#simon ghost hc

[anythingneverythingnstuffs]

spicy!simon 'ghost' riley hc

masterlist

man is like at least 6'4 without boots, at least 6'7 with

but no matter his height, mans will drop to his knees if you ask him to in that commanding voice of yours

is totally dominant, when he is dominant, but also able to switch that off completely in order to obey your every command

it was *months* into your relationship with your neighbor, Simon, that you discovered this power you held over him

sometimes you wondered if it was too much power

Sunday mornings became your favorite. Sleeping in with Simon in his (or your) bed, his arms wrapped around you, his legs probably tangled with yours

the two of you would share an intimate morning, then have breakfast together

after breakfast, you would watch him take the dirty dishes, rinse them off, and load them in the dishwasher, all while not wearing a single piece of closing

he'd come back over to you, and you'd command him to drop to his knees

then you would reward him with his dessert. he's been such a good boy for you, after all.

[itsoutrageouss]

It’s the first time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that something in him changes profoundly. You had always had your different skill sets out on the field, it was what made you such a powerful duo for the task force. You were sly, agile, a killer in the dark and he was a brute show of force and strength, able to kill with his bare hands. You argued a lot, though. Your differences that made you work so well also made you clash time and time again. He found you annoying. You found him arrogant.

But after a mission, Ghost finds you collapsed on the floor in an empty building— Crying. He’d never seen you do that before, but he knew you were a softer more sensitive soul, you were just good at hiding it.

He was moving before he realised it, crouching down in front of you, eyes narrowed as he tried to find your gaze that was lost in a heap of warm tears. His hands got clammy and his throat dry because how could he make it stop? It was like the sight had reached in and seized a part of him long gone, maybe one he’d never found before now.

“Stop crying.” He said foolishly, but his tone had lost its usual edge, and the very rare lilt of pleading had laced into his voice. Why did he suddenly grab your shoulders and press your trembling body into his? He had no clue but he wanted to shield you from whatever had made you look so vulnerable before him.

A part of him didn’t like seeing this, didn’t recognise the garbled sound of soft sobs, the way your body’s strength seemed to evaporate into a fragile, soft one that he wanted to pick up and put back together. Another part of him was sucking in this moment, afraid it would get lost and maybe feeling a bit guilty about it. But this feeling of… was it protection? Protection, yes. He’d never had it like this before. Usually, protecting means killing and hurting. Right now it meant nurturing as your small hands reached around his neck and you curled into him. He reacted immediately, sitting down and scooping you into his lap.

He closed his eyes, his chin resting on your head with a sigh. He had no idea what came next. This had to change your dynamic in some way because he couldn’t ever look at you the same. He saw your softness and maybe he fell in love with it right there, and wanted to be the one you showed it to. Only him.

“Im sorry” You whispered into his chest. His hands flexed around you, fighting the urge to smother you even more against him.

“Dont say that. Just keep holding onto me.” His voice was more hoarse than usual as his fingers unconsciously combed through your hair.

Whatever had happened, he was sure you felt it too, or you would’ve never let him this close. And he wished for everything you would let him again one day.

series masterlist

[cosmicamor]

⌞ 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 '𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓' 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐏 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 ⌝

⭑ if there is anything simon riley wants after a mission, it's to come home and get his hands on you

⭑ to get to play with him like this oh my god

⭑ being his pretty princess and letting him fuck your pretty holes

⭑ holding hands while he's eating you out is a must. he needs to know he's making you feel good, taking his time to get you ready for him

⭑ he is so handsy. has to have his hands all over you as you bounce on him, helping you move

⭑ wanting to take care of him after he's had a rough day at work

⭑ simon has a size kink. he doesn't care about weight, just height. he loves feeling bigger than he already is

⭑ mans is big. we know it. he knows it. so playing with him is always a nice fun treat

⭑ he would be a messy lover. getting his cum absolutely all over you. just wanting to see how pretty you look covered in his loads

⭑ you were being mouthy so he has to remind you who the lieutenant is

⭑ i 100% believe this is how feral i would be with simon. wanting him to breed me so bad omg

⭑ i just know this man GRUNTS when he's taking you from behind WOOF WOOF

⭑ he loves measuring to see how deep he'll be before fucking you

⭑ having to pull over and fuck you on the side of the road because he can't go a second without having his hands on you

⭑ when he eats you out i just know he eats like he's never going to eat again, like a starved man depraved of food

ᯓ★ disclaimer : nsfw. minors dni. all character p link posts contain links from x, some of which may be unavailable if you don’t have an account or have been removed by the original posters. i cannot help this but i will try my best to update links when i can. sometimes trying to open them a few times works x

[abusivegymrat]

Being the only female in 141, but not in the “they all wanna fuck me uwu” way…

cute lil drabble (im sleep deprived as hell)

wc: 243

These men have no idea how to do the most basic tasks, taking care of themselves be damned.

They looked at you like they saw a ghost the first time you sat down with something on your plate that wasn’t a can of corn, beans, tuna or MRE’s. Holy shit, you’re eating from a plate, love!

And it was like you grew three heads when you wiped the table after Gaz spilled water, why didn’t you let it dry? Or that time you had to broom the dead mice out of the safe house. We could have lain down next to them, sweetheart! Oh when you made dinner for them? You won their hearts…

This wasn’t about gender roles, no, you weren’t doing this because you had to. You weren’t the problem for doing it, they were the problem for being so fucking dumb.

“Are you lot some sort of loyalty as in riches, or fucking rags?”

“Wha’?” Simon blurts.

“Are you this incompetent because you’ve never done anything and people did shit for you your entire life, or are you just… straight completely useless with no excuse?” The genuineness in your voice is a shock factor itself, enough to make the captain’s eyebrows raise.

“Lass, are you okay—“

“Soap, you just told me you’ve never held a broom in your life.”

One time, Gaz was cleaning ketchup from the table with rounded motions, smearing it over the table. Your breath hitched. “GARRICK!”

They’re nervous around you since.

Check out my masterlist!

[partiallysame]

Simon Riley Headcanons

- Will sit in silence for so long it scares the shit out of you when he does say something.

- Had to start making noises when he moved around the house bc the giant is someone so quiet and again scared the shit out of you every time he entered the room.

- Can remember everything, the most insane details but still gets it wrong like: you ask him to grab your black boots and he’s like “ah yes the boots you wore on our 4th date when you ordered this specific food and the waiters name was Steve” uh ya ok sure those boots. But he comes back holding heels not boots. And they’re blue not black and then is genuinely confused as to why You’re confused

- Big hot sexy man but sadly just a man. What do you mean you packed for a two week trip? Simon there are only 3 shirts in that bag. “Threes enough” no pants? “M’wearing them”

- Will hold your purse for you and if you tell him to stop holding it weird (straight out in front of him) he’ll sling it over his shoulder and next thing you know his pockets are empty and your purse is full of his keys, wallet, knives.

- Tries to get you to hit Johnny if he makes any crude comments (or unfunny jokes actually if he speaks to you at all) Legit whispering in your ear like the lil angel and devil shoulder guys “jus one punch lovie”

- Old fashioned manners (I see this one a lot in Simon stuff and big agree) you are never paying. Never touching door. In or out of the car? Sit and wait patiently. Sidewalk rule? Fuck any car for even thinking about driving near the sidewalk YOU are on. Princess treatment for life with this one

- So easy to train. Big man loves following an order. Something you want him to do? Done you never have to ask again. Whether it be buying a specific brand. How to wash specific types of clothes. Shoes off household? He’s got house slippers the next time he comes over

- Nerves of steal. Big bad Ghost. Except when he meets your friends for the first time. Brunch with a bunch of girls just like you? Just put him down pls double tap to the head what the fuck does slay mean. He never learned this language. He texts soap during the brunch to translate for him (I saw a headcannon? Actual canon? Once that said soap had 6 sisters. And ya agreed)

[kruegerspillow]

simon riley uses lame excuses just to buy you random things (his love language, gift giving)

"Huh?" A confused voice rang through your room.

It didn't take you long to realize that it was just Simon. He stood in your doorway with an almost observant look on his face, and that made you quite cautious, too.

"Simon?" You murmured underneath your breath.

He took a few steps closer to you, causing you to sit up on the edge of your bed. His brows furrowed as he towered over you with a small sniff.

His wandering eyes met yours before he leaned down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, your body relaxing with the familiarity of the warmth from his body. His nose brushed against your pulse point, causing your eyes to widen.

"When did ya change your soap?" His question made you pause. Was that really the first thing he'd noticed?

"Um, just today. I couldn't buy my usual one, I've been busy and it ran out...I'll probably go and buy it again in a few days."

He hummed in reply, backing away to give you your personal space back.

"I liked tha' old one better," Simon mumbled, though it was a bitter lie. Everything looks and smells good on ya, he longed to say.

"What's the brand? I'll buy it fo' ya."

"Oh please, you don't need to—"

"Don't give me tha' bullshit. C'mon, spit it out, love."

With a reluctant sigh, you did as he told you. And for the first time in your life, you thought—maybe being spoiled wasn't that bad.

kruegerspillow © 2024 — reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[astrxsee]

mdni 18+

simon is the type of guy who doesn’t like you to go to bed mad at him. how could he when all he wants to do is make his bird happy? so instead of talking it out, like most people do, he fucks it out of you instead…

his big, veiny cock laid heavy over your stomach, the tip glistening with beads of his spend. your front covered in his cum, after many rounds of him showing you just how much he hated it when y’all fought. leaving you absolutely fucked out, your eyes lost in the back of your head.

‘i’m sorry, lovie, i just can’t help it.’ he’d say pressing kisses into your neck, his voice almost a begging whimper. ‘I never want you to leave me. please say you’ll forgive me?’

you do, only after he eats his cum out of your pretty pussy.

[forsaire]

soap isn't scared to tell his parents he's dating a boy

no

he's scared to tell his parents that the boy is English

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

Hhhhh stalker ghost who you know has been stalking you for the past month or so and yet. He's done nothing about it. And somehow he paid for your bills? Yeah imagine moving out when your rent has been paid five times over, envelopes full of cashed stashed neatly beside your desk on random days found when you wake up.

If a lil stalking is all it takes to survive in this economy, who's to blame you. Okay maybe they will when that familiar blonde hair shows up one day. Almost unrecognizable without the mask in sight, flowers concealing the lower half of his face.

He's shyer than you expected, letting you lead him in while he just barges inside. Closing the door behind him perfectly because you know he's been inside the kitchen is still spotless from his last visit.

"Uhm- Hi?"

"Simon."

"...simon?"

"Mhm."

"Okay, lets start over then? Hello Simon."

Shifty eyes still at you for a moment. Taking a deep breath and out,

"Love you."

Then he's walking out. No room for opposition when he unlocks and closes the door in a fraction of a second. The perks of long legs.

You reach for the flowers to find them freshly ripped from the ground. Roots still attached when they go into a vase. He drops off a soil filled pot and some cash next time he disappears. Its odd, he reminds you of someone you once knew. Like a forgotten memory.

[khioneee]

simon is possessive and obsessive.

“you’re mine.”

the sound of his hips slapping against yours echoed through the room, each thrust harder and faster than the last. the force of him inside you was overwhelming, leaving you gasping for breath. a broken cry escaped your lips as your orgasm hit, tearing through you at the unforgiving pace he’d set. your body trembled beneath him, bouncing uncontrollably with each thrust as you clawed at the floor, desperate for anything to hold on to.

tears blurred your vision, but even through the haze, you could see him—ghost. his massive frame loomed behind you, the white skull mask glowing dimly in the low light. his blue eyes pierced through the shadows, flickering occasionally into a deep, predatory stare before shifting back, as if a monster lurked just beneath the surface.

a shaky, heated smile curled your lips as you caught sight of yourself in the mirror—wrecked, helpless, taken completely by the man behind you. every thrust sent shockwaves through your body, and the way he possessed you made it clear there was no escape.

simon leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, his voice low and rough. “i’m going to make you watch me take you over and over again until you’re nothing but a numb, broken thing.”

then he slammed into you harder, pulling a ragged cry from deep within you. your nails scraped the floor in desperation, but there was no reprieve, only his unrelenting rhythm.

“i’m still angry,” he growled, his words vibrating through you as he thrust deeper, faster. “and i’m going to make sure you understand, love—no other man will ever satisfy you again.”

his pace quickened, every thrust a punishment, every motion a claim. you could feel it—his rage, his desire, and the dark promise that dripped from his voice. and in the mirror, it was all laid bare: the power he had over you, the way he unraveled you completely.

simon was taking you, body and soul, and there was no turning back.

[cod-dump]

After a long mission with no rest:

Price: Dead eyes, he looks like he's going to kill someone. He's mumbling. Do not ask him to repeat himself unless you want his frustrations taken out on you verbally. Has had four cups of coffee and a pack of cigs. Don't look him in the eye.

Soap: He can't keep focus, what is he even looking at? Trails off in the middle of talking. No, he probably won't finish that thought, better luck next time. He has been chewing on his hoodie drawstrings, don't let him swallow them, please.

Ghost: Has been staring at the spot on the wall for the last twenty minutes without blinking. Is he dead? Or sleeping with his eyes open? Either option is possible. Don't touch him, he will bite. Have tea as an offering.

Gaz: Looks like he's about to cry. Nothing productive has come from him since the flight landed. Don't ask him to do anything because it won't get done. Yes, he heard you. No, he will not respond.

Nik: Has been laughing to himself. Did he fly here? Yes. Is he flying back? No his keys are being taken from him, he's passing out in hanger in the back of his bird. Will be mistaken for dead later.

Laswell: She's talking fast but she is not making as much sense as she should. Frustrated, she has her head in her hands. Will fall asleep like that. No, she doesn't want a cup a tea, she wants concentrated caffeine injected into her veins, fuck off.

Graves: If looks could kill... His hair is sentient, he has not touched it since they got to exfil. Southern charm? No, southern sarcasm. He requires thirteen hours of an uninterrupted coma and a pot of coffee.

Alejandro: Incredibly argumentative. Personal space? He doesn't know what that is, doesn't care. Don't be fooled, he's going to start crying if he can't get to a bed in a pitch black room soon.

Rudy: Sarcasm to the max, will make someone cry. If he doesn't answer the first time then don't repeat yourself. He will bitch until he gets to curl up in bed. Don't touch him if you value any and all of your fingers.

Farah: Trying to be overly friendly because she doesn't want to unintentionally upset someone while exhausted. Will say something bitchy then immediately apologize. Please get her some coffee.

Alex: On autopilot, isn't all there. He can go for another two days before passing out. Don’t let him do that. Will say something batshit and then move on without acknowledging it. He's talking to the clowns, do worry about it.

[connorsui]

If your passions called, Simon would answer. Boxes arrived while he was gone, filled with fresh journals for your poems, new pens for your writing, and all kinds of baking supplies to spark your creativity. He wanted you to always feel his presence, even if he was half a world away, each package a testament to his unwavering affection. When he returned, you would often slip him small, handwritten notes—your own words of love and encouragement—folded neatly, and he’d keep them close to his heart, tucked in a pocket as if they were a part of him. The others joked about him looking like a:

“proper husband”

for always stopping to read your handwriting, touching every letter as if every word you wrote was a treasure on its own.

There were nights, long ones, when you’d catch him sitting at the kitchen table, leafing through a scrapbook you’d made during his deployment. Pictures of the two of you, your annotations in the margins, your thoughts and memories, capturing moments he hadn’t even noticed you were holding onto. He’d touch each page, almost reverently, lingering on the edges like he was afraid his touch might ruin the paper. And when you’d join him, sliding into his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, he’d tuck his face into your shoulder, silent, holding you close as if you were the only thing grounding him to this world.

Simon never argued with you; never needed to. He believed in “happy wife, happy life” with a fervency others might never understand. If you didn’t like something, he’d change it without hesitation. If you felt uncomfortable going out he would take you back home in his arms, helping you out of your dress with gentle hands, making your favorite tea in the kitchen, casting you warm, lingering glances as you sipped your cup by his side with the prettiest smile he swears he has never seen before in his life.

There were times you’d tease him, testing the boundaries of his devotion with light-hearted remarks about your whims. But no matter what you said, he never wavered. If anything, his dedication seemed to intensify, his love quiet but resolute, unwavering in the face of your every wish. You could see it in his eyes, the way they softened whenever he looked at you, as though you were the only person in the world he wanted, needed. To Simon, you were perfection, and nothing you did could ever change that.

When it came to intimacy, Simon was utterly faithful. At night, his hands would roam your form reverently, memorizing every curve, every detail he’d missed in his months away. When you traced the veins on his neck, his breaths came out heavy, the weight of his love pressing down on him. Your touch left him trembling, his normally steady hands shaking as he held himself over you, eyes dark with an almost sacred devotion as he rocked into you with slow, deep movements that left him weak.

When you’d murmur his name, kiss his scarred knuckles, and hold him close, Simon felt himself unraveling in your arms, reduced to nothing but his love for you. His broad, muscular form sank against you, a sturdy weight softened by your warmth, and he’d surrender completely, letting you hold him, a silent confession of his trust and vulnerability.

In the stillness of those moments, he would remember a time when he hadn’t believed in softness when life had taught him only to take and endure. But now, in your arms, Simon Riley found a new truth: that he could give, could cherish, and, most of all, could love without fear. And as he drifted to sleep, wrapped in your love, he knew that he had finally found his purpose—not in battle, nor vengeance, but in this quiet, steadfast devotion to the woman who had taught him that he was worthy of peace.

[itsoutrageouss]

More Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley coming into your room at night, no words needed. Follow up on my last post.

His hands are gripping your waist and your tummy, but not only that, he’s actually dragging you downwards with all his strength, pawing at you so your body scoots down the bed, onto his face, ruffling the sheets. The sounds he makes are unholy and like nothing you’ve heard. He’s always barking orders, grunting in disapproval. Now he’s moaning, nearly whining into the wet mess he’s making between your thighs, spit and slick everywhere.

You can’t even see him, only faint moonlight illuminating his bulging arms and head snug between your thighs. You still haven’t said a single coherent word since he came in, running a hand through his short hair, tugging in a way that makes his whole body shiver. He can’t breathe and he fucking loves it, feeling the stress melt from his muscles with every flutter of your hole around his tongue, cramming it inside you.

Everything is a haze. You had been asleep, and now your lieutenants stern, usually hidden mouth was enveloping as much of your pussy as it could and just slurping. Your thighs quivered around his head, feeling worshipped with the way his hands pulled and pulled on your flesh to get you closer.

He inhaled sharply, groaning in his exhale as his shoulders relaxed. You were his free therapy right now. It wasn’t even for you, because he moved up your body at a crucial second, unconsciously edging you. An annoyed whine left your lips, but he was quick to silence you with two fingers slipping between your lips, calloused fingertips pressing down onto your tongue.

“Good to me” was the first words spoken. His voice was hoarse, quiet and you weren’t sure if he was talking more to himself than to you, his eyes narrowed as they observed the way spit pooled at the corners of your lips as you suckled his fingers in contentment. It sounded almost like a surprised observation as it fell from his spit slicked lips.

You blinked up at him in the darkness, spreading your legs to accommodate his wide hips as he slotted them between your thighs.

Your hand curled around his wrist and gently pulled his wet fingers from your mouth. “Can be even better,” you whispered softly, an innocent expression on your face that he found cruel because how could you look at him like that? He had to squeeze his eyes shut for a second to gather his bearing before he looked at you again.

“Show me” he commanded lowly, lowering his chin, his expression dark and set like the lieutenant he was.

[walmart-icarus]

Johnny carves things out of wood.

It’s expected, since the Scot is usually seen as an artist and it’s way easier to carry wood and a Swiss-army knife in a war zone than a sketchbook and pencil.

His most recent figurine, is a small horse. He proudly places it on Ghost’s personal desk in the barracks.

“…It’s a horse.” Simon states the obvious

“Aye, that it is.”

Ghost picks up the little horse, seeming smaller in this large hands.

“Kinda looks like you. Hairstyle an’ all.” He says lowly after a few moments. Soap rolls his eyes.

“Away n’ bile yer heid, sir. I’ll take it back, then-“ He answers, reaching his hand to grab the wooden horse, but Simon’s reflexes are faster.

“I didn’t say you should take it back sergeant.”

Johnny huffs and scuffles his hair self consciously. He turns around to leave before getting interrupted.

“Johnny, why do horses look so fit?

…

It’s because they have a stable diet.”

“I’m leaving.”

"Johnny im just horsing around."

[kismetarchive]

Simon helps you put on your heels

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader cw: implied smut, simon is a flirt, he'd rather be home with his lovie than at a social gathering

"Simon, can you help me love?"

Your back was facing simon, head turned to look at him behind your shoulder.

He was in the middle of buttoning his shirt, a chuckle rumbling out of his chest as he stepped closer to you — calloused hands running along your back, savoring the feeling of his hands on your soft skin. He lowered his head and planted a kiss your shoulder, making the small hairs on the back of your nape rise and a whine fall past your lips.

"Simon." You'd huff out softly, pouting at him for being such a tease.

"Sorry darlin', you just look so beautiful."

He whispered lovingly, planting one more gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder before zipping up your dress.

"You're stunning, love." Simon hummed as he looked at you through the mirror, his hands resting on your hips as he kissed the top of your head.

"We're gonna be late if you keep this up Simon."

"I wouldn't mind that."

You rolled your eyes, wriggling yourself out of his grasp as you walked to where your heels were. Simon followed closely behind, hooking his arm around your waist to stop you from bending down to grab your heels.

"I'll do it for you love."

Simon purred softly, kneeling on one leg as his hands guided your feet to slip into your heels, planting a tender kiss on your knee as you giggled at the soft affection.

"Si—"

You gasped when his lips went further up your leg, immediately grabbing his scalp and pulling him away — a grin on his face as your frowned.

"We can't be late Simon!"

You'd remind him and he'd huff playfully, still smiling as he got up onto his feet and press a kiss on your temple.

"After the party then love?"

"Fine." You'd roll your eyes, but your frown couldn't last when he kept peppering kisses all over your face.

Sneaky bastard, knew exactly how to rile you up and then calm you down. (And he definitely got what he wanted after the party)

「 Masterlist ❤︎ 」

[partiallysame]

Ghost Gets No Bitches Part 2:

second part to THIS

Word count 1400

Content warning: suggestive, alcohol

When ghost finally texted you the message was something along the lines of: 

Hello. This is the man from (insert specific grocery store name followed by the exact address of said grocery store). 

You: Do I get to know your name or am I just supposed to call you Man From Grocery Store?

Ghost: Simon

Wow ok not a talker but we can work through that. Simon knew he should take you to a proper dinner but you made him so anxious he needed somewhere safe. Comfortable. Ah yes the closest bar to his base that he goes to almost daily. When you agreed to the date the panic really set in. He’s gonna be alone with you again (he ran to Price to ask for help on what to do. “You can’t wear the fucking mask” “but why?”)

The second Ghost got out of his car he noticed Soap had followed him to the bar (how could he not, Ghost had been sweating all day about meeting his lil lass again) “you walk in that bar and I’ll put a bullet in you, Mohawk”

“Aye come on. Jus wanna see a little more of the pretty bird that’s got ya all nervous”

 Soap knew he was bluffing about shooting him until Ghost pulled up his shirt enough to show his gun and the silencer attached to it. Yup ok he really would shoot him. Suddenly Soap is back in his car.

And then there you were, picture of perfection walking towards him. Big smile and small dress oh he was fucked. He opened the door for you and you let out a “good boy” as you walked through, an audible gulp came from him. Making your way to the bar to order, you told the bartender your drink, turning to ask Simon what he wanted only to find him standing 4 feet from you, scared to get too close. “Come here.” A command. One giant step and he was by your side. You moved closer until your shoulder was touching him. Control your breathing Ghost. “What do you want big boy?” You looked up at him and he should be embarrassed that you just called him that in front of his favorite bartender but he is definitely not. He said the beer he wanted and you added “two please. He’s nervous” the bartender was trying not to laugh.

“Tab Open or closed?” The bartender asked to which you quickly said open and began sliding your card over. 

“No.” Simon’s voice was deep and gravely and his sudden outburst caught you off guard. He may let you walk all over him but there was no way he, a gentleman would let you pay. 

You turned to him, eyebrows raised, “did you just tell me no?” Voice laced with genuine surprise and his eyes got wide, fuck was he in trouble? He nodded too afraid of how to properly respond but he continued to hand his card over and return yours to you. 

“You only get to tell me that once and that was it.” You scolded him as the barkeep slid the drinks over to you. You grabbed his two beers, one in each hand to hand to your date. He nodded again in response but did not miss the way your eyes were glued to his giant hands when he easily held the two bottles in one hand. 

Making your way over to a booth to sit, someone bumped into you, slightly spilling your drink down your hand. The man kept walking until a large (big sexy) hand grabbed his shoulder. Terrified apologies stumbled from his lips at the sight of Simon. But your hand quickly found its way onto Simon’s chest. 

“It’s not a big deal. Right Simon?” He looked down at you just in time to see you put your fingers in your mouth sucking the spilled drink from them. Christ’s sake woman. Your hand on his chest could feel his racing heart beat. 

“Not a big deal mate.” He let go of (pushed) the man as he watched you finish the walk to the table you wanted. He followed but when he got to the table he just stood there so awkwardly. 

“Simon, sit down. This is a date you know.” He’s sat. You decided that if he wasn’t going to talk then you wouldn’t either. You just sat there watching this giant muscle man fidget in his seat, emotional support beer being held so tightly in front of him. Your eyes taking in all of his features, pretty brown eyes and chiseled facial features. After however many minutes of silence (Simon squirming) you decided it was time for billiards. This is a bar after all. 

“Let’s go play” your head nodding to the empty pool table. The sudden sound of your voice made him jump. For goodness sakes man chill. He downed his second beer as he stood beginning to relax slightly. The bar was starting to get crowded so you reached for his hand before making your way to the table, pulling him behind you. You’re touching him. Fuck your hands are so soft, small compared to his. How would they look holding his…  A small and disappointed “oh” came from your lips as you neared the table. A group of men had gotten to it first but with a quick clear of his throat and deadly stare from Simon they gently handed you the cue ball. You turned to face him and god you were so close to him. He thought you holding his hand was bad? Now your chest is touching his. 

“Ready to lose?” You questioned batting your lashes at him, watching his pupils dilate. 

“I was gonna ask you the same.” You bit your lip at his response, excited to finally get somewhere with this man. There was a stare down for a few moments before you turned to begin the game. 

Were you bad at pool? No. Were you good? Also no. But Simon? Never missed a shot. No no this won’t do. Quickly realizing that you are losing (you only got one turn) you changed the game. Now you’re just standing at the edge of the table, looking pretty, moving the balls around with your hands, demanding trick shots. 

“Orange here to here then this pocket.” Hands pointing around before being placed palms down on the table, cleavage exposed and Simon can’t breathe. He does it and you praise him with another “good boy.” Two more planned shots and now you’re curling your finger, beckoning him closer. 

“8 ball. Corner pocket.” Simon begins to bend to line up his shot when you move so you are sandwiched between him and the table. Breathe Simon breathe. “Go on handsome.” Fuck ok he can do this. His large body easily envelopes yours, slowly bending at the waist and you are pushed down slightly, his chest pressed against your back. Your ass pressed exactly where you want it. Simon’s arms wrap around you to place his hand under the stick to steady it. You wiggled your ass back against his crotch and you could hear him stifle a groan. You can tell he’s trying to focus on the task at hand, but let's make it more fun. You turn your head until your lips are brushing against his jaw, sliding their way up to his ear and the whine that escapes this man at the contact. His hands glued to where they were placed on the table, too scared to move them where he actually wanted them.

“If you make this, you’ll get a reward.” You pressed your body into him more, feeling what was starting to form in his pants and you could feel the vibrations in his chest from a suppressed growl. “But.” you paused for a moment and he thought he was going to break the pool stick from holding on so hard. “But if you miss, your friend from the parking lot is allowed to come play too next time. So whats it gonna be?” You removed your lips from his ear, signalling him to take the shot. A breathy and accidental “fuck me” came from him as he lined up his shot. There was no way he was going to miss this, but when you added “thats the plan” after his last comment he missed the ball all together, pool cue scratching the green fabric on the table. He stood quickly cursing every god there ever was as you spun in his arms now face to face. Your arms reached up to wrap themselves around his neck. “What was his name again?”

Part 2.5 Part 3