know what's good for him if it punched him in the face. doesn't mean you deserve this."
his serious eyes looked right into your soul, reaching in and seeing the deepest darkest depths. inside you were battling with yourself, unsure if you could handle someone so close to him comforting you. someone that shouldn't even be in your corner right now.
"let me at least take you home, darling. afterwards you never have to see me again, if that’s what you want."
you couldn't even begin to untangle the weight behind those words. this lifeline wasn't meant to be there, it wasn't meant for you.
but you'd be damned if you wouldn't take it.
ever so slowly and carefully price reached out his hand in invitation.
and for the first time, you reached back.
taglist: @rafaelacallinybbay @fruitymoonbeams-blog @jdeclerc @valuyhh
#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#ghost x you#captain john price x you#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#john price x you#ghost#price#cw: angst#✧・゚⊹ astra writes 📖
299 notes
·
View notes
Text
idk how i feel abt this but o well :)
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ MDNI 18+ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
bodyguard!Simon is a watchful man. his eyes never leave you, no matter where you are. your father trusted him with you, hence why he hired the best of the best. he knew nothing could ever happen to you.
you can be a bit much for simon sometimes, but he never minds. when you're drunk, you get a bit handsy, doing your best to seduce to mysterious man tasks to keep you alive and well.
"simon, c'mon, look at me!" you slur and gesture to yourself as you stumble your way to your front door. "you're telling me you don't want a slice of heaven?"
simon just snickers as he unlocks the front door, moving out of the way to let you in. "you're drunk, sweetheart."
"but i know what i want." you giggle and walk into the threshold of your shared space. you sit on the couch and spread your legs for the man in front of you, biting the tip of your finger.
"i want you, si." you run your hands along your inner thighs, the alcohol spiking your confidence. simon inhales deeply through his nose at the sight of you. you face is flushed from the liquor and your legs agape, presenting your lacy black panties under your dress. he could feel his cock harden at the thought of what he could do to you right now. but she's drunk and your boss's daughter, nonetheless, the thought to himself.
"there is nothing more i would want to spend my saturday night, buried deep inside you, but you're not in a state i want you in, doll." he admits to you, likely because he knew you'd forget the next day. "and, you father would gut me."
you whine, your libido failing to settle down. "please, simon, i'm aware of my surroundings." your hands trail to your underwear, slowly and gently rubbing through the thin fabric.
simon sighs and ignores the tightness in his jeans. "c'mon, love, 's time for bed, yeah? we can talk it over tomorrow." he reaches his hand out to you for you to take, blatantly ignoring your actions. you groan and stand from your position, taking his big hand.
"yeah, sure we will." you mumble as you let simon lead you to your bedroom. as soon as you get into your room, you drop your dress and turn to look at the man behind you.
"last chance, si. you could have me right here, right now." you place your hands on your hips and wait for an answer from him. simon sighs once more and take your door knob in his hand, slowly closing the door, mumbling a short goodnight.
as fast as the man could get to his room, he was already removing him jeans and underwear, his hard dick red and aggravated. he shouldn't be lusting over you, especially when you're intoxicated, but he just can't help himself.
simon wrapped his hand around his shaft, squeezing gently and stroking slowly as if trying to torture himself for the reasoning behind his actions. his breathing picks up as he leans against his closed door, his hand never feeling like enough. the images of you splayed on the couch for him, running your hands over yourself. you dropping your dress to show you in all of your glory, your nipples hard from the contact of the ac.
simon moans as he imagines himself to be the one rubbing your thighs and pussy through your panties. he imagines running his tongue along your slit and teasing your clit with small licks and sucks. he wants to hear you moan his name over and over again, bucking your hips into his hot, wet mouth while gripping onto his slightly overgrown hair.
he pumps to the thought of slapping his cock against your sopping and swollen pussy after cumming for him however many times he decides to make you. he wants to wrap his hand around your throat while fucking into you mercilessly, leaving fingerprints on your thighs and hips.
with a few more fast pumps and groans, simon explodes, his cum shooting up and onto his stomach, wishing it were inside of you instead, coating your walls and pussy in the thick pearls.
it's a shame simon practically needs you, but he knows he can't. he just has to settle for 'accidental' walks ins when you're getting out of the shower or listening in on the sweet sounds of your self pleasure.
#call of duty#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost riley#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader
883 notes
·
View notes
Text
older!simon 'ghost' riley x inexperienced!girly!younger!reader where there's a size difference and u two finally have sex..
(pt 2 to this)
warnings: size difference (simon is 6'10 in this hehe reader is a good amount shorter and smaller than that), fem!reader, afab!reader, nicknames, penetrative sex, cowgirl sex position, p0rn without plot basically, some ddlg usage, reader calls simon 'daddy' a few times, talks of oral sex (fem receiving), age gap (about 10 years but READER IS LEGAL) , fluffy type of smut, dirty things beware >.<
note: this is more of a blurb n less of a full fic but hope u enjoy!! more stuff is comin out with simon n konig !! my requests r open so feel free to send any ideas there ALSO I KINDA HATE THIS BUT whatever<3
૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
your brain already was coaxed into a mush after your first orgasm where your boyfriend sucked and rubbed on your engorged button until you were squealing and seeing stars.
now, you sat on ghost's hardened cock, ur wet cunny dripping onto it which made his light pink tip twitch with hunger.
"remember, bunny," he had whispered as he moved your pliable body to your current position. "we'll just go slow, mkay?" his gruff voiced cause ur skin to prickle with goosebumps as you nodded, your mind not all there after your numbing climax.
u absent-mindedly rubbed ur sopping, hot cunt on his erect cock, bitting ur lower lip and closing your eyes. you accidentally tuned simon's words out--hyper fixating on the pulsing that pounded between the apex of your pudgy thighs.
your toes curled in your thigh-highs as you stabeled yourself on your boyfriend's large tattooed, scarred chest.
your hole clenched around nothing as your needy cunt dragged its swollen lips and engorged button on simon's length. you were so, so gone until--
"baby," ghost hissed gently, stilling your movement on him with his large hands. "'m talkin' to ya..did y' hear what i said?"
u whined softly, a quiet protest to him stopping you from pleasure.
he kissed your pouted lips, taking one of his hands off of you to wrap his inked, muscled bicep around your body as you replied back with a shy and squeaky, "..no.."
a deep rumble in his chest from his short chuckle made the blush on your face deepen.
"was just sayin' that if it gets ta be too much for ya we can try again later, mkay?" his voice was so incredibly gentle and soft that you weren't sure if you wanted to cry or cream (lol). instead, you sighed dreamily, chewing on the fat of your swollen lower lip as you admired him. the scar at the corner of his mouth that made his smile more prominant. his blonde hair that was almost a darker brown. the tattoos that inked his body. his plump, pink lips--dark eyes and strong jaw and nose. the stubble on his jaw. you absent-mindedly played with his hair (eyes almost in the shape of cartoon-hearts if it were possible), and you could feel the way he leaned into your hand abit as his fingertips gently ran along your spine, soothing your desperate trembling. you finally nodded to his question, your chest pressing against his tattooed and scarred one. god, he was so strong and warm. "mk daddy.." you whispered, and that was a tell-tale sign for simon that you were already gone. he smiled softly, gently squishing your cheeks to create a pout, inked hand--bringing your lips closer to his.
"gonna be gentle with ya, but you hafta trust me, okay bunny? love y' so much." he murmured against your lips, his own hunger for you growing to a dangerous rate as you kitten-licked inside of his mouth. you nodded, your voice high as you whispered a mushy little, "mk. trust you, si.. lub u too.." against his mouth.
simon made his way from your soft lips down to pepper light kisses on your collar bones as his large palms held your body so nicely.
he leaned back a bit, your lips attached to his as he held your hips; lifting your lower body up a bit as you grinded gently on him like a kitty in heat.
to allow himself to adjust his cock with your sloppy hole, he lifted your hips up a bit more, and in your floaty state you could not help but grind against nothing--desperate whines and mewls escaping your kiss-bruised lips. simon meanly chuckled, his cock throbbing as he instructed you to sit up a bit.
"daddy, 'm achey.." you sniffled, pouting. simon's left hand massaged your side as he stroked his cock three times before bringing you forward briefly to plant a kiss on your lips.
"i know sweet girl, gonna make ya feel better, m'okay?"
you nodded sitting up a bit so he could line his tip up with your messy cunt.
he rubbed his hand over your right nipple, squeezing the fat of your tit as your hands groped from his chest to his hand, to his tattooed forearm.
he could feel the heat coming off of your cunt, and he tried not to lose it and immediately pummel his cock into you.
you were just so delicate.
he would never want to hurt you.
"alrigh' slowly.." his voice sounded so soft and grumbly, it made you want to rub your button against him until you saw stars. but you had to focus.
you began to sink down, simon holding you up as you whined. a bulge already forming in your belly as you whimpered at the ungodly stretch.
your boyfriend sat up, taking your lips in his for sloppy kiss before you interrupted it with a small little squeak, "a-ah!" eyebrows pulled upwards as you cried. he kissed your lips slowly but hungrily--as if trying to eat you whole.
his big hands held your hips and waist, stopping you for a moment so you could take a breath.
"shh, slower, bunny, sink d-down slower," you began to sink down again, slower this time as you took all of him. "good girl, bunny. tight cunny takin' me s-so well.."
#ghost cod#simon riley#simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#coquette#simon riley x innocent!reader#older!simon riley x reader#older!simon riley#older!ghost#older!ghost x reader#girly!reader#inexperienced!reader#simon riley x inexperienced!reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Home And More
hiii my back is killing me but horny for simon NEVER stops!!! afab but gender neutral reader, consentual somnophilia, simon eats u out whilst u sleep bc he wants u that bad, simon cums in his pants from eating u out
Ghost was always there for you.
He lived up to his namesake in that regard, always spotted in the corner of your eyesite, most of the time gone by the time moved to greet him, or ask what he was up to during some rather strange times you caught him watching.
He protected you, kept an eye on you best he could, wanted to keep you safe.
He knew you didn't need it, knew as a fellow member of 141 that you could easily protect yourself, he trusted you more than he trusted himself sometimes, but you two were close. Not in the same way the rest of 141 was, despite how strong your relationship was with them, it was different with Ghost. It was more.
Whilst neither of you outright defined your relationship, never had the time to go on proper dates or spend as much time together as you wanted, it was obvious to everyone, including yourselves, that you loved each other more than life itself. The situations you both often found yourselves in caused your relationship to blossom much quicker than would be considered usual, but nothing about your relationship was usual.
Long nights of watch often lead to keeping each other company as you cleaned your weapons, sitting together in a comfortable silence and just existing together. To him, it was the little things about you that he craved, the happiness in stolen moments together, even in the worst of situations. It was comfortable with you, even after days of fighting, after having to shield every emotion behind getting the job done efficiently, prioritising anything but yourselves.
It was these times spent together that led to Simon longing for you when apart, the silence away from you almost unbearable. It was the same as it always was, even when you were there the silence was the same, but to him it was a stark difference. Your missing presence was notable, it left him on edge and more snappy than his normal, usually friendly jabs. Fingers twitching often like he wanted to hold something, wanted to reach out and grab.
It was this pining, the want in his chest that lasted the entire mission, that led him to your room, quickened steps uncaring of the time of night, of the fact anyone of sound might would be asleep right now. Not Simon, however, not when he spent the last weeks aching to touch you, the time alone on watch usually spent by your side instead spent humping his fist, nothing being enough without your touch, your voice right beside his ear.
The way he slammed your door open he was surprised you didn't wake up immediately, the desperation causing him to use a little too much force, if the walls weren't as sturdy as they were, he was sure the door handle would have left a sizable indent in the wall behind. He just couldn't help himself, not when you were finally in his reach, finally before him, finally able to feel you again, properly.
The scent of you, your room full of everything you, was enough to make Simon shiver, hands almost shaking as he removed the blanket from your sleeping form and grabbed your hips, dropping to his knees and pulling you towards him. He knew you were okay with this, heard your voice telling him to just take you whenever, you really wouldn't mind, not when it's him, not when you've missed him just as much as he's missed you. Any touch from him is a blessing, waking up to him is an honour.
He made quick work of your shorts, your underwear alongside them, almost groaning when he could finally see all of you, finally see the hole he'd been desperate to fuck the entire time he was away from you. His hand never compared to being buried deep inside of you, how tight you were, how you would whine his name and beg for more. Shoving the mask off of his face, the balaclava up above his nose, he spread you apart with his thumbs and let a low hum at the sight, how absolutely delicious you looked.
He missed this. Missed seeing so needy for him, even unconsciously, he loved knowing that you needed him as much as he felt like he needed you.
It was easy for him to lean down, press a soft kiss against your clit, before absolutely devouring you.
It was your own loud, depraved whine that woke you up, your thighs tensing around Simon's head and hand immediately going to push him away.
"Don't," Simon all but growled at your attempt, flattening his tongue to lick from hole to clit. His voice was so deep, so gravelly, you couldn't help the whine that escaped.
You went slack against the bed, the hand in the top of his mask only tightening, no longer pushing him away but pulling him against you, thighs tense on either side of his head.
"Sweet thing," Simon's voice was low, a quiet whimper. "Sorry for wakin' you, just needed your cunt too badly."
"It's- okay!" Your voice was all whines at this point, high pitched and needy. Even when trying to reassure him, he didn't pause for even a minute. Even when you were trying to tell him you didn't mind, that he could spit in your mouth and use you so that he gets off, you wouldn't care at all, so long as he feels good.
Sleep still clouded your mind, still covered your thoughts in a blanket of grogginess, but the pleasure Simon gave you was red-hot, almost blinding. It was hard to even think when he was this close, this determined to bring you to the peak of your pleasure over and over, as much as his energy drained body would allow.
"Simon," You whined, and you could feel him grin against you, could feel the low groan he let out at you simply moaning his name at his actions. He really was pent up, if just your voice and taste was getting to him that much, and he thanked whatever God was out there that you were too tired to focus on anything, you weren't able to see how he was humping the air.
"S'okay, love, just stay still, yeah?" Voice slightly muffled, unable to pull away even to respond. "I'll take good care of you…"
He touched you, ate you, like a man starved. And he was. He missed your taste so much, missed feeling you tremble on his tongue. He would happily spend hours between your thighs, devouring you whole.
"Needy cunt just wanted attention, who am I to deny my sweet little thing?"
Suckling your clit into his mouth, it wasn't hard for him to move his fingers to your hole, for him to press inside, very little resistance as a result of his tongue and how much your pussy was practically drooling against him.
Your hands were tight in his hair, the balaclava pushed off due to your grip, your desperation to touch him, your Simon, not any mask or material.
"S'too much, please-!"
"You can take it," He muttered against you, eyes lidded and watching, tone almost stern. "You're always so good for me, always so sweet… you can take anything I give you, pretty thing."
His lips and tongue on your clit, fingers pressed deep inside, the fact he was finally here, in your bed like you dreamed of him being, was all so overwhelming. It didn't take long for you to reach your peak, not when you've been waiting for this since the moment he left, been waiting for his touch since the last time you felt it.
The hands in his hair tightened, your voice raising an octave as you moaned his name, and if Simon wasn't as strong as you knew he was, you would be worried at how tightly your thighs were around his head. You knew he didn't care, knew he welcomed anything that meant you were as close as possible, loved when rode his face and used him for your own pleasure, as you were doing now, bucking against him and holding him close.
The groan he let's out is low, needy, and if you weren't as overwhelmed as you were, completely out of it with white hot pleasure, you would have teased him for how much it sounded like a whine.
It quickly became too much, hand still holding his hair tight moving to push him away, move him away from your incredibly sensitive cunt.
The grin he gave you was devilish, devious as he moved up from his knees to kiss you, to press his lips against yours and consume you whole, based on how desperate he seemed.
"Simon," You muttered into the kiss, breathing slowly and heavily. You had missed him so much, missed feeling him against you, it was such a blessing to have him back.
"Gimme a minute," Your voice was low as you pulled away, moving to instead trail kisses down his cheek, his jaw. "You can do whatever you want to me."
"No need," he spoke quietly, slowly, like he was ashamed. You would be worried if it wasn't for the flush on his cheeks, the way he narrowly avoided your eyes and refused to look at you. "I'm uh... I'm good."
Simon, the insatiable man that he was, refusing something like this? You moved one hand to hold his jaw, pulling back with narrowed eyes. He still refused to look at you, and when he moved his hips away, you realised what happened.
Simon came in his pants from eating you out.
The grin that spread across your face was quick, bright, and it only made the flush on his face worse.
"Simon!" You whispered, grin bright and tone full of fake shock, "Really?"
"Don't," He groaned against you, hiding his face in your shoulders. "Seriously. Don't you dare. Fuckin' embarrassing."
You quickly moved to press another kiss on his lips, full of love and utter adoration. You knew what he was like, knew how easily he could turn against himself, feel bad about the smallest of things that didn't truly matter. It was easy for him to put walls back up, to pull away and retreat back into himself, and you wouldn't let that happen.
"You're so fucking hot," You muttered into the kiss, gently biting into his lower lip. "Jesus, Simon, really? God, I can't believe you're this hot,"
The low noise he let into the kiss made everything worth it. The time away, the time spent missing him, it didn't matter when he was here, finally.
Simon was home, back with you, where he belonged.
#simon riley#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#ghost smut#ghost x reader#cod x reader#cod smut#call of duty x reader#call of duty smut#modern warfare smut#modern warfare x reader#modern warfare 2#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2
3K notes
·
View notes