goin' for gold! (simon edition)
simon "ghost" riley
cw: smut/pwp, olympics fic, jealousy/possessive behaviour, simon hates the french (not really, but kinda), couch sex, cowgirl, big dick!simon, breast worship/play, hickies, naked!reader/clothed!simon
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the summer olympics didn't matter until they did. while simon didn't care if the united kingdom won gold in things like track or fencing. he cared if they won in rugby or volleyball. but regardless, this was an england household. so why were you standing there in an oversized team france shirt.
"love." he said, not wanting to make accusations. he leaned forward in his spot on the couch, his elbows on his knees and his fingers interlocked. he raised his eyebrows, "what's that?"
you turned to look at him, you were standing nearby the couch. the word 'france' across your pretty tiddies. your pretty tiddies shouldn't say france. you asked, "what's what?"
he pointed towards your chest, "that... why is it team france, love? did you buy the wrong one. i know the colours are the same but, c'mon."
you pointed to the front of the shirt and smiled, "well, i'm cheering for france this year. since they're hosting! i always cheer for the team hosting the event." your smile was so pretty with your explanation for what you were doing.
he leaned back a little and placed a hand on his strong thigh, "lovie." he gave a small nod, "you know we're in england right? ya can't go around in that."
you nodded, "i know, si. that's why i'm wearing it in here." in reference to the home you both shared. you really weren't getting it. he watched you come over to him and sit down on his open lap. you cupped his face and smiled, "you don't mind do you?"
he chuckled and cupped your face. his eyes met yours, but his attention kept getting pulled to the garish shirt you wore. he sighed and replied, "of course i don't mind, but." he leaned in closer, his voice hot in your ear, "i think you'd look better without a shirt."
he couldn't help it, he felt a little jealous. france had you as a supporter for this years games? you should be cheering with simon on the couch. he'd even let you have some of his beer or even make you one of those sweet cocktails you loved so much. you should be in a different red, white and blue. the lines should criss-cross to make the flag of the united kingdom.
not france.
you poked your lover in the cheek, "you want to fuck while the opening ceremony is happening?" you giggled.
he reached for your soft hip and gave it a gentle squeeze, in reality he wanted to get you out of that shirt. he wanted it burned if he got his way. but he wouldn't say no to sex with you. he wasn't blind.
his pretty girl all snuggled in his lap as the opening ceremony was about to start. so he smiled and then took the bottom of that horrible t-shirt and yanked up.
you were in a flurry of giggles as you got up from his lap to give you a better ability to take your shorts off and then your underwear. you were soon naked, and simon had tossed your shirt somewhere on the floor. you smiled at the sight of him laid back in the couch and his hand around his leaky cock.
"excited for the games?" you asked as you got back onto his lap. you straddled his waist with your hands in the fabric of his shirt. your cunt painfully close to his erection.
taking simon's cock was a bit of a challenge. his cock was fat and his balls were heavy. when you first saw it, you couldn't fit it in your mouth. but years of dating have earned you enough courage to take it all.
you rubbed your slick pussy up against the tip before he took hold of your hips and sank you down on it. you moaned loudly from the stretch and gripped onto him tighter. you stomach leapt from the intrusion and you started to ride him.
the opening ceremony for the 2024 paris olympics has begun as you rocked your hips against simon. his cock snug in your tight pussy. you felt excitement race through you as you moved.
simon's attention were on your breasts now that they weren't advertising that stupid country. the french. ugh, he would've accepted almost any other country! why not ireland! or america? there were so many other countries! why france.
his hands then went to your pretty breasts once you established your pace. he grabbed at them and panted heavily. but soon touching with his hands wasn't enough and eventually he was kissing at them. which led to bite marks across the skin.
he wanted to see your nipples nice and bruised by the time he finished inside of you. he loved your breasts, doesn't matter if you were in a lace bra or a sports bra or no bra at all! he wanted to touch them, play with them, no matter the size!
the hickies grew darker the more his focused his attention onto the sweet flesh. he could feel your heartbeat under his teeth when he snuck bites further up your chest.
your hands were on his shoulders as you moved. "you feel so good, simon. ah!" you sounded so sweet. a sweet girl like you shouldn't be wearing the french flag! you were too pretty for that!
simon could feel the heat in his cheeks as he felt you rut against him with vigor. the heat reached to his ears and turned them pink as you rolled against him. simon continued to kiss and bite your breasts.
he loved marking you, he loved his hickies on your skin. he groaned against you and felt his cock twitch inside of you.
you kept up the pace, as the pleasure coursed through your body. you pushed the hair out of your face as you continued to move against him.
he praised you, murmurs against your warm breasts. he cupped them in his hands to give him a better angle to cover you in pretty pink and red marks. you were so beautiful.
the television kept playing as you humped against him. your cheeks felt hot all the way to your neck. you clawed at the back of his shirt as you bounced on him.
"my girl." he groaned.
"si!"
"i got ya, love. i got ya, forever." his eyes remained glued on your bouncing tits. he was mesmerized.
"si!" you whimpered as you really worked his cock. it all felt so good inside of you. you whined loudly when you orgasmed and held onto your lover's shoulders.
simon continued to sucked on your breasts. his teeth grazed across your nipples as he felt your cunt clench around his cock. as you slowed down, simon picked up the pace to reach his own orgasm.
his buried his face between your breasts and thrusted up into you rapidly. he felt them jiggle against his cheeks and soon he finished as well. you whimpered once more while he let out a low groan.
"that's it. that's it, love. so good for me." he panted as he slowed his pace.
soon after, you got off his lap and laid out on the couch, your head rested against his shoulder as you felt the lingering feeling of post orgasmic bliss. simon then wrapped an arm around you, keeping you close to him.
he showered you in kiss and love. you did look better without that horrible shirt on. plus, he loved the sight of your pretty breasts. no need to ruin it with a horrid country across 'em.
when he got you into bed to relax after the fucking you two had. simon went back to the living room and found your shirt on the floor. the bold letters of france glared at him. he turned off the television and grabbed the shirt before he tossed it in bottom of the trash in the kitchen.
you didn't need that, it was only right you'd be cheering for england. after all, they were going to blow those frenchies out of the water. the olympics didn't matter, until it did. <3
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