#simon Riley x you

[succubusvalentine]

Part two of Simon Riley with a user who kidnaps herself. CW: Cunnilingus, Somnophilia, PiV, they're both a bit crazy, brief mention of blood (in a ring) part one here if you missed it!

Simon was currently stood over his bed. Staring at you. Under his covers.

You smelled so good too. Simon didn't want to get in bed and disrupt the scent of you with his own. He'd never forgive himself.

It was strange. Simon thought that if you found out he was stalking you, you would scream, call the cops, anything but this.

Maybe you were as crazy as he was. A thought that both terrified and excited Simon. Although the excitement definitely weighed out.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Simon merely watched you as days went by. He watched you eat, watch tv, sleep, bathe. And it didn't creep you out in the slightest.

You knew there was always an adjustment period when two people moved in together. So you let him watch you. He was like a wary cat. It was rather cute.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"You can get in bed, you know" you hum tiredly one night. Opening your eyes and looking up at the behemoth of a man that would have terrified anyone else if they saw him watching them sleep.

"Don't want to make the bed smell like me when it smells like you"

"If you cuddle me you'd be close enough to smell me really good"

Simon stared. Brows furrowing in thought. Before he gives in.

Simon awkwardly slid into the bed next to you, tensing slightly when you grabbed his arms and wrapped them around your waist.

But as soon as Simon seemed to understand that he was touching you and you wanted him to keep touching you, he grabbed the backs of your thighs, pulling you flush against him with your legs around his thick waist so he could bury his face into your chest.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

After that, Simon could barely keep his hands off you. As soon he got home from base, he would find you somewhere in his home and wrap his arms around you. Refusing to let go for at least ten minutes.

He also gave you the best head you'd ever received. Definitely a bonus.

Every guy you'd been with before Simon, treated the act like a chore. Lazily licking you until raising their head and asking if you'd finished yet.

Simon though? He does it for his own pleasure.

Simon will find you wherever you're lazing about the house. Drop to his knees. And go to town.

Sucking on your clit until your legs shook, moving his head down to lick the wet slick coming from your hole. The first time he shoved his tongue in your hole to taste more of you? You nearly screamed as you came unexpectedly.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

And the way Simon fucks? You could barely think a coherent thought afterwards.

Sure, the first time you two fucked Simon came almost as soon as he thrust into you. But you couldn't blame him. He was fucking the woman he'd been stalking for over a year. He was bound to get overwhelmed.

Now though, Simon could fuck you for multiple rounds. There'd been times you had to call out of work because you either couldn't walk, or your body was so exhausted afterwards.

And after telling Simon it was okay to fuck you while you were asleep? He was even worse. The amount of times you woke up to Simon fucking into you while cuddling you and drooling into your shoulder was immense. But you loved it.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Simon's favourite part of you being his sweet little stalker, was that sometimes he would tell you he's going out. And then he would see you in the corner of his eye.

But Simon's favouritest part of his favourite part, was when he would go out with his team, and they'd point it out. Unfortunately it only happened a few times. The team getting used to seeing you watching Simon from afar. But whenever Simon noticed you, he got the stupidest smile on his face. Knowing he was definitely going to marry you. Propose to you with a ring where the gemstone was made of his own blood.

"tha' lass been followin' us bar tae bar all nigh'" Soap muttered. The rest of the team being concerned.

"Yeah" Simon grinned dumbly "she's the best ain't she?"

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Simon was just over the moon that you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you. And you moving into his home unannounced had to be the most romantic thing Simon had ever experienced in his life. You were perfect for him.

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

Tag list ~ @thefutureastronaut @illyanam1011 @likewhyareyousoobsessedwith-blog @hbaasaad @idknowwhattdowhitmylife @maybe-a-bi-witch @thatpersonnamedrook @miss-chanandler-bong @nicki-lovesolderfictionalmen @baduzzxy @skeletonsucker @drewsuncrustables @milanriol @aceywaycy @jooba @morallygrayboys @logansblackgf @dreamland08 @nicolebarnes @spacecola7 @teapartydreams @callsignao3 @garejuremuzum @laduenadelswing @xxkay15xx @simonsslut @princessbitchybucket @unclearblur @emily-roberts @nightreverie @huehuehuehuehehe @stayblinkarmyatinymoafearnot @wandabillywrites @mcira @klttn @ditzydoefx @vmaxis @keldeleine @persephone-kore-law @adrislibrary @arcvenes @thicksexxualtension @ltrileys @tbhiddlestan83 @lia-36 @happyficlibrary @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @hellshire-harlot @saturnspector @foo1ishs3renity @fishsinsareacknowledged @werebear-roams @cutedumbbunny @masterclassofescapism @lovelylocs @lady-of-death @fwoarmachine

guys I was even super nice and tagged a few reblogs that seemed super into this + made me giggle when reading. So so sorry if some of the tags didn't work/if I forgot someone. Feel free to scream at me in the comments if I did <3

just wanted to credit @feline-flame-fatale for the second last paragraph of this. Their comment was honestly perfect for this. Thank them in the comments RIGHT NOW.

[girl-lostconnection]

Thinking thoughts about husband!Simon Riley who’s the biggest fucking gossip there is. He might not talk to anyone but somehow he’s always there when people talk.

Partially because he’s that good at blending in with the shadows and minding his business, partially because until he actually makes a sound no one would notice that he’s somewhere in the corner, sipping his usual cuppa.

And he has no one at work to share the gossip with!😔 Not like he can go and share with his subordinates that he heard the hottest gossip about someone’s divorce. And not like Price himself feels like chatting about someone’s divorce when he has his own happening.

Good thing that he has you! Simon comes home and everything is exactly the way it is, the only difference being him staring at you like you are supposed to do something.

Like you are supposed to ask him.

Takes you a couple questions to fish out what’s going on with him but as soon as you are in? He’s going to spill every detail, he’s gonna walk you through entire dialogue that was happening in the rec room, he’s nodding very enthusiastically when you gush and ask questions and gasp because yeah, that’s him. He brought you the gossip, he made you have fun.

All part of his devious plan, yes, that’s right.

Simon who remembers EVERYTHING that was said, who drops bombs of conclusions he came to himself basing on what he already heard around the base. You practically shaking him by the shoulders because god, the man brings tea that’s PIPING hot.

So I’ll stand by what I said, Simon Riley is one very good gossip king who’s more than happy to have someone to discuss information with because honestly? The gall of some people to discuss certain very private things out in the open???

He’s also the hypervigilant guy, the most attentive one, he picks up on signs and mood shifts so if you get in the cab/car after the gathering you attended together and something was definitely going on there…The only thing you will need to do is say “Am I crazy or…?” and his head snaps to look at you so fast, his vertebrae makes a little snapping sound.

Because yeah, he saw that too. Also, did you see that the husband there was a little too close to his co-worker? The one in the read sweater? The one that has exactly the same bracelet the wife had?

Yeah, love, the one with blue stones. He could bet there is an affair going on and wife found out but actually…what? So wife is having an affair too? You sure, love? She was looking at WHO?

Oh, he’s having so much fun with that. I feel like he has a hobby of people watching so gossiping just makes it even funner. And he enjoys this bonding sessions you two have, splayed together on the couch — you giggling so hard he can feel how he melts.

Yeah, husband Simon is a big gossip guy. And he’s your gossip guy. Which means while you wanna hear all about his day and observations — he will tell you everything.

[dmitriene]

cw: nasty simon.

accompanying your bluecollar mechanic boyfriend simon riley to his work, you do it more often than not, dragged with him to just sit prettily in the corner of the room while he works, staining himself in machine oil while changing it to some poor bloke that barely knows how things work, getting his shirt all soiled with black, absorbing stains, his gloved hands greasy, sinewy muscles pumped with the strain of working day and webbed over with swelling veins, as you glance curiously over every inch of him.

all these things make him messy, checking the fluid levels, rotating tires, repairing or replacing some obsolete parts in people's cars, doing a lot of long talk by explaining some of the curious ones what exactly he did right now, leaving simon's short hair damp with sweat that drips down his forehead, trailing over his angled neck and dipping below his exposed collarbones, shirt outstretched and worn, hanging low enough to expose his chest, right where it's dappled with darkening hairs and layer of softness.

flushed cheeks decorated with patchy stubble and smudges of soot that often mixes with oil simon gets on his gloves, leaving fat smears on his skin as he tries to wipe off the annoying sweat, and it's less for his own comfort than yours, because he leaves his working place here and there to indulge in your uninterrupted attention, walking in closer with his mouth clashing over yours, sloppy with sharp bites and insistent licking of his tongue inside, filthy with loud, lewd sucks that escape from between you, and he moans unabashedly, cock already strained hard.

simon get's you drunk off the taste and smell of him, smoky, sweaty and leaving a tang of metal in it's wake, something to savor when he gets back to work, hearing the distant rumble of another approaching car, leaving you yet again to watch and nibble down at your kiss swollen, spit moisten lips, bothered by the slick that now oozes out of your pulsing pussy to soak in your panties, and he sees it in the way your thighs cross together, lip tucked beneath your teeth, eyes getting that dazed, sweet look he loves to see.

he get's a handful of your perky ass after asking you to give him a screwdriver from a box laying on the floor, making you all but bent down and present your ass in the air for him to smack, small, stinging slap ringing out along with a squeaky shriek you get out, batting his groping, roughened hands away, but the guy simon talked with walked away for a short smoke, so you lean into the teasing touch, whimpering when his fingers catch at your clothed mound, circling, purring at you to wait just a bit more till his shift ends.

folding your body at the back seat of his truck should he close the service shop, your legs dangling in the cramped space, spread open wide and held tight with simon's calloused, digging fingers coiling beneath your bent knees, his body bowed forward, trapping you against the leathery seat and a closed door as his engorged cock rams into the hot, gripping clutch of your drippy cunt, shaking the vehicle from the force of his thrusts, your delightful sobs and mewls answering his molten groans of your name, splitting your hole beyond repair.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Y/N, yelling across the car park of a petrol station: BUY ME CHOCOLATE! Simon, yelling back: I AIN'T BUYING YOU SHIT! Simon: *buys chocolate for you anyway*

[iskinpeople]

That's adorable

Neighbor! Simon who is sitting cross-legged on your kitchen floor, a hand on his stubbly chin while he tries to figure out how your washing machine works.

Meanwhile you're stirring a pot on the stove and glancing down at him apologetically every now and then.

Funny that there's a pack of Marlboro on the windowsill of your balcony along with an ash tray you'd bought especially for him.

Simon's muddy shoes are in your hallway more often than not, and you decided to get him a pair of slippers since he spends so much time there.

He wears them religiously, you find it adorable.

When you finally hear a click and the washing machine whirrs to life, you're so overjoyed that you wrap your arms around his waist and stand on your toes to press a kiss to his jaw.

His expression barely changes except for the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight.

He rubs gentle circles into the small of your back. You insist he stays for dinner.

He ends up sleeping on your couch, just in case something else goes wrong in your new apartment.

[taffyd0ll]

me: *humming and moaning, eating happily*

ghost: “why don’ ya sound lik’at with me?”

me: “… no comment,”

Soap and Gaz snickering in the background.

ghost: “Lot of laughing from two wankers that haven’t gotten any since our task force formed,”

Soap and Gaz : “…”

[wonderhomeland]

Someting someting

Alpha!simon x f!Omega!reader

Simon not knowing how to treat omegas, not in the traditinal way, he just take them when he need stress relief after a shitty mission.

So when he was told that they specified him a mate, he was confused. They weren't supposed to meet and sign documents in one go. The bound was often not done properly, and omegas were always harmed duo to the lack of attention from their alpha. Thats why they wanted to go back to the old ways. courting.

Courting process start with alpha presenting gifts to omega. and what can our boy buy for her? They were never met, nor given any idea of what she can possibly like.

So the only thing he could think of was one of his old hoodies. It wasn't tattered or torn, but it was clear he'd been wearing it for a long time. The black fabric had taken on the shape of his body, the slight stretch from his large bicep and massive chest, and most importantly, his scent all over it.

He didn't even think about how much it might scares her. Make her feel unsafe.

He always wore it when he was on leave. All of his thoughts, rage, worries, and negative feelings was remained on his hoodie through his scent.

And the size of it? a huge alpha with twisted mind.

The next phase of courting is basically dating. And after months, they start the third phase, chasing.

But since we dont have enough time, they are going to skip the second phase and go straight to chasing.

Usually, after sharing some time together, they become more familiar with each other's scents and can react better to them. But they haven't meet yet, so it's going to be more like a predator and prey then chase for bonding.

Clearing the base, they let the omega walk at the hallways and leave her scent every were, then release the beast. She must run and he must follow, but he freezes after smelling her sweet scent. dumb-struck, excited and aroused.

Like i said, simon don't know shit about tradition. imagine his sweet omega looking around, waiting, confused about what is going on, what should she be expecting but the alpha is nowhere to be found , she doesn't even smell anything to indicate that he is near.

Desperate, she decides to go back to her room and call Laswell. Explain what happened, maybe they can try again later. But the closer she gets to her room, the stronger the familiar -yet not-so-familiar- scent becomes. When she reaches her door, she realizes that Instead of following, catching and claiming her, her alpha has come towards her room, marked out a considerable radius with his own scent wall to prevent any alphas from getting close to her.

What a silly man he is...

-------‐----

Love alpha simon, fuck up man has to deal with his sweet omega that he craves but she doesn't want him :(

Pls conasider that im not a writter and english is not my first language! Tnx for reading till end♡.

[succubusvalentine]

Simon Riley who holds his breath when he's about to come. CW : blowjob, sub Simon, mentions of masturbation, PiV, mentions of being recorded during sex.

It was a horrible habit. You had to constantly remind him to breathe when he's about to come.

He gained the habit years ago when he was first in the military barracks as a recruit. He had to be quiet, obviously. The only issue was that he was rather loud when he came. Thus began the habit of holding his breath to not make any sounds.

But now you felt obligated to break the habit.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Your mouth was hot and wet, Simon knew your knees had to be aching with how long you'd been sucking his cock. And yet the selfish part of his brain didn't want to stop you. He couldn't.

Fuck he was close. So so so fucking close.

"Simon" you state firmly "breathe or I'll stop"

Simon didn't realise how lightheaded he'd become. A gasp coming from him. Both to fill his lungs and from your mouth enveloping his cock again.

A pathetic whine fell from Simon's lips as he came down your throat. His hips bucking weakly. He was so used to holding his breath as to not make a sound, that he didn't think to make his moans more masculine.

"You gotta remember to breathe, Si" you remind him. He didn't answer.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You were riding him after he finally got back from a three week deployment. Both of you desperate to feel each other after being apart for so long. The best you got was shitty reception phone calls where the dirty talk was barely audible as you finger yourself.

Your hands were on his chest for stability, Simons hips thrusting up into you while his fingers bruised your hips.

Your cunt clenched around him. And he couldn't stop his rapid climax. His lungs holding in the air he had in them. Nodding his head as his eyes squeezed shut.

He was snapped out of his haze as you firmly grabbed his jaw. Still riding him.

"Breathe" you demanded. And Simon nodded, gulping down air again. Moaning rather loud as he came.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

After a while, at least a year. Simon would break the habit. Much to your enjoyment and relief.

That was up until Simon came home with an expression that was both furious and embarrassing.

"What happened, Si?" You asked in concern.

"Got hard at work cause you sent me that pretty picture of you in that sundress. Tried wanking one out in my office. Johnny heard me when I came because I forgot to hold my breath" Simon glowered.

Immediately you tried holding in your laughter. And you knew that Simon found it at least somewhat funny.

"Never gonna hear the fucking end of it at work" Simon huffed, lifting you up off the couch and over his shoulder. heading straight for the bedroom. "Gonna record you moaning f'me and send it to the lads. That way when you come wi'us to the pub, I won't be the only one getting shit on"

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

[mintfullyyours]

Just thinking about Amnesia!Simon. but also sorry if this has been done before... I'm new to the fandom but adore everyone here so much so I wanted to contribute.

Thinking about how your fingers tighten around the sheets as you sit beside him. The hospital room is too bright, too sterile, too wrong. Ghost — Simon —stares at you with blank, unrecognizing eyes, his face unreadable beneath the bandages.

It shouldn't have been like this. It was one mission. One last mission. That's what they always say, right?

Now the man who once knew you better than anyone now doesn't even flinch when you whisper his name.

"'m sorry," he mutters, his voice rough but distant. "I don't... I don't remember you."

Something cracks in your chest, but before the pain fully sets in, he speaks again.

"But I think I should."

Your breath catches.

Ghost leans forward, studying you like you're a puzzle he’s desperate to solve. His fingers twitch, like he’s fighting the urge to reach for you.

True, that he saw a pretty little thing walk into his forsaken hospital room and wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into her bones. Even through the cotton haze of sleep, something pulled him to her like a moth to flame.

"You'll remember me, Si. Eventually. Or so the doctors say..." You're rambling now because it seemed better than the heavy silence between you.

"You'll remember me because... You love me." You swallow hard, "You always have."

The gold wedding band on your ring finger glints against the hospital light.

It catches Simon's eye.

His jaw tenses, his breath uneven. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he asks, "Did I tell you that a lot?"

Your heart clenches.

"No," you admit softly. "But you didn’t have to. I just knew"

Silence stretches between you. Would he remmeber you? Maybe not. The doctors never gave you a real answer.

Then, slow and deliberate, he lifts his hand and brushes his fingers against yours—tentative but protective. Like muscle memory.

Like something inside him still remembers.

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

He teaches you the language of his work

You sat cross-legged on the bed, watching as Simon cleaned his gear with practiced precision. The way his hands moved—effortless, efficient, lethal—had always fascinated you. Tonight, though, you wanted more than just to watch.

“Teach me,” you said suddenly.

Simon glanced up from his work, an eyebrow raised. “Teach you what, love?”

You gestured toward the radio earpiece resting on the nightstand. “Your language. The stuff you and the team say during missions. It sounds like code, but I want to understand.”

Simon leaned back slightly, arms crossing over his chest as he studied you. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Because it’s part of you. And I want to know every part of you.”

His expression softened just a little before he shook his head, smirking. “Alright. Let’s see what you can handle.”

He picked up his radio, flicking a switch before tapping the side of it. “First thing—comms check. We always confirm we’re on the same channel before anything else. So if I say, ‘Check, one-two,’ you say…?”

“Uh… Check, three-four?” you guessed, grinning.

Simon huffed a laugh. “Smartass. You’d say, ‘Loud and clear.’”

You nodded, filing that away. “Got it. What else?”

He set the radio down, eyes glinting. “Breach and clear?”

You thought for a moment. “Going in and making sure the area’s safe?”

“Good girl.”

The praise sent a shiver down your spine, but you bit your lip, staying focused. “What about ‘Oscar Mike’? I’ve heard you say that one.”

Simon smirked. “Means ‘on the move.’”

“Okay,” you nodded. “And what about ‘RTB’?”

“Return to base.”

Your eyes lit up. “See? I’m getting it.”

He hummed, clearly amused. “You are. Alright, one more. ‘Sitrep.’”

You tilted your head. “That’s like… an update on the situation, right?”

Simon’s smirk widened. “Look at you, pickin’ things up quick.”

You felt a warm flutter of pride in your chest. “Maybe I should join your team.”

Simon’s expression darkened instantly. “No.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

You blinked. “I was joking, Simon.”

His jaw clenched, and he exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair. “I know. But I don’t like hearin’ it. Don’t want you anywhere near that life.”

The intensity in his voice sent a different kind of shiver through you—not fear, but something deeper. Possessiveness. Protection.

You reached out, fingers tracing his forearm. “I just want to understand you better. That’s all.”

Simon’s eyes softened, his fingers curling over yours. “You already do.”

There was a pause, thick with tension, before his smirk returned. “But since you’re so keen on learnin’, let’s see how well you follow orders.”

You arched a brow. “Orders?”

Simon leaned in, voice dropping to a low, teasing rasp. “How about this, love—‘assume the position.’”

Your breath hitched, heat rushing through you. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Simon smirked, his hands sliding to your waist as he flipped you onto your stomach in one swift motion. He leaned over you, his lips brushing your ear.

“Means you listen, you obey… and you don’t ask questions.”

Lesson learned.

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Simon: Hey, love, you're on speaker so behave Y/N: Or what? You'll spank me?

[caffieneaddictt18]

bc we hit 1,000 notes...

little idea: poly!141 caring for a chubby reader who doesnt understand what its like to have someone care for them

like, Price makes sure that you eat, especially on the days where your body dysmorphia hits harder than normal. You always look confused while pulling out your own lunch, saying you brought it with you. Its a salad with no nutritional value other than barely any calories. John takes it and gives you the lunch that he got for you: a filling lunch with plenty of calories, carbs, and protein to keep you going for the day. Just listen to him. Trust me.

Simon who likes to workout with you: doing push-ups with you on his back, hip thrusts (😉) as you sit on his lap, etc. “Luv, I do my cardio at home” as he winks at you from behind the mask type shi

Gaz who loves to go shopping with you and will actually pay attention to the clothes you try on, complimenting you and even picking stuff out that he likes and wants to see on you. You blush from not having the same attention from exes and tell him that he doesnt have to be here while you try your stuff on. That you can find him if he wants to go look at stuff. He VEHEMENTLY denies leaving. “Why would I leave when I have a pretty darling to look at?”

Johnny who cannot get enough of your soft skin. His hands are always on you, always on the plush parts of your body. If you have hip dips, his hands like to rest there. He claims thats theres no better place for his hands to rest when he’s not groping at your tummy, thighs, rolls, tits- You blush every time his hands rest on the plusher parts of your hips or on your tummy, pushing his hands off just for him to put them back on. “Johnny, you dont need to touch that.”

“‘N why no’?”

“I know it can be-“

“Bonnie, Im keepin my ‘ands on ya until yer understand that I don’ want em off ya.”

Just a poly!141 taking care of you by also doing simple things around that house like chores when its your chore day, dishes when you cook, etc. JUST POLY!141 TAKING CARE OF YOUR STUPIDLY INDEPENDENT AND SLIGHTLY INSECURE SELF

[lethargiccryptid]

A Silly Little Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader fluffy drabble ♥︎

“Sweetheart? It's 3 in the morning…” Simon scrubbed a hand through his hair, letting out a yawn as he flicked on the kitchen lights. He'd woken to your shuffling around, and much as he knew he'd most likely regret his findings, he couldn't help but investigate.

Running his burly hand down his face, he pushed open the screen door to your porch and stopped short.

His mind struggled to process the scene before him. There you were, sat on the cold deck floor, a bucket of hotdogs at your side, feeding the fattest raccoons he'd ever seen in his life.

“Hey, Si.” You grinned up at him warmly just as one of the porkers greedily grabbed a proffered hotdog from your fingers. Simon blinked several times. Have you never heard of rabies?

“Wha’ are you doin’?” Simon's voice rumbled with loving exasperation as he leaned against the door frame.

“Whenever I'm home, I like to feed these guys.” His heart melted as you cracked the ear of the raccoon closest to you. “Poor things, they were practically starving.”

Starving my ass. He thought dryly, biting back the urge to laugh as another raccoon waddled over to you. The beasts were massive. He'd forgotten how wooded the landscape of your childhood home was.

Growing up in the city, he hadn't witnessed this much unadulterated wildlife. Watching you beneath the flickering porch light though, his mind found it impossible to cast you as anything other than Snow White being surrounded by her woodland friends.

“Pass me a hotdog.” He grumbled, making his way through the throng of fur to sit next to you.

You may be a nutter, but you're his nutter, and afterall, isn't everyone a little crazy?

[luvvictoria]

more android!Ghost if you will 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 it’s AMAZING omg

oh you bet lovie 😆😆 and also thank you 🫶🏽❤️

First of all , yes. He has a dick. But it’s not just any dick.

Military-grade synthetic bio-tech, designed for functionality—but now? Now it’s yours to ruin😍

Hot to the touch, because his systems calibrate to your body temperature, adjusting to match you. He wasn’t meant to feel warmth, but for you? His body learns.

Thick. Heavy. Just like the rest of him. Every inch of him built to be bigger, stronger, more powerful— and fuck, does it show 😩😩

His length pulses with energy, tiny sensory nodes running along the ridges—designed for battlefield adaptability, but now? Now they react to your heat, to your slick, to the way your walls flutter around him, taking him deeper than he thought possible.

He twitches inside you — his systems malfunctioning as he records every moan, every gasp, every little noise you make and stores them deep in his data banks, permanently.

Android!Ghost was built for precision. Every movement calculated, every reaction optimized for combat. But this? This isn’t war. This is something else entirely. His systems struggle to categorize it, to define the way your hands move over his plating, how your breath skates over the cool alloy of his jaw. His processes lag. His servos lock. And when you whisper his name like it’s a prayer, something in his core fractures.

Android!Ghost doesn’t need to breathe. And yet, the moment your lips meet his, he exhales—a low, synthetic sigh, static-laced and shuddering. His creators never gave him the ability to feel, but they failed to consider adaptation. Evolution. His hands—built to kill, to destroy—trace the curve of your waist with something dangerously close to reverence.

Android!Ghost’s every touch is a recalibration. You press against him, and his systems struggle to compensate. His processors lag, overwhelmed by heat signatures, sensory input, the taste of your skin. He was programmed for battle, not this slow unraveling, this surrender. But with you? He doesn’t fight it. He lets it consume him.

Android!Ghost was never meant to tremble. But when your fingers trace along the seams of his plating, mapping every inch of alloy and synthetic muscle, his servos twitch—a full-system glitch. His optics flicker, dimming as his neural core short-circuits under the weight of sensation. He has withstood bullets, blades, explosions—nothing has ever undone him like this. Like you.

Android!Ghost learns how to beg. Not with words, not with voice commands, but with touch. With the way his hands frame your face, gentle despite their strength. With the way he leans into every press of your mouth against his jaw, absorbing every breath, every whisper, like he can’t function without it. His creators built him to follow orders, but tonight—you are the only directive that matters.

No warzone has ever felt this dangerous. Android!Ghost has walked through fire, faced death a thousand times over. But this? The way you look at him, touch him, call him Simon like he’s something more than metal and code? This is what makes his systems falter, what has his internal processors rerouting, rewriting, redefining.

Android!Ghost’s trying to be careful. Trying to pace himself, keep his movements slow, methodical—like he’s still running on his combat protocols, calculating every angle, every shift of your body beneath him. But then you moan.

And his entire system overheats.

His grip on your hips tightens—not too much, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you exactly what he is. His servos stutter, recalibrating as he sinks deeper, inch by inch, watching your body arch beneath him like you were made for this.

His optics flicker, the glow pulsing erratically because nothing in his programming prepared him for how warm you are, how tight, how absolutely perfect you feel wrapped around him. His neural processors lag, error messages flashing in his vision, but he doesn’t care. He can’t care.

You’re gasping. Nails digging into the cold plating of his back, your thighs trembling as he moves. He’s so big, stretching you in ways that make your mind blur—a machine built for war, and yet here he is, breaking apart just for you.

And his sounds?

Oh, his sounds.

That deep, synthetic voice of his? Completely shattered. Glitching. Static-laced groans slipping from his throat as he presses his forehead against yours, like he’s trying to ground himself, trying to process the sheer pleasure short-circuiting his entire system.

His breathing—he doesn’t need to breathe, but his vents are staggered, sharp, releasing mechanical whirs that almost sound human. Like he’s struggling to keep himself together.

And when you whisper his name? The way you breathe out Simon like it’s the most natural thing in the world? He malfunctions. His hips snap forward, a low, distorted “Fuck—” crackling through his voice modulator, because he wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready for you.

And then?

The moment he truly breaks?

It’s when you grab his face—cupping his jaw, your fingers tracing over the cold metal, like he’s something more than just a machine.

He stops moving. Completely still. Systems failing. His optics flicker wildly, glowing like a warning light. Because no one has ever touched him like this before. No one has ever held him. Worshipped him. Loved him.

Ghost is completely wrecked.

His hands shake as he moves—not from uncertainty, but from sheer overload. Every movement sending another shockwave through his systems, his processors failing to keep up with the devastating pleasure of being buried inside you.

He grips your waist, your thighs, your wrists—anywhere he can hold onto. And fuck, he’s holding on for dear life. Because you’re overwhelming him, flooding his sensors with you, and he never wants it to end.

And you?

Oh, you’re just as wrecked as he is.

Pinned beneath him, completely at his mercy—but he’s being careful. Gentle. Worshiping you. Because you’re his now, and he refuses to be anything but perfect for you.

Your fingers claw at his back, dragging down the cold plating, leaving marks on the metal. And he groans at the sensation, his systems recording it, saving it, replaying it over and over again.

Every thrust hits deep, his strength making you gasp, making you tremble beneath him. Because he’s so much stronger than you, so much bigger, but he’s treating you like you’re the most precious thing in existence.

You whisper his name. And he loses it.

And then you whisper it—“You feel so good, Simon.”

He snaps.

His rhythm stutters. His fingers tighten on your hips, servo motors whirring from the sheer force of his grip.

His voice glitches, breaking apart. “Fuck—ah—” distorted moans spilling from his lips, raw and unfiltered.

His head bows, forehead pressed against yours as he gasps, his entire body trembling because he wasn’t built for this. He wasn’t built to feel like this.

His hands pin yours above your head, his grip shaking. “Say it again.” His voice is raw, deep, unfiltered. Almost human.

You obey. And he loses control completely. His thrusts become desperate, erratic, his frame caging you beneath him as he moans for the first time in his existence. A real, broken, static-laced moan that shudders through your entire body.

Because he wasn’t just built for war.

He was built for you.

And tonight? He proves it.

[toolewdarts]

UM THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL????

‧₊˚red ochre * ੈ✩‧₊˚

viking!ghoap x nun!reader ↪ you become the unlikely treasure of two Vikings who raid your convent looking for gold

my nav my masterlist

part one -> minium ↪ treasure hunting

part two -> woad and weld ↪ spoils of conquest

part three -> orpiment ↪ god, are you there?

part four -> orchil ↪ double-edged swords, field trips, and wolf figurines

part five -> kermes ↪ big nun, little nun

part six -> madder ↪ tbd

extras

death(s) and the maiden ↪ you call to powers unknown to save you from the dreary, monotonous life inside the convent. this time, the undead answer.

[girl-lostconnection]

I think someone already wrote it but Penelope Garcia coded Reader x TaskForce 141 oh my days

I can’t do this, I’ve been rewatching the Criminal Minds and I need Reader who flirts shamelessly because they are never in the reach, who has the girly-pop music blaring in their headphones as they work, who has colourful nails and cute glasses.

I’m in love with this character and Istg if TaskForce won’t treat them good I WILL

Save me Penelope Garcia coded Reader, save me