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[xoxomingi]

simon riley x reader

summary: simon gives you a toy, made just like him before he leaves — and shows you exactly how to use it.

warnings: sexual content, toyplay, soft dom vibes from simon. wc: 895

you were curled in simon’s lap with your cheek on his chest and your arms tucked in tight, practically hidden inside one of his oversized hoodies. it smelled like him. warm and worn and safe.

but tonight, even that wasn’t enough to keep your heart steady.

“you’re leaving tomorrow,” you whispered, your voice small.

he hummed against your temple. “early.”

you didn’t answer right away. his hand moved in slow circles on your thigh, calm, like he wasn’t thinking about the goodbye coming in less than twelve hours.

but you were. you were thinking about the ache you’d carry when his warmth was gone, when the nights got cold and quiet and lonely again.

and simon knew that. which is why, after a long pause, he said:

“got somethin’ for you.”

you looked up, eyes soft. “you already gave me your hoodie… and your cologne… and—”

he smirked faintly. “not that. somethin’ else.”

he leaned to the side, reached under the bed, and pulled out a small black box. sleek. expensive. unmarked.

your brows pinched. “…what’s in there?”

he offered it to you, the weight solid in your hands. “open it, lovie.”

you hesitated. unclicked the clasp.

then froze.

your mouth fell open. cheeks flushed hot.

and with a gasp, you shut the lid so fast it clicked.

“simon.”

he laughed—a deep, rough chuckle from his chest that only came out when he was amused and smug.

“what?” he said, like he didn’t just hand you the most inappropriate gift in existence.

you stayed buried behind your hands, voice barely a squeak.

“you got me… that—”

“that?” he teased, leaning closer. “you can say it.”

you shook your head fast. “no i can’t.”

“you can,” he smirked. “go on, lovie.”

you peeked at him between your fingers. “s’so dirty, simon.”

he smiled — slow, wicked, but soft around the edges.

“only for you.”

he pulled the box open again, lifting the thick, flushed, heavy toy out with one hand — and watched your face go red all over again.

your eyes dropped to the toy. and that’s when it hit you. the shape. the curve. the exact way it flared near the base.

your lips parted again. breath hitching.

“…wait.”

he tilted his head. “notice anything?”

“is that—” you looked from the toy to him and back again, face burning. “that’s not just a… it’s you?”

“mhm.” he rolled it between his fingers. “exact mold. took hours. made sure they got it perfect.”

your whole body shivered. you were trying to hide your face again, and simon leaned in close, whispering like he was telling you a secret:

“so when i’m gone, you won’t even miss me… ‘cause i’ll still be right here.”

you didn’t mean to lay back for him so easily.

but he always made it feel like something soft. something sweet. something right.

he helped you strip out of his hoodie, leaving you in nothing but your pretty skin, already warm with need. his eyes roamed every inch of you like you were art.

“so fuckin’ beautiful,” he muttered, kissing down your chest.

his fingers slid between your thighs, slow and easy, parting you so he could feel the sticky heat there.

“already wet for me, huh?” he smirked against your hip. “you like the thought of it?”

you nodded shyly. “it just… it really looks like you.”

“feels like me too.”

he dragged his fingers through your slick, then wrapped them around the toy. he stroked it up and down slowly, coating it in you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“ready?”

you breathed out, “yes.”

he nudged the thick tip to your entrance and you gasped, hips twitching.

“fuck,” you whined, clinging to the sheets. “it… it feels like you.”

“yeah?” he rasped, easing it deeper. “you remember me that well, bunny?”

you nodded, eyes wet. “feels the same. i swear, it’s just like you.”

he groaned softly, pressing it in until the base nearly kissed your skin. your walls squeezed around it, body clenching as you whimpered under the stretch.

“look at you,” he murmured, brushing your hair back. “takin’ it like a good girl.”

he moved it slow. deep. steady thrusts that had your thighs shaking and your breath hitching in your chest.

“this is how i want you to do it,” he said, voice wrecked. “when you’re alone. just like this.”

he guided your hand to the base. “go on. try it for me.”

your fingers curled around it. shy. unsure. but when you started to move it the way he had, simon lost his mind.

“that’s it, bunny… fuck yourself. pretend it’s me. pretend i’m right here, stretchin’ you out just like this.”

your breaths turned into high, choked whines as your hand moved faster, the toy hitting the perfect spot with each thrust. your back arched. your eyes rolled.

“si— simon— i can’t—”

“you can,” he said firmly. “you will.”

his fingers rubbed tight, desperate circles on your clit as you cried out, the pressure finally snapping.

you came hard around it, sobbing into his shoulder, legs trembling.

and he praised you the entire time.

“that’s it… good fuckin’ girl… so perfect, takin’ all of me like that.”

he held you after. whispered soft things against your forehead. and as he brushed your hair back, he murmured:

“think of me when you use it, yeah?”

[ourmoodwaves]

🐱ྀི ⋆🐾° ᡣ𐭩

[earthangeal]

A mural of a forest in the South Bronx, New York. Captured by Thomas Hoepker, 1983

Mural Art by Alan Sonfist, 1978. The building still exists, however the mural is no longer there

[momenalmdhoun]

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[eclipse-coqu]

[violetsinblacknwhite]

there’s something on your mind, you’re gonna leave me behind

[dusktodawner]

[theamoristwriter]

I need some time to wrap my head around this scary shit.

🎥 : Adolescence (2025)

[enigmaticgirl]

[xoxomingi]

john price x sweetheart!reader

summary: you get caught playing with price’s pistol, and he makes sure you learn your lesson

warnings: spanking, suggestive behavior, soft dom price, aftercare. wc: 1.2k

you were so not supposed to be touching that.

it was just laying there. on the dresser. totally unattended. just begging to be picked up.

so obviously… you did.

“pew pew,” you whispered, holding it with both hands like you’d seen him do a million times, trying to copy the serious look he always had when he aimed.

you stood in front of the mirror, turning a little to the side for the “cool angle,” feet planted, arms out.

“this is captain john price,” you said in a fake deep voice, lips twitching with a grin, “target’s in sight. i repeat. target’s in sight.”

you snorted.

“permission to shoot on sight, lads. wife’s being a real brat today.”

you cracked up at your own joke, shoulders shaking. you aimed again.

“nah, i’ll take the shot myself.”

you were still giggling when the door opened behind you.

you froze.

his voice came low. calm. serious. terrifying.

“sweetheart.”

you turned slowly. still holding the gun. eyes wide.

“…hi.”

price raised a brow. stepped further into the room. shut the door behind him with a soft click.

you panicked.

“i-it’s not loaded!”

he held out his hand.

you rushed over and gave it to him, placing it gently in his palm like you were returning something precious to a museum.

“i wasn’t gonna do anything, i swear, i was just being stupid—”

“on the bed.”

your mouth dropped open.

“john—”

“now, love.”

your legs moved before your brain could catch up. you went to the edge of the bed, face hot, eyes wide, heart hammering.

he sat down slowly behind you.

patted his thigh.

“over my knee.”

you whimpered.

“…but i was just playing—”

he gave you a look.

you folded instantly, crawling over his lap with a breathless little whine, laying yourself across him like you knew you deserved it.

his hand slid up your back. warm. steady. comforting.

then it slid lower—under your skirt—flipping it up to reveal your panties. he pulled them down just enough to bare you.

his hand smoothed over your skin.

“you don’t touch weapons without my permission,” he said softly.

you swallowed. nodded.

“could’ve hurt yourself. even if it wasn’t loaded”

“i know,” you whispered.

“what’s the rule?”

“no touching your things without asking.”

“good girl.”

and then he spanked you.

sharp and firm. not too rough—but enough to make your breath hitch, your toes curl, your hips squirm.

you whimpered.

he rubbed the sting out gently. then did it again.

and again.

and again.

your thighs trembled. tears started to well in your eyes.

he gave you a few more, a little faster now, each one landing just right—making your breath catch and your legs kick a little. you sniffled.

“john—” your voice cracked.

his hand didn’t stop.

“that’s what happens when you act out, sweetheart,” he said, still calm. still soft. like he was teaching you a lesson, not punishing you.

a sob bubbled up in your throat. the last few spanks were deep, full-handed, hot against your skin.

“hurts…”

“i know it does.”

he gave you one more—slow and deliberate—and then finally soothed it, rubbing over your burning skin with long, soft strokes.

you were sniffling now. blinking fast. face pressed into the sheets.

he leaned over you and kissed your shoulder.

“all done.”

he helped you up so gently, pulling your panties back up and tucking your skirt down. you winced a little as he settled you in his lap, your thighs draped over his.

his hands cradled your face instantly.

“shhh, i’ve got you,” he murmured, brushing your tears away with his thumbs, fingers cupping your cheeks.

you were still hiccuping soft little breaths, flushed and watery-eyed, clinging to his shirt like it was the only thing grounding you.

“m’sorry,” you whispered.

“i know, baby. i know you didn’t mean it.”

he kissed your cheek. then your temple. then your forehead.

“just scared me, yeah? don’t ever touch something like that again.”

you nodded fast.

“never.”

he gave you a little smile, stroking his thumb along your jaw.

“that’s my girl.”

you melted against him, still pouting a little, snuggled under his chin.

his hand slid down and gave your thigh a gentle tap—just a playful little smack to make you squeak.

“oi,” he teased. “don’t make that face. you earned every one of those.”

“meanie,” you mumbled, still cuddled up to him.

he chuckled low in his chest, kissed the top of your head, and pulled you tighter into him like he wasn’t ever letting go.

“yeah, yeah. but i’m your meanie.”

[ourmoodwaves]

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[l3mniscata]

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[momenalmdhoun]

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