#simon hastings x reader

[blakeswritingimagines]

Who fell first and who fell harder

Anthony: He fell first and harder

Benedict: You fell first but he fell harder

Colin: He fell first but you fell harder

Daphne: She fell first and harder

Eloise: You fell first and harder

Penelope: She fell first and harder

Simon: You fell first but he fell harder

[targaryenluvs]

Infatuation

pairing: simon basset x fem!reader

warnings: darkish simon? a kiss, young reader (16ish!!) pushy and possessive simon, implied fem!reader and poc!reader, not proof read

notes: idk what to do so i just rambled 😭 this is just a two parter i think. and the storyline is a bit scrambled :) WHAT THE HELL IDK WHY I GOT SO MUCH ENERGY TO WRITE THIS BUT HERES ALL THE PARTS IN ONE DAY!!!! hope you enjoyed <3

PART I

Lady Whistledown: Dearest reader, the time has come to place our bets for the upcoming social season. Consider the household of the Baron Featherington. Three misses foisted upon the marriage market like sorrowful sows by their tasteless, tactless, mama.

Far better odds might exist in the household of the widowed Viscountess Bridgerton. A shockingly prolific family, noted for its bounty of perfectly handsome sons and perfectly beautiful daughters.

Or perhaps in the loving household of the Marquess of Anderton, Lord and Lady Y/L/N? With their two eldest sons, known not only for their intelligent selves and gorgeous faces, but for their stunningly bright younger sister, who is not just a pretty face.

Not only are the two families extremely close, but practically family, how very perfect, indeed!

It is only the queen's eye that matters today. A glimmer of displeasure, and a young lady's value plummets to unthinkable depths.

It has been said that, “Of all bitches dead or alive, a scribbling woman is the most canine." If that should be true, then this author would like to show you her teeth.

My name is Lady Whistledown.

You do not know me, and rest assured, you never shall. But be forewarned, dear reader, I certainly know you.

how on earth had you not yet read this?

one of the things you’d looked forward to besides meeting everyone had been the scandal sheets and you’d missed out on receiving one yesterday.

“this woman seems quite powerful. you know how easily words can ruin someone’s image. it’s interesting to see a lone woman hold so much sway in just her writing. i truly do wonder who she is. any guesses?” you asked pen, daphne and el as the three of you waited for your mothers and pens sisters to catch up as you made your way to the park.

eloise smiled, “it has to be a widow! no married woman would have time for this, she’d have an estate to care for and children pulling on her every day. a widow with her own home and responsibilities. perhaps lady danbury?”

you had to giggle at the guess, knowing whistledown herself was right with you. you’d managed to meet penelope at least, so that was one person of your list. lady danbury would be next with her ball tonight, and perhaps simon as well.

“what’s so funny? i haven’t heard a guess from you!” eloise groaned as you smiled, “i have no guesses besides, pen?” penelope’s head shot up straight away from the ground, “what?” “i was going to ask if you had any.” you could see her cheeks flushing, and her breathing quicken at the idea of being caught out.

and as you all walked together through the park, you’d mistakenly enthralled yourself in conversations, going so far as to walk with your back facing others. walking backwards as to face the girls.

“look out!”

before you’d fallen you were caught, by simon.

“i, i am so sorry. i was not looking-” simon smiled, “well that’s obvious no?” he joked as he lifted you up. you straightened your dress out and smiled, “of course. forgive me your grace.” you curtsied, in the presence of the person you’d been most excited to meet, you’d forgotten all about your friends behind.

as they all met him you couldn’t even take your eyes off of him, and neither could he for you. and once lady featherington came around she wasted no time to throw her eldest daughters upon him. the misery in his eyes hurt your soul so you took it upon yourself to rectify the situation.

“your grace!” simon turned towards you, as did everyone else. “yes, lady y/n?” you smiled, “would you like to accompany me, to promenade?” simon tilted his head, pondering your question.

he couldn’t help but be taken aback, usually many girls weren’t so forward. and god were you beautiful. rather than dealing with annoying girls who wanted a title the second they saw him, he could walk with someone he actually found interesting.

“i- would love to.” he smiled as he took a step back, allowing you to walk with him. you could hear the chatter from the girls behind you as well as your mother and violet.

you’d spent so long together, walked for so long your feet ached afterwards. and you didn’t miss the longing stares from other men around, and the women for him.

and even if it had taken so much energy of yours to keep walking, you wouldn’t have given up the chance. everything he said, you replied to. every joke sent laughter rippling through you and you could not help but feel content. he was, even better then the show. and as you got to know him you felt unbelievably happy.

and so did he.

he went home with all his thoughts containing you. he found himself smiling at every memory of his time with you that day. your smiles, your laughter, your beauty, you. and he had no clue why. he’d never been this taken with someone and he found himself struggling with why.

over the season you found yourself taken with him, your family allowed you to attend balls and do as you wish but you were under no obligation to dance or do anything you did not wish to.

yet you found yourself undeniably enthusiastic every time you realised you were going to a ball because you’d see simon. you’d dance, you’d laugh and everything else because he always gave you something to look forwards to, as did you for him, he was truly an amazing friend.

and he was completely besotted with you.

much to not only anthony’s surprise but danbury as well.

and simon was so intent upon being with you.

as much as you liked him you could not help but love how you were. your family was amazing and so happy. you had amazing friends within daphne, penelope and eloise. marriage seemed so far away in your mind and your life was sweet and favourable.

lady trowbridge’s ball was, scandalous, to say the least. you couldn’t believe your eyes when you walked in, half naked dancers spinning around, and quite uptempo music for a woman in mourning.

“lady y/n, may i-” lord wellington was promptly cut off in his endeavour to dance with you by the person you’d been looking for.

“y/n?” simon called out as he made his way to you. “simon! there you are, i was wondering where you’d gone off to.” you smiled at your bestfriend as he made his way to you, nodding in acknowledgement to his friend lord wellington. you thought they were friends at least.

and so did simon, until he saw him coming after you for a dance.

“come along now.” he smiled as you also nodded at the lord, “it was nice to see you my lord.” you curtsied as simon dragged you away.

“oh my god, i thought he would never leave! he tries to dance with me every single ball yet he doesn’t take notice of my indifference towards him!” you snorted as simon laughed louder, “i did not know such an unbecoming sound could originate from such a lovely women!” you scoffed, “that is no way to talk to your best friend!” you fake cried as you wiped literal tears from your eyes, the paintings in-front taking your eye.

simons breath hitched, best friend? best friend?

is that what you thought of him as? he thought the world of you, over the time he’s gotten to know you, he held you in the highest esteem. you were everything to him and he was a mere friend for you. no, he would not have it. who else loved you as he did? wanted you as he did?

“best friend?” simon questioned as your laughter died down at his seriousness, “what?” you giggled as you tried to compose yourself. “you named me your best friend. am i nothing more to you? just a friend? you see me as an acquaintance, as a brother?”

“no i do not see you as a brother, my dear simon.” you smiled, “you are amazing. every day i wake and think of seeing you, for the time i have known you, you have been nothing short of my favourite person. i look forward to seeing you, speaking with you and dancing. arguing over who’s literature is better, who’s right and who’s wrong. i have never known someone’s company besides daphnes to never annoy me. i love you, i do but-”

“but nothing. we love each other, that is all that matters. y/n not a day goes by where i do not wish to be in your presence, to see your gorgeous face. to hear you say my name, to feel you hit me when i say something utterly scandalous. i cannot and will not imagine myself spending my life with no other women but you. you are my other half, you are the air i breathe and the only person whom i’ve ever loved as much as i do. there are not enough words to describe my love for you y/n/n. it is you who i wish to wake up with everyday, it is you who i wish to be with, you who i would start a family with. your laughter that shall echo through my halls for as long as we live. i cannot and will not fathom the idea of you not being here for me, you are made for me.” simons grip encircled your wrists as he pulled you close, his face drawing near as he met your lips.

you never imagined yourself here with simon especially. he’d been nothing short of amazing in your time here, your best friend. but here you were, kissing him.

kissing him?!

you immediately detached from him as you retained your senses and drew your hands to cover your face in shock. “i’m so- so sorry. i do not know what that was your grace.” you rambled as your heart quickened, had someone seen? how could you be so stupid!?

his eyes furrowed at your words, your grace? what was with the formalities, you were to be wed, to be together. and here you were reverting to old habits. “my love there is no need to use such proper titles.”

your head whipped up the second he stopped speaking, “simon do not say such things! endearing terms as such are for, married couples. we are not.” you whispered as you made your way towards the party, but not before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him as you collided with his chest.

he couldn’t let you go, everything, his head and his heart were screeching at him to ‘hold on tight’, to not let you go. so he did what he thought best,

lie.

“someone saw us.”

your eyes widened to the heavens as your breathing quickened again, “no. no they didn’t- they didn’t.” you shook your head as he placed his hand on your cheek to have you look at him. your eyes began to water and he felt himself tense, he hated it. he hated the idea of you being upset, but he was so close to having what he wanted so he continued.

“my dear y/n, i will treat you better then anyone ever could, deep down you know you are better off with me then any other. i love you, we will be together.” simon explained as you buried your head in his chest, you were so young, you hadn’t even properly debuted and now you were to be wed. how did you let this happen?

but a little voice piped up in your head, ‘it’s simon, your simon. the one who is always there for you. marrying him will give you a life of happiness and peace. marrying your best friend is the best thing you could ask for. you loved him when you didn’t know him truly, and now you do. be happy.’

and you wanted to be, simon was so good to you.

but you knew you weren’t ready. with marriage people would expect a child, a family. and your real life, the one back home? what would happen? would you ever go back? or would marrying him cement you in this world, forever.

“shh, you’ll be okay. i’m here, right here my love. you are my love, my heart, my infatuation.”

and you didn’t know it but you were right, the second you allowed him into your life, you were never going to go back home.

[mysteryenchatress]

Simon: Y/n, I want to give you some advice.

Y/n: ….right okay?

Simon: If a door ever says ‘push’ you pull, it’s not directions, it’s a challenge.

[d4yl1ghts]

new desires

simon basset x bridgerton, fem!reader

summary: you’re at your mother’s manor for dinner when you notice simon licking his spoon and you get some new thoughts

warnings: cunnilingus, praise kink, expeditionist kink, semi-public sex, fingering, p in v, orgasm, unprotected sex, nudity, breeding kink (maybe), dom!simon, sub!reader

A/N- this is kind of cringe but it’s fine!!!

-

You glanced at the entrance of your childhood home as your carriage pulled to a stop. Simon hastily rose from his seat and gently took your hand as he guided you down the steps. Amidst the buildings around you, the manor blended in as most buildings were large and housed families. However, the manor had a larger garden than most, which is what made it bolder than the others. Simon had a soft hold on your hand as you both entered. “Hello, dearest.”, your mother said cheerfully as she hugged you. “Hello, mother.”, you hugged her back.

She reached over to shake Simon’s hand. “Hello, your grace.”, she stated. He chuckled. “Violet, I have said many times, just call me Simon.”, he responded amusedly. “Alright, Simon.”, she replied. As you and Simon walked into the kitchen, you were suddenly surrounded by Francesca, Gregory and Hyacinth. “Aww, hello.”, you said as you ruffled Gregory’s hair. They all hugged you as Simon watched the interaction from the side. He smiled at you gently as you made eye contact with him once you had pulled away.

Your four other siblings made their way over to you now. Simon made his way to his seat to allow you some privacy and to catch up with your family. “Hello, Y/N, how are you, I haven’t seen you in such a long time?”, Anthony lead the conversation. “I’m doing well, it has been wonderful to have some time to ourselves but I’ve missed you all so much.”, you replied earnestly. “We have all missed you too.”, Daphne added. “Yeah, Anthony has gotten especially annoying ever since you’ve been gone.”, Benedict responded teasingly as he glanced at Anthony. Anthony gave him a death stare in an almost threatening manner.

“Eloise, have you read any new books whilst I’ve been gone?”, you questioned as you had noticed she had yet to speak. “Oh yes, of course. There was one about a man who rose back from the dead to be with his true love.”, she started. For roughly five minutes she was naming and describing the books she had read. “Everyone sit down.”, Violet ordered.

You made your way beside Simon and his lips curved upwards at the sight of you. “Did you have a nice catch up, dear?”, he asked tenderly. “Yes, Eloise was informing me of all the books she has read and Benedict was telling me how annoying Anthony had gotten since I had left.”, you answered. Simon chuckled slightly.

The maids placed down many plates of food so there was a choice for everyone. You all began gathering your food onto your plates. After your main courses, you were quite full but Simon was not. For dessert, the maids served chocolate mousse. As Simon ate it, you couldn’t help but stare. His tongue washed over the spoon with expertise and you could only let your imagination create another situation that his tongue would do that in. Simon seemed to notice you drooling over him. He smirked like he could read your mind.

He even had the nerve to slowly move his hand up to your inner thigh below your ball gown. You could feel a wetness forming quickly. You clenched your thighs together to ease the pressure and to get him away from where you needed him. You couldn’t do this here. He still continued to go up, until he reached your wetness. He began by gently rubbing it, teasing you. You bit your cheeks to hide your moans.

You gazed around the table, checking if anyone had realised that you were in the process of the Duke’s hand curling into your pussy. Your mother seemed to be already watching you intently. You offered her a quick smile before your attention was redirected to Simon plunging his fingers into your wetness. You turned to glare at Simon as you desperately held in your moan. Anthony, who was beside you, gave you a weird look once he noticed your expression and your mother was still watching you strangely.

After a few more minutes of everything finishing their desserts, you were finally able to leave the table and the teasing Simon was putting you through. “Simon and I are going to head upstairs for a bit.”, you waved everyone off as you dragged the Duke upstairs. “I can’t believe you just did that, my mother definitely knew something was going on as did Anthony.”, you muttered aggressively. He only chuckled in response. “You secretly enjoyed it.”, he simply stated. You had no response to that. You couldn’t accept it or deny it.

You only stared at him. “Are you going to finish what you have started or not?”, you asked with an annoyed expression on your face. He got down on his knees. “What are you doing?”, you questioned innocently. “I saw how you were looking at me whilst I licked that spoon.”, he reminded you. You said nothing. He helped you remove your ball gown and undergarments. He began lightly pushing his fingers in and out of your pussy to get slicken you up.

Abruptly, he gently placed his tongue in your slit and ran it up and down it. You moaned at loudly at the new feeling of pleasure. “Good girl.”, he praised you. That only made you more soaked. He started lapping his tongue against your folds, making you cry out slightly. You could feel your high coming. He sped up the pace of his tongue and as you came, he swallowed all of you.

“That was so good, your grace.”, you panted out. “Why have we never tried that before?”, you asked. “I didn’t whether you would want to try or if you’d be opposed to it.”, he stated honestly. He then attached his lips to your neck and bit down gently. You lightly moaned out: “Simon…”

You could feel his hardness against your body and you stared at him as you grabbed his shirt, silently asking him to take it off. He did as you said and threw it off quickly. He kissed you passionately before removing his pants and garments. You pulled him closer to you so you could feel his bulge and he could feel your wetness against his body.

He slowly aligned himself with your entrance and gently pushed his length in. You moaned as you felt his cock inside you. Once you had adjusted to his size, he began to thrust at a faster rate. You and he both moaned. “Well done, my love.” You felt yourself tighten and his cock twitch inside you. You felt yourself come undone as you felt his shoot slide deep into your pussy. “Gosh.”, you panted. You sounded like a dog. He stared at you in admiration as he softly huffed.

It was the next day and you had slept in for obvious reasons. You made your way down for breakfast and noticed Benedict pointing at you and giggling. “Hmm?”, you mumbled. Simon hastily got up towards you and whispered: “It seems that after last night, I left a few marks on you, dear.”, Simon confessed guiltily.

You headed towards the closest bathroom and noticed the massive bruise on your neck from where Simon bit it. “Simon!”, you whisper-yelled. “Sorry.”, he said as he smirked at you. “Do you have a scarf or something?”, you questioned.

You walked back into the dining room with a red scarf around your neck and everyone offers you perplexed looks except the ones who had worked out what had happened, they silently laughed at you.

[teecupangel]

call of duty x assassin’s creed au where everything is the same but simon riley and shaun hastings are cousins and constantly diss each other. Simon thinks Shaun is a weird wimp (tried to convince him bigfoot was real) and Shaun thinks Simon is a edgy emo manchild (Shaun thinks hes cool as fuck)

I’m kinda imagining that they both don’t know each other’s actual ‘job’.

For Ghost, his taskforce was a need to know basis. Shaun actually believes he gets sent to different bases to waste taxpayer’s money (not that Shaun himself pays any tax in the first place). Of course, it helps that Lt Simon Riley does have records being inputted in the main databases on regular basis. It’s a common setup done to keep specialized taskforces’ members hard to pinpoint or find. If one doesn’t know what signs to look for, they wouldn’t question the validity of those reports (ex: ‘clocking in’ times are always the same range of 5 minutes early to 5 minutes late, there is not a single time where it deviates from that range)

For Shaun, Erudito does most of the hard work by publishing articles in Shaun’s name. Shaun wrote all those articles but he’s the type to write lots of articles in concerning amount of time then going back to his Assassin duties. As far as Ghost knows, he’s a weird conspiracy nut with noodle arms and legs because he stays cooped in his room all day.

It would be funny if Shaun learns of Ghost’s actual job first because TF104 got entangled with the latest amazing race between the Brotherhood and Order against some kind of POE. They were in the vicinity of the final clash for another mission and Shaun recognized Ghost’s emo voice.

Ghost realized something is wrong because he recognized the voice of the hacker that helped them (you scratch my back, I scratch yours kind of way)

It was Shaunny-boy’s girlfriend/roommate.

[becasworldsstuff]

Can i please request a romantic Simon Basset x OC/reader fic? Simon being completely in love with her since they were young, but since his father told him to go away, they separated. They met again.

-> Pairings: Simon basset x reader

-> warnings: none

Simon basset and miss l/n had always been friends, thing caused by her bubbly nature that could outshine the sun even in an August day. She was the only one with whom he could talk without stuttering, he felt at ease and nothing could really make him sad if she was near him. Her presence as a reminder that not all in life was sad and angry at him, that not everyone was disappointed in him, on the contrary she never made him feel bad about himself.

When the old duke of Hastings sent his son away due to the problems he was causing to his own mental health, the two were separated, nothing in means of letters or visits between the two for years if not the memories captured together and the burning sensations in the part of their body that the other touched, or the single pink flower dried out inside Skmon's favorite book that she gifted him as a reminder of the beauty hidden behind fragilness. Both the young hearts were left shattered thinking they would never see each other ever again.

But in his drawer were piled up letters written in his best calligraphy and on the best paper money could buy, for his best friend and little piece of heaven, who had been his own safe place in the mess his childhood had been.

It was her who motivated him enough to return to his old house when the man died, and he found her on the steps of his big place, with glimmering eyes and the brightest smile that ever existed. He stopped in front of her with his mouth that had gone dry, she had grown into the most exquisite young lady he had ever seen or imagined to lay eyes on, his eyes widened and his hands were begging for something to grasp onto to not loose balance while she watched him, she took one step forward and his heart skipped a beat. Even if he only realized now he could pinpoint her as the only woman in his life to which he could ever truly love, but he stayed silent, catching up with her like old times, not stuttering like when they were just little kids playing in the garden not caring about duties.

The days passed and the season started, now miss l/n obviously came from a very wealthy family and her kindness and beauty were known upon the society, but this was her first season, and her older brother and father refused to give away such a perfect girl to anyone so, when they catched up with the Duke longing stares they decided to talk to him, a man of honor, well bred, wealthy. Simon never in his life thought that he deserved for his dreams to become reality but he knew he was a duke and her best solution to this world of strange couples, so he was the one to go talk to her father, asking him her hand in marriage and bowing down on one knee with watering eyes as he proclaimed his love to her:

" never had I ever experienced such strong emotions nor strange feelings, my stomach flutters and my troath goes dry as if I was denying myself with water for you, you make my heart stop and the dream of seeing you walk down the aisle to me has been my favorite image for my life. So please accept my undying love for you because I cannot breathe if I'm not near you, neither I can eat or drink or sleep away from you, you are my sun and my moon and every single star in the sky, my whole body was created to match yours and my core only exists to love you and adore you, you make me burn like I was in a fire that cannot die. So please do me the honor and let me make you the duchess of Hastings "

Her response was awaited from the ball room that had just seen him pacing in front of the doors before barging in and stopping the dance that was occurring at the time, she held her breath and nodded slowly while forcing herself to blink as I'd to make herself realize that that moment was true.

[laurenluvss]

please hear me out on prince friedrich 🤭💕

[thesexydancingcrepe]

I BURN FOR YOU 🔥

How Crepe feels towards Wukong

Me crossing Bridgerton quote with a jttw au together because I can

Reference:

[jimblejamblewritings]

Which Bridgerton Pairing Do You Want?

I might not go with the most voted pairing but I want an idea of who people want or like especially if I make more Bridgerton fics.

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107​ @i-have-no-life-charlie

[imgondeletedis]

to my 5 followers😍

who from you will be interested to read like a snippet or like something from a benedict x oc fanfiction i am planning to write?? idrk if it is good, anyways ive had the idea for a year now, i still hadn't figured out the whole plot yet, but yeah there are few things i am positive about, maybe if someone's interested and think that snippet is good i will start taking writing lesson to improve and then i will make the idea i have come to life hehehe

[blakeswritingimagines]

Your Relationship Trope

Anthony: Enemies to friends to lovers, Forced to be together, Grumpy x sunshine, College relationship.

Benedict: Soul mates, Secret relationship, Forced proximity, Love at first sight, Secret admirers.

Colin: Childhood friends, Best friends siblings, Rivals, Opposites.

Daphne: Friends to lovers, Mutual pining, Love triangle, Forced together due to a storm/storming weather.

Eloise: Friends to lovers, Marriage of convenience, Unrequited love, Bickering all the time.

Penelope: Forbidden love, Forced to work together, star-crossed lovers, Second chance romance.

Simon: Enemies to lovers, Possessive lover x nonchalant lover, Bad one x Good one, Power imbalance.

[targaryenluvs]

Hey, sorry to be a bother, but on your Masterlist, your fic 'Infatuation' for Simon Basset is listed as two parts, but only one of the links work, and I can't find the other part anywhere, so I was wondering if there's only one part, or if it's a glitch. Btw, I adore your fics🩷

i think tumblr may have eaten it 😭

i’m so sad!! the second part is working, and i can’t find the first anywhere. thanks for bringing it up, i’m so sorry you can’t find it. i’m pretty sure the part up is the second part, the first part was just the reader watching the show and ending up as best friends with daphne and staying with the bridgertons ❤️

thanks for reading ❤️

[d4yl1ghts]

can you please write a simon basset x reader where reader is a noble but also owns a boutique and designs dresses and is very popular amoung the ton? im thinking he meets her at a ball or something

designer

simon basset x fem!reader

summary: you’re a well-known member of the ton and you own a boutique. what happens when you meet the handsome duke of hastings?

warnings: mentions of alcohol

A/N- i hope this is alright!

-

You were stood at the corner of the ballroom that someone from the Ton was hosting. Every so often you would offer smiles to those who noticed you. You were well-known in the Ton, you just didn’t particularly enjoy talking to random people that you’d only ever heard of from random stories. As you glanced around the room, looking for something interesting, your gaze couldn’t help but return to a young man with short hair and a perfectly styled stubble.

Simon could feel someone’s eyes on him and he looked around and saw you focused on him. Once you had realised he’d seen you, you quickly turned to look away. You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks at having been caught staring at the handsome stranger. He elegantly made his way towards you. You took a gulp of your champagne.

“Hello, Lady Y/N.”, he gently kissed your hand. Your cheeks blazed even more. “Why have I not had the pleasure of meeting you yet?”, you questioned. “I’m not quite sure, but it is nice to meet you. I am the Duke of Hastings or as I’d like to be referred to as Simon Basset.”, he stated charmingly. “May I have this dance?”, he asked. You placed your glass on the side. “Of course, your grace.”, you said as you took his hand.

“I have heard that you own a boutique, is that true?”, he asked, glancing down at you. “Yes, I design dresses actually. It is my work but I’d prefer to say it is a hobby.”, you answered as you danced along to the music. “Ah, I do believe that designing would be a hobby. It sounds fun but I have never tried it. Perhaps you could teach me one day?”, he offered. You couldn’t help but notice the fact that he said ‘one day’, would this mean you’d get close to him? “I would love to teach you. Although, it is hard work sometimes.”, you replied.

“Do you think I am swayed by a bit of work?”, he responded in a flirtatious manner. “Of course not, I was just testing you, your grace.”, you stated playfully.

You broke your eyes away from Simon’s figure and noticed many members of the Ton staring at the two of you. This was going to be in Lady Whistledown, you presumed. As the instruments came to a close, the Duke lead you to the side. “Thank you, your grace. I enjoyed that dance very much.”, you curtsied. “I enjoyed it as well. I hope to see you again, Lady Y/N.”, he said honestly. “I am sure you will, Simon. I will probably have to come to many more balls or if not, you have my address I believe?”, you questioned. “Yes, I look forward to seeing you.”

The Duke walked away confidently and was soon out of the doors of the ballroom. You soon followed, there was no point of staying at the ball anyway. As you journeyed back to your manor, you couldn’t help but think of your next meeting of the Duke. He was very indoctrinating, he was all that was in your mind.

[frost-queen]

The Duke and Duchess (Reader x Simon Basset)

Requested by: @deninwra Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @floatlosers, @alex–awesome–22  @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic  , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis

The table was set. A banquet to your delights so early in the morning.

Plate already filled with some bread and fruits. Yet your gaze was elsewhere. Staring in front of you to an empty chair. An entirety of empty chairs surrounding you like a soulless gathering. Members of the household standing by the windows. Waiting for breakfast to be over and clean up the table.

You were about to grab for your knife, when the doors opened behind you. Feeling a presence behind you. An arm reaching out for your plate. Taking your bread and bringing it up. You followed the movement with your gaze, slightly turning in the seat.

“Si!” – you called out seeing him take a bite from your bread. He happily munched on it, keeping a hand on your shoulder. – “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.” – he said bending down. His breath hot on your lips. You shook your head, receiving a kiss from him.

Simon exhaled loud, pulling a chair back by your right. – “Oh and I’m stealing this.” – he said flapping the piece of bread in the air. A member of the staff launched forwards. Rushing to the other end of the table. Grabbing the plate and cutlery.

Hasting her way over to the duke to lay it down in front of him. Simon looked briefly up to her with a grateful nod before turning his attention to you once more. You reached out for a new piece of bread. – “So what is on the duke’s agenda today?” – you asked with curiosity picking up a grape to put in your mouth.

“Anything that requires him to be with his wife.” – Simon replied reaching for your plate. Snatching a grape as you watched with shocked irritation that he was stealing from your plate. – “Is my plate more tempting than yours?” – you wanted to know, throwing him a teasing smile. – “All that is yours I want.” – he answered flashing you a blissful smile.

You hummed intrigued. – “Even my corset?” – you responded. Simon laughed loud, placing his hand on yours. – “No, that you may keep.” – he went on. – “Shame it would’ve suited you.” – you finished with a sarcastic smile.

It made Simon entangle his fingers with yours, lifting your hand up. Leaning in closer to you for it was only for your ears. – “Don’t make me lose yours.” – he whispered leaving you flustered. In response you gave him a playful shove. Simon took you by the elbow, pulling hard on you so that you fell forwards.

Chuckling before he plastered his lips on yours. He pulled away but not before he stole another grape from your plate. Out of revenge, you stole the remaining bread where he had taken one bite from. Taking a bite of it yourself with a sarcastic glance.

Simon took your hand as you got up. The staff got in motion once you had left the room to clear up the table. – “So what is truly on your agenda?” – you asked letting your hand sway by your sides. – “As I said, spending it however my wife spends it.” – he responded giving your hand a soft squeeze.

“Do you not have any obligations today?” – you wanted to be sure. Simon shaking his head. – “Not today. I made sure of that.” – he answered. You gave him another playful shove for being so annoyingly charming. Simon chuckled. – “And to think you didn’t even like me in the beginning.” – you reminded him of the time at the social season.

Simon held his finger up in protest. – “Correction, I was simply too stubborn to admit that I liked you.” – he corrected, pulling at you so that your side bumped against his. He threw his arm around you, keeping a hand on your hip. - “But now you are al mine.”

Simon led you into another room filled with paintings. From wall to wall. – “Oh what’s this are you going to ask me to dance?” – you spoke with a flirty smile. You strayed away from him, but not too far as he kept holding onto your hand. – “Not quite.” – he responded pulling you back to him. You bumped against his chest feeling a bit light on your feet.

Simon let his hands go down your arms till they reached your hands. Taking each in his hand, moving your hands up. You furrowed your brows when he closed your hands. He curled up a smirk keeping your fists up. He then moved both his hands up, palms open. Twinkling a bit with his fingers to tease you. It made you laugh.

“You want me to punch you?” – you asked tilting your head a bit. – “A duchess needs to protect herself when her husband is not around.” – he responded. – “Oh does my husband plan on leaving me alone?” – you threw back at him with a flashing smile. – “Never.” – Simon whispered out. You curled up a smile, keeping your fists up.

Moving one fist forwards, you hit him square in the palm of his hand. – “Is that supposed to hurt me?” – Simon let out. – “I was just warming up.” – you called out. You threw another punch at his palm with more force. – “A tickle to my hand.” – he let you know, making you clench your jaw. Clenching your fist more, your muscles tensed. Throwing another punch at him.

Simon barely flinched, angering you. You groaned loud, throwing another punch out of frustration. Simon grabbed your fist, pulling at you. You stumbled forwards with a slight turn of his guidance. Bumping with your back against his chest. Simon gazed down at you, keeping his hands on your hips.

He came leaning down, breathing down in your neck. It left a ticklish sensation on your skin. The hotness of his breath teasing you before his lips would pleasure it. You craved his touch on your lips. Elbowing him a bit back to turn around in his embrace. Grabbing him by his suit, you pulled him at you to kiss.

Lips crashing on his as they followed his sweet rhythm. His hands went further down to your hips, pulling a bit of your skirt up. Blinded by love that he had for you. He guided you towards the wall, pressing your back firm against it. Grabbing for your leg, he hooked your knee at his side. Kissing you more roughly as he couldn’t get enough of you.

Making himself crazy about you. Wondering why he had been so stubborn for so long. If he had admitted it sooner, he could’ve enjoyed you earlier. Instead he had remained stubborn, turning an eye to Daphne Bridgerton in the hopes it would sniff out the flame burning for you. Yet when a gentleman showed interest in you, it was clear the flame was never sniffed out. From that moment on, he needed you and nothing was going to stop him till he had you.

Simon moved the shoulder patch better over your shoulder. Sweating blissful from showing his love to you. You were still panting, wiping some sweat from his cheeks. He held your hand, bringing it up to kiss the back of your hand. – “You didn’t pull away this time.” – you told him as it was strange that he did.

You knew how his opinion on children was. Simon chuckled, looking shyly down. – “I am well aware of that Y/n.” – he responded cupping your cheeks. – “It isn’t like you.” – you answered knowing what it could mean. Simon gave you a kiss on your forehead. You smacked your hands against his cheek, squishing them a bit together.

“Who are you and what have you done with my husband.” – you called out jokingly. Simon pulled your hands down with a laugh. – “I am still the same me.” – he responded, bringing a hand of yours to his chest. – “I simply believe I’m having these baby fevers.” – he spoke. You gave him a playful shove. – “You have been talking to Lady Danbury have you?”

That made Simon laugh even harder. – “Perhaps but those conversations have not changed me.” – he stood by his point. – “Clearly.” – you responded with a smile. Simon wrapped his arms around you, hugging you as he rocked your body from side to side.

“You made me change my perspective. Very slowly you did.” – he let out, knowing you would’ve been happy either way if you never had any children. Never forcing it on him, but keeping it his decision. Humming pleasantly, you got on the tips of your toes to kiss him. – “I love you Simon.” – you spoke. – “I love you more Y/n.”

Simon and you left the painting room to have a stroll around the garden. – “If it is a boy I’ll teach it to box.” – Simon spoke to your surprise. It made you slap him against his arm. – “Now I truly start to wonder if you are the same husband I had this morning.” – smiling at how excited he was about that.

“We are not even sure yet that I am pregnant.” – you responded. Simon wrapped his arms around you. – “Then I’ll just have to keep trying.” – he whispered in your ear. You squealed loud trying to run from him when he wouldn’t let you. Chuckling and laughing to your delights.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[shotmrmiller]

pornstar au

f!reader x simon 'ghost' riley

3.7k words (sorry)

tw: teacher-student relationship but it's just a scene for porn. explicit. horrifyingly so.

You burst into the classroom and stride purposefully towards your professor, who is seated in his leather chair, engrossed in his work. Impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for him to finish marking essays. However, after 5 minutes, your patience with this unbearable man ran out.

"Professor."

He hums, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat yet doesn't look up from what he's doing. A real piece of work, he is. How fucking aggravating.

"Professor Riley," your voice takes an irreverent tone.

The hand that had been writing non-stop comes to a sudden pause, and he finally directs his attention to you. Meeting your gaze, his dark eyes are hooded, his lips set in a firm line. His job is to literally deal with students, yet he dares to look annoyed.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong 'r am I gonna have to learn how to read minds?" he states.

Taking in a calming breath, you clench the crumpled essay in your hand. "Can you explain to me why you failed me on this? I did exactly as you asked!"

He must know precisely what you're talking about because he simply turns back to the papers on his desk.

"Tha's your problem. You did exactly as I asked, with no thought behind it. Just wrote the bare minimum, if you can even call it writin'. It's copy-paste," Professor Riley sets the pen down and leans back in the chair.

"I need ya to use tha' head o' yours when in this class. Otherwise, you'll fail the rest o' your classes too."

Fucking hell.

Professor Riley shifts in his seat, seemingly done with the conversation, and finishes, "If tha's all."

Shit. Your pause is too long, and the director calls it. Fuck.

"I'm really sorry, Ghost, I didn't mean-" Your words of apology dissolve into thin air as his strong hand finds its place on your hip— giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze.

"S'all righ', love. Mistakes happen. Matter fact," his eyes drift from you to behind you to beckon someone with two fingers. "C'mere, you."

It's the set assistant, and he's brought the script with him. Ghost swiftly stops him from handing it to you, instead pushing it onto the assistant's chest. "Won't be needin' tha', thanks. Tell the director tha' we'll be ad-libin'. Now sod off."

The assistant follows his command in haste, scurrying off to follow Ghost's instructions.

"Hey," he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, feeling the intensity of it quickens your heartbeat. "Say whatever you like, just remember to follow the storyline, alright?"

Follow the storyline. In porn. The irony isn't lost on you, but you bite the side of your gummy cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir."

He drops his hand from where he held you slowly, seemingly almost reluctant to let go. "Ready?" Ghost's thin lips curl into a smirk when you nod at his question. "Good girl."

Your fingers tightly grip the flimsy material of your uniform skirt at his praise, and warmth pools in your lower belly.

His good girl.

A high-pitched voice cuts through your thoughts, signaling the restart of the shooting. You exhale a long breath, unclenching your hands in the process.

Action.

"If tha' all." Ghost reaches for his pen when you frantically grab onto his Oxford sleeve.

"Wait, Professor, please! I can't," you stammer, "I cannot fail this class! My parents would kill me if I studied abroad only to flunk. The tuition—"

His tone is authoritative as he abruptly cuts off your lengthy excuse. "Enough. Nothing can change the mark I've given you."

Your ears pricked up at his wording, and the corners of your lips pulled up into a roguish smile. "No?" Ghost stills before turning to face you, countenance blank. "Nothing at all, Professor?" With a coy tilt of your head, your wide, doe-like eyes meet his as your fingertips trace an alluring path from his forearm down to his knuckles.

"I really can't convince you in any way to change that grade for me?" You lean on the edge of his wooden desk— skirt so short it doesn't even graze the surface of it— and lightly curl your hand around his pointer finger. "It can be our little secret, Professor Riley," you purr.

Ghost lifts a single brow, and settles back into his seat, arms crossed over his barrel chest as his eyes travel from your feet to your exposed cleavage, fixating on the soft skin peeking out from your uniform top.

"Please?" his hushed voice reverberates inside your skull. "I promise to be a good girl."

That catches his attention, eyes flashing to yours, the fire behind them hot— you hope it burns you.

"'Sat, right? Tha' changes things now, doesn't it?" Ghost rolls his chair back, away from his desk, and spreads his thick legs apart in invitation, arms resting on the rests— the dictionary definition of casual. "Convince me then, pet."

"Yes, sir." Sauntering to stand in between his legs, you swallow thickly— the bulge in his groin was quite frankly, intimidating. You've had large, but this was in a league of its own.

"You gonna do it from up there? I know I'm bigger than average but not tha' big." A huff escapes from your lips. A whole comedian.

Knees pressed into the cold, tile floor, you expertly undo the button of his trousers and with his help, pulled them down along with his pants— just enough for his cock to spring free.

Bloody fucking hell.

His cock is monstrous. It rested against his belly, heavy and thick. The pink tip slightly peeking from under his foreskin. There was a groomed thatch of coarse hair at the base, and his balls were also heavy— one hanging lower than the other.

Ghost leans forward and cradles the underside of your jaw with one large hand, fingers gently caressing the delicate skin of your cheek, while the other pumps his rigid cock in anticipation. "Not scared, are ya?" His grin was wicked. "I promise it don't bite."

Grabbing his wrist, you maneuver his hand so that his thumb now rests on your soft lips. "Might not, but I do, Professor." And catch the tip of his finger between your blunt teeth, the subtle sting of it making him hiss.

"Perfect, pretty girl," he says, almost inaudible. His words of praise are for you alone— not for the scene, nor the camera. You peer up at him through your lashes, mewling softly at the expression on his face.

His brow was set, hooded eyes sultry, a rosy hue across his cheeks and nose, and lips parted as he panted quietly.

Delicious.

Ghost then pushes his thumb further into your slick mouth and hooks it behind your bottom teeth, delicately pulling you closer to him as he tips his head down— taking his thumb out with a pop. His warm breath fans across your face as he moves closer until his lips connect with yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting of frosty mint and his own unique taste.

Your hands come up, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs when he grasps your wrist and moves it to the focal point of his desire— his breath hitching when you give his cock a firm squeeze. Ghost bites your bottom lip before breaking away, a guttural noise escaping him when you begin to stroke him. "Tighten your hand around—" he breaks off, moaning against your kiss-swollen lips when you comply.

He threads his fingers through your hair that sits at the base of your skull, curling them into a fist and tugging back— craning your neck, hair pulled taut.

"So obedient. Jus' f'me, love?" you hum cheekily, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"Would you hold it against me if I said no?" he chuckles under his breath, the grip on your hair tightening marginally.

"I'd say tha' you're lyin'." He sucks in a breath when you press down lightly onto his slit with your thumb. "Cheeky."

He loosens the hold he has on you, feeling your scalp prickle with tender relief, and relaxes back into the chair. "All yours, sweetheart."

That light wasn't getting any greener, so with a grunt, you shifted your weight, ignoring your aching knees, and wrapped your lips around his cock.

Barely.

The salty bite of his arousal and musk spread on your tongue as you took him in deep, stilling once he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, look at me."

Slightly tipping your head back, you do as he says, your throat closing around him as he slips in even further.

"Fuckfuckfuck," a hiss, "such a hot little mouth, just swallowin' me righ' up." Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen, forcing you to pull back to gasp for air. Ghost squeezes himself at the base and taps your cheek with his saliva-coated length.

"A dirty slag like you, jus' takin' me like a professional. Tha' what you are? A professional cock sucker, love?" he taunts. Your pussy clenches when he calls you a slag, pressing your thighs together in the hope of some friction; Something to alleviate the throbbing ache in between your legs.

Ghost with eyes as keen as ever, notices. Damn.

"Oh? Little harlot likes to get degraded, does she? Reminded of her place? How I'd love to teach you exactly where you belong, but tha' wouldn't be you convincin' me to change your bad grade, now would it?"

His cock taps on your swollen lips. "Another time, hm? Now open. Make me see reason."

Ghost's wish is your command. With enthusiasm, you take him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, place a hand right under your lips, and twist with every push and pull.

It's sloppy, spit covering your hand, dripping down to his balls. Your jaw aches, a burning pressure a little under your ear, but what gives you the strength to continue is the loud moans coming from Ghost. He holds nothing back, his hand engulfing the crown of your head while he gently pushes you down. A performer down to his very bones.

You were about to pause the recording, the pain in your mandible and knees almost becoming too much when he suddenly pulled you off of him.

"Wha—?" Ghost seizes you by the upper arms, forcibly bringing you to your feet, disregarding your pained whimper, and places you on the sturdy desk.

He's curling his fingers into the waistband of your frilly knickers, slipping them down your legs and pocketing them. There's a quiet popping sound when he bends his knees, going eye level with your bare cunt.

In a hushed tone, you say, "This isn't part of the scene." Ghost drags his eyes from your glistening slit to your face, gaze suffocating, smothering the very air in your lungs.

"Just a taste, love." He curls one hand under your thigh, lifting it to perch it on the edge of the desk, the other he throws over his strong shoulder. The only sound in the room is your soft moans as he expertly slides his warm tongue through your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

By god does he eat pussy like it's his job. Peering down at him, you can't stop the sounds that spill from your mouth when his tongue visibly splits your pussy lips open, flicking at your clit, lapping up your arousal like it is honey. You take hold of his short hair, tugging at the strands as each swirl of his talented tongue pushes you closer to your peak.

His eyes cut to yours when he presses a thick finger into you, drinking in your desperate expression as you keen, begging for more, blabbering about it being so good, yet not enough, please god more.

Ghost curls his finger, only taking a second to find your sweet spot, and pushes— bursts of light flashing in your peripheral vision. You begin to rock your hips unconsciously, chasing your ecstasy, and Ghost simply flattens his tongue, letting you grind against it.

You teeter on the edge of bliss, a tightening in your stomach, right under where his finger is. Shaky exhales leave you, the leg that's on the desk visibly trembling from the tension that threatens to snap you in half.

He presses a kiss to your sodden pussy, and croons, "Gonna come f'me?" You jerkily nod.

"Yes fuck yes, I'm gonna come for you, just for you, Professor Riley pleaseee—" your blathering turns into a high-pitched squeal as he lightly sucks on your pearl, hips lifting off the desk as a blinding orgasm crashes into you, pleasure bursting through your very core, cunt pulsating with every wave of ecstasy around Ghost's finger.

He wastes no time in rising to his feet and slotting his mouth over yours, the taste of your slick strong, potent on his tongue. Ghost breaks away, his breath smelling of your desire. "Exquisite, like ambrosia. Addicting."

Ghost's hand cups your sensitive quim and whispers, "Think you can take me? Tha' orgasm took a lot outta ya."

Silly question. "I'm a big girl, Ghost. I can take it."

He licks the front of his teeth and glances down to where his hand rests. "Course you can, love. Turn around f'me."

Your movements are sluggish as you turn over onto your stomach, rising to the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him.

Ghost grabs the sides of your waist, and flips your skirt up, tucking the edge into the waistband of it. His hands palm your cheeks, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open, completely exposed to him.

"Fuck me if tha' isn't the prettiest sight I've ever had the pleasure of seein'." He doesn't acknowledge your scoff as he spreads your hands out, placing them flat on the table— enveloping your hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His leans over your semi-prone body, cock gently prodding at your entrance, gliding easily through your folds. "Ready?"

Arching your back, his tip slips inside, just barely. That's your answer.

You can hear the smarmy grin that spreads on his face, and wanted to snark back but you're rendered mute when he pushes in. Your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock, a feeling so sublime you know that no one will ever be able to duplicate. Your fingers tighten around his as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against your arse.

Ghost sucks in a breath through his teeth when you shift your weight, and whatever you did has him sliding in deeper— turning his hiss into a guttural groan. "Fuck, you have no fuckin' idea how good you feel."

Probably not, but you have every idea how good he feels.

"You okay, love? Took me so well like you were made jus' f'me. So warm and soft, tight like a vice around my cock. Pretty pussy split wide open, stuffed full of me." He speaks unfettered filth to you, dripping over your ears like molasses, thick and syrupy. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders— dizzy, drunk on his scent, his cock that's got you tearing at the seams.

Then he begins to move, pulling out until an inch remains inside, and pushing in until he's nudging the plug of your womb, feeling a deep pinch under your navel.

This is what it's like to get fucked by Ghost. The one everyone covets after, hoping he drags down the very heavens with his bare hands and lays it at their feet. And here he is, fucking you. A newbie, a fresh face no one knows yet, a name that'll probably never grace the front page.

You doubt his motives are altruistic, but goddamn does it not matter; Not with the way he's carving a space inside of you that only he will ever fit in, or the way he's curling his free hand around your neck, thumb pressed right over your racing pulse.

He lowers himself until his strong chest is to your back, his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "The moment I saw you gettin' fucked by Johnny, I knew I had t'have ya." Your walls clamp down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him. "Fuckin' hell, I knew this pussy would be magical."

Ghost's lips skim over the shell of your ear before pressing a chaste kiss on it. "Lemme hear how good I make ya feel, pet. Don't hold back on me now." He grinds into your arse, going in so deep that it feels like he's trying to push past the entrance of your womb. "S'alrigh'. I'll jus' have t'pull 'em outta ya."

He releases you, placing both hands flat on the desk, on either side of your shoulders. "Take em for myself, make 'em mine." Straightening all the way, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.

"What a view. Perfection." He rolls his hips, rhythm languid, loud squelching noises coming from where he fills you. "Drippin' cream all over my cock, pet. Can't tell me this isn't 'cause of me."

How the fuck can he still talk? How is he coherent? Why isn't his brain turned into mush like yours is?

"Fuckin' ya speechless, am I? Oh, sweetheart, but I'm barely gettin' started." Ghost slowly pulls out, and curls his hand around your shoulder, nudging you to turn over. "On your back, now."

You lazily flip over, hair sticking to your sweat-slick skin, and he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you to the edge until your arse hangs from it. "I wanna see that pretty face when you come." He wastes no time in sheathing himself back inside your swollen channel, walls fluttering at the invasion.

Ghost hooks one leg over his shoulder to lean forward, pinning you to the desk with his upper body, and maneuvers your other to wrap around his wide waist. "That cock drunk look on your face makes my balls tighten, what a fuckin' expression you've got, christ," he growls. "Knowin' I put it there makes it all the better."

He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gives you a smile that is all teeth. "Now let's make you sing."

Grunting, he straightens. plants his feet firmly, stance wide, and begins to fuck you. The videos of the famed Ghost you saw are nothing, nothing, in comparison to real life. His full weight is behind every spine-jarring thrust, it makes your teeth clack, it rattles your brain inside your skull. He does it so perfectly because at no point do you feel any discomfort, not even a twinge. It's all a pleasure that blazes, an all-encompassing heat that threatens to swallow you whole, burn you from the inside out.

His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat, and it's so good, so fucking good— god, maybe he is god, you don't know, everything is so blurry, hazy—

All senses focus on the sudden touch between your legs, an expert thumb drawing tight circles on your slippery clit and there's no way you're going to survive this—

"There she is, the girl I saw in the video. Tha's an expression I see in myfuckin' sleep. Give me what's mine, pet. Let me feel you, cream all over my cock."

He's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, a wave of pleasure so intense, it just might drag you out to sea, drowning you.

Ghost, the fucking god of sex, stops his ministrations to spit on your pussy. Spit. From his full height, a glob of warm saliva drops to your mons, and he smears it with his fingers over your pussy lips before rubbing your clit. His thrusts slow in pace, turning into a firm snap of his hips, making sure you feel every ridge of his cock, and in less than a minute, your spine arches off the desk.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream, lids snapping shut as you break underneath him, warmth gushing from where he's continuously sinking into you, a steady, slow rhythm that never ends.

"Came all over me, didn't ya? Bet you didn't know you could even do tha'."

You didn't.

"Jus' for tha', I'm gonna give you somethin' in return, yeah? A little reward for bein' so good," he praises.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, swollen and thick, and unconsciousness creeps at the very edges of your mind.

All you can do is lie there and take it, his sloppy thrusts, his harsh panting until he moans, "'m close, so fuckin' close," and with whatever remnants of strength you have left, you use to squeeze him tightly— unwilling to let go because his come is yours now, you've earned it.

"Come in me, Ghost," you whimper.

That does it. He slams his hands on either side of your head and borderline roars out his release, cock twitching inside of your used cunt, filling you with his spend.

Cut.

Ghost's breathing is labored, a harsh pant that fans over your overheated skin, damp with sweat.

His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, gulping in air and shivering in the aftershock of his climax.

To be fucked by Ghost is to see the Garden of Eden behind your eyelids.

Now you understand. You understand why he has no equal. He is unparalleled.

Jesus Christ, you're fucked. So, so fucked.

He slowly opens his eyes and peers down at you with a wolfish grin.

"Perfection."

--

A week later, your video with Ghost is the most viewed on the entire website. Not one other video even scratches the bottom of where your video sits.

Ghost truly is the king.

Curiously enough, your friend is the one who lets you know that Mr. life-altering cock himself never kisses during work. Not once in any video of his has he ever kissed, apart from a short pressing of lips to skin.

Your heart traitorously flutters at the thought of it meaning something more. Catching feelings when you get fucked for a living is not the move. But there's no stopping it from misbehaving, especially when you receive another script, to make another video with Ghost.

Another. one.

Fuck. Fuck!!

You cannot wait.

@mishaglass

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon desperately eating you out after a rough day.

***

The door slammed shut, making you jump and bump against the edge of the counter that you stood at before the sink, finishing up a few stray dishes that had been left from the night before. You turned to see Simon standing there in the doorway, stiff as a goddamn board with only his eyes clocking the room to find you and locking on to your form like a beast ready to pounce.

"Pants off...now," he demanded, his voice metered and firm as he removed the mask covering his features.

"Well, hello to you too," you chuckled as you crossed your arms over your chest, but he was not in a picking mood. "What's up?"

He took a calming breath; it wasn't your fault his mood had been soured today and he didn't need to upset the only person that could turn this all around. "It's been a fuckin' day, luv. Need something to take the edge off before I send someone to the goddamn morgue. So, again, pants off…please."

This wasn't the first time you'd encountered this specific Simon before; his short, gruff sentences were an obvious indication that he has had an absolutely rotten fucking day and was completely over it already. And because this wasn't your first time you knew what he wanted…

…what he needed to let all that stress go.

Slowly you undid the button of your pants, pulling down the zipper before slipping your hands inside the waistband and sliding your jeans down off your legs. Once you removed them from around your ankles you tossed them to the side and stood there in your panties and tank top, waiting for him to give you your next instruction. Like a flash he moved in and was now on top of you, enveloping you entirely with his hulking form as it fit against your curves until your backside was being indented by the edge of the countertop.

Hot, hungry lips scrambled to aggressively connect with your own, fighting for dominance as the back and forth of the dance continued with each passing second. He let himself go to become consumed by you, unable to find a pause to take a breath as he all but devoured you whole until there was nothing left in his mind but you.

Those large hands with their thick, rough digits pawed desperately at the warm, soft skin of your bare hips, grasping as much meat between them that they could hold. All those curves, all the smooth, voluptuous flesh ready to be caressed, it was enough to drive him insane; how fucking lucky he was to have it all at his disposal now to help cure his bad day?

God you were a fucking feast and he was starving.

The connection between your lips was broken sloppily and with haste, a sting of spittle connecting your lips sparkling in the light as he pulled away. Simon hurriedly grabbed the hem of your tank top and ripped it up and over your head, letting your breasts drop and jiggle with the reverb as they were set from their cage.

"Fuck," he groaned under his breath with a sharp inhale through his teeth as he latched those lips back on to your own. "That's a sight that could do me in."

On the move he leaned his tall head lower as those raw lips began to explore further down along the curve of your neck, the line of your shoulder, and finally coming to those beautiful breasts which he immediately sucked into his mouth. The suction was intense as he used the very tip of his tongue to circle those perky rosebuds until he felt them stiffen against the roof of his mouth and your body twitch from the tingly feeling it gave off that shot up your spine.

Whatever you were doing before this felt like a distant memory as his attention grew your arousal so that your body responded in kind to him just the way he wanted. He switched sides on your chest, not wanting the first breasts twin on the other side to get left out. Simon only moved on after your hips began to grind against the bulge growing at the front of his pants.

His lips continued down the line of your body as he knelt to the ground before you, ready to put everything into worshiping that sweet pussy he loved so goddamn much. Over your sternum and stomach all the way down to your pelvis his lips caressed until they reached a roadblock covering those last few inches to his destination. That was quickly dealt with as his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your panties to slide them down your thighs, letting his lips keep going all the way to the mound of your sex; only then did he pause.

"Spread," he demanded again as his hands tapped at your inner thighs, his message being short and sweet and to the point. "I'm fuckin' endin' this day on a high note. I'm not stopping' till I'm on the goddamn verge of death by suffocation, so don't ya even try to move, luv."

You widened your stance with the guidance of his hands until there was enough space to allow his face to fit between them. Hands back on your hips, holding them as handlebars so that he could incline his face against your cunt he dove in.

Your petals were so warm, so silky, and it felt good on his mouth as he kissed that other lovely set of lips a few times, sighing as he was finally able to relax in his favorite place.

"Here we go, baby," Simon breathed into you as he extended his tongue and drug it over the slit between your legs until he had split you open, rubbing the muscle through the small accumulation of your juices to coat his tongue.

Goddamn were you sweet tonight. "Mmmm mmmm," his deep, garbled hum vibrated deliciously on your clit as the taste of you filled Simon's mouth and tingled on his taste buds.

…And then he began to move the pad of his tongue…

Over and over his tongue engaged your core. "Fuck, Simon," his name fell from your lips as his tongue began to make you writhe against his face.

"Again," he said in that gruff growl as he pulled from your for only a second.

You knew exactly what he meant for you to do. "Simon," his name was beautifully moaned from you once more as he focused all his efforts on that small bead of nerve endings at the top innermost part of your cunt.

The sound of your soft, breathy voice calling out to him made the previously enraged Lieutenant fucking crack at the seams and any trace of that rage-inducing day was suddenly completely gone; replaced by a fire to make good on his promise to desperately lap at you for as long as it took until his skin was infused with your scent and he was fully satisfied.

He moved up even tighter against your core, locking on so that even as you bucked there was no chance he would fall off until he was good and fucking ready to let you go. Shit he was pushing you to the limit of what you could take, your body aching wildly as his strike hit precise and deliberate every time until you were right at the cusp of your pleasure. God, his pace was relentless.

Overwhelmed with the intense gathering of warmth in your belly, your toes began to curl together over top of the floor as you scrambled to keep your breathing steady through the growing euphoria. How were you supposed to force yourself to intake air when all your functioning had been redirected straight to that pleasure sensor in your brain?

That thought had little time to gain traction as that feeling of impending pleasure had reached its peak.

Suddenly you were spilling violently, crying out as you tried to move him from you, but Simon was in this till the end. He kept at it until you had ridden it out to completion and finally settled, your heavy panting becoming softer and more drawn out.

You thought that that was it; the finale had been reached and all was good right? You could not have been more wrong. A wet flash of a smirk crossed his lips as he stood back up before you.

Without even a verbal warning his hands were suddenly digging into your sides as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom where he sat you on the surface of the bed. Reaching with one of his hands over his shoulders he gripped the fabric of his shirt in his grasp and pulled until it came off over the top of his head, throwing the useless article to the floor before stalking towards the bed.

"On ya knees baby," he grunted as he hurriedly laid down on his back beside you further up towards the head of the bed. "Over my face. Now."

Simon pulled at your arm until you moved, his need to be smothered between your thighs causing him to rush. Grabbing on to the headboard for leverage you knelt over his head.

Your petals glistened with the sticky cum and saliva mixture he had just created as he ate his first course, but there was still plenty to get lost in and he was more than ready to dive back into it.

Greedy hands rubbed up and down the smooth skin of your thighs. "Sit," he commanded and you bent your legs until you were just above his nose, but that wasn't good enough; he didn't need you being gentle, he needed you to give him what he wanted - to let him drown in you.

"No hoverin', I said sit," he hissed as he quickly moved his hands to your hips and wrenched them down so that you had no choice but to lower yourself until your pussy was completely flush against his face like a chair.

His breath hitched not just from the instant lack of available oxygen, but because the feeling of being completely enveloped by your pussy was akin to being high; he was on cloud fucking nine just suffocating against you.

The headboard thumped against the wall from your arms shaking as full contact was made again along your core after just having come. The tears stung your eyes, your over-stimulated clit so sensitive it almost hurt. His grip on your hips didn't let up, keeping the pressure tight so that there was no chance of escape, even though you wriggled in search to ease up a little.

There was still some fight left in you; that simply wouldn't fucking do as it meant he hadn't finished the job and he was anything but thorough. Simon needed you completely spent and too exhausted to even move a goddamn inch.

"I-I can't…I can't," you pleaded with him as you squirmed over top of his stark features like anything you said would persuade him to give up.

You could hear his voice in your head, you knew what he'd say if he could talk at that moment. "Oh yes you can sweetheart. You're gonna fuckin' take it all for me."

I mean look at that big boy, he could eat and that meant all types of meals, you included most of all.

As if a nonverbal response to your mewling, his tongue picked up in speed, stroking wildly against your clit with reckless abandonment. Your fingernails were digging into the wood of the headboard, thighs vibrating against Simon's ears as each movement of that deadly appendage brought you closer and closer to your second harsh release.

"Bastard," you whined.

He gave your hips a hard squeeze. Call me what you like baby, he thought, you're still gonna fuckin' come as many times as I want.

So warm, so wet, so soft, gasping for air... He was in heaven.

Unconsciously your hips began rocking along with the thrusts of his tongue, riding him just as he worked and that familiar feeling in your stomach returned. Seconds passed…or was it minutes? Hours? Time seemed to pass differently when he was eating you out.

All of a sudden you stopped rocking, pressing your pussy as hard as you could against his face, and with a few more hard strokes you cried out as you came violently, slamming into the headboard as your thighs clamped down around Simon's ears.

"S-s-shit…" you whimpered as you ground out the last drop of your ecstasy until Simon tapped your thigh to be set free.

Legs shaking, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed bright red, you fell down on the bed beside him, unable to move a muscle save for your head. Turning your face towards him you were met with a very happy and content man gazing back at you with those fiery auburn eyes, face absolutely drenched from eyebrows to chin in a thin layer of your cum.

He reached out to you, his palm cupping over the entirety of your cheek. "You did so fuckin' good for me sweetheart," he praised, thumb rubbing over the supple skin there. "So fuckin' good that I think ya deserve a break…but I don't think I'm finished quite yet."

"Oh?" you questioned back through heavy breaths, eyes wide. More?

He chuckled in that deep vibrato as he rolled over to kiss your forehead. "Well… ya see… it was a really fuckin' bad day."

You hadn't planned on dying today, but if Simon got his way he would be setting up your funeral later tonight, but there were worse ways to go…right?