#simon would help with the hair care of course

[trojanteapot]

I SAID I WOULD DO FANART OF IT.

I SAID I WOULD.

the prophecy has been fulfilled.

(original post but its a different thing now lol)

[vanillarosekiss]

how husband!simon riley would always keep you, his loving wife, nicely fed and fucked…

warnings: heavy smut with no plot, highly descriptive sexual actions, mentions of cnc at the end, unprotected sex, language, Husband!Simon Riley x afab!reader.

word count: 0.4k

Simon took great care in keeping his wife happy. As a military man who’d been subject to changing his old ways, he had taken pride in the fact that his missus was always looked after, fed well, and fucked regularly as needed.

It’s sort of like taking care of a plant, he would think. A delicate house plant, capable of looking after itself at times, but needed some external factors to keep it growing properly. That’s what Simon was, your external factor. He would always make sure you’d had something to eat, allowing you to cook for him occasionally but also taking the same duty for you.

And he was a great cook, underrated really, many didn’t know how good his culinary skills were. Of course, you did.

He would get back from a day of work, exhausted and fed up, but wouldn’t allow himself to sleep until his missus had been eaten out properly and had a sufficient orgasm. After all, you were the one who cared and loved him so much, so you should surely get a reward, pretty girl?

He wouldn’t leave you hanging either, best believe it. He came home one day, finding you trying to work yourself up to orgasm. Silly girl, don’t you know that it’s Simon’s job? He would pull your hand away from your already soaking pussy, immediately delving down on it with his mouth, hot and ready to work for a reward. Your hands would grip onto his short blonde hair, moaning his name as he devoured your mound, his nose occasionally catching your clit and creating the friction you so longed for. He would continue these ministrations for a while, his thumb coming to help work you by rubbing small clockwise circles on your delicate nub, building up the pressure over time. As you writhed around, already overstimulated after coming on his mouth once, he wouldn’t stop, knowing you could take more.

“Come on, lovie, i know you can take it” he would coax you into orgasming again and again until you were all fucked out. He would usually put his needs aside, unless he had a particularly stressful day. In this case, he’d apologise for riling you all up but doesn’t he deserve a treat once in a while for looking after you so well?

“That’s it baby, take it all like the good wife you are” he would groan as he stuffed your pussy with his hard cock, precum leaking from the soft pink tip that was now almost hitting your cervix. He would undoubtedly finish in you, apologising profusely for the mess. He would obviously clean you up, the gentleman he is, only after fucking his cock back into you gently once or twice. What? He didn’t want his seed going to waste.

[kismetlotts]

cw: soft love, soft sex, sexual content, mentions of rough sex but none at all, Simon cant help but get emotional, crying, cheek kisses, mentions of Simons military scars, soft touch, love, riding, comfort

Simon Riley who cries during sex- but not in a broken submissive way. Not because you’ve teased him, treat him and took him like the good boy he is. Not because you’ve made him beg and yearn for you so hard and so much he can’t help but sob.

No, Simon Riley who cries because no matter how humid the room is, how wet the sheets are from the both of your sweat and love combined, no matter how dark- lights on and off, only one thing comes to his mind when you settle yourself down on him.

How beautiful you are.

Hearing your murmurs, whines- moans and breaths. Hearing you ask him if everything is okay- if you were okay- if you were fucking ‘good’ for him. It pissed him off because you were perfect in every single way. Even when you accidentally gripped him a little too hard, or bit down or wriggled in a way that makes him hiss- every little fault and fail was perfect because you made it. And it made him emotional. Made him feel.

He’d try to be brave, to be calm- to shake and swallow down them emotions. An SAS soldier crying during sex? What an absolute loser! He didn’t want you to catch him like that, his large hand gently fisting the back of your hair before pushing your face down into his shoulder. Watered eyes, staring up at the ceiling as tears leaked from the corner of his eyes and dripped either side of his head.

“Am I doing alright?” You would breathe out to him. Raising your head from his shoulder while moving your hips to match his rhythm. The duvet to the double bed the two of you shared draped over your shoulders, concealing you both together. Together; the two of you- Simon wished he could live in this moment forevermore.

“Of-” He would start but pause as his voice cracked and lip quivered, choking back the tears that threatened to break. The dark hairs of his eyebrows furrowed in irritation as he scolded himself mentally. Throat was jammed, his heart a mix between bursting open and falling into his stomach. For once he felt vulnerable. He shouldn’t be acting this way- sex was supposed to be full of hunger and desire.

You reached your hand down, placing it over his own that fell attached to the skin of your waist. It was so natural to you, you didn’t even notice you did it meanwhile Simon almost broke apart at the gesture. Inhaling sharply and getting hold of himself.

“Of course you are. Perfect in every way.” His voice a croaky whisper and he pressed his chapped lips against the soft skin of your cheek. Kissing you with such passion and care.

The scars of his fingers brushed against your skin while he pushed your hair to the side with his free hand. The two of you locked like that while you both orgasmed. Skin to skin, chest to chest; his molten warmth flooding you with admiration and affection. It was real, he felt purpose with you.

Moments passed and the two of you would move to get comfortable, he’d move his arms letting you climb off of him before immediately rubbing his eyes clear. You wouldn’t miss the redness and the way his nose sounded all snotty as he breathed in; but if you were ever to ask he would just tell you he was feeling tired.

You couldn’t miss the times you heard a whimper slip that was a pitch to high to be from pleasure alone, the times you’d seen the skin beneath his eyes shine- of course it could just be sweat- however deep down you knew otherwise and he was fully aware you knew about his ‘tearful tendencies’. He saw it in your eyes as you searched his face.

You didn’t push him, though. You didn’t tease him or tell him that he shouldn’t be embarrassed. You didn’t try to comfort him and you did not pester him about it. You never mentioned it once because sometimes words aren’t needed to communicate. Dark eyes fluttering shut as your fingers trailed the muscles and veins of his arms, soft strokes against his harsh, worn skin: your touch spoke volumes to him.

You understood that, even if he knew that you knew, he didn’t need the confirmation: just the comfort to barricade himself out his head.

And that was another reason he loved you.

[maskedbyghost]

Part 3 of fuck buddies with Simon

You didn’t wear anything fancy. Just jeans, a sweater you didn’t have to think too hard about, and your hair pulled back because you didn’t have the energy to fight with it.

You weren’t even sure why you texted him. It was impulsive, sort of. A moment of weakness, maybe. Or maybe it wasn’t weak at all—maybe it was brave, letting him back in even just a little. You told yourself it was just coffee. Just a talk. Just two people who used to mean something meeting up like civil adults.

But your hands were shaking a little on the steering wheel the whole way there.

You parked down the block from the coffee shop, needing the walk to settle your nerves. It didn’t help. Your stomach was twisting up like it always used to when he’d come over—when you didn’t know if he was going to be gentle or cold, if he’d stay the night or leave without a word. You hated that the nerves felt the same now, even after everything.

When you pushed open the door to the café, the little bell overhead jingled like something out of a movie. And there he was—already sitting at a table near the window, back straight, fingers wrapped around a cup. He looked up as soon as you walked in, like he’d been watching for you, like he hadn’t taken his eyes off the door since he sat down.

And he smiled.

But something about it made your chest tighten. Your legs felt suddenly heavy, and you paused just inside the door, your fingers curling in the sleeves of your sweater like you needed something to hold onto. You stood there for maybe three seconds—maybe four—and then you turned around.

You couldn’t do this. You thought you could, but you couldn’t. Not when your heart felt like it was ready to give itself away again, not when your head was screaming that he could still break you with a single word.

Your phone was already in your hand as you pushed back out into the street, your fingers moving fast.

I’m sorry. I can’t do this.

You hit send, and at the exact moment, it started to rain.

Of course it did.

It wasn’t even dramatic rain—just that soaking kind that gets into your clothes and hair and makes your shoes squish with every step. You didn’t have an umbrella, nor have the presence of mind to pull your hood up. You just walked fast. Like if you could get far enough away, none of this would feel so raw.

And then you felt it—arms wrapping around you from behind, firm but not forceful. Strong, familiar, and warm, even through the wet fabric of your jacket.

“Don’t go,” Simon said, his voice low and right against your ear. “Please, just… don’t walk away again. Not like this.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You couldn’t. Your whole body was tense, like you were stuck between wanting to lean back into him and wanting to shove him off.

“I get why you left,” he said, and his voice was a little shaky now. “I deserved it. I didn’t give you anything to hold onto. I made you feel like you were just... convenient. And I fucking hate that I did that to you.”

The rain kept coming, dripping down your face and clinging to your lashes, and still, he didn’t let go.

“I don’t want anything from you right now,” he said. “I’m not trying to push. I just wanted to see you. Talk to you. I miss hearing your voice. I miss the way you laugh when you’re annoyed and the way you go quiet when you're thinking too hard. I miss knowing that you were somewhere in the world thinking about me, even if I didn’t deserve it.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“I’m scared,” you said, finally, voice soft and small in the rain.

“I know, love,” he whispered, arms still around you. “I’m scared too. Scared I already lost the best thing I ever had. But I’d rather take a thousand chances to show you I’ve changed than go back to pretending I don’t care.”

You didn’t answer; you didn’t have the words. But you turned slowly in his arms, your hands resting lightly on his chest, and he looked down at you like you were something fragile, something he was terrified of breaking again.

“Come on,” you said after a long moment. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

You brought him back to your place, not because everything was fixed, not because you’d forgiven him, but because you wanted to be warm and dry and maybe not alone tonight. You gave him a towel and made coffee the way you always used to—strong, with just a little bit of sugar because he never took milk.

You didn’t sit on opposite ends of the couch. You sat beside him. Close, but not touching. You talked for a while. About small things. Big things. He told you he started seeing a therapist. You told him about work. You both avoided talking about what would happen next.

For the next few weeks, it was like that. Texts. Calls. The occasional late night spent watching old movies without touching. He didn’t try to kiss you. Didn’t push. He just... showed up. And stayed.

And then one night, you were both laughing about something—some dumb story from years ago—and you turned to him, and he was already looking at you. Not with hunger or desperation, but with a much softer look.

You leaned in first.

Just a little.

And he met you halfway.

And when he kissed you, it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t like before. It was slow, and warm, and full of everything he hadn’t said and everything you hadn’t asked for. Like a promise he didn’t know how to make out loud, but was trying to anyway.

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself kiss him back.

He pulled back just a little, like he was giving you the space to change your mind, like he was scared you’d vanish if he touched you for too long. But you didn’t move. You just looked at him—really looked at him—and felt your heart beat so hard it hurt a little.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and rough around the edges.

You nodded, even though everything inside you felt scrambled and upside-down. “Yeah. I think I am.”

He smiled—barely—and brushed a thumb across your cheek like he was memorizing the feel of your skin. Then he sat back, but not far, not like he was pulling away completely. Just enough to give you space again. And you knew right then he wasn’t going to ruin this by rushing. He was trying, really trying, and you felt it in your chest like a weight slowly lifting.

You both stayed on the couch for a while after that, talking about nothing and everything, voices soft and close.

Eventually, it got late. You stood up to stretch, and he watched you, his gaze lingering on your face, not your body. Like he was trying to read your mood before he made a move.

“I should head out,” he said, standing slowly.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “You don’t have to.”

He looked at you, eyes flickering with surprise. “You sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just… don’t make it weird.”

He let out a breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

So he stayed.

You handed him an old T-shirt and a pair of sweats you forgot he left behind once, and he changed in the bathroom while you got into bed. And when he climbed in beside you, he didn’t touch you right away. He laid on his side, just close enough that you could feel the warmth of him under the covers.

“Do you want me to—” he started.

You reached for his hand under the blanket. “No talking now. Just stay.”

And he did.

You fell asleep to the sound of his breathing. Not tangled up like you used to be, not desperate for skin or heat. Just… close. Like two people learning how to be near each other again without breaking apart.

In the morning, you woke up before him.

For a moment, you just watched him sleep—his brow still furrowed a little, like even in rest he was carrying something heavy. You could see the edge of an old scar near his temple, one you never asked about, and you wondered how many more there were now. On his skin, in his mind.

You weren’t sure what would happen next. But for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He shifted a little, eyes fluttering open, and when he saw you, he smiled. That same small, quiet smile.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning.”

And when his lips found yours, it didn’t feel like a beginning or an ending—it just felt like finally coming home.

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

my girl @daydreamerwoah gave me an idea about the rain scene <33

@kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @hiraethvita @scaleniusrm @cosmic-sleep-demon @roastyyytoastyyy @salfetkablog

[lovelyghst]

soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.

it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.

he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.

and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.

he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.

simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.

he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.

he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.

dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.

and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.

would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.

simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.

your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.

“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”

and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.

“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.

you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.

he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.

“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”

you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.

he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.

he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.

“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”

(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)

[kiyinian]

Part one

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

Ex-husband Simon who: Didn't leave your side when you said you were pregnant, who went to see you every day, even if those visits were after his work, in the middle of the night.

Ex-husband Simon who: Made video calls to you when he couldn't show up at your house, talking to you and the children, asking you multiple times if you were okay. Most of the time he listened to you talk about your day, he listened until you fell asleep on the other side, and he watched you sleep for a while. When he saw that you were safe and well, he would whisper goodnight and I love you, hoping that you would somehow hear it.

Ex-husband Simon who: Always found a way to go to all your appointments, just as he had done with your other times when you were pregnant. Every month he would go with you for a check-up, he could even play the tough guy, but he couldn't hold back the tear that formed in the corner of his eye when he heard the little ones' heartbeat. His own flesh and blood.

Ex-husband Simon who: Cried his heart out when he found out he was going to be the father of two girls, feeling nervous at the same time. At the ultrasound, he held your hand so tightly, his other hand stroking your hair as you watched your girls. He couldn't have been happier, and even happier that you were carrying his children once again.

Ex-husband Simon who: Almost committed a traffic accident when one of your kids called him, the little one saying that you weren't feeling well. He drove as fast as he could to your house, his hands shaking as he went to look for you. It was even worse when he found you pale, almost falling to the ground, probably a drop in your pressure. But it was enough to keep him up all night.

Ex-husband Simon who: Wouldn't take no for an answer when you told him he didn't need to move in with you, that you could manage on your own. But how? A whole house to look after, children, pregnancy. No, it was too much. You didn't have to deal with it on your own when he was around. So despite your protests, the next day he showed up with his suitcases, ready to move in with you once again.

Ex-husband Simon who: Did everything in the house, he didn't let you lift a single weight, he didn't even allow you to spend much time walking back and forth. You were pregnant, getting bigger and bigger, all you had to do was relax. The rest he did without complaint. Although he did burn the food, most of the time.

Ex-husband Simon who: Never ignored your cravings, no matter if it was late at night, or early in the morning, he would buy you whatever you asked of him. Even if it meant going out in the middle of the night to buy some random flavor of ice cream, he didn't care, as long as he could see you satisfied.

Ex-husband Simon who: Bought all the baby's utensils together with you, from the crib to the clothes, bottles, pacifiers, whatever you wanted to buy, he would go with you, and pay for everything, of course. Always buying toys for your other children, too. And he'd always buy whatever you wanted or needed, he'd never forget you.

Ex-husband Simon who: Surprised you by preparing the babies' nursery with everything you had bought, he renovated an entire room to make it fit for the arrival of the girls, and he also made some changes to the little ones' room, giving it to them as a gift.

Ex-husband Simon who: Watched you every night, waiting for you to fall asleep, keeping a watchful eye in case you needed something, anything. He was willing to help you with simple things, even if you needed help going to the toilet, if you had a craving, he was there for you. Once he saw you already asleep, curled up in the sheets, cuddled up with your comforter, he would go over to you and give you a kiss on the forehead, whispering I love you, and silently praying that you would respond with an 'I do too'.

Ex-husband Simon who: Agreed to spend the whole night by your side, comforting you after you had a terrible nightmare involving the children. He lay next to you as you asked, gently wrapping his arms around you and hugging you, kissing you on the cheek and calming you down.

Ex-husband Simon who: Felt his heart skip a beat when you told him you loved him and needed him, and that you wanted him to move back in with you and the children permanently. You didn't have to ask him twice, because he was absolutely sure that he would come back to you whenever you wanted him to.

Ex-husband Simon who: Couldn't contain the urge to kiss you, to touch you, just hearing you say you loved him, was enough to ignite a hot flame in him. In a matter of seconds he had his hands all over you, once again claiming what was surely his.

Ex-husband Simon who: Slowly pushed you to the side, spooning you from behind, his lips on your neck as he slowly entered you, pampering you with little kisses here and there. He made love to you so gently, in such a loving way, thrusting into you nice and deep, just the way you liked it. He'd be fucked if he didn't make this night with you count, he did everything the way you loved it, just to hear you begging him for more and more. He wasn't going to let you out of his arms that night.

Ex-husband Simon who: Woke up before you, ready to make breakfast for you and the children, but all his plans went up in smoke when he heard you give a little gasp, whispering that your water broke. He panicked.

Ex-husband Simon who: Knew it was your third pregnancy, but he couldn't control the adrenaline when you went into labor, it was always like the first time. He didn't waste much time and took you to the hospital, praying to whatever God up there that everything would work out.

Ex-husband Simon who: Stayed by your side throughout your labor, holding your hand while whispering sweet words in your ear, he didn't care how hard you were squeezing his hand, it even hurt, but he wanted to do the best he could to help you. It was desperate that he couldn't do anything for you, but his ears focused on the sound of crying that echoed through the hospital room, the first girl had come out, healthy and well. After some more time, thank God, the other little one came out healthy too.

Ex-husband Simon who: Cried inconsolably while holding one of the girls in his arms, rocking her while looking at her with all the tenderness in the world. She was so beautiful, so reminiscent of you. His heart beat so fast as he saw one of his little girls, his little daughter. Just as he didn't leave your side, watching you breastfeed the other little one. He tried to stop himself from crying even more at the sight.

Ex-husband Simon who: He won't leave your side, ever, not even if you asked him to. Especially now that your family was even bigger, he knew the responsibility that would come with two small children, but he also knew that every night awake would be worth it. Just as he wouldn't give up until he put a ring on your finger once again.

[oceantornadoo]

your weighted blanket (simon riley x f!reader)

part of this two lieutenants series but it’s standalone

—

“you know what i want?”

“wha’?”

“a weighted blanket.”

simon turned away from his bedroom desk to stare at you, his dark eyes squinting incredulously.

“what?! i think it’d help me sleep.”

“wha’ the fuck is a weighted blanket.”

you huffed a sigh. “it’s literally a weighted blanket simon. having weight pressing down on you helps you sleep, it’s scientifically proven.” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you laid back on his bed.

turning off his desk lamp, he made his way to his bed. he joined you on top of the covers, giving you plenty of space. keeping it platonic. not that he wanted to, but that was another thing.

“can’t jus’ have some sop lay on you?” the words hurt coming out, but it was the only thing he could say. desperately looking for a sign that you were talking to someone as you were so tightlipped about your escapades until after they ended.

“i’m on a man break. they all suck.” no one measured up to the unending care simon gave you, even if he was just a friend. just a friend who lets you come into his room every night, talking yourself to sleep. just a friend who never forgets your favorite body wash or candle scent on supply runs.

“they don’t know how to treat a woman like you.” his words echoed in the dark, ideas of what they meant bouncing around in your brain. “a woman like me?” silence. “don’t be mean, si.”

fuck he was so stupid. needed to watch his tone better, like gaz was always telling him. “dove, jus’ meant a smart independent woman like yourself. yer lookin’ for a partner and they’re look for a mother or a fuck. or both.” your jaw dropped. “oh. thanks.” his words thickened the air. no one had ever talked about you like that, like you were something to be treasured, not kept. like he respected you.

“if you really need a weighted blanket i-“ “yeah?” you sounded too eager, but you didn’t care. you turned towards him, catching his eye in the gleam of the base lights outside his window. “could be yers. if you want. strictly platonic.” he scratched his head, looking away. embarrassed. “yeah, platonic. course, yeah. that’s fine. good, i mean.” you needed to get your act together and stop sounding like a teenager, but he just offered to be your blanket. surely that was more than platonic.

“now?”

“sure.”

you sat on his bed like a dead fish, arms at your sides. you were not about to initiate what surely would be the most awkward non-cuddle session in your life. simon pressed one large paw into the mattress, hauling his huge body up on one arm. he moved down farther on the bed, his head parallel to your ribs. then, with the uttermost care, he shifted on top of you, hovering. waiting. “you can lay on me si, it’s okay.” he released his hands slowly, the full force of his body laying on you. 250+ pounds of pure machine, a body honed from years in the military. a soldier, a sniper, a lieutenant, now at your mercy, body covering yours completely.

“not too weighted for you?” you giggled. an actual giggle from his fellow lieutenant. “no, si. not too weighted.” your hand instinctively went to his hair before you could stop yourself. “is this comfortable? you’re on my ribs.” he grunted. it actually hurt like a bitch, your bone pressing into him through layers of fat, but he was laying on you and therefore could not complain. “you can move up, i won’t mind.” well, if you were letting him. he wanted to make the most of this blanket situation, this type of intimacy so foreign to him.

simon scooted up your body and laid his head on your tits. built-in pillows, one might call them. you hand went to his hair again, slowly scratching his scalp. “this ok?” you never touched like this, had never touched him like something precious. he grunted, a yes in “ghost” as you liked to call it. you continued running your hand through his hair, surprised at the softness of his locks. his face was against your breast, and usually you’d be embarrassed, but lines had been crossed and all bets were off. his body was heavy, sure, but the weight of it was comforting. all you could think of was him, not the annoying recruit from this morning, not the bad dinner you had at the mess hall. only the smell of the base shampoo and his natural musk, something uniquely him but not gross.

all simon could hear was your heartbeat. it had quickened when he first laid down, but now it was slowing to a comforting beat. you were here, you were breathing. the gunfire and the smell of bombs in his head meant nothing as long as he had you like this, in his arms where no one could hurt you. he could feel your body relaxing, muscles losing the day’s tension and giving themselves over to sleep. as your breathing slowed and you moved to a lower, more comfortable position on his pillow, he knew time could stop and all that would matter was you, right here, with him.

--

[beloveds-embrace]

DUKEDOM!141 AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🙏🙏🙏🙏 (/nf please and thank you :])

Original post

Enjoy!! :D

Something all of them like to do is doll you up, and it becomes almost a private little routine between you and them.

John, as your husband (can you tell I love referring to him like this?), steadily takes control of deciding what you wear for the day even long before your request. It’s something that just… happens. He comes into your bedroom early in the mornings, and your maids scatter away to leave you both be with little giggles, excited at the prospect of you two finally getting ‘close’.

John doesn’t care for them. He greets you with a soft good morning (a few weeks later, he’d greet you the same but would gently caress your face with the back of his hand, the touch so gentle despite his roughened skin. It makes you into a blushing mess, though you tell yourself it’s just so that the peeking maids won’t suspect anything) and then goes straight to your closet, sweeping through the rows and rows of delicate, soft dresses with a discerning eye to select what attire you’ll wear for the day.

Of course, he does ask you what you feel like wearing, how you feel today in general, where you plan on going or meeting- everything to ensure the dress he’ll choose for you would be perfect. John doesn’t wait to see you in the dress, though.

He knows he’ll be seeing you all adorned and dressed up later, when you come down to dine with him. He can compliment you and pat himself on the back, then.

If he makes sure to match his cufflinks with the colors you are wearing, it will simply make whoever notice it think you two are such a lovely couple. And he still hopes that your maids will accidentally not tighten or cover up your hemline just so he can fix it himself for you.

John aside, Kyle takes care of your hair and jewelry. He makes you sit on the vanity, still alone and with none of your maids around, and then he begins the tender ritual of brushing your hair (if it’s not too curly for daily brushings). His hands, warm and careful and gentle, would then take care of oiling each strand. No oils or butters have been spared in the efforts of tending to you, and Kyle himself often turns the routine into a simple, but so effective, head massage session for you.

(Later, Kyle wonders what he needs to say and do to take over the job of the maids who help you bathe. You are always complimenting how good his hands feel on your hair, and he can show you how much better he is at using them for your body.)

Johnny eventually begins doing your makeup, on certain occasions. Once the truth comes out, the two of you are closer, and on one night, he tells you about his big family, his sisters and how they’d make him and his brothers help them get ready for events and parties.

It’s a simple question born out of your curiosity- what’s the makeup like where you were born, Johnny?- that has him in your bedroom often now, the other chefs taking care of the kitchen while his hands, clean and gentle, dab creams and whatnot on your face so delicately- like you are one of the cupacakes he decorates for your tea time.

He wants to kiss you so badly. You look so pretty like this, eyes closed and expression peaceful, patient and so trustful of his ministrations. He really, really wants to kiss you and see if the lipstick he’d applied on your pretty lips tastes as sweet as it smells.

Simon, though, is the one who slowly begins adding more and more to your dresses. John already supplies you with so much, but Simon is the one largely in charge of the silk and fabric importation and he knows well what styles will be popular next season, what styles will looks better on you and which colors suit you best. It’s not just dresses, but also matching fabrics and ribbons to go in your hair for when Kyle or your maids style, and for your pretty neck during more casual tea parties.

Not occasionally seeing you in the dresses he sends doesn’t bother him; you will be spoiling the others with the sight, and he can listen to them thank him in several ways afterwards and rest with the thought of you all dolled up, happy and thriving with them.

[tojisun]

the first time that biker!simon suggested that he drives you around on his bike, you were terrified to the point of declining his offer.

“i can’t,” you mumbled, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater, your lips downturned in genuine disappointment. “‘m sorry.”

you couldn’t meet his eyes, nervous that perhaps you’ve made him upset, but simon just took your hands on his – your small palms fitting snuggly against his gloved ones – and squeezed gently.

“you don’t have to apologize for anything, sweetheart,” simon replied, pulling you close until you were forced to tilt your head up to finally meet his gaze. you rove your eyes over his features, taking in the dimple of his cheeks as he gave you a smile, all boyish and breathtaking.

“don’t worry about it, yeah?” he asked before wrapping you in an embrace after seeing your hesitant nod.

he’s right, you know that. you shouldn’t have worried about it at all, but simon had always loved his bike. had always loved the thrill of the ride; the way the wind whipped against his skin or how the sounds of the road are intensified even with his helmet. you knew it was an irreplaceable experience so of course you truly couldn’t let go of his request.

it sat there on your mind every time he picked you up in his car, his harley tucked in the garage for the day. it curled around the crevices of your heart whenever simon kissed your temple before going out for a night ride with the boys.

“take care, okay?” you would say.

“always,” he would reply, kissing you on the lips again as though sealing his promise before pulling his helmet on and hopping onto his bike. he’d kiss the edges of his gloved knuckles where your initials lay then drive off.

it sat there in the pit of your stomach until one friday afternoon, you tugged onto his sleeve and whispered, “can i hitch a ride?”

the smile on simon’s lips was blinding and you couldn’t help the swoop of giddiness that filled you up when he snatched you from you stood, lifting you up before twirling you around the room.

“you sure you want this?” he asks now, blinking down at you as you fiddle with the zippers of your leather jacket. you look at simon, watching as he twirls your helmet in his hands, and even through his balaclava you can see how his face is pinched in doubt.

(you still can’t believe how simon had stowed away your very own helmet, murmuring how he got it as a valentines gift but decided to hide it when he saw just how hesitant you were when he made the offer.

“i was scared that if you saw i got you y’r own helmet, you would’ve felt pressured to agree to ride with me,” simon whispered, rubbing a thumb at the visor before shooting you a small smile. “stop pouting, love. i know you well, after all.”)

“never surer,” you say with a giggle before showing yourself off to him.

simon hums appreciatively, beautiful eyes narrowing in muted desire. “should see you in leather more, sweet girl. look how beautiful you are.”

you playfully swat at his arm in your embarrassment before standing still when simon lifts the helmet in his hands with a quiet beckoning. you let him fit it on you, your hair gathered in one of his hands and the other gently sliding the helmet on your head. all throughout, you watch the way his eyes crinkle in delight, his touch so reverent, and it makes you choke on the intensity of your love for this beautiful man.

he taps at the top of your visor when he is done, then he is stepping away to prep himself for the ride.

“c’mere, sweetheart,” he says when he is done. “y’got nothin’ to worry about, not w’me here.”

his words burn you, filling you up with encompassing warmth that tickles your cheeks and dips into your neck. you giggle as you shake off the last of your nerves before stepping close, hovering beside his harley, waiting for his instructions.

it wasn’t long or complicated by any chance, but you can see simon’s cautiousness shining through and that eases up your own worries.

there are things for you to remember, he says, things that would ensure your safety and his. and you take him seriously, nodding when he points at his bike and tells you where to prop your feet up, where to sit, where to hold. then, he holds your hands and says that you call all the shots; that if you want to stop, to squeeze his shoulder three times and he’s pulling over.

“this is all about you havin’ fun so don’t push y’rself, alright baby?” simon murmurs, ending his tirade.

then, he takes you for that promised ride.

you two planned to go to the park, just somewhere that’s far enough from your place but still within the expansive stretch of the city road’s smooth asphalt. he asked if you would’ve preferred the beach, but that was a two hour ride and you truly couldn’t handle anything that long. when you told him so, he laughed and kissed the top of your head and said, “then i’ve got the perfect place for you.”

the purr of the machine between your legs is unusual, if not a little bit weird. your grip on simon’s waist must be painful but you don’t have it in you to loosen up, especially not when the speed kicks up to match the traffic. you bite down a squeal when he makes a turn towards the highway, your stomach flipping when you physically feel the bike leaning to your side, almost like it’d fall anytime soon.

of course it doesn’t because simon’s a damn good driver but the adrenaline is coursing through you in waves, surprisingly dousing the fires of your anxiety and replacing it instead with a pooling elation because this feels so fucking good.

you don’t even realize that your hands have loosened their hold onto simon, gripping just enough not to fall. you lift your head from where it’s pressed on his back, tilting just enough to see past his bulk and to take in the dizzying colours of the trickling dawn. the wind is cool even with your jacket, and even though your helmet and visor is obscuring your nose, you take a deep inhale.

fuck. you might just get addicted to this.

the next time that simon swerves to exit the highway, you no longer bite down your squeal, letting it instead rumble from your throat and into the air. simon’s shoulders shake and you realize that he’s laughing, high from your reaction. you couldn’t help it but giggles flutter from your lips, full of the thrill of this experience.

the park comes to view soon and you pout, wanting to keep the drive going. but simon pulls over, parks, and only when the engine stops do you feel the numbness spreading through your legs.

“you doin’ okay over there, sweetheart?” simon asks, remaining seated, unable to stand with you still holding onto him.

“mhmm!” you reply. “i can’t stand up though.”

he barks out a laugh. “oh yeah. that might take a while.” he reaches behind him to rub at the sides of your thighs, massaging whatever he can reach.

you hum, rubbing your hand on his abdomen. “s’fine. ‘m not rushing.” you nuzzle your helmet on his back, falling into silence as you feel yourself unravel from the short experience. you breathe in deeply, the air fogging your visor, and say, “i loved that, si. thank you so much.”

simon’s hold on your thighs gain strength, squeezing gently. “of course, sweetheart.” you hear the happiness in his voice, breathless from his own rush of dopamine. “thank you for trusting me.”

“always, baby,” you reply, squeezing him again, muffling your giggles when you heard his surprised wheeze at the action. “i’ll always trust you.”

(ext.01) (ext.03) // mlist!

[cntloup]

intruders

husband!simon x wife!reader

i know im on a break but here's a lil smth hehe🤭🩷💫🌸

"get out through the backdoor!" Simon utters hurriedly, "and take this... just in case." he hands you the gun which he keeps under his pillow.

"i'm not gonna leave you!" you blurt out as you feel the tingle of tears behind your eyes, fearing the worst possible outcome.

"you have to! please just go! i'll take care of them!" he says in a hushed tone in order not to alert the intruders.

he reaches in his nightstand and grabs an envelope and hands it to you.

"here's all the information you need in case i'm gone." he says in a monotone manner, masking how he truly feels inside.

he's never put much value on his life, always focused to get the job done no matter the cost. until you appeared and swept him off his feet.

now he senses a churn in his stomach, utter fear gnawing at his heart, not for himself, but you. what would happen to you when he's gone?

you take the envelope with shaky hands, "simon, you mean...?" you ask, frightened out of your mind.

"yes. if i die, you'll know what to do." he responds, "please don't say that!" you plead, averting your gaze from him to hide your tears.

he embraces you tightly and kisses the crown of your head, "go!" he says and ushers you out of the bedroom, making sure the path is clear for you to head out back.

moments later, after throwing punches and slashing through flesh with sharply honed knives and bullets flying around, simon finds himself among five dead bodies and a pool of blood on the carpet.

just as he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, he hears the sound of a gunshot.

he's startled and filled with anxiety as he steps outside to see what happened, finding himself praying for the first time in his life that it's not you.

only then, he meets your terrified figure, shaking and eyes widened in sheer shock.

his eyes land on the blood splattered all over your shirt and you notice his anxious eyes, "it's not mine!" you say breathily, chest heaving as adrenaline courses heavily through your body.

in an instant, he runs towards you and engulfs you in his strong arms while letting out a sigh of relief, "i thought i lost you!" he murmurs in your hair, "can't get rid of me that easily, babe!" you say back with a low chuckle, though still trembling.

"i'll call price to help with the mess." he says, guiding you inside the house with an arm draped over your shoulders as you're still stuck in a state of lingering shock.

-----

"you looked so fuckin' sexy in that moment with the gun in your hand and blood all over you!" he says with a smirk as you cuddle on the couch days after the incident.

"yeah? you liked that?" you ask with a playful smile as your glinting eyes meet his.

"i'm proud of you! my wife is such a badass!" he says, a soft smile adorning his scarred lips and pure adoration dancing in his eyes as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

[nerdygirlramblings]

I have a vision

Like reader and John are married for god knows how long (probaly since he was just a Sergeant) so it's obvious that reader knows Ghost, or rather Simon since John is like a father to him.

So when John comes home after a rough mission, Simon is with him. Usually Simon would sleep on the couch or the guest room but this time it's different. He's on the edge of a breakdown and reader offers him to join them in bed for cuddles, John doesn't mind that.

It ends up with Simon bare and vulnerable and reader and John taking care of him

If you wanna include some smut it's your choice, you're the author

Also the gender of reader because Idc about that

Thank you for this ask! This one took a few different journeys in my head before we got here, but this is the version that felt right. I hope you enjoy the result!

an: I delved into asexuality here, but if I misportrayed the acespec experience, please lmk! This is a new space for me, and I want to get it right.

Simon's known you since before he made lieutenant. You've been Price's since forever. Simon likes you because his Captain loves you. Simon loves you because you support his and Price's relationship.

The first time it had happened, they'd been on base less than an hour, wrung out from the mission and staring down the barrel of after action reports. Price was sitting at his desk, paperwork splayed out and only half finished when Ghost had come in and nearly dropped from sheer exhaustion. He couldn't tell if the weariness was mental or physical or some combination of both, but Price served as a grounding force.

Price wasn't a mind reader but he was an expert in body language, and he'd taken one look at Ghost and known exactly what was wrong. He beckoned the younger man over. It took coaxing and a promise that things would be better to get Ghost to kneel at Price's feet and put his head in Price's lap. Price slid one hand off the paperwork he'd only been half-heartedly completing and ran it up under Ghost's mask, pulling the balaclava off. Thick fingers scrubbed through the sweaty hair and eventually began a light pet.

"You're safe here Simon. I've got you," he rumbled, voice gruff from the cigar on his desk. Simon's not sure how long they were there, Price's hand keeping him grounded while giving him the space to let go. It could have been seconds or days. All he knows is he had never felt as free as he did by the time Price roused him off his knees and shooed him back to his own paperwork.

After that, mission debriefs began including quiet time for Simon and his Captain where the older man would help the younger come back to himself. For someone as touched-starved as Simon had always been, Price's comfort was a blessing.

He doesn't remember what mission they'd come off of the night you found them, but he does recall the startled gasp you made when you walked in with dinner for your husband only to find him with another man in his lap. You'd only met the lieutenant once before. He couldn't, wouldn't, get between Price and you, but he didn't know how to find the strength to leave.

Thankfully, you kept an open mind. Let your husband explain that there was nothing sexual or even romantic to their relationship. Smiled at Simon as he stumbled through how it felt to not have to worry just for a little while. And, when all was said and done, opened your arms and beckoned Simon into them.

For years now your house has been Simon's safe place. He has his own bed in what you tell others is the guest room, but several years back you decorated it in Simon's favorite colors with little touches to help him feel grounded. The kitchen cupboard has his favorite tea, and the crisps he likes are always in the pantry. He has a key to the front door and knows he's always welcome no matter the time, so he thinks nothing of slipping in after midnight, finally back from a solo mission, his humanity hanging on by a thread.

Of course John hears the door the moment the lock rolls back on its tumblers, Simon's heavy tread carrying quietly in the still air. He tries to get out of bed without waking you, but you never sleep well when he's not there, so you notice immediately. Bleary eyes find his as he stands half in the doorway, says, "Simon's just got in. Going to go check on him."

You nod as John slips out of your room. He had given you what few details he could about Simon's mission while the other man was gone. You worried about him, how big a toll this would take on him. So moment after John leaves, you slowly climb out of bed, slip into your robe, quietly pad down the hall. You can hear your husband's low rumble and a sound that rocks you. Crying. You don't think it's John, the timbre's off, but despite hearing it, you struggle to believe Simon is crying.

You didn't believe there was anything that could ever make his lieutenant - the Ghost - cry.

You ease the door open, catching Simon so very human. Broken. Hunched over, head between his knees, hands clasped tight behind his neck. He's still in most of his gear. He must have come straight from transport. John rubs his hand up and down Simon's back, but the man barely reacts. He doesn't seem to realize John's there.

Both go suddenly still at the change in the air when you come into the room.

"Simon," you whisper. Like your husband, you want to comfort him. Unlike your husband, this isn't something you've offered before, not a comfort Simon's been allowed.

You kneel in front of him, gently reaching out for a boot. In the thin light from the window, deft fingers pick apart knots so the boots are easier to slip off. First one then the other thuds to the floor behind you. You run gentle hands up his chest, unclipping the tac vest. John pulls it off Simon's shoulders. Shirt and trousers follow, the two of you working seamlessly, silently to help Simon shed Ghost. When he's down to just his pants, you slip your fingers under the edge of his mask.

"Is this okay?" Your whisper feels like a shout in the darkness.

Simon grunts and dips his chin further into your palm. You take it as permission, pulling the knit up and off. Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you run your thumb through the eye black. You can't say what possesses you to do it, but you lean forward and drop little kisses on Simon's eyelids.

When they flutter open, it's like seeing directly into Simon's soul. The brown cracked with pain and desperation. A fear too big to name.

You stand, reaching one hand down to John and the other to Simon. John comes willingly, no questions. Simon needs reassurance. "It's okay, Simon. You're safe here. We've got you," you tell him. You have no idea how much you sound like John did all those years ago. It's that echo alone that allows Simon to follow you back to the room you share with his Captain.

John understands your intent immediately, ushering first you then Simon into the bed. You slide into your usual space against the wall, holding the covers up as Simon stiffly joins you. He lays on his back, ramrod straight, as John sinks into the mattress on his other side. The hand next to Simon fumbles a moment, finding his, and interlacing your fingers together. Your other hand comes to rest on Simon's chest. You curl towards John and he towards you, one hand covering yours over Simon's heart. You breathe slowly, pressing the rhythm ever so slightly into Simon's lungs.

Tension is thick for a moment. Two. Three. By ten, Simon is breathing in time with you, shuddering as silent tears slip out. Lips brush his cheek as you whisper again, "We've got you."

You do. And he knows in his bones you always will.

main masterlist

[chamomiletealeaf]

Lying awake thinking about babying Simon. I need to take care of him when he comes home from work, make him forget he exists lmfao. Sweet baby boy, ugh 😭 give him the sloppiest head of course 🤲🏻 I want HIM dependent on ME HSHSBWJWFJSN exploding sorry omg uggghhhh

I think about this every day anon omg…

Warnings: sub! Simon, very slight mommy kink (mentioned once), a really sloppy, gross, messy blow job, things I would never do for a man in real life unless it was Simon, Simon begging and pleading, slight choking, little bit of edging, reader just wants to take care of Simon

He’d come home from training recruits on base. A pout on his face every time he did exhausted from the energy it takes to put those rookies in place.

He trudges in through the door where you stand in the kitchen cooking his favorite meal, some assortment of steak, potatoes, and veggies, knowing he’d be at base longer than usual today.

You turn to him as he sets his bags down, turning down the heat on the stove and running up to meet him.

“Hi baby!” You say enthusiastically.

You grab his face, kissing him all over his cheeks, nose, jawline, wherever you could reach, and finally kissing his lips where he sighs and releases some tension he has built up from the stresses of today.

“Hi love.” He says with a tired smile. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too baby. Come on sit down honey I made you some food.” You say, helping him take off his jacket.

“Oh love I got it. Thank you.” He protests.

“Uh-uh, you’ve been working so hard recently the least I can do is help you take your jacket off honey.” You say, making him laugh.

He sits down at the table, relenting to your advances attempting to make him feel as comfortable as possible.

You see he still has eye black stained over his eyes and you click your tongue in disapproval.

“Oh honey you got your eye black on still.” You say from the kitchen.

“Yeah I’ll wash it off later.” He says, matter of factly.

Without a word you turn the stove down and make your way to the bathroom. You come out with some micellar water and cotton pads and stand next to Simon who sits at the table.

He looks at you, puzzled, until you reach out to lift his chin towards you.

“C’mon, up.” You grip his jaw lightly to angle his head up towards you to remove the eye black off his face with the cotton pads.

"What y'doin?" He asks, pulling his head back.

You pout when he pulls back

"I'm helping you baby." You say softly, as if he said something mean to you and he immediately regrets it.

Simon unfurrows his brows and reaches out to you, pulling you into his lap.

"I'm sorry love. Go ahead. Thank you." He says with a smile, trying to make you feel better. After all, you just wanted to take care of him after such a long tiresome day.

You straddle his hips and he runs his hands up your thighs, keeping them there.

You grip his jaw lightly again as you use the cotton pad over his eyes.

"Close your eyes honey." You say, and then swipe the micellar water soaked pad over his eyes, removing the eye black.

"There you go. Isn't that better?" You ask.

"Mm. Much better lovie. Thank you." He responds, smiling at you like you've just saved his life. And in a way you did, in more ways than one.

You lean in to kiss him and he kisses you back. It's soft and sweet and overdue. Just what he needs after a long long day.

You kiss him again and start to run your hands through his hair, deepening the kiss.

You cradle the side of his head with one hand as you kiss down his jaw, making him sigh in content. You move your lips and tongue along his jaw until you suck on his pulse point, making him moan.

"Mmm. Fuck baby. You know that's my spot." He chuckles, eyes closing with the pleasure.

You giggle, continuing kissing him all over until you make your way down.

Down over his chest, his stomach, licking over his happy train, until you lean your head on one of his thighs looking up at him innocently with a smile.

He laughs again, seeing where this is going.

"Now what are you up to little miss?" He accuses.

"Just wanna make you feel good honey. My big strong man been working so hard all day. Wanna show him how much I appreciate him." You tease, rubbing your face against his inner thigh covered by his work jeans you love on him so much.

"Aw dovey, you done more than enough for me. Don't have to if you don't wanna." He reaches down to brush his knuckles against your cheek, admiring your pretty face.

"I just said I want to." You said deeper, more seductively, making Simon raise his eyebrows a bit, catching him off guard from your sweet giggly demeanor from a second ago.

"Wanna make my sweet boy forget he exists. Been workin' so hard. Comin' home all tired and pouty needing mommy's warm mouth around his pretty fucking cock."

You rub your face against the growing bulge in Simon's pants, watching as his cheeks turn red from the sudden dominance you're now exuding.

"C'mon baby. Let me take care of you hm?" You beg him with your puppy dog eyes that he just can't resist and he nods his head.

"Mhm. Yeah. Of course. Please." He whispers breathlessly, his response coming out weaker than he intended.

You stand up and he looks up at you confused. Weren't you just about to suck him off?

"C'mon to the couch. Want my handsome man to be comfortable while I make him cum in my mouth." You say, pushing him down to sit on the couch.

He looks up at you speechless. You've never been this dominant before and he fucking loves it. He's always been so on guard, looking over his shoulder and after everyone every 3 seconds. It was so nice to just be. Especially when his pretty little girlfriend was about to give him the best blowjob he's ever had.

You kneel between his legs as you run your hands up his thighs to grab at his belt buckle.

"There. You comfortable baby?" You ask, and he nods, his eyes now half lidded with his lips parted. He's already looking fucked out and you haven't even touched him yet. So cute.

"Mm. Good." You hum in approval.

"Now. You gonna let me make you feel good? Gonna let me help you finally relax baby?" You ask, watching how he adjusts his hips, pushing up against your hands and how his breaths get shallower.

"Yes. Please. Fuck love I need it." He says with a breathless laugh.

You smile and start to unbuckle his belt, zipping the zipper down with your teeth while maintaining eye contact.

Simons moans at the sight.

You pull his jeans and boxers down just enough to pull him out and pump him a few times, making him throw his head back.

"God fuck." He grunts.

You laugh. "That's it baby just relax."

You spit on his fat tip before wrapping your lips around it, suckling him lightly.

He hisses and grips your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

"Fuck." He strains out.

You start to sink further down his shaft slowly, making sure he feels your mouth take his thick cock as far as you could.

You take him further and further until you gag, making him smile and chuckle darkly with his eyes still closed and head still thrown back.

He looks down at you with a sly smirk, knowing that he was still too much to take all the way.

With his cock in your mouth, you furrow your brows and reach up with one hand to grip his jaw and push, forcing his head back against the couch.

He moans at the action, loving how you take control again.

You remove your hand and wrap it back around his shaft. You were determined to make this man cum and wipe that smirk off his face until the only thing on it was pure bliss.

You start to suck faster and deeper, your hand moving along his shaft to swipe at his slit making his hips jerk.

"Fuck just like that baby." He moans, head tilting back down to watch you.

You look up at him making eye contact while you suck him off, drool starting to drip down over your hands as you gagged and slurped around his cock.

Nice and messy. Just the way he likes it.

You bob your head faster, eyes beginning to water as his cock hit the back of your throat making you gag.

You take him down as far as you can and hold it, your throat contracting around him while you sputter making him moan loudly.

You pulled up for air, coughing and gasping while you smiled. Simon was a fucking mess already. He finally let go and let himself moan like that. Loud and unfiltered. Just the way you liked it.

But, you could "fuck him out" further.

You continue to pump him, smearing your spit and his pre cum all over until it dripped over your fingers and his thighs.

"See? Isn't this nice honey? So much better than being all stressed out on base all day huh." You mock pity with a pout.

Simon nods, panting, needing more.

"S- so much fucking better. God you don't even know love." He whines.

"Hmm. Can make it better though." You say to yourself, and you wrap your lips around him again, really starting to suck him down, practically making him throat fuck you.

You continue to twist your wrists around what you couldn't fit, occasionally thumbing his slit while you gave him the messiest, sloppiest, dirtiest blowjob of his fucking life.

He grunts and moans, thrusting his hips up and gripping your hair tighter in his fist. Every time he jerks his hips you push them back down, wanting to stay in control.

"Fuck. Oh my god lovie yeah. Just like that. Fuck please don't stop. Keep going please. Fuck don't stop. Please. Need it- love how fucking sloppy you are with it. Yeah that's it. Please-please- gonna cum- fuck" He rambles on and on, voice getting higher pitched and whinier with each word and you practically have to press your hands as hard as you can into his hips to keep them from jerking up, your tits sitting all pretty and squished between his thighs, drool coating them as well.

Then, all of a sudden, you quickly pull your mouth off of Simon. Making him gasp.

"Wh- what-" He starts, watching as you move to straddle his thigh, one hand wrapped around his cock and the other around his throat.

You press your cheek against his as you jerk him off, looking down at where you stroke him. Your other hand squeezes just tight enough around his throat to make him roll his eyes back in pleasure.

"C'mon honey beg for it." You say. "Beg me to make you cum. Admit you need it." You begin to grind against his thigh, leaving a wet patch on his jeans.

"P-please. I need it. Need it so bad. Need you so bad." He whines.

"Yeah? Been working too hard? Just needed my nice warm mouth wrapped snugly around this fucking cock hm? Make you dumb?" You tease.

"Yes- God yes need you to make me not think. Wanna forget I exist. Please fuck make me cum. Put me back in your mouth please wanna cum in your mouth." He rambles. He's so fucked out that you can't tell if he's talking to you or to himself. But you don't care. You've acheived your goal.

Well, almost.

You remove your hand from his cock and bring it to squish his cheeks together.

"Ooh that's a good fucking boy. Don't you worry baby I'll make you cum good." You coo.

You quickly resort back to your previous position between his legs, and you both maintain eye contact again as you drool around his cock, sucking and slurping him like he's the last popsicle on earth on the hottest summer day.

You can't believe how fucking messy it is. His jeans are now a shade darker around his crotch from the drool dripping onto it and all over your face and hands, and your fingers are practically pruning from the moisture of your spit. His cock glistening from it while your mouth makes obscene slurping and gagging noises.

And it's so hot.

"Fuck- I'm cumming. Yeah just like that. Please- Fuck-" Simon whimpers, and he cums in your mouth with a moan as he throws his head back.

He tries to thrust his hips up but you shove them back down, letting his cum leak out of your mouth and onto your tits while you continue to suck him dry.

You hum around him and roll your eyes back in approval and pleasure as you feel his warm cum fill your mouth.

After he comes down, you pull off of his cock with a pop noise.

You smile up at him panting. Your face, tits, and hands covered in spit and cum.

He smiles back down at you, also panting, as he cradles your face, smearing the mess on your mouth around your lips with his thumb.

"I love you so much y/n." Simon says.

"I love you too Simon." You respond.

"Look so fuckin' gorgeous." He says, and you giggle.

"You look so handsome when you cum. Didn't realize you blush when you do though." You say teasingly, and Simon laughs, turning his head embarrassed.

You reach for a towel from the laundry you just folded earlier on the couch to clean the two of you up.

After you're both clean enough. You climb into his lap, straddling him again while you hold his head in your hands.

"Just want you to relax a bit. Always so stressed. Need my handsome boy to feel good every now and then." You say before kissing him softly.

"I always feel good when I'm with you love." He smiles. "Now. How about that dinner. I'll heat it up for us. You've done enough."

"Uh uh. You go sit at that table. I'm not done spoiling you yet." You say with a smile as you get up.

Simon cannot believe how he ever got so lucky.

[beelzecxi]

“Cause’ I know if I’m haunting you, you must be haunting me.”

Synopsis: From the moment he laid eyes on you, you became all he could think about. It was like all of his senses were consumed by you.

Tags- Stalker! Simon Riley! x male reader! NSFW! Fem-aligned DNI! MDNI! Soft-top Riley! Reader gets called princess! Dubcon! kidnapping! Creampie! Subspace! Oral fixation! Lack of lubricant!

A/n: This is hella fucking rushed

He’s been watching you for what feels like his entire life. From the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew that you were his. He remembers that day like it was yesterday. He remembers your clothes that clung to your form, the way your hair looked like you had just gotten out of the shower— granted, it was raining that day, but God. He gets a boner just thinking about it, about you. That terrified look you had in your eye when you looked at him; it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. I mean, he’s seen people with that look a million times.

In his line of work, it’s a given to have someone beg for their life. He wants to see you like that. Not begging for your life, he would never do anything to hurt you. He wants to see you beg for him. Hell, he needs it. The need to make you his is what pushed him this far. He was managing his obsession with you just fine until that random nobody dared to flirt with you. That was when he realized he needed to take you far away from the people who could potentially take you from him. Who cares if you don’t even know who he is? You’re his, and that’s final.

And now you’re here, snuggling further into his embrace. You don’t even realize it; you probably think he’s one of your plushies for something. Who would’ve known that your plushie obsession would work out in his favor?

Sure, you’d probably be scared out of your mind when you woke up, but that’s not going to stop him from enjoying every minute of this. Though going off the bulge in his pants, he’s enjoying it way too much. It’s not like he can help it; you’re just too cute, you’re soft in all the right places, and your waist just fits so perfectly in his hands that he could probably just use you like a fleshlight and— okay, this way of thinking is not helping his boner.

Though the way you’re looking at him isn’t helping either— wait… you’re looking at him. Ah, you’re awake already? Just as he was starting to enjoy this.

Good morning, princess,” he greets, the pet name rolling off his tongue before he can stop it. He knows you’re terrified; that much is a given. Plus, you look like you’re about five seconds away from pissing yourself, which… is not necessarily a lie.

You did wake up in an unknown place wrapped up with an unknown man, a very sexy unknown man… but as sexy as he is, it’s fucking creepy! You know for a fact you fell asleep in your room, in your bed, but here you are, in a room unknown to you and a bed that is not yours. Not to mention there’s something poking you! ‘Wait— is it his? No! Of course, it isn’t, right?’ you ponder, glancing down between you and the man.

“ It is!!’ you whimper, jerking your body away from him. “G-Get that MONSTER AWAY FROM ME!” You whine, backing up against the wall. Your panic, however, seems to be very amusing to your kidnapper. “Monster, you say? Is it that big?” He chuckles, wrapping his hand around your ankle, stopping you from getting too far away from him. “L-Let me go,” you stammer, trying to yank your leg from his grip, though this just made him tighten his grip.

“Why would I do that?” He asked, dragging you back to him. “Why would I ever let you go when I just got you?” he queried, wrapping his arms around you. “Why would I let you go when I can finally hold you in my arms?” He finishes, staring into your fucking soul.

‘WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS GUY?’ you wonder, not out loud for obvious reasons, but jeez, you don’t even know each other, but he’s making it sound like you’re fucking soulmates. It’s flattering, coming from someone as hot as him, but it’s still creepy as fuck. “Hi, I don’t know if you know this, but we do not— I repeat, do not know each other,” you tell him, trying (and failing) to get out of his grip.

“Trust me, I would remember meeting someone as hot as you,” you squeal out before being smothered into his manboobs, “I wouldn’t expect you to remember me, we met rather briefly,” he speaks in that husky voice of his, that voice could make the hardest of men drop to their knees in order to please him. ‘God, I could probably cum from hearing him speak alone.’ You tell yourself, and you could, but you’d probably get all whiny, and then he’d know.

He’d know that you were being dirty and thinking filthy, debouched things from his voice alone. “ You bumped into me. It was raining, and you were in a rush. Maybe you were just trying to get out of the rain, or maybe it was something else. But from that moment on; I knew you were destined to be mine.” he whispers, brushing his thumb against your forearm.

‘Yeah, he’s insane…is it just me, or are all the hot ones always fucking mental?’ you ask yourself, though I feel like you’re the mental one if you’re talking to yourself. “Dude, why would you remember me bumping into you?” you asked, confuzzled by the thought.

You remembered that day as well, not by choice; if you could, you’d wipe that bastard memory from your mind. That memory was so embarrassing to think about, why did you have to fall on your ass so hard after bumping into one man? Just why?

“I can’t control what I remember; I also cannot control the way I feel for you… I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I’m still not letting you go. I’ll never let you go,” he assured you, his eyes darkening. “As flattering as that is, I don’t even know your name, dude.” You remind him, raising your eyebrow at him as you wait for his next move.

“ Simon Riley,” he whispers, leaning towards you, or should I say your lips? Who cares? “Remember it, that’s what you’re going to be screaming tonight.” He teases, connecting your lips together. And for a moment, you believe that he was right about that soulmate shit, and even if he wasn’t, who cares?

He kisses like he’s pouring his soul into it, and by the gods— it leaves you craving more. It’s like he just scratched an itch you didn’t know you had, but not that it was scratched it won’t stop itching. What even is breathing at this point? Unpopular opinion, but breathing is extremely overrated.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters against your lips before pulling away, and you may or may not have let out a whine… not that you’d admit to it if you did.

“You’re playing with fire, princess,” he teases, trailing his hands down to your hips, digging his thumbs into the flesh there, praying for it to bruise. “Why do you keep calling them that? I have a cock, you know.” you pant out, whining softly at the harsh grip on your hips. “I’m well aware,” he pauses, leaning down to nibble along your neck, stopping just below your ear before whispering out, “Princess.” in that annoyingly sexy voice of his.

“Then stop calling me that, I don’t like it” you whine out, trying (and failing, a repeating pattern, it seems) to get away from him. “Really?” Simon questions, trailing his left hand down to the bulge in your underwear, “what’s this then?” he queries, his voice laced with humor, as he rubs you through your underwear.

“S-stop that,” you moan out, though your actions say otherwise; rolling your hips into his hand to chase your own pleasure. “Do you really want me to? It doesn’t seem like it… but… if you want—“ Riley says, moving his hand away from your cock, “Nononononono,” you whine, reaching down and grabbing his hand, placing it back where it was. “Please— please, just— just touch me.” You beg, before immediately getting embarrassed at yourself; sure, the guy is fucking hot, like his body is so tea that the British are coming… well, the British are already here technically… but begging like this… to your kidnapper?

God, that is a new low. Sure, you haven’t had sex in months, not that you didn’t want to, but you always felt like someone was just glaring at you every time you tried. Now that you think about it… it was him, wasn’t it? ‘This entire time… I had a STALKER?’ You think to yourself, sure you’re banging, like you’d stalk yourself if you could; but that doesn’t mean you’d expect to have an actual stalker, and a fucking hot one at that?

‘You know what? I’m just gonna enjoy this, the embarrassment to come it future me’s problem,’ you think once again, stop thinking just turn off your brain and enjoy this; you won’t regret it, trust me. “Touch me,” you whine out once more, rolling your hips into his hand before putting on your best doe eyes, “please.”

“Jesus,” you heard him groan, and that’s when you knew— you’d won at life, Simon’s blue eyes were laser-focused on you, the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know; you were about to be wrecked.

And for once you decided to not complain, just think of it as a one-night stand, and after this, your standards will probably be through the roof, but then again the guy did say he’s never letting you go so soon; shout out to getting your organs rearranged daily!

At first, he doesn’t move, just stares at you like he’s savoring the moment or waiting for you to get cold feet and change your mind; then he strikes. His hand, warm and calloused, hooks onto the band of your underwear and yanks, pulling them down to your knees: at first, you jump, the cold air against your heated skin isn’t exactly pleasant, but then— omg, then he wraps his hand around your shaft, and fuck it’s the best thing ever, and then he starts moving his hand and— “Feels so good, ohmygod, pleasepleaseplease” you slur or whine? The only thing I know is that you’re desperate, desperate for any part of that blue-eyed blondie you can get.

“Be patient,” he breathes out. God, his voice alone has your eyes rolling back into your head and toes curling and— “suck,” he gruffs out, holding two fingers in front of your mouth, and maybe it was the desperation, or maybe it was— okay, let’s be honest it was the desperation. Still, without any hesitation, you took his fingers into your mouth and sucked on them like your life depended on it. Though, to be frank, in the moment, it seemed like it did.

You made sure to get them nicely lubricated with your slobber, mostly because you didn’t want to tear anything down there, but also because you liked it, no scratch that you loved it. The feeling of something in your mouth always manages to bring you a strange sense of calm, and well, even now, when your dick felt like it was gonna explode, it still managed to lure you into an intoxicating headspace.

“You went down quicker than I expected,” Simeon says, taking his fingers out of your mouth, chuckling when you chased them, a whine falling from your lips. “Relax, here comes the fun part,” he mutters, lifting your leg onto his hip, “woah, wish you could see how pretty your hole is, darling,” he whistles, teasing your hole with his thumb, groaning softly at the whimper it excites out of you.

The moment his finger breached your hole, your body went lax, a moan escaping from you. “So, good,” you slur, pushing your hips down onto his finger. “It only gets better,” Simon mutters, adding another finger, scissoring your hole like a man on a mission. “Si, more, please,” you beg, putting on your best puppy eyes as you lie there with your leg over his hip.

“Are you sure?” He asked, worried. He didn’t want to hurt you. You are his most prized possession, especially with the lack of lubricant. The thought of accidentally tearing you was terrifying. That would give you a reason to hate him, and he only wants to give you a reason to love him and only him; the same way he loves you.

“Simon, please,” you whine, using your leg to pull him in. “I want you in me, and I want you in me now.” You tell him, your voice laced with high amounts of desperation. He listens, as much as he doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s been dying to be inside you for what feels like a million years, with no further resistance, he removes his fingers, hooking them to make sure they tease your prostate on the way out.

Grinning at the high-pitched whine that escapes you, “Don’t worry, princess, you’ll be filled in just a moment,” Riley assures, tapping the tip of his cock to your hole and slowly, hella slowly, pushed in. The moment he did, it was like all of your prayers were answered, it was like his cock was made to be inside you, to keep you filled. “Fuck—“ he groans, right into your ear when he bottoms out, and that went straight to your cock, if the extremely loud moan you let out was anything to go by.

“ Si-Si-Si” you beg, rolling your hips against his whimpering when he digs his thumbs into your hips in response, “Stay still. Let me take care of you, princess.” he huffs, placing his left hand above your head, pulling back til only his tip remained, and thrusting back in, rather harshly.

Not that you care, right now all you feel is SimonSimonSimon, and his cock, fucking hell, it feels so good. It hits all the right places so perfectly you don’t ever want to live without it in you. The thought alone is enough to make you want to cry, and you are, but for different reasons.

The curve of his cock makes sure that it rubs against your prostate with remarkable precession, Jesus fuck.

“Perfect, you’re absolutely perfect.” Simon praises, speeding his thrusts up as he hunches over you. “It’s like you were made to fit on my cock.” He grins, he was right; he can use you like a fleshlight and use you like you were always meant to be used.

Your whines and whimpers are like music to his ears; the way the pitch of your voice changes depending on the slightest change in his speed or angle. He knew you were perfect, but this was way beyond his expectations at this point you were borderline godly.

The way your hole sucked him in and clung to him when he pulled out and how your leg tightened on his hip in fear that he’d pull out and leave you open and empty. “I gotta cum,” you whine, reaching a hand down towards your cock only to have it slapped away, “don’t,” he commands, his tone leaves no room for objection. “You’ll cum if I make you,” He tells you, his thrusts getting harder and faster until they were almost animalistic.

“Si, please. Touch me,” you plead, whimpering from the stimulation your prostate is getting. “Please touch my cock!” You whine, signing in relief when your pleas were answered, for how callous his hands are they feel so good around your cock, all it takes is two strokes and you’re cumming like a virgin in his hand, clenching around his cock so tightly that he almost immediately followed after you.

“Shit!” He yelps, fucking you through your releases, chuckling at your whines of overstimulation. “Don’t worry, princess, we still have a full night ahead of us.”

“I said I wasn’t letting you go, didn’t I?”

-

A/n: the loml wants a pt.2 so pt.2 coming soon

[bunny-jpeg]

three parts of a whole

simon 'ghost' riley & john 'soap' mactavish

cw: smut/pwp, threesome, girlfriend!reader, unprotected sex, innocent!reader, size kink/difference, eventual polyam relationship (yay), accidental pregnancy , oral sex (simon receives), reverse cowgirl, couch sex

dating simon meant dating johnny. johnny was loyal to a fault and a great friend. simon honestly felt bad for him, even though he had looks that could kill and a winning personality, it felt like the world of dating apps were stacked against him!

"all the best ones are behind a paywall, johnny." simon assured him once. that was what you had told simon.

you and simon met at the grocery store when you overestimated your strength and tried to pick up a rather large watermelon to enjoy with the summer heat and dropped it mere inches away from simon's foot. the fruit exploded and you offered to pay for cleaning his shoes!

but instead he asked for your number and have been a pair ever since. you were a good sport too, a little on the innocent side with those pouty lips and little spatial awareness when you were out in public. you wanted to see johnny happy too!

so, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that after the three of you had dinner at the flat you and simon shared, that it would result in the three of you making out in the living room.

it didn't help that the three of you were sharing a lovely bottle of wine that simon brought back from a mission in france. by the time dinner ended, you were laughing as you were trying to pour the last bit of wine in johnny's mouth. which ended with both men kissing at you.

"ain't she a treat, johnny." simon laughed.

"oh yeah, si. she feels real good. wonder what that pussy must feel like." johnny replied, his words hot in your ear.

their large hands on you as they tried to get rid of the clothes you were wearing. your pussy felt wet in your panties as simon's slowly took off the shorts you were wearing followed by johnny taking off your shirt. you in turn carefully got both men undressed.

simon sat on the couch with his legs open, you between them doing a reverse cowgirl on johnny, who's face was in your neck. it was an odd arrangement, but no one was going without.

johnny's rough hands felt good on your soft hips. as did his cock nestled in you.

"better treat 'er good, johnny." simon said, "remember the only other person she's been with is me. i think i set the bar pretty high."

you rubbed your face against simon's exposed cock and looked up at him, "si, don't gloat. not nice." you pouted at him for a brief moment before you kissed the slick tip of his cock.

his hand went in your hair as he cooed, "of course, love. now you take good of our guest for the evenin'. don't want him to go home without a story to bring with him."

you nodded eagaerly, like a good little puppy. then placed your mouth on his cock and started to move your hips up and down johnny's cock while you sucked your boyfriend's cock.

you used simons' strong thighs to steady yourself as you worked their cocks. the feeling left you hot all over. you wanted to do right by both men, have them earn their fill.

they were so much bigger than you, in every sense of the word. simon always said that he could easily break you if he wasn't careful. but now you had two cock's inside of you from two bulky men who'd love nothing more than to cream in your sweet holes.

fill you up nice and good with a striking reminder of them.

you aimed to please, that was what simon taught you when you first started to get intimate. of course, they'd take care of you in return. to have both cocks bullied inside of you felt good. it made something flutter in your stomach.

"such a good lass." johnny groaned, "holy shit. you've been hidin' 'er for too long there, simon." his hands clutched onto your hips.

"ain't sharin' with everyone, johnny. she still mine, remember."

johnny chuckled and kissed at your neck, "how about she's both of ours?" you moaned against his touch which only excited him more. his hands soon went north to your breasts and toyed with them.

simon looked at johnny and said, "don't get cocky, sargent."

"never, l.t. now while our girl is snug on my cock." he pushed a little harder.

"yeah, next time you can eat 'er out after i finish in her." simon warned. the idea made both of you moan and he added, "insatiable, the likes of ya." then pushed your mouth further on his cock. he loved his sweet girl's throat, he also loved your pussy, your ass, your small hands, the space between your breasts. he even loved when you delicately nuzzled his cock.

he had taught you enough about sex that you were always a box of surprises. he watched you pleasure him and ride johnny. johnny looked almost blissed out by the entire thing. simon guessed that johnny hadn't even had his cock wet in a while.

simon held your head as he thrusted into your throat, egged on by your moans. you felt so perfect around him and he knew that johnny felt the same. pretty little thing.

the three of you rutted against one another. the sloppy sounds of sex filled the air. but the men you were pleasuring were starting to feel close to their climaxes.

therefore, their grips on you became tighter. they were egged on by your sweet muffled noises. johnny was really seeing hearts in his eyes at the sight of you.

a sweet cook, a sweet girlfriend, a sweet fuck.

simon lucked out,and johnny guessed he did too.

"here is comes, bonnie." the scotsman groaned as his thrusts became more erratic.

simon chuckled and looked down at you, "he's got quite the mouth on him." and held your face. you looked back at him and smiled through the daze of your lust.

you lucked out.

both men quickly came in you as you really worked johnny's cock to achieve your own orgasm. you rested against your boyfriend's thigh and panted, the taste of his cum in your mouth as you worked the scotman's cock. you came on johnny's cock even as he was growing soft.

with simon's swimmers down your throat and johnny's in your cervix. you felt elated and hot all over. but you didn't notice the look in simon's eye as he picked you up off of johnny's cock and placed you on top of his. the stretch once more made you cunt ache.

it was going to be a long, long night.

-

months later, johnny never really went home. physically he went back to his flat only a street over. but he was always over after that. especially now that you ended up pregnant.

the night the three of you spent resulted in an accidental pregnancy. the problem was that none of you knew who the father was. both simon and johnny finished inside you more than once that evening. so of course johnny was going to take full responsibility, and moved all of his stuff into the flat you and simon shared.

currently you were getting simon to check the temperature of the lamb in the oven because you were at a point in your pregnancy that neither you nor the wee lad inside you liked when you were bent over for too long. johnny was mashing the potatoes and earned a stern look from you when he tried to have a little bit of it.

"johnny."

"sorry, bonnie." he grinned. he could hear simon chuckle.

johnny didn't need to worry about apps anymore, or awkward first dates. he got to come home to a nice home with two happy partners and a baby on the way.

and sure, if the baby was simon's in the end, it just meant that the next one would be johnny's! <3

[lalalychee-x]

Embarrassing turn on —COD x reader

★ Full fic links are available! May or not be released, but they ARE being worked on!! MAN, I HAD A THOUGHT. I HAVE THINKED A THOUGHT so let me share COD MEN (and Valeria my wife)'s EMBARRASSING TURN ONS!... included: Ghost, Soap, Konig, Valeria, Graves, Alejandro CW: SFW & NSFW mix... afab reader due to use of "cunt" but you can read it however you like tbh! tiny implied hint of feeling sleepy, size difference, arguments, use of "sir", mention of "daddy" (not ddlg), COD tumblr needs its own tw tbh,,,

--- ★ GHOST! is a stoic, self-controlled man. He’s seen it all, done it all—until you mumble his name in that half-asleep, dazed little voice.

It happens one night when he gets into bed late. You’re already knocked out, curled up, warm and soft and safe. He tries to move carefully, but his weight shifts the mattress, and you stir—just barely.

"Mmm… Simon…?"

Your voice is husky, slurred with sleep, confused but trusting. And fuck—something about it makes his stomach drop. His breath hitches, body tensing.

You’re not even fully awake. You just blindly reach for him, pressing against him like instinct. He loves it, loves the fact that someone wants and needs him. And suddenly? He’s way too aware of how easy it’d be to pull you closer, bury his face in your neck, feel you melt into him.

Or how easy it would be to pull you over and slide your sweet cunt onto his throbbing cock and—

And that’s when he realizes—he’s bricked up over this. Over your sleepy, vulnerable little voice. Over the fact that you reach for him like he belongs there in that clumsy way like you can't do shit.

Embarrassing? Yeah. Is he gonna admit it? Hell no.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ SOAP! Listen, Soap is an ass man—he loves all of you, of course, but that backside? That’s his favorite view. He'd be the type to rest his hand on your ass while cuddling, whether its innocent or dirty. He would SMACK that! No matter what size you have, he's making it jiggle.

So when you casually gather your hair up into a ponytail? When you pull it up, exposing your neck, stretching just enough to make your back arch? He’s GONE.

God, he's imagining bending you over, trailing his hands down your sides and slipping those pants off you slowly so they drag along your skin.

It doesn’t even have to be sexy. You could be getting ready for a workout, throwing your hair up while talking about something completely unrelated. Just how hard-working you are, how concentrated you look, the sounds of frustration when your hair won't set right. But Soap? He’s biting his lip, eyes locked onto you, internally fighting for his life.

And don’t even get him started on the way a few loose strands fall around your face. Or worse—when you catch him staring and give him a knowing smirk.

Embarrassing? Absolutely. But does he care? Not even a little.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ KONIG! is huge. Literally, he's 6'10 and spans the latitude of a mountain range. Yeah so, he’s down SO BAD for any moment that reminds him how much bigger he is than you.

He originally hated it, enlisting in the military just to make some use of his stature, but when you unintentionally remind him of the size difference? He slowly learned to love it and love himself through you.

But the real killer? When you have to stretch up onto your tiptoes to reach something—especially if he’s standing behind you.

The way you strain, reaching up, your body tilting just slightly, struggling and cursing under your breath? It does something to him. Something primal. Something embarrassing because this man was definitely never taught about his own pleasure.

His hands twitch with the urge to grab you, to lift you up effortlessly like you weigh nothing. Maybe spin you around and admire your shocked little face. His brain is short-circuiting, caught between “help them” and “fuck, that’s adorable.”

Or maybe he's thinking of how lewdly your cunt has to stretch to his size, watching his thick cock stuttering and struggling to fit inside you. The way it sinks in, slow and agonising and how he softly apologises over and over again as he does it...

And if you look at him over your shoulder and ask, “König, can you help me?” in that soft, innocent voice?

Fuck, he doesn't know if he can stop himself.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ VALERIA! is in deep denial about this one.

Valeria loves control. She’s used to people obeying her without question. So when you get a little feisty? When you challenge her, talk back with that teasing lilt in your voice?

She should be annoyed. She should put you in your place.

Instead? Her heart is hammering.

She's conflicted. Half of her wants to size you up to see you tremble in fear, dirty talking at you with passive RAGE until you're wet and apologising just to get fucked.

The other half wants to grab you, tug you down onto her lap and let you shout at her all you want while she bites her lip and nods, watching you as if (and you are) the love of her life.

Because you’re not scared of her. Because you meet her fire with your own. And it's refreshing to know that someone's there to meet her at eye-level, see what she's seeing and talk to her like they have a mind of their own because frankly, everyone she meets is an idiot.

And the worst part? If you smirk after a particularly bold remark, acting all smug? She’s gonna have to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling back.

Infuriating. Humiliating. And hot as hell.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ ALEJANDRO! Listen—this man loves his mother tongue. And hearing it from you? Instant weakness. Hearing it ANGRILY from you? He's finished.

He enjoys it; enjoys and loves the effort you put into learning his language or incorporating it daily because you knew it anyway.

But the real kicker? When you get frustrated and let a curse slip out in Spanish. Especially if it’s because of him.

Imagine: you’re arguing, and suddenly you huff, "¡Por Dios, Alejandro!"

His brain? EMPTY. His pulse? SKYROCKETING. Something clicks and suddenly all his thoughts rush to his cock, getting hard when he should be mad at you. He can't even retort back and he SHOULD be mad, his irritation melting away as his pants tighten. Because he's picturing him holding your legs open, knees right up to your tits and strained curses in Spanish spilling out of your mouth.

Something about the way your voice wraps around his language? The raw emotion behind it? Yeah, he’s done for.

And if you ever say "¡Cállate!" in a teasing, exasperated way?

He’s either kissing you or ruining you on the spot.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ GRAVES! is used to people calling him “sir” in a professional sense. It’s normal. Expected.

But when you say it? Casually? In a teasing, playful, or even just an offhand way? He shouldn't think this, and he should stay professional.

His body locks up. His brain just—shuts down. Because damn, he's a workaholic, takes his work very seriously and when he tangles the love of his life with that? He's going to overheat.

Imagine: You’re joking around, and he hands you something. You smirk and go, “Thanks, sir.”

God, he wants to give you something to really thank him for, right at his desk in his office— to shut that smart mouth of yours with his cock in your mouth even when he knows your smirk wouldn't falter in the slightest...even when you're gagging through it.

His grip tightens, his jaw clenches, and he has to force himself to play it cool. Because if you keep saying that? With that tone?

He’s not responsible for what happens next.

FULL FIC HERE...

[flowerfreya]

Warrant

Part 13 in The Office AU

Chapter Index

Pairing poly!141 x reader

Content: kissing, injury ( mild detail)

Heading back to work , you feel antsy and nervous and keep glancing over at Simon. You kind of want to kiss him. One reason is that you're jealous of your wacky girlfriend and the other because you think that SImon is hot and you think kissing him would be enjoyable.

You’re just not sure how to get him to kiss you, which may be an issue.

Pulling into the parking lot , you turn towards him, “Thanks for treating me to lunch”, smiling. You hope that you're portraying that you want to kiss him but not coming on too strong.

“Was hungry, anyway”, he grumbles.

“Of course, right”.

Your looking into his eyes and he glances away. Like he can’t look at you for a long period of time. Maybe you shouldn’t kiss him. Maybe he doesn’t want to kiss you.

“Alright?”, Simon ask.

Looking at your lap, you're questioning yourself.

“Hey, you can talk to me”, Simon says, trying to catch your eye.

“I know, I’m just nervous and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable”, you start waving your arms and talking with your hands, trying to explain that you don’t want to be a homewrecker but you're really nice to me and you think he’s cute. He cuts you off, “ `M not apart of that”, he says as he waves his hands towards the building.

Your not really surprised, wacky girlfriend doesn’t really include Simon in anything, “how come?”

Simon gives you an exasperated look, “she doesn’t like me like that”.

“That’s a shame”, you reply.

Breathing in deep, you decide to full send it, “can I ask you a question?”.

“Course, anything”, he says.

“Can I kiss you?”, you’re fully ready to be rejected by him, and then he answers in a low groan, “yes”.

Leaning across the center console and capturing his lips with yours. He lets a low moan, letting out a soft, oh. Which spurs you on to keep going. You move your hand to his shoulder, running your hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. He grabs the back of you head and deepens the kiss.

You’re the first to pull away, needing to breathe. Letting out a small laugh, “wow”.

“Yeah”, you look up to Simon wiping both hands down his face, letting out a big breath.

“Yeah”, you respond.

“Well I guess we should head back in”, you open the door , grabbing your stuff. Simon is still in the car sitting staring straight ahead.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just need a.. moment”, then look over at you and gives you a light smile.

Oh.

Oh.

He’s hard.

~

You see her above you and you see her mouth moving , are you okay , but no sounds. She seems frantic, red faced with tears, looking back and forth between you and the car, it was an accident , I swear her mouth says .It’s like everything has slowed down. Then you feel the pain. You're having trouble taking a full breath and breathing in feels like inhaling fire.

The next face you see is John. He doesn’t look too happy to see you, in fact you think he’s yelling at you. You’re in too much pain to care.

“Can’t breathe”, you painfully choke out.

His face changes then, from angry to sad, “I know luv”, he grabs your hand, “helps coming”.

You see Simon on the other side of you, wanting to get a better look you try turning your head. Bad idea. You let a wail that has Gaz and Soap snapping their head at you and John barking, “don’t move”.

But it’s too late, you see your foot in a direction you don’t think that your foot should be, “goin to be sick”, right as you puke all over Simon's shoes.

He doesn’t seem to care that much because he stays there and strokes your hair, muttering, it’s okay and let it out sweetheart.

You hear Soap ask why you haven’t passed out yet. And honestly you would like to know too because this sucks.

You hear the sirens before you see them. Gaz meets them at the trucks and it explains the situation, pedestrian struck by motor vehicle, speed 45,possible broken rib , ankle displaced.

The EMT’s take your vitals on the scene asking to follow light and how many fingers are they holding up, but you're having trouble focusing.

Losing consciousness , you hear someone say. Get her to the hospital now , you think Soap says before the void takes over.

~

Waking up to the beeps of the hospital machines and your legs and foot wrapped in a cast is a bit jarring. But it all comes back to you pretty quick.

Wacky girlfriend ran you over with her car.