munsonsmixtapes

[munsonsmixtapes]

moodboard for when your beloved mutual says something nice to you

[munsonsmixtapes]

Daydreaming

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!virgin!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) masturbation, hurt/comfort

This is part two to "A Guiding Hand" which you can find here!

Simon can’t sleep. He never can, but this is different. Your moans echo in his head over and over, the way you screamed his name swirling around in his head, driving him crazy. He even took a cold shower to get you out of his head but there you are, still lingering, taking up every fucking inch of it. 

He’s always able to forget about the calls once they're done, the names and noises they made flying out of his head as soon as he hangs up. But you-you’re different. You’re not like the others. Maybe it’s him being egotistical but he’s almost positive that you wanted him to be the one doing the job. You wanted him to be the one to be fingering you fuck did he want it to. 

He wants to jack off to finally be able to go to sleep but he won’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know why, but doing so without your knowledge just feels gross. Like he’s being a perv like a bunch of the guys he was on base with. And he never wants to be like them. 

But it gets to a point where he can’t hold it in anymore, like his cock is going to burst out of his boxers because of how hard he is. So he has no choice but to whip it out and he spits into his hand before moving it up and down. 

His eyes shut tight as he envisions your hand being the one that’s doing the work, encouraging with every stroke, with your pretty, gentle voice. 

Simon wonders if you’ve ever given anyone a handjob and he hates that he’s feeling jealous, taking his anger out on his cock as his pumps get more aggressive, the jealousy making him bubble with anger. 

He’s moving so fast, moan after moan falling from his lips as he tries to focus on you and some stupid scenario he’s made up in his head that he doesn’t even have a right to be mad about. 

Even after he comes and cleans himself up in the bathroom, he still sees what he imagines you look like on his eyelids when he falls asleep and dreams about you for the rest of the night even though he knows exactly how silly it is, especially since he has no idea what you look like. Nor knows anything about you at all besides your name and how hot you sound when you scream his name. 

You wake up the next morning from the best sleep you’ve ever had in your life. You didn’t know you had the ability to make yourself feel so good, but you’re going to give the majority of the credit to Ghost. He did most of the work and you just did what he said to do. You look at your phone and it’s seven in the morning, only fourteen hours until you get to talk to him again-not that you’re counting. 

He consumes every thought as you go throughout your day. His voice lingers in the back of your head as you get ready for the day, the filthy words, the sweet nicknames, everything replays in your head over and over, making you dizzy all over again. 

This is crazy, you think to yourself as you head out of your apartment to go to the coffee shop down the street where you get your daily dose of caffeine. You immediately wonder what he would order and you hate that one phone call caused the man to worm his way into your brain. 

You’ve never felt this way about anyone before and you can’t believe how easily you’re letting him in. You don’t know him- hell, you don’t even know his real name. All you know is how good he made you feel but that doesn’t really mean much in the grand scheme of things. 

As you enter the coffee shop, you’re trying to wipe him away, to focus on what you have to do throughout the day. You have too much to get done to think about him, like trying your hardest to remember the orders of everyone in the office where you work. You don’t know why you insist on getting all of them coffee when none of them ever seem grateful for it anyway. 

You’ve been with the company for years and it’s like none of them even appreciate you. Like it wouldn’t matter if you were there or not. How many times do you have to correct the wrong spelling of your name on the birthday cake they get for you every year before they get it right? How many times do you have to tell them you’re out of town when your time off is on the schedule and you’ve sent them emails? 

You just wish that for once, someone would appreciate you and the things you do. You don’t want to come off egotistical, but that company would crash and burn without you. You’re the one who schedules the appointments and follows up to make sure that the clients actually show up. You do everything except the actual appointments and somehow they tell you that you’re not doing enough. 

Maybe that’s why you can’t stop thinking about Ghost. Because last night, he actually made you feel like you meant something. He made you feel important after feeling like you were absolutely nothing for so long. He made you feel like you mattered. It’s been something you’ve been chasing after your whole life and now that you’ve finally gotten a taste, you can’t help but crave more.

-

Simon heads out of his apartment after some of the worst sleep he’s ever had. He loved dreaming about you but hated that he never actually got to sleep. He just tossed and turned, those intoxicating moans replaying in his head over and over, driving him fucking crazy. 

God, he feels like such a fucking weirdo for wondering if every woman he passes by is you. For wondering if you’ve ever crossed paths and he just didn’t know. The thought kills him as he enters the coffee shop down the street. God knows he needs some caffeine after the night he had. The line is long so he pulls out his phone and mindlessly scrolls through the few social media apps he has as he waits. Sometimes he doesn’t even know why he has a phone anyway. Well, his personal one. It’s not like anyone’s texting him or calling him to catch up. Outside of his job, no one ever seems to want to spend time with him. 

Even though he works for a phone sex hotline, he never actually gets lucky. He has a date here and there, but beyond dinner and sex, no one ever actually wants to spend time with him. It’s like they use him for what they want them to throw him to the side like he means nothing. And maybe that’s why he likes this job so much. Because he doesn’t get to know anyone beyond their name so he can’t get attached. It’s safe. 

Well it was before last night. Simon thinks you altered his brain chemistry and now he has no idea how he’s going to go about his other calls while he waits for yours. He hates that he’s counting down the minutes as he moves up in line, actually watching them tick by on the clock on his phone. 

Your name is called and his eyes follow a woman who he’s sure is the most beautiful he’s ever seen. He doesn’t actually think it’s you, though, he just needs to go back to bed. That’s what all of this is. He’s just tired from getting no sleep and that’s why he’s acting so crazy. 

But deep down, he knows that he would be thinking this way even if he had slept great. That’s just who he is. He’ll hyperfixate on something and that’s his only thought for days, weeks, months on end until a new hyperfixation comes along and takes its place. You, though? Simon doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to stop thinking about you.

-

Of course it’s a slow day which gives you plenty of time to think about your new crush between phone calls and scheduling appointments. You’re not even sure how you’ve been able to do your job since his name has been on your tongue for hours. And you feel ridiculous for wishing that he’d call, wishing that he was the one you were talking to instead of these strangers. Even though he’s a stranger himself. 

You find yourself doodling on one of your sticky notes-drawing what you think he’d look like as you hum a song that’s been stuck in your head all day. It’s getting out of hand and you know it, but you can’t get yourself to stop. Something about that call rewired your brain and now you’re unable to think about anything else, not that you’d want to. 

When five o’clock rolls around, you’re out the door in a flash, making a beeline for the subway station. You stare at the sticky note the entire ride home, trying your best to stifle your giggles, ignoring the looks of the other people on the train. For once, you don’t care about how you’re perceived because tonight, you’ve got a date. 

You spend hours going through your closet for something to wear after your shower. You know it’s silly to be overthinking but you can’t help but want to look nice for him even though he can’t see you. And you can’t help but stare at yourself in your full length mirror at the outfit that you’ve chosen. It’s a tight, low-cut that your roommate, Jessica, convinced you to buy but it’s been buried in the back of your closet because you’ve been too afraid to wear it. You’ve paired it with a pair of cut off shorts that might be a little too short but you don’t care. For once, you actually think you look hot.

As soon as 8:59 turns to 9:00, you’re calling the number from last night, your heart rate picking up as it rings. You’re expecting Ghost to pick up after a few rings, but he doesn’t. The trills just keep going and going until you hear his voice telling you to keep your message short and hot. 

As you hang up, you hate that you get a sinking feeling in your stomach. You don’t know why you feel like your heart is breaking. He doesn’t owe you anything so you don’t know why you care so much. But you’re upset. He’s just another person who’s made you feel abandoned and you know this one only hurts so bad because you had yourself convinced that he was different. But you guess he’s not. He’s just another loser and you don’t need him. 

-

Simon wakes up from the longest nap of his life to chirping birds outside his window. He doesn’t know when he passed out nor does he remember when he fell asleep. All he remembers is feeling so tired after he got home from the gym. He was too tired to take a shower so he just collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep. He didn’t think he’d end up sleeping until the morning. 

He wipes his eyes and reaches for the time to check his phone, his eyes widening as he sees that he missed your call. He feels so fucking dumb for saving your number in his phone but he couldn’t help it. And he even went as far as putting a pink heart next to your name just because he felt like it fit you. 

“Shit,” he says through a sigh and rubs a hand down his face before immediately calling you back. It goes to voicemail pretty quickly and he just assumes you’re upset. And you have every right to be. He was the one who offered to do another call and now he feels like the world’s biggest dick for not answering the phone. 

-

You’re far past feeling sorry for yourself and have jumped straight to being unbothered. You don’t know why you even cared in the first place. He was just a guy who was able to help you orgasm and there’s plenty more where that came from. You can easily find someone who will make you forget his name. 

Your phone rings again and this time, you pick up on the second ring, ready to let him have it, but you melt just the slightest bit when you hear his voice and the nickname that falls from his mouth. 

“Baby,” he says and his tone sounds regretful, like he’s upset that he didn’t answer your call. And you hope he is, you really do. “I’m so sorry.” The apology sounds like the most genuine one you’ve ever received but you’re not going to give in that easily. “I fell asleep and didn’t hear my phone ring. God, I feel like a dick and I’m willing to do whatever you ask to get you to forgive me.” 

His voice sounds whiny and desperate and you hate how wet it’s making you. You’re supposed to be angry with him but hearing him let his guard down, sounding like he’s on the verge of tears because he hurt you, well, you think you’re close to forgiving him. You think you could use a little begging, though. You want him to be on his knees because he wants your forgiveness that badly. 

“Beg,” you tell him, your voice taking on an authoritative tone that you don’t recognize. And Simon doesn’t argue, he just does what you’ve asked of him as soon as the words come out of your mouth. Oh, you could get used to that.

“Sweetheart, please,” he whines. “I’m so sorry. God, if I was there right now, I’d be on my knees.” And he means it. He’d be on them so fast, holding your hands in his as he’d beg like no man has begged before. 

“I don’t know if I believe you,” you reply, trying your best to ignore hearing his whines because of you crazy they’re making you but you’re getting so wet as a cause of them that you feel like you have to hear them again. 

“I’d never lie to you. Believe me when I tell you that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we talked and I would have never purposely ignored your call. Your pretty sounds replay in my head over and over and the reason why I fell asleep is because I couldn’t the night before because you were in my dreams.” 

You don’t know why, but you believe him. Any other guy would have been lying, but you just don’t think he is. And if he is, then he’s a damn good one because you don’t trust people easily. You don’t know why you’ve made him so different in your head. He’s just another guy. But he’s not. You refuse to think that because you’d absolutely hate if he wasn’t what you built up in your head. 

“Ghost-”

“Simon,” he corrects. “My name is Simon.”

“Simon,” you repeat and don’t miss the little noise he makes when you say his name. “I like that.” 

“So does that mean you forgive me?” You can imagine him pouting and if he were here right now, you don’t think you’d be able to stop yourself from kissing him even though you’ve never done it before. But you’re sure that he would guide you. He’d be nothing but a gentleman about it too. 

“I forgive you,” you nod even though he can’t see you and you feel so silly for smiling so widely when you hear his laugh. 

“You have no idea what it means to hear you say that,” he breathes and his smile is unknowingly matching yours. “Fuck,” he groans when he hears another call coming in. “Listen, I’ve gotta take this call. But to make up for my mistake, how about uh-how about we meet in person?” Your eyes go wide at his suggestion but you can’t help but want to meet the person who’s taken up every inch of your brain for two days now.

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive. I’ll text you the time and place from my personal number. I’ve really gotta go but I’d love to see you tonight.” The line goes dead and here you are, giggling to yourself yet again before hurrying to your closet to pick out something to wear.

[munsonsmixtapes]

A Guiding Hand

Simon "Ghost" Riley x virgin!fem!reader

You call a sex hotline looking to get some relief Ghost is happy to help.

cw: MDNI (18+) masturbation, dirty talk, use of nicknames

special thanks to @robinfeldt98 for giving me this idea!

Your hands shake as you type in the number on your phone. Your roommate gave it to you when you told her about your…problem. But now you’re afraid to commit, to actually call the number that you’ve typed in. You just stare at it, willing yourself to hit the green button but you just can’t. 

You finally press it and the speaker button then hurry across the room, hoping that they’ll hear that no one is on the line and hang up. That’s what you’re hoping for but all of that goes out the window when you hear that husky, British voice. 

You slowly come over to the phone after he’s greeted you, approaching it like you would a strange noise in your home. 

“Hi.” You finally get yourself to speak and your heart rate picks up when you hear a deep chuckle. 

“There she is,” he replies. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” You know you should give your name out to random men over the phone but this is his job, certainly he wouldn’t do anything creepy with that information-at least you hope not. 

“Y/n.”

“Y/n,” he repeats, the name coming out slowly like he’s getting a feel for it on his tongue. It sounds so…hot when he says it. ”I like that. I wonder what it would sound like during climax.” It sounds like he’s close to the receiver and it’s almost like he’s whispering it to you in your quiet bedroom and it causes a shiver to skate down your spine. 

Simon is never usually this forward. There’s usually a script that he created to make the calls flow easier, but you seem so nervous that he feels like he needs to take a different approach. He’s treading lightly, not wanting to scare you off. 

He doesn’t know why, but you seem…different from all the others. You’re not flirting with him like everyone else does. This is clearly your first time and since he started this job, this is the only time he’s wanted to be sweet and gentle. 

“So what’s the reason for your call, y/n?” He asks, his voice somehow getting even lower and you feel yourself getting wet already. How is he able to do that? 

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name first?” You ask and he chuckles again, making your heart leap again. 

“Oh, where are my manners? I’m Ghost.” 

“Ghost.” You don’t want to admit that you like it. That you can imagine yourself moaning it over and over even though you’ve never done that before. You’ve never done-well, anything. And that’s why you’re calling. To hopefully get some relief. 

“It sounds even better when you say it. So, what’s the reason you’re calling, sweetheart?” The nickname causes your cheeks to heat and you can’t believe how easily you’re playing right into his hand. 

“Well-“ you cut yourself off, unsure to tell him the truth without sounding weird. “I’ve never-I’ve never had sex before.” 

“I see,” is all he says in response, waiting for you to finish your explanation. 

“And I’ve never…masturbated either so I guess I’m just looking for some relief. To take some edge off.” 

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. How would you like me to help? You call the shots.” 

“Me? Why me?” You hate the idea of being in control. You want to be told what to do and how to do it. You’ve never done well in an authoritative role and he clearly has all the experience so you’d much rather have him take the reins. 

“Hey, let’s take a deep breath, darling.” he says. “In,” he says and you both suck in some air. “And out. Good,” he says once you’ve breathed all the air out. “I’m happy to take control if you want me too. I’ll do whatever you want. I’m yours for the night.” 

No one’s ever said that to you. No one has been so…eager to please you in this way and now you kind of wish you knew what Ghost looked like. If he’s as hot as his voice. You’re sure he is but you don’t know why. You want him to be here with you, knowing that it would ease your mind to have him standing in front of you.

But maybe it’s for the best that this is over the phone. You’d hate for him to see just how nervous he’s making you. How hot your skin feels, how your heart hasn’t stopped racing since he answered the phone. 

You’re so grateful that your roommate isn’t home. The wall between your room is so thin that you just know she’d be able to hear everything and you shudder just thinking about  her overhearing this conversation. 

“You take the lead,” you tell him and even though you can’t see him, Simon is grinning from ear to ear, loving the suggestion you’ve just made. He’ll be submissive some other time. Tonight, he’s going to make you his whore. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he chuckles. “So you’ve really never touched yourself? Let’s start there. What are you wearing, y/n? Something hot?”

“Unfortunately not. Just a big t-shirt and panties. I-I was about to go to bed but I just can’t sleep.”

 Even though Simon has no idea what you look like, the outfit you’ve described is making him hard beyond belief. He closes his eyes, imagining sitting you down onto your bed, spreading your legs wide as he kisses you gently, pulling down your panties before fingering you until you beg him to stop, until you clench around him, screaming his name as you orgasm. 

“Ghost?” You ask and he’s immediately snapped out of his little fantasy. For the most part, doing this doesn’t really do anything for him. He’s done it so often that it’s just starting to feel like his job. But the fact that you want him to help you get yourself off-and for the first time-well that fills him with the kind of confidence he hasn’t had in a long time. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes. “I lost focus imagining you in what you described. What I’d do if I was there.” His voice is deeper, more seductive and you feel your panties getting progressively more wet the longer the conversation goes on. He’s imagining scenarios too? God, you wish he was here. “Where are you?” 

“In my room.”

“Alright, first, I want you to lie on the bed.” You do as he asks and wait for his next instructions. Your phone is by your head now as you imagine him hovering over you, whispering into your ear. 

“Are you on the bed, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice so gentle and you feel your heart warm at how gentle he’s being with you. You just know that other men wouldn’t be so nice.

“I am,” you confirm with a nod even though he can’t see you. 

“Now I want you to take your panties off and spread your legs wide for me.” You slowly take your panties off and toss them to the side before pulling your t-shirt up to your waist so it doesn’t get in the way. You then spread your legs wide, already wet as can be even though nothing’s happened yet. That’s just the effect that Ghost has had on you, suppose. 

“And once you’re ready, I want you to press your ring and middle fingers together then insert them. Your pace doesn’t matter. Go as fast or as slow as you’d like. This is all about you.” 

You bring your dominant hand up and hover it over your face as you do as he asks, you then take a deep breath, letting your eyes flutter shut as you slowly bring your hand to your cunt. You make a sound when they make contact, just the tips of your fingers sliding inside. 

You make a whimpering noise at how foreign it feels and Simon feels his cock straining against his jeans at the pretty sound. God, he thinks he’s going to come. 

“Does it feel good, princess?” He asks in a whisper and this nickname is your favorite of the ones he’s called you tonight. 

“So good,” you reply, pushing your fingers in and out of your cunt. You can’t believe you’ve never done this before. If you had known how good it felt, you would have done it a lot sooner.  

“A little faster. Can you do that for me?” You pick up your pace and all of these noises you’ve never made before start spilling from your mouth as your free hand bunches up the sheets that are underneath you. You spread your legs wider to give yourself more access and it makes all the difference when your fingers get deeper, reaching a spot that feels better than all the rest. 

“That’s it, princess,” Simon responds. “Just like that. Doing so good for me.” He’s now palming himself, so close to whipping it out and getting himself off, but he can’t. This is about you and he doesn’t want to get distracted from helping. Maybe if you call again, he can convince you to switch roles. “Fuck you’re so hot.” 

You’re close already, you can feel it. The movement mixed with Ghost’s encouraging words is making your head spin, making you feel dizzy. This is unlike anything you’ve felt before and now you understand why so many people do this regularly. 

“Ghost, oh my god,” you whine as you finally reach your peak, back arching, your cunt clenching around your fingers. Hearing you moan his name, he lets out a little whimper, knowing that he’s going to take care of himself as soon as the call is over. He has no idea how the hell he’s going to be able to do any calls after this. It’s the best one he’s ever had and now he hopes you call him all the time just so he can hear your pretty nosies again and again. 

“Fuck,” is all you’re able to say as yoou’re coming down, your body sticky with sweat as you remove your fingers.

“You did so good,” he says, his voice soft again, sounding so different from just moments ago. “How do you feel, princess? Bet you feel so good, don’t you?”

“So good,” you agree. 

“Well, I guess my job here is done. Same time tomorrow?” His tone is making it sound like he’s joking, but he really does want you to call tomorrow. And every day after that.”

“It’s a date,” you reply, your voice sounding a little tired.

“Alright, same time tomorrow. I’ll keep the line open so you just call this number again. Now go clean up and get some rest, princess. You’ve earned it for being such a good girl.” The line goes dead and you just lie there, not sure you can go to sleep after that, already counting down the minutes until you can call Ghost again. 

part two

[munsonsmixtapes]

Maybe the reader and ghost are childhood best friends who lost touch after he joined the military and one night he’s at a bar off base that the force dragged him to on night off and they run into each other and reconnect and he confesses that he was always in love with her but couldn’t say anything and she admits the same??? And maybe after a confession where the both feel stupid for not saying anything sooner they hook up in his truck or something maybe 👀

This was so much fun to write!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) public sex, grinding

The bar is pretty empty when Ghost enters it. The guys forced him even though he didn’t want to come. He just wants to curl up in bed and read one of the emails you’ve sent him over and over again until he falls asleep. 

And the thing is, he knows it’s pathetic. That he’s making so much out of nothing but he can’t help it. Right now, that’s all he really has to keep him going. He misses you more than he’ll ever admit because then he’d have to tell himself that he’s in love with you. But he’d never do that. You’re just friends. 

The kiss you shared before he left has taken over every inch of his brain, so much so that there’s not room for anything else. And he’s not so sure that he’s upset by that. Part of him wants to tell you exactly how he feels but that’s not exactly something could say in an email. He wants to do it in person, not that he could get himself to do that either. He just misses you and is counting down the days until he can see you again. 

What he doesn’t know yet is that you’re there too. You’re standing at the bar, nursing a beer, already writing out your next email to Simon. Your friends are caught up in conversation and you can’t even get yourself to participate. Ever since he left, there’s been a hole in your heart that can’t be filled with anything other than him coming back into your life. 

You’ve been thinking about him and the kiss every day since, but you can't get yourself to say anything about it, though, because you’re scared. You know you’ll just end up telling him the truth, that you want to be much more than you are. But you’d never do that. You’re just friends. 

You miss him. So much so that you see him everywhere. Even right now at one of the tables where a group of men in uniform are sitting. He’s facing you, laughing at what his friends are saying and that’s when you realize that he’s real. 

You set your drink on the bar and make a beeline for the table, having to squeeze by multiple people in your path, somehow making it there without a scratch considering that he was the only thing you were looking at. 

“Simon?” You ask as you get to the table and when his eyes lock on yours, you instantly melt, all of the feelings you have for him, rushing to the surface, driving you absolutely mad. 

His eyes widen as he takes you in but he’s quick to stand from the table, pulling you into a hug, squeezing you tight because he’s so afraid of letting you go again. You fit in his arms just like always and it takes everything in him to let you go even though all he wants to do is hold you for the rest of the night. 

“I missed you,” you tell him and he can sense the hurt in your voice. He still remembers the tears streaming down your face when you said your goodbyes. Just seeing you cry almost made him stay there with you. Leaving you like that was the hardest thing he ever had to do. He knows you would have forced him to go anyway so he didn’t even bother putting up a fight. Now he wishes he had. 

“I missed you too. So much.” He knows how desperate he sounds but he doesn’t care. It’s taking everything in him not to lay it all out on the table when he pulls away. 

“Oh my god, you’re the girl,” one of his friends pipes up which just leaves you confused. Simon’s talked about you? Well, of course he has. Your friends. 

“Yeah, the girl from his wallet,” another adds. Simon’s cheeks go bright in pink at that and you think it’s adorable. You love seeing this side of him. 

He has a picture of you in his wallet. You gave it to him to remember you and he keeps it in his wallet? This is the best news you could have ever received. 

“He stares at it all the time, don’t you Simon?” His name is said in a teasing tone and he would love nothing more than for the floor to swallow him whole. This is not at all how he was expecting your reunion to go. 

He was hoping for love confessions and kisses, not being embarrassed in front of the only woman he’s ever loved. You probably think he’s a freak now and he won’t blame you if you walk out that door. 

“He reads your emails too,” another one speaks up. “Every night before bed.” 

Your heart warms with every confession from his friends and when you look at Simon, he’s staring at you, his eyebrows pinched together, his cheeks and ears a bright shade of pink which you can’t help but giggle at. He’s so adorable. 

“Do you want to get a drink, Simon?” You ask, sensing his unease and need to get away from his friends for a little bit. 

“I’d love a drink,” he replies with that bright smile you know he reserves specifically for you and you grab hold of his hand, leading the way to the bar where your friends are still sitting. They all know him very well and they are all happy to be able to tease the two of you again. 

Everyone in your tiny little town has been rooting for you to get together since you were kids and as much as you wish that could happen, you just don’t think it will. If it was meant to be, it would have happened by now, right? You’re both grown adults with your own lives. No longer attached at the hip, no longer sharing everything with each other anymore. 

Whenever something exciting happened, you’d always run to Simon, but now that all of his time is taken up, all of the reactions-albeit, still matching yours-are way after the fact when the moment has passed. 

And you feel guilty when you get upset because it’s not his fault. And you encouraged him to go when he was asking for any reason to stay so you suppose you really don’t have any right to be upset. 

“Well look who’s back,” one of your friends speaks up. “You’d have thought you died with how upset y/n was.” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed. Your cheeks heat and you see Simon trying his best not to laugh out of the corner of your eye. 

You turn to look at him and his eyes are already on you, that warm look in them that’s always reserved just for you. You missed this. Even though things seem very different than they were last time, you’re still so happy that he’s here and now that book you were looking forward to finishing tonight is long forgotten on your bedside table. 

You want everything to go back to the way it was. There’s tension where there never used to be and now it all just feels so weird. You both know you need to talk about it, but it’s clear that neither of you wants to be the one to make the first move. 

You turn back towards him and sip on your drink, not missing the way his eyes drop to your lips as they wrap around the straw, almost like he wants them to wrap around something else. He steps forward and you set your drink down on the bar, letting him take your hands in his. He holds them gently as he leans forward, his lips right by your ear and his hot breath sends a chill down your spine. 

“Can we talk?” He asks and all you can do is nod before he leads you towards the front doors of the bar. Rain is pouring down so Simon is quick to take off his jacket and hold it over your head as the two of you race into the parking lot where his truck is conveniently parked out front. 

He opens the passenger door for you and helps you into the seat before rounding the front to get into the driver’s seat. As soon as the door is closed, he leans over the bench to reach into the back for something and once his attention is captivated, you shamelessly look over just in time to see his shirt ride up, the wet skin making your mind swirl with the dirtiest things. 

He sits back in the seat and hands something to you. Once you hold it up, you realize that it’s the hoodie he always lets you borrow. You bring it to your nose and just as suspected, it smells like a mixture of laundry detergent and his cologne that he always sprays on it for you. You immediately unzip it and when he sees that you’re taking off your damp shirt, he clears his throat and turns to face the window, closing his eyes so he’s not tempted by the reflection. 

Once he hears the zip, he turns back to face forward as the two of you both unknowingly replaying the exact thing you’re intending to talk about in your heads over and over just like you have been this whole time. 

“I guess I should just be honest,” he says, taking a deep breath, turning to face you as his tongue runs along his bottom lip before chewing on it- a nervous habit he’s had since you've known him. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you nor that kiss since I left and it’s been driving me crazy that I haven’t been able to see you.”

The pit that's been in your stomach for months suddenly disappears and you’re so happy at Simon’s confession that you can’t help but let out a laugh. His cheeks go bright pink and he suddenly feels sick now that you’re laughing at him. Now he wishes he had the power to rewind and not say anything else. 

You seem to sense his unease because your laughter fizzles out and you scoot closer to him, taking his face in your hands. His eyes widen at your closeness and he has no idea what’s happening but he decides not to question it. 

“I love you too, Simon,” you tell him and he can’t help but grin, a little chuckle falling from his lips. “And I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at the fact that we’ve been in love with each other so long and somehow neither of us picked up on it.” 

The more he lets the words sink in, the more he feels the urge to laugh as well, laughter bubbling up inside him and pretty soon, the two of you are cackling about the whole thing even though it’s not nearly as funny as you think it is. 

Once you both sober up, you realize how close you got in your fits of laughter and now your thighs are pressed together, holding onto each other, your hands still on his cheeks that are aching from how much he’s been smiling tonight and his hands now on your waist, the two of you now in the perfect position. 

���Can I kiss you?” He whispers and you smile wider, your own cheeks hurting now. 

“I’d be really disappointed if you didn’t,” you reply and Simon is quick to lean in, his lips capturing yours in a sweet kiss. This is so much better than either of you remember, and now that you know there will be more in your future, you take your time to explore each other’s mouths. 

Your tongue flicks into his mouth and as he pulls you into his lap, Simon swears that he’s going to lose his mind. You taste like the margarita you’ve been sipping and he’s still so surprised that you’re in his truck and willingly making out with him. This is something he’s fantasized about for so much of his life and part of him still can’t believe what’s happening. 

He feels you grinding against him and he can’t help but let out a moan at how good it feels. You feel yourself getting even more wet at hearing it as well as feeling his bulge hitting against you. His hand slide up your hoodie, pressing against your bare back your grinding picks up, your heavy breaths progressively fogging up the car. 

You push his still wet hair from his forehead as your fingers thread through it as his hips buck against yours. He decides that he needs you and needs you now so his hands move up to the zipper of your hoodie and he slowly unzips it, pushing it off your shoulders and only pulling away to get a glimpse of your naked torso. You’re even more beautiful than he imagined and he takes a moment to look at you, the woman he’s been in love with his whole life. The only woman for him whom for whatever reason he’s still unsure of is in love with him too. 

He helps you lie back on the bench as his own shirt comes off, though this is a struggle since he got most of the rain. You pull him down onto you, going for another kiss as you both attempt to finish undressing each other, various clothing items flying around the front of the truck until you’re both naked. 

Simon’s hands reach for yours, threading your fingers together as he slowly slides inside of you, both of you moaning and whining as he thrusts in and out, having no barrier feeling so good. You both fit so perfectly together and neither of you can believe that you haven’t done this sooner. 

Simon takes his time, slowly moving in and out of, wanting the first time to be soft and sweet. He gently squeezes your hands as he tells you how much he loves you over and over which you return before he goes back to complimenting you any chance he gets. He just feels so free and now he feels the need to tell you everything that he likes about you that friends definitely shouldn’t tell other friends.

“You look so pretty like this,” he says as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “In fact, I think this is the prettiest you’ve ever looked.” Your once freezing body is now on fire as his lustful gaze roams all over it.

“I feel the same way about you,” you reply, letting your eyes roam over his body too. You slowly take in his tattooed arm, the very tattoos that you’ve traced with your fingers over and over while you’ve been cuddled up on the couch.

Simon picks up the pace just a little bit but that seems to do the trick as your moans get louder and louder with every thrust. You can feel your orgasm approaching quickly and Simon is quick to encourage you, talking you through it with his sweet words.

“That’s it,” he says. “Just like that, sweetheart.” Your name falls from his lips in a loud moan and he can see that you’re going dumb on him so he’s quick to pull out before grabbing some napkins from the glove box to clean the two of you up. 

He grabs your clothes and helps you put them back on, pressing a kiss to your lips as he zips up his jacket for you. 

“Did so well, sweetheart,” he compliments against your lips. “Think you’re willing to go for round two at your place?” All you can do is nod as he gets himself dressed before buckling your seatbelt for you. Once your all set, he pulls out of the parking lot and heads to your place that he still doesn’t need directions for as he drives much slower than usual since he’s got precious cargo as well as his favorite passenger princess in the front seat.

[munsonsmixtapes]

You always find Simon in the same spot—sitting on his couch with a mug of tea in one hand, the TV on but the volume low, like he’s watching it just for background noise. He barely moves when you come in, just shifts his head a little like he was expecting you, even though you never text to say you're coming.

“And then she rolled her eyes at me,” you say as you drop down next to him, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Like I was the one being unreasonable for asking her to hold the door.”

Simon doesn’t react right away, which isn’t unusual. He lets a second or two pass, like he’s thinking it through, even though he probably made up his mind as soon as he heard your tone. Finally, he hums quietly and says, “She’s not worth your breath,” while reaching over to pat the top of your head in that way he always does.

You don’t even bother hiding how much you like that. You lean into his hand just a little, and for a moment you let the annoyance melt off your face.

It’s always like this between you and Simon. You walk in, already mid-rant about something that annoyed you during training or some dumb argument someone had in the mess, and he just listens. Or, well—he sits there while you go off, mostly quiet, only chiming in with a few words here and there.

But he always makes it clear he’s paying attention. The way his eyes shift to look at you when your voice tightens. The way he’ll hand you a blanket or a snack before you even ask. The way he remembers the tiny details you forget you even told him.

You joke sometimes that you adopted him. That you took in this emotionally unavailable soldier who barely likes people and decided that he’s your best friend now, whether he wanted that or not. He never complains. He never tells you to leave. Even when you steal his cookies or fall asleep on his couch, he just lets you stay.

He’s quiet, sure, but he’s also dependable in a way that makes everything feel easier when you’re around him. You can talk to him for hours and he won’t interrupt, won’t judge, won’t try to fix it unless it’s something he can fix. And when it is, he usually does—without making a big deal out of it.

So when you started seeing that guy from base, Simon didn’t say anything. You thought maybe he just didn’t care, or that he wasn’t the type to get involved in stuff like that. He didn’t ask many questions. Just nodded and said, “He treatin’ you right?” in that low voice of his that didn’t give much away.

You smiled and said yes, because at the time, it felt like the right answer.

He stayed the same after that. Still your go-to person for venting. Still the only one who ever made you feel like you could talk without holding back.

But every now and then, you noticed something shift. He wouldn’t look at you as much when you brought up your boyfriend. He’d change the subject quicker. And when you said something like, “he forgot our plans again,” Simon would just sigh and hand you tea or cookies or whatever he had nearby, like he didn’t want to say what was really on his mind.

You remember one night clearly, when you showed up outside Simon’s door after a long shift. You were quiet, which was rare, and you didn’t even try to hide the frustration in your eyes.

“He forgot again,” you mumbled, pulling your knees up onto the couch. “Said he’d pick me up, and then just... nothing. Not even a text.”

Simon didn’t say much in response. He just handed you the remote and tapped your shoulder once, like that was his way of saying you deserved better without actually having to say the words out loud.

But the breaking point came later. One night, you showed up to his room without even thinking, your eyes red and puffy, your hands trembling a little as you wiped at your face. He didn’t ask what happened. He didn’t need to. He just stepped aside and let you walk in, like he’d been expecting you again, like he knew this was coming.

“He cheated,” you said, and the words felt so bitter and small in your mouth that you almost didn’t believe them yourself.

Simon pulled you into a hug before you could even finish the sentence. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer advice or tell you what you should’ve done. He just held you, solid and quiet, with one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and the other smoothing over your hair. You didn’t realize you were crying until your face was already buried in his shirt.

At some point, he moved you to his bed. You weren’t even sure how, but you ended up under his blanket, wrapped in warmth that didn’t come from the sheets, and you felt safer than you had in weeks. His voice was low when he whispered, “Don’t worry about it,” like he was promising to carry the weight of it for you.

You didn’t know it then, but he didn’t sleep that night. He stayed up until you were out cold, then got up quietly, left his room, and came back a few hours later like nothing happened. What you also didn’t know—what he would never admit unless you asked him directly—was that he had counted every single tear that rolled down your face. Every shaky breath, every time your chest stuttered with a sob. He remembered the number. Kept it in his head. Then found your ex and hit him that many times. One punch for every tear you cried.

A few days passed, and word started going around base that your ex hadn’t been seen. Missed duty. No one could get ahold of him. You didn’t ask Simon anything. You just looked at him across the mess hall, saw the way he was nursing a cup of tea with a blank expression and fresh tape wrapped around his hand, and something in your chest clicked into place.

You didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything. You just looked at him, and he looked back, and that was enough.

Later, after things calmed down, you found yourself back in his room. Same spot on the couch. Same blanket. Same you and Simon. But this time, out of nowhere, he said, “I’m in love with you.”

It wasn’t dramatic or emotional. He said it like it was just a fact—like he was finally telling the truth after hiding it for too long.

You blinked at him, not even sure you heard him right. “What?”

He shrugged a little, like it didn’t matter if you believed him or not. “Figured you should know.”

You didn’t know what to say right then. There was too much in your head. But a few days later, he took you somewhere quiet, away from base, with a folded blanket under his arm and your favorite cookies packed in a tin. He made tea and handed you the mug like he always did, and when you sipped it, it was just the way you liked it—strong, with that little bit of honey he adds even when you don’t ask.

You sat next to him, legs stretched out on the grass, shoulder pressed against his. After a while, you turned to look at him and said, “You’ve been looking at me like that for a long time, haven’t you?”

He tilted his head slightly. “Like what?”

“Like I’m your whole world.”

Simon didn’t answer right away, but the look on his face said more than words ever could. Then he reached over, patted your head like he always did, and said, “Yeah. That’s about right.”

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

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212

[munsonsmixtapes]

So…does anyone have any ghost requests??

[munsonsmixtapes]

Eyes On Me

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

Simon is more than happy to worship you after you tell him how nervous you are to sleep with him for the first time.

cw: MDNI (18+) oral (f receiving) body worship

Thanks @the-witty-pen-name for getting me to hop on the Ghost train!

You’re standing in Simon’s bathroom as you hype yourself up for what’s to come. You’re wearing the lingerie set you bought specifically for him but now that you have it on, you’re nervous that he’s not going to like it. This is going to be your first time together and you don’t know why you’re so anxious about it. 

Okay, maybe you do know. None of your partners have ever been able to make you come and even though you know it’s not your fault, you can’t help but feel like it is. You’ve spent so many dates, terrified to go to the next step and Simon has been the only person who’s been willing to take it slow. 

You’ve been on so many amazing dates in the past few months and after many makeout sessions in various rooms in either of your apartments that you’ve always cut short before going to the next step, you’re finally going to sleep together. 

You feel so lucky because he’s been nothing but a gentleman, going at your pace even though you know he’s been wanting more than you’ve given. He’s been a gentleman in every other area as well. He brings you flowers every time he sees you, he opens doors for you and even holds your hand or has his arm wrapped around you in some way since he always needs to be touching you. Not that you mind. You never mind. 

Your heart races in your chest as you unlock the door and open it, shutting your eyes tight as you step into the bedroom. Simon is sitting on the bed and he can’t believe his eyes when he sees you. You look so-beautiful. He already can’t believe that out of all the men that you’ve probably got on speed dial that he’s the one you’ve chosen to spend your time with. And here and now, he’s convinced that he’s seeing an angel. 

“Fuck,” is all he’s able to say as he lets his eyes slowly rake over your body. The dark blue looks so good on your skin and he doesn’t know why he’s embarrassed that he’s already hard just from looking at you. His eyes snap up to your face to see if you’re looking and is confused to see that your eyes are shut tight. 

“Why are your eyes closed, angel?” He asks, his voice soft. “Come here,” he reaches for your hands and pulls you to stand in front of him. His thumbs rub along your knuckles and that calms your anxiety just a bit. “Look at me, please.”

But you don’t look at him. You can’t. Your bare skin is burning under his gaze and you can’t get yourself to loosen up. Your shoulders are to your ears and your eyes are shut so tightly that you’re seeing stars. You want to let go, to show Simon a side of you that no one else has seen, but you just can’t. 

You’re getting frustrated and feel tears welling up in your eyes because you wanted this night to be perfect and now you’re ruining it with your insecurities. Your hands slip from his and you bring them up to your face so he can’t see you cry which seems pointless since you know that he’ll hear you anyway. 

“Oh, angel,” he says, his voice even softer than before as he stands. He pulls you into his arms as his hands move up and down your back just like always. It’s the thing that always soothes you. That mixed with the sweet words he says softly in your ear. “What’s going on, my love?” 

You can’t get yourself to tell him. The words will definitely sound silly when they’re said out loud, but you feel like telling Simon will ease your mind. He’s always so good at that. You pull back  and when your teary eyes look into his, he feels his heart break into a million pieces. 

“No one’s seen me like this in so long so I feel nervous.” the words sit between the two of you and you feel even more nervous when he doesn’t speak. He’s just trying to gather his thoughts. The news is surprising to him. He has no idea why someone wouldn’t want to take you to bed. You are the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and he can’t believe that you chose him. 

“You have every right to be nervous,” he replies. “This is a big step we’re taking. If you’re not ready-”

“I am ready,” you cut him off. “I just-my past partners haven’t made me-” you cut yourself off, cringing at your words, but now that you’ve started your sentence, you have to finish it. It doesn’t seem like you need to since Simon nods, getting the gist. 

“You know that’s not your fault, right?” He asks, his hands caressing your face as the pads of his thumbs wipe away your tears. You nod as you bunch his shirt in your hands, leaning your head against his chest for a brief moment before looking up at him again. 

“I know it’s not my fault and I-I want to try if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, angel,” he smiles widely. “That’s more than okay with me.” He leans down, his lips slowly finding yours in a featherlight kiss. This is exactly what you’ve done plenty of times before. This is good. This is safe. This is comfortable. 

He takes it slow and you know it must be hard for him when you feel his bulge pressing up against you. You appreciate how gentle he’s being with you, that he’s willing to go at your pace despite how close he is to bursting. 

His hands move down to your waist as his tongue licks into your mouth. You moan into his mouth and he swears he’s going to come right there. You’ve moaned before, but not like this. It’s loud and breathy and desperate. God, you really have no idea how hot you are, do you?

“You’re killing me,” he says against your lips. First you wear this little thing and now you’re making those pretty sounds? It’s like you want me dead.” You’re pushing him towards the bed and moves with you, backing up until he falls onto the mattress. 

You’re standing in front of him and he pulls you to him, pressing feather light kisses to your stomach, letting his fingers dip into the waistband of your panties. He’s whispering the sweetest words against your skin and you feel yourself getting progressively more wet with each compliment. 

“So pretty,” Simon whispers against your stomach. “Can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be able to see you like this.” You feel weak in your knees and he’s quick to pull you into his lap before lying you onto the bed. He stands up, hovering over you and seeing you like this, spreading your legs for him, seeing your soaking wet, underwear, god, you’re making him lose his fucking mind and you’re not even doing it on purpose. 

Simon gets onto his knees between your legs. He widens them even more before bringing his head between your thighs. He takes the waistband of your panties between his teeth and pulls them down your legs, his eyes on yours the entire time he does it. You’re looking at him with your mouth wide open like you can’t believe what he’s doing because you can’t. 

You’ve never been so turned on by someone before and for the first time, you’re actually excited for what’s to come. For the first time, this doesn’t feel like a performance with fake moans and orgasms just so you can rush out the door after it’s over. This time, you want to stay afterwards and have him hold you in his arms while he tells you how well you did. It all just sounds so perfect.

“Eyes on me, angel,” he says, his voice still so soft. “Wanna make you feel good. Is that okay?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but the way you’re looking at him, very enthusiastically, he knows it’s okay to continue. 

“Can’t believe this is all for me,” he says as he looks down at your cunt. You’re wet beyond belief and he feels honored to be the cause of it. He slowly raises his hand and brings it up to your cunt. His fingers slow inch inside and you can’t help but let out a noise. You’re not sure if it’s out of pleasure or pain but what you do know is that you need more. 

Simon keeps his eyes on yours as his fingers pump in and out. You’re tight and considering your inexperience, he’s trying to be gentle even though he wants to go harder, to make you come completely undone, to get your slick all over his fingers. He wants to bury his face between your thighs and devour you like a man starved. 

But he’s a gentleman so he’s going to be nice. He’s hard beyond belief watching you moan as his pumps get progressively faster. You look so pretty like this and he’s staring at you, so focused on your face as he takes a mental picture that he will definitely be using to get himself the next time he needs some relief. 

“Faster,” you whine, your head already spinning. He’s barely done anything and you already feel close. You’ve never gotten this far with fingers that weren’t your own and you don’t know why you ever doubted Simon. 

“As you wish,” he responds and as his pace picks up, you feel yourself start to loosen up, to enjoy what’s happening and not feel like it’s a chore. He continues to pump and brings his face down to your cunt, his lips inching towards your clit which he brings into his mouth, giving it a rough suck, chuckling as he hears you gasp. 

He continues to lick and suck on your clit as his fingers keep working, your moans encouraging him to keep going. As he focuses on your clit, his fingers slow to a stop before sliding out of you, Simon now dedicated to devouring you. 

He brings your legs to rest on his shoulders, still making sure that he can see you from where he is. Your back hits the bed as you throw your head back, your back arching in absolute pleasure. Once he’s happy with what he sees, he shoves his face into your cunt, his mouth moving down to your slit to give it some love, still licking and sucking before he gives the spot a bite to test the waters. 

Your thighs tighten against his head so he takes that as an invitation to do it again and again, repeating the motion until you’re screaming his name and even then he doesn’t stop because you just taste so good.

This is easily the best orgasm you’ve ever received and you apparently want him to know that with the way his name falls from your lips in a loud moan. You don’t know when your hands got into his hair but now they’re tugging on it as his head is still between your thighs. 

Simon pulls away with a wide smile, feeling a sense of pride not only for himself for being able to get you there, but also for you because you were able to let all the unease go, to let yourself feel pleasure. And he couldn’t be more proud of you.

[munsonsmixtapes]

I love it here and never wanna leave.

Not Just a Neighbor (3)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x PlusSize!F!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: When Simon is home from deployment, all he wants to do is sleep, but noise from the apartment next door keeps him tossing and turning- his cute new neighbor's puppy.

Request submitted by anon. Thank you for your request!

Warnings: 18+ MNDI; eventual smut; language; mostly fluff; mentions of PTSD & anxiety

Series Masterlist

You tried to insist that Simon didn’t have to go through the trouble of going to a restaurant with you and Sarge. However, Simon viewed staying in and eating at either of your apartments as the easy way out. Of course, he’ll cook you dinner, stay in and watch a movie- but that’s not the first date you deserve in his eyes. 

He picks you up by knocking on your apartment door at 11:30am. He’s swapped out his usual joggers for black jeans, and a button down shirt. He also won’t admit it, but he spent way too long trying to style his hair just the right amount so that it looked effortless. He was nervous to say the least. He knows it's way too early to be thinking this way, but part of him keeps thinking this is the last first date he ever wants to go on in his life. 

When you open the door in your sundress, he doesn’t know how to handle himself. Delicate flowy fabric drapes over your curves and so much of your soft skin is exposed. He’s a goner and he knows it. He’s momentarily speechless, wracking his brain to think of something, anything to say to you but you make it so hard for him with that pretty smile. 

“Are those for me?” You ask, pointing to the bouquet in his hand. He’s relieved you said something so he didn’t have to, he needed a minute to wrap his head around everything. He nods, handing the bouquet of sunflowers to you. 

“I don’t think a guy has ever gotten me flowers on a first date,” you say with a wide smile, and your sentiment makes him angry. Not towards you- but, every single jerk you’ve dated that didn’t get them for you. Maybe he’s been out of the game for a long time, he can admit, but when did that change? 

“Thank you, they’re beautiful. I love them,” you continue, bringing them up to your nose to sniff. You open your door a little wider to let him in while you grab a vase. He steps into your front entry and waits for you as Sarge wanders over to him, demanding attention. 

Ghost pets him, letting the little guy approach him. He’s willing to meet Sarge on his terms- they have a mutual respect and understanding already. He kneels, letting Sarge sniff his hand and Simon waits before offering him a very gentle pat. When you’re ready to go, you put on Sarge’s leash and the three of you head out. 

“I assumed we’d take my car, I have Sarge’s stuff already set up in it,” you say with a giggle when you and Simon start walking towards separate cars. Simon will not be having you drive him on a date. He knows in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter- maybe it’s his pride, but he wants to spoil you. That includes driving you everywhere. 

“Okay,” he says, and he holds out his hand to you. You tilt your head in confusion, and then shake your head. 

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind driving..” you try to insist. 

“Please let me,” he insists. “I’m taking you out. I want to drive you there.” 

You give him your keys and you honestly wonder how he will fit in your little sedan.You get Sarge comfortable in his car crate, and then Simon is quick to open the passenger door for you  He has to move the driver’s  seat all the way back, and even then, his knees are still hitting the steering wheel. He says nothing if it bothers him. He catches you smirking at him and all he can do is smile back at how foolish he must look. 

The drive there is mostly comfortable silence, as you keep turning around to check on Sarge every few moments. When you turn around in your seat, you don’t realize you're pressing yourself against him, nor do you notice the way it makes him grip the steering wheel a little tighter. 

The restaurant is exactly what Simon promised: patio seating with a table in the corner farthest from the street, low music, and a dog bowl with water for Sarge conveniently next to your seat. The server is really friendly, as he escorts you to your table. Simon holds your seat out for you when you sit. Sarge makes himself comfortable under your chair and then once you’re both settled, Simon sits across from you. 

“Simon, this is so great,” you say, marveling as you look around. “You really, really didn’t have to make a fuss..” 

“Don’t you think you deserve it?” He asks, his tone playful. It makes your face feel warm. “You deserve so much more than this if you ask me,” he chuckles. 

“You say that really confidently,” you quip. “You don’t know me that well already, do you?” 

“I would really like to,” he admits, and you can tell it’s hard for him to open up like this, but he is for you. 

As the date continues, the conversation flows between the two of you. Simon loved to listen to you talk, so he found ways to ask you questions to keep you talking. He wanted to get to know you, learn anything about you that you’re willing to share with him. As time went on, and lunch turned into coffees and splitting a dessert, you were able to get Simon to open up more- more than he’s ever opened up for anyone in a really long time, or even ever. Sarge ends up falling asleep, and you can’t believe how much progress he’s making. 

You’re dreading the end of the date as Simon walks with you back to your apartment, Sarge actually letting him hold his leash much to your surprise. You feel yourself already falling for him, even though it’s been such a short time since you first met. There’s just something different this time, you feel it deep in your chest and you hope that he feels the same way. You linger in the hallway when you’re back outside your apartment door. 

He leans in, your back pressed against your front door and he kisses you. His intention is just to kiss you goodbye, press a chaste kiss to your lips and then retreat back to his own apartment. You soil his plan when you hold him close, wrapping your arm around his neck and deepening the kiss. You feel him practically melt into your touch, his body flush to yours as he towers over you. You moan softly against his lips, and he desperately needs to hear it again. 

“Would you like to come in?”

[munsonsmixtapes]

girl do i have news for you

If Bobby doesn't rise out of that casket tonight, I will be making it everyone's problem!

[munsonsmixtapes]

9-1-1 season 8, episode 16 spoilers under the cut!

“You knew me.”

[munsonsmixtapes]

If Bobby doesn't rise out of that casket tonight, I will be making it everyone's problem!

[munsonsmixtapes]

Falling For Ya (1)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

You meet Benedict and after falling in front of him in a game of tag, you continue to fall for him in more than ways in one for the rest of your lives.

will contain eventual smut so MDNI (18+)

Age Eight

Sun streams through the trees and down onto the garden where the Bridgerton children are giggling as they chase each other in a game of tag. You watch them from afar, holding onto your mother’s hand as she and Viscountess Bridgerton lead you over to the children to introduce them. 

Daphne notices you first, racing over to introduce herself and you hide yourself behind your mother, terrified to actually speak to another child. Your whole life has been spent around adults because you are an only child so you’re not even sure actually sure how to speak to someone your own age.

“I’m Daphne,” she says, peering around your mother but you shut your eyes tight as you press yourself further into your mother’s back as she tries her best to get you off of her. She’s finally able to peel you from her body then forces you to stand in front of her as a boy who looks to be a bit older stands next to her, sticking his hand out for you to shake. 

You hesitantly take it and give it a shake, feeling your anxiety lessen only slightly when he smiles at you. You shyly smile back and even though you feel a little more comfortable, you’re still grabbing hold of your mother’s hand when she and Violet turn to head back towards their husbands leaving you alone with the other children. 

“I’m Anthony,” the boy introduces himself. “And you are?”

“Y/n,” you reply, your voice barely audible. This is uncharted territory and you’re not entirely sure how to go about speaking to them. You don’t want to come across as too mature because then maybe they won’t want to spend time with you. 

“We’re playing tag if you want to join!” Daphne calls out and you nod your head, growing quiet again as you go over and sit on the grass to watch. 

You feel safe here in your little bubble. You’re so used to being on your own that it would feel weird playing with anyone besides yourself. It looks fun though, watching the six siblings chase each other around the garden, their giggles picking up again. 

They even stop every so often to encourage you to play with them despite the constant shakes of your head. You want to, you really do, but you’re far too clumsy for it and just know that you’ll fall if you partake in their game. 

But you join anyway, mostly because your parents are watching. Anthony has decided that you are “it” and now you’re chasing after him, holding your dress up higher than you should so as to not trip on your dress, but it’s deemed rather pointless when you trip anyway in some of the mud that’s still wet from the rain last night. 

The giggles suddenly stop and everyone just stares as you lie there, too embarrassed to get up. Well, everyone but Benedict who’s quick to help you to your feet. He wipes what he can off of your dress and when you sink to your knees again because of the pain, he scoops you in your arms and carries you over to where the adults are having tea.

He grabs an empty chair and sets you in it before hurrying to fetch the proper supplies to clean up your scraped knees. He presses a cloth with warm water to your skin and begins to wipe away the dirt from your knees. 

This boy doesn’t even know you yet is doing everything in his power to make sure that you’re okay. It warms your heart but at the same time, you feel your cheeks burn as the adults watch the two of you, definitely already planning your wedding in their heads.

“I’m Benedict, by the way,” he introduces himself with a smile. It’s from that moment that you just know that you’re going to be the best of friends.

Age Sixteen

The Bridgerton study is empty besides you and Benedict. You are by the window reading your favorite book again, while he is sitting across from you, sketching his favorite subject, but you keep moving, making it hard for him to get it right. You’re not actually reading, though, talking non-stop which is something that Benedict loves. Especially because you only do it with him. 

Over the eight years you have been friends, he has been the only person who you let see the realest form of yourself. He understands you in a way that not everyone does and he feels the same exact way about you. 

He feels like he can tell you anything and you won’t judge him. You’ve spent so many days doing exactly this, talking about everything and nothing as you skim your book and Benedict works on a sketch. He’ll never show you what he’s drawing though, and you respect that. Just because you’re friends doesn’t mean he owes that to you.

When he slams the book closed, though, your curiosity gets the best of you. You suddenly have to know what’s inside it, what he’s been drawing this whole time and why he’s been so secretive. So you make a beeline for him, reaching for the book which he holds out of your reach. It starts off aggressive but then becomes progressively more playful as you try to get the book from him, desperate to see what’s on the pages. 

If he lets you see it, though, then you’ll know that he’s been drawing you for years and he’s not sure how you’re going to take it. He’ll have to explain that he’s been in love with you for half of his life and he’s afraid that he’s going to ruin the best friendship he’s ever had because of it. 

He doesn’t let up, though, holding it out of your grasp and racing around the study, maniacal laughter falling from his lips as he holds it just out of your reach as you continue to call after him. You’ve got him pinned to the desk as you continue to reach for the book, completely oblivious to how he’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon.

You’re so close that he can smell your perfume. He’s always close enough to smell it, but this is different. Your body is pressed against his and if anyone was to come in here and find you in the position, you’d be in huge trouble. But you can’t stop staring at each other’s lips, desperate to know what they feel like even though you know it’s wrong. But that’s what makes you want to do it more. 

As soon as your lips are about to meet, the door bursts open and Benedict is so caught off guard that you’re able to steal the sketchbook from his hand and race out of the room, straight past Anthony who is probably the only person who you’d want to catch you like this since he doesn’t ever seem to care. 

“So it seems you haven’t told her yet,” he says as he closes the door, making his way over to his younger brother. 

“No, and I never will,” Benedict sighs as he turns towards the desk, leaning his palms against it to try and figure out what just happened between the two of you. 

Anthony thinks his brother is silly for not telling you the truth. If he had been in his brother’s shoes, you would have known long ago and the second the two of you were able, you’d be engaged. He just can’t understand why Benedict is dragging his feet. A woman as beautiful as yourself will be snatched up as soon as you’re available so he thinks Benedict should be acting fast.

“It would save you from the marriage mart.” Benedict does like that possibility, but he’s not even sure if you feel the same way and too afraid to actually find out. 

“Even so, I’m taking this information to the grave.”

“As if the sketchbook she’s got in her hands won’t tell her everything that there is to know.” Benedict’s eyes widen and he’s quick to race out of the room to chase after you to which Anthony just chuckles to himself. He’s so easy. 

Age Twenty-Three

You sit at your pottery wheel, grateful for some peace and quiet, working on-well, you don’t exactly know what you’re working on. You just needed to get away from Benedict, especially with having those inappropriate thoughts about him that just won’t go away. Seeing him briefly at the ball only made it worse and now you just need to be alone so you don’t do something you would regret. 

The door shuts behind you and you roll your eyes because you know exactly who it is. You can tell just by his footsteps and really wish you could get the courage to tell him to go away. Funny how the very person you’d want to talk to about this is the one you want to ignore. 

You don’t deny him, though, as he sits behind you, trying your best to focus when he rests his chin on your shoulder. He’s done this exact thing more times than you can count but this time it feels different. He wraps his arms around your waist which you would normally love, but having him this close is making you feel hot, nervous. Your heart is beating so fast and hard and you really hope he can’t hear it. 

“You left,” he says and you feel your heart break a little at how disappointed he sounds.

“Just needed some air,” you reply, trying your best to not sound like your heart is beating out of your chest. 

“I missed you.” He scoots even closer so that his chest is pressed to your back and now your skin is on fire. He always says that, but this time, it feels different, like there’s more weight to it and you’re beginning to wonder if he feels the same way even though he probably (definitely) doesn’t. “You left me all alone and I hate to dance with someone else.” 

“Oh no, poor Benedict had to dance with a beautiful woman.” 

“She had two left feet,” he corrects and your blood is boiling just hearing him talk about another woman. It makes you so angry but little do you know that he has always only had eyes for you and will continue to until he takes his last breath.

“So do I.” You both know that, but Benedict always likes to use it as an excuse to pull you closer. But the one he was dancing with just kept stepping on his feet. His toes still hurt.

“I just like to dance with you. Is that such a crime?” Your skin is burning even more at his compliment and part of you just wants to show him exactly how you feel about him. But you can’t. Not only are you just too shy, but it would also alter your friendship. Not to mention if you were both caught, there would hell to pay. You just can’t risk it. But god, are you dreaming about it. 

You’re about to excuse yourself when you feel him push the sleeve of your dress off your shoulder. You let out a gasp but you don’t dare stop him. You’re too stunned to do anything and you also just want to see what he’s going to do. 

A foreign sound leaves your mouth when he eventually presses a feather light kiss to the skin. Benedict seems to like it because he continues, peppering your shoulder with kisses, slowly making his way to your neck. He helps you lean your head to the side to give him more room as he hesitantly begins to suck. 

Another sound falls from your lips as your pottery wheel stops. Benedict’s hands reach for your now free ones, not even caring if they’re covered in clay. He just wants to feel them in his. This is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. There’s a strange feeling pooling in your stomach and you have to lean forward to put a stop to it. Just when Benedict’s afraid that he’s made you feel uncomfortable, you turn fully on your stool to face him, your pupils dilated as you scoot closer to him.

“I just don’t want anyone to see it,” you tell him and he nods. 

“Good point. Now come here.” He helps you sit in his lap, your bare chest looking so inviting right in front of his face. “How about here?” He asks, his now clay covered hand pointing at the spot right above your breast. 

“Or, I could give you one. Yours could be covered up, right?” You ask, your face just inches from his. Your voice is flirty, seductive, and he is loving seeing this side of you.

“Oh, I’d love for you to give me one. Do you want me to teach you?” Benedict is the only one who you’d want to show you. Any time he’s taught you anything, he’s been nothing but polite and gentle. 

“Please.” It’s desperate, pleading and he decides that he needs you right now.

“Okay, start by kissing the spot.” Your face falls and that’s when he remembers that you don’t have nearly as much experience as he does. Or any at all. “You don’t know how to kiss do you?” The question is more genuine than anything. Benedict would never laugh at you for something like that. “Come here.” 

You lean down as his hands take yours, guiding them to his neck, wrapping your arms around it as his hands rest gently on your waist. Your eyes are already staring at his lips and he can’t believe that no one has tried to kiss you before because he selfishly wants to be your first. 

His hands slowly move up your back as he guides you closer, his lips finding yours in a lingering peck before he pulls away. He sees how disappointed you are then pulls you in for another, this one even longer before pulling away yet again. 

“Patience,” he demands with a chuckle when he sees you getting impatient. “I’m just warming you up.” He then takes your face in his hands and slowly slots his lips between yours, your hands grabbing onto his shirt, kissing him so desperately, as if you’ve been waiting your entire life for it. And you have. This is something that you’ve been dreaming about for longer than you’d ever care to admit. 

You pick it up quickly, sliding your hands into his hair and Benedict decides that this is the best kiss he’s ever had by far. He would have usually moved on by now, but he can’t. Your lips are just too addicting and he can’t seem to get himself to stop until you pull away to catch your breath, breathing so heavily that he can’t help but laugh.

“You’ve gotta breathe, darling,” he says with a chuckle. “Through your nose. Can’t have you passing out on me.” His hands lazily move up and down your waist and you feel like you could melt right there. You’ve both been in the marriage mart for quite some time now and you always wonder how he’s still not found a wife. 

You always hear women whispering about him and see how many times he gets approached when the two of you are together. Growing up, you were sure that he’d be married with at least a few children by now. You don’t understand why he can’t just pick one and settle down. Because maybe then, you wouldn’t convince yourself that you had a chance. A chance with Benedict Bridgerton? That will only happen when hell freezes over. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize and lean forward again. You don’t know what’s going on here, but you’re not going to question it. You’re just going to take what he’s willing to give you. 

“You don’t have to apologize. Now come here.” You do as he says but this time, he gently takes your face in his hands and kisses you gently this time, like he’s done this exact thing a thousand times as his thumbs rub back and forth against your jaw. “Open,” he whispers against your lips and you listen, opening your mouth just a little bit, gasping as you feel his younger flicking inside. 

Your tongue moves with his as he tilts your head back, pushing down on your chin so you’ll open wider so he’ll have more access. You let out another moan and Benedict’s trying his hardest to ignore how hard he’s become. He knows that he can’t possibly take this any farther, but pulls away and brings your head to his neck anyway. 

“Kiss me,” he breathes, not following his own advice and only just now trying to catch his breath. You do as he says and kiss his neck, trying to remember what he had done to you just a few moments ago. 

You then go in for a gentle suck and feel him squirm underneath you, something hard against you and you pull away to see that he’s adjusting his crotch for reasons unknown to you. 

“Did I do something?” You ask and Benedict immediately shakes his head, only realizing now that you’ve never been educated on what goes on between a man and woman, surely unaware that it doesn’t just happen to produce children. 

“Of course not, darling.” He knows this is a bad idea because he knows that he’ll want more, the greedy man he is, but he’s going to make sure to not progress so that you’re saved for your husband. A few kisses is one thing, but sex is something entirely different. He knows how big of a deal it is and he certainly wouldn’t want to get you in trouble and even worse, if word were to get out, he’d get an earful from Anthony and lord knows he’s had enough of those to last a lifetime. 

“Maybe we should stop,” he says and hates to see pout on your face. “Hey, hey. I had a lovely time. In fact, I’ll dream about this tonight, but I don’t think we should continue.” He’s sure that he sees tears pricking your eyes and his heart is breaking just looking at you. “Only because I think it’d be best to save yourself for your husband.” 

You know he’s right, but you really were hoping that he’d be your first, not even caring that you wouldn’t be his. In fact, you’d want him to show you how it’s done because he has so much knowledge. He would be so gentle and sweet and you just know that your future husband will only want to get you into bed for the sole purpose of having a child and he wouldn’t care whether or not you enjoyed yourself. You’ve heard the stories and you’re going to be another one. 

“You’re right,” you nod, trying to remind yourself that this is the right thing to do. And you know that this isn’t rejection, but why does it feel like it is? 

“I should go.” 

“Okay,” you nod and he helps you up from his lap and you both head to the bucket beside the wheel to rinse your hands. It’s small since you’re the only one who usually uses it so his hands keep knocking against yours and as you try your best to not look him in the eye, you can’t help it. He’s staring at you and when you finally look up at him, he motions for you to come closer. Once you’re close enough, he brings his hand up and removes some of the clay that’s dried there. 

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” He asks and you hate the sad tone in his voice. You’re always so quick to forgive him when he uses it. 

“No,” you shake your head. “Now you should go before someone catches you.” 

“One more kiss?” He asks. “For the long journey home?” He puckers his lips as he dries his hands. 

“You live next door.” 

“Then you know just how long the journey is.” 

He’s leaning down, puckering his lips even more and you can’t help but give in, pressing your lips to his and he’s quick to grab hold of your waist, pulling you to him as he wraps his arms around you tightly. 

He then pulls away only to steal one more peck before fleeing, slamming the door behind him. You watch him race across the grass through the window, not being able to stop yourself from giggling when he slips on the grass and falls forward. He then gets up and hurries to his house before anyone notices that he was gone while you close the curtain and let your kisses replay in your head as you clean up your space before retiring to your room for the rest of the night.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do Eddie and shy reader with nipple play? Could he also be a little mean with the teasing?

cw: MDNI (18+) nipple play

The bed dips when Eddie sits next to you on the bed. He moves to lay on top of you and since you know exactly what he wants, you lift your shirt to reveal your bare chest. Your nipples are hard and Eddie raises his hand, massaging one of them with the pad of his thumb. It’s a teasing touch and you know what you need to do, but your squirm under his touch.

“Gotta beg for what you want,” he tells you but your not giving in so easily. You’re whining and his pinches your nipple between his fingers, staring at you, to see if you’re going to break. Of course you are. You always do.

“Eddie, please,” you beg and now he’s sporting a shit-eating grin as he lets go, bringing his mouth to your nipple. He starts by kissing your breast, peppering it with them. He knows this isn’t what you want, but tonight, he feels like being a little mean. You’re begging underneath him and it does wonders for his cock. Maybe if you’re a good girl tonight, he’ll finally give you what he knows you’re so badly wanting. 

“Relax, sweetheart. Let me work,” he mumbles against your skin. Just when you feel like you’re going to go crazy, he brings your nipple into his mouth and gives it a hard suck, causing you to gasp at not only feeling but also at how quickly it’s happened. 

Your hands slide into his hair and once you give it a yank, he knows that he’s doing something right. He continues to lick and suck and when he decides your ready, he bites down. And hard. You moan loudly as you pull on his hair again, feeling your brain rapidly turn to mush. 

This is just as much for Eddie as it is for you. You know how much he enjoys doing this. He might even like this more than actually getting inside you. He loves that he can make you come with just his mouth. That as soon as he bites down on one of your nipples, that you’re putty in his hands. He loves being the one in control. 

His tongue flicks back and forth across your nipple between each bite to help diffuse the sting, but it doesn't do much good. It still hurts, but you don’t mind it. You actually kind of like it. He continues, feeling his scalp ache from you pulling his hair so much when he pulls away to see where you’re at, he bites down even harder when he sees that your eyes are already rolling back into your head. 

“Eddie, oh my god,” you whine as you reach your orgasm and Eddie pulls to admire his work, your tit shining with his spit, the bite marks very visible on your glistening skin. He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face as you’re screaming his name. He then leans down and kisses his way down your torso as he pulls down your panties, sinking down onto his knees. 

“Alright, princess, how about I make you see some more stars, hm?” He asks as he hooks your legs over his shoulder, his head staying between your thighs the rest of the night.

[munsonsmixtapes]

This is so cute! 🥹 Can’t wait for part three!

Not Just a Neighbor (2)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x PlusSize!F!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: When Simon is home from deployment, all he wants to do is sleep, but noise from the apartment next door keeps him tossing and turning- his cute new neighbor's puppy.

Request submitted by anon. Thank you for your request!

Warnings: 18+ MNDI; eventual smut; language; mostly fluff; mentions of PTSD & anxiety

Series Masterlist

The next time he sees you, he’s coming back from the gym. It’s early in the morning and he sees you out with Sarge as he approaches the building. It’s been about a week since his first encounter with you and he hasn’t been able to think about anything else but you since. 

If he thought he was a goner when he saw you in your pajamas, he didn’t realize what it would do to him seeing you in leggings that fit your legs like a second skin. Leggings, and a form fitting workout jacket is enough to make his brain short circuit as his eyes wander over your curves. 

Sarge no longer has his cone, and you're waiting patiently for him to finish sniffing the tree directly outside the front door so you both can presumably start your walk. Simon immediately notices the bright yellow collar Sarge is wearing. He chuckles when he gets closer and he sees that it says NERVOUS in bold font across the fabric. 

As he walks towards you both, Sarge begins to bark, making your eyes flick up towards the direction Sarge is looking. Your eyes soften as you smile recognizing Ghost immediately. He pushes his hood off of his head and like Sarge recognizes him immediately the barking subsides. 

“Hi neighbor,” you greet, cheerily- despite how early in the morning it is. 

“‘Morning,” his voice his gruff, and it’s when he realizes despite being up for hours he hasn’t actually spoken yet today. His voice was still laced with sleep like he had just woken up. “Sarge,” he says, nodding towards your dog. The gesture makes you giggle, and the sound makes his knees almost weak. 

He made you laugh. He already wants to hear it again. 

“Good workout?” You ask, making conversation. He nods, but quickly realizes he’ll need to say more if he wants to keep you here. 

“Yeah, leg day,” he replies, his own version of trying to drag out the conversation as long as he can manage. It’s not in his nature to be talkative. He just wants to keep talking to you. “You’re up early.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” you joke, “I’m on his schedule now, I’m not the morning person- believe me.” 

He can’t help himself, he lets himself picture it. You bundled up comfy with the blanket tucked under your chin, burrowed in the comfort of the his bed and he kisses you goodbye while he goes to work early in the morning. Maybe a few hours later when you’re awake you’d send him a text, annoyed he let you sleep in again… 

He needed to pull himself together. 

“Did you hear me?” You ask, and he feels panic set in like somehow he’d be caught. 

“Oh, no. Sorry, love,�� he says, hurriedly. He doesn’t miss the way you smile at the term of endearment. You don’t seem annoyed by it thankfully, as you brush it off. 

“No that’s okay,” you grin. You take a breath, and he wonders if you’re as nervous talking to him as he is talking to you. “I wanted to know if you got any sleep last night?” 

Honestly, he didn’t and not because of Sarge. He didn’t hear anything when he went back to his apartment last night. He laid on his back and basically stared at the ceiling, because everytime he closed his eyes all he saw was you. 

“Yeah, yeah, I did. Thank you,” he lies. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” you reply and he can tell you’re sincere. 

The little dachshund walks over to Simon, and begins sniffing around him. Despite his legs burning from his workout, he squats down to see if the dog would approach him. Hesitantly, Ghost holds out his hand and Sarge licks it. Witnessing it makes you so happy you could cry. 

“Careful,” you say gently, watching your dog like a hawk. You were bracing yourself to jump and scoop Sarge up in case he starts to act up, but it’s very obvious he adores Simon. It melts your heart. 

He stands up, and somehow Sarge liking him is giving him a confidence boost. He looks back to you, and he watches the way you’re looking at your little dog. The way you care for the little guy makes him like you even more. 

“Listen, um- I was wondering, would you want to get dinner or something… with me?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck- a nervous habit. 

“Oh, Simon- I would love to, honestly. I wish I could say yes.” 

He’s never felt more defeated in his life. 

“I just- I can’t go out anywhere and leave Sarge home. He’s not well trained enough yet. This isn’t an excuse, I swear. I would love to go out with you, but I just can’t- not until he’s able to be left alone.” 

He feels the little spark of hope bubble up in his chest again. You wanted to to go out with him. He looks down at Sarge, the cock block, and he starts to formulate a plan. He needs to make a dog friendly date happen. He can do that, easily. He’d make it work. If Sarge comes as part of the package he’s more than willing to take that on if it means getting a chance with you. 

He spent the remainder of his morning off googling restaurants with dog-friendly patios, trying to figure out which one could accommodate Sarge best. He calls around, speaks to managers, trying to pinpoint the absolute best place to take you. He wanted to have everything researched and ready before asking you again. 

A few hours later, when he finally makes his decision, he’s so eager to tell you that he immediately rushes over to knock on your door. 

“Simon?”

“I found us a place- there’s a restaurant downtown that’s dog friendly, and has a really nice outdoor patio. There’s a corner table that’ll be more quiet and the manager said we could have it, and they’ll even play softer music for us if you think it’s necessary…”

“Sarge is…”

“Special, I know… I filled them in about it, and they said it won’t be a problem. We’ll go in for an early lunch when they aren’t busy and he can just stay right with us.” 

“You really went through all this trouble just for me?” You ask, looking at him in awe. 

“It wasn’t trouble,” he replies, and he means that. Calling a restaurant is nothing- doesn’t even scratch the surface of what he’s willing to do for you. “What do you say?” 

“I’d love to go,” you smile, making his heart ache at how badly he wants to kiss you. 

His eyes linger on your lips, you’re just too tempting. Not when you’re so happy, not when your eyes light up like this. He needs to feel you. He takes a tentative step forward, slowly bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. His thumb strokes your soft skin. His eyes scan yours, and he sees the way they flicker to his lips and then back to him. 

He leans in and kisses you, gently, like if he’s not careful you’d break. You kiss him back and he knows he’s going to be thinking about this kiss for a long time to come. It’s dizzying in the best of ways, and he swears he feels sparks- something he never believed was real. 

[munsonsmixtapes]

It was a pleasure to be able to read this before you posted. I’m on the edge of my seat for the other parts!!

Not Just a Neighbor (1)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x PlusSize!F!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: When Simon is home from deployment, all he wants to do is sleep, but noise from the apartment next door keeps him tossing and turning- his cute new neighbor's puppy.

Request submitted by anon. Thank you for your request!

Warnings: 18+ MNDI; eventual smut; language; mostly fluff; mentions of PTSD & anxiety

Series Masterlist

He hadn’t been home in months. The drag of his boots got heavier and heavier the closer he got to the front door of his flat. His eyes were heavy and his body was so goddamn sore. All he could think about was getting in his own bed, and he was looking forward to the best night's sleep since he can’t remember when. 

When he gets home, he leaves his duffel by the door with a thud and kicks of his boots. His feet sink into the carpet and he can’t even begin to describe how good it feels to be home. His muscles begin to untense and he’s not moving as rigidly as he was moments ago. 

He desperately wanted a hot shower, and that was his first stop. The water pressure in his building was nothing to write home about, but god did it beat the terrible showers with no pressure on base. The hot water did wonders for his aching muscles. He was beginning to slip back into a normal routine quite quickly. 

He couldn’t wait to fall asleep in his own bed. An actual bed with a plush mattress and pillows that don’t deflect immediately. He’s craving sleep so badly. He steps out of the shower and throws on a pair of his sweatpants. He collapses on his bed instantly, not even bothering to get under the covers. He stretches out on his stomach and he’s feeling the pull of sleep just about to take over him. 

Noise from the other side of his bedroom wall kept him from fully losing himself to sleep. It wasn’t like him, being so used to sleeping wherever on deployment, sounds never bothered him when he tried to sleep. He knew the apartment next to his wouldn’t have stayed vacant forever and perhaps he'd just been spoiled the last time he was home and it was vacant. He tried his best to ignore it. 

Was that a fucking dog? 

After a few attempts of tossing and turning, he was getting sick of this. He could barely stand it. He was so close to sleep and yet, it was like he got a second wind as he got up and headed out into the hallway to give this new neighbor a piece of his mind. He knocks on the door, and he hears another bark from the other side. He’s ready to lay into whoever is on the other side of the door, to cuss them out for not being able to control their dog while others are trying to sleep. 

Everything he intended to say goes out the window when you open your door. 

You’re so pretty.

Pretty eyes, pretty smile with soft cheeks… is that a dimple? Plush skin that looks so soft to the touch. So absolutely fucking beautiful that you make his mouth go dry. He’s completely forgotten why he came over here when you look at him with those eyes and that little head tilt. He should say something. 

“I’m so sorry,” you begin the conversation much to his relief. “Sarge is sick. I’m assuming you heard him barking.” 

“S-Sarge?” 

You nod, apologetically, but he can’t even remember why you’re apologizing until he hears a little yip from behind you. A little dachshund peers at him from behind your legs. It’s clearly a puppy, a really young one at that sporting an obnoxiously large cone for his little body. 

“I’m so sorry, like I explained in the note he’s a rescue..” 

“Note?” 

You left him a note? Something you wrote to him is in his possession and that knowledge makes his stomach flip. He glanced over to his door, and now he finally notices a yellow envelope taped to the front. He steps over and pulls it away. 

“I didn’t see this,” he says, tearing it open. 

“Hi, I’m your new neighbor Sarge. I’m a four month old dachshund. I have PTSD and I’m adjusting to my new home. I’ve recently been adopted and am trying to learn to be a good neighbor. We appreciate your understanding as I’m still in training. Please have a coffee on my mom as a thank you for your patience and support.” 

There’s a gift card attached to the coffee shop next door and he realizes a few other doors have that note as well. You got a small gift card for everyone in this hallway? He feels like an ass now. 

“I didn’t see this,” he explains, dumbly. “Sorry, I just got home from deployment- I’m so tired I must’ve missed it. Thank you for this.” 

You reiterate, overly apologetic, that you’ll do your best to keep the puppy quiet but he can’t even find any ounce of him that cares about that anymore. He can't even focus on what you’re saying, as much as he’s trying, because watching your lips is too distracting. 

As you’re trying to apologize, Sarge makes his way over, waddling from the weight of his cone and he rests his body against Ghost, taking a seat on his foot. God, how could he have ever been upset before? 

“Oh,” you say surprised, cutting yourself off. You look at Sarge, completely baffled. You look back to Simon. “He’s usually afraid of men.” 

Somehow your dog, notorious for barking and cowering in fear at the sight of any man, declared your neighbor- your tall, bulky and intimidating neighbor- safe. Your eyes widen in surprise, but also you can’t help the wide grin that expands across your face. 

“This is huge for him, you have no idea,” you gush. Your excitement makes his heart swell. Your dog likes him, your dog chose him. He wonders if this means maybe if he’s lucky he’ll have a chance with you. He can only hope. 

“Come on, baby,” you say, bending over to pick up the puppy in your arms. Simon quickly shifts his attention to the wall because he definitely wasn’t staring at the subtle way your tank top exposed your cleavage when you bent over. “I’m so sorry again, I promise I’ll do my best to keep him quiet,” you say, moving to close your door. “I hope you’re able to get some rest, you deserve it,” you smile, closing the door with your foot since Sarge was bundled in your arms. 

Simon is left dumbfounded, staring at your closed door for a few moments before he can even shake it off and return to his own apartment. He keeps your note clutched tightly in his hand, reading it over and over, practically tracing the slopes of your pretty handwriting.

[munsonsmixtapes]

virgin!eddie smut 🙏

I've actually written quite a few fics about that exact thing that you can find here, here, and here!