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#Simon riley x you
bi-writes · 2 days
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can't stop thinking about dark!simon with a sunshine!curvy!fem!reader, it's gnawing at my brain. (18+)
greeting him when he comes home in a little apron with dough smeared across your cheeks. you're bouncing in the kitchen, giggling as you wrap your arms around his neck. one burly arm hooks around your waist as he palms one side of your ass, and you kiss his lips over his blood-soaked mask again and again as you coo, "missed you so much, made you chocolate chip..."
you talk and talk and talk and talk. you're always talking. you're always whispering in his ear and chattering as he drives and telling him some story about something he missed while he was gone as you tidy up the flat. you never stop talking, never run out of things to tell him, and despite the monotone voice and the lack of response, he hears every single word that you say, and he forgets nothing. when he makes his way back on base, johnny is waiting, eager to hear an update about the receptionist at your work and if she is actually sleeping with your manager.
you wash his clothes without even blinking. you're at the sink, a bucket of cold, suddy water there as you scrub at his shirt. there's peroxide at the side, and you use a delicate hand as you scrub at the stains on it. ghost watches from the doorway as you hum to yourself, in a little pair of shorts with your hair tied up as you rinse the shirt clean. blood runs down the drain, and his shirt is clean as new.
you always find some kind of weapon around the house. you bend down to brush crumbs off the kitchen chairs, and you scold simon with a glossy pout because he left a bloody knife taped under the table. you whine when you find a grenade sitting in the same drawer you keep your tampons in. you complain when you take out the jar of rice to make dinner, and there's a small handgun hidden between the grains. but your face always softens when he cups your cheeks with two big hands, kissing you warmly, muttering, "gotta keep y'safe, luvvie...know there's a bloody line waitin' for a taste of y'r cunny, baby."
you visit him on base once in light wash denim and a white tshirt, sneakers hitting the linoleum and purse swinging as you wave at him. he's standing in front of a line of privates, watching them do jumping jacks, and his eyes light up a little when he sees you waving at him enthusiastically. when he finally makes it to you, he shoves you into the nearest supply closet and tugs your jeans down just enough to fit his cock between your thighs. when he's walking you out, the boys watch as you cling to simon's arm, a lovesick grin on your sweaty face as you flutter your lashes up at him.
he loves when your manicured hands touch him. scratching along his scalp, tracing the edge of his jaw, cupping the bulge in his pants. you're so sweet, the most giggly girl, and he loves tasting the strawberry of your gloss as you make him cum with your hand, cooing against his lips about how strong he is, how much you love him, how you would do anything for him.
he loves it most when you see him for what he really is. when he comes home battered and bruised, bloody clothes sticking to him, a snarl to his voice and the adrenaline of an op still pumping through his veins. he loves that nothing about him scares you. that even like this, you lean up on your toes and kiss him softly, that you get some of the blood and dirt smudges on the pink of your pajama pants, and you don't care, that he strangled a man with these very hands only hours ago, and you still want him to touch you.
he loves that you love him. that when he feeds his cock into you that night, in nothing but your baby pink lingerie, that you barely need any prep at all from how wet you are. thick thighs spreading apart, sticky slick shining on your skin, cunt nice and ready for him because you have missed him that much. he loves that no matter how ugly he feels, you always find him attractive, that no matter how many people he tells you that he killed tonight, all you do is smile and pucker your lips, and tell him, "it's okay, teddy bear, they deserved it, didn't they?" and yeah, they did, cause it is kill or be killed, and there is no universe where ghost does not fight to get back here, to get back to this pretty pussy, to get back to the bed he shares with you so he can watch those pretty tits bounce every time he fucks his cock into you.
ghost loves his pretty girl. all smiles. all soft, so cute, just perfect. ghost casts a shadow over the room, and you just brighten it right back up. ghost tracks blood into the house, and there you are to cover it all up with citrus and soap.
yeah. always just sunshine and smiles at home.
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ghouljams · 2 days
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ik you described android!ghost's cock to be like a human one but him having a cock like this one...... 🤤💦💦💦💦
https://twitter.com/robots_and_lace/status/1246647460161781760?s=21
Oh my...
Ghost has basically a human "suit" that he wears because it makes him feel more comfortable, but mechanically speaking it's really just a synthetic cover to hide his electronics. He has seams and plates that aren't covered by it, and he's a big boy. A behemoth of an android. Usually they're more lithe, more spartan in their construction and programming. They're specialized machines. Ghost is... an anomaly. He's big and armored and the synthetic skin doesn't hide what he is, because he makes no move to hide the smooth, cold, screen of his helmet-like face. He doesn't hide that he's not a man any more.
That doesn't mean that once you install his new hardware he doesn't have a man's urges. His thick, unyielding, fingers rub over your dripping cunt, synthetic come aiding in the slick slide of the digits. The warmth of his skin does little to hide the hard metal beneath it, but it doesn't stop Ghost from letting out a hiss when you clench around them. His cock drips against your chest as he pushes come back into your cunt. Poor pretty thing, you have to learn to keep it all in or he'll plug you. Tape your pretty pussy closed so you can feel the weight of the come he's pumped you full of all day.
Your fingers leave prints over his face plate, the gentle oil of your skin and sweat smearing over the dark glass. You do your best to stroke his cock, careful of the exposed metal, the smooth retractable plates, as you move your fingers over him. He likes this new model, likes the way it drags at your cunt, rubbing you at every angle and making you sob out your pleasure. He can almost feel your puffy cunt reshaping itself to take him, can feel the silhouette of himself as he fingers you. Yeah, he likes this model. Not as human, but not skimping on what he really wants either. Anything to drive you into the cock drunk stupor he currently finds you in.
"I can't come again," You whine, try to push at his hands. As if you could ever have the strength needed to move him. Especially not when he can tough you like this.
"You can," He assures you, "you're going to."
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cntloup · 2 days
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“Hey, love.” Simon whispers in your hair as his arms wrap around you from behind. 
The sweet aroma of strawberries and vanilla takes over his senses. 
“God! You smell so good.” he murmurs, shutting his eyes and breathing you in. 
“It’s my shampoo.” you giggle as his breath tickles your neck. 
“I love it!” he remarks and you grab his arm to pull him closer. 
“I missed you so much, Si.” you mutter, tilting your head to look at him and he nuzzles his head closer to you.
“I missed you too, dove.” he responds, slightly lifting his head to capture your lips with his. 
“Go back to sleep, lovie.” he breathes against your skin. 
“Love you, Si.” you mumble sleepily. 
“Love you too, baby.” he coos, softly tracing his fingers on your hips under your shirt and kissing your neck, making you drowsier. 
Your eyes begin to get droopy and soon, you drift off in your lover’s arms. 
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simonzmama · 15 hours
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simon who’s never been complimented in his lifeeee…
his back presses against the cushions of the couch, fingers curling around the dip of your waist as his arm presses you further against his side. your knee sits hiked up on his lap, head rolled against his shoulder as your lips hover at his ear.
simon’s shirt rides up, a hot show of his chiseled up v-line on complete display for you, the soft blonde trail lining under his bellybutton n disappearing under his joggers your hand digs into. the points of his hip bones twitch, abs visible under the thin worn t-shirt he lounges back in.
“you look so pretty,” you murmur out in a sweet hush of a breathe, fingers wrapping around the length of his cock as you press a kiss under his ear. you work his pants down ever-so-slightly, pulling his cock free from its strain under his boxers.
simon’s cheeks flush, eyes flickering from your face to your hand that strokes his cock in slow motions, working his heart n nerves up to an almost breaking point.
simon breathes out lowly, free hand gliding up from your ankle to hold at your calf, so desperate to have his hands up all over you.
“you gettin’ shy ‘cause i think you’re handsome?” you giggle, fist tightening around him till pretty beads of precum glide down the edge of his cock.
“not shy,” simon laughs out in a rush of a breath, head tipping back slightly as his jaw clenches n he sucks in a deep breath. “you’re just full of it today.”
your head tilts, a sly smile stretching across your lips in something of disbelief. this scarred, troubled man is stupid to even believe you’d lie, to think he isn’t a creation of god that makes you absolutely lose it. youd catch yourself gazing at this man as if there wasn’t a diamond strapped around your finger, as if he wasn’t yours.
“you think i’m lyin’? is that it, huh?” you hum against his skin, fingers brushing over the tip of his angry cock.
simon’s reply tumbles back down the chamber of his throat, stuck in his voicebox n instead hes coughing up a gasp. his chest raises, shoulders digging against the back couch cushion as his back arches softly, thighs spreading further as his balls draw up in feeling that encapsulates his whole being.
“answer me, simon,” it’s a demand, one that hits his ear n fills him with despair as your pace slows. his patience ticks, he’d never want to call you liar but with the way you completely sucked him clear of an orgasm it’s bout ready to spill off his bruised, kiss-bitten lips.
“y-you’re lying,” he huffs, rasp hidden under the high-pitch of his pretty whine. his nails dig into your soft skin desperately urging you to continue, to just make him fucking cum.
“mmm, really?” you tsk, lip twitching against his warming skin. “if i’m such a liar, maybe you don’t deserve this like i promised. should i stop?”
ion even know anymore y’all 🙏
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 3 days
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“Why do you join the military?”
“Because when I die someone will know, and I’m afraid of dying alone.
TF141*Reader, just some thoughts :) and yes ur reader killer writer is back sorry :D
Price
He knows because he’s the one to sign the report confirming your death.
He knows because there aren’t warm teas and sticky notes with ‘hydrate! capt. :D’ written on them waiting for him on his desk.
Soap
He knows because he can’t find you when he gets you your favorite snack.
He knows because there’s no sweet laughter accompanying him in the training room.
Gaz
He knows because he washed the blood from your dog tag and keeps it from gathering dust every day.
He knows because he helps you take care of your plushie that sleeps alone on your cold bed.
Ghost
He knows because he doesn’t get bantered when he sits in your quarter and tells a bad joke.
He knows because he always feels the morning is too quiet when you’re not here to make tea together with him.
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dmitriene · 3 days
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simon on his knees in front of you, his heavy arms wrapped around your waist with astonishing tenderness, his head resting peacefully on your lap, where your fingers run through his short cropped blonde strands, burrowing into the dark roots of his hair.
you scratch and weave the soft strands between your fingers, moving down the back of his head to his neck, running your nails over his nape and gathering short strands of blonde hair, immediately pulling a muffled growl of — “feels s' good, luv, don'' stop„ from simon's mouth before he stretches his neck.
there's tv with some kind of movie working muffled on the background, to which you periodically direct your attention, while your hand scratches and strokes simon's head, occasionally moving behind his ears and allowing him to press the side of his face against your warm palm, light eyelashes tickling your skin.
the next time, you don't hear unintelligible growls and purrs, but a soft snores in your lap, letting you know that simon fell asleep, so you gently turn his face on the side, so his cheek would rest on your leg, as you lean over to kiss him gently on the top of his head, whispering a soft — “sleep tight, si„ before continuing your stroking.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
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dante-mightdie · 6 hours
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I saw you asked for angst viking!Simon ideas so what about simon injured in battle and all he wants to do is get home back to his wife, their cat, and the little tot. Maybe like comfort and she stitches him back up or something?
viking!simon as a dad is just kratos
c/w: pregnancy, injury, parenthood
he’d been gone 3 months now. your husband had been away at battle for 3 months and you miss him terribly. especially as your little one grows, they’ve already begun crawling and you wished he had been here to see it
you place your hand on your belly, rubbing the small swell of your tummy. you had told him that you were already pregnant with your second child just before he left for battle, he gave a pleased grunt as he said goodbye to you and your child. most people would find his reaction to be unenthusiastic, but that’s just how you’ve come to know him
you stand up from your bed, grabbing your baby from their crib to feed them before you settle in for the night. in the distant night you hear the sounds of victory being cheered throughout the land. your heart rate picks up as you eagerly await your husbands return
you’re waiting for him when he stumbles in, a soft gasp leaving your lips when you see the bloody gash in his shoulder. he doesn’t seem all to bother or agonised over it but it’s appalling for you to see
“simon! what happened?” you fuss, placing your baby back down so you can rush over to him. he walks past you, moving to tower over the crib. the sound of giggles leaving your baby when he reaches a hand in to tickle their tummy before turning back to you
“battle.” is all he says, making you roll your eyes. he treads over to you, placing a big hand on your belly and getting a feel of your bump. the feeling instantly makes you let out a soft sigh, as though the sight and touch of your husband will simply fix everything
you usher him over to a chair, making him sit down as you tug his heavy armour from his chest. no words are exchanged as you clean his wound, agile hands making quick work of the blood. this is not the first time you’ve tended to him and it certainly won’t be the last
his hands come up to rest on your hips, keeping you stood between his legs as he analyses the worried look on your face. “I am fine.” he grunts, trying to soothe you in his own way
you shrug his injured arm back down, mumbling something about making it worse. your furrowed brow and pout is adorable to him, in some weird way he likes knowing that you worry about him. that you wish and pray for his safe return
“the children missed you.” you mumble, beginning to patch up his wound. “we were all worried.”
“we only have the one.” simon responds, “this one hasn’t even met me yet.” he lets one hand come up to soothe over your tummy, knowing how comforting you found it during your last pregnancy
“I’m talking about that one.” you nod your head over to your shared bed, where the cat that simon gifted you lay curled up on his pillow. “he wanted to know where papa had gone.”
simon lets out a quiet snort at your words, leaning forward to rest his head on your tummy. “I’m home now, my love.”
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chaosandmarigolds · 2 days
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What??? Sorry! Lemme just drop some more Dad!Simon on your plate before I run away to finish up finals
Simon! Who doesn’t like leashes, thinks they’re demeaning and told you he would never because Ollie ‘is a well behaved gentleman’
…who takes after his Uncle Johnny
Simon! Who is constantly getting that boy out of trees, off the top of play areas, and one time off the top of a fire truck
“Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Uh-is-is that your-“
“ISTER RILEY LOOK IT AT HOW TALL I AM!! ISTER RILEY LOOOK ITT!!!”
Simon! Who ops for the one that look like a little lion backpack, and can store stacks because it has to versatile!
Simon! Who uses Johnny as a scapegoat for the days he’s too tired to play
“ITS UNCLE SOAPY!!”
“It’s my favorite lil’ devil!!”
Simon! Who takes Ollie on walks as soon as the sun comes up because that boy….that boy is an endless mount of energy
Simon! Who once accidentally gave Ollie a coffee frappe instead of a not coffee frappe and well-
“What did you do to him?” You stand in the door way of his house, looking exhausted, “I gave him two melatonin gummies! Two!! He-“
You both slowly watch as Ollie saunters through the threshold of Simon’s house and then collapses on the ground- something that was bound to happen after being awake for 35 hours. You look back to Simon, “You are SO lucky you’re cute.”
“Luv you too?”
(Actual footage of me running away after posting 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️. Comments, feedback and anything like it make my day! Annnnnd that’s all! <33)
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lxvvie · 1 day
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Simon Riley is only a good 5.4 inches when flaccid that when you finally consummated your relationship with him, you couldn't help yourself but let out a big sigh of relief, that your assumption that this larger-than-life man will probably have a third limb between his legs was thrown out to the wind.
But of course you were wrong. So very wrong because what this motherfucker doesn't tell you is that he's a grower, a mutant. One second he's average and the next you are praying to all saints that would grant you mercy to spare you as you gag around the weapon he calls his cock (a whopping 7-incher! spoiler: he'll grow another inch and some cm because he is such a horndog for you).
can u tell my brain is rotting 🪰
Yes, I can, nonnie. Yes, I can.
The first time you saw him, you were so amazed that you cockblocked yourself.
I maintain that Simon is hairy, and most of it is concentrated below the belt, so when you finally see him in all his glory, it's like, "Oh, wow."
Hair everywhere. On his thighs and between his legs. On his ass. Hair the color of sand. And balls. Hairy balls. Heavy hairy nuts. Hefty, furry bollocks that you can't help but hold in the palm of your hand and try to bounce to Simon's... confusion? Amusement? Fuck if he knows. And then you went "D'aww ❤️" when you saw him flaccid and he doesn't know if he should be turned on that you find his dick adorable or... turned on that you find his dick adorable.
But then he gets hard. And what used to be Little Lt. Riley is now resting on your stomach and holy fucking shit, he's a grower.
Simon senses your trepidation. "Luv?"
"You didn't tell me you had a third leg!" And Simon wants to crack a joke and almost does until you begin to play with his cock. You lift it up by the head, let it drop, it goes plop, rinse, and repeat. He didn't think he was that big but thanks for the compliment. He thinks.
But you're still so surprised by Big Dick Riley that sexytimes doesn't even happen anymore because you're too busy playing with and studying Simon's third leg.
And Simon's ass is so crazy in love and lust that he lets you lmao.
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3archangelsaints · 1 day
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Simon doesn’t like touch, and no one dares touches him. His history of sexual assault also meant he’s never pursued anything healthy sexual relations, and that’s fine with him. He doesn’t care.
So when he sees you and something urges him to ask you out, he doesn’t care that you say you’re waiting for marriage. I think it makes him feel safe with you, that you wouldn’t try to initiate anything with him.
But you’re also a very affectionate person, at least not so much in the beginning but throughout the months of dating him, he notices the way you subtly press closer. Especially after a hard day and you want to be comforted. You don’t push it, you know it’d push him away.
But then the one time you’d rather just be on your own, frustrated and mad, you come home surprised he’s there. You bump into him, “Sorry.”
And you’re changing out of your work clothes and into running clothes.
“It’s dark.” He states.
“Then come with.” And he does.
———
When you get home you shower first, before he showers, and you’re already in an old men’s shirt and shorts, bare feet padding around your house.
“Why are you with me?”
“I like you.”
“Are you sure? You don’t even hug me, or, or, hold my hand, kiss my cheek?” You say softly, stuttering from the emotions.
“Do you want me to?”
“I want you, to want to. Simon, not cause I want it, because you want to do it.”
He’s silent, which isn’t unusual, but he nods, looking down at you.
“I’ve never kissed anyone.” He admits. You sit on the kitchen counter, motioning him to come closer, he does.
His eyes crinkles, as he returns the gesture.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.” He leans in tilting his head and you lean in, hands in your lap, trying not to scare him off.
“You can put your hands on me.” You look surprised and smile bashfully, hands on his shoulders, he kisses you softly. When he pulls away he asks, “Can I hug you?”
“Yes.” He’s pressing himself into you, arms gingerly holding you. “Something happen?”
“Jus’ missed you.” He buries his head in your neck, his stubble tickling you.
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Y/N: You want to keep me safe but the only way to do that is to wrap me in bubble wrap and hide me in a cave Ghost: Believe me, I've thought about it
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forsworned · 2 days
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USE YOUR HEART ft. NEEDY!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY
Warning(s): Sexual Content, Grinding, AFAB!Reader, Mentions of Narcotics
Synopsis: Simon is high off of morphine and it reveals his true feelings for reader...
Author's note: Idk because @dmitriene told me to do it and i <3 her
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"I don't wanna be alone."
His voice breaks as he reaches out to you. His usual stoic demeanor had completely diminished in your presence. For the first time, Simon was needy. You gaze down at his hand gently gripping your hand, "I need you." He says. Pleas even. Dark, stormy, and now conflicted eyes are peering up at you and he tugs you toward him. You didn't know how to react. Seeing Simon so injured and broken makes you feel some type of way. Somewhat wrong, but somehow...powerful?
"You need me?" You finally spoke up. His Adam's apple bobs up and down.
"Yes.” He croaks out.
The morphine that has been coursing in his system finally kicks in and you were experiencing the lowering inhibitions of Simon Riley, not Ghost.
The Simon Riley laying out on the infirmary bed before you at this moment was vulnerable, desperate, and reliant on your presence and aid--insistent even.
But naturally, you're hesitant. A situation like this is compromising and delicate. Given the nature of the circumstances and his stature, he is obviously still at an advantage, but it feels wrong to pounce at the opportunity. You don't want to feel like a predator skulking about as he studies you with reliant, onyx hues.
You look at the time on your watch.
12:38 AM
It was quite late, but the tugging of his hand over yours disrupts your train of thought.
"C'mere. I want you by my side." He susurrates and you're in a bit of a trance at the resonance of his soothing, sleepy tone. It's not its usual gruff and gravelly, but instead a lulling rasp that pulls you in.
"It's late, Lieutenant." You gently chide as you attempt to pry his fingers off your wrist, but he takes his free hand over your own and pulls you flush against him. Goddamn, he was strong. Even in his dazed and confused state, he is built like a fuckin' boulder.
But he's not listening to you as he fiddles with your fingers, tracing over the skin and where it creases and finely wrinkles. Over the nail bed, and the unfiled ridges, down to the chip that you earned from earlier when you reached for your gun in your holster too quickly. He's thumbing over the half-moon on your thumb and then the scar on the meat of your palm before he brings it to his masked lips as if to kiss it over the fabric.
A small, shuddering breath escapes you, and your eyes are glazing over before you swallow thickly. He cups your hand over his jaw and inhales sharply as he closes his eyes.
"Don't care." He replies, curling his bicep around your waist and secures you so have nowhere to go.
Your heart thuds at the contact and your cheeks are teeming with warmth. And suddenly it feels like the heat in there is turning to the max because you're sweating like a dog under his keen gaze and snug hold on you.
"Want you to stay." And it's as if he's speaking purely from the heart when he looks at you like that. You want nothing more but to crumble into his arms and cave into whatever feelings are lurking within you, but there's an urge to maintain your professionalism. And Simon senses that. He wants you to let go.
Why? He didn't know. Be it the drugs, the near-death experience, or the fact that you look utterly gorgeous under the strong moonlight or all of the above; he wants you with all his being.
His bandage-wrapped fingers loop around the bottom of his mask and he's lifting it up to expose just his lips as it scrunches up under his nose. Even if you have seen the sight a multitude of times over the years of knowing your Lieutenant, it is always as awestriking as it was the first time you saw it. His pretty rosy lips kiss at your wrist and you're stunned.
"Stay." He croaks out.
"And then what?"
You can't help yourself from asking such a silly question. You just need to feel needed by him because there is just something about the clinginess in his body language that pulls you in for more. If Simon is being honest right now, he's on cloud motherfucking nine. He's so high that everything feels like tunnel vision right now and you're the only damn thing he can focus on, not that he would want to focus on anything else.
So when he's telling you to stay, he damn well means it. But he also wants more. He's telling himself not to be too hasty, at least the logical part of him, though he is following his heart's desires. And his heart is conveying to him that he yearns for your closeness, for all your regard, and selfishly enough, your own heart.
At this point, all reasoning is being tossed out the window when he fixates on your trembling, shimmering eyes and your quivering glossed lips that are slightly chapped. But he's thinking to himself, one kiss. One kiss would fix that for you.
Simon is no longer struggling to sit up when he's tensing you closer to him feeling the sweat wetting the small of your back. His brows slightly raise and you feel your cheeks flush at his little observation, but he's not halting his motion to close the short distance between you two. He's bringing his hand over the nape of your neck, carding his scarred fingers through the tendrils of your hair and a soft sigh leaves your lips.
And the way you visibly relax draws out a small smile onto his lips as your foreheads collide. You don't even dare to open your eyes. You swallow thickly as you feel your breath become shallow and sharp. It fans against his lips and he's feels even more enticed to just kiss you.
"Dammit, [name]..." He finally breathes out. And you're eyes are on him and he can feel a thrill creep up his chine when he sees the flash of longing overcome your half lidded gaze.
And now you're yearning to bridge the distance, creeping closer to him, nudging your nose against his, and faintly brushing your lips over the stubble on his philtrum. You notice how his chest huffs out, stuttering as it leaves his lungs.
Long blonde lashes tickle at your own as your lips graze and you're heart is thumping out of your chest. You feel yourself holding back from your own hankerings but the moment that Simon brings his thumb to skim over your bottom lip, you feel the tension snap like a rubberband and you're crashing your lips against his. To hell with ethical conduct and decorum, you want nothing more than to satiate your thirst for him.
And with every kiss, you feel like your hunger is being appeased. The ferocity that grows in the depths of your groin is clawing out as you clamber on top of him and you're tuning out the noisy heartbeat monitor that's becoming rapid. And it cuts out, thanks to the swift movement of Simon pulling out the cord so he can nestle his hands under your shirt and slip his tongue between your open-mouth kisses.
He's losing himself in you and he doesn't care because the feeling of your nails digging into his abdomen is more than pleasant. As if the morphine wasn't dizzying enough, he was starting to feel like he was reaching some sort of seventh heaven. Especially when he hears the soft whimper that leaves your lips when he thumbs atop your hardened bud and gently tweaks it between his fingers.
The tent that's starting to feel like it's pitching between his legs is getting ground upon and he shudders at how fucking good it feels.
"Fuck." He murmurs as he lifts your shirt up to expose your breast to him and he's latching his lips to your sensitive nipple. It's a soft probing of his tongue against the erogenous zone and you're instantly arching your back and he grasps at your hips to abrade your clothed sex against him. And it feels so fucking good.
So, naturally, you're not stopping. And Simon can't help but become absorbed in your pleasure. Your milky moans are like music to his ears as he switches over to your other nipple. The friction builds in your lower belly as you get into a good rhythm and it becomes increasingly euphoric with every roll of your hips. And fuck, it's not even much but the way you are so touch-starved makes it all the better.
"Simon, I—hah—gonna—" You moan out, throwing your head back in ecstasy as his tongue swirls around your bud. He's already addicted to the way you're saying his name between your whimpers.
"Cum." He commands, as he clutches your hips to help achieve your oncoming orgasm. His sexy, raspy voice is enough to send you over the edge and a terrific gasp escapes you as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. Your breath is gone and you feel like your voice melts into a deep, hot sweetness that soothes your electrifying nerves.
There is a brief pause of silence as you catch your breath and the embarrassment skulks in and you don't want to withdraw from him. You only focus on his heartbeat which slows and his breath that levels. Your throat tightens as you shift awkwardly and his hand on your hip feels a little limp. You take another moment to memorize how he smelled to help you calm your nerves.
The aroma of his natural musk enmeshed with the faint scent of cypress digs into your brain as you try your hardest to engrave his essence before it slips away. With one more breath of courage, you withdraw from him to face the music but it seems he's fast asleep. His thumb is still hooked into the belt loop of your jeans, and you can't help but giggle at him.
A small sigh leaves your lips as you calm down from your climax and your shaky fingers, lower his mask back down so it's stretching over his neck. Maybe if you slip away right now he'll think that it was just a nice little wet dream...
But you feel his hand cling to you as you try make your sweet escape.
"Thought I told ya to stay." He mumbles under his breath while he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you and making certain you're not leaving his side anytime soon.
There's a feeling of assurance that fluxes over your edginess and you can finally breathe again. Simon's body feels weightless as he lays in this infirmary bed with your toasty form atop his. It feels heavenly to have your figure pressed against him and he hums in contentment. He's replaying the sound of your moans and the way your body writhed under his touch. And you're starting to feel the rigidity of his dirty thoughts against the zipper of your jeans.
"You sure?" You murmur back, feeling the warmth sidle back into your cheeks.
His grin grows under his mask and you can feel it against your forehead. Sleep overtakes him, but he gives you one last squeeze.
"'m sure."
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cntloup · 2 days
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random pics simon sends you when on deployment
yes the cats have adopted him he's a cat dad now :')
he finds a less crowded and somewhat quiet spot and takes out your photo. he talks to you for a while as if you're there and promises to come back to you.
he goes over all the things he wishes to tell you, nearly tearing up as his heart clenches in his chest at how much he misses you.
he writes you a letter whenever he can or whenever it's not safe to communicate through phones, reassuring you of his safety and that he will come back in one piece, and always seals it with a kiss.
he makes sure to let you know he's taking care of himself, knowing how much you worry about him and sends you pics of him taking a break, eating and drinking, relaxing for a while.
the flowers remind him of you, of home. their beauty and tenderness bring a sense of calmness and serenity amidst the chaos and violence of war just as you do in his life.
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a66-1 · 1 day
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I NEED DRUNK SIMON DRABBLE OR SMTH ALL OKAY BUT I NEED DRUNK SIMON AAAAAAA
thx in advance 😈
(btw ur rules and regulations link isn’t working)
- HalloHello
thank you king for the idea and for the heads up
I accidentally privated the post so it'll be working right after this.
ANYWAYS
Drunk! Simon x Not so drunk! Reader
TW: Very drunk Simon. I think that's it
A/N: fangirling really hard rn
semi-proofread
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You stayed up a little later becasue Simon said he'd be home soon, on a little drinking night with his buddies. He's usually good with controlling himself while drinking, but after missions? Man gets shitfaced and is all hugs and kisses and I love yous.
He's a sweetheart when drunk. Not to say he's not always a sweetheart, but when he has no inhibitions and is actually calm and not tense, he's a big old baby. His inner child really plays out.
You hear Gaz pull into your driveway, as he's usually the designated driver for the after mission drinks. You open your door to say hi to Simon but..
You see Gaz get out of the car with Simon. You open your door, waving. Simon doesn't wave back, and Gaz laughes quickly. He brings him up to the steps, and helps Simon walk up the stairs to your front door.
"Hey, darling. I'm handing you your.. Uh.. Very... Drunk boyfriend." Gaz holds back a hard laugh when Simon, his big self, stumbles forward to lean half his weight on you. You support yourself on the door confused.
"How-What-When--" You look for words but they fail you. Gaz shrugs.
"Even we don't know. Johnny told him to slow down, but.." Gaz gestures to the mess Simon is, and tips his head.
"Don't mean to leave you with him, but I got to drop off Price. Just.. Update me, yeah? I don't know why he'd drink so much," Gaz gives you a nice smile, and walks back to his car to drive off. You take Simon's hand, and try to lead him in. Simon laughs softly, a laugh you rarely hear, and he kisses your face a few times.
He gets in the house, just to crumple to the entrys mudroom seat, and leans back back into some of his own work shoes.
"Oh my, ya'... Y'r such a sore for sight eyes.." He mumbles. You tilt your head, in an 'excuse me' motion. He shakes his head, before trying to stand, and falling back.
"No no, love, a-a sight for sore eyes.. Yea' a sight.." He sighs, "I wish I had a girlfriend tha' wa-was like ya'.."
You snicker, covering your mouth. You manage to get him to the couch, and then your bed, taking off his sweaty shirt and changing his jeans to PJ pants.
"'F I ev'r 'ad a girl, 'd wan' her like ya'.." His words seemed to decline in coherence as he got more tired. You nodded slightly, smiling crookedly.
"Like me, you say? Why's that?" You kiss his temple, and he smiles warmly. His smile is the prettiest you've seen, and you love when he's even slightly drunk because he flashes it so much more.
"'M safe with ya'.. Why wouldn't I wan' a girl like ya'," he smiles, and takes your hand, and holds it.. Like a baby. His big ass hand is wrapped around your thumb.
You softly rub his scalp, as he moves himself onto your chest. You have the TV playing, watching your favorite show. Simon is mumbling.. Something, your sure, but he's just putty in your hands. Imagine: a big burly man, drunk, and infatuated in his girlfriend (but he apparently doesn't know) like a small school boy. It's adorable seeing him defenseless for once, relaxed shoulders, and his gaze is just as strong as he gazes up at you. You peck his forehead, and rub the bridge of his previously broken nose.
"Hey, Si, guess what?" You smile softly, your hand holding his jaw. He hums and tilts his head. "Did you know that I'm actually your girlfriend?"
He stares dumbfounded for a moment, before shaking his head.
"Can't be, mm... Y'r too pretty for me." He kisses your palm, and smiles.
"I promise. 2 years strong, honey." You kiss his lips softly, smiling at his cluelessness. His hands grip the sides of your shirt, looking up at you. He doesn't believe you, crazily, he's still got his insecurities.
"No no, ya'... Ya' shouldn't be.. Wasting Y'r time.." You shush him with another kiss, before his head falls onto his chest. He sighs.
"Wasting my time? Si, honey, I love spending my time on you." You kiss the crown of his head, and scratch his head. He mumbles more incoherent thoughts. He's lights out very quickly, and you follow suit a few minutes later.
The morning comes, and so does a very hungover Simon. He groans, sitting up, and wiping his jaw harshly. You were awake, on your phone when you feel him shift.
"Oh, hey baby." You smiled, and out your phone down. He groans, and nuzzles into your neck, complaining about how his head hurts.
"I know, I know. I got some advil for you." You grab the bottle from the side table, and feed him 2.
"God.. I'm.. Was I..?" He rubs his eyes and gives up, seeking comfort in your arms. Your rub his head some more, and move your fingers to rub his temples.
"You gotta stop drinking so hard, baby." You whisper, "I know you don't do it often, but.. Are the mornings worth it?"
He nods, to your surprise, and leans into your hands. "Mm.. Yeah.. It's worth it.. Cuz'.. Ya' rub my head and kiss me and.. Mm... Hug me.."
You kiss his head, and shake your own.
"Next time, just ask okay?" You get a nod as a response from him. He whispers a thank you into your neck, before drifting off to sleep until 1, like usual.
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ahh this was so cute to write and I fell asleep writing it so. thats why I'm posting it in the morning.
by babes!!
-a661
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call-me-doll-face · 2 days
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Thinking about....
Smitten Ghost who watches the pretty little thing across the bar, amazed at how someone so small can out drink he and Johnny combined.
Smitten Ghost who, after letting johnny shove bourbon down his throat all night, finally has the balls to approach you.
Smitten Ghost who is baffled when you look at him and immediately laugh because it "took him long enough."
Smitten Ghost who, much to his dismay, and Johnny's delight, allows you to pull him onto the dance floor.
"I don' dance, love."
"You do now, big guy"
Smitten Ghost who stands stiffly, sending death glares Johnny's way and wondering how in the hell he managed to get himself into this, as your pretty little body moves against his, causing his blood to rush south.
Smitten Ghost who's attention is immediately drawn back to you as you boldly cup him through his jeans, little hand squeezing him so perfectly, and a sly little smirk on those criminal fucking lips as you say,
"So, you going to give me a ride?"
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 3 days
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[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader
Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.
Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending
“Are you married?”
He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.
“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.
He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.
The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.
It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?
He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.
No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.
He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.
I’m sorry.
The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.
Please stay.
The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.
Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.
He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.
Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.
His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.
Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.
I miss you so much.
but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.
That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.
You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.
He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.
The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.
You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.
“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.
“Hey.” He mumbles.
The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.
Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...
He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.
“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.
because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.
It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.
“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”
“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”
“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”
“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”
“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”
“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”
“Anything else you want to say?”
“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”
“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”
He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.
Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.
“My pleasure.”
a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j
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