#simon😔😔😔
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mj-thrush-gxn · 8 months ago
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mini simon
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wombywoo · 7 months ago
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cleaned up
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wispscribbles · 10 months ago
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piggyback
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tojisun · 7 months ago
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simon’s so possessive :(( so naturally he had to show some pictures you two took to his squad. just, y’know, to stake his claim.
(you two know he’s got the exhibitionist streak in him since the first time you two fucked in his car, in an empty parking lot, and he came within the first few minutes. it was so sudden, so intense, that simon had to resort to fingering you because he’s gotten so sensitive that a next round wasn’t even an option. you tease him about it constantly, only to end up on your knees as simon fucks the giggles out of you.)
the pictures start off ‘simple’—shots of your tits in one of his favourite set of lingerie, with his cum staining your chin while pools of it build up along your cleavage; or of simon’s hand loosely wrapped around your neck, your supple skin a beautiful contrast underneath his expanse of scars and tattoos.
the recent one is this: simon’s sitting in front of the mirror, his bulk covered by your body. you’re facing away from the camera, something johnny loudly complained about of course, but you’re bare. you’re stripped naked and stuffed with his cock, and the insinuation was enough to silence their grumbles.
his squad sees everything that simon allows them to see—the plane of your spine to the globes of your ass—and then, they break.
pitiful pleas spilling, filling up simon’s inbox. even price seemed to have trouble with hiding the tides of his own desire, and, well, is that not something?
(you and simon indulge them, of course. the pictures become more bold, more revealing, until simon’s got them adjusting themselves from underneath their slacks when he shows them a little slip of a video.
it’s not even that conspicuous; it’s just simon’s hand squeezing the pudge of your belly. but the pose, the angle—it’s what made their breaths run ragged. the way simon’s hand is tilted just enough to make it look like he’s fully covering your groin, leaving them nothing to salivate over but the stretch of your skin and the softness of your fat.
it’s not like that wasn’t enough, not when it even had price calling off their briefing and rescheduling it later in the afternoon instead because none of them could focus.
simon devours the sight they make, all reduced by you, unable to even deny how much pleasure he’s gaining from this. he licks the backs of his teeth and sends you a short message.
“want to make a film for them?”
not even a minute passed by before your reply came in.
“i thought you’ll never ask.”
simon can’t even stop the bark of laughter that tumbles from his throat, his eyes glinting with deep interest.
he knows just what to make you wear for that film.)
(it’s price’s boonie, one he snagged from their captain’s office.)
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killerpancakeburger · 2 months ago
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Well-placed Trust
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As soldiers unpromptedly walk in on a maskless Ghost and you, your solution to protect his face is to shove it in your chest.
Tags: f!reader (boobs involved), civilian!reader, protective!reader, fluff + smut, Praise, Ghost is a menace (positive), boobs worship, 1k words.
Gaining Simon Riley's trust was not something you ever planned to achieve. However, now that you've had it, you were fiercely protective of it.
This would explain why, when you heard the door to Ghost's room randomly opening, and your eyes flew to the skull mask laying on his desk— barely a meter away but it might as well have been on the other side of the ocean—, your first instinct was to launch yourself at him. Bluntly shoving his face into your chest without warning, in hopes to conceal it from the newly arrived trespassers, and wrapping your arms around his head in a desperate attempt to hide his hair as well.
Nevermind that he's trapped right between your breasts.
You throw a mildly accusatory stare at the entrance, and coarse laughs ring out, followed by a barely believable apology.
“Oops, sorry. Wrong door. Didn’t mean to interrupt!”
You let out a relieved sigh as the door closes. However said relief is quick to vanish as you realize Simon hasn’t reacted at all this whole time. Not a word, not even a grunt; not a move, not even to repel you. 
You let go of him like you've been burnt, even raising your hands in surrender.
“Sorry! Are you mad? I panicked, I was just trying to—”
Your waterfall of apologies brutally ceases when, after attempting to back away, you're stopped short by his embrace. You don’t know when he wrapped his arms around your waist. His expression still out of sight, anxiety nags at you, despite the logical part of your mind emphasizing that if he was actually angry, there's no way he'd demonstrate it by hugging you. 
So you insists.
“Ghost?”
“Mmh.”
The sound is raspy, unbothered. He idly rubs his face against your torso, and the motion is enough to make your crotch throbs with arousal. Inhaling sharply at the unexpected sensation, you clench your thighs together.
“Simon,” you call again, trying to sound severe this time.
You have absolutely zero reservation in granting all the hugs he might crave, but surely they could be performed in a less… compromising position. Lest you end this cuddle session squirming with want. And a burning face. And the imperative need to never cross the lieutenant ever again, for fear that you'd spontaneously combust with mortification otherwise.
“‘M not mad.“
The gruff, familiar voice appeases your tension a little— the emotional one, that is. Not the physical one.
“You're not? You have a right to b—”
“I trust you.”
Your heart skips a beat at the confession. You suspected it, hoped for it— but hearing it out loud is another matter entirely. Simon Riley is a man of few words, but the ones he does pronounce are always sincere, to the point of bluntness. For him to feel the need to spell it out loud, it has to be important.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You've put my comfort over yours, no questions asked. Couldn’t be more pleased, love.”
The gravel in his voice does funny things to your stomach— why, why, why? It never had that effect before.
You try to ignore the signals sent by your body, instead passing a hand behind your neck in self-consciousness. 
“Oh… well. It was nothing. I'd do it again in a heartbeat—”
“You've been so good to me, sweetheart. Don't ya think you deserve a reward?”
Your brain short-circuits. Your skin gets even warmer. Surely you misheard him.
He finally unsticks his face from your chest, resting his chin above your sternum, only to stare with the start of some impatience drowned out in warmth and fondness.
He's a vision, one that takes your breath away and causes heat to pool in your stomach.
Heavy-lidded eyes, disheveled hair, ardent stare, he's a languid, lascivious mess.
“I need an answer. Preferably in one word. Yes, no, fuck off…”
In other, normal circumstances, you would have stayed mute from the shock, or helplessly stuttered, but the imperative desire to not disappoint him, to preserve the contentment he displays, takes over.
“Fuck. Yes.”
The low chuckle that escapes him in reaction to the eagerness of your reply makes you bite back a moan. Your hands close into fists on the back of his shirt.
He lifts your shirt— "hold this for me, love"— and effortlessly frees your chest from your bra. The second your skin is bare, he presses his face back into it, nuzzling against it with a blissful sigh.
With one hand busy grasping your top, and the other clinging onto his shoulder for balance, there's nothing you can do but submit yourself to his ministrations.
It's your turn to sigh in pleasure as he proceeds to kiss an invisible line between the bottom and the top of your breast, fingers stroking the curve between your ribs and your nipple.
“Never dreamed you'd let me get my face on those, love.”
Groggy, it takes a conscious effort on your part to register what he's saying.
“Such a generous thing. It's only right you get payback.”
“You're very… talkative all of a sudden.”
“S'that a problem? Think I'm not putting my tongue to use enough?”
Right after that, said tongue swirl around your nipple and you can feel yourself clench around nothing.
“Or maybe that's just not your thing,” he adds, casually, as if he hadn’t been shamelessly gropping, kissing, licking and sucking your chest.
“I never said that.”
Your reply had been straight off, out of fear that he'd take offense and puts a stop to all this.
“You know what to do to shut me up, anyway.”
You don’t react to his provocative tone, but you’re tempted by the invitation nonetheless— to muffle that smart mouth with your bust…
Just as his focus on your breasts threatens to not suffice you anymore, his thumb insistantly rubbs the apex of your thighs, and you push back against it openly.
“Easy there, sweetheart,” he soothes you, but you can see how pleased he is by your eagerness. “M just gettin’ started.”
Soon enough he disposed of your pants, and he's parting your knees to nuzzle against your inner thigh the way he was against your chest mere moments ago. You can’t help but close them partially, and instantly he's staring you down, eyes brimming with taunt.
“Gonna smother me with your thighs, sweetheart? Like you did with your tits, mh? Better be prepared in case we get ‘interrupted’ again.”
“Fucking hell, Ghost,” you groan, half exasperated, half even more aroused, as he finally steers his head towards your crotch.
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gildui · 3 months ago
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“Be careful who you trust, Sergeant. People you know can hurt you the most.”
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the-raindeer-king · 5 months ago
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Simon and Price are the kind of guys that insist on paying for everything on a vacation. They're paying for the hotel, the rental car, food, any stupid knickknacks you want. If you even pull out your wallet, they're going to be all huffy. John will politely tell you not to worry about, he's got you covered. On the hand, Simon's taking your wallet from you, telling you that you don't need to spend your money, you've got him for that.
Johnny and Kyle don't mind splitting things with you. You pay for the hotel, he'll pay for the flights, dividing out the expenses so you've both got money for the actual trip. Johnny gets all lovey-dovey when you buy him things, jokes that you're spoiling him. But don't fret, he'll get you back later. Gaz gets all warm and fuzzy when you pay for dinner, staring at you with a lovestruck expression. He thinks it's so sweet, and it's just one more push towards finally pulling the ring out of his pocket.
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lost-time-memery · 1 year ago
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I really don't wanna see anyone talking about Betty as if she was a "poor little misguided girl" that had to sacrifice her whole life for a man.
She was her own character and made her own decisions during the whole show! Yes, jumping through the portal basically doomed her life, but it was HER DECISION.
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I'm not saying it was a good thing for her, being impulsive and reckless is a very consistent flaw to her character, as well as being passive and inattentive to her self destructive behavior was a flaw to Simon! Their relationship had flaws like any other would, but they loved and admired each other the exact same amount! (Simon went back in time to apologize and say goodbye to her, while Betty refused to accept his loss and tried to go back in time to change the future, he was more willing to let her go AT FIRST)
I'm also devastated that Betty got such a tragic ending, but the important thing is that SHE ACTIVELY CHOSE HER FATE. And she did not regret it.
SHE CHOSE TO STAY WITH SIMON AND NOT GO ON THAT TRIP
SHE CHOSE TO JUMP THROUGH THAT PORTAL
SHE CHOSE TO TRY TO FIX THE CROWN EVEN WHEN SIMON BEGGED HER TO STOP
SHE CHOSE TO STAY BEHIND AND MAKE HER LAST WISH
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(I'm also a little bit disappointed with the fionna and cake finale, the way they handled Simon's character development was kinda underwhelming, but seeing people treat Betty like the ultimate victim makes me a lil bit upset... SHE WAS SUPER PROACTIVE)
I'm not trying to romanticize her toxic traits, being this obsessed with someone is not healthy, but at the same time... In a show with world ending monsters and interdimentional beings and telepathic war elephants, the fate of the world in both AT and FaC depending on a normal human woman that just loved someone SO MUCH is so beautiful...
It's PAINFULLY bittersweet but also immensely true to the nature of human beings. 🥲
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maajul444 · 1 year ago
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doglikecadaver · 1 year ago
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These two compelling me to return once more from my far too frequent hiatuses😓
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badsalmonella · 6 months ago
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Everyone shut up she means EVERYTHINGGG TO MEEEEEEE 📢📢📢📢
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wombywoo · 8 months ago
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tequila
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yooo-lets-go · 2 years ago
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This your man?
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tojisun · 4 days ago
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sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au mlist) - smut; f!reader; short drabble only!
yea i bet youre all tired of hearing hockey come out of my mouth but thinking about—
hockey player simon receiving a text from you after a game.
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they defeated their opponent in a shutout—price carrying the team on enemy ice, with garrick coming in with solid defences, allowing mactavish and simon to sink a shot after another.
it was an electrifying game; even now as he’s stuffed in his cubicle, simon feels like he’s on top of the world. like the cup is so close to his reach—just a few more rally and he’s bringing it home.
the locker room is buzzed, congratulations getting passed from one to another while their coach awards the disk to price for the shutout. the media is still taping this whole interaction so the team remains conscious, guarded, until, finally, everything is wrapped up.
the others clamber to the showers but simon digs for his phone, desperate to talk to you. to tell you that he’s won—he doesn’t know if you’ve watched the game, not with how packed your schedule’s gotten—so if you haven’t, he wishes to at least be the first to let you know.
he wants you to hear it from him; hear from him how they dominated tonight’s game.
(6-0 for the specgru. in the playoffs.)
but there’s already a message from you, sitting atop the strings of notification filling up his phone screen. he ignores the emails from brands reaching out for brand deals or fans sending in messages to his public socials, and taps on your name.
his eyes grow wide, his breath hitching, because—
> 2 goals tonight, baby. almost a hatty.
> have i told you how your hockey makes me hot? almost makes me want to fly there to give you a reward
the start of a whimper builds in the base of his throat, scratching at his trachea.
jesus.
the last time you’ve rewarded him for his performance—a hatty, one of which was an empty net goal—simon had to grit through the horror of seeing you have a difficulty in sitting down the next few days. until now, he swears that he tried holding back, to take it easy despite his needs, but then you crawled to his lap and sang praises in his ears, and simon was gone.
you were so needy for him. for his skate and his play and his victory. and how could simon control himself then?
so this—your messages that are lidded with a tease—is torture. the flight won’t even be until tomorrow morning so you’ve just left him extremely pent-up, buzzing, with his desires poorly-leashed.
all he could do is send a weak,
when i’m back, can you give it then? <
you’ve only liked his message as a reply and simon knows it for what it is—a deliberate hooking; filling him up with tension. with unbridled energy, all uncontainable, so he can fuck all of that into you.
shit. now he’s all hard underneath his cup.
the quick rub in the shower stalls was not enough so he races to their hotel, locking himself in his room and proceeds to fuck his fist as he swipes at the album he’s locked away in his gallery. it’s the gallery that only you and simon know about.
it’s full of pictures. of videos and audios.
it’s full of you fingering your sensitive pussy, and of simon finally getting his hands on your cunt and dragging you up to his mouth for a taste, and of simon fucking you at every surface—on the island, in the living room, against the window, in front of the mirror.
in some of them, he’s still wearing his jersey. in most of them, you’re the one who has it on.
simon cums once. then rubs another one before the flight because he makes the mistake of rereading your previous message. the release isn’t euphoric; sure, it’s enough to stop the fever, but it was almost too clinical.
you’re still in your gym clothes when simon’s clumsily making his way home. you shriek at the way he just covers you with his bulk, before giggling at the ticklish feeling of his scruff rubbing against your cheek.
“missed you,” he says.
you whine, nodding, before pushing him back just enough that you can finally jump into his arms. simon soaks up the attention, like it’s sticky liquorice, and the nuzzled kisses.
even the words pressed on his lips, he devours but there’s one thing simon needs more, and he’s almost shaking when you finally noticed.
you laugh, poking his cheek, before giving him what he wants.
“your hockey’s so hot, si,” you trill. “fuck me?”
“please,” simon croaks out because that is all he could truly say.
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eurodynamic · 11 months ago
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"You wanna be better than me, Johnny."  "Think I'll live that long?" "Probably not..."
SOAP & GHOST CODMWⅡ -> CODMWⅢ
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aria-greenhoodie · 1 year ago
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Ok so my friend said that Ice King is basically an anime girl (huge ass, keeps getting in situations where his muumuu gets blown to reveal said huge ass, has a gay little run, etc.) And I um. My hand slipped. 😇
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Click for Quality!
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